#around the world in eighty days spoilers

[flintstill]

I MEAN

[whenthegoldrays]

Wow it's very evident that Jules Verne is not a romance writer, but I still think it's cute that Aouda is the one who proposes to Phileas, and in the end I think they do make a really nice couple.

[oppositetfmu]

Compilation of memes I made on TikToks AI meme generator.

[marictheirins]

know your enemy fallacy unlocked in my brain so ive played 10hrs of datv after snapping & the review isnt looking good. ive limited spoilers to just one minor one but look at thyne own risk my honest review thus far---

this game is optimized worse than early access bg3, whole environments just dont load or even unload as i run around sometimes stuff not loading for minutes at a time. i have collected loot from chests locked away clearly from places im not meant to be because the damn wall never loaded sooooooooo

dragon age 2: the sequel right down to varric clearly telling the story like he's written it already. this is not a benefit for me, thats a big negative

the prologue is incredibly disappointing after inquisition's MASTER CLASS in how to begin a game. i could literally play by play moment by moment go into why the prologue of inquisition is one of gamings best openings but haha its funny rook beat up people in bar because bad ass teehee

actually the writing overall has taken a step backwards, most quests are uncreatively predictable & the dialogue is flat & lacks any sort of life. its giving MMO quests.

the combat is fun but it doesnt work half the time with the game forgetting the mouse buttons or number buttons exist ive died twice solely because i couldnt actually attack bc the game didnt register i was clicking my mouse or pressing hotkey 1

custom character gets reset at random & i have to reload the game several times for the game to spawn the correct edited character

i would love to care about neve but its hard to give a shit when her voice actress doesnt give a shit about delivering her lines. bellana's actress over acts and thats fine considering her character but these two have scenes together and its soooooooooooo embarrassing to see which actor cared and who wanted a paycheck

actually it feels like 70% of the various cast of npcs are just flatly reading the script & its violently immersion breaking not to mention the game treats the player, the protag, AND the npcs like they are stupid. rook parroting information to a character who parrots it back is not effective or good writing thats just repeating the same words several times so the player doesnt forget, addled by this happens in scenes back to back multiple times about any major plot point which wastes time & paints me, the player, as too stupid to pay attention when i was told the first time

$80 for 40hrs of main story. youre joking. supposedly theres 60-80 overall if you 100% it but the main story can be beat in 40 flat. for eighty goddamn dollars.

so far this has been a mid tier triple a game with dragon age packaging, it took about 4hrs before i actually felt like i was playing a dragon age game vs a copycat styled game. over the shoulder camera sucks im so over this goddamn pov. it plays, looks, & feels like a sony ip in a bad way. god of war last of us resident evil ass controls camera and gameplay.

its jank, the animations glitch & ragdolling just happens, hair textures muck up, again my enVIORNENTS DISAPPEAR. despite running on ultra bc my rig can handle it the textures & some of the models are plain ps3 looking, not nice at all not a loading issue they are just poor assets.

corridor simulator. i sure love that we finally broke free of the curse origins put on da2 where we had repeat maps long hallways & got to never explore bc dai was more open world & while some of the maps were too big we have regressed to going in a straight line, limited exploration, & each widdle level gives you a chest as a pat on the head because we are playing a very pretty platformer :)c $80

why do i have health pots in boss battles, is this a zelda

companion ai is nonexistent & the tab to open the spell / ability menu to tell my companions to do their job is clunky & invasive & in previous games companion ai let the party fend for themselves just fine why does harding have to be told to heal me when any mage in origins 2 or inquisi just already knew because low health trigger

rook is just hawke again. 3 options for dialogue red purple green dont fix it if its not broke i guess but the inquisitor had more options AND the warden had tons of dialogue choices to really flesh out a character. multiple origins are nice but whats the point of these elaborate backgrounds that are constantly mentioned by both rook & npcs if i didnt get to see or play these events. it feels like im playing someone elses character or that rook isnt a player protag its just the character you play vs one you create

f to jump, not spacebar ???? thats not how video games work bioware even you know this because spacebar to jump is the default in inquisition you absolute morons

if you survived this far heres some positives, the first being that i heavily enjoy the legacy characters popping up to support various factions maevaris tilani the bad bitch that you are i gasped when she walked into frame & i could recognize her INSTANTLY which dai failed to do with its legacy cameos like teagan fiona hell even loghain and alistair are uhhhhh not great so im glad we took greater care in making these characters more identifiable

sorry, lucanis hot. im a stupid bitch who likes the crows leave me alone.

it is pretty, i will give it that its a pretty game. the artstyle is a hit or miss tho

i like when rook smiles its the same smile animation the inquisitor had in dai its very cute

transmog is cool ig

u can call solas an asshole within the first hour of the game and that makes up for negative number six bc its my review and i make the rules

im not having fun. like honestly im not. this game is disappointing but im at this point willing to finish the main story at least to get the lore and closure i want from this franchise. this game is this odd thing that doesnt fit in the series & is vastly different from its predecessors in what i see is a detriment. gaider and weeks are VERY different directors and have split this franchise in two for better or worse. while i love dai its not perfect and started the stray away from the formula leading into scary new territory but at least it felt like dragon age. veilguard just feels generic and boring as any EA or ubisoft title out there it feels like a product im aware im playing a product instead of a game. that hurts the most honestly

[bb-sg]

1189 Days

Gojo x Reader angst story

This story does contain some anime spoilers if you haven't read the manga past the Shibuya Arc.

TW: Heavy angst, no comfort.

Summary: Gojo has been locked away in the box for 1189 days, and finally returns to you.

One thousand, one hundred and eighty-nine days. The sun has risen and set over a thousand times since he last saw you. There have been a thousand mornings that he hasn’t been able to wrap his arms around you while you lay next to him, begging you to stay with him for just a few more minutes. He has missed out on the opportunity to see you dancing around the house, playing music too loud while making dinner hundreds of times.

The second that he is free he goes to look for you, not wanting to go another minute without you. He starts by going to your shared apartment, only to find that someone new has moved in. All of your shared possessions are long gone. He asks the landlord about your whereabouts, only to find out you officially moved out about four months after he was locked away. Gojo’s heart sinks at the thought of you trying to keep up with the rent all on your own.

He reaches out to your friends and family, trying to find you, trying to see your beautiful face again. That’s how he came to find out that you had moved to a house on the outskirts of town. That’s how he came to be standing in your driveway looking into your home.

His stomach flipped and twisted with nerves, unsure how you would react to seeing him again. He had kept you a secret from his colleagues and family, trying to protect you from the jujutsu world. He wanted to keep you safe and have a small part of his life feel normal. Now it was going to be his downfall. He had no idea how he was going to explain his disappearance, but he was going to try. He had to. He had to get you back and have you back in his arms again.

Just as he was about to walk up the sidewalk and knock on your door, he saw you through the window. His heart skipped a beat when he saw your smiling face in what he guessed was your living room. You looked as gorgeous as he remembered, maybe even more beautiful as you matured. Your hair was longer and styled differently, your style of clothes had changed, and you look like you had lost weight. He cringed at the thought of you not eating, he always had to remind you to eat more. Was there anyone there to remind you and make sure you were taking care of yourself while he was gone?

He watched, careful to stay hidden behind a tree, building up the courage to approach you. He watched you laugh at something as you brought in some of your favorite snacks. You looked happy and relaxed, talking away to someone.

Then he sensed it. You weren’t alone in the house, there was a man with you. He watched another man walk up to you and wrap his arms around you.

No. No this couldn’t be happening. Gojo’s heart shattered as he watched the man lean down and place a kiss on your lips. The same lips Gojo had kissed a thousand times. He felt rage bubbling up inside him while he watched the man swoon over you, whispering something in your ear that made you throw your head back in laughter.

As he looked closer, he saw your ring finger sparkle, a shiny engagement ring resting on your hand.

Please God no. Gojo begged and pleaded to somehow make it not true. Was this just a nightmare?

Gojo felt overwhelmed with emotions. Anger, sadness, jealousy, envy, and pure rage. Not mad that you had moved on but angry that he had left you alone for so long. He bit his lip and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, concealing the prickle of tears building up in his eyes. He couldn’t blame you, of course, you would move on after he disappeared without a trace or word.

His legs were carrying him to your door before he could even think of what he would say to you. What could he say to you now? What would he do when you opened the door? He couldn’t stop himself from loudly banging on your front door, staring ahead, and trying not to look into your window.

“Coming!” You yelled from the other room. The sound of your voice made Gojo hold back more tears. He forgot how beautiful you sounded. Your voice, your laughter, and your moans were all music to his ears. He wondered if this would be the last time, he would get to hear you.

He froze in place as the door opened and he met your eyes. You gasped and covered your mouth with your diamond-clad hand in shock, eyes wide with disbelief. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to swoop you up and hold you tight. Being face to face with you broke him down, your eyes swelling up with tears, slowly spilling over and running down your cheek. He wanted to wipe the tears away, kiss your sadness away and take you back home to where you belonged. With him.

You made the first move, taking a step toward him and gently placing a hand on his cheek. The second he felt your skin touch his Gojo lost his composure. The dam holding back his tears finally broke when he felt your touch, the touch he had craved for the past three years. The same hand that had held his own and held him close for so many years. The same hand that now touched another man the same way it had touched him countless times. He gripped your hand and held it against him while the two of you cried in silence.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He stammered, his voice breaking and uneven through his sobs. He would give anything to go back in time and undo what has been done. When he looked into your eyes, he saw the sadness that his absence created, he saw the worry, anger, and confusion. It made him hate himself.

It’s been eleven hundred days since you’ve seen his face, heard his voice, or breathed in his scent. Thirty-nine months have gone by with no answer to where he went, why he disappeared, or why you haven’t heard from him. Hundreds of unanswered calls and texts still live on your phone, never being read. You lost track of how many times you’ve bawled your eyes out, wondering what had happened. Did you do something wrong? Was it something you said that drove him away?

The first day you had made dinner at home, waiting patiently for him to get home from work. The two of you had planned a night together, watching your favorite shows while enjoying some of your favorite meals and snacks. You set everything up for a cozy night in, trying to make everything as relaxing as possible, knowing he would be coming home after a long day at work. You looked at the time and saw it was already ten minutes past the time the two of you had agreed to meet at home. At first, you shrugged it off, knowing Satoru was always late to everything.

As the dinner grew cold you began to worry. What if he had gotten in an accident? Your mind played out worst-case scenarios in your head, but you told yourself to stop overreacting. It was Toru, you had never seen him get some much as even a paper cut. He probably got caught up with his students or stopped by his favorite bakery, getting lost in some new sweets they had. Then it was midnight. The food you made had been packed up and put away for a while and you sat on the couch, clenching your phone waiting for something to signify he was okay. It never came. Each minute that passed you felt your stomach drop a little more, your anxiety making you pace around your living room, bile bubbling up in your throat.

The first week he disappeared was the worst. You waited up each night waiting for him, only sleeping when your body had finally given into exhaustion, and you passed out. You called his phone every hour but always got his voicemail. Fear and worry sewed into your bones so deep you couldn’t shake it, making you sick. After two days you went to the police station to file a missing persons report. The police did what they could, but it didn’t ease your mind. After going to the police station, you called the hospitals, checking to see if he had been admitted but turned up with nothing. You weren’t sure if that made you feel better or worse. Then you checked the jails, knowing Satoru’s big mouth could have got him in trouble. Still nothing, it was as if he vanished. His friends didn’t know where he was, and you had never met his family so that was already a dead end.

 After the third day, you were frantic. Your chest felt tight, you couldn’t take a deep breath, any time you tried you would start hyperventilating. You called around town again, hoping someone had seen your white-haired boyfriend somewhere. The apartment you shared was in shambles after you turned over everything you owned looking for some clues or answers. Maybe there would be something in his things to give you any idea where he might be. Who he might be with. You found a shirt he wore the day before he disappeared, and you clutched it to your chest and cried. The smell of him still lingered on the shirt and it made you ache. You remembered going to the store with him in that shirt, grabbing him by the collar to pull him out of the candy aisle. You thought of how handsome he looked in the shirt as he sat across from you at dinner, gently stroking your arm while you complained about your day. His beautiful blue eyes peering at you over his glasses as he looked you up and down adoringly. This was the same shirt that you had started an argument over because he threw it on the floor when you two got home instead of the hamper. Regret settled in your chest, seeping out of your pores. It all seemed so stupid now, so insignificant. Maybe he just left you. Maybe he was tired of how you nagged him or how moody you could be. Finally moving on from you and finding someone better. You wailed and buried your face into the shirt.

With Each day that passed you felt yourself growing more and more numb. Half the time you paced around your shared apartment, praying he would walk through the door with a goofy smile and a wild story. The other half the time you spent calling around, putting up posters, and checking with the police. After a couple of weeks, the cops determined it to be a cold case, preparing you for the worst outcome. They told you the likelihood that they would find him alive was slim. Your heart shattered, you left the police station and sat in your car for an hour. You cried and screamed at the top of your lungs, begging god to wake you up from this nightmare, to end this agony and suffering.

After a month, you noticed the posters you had put up started to come down or were replaced with something else. You continued to call around, but it was clear that there were no leads and everyone else seemed to give up hope or get annoyed with your incessant calls. You spent all your time in your apartment alone, just waiting. You lost your job weeks ago when your boss lost their patience waiting for you to come back to work. Not that you cared. The food in your fridge went bad, including the meal you had prepared for him, but you never cleaned it out or restocked it. You couldn’t bring yourself to clean, to eat, or to shower. Eventually, you just slept and waited for him.

The only thing that was bringing you any comfort was a photo of the two of you that you held close. You stared at the picture of you two smiling widely at the camera. You traced the shape of his smile and relived the moment over and over in your head. You pleaded with God to give you another opportunity to make more memories with him.  

Two months later your friends and family began to worry about you. When you didn’t return their calls or texts, they elected to drop by your apartment to check on you. After they found you, living in chaos, holding Gojo’s shirt while you slept on the couch they decided to intervene. Your best friend packed a bag for you to go stay with them, but you resisted. You screamed and yelled for them to leave your apartment because he could come back any minute. Any second he would come home to you. You just knew it. They dragged you out, kicking and screaming, telling you it was for your own good.

Time seemed to stop moving, day in and day out you laid around your friend's house. They tried to get you off the couch, but you refused, not wanting to experience life without the love of your life. Your friend put out food and water for you every day, but you barely touched it. You had already lost weight, but it didn’t matter to you. What was the point of going on now? Satoru was your world and your future. Now you couldn’t see any purpose to keep taking care of yourself if you didn’t have him in your life. 

Did he really abandon you?

After three months you became angry. How could he do this to you? After all the time you had spent together how could he just vanish without saying a word for months. You then received news that you were being evicted. You returned to Gojo o and your apartment to pack everything up. Going through his things it hit you, he wasn't coming back. After four months you began to accept that he wasn’t going to walk through that door again. You prayed that he was at least safe.

It took six months for you to start eating again and sleeping less. You humored your friends and got off the couch a few times to go out. You plastered on a smile, put on a mask and laughed at their jokes, all the while feeling numb inside. You began looking for a new job, trying to pretend like you were back to normal. You went through the motions everyday, carrying an empty shell of yourself around, fooling those around you. You felt nothing.

Then one day, while at your new job, you met a coworker who genuinely made you laugh for the first time in eight months. He sat next to you on your lunch breaks, bringing you extra food every day to make sure you are eating enough. It started as a casual work friendship, but you found yourself looking forward to seeing him each day. He was sweet and patient with you.  He didn't ask about what happened but reassured you that he would be there if you needed him.

Eventually, he started to need him. You confided in him while he helped you get back on your feet. He made you laugh and smile again, his bubbly personality winning you over and breaking down your walls. He almost reminded you of Gojo.

A work friendship developed into a relationship, starting out slowly. You found yourself wracked with guilt at first feeling like you were cheating on Gojo. That faded with time, so did the pain, the numbness, and the agony you felt over the past year. Although not a single day didn’t go by that you didn’t wonder where Gojo was. 

You learned to love again and be loved. You and your relationship flourished and grew stronger. After a year and a half your boyfriend had asked you to move in with him, then later on to marry him. You happily accepted his proposal, moving forward with him. 

Now, over three years later you are staring down the face of a ghost. Looking into the eyes that had haunted you for so long. Your chest tightened and a wave of sadness washed over you as you remembered the countless nights you waited for him. On the other hand, you felt a sense of relief, knowing that he was alive and well.

He looked broken and lost standing in front of you. You couldn't help. but reach out and comfort him, placing your hand on his cheek. His large hand covered yours while he cried.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He choked out the words, barely audible over the two of you crying.

You pulled your hand back and ran into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. Gojo held tight against him like he was afraid you would evaporate into thin air.

He smelled just as you remembered, fresh like clean linens and lemon. It reminded you of your old apartment, your old life. You buried your face in his chest, not wanting to pull away from him just yet.

Gojo held you close, breathing you in like it would be his last breath, his last chance to touch you. He cradled your head against him as the memories of you came flooding back to him. Time stopped as he held you, praying for this moment to never end.

Like all good things, it came to an end as you pulled out of his arms. His eyes pleaded with you to stay just a little longer, but you heard the sound of your fiancé shuffling to the door.

“Honey, who is at the door?”

 Gojo released you as he heard your new lover approaching. The man walked around the corner to see what was taking you so long. You stepped back from Gojo and turned to your fiancé, wiping the tears from your face.

“Sorry, um this is-”

“An old friend,” Gojo interjected. He watched you turn back to him with red and swollen eyes. He had ruined your life once; he wasn’t going to do it again.

“I just wanted to stop by and say hi since I was back in town, but I should be going now.” He watched your fiancé approach the two of you, wrapping an arm around you protectively. He was happy to see you being cared for, being loved in his absence, even if it killed him inside. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat and forced an innocent smile to spread across his face. His cerulean eyes drifted down to you, studying your face one more time.

“You seem happy. It was great to see you again. I should go though.” He said to you, holding himself back from touching you one last time.

You felt your chest tighten as Gojo looked you up and down. You knew the smile he wore was fake, you would be able to tell that from a mile away, you knew him too well to be fooled. You wanted answers, to know why he vanished, but you accepted that maybe this would be all the closure you got. It was enough to know he was safe.

He turned to walk away, his heart breaking with each step he took away from you. Away for good. 

“Please take care of yourself.” You called out to him as he turned his back to you, officially closing the book on this chapter in your lives.

He couldn’t bring himself to look back again, he knew if he did, he would run back to you. He would selfishly plead with you to leave with him, to go back to bed with him so he could wrap his arms around you and beg for just a few more minutes with you. 

You were happy, safe, and loved. That was going to have to be enough. For now. He wiped his face clean and pushed his glasses back in place before officially leaving you once again. 

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[alicepen]

[E-18]

Kaidan x AFAB db WARM oneshot

Kaidan mod belongs to livtempleton on nexus

Will involve spoilers of the kaidan mod

mention of Inigo, Auri, and Lucien who belong

to SMARTBLUECAT, Waribiki, & JosephRussell

I had only just defeated alduin on the throat of the world- but it wasn’t enough. What I need is a plan- and the context of Alduin going to Sovngarde after cowering off in the heap of battle surly made a mess of things.

I needed a drink.

I thank my companions who had followed me through this unfortunate incident- one of them being Kaidan. He and I had known each other longest; with finding him in an abandoned prison, going through an old cave from his childhood, unmasking his past and heritage, and an ex lover.

This ex lover of his was a powerful destruction and conjuration mage, whom had a disturbed body due to her own mutilation for spells. Kaidan, in response, said that when she threatened my life, he lost any sympathy towards her. Thus, he killed her, and I suspected it took a toll on him mentally.

A couple weeks or so after the incident, Kaidan was clearing his mind still. What helped distract him was the fight on the throat of the world. It exhausted all of us, but it helped Kaidan move on from his past. He was still his broody, serious self, but he seemed more…distracted as of late.

We spent an entire day and a half in solitude. Inigo and Lucien had went off to the Bards College- Lucien wanted to look at some books, and Inigo had to tune his lute. Auri had kept a distance from the market and went to the inn for some jagga- she’ll be disappointed. Kaidan followed me to the blacksmith as I needed a tune up on my bow, and it was an awkward silence between us. Kaidan would eye me from to time to time, and I, of course, noticed but kept it to myself. His mood today seemed strange, and I could tell he was anxious about something due to his boots shuffling against the floor from time to time.

“This is a dwarven bow, pulls back perfectly twelve inches, and the quiver can hold up to eighty arrows.” Fihada, the owner of the flecher, spoke. He showed a case with a amber metal crafted bow, carved with dwarven material and a thick string.

“Looks great. How much for it?” I asked, tilting down to the bow with a gleam. Amazing how a weapon from an extinct race was still crafted after all this time.

“Well, I have a couple. Enchanted, sharpened, both or none. Which would you like?”

“Both.”

Fihada pulled out a dwarven bow, pulsing a red glow. “Fire enchantment, can pierce through heavy armor, around 1400 septims.”

I pulled my coin purse, the jingle caused the shop owner to grin.

Kaidan quickly put his hand on my arm, lightly touching to my hand with his other. I looked up, he furrowed his brows.

“Hey, I can get it if you want. I owe you this.” He mumbled, his voice was a crackle, like a fire in a cold home.

“I suppose.” I shrugged, he gave a soft hum and pulled out his own coin purse. In the heat of the moment, back when we faced a troll, Kaidan had his bow disarmed in battle, causing him to grab mine. Mine was not a war bow, it was made for less strong pulls and more quicker tactics- and in the heat of the moment, forgetting it was not his bow’s strength, completely snapped the string.

“Thanks for the business!”

The sky was a golden tropic, shining down on solitude and her lovely stones. Lucien and Inigo had already gotten back to the inn to rest, while Kaidan and I were alone. The silence came back, to us sitting in silence and only merely glancing at each other when the said other was looking away. I didn’t have the courage to speak, I still don’t, not with this gauge of a thick layer called “tension.” We decided to head back to the inn, where the group was rested.

“No Jagga? What type of inn is this?” I heard Auri complain to the keeper of the winking skeever.

“I.. I’m sorry we only sell Nord, Imperial, and Breton drinks here.” Corpulus Vinius sighed, he was rubbing the counter with a wet rag, cleaning up stains.

“Besides alcohol,” Lucien interrupted, “do you have any rooms for five?”

“Five?” Corpulus itched his neck, thinking for a second. “I’m sorry I only can give four for tonight…”

“One of us needs to share a room with each other. Is one of the rooms with two beds at least?” Inigo asked, bringing his tankard to the counter.

“No, but we have a one queen sized bed that can fit two.”

“Oh boy.” Auri tapped her fingers against the wall, very much keeping her hands away from wood.

“Hm.. is any of us alright with sharing a bed with anyone?”

“I erm..” Lucien’s awkward voice chimed, “I rather sleep alone in one room… if that is alright…”

“That’s fine, Lucien.” I nodded, and he was already leaving for the night. Poor chap was exhausted.

“Why don’t you and Kaidan share the room?“ Auri proposed, smiling slyly towards me. I fumbled, twisting my hand behind my back to grip my fist.

Kaidan cleared his throat, “would it be more appropriate if you two shared?”

“Why is it not appropriate for you two to share? You two are close friends, besides one can sleep on the floor if it’s that bad.”

“You just want a room by yourself too.” Inigo glanced to Auri, who giggled.

“Fine,” I sighed, touching my temples with my fingers. “We can work something out.”

“Aye. I’ll stand uh, guard if need be. I don’t need rest.” Kaidan tried to comfort the situation, leading me to run my hand through my bag to pay for the rooms.

“You do, but sharing a bed isn’t the worst since it’s just one night.” I paid for the rooms, and immediately Auri and Inigo went upstairs.

“Have a nice night!” Auri chirped, mostly looking at me and having a mischievous grin.

I faltered my footing slightly.

I would assume it was around eleven in the night, and the group was asleep as I sat at a table upstairs near the bedrooms while I drank. My armor was in the room, in the corner by the bed and I was in more comfortable clothing, a brown shirt with black trousers. I couldn’t sleep due to pondering over what transpired for the past month. Alduin, Sovngarde, Kaidan…

A door quietly creaked open, and I turned in my seat. Kaidan-who was out of his bulky armor and in a soft, low cut rugged shirt with loose pants-was gazing at me through the door.

“Y’alright?” He asked, opening the door fully and leaning against the frame.

“M��fine, just having something to drink before I sleep. What about you? Why aren’t you asleep yet?”

“I can’t sleep.” Kaidan mumbled lightly, his voice was forced but still gentle, a breeze tickled my earlobes.

“Hm?” I got up from my seat quietly, keeping a hand on the table, “What’s wrong, then?”

“I...” The tall man stuttered, pinching his eyes shut as he gulped down what I could tell to be his strained words, “Skyrim is cold, a very chilly province- you would be freezing once the weather hits. It will be freezing soon.. and I’d like to… help you stay warm…”

“What do you mean?” I asked, raising my brow as to egg him on more.

“Haven’t you figured it out?” He looked me in the eyes, standing up straight, his hands fidgeted by running through his messy hair. “Me… stealing glances of you… any moment I’m with you... I can only think of being closer… physically.. mentally..” his breath hitched as he saw how far he was going to his words. My chest was pattering.

“Come to bed with me, you know I’ll still be there in the morning..”

I flushed- he was suggesting.. oh gods. My whole body warmed, my arms crushing to my chest as to feel if my heart was still beating like a hummingbird.

“I-I.. uhm.. yes.. maybe..? Uhm..” I couldn’t speak, this felt embarrassing. I was independent, strong, free willed... but this moment made me feel so bashful. I didn’t know how to understand this.

“Are you blushin,’ dragonborn..?” Kaidan chuckled under his breath as he walked to me, taking my hand into his. His lovely shade of red eyes were codling down into my weakest conscious. “Let’s see how long that’ll last..?”

I obligated, giving a soft nod as we entered his room together, letting the door slowly close and letting a soft click play.

Kaidan kept his hands on mine the entire time, letting them run up my shoulders and to my cheek. His hands were large, as any Akivirian, and Kaidan used them so gently. His fingertips running across my skin, leaving gentle flutter kisses with the feeling of his freshly shaved face on my neck- it’s almost as if he prepared. He smelled so nice, and his hair was washed and still cold. Oh yes, he definitely prepped for this moment.

“You freshened up, didn’t you?” I spoke under my breath, causing Kaidan to leave a hum on my neck.

“It’s a coincidence, I assure you..” he gave a breathy chuckle, letting his hands slowly trail to my torso- he was hesitant, moving his head for his eyes and mine to be in contact as we exchanged consenting glances. He knew what he was doing, I wonder if he at least knew how he makes me so weak...

We haven’t touched our lips yet, though instinctively I felt hot under the collar. Kaidan was only touching to my cheek, staring me down with his gentle eyes. The moment was long and quiet, so far only eye contact was the most intimate moment. My hand gently rose, cupping to Kaidan’s cheek all the same as he did mine, but I tilted him down to me- the man was a towering sweetheart.

Kaidan accepted the tilt, leaning down to put his nose against mine. The hold of our breaths kept us on edge, through the mental contact of souls: our eyes. My entire body flared up as I contracted our lips together- finally. It was slow, and mostly breaths touching each other’s skin as we awkwardly sealed our lips. This kiss was what you would expect for a first time. Of course, Kaidan felt aback- as if it was his first. I knew it wasn’t, and that kind of got me a bit relentless. But his surprise and shock as to the kiss made me wonder if he accepted this more than the ones before.

Our lips touching for the first time felt electrified, for how small the connection was.

“You..” I breathed, once we got our space, “you’re okay with this.?”

The man smiled lightly to me, giving almost a soft chuckle, “Thought maybe I should be asking you that? Yes, I’m fine.”

“How should we..?” I asked, looking to the side as to distract me from staring too deep into his eyes. gods, those eyes..

Kaidan gave my cheek a gentle caress as to calm both of our nerves. “We’ll improvise.” Kaidan gave a soft twitch at his lips, like a smile, to me which was chasing butterflies around my stomach. I sighed and gave him a kiss to the chin.

“That works.”

Kaidan had gotten my lips again for another longing kiss, putting his hands on the bed as to coax me down to it. The tips of his fingers were leaving nerves working on my skin, as his fingertips connected to the nape of my neck, caressing down to my collarbone. The feeling was so gentle, and careful: complete opposite of how I knew Kaidan to be in battle. He was aggressive, rough, a tank in a fight. But now, he was so gentle and loving- it made my heart swell.

His hands rested on my shirt, and gave me his longing eyes to ask for the removal of the damned clothing- which I immediately acted on. I took the cloth off and even went as far as to tease my undergarment strap to fall off my shoulder.

As his cheeks went to match the color of his tattoo, he eyed my face and kept his hands on my shoulders, lightly using his thumbs to circle my skin.

“Can I take the rest off..?” He asked, so gently it was almost a whisper.

I smiled warmly to him and gave a soft nod, “yes.”

He took a gentle inhale as his fingers found the hooks to my undergarment, and lightly undid them. The straps gave into gravity as my garments fell off my body. I tossed them to the side as they were no longer wanted. I could almost hear Kaidan’s heart beat like a hummingbird. An adorable display, even so when he went to give a kiss to my chin for light measure.

Kaidan’s lips caressed down my neck and to my collarbone. His nose tickled my skin, along with his feather-like kisses. My body tingled and shivers were up my spine, which caused my back to curl towards him slightly. He was intrigued by this, continuing his lips to my abdomen as he ignored my breasts. The feeling had my heart sink a bit, but was reversed as his hands went to cup them, gently. Kaidan’s palms were warm and big, and they’re enough to be a bra themself.

Kaidan was not a talker, that was obvious. But it was curious to see his eyes speak for him. The way he looked at me, I could hear him say the most heart melting things- his actions spoke for him.

As a Hand stayed on my chest, with gentle fondles and playful squeezes, the other went to hook a finger onto my last undergarment. His lips were right under my stomach, and I could feel my entire body shake with anticipation. Kaidan gave me his longing stare, practically begging me to let him continue. I nodded quickly, and tried to lift my hips to help remove them faster.

Once removed, Kaidan silently gazed, plotting out his next move. Embarrassed, my legs hesitatingly went to close, but Kaidan put his palm on one of my knees in a light touch. He looked up to me, and gave me a small quirk of a smile. His fingers of his free hand laid against my inner thigh as a tease.

“Would you like to… prepare…?” He asked, removing his hand on my knee but keeping his other dangerously close to my abdomen, as he scooted his body up to nearly lay next to me. I bit my lip and raised a brow.

“How much do you think I need preparation?” I hummed. He shrugged playfully.

“I don’t mean to brag, but…” he snickered, which caused a humored huff of from me.

“Oh, fine then. Let’s sate your ego…” I replied and he gently kissed my cheek as a response.

His hand went to lovingly crawl down to my folds, eagerly awaiting my plea. This tease…

“Please.” I muttered, and he obliged. Two of his fingers dipped gently around my labia, feeling around. I inhaled at the sudden feeling, and silently watched his face as he did mine- most likely scanning for discomfort.

I can hear my arousal, and it made me shiver with embarrassing thoughts. Lip biting was my last resort to keeping my cool.

Once he got his fingers… wet… enough, he dipped in and I inhaled slowly. The impending ring of fire was more light and gentle than I would have expected. Nonetheless, it felt discomforting but not painful.

“You alright? It will pass… but tell me when it’s too much and I’ll stop…” he spoke, the second half being more clear and stern than his gentle ask. I gave him a nod.

“‘M fine… just gotta get past the…” I huffed and he nodded in an understanding. He curved his palm in a way that had the carpal of his hand rub against my clit. I whimpered slightly at the feeling and Kaidan took it as a good sign. He pushed his fingers in deeper, and started to make a more curving motion.

The ring felt less hot and more comforting. It slowly began to undo me into a mess. I relaxed my muscles and limbed gently against the bed. My mouth was slightly ajar, feeling so relaxed of just feeling his fingers. Hearing the sounds of his fingers thrusting in a quicker manner, even adding a third that I barely noticed, I felt my body go hot, mind numbingly hot.

Even as he stopped, I could feel my mouth water from the pleasure.

“Do you think you’re ready?”

“Huh?” I asked, just coming out of my dazed thoughts. Kaidan chuckled.

“I asked if you think you’re ready..”

I cleared my throat and hummed, lifting my torso up with my elbows balancing me.

“Yes.”

Kaidan’s swift movement of removing his clothes was short lived, and rather a blur. Though, I was in awe that he was, in fact, valid to brag. He moved his hand back down to me and gave a firm wipe, and lubricated his shaft. I let my legs fall in a opening display as I waited eagerly.

A hand on my knee, and with an aim, he slipped in. The ring of fire was hotter and brighter, a far harsher reaction than his tough fingers.

“Gods- I…” I impulsively whimpered, clasping my fingers over my lips. He gently went to hold a hand, which was basically now pinned to the bed, as his other pressed against the bed too, but left my other hand free. He looked down at me, dazed as I, as he waited for me to relax my nerves. Once I was in a less uncomfortable situation, he thrusted out and pushed back in gently, going farther in.

The process repeated till he hit my cervix. Kaidan sat in a patient demeanor, kissing my neck as I adjusted to him fairly quickly. I wrapped my legs around him, loosely, and asked for a continuation. He obliged.

Kaidan kept his eyes on me, and I felt a surge of flush fill my face as I awkwardly tried to keep the eye contact. I could tell he was amused at this. Considering he was closer and closer to just fucking me silly.

With hips hitting mine, I felt the edge gently grow closer. But it always felt far. Kaidan went to gently sit up, and placed his hands against my hip as he dug me closer. My hands wrapped around the sheets of the bed as I felt my body go limp. My skin felt hot, my brain was fuzzy with warmth, and my mouth let out sounds of pleasure. I did my best to see that I was never loud to wake the damn inn, especially my companions. But Kaidan made this oh so difficult.

The edge drew near, and I could hear Kaidan growing to the end as well. Oh, if the world ended I would be content to die on the spot.

“Ka-Kai..dan.” I stuttered, whining out his name as I felt my release on the tip. My breathing became vocal, and my legs squeezed him tight. My entire abdomen burned.

He predicted my edge, as a hand went to my clit and gently rubbed in a slow motion. That was the line, and my run came to an end. My breath became hitched as I felt it so hard to keep my voice contained. Kaidan went to kiss me to help, and I moaned into his mouth without shame. My hands twirling in his hair.

The hair gripping probably helped him release, because I couldn’t feel him anymore after my high. Just a very warm and wet sensation on my belly. His voice echoing my name in our kiss was sensational.

Taking all our energy to catch our breath and mind, we both slumped over on the bed. Heavily gasping.

Though, Kaidan snapped out of it quicker than me, and went to grab a rag to clean me and him up. He went to lay back down next to me, and we quietly went into each others arms, no words were needed.

As Masser and Secunda filled the night, Kaidan and I exchanged a voiceless cuddle, holding each other in a warm embrace as we let the night take us.

[megthemewlingquim]

wasteland, baby! | one: an eternity of sand

Summary: Striken with encephilitis lethargica, the 'sleepy sickness', you are stuck in dreams: an endless desert.

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x Reader

Warnings: vomiting

A/N: This chapter contains some dialogue from "The Sandman" #39 "Soft Places", written by Neil Gaiman.

It is here that you will meet Morpheus.

I will reitorate that there are MAJOR SPOILERS for The Sandman graphic novel series here. If you have not read "Fables and Reflections", "Brief Lives", "The Kindly Ones", and "The Wake", I would recommend you wait to read this until you have done so.

read the previous chapter: prologue

wasteland, baby! masterlist

You’ve been in the sand for years. Or, has it been weeks? Months? Days? It feels like… like…

You don’t know anymore. Time is meaningless, and your mind is mush. All you know is sand and sun and burning and nothing. The sand whips at you, tears at your face. The air is hot, scorching desert wind. The sweat drips down your face and you sink down onto your knees.

Which way is East?

You look up, squinting at the light. The sun is high in the cloudless sky, right at the center. You would think it’s 12 noon, if not for the fact that it has been 12 noon for days. Months. Years?

You’ve been checking the sun for that long, too. Or, at least, that’s what it feels like. You’re going mad, aren’t you? There is no time. No self. You are a formless, nameless puddle of flesh, stuck in an endless world of sand and sun.

You know you’re going to die here.

Can you die here?

Can… Can you… die?

You want to. It would be so easy, wouldn’t it? Just lay in the sand and let it swallow you up. Let it wrap you in a warm blanket and let yourself sleep.

Sleep.

Sleep.

You jolt up, your eyes stinging with tears. “Oh…” you gasp. “Oh.” You laugh, breathlessly, in a mad fit of relief and hysteria. “I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” You stand up, stumbling a bit in the fragile mounds of sand at your feet.

“I’m dreaming!” you shout, tears streaming down your face. “Hahaha! I can just wake up! Wake up!”

Nothing happens. Nothing about the world changes. The sand still drifts, the sun still shines, and the sky remains that crystal blue. All you hear is the whipping of sand around you.

Your stomach turns. The world spins. The dread sets in.

You scream into the sky. The sound echoes and fills the air around you, carried by the wind. It’s the solitude, the unbearable fact that you are alone in this endless world of nothing. Your throat burns with thirst, your stomach aches with hunger. And you are alone.

You are going to die here.

There you are, says a voice behind you. A deep, masculine voice that’s more solid than the sound of the sand in your ears. I’ve been worried about you.

I’m insane. I’m dying in this place and my mind is giving me one last dream.

That’s the most sound-of-mind you’ve been in… years?

Dream. A small hum of amusement. You could say that.

"Dream," you muse, staying perfectly still. You don't dare turn around. "What…?"

Is this where you've been all this time? This new person sounds… sad. Hurt, but not by anything you could’ve done — somehow, you know that. It’s been five years since I’ve returned from my imprisonment, and yet… I have not seen you in my realm. And you’ve spent much more time in my realm than most mortals nowadays. He pauses. It has been one hundred and ten years. That would make you three hundred and eighty five years of age, wouldn’t it?

All of this information is bombarding your brain. But yes, he’s correct… as far as you know. Something in his voice tells you that he knows that fact with one hundred percent certainty. And so, you are certain, then, that you are three hundred and eighty five years of age.

You have spent one hundred and ten years in the sands.

Your stomach jolts again and you heave, retching onto the golden sands in painful, lurching gasps. The bile is minimal, hot and yellow and liquid. It burns your throat and makes tears spring into your eyes. But you're crying for more reasons than this.

"What… the hell… is going on?" you gasp, when you stop.

I do not know. I am sorry.

It is then that you realize you still haven't turned around. Standing up awkwardly, wiping your mouth with your sleeve and turning around, you see a thin man with a shock of black hair, wearing a black cloak.

His jawline is razor sharp and his skin is deathly pale. His eyes, you notice, are a watery color; you cannot place if they are gray or blue or both. You see a singular white star in each one — and there is so much… of something… there in that small pinprick of light. You feel a deep shiver within you… you know, suddenly, that this is no ordinary man. He is a being, an entity, one that has seen too much for an ordinary mind to comprehend. He is old, older than gods, older than worlds, older than universes… And this being knows you, knows you more intimately and more completely than you'd ever think possible. It is beautiful and terrifying: he can see right through you, he can see your every thought and every hope and every dream.

Dream.

Dream.

"Oh… you're… you're him, aren't you?" you whisper, remembering the words of both Lady Johanna Constantine and Orpheus. "Dream of the Endless."

His eyebrows raise a little. I did not expect you to know. But yes, I am. Tell me, how would a mortal such as yourself come to know of the Endless?

"Lady Johanna Constantine," you say. "She let me know a little bit about you. She said she performed a task for you that nearly cost her her head."

Is it your imagination, or does a shadow of grief come across the Dream Lord's face?

That is true, yes, he says softly, looking down at his feet. She did.

"She rescued your son."

In an instant, Dream's eyes are back up, meeting your own with a fierceness that chills your blood and makes you lose your breath. There are many things behind his eyes now — anger, grief, confusion… dread… — but again, you know he is not feeling any of these things towards you. Despite this, it's still a gaze that you would rather not be a recipient of.

You know of my son? His breath trembles.

You don't want to answer him, but something inside you tells you that you must. For him. "Orpheus."

The very mention of Orpheus's name reveals a physical change in Dream — he seems to shrink, to curl up into himself. Tears shine in his eyes, now, but he quickly blinks them away. Yes, he whispers, in a voice that is as soft and fragile as a butterfly's wing. Orpheus.

"Something's wrong," you say, noticing this immediately. "I'm sorry to have upset you."

It is no matter. I only wish that things had been different between us.

He doesn't — wouldn't — want to speak of it further, you can tell. You ignore the sinking feeling in your heart… I liked Orpheus, you think, when I met him back in Paris. I wonder what happened to him.

Dream has a necklace on — a beautiful red stone framed with an elegant gold border, all trailing on a golden chain. It glints faintly in the sunlight… and then it's gone. The necklace and the ruby appear and disappear at random — and then it becomes a green stone, an emerald. The meaning of this is lost to you, but Dream notices your curious gaze and looks down.

Ah, he says, the tempest of emotion slowly leaving his face and voice. Time is meaningless here. This ruby is no longer existent. The emerald, however… that is different… He pauses, deep in thought. I have not had a dreamstone in five years. Perhaps…

Dream shakes his head. No matter. Shall we proceed in your rescue?

He does not wait to hear your response. He bends down and picks up a fistful of sand, letting the grains fall through his fingers.

Hold out your hands.

You do so. The grains are soft and warm on your palms. The sand slips through your fingers as well as his… but the sand doesn’t stop flowing…

Thunder rumbles, faintly, but you see no clouds in the giant, endless blue sky. Storms are coming, you think, in a voice that is very different to your own.

Dream’s expression shifts into one of amusement. He does not smile, but his eyes are bright. I did this once for a Marco Polo. I am beginning to see him, now, in your place, just as you have seen me, flickering and fading into someone entirely different. And perhaps you are thinking what he thought, all those years ago. But you need not fear when I am with you. I am taking you away from here.

You find yourself looking at the grains of sand, amazed and awed by the fact that you can see each and every one, and they form shapes and patterns in your mind. I am truly dreaming. They... are patterns. Dreams and sands and stories. Deserts and cities and time. The patterns make up a landscape in your mind and you are utterly absorbed into them. You have no idea what you’re thinking… or if it’s even you thinking... I’ll never forget this, I’ll never forget what I’ve learned here.

Dream’s voice echoes in your mind now. You can no longer see him. It sounds like he’s smiling. We shall go to another shifting place. But this one will not harm you.

The world goes dark.

[pancake-breakfast]

There was too much cliffhanger last time, so we gotta get moving today.

Stream-of-consciousness thoughts for TriMax Vol. 12, Chapters 4-6 below.

Chapter 4: The Gunslinger

CW. Body horror

Wasn't this a previous chapter title? Referring to Vash?

Knives, that's not even a hand anymore. What have you done to your body, sir??

Vash has his attention. Good. I think.

Oof, Vash just burned more of his power here, didn't he.

Yeah, he did. I hope Knives is as horrified as I am.

Hiding behind the glasses. Good luck, babygirl. I don't like whatever you're planning, but it's not like I could do anything about it. Or come up with better ideas.

Yes. Yes, we are waiting with bated breath. There are TWO more volumes, and we're not even halfway through this one, and babygirl doesn't have much gold left, and Knives is in full monster mode, and where the hell are Legato and Livio and Elandira and... and... and...

I mean, kill him, absorb him.... It's not like it would be a long jump from one to the other. He already doesn't recognize Vash as an individual with a will of his own, or inasmuch as he does, he doesn't respect that will. All that's happened now is Knives has realized cowering in his own fear and following his plan for Ultimate Alone-ness(TM) is going to leave him without his brother, too. And he's decided he'd rather accept that than fail.

Ok, I love Knives' design here. It's like this terrible twist on angel presentation, with his wings looking more like teeth and jaws than wings, and with his face covered not by feathery appendages but by weird otherworldly tendrils.

Mmm, Knives looks like he thinks he got him, but I have my doubts. I don't really know what happened in the last few pages, but still.

LOLOLOL Knives was so busy being insulted by the "rudimentary" weapon Vash wields he didn't even consider that Vash might survive. Also, I bet he doesn't want to see Vash's corpse because then he might have regrets.

Knives is about to wax philosophical and Vash is like, "I ain't got time for your bullshit, bro. Get down here and fight me like a man!"

Chapter 5: +-0

Ohhhh, man. Listening to the Attack on Titan soundtrack while reading this was a mistake. As if I needed MORE feels.

Awww, teen Vash....

Wait, they chained him to a bomb?? Guys! He's just a baby Vash! He's a nice boy! Why'd you do this???

"Most of the time you don't know the person you're dealing with, but knowing their situation can change how you perceive their actions. The world keeps on turning, whether you understand them or not." Truth.

Eighty years?? EIGHTY, and they still look so young??? Also, that's a really long time to spend with someone while keeping them at a distance. It actually sounds like Vash wanted to leave but couldn't quite bring himself to, and so "arm's length" was the best compromise he could come up with. Not because he wanted to be closer and knew he shouldn't, but because he wanted to be further away and didn't know how.

And then... one day, he did.

Domina still doesn't look so good.

Mmm, so in all her battles, Chronica's never failed quite like this. One of the few spoilers I had around her was that she hates Knives, and at this point I think I can see why.

Knives always takes insult at Vash pointing a gun at him. He doesn't fear it. Only his '98 version registers it as a true threat. The rest of the time, it's just an insult. An insult that his brother would have become so distant from him to dare. An insult that his brother, a higher being, would use a rudimentary human weapon in what should be a struggle between gods. But... something something Christian imagery something Vash as a Jesus-like figure something something both Man and God and bridging the gap between the two.

Yeah, unlike you, Knives, Vash sees you as person and is absolutely not keen on taking away your right to life and all that comes with it.

Stampede just ate all this up, didn't they?

Look at that unsteady hand. Surely Knives came here to rescue him. Probably killed all the humans as he did it. Where did Vash get the gun?

Oh, shit. Knives didn't just kill up the guys who were executing Vash. He killed ALL of them.

Yeah, Knives isn't gonna get it.

Ah, tilting his head back like that. Resigning himself to a bloody victory, and allowing himself to revel in it even if Vash doesn't seem to get it.

Oh, man. He shot Knives!

Aaaand that's how Vash lost his arm.

Then what? Knives just left him there to bleed out in the desert while attached to a bomb? This seems questionable for Vash's continued survival.

Vash, NO. Don't kill yourself taking out your brother! This is NOT a reasonable option! There are soooo many people in the world still who care about you!

Also, shout-out to Knives' buggy dragon wings.

I like how in this spread Vash looks like Vash and Knives is... like... a disembodied blob.

Knives wants an all-out fight. Vash just wants victory.

Oh, Vash, honey.... You really should meet your cousin Chronica before you make claims like that. I'm sure she'd have some thoughts. Good thoughts.

Chapter 6: Resonance

Oooh, does this mean we're gonna get more Plant participation here?

Oh, man. I have a LOT of thoughts on resonance that I'm not going to write up tonight. I have to get up at the ass-crack of dawn and want to at least try to sleep at some point.

Knives has absorbed a TON of plants, and yet Vash, with his power and ingenuity, is matching him without having absorbed any.

Rude, Knives. Don't call your brother kii-sama.

Wait, Vash is stopping Knives from getting destroyed by his mini black holes? What's his plan here? Sap away Knives' power until Knives is no stronger than a human?

Oh, Smart Knives is smart. He, too, knows something's off.

I don't think Vash is here to give a lecture to you, Knives. Maybe... more of a practical demonstration, but not a lecture.

Ahhhh! Vash and the humans are trying to do the opposite of what Knives was doing! They're gonna ask! They're respecting the Plants' wills!

Oh, good. We get to see that teen Vash was rescued. Looks like he managed to shoot through the chain, too. I wasn't entirely sure.

If they were trying to spare everyone from radiation sickness, why did they chain Vash up?? Was he just too stubborn about leaving? That sounds like something he'd do.

Yeah, it would be hard to be the sole survivor twice, to know that people loved you and still had to turn their backs on you to keep you safe.

Knives, you are so smart and yet so stupid. You're like everyone else who's ever realized they're smarter than average and then jumped from there to being convinced that, because of their intelligence, they're also always right. That they understand people's hearts as well as they understands facts and logistics.

Yes, this! I just needed to wait a page for Vash to say it!

Ok, so... I've seen a lot of people talk about how pre-Vol. 10 Vash (or, really, pre-Vol. 8 Vash) is just like them fr fr with his slightly hidden depression and constant underlying suicidal tendencies and a bitterness he hides behind fake smiles. Personally, I find more resonance (heh) with post-Vol. 10 Vash, who is openly angry at certain things and has a far more clear view of his goal. I still think he runs more suicidal and/or depressed than I do, but it's not as far a jump from being suicidal to being willing to fight for a cause even if it costs your life as some might think.

Ugh, that's the stupid-ass military, isn't it. Just when it looks like the humans are getting through to the Plants, too.

I wonder if that's Brad there doing the obscuring thing. Kinda doesn't matter. It will be enough to encourage Vash, even if it's not enough to dissuade the military.

LOL, THE CAVALRY HAS ARRIVED!!!

Oh, dear, sweet Meryl. I think he knows.

It was Brad! Huzzah! Good on you, kid!

See? They just hardened his resolve.

Oof, Domina's a mess. I guess it's up to the dependent Plants now. The rest are giving up on her, even though they don't want to. Their situation is desperate and they need to know more. It's like... a very soft Knives and Vash parallel.

Archive

Trigun Vol. 1: Covers + 1-3, 4, 5-6, 7-8, 9-10 || Vol. 2: Covers + Extras, 1, 2-4, 5-6, 7-8

TriMax Vol. 1: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5-6 || Vol. 2: Covers + 1, 2-4, 5, 6-7 || Vol. 3: Covers + 1-3, 4-5, 6-7 || Vol. 4: Covers + 1-2, 3-5, 6-7 || Vol. 5: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5-6 || Vol. 6: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5-6 || Vol. 7: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5-6 || Vol. 8: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5 + Bonus || Vol. 9: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5-6 || Vol. 10: Covers + 1-3, 4-5, 6-8 || Vol. 11: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5-6 || Vol. 12: Covers + 1-3

Extra Credit: Trigun Vol. 1: Nebraska vs. Vash's Motivations, Vash's Loneliness, Vash's Depression (pt. 2 of post), Soupy Brains || Vol. 2: Coin Factoids || TriMax Vol. 1: Lina, Vash, and a Haircut || Meryl, Vash, and the Pursuit of Happiness || Vol. 5: Knives, Vash, and Hatred for Humanity || Vol. 6: Coping Series: Wolfwood, Meryl, Vash || Vol. 8: The Uncoordinated Counterattack || Vol. 9: Justice, Punishment, and Mercy, The Tolling of an Iron Bell || Vol. 10: Crucifixion Symbology (pt. 2 of post), Merging of Families, Being Childlike (And Why God Hates Chapel) || Vol. 11: New Hair, New Outlook

[kyndaris]

Ain't No Mountain High Enough

Our first proper day in Seoul had us running through the city using my highly advanced map-reading skills because Google Maps could not show even simple routes in and around the city except via public transport. This was due to the censorship laws of South Korea preventing the storage of map data on foreign server devices. As a consequence, Google cannot legally provide any real time navigation. Or so Google and Reddit tell me. Instead, locals rely on Naver and Kakao, but which do not always have English translations and thus tourists such as bleachpanda and myself are left fending for ourselves.

Still, after enjoying a ham and cheese 'Dagel' for breakfast at a local cafe, bleachpanda and I set out to Namsam Seoul Tower (or N Seoul Tower for short). Along the way, we stopped at the Namdaemun Market. There, we inspected the stalls to see what was on offer. Although we were both tempted to purchase souvenirs at this very first stop on our journey, we both resisted the urge.

We had, after all, not even properly seen the city!

Instead, bleachpanda and I purchased some egg tarts and a warm drink to drive away the wintry chill. While bleachpanda guzzled down her mocha, I was left disappointed by my 'choco latte,' which turned out to essentially be chocolate milk.

From Namdaemun Markets, we hiked towards Namsan Mountain, visiting a local 7-Eleven along the way to see if they shared any similarities to their counterparts in Japan or Australia (spoiler alert: they shared much more with their Asian cousins in Taiwan and Japan than those found out in the West).

Once at the start of the hiking trail up to Namsan, bleachpanda blanched at the prospect of climbing up to the tower. But with some gentle coaxing from me, she acquiesced. And so, we clambered up the mountain.

Bleachpanda, being the less fit of the two of us, required numerous stops to catch her breath. But these rests were also opportunities for us to take pictures of the scenery - capturing the early moments of spring peaking through as the snow began to melt.

By the way, did I mention there were love locks all around N Seoul Tower? Because that was a thing. As well as at the base of the mountain having a statue dedicated to the Comfort Women from the Second World War.

Still, it was aggravating to wait for her but it was the cross I had to bear as her travelling companion. Especially as we were nearing the tower and she vanished for nigh on eighty-four years because she ducked into a store to buy a fridge magnet.

At the tower, I purchased our entry tickets up and away we soared to the observation deck with a group of American tourists. Once at the observation deck, the entirety of Seoul was spread out before us. I used this chance to take copious amounts of pictures from this bird's eye view of the city:

Bleachpanda and I even bought a few souvenirs, including postcards. While I sent mine to a good friend (here known as redoubt on the internet), as he has a penchant of posting postcards to me when travelling overseas, bleachpanda sent one to her sister and another to her future self.

Once we had drunk our fill at the tower, we took the cable car back down to civilisation (bleachpanda's request) before heading to Deoksugung Palace. As I navigated our party towards our destination we refuelled at a Dunkin' Donuts before continuing onward.

Unfortunately, once we arrived at Deoksugung Palace, it was closed (this was due to the fact this palace is closed on Mondays. Why? I'm not sure. We would revisit it later). Disappointed, bleachpanda and I trekked instead to Gyeongbokgung Palace where we managed to catch a changing of the royal guard. During the performance, an explanation was provided regarding the process and of the outfits worn by the performers, which were based on 15th century Joseon dynasty clothing.

Fun fact, Gyeongbokgung was the main royal palace of the Joseon palace and was built in 1395. Additionally, everywhere we looked, there were people dressed in hanboks because they allowed free entry!

Alas, bleachpanda and I were dressed in our thick entry gear. And so, we had to buy tickets to visit Gyeongbokgung Palace. I also grabbed an audio gudie to provide some commentary of the historic site we were visiting, although I had to trade in my driver licence.

As we made our way through the Palace, I learned how the Palace served as the heart of the Joseon dynasty before it was razed to the ground when Japan invaded Korea back in 1592. This was later rebuilt in 1867. Within were several precincts and the living quarters for concubines and the royal family. Of interest to me was how there were separate palaces for the King and the Queen.

I also learned how during the Japanese occupation in the early 20th century, Gyeongbokgung was used for their own headquarters, with the Government-General Building being built after the Palace was levelled. After the conclusion of the Second World War, however, much of Gyeongbokgung has been restored.

After we had wandered through to all the major sites, bleachpanda and I exited out near the National Folk Museum of Korea. Eager to have my driver licence returned, we headed back to the entrance and exchanged the audio guide for my Australian identity document.

From the palace, we then headed to Bukchon Hanok village and finally nabbed a late lunch of pork cutlet - elsewise I might have keeled over. After we were both full, we took a gander around Bukchon, stopping by Bukchon Yukgyeong to snap an iconic view of the city of the buildings there and the city of Seoul splayed out before us.

Once we had snagged the picture, bleachpanda and I headed back to our hotel after a long day out in the city of Seoul. We stopped briefly at Jogyesa Buddhist temple before purchasing a few souvenirs and snacks.

So ended our first proper day in Seoul! Join me for the next few weeks as I regale you, dear reader, of our further adventures! For tomorrow is when we head into the DMZ (the last letter pronounced as Zed for all you Americans out there).

Looking back on our journey though, I'm a little sad I couldn't snag myself a hot CEO boyfriend after he hit me with his car. Still, there's always next time!

[flintstill]

If there’s not some fic with Sally imma be mad

That little bantery barb about “c’mon your slowing us down” “Me????!?!” 😅

The celebratory playful shoulder punch 🤜 AND THE RETURN 🤛

[whenthegoldrays]

Okay, review time for Around the World in 80 Days (2004)!

I actually really liked the setup and concept of this adaptation. Making Phileas an inventor, though being just the sort of change I'd expect from a Disney adaptation (minor eye roll), actually plays out quite nicely, taking him the logical extra step beyond an educated gentleman who knows about science, to being an actual scientist.

I admit the trailer misled me about how the wager came to be, and Passepartout starting a gossip chain and inspiring the wager in order to get out of England quickly was unexpectedly hilarious.

So our two heroes set off, landing first in Paris, France. My hopes are high, and so far I'm thinking this movie could end up being a solid 7.5/10.

And then I realize I spoke too soon.

Things quickly get annoyingly wacky. First Phileas meets the lady who will become his love interest — an aspiring French artiste (RIP Aouda).

After some action involving the Chinese gang trying to steal back what Passepartout stole (back) from the Bank of England, the trio set off in a hot air balloon and soon find themselves on a train that, after a time skip (and an admittedly hilarious scene involving Phileas and Mademoiselle Monique's — gasp! — uncovered ankles), stops in Istanbul.

And then, we are thrown into one of the most uncomfortable scenes I have ever been subjected to, featuring Arnold Schwarzenegger (?!) and the traveling trio in a hot tub (?!?!)

Prince Schwarzenegger wants Monique as his seventh wife, Phileas saves her by threatening the prince's precious statue of himself, and they run. Time skip number two has us in India, and guess what? Inspector Fix is here too!

(Side note: the men discussing the robbery and deciding to send an arrest warrant for Fogg to India and one of the stuffed shirts going, "Thank God we own India!" is legitimately one of the funniest things I have ever seen. Thank you for your Very Subtle introduction to British colonialism, Disney.)

Fix is actually, legitimately, the most sad, broken husk of a man I have ever seen in my life. You could knock him over with a feather. How did this man get to be a police inspector in the first place? Your guess is as good as mine. But in this adaptation, he's a corrupt officer bought by the men of the Academy of Science to stop Fogg's journey. He actually somehow manages to get one (1) handcuff on Passepartout, only to promptly be used as his weapon to fight off the gang that's pursuing them.

Long Annoying Action Sequence, Phileas and Monique nearly kiss, and we're off once again!

We are now in China, in Passepartout's village (where we learn his real name is Lau Xing). Fogg, feeling rightfully betrayed when he finds out that Monique and Passepartout have been keeping the bank robbery secret from him and thereby putting his life in danger unnecessarily, storms off and decides to continue the journey on his own.

[insert Even Longer Annoying But Kind Of Plot-Relevant-This-Time (Though Not Enough To Make Me Want To Write About It) Action Sequence here]

Uhh... *checks notes* oh yes, Passepartout/Lau Xing accomplishes his mission of returning the sacred relic to his village, and then Fogg leaves China alone.

(Wow, one way or another, every adaptation has had Passepartout accidentally causing trouble for and then getting separated from Fogg between China and San Francisco!)

In San Francisco, Phileas has 19 days left to finish his journey. He's basically got the wager won — and then all his money gets stolen because he is A Literal Fool.

Passepartout and Monique catch up to him three days later, finding him failing spectacularly at being a beggar. Emotional Reunion, etc etc, and they cross America, meeting the Wright Brothers along the way (an actually really funny and good scene, featuring Owen Wilson!!)

And then it's time for Final Annoying And Probably Even Longer Action Sequence! This time featuring an unfinished Lady Liberty! Also featuring Scary But Cool Chinese Warlord Lady.

Maybe it's just because I already don't like long fight sequences, but these felt especially dragged out as they were so largely silly and exaggerated. I suppose it's a Disney movie, after all, but still. Not a fan of that.

And then, Phileas, Monique, and Passepartout board the ship Carmen (would it have killed them to call it Henrietta?) and, once the captain decides to go full speed ahead for the sake of Fogg's wager (which he's also bet some dollars on) and finishes up the coal, they resort to the classic practice of dismantling the ship and using the wood, but not to burn it for fuel! Instead they build a flying machine, the design of which Fogg somehow still remembers after briefly looking at Orville Wright's blueprints several days ago. (Also, there's a really weird... thing that I wouldn't call a joke involving the captain and an encounter with a shark that made me very uncomfortable once again.)

They fly into London (never mind that they would've had to go through Liverpool first), crash on the steps of the Science Academy, and the clock strikes twelve noon, indicating that they've lost the wager.

But then, in another painful reminder that this is a DISNEY MOVIE (!!), Phileas's rival, Lord Kelvin, starts ridiculously monologuing about how he sent assassins and other saboteurs after Fogg, and after a little girl states that the Queen will stop his evil plot, he begins to mock the Queen in the most cartoonish way possible, only to come to find that (of course) she's standing right behind him.

Kelvin is arrested, the Queen explains the International Date Line loophole, and Phileas and his companions rush up the stairs of the Royal Academy, winning the bet with over 23 hours to spare. He and Monique kiss, everyone cheers, and that's ✨the end✨

Honestly, this had the makings of a great campy adaptation and was incredibly funny at the beginning and other moments scattered throughout. The jade Buddha plot is actually compelling and General Fang is a cool villain that's on par with what I'd expect from Disney (in a good way this time). Unfortunately, this movie suffers a lot in translation. Fogg's romance with Monique is just... there? It feels incredibly rushed, with the actors not even having that much chemistry.

Speaking of rushed, I suppose we all knew that things had to be sped along to fit such a long narrative into a two-hour movie, but adding all those long action set pieces drained away a lot of the time that could've been spent building an actual bond between Phileas and Monique, or including anything found in the original book at all (RIP Inspector Fix, we hardly knew ye).

Also, Fogg is not very likable. I don't know what it is about him that just rubs me the wrong way. I think I'm officially placing him as my least favorite Phileas Fogg of all the ones I've watched.

And while, like I said, about half of the jokes and comedic moments land pretty well, the other half is just plain cringy and sometimes even painful to witness. At least those moments aren't dragged on for very long.

And what else to say about this film? I suppose it could be enjoyable enough if you're not familiar with the source material or show up with no particular expectations. But even then, one would more than likely notice the insane pace and lack of chemistry between the romantic leads. Jackie Chan is good though.

Despite a valiant effort, this movie lands, as expected, at the bottom of my ATWIED adaptation ranking, with a 5/10 rating.

Time to cleanse my palate with the David Niven version.

[sawtastic-sideblog]

I am so sorry to anon. I meant to save what I posted as a draft and it posted while I was taking a test. Anyway here's the finished one!

Contains spoilers for Downton Abbey season 3 and Adam is a LotR fan in this I jsut forgot to write it in.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Adam climbs, ready to see his beloved children. The last few days have been rough for him. He's had to follow a doctor that has been cheating on his wife. It's emotionally draining.

He fumbles the his keys and drops them to the floor with a loud clang! Adam curses under his breath as he bends to pick up his keys. He hears a door open to his right, revealing a short plump woman with green eyes that shimmer in the dim hallway lighting.

"Oh, Adam! I thought that was you! How are you, darlin'?"

"I'm good, Mrs. Ortega. How are you? And Mr. Ortega?"

"We're both good. We wanted to invite you over for dinner next weekend. My family is flying in, his family is driving up, and we're gonna have some friends over too."

"Oh, um, thank you, Ms. Ortega, but I don't know. I'm not big on crowds and in small spaces. Not really my scene."

"How 'bout I bring you a plate? My family is bringing the southern cuisine and Miguel's family is bringing the authentic Mexican cuisine. Abuelita is making tamales. My mama's making her chicken and dumplins and I'm making my blueberry pie you like so much."

"That sounds greats, Mrs. O. Thanks."

"It's not a problem dear. Oh and I think my daddy is bringing you some old camera equipment his daddy gave to him. He said somethin' about one of th first cameras ever made being passed through the generations. He likes you, son."

"Oh, wow, I couldn't accept that."

"You will. Daddy is very convincing. Especially in his old age."

"Eighty one isn't that old."

Mrs. Ortega laughs and turns to walk back into her apartment. Adam jams his key into the lock as his neighbor calls out to him.

"Give some love to Merry and Pippin for me?"

"Of course, I will. Goodnight, Mrs. Ortega."

"Goodnight, Adam."

Adam walks into his apartment and throws his keys in the bowl of the table by the door. He sets his bag down on the table as he toes off his shoes. He scans the open area of his apartment in the light from the standing lamp by the wall.

"Mer? Pip? Where are you?"

He makes his way into the kitchen and grabs a can and a bag of cat food. He turns around to pick up two ceramic food bowls. One blue with 'Merry' etched into it with white paint making the letters pop and the other is a matching green one with 'Pippin etched into the side. Birthday gifts from Mrs. Ortega. She always treats Adam, Merry, and Pippin like her own kids. The Ortegas never had children of their own but have nieces and nephews who come to visit sometimes. Mia, the thirteen year old daughter of Mrs. Ortega's sister, has taken an interest in photography. Everytime she visits, Adam gets a knock on his door. He's more than happy to talk with Mia, go on walks with her, her brothers, aunt, and uncle to take pictures of the world around them, and show her how to develop pictures in his home red room.

Adam turns back around to see a figure sniffing at the bag of food. A pair or yellow eyes look up at him expectantly. Adam smiles warmly.

"Hi, honey," he says as he walks to the counter and sets the bowls down. He holds his finger up and moves it towards a small pink nose. "Boop."

A small 'mrrrhp' is the response Adam gets before the cat headbutts Adam's hand, demanding to have attention. He happily obliges and scratches the cat's head.

"Hello, my little Merry-baby," Adam coos. Merry rubs against Adam's chest as he opens the can of food and halves it into the bowls. He adds some dry food with it. His cats will eat anything and, somehow, Mrs. Ortega has a lot of cat food and brings it to him. He doesn't complain. Free food for the cats.

Merry, the cat currently sitting on the counter watching as Adam walks towards the mat again, is an orange short-haired tabby. She has yellow eyes that are always full of mischief. She is two years old and is so full of energy. She loves to cuddle and always finds her a seat somewhere on or near Adam. She was sitting outside of the hospital one day as Adam was leaving. In his very drowsy, tired, and sick mind he decided to try to catch her and ran out into the middle of the road. He was almost hit by a bus, but a tall, blonde man pulled him out of the way. When Adam went to protest the man shut him down, grabbed the cat, shoved it into his arms, and told him to go home. Adam went back to the hospital for a dislocated shoulder a few months later and met the man again. A doctor by the name of Lawrence Gordon. Adam was smitten by him and asked for his number while under th influence of painkillers. Dr. Gordon laughed and asked about the cat.

Pippin, who is currently no where to be seen, is a short-haired tuxedo cat. He's nine years old and likes to lay around in the sun all day. He's still spry in his old age and is often found perched at the top of the cat tower. Yet, another gift from the Ortegas that was made by Mr. Ortega himself. He's been with Adam for a long time, since he was six months old. Adam found him in the dumpster behind a bar. He was trying to hook up with some girl who was so drunk she couldn't keep the contents of her stomach inside. Adam heard a small sound coming from the dumpster and peeked inside. He saw a plastic bag moving around. Curious and slightly drunk, Adam reaches for it. When he opensnit he finds a very small and malnourished cat. His yellow eyes wide in fear. Adam looks back at the woman and decides to call her a cab. He waits with her when her friends come out and gush over the kitten and thank him for the cab. Adam gets home and looks up how to take care of a kitten. He was terrified because he could hardly take care of himself.

"Food time, babies," Adam calls. Merry leaps off the counter and walks over to her bowl. The sound of old joints popping and the shaking of the cat tree from the cat atop of it stretching. Adam walks over to the wooden tower covered in soft fabric and puts a hand out. The old cat bumps Adam's hand with his head. Adam scoops him up and cradles him in his arms. He walks towards the untouched bowl of food as he peppers kisses all over Pippin's head. He gently places the old cat by his bowl and walk to his bedroom to change into his pajamas. His phone vibrates in his hand as he walks toward the living room.

"Hey, babe," Adam greets his friend.

"Adam, I've told you not to call me that."

"Aw, come on, Larry, everyone deserves to be called 'babe' every once in a while."

"Yes and I have a wife who calls me that," Lawrence counters. Despite the annoyance in his voice, Adam can hear a smile.

"Whaddya want, Larry? I gotta fix food and cuddle cats."

"Alison wanted to see if you wanted to go out for dinner tomorrow night."

"How about you guys come over. Diana loves the cats and the Ortega's are having a dinner party next week, so I was thinking about having them over for dinner before then. I won't feel bad if they bring me a plate after that," Adam jokes. He hears Lawrence chuckle before he continues. "I also have this recipe Zep from work sent me. Looks pretty good. And it comes from Zep. He's an amazing cook."

"I have to agree with you. Let me run it Alison."

"Let me talk to her. I'm very persuasive."

"Okay, hold on. I have to go find her," Lawrence laughs.

"Hey, babe," Alison's voice rings down the line. Pippin hops onto the couch and bumbles his way over to Adam, sitting beside him with paws on his thigh. Adam's hand immediately goes to Pippin's head and scratched behind his ear. The cat purrs in appreciation.

"Hi, Ali. Adam is on the phone to talk about dinner plans. You're on speaker, Adam."

"Hi, Adam."

"Hey, Alison. Lawrence said you wanted to have dinner together tomorrow night. I was thinking you guys could come over and, hi, Merry, I'll have the Ortegas over. Zep gave me a new recipe," Adam explains and greets his cat by petting her head.

"Sounds great. Six work for you?"

"Perfect. I'll let Mrs. O know."

"Need us to bring anything?"

"Just your dazzling smile and Larry's charming personality. Oh, and Diana. Can't forget her."

"They won't forget me!" A small voice yells indignantly. Adam laughs and grabs the remote from the coffee table. He reclines back and props his feet on the table. Merry walks down Adam's legs to the coffee table and just sits staring out at nothing on the other side of the room. Adam's hand finds Pippin's side and pats.

"Did your hear anything, dear?" Lawrence asks, amusement dripping off his words.

"No, did you?"

"Nope," Lawrence says.

"Adam! Tell mommy and daddy that I'm right here!"

"I think there's an intruder in your house, Larry."

"Me too. I'll go take a look."

"He's on the hunt," Alison says. Adam hears the grin in her voice and can imagine Lawrence stalking around the kitchen and living room of his house. He hears high pitched squeals and laughter coming from his phone. His eyes scan the rows of television shows and movies on his screen. He chooses his guilty pleasure show. 'Downton Abbey' has been his thing for years. He, Alison, Diana, and Mrs. Ortega often have watch parties. When he has a bad day, likes to cuddle up under a pile of blankets, eat his weight in pizza, and cuddle the cats. "Do you have food, Adam?"

"Yeah, I ordered pizza."

"Good. Just making sure you're eating. Lawrence told me about your bad day."

"Yeah, it has sucked, but I have my kittens to cheer me up."

"Have a better night."

"Thanks, Al. I appreciate you. and Larry. And the rugrat." "Goodnight, Adam. We love you." "Bye, Adam!" "Bye, Addy!"

Lawrence and Diana both shout at the same time. The corners of Adam's lips curl up at the use of his nickname Diana gave him. He bids them goodnight and hangs up. The doorbell rings and he stands up, much to Pippin's displeasure. Adam brings the pizza over to the coffee table and turns on the show. Hours later, Adam is still watching the show. Tears stream down his face as Tom Branson clings to Sybil.

"Please, don't leave me, Love," Tom begs.

"Don't leave him, Sybil," Adam whispers as he wipes tears away. Merry stretches from her spot in Adam's arms, her head in the crook of his neck and his arm cradling her like a baby. His other hand returns to Pippin's back. Pippin is laying in a loaf on Adam's thigh. He is facing the television, staring in the direction of it, almost like he is watching as Sybil's life fades and, once again, the Crawley family is thrown into the arms of grief.

"Fuck," Adam sobs, burying his face into Merry's side. Merry's paws finds Adam's head as she starts to chew on Adam's hair. She twists and turns and hops from Adam's arm onto the arm of the couch. He picks up Pippin and pulls his feet out form under him and onto the floor. The episode ends and Adam turns off the television.

"I think it's time for bed, kitterinos," Adam says as he stands and stretches. He wipes at his face as he goes though and turns off all the lights. He goes to brush his teeth, cats following him all the way. The orange rubs her face against his ankles.

"Meow," Pippin calls from the bedroom door.

"Ahh," Adam says back. Pippin responds with another meow and Adam responds with another lowercase scream. They go on like this until Adam goes into the bedroom.

Once in bed, Merry finds her way to the second pillow on the bed and curls up facing Adam. Pippin finds his rightful place on Adam's chest as Adam scrolls on Youtube to find a video to listen to as he goes to sleep. "Goodnight, my sweet boy. Goodnight, my sweet girlie. My pretty kitties."

He closes his eyes and runs his hands over Pippin's back. The old cat purrs and does the little paw thing that cats do over Adam's ribs. Merry presses her head against Adam's head. He smiles and reaches his free hand up to pet her. She spins in a circle and lays with her face on Adam's shoulder, one paw tucked under her and the other on Adam's shoulder. Adam angles his head towards Merry's back and lays his face on her hip.

He feels so loved by these two small creatures. They put all their trust in him and he puts his own happiness with them. The three of them are a family. They all love and trust each other. This is the most love Adam has felt in his life. He can say that these two make his life complete and he doesn't know what he'd do without them.

Adam is lulled to sleep by the sound of both of the cats purring and Shayne Topp's voice reading Reddit stories.

[iviarellereads]

Full TLT series to date thoughts on rereading Harrow the Ninth, chapters 1-5

A probably semi-regular weekly bonus to my reread blog, since sometimes you realize things on reread that just make you need to yell in a full spoiler space.

I love seeing all the ways Harrow's haunting affects her when she can't remember why. The sword, Wake's spirit, literally burning her. The Body, in all her loving glory, who she can remember… mostly, but not entirely why. My poor trauma baby sitting in the bed she made.

The moment where Harrow, or perhaps Gideon, thinks that John can see "the Body" but it's a trick of the eye still gets me though. What would John give to see Alecto? What would he do if he did? Well, I suppose say "good morning" given the end of Nona, but you know what I mean. It's only a matter of time until we find out at least.

And, of course, Alecto appearing with a sword. She understood, on some level, what she made herself for him. A cavalier. She loves him still. I think nobody can be all bad if Alecto loves them. (Which is why Nona's reaction to Ianthe delights me so.)

I don't think we got any confirmation that those five hundred or so people had made it to the Ninth ahead of Nona's finale, did we? Never thought about that discrepancy before, and definitely didn't notice it the only time I read Nona on release day.

I know a LOT of people in the fandom really hate John, think he's an irredeemable villain. And, I can't fault any of the reasons why they jump to that conclusion. Just look at his manipulation of Harrow in chapter 2, the self-effacing, "Nooo, don't kneel to me, if you knew the whole truth you'd probably hit me instead." Still… I want to believe this is going somewhere better than that.

"Number Six had better be dead, because Cyrus won't be coming back." Did the ultramassive black hole keep Cyrus's soul, in such a way that John couldn't retrieve it?

Alecto the spirit's voice, with the "uncanny echo" of other voices… I see so much of the setup for Nona this time around.

I'm still inordinately proud that I figured out the lobotomy and Gideon this early. I don't want to lead anyone too hard if I have first time readers in the posts… but it's COMPLETELY fair to start to make guesses when John stumbles over Harrow saying Ortus instead of Gideon. As soon as G1deon showed up I knew, not the entirety of Dios Apate Major obviously, but I definitely knew that "ORTUS" was who Gideon's mother was yelling at/for.

I'm sure the POV use in Harrow is significant at all times, but chapter 3 puts a wrench in all my theories about how and why. It's third-person, but not in the River-bubble, which is the only other time third-person is used in Harrow. I can't explain WHY this bothers me in the post or even draw too much attention to it but it does, in fact, bother me greatly now that I've noticed it.

I'm still mad in the fun way that Muir threw us such a red herring in "She was the eighty-seventh Nona of her House". The nerve! The cheek! Never stop! <3

The lengths to which Harrow went to avoid killing Gideon, to avoid a world without her in it. Every dang time, y'all. Gets me right in the feels. I am, however, rather annoyed at Gideon for seeing the letter, maybe seeing everything, and still believing Harrow wanted to be rid of her rather than that she couldn't bear to live without her. Oh, kids.

[actualhumanyes]

I posted 1,682 times in 2022

That's 1,378 more posts than 2021!

54 posts created (3%)

1,628 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@corvuscoronecornix

@a-small-batch-of-dragons

@tooaceforthisspace

@the-dragon-invasion-is-near

@svenskjavel

I tagged 198 of my posts in 2022

#kaos i alvik - 14 posts

#skeleton war - 11 posts

#wizards - 9 posts

#pride - 8 posts

#lgbt - 7 posts

#lgbtqia+ - 6 posts

#art - 6 posts

#bird art - 6 posts

#lgbtq - 6 posts

#anyways - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 128 characters

#i should bot be allowed internet communication anymore this is so incomprehensible and weird and i just want to go back to sleep

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

has anyone seen around the world in eighty days with david tennant? it’s so good i think i might cry a bit please everybody go watch it

also no spoilers i’m not done yet

13 notes - Posted May 25, 2022

#4

why is hayloft the nonbinary theme song? dont get me wrong, the song slaps, but im just so hay-lost

16 notes - Posted January 28, 2022

#3

[id: An image taken from the Mazm Jekyll and Hyde game showing two characters in a dimly lit room. The dialogue bar reads ”I can swear with my hand on the bible.” Another text box beneath it, this one from snapchat, comments ”Good for you”. End id]

damn past me, no need to be so salty???

59 notes - Posted June 20, 2022

#2

dr henry jekyll creating an entirely new identity just to be gay and do crime

thats some quality 19th century writing right there

87 notes - Posted April 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

yes im aroace and swedish and worried what about it

177 notes - Posted April 18, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #580

Top Ten Iron Man Suit-Up Moments in the MCU

Ah, back to the MCU; along with stuff to do with Transformers, this is absolutely my Top Ten comfort zone (memo to self: “Top Ten Comfort Zones”). And where would the MCU be without Iron Man? The lodestone of the entirely seventy-film, eighty-year saga (or something like that). Robert Downey Jr’s portrayal of Tony Stark really did set the tone for the entire endeavour though; he was the backbone of the franchise for about a decade, and provided it with some of its best and most iconic moments, right up until his heroic death in Endgame (spoiler alert).

Whilst a lot of what made Downey’s Stark so great was his delivery – his louche demeanour, his charming arrogance, his way with a nifty nickname (“Legolas”, “Manchurian Candidate”, “Lebowski”), so much of it also derived from how well various filmmakers displayed his signature superhero hook – that is to say, the Iron Man armour itself. Right from the off, Jon Favreau rooted the visual style of the first Iron Man in an attempt at something approaching down-to-Earth realism; from the gritty Middle East-set opening, with its War on Terror-evoking palette and action, through to the street-level action and boardroom shenanigans, it felt a world away from Tim Burton Gothic Gotham City or the hyper-colourful New York of Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man films, and a lot closer to what Christopher Nolan was attempting at the same time over in his Dark Knight trilogy. And this extended to the portrayal of the suits; all whirring cogs and shifting pistons. Whilst we know arc reactors and repulsors and the things of fantasy, the armour itself still felt like something that could just about exist in the real world. I remember back in 2008 thinking the most out-there aspect of the whole film was the idea that Stark could have designed a sentient AI in the present day.

As the films ploughed on, barrelling into the wider MCU with aplomb, the scale, scope, and tone shifted somewhat. As soon as giant green rage monsters, space Vikings, and wizards became part of the MCU, Tony’s humble suits ran the risk of looking quaint. As such, new films explored new ways of dressing up Our Tone, giving him snazzier duds that he was able to pull on in new and exciting ways. And that’s what this list celebrates; not the various Iron Man armours themselves, but the really cool ways Tony gets dressed into them in different films. Because – again, right from the very start – one of the showpiece spectacle moments of most Iron Man appearances has been seeing him suit up for the first time in each movie, revelling in the way the armour wraps itself around Downey’s frame. It also helps to showcase the different styles and improvements he’s made over the years. And that’s what I’m ranking here. Just below.

One caveat: I’ve called this a “suit-up” list, but there are a couple of outliers here. Some are when he’s removing his suit; I think it still counts, because it’s seeing the different ways it goes on or comes off that I like (er, that sounds dodgy). And there’s at least one that’s technically not really a suit at all, but it’s something Iron Man-y that Iron Man wears, so I’m including it. What can I say? I love it three thousand.

The Briefcase Suit (Iron Man 2, 2010): after the first film had established the concept of Tony Sark putting on his shiny metal pyjamas, the second one naturally had to twist it and show it off in a new and exciting way. As an inventor, it helped to also show Stark’s ingenuity; as a comic adaptation, it would be cool to call back to something from the source. Hence the transportable suit-in-a-can, a briefcase that contains a lightweight easy-on version of the armour. It’s cool on a number of levels but for me the best bit is the way it goes on, unfolding accordion-like, pulled in two separate directions to activate the armour. It looks great, and this whole sequence is by a mile the best thing in the film.

One-Button Suit-Up (Captain America: Civil War, 2016): taking the ingenuity to heretofore unmatched heights is the suiting-up process in Stark’s private jet. Up till now the film has deliberately shied away from Iron Man, instead giving us Stark the negotiator, the politician. Now, finally, he suits up, pressing just one button on his chair, only for the mechanisms to spring forth and wrap around his finger, as he’s pulled backwards into the plane as parts of his armour are built up automatically around him. It’s an almost organic process and while it makes little practical sense it does look great.

Automatic Suit Removal (The Avengers, 2012): here we do have, to be honest, a suit-off process. Landing on the balcony-slash-runway of his sumptuous tower (full-tilt diva), a series of circular tracks rotate around him as mechanical arms grab and remove all the parts of his armour. It’s a streamlined version of the robot arms we’ve seen in the prior Iron Man movies, and the fact it takes place along walkway gives it an almost assembly-line feeling. The icing on the cake, though, is how nonchalant Stark is, never breaking his stride or slowing down as the machines do all the work.

Mark 42 (Iron Man 3, 2013): Stark’s travails with his new armour in this movie are a recurring gag. The new suit is – a bit like the robo-arms from earlier films – given a good deal of personality and there’s a lot of humour as the individual components rocket around and bounce off things as they try to find their mark on Stark. It’s a great, fun sequence that again shows off Stark’s inventiveness; and it’s paid off again and again, especially when he calls upon the armour to rescue him doesn’t go quite as well as he’d hoped. I also want to shout out the homemade jerry-rigged “suit” he builds out of the contents of a local B&Q, but as we don’t really have a “suit-up” moment for that I didn’t include it in the list.

The Nano Suit (Avengers: Infinity War, 2018): after praising the more down-to-Earth nature of some of the suits, here we go with something so outlandishly futuristic it borders on magical. It was fairly obvious Downey was leaving the franchise because really, where do you go from here? A nanotech Iron Man suit that almost bleeds itself over his body, generating weapons and shields organically. It’s a great effect, and the culmination of every bit of tech we’ve seen from him before. But it’s the first moment he puts it on that really rocks, when he tosses his glasses aside and seemingly tugs on the strings of his hoody to activate it. He is Iron Man.

The Watch (Captain America: Civil War): yeah, here we go again with something that can only charitably be referred to as “a suit”. But it’s just so damn cool, and again it’s another show of his ingenuity. Many references are made to him being a “civilian” in Civil War, only wearing his “Tom Ford” suit. But when the need arises, he taps a few commands into his watch and then sort of pulls it over his hand in one incredibly cool motion, creating one Iron Man glove. It allows him to off a few repulsor blasts and is robust enough to stop a bullet at point-blank range with seemingly no ill-effects.

Veronica (Avengers: Age of Ultron, 2015): the Hulkbuster armour is something from the comics so naturally everyone was clamouring to see it realised on-screen. Its use in Age of Ultron is great – the best bit of the film? Nah, that’s Hawkeye’s “the city is floating” speech – because of how it’s teased and how it unfolds. We know that “Veronica” (a nice play on Betty and Veronica) has been designed by Stark and Banner to control the Hulk just in case, which adds a good bit of tragedy to the proceedings. But launching from space, initially plonking great walls around the Jolly Green Giant, with some kind of Centurions-style wing-suit just about visible attaching itself to Iron Man in the background. And then the reveal: all the component parts fired from space, clicking into place around Stark’s existing armour, his squat round head flopping down over his tiny human head. And the fight begins, which is great; bonus “suit-up” points for replacement limbs flying in when Hulk trashes the existing ones.

Mid-Air Suit-Up (The Avengers): Stark’s nifty suit-removal system in his penthouse has already been singled out, but there’s another really cool moment in Avengers. Typically this scene is remembered, I’d say, for Stark’s “We have a Hulk” line to Loki, but his suit-up is great too. Slyly putting on some wristbands during his convo, he’s chucked out a window and mid-fall his new suit is fired to him, locking onto those fancy bracelets (still attempting some kind of just about plausible technology at this stage) and then folding itself around him like an uncomfortable-looking billion-dollar blanket.

Testing the Mark 2 (Iron Man, 2008): the iconic red-and-gold Iron Man armour is actually the third suit he wears in his debut film. And whilst it’s cool and all, it’s this, the first “real” suit-up moment, that I think set the stage for all that followed. Stark’s various automated arms and appliances piece the suit together around him, with lots of close-ups of screws being whirred into place and different flaps and hinges opening and closing. It’s an almost pornographic depiction of metal, a real petrolhead’s dream of the future. As I said before, the realism afforded this suit – its tactility and rigidity, its almost plausibility – gave the whole film and, really, the whole MCU a solid foundation.

House Party Protocol (Iron Man 3): well, where to start? The finale of Iron Man 3 might be another CG-heavy aerial battle, but conceptually it’s so damn fun. The running theme of a traumatised Stark building too many suits comes to a head as he unleashes all of them, running on autopilot, but available for him to jump into and out of at a moment’s notice as he battles the metal-melting Extremis-addled baddies. Cue a helter-skelter sequence of Stark leaping into one suit, ejecting just in time, losing (mechanical) limbs, getting picked up by another suit, et cetera. It’s hilarious and – that word again – ingenious and in culminates in a fantastic Mark 42 gag.

Shame I didn’t have room for Stark using the Mark 42 to save Pepper in Iron Man 3, but there’s only so much you can do. I think the various ways filmmakers have depicted these suit-up (and suit-down) moments over the years has been tremendous fun. Thus far, the “Iron Man-adjacent” characters we’ve met in Black Panther haven’t had anywhere near as cool a moment to shine. Hopefully the Ironheart show will give us a new contender.

Also, looking at the gif from Civil War again: where does the top of the glove come from? These films make no sense!

[tsilvy]

SO. Reflection time. Bear with me because this is long and rambly and spoilery for episode 5 of Around the world in 80 days.

All under the cut.

I can't believe they did that. I really, really can't believe it. I'd have bet money they would do the heroic run trope and save Fogg from the lash at the last second. But they didn't, and that's as clear a choice as I can think of. But I'll talk about that later.

First, do we all agree that this is the worst thing that could ever have happened to Fogg?

Just to put things into perspective, notice how Fogg comments as soon as the police starts searching him. "I've never been more humiliated in my life," he says. This was already out of his league at the very suspicion of theft. This is a man who is never touched nor seen by anyone. This is a man who is uncomfortable with hugs. But most importantly, a man whose rights have never been violated in his life.

The reason I am iterating this is I want everyone to understand the significance of what we've seen.

Because the fact is, this is not the most life-threatening event happened to Fogg during the journey. He's been on the verge of dying twice and a half. But the brutality, it's unheard of. A brutality he's ill-equipped to come to terms with. What we're seeing here is a monstrous imbalance of power, with Fogg on the wrong side of a scale he's known for the entirety of his life.

I cannot overstate what kind of humiliation that is to the psyche and self-esteem of someone who is already as withdrawn as he is. And the fact that it comes right after another tremendous blow to his dignity, not even 24 hours later.

Granted, he's seen a lot of things and listened to alternative facts and unlearned some of his biases already, but now you know, you just know, he's not going to come back home the same person he was before. He's been on the other side now. He's lost every single shred of privilege, he's lost control, in the single most brutal and irreversible way there is.

This is a choice they did, a statement: sometimes things go a bit wrong actually. And some things you just can't undo. To make an omelette you need to break some eggs, after all. They made a choice to leave an impression on him (and us) of his time in Hong Kong. Like, from now on Hong Kong is going to be code for a complete mess. It's a point of no return, if I ever saw one.

But there's another choice, another statement, that put into context with the other elements of this show marks the significance, the wrongness, of what we've seen.

The fact is, this is the opposite of all the things he's feared could have hurt him. This is not some """inferior culture""" robbing or kidnapping or killing him. This is not adversity in a wild, hostile environment. This is not one of the dangers he was warned about. In fact, it's the one he wasn't. This man was never warned about the structures, the people he should trust, turning on him (Bellamy included, but that’s for another post).

This is his pals, the English, his very pals, the 'masters of their trade', as Fogg puts it, those who were supposed to bring civilization to the world. It's the English who are hurting him, who are abusing their power, who are acting out barbaric practices and human rights violations, who are reveling in cruel impulses because they're removed enough from England the empire can't see it, or doesn't bother to.

Look at Fogg in that cell listening to the screams of the man being flogged before him, with tears in his eyes. Even just witnessing something like that, is too much.

THIS is the worst betrayal. The whole episode is about betrayal, but this is by far the worst. And it's yet another step of Fogg realizing the lies he's been told, this time experiencing it on his own skin. Because no, this wasn't at any point about Abigail exposing him, or Passepartout doing something very stupid that ultimately put Fogg in danger. This is about tiranny, injustice, the disregard of precisely those rights that protect the people from incidents and errors of the law like this one. Coated in a veneer of respectability.

Now I understand, this whole bit felt insidious, the vibes felt rancid, precisely because they were among the English. They were among power like never before, and that's what power does, the moment it can: it oppresses, it hurts, it cripples. They stopped being safe the moment they went to that party. Ah, the irony.

And I'm incredibly impressed with this show for pulling all that, for daring to go there, for crafting the single most gut-wrenching sequence of both a failure and a victory. And there's no celebration, mind you. No obligatory toast, not even a patching-up scene. Because we can't even begin to imagine how Fogg is feeling, and we shouldn't have to.