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concussed-to-pieces · 4 years ago

Text

Whether It Works Out Or Not Part Three

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Named OFC

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Welcome kids, welcome to the conclusion! I hope you've liked this little foray into the Wild West. Enjoy!

[Spoiler warning for the first three chapters of the game!]

Tag List: @huliabitch @cookiethewriter @pedrosbigdorkenergy @thirstworldproblemss @anonymouscosmos @culturalrebel @karmezii @teaofpeach @crookedmoonsaultpunk @wrestlingfae @zombiexbody @nelba @gabrielle1776 @toxiicpop @mstgsmy @misty-possum

Part One: Strangers

Part Two: Friends

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains unprotected sex, historical inaccuracies and allusions to previous abuse. Stay safe!]

If he had so glibly dubbed Linton perishing of pneumonia as bad business, he dreaded to come up with a term for whatever Irene had gone through. Christ, spousal discipline. A victim of the so-called 'gentlemen' that brought their wives to heel with the rod, coverture at its goddamn finest. It had always made Arthur's chest tight, made him see red, had him raring to give them a taste of their own medicine despite Dutch's constant preaching about an eye for an eye only makes the world blind.

Womenfolk, for all Arthur's troubles with one in particular, deserved to be seen and heard as much as anyone else. Shit, from a biblical standpoint they were supposed to be cherished, protected, defended if they needed it. Arthur was not a pious man by any stretch; the blood on his hands had him thoroughly convinced of his prime spot in Hell come Judgement Day. But if he needed to resort to thumping the good book to get his point across, he damn well would. Fine gentlemen may not fear overmuch the wrath of one Arthur Morgan, yet they certainly feared for the salvation of their wretched, mealy little souls.

Irene's brown eyes were dark and surprisingly dry as she watched him watch her, the tales she told painting the late Mr. Carson as no man, but a fiend in man's clothing.

Arthur felt a lump form in his throat when she spoke of selling off her damn hair just so she could get free of that bastard. It was clear that after what she had suffered, nearly dying on the side of a mountain was a veritable paradise. She'd had to learn everything the hard way, taking all that she had read about and painstakingly putting it into practice. That she was still alive was a goddamn miracle. A miracle that Arthur didn't feel like testing the charity of. Providence had kept her safe thus far, but just how damn long did she expect that to hold?

What if someone else had found her in that trap? What if he hadn't been hunting that bear? Hell, what if one of those boys from Lemoyne had come across her bathing today? Arthur gritted his teeth. Granted, she wasn't defenseless, not by a long shot, but lone wolves didn't tend to last out in the wilds. It had been sheer coincidence that nothing far worse had happened.

"Come back to camp with me." He interrupted her to offer, his voice rough. "I...me an' the gang, we can keep you safe there. You ain't gotta' live like this anymore, that feller's dead. He can't come to drag you back to that...misery."

She shook her head, her smile sad. "I've been on my own for too long, Arthur. I'm used to it."

"Please." He begged. "I don't...if...look, I...I don't want you to…" he trailed off, frustrated by his inability to articulate the confusing emotions roiling in his chest. "Hell, I dunno'." He muttered, shoving the toe of his boot into the dirt. "Scared for you, I guess."

"I've made it this far, haven't I?"

"What if it wasn't me?" He retorted. "What if every time, it was-"

"It was you, though." Irene interjected softly. "I won't deny that our paths crossing again and again seems like fate, or divine intervention."

Arthur huffed out a breath. "I s'pose, but-"

"You needed someone to listen, and I needed someone to show me kindness."

"Well sure, but-"

"If you had bedded me in Valentine, would that have satisfied your curiosity?" Irene inquired primly. "Nipped your fascination in the bud?"

"Shit, no." Arthur finally managed to get a word in edgewise, shaking his head. "I...you seemed real sweet. Pretty. Sad, in a secret way. I wanted...but then you said all those things and I...I ain't never met a woman that seemed to see me like how you did, Miss Irene. Most folks just see what they can get outta' me."

"I always saw you, Arthur. From the first time we met on the side of that mountain." Irene told him, her voice gone soft once more. "I saw your smile, and your beautiful eyes, and the way you were willing to help. It made me want to help you too."

"M-My--? Shucks, ma'am, I ain't...I mean my eyes is...uh." Arthur yanked at the collar of his shirt. Despite it being unbuttoned, he suddenly felt as though it was too tight. "Well, you're one to talk about beautiful eyes!" He blustered, feeling his gut twist when she looked surprised of all things. "What, ain't anyone ever said somethin' nice to you before? You got nice eyes! And a good heart! Smart words, too, you're intelligent! Shit--I mean, shoot, sorry, ain't tryin' to swear in front of you." He rushed to apologize, worrying at the brim of his hat. "I'm just off-balance is all, ma'am, forgive me."

She waved off his apology, laughing. "Don't be so uptight, Arthur! It's still me."

"But it ain't, that's the thing. I…" he paused yet again, fumbling in his satchel for his journal. "I-I haven't stopped thinkin' of you, Miss Irene. What I'd say if I ever ran into you again." Opening the book to the first sketch of her, he turned it around so she could see. "I never came up with anythin', though. Aside from 'thank you'."

Instead of staying where she was, she approached and sat down alongside him. Those fingers, just as reverential as the first time 'Frank' had seen his sketches, ran down the lines of her face on the page.

They weren't perfect. His memory of her had been blurry with drink and many of his sketches had been scribbled out or erased into gray smudges in frustration. "They're beautiful." She whispered.

"No, you're beautiful." Arthur murmured before he could think better of it. "Nothin' that I could make would ever do you justice, Miss Irene."

She was flushed already from the fire, her hair slowly drying into a wild mess of sun-streaked curls that he longed to run his fingers through. "I wouldn't say that." She tried to deflect his words, smiling shyly down at her hands.

She had been married. Her acting like what he was doing was something new had Arthur damn near distressed. He cupped her chin with his hand, keeping his touch as light as he could bear while he tipped her face up to look at him. "I would."

"You would?" Her tongue darted out to soothe her dry lips, stirring a half-forgotten memory in his mind of her making some sound into his mouth as he kissed her.

"I sure would." He drawled, tilting his head and lowering his mouth to hers. The little whimper that came out of her settled in his abdomen. Was this a bad idea? Probably. "Take the shirt off."

"You told me to put it on!"

"And now, I'm askin' you to take it off." Arthur growled, pressing his mouth against the shell of her ear and breathing, "please."

Irene shivered all over, clinging to his hands like she was trying to keep her composure. Lord knew Arthur's own composure had never been particularly ironclad. She finally released him, her fingers trembling when she reached for the hem of the shirt.

"Easy girl, only if you want to." Arthur pressed a kiss to her cheek, "only if you're willin'. I ain't so brash to believe that you bein' alright with this one time before means that you'd be okay with it now."

"You…" Irene hesitated. "I've never been allowed to say no, Arthur."

Oh, Jesus, that hurt. "Well now you can. Any time. Right now, in the middle, whenever." He forced the words out past his muted, secondhand horror. "I'll stop. I'm not...this ain't about somebody gettin' hurt, okay? This is...I'm tryin' to make you feel good. That's all I want."

Irene squinted up at him, her disbelief evident. "So...it can be good? That's not just something they put in the books so women don't decide to never get bedded?"

Oh Jesus. "Oh, Jesus." Arthur scrubbed helplessly over his stubble with one hand, trying to formulate a response that wouldn't come off as terrifying or lecherous. "So, you...b-but you was married." He floundered.

"Yes?"

"He ain't...I mean you never-?"

"I have never been kissed like you kissed me before, if that answers your question."

"Well, yes and no. I-I reckon yes." Arthur stammered. "Alright, let me...I'll pitch my tent and we'll have a lie down and I'll...I-I guess I'll do my damnedest."

Jesus, he needed a minute. Just a momentary reprieve while he fumbled to unlash the canvas from Chase's back. Christ, his mind was going like Hell's wheels. She had never known pleasure from lying with a man. Never. To the point where she thought it was fabricated. One more nail in that devil's coffin, he supposed. Lord, Arthur prayed he was up for this.

She wanted to help him set up the tent and Arthur had to laugh, his nerves easing a bit at the petulant way she demanded to hold the guylines taut for him. "It's ungentlemanly for me to expect you to help out with stuff like this," he tried to explain.

"If you start pulling some nonsense about how I'm a delicate flower, you will regret it." Irene informed him firmly. "I haven't gotten this far to be treated like glass, Mister Arthur."

"Well, you certainly wasn't protestin' that treatment in Valentine." He chuckled, watching her face go bright red.

"I-I was caught off-guard, that's all! Fell back into old habits!"

"Oh shoah." He shrugged, still grinning. Thunder rumbled in the distance and he quickly opened up the tent flap with a broad, sweeping bow. "After you, ma'am."

She smiled at him and Arthur was hard-pressed to think of a prettier sight than that, the woman sidling past him to enter the tent after she had gathered up her still-damp things.

Arthur Morgan did not consider himself a good man. He did not consider himself a particularly smart man either. But every once in a while even his life could pan out with gratifying and interesting results. Such as an attractive woman who had been masquerading as an attractive man ending up in his tent, waiting on him to show her the...primitive ecstasies of the flesh.

He took his time before joining her however, choosing instead to smoke a cigarette and scan the perimeter of the grove, an idle hand on his revolver.

He definitely wasn't stalling. Definitely wasn't trying to compose himself before he got out of pocket with her. But Jesus, what he would love to do if she was willing!

The sunlight began to wane as the clouds rolled in and Arthur stubbed out his cigarette, carefully saving the remainder for later. No telling when he'd get his hands on a fresh pack, and the last chew he'd indulged in had been so strong it nearly burned a hole in his lower lip. Better to stick to the sticks.

He entered the tent to find Irene sitting cross-legged on her bedroll, still in his shirt (and Lord, that was a whole other article that he needed to address about himself), and she looked up at him expectantly as he ducked his head so he didn't bump the side of the tent. "Was just makin' sure everythin' is safe, Miss Irene." He explained, tying the tent flaps together. Arthur then began the process of unbuckling his holster belt, carefully hanging it from the support by the door. He had only stayed alive this long because Hosea had taught him to always have a revolver within reach. "You nervous?" He asked conversationally while he dropped his hat by the door.

"Perhaps a bit." Irene replied, her truthful words giving him pause. "I am optimistic, however."

"I ain't gonna' hurt you, but you need to be honest with me, okay? Won't hurt my feelin's none if you tell me you don't like somethin'." Arthur assured her, "I can adapt."

"Thank you, Arthur."

Oh Jesus, there it was again. Like a hot brick in his stomach, an intoxicating combination of wariness and arousal. He knelt beside her, tangling his fingers greedily through her short, thick curls. He could feel her trembling slightly, which was...sobering. "Ain't gonna' hurt you." He soothed, making a shushing noise. "Ain't gonna' hurt you. You're okay."

Wide brown eyes stared up at him and Irene nodded slowly.

"You trust me, Miss Irene?" Arthur asked quietly.

Another nod.

"Good." Arthur cupped her face and crushed their mouths together without further ceremony. She gasped into his mouth, her hands finding purchase on his chest where she proceeded to cling to him. He only vaguely remembered how she had reacted to his kiss before, her body threatening to collapse against his own in that cramped little garret that the Saints Hotel considered a rentable room.

"Arthur," she breathed shakily, kissing him at an almost fevered speed. "Is this really how it's supposed to be?"

"Is it good?"

"Oh yes, so good, I-"

"That's the important part sorted, then. Rest'll take care of itself." Arthur nibbled on her lower lip, his teeth gentle in case she needed to pull away. If anything though, she pressed closer. He was pleasantly surprised when she timidly slipped him her tongue, illustrating his enthusiastic approval by welcoming it with his own. "Can I touch you?" He gasped against her lips, his forehead resting on her own. They were fully in each other's space now, but he knew that could change in an instant.

"Please, please." Irene begged, clutching his hands.

"Can I take off the shirt? Can I see you?" was his next question, loaded as it was.

"I…" Irene paused. "I don't know if...you'd want to, honestly."

"Oh believe me, I want." Arthur insisted. "If you want, I want."

"Just like that?"

"Don't need to be any more complicated than that, ma'am." Arthur kept his hands still. "Just a little heavy pettin' even, if that's all you're lookin' for. But I can make you feel real good."

"Heavy petting?" Her brow furrowed. "I'm...unfamiliar, Mister Arthur."

"Yeah, y'know, heavy pettin'. You kinda' just...I mean you uh. Touch. A lot. Usually." He struggled to explain, again finding himself walking the line of trying not to scare her while still giving her the information she sought. "Demonstration? I ain't so good at this." He finally suggested ruefully.

Irene nodded and Arthur drew his index fingers over her collarbone, framing it briefly before he slipped further down. Slowly, so as not to frighten her, he cupped her breasts through the undershirt, letting their weight rest in his palms.

He had to clear his throat before he spoke next. "Okay?" Irene nodded, her expression almost laughably serious. "I'm gonna' move my thumbs now. Just gentle, no pinchin'." Arthur informed her. "You let me know if that's okay."

"Mmhm." She inhaled sharply the second he grazed over her nipples, a little hiccup leaving her. Arthur had never encountered that particular reaction and he lingered in the same spot, swiping his thumbs back and forth across the soft mounds of her breasts. He felt her body begin to react, her nipples waking underneath his touch.

"Okay?" He rasped, his throat dry all of a sudden. Irene looked...drowsy, almost, the woman biting her lower lip and just watching his hands move.

"Feels good." She whispered. "I...I think I like it?"

"You ain't sure yet? Want me to stop?"

Arthur barely got the question out before she said, "no!", flushing immediately afterwards. "I-I mean no, please...please keep going?" She requested, not meeting his eyes.

He chuckled, "okay then. Just relax. I've got you, Miss Irene." Her hands fumbled for purchase on his suspenders and Arthur was delighted when she shoved them off over his shoulders, the woman whimpering as he removed his hands from her briefly to slip out of the loops. "Shh, I'm right here." Arthur murmured, returning to his previous ministrations.

"I don't know what to do." Irene breathed, resting her forehead on his shoulder. "What do I do, Arthur? Can't j-just--" her voice hitched, fingers digging into his upper arms as he continued to gently stroke her. "Sit here, not doing anything."

"Lemme' take care of you for a l'il bit, okay?" The older man offered softly. At his insistence, she laid back, propping herself up on her elbows and then gifting him a tender little cry when he dipped his head to mouth and tease at one of her nipples through the shirt's thin fabric.

Rain began to patter on the tent's canvas roofing, dulling the sounds of the surrounding woodlands. It was like a curtain being drawn, shielding Arthur from the outside and narrowing his world down to nothing but the woman currently arching her entire body up in search of his mouth. Irene reached for him blindly, her hands so delicate in his own when he laced their fingers together and pressed his lips back to her breast through the shirt's material.

She writhed beneath him, little noises of desperation issuing from her without much preamble. It was as if she was starved for touch. In a way, Arthur supposed dimly, they both were. Her guarding her secret, trying her hardest to be cautious and he keeping his own secrets, trying to work around the blatant duality of his existence.

We're thieves in a world that don't want us no more.

But here, here, in this sheltered glade, the two of them might find a moment of reprieve. A haven.

Irene grasped at the hem of the shirt, going to tug it over her head and immediately getting stuck because she hadn't unbuttoned it first. The woman thrashed, nearly elbowing Arthur in the face, and he couldn't help the way his laughter exploded out of him. "Whoa there! Easy, hold on." He said, lending her a hand to unbutton the shirt from the inside so she could get it over her head safely.

She was breathless from giggling by the time they managed to free her from the shirt's clutches, and Arthur had to kiss her again. Tentatively her hands traveled up the back of his neck and found their way to his shaggy hair. She tugged, making him rumble into her mouth. "You wanted to see me?" Irene asked shyly, and Arthur realized she was trying to display some sort of willingness.

"If it's alright, ma'am, I would." He murmured, keeping his eyes on hers. She nodded and Arthur gave her a gentle peck on the lips before drawing back, settling onto his knees so he could really take in the sight.

Outside he had done his best not to ogle. Which had been incredibly difficult. But Arthur Morgan wasn't some skin-hungry yearling, and he could usually determine when to avert his eyes.

In the twilight of the tent she was a damn vision. He reached out and cupped the back of her calf, palming the curve of the muscle that lurked beneath the skin when he moved her leg to open her up just a bit. She was strong, forged of stubborn steel. His eyes traveled up, lingering on the thatch of dark curls at the apex of her thighs. Further up to her breasts, pebbled with gooseflesh and no doubt still feeling the echoes of his mouth. Her collarbone had been so delicate under his hands, like some fanciful artisan’s filigree. That throat, Lord, to tarry there and cover her skin with reminders of him would be heaven-! His eyes shifted to her freckled shoulders, the area littered with old scars. Arthur had the sneaking suspicion that her back would have borne the brunt of what she had gone through.

He wished he could stop time itself and sketch her just like this.

"You're beautiful." He mumbled, only half-aware that he was even speaking. Irene squirmed, covering her face, but Arthur gently caught one of her hands and tugged it away. "Irene, you're beautiful." He repeated, a little louder.

"You...you don't mean that, Arthur." She replied weakly.

"Oh yes I do, ma'am." He insisted, her pulse thundering against his lips when he kissed the inside of her wrist. "Can I…may I?"

Irene nodded rapidly, her head falling back when Arthur spread her legs. He abruptly felt like a starving man at a banquet table. Her cunt was flushed pink, honest, glistening with the slick of her arousal. Her thighs trembled against his forearms.

Jesus.

Arthur rubbed a palm across his face, trying to judge whether his stubble might be a bit too aggressive for the obviously sensitive area. "Hey, I…I'm gonna' try somethin', okay? You let me know if…" he trailed off when he looked up and saw her with her arm over her eyes, hiding from him again. Her cheeks were ruddy, whether from embarrassment or excitement he was uncertain. "Irene? Look at me." He implored, reaching out to tip her chin down. "You're okay, it's okay."

She hesitantly put her arm down, biting her lip. "Nervous," was all she said.

"You want me to stop?" Arthur asked, hating the way she still looked surprised. "I will stop."

"No, I just...I'm not used to it being so…" Irene paused, clearly searching for the correct word. "Gentle."

Arthur groaned, "you're killin' me woman. Tell me if you ain't likin' what I'm doin'." He sank down between her legs, urging her up a little on the bedroll so he could lay on his belly. Jesus, he was lost. She was shaking under his touch, quivering just from his kisses on her inner thighs. Arthur continued to make soft noises in his throat, trying to keep her calm as he worked his way higher.

"A-Arthur?" Her voice broke, questioning. "Arthur, that's my-"

"Sure is." Arthur replied, already drunk on the clean, delicious scent of her. "I'm gonna' just...have a little taste."

He was slow, careful, like he was out stalking prey in the grasslands. Soft kisses that made their way relentlessly inward to his prize until finally, he parted her lower lips with his thumbs and lapped at the nectar that seeped forth. Irene flinched, obviously startled by his mouth on her, and her hands flew to his hair. Arthur waited for a beat, and then cautiously continued tonguing at her. "This--this cannot be proper, Mister Mor-gan--" Irene tried to reason, her voice gone reedy. "What if-"

"You just washed yourself, ma'am." Arthur drawled from between her thighs, rubbing his stubbled cheek against the inside of her leg teasingly. "Ain't nothin' else that concerns me if you're likin' it."

"I...oh, Lord, I can't think." Was her shaky response. "Wh-What are you doing to me, Arthur?"

"Showin' you how the worst outlaw this side of Saint Denis pleases a woman." He growled, the words hanging heated and sharp as a knife in the air between them before he resumed the sweet toil of eating her out.

She whined high, her fingers kneading at his scalp making his eyes roll shut in satisfaction. "Ar-thur, I--oh, Jesus, Arthur!" Irene sobbed when he lashed her clit with his tongue, rolling over it again and again.

"That good, hmm?" Arthur asked rhetorically, smiling against her when all he got was a moan in reply. She was so damn hot on his tongue, her core soaked with desire just from his heavy petting. That she had never experienced pleasure with a man was asinine, and Arthur privately vowed to give her everything that he could. Fastening his lips down over her clit, he swept his tongue back and forth in a tick-tocking motion that made her nails dig into his scalp.

That's not just something they put in the books so women don't decide to never get bedded?

"Gotta' admit," Arthur said, pulling away for a moment. "I'm a little curious about those books you been readin' if women are gettin' bedded in 'em." He continued with a teasing grin, full-blown laughing when Irene covered her face and shook her head, groaning. "What, no recommendations for me, Miss Irene? I enjoy a good piece of literature as much as the next feller!"

"You are cruelty incarnate, Arthur Morgan." She huffed.

Arthur relented, delving back into her with his fingers and tongue as an apology. He assumed from the half-stifled whimpers of don't stop that he was forgiven his transgressions. "You taste so damn good." He muttered, rumbling in approval when her hips rocked upwards and filled his greedy mouth with her cunt. "So damn good, wanna' get every last drop of this treat."

"A-Arthur--" she panted, "I feel...oh God, I…"

Her cunt pulsed under his touch and Arthur stroked his thumb gently over her slit as she came apart for him, every contraction making her slick folds twitch. "There we go," he soothed while she bucked and trembled. "There we go. Nice and easy, Miss Irene." He felt an odd sense of triumph, like when he managed to pick a troublesome stone out of the divot of Chase's frog. Androcles didn't have quite the same ring as Arthur, however.

Irene's chest was rising and falling rapidly, the woman still gasping for air. Arthur was unprepared for when she seized the front of his shirt and pressed her mouth to his own, whimpering even as she licked at his tongue. Arthur exhaled hard, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her back. Probably more roughly than he should have.

"You okay?" He panted, his nose brushing her own when he reluctantly pulled back an inch or so.

"Yes, God yes." She sighed, embracing him and giving him a dazed, oddly grateful smile. "Are you...I-I mean, would you like to…" Irene tried to ask, that sweet blush making its way down to her shoulders.

Arthur cupped her breast again, rolling over the tight little peak with his thumb. "'Would I like to'...what?" He questioned playfully. "Use those pretty words of yours, Irene."

"I'm scared." She told him honestly, her breath hitching at his touches. "I...it's unbecoming to be so wanton-"

"Honest, Irene. The word you're lookin' for is honest. Ain't nothin' wrong with knowin' what you want." Arthur hurried to interject. "The only sin is helpin' yourself to what ain't freely given."

"Arthur…" she trailed off, staring at him like she had never seen him before.

He cleared his throat after a minute. "Yeah?"

"I...thank you, Arthur. I wouldn't have--thank you for saying that." Irene laughed, "suppose now you're the one saying what I need to hear."

"I s'pose so." Arthur agreed, grimacing when a flash of lightning lit up the tent. Thunder rolled after a time, the storm still a ways away. His hands moved to the buttons on his shirt, easing them open one by one. Irene had herself propped up on her elbows again, and Arthur wouldn't say her expression didn't do wonders for his ego. "You'll catch flies if you don't close your mouth, Miss Irene."

She snapped her mouth shut, turning her head away with a nervous giggle. "Sorry! I-I apologize, I know staring is rude."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Irene." Arthur said softly, his hands falling into his lap after he shrugged free of his shirt. He saw her eyes dart over towards him, the woman clearly trying to be more surreptitious about her peeping. "Ma'am, you are buckass on my bedroll. You're more than welcome to look." He drawled, his words laced with a confidence he didn't exactly feel. He knew what he looked like.

Irene covered her eyes, and then peeked through her fingers at him. "Are...are you certain?" Instead of replying verbally, Arthur just began unbuttoning his placket. "Arthur, I...oh." She mumbled as he shoved his pants off of his hips and down his legs, freeing up his cock. "Oh, Lord." Her hand actually moved like she wanted to touch him, but she flinched back.

Arthur groaned low in his throat, pleasantly warmed by her reaction. It had been far too long since he had indulged himself, and even longer since he'd had such lovely company while doing so. "You can touch me, y'know." He offered, and her hand crept forward again.

"It...I won't hurt you?" Irene asked worriedly, her fingers hovering in midair just above his turgid cock. The damn thing was already slick with pre-spend, droplets continuing to leak forth as though his whole body was just waiting for her to be brave.

"Touch gentle-like." Arthur instructed, gritting his teeth when she circled the head of his dick with the pad of her index finger. "Jesus Mary n' Joseph-" he cursed under his breath, the sensation of her fondling him like the lightning outside had leaped into his blood. Then, "your husband didn't let you touch him?"

"I was told to be still and quiet for him." Irene replied absently, her attention blatantly elsewhere as she drew her finger up and down the side of his cock. "He didn't last long. I assume he feared if I touched him, his fuse might shorten even further."

Arthur tried to stifle his snort of laughter to no avail, waving off the inquisitive look she gave him. "Sorry, sorry. I'm just...I ain't really surprised, is all." He quipped, feeling more than a bit smug. He choked on his next breath when she wrapped her fingers around his cock, the woman seeming to gauge the weight of him in her palm.

"It's not nearly so terrifying when I can see it." Irene remarked bluntly, trailing her thumb over the sensitive head.

Arthur grunted, catching her wrist. "Easy now, Irene. I'll freely admit eatin' you out mighta' shortened my own fuse, don't take it personal." He pressed another kiss to the inside of her wrist, nipping at the tender skin there and hearing her gasp softly. "I'd like to bed you very, very much, Miss Irene." He breathed. "Show you how it ought to be."

"I…" Irene hesitated, the pattering of the rain and the encroaching thunder the only sound in the tent for a moment. "It won't hurt?"

"I hope not. But if it does, you tell me an' I'll stop." Arthur murmured, framing her face with his large hands so she couldn't hide from him. "I swear it, Irene. I ain't gonna' hurt you if I can help it." He promised fervently. "Not that kinda' man, okay?"

"I know you're not." Strong words. Brave, considering her history, her lack of knowledge about his past and her current vulnerable state. "Oh, but…" she paused, then carried on stiffly, "Arthur, if I get pregnant-"

"T-There's...ways to prevent that." He should have...it wasn't impossible to get ahold of condoms, in spite of the advertising restrictions. He felt like an idiot. "I don't have...I mean, I'll be careful." Lord, since when did he talk about this so openly? Lightning flashed like punctuation on his sentence. Irene looked pensive, her eyes wide in the dim light, but Arthur would have sworn he saw relief there.

"I know there are more ways than one. My father was a doctor," was her even reply. "Please do what you can. I'm sorry I'm not more prepared."

"Irene…" Arthur was at a loss, cradling her head to his chest. "You trust me?" He asked for the second time that day, his voice a hard rasp.

"Yes."

No hesitation. Arthur closed his eyes, warring with himself. Nothing that he knew about was foolproof. But nothing that her father could have known about was foolproof either, aside from abstaining altogether. Things could fail.

They would be careful, he assured himself. "Okay." He croaked out, trying for a smile. "Lay down with me."

Irene obliged without question, seeming a bit confused when he had her straddle his hips. Arthur pulled her to his chest for a slow, sloppy kiss, feeling his cock slide against her wet little cunt when he rolled his hips upwards. Irene gasped out his name, her hands clutching helplessly at the bedroll beneath them. "A-Arthur!"

"Yes, Irene?" The man drawled against the shell of her ear, smirking into her skin as she whined.

"Th-This is--"

"Different, I know. Maybe considered unseemly. But I want you as close as I can get you, Irene. And…" Arthur paused, burying his face in the curve of her throat. "Want you to be able to get away from me if you need to, okay?" He explained softly. "Ain't gonna' hurt my feelin's, I promise."

Her exhale was a sharp little thing, as though she had just been pricked by a thorn. "You won't make me stay?"

"Not if you don't want to, no." Arthur answered firmly, taking no offense to her query. "You say stop, I stop." As much as he hated to admit it, this wasn't exactly his first rodeo with someone like Irene. People like him tended to be...heavy-handed, so a little caution and consideration went miles.

She kissed him hard then, making Arthur groan into her mouth when she wrapped her fingers around his cock and stroked him between their bodies. He knew he must have throbbed in her grip, because she tightened her hold momentarily in response. "I'm...going to put this inside me now." Irene announced, a little awkwardly.

Arthur chuckled, the noise quickly dissolving into a gasp as she shifted her weight and the head of his cock pushed past her slick folds, Christ she was hot-

The man tangled his fists into the bedroll so he didn't grab onto her and rut upwards like he instinctively wanted to do, his breath coming in harsh, raspy pants as she slowly worked herself down on his cock. "Mary mother of-" Her little sighs and moans had Arthur gritting his teeth to the point that his jaw ached. "You alright?" He managed to ask, daring to raise his hands to rest on her thighs.

"Yes." Irene breathed, the smile on her face a moment later looking like sheer bliss. Arthur was a goner.

"You sure?" He had to verify, his hands traveling upwards to cup her face. "Feels good for me no matter what, you know that. Need it to be good for you, too."

Her eyes opened and she looked down at him, stealing the breath out of his chest as she threaded her fingers into his hair. "It's already good. Now make it better."

…

"So what will you do now?" Arthur asked sleepily, nuzzling his nose into her tousled curls. The rain pattering on the canvas of the tent was lulling him into a doze. The air had cooled considerably in the wake of the storm. thank the Lord for small favors.

Irene's sigh gusted across his collarbone. "Not certain. I never dreamed to think about what would happen if I was truly free. Ever since I found out about him being dead, I've...I'm not sure how to explain it. There is relief, of course, but also a type of dread. I have grown used to this nomadic lifestyle. I have grown used to not being tied down by civilization."

"You sure 'bout that?" Arthur chuckled, "you still talk like you're sittin' in a parlor enjoyin' tea with the high society."

"Oh, you and I both know that you catch more flies with honey, Mister Arthur." He felt her smile against his chest, "I...there was a sort of interlude to this life that I found enjoyable when I believed I was still hiding. A simplicity. I knew I could not settle anywhere with other folk, not for very long anyway, as it would make it more and more difficult to hide who I was. So I did not want to settle anywhere." She hummed, stretching languidly against his side.

Arthur rumbled, his hands wandering over her deliciously-naked body. "You still feel that way, Irene?"

"I don't want to go back." She murmured. "There's nothing there for me anymore. Yet I don't think I truly belong anywhere just yet."

"How about with me?" Arthur offered quietly, tilting her chin up so he could cover her throat with kisses. He rolled onto his side and pulled her back to his chest, continuing to nudge his nose against the side of her jaw until she giggled that he was tickling her. "You could come join the gang." Bold words, he realized a little too late. "I'm sure the other gals would love you, and Dutch-"

Irene shook her head and Arthur fell silent, burying his face in her curls to inhale her scent with a sort of forlorn resignation. "It's very kind of you to offer, Mister Arthur, but I'm afraid foisting myself upon an already established group would be a recipe for disaster. In a way, I am still uncertain of my identity. Despite my age, I have never really...been myself. I have always been something else, had some role strapped to my back. Now that I've truly shed it, I'll need time to settle into being who I ought to be." She threw him a smile over her shoulder. "Whether Frank, Irene, or some amalgamation of the two, I am uncertain. But I do know this: I am glad to have met you, Arthur Morgan. For you helped me banish the burden of fear that bowed my shoulders so readily. I thank you from the bottom of my heart."

Arthur was silent for a time, mulling everything over. "Suppose I'd better make the most of this then, huh?" He asked finally, gesturing upwards at the roof of the tent. "Don't sound like that rain is plannin' on stoppin' anytime soon." His cock twitched against her rear, and he grunted when she shifted her weight.

"Like this?" Irene asked curiously, raising her leg and hooking it over the back of his thigh so his freshly-awakened cock could rub across her folds.

Arthur huffed out a breath, seizing her hip with one hand to keep her still. "You're playin' a dangerous game, woman." His voice grated a bit.

"You don't scare me, Arthur Morgan." She replied playfully.

Because you don't know who I am. If you did...maybe I would.

Arthur closed his eyes to ward off that dark thought, and in his moment of distraction her hand wrapped around his cock and she canted her hips back, guiding him inside her once again.

It was like finally coming home, a soothing balm for the spirit that had been forced to wander for so long. Arthur sheathed himself as deep as he dared, her breathy cries of his name more than enough praise to keep him warm in the no-doubt solitary months to come.

"Irene, Irene, you're beautiful." He clumsily complimented her, his lips pressed to her ear so she could hear whatever fool thing came out of his mouth. "God dammit, you are so beautiful. Perfect." His hands found her breasts, cupping and caressing them until she was writhing, bucking back against him in a manner that was downright wanton.

He loved it. The feeling of her around him, beside him, underneath his hands…

Arthur Morgan did not consider himself a good man. He did not consider himself a particularly smart man either. But right now, right now, he considered himself to be a remarkably lucky man.

"I'm close-" he choked, growling when Irene clenched down on him and keened to announce her own climax. Arthur nearly spent himself inside her, only just managing to pull out and spill his seed on her thigh instead. He snarled as he came, the sensation of his hand downright disappointing after being so deep in her. "Christ alive, Irene." He panted startled when she gently palmed his still hard cock and carefully urged it back inside her. "Easy, woman--"

"I just like the feeling, that's all." Irene assured him, shivering and arching her back against his chest as she moved into a downright luxurious stretch.

Arthur groaned, wrapping his arms around her to keep them pressed together. His hands rested at the apex of her thighs, and he stroked absently over the skin he found there. "I'd love to have stayed inside you, but I know neither of us are keen on bringin' a new young'un into the world." He tried to smile, tried to make it a joke.

"Maybe someday."

Irene's nonchalant, sleepy words hit Arthur like a punch to the gut. What was this woman doing to him? Arthur loathed himself for the way his heart hitched, ached at the idea of having a child. For the longest time in his younger years he had deluded himself into thinking that he might have something like that with Mary, dreaming about domesticity of all things. Going out and teaching little Jack how to fish had been torture, because all he could think about was John leaving the boy behind and Jesus Christ, how could a person ever do something like that?

"I think I'm gettin' a little too old." He admitted quietly. "Think the ship's sailed on that one. Plus, I mean, with the stuff I'm involved in…" he trailed off, tightening his hold ever so slightly. Irene yawned, snuggling down into his arms. He kissed her cheek. "Ah, don't mind me, Irene. I'll wake you up if anythin' happens."

She drifted off so quickly, leaving Arthur alone with his thoughts. He eventually pulled away from her, a hand on her back to keep her still, and he felt a ridge beneath his fingertips. Squinting in the dim light of the tent, he realized it was a scar. And it wasn't alone, her back was fairly riddled with them.

His stomach dropped in dismay. Arthur was not free of his own scars, of course. The ones on his chin were freely visible, and the rest of his body bore a fair amount of mileage to that end. He hadn't had an easy time of it. No one in the Van Der Linde gang had.

He untied the tent flap and propped it open after shuffling back into his pants, lighting the remains of his cigarette. The older man stared out at the rain for a good long while, his mind thousands of miles away as the cigarette slowly burned to ash between his lips. Tomorrow morning, perhaps the morning after that if he was fortunate enough to steal a bit more time, they would part ways once more, cast themselves adrift to the tides of fate.

He might never see her again.

After the weeks he had spent, wondering whether the phantom woman in the Valentine hotel had been nothing but a figment of his imagination...and now, knowing that she was real, flesh and blood...

Arthur lit another cigarette and reached for his satchel, tugging free his journal and then settling in to sketch her sleeping form. Here and now, in this secret clearing, he would eke out some semblance of peace. The graphite stub swept across the page, capturing forever the curve of her cheek, the glorious mess of that chestnut-brown hair, the wrinkles of the blanket that he had draped over her in case the breeze grew too ambitious.

Turns out the man I THOUGHT was Frank was actually -IRENE-. The world does so love to afflict me with its twists and turns...

Bonus: A Brief Diversion

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x original female character #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 fandom #rdr2 spoilers #rdr2 community #hurt/comfort #and now the good stuff #welcome to my indulgence #I am a simple man #high honor arthur

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banshee1013 · 4 years ago

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Suptober Day 10 - Sweet Rides

OMG I GOT ONE DONE ON TIME (well, sorta, HAHA).

I finally managed to keep myself to a pencil drawing only, still took me 4 hours but I’m pretty pleased with it.

Then I stayed up until 1:30am finishing the fic - which was supposed to be a FICLET - 2k later! Oops.

Anyway, here’s Day Ten! Now to figure out what to do for tomorr... uh, later today, haha.

====================================

Overall Title: The Road Less Traveled

Overall Rating: Mature (may change to Explicit, we’ll see how it goes)

Tags: Castiel/Dean, mention of Sam/Eileen, Post-Season 15, ExAngel!Cas, MostlyRetiredHunter!Dean, Road Trip

(Note: all ficlets are unbeta’d. At the end of the month, I’ll wrap up whatever I manage to get written, clean it up, get it beta’d, and post to AO3. So please pardon any mistakes!)

========================================================

CHAPTER FIVE - SWEET RIDES

Words: 2026

Dean’s fingers drum a one-handed beat on the steering wheel, keeping time with John Bonham coming over the speakers. His other hand, resting on the bench seat next to him, is loosely entwined with Cas’.

After their rainy weekend interlude at Rufus’ cabin, Cas has been extra hands-on; never out of contact with Dean in one way or another for very long - and Dean has zero complaints with this development.

Giving a quick squeeze, he disengages his hand from Cas’ and flips the turn signal, sliding over to the lane for I-5 North.

Cas up to this point has been focused on the passing scenery with half-lidded eyes and soft smile, quiet and seemingly lost in thought. Dean had squeezed his hand a few times during the eight hour drive from the cabin, checking to see if he’d dropped off, but every time Cas had turned to him, returning the squeeze; the look in his eyes full of love and warmth, and Dean will do anything to keep Cas looking at him like that.

This time, Cas turns to him, but his eyes are now full of curiosity.

“I-5 North? I thought you wished to go south after we reached the west coast?”

“Thought we’d make a pit stop first.” Dean smirked to himself, recalling the conversation with Sam yesterday when he’d called to check in and found out they were headed to Seattle.

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

“Seattle, huh? Helluva drive just to get some Starbucks!” Sam snorted, his voice echoing slightly with the speakerphone on so he can sign the conversation to Eileen.

“Haha, Sammy. No way am I getting Starbucks in Seattle - that’s like going to Italy and getting McDonalds.” Dean paused, glancing over his shoulder toward the bedroom, the Cas-shaped blanket-covered lump in the bed still unmoving, and silently cursed himself for not setting his phone on silent.

He desperately wanted to be back in there with him.

“So, everything alright? I gotta go, things to do.” More like someONE to do…

Sam did not sound convinced but didn’t push the issue. “Nah, all good here. Eileen and I are back at the bunker and just wanted to make sure you didn’t end up in a ditch somewhere.” Sam chuckles at his own joke, then continues, “Hey, I know where you should go… y’know, when you get to Seattle.”

Dean sighs - now that he knows nothing is wrong, he’s tempted feign a bad connection and hang up - but he’s genuinely curious to find out what Sam is going to suggest. “Yeah? Do tell.”

“You should get some Dick’s.”

“Hahaha very funny, “ Dean growls, and moves to hang up when Sam yells, “Wait, WAIT!”

“WHAT?” Dean grimaces at the volume of his voice and glances over at his shoulder again. Cas stirs and rolls over but doesn’t wake. “What?” he says again, quieter.

“I mean, you should go eat a Dick’s.” Sam giggles, and Dean hears Eileen's soft laugh in the background.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m outta here.” Dean pulls the phone back from his ear once again and starts to hang up when he hears Eileen’s voice - “Dean, wait!”

With a mighty sigh, he puts the phone back to his ear and hears a smack in the background; an open palm against muscle and cloth, followed by Eileen’s voice: “Stop BEING a dick and tell him.”

“Okay, okay. You guys are no fun.” Sam speaks into the phone again. “It’s a fast food place out there. ‘Best burgers in America’ according to Esquire Magazine.”

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

Cas’ brow pinches in confusion and it’s still the most adorable thing ever. “Pit stop? Why are we stopping for pits?” His eyes narrow. “Are they peach pits? Do you need to distill cyanide from them?”

Dean can’t help himself - he outright guffaws. “No, no cyanide, why would I… I mean, we’re making a detour, stopping somewhere here in Seattle before heading south.”

“Ah, very well then.” Cas tilts his head. “Is it for coffee? I hear Starbucks is headquartered here, I suppose acquiring some from the original source might be interesting.”

“NO Starbucks… seriously, why does everyone…,” Dean pauses, then carefully schools his face into a serious expression, “We’re going for Dick’s.”

“EXCUSE ME?”

“BURGERS!” Dean manages to gasp out as he gets the laughter under control. “It’s a burger place Sam told me about. ‘The most life-changing burger joint in America’ or so Esquire Magazine would have you believe.” Turning to Cas, he arches an eyebrow. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

~~~ *** ~~~

“What the… Cas, I think I’m gonna be sick.”

No, it wasn’t from the burgers - Dean hadn’t even gotten to those yet. He’s not even sure if they can.

As they pulled into the parking area for Dick’s Drive-In, he had slammed on the brakes, Baby coming to a sudden stop with a squeal of rubber on pavement at the sight before him.

The parking lot was full - of Impalas.

Black 1967 Impalas to be exact. DOZENS of them, all in a row.

Some had their trunks open, the inside of the lids decorated with devil traps and wards. Others had green coolers nearby, identical to the one in his backseat.

The squeal of tires had drawn the attention of the people gathered around, and one in particular waves and makes his way over to them.

“Oh shit, no no no…” Dean mutters, then quickly plasters on a wan smile as the guy approaches his window and leans on the sill.

“Hey there, I”m Davis, President of the Seattle chapter of the Supernatural Haunted Impalas club.” Dean glanced down at the man’s outstretched hand, briefly considers peeling rubber out of the parking lot and reluctantly decides against it - the last thing they need is a APB out on them for decapitating a guy in full view of witnesses - and takes the guy’s hand.

“hi, uh… De.. Daniel. I”m Daniel… uh, Dan, and this is… “ Releasing the guy’s… Davis’... hand, he turns to Cas, eyes wide and imploring.

Thankfully, Cas gets it. “Calvin,” Cas says, taking Davis’ hand and giving it a solemn shake - up and down, twice, and a quick release - “You can call me Cal.”

Davis blinks, then gives them a broad smile. “Nice to meet you boys. We’re all just parked over there, find a spot and come say hi!” He leans back, his smile widening. “Nice cosplay, by the way - Dean, I presume, and you must be Endverse Cas, am I right?” He throws fingerguns and a wink before turning to head back to the group.

“We should leave… yeah, we should definitely get the HELL OUTTA HERE…” Dean looks over his shoulder, trying to figure out the quickest way to bail on the situation; but just then, a loud rumble erupts from Cas’ stomach.

“Dean…” Cas sighs. “I’m very hungry, and you promised me a life-changing burger.” He gestures at the group, many of whom are now actively watching them. “And they’ve already noticed us. We might as well go and order the burgers, and then make an excuse to leave.” He drops puppy-dog eyes to rival Sam’s, and Dean knows he has no recourse but to go through with the charade - at least long enough to get a burger.

“FINE. We’ll order the burgers, make nice with locals while they’re cookin’, and then get the hell outta Dodge.”

Dean pulls into a spot at the end of the long line of Baby Wanna-Be’s. No sooner had they climbed out and closed the doors, a bubbly brunette bounces over to them.

“Hey guys, you look great! And wow, your Baby is GORGEOUS! What’s her name?” She claps a hand over her mouth in dismay. “Oh, of course, I shouldn’t assume gender. What’s your Baby’s name?”

Dean’s lips part but nothing comes out, at a loss for words - then, “Baby.”

The bouncy brunette blinks, then nods, the smile returning. “Uh, great! Awesome!” She extends her hand. “I’m Brittany, and this is my girl, Gertrude,” indicating the Impala parked next to them.

Dean has to admit - Gertrude is in great shape. “Hi, Brittany, I”m De… Dan.” He passes an admiring gaze over the car. “She’s beautiful.”

Brittany blushes fiercely. “Thank you so much! She’s my pride and joy.”

Dean can’t help but grin - he gets it. “I know how you feel.” He starts toward the car, his interest piqued now.

Cas grabs his elbow. “Dean… uh, DAN,” he stammers. “We should order our food first.”

“Oh, right! Of course.” He turns back to Brittany. “Give us a moment? We’re starving.”

Brittany nods like her head is on a swivel. “OH of course! We’re not going anyway, go feed your boyfriend!” She turns back to Gertrude and strikes up a conversation with another couple.

They make their way to the order counter with no further distractions and order their food, both choosing the “Dick’s Deluxe” with fries and milkshakes, then wander over to the group of Impala owners.

By the time their food is ready, Dean is genuinely surprised at how much fun he’s actually having - the Impala owners are friendly and really know their cars, the pride of ownership evident - and Dean can’t help but respect that. However, they of course are also just as fanatical about Chuck’s books, which Dean struggles to hide his discomfort with.

As they head back to the counter to pick up their food, Dean turns to Cas. “I dunno about all this, Cas - they’re really into Chuck’s books and they have no idea what a tool he was.” His head drops with a sigh. “Should we tell them?”

“No, Dean.” Cas looks back over his shoulder at the group, their laughter and happy voices carrying across the parking lot. “They’re happy; the books have brought them together, given them friendship - a family, even.” He shakes his head. ‘Chuck used those words to manipulate you, but they have no power over you - over US - anymore. This way, they serve a good purpose.”

Dean blinks - he hadn’t thought of it that way. Of course Cas is right.

“Yeah... and look at all the sweet rides that came from them!”

~~~ *** ~~~

They gather their food order and head back to say their goodbyes, but the group appear to be packing up anyway - trunks being closed and coolers returned to their backseats.

Davis approaches them. “Hey guys… we’re about to head out, but we’re only going over to Golden Gardens Park to watch the sunset and hang out around the fire pits. You’re welcome to join.” He nudges Dean with his elbow. “The group’s really taken a shine to you,” he says with a bright grin, “and your Baby, of course.”

Dean turns to Cas, throwing an arm over his shoulder. “Whadda ya say, sweetheart? Our first sunset…” he shakes the bag of food in his other hand, “and dinner on the West Coast?”

“I would love to, Dean.” Cas’ eyes are bright, his smile soft and warm and Dean really wants to kiss him right now, but… company.

“Adorable,” Davis says, hands clasped in delight. “I love how you two stay so in character.”

~~~ *** ~~~

The last rays of the sun slip behind the Olympic Mountains, but Dean is watching Cas watch the sunset.

He’ll never get tired of the look of wonder on Cas’ face when he experiences new things.

Or for that matter, the sounds he makes, either. Listening to him moan through that admittedly fantastic burger was downright pornographic.

He places a hand on Cas’ fire-warmed cheek and turns him away from the dimming horizon.

Damn the company. He’s gonna kiss his boyfriend.

He tastes the salt from the fries, the sharp vinegar of the pickles, the rich savory flavor of the burger, the lingering sweetness of the milkshake.

He tastes the unique flavor of Cas and relishes it.

Cas threads his fingers into the hair at the back of Dean’s neck and tilts his head just so and oh, it’s so, so good.

He hears a few giggles and more than a couple “awws” and pays them no mind.

He’s way too busy thinking about a completely different type of sweet ride.

#suptober20 #Day10 #art #fic #destiel #saileen

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prolestariwrites · 5 years ago

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The Cadet [2]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Credo, Nero, Kyrie Rating: T Tags: Family, Family Drama, Angst, Mystery Chapters: 2/2 Word Count: 2727

Summary: Credo struggles to establish himself as the head of the Holy Knights while also juggling his new responsibilities as Kyrie’s guardian. When Nero comes under the scrutiny of the Order, he must choose whose side he is really on. Set pre-DMC4

A/N: Part two is here! Credo bring Nero to see Sanctus, only to find out the Order holds more secrets than he ever imagined. Thank you for reading!

Also posted on AO3 and FFNet

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

In the center is a huge wooden desk, large enough to sit ten people around easily. The front is carved with the image of Sparda, and behind it in an opulent chair sits the man himself. Credo steps through the room and gives a bow, pleased that Nero follows suit, and as he straightens he frowns to see Eder is sitting in a chair to the side. "Your Grace," he says, keeping his eyes straight ahead, "I have brought you young Nero."

Credo turns with his hand out, and he must clear his throat to get the boy to step up. "Your Holiness," Nero says wide-eyed.

"Won't you have a seat?" the old man offers with his hand extended. They both take chairs opposite of him, and Sanctus leans forward, hands folded on the desk as he looks Nero up and down. "I've heard many interesting things about you, young man," he says. "Why don't you tell me about yourself?"

Nero glances at Credo, who arches a brow. "Nothing to tell, really. Your Holiness."

Sanctus takes a long moment before replying, "I understand you are living in the orphanage. Are they treating you well there?"

Credo thinks of the threadbare blankets and the sharp tongue of the mistresses for any childlike behavior, but thankfully Nero has the wits to say, "It's fine. I'll be aged out soon."

"Just in time to join our knights," Sanctus smiles. "Why do you wish to become a guard?"

"Uh… I'd be good at it, I think?" He glances at Credo with a shrug. "Credo and Kyrie's dad always talked about me training for it, and showed me how to use a sword and everything. Dunno if I'd be good at much else really."

Credo winces internally, but Sanctus gives a little smile. "You were very close to him, yes?"

Nero nods. "He was nice. Took me in when he didn't have to."

"Mm hmm. Any reason in particular?"

Credo frowns at the question. What did that have to do with anything? But Nero, now loosening up, answers, "Like I said, he was a good guy. Must have seen something in me, I don't know."

Sanctus nods, his smile a bit wider. "Seen something indeed." He glances down at the paper on his desk, and Credo can feel his heart picking up speed. "Tell me about that little incident in the woods. I want to hear all about it."

"Sure! See, I went down there, because I heard Kyrie had taken some of the kids for a walk and I wanted to see if she needed help. Sometimes Joseph gets cranky when he's tired and I figured I could carry him if he was being whiny. I think I got kind of lost though, because the next thing I knew, I could hear Kyrie screaming, and when I got to her and the kids, there was this huge lizard thing—"

"We call it an Assault," Eder interjects, speaking for the first time.

Nero nods. "Yeah, so the Assault was going after her and I just… jumped between them."

He hesitates, and Credo glances sideways. Nero swallows visibly, wiping his good hand on his pants. "So what did you do?" Sanctus prompts.

"I killed it," Nero replies, his tone growing serious. "Gave it two shots with Blue Rose then finished it off with Red Queen."

Sanctus' brows lift. "Blue Rose and Red Queen?"

"Yeah! Sorry, my uh… Blue Rose is my revolver." He reaches into the holster at his side, which Credo notes curiously is now in a position for his left hand to retrieve it. "It's a double-barrel, my own design."

Sanctus gestures to the desk, and Nero places it carefully down after checking the safety. The vicar does not touch the gun, but simply leans forward to examine. "How curious," he comments.

"Revolvers are not permitted in the guard, young man," Eder says.

Credo shoots him a look. "They are permitted. Just unusual." He turns back to Sanctus and says, "Nero has learned how to use a sword. Red Queen is the sword he normally carries."

"Yeah, but it got damaged fighting the Assault thing." Nero takes the gun back and holsters it. "I'm hoping to get it back soon. That son of a bitch had this plate of armor—"

"Nero," Credo hisses. "Language."

Nero has the good sense to stammer an apology, but Sanctus merely chuckles and waves his hand. "It's alright. I was young once, if you can believe it." He tilts his head and examines Nero closely. "You must be very strong to have faced a demon all on your own. Before you reached the area, it had taken out three of our men. One of them died from his injuries. Have you always possessed such strength?"

Nero glances at Credo nervously, who only gives a slight incline of his head. Honest and succinct, he tries to project. "Uh, I guess?" Nero answers. "I mean, I can hold my own."

"You reached Kyrie before the demon could," Eder adds. "You managed to pull your gun, cock the hammer, and pull the trigger in a matter of, what? A second or two? Your reflexes are impressive."

"Thanks," Nero replies.

"Not to mention," Eder continues, "having the wherewithal to know what to do. From the report I read, you shot the demon directly into its skull, causing a massive blood loss. Even if you hadn't stabbed its heart afterward, it would have died. You also knew where to strike it to kill it cleanly, even if you did miss the first—"

"Excuse me," Credo interrupts. "Can you get to the point? I'm sure His Holiness has many important appointments."

Eder smiles and inclines his head. "Fine. Nero, who taught you how to kill demons?"

Credo feels his blood run cold. So that is where this is going? That information is closely held within the Order, and it is well known that his own father had trained Nero in the use of a sword. Is he looking to use the boy to slander their family? But Nero has been instructed to answer truthfully, so he winces waiting for him to name his father. His mind races as he tries to figure out a reason that will move the suspicion from them, wondering what his father was thinking, giving this knowledge to someone as unpredictable as Nero.

To his surprise, Nero says, "Nobody taught me."

All three men turn to look at him, and Nero shrugs. "I just knew I guess."

"You just knew?" Sanctus asks. "You must have heard it somewhere, or learned it from a book?"

"Nope," Nero replies. "I saw the lizard thing and just moved. It just happened."

Sanctus and Eder exchange a subtle glance. "Well then I'm even more impressed," the vicar says. "I see a very bright future for you, Nero."

Nero beams, and Credo lets out a slow breath. "Thanks, Your Holiness," Nero says with a grin.

"Before you go, I must ask something delicate." Credo tries not to sag in his chair as Sanctus places his hands on Nero's application. "I understand you were abandoned as a baby. No one has ever been able to trace your parentage?"

"No, Sir," Nero replies.

Credo notes the slight blush on his neck and interjects, "The orphanage did its due diligence in searching for his parents. Many concluded that it was a visitor to the island, not one of its inhabitants."

"That was never the official conclusion," Eder says.

Credo scowls, spying the way Nero's expression twists in embarrassment. "Does that matter though?" he asks, his voice going up in pitch. "I mean, if I don't know my parents, can I not be a guard?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Credo hisses. "Having parents is not a prerequisite. And I'm not sure what that has to do with the application," he adds, looking back and forth between the two men.

"Just one more question." Eder smiles. "I see you have not yet recovered from your injury fighting the Assault. Are you certain you'll be able to complete the physical tests if you are not healed?"

Nero grabs his right arm, holding it tightly against his chest. "I'll be fine," he insists. "I feel fine, it's just… just kind of sore is all."

He is clearly lying, but the others do not question it, so Credo makes a mental note to inspect his arm closer later. "That's all I have to ask," Eder says with a nod. "Your Holiness?"

"I have heard enough." Sanctus waves towards Nero. "Run along now, and let us talk to Credo."

"Yes, Sir." Nero stands awkwardly before giving a quick bow to Sanctus. He nearly trips running out the door, and it slams shut behind him, making Credo wince.

He turns back to Sanctus who is chuckling to himself. "What did you think, Eder?"

"It's possible. I'm not convinced, however."

Credo frowns. "What's possible? Convinced of what?"

Eder gives him a cold smile, but Sanctus answers, "What we tell you now only a few members of the council know. And honestly I'm only sharing this information with you because we will need your assistance in the coming weeks."

Nodding, he sits up straighter in the chair. "You have my word, Sir."

Sanctus nods. "Very good. The Order is preparing to bring the word and works of Sparda to the world. In order to do that, we will need to make a grand gesture. There are certain protocols we are preparing in order to make that happen."

He pauses as if to gauge Credo's reaction. "How can I be of service?"

"For now, keep a close eye on Nero. A very, very close eye. It is possible we will need to use him in the near future."

Something in the way Sanctus says those words have his nerves on edge. "Use him, Sir?" Credo asks. "How?"

The two exchange a glance again, and Eder says, "Did you know that Sparda had a son?"

"A son?" He frowns and thinks of the texts he has studied. "No, I didn't know that. When did you discover that?"

"Not long ago some artifacts were found that are believed to belong to Lord Sparda." Credo nods; everyone knew that the Order had discovered some items that could be traced back to the savior, but what exactly no one could really say. "Based on the accounts we have gathered, they were left there by accident, after an incident that occurred nearly sixteen years ago."

"Sixteen years ago?" Credo's brows go up as he looks back at Sanctus. "What do you mean?"

"There is a city in which a mysterious tower was raised, and demons poured from its doors for three days and three nights," Sanctus replies. "But there was a man with a sword who drove the evil back, with a red coat and silver hair. His fighting techniques are similar to those described in our texts. Since Lord Sparda is the only being who has saved humanity from the demon scourge, we can only conclude that he is the son of Sparda himself."

Credo's mouth drops open for a moment before he quickly closes it. "You don't think—"

"It could not be Nero, as he was just an infant at the time," Sanctus says.

"But the timeline does work," Eder continues. "And considering the artifacts were left on the shore the same time a child was left at the orphanage… well by your own evidence, Credo, Nero could be connected."

He shakes his head. "It's impossible. Nero, related to Sparda? There's no proof!"

"The timeline. The unusual hair." Eder leans forward in his chair, his smile widening. "His uncanny ability to kill demons. Or was that something your father taught him? I would never have believed such a respected man would share sensitive Order information with a boy."

"He didn't!" Credo jumps to his feet, his heart racing. "My father dedicated his life to the Order, as have I. There is nothing he could have done to betray us!"

"Credo," Sanctus says quietly, and he whirls on the vicar. "There are some circumstances of which you are not aware. We tried to shield you and your lovely sister from the truth."

"What truth?" His blood pumps furiously, his emotions churning at the accusation. His father had been a revered member of the council. Hadn't he?

Sanctus lifts his chin as he says, "Your father was speaking out against the Order. He was brought into some… sensitive information, and threatened to betray us. His views on bringing the world into the age of Sparda did not align with us. We wish to guide the world into an era of peace and happiness. He did not. In fact, he wished to end the Order."

Credo's breath catches in his throat. "That… that can't be true," he gasps, his mind whirling. "My father? No, no, he—served Sparda—"

"I'm afraid it's true," Sanctus says gently. "The accident that claimed his life and the life of your mother was his own evil doing. He unleashed the demons onto the world and was killed by one of them before our soldiers took them down."

"No." Credo goes pale, his hand shaking as he reaches out to lean on the vicar's desk. "No!"

The world tilts a bit as his legs go weak. It can't be true, but Sanctus would not lie. He is the voice of Sparda himself, and incapable of any falsehood. Eder is by his side, helping him sit, and despite his dislike for the man, Credo allows him gratefully. "Now you see," Eder murmurs. "If Nero is involved, or if your father corrupted him somehow, he needs to be watched. Already the boy is using a gun as a weapon, and his skills outmatched three men without training. He is dangerous, but under our guidance, our influence, we can make him a tool for good."

Credo nods. His only thoughts, however, are of Kyrie: Kyrie leaning in to speak to Nero as they eat dinner, Kyrie excitedly knitting Nero a scarf for winter, Kyrie pressed against the pantry door as she returned Nero's demanding kiss. "I see," he stutters. "I will… I will watch him." He looks up at Sanctus, who inclines his head. "I will train him myself. And if he threatens the Order or anyone in Fortuna, I will deal with him personally."

Sanctus smiles. "Very good. I am glad you are on our side."

Credo takes a deep breath and murmurs his thanks, sliding back into his chair. Memories of his father war in his head with this revelation, and he pictures him and the time he spent with Nero. Nero, who was a scrappy and ill-behaved boy at the orphanage, who would shoot paper balls during service and get Kyrie covered in mud with their antics. He never understood why his father would take such an interest in him, but it all makes sense now.

"Come back tomorrow, Credo," Sanctus says. "There is someone I'd like you to meet. One of our scientists who has been studying the artifacts we found. His name is Agnus."

Nodding, he takes his cue, standing to give a bow before heading out the door. On the walk home it all turns in his mind, trying to make sense of his parents' betrayal. Why would they release the demons? Why would they speak against the Order? It makes no sense, but Sanctus wouldn't lie. He couldn't.

When he reaches the house he shares with his sister, Credo takes a moment to gather himself before going inside. He must keep this secret from Kyrie, protect her from the terrible truth. And Nero… he must be watched, and kept close while kept away from Kyrie. He wonders briefly how he will do it, but if it means hurting them both, so be it. Credo will do his duty to the Order, and keep them all safe.

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc credo #dmc nero #nerokiri #dmc4 #dmc kyrie #fanfiction #myfic #the cadet

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avaantares · 5 years ago

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FFVII:REMAKE - A Review

So I beat the game two weeks ago and started writing down my thoughts while they were fresh in my mind, but I didn’t post anything then because my one IRL friend who is also playing it hadn’t finished it yet and I didn’t want to risk posting anything spoiler-y. But the extra time has allowed me to play through the game again on Hard difficulty, which has allowed me to reconsider and elaborate on some of my thoughts. And frankly at this point I just need to dump my Very Big Opinions somewhere, so... here ya go.

I discuss visuals, gameplay, character and story below. I’ve tried to keep spoilers minimal up front, though obviously if you want to go into the game totally cold, don’t read this. All major spoilers are clearly tagged. All of it is below a cut to spare your dash.

Also, there are pretty pictures, because why not?

First, my background with this franchise: I played through the original FFVII multiple times; I’ve watched and rewatched Advent Children and Last Order, played Crisis Core, gave up on Dirge of Cerberus despite my deep love for Vincent Valentine (sorry, VV, but your game was just a mess), and lamented that Before Crisis wasn’t available in my country. I even played (and own!) Ehrgeiz, the obscure fighting game that featured the main cast. (Still bitter that they didn’t keep Miki Shinichirou as the voice of Sephiroth. He’s one of my faves.)

^ Ehrgeiz, a mediocre fighting game that forever endeared itself to me by including Turks!Vincent Valentine as a playable character. 💖

In short, I’ve been waiting for this game for DECADES.

So. Here we go. My thoughts on Final Fantasy VII: REMAKE.

The good:

The character models are very pretty. With individual pores, threads and scuffs visible, they’re so detailed that it’s almost impossible to reconcile them with the mouthless sprites from the original game – even more so than Advent Children (and dear goodness, that was over a decade ago now, wasn’t it?). Still, they’ve kept the costume details and absurd proportions largely intact (Barret’s fists are literally larger than Tifa’s entire head, yet somehow it works visually), so it’s not too much of a departure from the familiar.

They’ve kept the aesthetic. I was afraid the game would try to update the iconic world of Midgar, but by and large, it’s full of visually-arresting designs that preserve the gritty-industrial look and feel of the original.

Japanese version is included. BLESS YOU, Square Enix, for including the Japanese voices and character animations. Not only is it impossible for me to hear Cloud in anything other than Sakurai Takahiro’s voice, but the Japanese script is a bit nicer to the characters. I’m not really keen on the English dub… but more on that below.

They fixed the spelling of Aerith’s name. This may seem like a minor point, but considering it’s been 20 years and I’m still bitter that Devil May Cry still hasn’t corrected “Nelo Angelo,” it’s a small victory.

Improved combat. Admittedly, I wasn’t sold on the new combat system at first, but after playing through the game twice, I’ve come to really like it. It has a few rough edges and can get chaotic in some battles, but it does a decent job of blending the feel of an action game with turn-based strategy. The fact that you can switch to a more traditional turn-based system if you prefer is also nice. (I haven’t tried Classic mode yet, though.)

Weapon customization. The Skill Points system allows you to upgrade your loadout instead of acquiring new gear. The tutorial was somewhat lacking (I didn’t quite figure out the multiple-core-unlock thing right away), but I appreciated the ability to add materia slots or stat buffs rather than just cycling through a dozen swords that Cloud apparently keeps in his back pocket.

Background dialogue management. On the whole, the conversations as you run through town enhance the story without slogging down the gameplay; you don’t have to stop and talk to every single resident, because snatches of their conversation reach you (and your on-screen chatlog) as you pass. You can stop and listen for more detail if you want, or you can just keep moving. The extra worldbuilding is really nice.

The music. The orchestrated versions of the original themes are excellent (and some of those music cues gave me goosebumps… Did I spend way too many hours immersed in the original game? Probably). I can take or leave some of the collectible jukebox tunes, but the background music in general is good. (But did I earn that Disc Jockey trophy? Yes, yes I did.)

Supporting character development. Jessie, Biggs and Wedge actually have characters! And personalities! Clichéd ones, admittedly, but it’s an improvement over the original game killing them all off within the first few minutes. The game also does justice to the Turks, and actually surprised me with how much depth of character it gave Reno and Rude in particular (perhaps setting them up for a mini redemption arc so players forgive them for dropping a plate on tens of thousands of slum residents?). Their moments of concern for each other and (brief) crises of conscience made them more than the stock villains they were in the original game, more in line with their temporarily good-aligned characters in Advent Children. Tseng, likewise, was on point. However, I do have to qualify all this with one irate question: Where the heck is Elena?! Seems like the female characters are always getting left out… /sigh/

Improved plot devices. REMAKE cleans up some of the more questionable and outdated content from the original. As you likely already know from the demo, the new game somewhat exonerates the protagonists by having Shinra blow up their own mako reactor to turn public opinion against AVALANCHE (possibly because someone finally realized that it’s hard to sympathize with characters who are willing to melt down an entire reactor and kill a bunch of innocent civilians). AVALANCHE are still eco-terrorists, but they’re… terrorists with a conscience? I dunno, at least they feel bad when people die now… Likewise, the weird and uncomfortable Honey Bee Inn segment of the original game has been reborn as an amazing dance extravaganza. Less voyeurism/prostitution, more Vegas floor show (complete with minigame choreography) and makeover. The whole Don Corneo scenario is still hella creepy, but frankly, there’s nothing that can fix that.

Series references. Fans of the original will appreciate all the inside jokes and direct references to the original game and other franchise entries: One-off comments about Chocobo racing; a broken console in Wall Market that shoots at you; a framed picture of the original 32-bit Seventh Heaven; ads for Banora apple juice; side mentions of characters and plot devices from spinoff games; PHS communication… The game definitely pays tribute to its history. They even recreate the original loading screen and several of Cloud’s iconic poses/animations throughout the game:

The neutral:

Recycled gags. Look, I know Advent Children was the ultimate evolution of FFVII for a while, and admittedly, it did some things very well. The running gag with Rude’s sunglasses and the victory fanfare being used as a ringtone are some of the best moments in the film, in part because they were so unexpected. But as much as I enjoyed the repeated nods to AC in this game, they felt a little desperate, like there were no new jokes to insert so they had to double down on the ones they’d used the last time this franchise had a renaissance. (See Rude’s broken sunglasses, below.) And fitting into the series as a whole, it feels a little weird. Why is Rude’s ringtone the same as the clones’ from Advent Children? Does Barret really need to sing the victory fanfare over and over when he defeats an enemy? Is there supposed to be some history behind that song that was left out of the worldbuilding? It just feels too meta.

Arbitrary localization of names. I don’t really grasp why it was necessary to rename so many items and characters for the English market. Some changes make sense for localization (e.g. Whack-a-Box certainly works better for an American audience than Crash Box), but others seem arbitrary, like changing Aniyan Kunyan to Andrea Rhodea or Mugi to Oates (a play on the meaning of his name in Japanese, but... does it matter?). And then… well, I don’t want to spoil A Major Plot Element, but there’s another thing that changes names from one English word (in the Japanese track) to a different English word. Why? No idea. It doesn’t affect gameplay, and it’s not really a problem, but listening to the Japanese track, I found it jarring to have the subtitles contradict what I was hearing.

Underutilized characters. While the whole gamut of original FFVII characters make appearances, several of them aren’t used to full effect, or aren’t used at all to advance the story. Rufus Shinra’s bossfight is a decent challenge, but while his character was vital to both the original FFVII and Advent Children, his presence in this game is little more than a cameo. His fight could be cut or swapped out with any other boss, and it would have zero effect on the plot. Similarly, while Hojo is a key player in the full story (which this game doesn’t cover, since it’s only a fraction of the original timeline), he’s largely wasted here, except as a means of extending play time by making you wander through corridors and fight a bunch of monsters for “research.” (I have no idea what his motivation is; you’d think he’d be more interested in recapturing Aerith or Cloud, but instead he just... opens an elevator and lets them leave? after they beat up some midbosses.) Reeve Tuesti actually has a solid presence in this game, but since he’s ONLY ever active as himself, there’s no explanation for the random Cait Sith cameo in one scene (players new to the franchise probably have no idea why a random cartoon cat showed up for a few seconds and was never mentioned again). Obviously the plot arcs have to change when the game is covering only a few days’ time in a much longer story, and the major players need to be introduced at some point if they’re going to feature in later games in the series, but from a narrative standpoint, there are an awful lot of superfluous characters doing things for no reason in this installment.

The bad:

THE PADDING. Dear goodness, there is so much padding to make this a standalone game instead of just the first chapter of a longer adventure. I got really, really sick of running literally from one end of the map to the other on side quests – and that’s me, an avowed trophy hunter who spends hours scouring dark corners for collectible items in other games, saying that. So much of this game felt like time fill that didn’t really advance the story. It’s also full of unnecessary new characters with improbable Squeenix hair, like Roche the super-annoying motorcycle SOLDIER (below), or Leslie, Don Corneo’s doorman who somehow merits his own backstory and side quest. (Though in fairness, every FFVII sequel has added superfluous characters, with Crisis Core possibly being the worst offender.) But it just felt really drawn-out and bloated for a game of this generation. If this game had been as compact and tightly-written as the other games I typically play, it probably only would have taken me 15 hours to beat instead of 50. (I don’t actually know how many hours I spent on it the first time through, as I didn’t check the play clock before restarting on Hard difficulty. I do know it took me over 110 hours total to complete the game on both modes, though much of the second run was spent dying repeatedly on a handful of nasty fights. Hard mode removes items and MP replenishment, and if you run out of MP at any point during a chapter, you’re going to die. A lot.)

The pacing. Related to the above... the Midgar portion of the original game was just the setup for a larger story. It wasn’t meant to have its own complete dramatic arc so much as to introduce you to the world and the major players. Consequently, there are some really odd beats in this story, as well as a total lack of urgency in your mission. There are no natural places to slot in the side quests and minigames, so they’re shoehorned awkwardly between plot sequences. “Quick, our friend is in mortal peril and needs our help!” "Okay, cool, we’ll go rescue her after we spend ten hours running around town doing random errands for townspeople and playing games with the local kids.” Uh... what?

The graphics just aren’t as good as they should be. While the character models are gorgeous, there are a lot of low-res background textures and weird polygons that don’t quite match up with other components. Most egregious are the Shinra logos, which frequently get close-ups as part of the fixed camera work and, frankly, look like lossy JPEGs. (See image below, screencapped from a PS4 Pro. Those jagged edges on the logo are present throughout the entire game.) There are weird clipping errors and artifacted images and reflective surfaces that don’t reflect, making the game look more like something from the PS3 era than a 4K late-gen PS4 game. (And it’s not that we don’t have the technology: Uncharted 4 was released back in 2016, and the rendering of its vast world was twice as pretty. Devil May Cry 5, released in early 2019, has far more realistic textures and object interaction. Granted, those are different types of games with fewer NPCs to render, but I feel like there’s no excuse for a game this big to look this mediocre.)

The HUD could be better. The lower-corners concept is okay, though it took me a while to train my eyes to travel between both sides of the screen and track the fight action. But for a long time, I didn’t even notice the commands in the upper left corner of the screen, and after playing through the game twice I still have no idea what they say because I couldn’t focus on the tiny text long enough to read them while trying not to die in combat. (I just looked it up; apparently they’re combat control shortcuts? Huh, that would have been useful to know.) It wasn’t until my second time through that I realized there even WERE separate controls on screen during the motorcycle minigames; I had resorted to panicked button mashing to figure it out the first time through because there was no tutorial (you’re just dropped into the action) and, having ignored the small text for the previous hundred combats, I had no reason to look for on-screen instructions there. Not that it would have helped, since on many backgrounds the text in the upper left is really difficult to read (see below). It’s worth noting that I have better than 20/20 vision and played this game on a large TV screen and still had trouble reading some things; on a smaller TV, or for someone with less acute vision (like my sister, who is blind in one eye), I think even the basic menu controls would be difficult to see. While you can resize the font for subtitles, my cursory glance through the menu did not uncover an option to increase the size of the HUD.

Inter-fight menu mechanics. Specifically, the inability to save (or save loadout settings) between fights in a multi-part sequence. There are several back-to-back fights in which it is necessary to switch characters or change gear between bosses. The game treats them as one continuous fight, though it does allows you to access the equipment menu by holding square during key cutscenes. Which is good, if you only have one of a particular materia or accessory that you need to switch between characters, and in most cases when you die the game lets you restart just before your current fight instead of restarting the whole sequence -- also good, since some multi-stage bosses can easily take 20-30 minutes to beat, and if several of those are strung together in sequence, you’re in for a long play session to get past them. But since it’s treated as one fight, you can’t save between bosses (more than once, I had to leave my PS4 running in Rest Mode overnight and just hoped we didn’t have a power glitch), and if you happen to get killed and need to restart the fight, your loadouts reset. Which means if you’re, say, fighting the end boss on Hard difficulty and get killed in the first two minutes -- which happened to me a lot -- by the time you restart the fight, sit through the unskippable cutscene, access the menu and rearrange all the materia and accessories you need, you’re spending five or six minutes gearing up for two minutes of play, and then doing that over and over again every time you die. It gets really old.

The English dub script. *deep breath* Okay, look, I know I can be a bit elitist about translations, but I really do not like the English adaptation of this game. It makes Cloud come across as less socially-awkward and far more of a deliberate jerk, Aerith is mouthy and even swears (which is not accurate to her original character), and it downplays some of the symbolism that’s more obvious in the Japanese script. One quick example: When Aerith gives Cloud a flower, she says (in Japanese), “In the language of flowers, this means ‘reunion.’” It’s subbed/dubbed in English, “Lovers used to give these when they were reunited.” That’s a subtle difference, but since the concept of “reunion” is a freakin’ huge part of the FFVII plot, and since Sephiroth was on screen literally seconds before that line is delivered, my brain automatically went, “OMG REUNION!!!” while I’m guessing people listening in English only picked up on the romantic subtext. It’s a pretty minor thing, and of course translation is always a complex balancing act between literal meaning and local market understanding, but the English version just seemed to me to have a different vibe overall. (Unfortunately, the English subtitles are the same as the dub, so unless you can understand the Japanese audio you’re kind of stuck with that dialogue.)

[WARNING: SPOILERS BELOW THIS POINT]

- …And my #1 complaint about Final Fantasy VII: REMAKE is…

…it’s not actually a remake.

Sure, the game starts out the same way and covers a lot of the same events, but fundamentally, it’s a sequel, not a retelling. It’s evident from Cloud’s future-oriented visions throughout the game that something else is going on, and the ending MAKES NO SENSE if you don’t already know the story. Heck, even the rest of the game doesn’t really make sense if you don’t know the story -- Sephiroth’s presence is never explained; Zack isn’t even introduced, just shows up randomly at the end; Cloud’s flashbacks of Tifa and her dead father in Nibelheim are left as a complete mystery (and since she evidently remembers the burning of her town, judging by her dialogue outside Aerith’s house, why doesn’t she even react when Sephiroth shows up?).

The core elements of the plot – the Feelers (Whispers) preserving a specific fate; the three entities from the future (whose weapon types just happen to correspond to certain named characters) defending their timeline; the return of post-Advent Children Sephiroth (the only time we’ve seen him in human form with one black wing), who has inhabited the Lifestream since his death and promised that he would never truly disappear, who in the end appeals to Cloud directly for an alliance rather than attempting to control him, because he knows now that Cloud is strong enough to defy the Reunion instinct; the change in the outcome of story events in which Biggs (and, unconfirmed as to which timeline he’s actually in, but quite possibly Zack) now survives his intended death -- all point toward Sephiroth trying to manipulate destiny into an alternate outcome in which he is victorious, and using this naive version of Cloud to facilitate it. That means this game is taking place in an alternate or splinter universe, created at some point after the events of the original Final Fantasy VII, and possibly even after the events of Advent Children.

All of that is fine from an overall continuing-story perspective – it opens up a lot of interesting possibilities, like the fact that Aerith might survive now that Cloud has seen prescient flashes of her death (among other events), and there are opportunities for more story twists and changes from what players might expect. But touting this as a remake of the original game has the potential to confuse players who are new to the franchise. FFVII was groundbreaking back in 1997, and it defined JRPGs for an entire generation of Western gamers. But that was more than two decades ago, and a lot of current gamers weren’t even born then, so while they’ve probably heard of the classic game, they aren’t necessarily steeped in its lore. FFVII:R relies heavily on prior knowledge of the series to carry its twist ending, so it largely fails as a standalone game.

Also, speaking as a longtime fan of the franchise… I honestly found the ending rather lackluster. It was a twist, of sorts, but not the sort of shocking, mind-bending revelation that made the first game so iconic. Granted, it’s hard to follow an act like revealing that your protagonist’s entire identity is a lie, not to mention killing off one of your main characters a third of the way into the story! But when the surprise ending is just, Surprise! We’re going to change things up a bit this time around so you aren’t entirely sure what’s coming! Also, here’s a gratuitous Sephiroth fight because everyone expects that, even though it doesn’t serve the main story at all nor resolve any conflicts previously established within this game! it smacks of Different for the sake of Being Different, not for the sake of a really amazing storyline they’re hiding up their sleeve. It’s a bit of a let-down, and I find that I... just... don’t really care that much. Which, for someone who’s been a fan of the series for nearly a quarter of a century, means there’s a Big Freaking Problem somewhere. If you’re not keeping the attention of your die-hard fans, how do you hope to build a fanbase of players new to the franchise?

Given the pacing and story issues inherent in this game, I’m not convinced that the following game(s) in the franchise are going to be structured any better. Considering the amount of pure side-quest padding they did in Midgar, I have no idea how they’ll maintain that same tone on something the scale of the World Map portion of the original game, unless they just completely eliminate things like Fort Condor and the submarine and the spaceship side quests. I have a feeling the Gold Saucer is going to be reduced to a Jessie flashback, a Chocobo race (probably to win a key item), and a battle arena run like the coliseum in Wall Market in this game. If they include all the story elements and side characters from the original, this series is going to be a dozen games long.

Still, on the whole this game was enjoyable, and I’m glad I played it. It wasn’t as good as I’d hoped, but they haven’t completely killed off my interest, so I’ll probably continue with the series whenever the next game comes out. Though I’m not really sure if the higher-priced edition I pre-ordered was worth the extra money, so I may wait and see how the next game is shaping up before deciding which version to get...

But if they don’t give me a really pretty (playable) Vincent Valentine in the next installment, I may riot. I do have priorities.

#final fantasy vii #final fantasy vii: remake #ff7:r #final fantasy 7: remake #ff7 remake #video games #long post #review

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insomnihan · 5 years ago

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han’s Entire Thoughts and Feelings on Dreamcatcher’s “Scream”

youtube

ITS FUCKING HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LIKE THIS IS ON GOD HAPPENING I HAVENT BEEN ABLE TO RELAX I CANNOT LET THIS WAIT ANY LONGER LETS GET IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

there are no read mores here so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

ALRIGHT SO-

THE SONG THIS F UCKING SONG WHERE👏DO👏I👏START 👏 I KNEW RIGHT WHEN I WENT ON TO LISTEN TO THE GODDAMN LYRIC SPOILER bc im an impatient little bich THIS WAS GONNA KICK MY SHINS KNEE ME IN THE NOSE AND OWN. ME. i forgot which moot i said this to but i said they should try putting their rock/metal sound with an edm kind of sound anD HERE WE ARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT SOUNDS SO GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!! this got my heart racing quick as hell even during the slower parts????????? im sorry to the beginning parts, jiu, and the bridge i cant RELAX™

CRITICISM???????? I DUNNO THAT BI TCH™

(i wont tag every part they have ill just describe some of them lmao)

JIU JIU JIU JIU JIU JIU JIU JIU JIU JIU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MISS KIM MINJI YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this, this, THIS AND THIS G O D her voice is just so perfect to start the song to ease you into this BOP™ and then her voice for those pre-chorus parts to ready you ONCE AGAIN for that chorus BUT YET its still hype as hell bc you K N O W what shes leading you into her voice is LIKE FEATHERS AND CLOUDS dont ask

yoohyeon i swear to god- her voice........................... i cannot begin.............. to even describe how nice it is.................... I DUNNO HOW SERIOUSLY like it just has that tone and power where its not very high nor very low and its just.................. lord......... going right after jiu for this it was just so UUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH- pls i CANNOT with these parts and then still being a part of the choruses MA’AM WHY DOES YOUR VOICE JUST HITS THE SPOT HUH-

sua ALSO HAS A VOICE I JUST CANNOT DESCRIBE it just has this like..................... its unique and very alluring???????? i feel like i HAVE TO SAY THIS but her voice is as sexy as she is i- putting her right after jiu and yoohyeon at the beginning HOO and then this after gahyeon and damis fire and then shes also in the CHORUS TOO AND SHE ADDS MORE STRENGTH IN HER VOICE HELLO

SIYEON I HAVE TO SAY THIS AGAIN I WOULD LISTEN TO YOUR VOICE FOREVER IF I COULD her voice is just meant to do this kind of genre i swear to GOD like THIS????????? THIS x2??????????? BICTH THIS?????????????? she just sings so effortlessly and the emotion she puts like YOU CAN FEEL THAT S HIT especially in the bridge YEESH listening now it mellowed me out for like two (2) seconds before i went feral again

PIRI GAHYEON WALKED SO SCREAM GAHYEON COULD SPRINT pls i listened to this part and i was like ‘oH OKAY SING GO AHEAD’ oh no. nononononono NECK PLOT TWIST: SHES A RAPPER AGAIN BICTH THIS RIGHT HERE THATS HOW YOU GIVE WHIPLASH- AND THIS S HIT OOF THAT HIT- her voice is a lot deeper than we think LIKE her range is actually pretty big and we LOVE to hear it

dami..................................... what the f uck- FIRST OF ALL this was Too Much already on first listen and then your rap verse DO YALL HEAR HER PASSION??????? BC I HEAR IT DONT GET ME STARTED ON THIS PART WOO!!!!! LISTEN THAT HAD ME HOPPING AND JUMPING IN MY BED ON GOD- i swear pls stop saying this han come on she has one of the most (if not THE MOST) recognizable voices EVER????????

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE DANCE FOR THIS SONG HAS GOT TO BE THE TOUGHEST CHOREO FOR THEM YET IVE SCREAMED ENOUGH ABOUT THE MASKED DANCER HOLDING HANDONGS SPOT UNTIL SHE GETS BACK AND HOW THEY HAVE GODDAMN BACKUP DANCERS LITERALLY THIS DANCE HAS SO MUCH POWER™ AND ITS SO HIGH ENERGY WHO THE FUC K IS DOING IT LIKE THEM

(i will be using the suit dance video for this portion)

JIU BEING LIFTED AT THE BEGINNING

THE CHORUS DANCES ARE YOU KIDDING ME- these parts.......................... oh s hit- and theN THE ENTIRE LAST ONE LIKE THAT ONE HITS AND MAKES YOU ITS BI-

literally both damis and gahyeons ‘devil. eyes. come.’ ESPECIALLY GAHYEONS when everyone is pointing at her (with this 🤘) thats Art™ right there

GAHYEONS RAP PART the usage of masks.................................. the symmetrical movement......................... Art™ part 2

these dances for sua and siyeons parts after the raps................... especially on the floor................ oh no- also i have to say siyeon lands on her knees really hard for that part i hope shes okay

jiu dancing by herself that is all

siyeon being Sexie™ that is all

dami stealing my heart and stomping on it that is all

ending pose with this 🤘 THE ICONIC™ AND LEGENDARY™ JUMPED OUT

THE VISUALS listen....................... LISTEN............................ LISTEN..................... L I S T E N- OKAY like my last two dreamcatcher thoughts and feelings (which if you wanna read: here and here) ill just show the scenes that i really liked (trust me it was REALLY hard to choose i might as well just put the mv again) and how i felt looking at them

............................................................................... oh f UCK-

ma’am whatever this is can you destroy me with it im ready-

OH S HIT

FOR THE WLW

but seriously whoever gave this woman a sword knows what the somnies like and wanna see and yes i too wanna get sliced the fuc k up

every time i see this i make like this songs title name and S C R E A M

i have no crazy special reason as to why i put her here other than i d worded when i saw her

GAHYEON NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

this has to be one of the coolest things ive ever seen like on god this is so Pleasing to My Eyes like what the f kcu im like this A LOT

b ru H this part........................ theyre all doing this 🤘 at her.................... waht does it mean................... what doES IT MEAN

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH BICTH MXCUSE ME WHAT THE FKUC DOES THIS MEAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ooooooooooooooooooh mmmmmmmyyyyyyYYYYYYYYYY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

also some bonus gahyeon screenshots its what she deserves after spinning my head 360 degrees <3 (also i didnt notice that both did the sign love this for her)

T H E M

WELL WELL WELL STILL AS BEAUTIFUL AS EVER I SEE- HERE TO TELL ME THAT YOU ALL STILL HOLD THE TITLE OF BEING THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMEN IN THE WORLD LITERALLY WHAT CAN I SAY????????????? I ALREADY BE YELLING HERE THAT THEYRE FRICKIN BEAUTIFUL AND STUNNING AS ALL HELL BUT IMMA KEEP SAYING IT AND YOURE NOT GONNA STOP ME

THE BLACK DANCE OUTFITS........................ THE WHITE DANCE OUTFITS........................... G OD

NO COMPLAINTS LETS MOVE ON:

JIU

her purple hair already hurted me and shes beautiful enough but in this video when she iS LITERALLY THE VERY FIRST MEMBER YOU SEE WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT WHEN YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL- pls i love lace................... her white outfit got chains on it................... and OH BICTH THE BLACK OUTFIT SHOWS HER BACK IM FERAL

SUA

MISS I SWEAR TO GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I MUST ADDRESS THE OUTFIT WITH THE SWORD FIRST OKAY MA’AM LOOKING LIKE A WHOLE GODDESS WARRIOR READY TO SLICE BICTHES UP FOR TALKING S HIT LIKE ON SOME ‘YES IM FROM THEMYSCIRA’ VIBES AND DONT GET ME STARTED ON HER BLACK OUTFIT WITH HER BABS (BORA ABS) OUT

SIYEON

can you pls stop being beautiful for one (1) second can yoU PLS- i saw this shot in the mv and i think i fell in l*ve with her......................... as if i wasnt already shes as stunning as ever i cant stand her the black outfit with her long ass high pony tail witH THE GLOVES HELLO and that one look with the flowers or something on her head covering her eye.......... wow..........................

YOOHYEON

GIRL I GET IT YOURE SO PRETTY I UNDERSTAND!!!!!!!!!!!! this look in this specific photo with this dress and the braid uuuuuuuuuuuhhhhh Ma’am youre a goddess I Am Looking 👁👄👁 her white outfit with the pony tail and those straps around her torso oh god and then her black outfit seems simple until you realize it shows a little of her sides pls stop im a weak man i-

DAMI

HELLO MISS LEE YUBIN I SEE YOU DECIDED TO GO ‘F UCK YALL LIVES’ AND BE HOT™ HUH- tbh not even mad at her yullet (yubin mullet) but shes dami she can work MANY LOOKS™ her black and white scene during her rap like thats a Look™ that attacked me and like yoohyeons black outfit hers looks like nothing special until you realize her sides are also out........... oh no-

GAHYEON

GAHYEON THE WOMAN THAT YOU ARE!!!!!!!!!!! this is HER ERA NO I WILL NOT LISTEN YOU CANNOT CHANGE MY MIND- i wasnt expecting her to attack me as much as she did its that GODDAMN pink outfit from the l ver. of the teasers i sHOULDVE KNOWN!!!!!!! her black outfit is like suas does she have gabs (gahyeon abs) OH NO LORD PLS- SHES BIG BEAUTIFUL™!!!!!!!!!!!!

BONUS TIME: B-SIDE TRACKS (short thoughts and parts i liked) had to go and use the color coded lyrics to make sure to not mistake the members and appreciate them fake ass fan i have a hard time telling who is who sometimes pls dont roast me ill do better next time

Intro

OKAY LISTEN- this intro be hitting a little different compared to their last intros maybe its just me but i feel as tho it COULD go just a little harder yknow???? tho ofc im love it still but ANYWAY-

Tension

now this........................ this is beautiful so this was apparently was supposed to be called goodnight????? and changed the lyrics?????? so............... they were hiding this Bop™................ for a few years????? did i read that right?????? LITERALLY A SLAP™ IT IS HEADBANG MATERIAL the fkcuing drums oh pls- THE CHORUS SOMEONE TALK TO ME ITS ADDICTING i............... LOVE jius voice on this song in particular that slower part i dunno why she just got me i- those parts sua and siyeon do before that ‘break the wall’ part i dunno their kinda lower voices theyre making me feel Things™

Red Sun

SOUNDCLOUD RAPPER DAMI RISE-

okay seriously WHAT THE FKCU- IT GRABBED MY NECK DURING THE HIGHLIGHT MEDLEY something about those bells or whatever throughout this song just hurted me so much ‘red sun’ just....................... gets in your brain and im okay with that!!!!!!!!!!! like its true that the beginning part is so intriguing and lowkey hypnotizing WOW and then their voices sound kinda breathy be hitting a little different MISS LEE GAHYEON ON THIS.................. MA’AM-

Black Or White

the guitar the fkycing guitaR CAN WE PLS TALK ABOUT THE GUITAR AND THE BASS FOR A SECOND???????? HELLO??????? THE CRUNCHINESS™ and then dami in the middle (not @ me for thinking she cursed in this song 🤡) S HU T- AND HELLO JIU SIYEON AND DAMI ALL TOOK PART IN WRITING THESE LYRICS BICTH IM YELLING- THAT BLACK OR WHITE IN THE CHORUS SIYEON SINGS IS STUCK IN MY HEAD HELP ME jk im okay with it being there yoohyeon jiu and gahyeon during those pre-chorus parts......................... good christ............

Jazz Bar

pls stop flirting with me.................................. DAMI ESPECIALLY LISTEN- I HAD TO LOOK UP THE LYRICS WITH THE COLOR CODE TO MAKE SURE MY EARS WERENT MESSING WITH ME LEE YUBIN I WILL FALL IN L*VE WITH YOU S T O P THE F CKUING BRIDGE- dami sitting on a piano during that part................ Thinking™ jiu sua and yoohyeon oh pls they sound so good and pleasant to the ears................. it feels like im in a jazzy cafe during the evening and its raining outside im drinking a latte with a cream heart design inside and im wearing a scarf- ALSO JIU SIYEON YOOHYEON AND DAMI TOOK PART IN WRITING THIS TOO BICTH!!!!!!!!!! dami saying this was one of her favorites Y E A H

SAHARA

HERE WE HAVE THE SONG WE MEMED BEFORE WE GOT IT but like that ‘SA HA RA~ RA RA RA~’ part is SUPER CATCHY siyeon and gahyeon and sua holy damn i- siyeon during the second verse AND HER HIGH NOTE ma’am im love you- also SOUNDCLOUD RAPPER DAMI RISE 2.0 i dunno what it is with dami with her raps being like this but im not even mad????????? i feel like thats an unpopular opinion something about that instrumental that guitar is hitting a part of my heart that i wanna hear it and then those drums it sounds SO COOL

In the Frozen

HERES ANOTHER FKCUING BANGER THAT GRABBED MY NECK AND WOULDNT LET. GO. like i literally fell off my GODDAMN BED HEARING THIS S HIT GOT MY HEART PUMPING AND S HIT its that flower line whatever it is that siyeon yoohyeon and sua do GOOD LORD and then dami???????? miss?????????? THE ENDING PORTION OH LISTEN- WHATEVER IS GOING ON WITH THE INSTRUMENTAL HOLY SH IT AND DAMI SAYING ‘LIMIT NO MORE’ AND ALL IT REALLY DIDNT HAVE TO GO THAT HARD F U C K-

새벽 (Daybreak)

now this is a song that could heal souls- its not super slow like a ballad but it has like a lowkey jazz lo-fi (???) feel to it and their vocals are super gentle and smooth are these angels- i dunno what it is about all these songs and the second verses like this one is good too??????? especially yoohyeon U H i felt that in mY BONES i can definitely see this song as one i would go to when i wanna relax to or even fall asleep to bc its so soothing

Outro

THIS HITS REALLY DIFFERENT AND I LIKE IT I DUNNO WHAT IT IS IT JUST FEELS NICE IN MY EARS

LIKE i was expecting this album to be SUPER INCREDIBLE COME ON ITS DREAMCATCHER YKNOW but i didnt think itd be THIS incredible this group is just so full of surprises and are just the MOST HIDDEN GEMS its unfortunate they really arent very known trying to be a little critical ofc there are SOME things that could be different theres nothing absolutely and truly perfect ever- personally i am IN LOVE with this album theyve topped themselves from their last comeback which like HOLY S HIT however will this be the comeback that will get them their first win? ..................... to be honest its hard to tell i was so hopeful last comeback and yknow stuff happened OFC I DO HOPE AND WISH THEYLL WIN but whats most important (at least to me) is that i enjoy their music and enjoy all the content they give and appreciate their work and their voices

IN CONCLUSION: PLEASE YALL ALWAYS MAKE ME SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and like before i must bring this back:

#im sorry i cant be more objective 😔😔😔#decided against writing a favorite lyrics portion #im actually very busy this week BUT THIS IS LONG ENOUGH YKNOW #if there are mistakes oh well #hopefully this was entertaining!!!#dreamcatcher #han.txt #han's mv afterthoughts

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pigeontheoneandonly · 5 years ago

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The Price of an Afternoon

Part 3 of my Dragon Age / Mass Effect crossover. I also threw this up on AO3 if that’s more convenient. (Part 4 here.)

Several days later, when Nathaly’s turn to go into town came up, Kaidan met her at the bottom of the hill and declared his intention to tag along.

“No.” Her answer immediate, and expected. “It’s not a good idea. You could have fled in any direction, but sooner or later, templars are going to search north, and this is the first significant settlement they’ll reach.”

“I understand,” he said, with fraying patience. “I didn’t let you boost me from the Circle Tower just to wind up staring at cave walls instead.”

“It’s just for a few weeks. Until we figure out if it’s safe to move.”

“I’m not going to walk into the town square and summon a firestorm. I just want to…” He struggled with the words. “I haven’t seen people in a decade. Not living real lives, instead of something premeditated and scheduled and assigned before they were born. I haven’t smelled an apple that wasn’t cooked since I left my parents’ land for the last time.”

She shook her head, stubborn as he remembered. “Kaidan…”

“I’ll keep my hood up.” The weather was turning chill, and it would raise no suspicion. “I won’t even say a word. I just want to soak up the crowd. Maybe eat a pie, or something.”

Everything on her face said this was a horrible idea, and she was probably right, but her eyes had softened. Even in this short-lived reunion, he’d already learned they told the real story. He really liked that about her.

“Fine,” she said, at last. “But you’re going to take Ash’s cloak. It’s far less noticeable than that blue thing of yours.”

She said this dressed herself in a forest green shirt and burnt orange breeches. Even her armor was covered in tooled designs, and he caught her working on more embellishment at odd hours, waiting for the next thing to happen. That was a revelation. He never expected her to care much for ornamentation.

“Don’t worry. Nobody’s going to notice me next to all that.” He gestured at her, grinning.

She scoffed, but also seemed rather pleased that he’d noticed. “Get the damn cloak.”

It was about an hour’s walk into Crestwood proper. A large village or a small town, depending on particular preference, it bustled in early autumn, the harvest just starting to come in. Alongside the grain and vegetables in the market were fresh catches from the lake, scales shining silver and green and rainbow-hued, eels, mussels, and even a species of crab. He’d only seen them in drawings. Their home village of Kinallen was strictly land-locked.

Fish was naturally a staple of Kinloch Hold, surrounded as it was by a lake. But he rarely saw it whole like this, still wet, freshly gutted. Never knew it could smell oddly fresh, clean like the crisp water that bore it.

Nathaly caught him gawking and laughed, but not at him. More like she was enjoying his enjoyment. “Wow, you were going stir-crazy.”

“Only for thirteen years.” And it was amazing how fast that became a joke. He’d held himself so tightly for so long that any margin to relax had him spilling all over the place.

She grinned back. For a moment, he thought she might grab his hand again, like she had on the boat, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted it. But she walked on. And then he wasn’t sure he wasn’t disappointed. Kaidan had worked with lightening as part of the standard curriculum. Standing in her presence felt like summoning a shock, the mild buzz tingling over his skin as he held it ready in his hand. Exhilarating, but also dangerous.

One thing was sure. He still liked her every bit as much as when they were younger. She still made him laugh and put him at ease with almost effortless aplomb. And Nathaly hadn’t changed a bit, either. More confident, maybe, more sure of herself, and definitely ready and able to use that sword. But still careless and wild. Like nothing could stop her doing as she willed. Her father used to call her “our little whirlwind”, because like the dust devils that occasionally raced across their plains, Nathaly rarely gave consideration to anything in her path, tumbling forward for the sheer joy of it.

And sure enough, they’d barely arrived before she was distracted by a different booth, one displaying bolts of cloth and buttons and embroidery floss. He couldn’t imagine her with a needle in hand, but she bought several skeins. As she tucked them into her pack, she caught his skeptical stare, and snorted. “I taught myself leatherworking. How much harder could this be?”

He rose to the bait. “What kind of pattern are you thinking?”

“Maybe a little border going around a cuff. A band of words.” Delighted by her own idea. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, in a big circle.”

He laughed, hard enough that the hood started to slide back. She caught its edge just in time. “Careful, there.”

“Yeah.” It cast pall over the afternoon, reminding him that he wasn’t truly free, not yet. Not until the templars had given up hope of finding him and he could walk in the open air without tempting fate. But this was better than nothing.

She seemed just as eager to not ruin the day. “Help me figure out what we want to eat. This needs to last at least four or five days. Garrus wants to scout west, see if there’s something more permanent for us to move into.”

“Sounds good.” They wandered back towards the food stalls.

In the midst of picking through a fruit stand, trying to resist the raspberries in favor of something that wouldn’t spoil almost overnight nor get crushed in a knapsack, he felt Nathaly go stiff beside him. He glanced up. And then immediately back down to the fruit, trying subtly to pull the hood lower over his face. A gaggle of Chantry mothers had arrived at the far end of the market.

She bent towards him, urgently. “We need to finish up and leave.”

“Agreed,” he whispered back.

Then, as he started to move away, snagged his cloak. “Slowly. Don’t attract attention.”

A thousand years passed as he waited for her to finish selecting fruit. Another century or three as she paid the man running the stall. The Chantry mothers roving ever closer, their gossip growing louder. Kaidan tried not to stare. But it was next to impossible when it felt like the thread of his life was hanging taut, just waiting for one of them to trip and snap it.

Nathaly piled the remainder of their purchases into his knapsack. “Walk,” she whispered, as she put her arm around him and steered them towards the western road out of Crestwood. Then, when he involuntarily tried to look over his shoulder, “Eyes front. We’re almost in the clear.”

They walked through the stone arch and out of line-of-sight. Kaidan drew a huge breath. Nathaly dropped her arm and rubbed her eyes. “Well, that was something.”

“Yeah, I—” His eyes went wide. His throat closed up.

“This was the worst idea,” Nathaly went on, oblivious. “We’re never doing this again.”

He tried to wet his mouth. His voice a weak croak. “Nathaly—”

“And don’t you even start with the ‘I was trapped in a tower for thirteen years’ crap while I’m trying to keep you alive for the next thirteen—”

“Nathaly.” He spun her bodily.

Three templars had paused on the road east of them. Staring the pair of them down, heads cocked to the side, still confused, focused on him. Kaidan estimated that would last another moment or two and then they were both dead.

“Shit,” said Nathaly, eloquent as always. “Maybe they haven’t noticed.”

The templar in the lead put his hand to his hilt and started forward.

Kaidan took a step back. Wondering why in the hell he let her talk him into leaving his staff in the cave, giveaway or not. “I think that ship’s sailed.”

“Double shit.” And then she actually walked towards them. The blood drained from his face.

She stopped a few paces from the templar group, forcing them to stop also. “Can I help you?”

One of the templars in the back sniggered. The leader shot him a tempering glare. “Are you aware that you are traveling in the company of an apostate?”

Nathaly rested her hands on her hips. Not retreating an inch. Kaidan’s guts tried to turn themselves inside out. “Dunno. Are you aware that you’re about to make a terrible decision?”

Outright laughter, unchecked by the templar in charge, who couldn’t suppress a smile himself. “My dear woman, this… mage is our charge to return to the Circle from which he has fled, as Andraste bid us. If you insist on standing in our way, we will be forced to remove you.”

“You can damn well try.” She drew her sword, steel ringing in the autumn afternoon. Her eyes shifting to each of them in turn. “But if you do, I’ll kill you all. There won’t be a final moment’s mercy, letting one of you run off and regroup. One mage means nothing to you. You’ve got hundreds. Is this mage worth your three beating hearts?”

#mass effect #dragon age #crossover #nathaly shepard #kaidan alenko #shenko #fanfiction #pigeon writes

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sybilius · 5 years ago

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@chanelpirate replied to your post “shiny-good-rock replied to your photo “@shiny-good-rock I don’t think...”

God tell me about it that stats page. has to remind me not to get out the old stats textbook and overanalyse

I will admit to succumbing to the devil’s urge to compute my kudos/hits ratio when I posted this page lmfaaaooo

Why user subscribe if I may ask?

This got long and is personal rather than what I think anyone should use to assess their own work. Under a cut it goes!

Hums, I think I think of it as, among a flawed set of metrics for “how is my writing going towards something eminently readable and compelling” as the best of a dodgy lot.

I mean, in terms of why I write, it’s to please myself first and foremost, then to please the Smol group of people who Love the Fandom, and then past that -- well, I am interested in writing some kind of room of my own someday (and am currently working on it). So how good is my writing, independent of fandom?

Kudos I think most reflect passing interest -- what do many people know about, right now? A well-thought out comment still means the most to me out of anything, but you can’t quantify the meaning of a comment in a number. So even “number of comment threads” doesn’t mean much to me. I can have a comment that’s about as “hey, nice!” to me as a kudo-- not that I don’t appreciate both, I do! But that’s as an acknowledgement of a particular piece of writing, which I assume if you’re looking at stats page, you’re trying to get a sense of how the greater whole feels about all of your writing.

And here I’m supposing if I’m looking at the stats page, I want to get some feel for how my writing is doing overall. Kudos/hits ratio IS a common metric for that, but as I said in an earlier post, disproportionately favors posting many shorter works. And for that matter, I feel like many shorter works are what people go looking for on Ao3 in any case; so I might be getting inflated numbers in that department simply by virtue of my predeliction for writing 6 chapter fics under 50 k.

Bookmarks I am in fact fond of, but I recognize that some people use bookmarks as a REC FOREVER list (as I do--- if I have bookmarked a fic of yours, I like it VERY very much) -- and some just use it to..save fic. So I’m fond of bookmark tags, but it’s similar to comments in that the number alone doesn’t reflect much for me.

Individual work subscriptions are influenced by whether a fic is completed or not, so that one doesn’t hold much sway for me.

But I dunno, I find “User Subscription” so flattering, mostly because I write for several different obscure fandoms, so I always feel like a user ‘scrip says “hey, I like your writing, I’ll take a look at what you do regardless of fandom”. Of course, because I write for obscure fandoms, it might also say “you’re the only goddamn person writing this, I’ll wait around for you to do something new” but to be honest, I’m happy with that too in a way. I have a lot of love for the fandoms I write for; so I’m happy whether the reason someone has clicked “user subscribe” is “writing great” or “she writes for That Fandom Almost No One Does”.

Anyways, this is all to say, stats numbers are fake and you should make whatever narrative of them helps you write better! or none at all! thank u for coming to my ted talk

#chanelpirate #chatter #ao3 #statistics

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calsmusecollection · 5 years ago

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RULES.

repost , don’t reblog ! tag 10 ! good luck !

TAGGED. Found it on an old blog TAGGING. Whomever wants to

For The Outsider

This has been in my drafts for SO long, and I just am tired of it being there. So I just filled out any easy questions I’d skipped and crossed out the others. I’m sorry it’s not done but it’s been avoided for like a year so... yeah...

BASICS.

FULL NAME :

The Outsider, Sanct

NICKNAME :

Black Eyed Bastard, Black Eyed Devil, Black Eyed Groom, Whale Satan

AGE :

17/4000+

BIRTHDAY :

The calendar was different than. Roughly speaking it’s the 20th day in the Month of Rain that he was born human and the Fugue Feast when he merged with The Void

ETHNIC GROUP : ///// NATIONALITY : Pandyssian LANGUAGE / S : Yes. All. As a human he only knew one and it has long since died out SEXUAL ORIENTATION : human: Homosexual, Void: Demisexual (generally only his Marked) ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : human: Homoromantic, Void: Demiromantic (Generally only his Marked) RELATIONSHIP STATUS : Single CLASS : human; destitute, Void; beyond such human designations HOME TOWN / AREA : The town’s name was lost to time. It was on the Southern part of Pandyssia CURRENT HOME : Void- seems to be taking a particular interest in Dunwall/Gristol PROFESSION : Boredom.

PHYSICAL.

HAIR :

human; yellow-going toward white, Void; Black, Post-void Human: Black

EYES :

human; clear blue, Void; Black including where the whites should be. Some people imagine specks of light, or fire in them. He’d deny anything that wasn’t pure black, Post-void Human: Light blue green

SCARS

pre-void-human; too many to count, Void; none, post-void-human verses; a scar that goes across his neck as though to sever both arteries, scars on either wrist indicative of being bound

TATTOOS :

Nope

HEIGHT :

5′6″ (short Void is short)

((I looked up the average height of people in 2000 BCE which would be roughly 4000 years ago if I can do math, and in fact the number I came up with was 5′3″ for men but the sample size is small. The average for the Roman army was 5′7″.))

WEIGHT :

120lbs??

(I dunno I’m really bad at weight...)

BUILD :

Slender

FEATURES :

Nothing special

ALLERGIES :

None really

USUAL HAIR STYLE :

Messy. Not in a deliberate way. More of a ‘what’s a brush?’ sort of way...

USUAL FACE LOOK :

A neutral expression that airs on the side of criticism or confusion.

USUAL CLOTHING :

Dark pants and dark boots and a dark jacket over a white shirt. He wears rings on some fingers. Silver. Which he is loath to contemplate parting with.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S :

He’d tell you he’s beyond such emotion. But he is rather scared of no longer existing. Death maybe. But more than that.

ASPIRATION / S :

None

POSITIVE TRAITS :

NEGATIVE TRAITS :

MBTI :

ZODIAC :

TEMPERAMENT :

SOUL TYPE / S :

ANIMALS :

Whales. Rats

VICE HABIT / S :

Stalking the Marked, Being needlessly ominous, sweet food

FAITH :

He once worshiped the Leviathan. He’s learned to worship nothing

GHOSTS ? :

Eh. Trapped spirits maybe

AFTERLIFE ? :

Nope. Just Void

REINCARNATION ? :

Nope. Just Void

ALIENS ? :

Why not? Though he’s not seen any

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT :

Humans are so... stupid. To think such things last

ECONOMIC PREFERENCE :

He’s beyond such things

SOCIOPOLITICAL POSITION

Annoying god-like being

EDUCATION LEVEL :

Zero... or... all of eternity? It’s hard to pinpoint

FAMILY.

FATHER :

Unknown

MOTHER :

Unknown

SIBLINGS :

none

EXTENDED FAMILY :

Unknown

NAME MEANING / S : Outsider- a person who does not belong to a particular group.

Sanct- Ghost

FAVOURITES.

BOOK :

The Young Prince of Tyvia

MOVIE :

5 SONGS :

Drunken Whaler

DEITY :

Himself. He loves himself the most.

HOLIDAY :

Fugue Feast is always entertaining

MONTH :

Month of Rains probably

SEASON :

Summer

PLACE :

Seaside

WEATHER :

Stormy, just before the sky opens up and it starts to rain

SOUND :

Whales singing, Steal clashing,

SCENT / S :

The sea on a warm day, fruit tarts

TASTE / S :

fruit tarts, sweet drinks

FEEL / S :

Ocean waves crashing on the shore, the feel of a breeze, the warmth of touch

ANIMAL / S :

Leviathan and rats

NUMBER :

COLOUR :

Blues

EXTRA.

TALENTS :

BAD AT :

TURN ONS :

“You Fascinate me”

TURN OFFS :

Predictability

HOBBIES :

TROPES :

AESTHETIC TAGS :

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 : if you could write your character your way in their own movie , what would it be called , what style would it be filmed in , and what would it be about ?

A1 :

The Outsider doesn’t deserve a movie. But if he had one it would have some sort of one-word title that helped no one guess what it was about. Like.. “Time” or “Forever”. It would be some sort of ridiculous indie film that is trying so hard to intellectual that all concept of linear storytelling is lost. Symbolism takes the place of narrative. And you leave the theater feeling as if you’ve lost days instead of a mere hour. It’s supposed to be about what it’s like to be him in the Void. And maybe it is. No one can be certain.

Q2 : What would their soundtrack / score sound like ?

A2 :

Ethereal for want of a better term. With that sort of undercurrent of creepy as shit. The sort of music that either has no lyrics or the lyrics contain no chorus. It’s just this story that’s being sang in airy tones over deep music.

Q3 : why did you start writing this character ?

A3 :

He wouldn’t leave me alone. I tried to get my bff in rl to finish the game and save me from The Outsider but they never did and I had no choice but to find someone else to satisfy him.

Q4 : what first attracted you to this character ?

A4:

He’s.... neat? I dunno. I played the first game and I think I only got through some levels because I kept telling myself that there would be another shrine if I could just get to it. How I get my muses is dumb. They show up in my head and declare themselves deserving of my time >.<

Q5 : describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.

A5 :

How disconnected he is. Like he can seriously upset someone and not even register that he did. And that’s the antithesis of me and it hurts me every time.

Q6 : what do you have in common with your muse ?

A6 :

We think people are interesting? That’s... about it...

Q7 : how does your muse feel about you ?

A7 :

He tells me I play him wrong. No matter how I play him. It’s always wrong. And he hates his backstory. And he wants me to be more cryptic. And. And. And. -_-’ He’s a judgmental little brat.

Q8 : what characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ?

A8 :

Everyone? I think I really love him dealing with people who don’t have marks a lot.

Q9 : what gives you inspiration to write your muse ?

A9 :

I rewatch the clips of going to the shrines for one thing. And I have a few songs that remind me of him. And I I just... I guess you’d call it meditate? I zone out for a few moments and try to clear my mind of anything that isn’t void.

Q10 : how long did this take you to complete ?

A10 :

.... shhhhhh... some questions need no answers....

#long post #Headcannon: Outsider

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what-even-is-thiss · 7 years ago

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Creative Essay on: the voice of Thomas Sanders.

This creative non fiction essay was inspired by this post by @ironwoman359 and the ask was by @peachie-keeen so maybe I’ll tag them too. Nervously. I dunno if this will do as good of a job describing anything as that post did, but I’ll sure try.

I’ve had a lot of thoughts about the voice of @thatsthat24 for over a year and a half now. So, here are some of them. And I guess I’m getting some creative non fiction practice in at the same time so that’s cool. Essay under the cut.

I should probably point out before we start that I haven’t been trained with the vocabulary to describe voices. This is just a creative interpretation with the limited knowledge that I have. It’s not too terribly long so I’m not gonna put word count.

A voice. A noise. Has kind of a... yellow quality to it? Maybe like honey. Not the taste of honey. Like the color. A dark rich yellow. But it can change color so rapidly, right?

His voice in particular I mean. That guy from Vine and YouTube. The Floridian one. Wait. There are more than... Thomas Sanders. Thomas Sanders is what I’m talking about. Him specifically,

Well probably not everybody associates feelings with colors. I do. And the feeling, the general vibe I get from listening to his voice is the color of honey. So how Do I explain this some other way?

It’s bright, to use a different visual metaphor, but it can go dark in a second. It moves from high to low naturally even faster, but the singing bit is almost always low. Except for the falsetto. That is a rare thing to hear but when you do hear it then it reminds you of a boy’s choir with how high it is, but it’s lost that purity that disappears with puberty. But it does sound like it would be more at home in a church choir than a disco number if that makes sense. But that’s just the falsetto. And I’ve only heard that once.

What about the normal singing voice? Well that’s got a variety too. It’s low though. It’s low. Not extremely low. It’s a... baritone? Baritone. That’s the word. But sometimes it’s just a little higher? It seems to be made to be just slightly old fashioned but in the newest way. Like it’s perfectly made to sing Nat King Cole and Frank Sinatra and keep up with the best of the crooners and yet also be a golden era Disney Prince but at the same time not. There’s something unmistakably modern about it. Maybe it was made for the theater. Not really for pop. It’s not very poppy. Not quite pop-ish. But it’s definitely with the times. Right at home here in this early 21st century situation we’re in right now. But elegant. Like a voice that makes even the most ridiculous things seem classy. Never pretentious. Always approachable. Usually smooth. Not a whole lot of vocal pyrotechnics to be found, but impressive just the same.

Oh, and he riffs a lot. Like, a lot a lot.

Now the speaking voice is more complicated. That can go all over the place. Can change color in an instant. Jumping from its normal honey yellow to black to green to bright yellow to bright blue and back again. Now how to explain that in normal terms...

Let’s start with the laugh. The thing that seems to come too easily for him and punctuates every few sentences. The normal one is bright and goofy. Not like the character Goofy. It’s unique to Mr. Thomas Sanders. It’s silly and genuinely full of joy. You can hear the “HA HA HA HA” as he laughs. It’s quick, but you can hear it. But other times it’s a giggle. Like he’s giddy about everything all the time. Like he’s restraining himself from bouncing up and down and covering his smile with his hands. And then his laugh is evil. Jumping down in tone, coming from the base of his throat, carrying the sound of an evil smile with it. And it is delightful and delicious and is nothing like the joyful belly laugh you’re used to, but somehow you’re not surprised that it came from Thomas.

The normal speaking voice? It’s... higher than the singing voice but not by much. It’s expressive even when it’s quiet. Like it was made for the stage. It’s a voice that’s always playing for the back row whether it wants to be or not. It’s bright enough that you feel if you look at it long enough you might get burned, but you never do. Instead of hurting you find it stays warm and approachable. Almost like a cartoon, but too real for that. Except when it’s not. It’s a voice that would be good with kids but could get genuine enough for adults. It sounds sincere and then it’s ridiculous. It’s happy but then it’s confused. Like it’s surprised to be there, but happy to be there just the same.

But then Thomas’ speaking voice morphs like the shapeshifter that it is. It goes higher with a horribly fake but endearing British accent. It’s much more juvenile when it’s like that. Innocent and strange. Then he goes from being like a cartoon character to actually being a cartoon character. He tightens his throat and speaks from the top back of his mouth to become the Family Guy character Stewie Griffin and from his tone you would believe he’s that evil British sounding baby, set on killing people and hating sprinkles. Then he’s Stitch, squeaky and hard to understand. A blue alien landed in Hawaii. And you believe it, even as it’s his human face there.

Then there’s his own characters. Some of which fall into the more villainous tone. A deeper tone. Sometimes he’s a bad boy, like when he played Jason Dean and sung about freezing his brain. There he’s comfortable and planning something. So sure that he’s right and dangerous and smooth. Or maybe he’s that anxiety character. The literal embodiment of fear. Then there’s always something on guard about him and you can just hear his voice straining to go that low. He’s sarcastic and mean but protective and careful. There’s a primal sneer hiding deep in the background behind that makeup coated facade even as the voice goes gentle. Then he’s the embodiment of deception with all the smooth talking charms of a Victorian devil. Moving smoothly and capturing that movement in his voice. So deliciously evil you can’t help but love to hate him. Or maybe the deep tone isn’t villainous or threatening at all. Maybe it’s loud and serious. A trailer voice. In a world where he would announce what is coming next.

Go a little higher and what do we find? A monotone with expression. Just the right amount of interesting for being a teacher, which is exactly what he becomes. An educator with all the verbal movement necessary to keep someone engaged for a lecture. Not so loud you tune him out, but not so monotone you lose interest. All the brightness and darkness gone, it’s just interesting. A voice that is simply interesting. Nothing more and nothing less, which is what it aims to be. Without brightness, even as it rises in frustration.

A little higher and louder and what do we find? He’s filled his chest with sound and projected it out to the world. Each word has an extra curve and embellishment, like he stepped straight out of a fairy tale and someone splashed his words with dust made of diamonds. Yes, he is a prince. Directly out of your daydreams. The words themselves sweep you off your feet and take you on a royal adventure. More cartoonish than ever. More regal than ever. Taste the pretentiousness he’s spewing into the air. It’s surprisingly beautiful as it swirls about in a flurry of white and pink and gold and you laugh at just how well he does it and hear his singing voice gain a layer of magic reserved only for royalty.

Go higher than his normal range and the brightness is back with a vengeance. It’s like how I imagine the sky on a clear day would sound. Thomas’ voice becomes so overcome with joy you imagine it will take on a life of it’s own and go bouncing away. He is supportive, but tied to the earth with a thread that could snap any minute. He sounds like he’s constantly holding back a squeal of delight as he talks from the top of his mouth. He still gives off an authority though even as the voice bounces off of the word ‘kiddo’ like a trampoline. He turns on the dad voice and sounds serious but loving even as the voice holds a juvenile quality to it. It’s the verbal equivalent of watching a set of colorful balloons tied to a playground be buffeted by a sudden wind.

I’m certain too, that there are a million other places Thomas Sanders’ voice could take us that it hasn’t yet. How do you describe it? It’s a shapeshifter and a traveler, moving from the depths of his chest up through the mouth all the way to the tip of his nose. It’s an instrument the man has mastered and it shows.

#thatsthat24 #thomas sanders #tsart #sanders sides #roman wrote a thing #essay #creative non fiction

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threeunrelateddescriptors · 6 years ago

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I was tagged by @mayalaen and since I don’t understand bumblr I had no idea until this moment. Nickname: Tuddy or Tree

Bonus: I don’t get it?

Zodiac: Virgo

Height: 5′ 2“ (~1.6m)

Last movie I saw: Bird Box

Last thing I googled: Uhhh, I don’t remember.

Favourite Musician: I have no particular favorite. I have been enjoying Seether and Shinedown and Birthday Massacre a bunch at the moment.

Song stuck in my head: I don’t have one at the moment. Which is a fucking miracle.

Other blogs: none

Do i get asks: Nope

Following:67

Amount of sleep: 9? I think 9. Maybe 6. Somewhere between 6 & 9

Lucky number: Nope

What i’m wearing: Hand-me-down billabong shirt, hand-me-down fleece red sleep pants with black yorkies on them, gift-socks that have a horse and girl on them with the words “I hate everyone too” on them, a hand-me-down fleece vest. I do not like clothes shopping. Oh, and not-hand-me-down undies.

Dream job: Uhhh, I dunno. I don’t really have one. I like doing different jobs to get enough money to support my hobbies. I don’t really have a need to like or love my job.

Dream trip: I want to go all the places but I hate traveling. So I suppose my dream trip would be teleporting to a location I want to be.

Favourite food: I love too many foods. I love pomegranates. I’m on a huge hot cocoa binge right now. Hmm, sushi is good. Ice cream. Cake.

Play any instruments: Not really. I can slowly sound out simple pieces on piano. But no, no training and no particular affinity. Is sad.

Languages: English, bad English, slurred English, most forms of English, Japanese, French, some Latin. I know the last three but have no proficiency in them, Like, I can read them and I can mostly write in them, but speaking I clam up.

Favourite songs: I rotate through hyperfixations. Let’s see, what am I all about at the moment. I Will Always Love You as covered by Chase Holfelder. Roses, & Country Song by Seether. Cut The Cord, & DEVIL by Shinedown. Disappoint (Funker Vogt remix) by Assemblage 23. Roots by In This Moment.

Random Fact: Most of my joints are slightly unstable so I can dislocate my shoulders really easily. It’s a great party trick.

Describe yourself as aesthetic things: Unkept? Not really sure how to describe myself in these terms. Uhhh, bundled up. I give up.

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each-uisge-and-glashtyn · 6 years ago

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Tagged by the amazing @habenaria-radiata! I dunno why it wouldn’t let you properly tag me, but I still got this, thanks! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

I’m gonna tag @lunalove25 and @electric-vanoogaloo specifically, and in general anyone else who wants to do it!

List 10 of your favorite ships, in no particular order. Don’t cheat by scrolling down to see the questions yet, either!

Hibiki Kuze/Yamato Hotsuin

Akira Kurusu/Goro Akechi

Laurent/Damen

Misaki Yata/Saruhiko Fushimi

Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy

Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Adrien Agreste

Tony Stark/Loki

Daisuke Niwa/Satoshi Hiwatari

Jack Frost/Pitch Black(or Kozmotis Pitchiner)

Makoto Sako/Fumi Kanno/Otome Yanagina

Questions below the cut.

All questions for copy+paste:

Do you remember the episode/scene/chapter that you first started shipping 6?

Have you ever read a fanfic about 2?

Has a picture of 4 ever been your screensaver/profile picture/tumblr screensaver?

If 7 were to suddenly break up today, what would your reaction be?

Why is 1 so important?

Is 9 a funny ship or a serious ship?

Out of all the ships listed, which ship has the most chemistry?

Out of all your ships listed, which ship has the strongest bond?

How many times have you read/played/watched 10′s fandom?

Which ship has lasted the longest?

How many times, if ever, has 6 broken up?

If the world was suddenly thrust into a zombie apocalypse, which ship would make it out alive, 2 or 8?

Did 7 ever have to hide their relationship for any reason?

Is 4 still together?

Is 10 canon?

If all 10 ships were put into a couple’s Hunger Games, which couple would win?

Has anyone ever tried to sabotage 5′s ship?

Which ship would you defend to the death and beyond?

Do you spend hours a day going through 3′s tumblr page?

If an evil witch descended from the sky and told you that you had to pick one of the ten ships to break up forever or else she’d break them all forever, which ship would you sink?

My answers:

1. Do you remember the episode/scene/chapter that you first started shipping 6?

I’m pretty sure that I started shipping Marinette and Adrien the first scene they were actually together in. And just shipped them harder in each scene after, including all the ridiculous superhero/civilian mixup-mashups lol

2. Have you ever read a fanfic about 2?

Uhhhhhh......would these be my fav ships if I didn’t read fic of them? Either way, I’ve trawled through the Akira/Goro tag so many times that I’m actually caught up with all the completed works for them on a daily basis.

3. Has a picture of 4 ever been your screensaver/profile picture/tumblr screensaver?

Not by themselves, but in a group photo, I guess? I had the whole K Project main cast as my computer background for a bit. I did look for a phone background of them a while ago, but I couldn’t find any I liked enough.

4. If 7 were to suddenly break up today, what would your reaction be?

If Tony and Loki broke up then I’d be mildly worried about the fallout on their mental and physical healths, but overall I wouldn’t be super surprised on average.

5. Why is 1 so important?

Honestly I just relate to both Hibiki and Yamato so much, and also I’m a sucker for the dynamic that they set up. Also I wanna break Yamato in the most delicious ways thank you so much radiata for letting me indulge in that through your fics

6. Is 9 a funny ship or a serious ship?

I mean, it’s literally a funny/serious ship. Jack brings the fun, but Pitch brings stability and seriousness when it’s needed.

7. Out of all the ships listed, which ship has the most chemistry?

Well, speaking literal canon, Laurent/Damen is the only actual canon ship so I guess by default they win, But damn if Hibiki/Yamato, Harry/Draco, and Akira/Goro can’t give them a run for their money in innuendo and implied chemistry.

8. Out of all your ships listed, which ship has the strongest bond?

They’re all based on growing through hardship and learning to trust each other and deep loyalty due to those so uh all of them? Like half of them were willing to die for their partners and the other half worked (or is working or will work or whatever) extremely hard to make it work so...

9. How many times have you read/played/watched 10′s fandom?

Oh god that’s Devil Survivor 2. I think by this time I’ve logged like 60 bazillion hours into DeSu2. I’ve replayed the game so many times I can recognize when people use actual lines from the game, or slight modifications of lines. I can get the true ending effortlessly. I’ve played both the original and remake, watched the anime, and read fic for it (and nearly started writing my own before realizing I had no plot beyond yay ships). In short: too many goddamn times.

10. Which ship has lasted the longest?

I don’t know if this is asking which has canonically lasted longest or which has lasted longest for me, so I’m gonna answer both. Laurent/Damen is the only currently canon pair, so they win canon lasted longest. Either Harry/Draco or Daisuke/Satoshi were my first real ship, so they’re my personal longest lasting.

11. How many times, if ever, has 6 broken up?

Well, Mari and Adrien haven’t gotten together yet, but I’d like to believe that they wouldn’t quit for anything. The only thing I can see them fracturing over is if they get together before the reveal so they’re hiding Lady and Chat from each other. As soon as that’s cleared up though, they’ll be strong again.

12. If the world was suddenly thrust into a zombie apocalypse, which ship would make it out alive, 2 or 8?

Ooooooohhhhhhhh that’s certainly a choice. I honestly don’t know. Akira and Goro certainly are skilled and resourceful, but I don’t know how they stack up against Sato and Dai. Satoshi is literally a genius and has skills to back it up, but his stamina ain’t shit. And Daisuke has the skills and smarts to survive, but he puts himself in danger way to often to bet on. Meanwhile Akira and Goro are always fighting smart and using the most out of all their resources, as well as both being super smart and highly skilled. And this is ignoring all the canon extra shit they come with, cause that just muddies the playing field more. I honestly don’t know.

13. Did 7 ever have to hide their relationship for any reason?

I feel like Tony and Loki would hide their relationship from the Avengers as long as possible just to avoid having to deal with the drama lol

14. Is 4 still together?

Again, the didn’t technically get together in canon, but damn if they ever let each other go again once they do get together (which is also p much inevitable imo

15. Is 10 canon?

It is if you assume Hibiki was just too focused on saving the world to notice and the others didn’t feel like blatantly informing him. I can’t see why Makoto or Otome would tell him, and Fumi just straight up wouldn’t care if he knew or not.

16. If all 10 ships were put into a couple’s Hunger Games, which couple would win?

Okay so on an equalizing field of no supernatural or superhuman powers of any kind, probably not Mari and Adrien. Look I love battle couples and I have no idea who would win. I’m gonna say Laurent and Damen literally only because they’re actual adults and not baby adults or near adults and they didn’t have any powers to begin with so that’s all them babe, no boosts needed.

17. Has anyone ever tried to sabotage 5′s ship?

If Harry and Draco ever actually got their heads out of their asses and realized being obsessed with each other really was quite gay, everyone and their dogs would probs be trying to get in their way.

18. Which ship would you defend to the death and beyond?

All of them on my own time with no one making me, but I refuse to do it on command in order to prove anything.

19. Do you spend hours a day going through 3′s tumblr page?

Oh my god look if Laurent or Damen had a tumblr I would absolutely spend years on it, but alas, the closest I can get is modern day fics that include social media

20. If an evil witch descended from the sky and told you that you had to pick one of the ten ships to break up forever or else she’d break them all forever, which ship would you sink?

I’m fairly sure that all of them would end with someone dying or otherwise messy circumstances such as world war or smth other than like, Mari and Adrien cause they’re sweethearts who couldn’t hurt a fly and they’re responsible and crap. And cause they would also make very good friends even if they couldn’t be together.

#wow that's long now #radiata your answers were so great #personal

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