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55szn · 9 months ago

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lacy - mv1

max verstappen x fem!driver!reader

summary yn can't keep hiding her true feelings towards max

wc 1,6 k (i was supposed to keep it short for this one but oh well)

warnings this one angsty as fuuuck, reader kinda sucks sorry

a/n first post of this series omg i'm so excited!!!!!! i haven't written in a while so this may not be the best of my works but this is still one of my favorites <33 also english is not my first language so...yeah

YN sighed as she pulled the balaclava off and immediately ran her hand through her sweaty hair, attempting to make it look decent. Once again she was finishing behind Max. The Dutch looked back at her as he got down from the top of his car and gave her a sweet smile, she tried her best to reciprocate that smile but it probably looked as fake as it felt.

She couldn't really pinpoint when her rotten mind had started to harbor these feelings towards the man she loved.

YN's first encounter with Max occurred when they were barely teenagers, amid the noisy circuits of karting competitions. There was something captivating in that lanky and slightly awkward teenager that drew YN to him like a magnet. As time went on, their bond deepened, among endless talks of shared dreams that seemed unreachable at the time.

The first time Max kissed YN, she felt in heaven, enveloped in a kind of excitement she had never known. It didn't take long before he asked her to be his girlfriend and she accepted thinking life couldn't get better than that.

The mutual decision to keep their relationship under wraps seemed obvious, a conscious choice made as they started their parallel journeys into Formula 1, that was not the kind of attention they were seeking.

She felt true happiness for Max's overwhelming success, she truly did, at least at the beginning.

But YN found herself caught in the shadow of his success, a place she hadn't anticipated occupying. Eventually every podium celebration and victory lap, served as a bitter reminder of the expectations she was failing to meet. She couldn't acknowledge these feelings so she masked this resentment beneath a facade of congratulatory smiles and kisses. The press was no help. They endlessly compared their careers and although YN had managed to get some satisfying results, she was nowhere near Max's level. They ate it up, it gave them good headlines to pit them against the other. They were the embodiment of a tantalizing narrative – two very young drivers with great success in the lower categories, shared dreams and a seemingly unbreakable "friendship", both coming into F1 with good teams and high expectations but only one of them was reaching those expectations. It was a good story, sure. But the story was tearing YN apart.

Perhaps the tipping point arrived with a very specific headline, its words forever etched into her brain: "Max Verstappen: Vettel reincarnate." With each syllable, YN's throat constricted, her stomach twisting into knots. Max seemed to effortlessly get everything she ever yearned for, now he was getting put at the same level as her biggest idol and inspiration which proved to be too much to handle for her. And with each of his accomplishments the poisonous seed of envy took root within her heart.

It was so contradictory, when she finally admitted it to herself. She loved Max more than she loved herself and maybe that was the root of the problem, her own insecurities and bruised ego. But it was becoming impossible to fake a smile every time she saw him on that top step. She knew it wasn't true but she almost felt like Max was out to get her.

She hated Max. And she hated herself for that fact. How could one harbor so much love and hatred for someone at the same time?

She was loosing her mind, her fragile facade crumbling under the weight of her emotions. Of course the ever attentive eyes of the press and the fans noticed the way her once adoring glances towards Max were now replaced with icy stares. How she couldn't even make the effort to raise the corners of her mouth whenever Max complimented her skills or her racing. His tenders words of admiration which once felt like a warm summer breeze began to feel like bullets grazing her already wounded skin, they felt like mockery. It was only a matter of time until Max started noticing this too.

Something was clearly happening, and that's why he found himself knocking on her apartment's door late at night, the echoes of the particularly hard weekend YN had endured still reverberating through his mind. The bitter taste of failure and disappointment still lingered on her lips. YN had struggled with the car and couldn't even make it out of Q2, and Sunday's race offered little reprieve, finishing in a P11 that tasted of unfulfilled expectations. While, of course, Max had made a brilliant pole position and had won the race, once again making everyone worship the ground he walked on. He hadn't seen YN since the race finished. She flew back to Mónaco that same night without even letting him know and without even asking if he wanted to fly back with her, which was the case almost every weekend. Max wasn't stupid, he could tell something was up with her lately, the distance she was putting between them, he was loosing her. And he loved her too much to let her go without a fight.

The door creaked open, YN's figure against the dim lighting within. Her jealous eyes clouded with heavy feelings. She stepped aside wordlessly, allowing Max to enter, her silence was louder that any word could ever be.

He carefully walked in, the all too familiar environment of his girlfriend's apartment suddenly feeling cold and foreign. Max was tense before taking a seat on the armrest of her couch. His heart felt heavy, he already wanted to cry. He had trouble getting the words out, something that had never happened in the years he had known YN. What had they become?

He swallowed dry before finally finding his voice. "I think we need to have a talk." His gaze was pleading for her to meet his eyes, but she kept staring at her shoes.

She froze at his words and her fingers tightened around the edge of the table she was leaning against. She could tell this conversation was coming, yet she dreaded the flood of emotions threatening to consume her, scared of the things she could say.

"What is it, Max?" Her voice was strained, an inner battle developing inside her, trying to control her emotions.

"You know what it is about, schat." Her jaw tightened at the pet name, now it somehow sounded condescending, even though deep down she knew that wasn't true. "YN something's been bothering you lately. I know it. Please talk to me."

YN's heart clenched painfully at his words, her resolve crumbling under the weight of her own inner turmoil. How could she even begin to articulate the burning envy and resentment that coursed through her veins every time she looked at him? How could she admit out loud to hating the man she loved more than life itself?

When she finally looked up and met his stare she felt the monstrous feeling that had been gnawing at her conscience completely engulf her and she wasn't in control of her own words anymore. Her eyes burning with a contradictory mix of longing and loathing. "Are you seriously asking me that, Max?" Her voice trembled with suppressed emotion.

Max recoiled at the intensity of her stare and her tone, a sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach by the anticipatory feeling of his world crumbling down completely. "YN, I..."

"You know damn well what's going on." YN's voice cracked with emotion, her words laced with a bitterness that made it unrecognizable to both of them. "You have everything, Max. The wins, the championships, the adoration of the whole fucking world. Everything I ever wanted, you took it for yourself." She knew she wasn't making sense, the words were spilling out of her mouth before she had the time to catch them.

Max's heart constricted with an unfair amount of guilt. "YN, I... I had no idea you felt this way."

"And why would you?" She retorted, her voice rising with each word. "You're too busy basking in your own glory to notice how much it's killing me to be constantly compared to you." That wasn't his fault, and she knew it. It was the pure and evil hatred that consumed her that was speaking those words.

He felt like he had been punched in the gut. "I'm sorry." He shouldn't have to apologize for what he accomplished after years and years of hard work, yet he did, the fear of loosing her bigger than the need to acknowledge his self worth.

The hurt mirroring in his eyes was obvious, her tone softened before she spoke again. "You don't have to apologize, Max. You deserve it, you deserve it so much. I know that and you should too." She took a sharp breath in. "But knowing that doesn't change how I feel. I...I hate you."

He looked at her, stunned. His heart plummeted to his stomach. Her words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of their meaning.

"I do. I hate you Max. I hate you for being able to get everything I've only ever dared to dream of." She couldn't believe she was admitting it to Max's face, breaking the heart of the man she claimed to love.

Max felt as though the ground had been ripped out from under him, the sting of her words cutting deeper than any wound ever could. "I can't believe you're saying this," he mumbled, his voice chocked.

"I wish I didn't have to Max but I can't bear to keep lying to your face. I wish I could just pretend like everything's okay, like I'm still happy for you. But I can't, I'm sorry." YN's voice cracked with the weight of her confession, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked at him with a strange mix of love and loathing. "I love you too much to keep lying to you."

The silence was sepulcral, years and years of shared moments full of love completely destroyed by the sick envy that had infected YN.

But the truth is, their love was doomed from the beginning.

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hawkinsmafia · 7 months ago

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𝔼𝕕𝕕𝕚𝕖 𝕄𝕦𝕟𝕤𝕠𝕟: 𝔽𝕝𝕦𝕗𝕗 𝔸𝕝𝕡𝕙𝕒𝕓𝕖𝕥

day 04 : Eddie

featuring Eddie Munson x reader (no assumed gender)

rating: general

cw: two minor, non-graphic mentions of sex; one brief mention of recreational marijuana use

wc: 1.6k

an: this is my first time doing one of these, and I was reminded of filling out those massively long surveys your friends would all email around in the 90s. I miss those. this was written for @corrodedcoffinfest!

𝔸𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕖𝕤 :: How does Eddie spend free time with his partner?

⟢ Eddie is the king of parallel play. Just being in the same room is enough to please him, even if you’re both absorbed in different activities. You’re lounging on the couch with a book while Eddie is noodling around with his guitar, or he’s at the table working on his campaign notes while you’re writing up a grocery list.

𝔹𝕖𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕪 :: What does Eddie admire about his partner?

⟢ I won’t lie, one of his criteria in a partner is how well you fit into his rockstar aesthetic. If you look like you’re ready to pose beside him on the cover of Rolling Stone, that’s a huge boon.

ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕥 :: How does Eddie help his partner when they’re struggling?

⟢ Eddie’s love language is acts of service, so when you’re having a rough time, he’s insisting you take the night off and let him make dinner—and it’s probably just boxed macaroni and cheese and maybe a can of green beans if he thinks about it, but he makes it with so much love. Then afterward, if you’re amenable, he’d break out his private stash and pack a bowl for you.

𝔻𝕒𝕥𝕖 :: What is Eddie’s first date with his partner like?

⟢ A disaster. He had big ideas of impressing you, but it was one of those nights where nothing went as he planned. He wanted to take you to an open mic night and wow you with his musical prowess, but the performance list was already full when you arrived. At a loss for a last-minute substitution, you wound up going to the Hawkins High carnival, where he was harassed by the popular crowd, he couldn’t manage to win a single game to get you a prize, and he nearly choked to death on his corn dog (then coughed so hard he almost puked). To top it all off, he was pulled over by a cop while driving you home, and the familiarity the cop had with Eddie clearly announced that he had regular run-ins with them. And to this day, Eddie has absolutely no idea why you invited him inside when he finally got you home, or asked to see him again tomorrow for a do-over.

𝔼𝕢𝕦𝕒𝕝 :: Is Eddie more dominant or submissive in his relationship?

⟢ Eddie is a very easy switch. He can and will take either role depending on his mood and yours, and can switch from one to the other with a moment’s notice.

𝔽𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 :: What is it like when Eddie and his partner argue?

⟢ Honestly, Eddie doesn’t argue with you very often. He struggles with feelings of inadequacy and fears the day you’ll wake up and realize he’s a worthless, white trash loser, and he’s afraid of driving you to that realization early. Much more common between you are the more playful, low stakes disagreements, like which dresser drawer to put socks and underwear in (the top one, obviously) or whether peanut butter belongs in the fridge or not (no). These ‘arguments’ are usually settled with a dice roll.

𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕥𝕦𝕕𝕖 :: Does Eddie acknowledge how much his partner does for him?

⟢ Oh god, yes. See above for those feelings of inadequacy, he is grateful as hell that you gave a freak a chance and somehow found him worthwhile, at least for now.

ℍ𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕪 :: Does Eddie keep secrets from his partner or does he share everything?

⟢ Eddie couldn’t keep anything from you to save his life. He tells you everything, and everyone knows that if they tell Eddie something, they’re really telling the both of you because he’ll tell you immediately.

𝕀𝕟𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 :: Has Eddie’s partner inspired him to grow or change in any way?

⟢ Your presence in his life has made him more focused and given him more drive. His rockstar dreams were just a farfetched fantasy that he toyed with before, daydreams of a better life, but now with you in the picture, he craves that success to be more than make-believe.

𝕁𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕪 :: How does Eddie handle jealousy in his relationship?

⟢ Eddie doesn’t fall victim to jealousy all that often. Those occasions when he does feel it flare up, though, it’s because he saw someone else flirting with you, and his response is to go over there and slip an arm around you, maybe give you a slightly-too-deep kiss, and remind the other person that you’re already spoken for.

𝕂𝕚𝕤𝕤 :: Is Eddie a good kisser?

⟢ He’s not too bad! He doesn’t have a whole lot of experience when you first get together—there haven’t been many people in Hawkins willing to take a chance on a Munson—but he does have some natural talent, and he’s a quick learner with practice.

𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕗𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟 :: How does Eddie confess his love to his partner?

⟢ In song. He stresses out for a while over how to get to the next level with you, and he finally decides that since music is his forte, he’ll write you a song and perform it for you.

𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕒𝕘𝕖 :: Would Eddie want to marry his partner?

⟢ Eddie would be one of those guys who proposes to his partner and then stalls in the engaged phase for years, putting off the actual marriage. It’s not that he doesn’t want to marry you (he does!), but he’s worried (perhaps subconsciously) about tying himself to you and becoming a weight that holds you back, ruining your life by making you a Munson.

ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕟𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕤 :: What does Eddie call his partner?

⟢ Princess, sweetheart, baby, babe. If he’s in a goofy mood, he’ll call you ‘my liege’ (often with a deep bow and a thick accent).

𝕆𝕟 ℂ𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕕 ℕ𝕚𝕟𝕖 :: What is Eddie like when he’s in love?

⟢ Oh god, I hate to say this, but I think he’s that guy who kind of slowly starts drifting away from his friends in favor of spending time with his partner instead, at least for a while, and it causes tension between you and them. When he starts cancelling Hellfire at the last minute and not showing up to band rehearsal, the others start getting angry with him.

ℙ𝔻𝔸 :: Does Eddie openly share affection with his partner, or is he more private?

⟢ This man would fuck you in the hallway at school if you asked him to. Once you’ve made it clear that you aren’t afraid of everyone knowing you’re with him, he can be downright obnoxious with his affection. You’re the couple making out in the hall during class change, causing a traffic jam. You’re the couple who gets caught in closets and bathrooms at every party. More than once, Wayne has had to clear his throat rather loudly to remind Eddie that he’s still in the room.

ℚ𝕦𝕚𝕣𝕜 :: What’s a random action Eddie performs for his partner?

⟢ He learns your routine and makes a point to ask if you want a ride to work today before you even say anything, or he’s already waiting for you outside your classes so he can walk with you to your next one.

ℝ𝕠𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 :: How romantic is Eddie?

⟢ Very romantic. He’s making you new mix tapes weekly. Whenever he stops for gas, he always comes back to the van with your favorite snack without being asked. (He may have taken the five-finger discount, but it’s the thought that counts!) He holds doors open for you with a sweeping bow. He makes a big production of giving you a pin off his battle vest or one of his rings.

𝕊𝕦𝕡𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕥 :: How does Eddie help his partner achieve their goals?

⟢ You have never heard a pep talk until Eddie gives you one. He is a stalwart and unwavering pillar of support, and no one believes in you as much as Eddie believes in you.

𝕋𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕝𝕝 :: Does Eddie like to experiment and try new things, or does he prefer familiarity?

⟢ Eddie is always down to try something new, especially if it’s something you’re interested in. Whether it’s a new movie in a genre he doesn’t gravitate toward, or heading into the city to try a new restaurant cuisine that’s caught your attention, or a new bedroom activity, Eddie’s down for it.

𝕌𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 :: How well does Eddie know his partner?

⟢ Pretty damn well. Sometimes you might think he’s not listening while you’re talking, but even when he looks distracted, he never misses a word. He knows your favorite color, the foods you hate, your class or work schedule, the kind of future you daydream about. If you have a menstrual cycle, he doesn’t have it memorized but he can always tell immediately when your uterus is making problems.

𝕍𝕒𝕝𝕦𝕖 :: How important is Eddie’s relationship to him?

⟢ It’s literally the single most important thing in Eddie’s life. It’s the greatest thing he’s ever had, and he knows he doesn’t deserve anything this good. He loves you more than his guitar, which speaks volumes on its own.

𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕕 ℂ𝕒𝕣𝕕 :: A random fluffy headcanon.

⟢ The first year you were together, Eddie very nearly forgot your birthday. It wasn’t until a quarter to midnight that he remembered, and he tore out of the trailer like a man on fire to get over to your place before midnight, nothing but apologies and affection and promises to make it up to you this weekend. Since then, he goes out of his way to make a big deal of your birthday every year.

𝕏𝕆𝕏𝕆 :: Does Eddie like to be affectionate with his partner?

⟢ Oh yes. Given a choice, Eddie would be attached to your hip 24/7. He loves to hold your hand, put an arm around you, give you little kisses, cuddle up to you. If acts of service is his primary love language, physical touch is a close second.

𝕐𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 :: How does Eddie cope when he’s missing his partner?

⟢ If at all possible, the quickest cure is to just go see you. Eddie’s liable to show up at your place at any hour of the day or night, looking a little lost and forlorn, just wanting to see you. If you’re unreachable like that, oh, how this boy pines for you. He’s a mopey, moody, melancholy mess. Wayne has to tell him to go outside and get some sunlight before he makes the mold in the trailer flourish with that storm cloud over his head.

ℤ𝕖𝕒𝕝 :: To what lengths would Eddie go for his relationship?

⟢ Eddie would brave the Upside Down alone to preserve your relationship. He would bitch and moan the entire way, but he would do it if it meant keeping you.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #character alphabet #eddie munson alphabet #fic #(but not really)#my writing

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r3dcarat · 4 months ago

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Chapter One : The Prologue

everything is raw and not proofread! i’m too lazy to do so lol.

The minute the Drakes’ baby was born, two lives were changed: the parents. It was common knowledge that as expecting first time parents, Jack and Janet would experience a huge change in their already made lives.

But this change to the expecting parents was colossal compared to their previous changes in life. For Janet, this change was the most memorable. Chest to chest. Eyes to Eyes. Body warmth traveling through both making the skin hike as a torched area.

Janet was tired to say the least but that did not stop her from looking at her baby with such adoration. Her finger and eyes peeked through the white blanket that the nurses adorned the newborn with. As a result, the babe opened her small eyes to peek at her mother’s curious eyes. The shine of the babe’s cornflower blue orbs reflected upon Janet’s hazel honey orbs. As both irises paralleled as fit, Janet then realized to what extent this change will bring.

Janet is a mother now. Her body was able to give her a child, but not just any child but her own. Her baby girl. But that’s where the slight issue came in. Her baby girl was not a baby boy as she and Jack thought her to be.

As the issue slowly sinked in, Janet remembered how badly Jack wanted a baby boy. A baby boy to be an heir for him. Fit to be an heir in both life and business aspects for him. Janet found it both annoying and endearing when he was rambling on about how he couldn’t wait for their baby to be a boy a few weeks after finding out they were expecting.

Yes they were just a few weeks into their pregnancy journey but they couldn’t help but immediately expect for a boy. It just felt right for their new addition to be a boy. But more so for Jack. He always exclaimed how he would treat his boy as a champ. Teach him all the pathways there are to be a boy and especially grow a man.

“Jan, I could finally have a little helper when I work on my cars!”

“Oh how adorable would he be dressed up at events!”

“I could already see it so vividly, Timothy Jackson Drake!” Jack would gasp in utter delight.

“I am prepared for our champ to greet us both.”

It was a tender side of her husband that she recognized from way back to the beginning of their complicated marriage. Back when they were stupid in love and stuck so horrendously in the honeymoon phase. Back when they loved with no limit. Something that is such a rarity in the present. So to keep that warm manner of her husband running on, Janet encouraged Jack’s advanced prediction of their baby’s gender.

A selfish deed she felt she deserved so desperately to make her pregnancy the easiest between both expecting parents. So, as a result both Drakes never asked for the baby’s gender when visiting the doctor's office.

Even when the doctors recommended both to know, so it would give them more preparation for the baby’s welcome. They declined. Every single time.

Flashforward to now, Janet regrets it. She should’ve known that her selfishness would bite her back. It always does. And now the new mother sits with her new baby girl. Rapid thoughts flowing like a rainforest current, with no capability of stopping. So many thoughts on what’s next.

Janet loves her child no matter the gender. But Jack? He wanted a baby boy, never expressing for a girl. Now what? Will he be mad? Will he be disappointed? Will he hate Janet?

..Will he hate his daughter?

Is he capable of it? Is she capable of allowing it? So many thoughts on what’s next but she knows that no matter what.

No matter what. Janet will love her child. Janet will love her baby girl, no matter what. And as Janet was drowning in thoughts she didn’t notice how her child began to subconsciously reach her finger with the chub of her own. The infant was successful in touching Janet’s finger, which seemed to bring Janet back to reality.

As her eyes began to zone in on her newborn, she realized that it didn't matter. None of what she thought or spiraled at mattered. Janet knew that Jack’s reaction to her meant nothing. Whether or not he takes well to the baby’s gender does not concern her. Because in the end, Janet will fight for her daughter. And almost in cue came Jack.

Janet supposed that the nurses let him in to see his newborn. But, even knowing such a reasonable explanation to Jack being in the room, she couldn’t help but inch her body inward to hide the baby.

Janet’s “little” action was caught by everyone. Most reacted in confusion but only Jack reacted with delicacy. He went to Janet’s side and slowly held his shaking hands out. Jack’s face was shaped in awe, with his mouth pried open, but eyes in disbelief.

After seconds of silence, Jack begged with a raspy tone, “Jannie, can I see our baby?”

#female tim drake #tim drake #God’s Honor #batman au #batman #red robin #robin

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sol-consort · 10 days ago

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!! I love whenever you write those post ab how far u r with ur cyberpunk journey and ur opinions and thoughts x3 hope ur having a good day :D

Thank you! I love talking about it so much. This game is beautiful and dissecting its scenes is so entertaining.

I've been doing the fighting club missions lately and was surprised to see Johnny actually show interest in a car.

Tbh same, I saw the car and my jaw dropped to the floor. What a beauty. I beat the guy and let him keep the money, I just want the car!

He immediately projects himself into it and doesn't take his eyes off of the car for a second. Even is like, "What are you waiting for V?" to urge you up to win the damn match and get him HIS car.

Side note: very adorable how when he pictures himself in the car, he chooses to appear in the passenger seat and not the driver's. Because he knows he's confined to the fate of eternal passenger princess and that V will always be the one driving.

But also, I like to think that he was this way even before, never drove himself anywhere, just constantly made people do it for him, while he put his feet up (dirty shoes and all bc bastard) on the dashboard and lit a cigarette.

Anyway here are pictures of Johnny and his one true love!

(Ignore the poser merc, they're just a conformist)

But seriously here is one with just Johnny and the car of his dreams alone.

And some more because those were fun to take

I recently got all the tarot cards, and let me tell you the scream I scrumt when I finally found the Death card oh my got. umatchable high, finally guessed something right.

The reward is a little anticlimactic—lowkey I hoped for more scenes of Johnny's past where we get to walk around in his body, see more memories, and interact with the 2020 cyberpunk world.

But heyho more Misty content is always a win in my book! My beloved Misty! Is there a mod that adds her to photography mode? I'm desperate, man. I need to take a cool pic of her and V hugging.

How she nonchalantly called both V and Johnny the fool lmao. Accurate. Two brains, one body, yet no braincells to be found. The combination of their brains came the closest to miracling negative numbers into existence.

I'm started to notice a pattern of foreshadowing here. First, Deshawn asking V if they'd prefer a slow death by a comfortable life or to burn in a blaze of glory and become a legend.

And now Misty telling V and Johnny they need to either best the world or make peace with it. One of the two endings to the fool's journey, which is the premise of the entire game as the art direction seems to imply.

To be honest, I know nothing about tarots, and I'm tempted to look up the Fool's journey to read about it. But at this point, with this strong of a parallel, it feels like I'd just be spoiling the game plot for me by doing so. I would rather remain in the dark for now. I will check out the tarots after I finish the game.

Back to foreshadowing, this constant choice offered to you makes me think the endings will either be to follow in Johnny's footsteps and blow up the Arasaka tower, dying in the process and burning into a blaze of glory.

Or, somehow, getting rid of Johnny (or merging together into the same person and suppressing his desires for revenge with your own contentment) and just... living life, you know. Anticlimactic but expected.

(Please don't actually tell me the endings or even hint at them. I don't want to know if my guesses are close)

It'd be cool if there is an ending where Johnny just takes over you completely and the player is forced to control him instead of V. But that feels like a pipedream.

I thought about it a lot, what to do if I was in this situation and couldn't get rid of or calm down this parasite in my brain. My proposed solution is to make another brainchip, copy V's consciousness into it, plop it into any rando's dead body from the piles of corpses we leave behind in missions, then boom! Problem solved, easy peasy. If Johnny isn't willing to move out of my body, then I'll throw him the bone and move out myself. He can have it, dude. idgaf, I'll get me a new body.

But also, this solution will only work in the very, very early stages of the infestation. Otherwise, the chip would've eaten too much of V's brain to be able to correctly copy it into a new chip. Even then, what's the guarantee that we won't end up with a second V and a third Johnny? But hey, at least now they're not dying!

I've finished the brainchip engineer convoy mission. Rip scorpion. The amount of information revealed ??? Like

So it was never just a relic we were stealing. This chip isn't malfunctioning because Johnny is a stubborn dick who's attempting to take over our body by force. If anything, it's functioning perfectly. This is what it was designed to do, shred your brain into sludge and slowly replace all the parts.

Even in the best case scenario where the soul trapped in the relic is extremely friendly and doesn't want to harm us or erease any part of our brain, It still has no actual choice in the matter. No real power over the relic itself.

Silverhand's engram isn't special. Johnny wouldn't be able to stop the chip to save V even if he wanted to—the fact he is indifferent to the whole thing is another matter entirely.

But the thing is, why did the chip even save V's life if it was meant to activate when the host is dead? For a split second all neuron activity within V's brain began to fizzle out as the bullet tore brain tissue apart, and in that split second the relic made the choice to reboot their brain instead of completely overtaking over it.

Why?

How?

Was it a conscious choice? Was it Johnny's doing? Was it the relic's doing? Was it some stroke of luck?

This also means that Arasaka ment for Johnny's relic to be activated eventually, for what purpose exactly? Why keep the soul of your nemesis trapped in stasis awaiting revival? Just to brag? A victory trophy? A lesson to teach those who mess with Arasaka? To torture him one day? Or to revive him just to point and laugh? Just in case for the unlikely scenario that shitty punk rock bands become a dying bread and it's left to Johnny to save the world with the power of music and unwashed armpits?

Hope it gets answered! eventually... after like 50 more shopping spree montages where I waste all of V's money on clothes and then wonder why I can't afford better cyberware.

I want you to focus on this line here.

"It's programmed to take over its new environment, at all costs."

"No matter what, sooner or later, the engram wins?"

"Yes."

THE IMPLICATIONS! I CALLED IT!!! I FUCKING CALLED IT!!!!

The.

Implications.

Are REAL.

fuck :(

1. Your personalities are merging. The scale is tipping very slowly, but surely. This is a fact.

2. Johnny is suddenly defensive and dismissive in this conversation despite staying silent at the beginning. Denying his influence in the past on you and warning you against listening too much to Hellman only when he started to tread on dangerous territory that'd make you suspicious of Johnny.

3. "at least Johnny never whored himself out like you" is 100% a a Johnny line. V doesn't speak like this. It's abrupt and doesn't fit with the V's past comments during the conversation. But it certainly fits with Johnny's. It was an offered dialogue choice for the player to make. We're actively choosing to make V into Johnny with every option we pick, no matter how small and seemingly meaningless.

In conclusion: the fucker's taking you for an absolute tool. At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if it's Johnny's influence that's purposely isolating V just so they never listen to any counter arguments on why maybe taking advice from a mechanical tumor is a bad idea.

The more V remains miserable and lonely, the more susceptible to Johnny's influence they become. The more they hang on to his every word, take his advice to heart, look forward to the bits and pieces of chatter he drops around. Things you the player often do.

Because V's current life is unbelievably loney. You sleep alone in empty apartments, shower, drink coffee, go outside, and wander without purpose. The only time people ever call you is when they have jobs for you to take or when they need your help as in doing missions for them.

V spends entire weeks just waking up, killing people for money, going back home, sleeping, then rinse and repeat. Sometimes, days pass by where they haven't spoken a single word to themselves or anyone else.

It's normal from our perspective as players. This is how game protagonists always acted. This is why the loneliness flies under the radar for so long before the player clocks just how miserable V's life is. Why we're none the wiser when V suddenly has lots more dialogue options to reply to Johnny in small scattered conversations, someone they once swore to never listen to, yet driven by desperation and isolation into befriending.

At the end of the mission, you get the dreadful conversation with Johnny.

And I just want to point out that the man saying this

Is the very same man who said this only a few days ago.

Apparently he changed his mind again :)

Fr tho, he's clearly contradicting himself. There is a clear contrast between what Johnny wants, and what he thinks he should want.

Or once he saw that his reign over your mind is invetable, he decided to trash the whole script and come clean with his intentions since you can't do shit about it at this point.

Talking about isolation, I've recently finished the Sinnerman mission.

Oh Joshua :(

I've dealt with my fair share of extremely religious individuals in my life. Even ones devoted to a delusional degree. You learn to live with them. Because at the end of the day, they're people like you and me. They say the same things people say, only worded differently with some sprinkled religious qoutes here and there. You become desensitised to the fanatic aspect and learn to read between the lines.

And because of growing up in a place with a lot of religious people, I developed a sort of admiration towards the passion and devotion they hold. In a lot of instances, I'd indulge them in conversation and earnestly ask about their interpretation of certain events and ideas.

When I first started writing queer stories at 12 years old, one even came to argue with my in my dms about how wrong the thing I'm doing is. Instead of approaching me with hostility it seemed as if they pity me and wanted to gently diway me from "sin" this greatly piqued my interest as a kid and I spent hours talking to them and debating the actual meaning of certian religious lines.

Because you only get to learn more about the religion type when they share their interpretations of abstract and vague text with you, it gives you a mirror into their inner psyche, their personal opinions and believes, not the ones their holy scripture makes them abide by.

Plus, they're way more open to talking about sombre topics such as death, sin, and redemption. Things the average person considers too heavy for a conversation with a stranger. And I love to yap and philosphise about, so surprisingly we got along pretty nicely for two strangers having a conversation at the bus stop, otherwise I knew they'd want my "undesirable" queer ass to burn in hell.

So when met with a character like Joshua, he wasn't anything out of the ordinary for me. Instead, he felt like a trip back home. I could easily look past his alarming traits and see the person behind the religious talk, I've become desensitised.

I ask you to grant him the same grace, in the following conversation screenshots, to attempt to overlook the religious extremism and approach his words with a fresh open mind. Pretend he's talking about personal philosophy that he discovered or a new form of art he founded instead. Indulge me, to be able to see him in the same way I do.

I'd be lying if I said the protective way he spoke to V didn't stir something in me.

Because no one can even harm a hair on V's head if they tried, but Joshua doesn't know that. He isn't aware of V's reputation or extent of power. They're not someone you best easily. Getting shot and still keeping going is a daily occurrence to V.

Yet he's still gentle with us despite it. Soft with his words, merciful? Benevolent?

Little creepy.

Lonely. Incredibly so.

The way he speaks and holds himself is reminiscent of how stories portray kind yet wise prophets of the past. Asking the person paid to kill you to spend one day with you, willingly at that too, is something straight out of a bible story.

He has enough social awareness to realise Rachel's true views on him. He isn't stupid or naive, Joshua knows the studio is only helping him not out of the kindness of their heart, but to make money off of his death.

He knows what the lieutenant assigned to protect him actually thinks of him. A charlatan, a vile scum of a criminal that deserves death. Yet he risks upsetting Vasques just to stop him from shooting at you.

"I didn't like the way they looked at me, and I had the power to stop them"

Remorse and shame clear in his tone of voice, yet he doesn't try to evade the blame or clear his name. He takes it in stride, tells you why he really shot them after he robbed the story. He doesn't try to mask the truth and say they obstructed his escape, or that he only did it out of desperation for money.

No, he is upfront with his sins. He simply didn't like how they looked at him in fear and terror as if he was a monster.

And he held the power to stop them. Forever. Rather kill them than bruise his ego, than stain his conscience with a reminder of what he's done.

But that was in the past, the man in front of you turned a new leaf. Or so it seems.

"I truly need you."

"You're the one I want to talk to."

"Remain by my side and talk to me"

An artist needs an audience.

An idea is only relevant if it's being thought upon.

A show for one is still a show.

Vasques and Rachel are part of the cast, the opposing powers. Joshua needs someone with new eyes, someone to watch, to bear witness. V is that someone.

He truly needs you much like a painting set on fire needs an observer.

The mission continues afterwards, and he takes you to meet the sister of one of the people he killed. They talk, and you find out Joshua's true plan is.

Now, I don't think he actually thinks he's the messiah or a second coming of christ. It's easy to misinterpret it this way because of Joshua using Christ imagery in his choice of execution.

He understands art on a fundamental level. That's what makes him a good actor. He understands that if he wants to be a messiah, he'll need to go through the whole journey, not just the crucification part—which was done to Jesus against his will, yet Joshua is volunteering himself to it.

Instead, it's a display of love, not of divine powers.

If you've ever cosplayed a character, you'll understand this feeling. You would've felt a much less extreme version of what Joshua's feeling.

It is a cosplay to him. He knows he's not the messiah. But it's a cosplay done out of respect and love, an attempt to wake people up.

It's his unconditional love for his god, which he's showcasing that day, which in turn should prove the existence of god by virtue of its own existence.

He wants this display to be turned into a braindance so he can reach the general audience more easily. Because if what he truly feels at that moment is unconditional love and they get a glimpse of it while playing the BD, then it'd be as if his soul touched them, and maybe changed their views on life a little.

He's not trying to convert people by an execution garbed in holy robes, he's trying to convert them through hope and love, his own endless hope and love.

An honest attempt, by a person fully aware of the corruption that lurks at every corner in this world. Joshua is more of an artist who's using religion as a medium for his art rather than a holy figure. And art touches people just as well.

Does it ring a bell? Remind you of someone who once also tried to shake the world awake through his art?

Then there is the last line he said:

"Think of paid killers like you, V. Have you known love? Do you know what it is?"

And it stung.

The pure love V was shown in a city so vile.

The very same love Joshua hopes to show others that they're capable of.

The very same love Jackie and Mama Welles extended to you, Zuleikha has shown Joshua. If not even more. She reached out to the killer of her own brother, not for revenge to sate the burn in her heart with, but for a chance at mutual understanding.

She offered forgiveness.

You can sneak upstairs and read through her messages. You find out she greatly struggled with the loss of her brother, her journey through grief documenting through brief correspondences between her and the local priest.

That's how Zuleikha got the idea that unconditional love is the answer to this heartburn, how Joshua completely adapted her message.

And that family really struggled with loss. The room next to her is clearly her brother's room, left untouched still. His bed unmade, the same as the day he left it.

There was no bedroom for the mother, suggesting she slept on the couch or living room. Their family wasn't doing well financially, and yet the mother still sacrificed just to give her two children some comfort and privacy.

I switched to camera mode and attempted to read the scattered papers on Zuleikha'a desk. Just copy pasted assets, that, or apparently everyone in Night City owns a lease to a mango farm.

At the end of the mission, you get this conversation with Johnny.

He acts weird during it, doesn't he?

Unusually quiet at first, before V provokes him with the "Where's the rebel Johnny?"

Only for him to snap and admit that the real rebel was in this guy all along. This isn't the first time Johnny has shown surprisingly empathy to incredibly lonely people.

I thought it was strange that his hologram didn't disappear at the end of the conversation. Johnny goes from standing up to sitting down again. It was an active decision.

Until I turned back to look at him one last time before I left

And realised how familiar this scene felt.

Where have I seen this before?

Oh. Right.

Love it when devs have fun.

btw a bug happened here where the Mr. Stud ad got stuck onto the screen? No matter how much I waited, no new ad ever came. So, of course, knowing me, I absolutely did NOT take advantage of the situation to take some tantalising pictures.

Mhm not me sir not at all.

My hand slipped.... however

All night every night indeed.

It was by complete coincidence that I played these two missions back to back—now I can't help but see the blatant overlapping of what the studio is doing to Joshua, what the Johnny brainchip is doing to V's meatbrain, and what capitalism does to society in our real world.

Let's take a currently relevant example to the year 2025, Squid Game, the series. The first season was supposed to be the only season—much like the first world war was supposed to be only known as the Great War, but humanity never learns—It's a clear criticism of capitalism, it couldn't be more in your face with its message if it tries. You have to actively play a part in the downfall, therefore murder, of others in order to succeed. And when failure means death, succeeding becomes pure survival.

Because that's what money is, as it currently stands, isn't it? Having money means you can afford food, housing, and medication. Every means of survival once offered freely by nature has been stripped bare to make room for more factories, for more villas, for another Walmart parking lot. The weather is constantly setting new records for extreme temperatures every year. The odds of surviving without a roof over your head are getting slimer and slimer.

And Squid game took this line of logic and completely removed the middle man. It moved the finish line in front of the starting point. Shortened the sentence to "Money = the right to live"

All the silly games that mock its participants with its innate childishness and simplicity despite being a literal life or death stake. All the convoluted silly rules you have to abide by to keep a stable job if you happened to start from the bottom. How everything you've worked for, your whole life, can go astray because of a bad stroke of luck or some asshole who got away with it.

Yet look at the show now, turned into another byproduct of the market. The director abhors his creation as it's reduced to another fat, old gold vein for the studio to exploit.

Anything that aims to criticise Capitalism peacefuly, only ends up getting sucked into it instead, reinforcing the very same notion it was set out to destroy.

The 60 year old man who's dedicated his entire life to being a fanatic of Johnny's band, who memorised all the lyrics and knows all the trivial facts there is to know, shamelessly sells you the bootleg of Samurai's first gigs at a very steep price. The very same recorded bootleg of a free concert by people who didn't even know who Samurai were. They just liked the tunes and wanted to archive it. Sixty years, and yet the core message still flew over his head as he churned them into another niche band to make merch off and sell it on the street. The very same songs set out to criticise capitalism only to end up reinforcing it instead as they get sold for thousands of eddies by someone with zero right to sell them.

Knows all the lyrics but didn't understand a single word.

Going back to the parallels. Joshua's demise is inevitable, no matter what choices you make. His authenticity is only valued by how much it could improve the quality of the braindance, protected and nurtured by Rachel for its scarcity, therefore material value.

"It's programmed to take over its new environment, at all costs."

"No matter what, sooner or later, Capitalism wins?"

No matter how sincere of a message you hold in your heart, no matter how authentic and real, how pure your intentions are. Joshua only wanted to prove the existence of unconditional love, because if that could exist, then so could god, in his eyes.

It all ends up being exploited for the benefit of another who's trying to make bank in a certain market under the guise of helping you.

I post my sincere writings and thoughts on a website that bans trans people's accounts, a website that pushes mandatory ads on all of its users, that offers a premium subscription, that censors posts as it pleases to appease shareholders and ad companies. Yet still pushes ads that are just full on real life porn occasionally.

This website advertises itself as a safe place, who's not like those other evil websites ruined by greed. Whilst being overrun by pornbots and obnoxious premium subscription pop ups. And people make jokes of it now, blaze posts fot fun as a silly pvp war thing, pay the very same website to get a cool pin or two on their account. It's irony they claim, those tens of rainbow coloured checkmarks, it's to make fun of twitter checkmarks don't you get it? It's a silly haha joke, aimed to criticise consumerism! By paying ten times the price of the twitter checkmark just to get all the rainbow coloured ones on this website! Hell yeah! You're really sticking it up to the big man. Sick irony my dude.

Maybe that's why I felt sympathy for Joshua, comradery even. I saw myself in him. An incredibly lonely person whose got nothing to offer to this cruel world but their love and feelings in a form of art, who gets robbed of that too as it's used to exploit both the people who abhor and adore the art he has to offer.

I deeply apologise to you, the one reading this, for every time you went to check my blog or reread a story and saw an ad pushed into you between my writing. I'm very sorry we're both being played for idiots in this, that my art was twisted into something to take advantage of my readers for a website to earn literal pennies.

Lastly, Johnny. Our prima donna of examples.

He dedicated his whole life to destroy this one thing, only to end up having his soul sucked out and put on a parasitic brainchip.

And what does he do in this situation? Becomes the very same thing he swore to destroy. He takes and takes from V, couldn't care less that they're a person, he will do everything he can to achieve his goal—doesn't matter what the goal is—what matters is that if he needs V's body to achieve it, he will take it by force.

Every attempt to connect and sympathise with him is twisted by Johnny for him to gain more leverage over you, to sneak that brainchip percentage even a decimal higher while you're busy bearing your heart to him.

Embodying the very same methods of capitalism, the very same soul sucking endless consumerism ways. Except with your life now, your brain, your body, everything you are.

He was quiet during the Joshua quest at the end. "Where's the rebel, Johnny?" V said. He saw himself in him, the very same passion, the sincerity, the unbridled authentic drive for a noble cause.

It's a mirror to what could've become of Johnny's own heart and feelings if he hadn't left the band, turned against him into another tool of capitalism. At one point, it must have clicked that he couldn't change the world through songs.

It was also the closest he got to glimpsing the reality of his current actions, what he's done to you.

"And you're fucked up because of my fucked up head inside you."

He sat there and made a choice that day, to keep doing it, keep paving this path. If the veil to self-awareness got lifted for a second there, Johnny immediately boarded up the windows with wooden panels the next second.

What difference would one life—yours—make when he's already sacrificed a lot more innocents than you when he first blew up Arasaka tower? Shooting at the innocent and the guilty with willful ignorance.

He knows all the lyrics, but he doesn't understand the words. He'll live and die by the very same notions he never fully deciphered.

Johnny isn't the antagonist because he set out to destroy our lord and savour Capitalism, Johnny is the antagonist because he attempted to dismantle Capitalism using the very same methods of Capitalism.

It's like we're in the trolley problem, and Johnny decided to bomb the whole traintrack. Train, conductor, track, and people tied to the track included. Then he clutches his pearls when a few weeks later, they build a new bigger train and a sturdier track with even more people tied to the track.

You cannot "eradicate entropy" when you're goddamn spreading it yourself in a different flavour Johnny!

His long rehearsed speech about the plague of capitalism at the end of the mission. How the words rhyme, how he stood up to yell it out loud, pacing around and looking down at you. Filer words and abstract descriptions ment to target your heartstrings, to ignite the dormat anger inside your mind in the name of ending some vague injustice.

All very much resembling a speech given by your favourite artist upon a stage, at the end of a glass-shattering song, as you stood there sweaty and unclothed as the day you were born, looking up at him in awe as if he was a god, convinced his words were gospel as the adrenaline still pumped in your veins.

How it almost worked on V who just threw up half the sludge of their brain's viscera on the pavement.

How the irony of how much he was describing his current parasitic self during it, was lost him.

How I fear I am the very same. I play predatory gambling games, I mindlessly buy things I'll never use during sales, I preach and preach but in reality I find myself contradicting the claims I make a lot. By my own standards I don't even come close to meeting the ethical measures I set on others, I wouldn't be friends with me If I knew me.

#Whenever one of my writing blogs gets too popular within the fandom. I stop posting in it and start a new blog #I hope this one doesn't become too popular I hope it continues flying under the radar I genuinely fear the masses #I don't want to make a patron I don't want to opent commissions I don't want to put a single word behind a paywall #I don't want to monetize shit I don't want a website with ads to host my writing I don't want to be taken advantage of #I don't want to make anything off of this I don't even want to turn it into original work #I want it to remain the closest thing to unconditional love I'm capable of #to art #Because that's what art represents to me personally. Unconditional love #To others it can represent different things. I know a lot of people dream of making a comfortable living off of their art and that's fair #Your hard work Your creativity and Your time deserves due respect. This isn't to shit on people who do patrons and coms #This is how I feel about my own art. Not others.#btw I've poured so much of my love and effort into this piece of analysis. Literally worked on it all day then stayed up all night to edit #☆character study #☆cyberpunk #☆Johnny #☆V #☆Joshua

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aemiron-main · 2 years ago

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creelarke and the tunnel scene

So, I’m working on more analysis posts about these two, but this parallel caught my eye today:

They put Scott and Henry in the same place on screen right during their respective lab tunnel scenes- scott and henry are both on screen left when looking at the scene from outside the tunnel, and both are on the same part of screen right when looking at the scene from inside the tunnel.

Scott was also the one who found the piece of hospital gown near the tunnel:

They could’ve chosen any character for this scene- but they chose Scott. Scott, who canonically went to school at the same time as Henry, who happens to have a convenient knowledge of parallel dimensions.

And speaking of the lab- why the hell are there multiple lab-associated extras who look eerily similar to Scott?

There’s also just. Something gnawing at me about the way that Scott stares towards the lab in this shot:

I know part of it is likely due to him possibly having suspicions of Will being in the lab/going through the tunnel, but it’s interesting that they chose to focus on Scott for this shot rather than Hopper in that regard. Almost like it’s about more than Will. Almost like he’s remembering something- or someone.

And also, going back to the fact that Scott and Henry would’ve gone to school together, take a look at this conversation between Scott and Hopper during the search party scene:

They’re talking about shared classes/teachers, (even though hopper and scott didn't go to school in the same years, they seem to have went to the same school And henry and scott Did go to school in the same yars) and also talking about a dead child (Sara)- Henry and Scott would’ve had shared classes, hell, Henry likely had Ms Ratliff specifically, AND, Henry was pronounced dead on site to the public after the Creel murders, even though Victor was somehow made aware of Henry’s coma and that Henry “died,” a week later, when you look at the newspaper articles, it’s said that Henry’s body was found at the Creel house with his eyes gouged out and that Victor was immediately charged with three murders. The public believed that Henry was killed the night of the Creel murders, but what about Scott? What did Scott believe? If him and Henry were friends, did he ever try and visit Victor in prison? Did he think Victor killed Henry? Did he somehow hear about the coma thing the same way that Victor did?

And speaking of bad teachers, not only do we have confirmation that Scott had a bad teacher, but we have the same for Henry, with a teacher calling him "broken".

And also, during that scene, Hopper has his “mummies never die,” line- just like how Henry isn’t dead and likely CAN’T die because of his regenerative healing.

And also “I never needed to look elsewhere.”

“I just didn’t look hard enough.”

Like. The fact that Max frames it as if she disappeared, even though she WAS still physically there, just emotionally distant from Lucas- it’s giving me “Henry disappearing” vibes with the Creel murders, especially considering the Will-Henry parallels and how Mike notices that Will didn’t show up to school on the day that he vanished. I wonder if Scott noticed something similar with Henry.

I wonder if part of why Scott’s helping search for Will is because he had suspicions that Henry wasn’t dead, but never followed through on those suspicions enough/didn’t look hard enough for Henry. Much like how Hopper felt like he didn’t need to look elsewhere. Maybe Scott was so focused on the Creel houses and the weirdness going on there and investigating THAT (after all, it looks like quite a few objects have been moved around in the Creel house since we last saw its interior in 1959) that he didn't even think about the lab/didn't think to look elsewhere.

And then we also have this scene of Scott finding out that Sara was actually dead- the opposite of Henry. Scott was led to believe that Sara was alive but then found out that she was dead, whereas Scott would’ve been led to believe that Henry was dead, but may have somehow figured out that he’s alive/may figure it out in S5.

That last shot where it focuses on Scott is especially interesting to me, because why focus on Scott? Scott and Hopper aren't particularly close, it's not a particularly huge revelation that someone (Hopper) might lie to someone he doesn't know very well (scott, they don't know eachother well, scott introduces himself initially and says he doesn't think they've met before) about his traumatic past/loss of his daughter, so why focus on Scott and his reaction? Why not focus on Hopper and the grief he's feeling in that moment? I think it might be because there's subtext here regarding Sara's death vs Henry's death and Scott having known Henry- and Scott may have been in denial of Henry's death initially because he noticed that things were odd about the Creel murders (the newspapers all have conflicting details, for example), but didn't look hard to resolve it/find Henry, much like how Hopper is in denial of Sara's death, and is now motivated to search for Will (we see Sara mentioned by Joyce in the context of trying to get Hopper to search more for Wiil).

Either way, I just think it’s interesting that we get a scene of Scott and Hopper talking about shared classes and dead children (especially lies about dead children) before a scene of Scott and Henry paralleling eachother. Especially considering the parallels between Will and Henry but also Sara and Henry and Sara's cancer and how Henry's regenerative healing seems to work like cancer. Much to think about. Creelarke real, I can feel it in my bones.

#stranger things #creelarke #scott clarke #henry creel #st analysis #creelarke analysis #scott clarke analysis

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swluminekin · 3 months ago

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Bringing Our Own Hope (We are Warriors of Light/Darkness)

With everything that is going on in the United States right now post election, I've been taking time to reflect and think about things. And what I've noticed a lot currently - and I kind of blame a TikTok I watched for this - is there are parallels to the Shadowbringers expansion of Final Fantasy XIV. I've probably lost y'all, but just... give me some time and I'll explain. It'll make sense.

For those who haven't played but want to, I will be HEAVILY going into spoiler territory. Back out now if you don't want to be spoiled for the expansion.

Everyone gone who wants to be spoiler free? Okay, here we go.

Anyway, for a TL;DR of the game so far before we head into Shadowbringers, the player (as the Warrior of Light) along with your friends - the Scions of the Seventh Dawn - has at this point:

Rejoined the main three city-states of Eorzea

Stopped a group of "counter" heroes from making a mockery of you and your group

Caused for a fourth city-state to join in the alliance

Got blamed for and stopped a coup while at the same time ending a 1000-year man-vs-dragon war

And brought independence to two nations who would become allies to Eorzea

Towards the end of the last part, most members of our group fell unconscious, leaving us as the last. During all of it, we found that we were being called and eventually we did find our way from the Source to the First.

Anyway, while we're on the First, among the chaos that we see in realizing that we have a reflection to save, we see the difference between two leaders.

On the one side, we have the ExArch of the Crystarium. He helped people for nearly a century after The Flood of Light fiasco to just try and survive. We learn later on how he had gotten to the First - it had been a disaster where he was from, but he'd been a point of... hope.

The ExArch was an unwitting leader of the people, gave people a beacon. He cared for the people, helped them to create a life in the world that seemed to want them gone. The people wanted him as king, but he only wanted to be seen as one of them, because he considered himself one of them. They wanted him as a leader so they created his role - the ExArch. He helped with supplying, storing and rebuilding a community; a community of lost souls. When the Scions arrive, he tells and shows them the world of the First. He wants them to understand and see what has happened with everything and everyone. He worked to keep the remaining people of the world safe.

But that led to where one of the Scions was made to go: a place called Kholusia and the city-state of Eulmore. It's a place that looks amazing from a distance but on the outer edge and below, it's slums. And there, is a leader of this place - a leader who lives in opulence and who believes in the separation of those who are lower in status to those who are rich.

His name is Vauthry. When we meet him, we immediately know he's corrupt. He is the (heavily overweight, infantile-like) son of the past leader of Eulmore - a man that the ExArch had been friends with. He surrounds himself with the well-off and makes beggars of those not so much. He basically does a sort of performative charity in the slum areas to show that he's a great guy and deserves to lead the people. And if you didn't do as you were asked/required to do? Well... needless to say, he prided himself on fear as well. He also believed he was a sort of god among men and threw tantrums if things didn't go his way. But there was more as well (I'll get to that in a minute).

The ExArch tried to get along with Vauthry, but they didn't agree on what should be done and how. They both wanted to save the people of the First. However, their methods differed by leaps and bounds. Vauthry only wanted the well to do to be saved. They had money and because of that nothing else mattered and they could buy their way into the lives of the poor. The ExArch, on the other hand, found a way to lead the people in a way that the people became self-sufficient. He led with compassion and kindness, believing that everyone deserved a chance to live.

Going through this election cycle brought forward a lot of things and watching it was strange because I hadn't realized it yet. It wasn't until a TikTok video pointed out that "America really voted in a Vauthry" that I understood what I was seeing. The comparisons between Trump and Vauthry are insanely staggering.

Vauthry/Trump are extremely rich

Vauthry/Trump prefer the rich over the poor and tax/hurt those with less money in order to widen the gap

Vauthry/Trump do performative charities to their own benefit

Vauthry/Trump have shadow organizations running the show in the background

Oh... You saw that last one?

Much like Trump has several people from the National Heritage Foundation (a Christian Nationalist Conservative "think tank") in place for when he takes office (including his Vice Presidential pick, J.D. Vance), Vauthry was supported by his own shadow group.

Taking a step back to what I said about Vauthry believing himself a god among men (which, let's be honest, Trump pretty much blatantly infers this of himself on the daily), he actually wasn't wrong... to a degree. You see, while he is able to solve certain problems, he is also the cause of them. This being because when he was conceived/born, he was given a power by a group we know want the destruction of our home because they wanted things to go back to the way they were. Sound familiar? It should. The Ascians wanted to return the Source and its reflections back to how it was during their time. They thought of the current man as less than a person ("I do not consider you truly alive. Ergo, I will not be guilty of m*rder if I k*ll you." -Emet-Selch). Once again, sound familiar?

So as we go through the First, we meet the various peoples - many familiar in appearance, while others have changed in some way. In this world that is covered in never ending light, we change our moniker from Warrior of Light to Warrior of Darkness. That being said, we never fully change our position, we're just going under a different name since the last WoL wasn't exactly looked highly upon in their end. (Remember that group who were trying to make a mockery of us? Needless to say, they'd been misguided and brought to the source under false pretenses.) As we make our way through the world and defeat the enemy leaders, we become a beacon of hope ourselves as we bring the night back to the world. Not only that, but even the ExArch believes in us more and finds a way to help with getting the people of Eulmore to break themselves free of the corruption of Vauthry - we and our fellow Scion already having planted a seed of change within the people there during our earlier visits.

That said, as we go through the story, we do see the ExArch faulter. We see him question himself. We see him doubt if he'd done things right. But as he does, he looks to his people and sees their work and their hope. He watches us and the Scions as we go through our trials, our battles. He watches as each enemy leader falls at our hand as we fight corruption and knows what he must do. He's always known, but he didn't really know the how or when until we arrived and did what we could. He led as he followed and followed as he led. He knew what we represented and who we were.

For as much as the ExArch was a leader of the people, he was also someone who believed in the people as well. He believed in us and our team. The people of the Crystarium. Honestly, he believed in the people of the First. For even in the more dire of times, he knew what could be done and who could do it. Because the ExArch believed in the people as much as they believed in him. He was able to give hope and peace of mind rather than doubt and fear.

That's why, in all truth and honesty, I believe that the Crystal ExArch's role could be filled by Kamala.

So, why the title? Because when it comes down to it, we as voters? Are the player. We as voters are the Warrior of Light (or in the case of the First, Warrior of Darkness). We are the ones who can make the change. But now that the votes have been cast and our world's Vauthry and Ascians have (at least temporarily) won, it's time to take up the banners and ready ourselves for the next set of battles.

They won't be easy - anyone who's played as a WoL in Final Fantasy XIV knows that the grind is difficult. But let me remind you of a question:

When has fighting for peace, hope, and survival ever been easy? To quote the ExArch himself:

"To take action is to hope. To believe - to choose to believe - is to take the first step for towards a brighter future." ... "For in times of hardship, when you fear you cannot go on... The joy you have known, the pain you have felt, the prayers that you've whispered and answered - they shall ever be your strength and comfort."

We are Warriors of Light/Darkness. It's time to step up and make the world better.

#final fantasy 14 #ffxiv #warrior of light #warrior of darkness #crystal exarch #Lord Vauthry #kamala harris #donald trump #2024 presidential election #Final Fantasy XIV Shadowbringers #comparisons #just a thought

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bromcommie · 8 months ago

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🤡 ✅ for the writer asks!

Hi hii, thanks for the ask! :) ✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

Hm. I feel like I haven't posted enough writing for this to be nearly as relevant as it should lol, but: dream sequences, for sure. Humor, sometimes, even if I’m writing something heavy. And I feel like I tend to come back to mythology a lot. Or maybe not mythology specifically so much as storytelling done within the confines of the story in general? Like as thinly veiled parallels for the characters and what they're going through, sure, but also maybe even more so I find interesting just how different characters might tell, or interpret, different stories. Or what the stories they choose to tell or pay attention to are and why - about their own life or those that stick with them. The stories they tell themselves vs. others. It's also kind of an exposition crutch sometimes, so I've been trying to tone it down or reshape it in certain instances, but yeah.

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

This is an unfinished scene that really doesn’t contain any kind of serious characterization nor historical accuracy. But consider: it's funny to me personally. So who cares. Absolute crack below the cut if you’re interested:

“I am going,” Barnes is hollering from somewhere when Gabe jolts back into consciousness with his face a mere foot from the crackling fire, sweaty and confused, “to kick the shit out of you, Rogers! I’m gonna—“ the rest of the threat gets abruptly cut off when he hits the ground with a heavy thud, all the air knocked out of him. Gabe blinks.

There's gotta be a nicer word for the way Rogers grins with his knees locked around Barnes’ torso, he thinks, other than feral.

“Yeah? Lemme see you follow it through, motherfucker. Lemme see you try.”

Gabe scans their little circle: all of them still battered or bored or battling a variety of illness, and all of them distinctly disinterested in the chaos happening not fifteen feet away.

Whatever the ruckus is, an emergency it ain’t. He stretches with a soul-deep yawn, cocking his head in the direction of the noise. “What’s all that for?”

“Maman et papa se disputent,” Dernier points out flatly from his place across from him, frowning down at the stack of cards precariously towering by Morita’s knee. With a flick of a wrist he throws a card out from his noticeably smaller deck and tuts when Morita immediately trumps it and swipes both cards off the damp log-turned-table. “Ah, putain.”

“Yeah no shit, I can see that. What about?”

Dernier shrugs. “Who se fuck knows. Se mistress?”

Morita lets out an undignified giggle. Gabe squints at the sweaty back of his neck, then down at the conspicuously unlabeled, conspicuously empty bottle by his feet.

“Are y’all drunk?” He glances at the blurry mess of limbs tumbling in the dark. “Are they drunk?”

“Who can tell at this point.”

Gabe watches the two indiscernible shapes in the flickering light that reaches further into the grassy field. There also has to be a better phrase for the mud-covered state they’re both in other than pigs in a pen, but it’s escaping him at the moment.

“What happened to them?”

“Sarge went out to check that house we saw on the way and get firewood. Steve went after him,” Dugan elaborates with a resigned expression, his words running together a little. “Came back looking like two prissy cats the flood just spat out. Something about a mudslide and whose fault it was.” He reaches behind him to pull out a miraculously still only half-empty bottle and tip it his way. “Rogers found us some French brandy, though. It’s shit, of course, but that was awfully nice of him.”

Gabe sits up to accept the bottle, plucking a stray twig out of his hair with a grimace along the way. “Where’d he get that?”

Dugan shrugs. “From a Frenchman, I imagine.”

“All very lovely, except then I believe there was a, uh—” Falsworth jumps in from where he’s propped up on what's left of a nearby fence, nursing his half-empty pipe and an even emptier expression. “Disagreement, if you will, over—“

“Gorizia," Dugan and Morita chorus in unison. Dugan trails off into a mumbled sing-song that Gabe’s pretty sure doesn’t contain any actual words, nor much mention of Gorizia itself.

"Gorizia, yes, and the bullshit with the—“

Gabe groans. "The goddamn barn? Still?"

"Yep. Cap's not letting that one go anytime soon.”

“Oh, and Rogers being a wiseass to Philips when he wanted to bench him last week, don’t forget that," Morita croaks, voice rusted over with the cold but otherwise relaxed. Dernier curses under his breath when his last card lands and digs into his pocket with an expression of a man at his utmost limit. "Or getting his fool ass shot in the first place. One of those."

“—Rogers’ fool arse, yes yes, that too,” Falsworth continues, “which, as you can imagine, didn’t take too kindly to the, uh, constructive criticism. Then Barnes called him an unreasonable fuck so he,” he points with the pipe at where Rogers has Barnes in a headlock, “naturally, brought up something from oh, ten years ago? Ten years ago. That’s about when Barnes tried to tackle him, by the way. And then they started shouting about someone called John — Jimmy—“ He turns to Morita with a series of sluggish finger snaps.

"Jackie Van Wijk," Morita provides helpfully, plucking the stubby cigarette out of Dernier's grudging hand with little sympathy and sticking it behind his ear. "How are you so bad at this? You ran a gambling hall."

"Yes, for poker." Dernier downs the bottom of his cup and grimaces with distaste. "Chemin de fer. Not — children games."

"Jackie Van Wijk, that's right," Falsworth finishes. "And somebody else’s sister who might or might not have been a prostitute, that part’s unclear. I think that about brings us up to now.”

"Are you—" Gabe tries, and fails. "I can't tell if you're fucking with me. How long was I asleep?"

“Oh, about 45 minutes. And you forgot the thing with the coppers,” Dugan mutters over his cup, checking his watch like he's bored out of his skull and has somewhere, anywhere else to be. “And the three dollars.”

“Ah, yes. Sarge owes Rogers three dollars.” Falsworth observes them quizzically for a moment, chewing on the pipe. “Or the other way around, I can’t be too sure.”

“She was a hooker, idiot!” Bucky’s voice carries over again as he uselessly tries to pry Rogers’ hand away from where it’s digging into the side of his face. Gabe can’t tell if he’s laughing or if he’s choked on enough mud by now that it’s permanently affected his speech. “What were you gonna —“

“So what, huh? It was Sands Street, so fucking what, everyone’s a hooker on Sands — I had two more drinks, I coulda been a hooker myself —“

“Are you hearing yourself? Do you ever — stay still, you fuckin’ — do you ever hear the words that come out of your mouth?”

"Y'know," Dugan muses, "if I'd wanted to hear alley cats going at each other all hours of the night, I woulda just stayed in Boston."

"Shut the fuck up, like we don't all know you got the draft."

“Gossip," Dugan protests. “Downright slander.” He whacks Morita's shoulder with probably more force than is strictly necessary. "Hey. Gimme a puff."

"Blow me, Aloysius." It comes out in four parts, vowels dragged out kicking and screaming: Ay-low-see-yus.

Absently, Gabe wonders how much of it is the actual brandy and how much might be a concussion from this morning.

"Sure I will, if you gimme a puff."

Somewhere in the distance, Rogers swears loudly. Barnes cackles.

Gabe stares at them. It really is like being back home, in a way: two of his younger brothers making an awful ruckus first thing in the morning and waking the whole house up over the grand total of jack shit, seemingly hellbent on inflicting as much damage to each other and the surrounding landscape without anyone actually ending up in the hospital. Usually, Gabe’d be the designated first responder in breaking it up, more often than not because he was the only one actually willing to risk getting between them physically. It’d earned him a bump on the head and the grousing nickname “St. Gabriel” more than once.

Jesus, he’s homesick.

He looks back to Falsworth. “So, what, it got so bad they fighting over a girl now?”

“No,” Morita sighs with all the gravity of the long-suffering, voice raising in volume and cracking a little as he turns to look at them over his shoulder. “They’re fighting because they’re two five-year-old fucking morons who are gonna land us in so much shit we’ll be wishing for goddamn latrine duty. Hey,” he shouts over the noise when they both completely ignore him, “Hey! Abbott and Costello — with all due respect, sirs, shut the fuck up.”

“Should we…do something?”

“Hey, you hear that? War’s over! We all take turns pissing on Hitler’s ball-less corpse and then they ship us back!” It falls on deaf ears. Morita throws his hands up. “See? Be my fucking guest.”

“How long before they tire themselves out, d’you think?” Falsworth muses.

“I dunno,” Dugan says with resignation. “Cap is still pretty keyed up from today and I think Barnes runs on pure spite alone at this point, so. An hour? Two?”

They watch the graceless grappling slow for a hopeful moment before Rogers mutters something unflattering about Barnes’ mother and Barnes snorts like an enraged bull, throwing him off.

Morita laughs, the sound quickly derailing into a rattling cough. “That man got a congressional medal last month. Stroke of tactical genius, they said.”

“Yes well apparently out of the two of them, Barnes used to be the voice of reason. See how much that tells you,” Falsworth comments. Dugan’s eyes bug a little.

“Reasonable? Barnes? Sergeant I’m gonna mouth off to the guy with the big stick until he decides to crack a rib or two Barnes? That one?”

“I never said it was a good assessment,” Falsworth replies sedately as the man in question finally gets the upper hand and sends Rogers toppling headfirst into the muck. “It is quite possible, of course, that they have both just lost their damn minds.”

A sage nod ripples through the rest of them. In all honesty, it has been that kind of week. Gabe would be buzzing hard himself if he weren’t so goddamn tired he could feel every single one of his bones rattling around in his body like dice in a tin cup.

“That’s great,” Morita drawls around his smoke. “That’s just dandy. I die dropping into Holland next week, I want my affairs dealt with well, you hear me? I want my tombstone to read: I died for my fellow man, and because my fellow man and CO lost their — Dugan, I swear to Christ, you try to take it one more time I’m putting it out in your ear — lost their marbles at the worst possible time. Over Jackie Van fucking Whoever, no less.” He nods grimly at the clearing. “And then I want those two assholes to pay for the arrangements.”

“We will do our best, mon ami,” Dernier says, passing him the reshuffled deck with a sympathetic hand like an olive branch. “But we will probably also be dead.”

#asks #ask game #one-eyed-bossman #tbh forgot about this one. this was a lot of fun so thank you!!#my fic #snippet #howling commandos #stevebucky

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amelikos · 1 year ago

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It seems like they started building a connection between Dot and Spinel's characters in the recent episodes. I wonder if we'll just see it in this arc, or if it will be a recurring thing.

Beyond their similarities such as them both mostly operating from their rooms and barely leaving them or changing hairstyles depending on their modes (Dot changing hairstyle before making videos as Gurumin, and Spinel tying his hair when he goes outside and wants to blend in), they are also tech savvy and seem reclusive.

Dot is the one who noticed that the communications seemed cut off in HZ012 which led to Friede finding out that Spinel's Rarecoil was jamming the signal. This week's episode (HZ015) also had Dot and Spinel fighting on the tech front. In order to find Liko, Dot looked for info online and found reports of sightings of Liko and Nyahoja. Except the info was fake and made up by Spinel so he could distract the Rising Volt Tacklers and buy time. Dot eventually realized it and tries to think of a way to find real info, so she gets the idea of making a collab with Nanjamo to find Liko, which eventually makes her confirm that Liko is in Hakkou City. So she is thwarting Spinel on this front.

At the end of the episode, Roy and Dot find Liko and Dot as Gurumin seems to send a specific message to Spinel, as she says that they all won't lose to anyone as long as they work together. Nanjamo even points it out, as she wonders who Gurumin thinks she is fighting against.

Spinel was watching the collab between Gurumin and Nanjamo and he actually acknowledges Dot. That seems significant to me (as Spinel doesn't hand out acknowledgment just like that).

Compared to the way he considered Friede in the previous episode ("so that's all you're capable of"), this is the first time Spinel directly acknowledges someone from the crew, and it's Dot since this whole collab thing was her idea in the first place.

In the first place, Dot rarely leaves her room and it's Spinel's actions that were the incentive for it. Dot had a personal resentment against Spinel in the episode as she says she can't forgive someone tricking her and her friends (she openly calls the Rising Volt Tacklers her friends, and I think it's the first time she does in the series).

Dot also seemed to try to think from Spinel's perspective as to why he didn't flee immediately after getting the pendant when Friede brought it up, so she came to the conclusion that he was probably stalling for time.

She also seemed to have a much more personal reaction to the reveal that Spinel used Orbem to alter Liko's memories to steal the pendant.

Taking all of this into account, and the fact that Dot's first onscreen battle will apparently be against Spinel's Pokemon given the preview for next week's episode, I feel like it could be interesting if these two characters impacted each other throughout the story.

Dot is very knowledgeable about Pokemon (since she makes a lot of videos about them as Gurumin), and Friede said in HZ007 that she can be strict on trainers, so I wonder if she has some experience battling? Either way, I think her wits will come in handy against Spinel. And given the way running away is a valid alternative in HZ, she doesn't exactly have to win against him in their battle, she could just break the communication devices Spinel uses to battle remotely which would end the battle this way or force Spinel to come out.

Either way, I just think it's interesting. Narratively speaking, Spinel's introduction and acting as an antagonist coincides with Dot's arc of opening up and meeting Liko and Roy. It also seems like next episode will be an important step for Dot and Kuwassu (officially becoming partners if they aren't yet and having their potential first battle together?), so all these character moments are happening in parallel to Spinel's character being properly introduced.

It makes me wonder if they are setting up Explorers members to be opposed to the kids. So far, we have Liko and Amethio. Now, we have Dot and Spinel. Perhaps eventually, we'll get someone opposed to Roy? I wonder if this will be the Precure kind of thing where characters of the main cast can have specific villains that challenge them and that they are facing and opposing during the story.

#dot #spinel #pokemon spinel #hz015 #character notes #episode notes

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felixcloud6288 · 8 months ago

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Higurashi: Massacre Chapter 14

Keiichi was holding his head high thinking Oyashiro-sama's curse was broken only for Rika to remind him about Oryou. And the mood immediately fell.

I've been looking at how the characters use honorifics and I was primarily looking for things like someone changing the honorifics they give someone to show a change in respect. But what I found instead is Rika isn't using any honorifics for Oryou at all. She and Keiichi both tend to not use honorifics, but Keiichi is opting to use Oryou-san.

It's Friday June 17th now. We're only told Keiichi's group made another appeal but nothing of it is shown. Keiichi later remarks that the Center thought the village council dealt with him so at this point, the Center has likely refused to hear any more appeals.

It's been nearly a year since Shion was forced to pay retribution and she and Mion are still traumatized because of it. It's probably taking every ounce of courage to stand by Keiichi in this.

It's worth noting that neither of them take charge during the discussion. Keiichi was willing to throw insults at Oryou, Rena called out how Oryou's actions have hurt Satoko, and Kimiyoshi pointed out how Satoko has endured everything.

Mion and Shion could only plea to Oryou and were always quickly cowed into submission.

I had a bit of fun comparing the layout of the floormats in the room to see if they're consistent. For the most part they appear to be so, but I did find some inconsistency with where the characters are sitting in relation to them.

In this first image, let's define horizontal to be parallel to the open door and row 1 to be the set of floorboards closest to the door. So the width of a row would be the width of the floorboard as well. Notice how Kimiyoshi is sitting on a floorboard in row 3. And the whole group are sitting where two floorboards are touching each other.

In most subsequent room shots, Kimiyoshi is instead sitting on a board in row 2 and everyone is sitting within single floorboards rather than on their borders. In fact, Keiichi's whole group seems to have shifted place somewhat. Kimiyoshi was the one directly in front of Oryou in the first shot, but subsequent shots have Keiichi and Rika directly in front of her instead.

This is the first official introduction to Mion and Shion's parents. We've seen Akane in Eye Opening chapters 6 and 7, but she was never referred to by name. She is also shown and named in Beyond Midnight chapter 11.

I do wonder what was going through Oryou's head during this conversation. She is someone with great authority and influence. I would say she's opening by trying to be reasonable. If Satoko is not in immediate danger, then Oryou shouldn't mobilize over this and Satoko should be handled by the Center instead.

I'm kind of intrigued by how Akane is the one to bring up the Sonozaki/Hojo feud. Everyone agrees that is the reason Oryou isn't willing to help but she isn't outright saying it, probably to not appear petty. And every time the conversation gets sidetracked, Akane brings it back to how the feud can be resolved while letting everyone save face.

It seems counter-productive to insult Oryou at every opportunity, but Keiichi is making it clear that he will not be intimidated by her. At this point, the village is on his side. He needs to stand his ground against her. And if Oryou actually retaliates against Keiichi for any of his threats or insults, she loses because she's going to reveal herself to be the petty old bat Keiichi says she is.

Still, that was wildly bold of him to say he'll kill her if necessary. And he did not apologize for that. He put down his terms from the start: "Help us or get out of our way."

And when Oryou called Keiichi an outsider, that was her attempting to discredit him in front of everyone. But Keiichi quickly made it clear that he is very much a member of the village and to call him otherwise is a grave insult.

When the matter of restitution came up, Rena took command and demanded that restitution go both ways. Oryou is willing to accept if Satoko apologizes for what her parents did, but she's not nearly as thrilled at the idea of apologizing for what she has done.

Keiichi really struck a nerve when he said he's fighting Oryou to protect his friends. Mion said she doesn't hate Satoko but is just keeping up appearances. Oryou's probably taken a liking to him at that moment.

And at this point, everyone in the room agrees with Keiichi. Oryou is the only holdout. So with Keiichi having made his point and every one else in the Sonozaki group agreeing with him, Keiichi humbly asks Oryou to provide her support in helping Satoko.

And the petty old bat refuses.

As I've said, the Teppei scenario is the most evil scenario. Tragedy is not driven by misunderstandings or paranoia. It is driven by love, friendship, and the desire to protect the people they care about. Keiichi said at the start of negotiations that he would kill Oryou if she refused to cooperate and he's planning to make good on that promise with no regard for the fact that Kasai is pulling out a gun in response.

Oryou is the very last obstacle in the way of saving Satoko, and depending on what happens next, this could end in Keiichi's death.

back

#higurashi no naku koro ni #higurashi no naku koro ni reread #higurashi when they cry

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demon-witch-cat · 2 years ago

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I'm not sure why my brain keeps going back to MyStreet/Minecraft diaries every year, but it does, and here's the first product of it!

It's Garroth from an old AU of mine!

Description and Explanation under cut!

OK! So this is from an old AU that I made originally back in 2018, then revisted and revised in 2020 during quarantine. The basic premise is that when Lucinda was teleporting herself, Kim(though in this i replaced her with Vlad for no reasonother than i liked Vlad more than Kim), and Garroth in that one episode of When Angel's Fall(when they all get found and they have to split up) she accidentally(somehow) teleports Garroth to the MCD universe!

There he wanders around, becoming a guard and trying to find a way back.

He's on his own for the first year, becoming a traveling guard and wandering from village to village going by the name Griffin(b/c he learned the hard way that this was an alternate universe and that Okasis is after his counter part). He ends up hearing about how a town named Phoenix Drop needs more guards temporarily until an issue with a shadow knight is resolved(when Laurence randomly appeared then disappeared). From there on, he's a 'main' character in the mcd season one story!

He doesn't tell anyone he's a werewolf right away though, instead choosing to keep the hood of his guard outfit up(parallels to mcd!garroth that definitely doesn't go unrealized by Griffin). The reason for this is slightly shown in my other two sketches.

In this sketch, Griffin is running from a village/mob(group of people) after they discover he's a werewolf. See, during his first year in mcd, he experienced a lot of discrimination for being a werewolf(b/c werewolf discrimination was way worse in mcd). The whole reason hes a "traveling" guard(besides the fact that hes looking for a way back home) is because he keeps getting run out of villages or someone gets close to learningthe truth and he gets scared and runs away before anything happens. He tries to hide the fact that he was a werewolf, but it was hard since there wasn't any real time between him becoming a werewolf and him being transported to the mcd universe for Aaron and Melissa to properly teach him to hide his ears and tail to blend in with humans(hence the hood).

This sketch is when he gets his second scar(both are from his time traveling in the mcd universe). A fellow guard saw his ears and tail and immediately attacked, causing a big enough scene that the villagers around them noticed too, and started yelling.

As I'm sure you can guess, hes got a lot of his self confidence issues from mystreet s1 back(this includes his stutter). Despite everything though, he's still the same big hearted goofy he is in Mystreet. Just a bit more cautious.

Anyways! If you made it this far, good job! You deserve a cookie for reading my rambling about an au for an old minecraft rp!

#minecraft diaries #mystreet #mcd au #mystreet au #mystreet garroth #mystreet x minecraft diaries #garroth is so goofy #i thought he'd make mcd more interesting #also give mcd Laurence a best friend that doesn’t betray him over an illusion

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bekaroth-reads · 2 years ago

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Silco x Reader 6

[Listen, when I said that there wouldn’t be as much time between the last chapter and this one, I wasn’t expecting to just sit there and hammer it out in like a day, but guess what happened? No need to delay posting it if it’s already done, so here you go.]

By the time the two of you had gotten back to the Last Drop, Silco could see just how fragile you were right now. You were still keeping yourself upright, but just barely, your legs buckling more and more the longer you walked. He was surprised when you actually made it back into the club and up the stairs. For the time being, he took you to his room. Silco had no plans on keeping you there, but it was the only place here where he could take stock of your person with minimal interruptions. His shoulders were tensing in complaint by the time he had dragged you to his bed. You managed to stay propped up long enough to get his coat from around you; brand new and if he couldn’t get the smell of char and grime out of it then you’ll have ruined this one as well.

Patching you up wasn’t something that Silco was keen on doing himself, but he would be damned if he asked someone else to do it; he wouldn’t want anyone to think that he was going soft or worse apologizing to you by getting you an actual doctor. Besides, from the looks of things there wasn’t anything that he couldn’t handle, so why pay for the process? Retrieving things from his bathroom, many of which were given for him to use on himself, Silco planned out his itinerary for getting you livable and out of his personal space in the shortest time feasible. The first thing was that he needed to get some clean clothes for you. Aside from the immediate need of cleaning all injuries and keeping them from further contamination from the things you were currently wearing, he was also insistent that if you would be stuck here while you were regaining your strength, he would not have someone, no matter how doomed they were, be associated with him or his property and look filthy. He would have to get you something of your own tomorrow, but for the evening he would have to lend you something of his.

You were still conscious enough to move certain ways when he needed you to, but dazed enough to not cause too much of a fuss about things which was ideal as things were awkward enough without you both being aware of how intimate this was for unfriendly acquaintances. Silco did his best to be unattached to his actions, though he did find some pleasure in how you would squirm and whimper when he would disinfect the scapes and gashes around your body. Eventually, you were patched up and in one of his shirts which didn’t fit you quite right, but it covered enough and would have to do for now. Silco caught sight of your busted and bruised eye, and couldn’t help but look it over again. It didn’t seem like there would be any permanent damage to it, certainly nothing like his. Yet, the parallels seemed to call to him in some way, almost lure him. He reached up and with a gentler hand than he had ever shown you, ran his fingers along the damage on your sleeping face.

Then his door busted open.

There was only one person that entered this room so brazenly. And, now that Silco realized how odd this whole thing truly was raced to think of an explanation for his daughter. “Hey! Silco! I- oh, wait! I forgot to knock!” Jinx scolded herself before leaving the room. It didn’t seem like she saw you, and Silco planned on telling her to wait a bit before she came back in so he could figure out where to dump your unconscious body that didn’t bring more questions than he was up for answering at the moment. Unfortunately for him, Jinx only remembered half of her manners and came right back in after knocking. “So, I was wondering…” she trailed off when she notice you on the bed and it took a moment to process who it was with how bruised you were.

“You found them!” Jinx exclaimed as she rushed over to you. Silco noted that you really must have outdone yourself with all that running earlier as you didn’t even budge at how loud the girl had just yelled. “That's what I was going to ask you about. They didn’t just leave like you thought! I knew they wouldn’t leave me! But…” she trailed off again when she noticed how hurt you were. “What happened? Are they alright?” Silco hated the sound of distress in Jinx’s voice when she asked that. “I’m certain they will be fine.” He assured her, “As for what happened, I…couldn’t say.”

This didn’t seem to quell all her questions like he hoped it would. “Oh, okay. But, where have they been? And, how did they get here? And, why like, here here? I mean why did they pop up in your room out of the whole-“ Jinx’s whole demeanor suddenly shifted as she cast a suspecting squint to Silco, then to you, then back at Silco. He heaved a bothered sigh as he knew that she was onto him. Jinx could be a bit spacey at times but was by no means a stupid kid. She must be piecing together the facts and realizing that Silco must have been responsible for the injuries. An angry Jinx wasn’t something that he couldn’t handle; he simply didn’t have the energy to want to at the moment. “Is this like what we talked about a few months ago?” She asked almost cautiously as she was still feeling out the situation. This confused Silco as all of this with him and you started about one month ago and not two. Either Jinx’s time comprehension was very off or they were thinking of two different talks entirely.

“Are you having one of those, ‘adult sleepovers?’”

Slico’s face started to turn as red as his shirt. There wasn’t much that could fluster him, but the blunt accusations of an eleven-year-old seemed to do it. “Of we aren’t!” He hissed, but she wasn’t buying it. “Yeah-huh! Because when I saw that lady leaving Sevika’s room that one day and I asked you why you were so upset, you said it was because sometimes adults have sleepovers to sleep in the same bed!” She accused as she pointed to where you were. “Jinx, there’s been a misunderstanding-“

“And Sevika was keeping it a secret from you. And, you were trying to keep this a secret from me, so that’s the same thing!” Jinx kept adding to her evidence. “Listen to me. That is absolutely not what was happening here.” Silco went to explain with something, anything to change the narrative she had made only to be interrupted again. “It is too! And, I can prove it!” Jinx was more than confident in her sleuthing skills and had the ultimate bit of information to back her claims up. “Jinx, there is nothing to prove here,” Silco argued. “Yes, there is! When the lady left the sleepover with Sevika she was wearing one of her shirts. And, they’re wearing one of yours right now. So, that’s totally what’s happening!”

“Jinx- just-“ Silco cut himself off with a growl before regaining his composure enough to finish a thought, “That…thing that I told you about is more complicated than what I explained to you back then and completely and utterly different from what has happened between them and me. There’s much more happening in the first scenario then them simply being asleep here.” He tried to smooth things over as best he could and solidified that feeling to himself by smoothing down his hair. “More stuff? Like what?” Jinx asked genuinely curious and distracted from her accusations. Silco pinched the bridge of his nose as the rest of his face grimaced, eyes screwing shut in an attempt to block out some of the mental clutter. “We are not having that talk for a long while.” The night had already taken a turn for the miserable, and he wasn’t going to be adding one of the most awkward conversations in all of parenthood on top of that.

Jinx still didn’t seem like she was totally buying this, but went along with Silco anyway, though not without question. “Okay, then what are they doing here then?” She asked. He gave another exasperated sigh mixed with a relieved one as he went to give an actual yet still partial answer. “I found them coming from the storeroom. It looked like they hadn’t had much luck after their store burned down and sneaked in here for some reason or another. I caught them as they were leaving; in quite the hurry I might add.” This seemed to confuse Jinx even more. “Why would they break in the back just to leave?”

Now that Silco thought about it, that didn’t make any sense. You hadn’t taken anything; gods know that he would have found it when he was cleaning you up. There was also something odd about the way that you were exactly as you were the last time that he saw you. Even if all of the things you currently owned were burned, there would have been some way for you to at least get different clothes by this point. Thinking back to that night, Silco could remember only bits and pieces after his panic attack. But, the only thing he could remember in regards to you was Sevika saying that she would keep an eye on you so that you could be easily gotten to when he was ready to meet again. Other than that he didn’t say anything else as he didn’t want to confirm his moment of weakness to her by admitting that he was in mental and emotional distress. Regardless of that fact, if there was someone that should know what was going on it would be Sevika, and Silco planned on getting all she knew before this night was over.

Like she could tell he was thinking about her, there was a firm knock at his door. When he beckoned the new arrival to come in, it was indeed Sevika, a very nervous-looking Sevika. “Boss, I’m sorry to bother you here, but there’s a pretty big problem.” She was hesitant to continue but didn’t have to as she saw you passed out on the bed. “It seems that I have discovered it and taken means to rectify it long before you told me. Isn’t that right?” He nodded to you and noticed her throat tense with a gulp. “Y-yeah. You see-“

“Spare me the finer details until later. But, I will expect to hear them.” Silco scolded sternly. While he wanted to know what was going on, he didn’t want to risk Jinx finding out about his involvement by discussing it with her in the room. “For now, take this one to one of the empty rooms. Doesn’t matter which as long as it’s far enough away from the office. Make sure that the conditions are livable but not elaborate. We don’t need anyone getting too attached.” There was a sideways glance at Jinx with the last part. She didn’t notice the disdainful undertone of it as she was too excited to have you staying here in any capacity.

Sevika nodded and picked you up. A bouncy Jinx followed close behind her and almost sang, “Oh, boy! It will be like an actual sleepover now!” A confused Sevika questioned, “An actual one? Instead of what?” Silco quickly leaned his head out of the door and chided, “Jinx! Absolutely not!” The girl knew what he was implying and gave a deflated, “Doesn’t matter,” before the two of them turned a corner to head towards the few empty rooms on the upper floor.

As for Silco, he shambled his way to his bathroom to dig around in his medicine cabinet. This place was becoming a circus and he had a terrible headache because of it. Once he had taken some pain medicine, he made sure the main door was closed and practically fell onto his bed. While he was lying there trying to will himself to sleep, he couldn’t help but look over to the place where you had been. It felt strangely more empty since he had seen someone there; a feeling that he had never thought of the space before. It was almost as if he could still picture you there now- like he could sense you next to him from just the ruffled blanket and dented pillow alone. He would have to remember to get his bedding laundered tomorrow to be rid of the horrid sensation.

#silco x reader #reader x silco #silco arcane

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cass1x1 · 2 years ago

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💋 (wyn/julian)

send “💋” for four times my muse thought about kissing yours, and the one time they actually did.

one

It should have come as no surprise to Wynter when she found her eyes flicking to Julian's lips. She had, after all, been slowly building to this. Noticing how tall he was. Observing his face, its symmetry. Lingering on him when he wasn't looking at her. Wynter may be bad at talking about her feelings, but she knew a crush when she was starting to feel one.

It wasn't a terribly inopportune time to be staring at his lips. Julian was so focused on his textbook--he must be the only person Wynter knew who actually read the assigned textbook reading instead of skimming it--that she could've stripped naked and begun doing backflips on the table, and he only would've noticed if it actually moved the table itself. He was very intent.

Unfortunately for Wyn, his intensity made him rather attractive. She didn't like thinking of him this way, but there was no way she could not. Not when he had his lips pursed just so, and she knew that if she leaned in--

Wyn closed her book a little more harshly than perhaps she should've, and to her surprise, Julian's eyes flicked up and met hers. She looked away immediately, mumbled something about being bored, and left.

two

It was a little cramped in the kitchen. Wyn still hadn't acclimated to a cooking experience that involved more than just herself. Her mom was so rarely home during dinner prep, and though she enjoyed and resented Julian's help in equal measure, she had to admit part of the problem was simply that she was not used to anyone else.

So when she crashed into him as often as she did, she knew it was at least that it was partially her fault. Partially his, but partially hers. This time, she saw it coming, so she could stop up short, rather than literally collide with him.

"Whoa," they both said at the same time, which was its own sort of embarrassing. And for a moment, they froze like that. Julian, she suspected, because he was embarrassed, and sometimes it seemed to her like he was ashamed of his feelings.

Wyn froze because he was so close. It wasn't just that she knew she could reach out and touch him. She could smell him, feel the warmth from his body. Hear him breathing. She looked up at him, and it was like for a second she could see a parallel timeline. One in which they were so slightly different from how they were, and she could just push herself onto her toes, and he would bend his head down to meet her, and their lips would brush casually as they passed each other in the kitchen.

Julian stepped back first, and his movement shocked Wyn into mirroring it. "Sorry," he muttered. She nodded, and slid passed him trying to shake off the feeling that that image had given her.

three

Adrenaline had this way of sharpening Julian's features, or perhaps Wynter's awareness of them. She resented him so much in that moment. His stupid dark eyes and the way that they lit up when he was animated. His broad shoulders, and the way they moved up and down when his breathing was faster. The way she noticed his eyes and his breathing when she was mad at him in the first place.

He'd called her irrational, which she didn't like either, but she had to admit, the urge she had to just corner him and kiss him until either she had her wits back, or he lost his. It was as aggravating as it was tempting to think about. She wasn't going to do it--of course--but she didn't thing there was anything wrong with wanting to.

"You're infuriating," he groaned, turning away from her, offering some relief from the workings of her imagination.

"I could say the same to you." She put her hands on her head, as if she could give herself enough pressure to squeeze the feelings out of her.

four

It was the kind of late that made Wynter feel liminal. As though nothing was real and nothing counted. It left her with only a warm comfort, knowing that nothing she did at this hour really meant anything. Like being on vacation in another city, or borrowing books from the library. She could enjoy the feeling and know it didn't affect the "real" her, the person she was when it was a normal hour.

Julian sighed and pressed his lips together. He was tired too; she could tell. She'd been watching him closer for the last few weeks, marking little details about him, trying to notice some secret something about him that she couldn't name. "You ok?" she asked, because she didn't see whatever she'd expected to find.

He stared at her for a moment, like maybe he was searching for the same thing she was, and Wyn's heart jumped. After a moment, he looked away, so she did too. "Yeah," he said, so softly she almost didn't hear it. "Yeah, it's nothing."

Wynter almost asked. When they talked like this, it was almost like Julian could be a normal person, a person who could actually have a conversation. But she knew if she did, he might ask her what had been on her mind, and she couldn't answer that. What had been on her mind, the moment he was staring at her, was that she could kiss him. She wanted to kiss him. God help her, she liked him, awake and sleepy, and even if nothing felt like it counted at this hour, she didn't feel like she could do something so big until she had an answer to the question her brain hadn't fully formed. So instead she dropped it, all of it. "Okay," she whispered, leaning against his shoulder.

plus one

When she woke, it wasn't yet truly morning. Wynter could tell the sun would rise soon, from the light just beginning to peek through the window, but it wasn't quite light yet. The only reasonable thing for her to do would be to go back to sleep, and she felt soft enough that it wouldn't even be hard.

Julian had, in his own sleep, pulled her arms tight around his waist. Or perhaps she had wrapped herself tight around him. It felt nice, his cool skin against her warmth. She hoped it felt nice for him too. His shirt was soft against her cheek, the way cotton gets when it's well loved. She took a deep breath in through her nose, and the soap and detergent he used settled into her memory. A wave of affection followed it, and though she did intend to go back to sleep, she felt it coil in her belly, like she wouldn't be able to settle until she did something with it.

Easy enough. Wynter pressed her forehead between his shoulder blades, comfortable there for a moment, before she tilted her head up. She pressed the barest kiss to his back, through his shirt, and cuddled herself closer to him. Hopefully, at least, he felt a little warmer with her there.

#answered #kimsgoeun #otp: wynter x julian #answered memes #ch: wynter #o: julian #these always get so long!!!

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zealouscanonindeer · 2 years ago

Text

12. Prepare to run, Holmes

There was already another cab waiting at the front of the estate by the time we pulled up. I had given Leopold explicit instructions before we'd left to detain anyone who came to the estate and tried to take away any of the decorations, particularly the flower arrangements, until we'd returned. When the butler greeted us at the door, the look of immense relief was evident on his face.

"Mr Holmes... Miss Emily," he said stoically, "You will find in the sitting room two people with whom I expect you will wish to speak. To be honest, sir, I was starting to wonder how much longer you'd be." He stopped suddenly, and glanced at Emily "Miss Emily, what has happened to you?"

"Nothing to worry about, Leopold," she replied with as much of a smile as her swollen lip would allow, "Mr Holmes and I ran into a few difficulties during out investigation."

"It looks as though you were in a fight!"

"We were," she summarised, "Now, I'm sure we don't want to keep our guests waiting, do we, Leopold?"

"Er. No, Miss Emily," said Leopold, caught slightly off-balance by Emily's matter-of-fact response, "Follow me, please."

"And where is Mr Cartwright?" I asked, "I noticed that the family sedan was not in its accustomed position."

Leopold glanced at me mildly; countless years of training allowed the butler to not even betray his exasperation. "The master is away on an errand - and a good thing, too, if I may be so bold - but I expect him to return at any minute."

I sighed. "I would have preferred that he be there for the confrontation - after all, it is his daughter's jewelry that is at stake - but I suppose it cannot be helped. Lead on."

In the sitting room we found the large deliveryman, and a slender six-year old child with overgrown blonde hair, a shirt two sizes too large for him, and an expression of naive innocence upon his face. They both looked up as we entered, and immediately the man's face drew into a frown as he recognised us. It appeared that my last vision of Emily clawing at his face from behind was genuine, as on his left cheek were three parallel scratches, which would have appeared to be nail gouges even had the marks made by the broken nails not been in evidence. "Good afternoon," I said to them in my usual tone, which I expect sounded completely at odds with my costume, "My name is Sherlock Holmes, and this young lady is Miss Emily Cartwright - the woman whose jewelry you took."

The man flinched violently at my accusation, and the boy cowered close to him.

"Now," I continued, "Would you like to explain how it was done, or shall I? One way or another, it makes no difference to me. But to start, I would like to know your names. It makes things so much easier during conversation."

"My name is Arthur McKinley," the man said in a resigned tone, "and this is my son Adam - but I swear to you, we don't know anything about any burglary!"

I saw Emily's eyes flashing with something dangerous during this denial, and I placed a warning hand on her shoulder.

"Shall I refresh your memory then?" I asked in placid rhetoric, "Of course, you may feel free to correct me if I misstep. You may recall, four days ago, acquiring a gold pocket-watch from a stout man with a moustache. In the process of picking his pocket you left behind a diamond bracelet, for reasons which I'm certain you will supply. The following evening, Miss Cartwright here was having her debutante ball, for which her father had hired four service companies - a florist, a caterer, a decorator, and a delivery service to bring it all in. You work for the delivery service, and your son is the apprentice to one of the decorators.

"Whether by coincidence or design, those specific companies - yours and his - were hired. I expect this same combination may be found at the sites of the other burglaries - but I digress. During some preliminary designing of the ball, you were both given ample opportunity to scout out the estate, during which you learned on the dense covering of ivy at the rear face of the house. While the preparations were being made for the ball that evening, young Adam indicated to one of the maids that he needed to use the lavatory. He was taken to the lavatory, from which he squeezed through the window - which, to judge by your frame, young Adam, would not be much of a chore - and climbed up to the window of Miss Cartwright's bedroom, using the ivy like a ladder. A few fibers from his clothing caught on the rough wood of the window-frame, and I should not be surprised if his had gotten a splinter or two during the process." I took note of the way the boy presently tucked his hands under the folds of his sleeves.

"As the wind during the rainstorm was coming from the west that night, the same direction the house faces, the boy did not get wet during his climb, nor would anyone expect him to have left any puddles on the sill or the in the room inside. Once he got to the sill, though, he was forced to wait, as Mrs Weaver was still inside the room, finishing laying out Miss Cartwright's clothing and jewelry for the ball. I cannot be certain if Miss Cartwright herself was still there, but the matter is immaterial, as she would have been leaving shortly to have her bath.

"It is difficult enough to notice through the sheer curtains a man-sized figure in the window during the daytime when one is not expecting one, let alone a small child in the evening. Thus Adam had an ideal opportunity to see where the key to the jewelry-box would be hidden after Mrs Weaver finished selecting the jewelry for the ball. Though the window had been closed to keep out the rain, I do not think it was locked, as the sash and the latch showed no signs of tampering. So, all the boy had to do was open the window and climb inside. He got the key from its hiding-place and opened the jewelry-box. He had on him the pocket-watch I mentioned earlier, which he left in exchange for the jewelry. Again, I trust you will supply the motive for this curious detail. He filled his pockets with the jewelry, left the watch, and climbed out the way he had come, climbing back down the ivy and back through the window to the lavatory. There he rejoined the maid, who took him back down to the main hall with an airtight alibi." By this point the two on the sofa could see that there was no use in any further denials.

It was a fair trade," said McKinley, "I always left something behind to pay for it, and I taught my boy to do the same. It isn't stealing if you leave something for it."

"A diamond bracelet for a gold watch?" Emily asked sharply, "A gold watch for a boxful of jewelry?"

"Would you have felt better if I hadn't left anything at all?" McKinley demanded, getting to his feet. The boy backed away nervously, fearful in anticipation.

"Sir! Madam! Settle down!" I entreated the both of them, "I said sit down,Mr. McKinley. Your misplaced sense of barter caused an innocent man to be accused of your crime, and I certainly hope your son learns a better trade than burglary in the future."

"Excuse me, sir," Leopold interrupted, "Once the theft was discovered we searched everyone and didn't find the jewelry."

"There is a very good reason for that," I replied, a shade annoyed at the interruption, "Once the theft was discovered, I expect it was difficult to maintain order in the main hall."

"Well, it was a bit chaotic - I couldn't really see for certain, since I was by the door, keeping track of who had come who was on the list, and then keeping the early-comers distinct from the late-comers."

"So nobody would have noticed a small boy stashing away the jewelry somewhere in the crowded main hall, so that he and his father could retrieve it later."

There was a long silence in the sitting room. I always enjoyed moments like this. Finally Emily spoke:

"Well, where is it, then?" she said, slightly spoiling the moment.

"Follow me, all of you. Leopold, I believe those are three officers of the law ringing the bell, do let them in and have them join us in the main hall."

Once my audience - Emily, the suspects, the police, and the butler - were gathered in the main hall, I strolled over to the dining-table and peered discreetly into the large plaster bowl which contained the centrepiece of orchids. The water had mostly evaporated and the flowers were starting to wilt, but otherwise the contents were intact.

To the policemen, I said: "You came just in time. I was about to show Miss Cartwright where the burglars hid her jewelry."

With a sudden flourish I snatched up the bowl of flowers and dropped it on the parquet floor at my feet, where it smashed into fragments. The flowers exploded away from the centre of impact and scattered on the floor, leaving Miss Cartwright's jewelry in plain view.

The report had also summoned the attention of one more player in the story, whose carriage I had heard pulling up shortly after that of the police, and who now urgently elbowed and jostled his way to the front. Mr Cartwright looked at my battered face, then at Emily's, and he turned an interesting shade of crimson as he came to a perfectly understandable but in this case incorrect conclusion. I offered him a tight-lipped smile and prepared to run.

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