#and then i was disappointed. god the designs have not been hitting

[welcometoteyvat]

yoimiya 2nd story quest ?!?!?!?!

[prettybbychim]

as a non-nilou haver and enjoyer, it just doesn’t feel all that different than what she usually wears. like it hits all the same beats imo

[susicheng]

▬▬ڪ smoke signals . . . p.js

childhood friend! jisung x gn! reader themes: fluff, getting together, first time smoking tgt, getting high, high confessions, high kissing, best friends to lovers, very minor sexual references(?)

in which: you teach a man how to smoke, take a vow of celibacy, and discuss your future children's bedroom designs before the first date. or: weed makes you lose your filter around jisung, which just so happens to be exactly the push you needed.

word count: 1773

smoke billowed up around you two as he exhaled, blowing a cloud out smoothly— until his cough. just one, short burst before he was done. you giggled helplessly as he watched on in confusion. nothing had hit him yet, even after his second hit. you hadn’t watched him when he took his first, but now that you did, you could pinpoint exactly the cause behind his normalcy.

“jisung you have to— oh my god, you aren’t hitting it right.” you grabbed his hand, pulling it away from his face as he looked on at the cart in confusion and tried to raise it to his mouth again.

“i’m doing it the same way you did. seriously, how could i be doing it wrong.” he pouted, far too dramatically for the situation, eliciting another round of quiet giggles from your lips.

“no you aren’t! you’re just letting the smoke sit in your mouth. listen to me closely jisung: you have to breathe in again after you hit the cart, before you blow it out.”

“you have to— what!? what are you talking about?”

you took both of his hands in yours, turning your expression into one demanding the utmost level of seriousness. 

“take one more hit.”

“what?”

“take another hit. but listen to me as you do it, mmkay?”

“i guess…” he sounded so defeated, it was adorable. 

he raised the cart to his lips again, holding down the button as he hesitantly sucked in a hit. his gaze met your own, seeking direction, as he lowered the cart from his mouth slowly.

“okay. now gasp like i just confessed my undying love for you.”

his reaction did not disappoint, a violent gasp effectively moving the smoke from his mouth to his lungs. this time, when he coughed, it was more of a coughing fit. that was more like it. you knew it was complete bullshit when he insisted he had to be “a natural” since he didn’t cough at all the first time. 

“there you go. attaboy!”

“i still don’t feel anything.”

“that’s because it takes time, silly. you don’t get high off your ass from one proper hit after 3 seconds have passed.” you laughed in his face, taking the cart from where he had left it between his pointer finger and thumb. your stupid, horny weed brain decided to freeze your eyes on jisung’s hand, staring like a creepo as thoughts of “wow.. nice hands. wow…. how have i never noticed” began to flood your brain. it took a muffled “what the fuck” falling from jisung’s lips to break you out of your trance. 

for a moment, your heart stopped, thinking his comment had been about your sudden interest in his hands.

instead, what was waiting for you when you finally raised your eyes, was a jisung with very dilated pupils and big round eyes. you smiled.

“feeling it yet?”

“jeez. i feel like i’m levitating right now.”

this time, your own giggles were mirrored with jisung’s fit of laughter. 

“hold on— i can help.”

without a second thought, you adjusted to swing a leg over his hips, effectively placing yourself— guess where— directly on jisung’s lap. the same jisung that you had been irrevocably in love with since the 7th grade? yeah. that one.

stupid, stupid weed brain. you were never going to smoke again. that was it. you’re taking a vow of celibacy. but, like, weed celibacy. was there a weed equivalent to alcohol anonymous, you wondered. you were about to reach for your phone to google “weed wanonymous near me” until you remembered— oh yeah, you were sitting on your best friend’s lap right now.

as you exited the little room you were occupying in your mind, consciously using your eyes to see again, you were met with a face of wide eyed shock: jisung. his body was completely frozen, hands hovering hesitantly above your waist. but he wasn’t pushing you off. he wasn’t reacting immediately with disgust. 

“is… is this okay?” even if his immediate response didn’t show signs of clear discomfort, you had to make sure. you loved him too much to let impulsive thoughts ruin the friendship you had built up over years of knowing each other.

a desperate nod of his head told you all you needed to know, a bright smile lighting up your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug.

“you’re the best. you’re so warm.” his arms around you filled you with warmth, fighting the chill of the a/c. 

you had no idea how much time passed like that, your rhythm completely obscured by the effect the weed had on you. all you knew is how warm, and comfortable you felt in his embrace.

suddenly, the little demon in your mind woke up again. the weed demon.

well, the horny weed demon. the weed sex demon. the high sex demon. that one. that little demon woke up again. “ask to blow smoke into his mouth” it said. no, it demanded. demands were a bigger deal than “said”s. you had to do it now. that held the same weight as a triple dog dare. and you could never turn down a triple dog dare. 

“hey jisung?”

“mmm?” oh. that boy was high. he was in the barely verbal stage. when the fuzziness became the main player.

“jisung, wake up.” you shook his shoulders once, twice, until you saw the awareness return into his gaze.

“oh my god. this is crazy, i feel like i’m going insane.”

“you’re cute. can i try something?”

he looked at you inquisitively, eyebrow raised. his hands were still on your hips, only having adjusted slightly to a more comfortable position there since pulling away from the hug. you noticed this just now, but you had to get your thought out now. overthinking his hand placement was a game for the future you to play at. 

“have you ever heard of shotgunning smoke?” he looked at you in confusion. of course he doesn’t fucking know what that means, idiot. he barely knew what a cart was before you showed him yours in 10th grade. 

“fuck. okay um. basically. i’m going to take a hit, and then we’re going to basically kiss, and i’m going to blow the smoke into your mouth.”

“so like a fake hover kiss with smoke?”

“yeah, exactly like that. you got it jisung. that. i want to do that.”

“isn’t it kind of pointless? neither of us will actually get a real hit out of it. plus, why not just kiss for real?”

“you’re right. you’re right. yeah actually… that kind of is just a waste of a hit.” you sighed, horny demon put to sleep. until, hold on, there was another line of that sentence. alarms were blaring, your horny demon was screaming, you were staring silently at jisung, and you were also taking too long to continue in a way that was coherent.

“i want to raise children with you.” that’s what you ended up on. this is the fate that the horny demon decided for you. you were busy accepting the sad fact that your nearly 15 year long friendship with jisung was over as of tonight. you could wave bye-bye to your twisted fantasy of wooing him with your astronomical knowledge when you visited that observatory you had bought tickets for a month ago. there goes that plan.

and then you felt hands slide up your body to cradle your face. you felt one of those hands move into your hair to gently coax your head downwards, and you felt soft, slightly chapped lips meet yours in a gentle press. it was a peck, simple and innocent. except your heart was racing. your head was blaring “i’m so in love with this man” “i need to have him in every way imaginable” “i need to be by his side for the rest of my life” and you decided to silence the onslaught of thoughts by eagerly reconnecting your lips to jisung’s.

there was more to it this time, both of you getting the chance to move your lips slightly out of sync (marijuana does not make synchronized movement an easy task). a slide of your hand onto his chest. a gasp as you nipped at jisung’s lip. a smile, interrupting the (admittedly mismatched) flow of your kiss. in no time, both you and jisung were smiling ear to ear, high as hell and drunk off of each other’s lips. 

“hey.” his voice was a little squeaky, like he hadn’t recovered enough air yet to get the word out properly. you laughed.

“hey.” you parroted him, smiling softly.

“i’m kind of in love with you, honestly.” those words, falling down from his perfect lips, floating up into your auditory range, registering in your head. your heartbeat picked up. a flush found its way to your cheeks. jisung just said he was in love with you.

“oh. that’s perfect actually, because i’ve been crafting an in depth bedtime scenario of our entire life story together since we graduated high school.”

“you’ve been what?”

“we’re scheduled to have a wedding at yerkes observatory in exactly 824 days.”

“you would make our wedding venue be an observatory?” he seemed genuinely touched. you fucking knew that would be the right choice. 1 point to the little employee in charge of sleep scenario crafting in your head.

“i’m proposing to you when we go stargazing in 437 days at the same field we go to on our first date. i felt like the space theme should be continued. we also paint the milky way on our first daughter’s nursery walls.”

“you’ve really thought about it that much?”

“you should see my notes app, jisung. i have to cut off my whole ‘falling asleep’ process if i start imagining a situation that’s too good to get lost to my dreams.”

“can i be your boyfriend? please?”

“oh. yes. yeah. of course.”

his responding smile was blinding. he was practically vibrating in place. his hands snapped up to hold your face gently, his lips frantically pressing all over your face, kissing on the tip of your nose, on your forehead, on the corner of your mouth, on your eyelids when your eyes fluttered closed. he pulled back slowly, still grinning as he moved his hands down to your waist again. the look in his eyes shifted slightly. you were too high to process what his change in expression meant.

“you can blow smoke into my mouth if you want to, by the way. i think it sounds hot.”

“... huh?”

mel yaps: did i reread this before posting? nooopeee. did i write this while high? yurp! am i posting this while still high? you know it!! happy new year all, this is my real new year present for you.

#: @f6llsun (sorry for ur 10 thousandth tag of the night... idk why i keep uploading stuff that's my bad)

[a-substantial-trash-pile]

Studio TV Solutions presents Half Life VR but the AI are Self-Aware (2020) [not a real movie]. A movie with a totally improv’d script starring a moltey crew who are sure to give you a rip-roarin’ good time!

anyway hi new au just dropped. i’m calling it HLVRAIM. it’s HLVRAI but it’s a blockbuster movie and the science team are played by actors. i have many thought on backstories n stuff that i will stick under a “read more” here otherwise this post will be hella long on people’s dashes. 👇👍 pls care about this i thought so hard and much

Half Life VR but the AI are Self-Aware was put out by Studio TV Solutions in 2020 and destroyed the box office with how fun it was and how well the cast played off one another. The cast was given a general outline for the script with the goal for it to be mostly improv.

Gordon Freeman: Mannie Flores (Dominican American, age 28, he/him) - Popular Youtuber/Twitch streamer (“Radi0Mann”). Got offered the role in HLVRAI thanks to the creative things he’s done in his Youtube/Twitch career. This is his first “official” acting gig. He was pretty starstruck at first, but then as he got to know everyone, he realized they’re all a bunch of dorks (affectionate). - Started off as a gaming channel, but then started branching off into various creative endeavors as he got more popular. He still plays games too though. - One of the things Mannie did in his internet career that hit the mainstream was when he wrote, directed, starred in, and filmed his own movie in just 2 weeks because he failed a bet with his audience. Except the movie was actually really good and funny and heartfelt (i want to say it was about “a man who got left behind on earth after everyone else was raptured because god literally forgot about him”, but i think the concept might’ve been done already). - Met Benji through HLVRAI. They hit it off and now they’re dating. They tried to keep it secret for a while but Mannie had a slip-up during a stream that sort of blew it out of the water.

Benrey: Benji Song (Japanese/Chinese, age 30, he/they) - Started off as a film sound designer in the industry, then through a series of silly willy little events—possibly even shenanigans—got roped into a role in a passion indie film that became wildly acclaimed and flung him into the spotlight. Been an actor ever since, but isn’t the most proactive in taking jobs much to their agent’s annoyance. People never know where he’ll pop up next. Sometimes Benji will sneak in sound designer work behind their agent’s back. - Honestly likes background work more because everyone’s got these expectations of them as an actor that they feel pressured to meet. But he’s also afraid of disappointing people. He’s working on it. - Met their partner Mannie through HLVRAI. Totally was a fan of his streams/videos beforehand though. When they mention that, Mannie gets flustered. - Does music as a hobby. Electronic stuff mostly—enjoys mashing together all sorts of sounds and trying to make them work. After HLVRAI, Mannie’s streams gets cool new music that’s made by somebody going by “johnwicklover1994.” wink

Harold Coomer: Hau’oli “Hau” Kaleo-Kirchhoff (Hawaiian/Samoan, age 66, he/him) - Old musician who’s supposed to be retired but once in a while will release a song or even do a concert (but nothing crazy). - Hau’oli is pronounced [hh-ow-oh-lee], but he also goes by “Hau” for the haoles’ sake. :) Kaleo is [kah-leh-oh]. also Hau’oli sounds a little bit like the name Holly so that’s a fun coincidence i didn’t realize until later. - Most of his music is chill island tunes but he has been known to dabble in rock and jazz. - Married to Mose (been together for 30 years and counting).

Bubby: Mose Kaleo-Kirchhoff (German, age 69 [nice], xe/him) - Veteran actor—been in the acting industry for a long time. One of his more well-known roles was in a popular sci-fi series. - Married to Hau’oli (they got married the moment it was legal). - i went with a name that started with “M” cuz when Gordon first asks Bubby for his name, xe’s like, “mmm Bubby.” and i headcanon it’s because Mose was about to say xir own name and had to swerve last minute and the thing his brain resorted to was Bubby lol.

Tommy Coolatta: Luis Tanglao (Filipino, age 37, he/they) - Child star who dropped out of the industry when he hit his teens and then came back years later as a comedian. He has material about how fucked up being a child star was. Will only take acting roles if it interests them. - They don’t care about how the public/media sees him. He’ll speak his mind and call out BS when he sees it. Interviewing them can be a war zone. - Hosts a popular podcast with some buds they discuss things like video games, their lives, news, etc. Just shooting the shit. - Sunkist is their actual dog and she modeled for the png photo that was used. Her name is actually Biko. She is a very good girl. <3

Darnold Pepper: Sage Haven (African American, age 40, he/her/they) - Famous cooking show host who gets offered roles in movies. Got popular by how unconventional her meals and cooking methods are and how funny he is. - Has had multiple food/cooking/baking shows over the years. Every competition-based one they’ve had focused more on good vibes, fun, and encouraging one another rather than drama. One show involved people competing to see who could make the best full course meal with the catch being they could only cook everything in a microwave. Many microwaves perished. - Changed their name to Sage Haven during their transition. They chose it because it reflects his passion and also is a play on the phrase “safe haven”, which is what she wants to be to others. - He has an adoptive daughter named Kit. She helped them think up bits and jokes. She also had to help explain what Half-Life was.

haven’t gotten to gman and forzen’s actors yet unfortunately. thinking gman’s actor could be a talk show host? because that would be funny. anyway thanks for humoring me on my shenanigans. bye

[theemporium]

💰 charlos finding out that their sugar baby is sick and pampering her with the best items they can find, constantly sending medicine, etc.

totally not inspired by me having COVID rn

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

You were stupid for thinking the maid would take the puppy dog eyes in full stride and not report back to your boyfriends.

The boys had been away for a double race weekend when you found yourself coming down with something. It hit you far harder than you expected and after a whole week of trying to push through it, you found yourself in bed with snotty tissues and a cough that made your chest feel like it was caving in. 

It was rough. And it sucked to go through alone, but you didn’t want your boys to feel bad. You had managed to avoid long calls or facetime attempts fairly well since it was the last week before they flew back. But what you failed to realise was that the maid who the boys hired to come by and clean the apartment a few days a week would snitch you out to her bosses. 

The messages you received from Charles and Carlos were a mix of concern for your condition and disappointment for you hiding your condition from them. You apologised and told them you couldn’t wait to see them when you were better (which only upset them further when you insisted that they weren’t allowed to see you at risk they would get sick). 

The race on Sunday had been at a fairly decent time, but the flu had knocked you out before a third of the race had even passed. 

You woke up hours later when the sun was no longer in the sky and the snotty tissues on the bed had been replaced with bags and boxes. Multiple bags and boxes that had designer labels on them no matter where you looked. 

Your brows furrowed together in confusion. 

“Ah, mon amour, you’re awake,” a voice sounded to the side of you, and you had little time to react before Charles was placing a kiss on your forehead before cupping your face in his hands. “Hm, your temperature seems to be getting better.”

“Charles?” You mumbled, blinking a few times before everything seemed to click together. “Oh my god—”

You had completely missed the race. Not only that, you had been asleep so long that the boys were able to fly home and apparently turn your bedroom into the next designer outlet.

“You need to leave,” you breathed out before you began to shake your head. “I’m going to get you and Carlos sick—”

Charles frowned as he reached for you. “Baby—”

“—and then you won’t be able to race and…oh my god,” you shuffled away from the boy, looking around the bed in confusion. “What—”

“You must think so little of us if you think we are going to leave you when you’re sick,” a second voice spoke up and your head snapped around to find Carlos standing in the doorway, a tray of food in his hands.

“Carlos—” You started but he quickly interrupted. 

“You’re ours, amor,” Carlos stated simply. “You’re ours to care for and spoil and look after. And that’s exactly what we will do.”

“But your races,” you argued weakly, sniffling a little but you didn’t fight it this time when Charles reached for you and pulled you against his chest.

“We’ll be fine for our races,” Charles reassured you before pressing another quick kiss against your cheek. “Now let us take care of our girl.”

You sighed and both boys grinned triumphantly. 

“The gifts are over the top though,” you told them with a shake of your head. “You need to return them.”

Carlos scoffed. “I think the fever is making you delusional, mi amor. Now eat up, you need the energy to recover.”

“Carlos—” You started but Charles shushed you with another kiss.

“We lost the receipts,” he lied badly before grinning. “And personally I think the little red set would make you feel much better—”

“Maybe when I’m not coughing up a lung,” you snorted. 

“I can be patient,” Charles retorted with a grin.

Carlos snorted. “Sure, amor, sure.”

.

[yuri-is-online]

I'm sure Leo is keeping it for dirt especially if it's someone he knows, Sho doesn't want to cook him the spicy food? Do you want him to ask the NPC if they can pull your hair and see if you are in a better mood? Romeo is teasing him a bit too much? I might not have as many brand deals but at least I wasn't begging last night for the NPC to praise me, He might not know Subaru's secrets but now he knows he cries and sniffles during sex, even if it won't help him with anything other than embarrass him

referencing this

Leo is stupid embarrassed at first just because he doesn't want to picture anyone having sex with Honor Roll, but if he can find a way to slide what he knows into conversation without looking like a perv then he absolutely will.

SHO- It's less that he calls him out and more like Leo wants to tease his friend a bit because he expects this to be something Sho'll hit and quit but like... why is he blushing. There's plenty of older people who will yank his hair while fucking and suck him off if that's what he's into. He cannoT be thinking of dating that basic bitch is he insane? Sho is getting dragged to the club this weekend and Leo is going to be disappointed when Sho is turning people down; he needs to get his boy out of this school it's starting to affect his brain.

Alan- I know my post references him spying on him and Thoma but if Leo followed him thinking that he was meeting up with three eyes only to hear him hooking up with MC... personally I think Alan would want to be a gentle lover and treat MC sort of like glass but Leo refuses to even think the words "making love." Yeah he's getting bullied, Leo wants to see if he'll really lay hands on someone for talking shit about his partner. Best part is when he gets shoved up a wall he can just ask if MC likes it like that.

Subaru- He's subtle with it because Leo wants Subaru to be a bit paranoid about what he knows and feel embarrassed, but I could see this being something that makes Subaru genuinely angry. It's one thing to make fun of him for crying, it's another to shame MC and imply they're dishonorable in some way for indulging him. It's still a win in Leo's book since he gets to see Subaru not being perfect.

And Subaru absolutely cries during sex, he can feel your arousal and love for him when you touch and it overwhelms him to feel so safe. Sure he's been horny before but he didn't think sex could feel so good...

Romeo- Leo seems to respect Ro Ro's taste but this seriously makes him question that. Why would he be with something so cheap? Does he get on his knees for Honor Roll before he takes it up the ass or would that ruin his slacks? Romeo is flustered over his comment sure but deep down, he is also sort of smug that he has someone who praises him as much as the MC does. He's heard what you have to say about Leo so he knows it's real. Also is it just me or with how much he flexes his spending, do you think that would extend to things like lube too? idk I just feel like even that would have to be designer for him (¬_¬")

Taiga- He isn't even sure you were having sex; whatever happened in that room is between you and the C.I.A. at this point because Leo knows for damn sure god hasn't been anywhere near you in a while.

[milksnake-tea]

hello my favorite star rail writer i am back bc i saw you reached 1k followers (CONGRATS BTW I DIDNT SEE EARLIER BC I STARTED CLASSES) and im a sucker for mutual pining its sickening to see two ppl so in love and blade, so blade + fluff prompt 10 would be amazing :D

extra points if mc isnt a fellow stellaron hunter, like in my head reader is sighing dreamily while march 7th is all "thats a wanted criminal"

❀ ˎˊ- prompts: You two have been pining over each other for God knows how long, and your friends are sick of it. ❀ ˎˊ- 1k followers event ❀ ˎˊ- character: blade ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: none! just fluff :D ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: IM SORRY THE LAST PART MADE ME LAUGH SO BAD GOODBYE I LOVE THAT !!! also..... IT GOT KINDA CRACK IM SORRY GOODBYE IT'S LESS PINING MORE DAN HENG BEING DISAPPOINTED IN YOU

It wasn't often that Blade strayed outside the mission.

Just as the sword he wielded, Blade cut through his missions with precise cuts, following Elio's script like law. While Kafka and Silver Wolf would take liberties with their scripts, going off to shop or to fight, Blade stayed at his designated spot, staring blankly at the clock until he was called upon once more. He never did more, never did less.

So to see him gazing off into the distance, a hint of a smile on his face, was definitely out of the ordinary.

"What's on your mind, Bladie?" Kafka asked, her pupil-less eyes peering at her partner from behind her drink. "It's rare to see you so... restless. Has the mara been bothering you?"

Blade shook his head, a disgruntled sigh escaping him. His gaze reached past Kafka, focusing on the silhouette of your person as you chatted away with Dan Heng.

Kafka hummed, tilting her head as she played with her straw, mindlessly stirring her beverage. "Hm... Then is it them?"

Blade's fingers stilled. Kafka smiled, knowing she had hit the spot.

"So it is," she mused, stifling a giggle as Blade shot her an annoyed look.

"They're talking to him," Blade muttered, laying his hand flat against the table. Surprisingly, the mara did not strike, nor did Blade become irritated. His voice was gentle, soft like the breeze.

"Indeed they are," Kafka took a sip, licking her lips at the burn of alcohol. "Do you wish that was you, Bladie?"

Her teasing wasn't lost on the man, but he didn't bother with a reply.

"No," Blade murmured, resting his head in the palm of his hand. The artificial sunlight of the Xianzhou bathed you in a heavenly glow, your carefree laughter a sweet symphony. "I wouldn't dare disturb such beauty."

And yet, it seemed as though fate had glanced his way, just as you had. Your eyes met with his, and you smiled, waving at him. Blade's heart thudded in his chest, and for a moment, life returned to him.

His hand twitched, wanting to return your greetings, but the rough drag of his bandages stopped him. Blade averted his gaze, hiding his slowly flushing skin behind his palm.

Kafka snickered at his predicament, quickly snapping a photo of his flustered state and sending it to the other Stellaron Hunters. Instantaneously, Silver Wolf sent back a vomiting emoji, while Sam excitedly congratulated Blade on his newfound emotions. Elio didn't reply, he never does.

"Aren't you adorable," she cooed, turning her phone off and tucking it away. "You know, I doubt they'll mind if you just walked up to them."

Yes, you certainly wouldn't mind. However, your very disturbed friends would.

"What are you doing?" Dan Heng hissed as you waved to the Hunter, grabbing your wrist and snatching it down. "You know how dangerous that man is."

"But isn't he so cute?" you chuckled, the tips of your ears flushed. "Besides, he hasn't done anything to hurt me yet."

"Yet being the operative word," Dan Heng sighed in exasperation. "I hope you didn't forget how he threw a sword through me."

"I try not to think about it." You stretched back your arms. "Don't get your tail in a twist, Dan Heng. I'm just being friendly."

"That's not what your face says," Dan Heng commented, poking your cheek. "I can still see you mooning over him."

"I am not- mooning over him!" you objected, swatting his finger away. "I was just... thinking."

"Of course you are. Thinking of the man who stabbed me, that is."

"And he looked good doing it- Dan Heng!" you yelped as Dan Heng elbowed you. Your friend only crossed his arms, raising a brow at you as you glared at him. "Alright, alright, fine. I just- I know I shouldn't like him, but..."

"There's a but in this?"

"His arms are really toned, okay? Have you seen his muscles?"

Dan Heng gagged, pretending to throw up over the railing. "Far closer than I'd like to admit- Point being, he's a wanted criminal."

You stared blankly at him. "So?"

Dan Heng stared back. "What do you mean, 'so'?"

"I can fix him."

The only words you could use to describe Dan Heng's face was pure disappointment. Swiftly, he turned on his heel, and promptly walked away from you, quickening his steps as you chased after him.

"Hey! Where're you going so quickly-"

Dan Heng stopped for only a moment, his expression unreadable as he glanced back at you. "I don't talk to people who kiss wanted criminals."

You held up a finger. "To be fair, I haven't kissed him yet-"

"I'm leaving."

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[comicaurora]

Have you seen the new Superman show on adult swim? Himbo Clark Kent rights

It's off to an extremely encouraging start! Thoughts under the cut!

I like how they portray Clark's super-strength and how comfortable he is flying and using super-speed. They really feel like innate characteristics of his body rather than powers he switches on and off - things he keeps toned down when people are watching, but things that are always present regardless. The number of times I've pulled a push door or shoved something that was stuck and thought "if I had super-strength I wouldn't get a Take Two on this because my hand would've gone straight through that" is clearly something the showrunners have also thought about. This Clark lives in a world of cardboard and physically cannot stop himself from putting his hand through it at least once a day.

There's a physicality to the way Clark takes hits that really communicates how little he feels them most of the time. Eyes open, mouth closed, immediately getting back into the fight after getting punched into a crater. This is stuff I also think about when I draw supernaturally tough characters in combat situations, and it's cool to see someone else doing it - especially since one of my very few complaints about the older DCAU is that Superman always took every hit like it was a fully incapacitating blow, which Worf'd him pretty constantly.

I also like that we have so far never seen Clark angry. We've seen him scared, flustered, disappointed - but not angry. Even in fights where he's taking serious hits, he's only motivated by wanting to protect and save people, even his opponents - he so far has never been motivated by a desire to destroy. That feels like very good writing for Superman.

It's currently a little unclear how exactly his powerset is scaling - it looks like the blue-eye-glow-and-suit-emblem thing is a legitimate powerup that lets him hit harder and recover faster than his normal baseline, but how exactly that works isn't clear yet - although that is very obviously going to be a plot point later, since they keep giving him little flashes of the story of Krypton's destruction and what shenanigans they were getting up to when it exploded.

On that note, Kryptonian tech has never looked or felt so otherworldly. I love the distorted electronic backward-voice choir they use exclusively for when Clark is on the ship. I love that hologram Jor-El can't speak English, but can clearly understand Clark - also this is the coolest Jor-El has ever looked. Some comics wax poetic about how Clark is an alien space god who only pretends to be human, but I like how this show is firmly putting Clark on the side of the audience with regards to how unsettling the "alien space god" vibes truly are. He can't understand the nature of the ship or the words of its holographic inhabitant, he's not really interested in what it means or where it came from - he just wants to know who he is, or rather who Superman should be. And I like that he concludes that Superman should be him - the heroics he was already doing, except this time on purpose. Superman should not be this spooky glowing alien god thing, even if that's the vibe we get from Krypton itself.

I like that the ship gave Superman his modern no-underpants-on-the-outside suit and Ma Kent was like "we can do better than that" and added the underpants back on.

I also like how much setup there is for future plot stuff that a DC-familiar audience can see coming. Clark hasn't used any of his vision-based powers yet, and it's possible he doesn't know they exist. No sign of Lex Luthor or Kryptonite yet, two problems we know will become more severe with time. We've already got Amanda Waller being stoically nefarious in the background. Young Hot Deathstroke is a hell of a design choice and I am Here For It.

I also appreciate how many little referential jokes are packed into the dialogue, ranging from the obvious "it's a bird it's a plane" to some hella deep pulls like Jimmy Olson's youtube channel.

And fundamentally I love how this show starts from the jump with the thesis that friendly, humble, Normal Man Clark is the real person, and Superman is the job that Clark Kent does. The title of the show is "My Adventures With Superman." The POV character is Clark. He is the "my" in that title. This is Clark's story about Superman.

I really, really hope Batman eventually shows up, because this Superman would make that hilarious.

[plethomacademia]

I spent most of yesterday logged off and that took a lot of the energy out of my veilguard critical sails. It's fine. You can see all the places where they had to cut content. There are lots of ideas with little cohesion.

It reminds me of da2 in that way a lot, but I didn't care about it with that game. Sure people just appear out of crates to hit you and there's exactly one cave. There's something to be said for smaller scopes. I loved Kirkwall and I loved the people I got to know over years there.

Sure, this game cannot be a single city and the stakes are too high to take years, you're fighting at least one god no matter what due to the set up in inquisition. (Which ugh don't get me started on that after credits stinger and how they might have set themselves up for failure again.) But did we need six factions, especially when three of them feel half finished at best? Did there need to be a version of galactic readiness which forces you to engage with each faction to the point that you can see the gaps? Did there need to be so many boss fights that they didn't have time to design so they just threw in another dragon?

I like the characters but I feel the gaps there too. There's enough here for me to play with, but this need for everyone to be nice ... Ugh I really hope this isn't the future of this company. Remember when characters could disagree? Remember when you could literally hate fuck? Remember when Ashley shot Wrex in the head?

I guess since this is a whole thing, I'll get out the last part: the romances are really disappointing. I don't mean this in a where are the boobies way, who truly cares. Bioware was really onto something with their last two games and romances. Veilguard suffers from everyone having basically the same progression: empty flirts that feel weird -> a lock in that feels very late and gets you a kiss -> good job gamer here's the sex. This is the me1 and me2 model!

Their last two games had really started to play with allowing different characters to have different ways to engage in a relationship. Some people will never consummate, some want to fuck on the first date. The thing I remember the most from Andromeda is that it let me play my Ryder like the absolute messy nepo baby that I wanted, which included fucking her friend on the couch after playing scifi FIFA and then calling it what it was: blowing off steam, having fun. After that, she was able to have a long, slow build up romance with a pink alien who helped her stop and think for three seconds and become a better person.

This is good! To use phrases that I think Bioware might care about, this is representation! I have always been a fuck on the first date, catch feelings later person, so the whole building to sex always felt off to me. Let some people lead with their bodies. Let some people lead with the feelings. Let people be people! If nothing, it felt even more video gamey and empty changing it back to this and I have a feeling this is once again a victim of cuts in development.

Apparently my sails were still full. I do plan to play this game again, but with the difficulty turned down, enemy hp set to lowest, and free rein to skip cutscenes that made me roll my eyes the first time. I really hope this did well enough that they get to have another shot at mass effect, but I am also worried that this is their new standard and I am going to have found family everyone is nice in space whether I want it or not.

[butchbarneygumble]

Imagine how I must feel as one of the only fans of Mighty Magiswords. You know. A headcanons-and-fanfic kind of fan. I even cosplayed Prohyas once.

Of course, it's nothing compared to what the actual victims went through... I'm fine. But it still felt like a part of my identity has been permanently soured. I don't want to seem like I somehow have it worse, that's not my intention. Nothing bad happened to me personally. I'm only posting my own side of how I deal with the situation, to get some closure myself and show solidarity with the victims.

I don't admire him anymore, and that's putting it lightly.

Full story under cut. Content warning for non-graphic discussion of csa.

The news came to me from my ex-but-still-friend. He told me privately, out of nowhere, just dropped it on me. Like, "Hey, sorry to tell you, but the guy you like got arrested for csa". However, I am glad he told me rather than me having to find out on my own.

The news hit me, and I felt nothing in my body. I usually would get this painful fight-or-flight all through my body whenever I read something that upset me, something I've been training myself to get better with. But right now? I just felt like... "huh. That happened." It helped a lot that Magiswords wasn't my fixation of the moment. And like... it's been like I've been slipping away from it. Like I didn't need it anymore.

More and more people were talking about him, and it wasn't positive. Who? Kyle.

I talked to him. Personally, like many people did. He never acted weird to me. I admired him. I loved his art, sent him physical fanart, all that stuff. I knew more than one person said he was not trustworthy but hey, he made a show that saved my life, so it was a constant struggle between feeling like I had to pick sides. I was going through hell by virtue of my dad being terminally sick and needing constant care, so I was gonna ignore the red flags and enjoy my silly sword show that brought me such joy.

Even if as time went on it started get harder and harder.

But you know what a certain depressed horse show said? When you're wearing rose coloured glasses, red flags just look like flags.

I now think dodged a bullet.

What emotions do I feel? Betrayal. Anger. Disgust. Disappointment.

The irony about it all. The sheer painful irony of blacklisting somebody for *drawings*, and then going behind everybody's back to actually hoard *actual* csa, and revenge porn, and all sorts of nasty stuff. For the record: there is nothing wrong with being put off or disgusted by specific sorts of drawings. But the irony here is what's most painful to me. I do not like people using this as a "gotcha" for either side of this tired argument. It's disrespectful to the actual victims.

People say I can easily seperate art from the artist if I want to but... right now I don't think I want to. He's in every pore of its identity. I do not want to talk or think about Magiswords right now, and I don't know if I ever will again.

It meant so much to me. Prohyas felt like Me. Being a goofy capable adult who doesn't stop collecting things he likes just cuz he's an adult. I thought I was trans for a while and the euphoria of relating to Prohyas helped that. Then he got lowkey confirmed nonbinary and I was over the moon.

It was good. Emphasis on "was".

And to the man himself I have one thing to say: you're another one in a long history of cartoon artists who end up being unsavoury, slimy people, taking advantage of young people, especially girls, in the animation industry. Not something to be proud of. I know we talked and you seemed perfectly okay to me, personally. All I can think is thank god it never went beyond casual chats.

I guess I can finally say I never liked the joke about Vambre not liking pants. Sure, sensory issues exist, but I doubt that was the intention of the design. I have deleted my sideblog where I chronicled ooc screencaps of the show and deleted my little spotify playlist of songs that reminded me of the show. I don't want to finish my longfic where Prohyas and Flonk fell in love anymore. I can't even change it into ocs because it's just so ingrained in the show's lore. So yeah, there's that.

I'll be fine. When the news hit I took it surprisingly well. I was going to an Alestorm concert and it was the most fun I had in ages. So yeah, I've got Christopher Bowes and His Plate of Beans to fill the void of comedy music. Was fixating on Simpsons already so there's that in terms of cartoons. I'm fine.

All I can say is my heart goes out to all the victims, and I'm deeply sorry I didn't see you sooner. I hope you can heal and have some semblance of closure now that he's gotten arrested. My heart goes out to all of you and again, I am so so sorry. I wish you all the love and healing.

[dragonzzilla]

Tears of the Kingdom's underwhelming narrative had rich potential

I'll preface this with a confession: I have not played Tears of the Kingdom. As a matter of fact, I haven't played any Legend of Zelda. I simply never had the opportunity while growing up, so my interest in the series has always been satellite. As such, I do not have the perspective of someone who has. My opinions are formulated entirely in what little I have seen or sought out. I'm coming at this with the perspective of an outsider looking in. But I'm not looking for a fight. My aim isn't to bash the new hotness out of jealous spite, or to convince people to feel bad about liking this game that, I've otherwise heard, is really fun. The reason I care, even though I'm not a part of the fandom, is that we all deserved better.

This is a much anticipated sequel to a smash hit from one of the biggest names in the industry, sold at a whopping $70—and having watched for free a YouTube compilation of all the cutscenes pertaining to Ganondorf, the much advertised central antagonist of TOTK, I felt robbed. This was my legitimate reaction:

Disregarding all my other feelings for a moment, I was dumbstruck to see a Nintendo game—released in our year of 2023—use what is essentially the same cutscene four times while explaining the backstory. I recognize TOTK has modular progression, allowing you to reach the Sages in whatever order you please. But once you've seen the first one, the other three will offer you no more valuable information. I'm willing to stretch my suspension of disbelief pretty far, yet even I recognized on first viewing how formulaic the Sage cutscenes are. It wrenched me out of the story.* Hearing different perspectives about the same events can and should be interesting, but the Sages relating these events barely qualify as characters—possessing neither names nor even faces, thanks to their uniform masks of Zonai design...

* I'll acknowledge: Within universe, there is reason enough for the Sages to repeat what is essentially the same story to their respective successors to apprise them of the situation. I can certainly see Link having to sit through the same spiel several times so everyone is on the same page. But it felt really unnecessary as a member of the audience. And unlike their BOTW counterparts, the Four Champions, the Sages don't stick around long enough to endear themselves any further, instead passing their abilities and function onto their successors.

… Which, I feel, represents the Ancient Past Storyline as a whole. Despite the number of bodies involved, no one felt alive. Queen Sonia—this continuity's founding mother of Hyrule, where divine power is explicitly matrilineal—amounts to nothing more than meat for the fridge to motivate the real star of the show, Rauru. Everyone else, including Zelda and the other Sages, are merely bit players in the conflict between him and Ganondorf. But it's a conflict without teeth. Ganondorf displays nothing but a mad, naked lust for power. Opposing him is Rauru, the quintessential Good King and benevolent god figure who would never abuse his power, but would sacrifice it all to seal away the evil invader who killed his beloved martyr-wife. There is no interrogation of the 'gentle' imperialism Rauru represents. His way is textually presented as the only righteous way. The world of this continuity revolves around his legacy and its preservation; anything else is not merely deviant, but indicative of evil. Only someone with the blackest of hearts would oppose this order. The narrative requires Ganondorf to be nothing less than the epitome of evil.

Which is… really disappointing, to say the least. Because I happen to like Ganondorf. His character and his place in the mythos have always been the forefront of my interest in the series; forget Link or Zelda. Naturally, I was drawn in by TOTK's marketing about Ganondorf's return as a human antagonist after a 17 year long hiatus. Given how much of a reinvention BOTW was for the series as a whole, I was disappointed back in 2017 to learn that Ganondorf existed only as a mindless force of primordial evil. "How lame," I thought, "but I guess it's not really Ganondorf." Calamity Ganon was just that: Ganon. And Ganon's always a full-blown monster, divorced from any nuance possessed by his OOT, WW, and TP selves. Then the first teaser for TOTK dropped, placing Ganondorf the man (if a little worse for wear) front and center. Intrigued, I enjoyed the explosion of enthusiastic fan art that followed, as well as the speculation regarding the role he would play. Surely, he would be more than a one-note villain! My expectations rose as Nintendo revealed more about him. His new design didn't immediately scream Dark Lord; and in his first speaking role, he draws attention to the fact that he has returned (within universe and meta-wise) and he has a vision for the world. I couldn't want to see the final product! Yet here we are.

It's a strange thing to fixate upon, when I don't have any skin in this game. But I'm passionate about storytelling. I enjoy rich narratives with nuanced characters, and I respect those that fully commit to the ideas they present... whereas stories that try to have their cake and eat it too, well, those pique my interest as well. Whenever I see untapped potential, my writer's mind cannot help but ponder the age-old question of "What if?" And I intend to do just that, in the cut below (this rant is long enough as it is).

Of course, no amount of brainstorming can change the reality of a product. A ship's structural flaws only become apparent once it's left port, but there's no recalling it then. Nonetheless, there is value in the discussion. We should always critically analyze what corporations give us, desiccating their products to discern the messages (whether intentional or not) contained within—especially when the product is aimed toward a young audience that might not have the cognitive tools to decipher those messages for themselves. Even if we cannot affect change in a monolithic company like Nintendo, we can still draw lessons from their missteps to improve our own writing.

If I have such grievances with TOTK's story, why bother with a rewrite? Because:

Playing within the limits of another's sandbox can help to build creative muscle.

I believe TOTK has all the right ingredients for a compelling story, if this new series wasn't so afraid to challenge its narrative roots the way it has its gameplay.

A few more things to note: I am not a professional writer, nor am I a veteran of the series. I'm working strictly with what TOTK brings to the table. I'll make no efforts to reconcile the continuity errors between BOTW and TOTK (though it deserves mentioning), or even attempt to fit this in a single cohesive timeline with the rest of the franchise. I am not that brave lol. What I propose below is simply how I would use these toys; YMMV. I hope this inspires discussion more so than congratulation or wordless agreement (though my ego will accept compliments all the same, especially since it took no small amount of spoons to organize my thoughts like this). As Ganondorf says:

A Modest Rewrite of TOTK's Ancient Past Storyline

Zelda is still flung to the past, but she awakens not to a picturesque golden age under the magnanimous rule of an infallible demigod. Instead, sadly reminiscent of her own age, the land lays in ruin, in the immediate aftermath of its own calamity. But this isn't the fault of Ganon. The blame lies solely with the Zonai.

The Zonai were understandably viewed as gods. A people who live up in the sky on floating islands, in possession of miraculous technology (including killer robots to protect their interests!), and magical artifacts that in the wrong hands can unleash cataclysmic power? A civilization as powerful as theirs doesn't suddenly end without a very good reason. Yet as far as I know, no explanation is provided as to why Rauru and Mineru are seemingly the last of the Zonai. No mention is made of a rival power that could've taken them down; certainly none of the terrestrial races. Remember, the Zonai were seen as gods. If you were to ask me? A civilization with that great of a power at their disposal, and apparently so much of it that Rauru has four more Stones (not including his own, Sonia's, or Mineru's) to pass out as he sees fit... can only destroy itself.*

* I know the Zonai are depicted in text as a purely enlightened and benevolent race... but as far back in the franchise as OOT (which TOTK draws a lot from), not even Hyrule—the standard by which all civilization in LOZ is judged—was above a civil war, orphaning Link. War Within LOZ clearly isn't waged solely against primal forces of evil that can, must, and should be destroyed. And that's good! A story is made richer when even the Designated Good Guys can fuck things up, when characters are allowed to contain multitudes—good and bad qualities!

Power does not defuse conflict. It only escalates the scope of destruction once it's unleashed. So, for whatever reasons the Zonai gave themselves then clung to, they started fighting each other. Using their flying machines and automatons, battles were fought upon and between their sky islands, the detritus of war raining down on the lands below—the inhabitants of which can do nothing but watch as a war rages in heaven—until finally the full power of the Stones is unleashed in an exchange that guarantees mutual destruction. The sky islands all plummet to the earth, wreaking mass destruction. This is the world Zelda finds herself in—where the land has been cracked wide open, the skies are choked with dust, and no one gets along... so unlike the world she knows.

Zelda still comes into the care of Rauru and Sonia, but Rauru is merely Sonia's consort—he holds no power as king. It's evident from the start that Sonia is steering the direction of Hyrule—a humble territory in this age—in this tumultuous time, although Rauru is backing her. It's thanks to Sonia that Rauru and Mineru survived the fall of their sky island, brought back from the brink of death. It was during this time that Rauru fell in love with her; and to repay her, Rauru revealed that, between himself and Mineru, they have three intact Stones (a small homage to the Triforce since it doesn't matter in this continuity) with which they can secure Hyrule's place in this brave new world. Importantly, this isn't portrayed as any more righteous than a nation acquiring a clear advantage over its rivals. Indeed, Zelda's thrown for a loop to learn that in this era, the other races like the Gorons and the Zora aren't merely independent from Hyrule but have a history of conflict—something she never learned in her history books. And tensions are only rising, as these rival nations find Stones of their own after much scavenging, shifting an already fraught balance of power. The gods are dead, their empire shattered—yet slivers of their strength remain, for those daring enough to claim them. By using one of these Stones, a tribe could secure its borders, reclaim ancestral land... or conquer new territory. This is where Ganondorf enters the picture.

This Ganondorf is still a villain, but there's room for nuance. He's ruthless and prideful, and certainly antagonistic toward Hyrule; but the narrative respects him as much as his fellow monarchs. He cares about the success of his people, because his entire identity is shaped around being their king. Remember that a male is born to the Gerudo only once in a hundred years. Ganondorf is but the latest in a lineage of kings, with the heavy burden of expectation that carries—he has a legacy to uphold or surpass if he can help it. And ever since he was a boy, he envied the easy lives and green lands of Hyrule, so as a man he has made it his personal ambition to conquer it... but at every turn, he has met his match in Sonia, who is every bit as skilled of a commander and a magician. The two of them have clashed so many times that they've become the most intimate of enemies, hard pressed to hate each other because they both know what's at stake. For years, they've been evenly matched... but the downfall of the Zonai changed everything. In spite of the Gerudo's best efforts, they haven't been able to find a single Stone to make up for the fact that the crash of their local sky islands kicked up terrible sandstorms and drove monsters from their usual habitats. The Gerudo are more desperate than ever. Then Ganondorf learns that his oldest enemy is housing two living Zonai underneath her roof, and has a total of four Stones at her disposal. He cannot battle Hyrule as before, lest he risk annihilation��if not by Sonia's hands, then another tribe that is more willing to coup de grâce a decimated competitor, or they might perish to monsters, or the desert might finally claim them, the dunes swallowing up their bones and burying their accomplishments. He could bend the knee—throw himself at Sonia's feet and hope for the best, sacrificing Gerudo independence to share in Hyrule's bounty. But his pride will never allow that.

He grew up in the shadow of detached gods, was raised on tales of how they were the ultimate arbiters of truth and value—almighty in their judgment and unassailable—and he saw for himself that they would only ever come down to earth to indulge their curiosity about the quaint groundfolk or harvest what their sky islands could not provide, most notably Zonaite (of course they named it after themselves...) to fuel their miraculous machines, the secrets of which they refused to share with anyone 'because they weren't ready' and would in fact use those same machines to keep the groundfolk from overreaching. Ganondorf is the first king in generations to glimpse a sky—and a future—uncontrolled by the Zonai. Though he was raised to be a king, the very definition of absolute power and privilege, only now is he truly beholden to no one. Finally, he is free to shape his own destiny. And he's not about to relinquish that freedom on account of his dearest enemy getting in bed with a fallen demigod—no, not a god... the Zonai's civil war proved they are not infallible. Without their technology, without their precious Stones, they're flesh and blood, the same as anyone else. Mortal. And what is a man to a king?

Despite the bad blood between them, and the generations of strife between their peoples, Ganondorf is able to convince Sonia that he is willing to bury the hatchet for the sake of his people, that his desire to enter the protective embrace of her kingdom, given the dangerous new world they find themselves in, is genuine. His true intentions are not so painfully transparent, but still Zelda does not trust him. She can't stop wondering how this man becomes the source of the Gloom in her era, even if the hateful creature she encountered in the depths below Hyrule Castle hardly seemed human at all. But she cannot act on a suspicion of duplicity due to future events. So for Ganondorf's entire stint in Sonia's court, Zelda tries to weasel out the truth—and in so doing, builds a relationship with the future Demon King. Once Ganondorf catches on to the fact that Zelda sees right through him, it becomes a game of 4D chess. Who is this girl, a member of Sonia's court that he has never heard before yet is trusted enough to bear a Stone, and why is she so certain of his true motives? He's smart enough to suss out that it isn't simple bigotry. It's a fine line Zelda must walk, because she has a secret of her own—she hasn't told anyone that she's from the future, out of a rational fear of disrupting the past and changing history (but at the same time, she can't abide doing nothing, and these interests war within her).

Despite Zelda's best efforts, Ganondorf succeeds in his plot. In a single stroke, he eliminates an old enemy, deprives her nation of its leader and a Stone, and finally secures a Stone for the Gerudo. But claiming the Stone doesn't immediately transform him into an Almighty Demon King. The surge of power is great, but not so much that he's willing to engage three other Stone bearers—two of which are Zonai who of course have experience using them—so he wisely retreats, though not before telling Rauru: "No point in crying over this one. She's not the first victim of your arrogance. And we both know she won't be the last." He's made powerful enemies, but it's a battle he can fight on another day, and at least now he's on equal footing with the other factions and can take their Stones until he can finally conquer Hyrule. But Ganondorf severely underestimates the lengths Rauru will go for revenge. In killing Sonia, before Rauru's very eyes no less, he has made another enemy for life (and beyond).

Understand that Rauru survived the destruction of his people and their way of life. That's traumatic enough. But now, the person who saved his life, and gave it new meaning, is dead. Murdered. By someone he had come to trust. Because he put a target around her neck. He should have seen this coming, he should have listened to Zelda, perhaps then he could have stopped this. But it's far too late now. Before, he was content to merely support and serve—a just penance, he believed, for his small part in breaking the world. Now, he has a new purpose: To secure Sonia's legacy by any means necessary. He binds his fate to Hyrule, which will never be safe so long as Ganondorf lives. This isn't a wise and beneficent King of Light opposing a terrible darkness, but a grieving widower—who's also a skyborn demigod that just lost his one earthly tie.

After taking command as regent, Rauru does not invite the other races to a grand alliance; he brings them to heel through force. It's not enough for Rauru to immediately counterattack Ganondorf. He wants to destroy him, and what better way than to turn the whole world against him? Additionally, by consolidating the power of the Stones onto his side, he denies Ganondorf the opportunity to pick them off one by one. Zelda is witnessing history, the birth of Hyrule as she knows it, but there's nothing noble about it. It's simple imperialism, and she has to grapple with the fact that she's a beneficiary of it. If the peoples of Hyrule were united through bloodshed, does this invalidate the friendships she's made among those peoples in her present? She's confronted with deep questions which possess no easy answers.

Meanwhile, Ganondorf hasn't been sitting on his laurels. He sees Rauru is stacking the deck against him, such that even the Stone's power won't be enough to win the coming war. The Gerudo are outnumbered and outgunned. So Ganondorf turns to darker magics, begins to press monsters into service, etc. His search for ever greater power takes him into the Depths, where he finds a dangerous substance called Gloom. According to legend, it is the ichor of a demon god who was struck down long ago and sealed away in the bowels of the earth. It drains the life-force of whoever touches it, that much is certain... but Ganondorf reckons it is possible to access this stolen vitality to perform feats of magic hitherto thought impossible. Through his mastery of dark magic, amplified by the Stone, he is able to harness the Gloom. First he tests it upon monsters... then dissidents, those reluctant to oppose Rauru's growing army. He makes examples of them, siphoning away their life-force to show those who will not fight will still serve their king. But this barbarous act only creates more dissent among the Gerudo. Tradition appointed Ganondorf as king, but that doesn't mean they have to stomach his tyranny. Even if he manages to win this war, this new power could allow him to reign forever, and he just demonstrated how little their individual lives mean to him. Worried for the future of their people, Ganondorf's second-in-command, Nabooru, sells him out in exchange for clemency, enabling Rauru and his Sages to capture him. Instead of slaying him on the spot, Rauru declares his intention to haul him back to Hyrule for a public execution in Sonia's name. Nabooru insists on coming along; if the King of the Gerudo is to die on foreign soil, then one of his own should observe his passing.

Ganondorf doesn't respond well to this betrayal. After everything he sacrificed, they would still rather roll over and show their bellies—surrender their freedom and pride—to a foreign lord. Who are these people, to abandon the courage of their ancestors? These are not his Gerudo. Ganondorf disowns them, swearing vengeance upon these cowards even as he is taken away in chains. The journey back to Hyrule gives him time to brood on his destiny. He was born to be a king, yet the place of his birth has forsaken him while the rest of the world wants him dead. Most people would crumble, succumb to despair. But his pride will never allow that. He will keep fighting, like he always has. He will crush any opposition, even if it's the people who gave him birth. He will rule, even if he must reign as king of the undesired. There's a saying: 'The brighter the light, the deeper the shadow.' And Rauru has blazed oh so fiercely. To oppose him, Ganondorf must become nothing less than the King of Shadow.

At the moment of his execution, he draws upon the Gloom to transcend his mortal limits, finally becoming the Demon King. In this form, he's able to battle all seven of the Sages, but he's still not almighty. In theory, Rauru is able to slay him... but he chooses not to. Imprisoning Ganondorf isn't done as a last resort; Rauru wants him to suffer. "Killing you would be far too kind. I will make you wish you could die. You won't. I will hold you here. We will build our kingdom over the lands you tried to burn and pillage. And you will rot here, trapped in this moment, long after you have faded from its memory." And he sincerely believes that he'll be able to contain Ganondorf for all time—because he was able to ascertain that Zelda is from the future, after examining her Stone (his Stone, as it turns out) and piecing together her strange accent and unusual notions, even though she has the pointed ears of a Hylian. He doesn't understand the power, but he does take it as proof positive that his victory is guaranteed and Hyrule exists well into the future... without ever learning the whole truth of it. Rauru is directly responsible for the cycle of Calamity Ganon, as Ganondorf's resent and hatred transformed the Gloom into Malice.

Rauru's pride is an actual flaw, one that is fully explored in the modern day. Just like Ganondorf says, thousands of years passed in the blink of an eye; Rauru hasn't had any time to process his rage. He only saves Link to make him a vehicle for his revenge; sticking around past the tutorial as Link's spectral companion, constantly pushing him to ignore all distractions to destroy Ganondorf ASAP, yet unable to control him directly. In staying with Link, Rauru learns of his legacy; that he created a lasting kingdom, but harmed future generations by inadvertently creating Calamity Ganon—Ganondorf's disembodied anguish and hate, nursed over thousands of years. His selfish decisions created more harm than Ganondorf could have in a single lifetime. Just as the Zonai destroyed the world once before, Rauru managed to destroy it again and again. Hyrule no longer even exists as a kingdom, destroyed by Calamity Ganon 100 years prior. Yet Link continues to fight—not for himself, but to protect and help those he cares about as well as perfect strangers. Rauru gives a touch of the divine to Link, and in return Link reintroduces Rauru to humanity.

In contrast: Ganondorf broods in the Depths, alone. Although he still has a corporeal form, he's just as much of a ghost as Rauru is. He's more isolated than ever, having awakened to a strange world where nothing is as he remembers it. The geography is different, the flora and fauna is different, the people are different. Especially the Gerudo. They don't remember him as ever having been a person at all, believing the monster of their legends merely adopted the form of a Gerudo. But that doesn't sting as much as how tame they've become in his absence. These Gerudo have no fangs; they're fully in bed with Hyrule in every sense of the word, and it disgusts him. Nothing in this world is right. Everyone has forgotten their pride and their history; no one remembers a time when Hyrule wasn't be-all and end-all. Unable to accept this future, he terraforms Hyrule in the image of what it used to be, so it might become a crucible once more. The strong will adapt and survive, while the weak rightfully perish. He will create a world that rewards might and daring above all else.

Ganondorf is none too pleased to learn Link is running around with the arm of the man who sealed him for millennia, and assumes that he has become Rauru's puppet (even more hand symbolism)... but that's a key difference between Ganondorf and Rauru. Link essentially drags Rauru through character development, rekindling a sense of humanity within him. Ganondorf has no one to break him out of his rut. His only company down in the Depths are monsters and the Yiga Clan, who revere him as the source of Calamity Ganon—for his power and opposition of Hyrulian supremacy—but do not see him as person, a king in need of counsel. Ganondorf is more alone than ever, but he refuses to address this. To despair is to admit that the world has power over you, and he is the single strongest being in the world. Gods do not weep. And in that final confrontation, Rauru addresses Ganondorf: They're both ghosts of the past, stubbornly trying to shape the future to their liking; but the present belongs to the living. They both need to let go. But Ganondorf's pride will never allow that. To admit defeat is to admit someone has power over him, and he cannot allow it. It becomes clear to him that the only option left to him is to not play at all.

He swallows his Stone and becomes a dragon, but this doesn't lead to another boss fight (to compensate, the third phase would be a more classical Ganon fight; a friend suggested the name of "Scourge of Hyrule—Apocalypse Ganon"). Instead, in line with what was established earlier—that to become a dragon is to lose yourself to the process—Ganondorf ascends to the sky... and bears no more malice toward Link or Hyrule. He becomes the ultimate in power—immortal and at last truly divine—at the cost of his ego. He's still dangerous since he radiates Gloom, but he doesn't attack, just like the other dragons: an idiot god. He returns to the Depths out of instinctual comfort, but will occasionally surface and usher in a Blood Moon. And like the other dragons, you can harvest rare materials from him to make the best Gloom weapons or whatever. + Leaving Ganondorf in this state leaves a door open for fanatics to try and restore him in a sequel.

So, that's all I got

There's a lot of things I didn't address. Like whether the line of succession was broken with Sonia's death (so is Zelda descended from a relative of hers?), what sort of characters the Sages should be, or what Zelda does after Ganondorf is sealed away by Rauru (I'm personally not comfortable with her waltzing up to the Sages and in a stable time loop binding all the races to Hyrule), how weird the Draconification plot point is (and how Zelda is restored to her human form by Good Ending ghost magic), how Zelda is restored in this version (sequel hook same with Ganon?), how disconnected I feel Link is to the Ancient Past storyline as a whole, whether my version of Ganondorf actually ever learned about him, I didn't really dive into the aforementioned imperialist message in TOTK (others have already done so better than I), etc. Thing is, I'm not a professional writer. I do it for the love of it, and that's what this is. A messy labor of misplaced love for a franchise I've never played, all because I was upset they didn't treat my blorbo the way I like. You know how it goes. My brain didn't know when to let go, but at least now it's out there and not rattling around solely in my noggin, making an awful racket. Maybe now I can work on other things. If you've made it this far, cheers.

[wide-nose-and-wonderful]

SNOWFALL SEASON 3 Franklin.

Pairing: Franklin Saint x Black Fem Reader!

Warnings/Type: Major Snowfall TV Show Spoilers. Established Relationship. Drama, Hurt, Angst, Use of the n-word. ONE SHOT!

Summary: Being Leon's baby sister, you were almost like a forbidden fruit, but Franklin kissed you that night at the amusement park. Since then you couldn't get him outta your mind. The day of Andres funeral you decide to approach him and let him know these growing feelings, unaware the world is about to come crashing down in the worst way.

Word count: 8,220k / Please consider leaving a comment to show some love and support. Like this story? To read other works please check out the Masterlist.

It had gotten humid inside the ragged old church. The whole morning felt entirely too hot. But the situation had been a form of hell. The irony was an abysmal reality you could do without. You wondered how bad it might feel come afternoon when everything moved over to Cissy’s house for the repass. 

Older women from the neighborhood sat off to the side, lukewarm bottles of water in hand. One program folded, causing a line to stretch across the deadeased face, flapping at a steady pace to offer these warm necks a brush of air and a small release from the heat. 

Once the casket closed, things had become real. No going back, no second chances. You had watched eagerly, with both terror and awe at the sight of death with little understanding of its significance. She’d found her father, head on the kitchen table with a bullet through his brain. The top being lowered in the manner it appeared. A firm but gentle slam, screaming, the end. 

You glimpsed at the program in your hand then up ahead. Melody held tight to a blank stare as the pastor spoke. It worried you whenever your eyes managed to find her among the large crowd of people sitting in pews. She looked, lost. Checked out. Maybe from the situation. Maybe from something else? If the rumors going around the neighborhood were true she had been recovering from an addiction to rock. Or had recently taken a hit to numb her mind. Given the situation, you could forgive her for the latter. Still, you couldn't deny this ominous gut instinct that something bad might happen today. 

You pulled at the side of your dress. The color design, a black and white triangle pattern. Hair up in a high bun, you wore a pearl necklace with matching earrings, black stockings and flats. A light application of makeup had been applied. Another thing that bothered you about funerals. Mascara rolling down in black gunky lines. All the sad songs would have caused the welling up of tears so by the time everything ended the look would be giving something out of one of the horror films you’d watched with your girlfriends every other friday. 

The singer's voice lifted. 

‘Amazing grace! how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch; like me! I once was lost, but now I'm found. Was blind, but now I see.’ 

You swore, every black person that died had this very song playing at their funeral in some capacity. Didn’t matter if it was first walking in, or walking out, it never failed.

Andre Wright was no different. His sister Bernice even commented on how as a child the song had been his favorite to sing at Sunday service when they attended with their grandparents. Then she trailed off, expressing disappointment in Andre’s low attendance since joining the police force, and that God might be punishing him for the lack of acknowledgement. Luckily Cissy came to counter the conversation, presenting you and Leon a swift escape. You took it, Leon too. What came next would make it awkward for everyone involved. 

But suicide was always an awkward topic.

You bumped Leon’s shoulder. He averted his eyes away from the program in his hand to look at you. 

“This is sad huh?” You said as your gaze moved over the crowd. 

“Yeah. Real sad,” He mumbled. “Fuckin’ hate funerals.”

You kept your eyes on him for a moment. “It’s not reminding you of dad is it? From what you can remember, I mean.” 

Leon shook his head. “Naw. Not dad.” He paused. “Kev.”

You noticed he stared straight ahead when Kevin’s name slipped out. Jaw tight with unspoken tension. What was he looking at? You tilted your head. The casket in his line of vision. When Leon saw you’d caught on, a sad smile found him. 

“Kev’s wasn’t that exact color, but the flower arrangements kinda remind me of how they put his shit together.”  

‘Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, And grace my fears relieved; How precious did that grace appear. The hour I first believed!’

You discovered Franklin sitting beside his mother and father in a blue button up and tie. His hands in his lap.Thumbs running over each other. His head hung while the music played, all the way up until the point the song finished. You remembered that day. Kevin’s funeral. One of the hardest for Leon. For everyone. Franklin hadn’t been in attendance. You asked Leon why. All he said was that he wasn’t gonna be able to make it. Kevin’s older brother Kane also missed the funeral, but everyone knew where Kane was. He’d been locked up for as long as you could remember. You didn't expect Jerome or Louie to be there. Not after what happened.  

Forgetting you’d been staring, Franklin turned his head to lock eyes with you for a second before he lowered his head once more. Your glare hardened on him. He’d barely been able to look at you. You were tired of his blatant avoidance. The way it started to make you feel took a toll on your control. Keeping those tears in during the ceremony. You hardly heard the preacher for the majority. Something in you somehow began to die. Such a permanent end hadn’t just been reserved for Andre. You lowered your hand and took hold of Leon’s, applying pressure. He offered a gentle smile as the tears rolled down your cheeks. “I know sis,” he whispered against the pastor's words, providing a light squeeze to counter. 

You felt out of place sitting so close to the Wright family, but Leon couldn't oppose Bernice on the seating request. He'd called her Mom once, and ate at her table many times before she’d packed up and relocated to Odessa Texas. 

The funeral continued. You fidgeted with a program while the Pastor called for the congregation to bow heads.

Our father who art in heaven…

Outside Leon was busy giving hugs and conversing with those who chose to stop him on the way to the car. You cared little for conversation. Instead your concentration was fixed. The very last step to the afterlife, or the process that the body would go through. Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust…..The casket dissolved into the black hearse. The door closed, securing it inside for the lengthy trip to the ultimate resting place for the dearly departed. The grave location. A marker arranged later with Andre’s full name on it and a quote from the bible underneath, probably.

You shuffled out the church doors. A familiar voice touched your ears the second your foot felt the sidewalk, and you spun your head to the way behind. Alton. Franklin’s father stood, looking at you. 

“You and Leon gonna head over to the house? Cissy could use more help. Seems like we're gonna have a little more company then expected.”

You offered a smile. “Yeah, of course. Whatever we can do to help. We’ll probably leave in a second once he's finished.”

Alton offered an identical smile, but his brown face only reflected dismay. “Thank you both. See you then.”  

You revolted his departure with a look of disbelief and Leon caught sight of the hearse finally taking its leave as you uttered something about being hungry. Leon’s eyes left the dark ghost that took away the soulless thing in the brown box. As it disappeared in the traffic, all Leon could say was "Damn," before licking the dryness from his lips while he pulled out a joint and lit the end up with a low spark of fire. 

…

The atmosphere in the little house on 56th remained a somber affair. Cissy and Alton had done their best with the little space they had, but it felt cramped by the time You and Leon arrived. One of the hottest days in the city's history according to the radio reports. As predicted, the heat had gotten worse, so intense that it made it hard to breathe. Every hour the power would cut out. Anything Cissy had baking in the oven took extra time. Everyone felt it, this imminent trepidation that attached to the burning. Especially Franklin.You played the part of greeter as per Cissy’s request and directed some of the guests inside, keeping an eye on him. He still had on his suit jacket. Just the sight made you feel extremely suffocated. You watched him pass Melody and Bernice. Melody’s eyes strangely tore him to pieces. 

The rest of the mourners sat around, some sharing memories of Andre. Others offered their presence and support where needed. These people. Some you recognized and other’s you didn’t. They’d come one after the other with a comforting arm and words of sympathy for Melody. 

The dead stare hadn’t left her since coming from the funeral service at the church.“I'm so sorry for your loss. Your dad was a great man. He protected this community, put his life on the line everyday and he will be missed,” one officer from Andres' unit told her as he took off his hat as a sign of showing his respect. Something like, Nixon, Nix? Melody mellowed out a quiet thank you and Bernice rubbed her back as a tear would fall. 

You’d taken the opportunity and handed her a box of tissues when some of the people cleared a pathway. Sat down next to her, to offer your own personal condolences for her loss. “We're here for you, Mel. Whatever you need, just ask,” you said, giving her a reassuring smile. And the sorry’s continued on for a while right after yours. “I know this is a difficult time,” and "You are in our prayers,” were some of the many that followed. 

Eventually you found yourself in the bathroom staring in the mirror. You’d used some toilet paper to dab your forehead and relieve yourself of the perspiration that gathered. After you applied a fresh line of deodorant you hit the light switch and stepped out into the hallway. Franklin turned the corner just in time. The both of you stood, not saying anything until a shaky grin danced on him. 

“Hey Beanz.” 

It came, short and sweet. You watched his eyes move past you and toward his room. Another manner of escape. You blocked the path. Franklin walked forward, attempting to get past. 

“Excuse me,” he mumbled. 

You took hold of his arm. “Wait. Can I talk to you real quick?” 

He hadn’t provided you with much opportunity. You couldn’t call Cissy’s without raising suspicion. That, and it would get back to Leon. You only paged him a few times after the night at the amusement park. That same day you’d ended things with the guy Leon warned you about. The same guy you’d swore up and down wouldn’t do you dirty, but ended up proving Leon right. Like always. That same day Franklin showed up. 

What were the odds that he’d be out driving that night to find you walking down the street in tears. What were the odds that cotton candy and laughter would leave you full and satisfied? More than the two year relationship had ever done in its duration. Small moments, a subtle glance, the holding of his hand. The playful pushing. You were like children. Experiencing his whimsical desire to make you laugh at his failed attempt at game play, but then Franklin always was more brain than brawn. Still, you appreciated all of it in more ways you could express.

You believed he was different. Leon trusted him. Leon knew him. You grew up with him. Had a first hand account of his personality, and while growing up you never saw him being anything more than family, that night introduced a different side to him that might be possible.

It did its best to consume you. These thoughts of Franklin and what if. In the days that followed you’d created in your mind different scenarios.You thought you might be crazy at first, imagining yourself holding hands with him. Then it went to the subtle jokes held between you two, all the way to him parking in a secluded area, you climbing on top of him, and the two of you making love until the sun kissed the earth and brought about a new morning. 

The only way you would ever know is if you took a chance and put all your cards on the table. Franklin opened his mouth. For a second he seemed to search for the right words.You let him go when they never came.

“It won't take that long,” you offered as a level of reassurance. You understood that today of all days wasn’t the best time to confess your feelings, but you might not get another opportunity, being Franklin was so hard a man to track down these days. 

He nodded his head and turned to face you. “Okay,” felt from his lips as an utterance. 

You stared up at him. “In private. If that's alright.” 

He held his gaze then turned and started toward his room. You followed and shut the door once you were both inside. With a sigh Franklin turned. You greeted him with a push against the wall as you raised your hand around his neck to link your lips. Deep down somewhere in your heart of hearts you prepared for the worst. That made you bold in taking for yourself what you wanted. Just one more kiss. If that was the only thing you'd walk away with. It was something. Fuck that bastard Darnell for calling you a prude. This was Franklin Saint, no other girl you knew could be so bold. 

You wallowed in the memory of that night momentarily. It would never be like the first time, so unexpected and new, but the sensation of his full lips, soft, safe, and perfect made you glad you hadn't hesitated. He complied at first only to break contact seconds later. 

“Beanz. The hell you doin’?” 

You'd asked yourself this question only briefly. You took a breath. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean. This. We can't do this.” He moved your hand. He moved away from the wall and under your arm. 

Your eyes followed him.“But we're alone. So It's fine. I just. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

Franklin stood by his drawer. “If I was okay,” he asked without making eye contact. 

“Yes,” you said to clarify. “You're walking around like everything is fine. But it’s not. I mean it’s hot as hell today but you seem to be feeling it more than the rest of us in some weird way. You’ve been sweating like a blues singer,” you emphasized accounting for the moisture on his brow. He probably would have laughed at the comparison under different circumstances. “Everyone is being taken care of. I just. I wondered if the same could be said about you. Who’s checked on you lately? Made sure Franklin was good.” 

It was your way of paying it forward. You owed him. He made you feel good. You only wanted to do the same. You reached out to touch his hand. Franklin seemed to consider how the pad of your thumb ran over the top of his skin. You were desperate for any sort of contact, and by the way he responded, he was too.

“I know in a way Andre was like a father to you. To be honest I'm still shocked that he would do that. Kill himself. So, I know. I know you're hurting right now. And I just wanted you to understand. You don't have to be alone. I'm here. I'm here Franklin.” 

Franklin turned his head away and pulled in his bottom lip. There had been a glaze hanging over his hues. Perhaps your sentiment held too much weight. Franklin appeared to be battling with it. He moved his hand from under your touch. Just like a bee sting, you felt the pain. The aftershock at the loss of warmth to a frigid breeze.

“But the other thing is,” you struggled to say. “You've been avoiding me. I just wanted to ask. What. What did I do Franklin? Why are you being like this? So distant.” 

“Listen Beanz.” Franklin's hand found the upper part of his tie. He pulled at the knot to loosen it some, lowered his head and directed his attention at the ceiling before he gave you a brief glare. “Bottom line. I fucked up.”

You hadn't averted your gaze on him, and as diligently as you tried to deconstruct his sentence, to understand, you couldn't. “What do you mean?” 

“What happened that night.” He'd begun to pace the floor. “Shouldn’t have done what I did.” Franklin nodded. “That's my fault. And I take full responsibility. All the blame.” He stopped his pace to look at you. “Okay?” 

Your heart had moved, from its proper location in your chest to your stomach. “You're talking about the kiss, right? On the ferris wheel. What do you mean your fault? You had my full consent Franklin. I mean in the moment it caught me off guard, sure, but I kissed you back, so in that case I'd be wrong too.”

“No. I put you in that position, that was me. I made the move first. So see, you comin' in here like this. I should expect it. Cause of what you think it is now, or what it could be. But you're wrong.”

How was he able to read your mind so easily? It scared you. 

“We're doin’ this shit behind Lee's back. You know that's not right. He ma’ best friend, your brother. It's all fucked up.” 

“It was only a kiss. We didn’t do anything,” you whispered. You hadn't realized how elevated your breathing had become as you tried to process what was happening. Once Franklin dropped his arm at his side you were battling back tears. You thought you were doing the right thing. That being honest with yourself and him would make telling Leon, your mom, Cissy, Alton, Jerome, Louie, and anyone else who needed telling, much easier.

The hardest part had been telling Franklin.

“That's why I wanted to talk to you. I don't wanna hide my feelings anymore. Let's just tell him.” You'd grown a little confidence. Not only that. You spoke as if a love affair existed between you long before that night. “I felt something Franklin. I know you did too. Maybe it will all work out.” 

The naivety of your hope was showing. There was Franklin, this strategic young business man that created for himself his own product operation. Generated an endless stream of funds while successfully keeping peace between rival hoods. Then there was you, eighteen, inexperienced and vulnerable. It all read like a predator and prey situation so you could understand Leon's warning to Franklin, about boundaries and the lines he wasn't allowed to cross when it came to you. But you could reason with Leon. He couldn't always be right, especially about a man he put his trust into. 

“Tell him what?” Franklin turned to face you. His features mingled with anger and frustration. “You're not hearing me B. There's nothin’ ta tell. There is no us.” 

The intensity of his gaze was enough to make your heart stop. Your expression became void of promise that a fantasy could be something more. Still you preferred to fight it, determined that what you wanted meant more than all the logic the world could muster. 

“You feel the same way, I know you do.You just won’t admit it to yourself Franklin.That would make it all too real. Then you’d have to face it. You wouldn't be able to run away. The way you are now.”

Franklin didn't appear to be moved by the break and rise of your voice, but the added bounce in his jaw encouraged you to say more. If he hadn't responded that meant he must be thinking. You took a few steps until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. You slowly sat on the surface and found a poster on the wall to stare at. A grimace of expression and you offered his rejection a casual laugh. “Who are you tryna convince Franklin? Me or yourself?” You acquired your own level of frustration.You stood at the edge of a knife. All Franklin had to do was plunge it in. He had the upper hand, but you weren't ready to die. If he could only hear you out, at least consider your argument. Faintly you could hear the song from earlier knocking at your senses and calling you to your final resting place. That place where Andre would be buried deep in the earth with his name engraved on cold stone. Only yours would be one word. Foolish. 

“Lee was right. He never looked your way when he uttered those words. You could see him from the corner of your eye. Instead his attention remained on the window. “We gotta leave it alone. Go back to the way things were.” 

Why had that sounded like he meant more than the night at the amusement park?

“Leon’s just tryna protect you B. So am I. Trust me. The further away you stay from all this. The better off you'll be.”

Franklin's hues swirled with burden. You couldn't turn away from all their trouble, even though his words were blunt and direct. It all went on like a paradox. The passivity shifted, as did his expression, to reveal this troubled man. A man that might be trying to make things right. You wanted to see it that way only, in the moment it felt more like he'd destroyed you purposely, doing so without care or worry, as the aftermath of his personal choices, and your vulnerabilities existed in rubble and ruin together as a constant beat. Yet, not even that could reason you to bring yourself to regret. You blinked. That released the drips of emotion from your eyes. They rolled down the same way they had at the church. Only Leon wasn't there to hold your hand. You shifted your weight on the bed until you broke the air with a whisper. Battle strong, you proceeded. 

“But what if I can’t. Go back to the way things were.” 

Franklin shut his eyes. “It didn't mean anything Beanz. What more do I gotta say to get that through to you. It was a mistake.”

When he didn't provide you with an answer you wanted you swallowed down the rising lump in your throat that would have had you burst into tears, if you didn't fight it back down. You had mulled it over in your head and once you recognized the heat in the room your hands began to shake. “Franklin, if this wasn’t something more then why was it you of all the people it could have been, there at that exact time and place. Are you telling me that was just some coincidence?” You weren't sure you should say the next part. You had no way of knowing his reaction. He'd  stone walled every bit of attempted connection you sent his way. You sucked in a breath as, “I’m in love with you,” slipped out.

“We can’t move beyond anything else but friendship. Sorry.” 

You pulled your bottom lip in to stop it from quivering. A similar action Franklin had taken at the mention of Andre. A short whimper-like sound left you in a “Hmm.” Cold. His tone of voice was so cold. Like a businessman delivering his final offer.

“Listen. Messin wit’ you. It'll only cause problems between me and Lee. And I can't have that.” When he turned and finally faced you, it was your tears that made his eyes go hard. He lifted his chin, “None of this is good for bidness. So It's done.” 

A smack of your teeth, and you remembered the shutting of Andres casket. That final slam. The end. You could go a whole lifetime without ever hearing that word. Franklin threw it around like it meant life or death. You rushed out, shutting the door behind you to lean on its frame as that familiar rise of sentiment tickled your eyes leaving you to finally break your reserve and cry. 

Cissy noticed you. She'd been talking in the hall to one of the men you recognized at the funeral. Another associate of Andres but not quite an Officer. She bid him away with a warm grin and approached you. 

“Honey what's wrong?” 

You tried to laugh the truth away. The truth that Franklin Saint had successfully broken your heart. “Nothing really.” You nulled the real reasons and smiled at her as best you could with the facility. Forgetting that Cissy was by no means a stupid woman and that you'd broken out in tears right after coming from inside her son's room.“It's all just so. Heavy in here with all this. You know. Kinda overwhelmed. And to add insult to injury. I'm still hungry.” You cried out in what turned into a sob. You hoped you swayed her from asking any questions about Franklin. Acting in itself was an overrated profession. It took too much of your energy to perform. 

“Aw. Come here sweetheart.” Cissy pulled you into a hug, which only made the crying worse. “I know it's hard,” she whispered while she gently rocked and patted your back to offer some form of comfort. The same you might be more inclined to receive from Franklin.“Death. Any manner of it. Even though it's a natural part of life. Don't make it any less hard.” Cissy spoke like she knew, but delivered in a way that understood both sides. She broke the hug to look at you. “While I have no control over that. I think I can do something about the other thing you mentioned. We just put out the food. Despite all these God forsaken power outages, it's ready.” Cissy smiled. A smile so infectious that it made you do the same. You laughed, she laughed and you both made your way to the kitchen. 

…

Soft music played in the background. The smell of comfort food filled the air. Macaroni and cheese, baked beans, fried chicken, pasta salad. A line had begun to form when the power cut off for the third time that afternoon. Berniece huffed in frustration as she grabbed a plate and began to fill it with food. They really should be doing something about this. They know how God awful hot it is today. Her voice trailed off in the surrounding chatter. You’d almost forgotten about the heat. The aroma of the food had you desperately wanting to sit, but you’d decided to make a plate for Leon. 

With the influx of hungry people, he’d be in line forever. 

When the line moved, you moved with it, grabbing two bread rolls along the way. You eye’d the dessert table hoping that by the time you finished there would still be a variety of sweets to choose from. 

What was it about death that made a person so hungry? 

When you managed to spot Leon, the two of you found seats at the large table. He’d grinned with his first bite of chicken that still offered a faint swivel of steam into the air overhead, hot. You’d been busy with finishing off your portion of macaroni and cheese by the time he took notice of your plate. 

“Mm. Was you gonna leave some for er’body else?” 

You frowned, choosing not to engage him with eye contact as you ate a spoonful of beans. “What?”

“Damn near got the whole pot don't ya?” He chuckled. “Guess you livin’ up to yo’ nickname, huh?” 

The significant difference from your plates had undoubtedly been the beans. You loved baked beans. It was your first words. Not mama, or dada, just, baked beans. Ever since then the nickname seemed to stick. You would always be on the hunt for them at family gatherings or barbeques. Funerals too.  

“Shut up,” you blurted out, almost annoyed that he noticed. 

Leon wasn’t easily rattled. Instead of finding the rebuttal of his observation offensive, he’d countered with another bite of chicken. “I’m just statin’ the obvious.”

Your eye’s were sore and there was some tension, warning you that a migraine was on the horizon. You stopped moving the spoon and shook your head. “You always bring it up. Every single time we eatin’. Like get outta my plate. Worry bout’ what you got goin’ on over there. I mean I'm actually concerned. You starin’ at that chicken hard, like you wanna commercial for it. ” 

“Man. Shut yo’ ass up.” Leon laughed and ate some of his pasta salad.

You rolled your eyes to resume the swirling of your beans before you took in a big mouth full with Franklin passing your view. He saw you too, your plate, and a faint bereaved grin crept his lips before he switched his direction to make his way over. 

“Oh hell,” you mumbled, mouth full trying to chew the rest down. 

Leon greeted him. 

“Sup Saint.” 

“Sup Lee.” 

“You get you somethin’ ta’ eat? It’s pretty good.”

“Naw. Not yet. I will tho. Soon. I’mma let them go first.” 

Suddenly you had lost your appetite. You threw down your spoon, cleared your throat and got up from the table. A couple people sitting down further looked at you as Leon’s eyes met your stance. 

“Where you goin B?” 

You tossed a glance over your shoulder. “See what they got on the desert table. I want something sweet.” 

Leon reached out an eager index finger and shook it at you as you pushed your chair in and began to make your way through a crowd of people. 

“Aye, see if they got some pecan pie!” 

…

Your stomach tangled in undoable knots. There was still plenty left on your plate but you wouldn’t try to finish it, so you made it back to the kitchen and grabbed some foil to save it for later. Later. Maybe you could eat later with much less tension. You grabbed the soap bottle and poured a few drops of the liquid on your hands rubbing both together. 

Going back to the desert table proved to be a grave mistake. You’d gotten caught up in an argument between Miss Patty and Miss Sandra Lane and forgot all about Leon’s pecan pie before you’d made a daring departure. They’d been casually debating on the best way to make peach cobbler. When you came they’d made you try both. When you couldn't decide, they’d begin throwing out different ingredients. Oh well honey, I put cinnamon and a little bit of honey. The counter argument, Well my mama used to say it’s not what ingredients go in, but how much. 

Your elbow knocked a cup that fell to the floor when you went to dry your hands. “Damnit,” you mumbled, bending down to reach it. Another hand came to retrieve it before yours could. You raised your head to see South Central’s high ranking business man. He held the cup out, you took it, then turned, finding it difficult to face him with the feeling of his eyes bearing down on you. 

Franklin sighed. “Don’t stay mad at me forever,” you heard his voice whisper at your back. 

His tone had changed. From direct and blunt to Subtle, gentle. 

You stayed silent. All the words you had for him, you’d left in his room. Your heart might possibly be there too. Sure you were breathing, and perhaps even participating in what was taking place. That didn’t mean you hadn’t died. Attention on the cup. Or the counter, the wall. Anywhere but him. You closed your eyes, and only opened them again when you heard him walk away. You wanted to be relieved, but you still very much grieved the loss of what could have been. 

You promised to be helpful but once alone, you skipped finding Cissy. 

Instead you decided to brave your way outside onto the porch. Some stragglers were making their way in when you wondered out. 

Uninterested in the rest of the arrivals you sat and made an attempt to massage your forehead. The headache had grown worse. Too many thoughts. From inside the house you could hear groaning. The power had gone out. A second later the hot air slapped you when Melody stormed through the front door. You dropped your hand and watched her descend the stairs and cross through the lawn. Almost a minute later Franklin came out. He removed his suit jacket, sitting it down on the rail before he followed her. You took a deep breath as you watched her enter the house and Franklin go in after. Maybe she finally let herself break. He would probably need your help. You sighed, got up from the chair and made your way over to Andre's. 

Closer to the door you thought you heard a shot. Sometimes the kids in the neighborhood got the bright idea to light off some saved fireworks. But you knew the difference between the sounds. The sound that came from a gun rattled you. Although the projects seemed to have more drive by’s then the average neighborhood, you could never get used to the pop, pop, pop. In all fairness you hated guns. So there had been panic, thinking she’d found one of her father’s and pulled the trigger on herself. You froze. But then, another shot, and another. It was like your soul had left you. 

The air was still and heavy when Melody walked past. You called after her. She didn’t stop. Just kept on going. Despite the cumbersome feeling of dread you couldn't resist the urge to see inside Andre Wright's old residence. And where was Franklin? Why hadn’t he come out yet? The unknown parallels drew you in, as you took hesitant steps forward. The front door creaked open when you turned the knob. Light outside barely illuminated the space, casting eerie shadows on the walls in places the sun could not reach beyond the whileding blinds. You hesitated. A chill ran down your spine. 

There was Franklin, laying there on the floor.

“S-She shoot you?” You had become so scatterbrained at the sight, the situation, that the words were dispensable and unwarranted. The power came back on. You ran over, touching him out of instinct only to earn a pain ridden whimper in return. A glance at your hand. Franklin's blood covered the whole of your palm. You looked down at the floor. The puddle beneath him had begun to grow, extending itself on the surface of the wood. It traveled and spread. 

More and more.

“Hold on.” 

Pressure on the wound. You'd heard that somewhere. But how would you decide which wound received the attention? The fabric of his shirt painted a clear picture of the locations in which all three gunshot wounds were located. Three, not one. You couldn't choose. Your mind screamed after a pillow. You scrambled over to the couch and grabbed the biggest one returning to Franklin as you took a deep breath to prepare yourself. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. This might hurt.” You situated the pillow at his side where he couldn't see you. You got up, ran around him and as gently as you could, pushed him up, so that his body would turn and lean on his side with the pillow's support. Franklin let out a groan that drug on. The sound would haunt you long after the gurgle in his throat choked him to silence. 

That's how you saw all the blood. 

“Oh my God…” Your eyes were blinded with horrified tears and without realizing, your dress had been tainted to a pretty scarlet. You changed position again. “I'm sorry Franklin. I'm sorry but we gotta put pressure on them.” You picked your memory as to where they'd been located when he laid on his stomach. You had forgotten that fast, but adrenaline had you alert. Every second counted. You found one small hole and reached for Franklin's closest hand. “Come on. Help me. Press down as hard as you can.” You drug his hand to the gunshot wound at his side. He'd barely made any effort to apply the pressure you demanded. You looked down to find that his eyes were heavily lidded, but directed toward the spinning fan. “Hey Franklin. Can you hear me? Franklin!” His mouth moved, but the words were difficult to understand. You leaned down struggling to make sense of them. He said sorry, and one word you would distinctly never forget. Mama. 

You were sure that you had never screamed help as loud as you had on the hottest day in L.A’s history. The earthquaking of feet hadn't stopped you, no matter how close they’d come, arriving just as Franklin's eyes closed.

The only screams that could rival yours were Cissy’s and you couldn't remember just how you managed to switch places. She cradled Franklin forgetting about the pillow, rocking back and forth as she wiped the blood from the sides of his mouth, telling him to wake up. Your hands shook as you tried to differentiate Cissy's movements to the rise and fall of Franklin's chest. 

“Franklin. Franklin please…” 

His name traveled over her lips holding to desperation, in only the way a mother could utter such pleas to a dying child.

“Get up Saint.” You heard Leon say almost through gritted teeth, “Come on.”

“Alton, hurry up!” 

You turned your back, unable to look anymore as you clung to Leon and cried into his shoulder whispering amidst Cissy's screaming over and over, he's not dead. Perhaps wishing that the last encounter between you wasn't set to bitterness. 

Watching the ambulance drive off was much the same experience as watching the hearse. They'd managed to get Franklin on a stretcher. You watched one of his arms hang over the side as they lifted him and used his first name to communicate, although he never answered back. Cissy, glued to his side, was the first to enter after Franklin and the medical team, followed closely by Alton. 

You hadn't let go of Leon. Both of you held the other up. 

For the second time that day, you stood in haunting awe. 

…

“Well. That's it. You have my card. Give us a call if you hear anything else that can help the investigation.”

Between the countless questions and the weather, you'd checked out. It was only after you felt the dryness of your tongue, and the wave of lightheadedness, that you realized you hadn't drank any water in those hours after Franklin had been hauled off. When you were offered a glass, you finished the whole thing almost in one gulp.

“Will do officer. Will do.” 

Leon stood to his feet and watched until the car had faded completely. He crumbled the card in one hand carelessly tossing it aside as a now scrunched down ball that hid within the tall grass. 

“Fuckin’ pigs.” 

You smiled, greeting Leon’s afro with the pride that rested within its tight coils. No one ever called the police in South Central. 

Existing between the community and the boys in blue remained a silent war. It had been ever since the migration black folk made in the 19th century. Of Course it had spanned beyond that, and south Central wasn't an isolated thing. Leon said black people were everywhere. A great migration. You would laugh, Leon could be so serious, but the way he said certain things was funny. Ha, we should have migrated our ass back to Africa. It had always been his dream to visit the motherland. Oh, he read plenty. He never told many people. Sometimes in her complacency your mother could make him feel less than a dog. Leon always ran with the wrong crowd. So by America’s statistics, he was never gon’ be shit. Probably not live to see thirty even though twenty six would be pushing it. When your father died Leon needed a role model to take his place. Like your mother said, he was to be the man of the house. That meant niggas from the neighborhood. Specifically, those belonging to the PJ Watts Crips. Franklin had always been the brains but Leon’s curiosity took him to different places far outside of society. 

“Them motherfuckas is still slave patrol. You can read that shit. Just gotta know where ta' look. Any nigga don’t know that dumb as fuck.They really think I'm bout to rat out ma people.'' 

Leon took a deep breath. With the promise of sundown, the heat and its intensity had faded enough that you both sat on the first step without complaint of being too hot. Another thing you hated about funerals. Why all black? 

“At the same time. I know a few niggas that would snitch tho’, sellout, so I guess I can't speak for er’body.” 

Typical Leon, having another private conversation with himself. Although his dislike for the police hadn't stopped him from showing up, he always spoke his mind one way or another. He'd stayed clear of Andre growing up. Franklin came to the projects more than Leon came to 56th. You smiled, and this time laughed only slightly. But when you looked at him again you began to blink back tears as Franklin's words crossed over the paths of your mind. Go back to the way things were. That would mean Andre would still be alive. Kevin too. 

Leon faced you. “What? Wassup?” 

“You got blood on your shirt.” 

Leon peered down at his chest. The muscle shirt peeking through his black button up had speckled red in different places. You'd transferred it to him during the panic. 

When the phone rang you both had forgotten about Leon’s shirt as he hurried inside the house with urgency. You didn't follow. You felt dizzy and confined to your place on the porch. But the waiting for Leon to return stirred up unbridled anxiety. When he did come back you shot up beyond your better judgment with hope dancing on your darkened hues. 

“What happened?” The familiar rise and fall of your chest returned and your heartbeat pounded within your rib cage. “Don't tell me. Please. Don't tell me, he?” You wouldn't let yourself say it, you could hardly even produce such a thought. Yet Leon held all the power. Just enough to make you flatline completely. 

“They said uh.” Leon hesitated, he shook his head as he lowered his gaze to the pavement. Only when he seemed to gain the composure needed to tell you did he meet your eyes with the news. “They had to put him in an induced coma. They don't know if he gon’ make it. It's all just a waiting game now.” 

There it was again. The youthful nativity. It crept up in how you chose to respond. “But can we see him? I mean, is he in the ICU?” 

Gravity steadily pulled you down, as Leon proceeded to tell you the rest. 

“Alton said Cissy don't want nobody up there.” 

You averted your eyes to the sky, then ran your tongue over your bottom lip. A car drove down the street, then another a few seconds later. Consumed in your own private emotions you’d forgotten that Franklin was Leon's best friend. When your eyes found him, he’d taken his seat on the step again rubbing his hands together quietly. You wanted to comfort him, tell him it would be okay, but the new information made it difficult. He didn't fall into a coma, they’d put him into one. That sounded worse. Any other time would have been simple. You could do it with ease when you were removed from the situation. When it didn’t touch you so closely. You watched Leon before trying to force yourself to sit down and throw your arms over him. The gesture kicked off the shakiness that lingered in every word. 

“I'm sorry. Maybe I could've done more to help him. Or I did too much. Probably wasn't supposed to move him. But I couldn’t leave him like that. He called out for her and said how scared he was. He couldn't really speak but I heard it. It was all scrambled and mixed up. But he didn't want to die. Said he was sorry. Sorry for what?” 

Leon’s hand reached up to casually run over your arm.

You hugged tighter. “I remembered when you got shot. How I couldn't sleep anymore after that. Now I'm always looking over my shoulder. Looking over yours. Seeing you in that hospital scared me so much.” 

Leon sighed. 

“Yeah. Shits fucked up. But it's the life we chose, so. Comes wit’ it. I tried to keep you protected. So you never had to see any of this shit.” 

He said it so casually like he'd gotten numb to loss. The last part held your attention. You sat up struggling to see his eyes. They were clouded, but not with tears. Just this hard stare. Vastly different to the one Melody held.

“He's gonna be okay Lee. You made it. He'll make it. I just. Why? Why did she do that? I don't understand. I wanna understand. Why would she shoot hi-?” Your words caught in your throat. As you talked you could see everything all over again even though you'd changed out of your dress and stockings. Irrily, they'd been some of Melody’s clothes that were still hanging in her closet. Simple track pants and a T-shirt, just until you got home to your own things. “She shot him so many times,” you continued. “All that blood. Never seen so much blood.”

Leon raised his head, verbalized something along the lines of. “Fuck. Damn Saint,” so low in revelation, you almost missed it. The hard stare left, replaced by one that conveyed cognizance. He breathed, rubbed at his temple and turned his head to look at you. “You sure it was Mel.”

You let him go and sulked at his question. “Yes I'm fuckin' sure,” you half-way shouted. “I watched her walk down the steps and toss the fuckin’ gun. She had this strange look in her eyes all day. Like she was somewhere else. I mean, maybe she just snapped. It was too much pressure being around everyone given what she was already going through. I mean what, do people on rock do stuff like that?” 

“How tha fuck I'm spose ta’ know? I ain't never done that shit,” Leon said with a scowl. 

You smacked your teeth. “Chill out. Don't come at me like that.” You rolled your eyes and shifted your sitting position. “Damn. It was just a question. You sell it so thought maybe you'd have an idea,” you answered back sarcastically with a roll of your neck. 

You went silent. You were trying to justify everything. Melody’s actions, Franklins. Why out of all days it had to be the hottest? How death became the defining theme in all different aspects of the word. When Leon closed his eyes, you suddenly lost your anger to curiosity. 

“What is it? What aren't you telling me?”

Leon licked his lips and got up. “Nothin’. Nothin’.” He changed positions and faced the house. “Imma go get our stuff and lock up so I can get you home so you can get cleaned up. Jerome should be down in a minute. There's nothin' we can do right now.” 

You placed a hand on your forehead and reached up to fumble with your bun until it all came loose and you pulled the scrunchie releasing some of the pressure as you freed your hair. Discovering that had added to your prevailing headache. 

“Okay.” 

“Give me a minute.” 

Leon left you standing with more questions than answers. You ruffled your hair although most of it remained held up by the gel you’d applied. Why? That word knocked at your brain. Why would Melody shoot Franklin? What had Leon figured out that you were still trying to piece together? The blood on your hands had dried. The red tint held tight to your brown hue. Wondering if you would be able to wash it off completely, you gasped suddenly and swallowed down the taste of bile. That large plate of beans you'd selfishly eaten might come back up because of the horrible truth that hit your mind, connecting the dots in an intricate pattern of reality, that quick! The urge came again and this time it forced itself out of you. What you'd consumed from that morning to afternoon was now a mustard yellow, and brown over the pavement, making itself a brand new color. More came up. Everything you saw and heard the whole day made sense. You wiped at your mouth with the back of your hand. Random people looked while they walked by. Your throat burned with a bad aftertaste. Andre hadn't committed suicide, you realized as your broken words kissed the heat.

“Franklin killed him….” 

A/N: A little bit of a dark one, I know. But I’ve always wondered how they found Franklin after Melody shot him at the end of season 3. So muse was like write that out why don’t you! 😌🙌🏾 So I did, and that is what we have with our precious reader insert added in ofcourse. This is actually a sequel piece to Brother Ain't havin’ it. During the read you heard Reader and Franklin mention an amusement park. Yeah, that fic explains exactly what happened at the amusement park. Now will I write it? Haha I don’t know 😅. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the reading. If you have time, drop a comment. Let me know what you thought. I dig the feedback, big or small. 🙃 As always, happy reading. 💙

PLEASE DO NOT COPY OR CLAIM ANY OF MY WRITING. -Wide Nose And Wonderful.

[the-blue-wraith]

My review for Dragon Age: The Veilguard (SPOILERS BELOW)

These are my personal opinions and not personal attacks to anyone who loves the game.

Pros:

Combat is invigorating.

Exploration is just fine, not too overwhelming.

Side quests are not lengthy.

CC was great and had lots of sliders and lots of good hair too.

Harding, Bellara, Lucanis, and Emmrich’s voice acting are in point.

NPCs are more active in terms of animation, unlike in previous games.

The codex you found in areas is short and easy to read.

Dragon fights are more challenging.

Banters outside the Lighthouse are compelling.

Emmrich and Harding's quest are impactful.

No major glitches, only encountered a few minor glitches.

Cons:

Writing is just basic. Humorous/aggressive dialogues are not totally funny/aggressive. Companions/Rook are too polite.

Dialogue after the fall of Weisshaupt feels off, they don't need to say directly to players that companions need to resolve their problems before fighting the Gods.

Interaction inside the Lighthouse feels like an interaction inside the workplace. I wish I was kidding.

Some dialogues are repetitive (ex. “The elven gods have broken free from their prison” “Dragons don’t have kings, they have queens”).

Factions lack introduction. We didn’t get to know each faction in depth.

Story and companions lacks conflict/disparity.

Choices from the last 3 games didn’t matter, and became a wasted chance to explore in Veilguard.

Can’t talk to NPC like in DA:I.

What's the point of having gifting scenes where all they could say is "thank you"?

Some voice actings are a bit off, lacks emotions (American Female Rook/Neve)

Enemy designs are repetitive.

Ability wheel is lacking, it should’ve let us get 5 abilities to use in battle.

Qunari designs are not good.

Overall music is too ordinary.

Romances are lacking and have no growth

I really enjoyed the combat it reminds me of Mass Effect. The best part here are the dragon fights because this was one of the things that I anticipated years ago, and I'm quite satisfied! I like the flow and conflict at the end of Act 2 up to Act 3. That scene with Varric in the Fade still hits hard to me. 😭 I know it was sad, but in that phase I was motivated to finish the game. I just wish the flow of Acts 1-2 were intense like Act 3. Like I said, it lacks conflict.

After finishing the game, I ended up liking Emmrich and Harding. I didn't give a shit about Harding back in DA:I but now I like her even more 😆. Emmrich's quest was the most impactful to me, I chose to revive Manfred, and after that, I saw how much he loves him, that scene was heartwarming. Kudos to their voice actors 🙌🏻

I resonate with Bellara's quest, but I wish it could've been more dramatic. Like after what happened to her brother, her companions should've given her a hug and comfort. But I still like her quest; kudos to her voice actress too.

What bothered me was that Varric and Solas both got sidelined. I wanted Solas to have more screentime! I wanted to see him more as a villain. I don't know why Bioware decided to kill Varric, to me, it felt like they just used him in the game to attract fans. If you ask me, that's disrespectful to Varric's writer, who got laid off.

The romance here sucks. I was disappointed in how they handled Lucanis' romance. I didn't feel the buildup of my Rook's relationship with him. I felt like he was interacting with me as a friend 😭. Veilguard has the weakest romance system in Bioware games.

Overall, I would rate this game 7/10. I think the game is decent, but not for everyone. This game is for casual players who want to experience different RPGs, but for DA fans? It really depends. As a longtime fan, I would say I'm half-satisfied with Veilguard. I just wish the writing/dialogue could've been better and not repetitive. I wish we had an option to become evil and upset companions if we make bad choices, but sadly the game lacks conflict and disparity. Veilguard didn't keep up with the current RPGs, despite its lack of RPG elements.

Will I replay this game? Yeah, someday maybe. Do I think the game is that bad? Nope, but it's lacking. The game is not for everyone. Do I think the game deserved the hate it got? Yes and no. Yes, because the writing/dialogue in this game is basic and some times felt off. And no, because I still think the game is fun. Do I want DA5 to happen in the future? Sure, why not.

Despite all my criticisms of this game, I still love Dragon Age. This series saved me in high school. If my younger self were here and witnessed Veilguard, I know she'd be happy because she waited so long for this game.

[queen-beefcake-sqx]

you know, I’m about 30 hours in — almost to the end of Act 1 — and I think I’ve finally pinpointed what’s been really bothering me about Dragon Age: The Veilguard.

Light spoilers up to end(ish) of Act 1 below.

A little after I got Davrin and dealt with the Minathros vs. Treviso dilemma, I told my gf that this game was a fun RPG, but it didn’t feel like a Dragon Age game and I was having a hard time pinpointing what it was, because there are a lot of things I really love or understand about design-wise why certain choices were made.

The battle system is fun and dynamic, and I find myself switching my builds often when I’m stuck on a fight. The accessibility options have been great for my and my gf’s needs, including the difficulty scalers. I love the return to DA2 style maps except like, even better? The verticality is INSANE and the various environmental puzzles feel like the right amount of difficulty. I enjoy the characters and their interactions (mostly, more on that in a second).

And I understand the decision not to carry over EVERY SINGLE CHOICE since DA:O, and I actually think it’s smart to use a system that carries over specific choices — although I think they could have done more — and my gf even suggested the brilliant idea of a future DLC model that has you pick certain DLC-specific past choices that flesh out the impact of past choices as DLC. Which I think is a brilliant option for combating choice creep, because let me tell you — it becomes a LOT of writing and alternative dialogue lines for things that ultimately don’t have to have a direct impact on Rook, and I’d rather not have to feel the urge to set three games worth of choices every time I do a run.

And I can even handle either a little handwaving or just outright rewriting some past canon to make certain choices all wind up with a consistent outcome. I’m a Kingdom Hearts fan! I’m used to it!!! Whatever.

But it finally hit me what IS bugging me — DA:TV is the most sanitized, depoliticalized Dragon Age ever. It’s like Bioware read all the criticism of DA:I’s plot and the choice to make the Elvhen gods slavers over their own people and went, “Oh people didn’t like that, so we’ll stop doing that. We won’t mention the Antivan Crow’s history of training child slave soldiers, we’ll relegate the social discrimination toward the elves to a single Davrin line, children aren’t ripped from their parents under the Qun, and we’re going to show you all these ~*vaguely bad groups*~ without really giving any context of what makes them so truly awful. You’ll get the idea, because your groups are the good guys and the Big Damn Heroes.”

And I’m over here slamming my hands on the table shouting NO! It wasn’t that we didn’t want the politicized stuff! We wanted you to do it better! We wanted to feel conflicted working with the Antivan Crows, needing their network but despising their methods! We wanted to see the roots of an uprising in Minrathos lead by the escaped elves with Magisters like Dorian on the inside! We wanted false gods who could be slain to return the Elvhen parthenon, the gods the elves had always worshipped, but who had been prisoned and replaced — we wanted to find how much of Solas’s tales were truths versus lies! We wanted a goddamn nuanced look at the non-soldiers within the Qun, the ones who truly feel at peace knowing they have a purpose!!!

Not knowing what’s happening is an intentional choice, because if they spelled it out — set the conflicts within the larger geopolitical tensions that have brewed over three games — they’d have to acknowledge a long series of questionable narrative choices the games and supplemental material have made in the past. And from where I’m sitting, it looks like they chose to ignore and handwave 90% of it instead of actually wrestling with it and trying to bring some nuance to it. And that’s just disappointing.

[mxcnliight]

baby, can you meet me tonight in detention? (cyj)

Choi Yeonjun your longtime bully has finally had enough of your and puts your in your place, but the teacher catches you guys. so you get to sent to detention with him. when you’re all alone with him, what will happen? ♫ I can feel your blood pressure rise, fuck this tension ♫

Paring: Bully!Yeonjun x Fem!Reader

Theme: One shot; SMUT, PWP, fluff (?)

Word Count: 2.8K

Warings: sexual tension; dirty talk; degradation; swearing; breath play(?); oral sex (f receiving); p in v penetration; unprotected sex + creampie (use a CONDOM)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You yawn as boredom hits you, waiting for your math class to start. You have never been good at math nor were you ever interested in it, so you always just hope the teacher won’t call on you. 

You look out the window and see the sun shining, it’s a nice day today. No rain or clouds! You know you have to do something after school, maybe go to the ice cream shop with your friends or get a tan by the pool. 

Whatever it is, you know, you just can’t waste a day like this. Suddenly, you hear a jingle, right on time. You look over, and see your bully, Choi Yeonjun, walk into the classroom. 

He wore his signature black leather jacket with a white undershirt paired with black pants and black boots. His crimson red hair catches attention, so everybody can tell it's Choi Yeonjun. 

His eyes meet yours as you hold eye contact until he sits down at his desk. Looking away, you roll your eyes and wonder what torture you’ll be experiencing today. 

From the time you were a freshman, Yeonjun was your designated bully. He would slam your locker in your face, throw paper airplanes at you with nasty words in them, make you trip, etc. 

You didn’t know why he was bullying you, but you found out one day and it was the stupidest thing ever. You became best friends with a girl named Yuna and the reason why Yeonjun was bullying you was because he had a crush on her and you were "taking her away from him".

It was so dumb that you wanted to punch him for his stupidity, but you never got the chance (or strength). When Yeonjun first started bullying you, you were frail and fragile. 

You didn’t know how to handle him, but now as a senior year in high school, you have gotten used to his antics. You know how to handle him and protect yourself from him. 

You thought he would have stopped years ago, but he told you, “I’m not stopping until either I get caught or you go and be a little bitch and tattle tale on me, got it?” You still remember the cold glare he gave you that day. 

You would have told the school counselor, but you just felt too guilty to. Speaking of feeling guilty. Another thing Yeonjun did to you was manipulate you, but you wonder after you both graduate what he’s going to do? 

He’s not going to have another doll to play around with, unless he still keeps in contact with you, and you hope to god he doesn’t. Just then you feel something hit your head as you look down at a paper airplane now in your lap. 

You give Yeonjun a disappointed look as he gestures for you to open it. Rolling your eyes, you open it and it reads ‘You look like a witch with that makeup on you, did you even try this morning?’ You look back up at Yeonjun and he's stupidly smirking now. 

You roll your eyes and scoff before crumpling the paper airplane into a ball and throwing it in the trash can. Not cool Choi. You cross your arms and look up at the board. 

“Wanna piece of gum?” You look over and see Yuna holding out a piece to you. You nod and take it into your mouth before chewing. “Thanks.” She hums as you both look back at the board. “Alright class… let’s get started, shall we?”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Forty minutes later and class is finally done, thank god. You barely understood any of the material, so you know you’ll need Yuna to explain to you later when you get home. 

You look to your left and see Yuna putting her folder in her bag. “Hey, could you explain the notes to me tonight?” You ask her. “I would love to, but I have a cheer meeting after school” she frowns. 

“I can teach it to you during study hall before class tomorrow?” “Yeah that’s fine, thanks.” She nods and smiles at you as you smile back at her. You begin to gather your things when you jump in your seat from hands slamming down on your desk. 

You look up and see Yeonjun towering over you and you frown. “What do you want, Choi?” “Did you do my English homework?” You smirk and scoff at him before laughing. 

“What’s so funny bitch?” He asks as you deadpan him. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Yeonjun, does it look like I’m your little servant? No.'' You begin to sling your bag over your shoulder when Yeonjun suddenly chokes you as you widen your eyes. 

Your hands go over his neck trying to pry them off of your neck. “What’d you say to me, you little bitch?” He says in a dark tone, staring dead into your soul. “I-i’m not your little servant… bitch.” You say, stuttering as he becomes enraged. 

As he was about to do something, he was interrupted. “Choi Yeonjun and Y/N L/N!” You both look over at your teacher who is fuming with anger. “I will not be having this type of ruckus in my classroom! Detention for both of you!” Yeonjun’s hand leaves your neck as you both look at each other and sigh. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It felt like forever to walk to the principal's office because Yeonjun was staring at you the whole time. You’re now sitting outside the principal's office waiting for him to get done with Yeonjun. If he hadn’t started this, you wouldn’t be here right now. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms; this was not the time to do something Choi. 

Out of the corner of your eye you see a lady walking towards you. “Here’s an ice pack, sweetie.” Your eyes widen at her kind gesture as you take the ice pack.

You thanked her as she left. You then put the ice pack around your neck. Just then you hear the door open as you look to your left and Yeonjun comes out with the secretary. 

Yeonjun sits beside you as the secretary lady squats down to your level before taking off her glasses and rubbing her forehead.“Alright so we have come to the conclusion that Yeonjun was the person that was responsible for this ruckus, but you were still involved, Y/N, so I will need both of you to report to Mrs. Hans’ room after school, is that understood?” 

You both nod as she puts her glasses back on and gets up. “I will write both of you passes for your next class.” She goes back into her office while you turn your head to match Yeonjun’s deathly stare.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once the end of the day hits, you go straight to Mrs. Hans’ room, not wanting to be late. Once you arrive in her room, you see Yeonjun isn’t here yet, which isn’t a shocker. 

You make your way over to a desk and sit down. You then put your bag in your lap, waiting for the period to start. A minute before the bell rings, Yeonjun arrives, looking angry as ever. 

You see him take a seat only 2 desks away from yours. You look back at the board before getting your lip gloss from your bag and applying some to your lips. 

You then smack them before putting the lip gloss back into your bag. The bell rings as Mrs. Hans sighs. “Alright, since both of you are here now, we can start. Welcome to detention, Yeonjun is a regular here, so I’m not surprised, but for you Mrs. L/N, I’m rather disappointed.” She gives you a side eye as you look away. 

“Anyways, you all know the drill. Phones in the basket,” she says, holding out a small basket. You look over at Yeonjun, who is getting out his phone, and so do you. 

You both get up and put your phones in Mrs. Hans’ basket. Once you sit back down, you put your bag on the floor next to you. “Now, silence for the next forty-five minutes.” You see her open her book as you roll your eyes; this can’t get any better, can it. 

Minutes pass as you are extremely bored; you get so bored that you count the tiles on the ceiling. You occasionally sneak glances at Yeonjun, but he is just as bored as you are. He is just staring at his hand; you wondered what was on there. 

Just then you hear a teacher come by Mrs. Hans’ room. Mrs. Hans then looks over at the teacher, then back at us. She sighs before grabbing her keys. “I’ll be right back,” she says before leaving. 

That's easy, huh? Now it is just you and Yeonjun both sitting in silence. “Why do you have to be such a bitch?” You look over at Yeonjun, oh, he’s starting this now? “Oh, so I’m the bitch? Says the guy that has bullied me for four years straight,” you say, before rolling your eyes. 

“I wouldn’t be sitting here if it wasn’t for you,” he replies. “Oh no Yeonjun. I wouldn’t be sitting here if it wasn’t for your selfish, greedy, egotistical self! I have done nothing wrong, it’s all your fault, Yeonjun!” You raise your voice as you stare at him. 

He clenches his jaw and balls his hand into a fist. “No, it’s all you, Y/N. You’re the selfish egotistical bitch, you always have been!” “For what?! For taking your girlfriend?! If you really wanted her, you should have just asked her out!” He goes silent as you sigh until you suddenly get slammed into the desk next to you. 

You look up in confusion as Yeonjun wraps his hand tightly around your neck. “Who told you I liked that little bitch?” You look at him confused. “You do like her, don't you?” He then does something unexpected: he kisses you. 

Your eyes widen as he roughly makes out with you. You whimper, trying to pry Yeonjun’s hand from your neck because you can hardly breathe. He breaks the kiss and stares at you intensely. “I like you, you little brat” Your eyes widened; he did not just say that. 

“W-what?” You say as he flips you around and your hands meet the cold service of the desk. “Yeonjun, let’s talk about this-'' Just then he rips your patines off from underneath your dress and throws them away. 

He then wraps one of his hands around your mouth. “Be a good girl and keep quiet, okay?” He then removes his hand and goes down between your legs, holding them open. Your face heats up as you can feel his breath on your pussy. 

You whimper, “Y-yeonjun… what are you doing?” He then chuckles as his hands meet the sides of your thighs, “I want your slutty fucking pussy in my mouth.” You moan at his words. “But Yeonjun, we can’t… not here.” “Yes we can and you are going to give it to me.” 

You feel his tongue on your clit as you whimper; you put your hand around your mouth trying not to moan. He licks back and forth up your slit as you're trying so hard not to moan. 

He flattens his tongue on your clit and begins to kiss at it. You whimper a bit, but not too loud. You could get caught at any moment, but it feels so good. Along with him making out with your pussy. You’re still trying to process that Yeonjun apparently likes you. 

His tongue moves to your hole, slowly teasing it. “I want your fucking pussy cream on my tongue,” he demands as you moan at his words. He then slaps your thigh with his free hand and you let out a yelp. “What did I say about keeping quiet?” He growls as he begins to flick his tongue along your hole. You close your eyes in pleasure. 

“You like that?” He asks as you hum, still trying so hard not to moan. “This pussy’s fucking mine. I own it.” He growls as he starts to sloppily kiss your hole. You whimper at his words as he growls on your pussy. 

“Don’t you fucking cum yet,” he demands as he increases his tongue movements as you try not to moan. His fingers then move up to your clit, slowly circling around it, sending you more pleasure. 

“Yeonjun, please,” you cry out as you can feel him smirk. He moves two fingers to your hole and slowly pumps them inside as you moan. He continues to lick your pussy while his fingers are fucking in and out of your wet hole. 

“Shit… you feel that? My fingers in your pussy and tongue on your clit?” You whimper at his words as you nod. “I just want you to give in to me. Give it to me, yeah? Push your pussy in my fucking face.” You push your hips down a bit at him as you feel him growl at your pussy sending vibrations up your back. 

“Fuck baby, I need you inside of me.” He then gets up and puts his hand on your chin, forcing you to look at him before he kisses you. His hands sneak up your body to meet your clothed breasts, slowly massaging them. 

He then breaks the kiss and takes his pants off along with his boxers. You look back in anticipation for his cock to be inside you. “Fuck baby, are you ready?” You nod as he lifts your dress up with one hand and uses the other to slowly push his thick cock in.

You both moan at the feeling of him stretching you out. “So tight, only for me right?” “Mhm, all for you,” you say as he completely bottoms you out. You whimper at the feeling as his hands meet your hips. 

One of his hands reaches up and wraps around your mouth; again, he gets close to your ear and whispers. “Be quiet” Before he starts thrusting into you, you throw your head back in pleasure.

It feels so good, you have never felt anything like this before. “You’re mine, alright? Mine. Nobody’s else’s. You belong to Choi Yeonjun.” You moan into his hand as you feel tears in your eyes.

He then grunts out, “Oh fuck baby pussy’s so fucking good, who knew it would only take a dicking down for you to shut up?” You whimper at his words as his thrusts increase, pounding into you. 

It feels so good, yet you feel a wave of embarrassment hit you with Yeonjun fucking you in detention. “Mhm, fuck baby,” he lets out a low chuckle. “You’re going to be my dumb little bitch, hm? Gonna take all of my cum in your tight little pussy mhm?” He mumbles in your ear as your eyes close, you are so close to your orgasm. 

“Oh baby, you close? I can feel you fucking clench around me. You wanna cum hm?” he says as you nod vigorously, wanting to release the tension building up in your body. 

You feel Yeonjun smirk as he kisses your cheek. “Nobody's  stopping you Y/N. Cum for me.” His thrusts increase as you almost yell into his hand around your mouth as if it is so much pleasure. 

You then feel Yeonjun’s free hand move down to your clit, rubbing to the pace of his thrusts. “Come on baby. You don’t want to get caught, do you? So then fucking cum for me,” he growls into your ear. 

His words give you the final push, and your orgasm shoots through your body as your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Fuck yeah baby! Just like that, mhm, you’re going to make me cum too,” he says as he releases his hand from your mouth as you crash onto the desk while Yeonjun’s still trying to chase his orgasm. “Oh shit-“ He says as his cum shoots into your pussy, filling you right up.

You both try to catch your breath as you’re still lying lifeless on the desk. You feel Yeonjun slip out as he breathes heavily. “Who knew a brat like you had a good pussy?” You roll your eyes at his comments and turn around to kiss him. 

His thumb rubs on your jaw as you kiss. You break it and huff out at him, “I hate you.” He chuckles, “Says the one who just came on me.” You roll your eyes when you hear something as you both scramble to get your clothes on. 

You then return to your seats like normal as Mrs. Hans comes back in. “You two didn’t do anything while I was gone?” She asks as you look back at Yeonjun, then look back at her to nod. Once detention is done, you both finally get your phones back as you are about to walk out the door. Yeonjun stops you as you look back up at him in confusion. “Could I have your number, baby?”.

[3gremlins]

feel like im having a DA2 experience again where I really liked it and was in my little "this is good" cocoon where i played it many times only to emerge from underground and find everyone else hated it (i mean ive found the other da2 cicadas since but at the time it got really slammed). i've been really enjoying DA:TV so far ( lol tho obvs have notes) here's an early thoughts review, may be a bit spoilery, def rambley, trying to stay vague on stuff still (i think i'm about half way maybe? im trying to not look things up and doing it blind on my first run through. it's hard to tell b/c i went hard on all the side quests and am now way over level for the msq)

the combat system is a little jarring at first and i still miss at least being able to switch to and play as party members if your character dies (instead of the god of war style of full wipe), but i've gotten used to it (it's more annoying for boss fights, regular combat it's very zippy and fun). the targeting at least on controller is kind of annoying sometimes- i'll think i'm pointing at one enemy only to have rook turn and fire at nothing or companions to hit an add instead of a boss. I wish we at least had more control over how it queued who it was hitting. some of the arenas are obnoxious design wise - there's bosses that teleport to you and they give you like a tiny little box to dodge around, not the most fun. i do like that you can punch way above of your weight class sometimes which reminds me of DAO a little bit (like how you'd just wander into a fight or hit a gong and be like oh no, those enemies have skulls over their heads, oh well YOLO). sometimes it doesn't work out but when it does it's very satisfying. It's nice to be able to conquer something mechanically even underleveled (smol fromsoft vibes) Having always been a big fan of the strange composition parties (i.e not just war/rogue/mage), i like that this is now even more viable (and not just me being cheeky "we're having a leather party!" of all squishy rogues). but like the main thing about bioware games is the companions/interpersonal shit and i'm enjoying the heck out of that .i only do main quests to get more side quests from companions (or more side quests in general so we can troll around for more banter). i like petting griffons (and cats and dogs) and playing games with manfred*. I wish the gift system was more interesting like DAO or DA2- i was so excited to see it again and then it was a little disappointing to have them barely react when you get them stuff.

my current fave party are rook and the poison boys (emmerich and lucanis) since they're a rogue too and we just stack necrosis, bleeds and other elemental effects on things till they disintegrate. i like the lighthouse, it feels much cozier than skyhold. I love that you can just wander up to companions having convos and awkwardly eavesdrop. I do miss the little interactions/quests you could get with cole esp*** i think the animations are a little lack lustery? Idk there's something with the face model morphs that sometimes feels weird but the voice acting is strong enough that I don't notice too much. i do miss some of the more bioware-y cheeky things like item descriptions or weird notes near random silly environmental tableaus (there's a little but i just want to read all the notes! there's some in the grey warden areas where i was just like WAIT I HAVE QUESTIONS but there was no plaque about them T.T). where are the stacks of cheese (i do appreciate the fereldens love cheese jokes tho and harding getting so excited when someone says something nice about ferelden) i was esp bummed that there were no random things to read in the black emporium and it's all codex entries instead (that's my favorite tiny bit in DA2 where there's junk you can click on and xenon says weird shit to you). i also wish more had been done with accents of npcs- like i wish all the antivans had similar accents or your crow rook had an antivan accent, stuff like that (having a lot of "ferelden" generic british accents everywhere is disappointing. takes you out of the immersion a lot) My biggest gripe is probably the pacing - I wish it had more horror/mystery pacing like dao and da2 had- the reason we're all scarred by the brood mother is b/c the build up to that was so so creepy (also the necromancer bit w/hawke's mum in DA2). They gave us time to be unnerved or afraid and I do feel the evanuris reveals have been a little rushed so you can't really feel that worried about them (some of the side quests get close to this but still not quite there**). I wish they'd let them breathe a bit more instead of rushing from one giant world changing event to the next. Some of the reveals have been not so great- like lore that the fandom has poured over for 15ish years explained in one line?? i wish there'd been more build up of rook as a character too, maybe even a time skip from a prologue to finding solas kind of thing. the first trailer made it seem like that's what was going to happen but then it in media res'd us in a strange way. the first 10 hours of the game are probably the weakest imho, it took it a bit to get rolling and feel more natural. I appreciate that the first major decision doesn't really let you scum save for it (bit of a jump scare for me lol).

I also don't really need this much varric anymore, i kinda wish we had a different narrator if we have to have one. He feels really awkward to just have there and not doing anything(and not just kill off or have something happen to him? he got stabbed by the dagger and harding only touched it is what i'm saying). at least let him get better pjs and slippers or something Idk it does feel like bits of previous iterations they were working on are still there and they don't completely serve the plot well. And ofc there's the decisions not meaningfully carrying over thing- which is a huge bummer. But in reality they've never been good at that- the characters from previous games we see in new games don't really carry through their plots/arcs that much (it's more like cameos or they're a new person now) and the world states are usually effectively the same just with aesthetic faction swaps. I was sort of hoping we'd get some solavellan SOMETHING but it doesn't look like we will get much at all past the stuff in minrathous. i feel like if they were going to only include the one choice it really should have had more impact on the story. (i am also still a clown and want to talk to solas constantly still even tho he has no reason to talk to my rook at all, i do not care, i love a sad woof. i wish we could just casually visit him in the fade. i wish we could switch to lavellan and visit him in the fade, idk something. need more gareth david-lloyd pls) the interpersonal character decisions have been the only ones that mattered much and then only within the constrains of their own games- the bigger world changing stuff is usually the illusion of choice. It would have been nice if they let us have one protagonist carry through but i can also see why they liked changing it up and felt stuck in that format. tl;dr: i'm really like it for what it is but it's def got flaws. Parts of it feel super polished while other bits do not- i think knowing how game dev works that they had to make decisions on what was going to get prioritized and some of it works while others not so much. I wish the pacing was better for sure but i love the characters/companions which is generally what bioware is best at. sad it won't get meaningful dlc, i don't really care about mass effect 5 tbqh. So far I like it better than inquisition for the most part- it feels like a bigger/more polished DA2 in a lot of ways if that makes any sense (with similar budget/pacing issues, but the environments are more fun). as i mentioned in my other post, i really appreciated the trans/non binary inclusion into the story/cc tho. like that can't be discounted, even if the rest of the game has issues. (all the holes in the narrative make me want to do fan art and fan fiction tho so idk, maybe that's an okay thing. maybe dragon age is best at inspiring us to sandbox around in it)

*side note, i am surprised at how much i like emmerich like holy shit what a lovely soft nerd of a man! going to have to play through a few times and romance him and also bellara for sure (romancing lucanis this time round) i find myself shipping my companions with each other more than i normally do too. I just want them to be happy! I wish they'd let us have polyamory, like i could see little polycules in this squad so easily. i need to give bellara hugs and lucanis head pats. taash deserves head pats too, but my rook will need a ladder.

**i am going to cry if they do with the griffons what i think they're doing with the griffons. like straight up, feeling like it was a cursed wish to have them now T.T *** do we think the caretaker is cole? the character design makes me wonder (like the hat/silhouette is very cole like but maybe not. maybe i just want it to be cole lol) there's def characters i want to see show up that aren't going to and then bioware is like "what about this fan favorite??" and i'm like "eh".