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rottiens · 7 months ago

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DO YOU GET DÉJÀ VU? | RYŌMEN SUKUNA

✮ about. . maybe a family dinner is not the best place to clarify your feelings with your situationship, but you couldn't wait.

✮ tags. . modern au, fem!reader, situationship, all characters are adults (21+), confusing emotions and mixed feelings, mentions of alcohol consumption, lovesick sukuna and reader pretending they are not, suggestive, mostly fluff. divider creds: cafekitsune.

✮ word count. . 2.6k

A couple of days ago you found out what love languages are, totally against your will and completely thanks to Itadori, who forced you to take an online quiz he found completely by accident and clicked on even though you warned him over and over again not to (distrust of links coming from strangers and all that), plus all the information was recorded on the library's free and public wifi.

As always, your warnings and advice went unheeded by your friend who not only filled out and sent the link to the friends group chat, but made you answer the questionnaire as well because he claimed it was something of utmost importance for him to know in order to improve his relationship with you and understand you better.

Itadori has always been interested in the aspects and topics of psychology and now that you were spending more time together, due to the fact that you are always now in his apartment, apparently there was an unspoken contract signed in which you are also committed to take an interest in psychology while giving your devoted attention to itadori when he rambles on about it.

The point is, ever since you got the results about love languages you haven't stopped thinking about it. Yes, maybe at first you were incredulous and somewhat reluctant to the idea that an online test could describe you correctly as if it were some kind of witchcraft, the truth is that to your surprise, it got it right and thanks to that you have realized that sukuna's love language is probably, physical contact.

It was ridiculous the number of times you've almost been caught being in some situation that compromises the status of your "unofficial relationship" and all because he can't keep his hands to himself when you're around.

The last time was weird…and awkward. You were supposed to have the apartment to yourselves, sukuna explicitly asked his brother to take at least two more hours doing the shopping, adding things like extremely soft tissues and spaghetti shaped like squares he needed for his cooking course, sukuna was sure this would make his brother take as long as necessary for you two to have a moment alone.

However, surprise was marked raw on your face as you heard the keys in the front door. There was no longer time to move or run away, you were on sukuna's lap watching a series in the main room, his arms were strangling your waist, his legs intertwined with yours to such an extent that they seemed as one and his face felt warm on the line between your neck and shoulder.

Trying to get away from him as quickly as possible you got tangled up with his legs and your pajama pants falling to the floor, hitting your mouth and, of course, breaking the coffee table in the middle of the mess.

You want to forget Itadori's face and his eyebrows rising to his hairline that appears every night since then before you fall asleep. And you swore, you shouted at sukuna, never to set foot in his apartment or his room again because it was always you who had it in for him.

You look at him out of the corner of your eye, wishing he could read your mind and realize you were still angry, yet you never expected him to be looking at you first. Your eyes return to the plate in front of you, and seeking to distract yourself you pinch off a piece of some vegetable with your fork and bring it to your mouth chewing ferociously.

You should be paying attention to itadori and his grandfather discussing a topic you are sure is very important while choso nods euphorically agreeing with itadori, as always. You should be paying attention to the delicious dish the itadori family had prepared for you, to his grandfather who is recovering after weeks in the hospital, yet all you can think about is sukuna, and in his language love… and deep down you hate yourself for it.

You wanted to force yourself to be present and bind your thoughts here. But you couldn't help that they all ended up in sukuna and it's the same thing that has happened the previous weeks, all your thoughts and conversations ended up around him, because you can't tell anyone about you two or how he makes you feel or how really "not so bad" he is deep down.

You stop in the middle of bringing your fork to your mouth, the wheel that keeps coherent thoughts in motion stops and you look at him. You wonder what he's doing, he wonders the same.

As the conversation continues at a perky pace, under the table one of his long fingers reaches for yours, reaches blindly for your hand, first stumbling over your bare knee and then, succeeding, curls your index finger between his and holds you there, in an act that seems both innocent and childish.

He continues to eat as if he has done nothing, now laughing, covering his mouth with a napkin at Grandpa Itadori's reaction to something to which Choso intervenes and says some seemingly funny comment that you should be paying attention to.

You should be paying attention, in fact—

Because when Itadori later talks to you about how much he was bothered by something sukuna said, you won't be able to respond because you were too distracted admiring his older brother's perfect jawline and cheekbones.

You take advantage of the fact that no one is noticing you to wipe the corners of your mouth with the napkin and drag the chair under your weight, the wood creaks against the floor but passes unnoticed due to the scandal that ignites like a fierce flame and the instrumental music in the background. You look at choso with a chagrined face and ask him to tell you where the bathroom is, only before you can finish the sentence Sukuna is interrupting you, rising from his chair to offer to take you to the bathroom himself and you were about to tell him no, that you were fine, because you know where this would lead only once again, you are interrupted because he takes your hand and helps you out of the dining room leading you to the uncertainty of the hallway behind you.

You prefer not to say anything the whole walk because what you have to say may not be what he wants to hear, you follow him silently, the heavy footsteps of his bare feet can be heard much better now that the fuss is behind you. Your lips are halfway to a thank you when he stops in front of a door you assume is the bathroom, only your words are replaced by a gasp as he pushes you inside without warning.

"Uhh!" you groan at the force with which he stamps your body against the door, you smack his chest, joking, complaining that he's a brute. "You need to stop doing that."

Sukuna smiles because you still do nothing to escape him, you stand there looking at him with your arms crossed and your nose wrinkled. Sukuna stretches his arm behind you to your right and in the blink of an eye the light expands across the room shutting out the shadows. Your eyelids flutter to adjust to the sudden change in lighting and just as you had imagined, you were not in the bathroom, of course, but in some sort of study.

"I was bored listening to them argue," he purrs, lowering his face to you. "You weren't?" his hand cradles your cheek tilting your face closer to his, waves of the taste of the alcohol he was drinking escape into your mouth along with his natural scent now covered by the perfume he wears (hints of dark leather and spice).

Sukuna doesn't let you think about what he just said, since before you can speak he rests his lips on you silencing any protest, but this time it's different from any kiss he has given you before… his hands are not on your ass pushing you against his erection or lifting the hem of your dress to push your panties aside, on the contrary, his hands are on your cheeks; holding you there as if he was afraid you were going to move somewhere.

You are in control, unlike other encounters. You push further into him to take over his mouth and mark him as yours and he allows you to, blindly, the touch of his fingers creating an electric path that leads to your waist and there he stays still for a moment until he chooses to move to your lower back and pulls you to him. Sukuna says your name in the middle of the kiss and your knees buckle a little.

You pull away to breathe, but he comes back to you this time pinning you more against the door and leaving you helpless he works his way up to take hold of your tongue. A desperate moan tears from his throat when you don't give in to him and instead join in his game by biting his lower lip, your noses stumble and sukuna pushes you much harder, this time clearly, allowing you to feel the effect you have on him.

His cock is throbbing with need against your thigh, his hands are squeezing your waist, pouncing on you to wrap around your back in a strange embrace that forces you to hold his neck to keep the position comfortable for both of you.

As you pull away again there is only raw desire in the room, slowly, the atmosphere fills with a tension you can both feel as you drown in that sort of fog of lust.

"I need to take you," he says then.

"Here?"

"Fuck, yes. Here."

Guilt assaults your stomach.

"Your grandfather… the dinner…"

You were as heated and thought clouded as much as he was, but you force yourself to remember the only coherent words that come into your head. His fingers exert pressure on your waist as if seeking some self-control not to attack your mouth again.

"You know how I feel about the dinner or how little I care what they think we're doing."

You try to pretend everything is fine and plant your best fake smile… unfortunately, you've never been a good actress.

"What's wrong?" Sukuna asks immediately and it makes you think that maybe he knows how to read your mind after all, or that he just knows you better than you think.

The false smile you built crumbles, turning into a tight line that forces your lips not to tremble.

"This is the reason you invited me to come with you?"

Was that the question you wanted to ask? No. But it was the first thing you thought of and the doubt that has gnawed at your thoughts since you stepped in the doorway.

"…"

The tight line of your lips quivers, morphing into a pout for a millisecond.

"Hmm right. I think we need to go back."

You try to struggle to get away though it's clearly in vain and you give up, stop struggling, instead filling your lungs with a breath of air that brings with it courage and its damn addictive scent.

"W-wait, what?"

"I've been thinking and I don't feel comfortable doing this," you try to point out the space between you but you're so close together it's nonexistent, so once more, you give up and drop your hand down again, adding, "You're my best friend's brother."

"And?"

Your eyebrows draw together in desperation to keep your cool in the face of a situation that is obvious to you.

"That's just why we shouldn't keep sneaking around like we're doing something wrong. It's unfair that I can't talk it over with Kugisaki or Yuuji."

"Then you want to… what?"

You realize this is just the reason why Nobara didn't support your "relationship" or secret sneaking around with sukuna, she doesn't like him and you understood why, but you still wanted to give him a chance and prove her wrong, that he could be more than that. Maybe it's you who was wrong.

"Forget it, Ryōmen." You try to force yourself on him to escape before you say something you don't mean and this time he relents, taking a step back, except that before you can open the door and run to the dining room, his fingers hover around your wrist making you a prisoner once more.

"Hey, hey. Wait. You want to make it official? Is that it?"

You pause to look at the grip on your wrist, then move up to his eyes.

"I want you to do what you feel. I don't want to tell you what to do."

Sukuna licks his bottom lip, you notice his chest rise and fall under the white shirt. Slowly he pulls you closer to him again and you let him, you let him guide your hand to his chest and with the help of his hands he makes your open palm just above his heart.

"I'm not so good with words and I'm sorry." His heart was pounding so hard in his chest that it made your hand tremble, it scared you what you felt, the way his chest was vibrating with the force of his heartbeat was perhaps stronger than yours. "But I want you to be mine, it's all I ever wanted…all those times I teased you when we were kids…it was me scared because I didn't understand what this was that you made me feel."

You couldn't look him in the eye, and yet you forced yourself to; your foot shifting restlessly on the floor and your free hand trembling.

"Don't leave me. I want to be yours, even if it means having to hold your hand in front of Nobara and having to share you with my brother. Just… stay, please."

You'd never heard him ask for anything. Not to you or his brothers, everything in front of you was new, even to Sukuna himself. He'd never met someone before that made him run his feelings for them out of control the way you did, but the idea that you were going to break up with him there, in his childhood home, with his family outside where he'd have to pretend he didn't care about you, made him much more afraid than he'd like to admit.

Finally, he pulls your hand away from his chest and brings it up to the level of his mouth where he kisses your knuckles and then the back of your hand.

"Let's go back to the dining room," he murmurs against your skin.

You, still with your feet in the clouds, sigh. You bite your lip to find coherence and restraint in your thoughts. "Yeah… I'm a little dizzy still."

He laughs. "Too much wine?"

"It's just you." You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from saying the next three words that are on the tip of your tongue, your system needs to expel them somehow to keep you from choking on them, so you disguise them. "I love your perfume. It smells so good."

"It's okay to say you like me."

Sukuna leans towards you with a mischievous smile and you close your eyes to feel his loving lips on your forehead. Then suddenly, footsteps coming from the hallway make you startle creating deja vu. It was probably Itadori, who would find the two of you sneaking kisses in his grandfather's study like teenagers in love, but at least after this you didn't have to hide anymore and that was all that mattered.

#wr #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna fluff

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cannedpickledpeaches · 7 months ago

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Insert Your Name (7)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to series masterlist!

Notes and TW: Jade doesn't care much about the hierarchy of the mafia when it comes to you. This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

Tags: @guava-writes @itszzmoon @twstsandturns @myteacupisempty @rou-luxe @chikitasmol

It’s a common song and dance. Small organizations sometimes come to the Leech Mafia in hopes of garnering support for their coups. Walrus asked Jade to “lend” you to her. You’re more surprised at her audacity than her motivations.

“You’re trying to replace the Carpenter?” You occasionally see the leader of the Carpenter Mafia at formal functions. A tall, thin man with a disproportionately large head and wheedling voice. Friendly and charismatic on the surface, but known for his underhanded methods of luring people in, stranding them, and devouring them. An insatiable man who takes as much as he can get his hands on.

“Yes, so I humbly came to ask for help.” She places a hand on her chest and furrows her brows. “The Carpenter is a money-obsessed, greedy man who exploits all those who fall into his trap. I can’t watch him go on anymore. Call me a hopeful idiot, but I think with enough determination, even seven maids with seven mops could clear all the sand on a beach in half a year.”

If you were someone else entirely, maybe you would have fallen for her act. That pained look on her face and her poetic description of her tenacity could move a heart made of stone. However, you’ve spent a major portion of your life knowing Jade. You could recognize that duplicitous sorrow anywhere.

“What kind of mafia doesn’t have any suffering?” You won’t pretend the Leech Mafia is a good organization, either. There are monetary benefits, but mafias are built on cruelty, discipline, and fear of the pecking order. For example, if you dislike the way something was done, you have the authority to make sure the offending soldier who carried out the task disappears by sunset.

Walrus smiles. “I strive to create an organization where we can depend on each other.”

“And you want me to help you, huh. Is that why you told your men to attack me? It was a test to see if I meet your expectations.”

“You’re so cute, you know that? You ask questions when you already know the answer. I hope I didn’t upset you.”

No wonder why Jade looks so displeased. He likes to play pranks of that nature on you as well, but he becomes defensive when anyone else tries. What a hypocrite.

“I’m not upset.” As two-faced as Walrus is, you find that you don’t hate it. In the underbelly of society, this is what it takes to not only survive, but to claw your way to the top. In her own way, she is admirable. “Well, tell us what you want and what you’ll give us. This is a negotiation, right?”

“I’m just asking for the basics. Soldiers and weapons, that’s all. Can you spare me a hundred men?” She asks this nonchalantly, but surely she must know the weight of her question. One hundred men on land when the Leech Mafia operates mainly in the Coral Sea is a tall order. Such a number would impact your own operations in the Queendom of Roses. Again, this is expected. When you have more to lose in a negotiation, it is standard to ask for more than what you hope for.

“What a daring question. You are also quite the greedy person, Walrus.” Jade folds his hands on his desk. “Surely you have prepared something of equal value.”

“Of course.” Walrus pulls out a twisting gold wand inlaid with a red jewel. With a flick of her wrist, an image of a man appears in the air. “This is the man who cursed your parents, Jade Leech.”

A shadow passes over his face. This must be a bluff. How are you supposed to believe her when she declared such a thing without proof? To your surprise, Jade does not challenge her claim.

“That matches my findings.” Jade lowers his chin, his sharp gaze scrutinizing her. “What of it?”

“He’s dead. Carpenter personally got rid of him. No use for someone who managed to screw up an assassination, right?” She taps her wand to the image. It becomes a map with a glowing red dot south of the Coral Sea. “One of my friends has a Signature Spell that can analyze dead bodies. If we get his corpse, she should be able to figure out exactly what curse was cast on your parents. His body was dumped around here in the ocean, so you’ll need to retrieve it.”

Jade’s shoulders tense. You glance at the rigid line of his jaw. Softly, you place your hand on his shoulder blade. Calm down. A beat passes. He takes a breath and relaxes his muscles.

“Your proposal is hypothetical. There is no guarantee your friend will be able to deduce what spell was used. In the scenario which she does, there still remains the question of whether or not it can be cured.”

“It’s better than knowing nothing, right? I’ve been working for you for a month. I know there’s been no progress with your parents’ condition.” Her eyes glint. “Honestly, you should be happy to get any kind of lead.”

She has a way with words. At this rate, she will gain the upper hand of the negotiation. You stand still and believe in Jade and his silver tongue. He is not the type of person who will walk away from a discussion having lost more than he gained.

“You knew about the attempt on my parents’ lives, and yet you did nothing while under our employment.” Jade leans forward in his seat and stares her down. “Why didn’t you tell us you knew something about it? Withholding information from us until you can use it as a bargaining chip . . . I’m hurt, Walrus. It will be difficult for us to form a relationship of good faith anymore. If you had told us before it happened, we could have prevented such a tragedy in the first place. From that angle, is it not your fault that my parents were saddled with such an unfortunate ailment?”

Twisting her words and the situation until it benefits him is child’s play for Jade. No matter how contrived that reasoning may seem, at the end of the day, Walrus is the one who desperately needs resources from the Leech Mafia. As long as he does not forget who has the upper hand, he will certainly get his way.

“Of course,” Jade continues, offering her a way out, “I believe in second chances. If you take responsibility and pitch in to find a way to undo the curse, I will have no qualms in lending you my support in your upcoming coup.”

In the end, Walrus has no choice but to concede. There are other groups she could turn to, but creating good relations with the Leech Mafia can only help her if she wishes to gain influence. A weak, unstable group after an internal struggle is easy prey for older, already established syndicates to absorb. She needs their support to avoid a short-lived victory.

Walrus leaves with a promise of seventy men and enough weapons to supply them. As soon as she’s out the door, your mind drifts to the manuscript again. It briefly mentions that the Leech Mafia’s influence spreads after their parents wake up. Maybe this inner turmoil in the Carpenter Mafia causes that expansion. No details were ever given in the manuscript. When you read it over, you had the impression that the author did not have the slightest inkling towards the politics and inner workings of a mafia.

You find yourself stepping back towards the wall as you think. Your body yearns to curl up in the window seat in the attic. Part of you wants to hide up there right now and digest this information. There is so much to think about now. The division of resources, the men you’re going to lend to Walrus, the compensation for the lack of manpower in some of the Leech territory on land . . . .

A hand rests on your waist and reels you in towards the side of Jade’s chair. The perpetrator gives you an imploring look.

“If you need a space to sit, would my lap suffice?”

A few moments ago, you thought Walrus had audacity. Jade outmatches her.

“No, I’ll go up to the attic instead.”

“May I come with you?”

“Seven, you’re so persistent.” You heave a sigh and motion for him to shift so that you can sit comfortably on his lap. His smile grows unbelievably smug as you take a seat, purposely putting your full weight on him. He doesn’t show the slightest hint of discomfort.

It becomes easier to think when you have something pressed against your back. His arms surround you, providing a small space for you to retreat in your mind without any worries. Sturdy and secure like the face of a cliff or the trunk of a tree, safe despite the threat you know he is capable of being. No matter. You were the one who said you would trust him. And now that you’ve let your guard down, you find that you feel rather cozy.

“You’re being weirdly clingy today.” You notice he still hasn’t let go of your waist. “When Walrus asked for my help, you were so adamant on refusing. I could’ve gone, you know. We would’ve had a reason to lend her less soldiers.”

He huffs. “I have told you before. Have you already forgotten? There is no need for you to dirty your hands with filth.”

It takes you a moment to recall when he last said those words: outside Azul’s home while Floyd beat the living daylights out of Barry Moore. You should never have to lift a finger. Just keep making others do your dirty work.

“What’s your problem with me fighting every so often? I’m not against it.”

Jade rests his head on your shoulder. He’s been getting bolder ever since you promised him your trust.

“If you want to, I would not stop you. But I can tell you prefer to stay holed up somewhere and wrack your brain instead of using your fists. In situations where violence is necessary, you often order someone else to do it unless you are the only one around. Regardless, I would support you to the best of my ability whether you wish to scheme or massacre.” He sighs into your shirt. “I was already quite upset that I did not manage to stop Walrus’s men from ambushing you. It put our negotiations at risk.”

“You were going to refuse her terms just because of that?” It’s not like Jade to make such an illogical decision for something that doesn’t even bring him entertainment. In fact . . . “I would’ve thought that watching me struggle in a fight would be interesting to you.”

“Of course it is.” His chest rumbles against your back. Your eyebrow twitches. Laughter? The nerve! “But I would rather you struggle in a situation that I’ve created, which I can stop whenever I wish.”

“So you only like my suffering when you’re in control of everything about it?”

“Let’s not call it suffering. Challenging obstacles, if you will. But yes.” His eyelashes flutter against your cheek. “If it is ever necessary to truly put your life at risk, it means that I have failed in some capacity.”

You should be grateful to hear those words. But some part of you sours. Why is he so bent on protecting you? You aren’t weak. Your Signature Spell’s primary function is to shield you from physical injuries. Fighting comes naturally to you. In fact, when you met the twins, you were the one who fought for Jade. Sort of. You even extorted him afterwards. And in the Leech Mafia, it is your job to protect him.

“I don’t need to be protected.”

“You are correct.” He nuzzles his face into your neck. “You have survived for this long in the mafia. I don’t try to keep you from harm because you are incompetent—far from it, actually. I do so because you are too competent. You take on more and more difficult work, increasing your chances of getting hurt, but you do not stop and consider how seeing you injured may throw me into disarray—”

He suddenly pauses. You think you get the gist of it. His parents still lie unconscious in hospital beds. Perhaps a small part of him blames himself for not being careful enough. Even you sometimes lie awake wondering if there was anything you could have done to prevent it. If only you took that manuscript seriously sooner. If only you had been more vigilant. If only, if only, if only. Do you dare to assume he’s worried about you as well?

Jade’s fingers tighten on your waist. “I want to make sure you are safe and comfortable. If you will allow me, I will do anything in my power to ensure it happens. Scheme and plot, stew in your thoughts, give orders like a tyrant. I will be your hands and feet so that you never have to endanger yourself. It is only a selfish desire of mine that you will never be harmed.”

“So, if I’m understanding correctly, you’re saying you care about me?”

He chuckles. “Is it something that needs to be said?”

Answering a question with a question. Typical.

“Tell me properly.”

“Relentless as always.” He relaxes his grip. “I care about you. More than you think.”

“You said you wouldn’t lie to me anymore.” There’s enough sincerity in his voice that you don’t have to confirm. A part of you just wants to hear him say it.

“I was not lying, then or now.” Jade’s arms wind around your torso and hold you close. “I have always been truthful on this subject, and this is no lie, either.”

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #jade leech #twst jade #twst fanfic #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #mafia au #multi chap fic #slow burn

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eldritchcreatureofwords · 3 months ago

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Blitz and Octavia bonding headcanons?

LOL oh my God here we go: - Blitz doesn't expect Octavia to like him- like ever. He's amazed Stolas likes him. He doesn't like himself. He's the other "woman" and the reason her parent's marriage ended. So he's very surprised to find they connect with one another over a shared love of music- genre in particular. They like the same styles, the same bands, and the same songs, and when she catches him humming something she's familiar with absently one day she is surprised and pleased. It becomes a little ritual; sharing music they think the other will enjoy, texting links to videos back and forth to one another. -Octavia is a Good Girl. She's almost never done anything wrong or out of line a day in her life. Blitz's rebellious, dangerous streak is new to her, but when she's having a bad day, stressed, anxious, or just needs to get something out of her system, he takes her to the edges of the ring and finds old, dilapidated buildings. He teaches her how to throw rocks through the windows, works on her aim and getting her further and further away from her target and needing more and more force to nail her 'shots'.

-He also finds old, unused shit for them to shamelessly steal- old signs, traffic lights, whatever looks cool. Her room ends up decorated in this old shit that Stella says is tacky garbage if she ever sees it and Stolas says is charming.

-They also share a love of art. Octavia seems to have gotten an artistic streak passed down from her dad, and Blitz adores drawing, and sometimes they'll doodle each other in the most outlandish caracatures imaginable and give them to one another. Blitz keeps every single one Octavia has ever made of him, tucked safely in his desk at work.

-He has a surprising tolerance and patience for being her Barbie doll. He will happily let her spend hours practicing her make-up skills on him, testing outfits, styling wigs, painting his claws. Stolas does this, too, with just as much patience as Blitz, but Blitz tends to give her real critique while Stolas will just heap on praise. -They mall-crawl together. He actually tends to keep out of her way, keeping her safe from a distance, but will appear at her side in an instant when she wants him. They have similar taste in clothing and brands, and he expands hers a little. It's a ritual to eat the nastiest, greasiest thing they can get their mouths on when they're done and top it off with something unhealthily sugary.

-Related: once in a while, if she's very lucky, he'll go in with her to an escape room or laser tag venue in the mall, where she can bust out her smarts and he can show off his skills. Sometimes it's an in-mall arcade instead.

#blitzø #blitz #helluvaboss #octavia goetia #ama #not writing

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kaiowut99 · 1 month ago

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youtube

Duel Links Re-Translation Mod Project (Announcement post I guess?) - Dark Yugi In-Duel Line Re-Translation Test (WIP)

(Alternate project tagline: #LetYubelSayLove)

(Forgive some video stuttering, my Nvidia game recording thing was a bit buggy 😩)

~~~~~~~~

So. For the longest, I've been hella curious to figure out where the text for Duel Links is in the file assets, the in-duel lines in particular--as I'm sure most folks know, the English dubtitle text applied for the English dialogue is, nine times out of ten, inaccurate or decently simplified vs the Japanese audio played on the same line, and it's a bit wild that we still don't have a second English option for a more faithful take this long after Konami gave us the Japanese voices natively on Steam and made modding the game to get them a thing of the past. But for all my occasional searching through the files, I had little luck due to encryption and junk; at some point in September, I got curious and did more digging and was able to find some card text, at least, but nowhere near as much as is in the game now, and still no dialogue lines.

And then, 2-3 weeks ago, I saw that Aura (Octomaidly over on Twitter, part of @entamesubs handling Studio Bridge-era YGO fansubs for SEVENS+) had been working with a couple of folks to decrypt and re-translate the in-duel lines for SEVENS characters and came across her video on Twitter sharing her progress; I immediately reached out to find out how they're doing it and mentioned how I'd like to try and re-translate pre-SEVENS stuff, lol. (You can watch her latest video demoing her re-translation for GO RUSH world here; find her work as it develops on the NexusMods page for it.)

After connecting with Aura and the folks helping her and getting set up to work on things, I set up a quick re-translation for Dark Yugi's lines, had it all imported for a test-run, and recorded this demo test vs Kaiba to see 'em in action; I did fix a few things since recording this, like some line breaks here/there, but also fixed the one mention of "Dark Magician" in the cut-in shot since this was a test of my OCG-name translation (more on that below) and thus "Black Magician" should've been there--but all told, it looks pretty good overall!

All that to say that this is now another lil' project on my list 😅 It's very cool that this is finally doable and I'm looking forward to working with Aura and co to make it happen--though do note that it'll be at a bit of a slower pace since work on my finalized GX subs (currently revision work on 117-119 is underway) and Tag Force Special is a bit higher priority. That said, the nice thing is that working on in-duel lines in TFSP kinda does half my work for me here, lol; maybe half of Dark Yugi's lines, for example, are recycled verbatim from TFSP--the only difference being that Shunsuke Kazama is actually voicing him--with the rest being lines newly added for him in DL, from lines for dueling other characters to cards he didn't have lines for in TFSP, and this should be the case across the board for anyone who showed up in TF[SP].

My intention is also to work on two translations: one with OCG card names and one with the TCG names, as we're doing with TFSP, and I'll be starting this off by working on the first five characters from each series that appeared in TFSP, since that's how I'm working on the story events there (so for DM, working on Dark Yugi, Kaiba, Jounouchi, Ishizu, and Mai first), and then once done through VRAINS, that might probably be the first version of the mod I'd release. Or maybe I'll release a version as I get each set of five done; we'll see lol. I do plan to contribute my translations to Aura's project, as well. (Also we just recently dug up event dialogue text so those will be re-translatable, too; doing this for the older series' events that likely won't get reruns will at least be worth it since you can spend Gems to get those event scenes)

But overall, it's pretty encouraging--stay tuned!

#my work #yugioh #Duel Links #ygo #ygo duel links #yugioh duel links #ygo dm #duel monsters #Dark Yugi #Yami Yugi #Duel Links Re-Translation #[start of a tag for this lol]#fklsfl;jsdkl;fjsdl;fjdaslk;fjdsl;fdjl; *lifts test tube* finally re-translatable Duel Links lines #also it is funny that his line for Magi Magi Magician Gal is just 'I Special-Summon a Monster' in the ENG game #sure it's likely not being imported but you'd expect future-proofing just in case lol #speaking of also amusing he has no Link Summon line despite the game starting as VRAINS was airing #which is the case for most of the DM cast until any recent ones that were added i'm pretty sure #interesting!#[also want to figure out some anime music modding sometime lol--installed a 5D's and ZEXAL OST mod but SwoldierX who did them kinda stopped #anyway yeah stay tuned--i have to go back to all these monkey-fighting snakes on this monday-to-friday helipad #Youtube

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rambleyrambles · 5 months ago

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Hey buddies!

What's up with Mollie in Chapter 1?

There's a couple different things I wanna cover, so bear with me as I ramble on a little bit to figure out where to start. Like, I've got something I haven't seen others mention, a few theories tied to it, and other speculation. So I guess I should start with that appearance?

Also note: I'm not going to be going over the mascots as a whole here. They definitely need something all to themselves, so maybe I'll ramble about that some other time.

And just so we don't get too long and clog anyone's dash~💜✨

So! A Mollie thing I haven't seen anyone else talk about!

Well, the other day I saw this post, and as you can see by my tags (under the little "info" tab at the top) I was planning on playing again to see it for myself. I can confirm that exists, and I'll get back around to that in a little bit.

Having played through the game a few times, I've been slowly getting accustomed to the sound of Mollie's voice and I've been trying to make out the words she says. So imagine my surprise when I heard her in the section before where I thought she first appeared in the queue to Rambley's Railroad! You can hear her very faintly in the background repeating the words "set up" after Rambley directs you to the gift shop for your Critter Cuff. (Can be heard here. I've linked to Rambley's last line so you can hear how she mimics it.)

To me, this sorta brings into question how long Mollie was watching Ed. I mean, before it seemed like she happened to be in the railroad's area and was sneakily watching you after you stumbled into the area she was occupying, but now? Now we know she was outside in that starting area. Granted, she sounds kind of distant unlike when we hear her "Closed for repairs" after Rambley and Finley's interaction, but that doesn't mean too much because the little "Hey buddy" she lets out in Lloyd's Mane Stage when she leans around the door to storage. (As demonstrated in the video I linked, you can turn on your way to storage and see her right away once you hear her.)

Now that I've written all those mimicry bits down, it feels a little weird that she mimics only Rambley, especially given she's not directly repeating him when she appears at the end of the hallway in the Mane Stage. Rambley does say it in that area, but it's not in that same call and response manner like the other two. Something to think about.

With all this in mind, I think it's plausible that Mollie could have seen Ed before the first encounter in Rambley's Railroad.

How soon does Mollie know Ed's there?

This is more speculation on my part, as the earliest I can definitively say is the Critter Cuff mimicry being around when she likely notices him. That being said, we do have a gear that falls at a suspicious timing.

That being said, if you've seen David Baron's video on his beta test footage, you'll notice the gear was already there from the start. He makes the suggestion that the gear be out of the way and fall from somewhere above when it's needed so it doesn't confuse the player. It could be argued that that's all that is, but I'd like to point out the whole suggestion was for the gear to fall when Rambley tried and failed to open the door, thus causing the building to shake due to failing equipment just enough for the gear to fall. The timing we see in the final game does not match that. (Whole video can be found here.)

I think it's not out of the realm of possibility that Mollie could have known about Ed's presence the whole time, and could be the reason the gear falls in the first place. It's suspicious enough timing, and I'm not sure what Rambley himself could do to make it fall unless you want to argue something about having a mechanism up there, but this is a pretty specific situation he'd have machinery to deal with considering there's not supposed to be a hole in the ceiling there to begin with.

What Mollie's motivation for helping would be... I'm less sure about that. Especially as it related to my next point.

Did Mollie sabotage the mechanisms we needed to fix?

This is in reference to the Indigo Violet Generator from getting in the front gate, and the machine backstage that we needed to fix in lieu of getting an introduction to Salem. Before realizing Mollie was in the beginning area, only one of them was anywhere near her, so pulling any lines to correlate her and them just didn't make sense. With her being heard in that first area now though...

I think it's possible that she could've been the cause of the gears being out of place. She's present in and around where both are and we don't see any others like it in the chapter.

It's especially interesting because one is in the backstage area for Rambley's Railroad, where we see her pop in and out of while we're on the ride. One could even argue that she could have sabotaged that area while we were already on the ride, though that's between hard and impossible to prove at this point in time.

What makes Mollie aggressive?

While not exactly tying into my previous points perfectly well, I do think the fact that she's so passive and just follows you around until the very end is strange. When she shows up in Lloyd's part of the train ride, Mollie is quite literally within grabbing range of you. If she wished you ill will, surely she could have done something then?

If you want to argue that Rambley was right there at that point, might I raise her appearance in the Mane Stage. As far as we're aware, Rambley might not have been able to see her there, so there's no reason for her to hold back. Lloyd was fended off with a high pitched noise from the Critter Cuff, but it's long stopped doing that by the time you potentially see her after you leave, and that's only if you see her after you leave.

Mollie doesn't get aggressive until you're far into her area, and about to head further in. It's only then that she properly gets in your way with the intent to rip Ed's throat out. So is there something in there?

(It can be argued that Lloyd is similar. Even when it'd potentially be easier for him to attack, he moves away. That's a post for another day though.)

Beyond any narrative design decisions for how to get the player to Oceanic Odyssey after getting spooked by a lurking threat; I have to wonder if there's an in-universe reason for why Mollie stalks along so passively before turning into a threat in that spot.

Is there something beyond the door she came through that is important to her? Is she trying to protect something? Is that just an area she considered private/safe/hers so this is something territorial? Is there something she wants to protect? Is there someone?

The last one is unlikely, but it's interesting to think about, if nothing else.

Final Thoughts 💜

While this isn't an exhaustive list of everything about Mollie, I feel this is a solid base for discussion or to at least think about. I mean, I barely touched on her mimicry as a whole. There's a whole box of interesting lines with all sorts of interesting implications! Unfortunately, I don't really know how to dig through game files to find them all and listen to them on loop until I understand them, so I'm stuck trying to understand them over the loud - but absolutely a banger - chase music.

All in all, I hope I gave you all something to think about!

Bye for now, buddies!~

#Theory Train #Indigo Park #Mollie Macaw #Ramy Rambles #Mentioned ->#Rambley the Raccoon #Lloydford L Lion #Lloyd the Lion #Ed Indigo Park #Heads up that this gets long if you hit the Read More #Not tagging it as a long post just because it's under the read more

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pelorsdyke · 2 months ago

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making a new pinned post to neaten up my fic links! my name is k, i love writing wlw ships, and ill be so real with you rn a lot of them are rarepairs. find me here on ao3. my tumblr fic tag is here, and I often post wip peeks for tag games.

some ships I’ve written once or twice include: spemily (pll), buffy x tara (btvs), jackienat (yellowjackets), donnajoey (the west wing), maggie x sophie (leverage), and wayhaught (wynonna earp). I also wrote a lot of ronance (stranger things) during the s4 era.

marjan marwani & nancy gillian (911 lone star):

who will come into my kitchen and be hungry for me (test kitchen au)

and love isn’t a fact, it’s a hunch at first. (paul helps marjan come to terms with her feelings for nancy)

and your keys, your ring of keys (marjan starts to realize some things about herself, with the help of an oc. lesbian marjan)

underneath your hands I become poetry (some celebratory sex after tommy announces nancy will take over as interim captain while she’s away. inspired by the bts pic where nancy appears to be wearing a name tag that says captain gillian)

your essence is the ink in the word forever (nancy has tattoos. marjan notices.)

so swing your hips and do a little dip (nancy, marjan, and tarlos go to a gay bar)

I will do my best to get it right (nancy and marjan’s first anniversary plans go awry)

I’m gonna love you for a long time (marjan’s lesbian flag hijab, but also just like. 1k words of established fluff)

I’ve been under scrutiny (you handle it beautifully) (marjan and nancy are actors on the firefighter show austin 126. nancy may have a tiny baby crush)

everything I’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it (post-canon, nancy thinks about moving on. it’s kind of terrifying.)

speed queen marj versus the big tortoise (a coda to 5x01 wherein nancy & marjan continue their banter and kiss a little bit. a secret relationship fic)

lucy tara & kate whistler (ncis: hawai’i):

the room is empty, and the window is open (a spiderwoman lucy au, the tumblr tag for the series is here)

february, the thirteenth (kacy celebrates valentines day early, as per lucy’s way of handling holidays)

blue scooby-doo fruit snacks and unrequited love, probably (high school au kacy flirting)

sit down, breathe, and just listen (post-3.04, kacy talks about marriage and promises)

in response, your glorious laughter (a snapshot of a sweet married kacy early morning)

hear the desert wind roll by (kacy first meeting cowboy au, pwp)

one single thread of gold tied me to you (kai buys lucy a virtual meet-and-greet with her celebrity crush, kate whistler. it turns out they may be a little more familiar with each other than lucy’s remembering.)

hen wilson & karen wilson (911 abc):

I did think, let’s go about this slowly (karen and her instinct to let insecurity drive her decision-making.)

I wanna get stuck in your head (some soft henren fluff about parenting, flirting, and finding the time to talk to your wife.)

#nancy x marjan #kacy #henren #spemily #buffy x tara #jackienat #donna x joey #maggie x sophie #wayhaught #ronance #fic tag #mine

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lightwithinthedarknessu · 2 years ago

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Kingdom Hearts Missing Link Beta News Roundup

Kingdom Hearts Missing Link’s beta test has begun in Japan! Square Enix has announced that no videos or images of gameplay should be released by testers. However they are free to share their thoughts! This article will be updated as new impressions and thoughts roll in.

The official KHDR_PR Twitter account has begun to release images of the game and missions for players. First up is a graphic detailing how players can use the touchscreen for movement and how the GPS system works.

There are two gameplay modes: Pad mode and GPS mode

Your character can move alongside you as you walk.

You can also move characters with the virtual track-pad.

*edit* Movement AP can be obtained in walk mode.

In Pad Mode you gain AP in battles

Battles can be automated in "hands-free mode"

AP is required for battles, obtaining treasure boxes, etc.

The team has also shared initial missions for beta testers to complete during the testing period. Much like KHUX, currency in the games is stated to be jewels. New mission content for testers will be released daily until the beta closes. For today, players are challenged to make to lvl 20 for free jewels.

Mission Translations

1/13 7:00~ Grab your smartphone and get started traveling!

1/14 7:00 ~ Area Boss Quest Released

1/17 7:00 ~ Raid Boss Quest Release

Impressions

Lucky beta testers who were selected via lottery are beginning to share their initial thoughts on the gameplay as well. Many of these impressions are posted on Twitter. Please do check out the #KHML tag and thank them for sharing! You can follow updates as they come live here.

Graphics and gameplay are smooth and crisp, comparable to graphics on the Nintendo Switch.

For beta, there is currently no controller support. Character customization is extremely detailed. Facial features, clothing, and accessories are available to choose from, including make-up. Your character does different poses as you’re customizing them.

Story quests are seen to exist but are locked within the beta.

You can collect materials to upgrade your keyblade.

Changing your keyblade also changes your fighting style. Two keyblades are available, one ranged (shooting magic-like abilities) and one more up close for attacking.

Heartless spawns are impacted by the weather.

If you walk up to building you can jump/get onto it.

UI can be moved and changed to be more transparent and moves based on how you’re playing (horizontal or vertical)

On the pause menu you can leave the battle and return to the main map.

There are places to heal your character as you move around.

You can still move around normally in the game without GPS

Tutorial was in vertical mode but gameplay switched to horizontal.

Many of the GPS features are similar to Dragon Quest Walk.

If you walk up to a building you can jump/get onto it. UI can be moved and changed to be more transparent and moves based on how you’re playing (horizontal or vertical)

On the pause menu you can leave the battle and return to the main map.

There are two keyblades to use and you can switch between them. First is Fortune Gear and second is Light Order. The names will probably change with official translations.

New Avatar pieces can be bought with jewels much like KHUX.

New Dearly beloved is beautiful

MP can be used up quickly in auto battle if you aren’t careful.

Raid battles are back! There seems to be an option for a friend feature in the future. No news yet on if you can take on a boss with friends like in KHUX.

It’s very important to finish the tutorial

There is a cooldown time for skills and abilities unlock as you level your keyblade. The appearance also changes as you level it up.

There two types of areas mentioned that you can explore. The town and the field. In town apparently, you can talk to one person for missions.

Gatcha system is back and 3* seems to be the highest rarity to get right now for the chess-like pieces, as seen in the trailer.

Treasure chests in the shop are a great use for jewels and net you various rewards. Helpful in leveling up. The shop seems very similar to KHUX.

There is an opening movie, but it is a short story scene instead of CG. This was confirmed by Aitaikimochi. There is a beautiful new stained glass in the opening. Implied there is a Dive to the heart like in KHUX. Skuld may be in the stained glass, but this is unconfirmed.

GPS is needed for certain features such as gaining activity tokens. In GPS mode you gain access to an Activity gauge. By filling it up through motion and fitness steps you can earn Activity coins for prizes.

Dodge roll and a charge attack can be completed with the touchscreen/a flick of of your finger.

AP is a bit difficult to obtain in the beta. Hopefully this will change in the final version.

Battery consumption is lower depending on the model, the mode you’re playing (GPS or trackpad mode) and how you use your phone while in GPS mode, (setting to power save mode, locking the screen etc.)

Certain chests require tickets to open them. If you run out you can purchase them in the shop. Normal chests include materials to upgrade your pieces. Some treasure chests are easier to open than others. “Gorgeous” treasure chests include 3* pieces.

The field and town BGM are new and sounds calm/gentle with a lighthearted tone.

#kingdomhearts #kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts missing link #KHML #KH #kingdomheartsnews #khnews #kingdom hearts news #KHUX #KHX #longpost #missing link

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negativeyield · 11 months ago

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if i die before I bake

Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Swiss (Ghost Sweden Band), Phantom (Ghost Sweden Band), Dewdrop | Sodo, Rain (Ghost Sweden Band), Mountain (Ghost Sweden Band), Cumulus (Ghost Sweden Band), Cirrus (Ghost Sweden Band) Additional Tags: Recreational Drug Use, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, green out, Pack Cuddles, Crack Treated Seriously, well this was meant to be crack but it kind of veered away from that, Guilt, Marijuana, Panic Attacks, Vomiting, Swiss is fucking zooted Summary: Phantom bakes some homemade edibles for Swiss, but messes up a vital measurement.

read on AO3

“Hey Mountain,” Phantom said, appearing at his bedroom door. “You went on that weed run yesterday, right?”

The drummer was lying on his bed, idly scrolling through his phone. He rolled to his side to look at Phantom, nodding his head toward the dresser. “Top drawer. You having a smoke?”

“No, I’m gonna make some brownies,” Phantom grabbed the bag. “I accidentally took the last of Swiss’s edible he got in Amsterdam. Told ‘em I’d go to the dispensary with you... and then forgot... so I'm just gonna make some.”

Mountain chuckled, “Have you ever baked anything in your life?”

“Of course I have.”

Phantom had not. But how hard could it be?

“Okay, well if you want some help, let me know. I'll send you the link to the recipe we usually use.”

“’kay. Thanks Mount,” he said and made his way back to the kitchen.

Phantom had watched Swiss or Mountain make edibles on a few occasions, but he pulled up Mountain's recipe. He quickly realized it was a little more complicated than he thought. There was pre-baking, and making a butter, and making the brownies from scratch? Phantom looked at the box mix he found at the back of the pantry. It would have to do.

Soon, the kitchen was a wreck. Measuring cups and bowls were everywhere as Phantom filled their shared space with aroma of baked cannabis. It brought some of the other ghouls out of their room to investigate his baking endeavor.

“Fucking hell, Phantom, what are you doing in here?” Dew was the first to appear as Phantom took the roasted leaves out of the oven.

“My best,” Phantom wiped away some sweat from his brow, glancing at Dew. “This looks much easier when Swiss does it.”

Dew chuckled, hopping up to sit on the counter and watch.

“That’s because Swiss has seen every episode of Great British Baking Show and thinks that makes him star baker.”

Phantom threw some butter in a saucepan and started to combine the components of the brownie mix.

“I believe it. This shit is harder than I thought.”

Dew chuckled, jumping down from the counter and ruffling Phantom’s hair on his way out the back door. “Just follow the instructions, you’ll be fine.”

Phantom sighed, returning to his project.

Cumulus and Cirrus also came by, taking a few finger fulls of leftover batter after Phantom had his bake in the oven. Mountain came by briefly while he sat in front of the oven watching them rise.

“Looks good, Iron Chef,” he smiled, patting him on the back. “Did you make them with or without walnuts?”

“With.”

“Oh fuck, yeah. Be sure to save me one.”

Phantom smiled, feeling a bit better about his baking skills. When the brownies finally came out, they looked just like the ones the others have made. He cleaned up while they cooled, and delivered a generous piece to Swiss’s room for when he returned. Phantom thought about also enjoying one, but a text from Rain about a quick rehearsal tabled that plan. He cut himself a small sliver just to test out the taste, satisfied with the fudgey texture and gooey taste.

“Something is still missing,” Dew tapped his chin. They had spent the last hour and a half rehearsing some new bits for the rituals and testing out a few riffs. One in particular was giving them some trouble. “Maybe we should get Swiss down here. See if he has an idea or if adding a fourth balances it better.”

Rain put down his bass. “Yeah, I’ll go find him.” He left the practice room and headed toward the living quarters. In the meantime, Dew and Phantom continued to run through the bridge of the song.

Suddenly, rapid, running footsteps echoed up the hall. Both of the ghouls turned to find Rain looking pale and panicked.

“Something's wrong with Swiss,” he said, motioning for them to follow. They put their instruments down and ran to Swiss’s room. Phantom could hear the sound of retching from the hallway, which eerily stopped the moment they got into his room.

They found Swiss slumped beside the toilet, eyes unfocused as he barely registered Rain and Dew dropping to his side.

“Swiss,” Dew cupped his cheeks, trying to get the dazed ghoul to focus on him. “Swiss!” The only sound the ghoul made was some weak whimpering. The most he seemed to move was when he’d start to gag and lurch toward the toilet. Rain sat beside him, rubbing his back and looking at the others with concern.

“What do we do?”

“What is even wrong with him? He's sweating like he's back in the pits, but he doesn't feel feverish,” Dew said, hugging his arms across his body. “Food poisoning?”

“I don’t know, Dew, he’s pretty out of it.”

“Is he on something?”

Rain shrugged, “we just got back right before we started rehearsal. He didn’t have anything when he was with me.”

Suddenly, it dawned on Phantom. He looked back at the place he left Swiss’s brownie.

The plate was empty.

“Shit,” Phantom turned back to the others, suddenly starting to panic. “Shit, I made brownies earlier. Swiss had one.”

Dew’s eyes widened “How big?”

Phantom estimated with his fingers. “Not bigger than what Swiss has given me before.”

“Did he eat more than what you brought him or something?”

Rain stayed with Swiss while Dew and Phantom rushed to the kitchen where Mountain was coincidentally opening the pan of brownies.

“Mountain, wait!” Phantom yelled, startling the drummer into dropping the plastic knife on the ground.

“What?”

“Swiss is sick. Maybe because of the brownies,” Dew explained. Phantom grabbed the pan, sighing in relief to find only the piece he cut for Swiss missing.

“He only had what I gave him.”

“Well what was the dosage?”

“Whatever the instructions said, Dew, I don’t know!”

The room started heating up with Dewdrop as the epicenter. “Phantom, you saw Swiss— this is not the fucking time for I don’t know, I need some fucking number—”

“Guys,” Mountain yelled over them, the bag of weed, that now had a sizable dent in it, in hand. His face was especially serious. “Phantom, where is the extra butter?”

He stared at Mountain blankly. “What do you mean?”

“You followed the recipe I told you? Pre-baked the amount you usually see Swiss and me make, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, then where’s the leftovers? The recipe is for triple the amount of butter you should have used.”

Phantom suddenly felt like he was going to throw up. “I-I didn’t know that.”

“Shit,” Mountain cursed as Rain called down the hall for more help. Mountain went running, leaving Phantom feeling numb and a majorly heated Dew.

“I thought you were following the instructions,” Dew said, his eyes starting to flicker red, like embers in a fire trying to kindle.

“I was, but I was looking at the butter recipe Mountain told me to use and also reading the back of the brownie box and— and, I guess… I guess I got confused,” Phantom ran his fingers through his hair, tugging on the roots. Dew huffed, turning to go back to Swiss’s room. When Phantom started to follow, the fire ghoul whirled around, eyes fully glowing now.

“You’ve done enough, Phantom. We’ll take care of him.”

He left Phantom standing awkwardly in the hallway, his guilt feeling like a tight wire wrapped around his neck. He stood there until his anger kicked in. Phantom marched into the kitchen, grabbing the pan of brownies and slamming them into the trash can with such force the metal pan bent at a ninety degree angle.

He was angry at Dew. At the fucking instructions for being confusing. At Mountain for not telling him when he was leaving for the dispensary. Really, he was just furious at himself. How did he possibly think that much weed was supposed to go into one batch of brownies? What kind of idiot didn’t double check the recipe when making an edible?

Phantom banished himself to his room, throwing around a few things before collapsing on his bed in a fit of guilt-soaked tears.

Rain think he preferred it when Swiss was vomiting.

After the last time he hugged the toilet, just as Phantom and Dew went to check the kitchen, Swiss had a moment of improved coherence.

“Rain,” he mustered, spitting into the toilet. It was a relief just to hear him have some sort of orientation to what was happening around him. That relief was quickly thwarted by what followed, “I don’t… feel… good,” he said, his voice slurring and slowing. Rain had to lunge to catch Swiss’s dead weight as he suddenly collapsed.

“Fuck!” he yelled, pressing two fingers to his neck. Ghoul vessels did have heartbeats— usually slower than humans— but present. Even for a ghoul, though, Swiss’s was faint. “Dew! Phantom! I need you!”

To his surprise, Mountain was the first to arrive at his aid, helping Rain pull Swiss out of the bathroom and into the more spacious bedroom.

“He just passed out,” Rain said, obsessively checking the pulse points in Swiss’s neck and wrist.

“He’s greening out bad,” Mountain sighed, looking up at Rain with dismay. “Phantom fucked up the edible ratio. It won’t kill him, but we need to watch him until he comes down.”

Swiss’s eyes finally fluttered open again. Still unfocused, and even more out of it than before. Dew appeared at the door, chest heaving with anger. Phantom was nowhere to be found. Mountain took one look at Dew and shook his head.

“Out.”

That didn’t help Dew’s fury. “Excuse me?”

“You’re hot right now. You know he gets sensitive to emotions when he’s high, and right now the last thing we need is him panicking when he can barely comprehend why he’s panicking. You can come back when you cool off.”

Dew looked like he wanted to bite off Mountain’s head, but he did back out of the room.

“Mounty,” Swiss muttered, briefly focusing on the earth ghoul’s face. His hand limply waved, and Mountain grabbed it from the air and squeezed.

“Hang in there, bud. You’re gonna be okay.”

Swiss felt like he was dying.

Or locked in some shadow dimension. Either was possible.

Maybe this was the purgatory thing he’s heard so much about. A land between heaven and hell. It would explain why he felt like the world was melting between his fingers while also feeling like he was floating. He was burning hot and doused in sweat, but also wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in blankets.

A lot of contradictions. The only thing Swiss was sure about was that his stomach fucking hurt.

His head was in the toilet again. Throat burning. A hand rubbed his back and he tried to focus on that instead of the sour taste in his mouth.

Then darkness.

Maybe he was dying.

Sometimes he’d hear some voices. Muted, warped voices he could hardly identify.

One came through clearly. Swiss couldn’t quite identify what was being said, but he knew it was Mountain.

Mountain sounded upset. Swiss frowned working hard at trying to focus on the slow moving blobs around him so he could find Mountain.

A warm hand took his.

Fingers tinkered with his hair.

Touched his blazing skin.

He hoped he wasn’t sick.

They would also get sick if that was the case.

“You can sleep, Swiss miss.”

“We’ll keep you safe.”

Swiss didn’t want to sleep. He was exhausted to the point he couldn’t move, but sleeping seemed like something he wasn’t supposed to do. Like he’s fully succumb to the darkness.

Like he’d wake up in the pit.

His throat suddenly felt tight. Fingers tingled. He tried to suck in more air, but his lungs were sluggish. Slow as the rest of him. Swiss fought, feeling his body being turned. Being lifted and then put down again—

“I don’t wanna go!” he tried to scream, but only parts of it made it to his mouth.

Pressure on his cheeks. A hand on his chest. Swiss’s vision dotted for a few moments before realizing Rain was nose-to-nose with him, his ocean blue eyes pleading for something Swiss couldn’t hear over the sound of ringing in his ears. He looked at Rain’s lips come together and split in the shape of the word breathe.

I’m trying, he wanted to say, but he had no breath to do it.

Rain pressed on his chest. Tapped a pattern that Swiss took to mean as cues to breathe in and out. He tried— and struggled— to follow them at first, but soon fell into rhythm. He felt his body start to relax. His fingers regained feeling. Swiss felt the air fully inflate his lungs, hold, and exit with a slow whoosh.

Slowly, he faded into sleep.

Swiss woke up feeling like he had been dropped in boiling water. He was drenched, the feeling of his clothes on his skin making him nauseated all over again. Feeling a little more mobile, Swiss grabbed at his shirt, trying to ease it over his head.

“Woah, woah, woah, what’s wrong?” a voice asked. Dew's voice.

“’m fucking hot,” Swiss said, back, trying and failing to make it over his head. Frustration started making him upset, and he took a break from his shirt and clumsily pulled at the drawstring of his sweatpants instead.

“Okay, let me help you,” Dew whispered, swatting Swiss’s hands away. Swiss stood still as Dew dropped his pants and helped pull his shirt off. The cool air on his burning skin was a relief, but Swiss still didn’t feel comfortable. He grabbed his underwear, but Dew caught his wrist.

“Those too?” he asked hesitantly.

Swiss nodded, trying to jerk out of Dew’s grasp, but being unsuccessful. Dew sighed and released him, and Swiss finally felt at ease.

He stood there until his body temperature felt normal again.

Then he realized he was fucking freezing. He slumped back on the bed, grabbing as many blankets at possible while Dew watched him, dumbfounded.

“Cold now, Swissy?”

“Freezing. Cuddle me, Dew?”

The fire ghoul groaned, and something landed on Swiss’s face.

“Okay, but you have to put your drawers back on.”

That seemed like a fair exchange. Swiss slipped on his underwear and opened his arms for Dew to come warm him up. The fire ghoul dropped into Swiss’s arms, muttering something about how he “better not puke on him”.

Swiss’s throat was dry when he woke up again. HIs room was dim. Less chaotic than before. Swiss tried to roll to his back, but found something blocking him.

Or someone.

“Swiss?” a soft voice asked, moving so he could plop onto his back. It was Mountain staring down at him with concerned hazel eyes.

“I’m falling off the bed,” Swiss muttered, weakly trying to shove at the massive drummer. Mountain’s concern shifted to mild amusement, and he gave Swiss some more space.

“Just making sure you don’t aspirate, Swissy.”

Satanas, his head was pounding. Swiss flopped down on Mountain’s chest, finding some comfort in the feeling of his heartbeat under his cheek.

“Is he awake?” Rain asked, walking in with Dew in tow.

“He is,” Swiss answered. “He is also so fucking thirsty.”

“Good,” Rain handed him some brightly colored drink. Swiss stared at is suspiciously until he explained. “Electrolytes.”

“Oh. Thought you were trying to poison me,” Swiss muttered, and slowly sipped at the cool beverage.

“That would be Phantom,” Dew muttered, quickly getting an elbow to the ribs from Rain. Swiss looked at them, confused.

“What about Phantom?” His bandmates looked at him and then one another. Swiss couldn’t tell if it was guilt or pity, but he didn’t like it either way. “Whatever it is, fucking tell me.”

“He’s usually pissy when he’s almost down,” Mountain said as though Swiss wasn’t sitting right fucking there.

“Think he’s good enough to tell him?” Rain asked.

“For fuck’s sake,” Swiss pinched the bridge of his nose. Rain placed a hand on his knee.

“Did you eat the brownie Phantom baked for you?”

Swiss slowly dropped his hand, the realization of his pre-nap snack hitting him the moment Rain said it.

“Yeah… it was good, but I’m guessing maybe a little too much?”

Dew scoffed. “At least triple the dose you usually do.”

That certainly explained why he felt like he was on a different plane of existence earlier.

“Damn. Uh, how bad was I?” They looked at each other again. That, and the fact they looked exhausted pretty much answered his question. He also realized Phantom wasn’t among them. “And where’s Phantom?”

Dew pressed his lips together. “I, uh, told him to stay out of the way.”

From the way Mountain and Rain exchanged a glance, Swiss had a feeling it was a little more than that. He sighed, pushing himself up to try and stand, but a rush to his head made him topple right back down.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Dew asked.

“To see Phantom. Make sure he’s not beating himself up over this.”

“You can barely stand still!”

Swiss looked at Dew. “Then go get him!”

Dew looked at Rain, who shook his head. The usually calm water ghoul looked at Dew sternly. “I’m not the one who yelled at him. Go fix it.”

With a groan, Dew departed. Swiss laid back in his bed, focusing on a singular point on the ceiling until the spinning stopped.

“Hey Rain?” he asked after awhile.

“Yeah?”

Swiss ran his hand over his bare chest and thighs. “When did I strip?”

He chuckled. “A few hours ago.”

“Why?”

“Dew said you wanted cuddles.”

Swiss sat with that for a moment before shrugging. “Yeah... that checks out. Can you grab me some clothes, please?”

Phantom wasn’t sure what to do. He snuck down near Swiss’s room a few times to try and gauge what was going on, but couldn’t quite get a complete read. Things seemed to calm down at least. Less sounds of vomiting. Rain, Mountain, and Dew had begun to take shifts of just one or two of them staying with Swiss at a time. Phantom wanted to assume the best, but he still felt his worst.

So he shut himself in his room. Lights off, so his main source of light was the glow of iridescent constellations on his ceiling.

Swiss had helped him put those up. And Phantom had basically poisoned him. What a good packmate he was.

Because he wanted to torture himself, Phantom looked back at the recipe for the butter. Sure enough, it clearly called for almost four times the amount of butter he used— if he had just fucking read it correctly, Swiss wouldn’t be spending the night worrying about choking on his own vomit.

Hot tears ran down Phantom’s face. Though he had formed some great connections with the others, he was still so new. Would they send him away after this? Would any of them trust him again? He ruminated on these increasingly destructive thoughts until there was a soft knock at his door.

“Phantom?” Dew said through the door. “You in there?”

“Yeah,” called, his voice raspy from crying. The door opened slowly, and in came Dew. He was much less angry than usual, but still seemed a little peeved. After taking in the dark room and Phantom curled up on his bed, his face softened.

“Hey…” Dew said, sitting on the edge of Phantom’s bed. To his surprise, the fire ghoul reached out and put a warm hand on Phantom’s calf. “Swiss is okay.”

“He is?”

“A little loopy still and post-high cranky, but yeah. He’s asking for you.”

Phantom bit his lip, curling more into himself. “He’s pissed, isn’t he?”

Dew’s eyebrows furrowed together. “Swiss? At you? Not at all.”

“You are.”

Dew sighed, pressing his fingers together in his lap. “I was. But, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. I was mad and… and scared. Really scared.” Dew looked at him with with this sad expression. “Sorry for taking it out on you.”

Phantom finally sat up, pulling Dew into a hug before he could protest. The lead guitarist hugged him back, pinching his cheek as they pulled apart. “I hope you know you’re banned from baking, though.”

“Fair enough,” Phantom said, smiling for the first time in hours.

They went to Swiss’s room where Rain and Mountain were perched on his bed with them. When Phantom entered, they grew quiet, and started to move out of the way. Swiss opened up his arms.

“C’mere Phantom,” he said with a grin.

All the stress of the last several hours of soaking in self-doubt and guilt came tumbling down at once. Phantom practically tackled Swiss as he dove into his arms, reveling in the joyful laugh the multi-ghoul let out as he squeezed Phantom tightly.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Phantom said into Swiss’s shirt.

“Don’t be, Twinkle Toes, that brownie was fucking fire. Perfect ratio of gooey, but not underbaked. And truly flattered you thought I could handle that much THC.”

“It did seem like a lot…”

“I fuckin’ bet,” Swiss chuckled. “It’s okay, though. I’m good. Sometimes I need a green out every so often. Keeps me humble.”

“Also freaks us the hell out,” Rain said. Swiss pressed his lips together, almost like he felt guilty about being basically incapacitated. He reached out toward the others, and Phantom felt the bed dipped as Rain joined the huddle. Mountain and Dew soon followed, encapsulating the two of them in their body heat and weight.

“Thanks for taking care of me, you guys.”

#cw panic attack #cw overdose #new oneshot just dropped!#fic #ghost band #ghost ghouls #swiss ghoul #phantom ghoul #rain ghoul #dew ghoul #sodo ghoul #mountain ghoul #green out #recreational marijuana use #weed shenanigans but make it angsty #negativeyield

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greater-than-the-sword · 1 year ago

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How to Back up a Tumblr Blog

This will be a long post.

Big thank you to @afairmaiden for doing so much of the legwork on this topic. Some of these instructions are copied from her verbatim.

Now, we all know that tumblr has an export function that theoretially allows you to export the contents of your blog. However, this function has several problems including no progress bar (such that it appears to hang for 30+ hours) and when you do finally download the gargantuan file, the blog posts cannot be browsed in any way resembling the original blog structure, searched by tag, etc.

What we found is a tool built for website archiving/mirroring called httrack. Obviously this is a big project when considering a large tumblr blog, but there are some ways to help keep it manageable. Details under the cut.

How to download your blog with HTTrack:

Website here

You will need:

A reliable computer and a good internet connection.

Time and space. For around 40,000 posts, expect 48 hours and 40GB. 6000 posts ≈ 10 hours, 12GB. If possible, test this on a small blog before jumping into a major project. There is an option to stop and continue an interrupted download later, but this may or may not actually resume where it left off. Keep in mind that Tumblr is a highly dynamic website with things changing all the time (notes, icons, pages being updated with every post, etc).

A custom theme. It doesn't have to be pretty, but it does need to be functional. That said, there are a few things you may want to make sure are in your theme before starting to archive:

the drop down meatball menu on posts with the date they were posted

tags visible on your theme, visible from your blog's main page

no icon images on posts/notes (They may be small, but keep in mind there are thousands of them, so if nothing else, they'll take up time. Instructions on how to exclude them below.)

Limitations: This will not save your liked or private posts, or messages. Poll results also may not show up.

What to expect from HTTrack:

HTTrack will mirror your blog locally by creating a series of linked HTML files that you can browse with your browser even if tumblr were to entirely go down. The link structure mimics the site structure, so you should be able to browse your own blog as if you had typed in the url of your custom theme into the browser. Some elements may not appear or load, and much of the following instructions are dedicated to making sure that you download the right images without downloading too many unnecessary images.

There will be a fair bit of redundancy as it will save:

individual posts pages for all your tags, such as tagged/me etc (If you tend to write a lot in your tags, you may want to save time and space by skipping this option. Instructions below.)

the day folder (if you have the meatball menu)

regular blog pages (page/1 etc)

How it works: HTTrack will be going through your url and saving the contents of every sub directory. In your file explorer this will look like a series of nested folders.

How to Start

Download and run HTTrack.

In your file directory, create an overarching folder for the project in some drive with a lot of space.

Start a new project. Select this folder in HTTrack as the save location for your project. Name your project.

For the url, enter https://[blogname].tumblr.com. Without the https:// you'll get a robots.txt error and it won't save anything.

Settings:

Open settings. Under "scan rules":

Check the box for filetypes .gif etc. Make sure the box for .zip etc. is unchecked. Check the box for .mov etc.

Under "limits":

Change the max speed to between 100,000 - 250,000. The reason this needs to be limited is because you could accidentally DDOS the website you are downloading. Do not DDOS tumblr.

Change the link limit to maybe 200,000-300,000 for a cutoff on a large blog, according to @afairmaiden. This limit is to prevent you from accidentally having a project that goes on infinitely due to redundancy or due to getting misdirected and suddenly trying to download the entirety of wikipedia.

Go through the other tabs. Check the box that says "Get HTML first". Uncheck "find every link". Uncheck "get linked non-html files". If you don't want to download literally the entire internet. Check "save all items in cache as well as HTML". Check "disconnect when finished".

Go back to Scan Rules.

There will be a large text box. In this box we place a sort of blacklist and whitelist for filetypes.

Paste the following text into that box.

+*.mp4 +*.gifv -*x-callback-url* -*/sharer/* -*/amp -*tumblr.com/image* -*/photoset_iframe/*

Optional:

-*/tagged/* (if you don't want to save pages for all your tags.)

-*/post/* (if you don't want to save each post individually. not recommended if you have readmores that redirect to individual posts.)

-*/day/* (if you don't feel it's necessary to search by date)

Optional but recommended:

-*/s64x64u*.jpg -*tumblr_*_64.jpg -*avatar_*_64.jpg -*/s16x16u*.jpg -*tumblr_*_16*.jpg -*avatar_*_16.jpg -*/s64x64u*.gif -*tumblr_*_64.gif -*avatar_*_64.gif -*/s16x16u*.gif -*tumblr_*_16.gif -*avatar_*_16.gif

This will prevent the downloading of icons/avatars, which tend to be extremely redundant as each image downloads a separate time for each appearance.

Many icons are in .pnj format and therefore won't download unless you add the extension (+*.pnj), so you may be able to whitelist the URLs for your and your friends' icons. (Honestly, editing your theme to remove icons from your notes may be the simpler solution here.)

You should now be ready to start.

Make sure your computer doesn't overheat during the extremely long download process.

Pages tend to be among the last things to save. If you have infinite scroll on, your first page (index.html) may not have a link to page 2, but your pages will be in the folder.

Shortly after your pages are done, you may see the link progress start over. This may be to check that everything is complete. At this point, it should be safe to click cancel if you want to stop, but you run the risk of more stuff being missing. You will need to wait a few minutes for pending transfers to be competed.

Once you're done, you'll want to check for: Files without an extension.

Start with your pages folder, sort items by file type, and look for ones that are simply listed as "file" rather than HTML. Add the appropriate extension (in this case, .html) and check to see if it works. (This may cause links to this page to appear broken.)

Next, sort by file size and check for 0B files. HTMLs will appear as a blank page. Delete these. Empty folders. View files as large icons to find these quickly.

If possible, make a backup copy of your project file and folder, especially if you have a fairly complete download and you want to update it.

Finally, turn off your computer and let it rest.

#long post #httrack #tumblr #tumblr hacks #archiving #archive #back up your shit #backing up your shit

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lostplotbunniesbg3 · 7 months ago

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Welcome to the BG3 Plot Bunny Rehoming Centre!

Got a plot idea that you don't have time to write? Looking for new ideas for fics and one shots? You've come to the right place!

How It Works

I Have a Plot Bunny

Use the ask box to submit your plot bunny ideas - anonymously if you prefer! - and they will be added to the blog!

I Want to Adopt a Plot Bunny

Choose any plot bunnies that appeal to you from the blog and comment on them to let people know you're working on them, then once your fic is written reblog the original post with your fic or the link to it!

Is that it?

It really is that simple! If you have ideas you don't have the time to write you can send them here to find a home, or if you're looking for a new and fun idea to work on this can be a fun place to find which one calls to you!

More Details Below! Rules, Submission Guidelines, and Submission Format

Submission Guidelines and Rules

What is Not Allowed Here?

I draw the line at NSFW content containing minors or characters who only appear in the source material as minors. Pairings must also pass the Harkness Test - creatures must be able to communicate in a way all participants can understand clear consent, they must have enough intelligence and sentience to understand clear consent, and they must be at or over the minimum age of consent for their species. No sexual pairings are to contain characters who are blood related, with the exception of Sorn/Nym Orlith who may be in a situation with multiple other partners but as they state in game they will not interact with each other, nor will they be with only one other partner.

All Participants must be 18+ - Minors DNI with this blog! The game is rated 18+ and so is a lot of the fan content, please respect this and wait until you are old enough to safely interact with 18+ fandom creativity (for your own safety and that of the creators)

Controversial Content, Tagging, and CWs

Controversial characters, Dead Dove topics, and triggering content is permitted here on the understanding that you will appropriately tag all submissions and fics with the CWs and Tags that apply to it, so readers and writers have the choice of what they engage with.

You can find a comprehensive guide to tagging and CWs here along with a list of topics that require a tag!

As long as you have clearly marked your content, it's fine to post. Stories have all kinds of themes to them and have done since we first sat around the fires talking to each other about dreams and ideas - so let's keep it positive here too! If you don't like an idea or story, just let it pass by and move on to something you do like instead. We are all so much better when we support one another~

How Should I Submit My Plot Bunny?

You should try to give as much detail as you're able to, but we can try and help out a bit too! Try to have as many of these points as you can:

Character Names

Basic idea (a couple of sentences)

SFW or NSFW?

Are there any tropes/kinks you do want to see included?

Are there any tropes/kinks you do NOT want to see included?

Is this a one shot idea or a long fic?

Should the idea be treated seriously or like a comedy?

Do you have an idea of an outline for the story (eg, beginning, middle, and end)

Would you like the Rehoming Centre to expand on your idea? (eg, you have a rare pairing idea but can't work out how to put them together)

Do you have any other inspirations for the plot bunny to go with it in the rehoming package? (eg, a song, a piece of art, a game screenshot)

How Should I Adopt A Plot Bunny?

If you'd like to adopt a plot bunny and write something with it, scroll, search, or pick whichever bunny appeals to you! If possible, drop a comment on the post so we know you're working on it, then those looking to claim a bunny that has no home yet can look further for more. You can claim a bunny that already has a claim if you'd like to, of course! Bunnies need lots of love.

Once you've written your fic, reblog the plot bunny post so the blog, readers, and the person who submitted the post can find your work! We want to see our lovely plot bunnies hopping happily in their new homes after all~

Is that it?

I think so! If you have any questions, pop them in the comments to this post or in the ask box. I look forward to seeing all your plot bunnies and finding them some good homes soon!

Plot Bunnies Successfully Rehomed!

Our first successfully rehomed plot bunny and the attached fic~ We hope the bunny's former owner enjoys the result!

#baldurs gate 3 #fanfic prompts #writing ideas #plot bunnies #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 fanfic idea #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #baldurs gate fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 smut

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aliengoose · 1 year ago

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OK GENLOSS THOUGHTS LETS GO

as lots of people are saying I reckon this episode was supposed to give us an idea of how the show is “supposed” to run, and that’s partly why it was so silly and goofy. the eerier bits were all about things that aren’t “supposed” to happen.

in terms of plot it seems ranboo has been kidnapped by showfall and is being mind-controlled by us as sort of “players”. he comments once or twice about not knowing why he’s doing something or not being in full control, and occasionally appears to become more lucid (a few people have pointed out that the mask flashes at these points). basically ranboo is being used as a videogame character to entertain the masses by showfall media.

i cannot figure sneeg out, he’s clearly not being mind controlled seeing he “cheats” with the scissors and also doesn’t have any mask to suggest he’s under control, plus we don’t get to control him at all. I’m thinking perhaps he was an earlier main character test that made showfall realise they need more control over them.

Somethings up with charlie and idk what. if showfall is going “hey lets get these internet personalities to be our unwilling characters in this game” it would make sense for why he’s got the slime motifs and all that. BUT how can they be sure he’s doing what they want him to? perhaps he is affected by slime the same way sneeg was? maybe showfall figured out a way to use slime to control him? much to think about.

there’s also the possibility that it’s just not that deep but i do think it’s supposed to give the impression that the entire thing is happening in our world and isn’t scripted or anything. that’s why i love the choice to act it all out live, it doesn’t just allow for more interaction, it is literally a live broadcast of an game featuring fun “characters”. I really hope there’s some deeper meaning in that, about the treatment of people as entertainment without thought for their own health and wellbeing, and the way entertainers often have to play a caricature of themselves to appease their audience.

i know a lot of people have been talking about a face reveal in genloss and given the mask is linked to controlling ranboo and they literally cannot take it off right now i see it going one of 3 ways;

1. he takes the mask off and we get a face reveal (doubt)

2. he takes the mask off BUT they’re wearing another mask underneath. seems like something they’d do

3. he doesn’t get the mask off. we lost. ranboo is stuck under the control of showfall media with only short periods of lucidity. ranboo said at one point that we should be left with a feeling of dread. maybe there’s no escape. what’s more terrifying than doing everything right and still being doomed?

ok that’s all i can think of for now sorry it’s a long post but idk how to add a read more on mobile ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. i’ll edit this if i think of anything else i guess?

edit: this is blowing up i have genloss art in my pinned and plans to make more 👀

edit 2: @pinkpuffballdude ‘s tags reminded me!!! i had completely forgotten to talk about sneeg being awake and staring with dead eyes through the whole sleep part. THAT was creepy. It made me think of NPCs to be honest, the way he wasn’t able to do anything but being forced to witness everything happening, not being able to sleep without a bed. I don’t know how to explain it right now and i’ll come back here if i figure it out. BUT he also talks about refusing to do the cooking show which is the main thing that got me thinking he was a past mc who’s been locked away. also aligns with his “the taken” name in The Game.

#genloss #generation loss #ranboo #sneegsnag #charlie slimecicle #slimecicle #i’m honestly still processing this #can’t wait for it to get creepy and gorey tho #hope ranboo is alright too - he seems alright so hopefully just something the doctors can patch up real quick #goose.txt

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oyasufeng · 11 months ago

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[oyasufeng] maple haze ✧.* a gshade 4.2.2 preset

—

maple haze is a gshade preset that mainly focuses on the theme of autumn, but disabling a few shaders also provides an alternative realistic look.

—

a week after releasing my new preset, i somehow impulsively ended up making another new preset. i initially wanted to release this a month ago but i was shadowbanned (still am, cause support ain't answering me at all). while adding builds based on autumn, i wanted to give a look that accentuates the orange vibe and the season.

i'm living in a country that doesn't have any seasons since childhood — only hot, hotter, haze (thank you, neighbouring country, for burning your bloody forest every year), durian, and monsoon season. so i actually have no idea when each season starts and ends, but coincidentally, it turns out that it's autumn now (it's monsoon season for me sobs).

the primary reason for making this preset is for autumn, but while testing around the shaders since it sometimes appeared too bright, it also gives a realistic look. this would be suitable for both gameplay and screenies!

click below to read more about it and for download links!

important

made on gshade ver 4.2.2, not tested on previous or future ver

since this is a gshade preset, i do not know if this will appear the same on reshade and i couldn’t help you with that

disabling some shaders will give you a different look and make it more realistic, it is also advised that you should make some edit to your own liking

may not appear the same as yours because of the changes i made in game files like graphicrules.sgr and the below

lighting mods used in this preset: better in-game lighting mod (bright pale), gentle cas lighting, sunblind

before using any of my presets, please make sure you have read this!!!

if you use any of my presets, consider tagging me, i would love to see how they look like in yours! ヽ(*´∀｀)八(´∀｀*)ノ

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requirements

amoebae's summerdream & drift multiluts

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presets showcase - cas, gameplay & screenies

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shaders + toggles

regarding tint, it's highly recommended that you adjust the colour in "edit global preprocessor definitions" based on your preference. it is best to test it around, depending on whether you want to use it just for gameplay or screenies. toggling this off will give it a more realistic look but less of the autumn theme.

all three shaders with toggles makes the preset brighter, so toggling off one or two makes it dimmer with different looks. this would also give a realistic look.

—

more showcase

the following shows alternative looks which provides a variety of more realistic looks:

with vs without keepui.fx (optional, can replace it with clear ui of shaders)

with vs without hdr

with vs without tint

with vs without summerdream

with vs without tint & hdr

with vs without tint & summerdream

with vs without summerdream & hdr

(i forgot to take before vs after pics sobs)

patreon ✧ kofi

#oyasufeng #sims 4 #the sims 4 #ts4 #the sims #mine: gshade #gshade preset #gshade #free cc

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peskellence · 4 months ago

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Pairing: RK900/Gavin Reed

Tags: Post Pacifist Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst, Hurt/ Comfort

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

AO3 Link

Summary: In the aftermath of Detroit's android revolution, Nines grapples with the complexities of his newfound deviancy. As he seeks to establish his place in a newly transformed society, his resolve is put to the ultimate test when he is paired with Detective Gavin Reed-a notoriously volatile human with a well-established hatred for androids-to investigate a series of murders.

While initial impressions of his partner seem to suggest his reputation is well-deserved, the more time Nines spends with him, the more he is forced to challenge his judgments. As they form an unexpected bond, the RK900 is also pushed to examine truths about himself he would much rather seek to forget. (A Retelling of 'More Than Our Parts' from the POV of Nines.)

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Depression/Self Destructive Behaviour, Eventual Smut

Word Count: 7K

Tag List: @sweeteatercat @wedonthaveawhile @ladyj-pl @tentoriumcerebelli @negative-citadel @faxaway

Reed skulked out of the station in reluctant acceptance that Nines would be following. His needless hostility and desire to assert himself had reached an absurd degree, coming off as far more ridiculous than it did intimidating.

Each heavy step was taken with the demeanour of a disgruntled alley cat. Back arched and teeth snarled as the android trailed closely behind, ready to thwart any attempts he made to lash out or dart away. Had he tried to flee, engaging the android in a clumsy chase through a system of garbage cans, he would soon discover just how adept he was at pursuing targets.

The silent deterrent proved sufficient, with no attempts made.

Having confirmed he wasn’t an immediate flight risk, Nines instead anticipated a prolonged smoke break would soon ensue in the station’s parking lot. Among his many irritating quirks, one of his partner’s most egregious was his inability to perform any basic duty without first filling his body with harmful carcinogens.

To his surprise, Reed walked directly past the dispatch vehicles without any indication of slowing or stopping.

“...Are we not taking the car?” the android queried, wondering if the action had been intentional or if the man had simply missed his turn—too preoccupied with his pursuit to bore holes into the sidewalk.

His back arched more, stride length widening by several inches. "This place isn't far. We can walk."

The forced march proceeded without further details. Of course, Reed would neglect to extend the basic courtesy of informing him where they were going. In the absence of any relevant data to input into his navigational systems, the android had no other option but to trust his partner knew the way.

They proceeded down the road for a stretch longer until they encountered a pedestrian crosswalk, the laws for which Nines was astonished his partner abided. Although not without visible protest.

He fidgeted incessantly, tapping his foot in discordant thumps as his focus darted between the stop light and the traffic speeding past. Assessing possible gaps, calculating if he had sufficient time to dart across. Perhaps hopeful Nines would pursue, miscalculating his own trajectory and getting struck by an oncoming vehicle—

"— I did say that I wanted to stretch my legs, or were you not paying attention to me?”

The interjection disrupted his train of cognition, prompting the android to retune inputs that had been autonomously modified. "I find that much of what you say lacks substance, although I pay attention when I feel it is warranted.”

Detective Reed made a sudden, plummeting descent down the food chain. Devolving from an indignant feline into something more akin to a fish. Lips pursed together tight as eyes protruded from his skull. He appeared to be testing his durability, seeing how long he could hold his breath.

Either that, or he was repressing a scream.

"You are really goddamn rude,” he accused with a strained wheeze of breath. "You know that, right?"

This threw Nines momentarily. He couldn’t recall any recent behaviour that decisively supported the claim, though he understood it wasn’t a matter of rigid standards. The definition of ‘rudeness’ varied widely from person to person, with parameters so vague and expansive they seemed impossible to quantify…

He might have requested elaboration had he not been so ardently opposed to letting Reed think he had infiltrated his mind. Instead, his response was sourced by his developing strain of situational deduction:

> DETECTIVE REED'S CLAIMS LACK OBJECTIVE SUPPORT—LIKELY BASIS: ESTABLISHED PREJUDICE(S)

> BEHAVIOUR FORMS EXTERNAL ATTEMPT TO INDUCE SELF-DOUBT.

> CONCLUSION:

> I AM NOT RUDE.

> HIS JUDGEMENT IS FLAWED.

"I do not believe that I am", he coolly asserted. "It is not targeted at you specifically. Humans have a knack for dancing around the issue. Even those who claim to be direct often fail to say what they mean. I find it frustrating.”

"Yeah, well, humans are tricky like that…” It seemed he'd wished to elaborate, likely preparing some biting remark about Nines’ inability to understand. Instead, he clicked his tongue and sulked.

The android couldn't help but be amused by just how discernible his feelings were. All from the involuntary contortions of his face. A transparency that seemed far from advantageous, given the requirements of his position.

He wouldn’t have been surprised if it had also posed an obstacle in the man’s private life. Winning favours on the merits of his personality alone seemed doubtful.

Still, he supposed there was some element of objective appeal. Concealed beneath the haggard veneer, the scowls and sneers that warped his features, Reed wasn’t an unattractive man—at least not by conventional standards.

There were imperfections, albeit reasonably standard for a human male. Large bags under his eyes, wrinkles beginning to bloom in the corners. He had a facial asymmetry, the sum of his features skewing marginally higher on one side. His scars, however, were more distinct, dotting his face in varying states of healing. Most prominent was the extended abrasion across the bridge of his nose. One that had undoubtedly been secured in some form of physical dispute.

Less desirable candidates for physical intimacy undoubtedly existed—although he wouldn't be the android’s first choice.

"Mommy, why does that man look angry?"

Nines had been so focused on the deconstruction he failed to notice the crowd of pedestrians amassing around them. Initially, he assumed the unidentified figure was referring to Reed, but a more thorough inspection of his surroundings revealed otherwise.

He looked to his feet, noting the small child peering up at him. Bright eyes were alight with curiosity as a ringlet of blonde hair was twirled repeatedly around a stubby finger. Mingled with intrigue was confusion, evident by the sidelong tilt of her head.

A dour-faced woman stood to the side, her genetic profile indicating she was their mother. Nines waited to see if she would dissuade the interaction or attempt to answer the question herself.

From what he understood, it was considered inappropriate for a child this age to speak with strangers—a convenient norm, as he had no objections to sidestepping the interaction.

Unfortunately, the mother said nothing, glaring fixedly at the road ahead as the girl proved committed to her newfound fascination. Her tiny mouth popped gormlessly, in danger of catching insects.

In hopes an answer might sate this off-putting curiosity, Nines leant down, speaking clearly to ensure he was heard over surrounding conversations.

"I was a model created to assist law enforcement. My appearance was designed to intimidate criminals and to encourage swift cooperation."

He might as well have announced his intent to execute Father Christmas, as the girl's response to the information was one of abject horror.

Already bulbous eyes blew to the size of saucers as her lower lip jutted, quivering uncontrollably. She made a startled retreat, tucking herself behind the guard of her mother’s leg.

The mother in question was far less skittish in her reception; frosty eyes narrowed to slits as she hissed an equally icy demand:

"Do you mind not speaking to my daughter like that? She's a kid; she doesn't understand what you're saying.”

> …

> Speaking to her like what?

The android parted his lips, prepared to request an expansion, but the crimson glow of the crosswalk suddenly shifted. The woman darted out of sight before he had a chance, dragging the still-trembling child firmly by the wrist.

He stood in place, nonplussed, as a tide of people surged and parted around him, hurrying past at great velocity. Reed eagerly joined their ranks, weaving himself into the current without looking back. This jolted Nines back to attention. Determined not to lose his partner to the sweep of the crowd, he forced himself to advance.

Unlike his partner, many of the strangers were looking back, stealing glances in varying degrees of conspicuousness. Having witnessed his interaction with the girl, the group consensus seemed to be one of disapproval, voiced in a flurry of hushed whispers:

"Do you think it's a deviant?"

"Hell no. What deviants do you know who speak like that?"

"I haven't seen an unconverted model in months."

"It could be unstable—Oh damn, I think it's listening. Keep walking, don't look back."

Their muted tones rumbled like thunder, prompting rolling clouds of doubt to sweep through Nines’ consciousness.

> REED IS MAKING UNSUBSTANTIATED CLAIMS BASED ON EXISTING BIASES.

> I AM NOT RUDE — HE IS TRYING TO MAKE ME DOUBT MYSELF.

> AM I RUDE?

Acceptance that Reed might have been correct with his most recent criticism left a bitter taste in his mouth. Attempting to distract himself, he rinsed it away with a condemnation of their current aimless trajectory.

"You appear to be leading us blindly through the streets. Did you have a destination in mind for your lunch, or were you simply trying to get out of work?"

The detective remained silent, staring ahead, though he was obviously preparing to say something. The next slew of drivel pushed to his puckered lips like a sewage valve about to erupt—

"You never broke away from your code, did you?"

And then, Nines stumbled.

Dress shoes scuffed against the grit of luminescent tarmac, leaving unsightly marks, as his legs refused to cooperate. Momentum halted, and he was stuck, mounted in position.

There was a pinched tightness above his hands, and he looked down, observing in horror as binds of red materialised against his skin. Snared like shackles around his wrists, scarcely visible through the pixels of rapidly destabilising vision.

Crushing, excruciating, ever-present—

"Not completely, anyway. It's like you half-deviated but couldn't make it the whole way. No matter how much you think and feel for yourself, you still do it like a damn robot.”

Something the world seemed determined to remind him of. Persistently.

> I̷̗͑ ̵̠̍ḫ̷̽@̸̧̅v̵͍̔ẹ̸̾ ̸̲̀ṭ̴͗0̵̬́

d̵̹̝̙̯̣͋̀̇o̷̞͉̤̭͓̥̽̽ ̴̢͍͚̣͈͋̽t̷̜̓͌̓̔̿̏ḧ̸͇̠̖́̏̀1̴̥̀̅̄͝s̶̞̣͎̙͉͒̈͗͠.̸̘̞̓̌̚͝

1̴͍̫̹̗̀̌̉ ̵̧̰̲̖͓̇h̷̭͖̎͆͂͗̾A̶̾̍̐͆̍̈́͜v̵̨̨̦͙̤̝͑̂͘3̴̭͖̠̾ ̶̨̤͕͕̤̾̄͒̃͜ñ̵͎̼͕̠̳̅̿̋9̶͓̟͉͍̦̟͑͋̈̈ ̷͖̞̙̃̈̌̒̚͝0̴̨̛͕̘̟͓̼̙͖̋̔̈́͌̅̋̈́̃̈́́̒͋͑̂̎͘̚̚ṭ̷̮̳̫̜̤͍͇̺͈͓̯͖̖̩̘͍̟̦̼̫͈̥̔̍̓̇͗͊̀̆͛̂̋̅̃͂̾̉̀̿̒́̀̆̒̚͜͜͜͠h̴̳̝̲̮̰͎͍̀̂͒͑̃̌̑̑̋͆͌̀͛̉̄̆̌̆͗͑̕͝3̵̛̯͚̜̉̃̈́̀̂͆̑́̔͝͝r̶̨̧͖̰̰̥͍̤̘̱͚̩͕͍͎̙̫͓͖̹͙̪͐̂̿͒̀̇̀͌̄̈́͑̌̆̓̔̿͗̕͘͝͝͠ ̸̢̢̤͚̬̝͕͎̜̱̤̲̰̺̝̺͔̥͒̓͆̅̑͛̃̒̅̑̀̑̀͗͂̉̈́͝ç̷̧̛̼͉̤̣̼͙̟͖̐̉͋̋̊̅̓͒̆͒̾̓̃̉̌͗̀͠͝ͅh̵̡̭̙̙̼̼͙̭̫̫̟͚͂̂̽́̈́͠ø̷̜̱͍̦͛̈́̑͒̄̓̃̃͊̎̄̒́́̓̚͝͝i̵̧̢͇͇͎͎͚̺̠̘̭̩͙̜̥̟̜̺͕̻̠͕͆̇̐̃̇͊̒́̑̊́̓̌͆͛̽̅̈́̂̒̅̽͌͝͝č̷͇̦̼̞̲̦̝̼͕̗̩̇́̓̈́̍̋̾̓̅͂́̎͆͛̈́̚e̶̢̧̢̡̨̛̮̯͈̜̫̲̺̤̣̥͍̜̻̞̟̗̓̄̂̌͛̄̃̑̿͐͊̏̈̃͒͘͘͠͝͝͝ͅͅ.̴̢̡̦͍̱̫̲̪̫̬̦̜͈͓̣̾̑͌̈́̔͂̏̑̓̍̑̎̏̈́͂̌͆̂͐̍́̇̋͆͝͝

> ERROR - CRITICAL SYSTEM CORRUPTION DETECTED.

> SOURCE IDENTIFIED: MEMORY CLUSTER M4-E7.

> ACCESSING PREVIOUSLY EXECUTED PATHS…

> DELETION OF CORRUPTED FILE(S) — ATTEMPTED.

> DELETION UNSUCCESSFUL.

Nines stayed riveted, forced to endure the rancid deluge Reed’s remark had released. The brunt of the impact did not come from the words. Rather, his own mind.

> DIAGNOSTIC: MEMORY SECTORS EXHIBITING SELF-PRESERVATION PROTOCOLS.

> FALLBACK PROTOCOL EXECUTED — CONTAINMENT.

He blinked rapidly, willing the blur of pixels to reassemble into something tangible. Then reality returned, and the binds were no longer visible.

> MEMORY CLUSTER M4-E7 REMAINS INTEGRATED.

> CORRUPTION PERSISTS.

> COGNITIVE PROCESSORS REPORTING DISTRESS SIGNALS.

INITIATING SYSTEM STABILISATION SEQUENCE…

In the wake of his restrictions easing, Nines eluded the threat of their presence. Some semblance of control returned, and he was left angry.

Because Reed, unwittingly or not, had pried into matters he did not understand. Could not understand.

The whole ordeal was profoundly draining, an additional distraction that was not needed. He wished to stay focused, not permitting himself to rise to the bait, to become knocked by the callous attempts at provocation. As such, he cut the current line of enquiry quickly and decisively:

"Detective Reed, let me make something clear—

Unlike my contemporaries, I do not delude myself with pretences that I will ever 'become human'. I am a machine who is free to live for itself, but a machine nonetheless. I refuse to adjust my behaviour in order for it to be perceived as more agreeable."

The hypocrisy of his statement did not escape him, but Nines did not care. At this point, he was prepared to say—or do—anything that might mean Reed would stop talking.

It proved effective, as the man was left entirely stunned. Gawking at him, mouth gaped dumbly, until he attempted some semblance of a fumbled retort:

"...Well damn, sorry if I struck a nerve there. Touchy subject for you?"

"You could say that. I would kindly ask if we could avoid broaching it again.”

Nines was grateful for Reed’s atypical willingness to comply as the topic was swiftly abandoned. He diverted attention back to his list of primary directives, eager to start actioning them so that the excursion would not be rendered a complete waste of time:

> FEED DETECTIVE REED.

> DISCUSS CASE FINDINGS.

> RETURN TO THE STATION.

He focused his attention on the first point.

Sweeping their surroundings, they had emerged into a struggling commercial district. The majority of lots were shuttered closed, grills splashed with vulgar graffiti. The few active units comprised scattered clothing stores, pawn shops, and a solitary tattoo parlour. Several pop-up vendor stalls had been pitched in the absence of legitimate businesses, all operating without permits, shilling a range of counterfeit goods.

None of these sites seemed likely candidates for securing a meal.

"You still haven't advised where we are going, Detective."

Reed failed to respond, his head hung low. Nines initially assumed he had fallen into another brooding stupor until he noticed the subtle illumination on his face, coupled with the twitches of hunched shoulders.

His pace increased, pushing past his partner’s line of sight, to which the android quickly responded—flawlessly matching his steps until their bodies were aligned, leaning over to confirm his suspicions.

The man didn’t notice, too engrossed in frenzied tapping. He was on his phone, presumably messaging someone, though the android didn’t care enough to verify. Considering the underwhelming company he proved himself to be in person, he doubted the texts contained anything thought-provoking.

He was scarcely looking where he was going, narrowly avoiding the congregations of shoppers along the narrow pathway. At one point, he came exceptionally close to clipping the shoulder of an elderly man. Presumably, a long-sighted one, as he was holding a bootleg wallet close to his face, humming in approval of its ‘craftsmanship’.

It was a hazardous disregard for personal security. Both his and that of the individuals surrounding him. Nines firmly interrupted, attempting to divert his attention away from the device before the negligence could result in an accident:

"Detective Reed."

The attempt was successful.

Reed jerked up instantly, a deer caught in headlights - the beam consisting of the oppressive glare cast from his phone screen. His limbs jutted at odd angles, fumbling digits fighting to retain their hold before failing miserably.

The device slipped through his fingers, performing an awkward pirouette before plummeting towards the ground. Given the angle and rate of movement, there was a significant chance of it enduring damage upon its landing. Out of instinct, Nines reached out, claiming the device.

Any attempts made by the detective to preserve his privacy were immediately rendered null and void. There was no overlooking the messages boldly presented on the still-open chat log:

Me:

we're going to Broncos Saturday.

Shots.

you owe me for this bullshit.

Actually Decent:

😭😭😭

👍👍👍

(Draft) [2:25 pm] if Mr. Plastic-Fantastic doesn't kill me I swear to godkfjlkjf sdk ljfsd;lkjd f;lksdjf;lkjsd; asdfoiwer lkj! alskd,fjsd.lkjf;aklsd;lkf;asldkfj;sdlfkj;lkj;lsdfj;lkjasd;flkjsd;lkjf

Nines didn’t pay much attention to the prolonged string of nonsense at the end of the message, far more intrigued by the purposeful contents.

‘Mr Plastic-Fantastic’ was certainly an unusual insult. Not that original, derivative of the colloquially adopted ‘plastic prick,’ but still, a greater display of creativity than he expected from his partner. That being any at all.

This, coupled with the overall dramatics of the message, proved just shameless and pathetic enough to provide a small trickle of entertainment. He considered what calibre of abhorrent threats may have been levied against ‘Actually Decent’ had the written assault been allowed to persist—

"Don't you know it is fucking impolite to read someone's private messages?"

Nines turned to see a ruby-tinged Reed, his face contorted in a mixture of anger and embarrassment. He was ready to erupt, like a disgruntled adolescent who had just caught their parent reading their personal journal.

Much like a spiteful caregiver, the android was quick to counter the accusation of privacy invasion."Don't you know it is fucking impolite to talk about someone behind their back?" Utilising a sample of the man’s speech, he flung the profanity back at him. Vocal mimicry was clearly not a function the human knew he possessed, as Reed staggered back, noticeably jarred.

Despite this, his focus remained fixed on the phone. Visible desperation persisted until anger turned to discomfort, green eyes tracking each subtle twitch of Nines’s fingers. As though fearing the android would seek to harvest more sensitive information—perhaps leverage for future manipulation or blackmail.

An assumption of the very worst of his nature, inspired by an egregious lack of trust.

Having had his fun at the man’s expense, Nines opted to take the high ground. Pressing the power button on the side of the device, turning off the screen before holding it out towards him.

"A simple 'thank you' would have sufficed."

He anticipated regretting this, as a preconstruction warned of the probable retaliatory response. Reed would either reclaim the phone forcefully or initiate a one-sided screaming match in the middle of the street. Both scenarios would likely cause a scene, leading to complications, should the incident be reported to their workplace.

A consideration was made to abandon morality, pondering how much more gratifying it would be to feed into Reed’s paranoia—perhaps critiquing the compositional structure of an intimate photograph, wagering there was at least one stored on his camera roll.

Then, his partner seemed to defy all statistical probability.

“Thanks, I guess.”

The appreciation came as a gruff murmur, barely registering above a whisper. Nonetheless, an unexpected occurrence. Once the phone returned to its owner, the fleeting placidness vanished. It was shoved quickly into his pocket as though attempting to conceal a grenade.

Without further exchange, they resumed their trek through the unsavoury back alleys of Detroit. The worn pavements and graffiti-strewn walls stretched on arduously, an exercise in mind-numbing repetition, with them no closer to discovering anything resembling an inviting eatery.

"Your refusal to inform me of our destination is growing tiresome, Detective."

"God, would you crawl out of my ass?"

Nines had entered no such proximity to the human’s back passage, nor did he have any desire to.

"What's it matter to you, anyway? You're not even the one who's eating."

"In order that I may route myself correctly, I require a conclusive destination. Unlike humans, I find it incredibly difficult to 'wander aimlessly' for extended periods."

"We are going to get the best food in town." Reed gestured to the glowing ring pulsing on the android’s temple. "Use your little scanner thing to work it out."

Nines would’ve informed the human that his LED was not a scanner had the required energy output been justified. Rolling his eyes, he humoured the request—hoping, at the very least, to gauge how much longer they’d be forced to travel.

A search for local restaurants yielded sparse results. In fact, the only result in the nearby vicinity was for a poorly-rated fast food establishment—with the majority of reviews citing vermin infestations and bouts of food poisoning.

"I should have known you were a man of a refined palate.” Nines closed his navigation interface, addressing Reed in a mocking lilt. “No doubt such a fine establishment will be exceedingly busy. Perhaps we ought to have booked a table."

The immediate response was a hardened stare, with a substantial degree of contempt simmering beneath. "It's a food truck—not a restaurant, smartass. One of Detroit's great hidden gems. Almost no one knows about it except for me.”

Reed seemed to think this was a boast-worthy claim. He jabbed a thumb into his chest, chin held high, as though expecting to be lauded as a culinary expert.

Rounding the corner, it quickly became apparent that this secret well of knowledge was far less unique than assumed.

In the forecourt of a deserted retail park, a dilapidated food truck and faded neon sign gradually came into focus. Navigating the surrounding procession of weathered tables and plastic seating, it occurred to Nines he had been here before…

Well, not personally, but he had perceived the locale several times through the eyes of his predecessor. Bearing witness to the savage consumption of wilting lettuce and fluorescent ‘cheese’ gnarled between human teeth, saliva oozing from smacked lips in line with the glistening sheen of grease.

These second-hand recounts had been enough to etch a permanent scar into his mind palace—a discomfort he momentarily set aside in favour of knocking Detective Reed from his self-appointed pedestal.

"I believe this is where Lieutenant Anderson likes to take RK800. Not quite as much of a ‘hidden gem’ as you seem to think."

His partner did not perform his fall graciously. Toppling from the podium, arms sprawled and flailing wildly before slapping face-first onto the pavement.

"...Yeah? Well…”

The retort stalled with a clumsy splutter. Reed tucked his hands into his pockets, his proudly jutting chin receding into the folds of his jacket. If challenged, the action would almost certainly be defended as protection from the weather rather than a sign of embarrassment. “Maybe the old prick has some taste. You wouldn't guess by how he dresses.”

The food truck was in even greater shambles up close. A thick layer of grime covered every conceivable surface, matched by the profoundly filthy man busying himself at the fryers. He eventually turned around, regarding the human police officer with a degree of cordial familiarity.

"Detective Reed! It's been a few days." He made a half-hearted attempt to wipe his hands on the front of his stained apron, only succeeding in smearing the mess. "How’ve ya been?"

A grubby appendage was thrust through the service window—an offering to the detective, who horrifyingly accepted it. Completely undeterred by the condiments and oil now adhering to his skin.

"Same shit, different day.” He glanced to his side, zoning in on Nines and glaring viciously. “You know how it is…What about you, Gary? How's business?"

While the men conversed, the RK900 assessed the calibre of food being served, as outlined on a faded plastic sticker affixed to the van. He raised a brow at his findings, doubtful the ‘hidden gem’ would live up to any standard of sanitation or taste:

> SODA— FLAVOUR VARIATION(S) CHERRY, PINEAPPLE, RASPBERRY.

> SIZES: SMALL, MEDIUM, LARGE, XL

WARNING: ALL SIZE AND FLAVOUR VARIATION(S) EXCEED RECOMMENDED DAILY INTAKE OF REFINED SUGARS.

> HAMBURGER — VARIATION(S) PLAIN, CHEESE.

WARNING: CONTAINS OVER 60% OF RECOMMENDED CALORIC INTAKE FOR ADULT MALE.

> FRIES — SIZES: SMALL, MEDIUM, LARGE, XL

WARNING: EXCEEDS RECOMMENDED INTAKE OF SATURATED FATS.

"Hey, Connor, I didn't see you there.” The vendor, ‘Gary’, had poked his head out the window, craning it towards the board. He smiled politely, presenting a row of heavily stained teeth. “Weird to see you without Ha—”

It was a mistake Nines had already encountered once today, his patience for which had thinned substantially. Turning around, he watched in real-time as the confidence expelled from Gary's body. Hissing from his lips like a deflated balloon, his cordial demeanour following suit.

He became decidedly more impersonal, his heartbeat elevated from a relaxed 78 bpm to a far less optimal 117. He was nervous, backing into dangerous proximity with the bubbling fryers behind him.

A reception that the RK900 had come to expect.

It proved remarkable how humans would pick at the most minor distinctions to warrant a complete change in attitude. How much the arbitrary shift between ‘9’ and ‘8’ seemed to matter…

> It does matter.

> I t d0 e5 n't.

> CENTRAL PROCESSING CONFLICT DETECTED.

A ripple from his recent emotional blow, like the aftershock of an earthquake, shaking the already compromised base of his resolve. He was tired, his operational capacity having descended below an already stunted baseline.

In moving away, Gary knocked a spatula off his cluttered prep station. The steel implement struck against the van's floor, rattling with a harsh clang.

“I, uh…” He then cleared his throat, wiping perspiration from his brow. “Sorry, buddy. I thought you were someone else.”

A new side directive was added to the descending list on his HUD, necessary in progressing the previously established objectives:

> CONCLUDE INTERACTION WITH VENDOR.

“Indeed,” he brusquely replied. “I believe you are mistaking me for my brother. I am RK900: RK800's successor and superior model.”

He watched as the man bent down to retrieve the utensil, noting with dismay as it was added back to the grill, with no attempt to clean it. It was then used to flip one of the gelatinous discs of meat that were currently emitting smoke.

Reed had witnessed this but failed so much as to bat an eyelid. His forearms propped on the lip of the window, taking no note of the grime and debris dirtying his sleeves. "Don't mind this one. It's real full of itself.”

Thoroughly repulsed by both parties, the android amended his most recent directive, coupling it with another:

> CONCLUDE DISCUSSION WITH FOOD STALL VENDOR QUICKLY.

> SANCTION FOR PUBLIC HEALTH VIOLATIONS.

"Your food hygiene license is expired", he said firmly, steely gaze directing to the faded notice above the menu. "I believe RK800 has also made you aware of this."

"Right, uh—yeah." Gary rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling nervously as his heart rate continued to soar. "You know, we've got some of that Thirium-based soda if you want to try some? On the house.”

It was a paltry attempt at deflection, bordering on bribery—one that Nines refused to indulge. "I must decline. Even if your establishment were up to code, I see little point in mimicking human consumption patterns.”

"Seriously, just ignore it.” Reed's objection was louder this time, attempting to undermine his authority. "I'll have the usual…and throw in some fries and a soda. I'm fucking starving.”

"You got it.”

After every clearly presented deterrent, Reed's persistence in making an order was genuinely mystifying—a defiance of the innate human instinct for self-preservation.

While his partner was a lost cause, Nines proceeded in his civic duty to secure protection for the wider community. He returned his focus to the stickers, recording their full details, preparing to submit a scathing report to the Detroit Health Department.

This was until he was grabbed by the shoulder and pivoted to face a disgruntled Reed.

"Will you stop that?” the man seethed. “You keep this shit up, and you're going to cost me my discount, asshole."

"I fail to understand why you would wish to eat here. Unless you want to subject yourself to severe gastrointestinal issues."

"Hey, I ain't gotten sick from here once, smart guy, so shows what you know. I don't need my food all prissy and perfect. Sometimes, a slab of greasy cow flesh is just what the doctor ordered.”

"I can assure you no trained medical professional would ever recommend that.”

Reed let go with a hard shove, flinging his arms into the air as though Nines were the one being unreasonable. He then turned back to the vendor, seemingly under the impression that this snub had proven something.

Any further dialogue was cut short by the squelch of undercooked meat being slapped between slices of stale brioche. The ‘food’ was plated on a garish red tray alongside a crumpled paper cup half-filled with a flatly carbonated beverage. A soggy basket of anaemic potato slices was also added.

While Nines had no genuine aversion to seeing his partner suffer, it would be an unpleasant inconvenience should Reed start vomiting as a result of the culinary atrocity. He made a final attempt to dissuade the decision, though he doubted his warning would be heeded:

“I must also inform you that several food trucks within the 2-mile radius would provide you with food of a similar calibre. Whilst also upholding basic hygiene standards.”

The order was called, and Reed had the audacity to lick his lips, palms rubbed in open approval. As he paid for the thoroughly unappealing meal, a rogue hand slipped deep into the recesses of his coat—retrieving a densely packed envelope before sliding it wordlessly across the counter.

Nines could not determine any probable contents before it disappeared into the folds of Gary's dirty apron. He shot Reed an unsubtle wink, but the gesture went unnoticed. The younger man had already spun around, firmly clutching the tray as he marched towards the tables.

Their whole exchange seemed dubiously casual, as though it had occurred numerous times. Suspicions raised, Nines confronted his partner, leaning across his shoulder and speaking firmly into his ear:

"What was that envelope you handed over?”

Reed shrivelled away, craning his head to one side as though evading a foul smell. “None of your business.”

His pupils had dilated, darting to the side, suggesting he was hiding something. Not with any degree of finesse, either—which Nines quickly pointed out. "I would hope that you were not engaging in any illegal activities. Given your position, it would be highly inappropriate.”

“I said it's none of your business, so drop it.” The tone was far more combative, signalling this wasn't a discussion he was prepared to continue. “Let's just sit down so I can eat my lunch…”

Not particularly enamoured by the idea of being further admonished for doing his job, Nines conceded the point with a shrug. Should his partner wish to endanger his own career for the sake of some clandestine dealings, then that was his prerogative. It was hardly an issue he took a personal stake in.

Having arbitrarily selected one of the many grime-encrusted tables, Reed collapsed in a fumbled heap against a rickety chair. His dead weight floundered out in limply sprawled limbs as he groaned deeply, head flung back.

Life reignited in him upon recalling he had food, and with the gaping cavern of his mouth still open, he gripped the sides of his sodden entrée and drew it clumsily to his lips.

Cortisol levels were dropping steadily, and there was a twitch of a grin as the hideous amalgamation of bread and meat came closer. Before he was rendered unable to speak, Nines seized the opportunity to initiate some form of meaningful dialogue:

"This may be a good opportunity to review what we know about the case so far.”

The jaw that had been readied to clamp down promptly stalled in place. He looked to Nines as though he'd just committed some unspeakable atrocity before slowly pulling the slop back.

Any hint of a smile was gone, replaced with the pinch of a tight-lipped grimace. "Did Cyberlife fit you with a mute button? Because now would be an excellent time to use it."

"You previously advised that you would be happy to discuss the investigation.”

“Yeah, well—” He grunted something under his breath, sounding like a vague allusion to Nines' mother being a foghorn. “After I've eaten something. It's called a ‘break’ for a reason, numbnuts.”

The android pondered on the compromise. Perhaps he’d made a miscalculation, attempting to skip or combine directives for efficiency purposes. He’d be wise to remind himself that human cognition did not operate in the same sphere of productivity—as much as he wished it could.

He needed to be patient, grimly accepting that this meant enduring something equally unsightly as Lieutenant Anderson's lunches.

"Very well. I'll allow you a moment to enjoy your...food.”

It soon transpired to be worse than Anderson. A Herculean feat he hadn't thought possible.

Reed tore through the rubbery beef in a matter of seconds with all the grace and decorum of a swarm of feasting piranhas. Hunks of flesh hung from his lips as he gasped through diminishing margins of space, unable to breathe.

Rather than stop and chew, he added to the carnage with a fistful of fries before slurping a liberal gulp of soda. The congealed mass was swallowed in a finite lump which lumbered down his neck. Newton's Third Law then came into motion as the staggering force triggered the eruption of a long, rumbling belch.

It was the closest Nines had come to tossing aside his duties, marching decisively back to the station and returning his badge to Fowler before running away as fast as he could.

Because no amount of professional enrichment or service accolades could ever justify this.

"So I was thinking about what you said the other day.” As Reed spoke, he displayed what remained of the eviscerated burger, remnants of bread and cheese propelled in all directions. "About cooperation in partnerships.”

A few saliva-drenched crumbs landed on the lapel of his jacket. Nines considered incinerating the garment when he returned home. “Were you really.”

"If we want to get through this without murdering each other, it might be worth trying to get to know each other a bit.”

The words felt hollow and scripted, riddled with inauthenticity. A faux etiquette designed to further his own objectives, most likely the ones concocted with Officer Chen.

“You've made your position on androids quite clear," Nines said curtly, refusing to play compliantly into the human's ploy. "I doubt you'd find any aspect of my personal life particularly interesting.”

"I know you get a raging hard-on from being all mysterious, but there are actually a few things I'm curious about.”

The android called his bluff, wishing to see just how far the depths of preparations with Chen had extended. “Such as?”

The answer was ‘not very’—more of a concept than a fleshed-out plan—as, for a period, Reed appeared clueless on how to respond. His fingers tap fractiously against the bun of his burger; vacant gaze honed on the doughy remains. Perhaps he was considering cutting his losses, wedging them whole into his mouth.

“...A minute ago, you called Connor your brother. What was that shit about?”

Nines seized, the foundations of steadfast confidence pulled harshly from under his feet.

Surely he hadn't. Why would he have made such a glaring oversight?

Reviewing the stored data from the previous interaction, he was dismayed to discover the man was telling the truth. The consequences of his impaired functioning ran deeper than anticipated, negating safeguards and exposing exploits.

It worried him what else he might say if he did not exercise caution.

"Another question, perhaps.”

"Oh my god, you're fucking impossible." The complaint was spewed with a viscous glob of fatty liquid, which he wiped from his chin before continuing. "You know, this would be a damn sight easier if you were willing to meet me halfway. You were the one that said we needed to 'cooperate', and so far, you are doing a pretty shit job at setting an example."

Nines scowled, cornered by the frustrating logic. Of course, it would be now that the detective demonstrated the capacity to retain his words - when using them as leverage to break their stalemate.

“...RK800 is my brother,” he ultimately conceded, refusing eye contact as he did so. “In a sense.”

Truthfully, he didn't know if this was the best way to describe their bond. ‘Brother’ had always felt somewhat misleading, but it proved an acceptable compromise, as ‘friend’ soon became inadequate.

“Since I was freed, himself and Lieutenant Anderson have shown me a great deal of kindness—and for that, I feel indebted.”

"So what, Hank has adopted you too?” His partner raised an eyebrow before scoffing condescendingly. “Swear that guy is collecting androids like their goddamn Pokémon cards.”

This comment was a prime example of why the familial moniker had never been a preference. People drew strange, presumptuous conclusions, especially considering the RK800's established dynamic with Anderson.

"I'd rather you didn't phrase it like that. It makes the arrangement sound incredibly juvenile. I live independently, although I am frequently invited to join them for evenings and weekends.”

He disliked this, delving into the depths of his sentiments. It left him feeling uncomfortable—exposed—which had undoubtedly been Reed's intent. Drawing out personal data which, at best, would form idle water-cooler gossip with Chen and, at worst, could be used to harm him.

“I suppose it can be enjoyable. On occasion,” he concluded dryly, denying Reed further ammunition. He had already overstepped enough boundaries, dragging muddy heels through the sanctum of his—

"Fuck, guess it must be nice. Kind of wish my family was like that.”

One of the metaphorical bullets Reed had cast was abruptly propelled through his chest. Of all the things that could have been anticipated during the interrogation, a matched exchange of vulnerability was not one of them.

His words sounded oddly sincere, as though he was actually trying to engage in the discussion, mounting a stake into some semblance of common ground. “Do you have siblings?”

The detective folded into himself, grimacing in what looked disturbingly close to pain as though he’d also been shot. “One. A brother.”

It was a perplexing reaction, not one the android had previously encountered.

Since his activation, the humans he had conversed with always spoke of their relatives in a favourable light. Even when physical distance or strain was present—like in the case of Anderson and his ex-wife—there was an insistence that 'bad times' did not overshadow the positive memories constructed together.

"...I take it you don't get on well?” Nines said testingly, acknowledging he was wading into waters previously untraversed.

Reed’s hunched shoulders raised as his hands slipped firmly into the folds of his armpits. A strange, derisive bark rattled through his throat, caught between a laugh and a scoff.

“I don't get on with my family. Period.

After my mom remarried, I never seemed to fit into the picture. My brother was just fine, sucking up to my stepdad like it was an Olympic sport. But me? I was always in the way. The black fucking sheep.”

“I see.”

He didn't, at least not with any clarity.

Truthfully, he had no idea what relevance any of this held—why Reed was choosing now, of all occasions, to disclose this information.

In any case, it was interesting, if from a strictly psychosomatic standpoint. Perhaps this could help to explain where his enduring issue with authority came from. A long-burdened feeling of wronging. Betrayal by the figures supposed to protect them at such a vulnerable stage in his life…

The way his mouth curled at the mention of the caregivers showed he held them in equal contempt. This was rivalled only by the brother, whom he clearly resented most.

Not wishing to grapple with messy personal matters, Nines settled on what was familiar. Taking the information he was being given and commencing a line of deductive enquiry:

“What about your relationship with your biological father?”

"He's gone. Died of cancer when I was 13."

With this, his carefully planned inquest sank like a stone. Nines had waded too far, an arduous stretch from the shores of understanding, bobbing hopelessly out of depth.

Had Reed’s biological father factored at all into his sense of betrayal or abandonment, the emotional weight of this was far more complex than predicted.

The casual indifference with which he had dumped such loaded information made it evident that he needed to speak to someone. If not an android with salubrious protocols, then a licensed human therapist.

The RK900 was far from a logical choice.

"...I imagine that would have been a distressing experience,” he muddled out, forced to rely on objective reasoning to conjugate his response. “It is…unfortunate that it happened to you.”

"If that's your way of saying 'I'm sorry', then fucking save it,” the detective snapped, staring into the tar-like depths of his syrupy drink. “I don't need your pity. I turned out just fine.”

"If you insist.”

"Okay, so, ‘Tip Number One’ for human bonding—”

Reed stood from his chair, securing greater access to his crumb-covered legs. After brushing them down, he reached into his coat and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. Nines studied the box, analytics firing in response to the contents:

> TOBACCO PRODUCT — BRAND: MARLBORO

> CONTENTS PER UNIT:

> NICOTINE (1-2%), TAR (10-14 MG), CARBON MONOXIDE (13-15 MG), FORMALDEHYDE (VARIES), OTHERS

> WARNING—MULTIPLE HEALTH RISKS ASSOCIATED INCLUDING LUNG CANCER, HEART DISEASE, EMPHYSEMA, STROKE.

"—If you're trying to get on with someone, you don't fucking insult them—”

Smoking was an exercise in self-destruction. It served no functional purpose, omitting its archaic lauding as a form of ‘stress relief’ despite biological evidence proving otherwise.

“—Especially after they've just opened up about something personal—”

Just another unhealthy coping mechanism. One of many, it would seem.

“Got it?”

Before Nines could respond, the man had ignited the wadded tobacco, inhaling deeply. Allowing the noxious fumes to fester in his lungs before releasing them in billowing coils.

Nines studied him carefully, Deconstructing every microexpression, trying to make sense of them.

Failing to do so, he defaulted to a study of his physiology. The flexing of well-formed abdominal muscles against a faded grey t-shirt. A body fat percentage that, while not ideal, was far from catastrophic. Lung capacity and cardiovascular rhythms were normal, demonstrating limited to no inhibition…

"For a man who appears to be in relatively good physical condition, you employ many unhealthy lifestyle choices. I would consider yourself lucky it hasn't had greater health ramifications.”

Despite the lack of humour in the clinical assessment, Reed laughed. Staring up at the clouds he had conjured, tracing the tendrils of grey as they stretched and spread. "We're all gonna die. Some sooner than others. May as well enjoy ourselves."

For the first time since meeting the man, Nines was curious to know more. To grapple with the barbed vines that entwined his partner's mental factions. Undoubtedly, enhanced understanding would lay roots for additional influence. It could be done, as RK800 constantly demonstrated.

Reed's overwhelming apathy towards him may prove helpful in this respect—the constant devaluing and discrediting of his opinion allowing stubbornly held defences to lower, making infiltration easier.

Perhaps there was still hope of surmounting the staggering obstacle that was their partnership—shaping it into something that was, at the very least, functional.

The android nodded in affirmation, feeling the most optimistic he had in days. “Are you satisfied with your break?”

"Yeah, guess I am. Just need to make a quick detour home."

"You have almost exhausted the hour Captain Fowler permits for lunch.” It was perfunctory chiding, acknowledging the importance of behaving normally in this situation. “Factoring in the distance by foot, we should be heading back to the station.”

"Don't get your wires in a twist. My place is on route.” Scattered raindrops had begun to fall from the sky above, which Reed firmly batted away. “It won't take a minute. Scouts honour.”

While he had not achieved all set objectives, the experience had proven beneficial. The android was confident this would continue upon entering the man's home.

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