#evil blackjack? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

liillyliilly · 6 months ago

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Mercedes-Benz

miya atsumu x reader words; 4467 synopsis; underground racing, she has a slight gambling habit, he drives a sleek black mercedes-benz

Evil incarnate. Satan spawn. Devil’s favorite drug dealer.

Then why was he so delicious?

“Well folks, what we have here today is a game truly unparalleled by any other.”

“Well, Iwaizumi Hajime, I think the level of competition we have here goes beyond just a game.”

“You’re right Miya Osamu, what we have here is a battle of man versus man.”

Miya Osamu burst into laughter, “Oh but Iwaizumi, it’s a battle between boy and woman.”

You didn’t appreciate them narrating your current state of undress. In all fairness, they were also commentating on Atsumu’s lack of fabric entrapments.

Yachi was too busy nursing her heart by downing all the orange juice the Miya’s had in their fridge. Kiyoko was duly scrolling through her phone outside, waiting for you to finish up so she could drive the three of you back to your dorm. Everyone else in the frat house was mad that Suna Rintarou had confiscated all phones before entry into the Inarizaki Phi Alpha mid-term party.

Because of the photos, they would have gotten. Oh, the images of moments they could have captured.

“Hit.” You dealt Atsumu another card from your deck. A seven of spades. Adding that to his nine of hearts, two of diamonds, and four of spades, he had busted. With one measly point above a perfect twenty-one.

He groaned, tugging on his hair and rocking back slightly. You two were sitting cross legged in front of each other, with less clothes on than should have been allowed at the moment.

“You’re such a cheater.”

“Nope. Always bet on the House for a reason ‘Tsumu. You have two options left, your sock or your underwear.”

He threw his sock at your face. You put it on his folded trousers, t-shirt, sweatshirt, other sock, and watch.

He had your top, pants, and one sock. This left you in a bra, underwear, and one sock.

“Listen, Atsumu, it’s in your best interest to not play another round. She still has a sock. You’re screwed. Point-wise, she even started with less clothing than you. Take the punishment.” Miya Osamu carefully advised his brother.

Iwaizumi just scoffed and passed another twenty-dollar bill to Matsukawa. “How’d you know that she would win?”

Matsukawa inhaled, his mango vape on its last leg, “She always beats him in these things, it's almost like she’s cursed him with what I like to call: Boobs Over Boners”

Atsumu shoves his leg back into his pants, and you shimmy back into your shirt. The party quickly dissipated after the two of you shook hands in agreement to end the game.

“I like your white bra better.” He stretched, sitting down on the hardwood floor had dulled his spine and made his back hurt.

“If you won you actually could’ve seen me in it again.”

“Don’t remind me of what I’m missing out on.”

Strip Blackjack was a creation you and he had invented two years ago, it had become an annual event to play it at each mid-term party, so far, you were leading in wins with four and he had one.

This time he had put seven minutes in heaven on the line, you put his brand new Mercedes-Benz on the line. You weren’t going to take his car from him, he would just become your chauffeur for the foreseeable future.

You told Yachi she could head back with Kiyoko, you had gotten a sweeter ride. Kiyoko rolled her eyes and put her hand on your arm. “Don’t wait up, I have some plans.”

“It’s already midnight, what more could you need to accomplish?”

“The fun’s only starting. I have five more hours of entertainment awaiting me.”

“When you get sick, I’ll have the medicine cabinet ready for you.” You hugged Kiyoko as she pulled Yachi away from a Health Science major who had been lurking around.

The Benz life was something you could get used to. A sleek black finish, rich leather, and seat warmers. Atsumu grabbed his water bottle before meeting you in the parking lot.

Leaning back on the front of the car, your back was supported by the hood of his Mercedes-Benz and your arms were slowly touching the curves and edges. Atsumu thought that the view of you and his car was going to put him into cardiac arrest.

Pressing the start engine button, Atsumu turned to you. “Where to first?”

“The highway. Let’s baptize this bad boy,” You leaned forward and slid your fingers over the textured glove department.

“I am not taking my car to whatever blood demon summoning ritual you have in mind.”

You faced him, noticing the volleyball keychain hanging from the rear-view mirror, “You’ve seriously never baptized a car?”

“My car is agnostic.”

“A car baptism is when you hit a little over 160 kilometers, or if you like 100 miles per hour.”

“Those are the same speed.”

“Miles is lower than kilometers, more likely to get you to agree that way.”

He nods, backing his car out of his spot. Neither of you had made a move to turn on music quite yet, preferring to just embrace the smooth transportation.

Several texts from Suna popped up on Asumu’s display on the dashboard. Atsumu kept his eyes on the road, while you had free reign to watch whatever was going to unfold.

You sexy mofo

Why arnt you flirting back babe

Atsumu you dick

Ohhhhhhhhhh

You're actually doing something with her huh

I know a good detailer

Cleans everything right up

Several eggplant emojis later, and you just shook your head in amusement. All Atsumu had to do was ask, and this scenario Suna was proposing could very well be real, but he’d never tried anything more than grinding with you at the clubs.

Minus all the times he had leaned in for a kiss, especially after acing an exam he thought he would fail. Or when he felt sore from volleyball. Or when he just wanted to get a taste of your lip gloss. The attraction was there, and you saw no reason for him to hold back. He held back anyway.

There was still time before you reached the highway, so you just sat pretty, soaking up his presence. He smells expensive. With a physical presence so demanding, you have to wonder why Atsumu and Osamu were received so differently by those around them.

Atsumu couldn’t stand just being there with you, if he got any more jittery then he fully believed his driving skills would be impeded, which only had worst-case scenarios. So he reaches below his information screen, grabbing the aux cord.

“What do you wanna listen to?” You took the cord and plugged your phone in, mentally crossing off songs you didn’t want him to know that you listened to.

“Whatever you want to listen to. I’m not picky with car music, that’s ‘Samu’s field.”

“Driver picks the music, that's the most unspoken but most important car rule known to man.” A recollection of all the times Kiyokyo lightly slapped your hand away from her Spotify search option on her mom mobile. And all the times Yachi discreetly changed your music back to hers when she was giving you a ride to the grocery store so you both could get more juice.

“Passenger Princess picks the music in my car.”

You could live with being his passenger princess. The silence was chopped up and boiled alive with your late-night playlist.

Atsumu taps his fingers on the steering wheel, signaling left to merge onto the highway.

It was practically empty, minus the usual car here and there. The best part of driving on the highway at night was the lights. Towering buildings with spotted office lights still on, colorful lights from bars and various other fast-food restaurants, and lights from airplanes in the sky. Tokyo at night was perfect.

Atsumu, Tokyo, and you, however, that was a trio made to be.

He sped up. Not quite hitting your desired speed, but enough to put a chill around the car that was slowly seeping in.

“I have an extra sweatshirt under the seat.” Atsumu tilts his head slightly, urging you to accept his offer. He prayed that you wouldn’t ask him just to turn up the heat in the car.

You reached down and took the sweater out of the cubby below the seat. It was straight fleece on the inside, but a smooth cotton blend on the exterior. It was also a sweatshirt that had embroidery on the cuffs. His family name was on the left, and what you could only assume was his jersey number on the right.

“Thanks, it’s soft.” You brought the collar up slightly to rub the side of your face on the fleece.

Atsumu was grateful for the lack of lighting in the interior of his car, hiding the way he knew a blush was spreading rapidly across his ears and face.

Clearing his throat, Atsumu questioned your plans for the night, “Besides my veto-ing the baptism, what else did you have in mind? You said to your friends you were going to be busy until at least five.”

You had two possible options in mind. Both of which would terrify Atsumu. You picked around his glove box for a moment, before grabbing a coin.

“Heads is option one. Tails is option two.”

“Aren’t I supposed to know the options?”

You reached over and put a finger to his lips, “Shush, my game my rules.”

You warmed the coin up in your palms, before tossing it slightly and then hitting it against the back of your hand. Atsumu kept his left hand on the wheel, letting his right lay on your armrest closest to him, invading your undefined bubble.

“Option one.”

“I didn’t even tell you what the coin faced.”

“I know, I chose option one.”

“There’s a drift competition I heard about from the Grapevine.”

Of course, it was from the Grapevine. The vaguely illegal social media site that all college students would die to get an invite to join. No one knew who ran the platform, just that one day, if you were lucky, you got a text with an assigned username and password key to join. Atsumu had decidedly not been cool enough to receive such a text yet.

You, however, were one of the first people to get onto the Grapevine.

You clarified for Atsumu, “I won’t put your baby through the ringer, I just heard the gambling’s good. Apparently all the people who said they’d be racing are either bringing an imported car or they have a super tricked-out home-cooked car.”

Atsumu would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested. He just hummed, pulling up his GPS, and you typed in the address.

It was half past one when you got there. Atsumu parked his car about half a mile away from the location you had input. You praised him, calling him smart to do his best to avoid damaging your escape car.

When you got into the abandoned car parking lot, and walked down to the basement level, you were surprised. Atsumu stayed close by, walking slightly to the right of you but staying behind you.

Bumping from speakers was all kinds of music.

A yellow 1997 Mazda RX-7 had J-Pop blaring, with a decently young guy tweaking wires under the hood. A red 2006 Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution IX had Teriyaki Boyz’s “Tokyo Drift” playing, with various stripped-down women investigating the lights embedded in the wheels. There were several other cars similarly tricked out, each with their unique personality and appeal.

Atsumu pulled you back into him by your elbow, “This is insane.”

“It’s dope, that's what it is.” You scanned around for any kind of money being exchanged. “Winner, winner.”

You grabbed Atsumu’s hand, leading him to a turquoise-colored car.

“There’s my mischievous queen.” Oikawa looked you up and down, you just kicked your leg up and put your hands under your chin in an attempt to appear cutesy. “And then this stick in the mud.”

Atsumu just did a head nod to acknowledge Oikawa’s presence.

Oikawa was dressed in a white ribbed tank top and some lilac cargo pants. His Aoba Johsai medallion hung on a gold chain around his neck.

“I don’t suppose this perfectionist is gonna race. Bet he drives a Toyota Sienna.” Oikawa grazes your hip with his hand, trying to tug you over to him.

You can’t help but go over to Oikawa’s car. “2001 Nissan Silvia S15 Spec-S, my friend Ushijima helped me to change the colorway.”

“It’s gorgeous, just look at those LEDs,” You skimmed the attached lights around the door of the car, appreciating the overall look of the car, then investigating the smaller decals in the corners of the windows.

Inside Oikawa’s car were his over-the-shoulder seat belts embedded in the driver’s seat, a silver pack of something you couldn’t quite identify in the central console, and his phone lying on the passenger’s seat.

“Wanna go for a quick spin before it’s go time?” Oikawa flipped his keys around his finger, and a small diamond decoration caught the light from the various beamers around the car garage.

You looked back toward Atsumu, his eyes had narrowed.

“Nah, I’m happy just to do some gambling.” You wrapped an arm around Atsumu, holding onto his side. This was an effective enough deterrent for Oikawa.

“I see how it is, put your money on me though, some of these other drifters can barely keep their throttle going long enough for a good spin.”

“Noted. It was nice seeing you,” You waved, and Atsumu copied the wave, adding the repeated motion of bending his fingers at the knuckles, a teasing victory wave of sorts.

Oikawa and you knew each other through a mutual friendship in Iwaizumi, he was older than you by a few years, working on a graduate program in Argentina. He came back to Tokyo for the racing, only the racing. At least, that’s always what he told himself.

It would be a lie to say that Oikawa didn’t still love you. How can you not when you propose twice in one month, begging someone to come to a foreign country with you, telling them that you would take care of them, and they would never have to worry about anything? Just be with me and everything will be perfect.

You put a few bills on Oikawa, much to Atsumu’s chagrin.

The lineup was two cars at a time, going from the bottom floor up to the roof of the parking garage. There would be six brackets, for a total of twelve competing drifters.

If Oikawa did indeed win the whole thing, you stood to make a crisp four hundred dollars. If he placed in the top four, you got two hundred. Anything below the top four and you’d be out a flat hundred, all the money you skimmed off the bets from Strip Blackjack earlier this night.

People were lined up on either side of the starting point, you didn’t have the best vantage point seeing as all the tallest guys had already conglomerated to see the skidouts fail. Atsumu asked if you could see alright, and you just shrugged, it was an inconvenience but wouldn’t ruin the experience.

So he scouted for a better standing spot. “How’d you feel not watching the beginning of the race?”

In a moment, you two had jogged up the stairs, going to the roof. Only the various car techs were already up here, typing away on laptops.

The view was stunning. And had an ample vantage point. The car garage was scaffolded, so each floor going high was smaller than the layer below. The spiral going up to the finish line was readily viewable from where you and Atsumu were leaning against the concrete half-wall. You would get to see the final moments of the race, as well as see the billowing tire smoke from the levels below, various obstacles were on each floor. Barriers, iron gates, and pillars originally designed to guide cars to parking spots now functioned as ways to show off the iconic sideways slide of drifting.

Atsumu pulled out his phone when you were leaning over the half wall, inspecting the route the cars would have to take. It was just a few subtle pictures he told himself, of the way you were grinning wildly at the upcoming race, wearing his sweatshirt.

He couldn’t resist just sending one or two photos to Suna to humble brag.

Youre gonna kill her?

Push her off the ledge?

Im not gonna hide her body with you

Necrophilia is not hot

Youre such a douche you know that

Only for u my asian baby boy

she really is your type tho

Look at those legs, scrumptious

I will push you off a ledge

You think she would play strip blackjack with me? Without cards ofc just the stripping part

Blocking you rn

Ohhhhh noooo how will i survive without my precious

The roar of cars is louder than expected, Atsumu fumbles while trying to shove his phone back into his pocket. You just start giggling, lightly stomping your feet in excitement.

“Watch this!” A rapid twist from the yellow car as they continued to cut off what Atsumu recognized as Oikawa’s car.

The speed at which they were going shook Atsumu to the core. Each new drift circling a barrier to a straight path just intensified as they managed to go up each level in progressively intense challenges. Smoke billows from the tires against the pavement, flaring out the lights attached to the cars, creating what looked like a chalk bomb in the air full of color.

In a second, Oikawa spun out, cutting another corner and overtaking yellow. When he was sliding his way up the spiral, Atsumu had to admit to himself that what Oikawa had accomplished was pretty solid. Impressive even.

The rumbling and purring of the cars scratched a mental itch that you didn’t know you had. Like live animals, the cars came alive with each round. Despite the same route, new shortcuts and clean ‘barely made it’ moments richly colored each round.

It was exhilarating. For a moment you tried to imagine what it was like inside the car, the wind on your face, the jerking of your seatbelt while trying to move the steering wheel. It was golden material for a daydream just waiting to be utilized in your boring moments.

You made your full four hundred dollars, tucking it away in your bra when the coordinator passed you the cash wrapped in a rubber band.

Trying to fight a yawn, Atsumu ran a hand through his hair.

“Are you good to drive back to university?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

On the walk back to his car, you didn’t realize just how tired you were as well. You tripped on your foot. But he caught you, both hands holding your waist, lifting you up so just your toes were on the ground. You sheepishly smiled.

“What time is it?”

You checked your phone, but it was dead. “Mine’s outta juice.”

He checked his phone only for the result to be the same unfortunate situation.

Suddenly the lights on the streets were flickering, not fulfilling their role of being beacons of guidance back to Atsumu’s Mercedes.

A low hum approached the two of you from behind, “Not this guy again.” He mumbled. Atsumu was face to face with Oikawa again.

“Need a ride out the boonies?”

You looked at Atsumu, and despite sensing the potential for conflict, you decided it was more important to get back to the car than to worry about his ego.

“Yes please.”

“Hop in,” Oikawa held the door for you as you climbed into the sole back seat, Atsumu clambered into the passenger’s side.

He drove for around five minutes, but then after flashing his brights, you located the car. In a change of attitude, Oikawa gave Atsumu a smooth dap. “I can respect a man with a Benz like that.”

“Your car isn’t too bad either.”

“Oh no, mine's definitely better. But if I was placing a bet, I bet this is the car she likes better at the end of the day.” Oikawa threw a thumb in your direction as you were already at the car, wrapping your arms around yourself, teeth chattering.

Oikawa considered the possibility of rekindling something that had fizzled out. Then he remembered all the times you had talked about the little games you played with Atsumu, a light that shone on your face that never appeared when you were with him.

Argentina was home now. Could it truly be home without you though?

In a storm of dust, Oikawa drove off, leaving you and Atsumu sitting in his black car. He turned the heater up to maximum levels, easing your chill little by little.

The car clock showed the time being close to four in the morning.

“Still want to stay out until five?” Atsumu was back on the main road, he had found a piece of mint gum to chew to help him stay awake. He was grateful for all the flights across the country for volleyball matches that he was able to stay awake and cognizant even running on low sleep hours.

“I think I’m good actually.”

Atsumu was curious, so he asked what option two was. The other thing you had thought had the potential to burn through the night besides an underground drifting culture experience.

“Seven minutes in Atsumu’s Mercedes-Benz.”

“You tease.”

“True that.” Your phone finally reached a charge point where you could take it off the charger, hooking up Atsumu’s phone in place of yours. You started to stare out the window, glad that Atsumu didn’t care for music so you could let the meek hum of the car lull you away from consciousness.

“Genuinely, though, what other things could you have seen us doing tonight.”

You had fallen asleep within three minutes, curling into the back of the seat. Atsumu pulled over to the side of the road, reached over, and lowered the seat, so it was as close to flat as the car would allow. He took the emergency blanket from the trunk and wrapped it around you, tucking the blanket beneath you to secure it.

Once Atsumu got back to the university, he realized that he did not have either of your roommates' numbers. And your phone didn’t have facial recognition so he could just quickly call them while you were still asleep.

That was when he saw the note taped to the front of your housing unit. His name was written on the front in cursive lettering.

Hey Miya, we know you have our roommate with you. She’s probably asleep, and you never got our numbers. I, Kiyoko, am at a friend’s house, and Yachi sleeps like the dead so it is very unlikely that you’ll be able to put our sweet best friend back into her bed. Sorry for the inconvenience. We love her, but she never thinks more than three steps ahead at most. Touch her and you die. Sincerely, Shimizu Kiyoko.

Well, there’s that.

He makes his way back to the car. He can’t leave you asleep in the car. He can’t get you back to your room. So he does the next best thing, taking you back to his fraternity.

Transferring you from the car to the house was easy enough, he had called Suna to open the door while he brought you in.

“Osamu snores too much.” Suna supplied but agreed to not wake Osamu up and make him move back into his shared room with Atsumu.

With no deliberation, Atsumu put you on his bed, removing your shoes and putting them at the foot of his bed. He pulled his grey covers up and over your body. Your chest was rising and falling slowly. He sat on Osamu’s bed just watching you for a moment.

He couldn’t fight sleep forever though.

He woke up when the sun finally started to peek over the mountains in the distance. He would plan to take a nap later in the day, enjoying his Saturday to the fullest.

The notification on his phone did shock him for sure, his very own Grapevine account. Atsumu didn’t care much for social media, but he did enjoy knowing that he did something to warrant one of the rare invites.

It functioned the same as most other online communities, following options, posting options, etc. There was a main tab of events curated by whoever was behind Grapevine, he clicked on the official account. There he saw a picture of you and him at the drift event, when you had grabbed onto his arm and leaned into his side before the race started.

Ignoring the creepiness of getting this specific photo, he looked at the subtitle of the picture.

“Drifting’s Hottest New Couple, The Gamblers Who Love To Flirt With A Good Wager”

Who were they kidding, you were the one who actually made the money, Atsumu was just there to observe. But at least they had associated you with Atsumu instead of you and Oikawa. He considered this a win.

He turned off his phone.

You were stretching, shifting around the sheets, and you pulled your wad of cash out from your bra.

“Want gas money?” Waving the stack of twenty dollar bills, you kicked your feet slightly, shaking off your sleep.

“Nah, keep it. I lost Blackjack fair and square.”

Both of you were still lying in the beds, but facing each other.

“Want to stay in bed and watch this show I found?” Atsumu unplugged his laptop from the shared desk between the beds, clicking away.

After nodding, you sat up, and Atsumu crawled in next to you.

The intro music to the limited series drama started to play. It was raining outside, leaving raindrops racing on the window in the dorm room. There was some chatter outside the room, but together, you and Atsumu created your own space, undisturbed.

You think you love him.

Downstairs, in the shared fraternity kitchen, Suna was sipping coffee.

He was on his software program, checking for anything that needed to be fixed on his magnum opus, the Grapevine. He saw another request from a moderator on the platform, asking if Suna (under his pseudonym) would make an official post about another drift race.

Suna posted the details, swapped back into his personal account, and sent the link to Atsumu.

“No rest for the wicked.” Suna killed off the rest of his coffee, shoved his stuff into his backpack, and sent a text.

U got one more shot

Man, Oikawa owed Suna big time for this one.

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noecoded · 11 months ago

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going to dinner with asmo but youre in the resident evil 7 blackjack finger trap and every time you forget to compliment him or you say something he doesnt like you lose a finger

#asmo:youre seriously going to date other girls.."???#ive been spending my time working and drawing salacious yuri kissing imgs on twitter . however asmo is first in my heart #i get too scared to be on there half the time its like a horror movie irl

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fastrainbowdas · 9 months ago

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Hi hello I saw you didn't want to reach the tag limit on that reblog but I would very much like to hear your full character analysis on dsaf Jack

!!!

HIIIIII THANK YOU FOR ASKING <333333333

ok um. so.

The biggest thing abt Jack's personality is his apathy. He doesn't really care about anything other than his own amusement (and one other thing but I'll get into that later)

Yes, he agrees to help Fredbear (but what was he supposed to do? Just die?) but he doesn't actually Care about the dead kids. It's why he agrees to kill w Dave so easily! In fact, all Dave has to do to persuade him is to tell him how it would benefit Jack and Jack never argues that it's wrong. (I don't think he doesn't know that - he simply doesn't care)

He also... doesn't really care about his siblings either. He says he does, sure, but he doesn't, really. He has no problems killing them on evil routes (and while technically it is only Legacy Jack that does this, it still applies to Regular Jack and I'll explain why in a bit)

Here is where we get into differences between Regular and Legacy; Legacy actually cares about his siblings' deaths (insane, I know). Yeah, that is different from caring about them bcs. as stated before. He kills them in cold blood. lmfao

But he also gets Pissed when Dave flaunts around Dee's scarf and says it's his "most prized souvenir" to the point where he rips his fucking head off. So clearly Legacy cares that his siblings were murdered.

But Regular never ??? does anything ??????? to imply he gives a fuck ??????????? Like sure he says he cares but like. idk considering he knows Who his siblings are now and he has no problem lying to and/or killing them. I'd say he doesn't really care.

Anyway to get to the other thing Jack cares about - Dave! There's no arguing on this, Dave is the only person Jack couldn't bring himself to lie to in the good ending of dsaf 3 and directdoggo has confirmed that that entire monologue was just Jack going around saying "I love you". And we can tell Legacy also cares about Dave, since in dsaf 3, you only solidify the evil path with the line "Dave... I missed you." Which is really fuckin weird to say if you don't care about the person you're saying this to and only want to kill people again? And it's not like Jack can't do it by himself, not to mention Legacy could've easily just. Said he wants to murder again, there's no reason for him to lie about missing Dave. He wouldn't gain anything from lying and Dave was desperate enough to the point where he absolutely would've taken "ok fine lets kill again" more or less the same.

And before anyone tries telling me that Legacy is possessed by Henry or whatever the fuck. That's just misinterpretation of the text. Please go back and rewatch the evil ending, Henry literally STATES he cannot directly control Jack, just talk to him.

SO ALL THIS TO SAY. Both Regular and Legacy Jack care about Dave.

And- that's kind of weird, isn't it? Why is caring about Dave like. More or less the only thing they have in common? Why Dave specifically? What's so special about him?

Well I've given it some thought and. Simply put - nothing. There is nothing special about Dave. What is special is the circumstances in which their relationship formed and developed.

Dave is the only person Jack has gotten to know after he became soulless. Not only that, but they've hung out repeatedly (both the child murder and vegas) so it makes sense Jack would care about him, no?

As for why he doesn't care about anyone he got to know before dying. The most accurate way I can think to phrase it is that losing his soul reset all his feelings.

Anyway. To the part that fucks w me the most.

The similarities between BlackJack and Legacy Jack.

This should Not be a section that I need to make. What the fuck is this. If anything they should be polar opposites, no? BlackJack is literally this guy's soul and they very much clash at the end of the dsaf 2 pure evil ending so what the fuck am i talking about

And I could mention the whole. killing in cold blood thing. But honestly, even Regular Jack does it? If you go w Dave but don't go for the pure evil ending, Jack is still a murderer and all.

So for actual things BlackJack and Legacy have in common that Regular Jack doesn't. The first one that comes to mind is absolutely the enormous ego. (BlackJack thought he could deal with Henry all on his own (which is like. fucking insane. when you actually get to the fight you realize all of blackjack's attacks are fucking useless lmfao) and Legacy LITERALLY LOOKED GOD IN THE EYE AND SAID "I AM GOD". THATS ALMOST KINDA SICK. WHAT THE FUCK DUDE) And because of said ego, they also treat everyone else as inferior!! So that's fun. (BlackJack's entire monologue about how everyone in your party is a monstrosity and he'll show Henry what he's created and if he doesn't feel bad abt it he'll kill him!! And Legacy straight up calling Peter his prey in that one scene)

The last thing is that they're... kind of the only versions of Jack that actually care about their siblings' deaths? Like I said earlier, Regular doesn't give a fuck and both BlackJack and Legacy make it very clear that they're upset about it.

I really like what my friend said on this matter - that BlackJack and Legacy are coping with their tragedy in a similar way, while Regular Jack is coping differently. For BlackJack and Legacy, revenge seems to be a big thing, so it's not really a shocker that the more they care, the more cruel and violent they are. Simply put, caring serves as motivation for doing terrible things.

Um. I am very passionate about Legacy Jack.

Moving on from him though. Regular Jack is really interesting too.

Bcs he doesnt really. change between the different endings. Really, the only difference in Him Specifically between whether he saves the kids or not is just. Does he regard the promise he was forced to make as more important? or does he not give a shit and only think of his own amusement?

Frankly considering that he murders children for kicks and that BlackJack is implied to have been. Very Brutal when killing Henry. It really makes me wonder about what Jack was like before he died (or Alive Jack as I call him).

To me, Alive Jack is the biggest mystery regarding Jack because it's so hard to say what behaviors of all other versions of Jack are a result of Jack's tragedy and what are simply What he's Like. I'd love to say more on this topic but there simply isn't anything to say, all we can do is speculate.

Anyway yeah!! I think that's everything!! I didn't expect it to be so long lmao rip

Thanks for readinggggggggggg :]

EDIT: Hi here's a link to a thread where I answer a few questions :]

#dsaf #dayshift at freddy's #jack kennedy #jack dsaf #dsaf jack #jack kennedy dsaf #dsaf jack kennedy #this has been done since fuckin january #but i never posted it #all bcs i wanted to add a section abt the parallels between henry and jack #but i was lazy as fuckkkkkkkkkk #and only today did i realize that. i dont have to do that #teehee!!

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dead-by-mending · 7 months ago

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Moar Dbd as Russian Badger quotes

Danny : I don't misinform. I just lie.

Aestri, hearing a terror radius : A great evil is coming...

Feng, who recognized the Twins' terror radius : That great evil is the damn French

Yun-Jin whenever Dwight tries to say anything : Yo, 7.25$ an hour, shut the fuck up

Joey, getting matched against Lisa : The purpose of this trial is to violate the Geneva convention

Ace : You are 36 games of blackjack away from being a billionaire

Jeff : I will eat bread and butter by the slice

Jonah : No you won't !

Jeff : I WILL !!!

Jonah : AAA- *DC's*

Ji-woon : *Plays the first note of Megalovania*

Every survivor in the trial : NO

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blackcannibal · 8 months ago

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Blackjack cards from Resident Evil 7 21 DLC🖤🃏

#resident evil 7 #re7 biohazard #re7 #lucas baker

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spyridonya · 1 year ago

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How the Drow Became Problematic Faves - a Badly Written Meta History of D&D

Oh, hey. It feels like newcomers to D&D via BG3 fandom have discovered the Problematic Nature of Drow via Halsin vs Minthara conflict.

Cut because of talk of racism and it being fucking long.

Let's talk about meta, first. So, the very first usage of 'drow' came from a dialetc of Scots as a term for troll, which was used to talk about all sorts of evil spirits. When Gary Gygax had to make a war game, he decided he'd make evil elves. They were based on 'black elves' in the Prose Edda and saw the word 'Drow' in a dictionary that claimed it was a term for underground elves who were skilled workers in metal. Being a white guy in the late 70s, he saw no issues in making evil elves actually black. For the next decade or so, they were canon fodder for modules and novels and always evil and repugnant.

In the late 80s and early 90s, R. A. Salavotre and Ed Greenwood slapped on the concept of drow society being an evil dystopian society run by dominatrixes who emasculate men, in the Forgotten Realms setting. There were a few token dark elves, namely the super popular Drizzt Do'Urden, who were good but the majority were not. Like Gary, RA and Ed were white guys who did not see the problem of black elves and putting their kink into deep lore. Not all settings went by this, Dragonlance for example had drow just be ‘evil assholes elves who got kicked out of their society’ and look like just any other elves.

(Quick note on Drizzt, he became iconic not because of his race but so much as being an outsider to two cultures while being a badass. I might not be a fan personally, but I know the appeal of the character.)

The 90s came along and by the end of the decade, TSR was bought by Wizards of he Coast who proceeded to make the Drow even Grim Darker during 3rd edition to go along with the times. Yet, too, didn’t stop to think about the problematic issues that were being brought up by more thoughtful fans - WotC hired another module company who wrote about drow women being so fucking evil, they an orgasm like reaction when embryo killed each other in the womb.

4th Edition came and went. No one talks about those times. Drow existed as evil.

2014, 5e comes along and drow are so fucking popular, they’re included in the Player’s Handbook, rather in errata based books, as ‘humanoid’. In fact other evil races were introduced under the label of ‘humanoid’, indicating orcs and goblinkin. About a year later, Matt Mercer switched up his TTRPG to 5e because it was an easier system for his friends to understand, and they began to show their games online under Critical Role while a year after that Stranger Things came out and became a smash hit.

Between these two, D&D explodes in popularity with an entirely new demographic group that began to outnumber the old guard. This larger and more diverse popular saw drow and other ‘evil races’ and went ‘wtf’. They didn’t exactly like the concept of ‘an always evil race’ and discovered the problematic issues that collected over the last several decades not with just drow, but with ‘monstrous’ races.

WotC wanting money began to listen - just really slowly, and not so much in Forgotten Realms.They dropped the ‘always evil’ from the stat block but refused to change anything else to their older settings.

(Incidentally, the company that made Grim Dark Drow really disliked 4e. They decided to make their own take of 3.5e with Hookers and Blackjack and made Pathfinder, which was supposed to be Edgier Game than D&D. However, a lot of people they hired were quick to notice the nature of the game and say, ‘nah, this shit is stupid’. As of now, Pazio is retconning drow from their lore. - That my friends, is called a character arc.)

During this 46 year span, drow have been fucking evil because their goddess made them do it as justification of their evilness - and not because they were black or born into it. In fact, Lloth, Gruumsh and Maglubiyet are the reasons why the Drow, Orc, and Goblinkin society is so evil and they’re also why they can function as a society when in truth, they all should have fallen apart. And no one has bothered to change this lore. In fact they avoid mentioning this lore rather than changing it to avoid conflict with older fans and newer fans.

Then BG3 hits and hits harder than anyone expected. A lot of new fans come on aboard and really begin to like Drow, who are super sexy evil elves, not knowing the lore and kicking the problematic issues down the road. Larian was a bit quicker than TSR/WotC to realize ‘wow, this is fucking yikes’ and decided to make Seldarine drow. I’ve been playing since I was young teen, in the last years of 3.xe. I saw a lot of wanna-be Drizzt and Good Aligned Drow that were played variably, but there were a lot of people who loved the concept. While Seldarine aren’t a concept in TTRPG canon proper, the idea of Seldarine drow has existed for decades at tables, and Larian acknowledging that is something I love.

But they made Llothsworn Drow as the ‘lore compliant drow’ because WotC hasn’t changed drow in decades.

The thing is, Drow being Problematic Faves isn’t because WotC is wildly racist on purpose, it’s just that during the majority of Drow being A Thing in D&D, they have been Sexy and Evil Villains and play the role of Misunderstood Outsider (though this recently has been taken over by tieflings).

In fact, I’m seeing a lot of new fans getting kicked in the teeth when characters react to a Llothsworn drow as flat out evil and not being judged by their actions, because they don’t know it’s been a thing in D&D for years with narrative excuses to justify in-universe racism. And then there are some players who make an evil Llothsworn drow and still get upset despite playing into in-universe reasons for the excuses of racism.

We’re seeing it as a reaction to datamined information with little context other than an abused white guy feels uncomfortable with an abused black woman - and it’s super hard to justify in-universe reasons for this because in the real world, a white guy is going to be listened to and believed regardless of it being true or not.

Essentially, the drow are a fucking mess due to D&D ignoring the racial implications of drow in the real world for nearly 50 years. The only way to fix it is making major lore changes, which is something they’re reluctant to do because they’re making their errata books so damn light on lore as to avoid conflict and the model sells.

Will this change with BG3? I don’t know. But I kinda hope so.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #halsin #minthara #drow

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raspberry-vinaigrette · 3 months ago

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alright drop ur main jack headcanons please i will gladly slurp them up :3

HAHAHAHAH I AM SOOO GLAD YOU ASKED

i have a post with some big ones over here but i ALWAYS have more! putting them under a cut since idk how long this'll be when i post

i mentioned this before and never elaborated but i've always interpreted that one scene in the good ending with davetrap and jack in the saferoom while davetrap holds the kid hostage and the layout of the scene fades from the normal first-person visual novel style into a top-down pixellated tycoon segment/flipside segment style as jack dissociating. it makes sense, especially because it's triggered when jack has to claim that he's a good person who wouldn't hurt kids -- he knows (or at least believes) this isn't true, given that the evil ends of dsaf1 and 2 happened by dsaf3, even if they were "reverted" in some way or another -- and also jack just like. has a lot of self loathing and dehumanization issues. he does not perceive himself as human in most senses of the word.

^ because of this i've always viewed jack as having derealization and depersonalization issues ! it's mostly triggered by situations of high-stress in which he disconnects to detach his emotions from the situation because he kind of just wishes he was as lackadaisical and apathetic as he tries to present himself as early on. but he Isn't. and that causes Problems. he's aware of it happening and it's concerning but honestly especially with the fact that henry and blackjack are both constantly in his head and he already perceives himself as a vessel of some kind? he's just ignoring it. It Happens!

fazbender's frights was set up in 2003 to keep with the xxx3 year motif that's in the games (1973 is when dee and jack died, 1983 is when henry disappeared i think? + bite of '83, 1993 is when roger's location shut down, 2023 is when dsaf3 happens)! it stayed up for around the same amount of time as jack's dsaf3 restaurant before jack burned it down and believed his work there was done and started focusing on the flipside machine. i think there's a couple mentions in dsaf3 that miiight contradict this but whatever i'm chalking that up to "davetrap has a terrible memory between the soul-split, the trauma, and the years of isolation" since i like the idea the xxx3 years match up

i also have an event in mind for 2013! it's been a running thing in my headcanon that during the 35 year gap jack went to vegas at one point to try and relive the thrill of being with dave in hopes it would help him move on. this did not work. jack immediately got lost, could not handle everything going on, and just ended up scrambling outside and buying some cheap liquor before taking a taxi to a nearby hotel. he got wasted and tried to purge this from his memory. this happened in 2013 and he still never told peter what happened he just said he was out on "business" and peter kind of looked at him funny but didn't ask.

jack only finally quit his addiction to smoking + alcohol when roger talked about his history with addiction in his big lore speech + theres that one cutscene if you offer roger a cigarette where he mentions spending all his paychecks on liquor. roger's concern and the fact i think jack sympathized with roger's issues a lot personally probably is what got jack to finally make an effort in the good ending. granted good end jack ended up burning the place down with himself inside but i think jack poured out his bourbon along with the gasoline before davetrap arrived. "bourbon is only flammable from the cask--" it's SYMBOLIC let me have this

i like to think jack salvaged davetrap from the initial bakersfield location for frights himself. davetrap didnt recognize jack because jack made a point to wear a mask -- an official fredbear mask, it's really rare merchandise! ...which probably should've given jack away, given there's few people who would be that dedicated to fazbender merchandise collection -- and gloves and such to hide his identity. i think jack mumbled something to davetrap at the time ("dave... i missed you." to parallel the dsaf3 dialogue, mayhaps), but with davetrap being kinda half-lucid at the time, he chalked up that voice that sounded so much like jack's to just being "i miss sportsy :("

i think. when dave does that rant at the end of dsaf2's good route where he says peter and him just view jack as a tool. for one i think this is a not-uncommon instance of "dave saying shit he doesnt mean because he's impulsive and shortsighted and this can be seen in ESPECIALLY reality dave (look at the entire jacktrap plan)" but thats not the point. for two i think jack like genuinely was fine with this exchange albeit for fucked up reasoning, that being... well... he thought dave was right. jack IS just a tool, a means to an end, a vessel for saving these kids. he is soulless, he is an empty shell who will never be fixed. he will never be a person. and he wants people to forget him so its easier for everyone to move on. this is why legacy jack is so distinct to me btw because hes been so influenced by henry in a lot of ways that for once he wants to have a legacy. but thats besides the point. basically jack was like oh cool ive finally driven him off and he sees me for what i am! maybe then he'll finally be able to be saved now that he's moved on and i can work on what i'm made for.

^ if they talked about this i think jack could come to be more normal and healthy about this thought process albeit with a lot of time. especially given even after that rant dave carefully puts jack into his suit and doesnt hurt him and even says "i almost wish we couldve worked things out". but thats a whole other ramble. i NEED them to be undoomed

#jack kennedy #jack dsaf #dayshift at freddy's #rambles #i have so many thoughts on this guy.

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