#not many people cared about this series because the game is old but I’m so glad I found all this unreleased content!
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
lulu2992 · 8 days ago
Text
Deleted dialog from Far Cry 3’s main story – Masterpost
A comprehensive list of all the unreleased lines from the game’s main quest that are still transcribed in the oasisstrings file.
Part 1: Make a Break for It
Part 2: The Social Club
Part 3: Down in Amanaki Town
Part 4: Harvest the Jungle & Secure the Outpost
Part 5: Mushrooms in the Deep
Part 6: The Medusa's Call
Part 7: Playing the Spoiler & Prison Break-in
Part 8: Island Port Hotel
Part 9: Keeping Busy
Part 10: “Meet Citra”
Part 11: Bad Side of Town & Kick the Hornet's Nest
Part 12: A Man Named Hoyt
Part 13: Saving Oliver
Part 14: Piece of the Past & Down in the Docks
Part 15: The Motherlode
Part 16: Lin Cong I Presume
Part 17: Unhappy Reunion
Part 18: This Knife's for You & Ambush
Part 19: Warrior Rescue Service & New Rite of Passage
Part 20: Payback
Part 21: Citra's Favor
Part 22: Fly South & Three Blind Mice
Part 23: Doppelganger
Part 24: Triple Decker, Defusing the Situation & Deepthroat
Part 25: All in
Part 26: Paint It Black
Part 27: Black Gold & Aced in the Hole
Part 28: Betting Against the House
Part 29: The Doctor Is Out
Part 30: Hard Choices
Part 31: Bonus unreleased and early content
18 notes · View notes
grison-in-space · 1 year ago
Text
Listening to Artificial Condition again, it strikes me how much Murderbot uses empathy reflexively as a survival skill. Look at this bit.
Upon meeting it, ART allows it on board and then announces that it knows that Murderbot is rogue. Then ART threatens to destroy it if it hacks ART's own systems. Murderbot is immediately terrified and shuts down all inputs, gives serious thought to spending the entire three month journey unconscious, and then considers the potential avenues of damage from ART's drones. ART, not realizing why Murderbot had suddenly gone silent, tells it to quit sulking, which understandably pisses off the still-terrified Murderbot. It dumps a bunch of memories of coercive treatment into ART's feed, and ART goes silent.
Then this happens:
Then it said, I’m sorry I frightened you. Okay, well. If you think I trusted that apology, you don’t know Murderbot. Most likely it was playing a game with me. I said, “I don’t want anything from you. I just want to ride to your next destination.” I’d explained that earlier, before it opened the hatch for me, but it was worth repeating. I felt it withdraw back behind its wall. I waited, and let my circulatory system purge the fear-generated chemicals. More time crawled by, and I started to get bored. Sitting here like this was too much like waiting in a cubicle after I’d been activated, waiting for the new clients to take delivery, for the next boring contract. If it was going to destroy me, at least I could get some media in before that happened. I started the new show again, but I was still too upset to enjoy it, so I stopped it and started rewatching an old episode of Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon. After three episodes, I was calmer and reluctantly beginning to see the transport’s perspective. A SecUnit could cause it a lot of internal damage if it wasn’t careful, and rogue SecUnits were not exactly known for lying low and avoiding trouble. I hadn’t hurt the last transport I had taken a ride on, but it didn’t know that. I didn’t understand why it had let me aboard, if it really didn’t want to hurt me. I wouldn’t have trusted me, if I was a transport. Maybe it was like me, and it had taken an opportunity because it was there, not because it knew what it wanted.
The thing about Murderbot's survival is that it clearly involves quite a bit of negotiating with other constructs and bots. That's how it talks its way onto cargo hauler bots in the first place. It uses empathy--envisioning the emotional and cognitive context of the individuals it encounters--to work out what different kinds of people want, so that it can offer them fair trades. It also uses empathy to consider what humans might be looking for, so it can practice blending in and hide.
Murderbot would never have survived so long if it wasn't capable of assessing the individual desires of the people--human, bot, and construct--around it. It thinks about ART's probable fears and motivations so that it can consider whether ART is inherently an ongoing threat or a potential ally.
When your survival depends on evading detection, you get really good at assessing perceptual biases so that you can shape yourself to fit into them. People talk about murderbot being radically empathetic as a choice it makes, or as a feature of its personality that makes it a good person. But I think murderbot would be the the first person to tell you that this empathy is part of its threat assessment suite, a skill that was developed out of necessity in order to allow you to survive.
It is also a trait that makes murderbot a good person, of course: it chooses very carefully to try to survive by doing as little harm as possible and by offering things, like media, that buy it access to things it needs. But it started as a survival skill. It's part of hypervigilance.
I think one of the strengths of this series is that so many of the things we love about SecUnit are traits developed for survival in an inherently threatening world. The shape of its mind and heart have been changed by the trauma of its origin--but they don't make murderbot less good for being altered, even if that skill was developed in a traumatic context.
I like that.
1K notes · View notes
a-substantial-trash-pile · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Studio TV Solutions presents Half Life VR but the AI are Self-Aware (2020) [not a real movie]. A movie with a totally improv’d script starring a moltey crew who are sure to give you a rip-roarin’ good time!
anyway hi new au just dropped. i’m calling it HLVRAIM. it’s HLVRAI but it’s a blockbuster movie and the science team are played by actors. i have many thought on backstories n stuff that i will stick under a “read more” here otherwise this post will be hella long on people’s dashes. 👇👍 pls care about this i thought so hard and much
Half Life VR but the AI are Self-Aware was put out by Studio TV Solutions in 2020 and destroyed the box office with how fun it was and how well the cast played off one another. The cast was given a general outline for the script with the goal for it to be mostly improv.
Gordon Freeman: Mannie Flores (Dominican American, age 28, he/him) - Popular Youtuber/Twitch streamer (“Radi0Mann”). Got offered the role in HLVRAI thanks to the creative things he’s done in his Youtube/Twitch career. This is his first “official” acting gig. He was pretty starstruck at first, but then as he got to know everyone, he realized they’re all a bunch of dorks (affectionate). - Started off as a gaming channel, but then started branching off into various creative endeavors as he got more popular. He still plays games too though. - One of the things Mannie did in his internet career that hit the mainstream was when he wrote, directed, starred in, and filmed his own movie in just 2 weeks because he failed a bet with his audience. Except the movie was actually really good and funny and heartfelt (i want to say it was about “a man who got left behind on earth after everyone else was raptured because god literally forgot about him”, but i think the concept might’ve been done already). - Met Benji through HLVRAI. They hit it off and now they’re dating. They tried to keep it secret for a while but Mannie had a slip-up during a stream that sort of blew it out of the water.
Benrey: Benji Song (Japanese/Chinese, age 30, he/they) - Started off as a film sound designer in the industry, then through a series of silly willy little events—possibly even shenanigans—got roped into a role in a passion indie film that became wildly acclaimed and flung him into the spotlight. Been an actor ever since, but isn’t the most proactive in taking jobs much to their agent’s annoyance. People never know where he’ll pop up next. Sometimes Benji will sneak in sound designer work behind their agent’s back. - Honestly likes background work more because everyone’s got these expectations of them as an actor that they feel pressured to meet. But he’s also afraid of disappointing people. He’s working on it. - Met their partner Mannie through HLVRAI. Totally was a fan of his streams/videos beforehand though. When they mention that, Mannie gets flustered. - Does music as a hobby. Electronic stuff mostly—enjoys mashing together all sorts of sounds and trying to make them work. After HLVRAI, Mannie’s streams gets cool new music that’s made by somebody going by “johnwicklover1994.” wink
Harold Coomer: Hau’oli “Hau” Kaleo-Kirchhoff (Hawaiian/Samoan, age 66, he/him) - Old musician who’s supposed to be retired but once in a while will release a song or even do a concert (but nothing crazy). - Hau’oli is pronounced [hh-ow-oh-lee], but he also goes by “Hau” for the haoles’ sake. :) Kaleo is [kah-leh-oh]. also Hau’oli sounds a little bit like the name Holly so that’s a fun coincidence i didn’t realize until later. - Most of his music is chill island tunes but he has been known to dabble in rock and jazz. - Married to Mose (been together for 30 years and counting).
Bubby: Mose Kaleo-Kirchhoff (German, age 69 [nice], xe/him) - Veteran actor—been in the acting industry for a long time. One of his more well-known roles was in a popular sci-fi series. - Married to Hau’oli (they got married the moment it was legal). - i went with a name that started with “M” cuz when Gordon first asks Bubby for his name, xe’s like, “mmm Bubby.” and i headcanon it’s because Mose was about to say xir own name and had to swerve last minute and the thing his brain resorted to was Bubby lol.
Tommy Coolatta: Luis Tanglao (Filipino, age 37, he/they) - Child star who dropped out of the industry when he hit his teens and then came back years later as a comedian. He has material about how fucked up being a child star was. Will only take acting roles if it interests them. - They don’t care about how the public/media sees him. He’ll speak his mind and call out BS when he sees it. Interviewing them can be a war zone. - Hosts a popular podcast with some buds they discuss things like video games, their lives, news, etc. Just shooting the shit. - Sunkist is their actual dog and she modeled for the png photo that was used. Her name is actually Biko. She is a very good girl. <3
Darnold Pepper: Sage Haven (African American, age 40, he/her/they) - Famous cooking show host who gets offered roles in movies. Got popular by how unconventional her meals and cooking methods are and how funny he is. - Has had multiple food/cooking/baking shows over the years. Every competition-based one they’ve had focused more on good vibes, fun, and encouraging one another rather than drama. One show involved people competing to see who could make the best full course meal with the catch being they could only cook everything in a microwave. Many microwaves perished. - Changed their name to Sage Haven during their transition. They chose it because it reflects his passion and also is a play on the phrase “safe haven”, which is what she wants to be to others. - He has an adoptive daughter named Kit. She helped them think up bits and jokes. She also had to help explain what Half-Life was.
haven’t gotten to gman and forzen’s actors yet unfortunately. thinking gman’s actor could be a talk show host? because that would be funny. anyway thanks for humoring me on my shenanigans. bye
837 notes · View notes
sc0tters · 1 year ago
Text
Strike Out | Luke Hughes
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: a series of events that lead to Nico finding out about your boyfriend, the newest edition of the New Jersey Devils no less.
request: yes/no
warnings: sexual scenes, p in v, swearing.
word count: 1.46k
authors note: this is more plot than smut (less than 600 words are smut) and I really liked this one. The prompt Luke with Nico’s sister gave me many options yet this was one I’m happy I took.
Tumblr media
Luke knew he was playing a dangerous game.
Not only you the total it girl at NYU with men double taking you whenever walked past. But you were also his captains younger sister.
Nico and Jack had both given him warnings about you when Luke first joined the team at the end of last season. Yet the moment Luke locked eyes with you all of those warnings were out of the window.
You were the girl of his dream for lack of a better phrase. You had the banter, the personality, but most of all you got on with Jack. And of course you knew how to wrap Luke around your little finger.
So when it took you less than three weeks to get the boy into your bed Luke finally realised what Jack meant by you were trouble.
It wasn’t in the sense of you were twisted with the cops but rather that you were addictive. Someone so far out of anyone’s league that people weren’t sure if you were real.
That’s what you were, an enigma to everyone but Luke.
Or at least that’s what he liked to say as he stuck into your dorm because somehow it was safer in there than it would have been if you were in the apartment with Jack.
As much as Luke knew he shouldn’t stay in your dorm as it meant you two were awkwardly on top of each other due to the weird size that dorm bed were. He could never help it as he got to see you in his old band tees that you had stolen from his closet during one of the many trips you had taken to Jersey.
Nico and Jack at this point were either choosing to ignore what was clearly going on or they genuinely couldn’t see it.
But that meant you and Luke were feeling more adventurous than you had before.
Constantly pushing the boundaries being less careful than before as you were now even spending nights in the Hughes apartment.
As your life360 began to have these spurs where it randomly turned off only to be turned on when you were minutes away from Nico’s apartment. You seemed to feel this thrill as your brothers phone calls came in wondering why your location had gone off.
Dawson made the mistake of walking into the Hughes apartment one day when Jack was running late making him the first and only one to have seen it.
You had been straddling Luke’s lap when the Mercer boy walked in “Hughesy I didn’t know you had - y/n!” The boy clutched his chest in surprise as you locked eyes with him.
Some would have called this, strike one.
After all of the threats that Nico gave the boys Dawson was surprise that it only took him this long to get with you.
Luke was quick to place you next to him and before either one of you could beg for his silence Jack was home “oh I didn’t know you were going to be here y/n.” Swollen lips and messy hair didn’t seem to be picked up by the older Hughes boy as he flashed you a friendly smile “you want to stay for lunch?” He added letting you and Luke know that you were in the clear with him.
The younger Hughes boy frowned as you got up “I’m actually meeting Nico for lunch.“ You explained sending Luke a wink “I’ll see you soon Hughesy.” His nickname rolled off of your tongue as you left the apartment “I didn’t know that you two were friends.” Jack had to say that you and Luke were not a pairing he thought he’d ever see.
Next you seemed to grow ballsier than ever.
After a successful preseason the entire team were at Nico’s apartment for a celebration party.
Of course your brother sent you an invite as you were spending that weekend in New Jersey.
Much to Nico’s dismay you were hidden from your brothers side for most of the night.
Primarily because you were a bit too focused on a certain Hughes boy “baby you’re going to have to keep quiet.” Luke raised his finger to your lips as you rode his cock.
Your eyes fluttered as your nails raked up his chest “you’re so good for me.” You groaned as his finger rubbed against your clit “y/n you there?” The knock at the door made Luke wrap his lips around your breast in an attempt to suppress his own moans.
Say it with me now, strike two.
You’re chewed at the inside of your cheek “little busy.” You whined making the mental note to kill Luke later.
The boy smirked from beneath you as your hands locked into his hair “Jack is just looking for Luke and he said he saw you with him last.” That almost felt like strike two in the now game of baseball that you had Luke had found yourselves in.
Nico groaned as you remained silent “I sort of wanted an answer from you kid.” It made you roll your eyes as Luke squeezed your ass “I’ll help you find him in a sec.” Your head fell back when Luke’s lips grazed over your collarbone.
You grumbled “I would have liked if you could do it now.” You were grateful that the door was locked because Nico would have opened it by now.
If Luke hadn’t been bringing you close to an orgasm you would have killed your brother “Nico give me a minute.” You were dangling closer to hitting the older boy “okay jesus I’ll see you in the kitchen.” When Nico finally left Luke was able to go back to what he was doing beforehand.
He watched as your lips pursed “I’m gonna come Luke.” You cried making the boy beneath you capture your lips in a kiss.
It was hot as he held your hips against his “where are you going?” Luke complained as you got off of him before he had the chance to do as much as cuddle you reached for your dress “remember Nico?” You spoke in a duh tone shaking your head.
The red dress wasn’t doing a lot for your body “maybe you should find something else.” Luke mumbled seeing the bruises already forming on your collarbone “maybe you should get dressed before our brothers realise that we’re both in here?” You proposed realising that he was right.
The Hughes boy pulled you back by your hand “you’re so hot when you’re bossy.” Luke mumbled pecking your lips.
Finally and by far you’re most stupid of all moments.
Otherwise known as the time that Nico finally caught on.
It was when Luke had scored his first goal of the regular season and you couldn’t help but praise him tonight.
Naturally you in the crowd as it was in New York but as you ran past the crowd of family and friends of the Islander players you were trying to find Luke.
It shouldn’t have been a hard challenge given his height but still there you were trying and failing to find him “there you are!” His voice came from behind you.
He wrapped his arms around your torso so by the time you had spun around you were now facing him “hey.” You smiled looking up at him.
His hands comfortably found their way to your cheeks making Luke grateful that he had taken his gloves off moments before “what are you doing?” You mumbled trying to see what he was getting at as you could hear your brothers laughs echo off of the walls.
Luke ran his thumb over your lower lip “he is so busy talking to Jack that neither one of them is going to notice a thing.” The Hughes boys words made you feel at ease “bout time I congratulate you on that goal then?” You smiled as he nodded dropping his head to yours.
The two of you forgot how good it felt having his lips on yours as you two had been so busy recently that the idea of hanging out was simply out of the question “what the fuck is this?” A loud voice pulled you two back to reality.
Strike three, you should have been out.
Your eyes went wide as you saw the irritated Nico in front of you “look Luke I might not be good at these things but-” your ramble was cut short as Luke matched your expression “run?” He asked slowly repositioning you to block your brothers attempt at running after him.
Part of you wanted to do more as Nico cut in “I’m going to kill you Hughes.” The captain saw you as his little baby who needed to be protected at all times, even if that was from Luke Hughes.
“definitely run.”
846 notes · View notes
mochalate · 8 months ago
Text
[bonus] new notification!
Tumblr media
osamu miya x reader || w/c: 1.4k no one knows atsumu like osamu does. This is a bonus chapter to my atsumu x reader series, new notification, but can be read standalone. Reader is a nutritionist for the Jackals. [see masterlist here] c/w: angsty
Tumblr media
Growing up, sometimes Osamu would wonder what it might have been like to live in a world without Atsumu.
It's a thought that had felt improbable, and maybe even a little irrational— like thinking what it would have been like to have grown up in Hokkaido instead of Hyogo.
It was ridiculous, because the Miyas had lived and worked in Hyogo for generations— without even the whisper of a chance of ever leaving at any point in their history; and he was Osamu Miya, twin brother of Atsumu Miya. 
It was how things were. 
And growing up like that with lives so intertwined, meant that one way or another, Atsumu would show up at Onigiri Miya at least once a week; long after they were no longer considered a set. 
(Osamu didn’t want to say it was a twin thing, because he hated people calling anything he did a twin thing… but really, it was a twin thing.)
It was routine. Atsumu would walk in around the end of the afternoon, claim a stool near the cash register, order a plate, and then chat with Osamu for a couple of hours.
(Osamu is grateful for this. He knows he hasn’t been to even a quarter as many games of Atsumu’s as Atsumu has to Onigiri Miya’s lunch rushes.)
It was routine, so he notices when something is different— he notices when Atsumu brings you, one Saturday afternoon.
These are the first words you ever say to him, over the weekend special: “Oh, oh, this is lovely.”
It’s not very busy (and well, a pretty woman was complimenting his food) so he talks a little more than he usually does. “Ya want to know what’s in it?”
“Definitely.”
“The trick is in the sauce. Ya gotta get the spice mix just right, and then whip it with some olive oil.” Osamu rattles off a list, as he rings up another customer.
Atsumu looks lost. “What the hell is fenugreek?”
“It’s a spice,” you say, as you scribble everything down on a napkin. “It’s kind of bitter, but it balances out the rest.”
He's surprised. “Yer kidding, how does anything bitter taste this good?“
“That's because it's not alone!”
“Know yer way around spices?” Osamu asks.
“She’s a freak about food just like you,” Atsumu scoffs. “She knows.”
You meet his eyes for a second; and then quickly look away, embarrassed without that buffer of being entirely a stranger. 
Interesting, Osamu thinks.
Tumblr media
“And you know, Sakusa was looking, so he said the cookies were fine.” You lean in conspiratorially. “But I saw him spitting into a napkin.”
Osamu winces. “He’s got a hell of a sweet tooth. Sorry ya had to see that.” He can’t imagine it was fun, having your cooking rejected so dramatically.  
To his surprise, you laugh. “Oh no, it was my fault. Does anyone like raisin bran? I like that he’s so honest.”
You’ve started to show up at Onigiri Miya a lot, mostly at night, near closing. You’re not as frequent a visitor as Atsumu; but you’re there enough for him to wonder if you’re showing up as he begins to square away the receipts. 
When you do come, you always have food with you. You always want to know what he thinks of your recipes.
(They start to taste better and better. He starts to look forward to it.)
The last customer, an old man, shuffles towards the register and passes him some crumpled bills. Osamu thanks him, and signals his staff to start closing. 
“Do you have a lot left to do before you go home?” you ask. 
He shrugs. “I could let the staff take care of it. But I try to help out with some of the little stuff.”
“Like?”
“Well…” Osamu bends down, and pulls out the box of fresh paper napkins. “I have to refill the holders.
“Oh, I can help with that!”
“I couldn’t ask ya to—”
You wave him off. “Don’t be silly, it’s no trouble. I’m always taking up your time, it’s the least I could do.”
It’s been a long time since Osamu has thought of being an only child. Somewhere in between when they started kindergarten (where Osamu had discovered that was an option) and the present, Atsumu had become a fact of life.
Now, as he watches you move around the tables, he thinks you’ve started to slot into his life pretty well too. 
Tumblr media
It’s the morning after you stay over that first night that he realises he’s in a little too deep.
It’s completely innocent— you both just lost track of time, working on a project for the Jackals together. Osamu couldn’t let you go home alone that late at night, and you’d known him for months at this point. He certainly hoped you didn’t think he was a creep.
It’s completely innocent. But that didn’t change the fact that you were making breakfast for him, in his kitchen, first thing in the morning. It didn’t change the fact that he’d woken up to the delicious smell of frying eggs, and an apartment that felt alive. 
(It doesn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat when you smile at him over your shoulder.)
“Take a seat! Eggs are almost done.”
Osamu sits. This isn’t real. You’re dressed and ready for the day, and you look far too put together and professional to fit into the cosy fantasy that’s fighting to play out in his head. 
“Do you like them scrambled?” you ask, as you set two plates of scrambled eggs on the kitchen table and pull out a chair for yourself. “Atsumu said he liked scrambled eggs best, once. So I thought—” you cut yourself off, embarrassed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed that just because you’re twins.”
Death. Taxes. Atsumu. Facts of life. Where every conversation inevitably ends up. 
“I like ‘em,” Osamu says, as he shovels a spoonful into his mouth. “Thanks.”
(It tastes just a little bit better than when he makes them.)
Tumblr media
When Atsumu nervously asks him if cooking together is a euphemism; he realises three things.
One; that Atsumu has figured out that the ‘company’ Osamu has vaguely referred to having over is you.
Two, that his brother has, at the very least, a massive crush on you.
And three, that he inexplicably feels guilty for his attempts at flirting with you.
Tumblr media
It’s not up to him, he thinks. And it’s not up to Atsumu. It’s up to you. 
He’s still thinking that when he stops you from accidentally touching the cast iron on the stove. He’s thinking it when he feels the soft skin of your wrist, and when he hurriedly lets go to try and turn his attention back to the broth he’s making.
(You’re a little out of sorts today. He doesn’t know why. He wants to ask, but every time he marshalls the words onto his tongue, that damn guilt keeps rearing its head.)
He’s thinking it when you ask him if he thinks you have a chance with Atsumu; and when he considers, for one shameful moment, if it was okay to be selfish just this once. Tell you he doesn’t think Atsumu is interested in anyone. Make a joke about how the only thing Atsumu is capable of loving is a volleyball.
Atsumu, who showed up week after week. Who fought his parents until they agreed to support Osamu’s entrepreneurial dreams. His brother, who he knew better than anyone, who he knows would back off and make it all too easy for him to believe that lie if Osamu ever told him he was interested in you.
So he doesn’t think about it after that, and settles for touching you one last time, in the guise of friendship.
Tumblr media
Osamu hears you giggle at something his brother said, as he heads into the back of the restaurant. 
He tells himself he’ll get over it, as he puts a takeout box together. It’s true. Eventually, he’ll be able to listen to that sound without running to hide in a kitchen. 
Osamu feels himself falling into the comfort of familiar movements— chopping the ingredients and shaping the rice; feeling the sticky, starchy grains between his palms. 
It’ll be okay.
(It’s better this way. He knows Atsumu well. He’s never been good at handling bitter food.)
Tumblr media
If you're here after part 4, here are the [end notes] If you found this in the Osamu tag, consider reading [the original fic?] Or maybe one of [my others?] Please leave a like/reblog/reply if you enjoyed. ♥️♥️
153 notes · View notes
myownwholewildworld · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
iii. like obsidian & quartz - acta, non verba
chapter 2 | series masterlist | ao3 | main masterlist | chapter 4 pairing: conqueror!marcus acacius x ofc!reader. summary: your efforts to get the ball rolling on your plan get shunted aside by marcus' chivalry. a/n: hey, hi, hello! i'm sorry it's taken me a month to post the third chapter, but here it is! 💖 i do find posting this series a bit nerve-wracking, just because i have the feeling that this plot is bigger than my writing skills so i keep wondering if i'm making it justice. but i'm rolling with it anyways haha as always, all interactions welcome, i do appreciate you liking, sharing and/or commenting! take care <3 warnings: 18+, mdni. some impure thoughts. one account of a handjob (👀). sexual tension. misogyny. a fair bit of swearing. sword fight, death, wounds, blood... you know the drill. dialogue in italics means it’s spoken in gaelic (unless stated otherwise, i.e. latin) when marcus and callie are in the same scene. marcus is 48, ofc!reader is 26. w/c: ~9.9k. (i'm truly sorry) dividers by @saradika-graphics taglist at the end (let me know if you want to be added/removed please!)
Tumblr media
“Here again, wee lass?” Cormag’s croaky voice caught you off guard.
You jumped in place and almost hit the back of your head against the shelf above.
You were bent over a pile of baskets in the kitchen, trying to count how many wild parsnips there were left. With your family gone, you had to look after your people. You worried there was not much left to eat, but the old cook seemed to be good at rationing. The Romans had no measure when it came to food, rapidly dwindling the stock saved for the village. There were way too many mouths to feed now, and the first harvest of the root vegetables would not be for at least another six months.
Your blood boiled when you saw the feasts the Romans were served every night while the servants had a measle chunk of bread and a watered-down broth. You were all living under tyranny — one you hoped to topple. Only if fucking Marcus Acacius was not such a tight cunt, you would be closer to your goal.
It wasn’t for your lack of trying though. Every night you were as suggestive as you could, considering how many pairs of eyes were watching you — enemies’ and allies’ alike. The first lusting after you, wondering if you were a whore who could warm up their bed at night, and the second curious about what game you were up to. Not many people were privy to your plan.
“Ah, ye ogre! You scared the shit out of me,” you chuckled, hand on pounding heart, when you turned around to face him.
Cormag’s thick brows knitted together, his big, round nose red with rage.
“I told you I didn’t want to see you around here until at least tomorrow,” he barked, arms folded with disapproval.
“Come on, Cormag. I’ll work tonight and then—”
“Nay, I don’t want to hear it. You are not working tonight. You’ve worked the last eight nights in a row,” he said between gritted teeth. “I want you to go home to Bonnie and rest.”
You huffed, now your turn to cross arms.
“I need no rest. I am fresh as a daisy, couldn’t be better,” you lied through your teeth.
The reality was you were knackered. You had been helping out in the kitchens day and night, much to Cormag’s despair. If you were not doing a stock check, you were shuffling stuff around for the next meal or cleaning after those filthy, mannerless soldiers. And you were the savages, the cheek they had was beyond you.
“Don’t bullshit me, I can see right through it. Those grey circles under your eyes are screaming for some sleep,” he replied, getting closer to you.
His heavy hands landed on your shoulders, forcing you to turn around and pushing you towards the door. You resisted, digging your heels into the cobblestone.
“Cormag, mas e do thoil e (please)! If I go home, I’m just going to get bored. I need something to occupy my mind with,” you pleaded with him, but he was deaf as a rock to your request.
“The whole point of sleeping is to empty your mind, not to occupy it with something,” he stopped dragging you once you were through the arch.
Sleep had evaded you since your whole family had been murdered. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw Marcus’ gladius sinking in your father’s belly, your brothers’ and sister’s intertwined arms as they burnt to ashes, your mother’s mangled body while the Earth swallowed her whole. As if you didn’t have enough demons as it was, tragedy had knocked on your door once more — unannounced, greedy even.
You spun around, flashing your eyelashes at him, puppy eyes and all. Cormag just shook his head no, unwavering, and pointed towards the corridor that would lead you outside.
“I want you out of my sight for one day, fear beag (little one). Humour me, I beg you,” it was almost a prayer, but you knew Cormag did not have one sanctified bone in his body.
“Okay, just one night. But I’ll be back tomorrow!” You shouted over your shoulder, a proper threat, as you sauntered towards the hall.
It was still the early evening, but the courtyard was brimming with life. There were a few legionaries dotted around, swords at the ready. They seemed to train late into the night before they burst in into the great hall to eat and drink like gluttons.
As your feet slithered through the wet grass, you suddenly felt a heavy pair of eyes on you. Brown, beautiful— no, dreadful eyes, you were sure. You didn’t need to look to know that Marcus was watching your every step — your body burnt hot every time he would study you with so much intensity.
And he was doing that again, just now. You debated whether to lock eyes on him or not, but it was a lost fight. Soon enough, your green orbs located him in his black and golden armour walking towards the keep, mud up to his knees and a wild look on his face. One you had not seen before — a crack in his steadfast façade.
Your brows slightly furrowed, almost coming to a halt, while you tried to understand what was different. Then you saw it: his sword was stained with blood. He was not coming back from training, but… from battle? Your heartrate spiked; your eyes slightly widened as your fingers clutched a fist of your long skirt.
What battle? What had happened? What was going on? Who had he hurt? Did you know them? Had you lost someone dear? Was death knocking at your door once more?
You tamed your features as he approached, putting on your best act as you calmed down your quick breathing. His eyes never left yours, not while he walked from the portcullis to the keep, not once.
As he got to where you were, he nodded in your direction, as if to say, “don’t worry, I’m okay.” You then understood he mistook your concern, thinking it was for him. Oh, how wrong he was… You were not worried about him in the slightest, but about whoever succumbed to his sword.
As soon as he and his retinue disappeared into the keep, you bunched your skirt up and started running towards the village, dreading what you might find there.
Five minutes later, you were in the town’s square. A crowd was gathered around the stone well. The shrieking cry of a mother cradling his dead son pierced through the silence, boring into your heart.
“My wee lad, mo mhac (my son)!” Her screams formed a knot in your throat, one so tight you feared you could not breath.
You forged your way through the multitude, finding the woman on her knees, hugging her son close to her chest. You knew them — you knew everyone in your lands, if not by face, by name at least. These you knew by face and name.
Torcall was standing right behind her, blood on his clothes indicating he had been the one bringing the lad back for his mother to mourn.
Torcall’s sombre expression prevented you from saying anything, even when you looked at him for answers. He just shook his head no and turned around to speak to a young man. You quickly recognised him too, Dòmhnall — son to the grieving woman, brother to the deceased boy. Dòmhnall nodded to Torcall’s words and vanished.
Torcall made his way towards you and pushed you aside.
“What the fuck is going on, Torcall?”
“People are growing restless, Callie. The Romans were by the firth, training in the murky waters. Some lads saw Acacius alone for one second and thought they could take him,” he didn’t need to explain what the outcome had been.
“What were they thinking? Taking on the General? How old were they?”
“Around ten and five. When Acacius killed the boy, his friends panicked, dragged him out and retreated. I found them in the woods. The others were lucky to escape alive,” Torcall sighed heavily and so did you.
“We all need to be careful here. We’ve got to play the long game. Once we have enough information from them, then we can start planning some skirmishes to diminish their numbers, but not before,” you pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration as you both walked towards Bonnie’s.
“People don’t listen to reason when they feel threatened,” he looked at you askance, then back down to his feet, momentarily lost in thought. “You need to speak to some people, let the rumour spread that you’re working towards freedom — otherwise they’ll feel like they’ve been forgotten, and rightfully so. Let people know that they will need to be ready to fight when you command them. Give them some hope, something to look forward to.”
You didn’t want to show your hand too early, but Torcall was partially right. If this continued, if people tried to get their own justice, it would end up being more tragic than what ought to be. You could not endure more senseless loss of life, your clansmen dying for naught.
Your plan was so clear in your head, a simple to-do list —gain Marcus’ trust, kill off his army little by little, then finish him once he was the last man standing— but yet you hoped effective. If someone deviated, if someone betrayed you, then it would all be over way too soon. And you would end up like your mother — left for dead, hung in a cage off the keep as if you were a rat exposed to the elements.
“My athair’s retinue are already in the know,” you thought out loud, lips pouting with doubt. “But I did make them swear they would not tell a soul.”
Torcall propped open the wooden door to Bonnie’s crannog, the creaking noise welcoming you to the only home you knew now.
“I’ll go speak to my cousins, Seumas and Anndra, tomorrow. I know how eager they are to start a war, so this might appease them. I don’t want people up in arms just yet, we’ll wait for the Romans to be at their lowest,” you whispered back to him.
“Uhm, maybe—” Torcall’s voice got drown by the ones of his children.
“Auntaidh, auntaidh (auntie)!”The synchronised cacophony of your niece and nephew swept away part of the guilt you were feeling, forcing a wide smile onto your lips.
Tumblr media
“I don’t think she’s here tonight, Marcus,” Maximus jest made his head turn to his direction.
With a cocked brow, Marcus feigned ignorance, the wooden fork in his hand mindlessly pushing around a lone meatball on his plate.
“Who?” He asked, as if neither of them knew who Maximus was referring to.
Your presence in the great hall every night had become a welcomed sight, one he had grown used to over the last few days. Not because it was soothing, but because it caused havoc. That was what he welcomed — someone who was not taken aback by his presence, someone who would hold his gaze and wouldn’t fold, someone who would shamelessly say his first name the way you said it nine nights ago.
And if he was entirely honest with himself, he also welcomed your advances. Not that he was showing it, but every taunting Dux Meus (my General/Leader/God), every suggestive glance, every time you touched him, his skin would set ablaze. It was just a harmless game, as long as it remained just that. He was here to do a job, and nothing should get in the way of that — even if a red-haired, green-eyed nymph tempted him down the path of infidelity.
How hypocritical of him to think of all the things he would do to you if given the chance, when he despised his wife for doing exactly that.
“What was her name? Connie? Charlie?” Maximus tapped his chin with one finger, pretending to think.
“Callie,” Marcus bit the bait without realising.
“Ah, yes. Callie. How could you forget when the poor woman has been throwing herself at you for more than a week now and you have given her nothing in return?” The commander observed with an ample grin. “Have you claimed her yet? Fucked her?”
His whole body went rigid with rage at Maximus’ provocation. Sometimes he hated his friendship with him, the liberties he took even though he was above the man in the command chain. If it wasn’t because there were still people on the dais, Marcus would have punched him square in the jaw to shut him up.
Instead, his eyes darted to his friend’s with a dark warning in them. Maximus laughed it off, leaning back on his chair and looking at him with a mischievous smile.
“I’ll take that as a no then. I bet she’s tired of being ignored and that’s why she’s not here tonight. Maybe she’s fucking one of your legionaries in the barracks right now. Damn, maybe I’ll do that myself—”
“Are you fucking done?” He interrupted, the legs of his chair screeching as he dragged it backwards to stand up.
“Have I touched a nerve now?” Maximus’ smile just grew bigger as he stood up too, palming Marcus’ shoulder. “I’m just messing with you, old friend. Helping you, actually. You need to get laid, clear your mind of war for one night. Your hair is greyer now than what it was a month ago.”
“I don’t need your advice nor your teasing. It may be all fun and games to you, but there’s a lot on the line here,” Marcus sneered as they walked down the corridor formed by cheery and drunk soldiers sat at their tables.
He wasn’t worried about his reputation but all the debts he owed. Not him, specifically, but his wife. The lush life she led at home would ruin him eventually.
Maximus’ demeanour changed, hands laced on his back and head bowed down in deep thought.
“I know what’s at stake, Marcus. We all are doing what we can to find the instigator,” only then Marcus realised that Maximus was talking about the attempt on his life that afternoon. “Valerius’ henchman was able to follow the boy into the forest. He’s definitely dead.”
He said it as if it was good news, but that death would haunt Marcus at night. It had been just a boy, probably not more than ten and six, who had met his fate at his sword. Marcus had tried to keep him at bay, but when the boy lunged forwards with a small knife on his hand, he basically impaled himself on the gladius Marcus was holding to ward him off.
“Good to hear,” he replied with a flat, lacking voice.
Maximus angled his head, then shook it.
“Good night, Marcus. I’ll let you know if I see your Callie entertaining the men in the barracks,” Maximus waved him goodbye, light-heartedly.
“Sod off,” he rolled his eyes, before turning the corner.
A tiny part of him wanted to go after his friend and check himself, make sure you were not fucking another man.
That thought made him frown. What you did or didn’t do was none of his business. In fact, you were a free woman and could do as you pleased. Even if that meant you were not pleasing him.
Tumblr media
You threw the saddle on Kelpie’s back — she was your late mother’s horse. The horse was as black as coal with a shiny, short coat. She was a young one, so still needed a fair amount of training — at least, she was properly socialised. Mòrag had died before she could train her newest addition. This horse was, most probably, the closest you would ever be to your màthair (mother).
The mare neighed loudly when you tried to adjust the saddle on her belly and moved around nervously, trotting in place to put distance between you two. You shushed her, caressing her muzzle and chin groove.
“Shh, shhh… It’s okay, àlainn (lovely). I see you don’t like that, do you?” You whispered in a calming manner until the mare quietened down.
You leaned forward until your forehead pressed against hers and then placed a gentle kiss on the bridge of Kelpie’s nose before reaching towards her back to remove the untied saddle.
“Barebacking it is then,” the idea didn’t thrill you, but you didn’t fancy walking all the way to Bun Craobh (Bunchrew).
That morning you had gone out to the barn to speak to Anndra and Seumas, only to find out they were no longer there. When you went back into the crannog, Bonnie mentioned they had left the morning prior. Something about a carpentry job in the next town over required their attention, or that was they had told their mother.
You had a nagging feeling that wasn’t true. The siblings were ardent defenders of your family, so you knew they would not stand idly. What brought them to Bun Craobh though, you were not sure but intended on finding out.
You led Kelpie out of the stables and into the courtyard of your castle. You hoped no one would notice you sneaking out with a horse that allegedly didn’t belong to you, but you were obviously out of luck — had been for a while now.
“Hey, puella (young lady)! Where do you think you’re going with that horse?” One of the roman soldiers cut you off, hands on hips and a deep frown. You recognised him from sitting on the dais with Marcus, although you didn’t know his name.
You cursed him under your breath, but composed a sweet smile, when you just wanted to knee his balls and run past him.
“I’m in need of a horse. We are out of some herbs and spices in the kitchens, so I was going to visit the town’s healer…” You explained with your eyes averted down and fingers laced in front of you.
“I’ll take care of this, Cassius,” Marcus appeared on his back, a heavy, broad and very masculine hand landing on the shoulder of the man in front of you.
For a brief second, you saw a flicker of disgust in his eyes, but Cassius quickly masked it with a deferent nod before walking away. Your eyes followed him, curious as to what you had just seen. Did Cassius despise Marcus? Why?
“Where are you going, Callie?” The General’s deep, throaty voice made you look in his direction.
For a second, you got lost in his chocolate eyes — there was an almost imperceptible sadness in them, a tinge of regret that seemed to haunt him every day and every night. How could that possibly be when he dispatched people to their deaths so mindlessly, so effortlessly?
“Cormag needs some bits for his cooking, Dux Meus,” you explained again, and there it was.
His irises darkened with the last two words, the sadness transforming into something else — liquid darkness. You held his gaze, hypnotised by how the desire rapidly kicked the sadness out of him. And you knew he was holding onto every bit of his control, taming his body not to react to your words — but his eyes he could not govern. They were a window to his lust.
You fought with your own craving. The way he stared at you made your skin run hot as ember and slick pool in your slit. You had been wondering what it would feel like to be fucked raw by a man like Marcus Acacius; you had even fantasized about it a few nights.
An donas dubh (dammit)! If it wasn’t for how crowded Bonnie’s crannog was, you would have even touched yourself to the thought of him plunging in and out between your thighs.
That idea was so foreign to you, it took you aback.
“Is that okay?” His question lingered; Marcus’ head tilted with knitting brows.
You looked at him doe eyed as you came out of your wet haze. Fuck, stop imagining things, he’s right there talking to you! You reprimanded yourself before blinking a few times to clear your mind.
“I-I’m sorry, Dominus (Master)?” The slight stammer in your voice was not faked this time around.
“I said I’ll accompany you to wherever you need to go. It’s not safe out there, even less so for a lonely maid serving the Romans,” he repeated.
That offer shocked you because you were not expecting such gallantry from him. You also had to smother a snicker — you were not at risk of anything, this was your land, your people. But Marcus did not know that.
“Oh, it’s not necessary, my lord. I know my way around—”
“I insist. Please,” he added, his fists curled on his sides.
If the look in his eyes indicated anything, that would be that Marcus Acacius would not accept no for an answer. And that would mess your whole itinerary up, because you could not take him to Bun Craobh, in case your cousins were really planning something. Now you would really have to go to Naimh’s new cottage, even though that was not your plan at all.
“Awright, aye,” you conceded, an unwilling smile crooking your lips.
Tumblr media
“I didn’t see you last night in the great hall,” Marcus broke the surprisingly comfortable silence.
He was riding on your left and you couldn’t help but turn your head to watch him. So, your efforts were going somewhere at last. For eight nights you had been on his heels, serving him as if that was what you were born to do. Your attempts at seducing him began to be so obvious, you could hear the other maids giggling to themselves every time you leaned over his shoulder, offering him a clear sight of your generous cleavage.
Even his soldiers had noticed. You had been so obvious, other men thought you were a pleasure woman and that was invitation enough for some of them to try and reach for your ass whenever you approached their tables. Disgusting behaviour, but you had to laugh your way out of it and slap some hands so no one would take offense at your rejection.
“Cormag would not let me work again. I really wanted to be there though,” you said truthfully, watching him in the corner of your eye.
Marcus straightened his back, as if suddenly uncomfortable, and studied your surroundings.
It was still early afternoon, but it seemed to be later due to the thick tree canopy above you. You were travelling westward through the dense forest that neared Beauly Firth. Naimh had moved to a crannog in the road to Bun Craobh after her home in Loch Moy had been burnt to ashes. Thankfully, she had not been home when it happened. A small win in your book.
“I see. He worries about you,” he noted, jaw tight as he spoke.
“Aye, he’s like a father to me,” that old git really was. “I should be back to work tomorrow.”
“Good,” he replied without even thinking and you knew he did not intend to say that out loud. “I mean, you’re one of the few people who speak Latin. It’s hard to communicate with the rest,” Marcus added swiftly to veil his slip of tongue.
You smiled to yourself, realising this was the first time you two were alone, away from prying eyes.
“You only need to ask, Marcus,” you whispered, your voice charged with the right hint of suggestion and provocation.
His neck snapped in your direction at your words.
“Ask what?”
He knew exactly what. The man was stubborn as a mule, playing hard to get. But he was not immune to your advances, as much as he wanted to conceal his lust for you.
“You know what,” was your simple answer before spurring Kelpie on with the heels of your leather shoes.
You spotted a small hut between some trees off the main path, that had to be the crannog that Naimh had found in her search for a new home. You had seen that cottage a few times before, always abandoned and eerie — legend said that was where the wisps would lead you at night.
Kelpie sprinted towards it, and you heard Marcus’ horse neigh a few feet behind you. You needed to act fast before good ol’ Naimh gave you away and revealed your identity. So, the moment you dismounted and Naimh was under the frame of the main door, you threw your arms around her neck.
She was a fragile woman in her late sixties, white hair and wrinkling skin. Her nose a tad too prominent, her lips wide and big, slanted eyes. She was tiny too, with a crouched back that made her look even smaller.
“Naimh!” You exclaimed excitedly, and then whispered in her ear in Gaelic, “He doesn’t know who I am. Call me Callie, play along, please.”
The old woman stilled and then patted your back in understanding.
“Ah, my sweet Callie, so good to see you. I started to think you’d forgotten about this old crone. This how you treat the elderly?” She spoke in your native language, which meant Marcus would not understand a word.
“He doesn’t understand, Naimh, you don’t need to put on the best act of your life, just be mindful of my name,” you sniggered, holding her hands with both of yours. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“So have I, leannan (darling), so have I,” she squeezed your hands before dropping hers to her sides, her eyes squinting with a bit of hatred.
Marcus cleared his throat, standing right behind you. You stepped aside.
“General, this is Naimh, our town’s healer. Naimh, this is General Acacius,” you introduced them in Latin, although you were sure Naimh did not understand much.
“My pleasure,” he bowed his head slightly while Naimh stared him down as if he was a snake trying to steal the eggs off her nest.
The old woman just grunted and walked back inside, not responding to his pleasantry.
Shrugging, you looked at Marcus.
“Don’t mind her too much, she’s not really fond of anyone,” that much was true.
“She’s fond of you,” he pointed out with a raised brow.
“Well, yeah, that’s because I pester her a lot. I can be very insisting.”
“You definitely are,” he muttered under his breath, not intended for your ears, but you heard that.
With a sufficient grin, you turned on your heels and got inside the crannog with Marcus right behind you.
Tumblr media
By the time you were done with the visit, it was almost pitch-black outside. The weather, as everything in the Highlands, had turned too — it was dreich and drizzling, a light, damp mist hanging low, close to the ground.
You attached the thread of the little hemp sack around your waist as you waved goodbye to Naimh. She had given you an assortment of different spices she had stocked up: wild mountain thyme, dried pepper dulse and coriander grass. You were not sure if Cormag needed them, but you had to keep up with the lie in Marcus’ presence.
Both horses were lazily grazing around. They looked so different—Marcus’ white as a quartz, yours black as obsidian—they reminded you of how opposite you both were. Ironic, really, that the mare and the stallion were now approaching each other and rubbing necks.
“Kelpie,” you called her. Your mother’s horse barely looked at you, too busy grooming the back of Marcus’ horse with her teeth. “Hey!”
Kelpie almost brayed like a donkey, showing her annoyance, before she cantered towards you with a loud neigh.
“Oi, calm down. We’ve got to go back,” you asked of her, grabbing the reins.
“Kelpie? That’s an unusual name,” Marcus said while he jumped onto his horse’s back graciously.
Your mother had let you choose the name when it was first born, in one of your last visits to your family home as a married woman. A brief respite shared with Mòrag where you had forgotten who you were married to — you had spent the whole afternoon coming up with uncommon names and had finally settled for Kelpie.
“It’s a creature that inhabits lochs. They are shape-shifting spirits that usually take the form of a black horse,” you explained as you managed to get on top of the mare. A difficult task, considering there was no saddle to hold onto. “Some people say they are evil because they prey on us. They drag their victims into the water, devour them, and throw the entrails to the water's edge, so they can lure their next casualty. I think that’s just survival. There is no treachery in their nature.”
By the time you had finished talking, you were by Marcus’ side. His eyebrows almost touched each other, and you wondered if he had picked on your cutting remark about treachery. Whether he did or not, you did not know.
“Are they just stories to scare children away from deep water or are they real?” He questioned after a deliberating minute as both of your horses resumed the path ahead.
“I have never seen a kelpie myself, but I know folk who have perished to them,” you shrugged, the image of dismembered bodies by Loch Ness coming back to you. “It’s not a pretty picture.”
“I bet. Your people seem to have many stories about lurking creatures. I have seen the tapestries telling the story of the dragon-like monster living in the lake nearby,” he said with a pinch of incredulity in his voice.
“Loch. We call them lochs, not lakes,” you corrected him.
“Sorry, loch,” he said back with a soft ch, head cocked towards you. It was a good attempt.
“And that would be Nessie. She’s a staple around here, everyone loves her,” you joked. “She’s a Kelpie, but one which transforms into some sort of dragon. I’m not sure though, never seen her myself. But if you ever speak to Cormag, he’ll tell you all about her. Best mates they are, so he says.”
As soon as you spoke of the cook, you realised your mistake. You were talking too much, telling him all about a land he hated, a land he wanted to steal from you. A land he would destroy along with all its people. There was no point in explaining to him all about what made Caledonia special if he was here to wreck your life.
“The cook?” He pressed and you simply nodded, remaining silent.
For ten minutes neither of you talked. Weirdly, the silence was not ever bothersome. You didn’t have the need to fill it, and neither did he.
Until he did.
“My stud’s name is Faun,” he muttered, resuming the dead conversation where you had left it.  The stallion’s ears perked up at the sound of his name. “They are half-human, half-goat creatures. They inhabit forests like this back home. Some say they instil fear in travelling men and drive them to madness, others say they can guide you to safety. Never encountered one myself either.”
You turned your head around to glance at him. His story was strangely similar to yours, just adapted to his own beliefs. How could two very different people share something so unique as your love for mythical creatures?
“They sound beautiful. And before you judge me for saying that… beauty is on the eye of the beholder,” you added with a mellow laugh. You found goats endearing.
Marcus’ serious expression softened. “Evil or not, I do think they are too.”
Your eyes locked for an eternal second and you wondered why there was an unfamiliar feeling sitting low in your belly.
A split second was all it took to make you snap out of whatever brief connection you suddenly felt.
You heard the whistling sound before you saw the arrow sticking out of Marcus’ left shoulder, in that unprotected spot where the shoulder pad met the breastplate. The arrow had flown just a few inches away from your ear.
Marcus’ eyes widened as reality settled in. Out of nowhere, three men emerged from the woods, face painted with soot—the whites of their eyes sparkled under the full moon.
The sudden movement scared off Kelpie, who harshly stirred around and started galloping towards the trees with no regard for her rider—you. You managed to hold on to the low branches of the trees, Kelpie slipping from between your thighs as the mare ran towards safety alone, leaving you hanging from a branch.
The clink of metal behind you forced you to let go of the branch, landing on your feet like a graceful cat. When you turned around, you saw that Marcus had dismounted Faun. His stud, at least, had not abandoned his rider to the mercy of his enemies the same way your mare had. Little traitorous horse.
“Get back!” Marcus shouted at you as he repositioned his body between you and the threat of the threesome.
But they were no threat to you, you were sure. They were here to kill him. The same way some fucking kids had tried to end him that very afternoon. Were people plain, thick gòrach (stupid)?
“People are growing restless,” Torcall had said to you yesterday. So much so they would endanger you too? Your cover? What were you supposed to do now?
If you helped them and Marcus survived, you would be dead before dawn, your cover blown.
If you helped them and Marcus died, Agricola would appoint a new man in Marcus’ stead. One that might not fit well into your plan. And you would be hunted down too.
If you helped him and they survived, they would go back to your folk and tell them all how you betrayed them, how you turned against them — how you protected the General.
If you helped him and they died… Your conscience would be tainted forever.
Or you could do nothing — let destiny run its course. The General deserved to die for what he had done to your family; it was actually only fair. But Marcus needed to be killed off at the right time — not sooner nor later. Just right, as a pig hung for slaughter on the first days of winter.
As the Romans would say, Alea iacta est (the dice is cast).
“Caileag fealltach (traitorous lass)!” One of the men screeched before leaping on you, sgian-dubh (small knife) on his left and a longer sword on his right hand.
The raucous sound of steel colliding sparked life back into you. Marcus’ gladius had curbed the attack. And with a thundering flourish of his sword, the edge of it hit the man’s side with deadly precision. The attacker crumbled to his knees, a fountain of blood varnishing the grass underneath.
“Mac na galla (son of a bitch), I’ll have your head for this!” The taller man cowed in Gàidhlig.
Marcus’ hand pushed you back — unbeknownst to you, you had taken a few steps forward, wanting to say something, anything to stop this madness.
Marcus and his opponent exchanged a few strident blows. Despite the General being substantially older than his adversary, his movements were more gracious, trained, measured, while the other man’s were sloppy and directionless. It was only a matter of minutes until one of them tired out, and your bet, regrettably, was on your clansman.
“What is a lass like you doing with a man like him? Are you his whore or what? Have you no shame, woman?” The recriminatory voice of the last man came to you in your mother tongue, albeit a slightly different accent.
He had swerved towards you while Marcus was distracted with the other man, too focused on the dance of swords. You were unarmed, this fight you would not win.
Your kinsman’s sword swayed in front of you, and you managed to jump back, avoiding the blade by a mere inch. Your eyes shot back to his, back slightly crouched, trying to predict his next movement.
A malicious smirk appeared on your opponent’s lips, as if he was enjoying himself.
“I’m going to send you to fucking Dubnos (Hell), so you can rot there with the low-lives you get involved with,” the threat was not veiled.
He lunged forward and you dropped to the floor — eyeing the dead man’s blood-soaked sgian-dubh, you grabbed it and held it close to your chest.
“I don’t think so. I don’t want to kill you, please,” you almost begged him between gritted teeth as you dragged yourself back a few feet, slowly getting up as Marcus’ fight unfolded fifteen yards away from where you stood.
A brief glance in his direction told you he was holding up alright, just as you knew he would. You had seen him in a sword fight before — your father had died because of it. Because of him.
“Kill me? You?” he laughed out loud. “You’re just a sad, little, useless woman. What do you think you can do to me? Bet the closest you have ever been to a knife is in a kitchen, where you fucking belong. There and warming up some man’s bed, but not his,” he barked back, almost looming over you.
What he just said struck you as odd. Did this man not know how many battles you had fought besides your father, your entire family, to protect your land, your clan?
You could not recognise him under all the soot, his hair tied back and covered in mud in a pretty good attempt at concealing his identity.
Before you could question him, he lunged forwards.
“Callie, no!” You heard Marcus’ call, a note of fear sullying his words.
Tumblr media
An acute relief washed over him when the man in front of you fell to his knees, laying at your feet. A big, burgundy stain tarnished your blue dress around your belly area. A bloody knife was firm on your steady hand, your eyes devoid of emotion — had you done this before? Impossible, he thought to himself, she’s just a maid.
The relief just grew in his tight chest when your eyes locked with his. But what he saw in them caught him off guard — fear?
“Marcus!”
Then he felt it. The ripping of skin, the sinking of metal through flesh, then a few twists of the knife rearranging his guts for good measure — then warmth. Sticky, wet warmth soaking the woollen tunic underneath his armour.
“Die, bastard,” his attacker whispered in his ear, the words strangely clear to him.
Marcus’ eyes quickly drifted down to see one of those small knives the barbarians used, sunken down to its hilt on the left-hand side of his lower abdomen, right under his lorica. He didn’t feel the pain, not just yet — just rage.
He had disarmed his rival but blundered. He shouldn’t have, but the moment he realised you were no longer behind him, he frantically searched his surroundings to find you quite a few feet away from him, from his protection. He thought you dead when he saw you so close to that man, almost entrapped in an intimate embrace. Turned out, you could protect yourself alright.
His left fingers followed the red river dripping onto the ground, almost mesmerised by the sight of his own thick blood.
Snapping out of his trance and with shock still holding him upright, he effortlessly swung his sword — the other man eyeing him with fright, realising those were his last seconds on this worldly plane.
The head of the last man standing rolled off his shoulders and hit the ground with a sharp thud.
“No, Marcus, no! Don’t pull it out,” you whispered into his neck, your fingers wrapping around his on the hilt of the knife.
When did you bridge the distance? How were you so close? He hadn’t heard you. At all.
His mind went numb as more blood poured from his body, his speech slurred as his grasp on consciousness became looser by the minute.
“I need to—,” he mumbled, brows frowned and fingers tighter.
“No, you’ll bleed out. Please, listen to me. If you want to live, don’t fucking touch it,” your sweary prayer finally reached him, and he loosened up the grip on the knife. “Shite. Faun! Fucking shite, Faun! Come, boy, come!” He barely saw you waving down his horse — his sight going too.
Marcus fought to stay afloat, but the waves were relentless, bigger than him, pushing him down to the seabed. He was drowning.
“Can you— Fuck, Marcus, can you jump?”
He looked at you confused, then in front of him. Faun was standing right there, waiting for him to hop onto his back. His hand held on to the saddle but couldn’t bring himself up.
“Ad genua (to your knees), Faun,” he muttered in Latin, and the stallion knelt almost instantly.
“Thank the fucking gods he’s trained be…” Marcus didn’t hear the last of your sentence as he plummeted on top of Faun, the knife and arrow sinking further in his flesh.
Tumblr media
If it wasn’t for his impending death, you would have been relieved when Marcus fainted.
“…trained better than my mother’s mare,” was how you ended your sentence. One that would have fucked your whole plan up. And your life too.
“Fuck, this is bad. Really bad,” you muttered to yourself frantically as you sat down on the saddle.
You pushed Marcus’ body up, making him sit upright facing you with his heavy, manly thighs over yours — your knees pressing hard around Faun’s back to keep your balance as the stud stood up. You cradled Marcus’ cheeks and lightly patted him.
“Marcus. Hey, wake up,” you whispered, uprooting no reaction from him whatsoever. “Fuck, I said wake up!” You slapped him harder this time, the sound ricocheting on the trees and the palm of your hand itchy — it shouldn’t given the circumstances, but smacking him felt damn good.
The General groaned but didn’t open his eyes. With your right forearm pressed against his chest, your fingers wrapped around the arrow on his left shoulder. With as much care as you could and trying not to wiggle the arrow, you snapped the shaft at the hafting with the help of your left hand.
Marcus did not complain, so he had to be really out of it right now. You let him lean forward with his sweaty forehead lodged in the crook of your neck — way too close for comfort. You detested his proximity, but your body had a mind of its own. His warm breath fanning your skin made your hair stand.
Not the fucking time.
“Focus, dammit,” you summoned all your strength.
You were closer to Naimh’s crannog than to the Inbhir Nis’ fortress. You did not know what other threats lied ahead and Marcus was in dire need of help — you could feel his blood dripping onto the saddle, staining Faun’s white coat. Naimh would have everything you required to patch him up and her hut was well hidden.
You looked in both directions, Faun patiently awaiting your command. You veered the reins to the left.
“Hyah, hyah!” You compelled the stallion with a subtle kick of your heels.
Faun darted forward, fast as a wildcat, and you wrapped your arm around Marcus’ waist to prevent him from falling sideways to the ground.
It only took you ten minutes to get to Naimh’s again. You reined Faun back and he came to a sudden stop just a couple of feet away from the door.
“Ad genua,” you said to the horse, remembering the General’s command, and Faun knelt.
By that point, Marcus’ mind was very far away. You threaded your arms under his and  dragged him all to the crannog. There was a red trickle all the way from the saddle to where you were now.
“Fuck,” with the heel of your foot, you kicked Naimh’s door. “Naimh, it’s me, open up!”
You heard the rustling of her feet as she sauntered towards the door, swinging it open. With your back towards her, you could not see her expression, but you bet on shock.
“Obh obh (oh dear), what’s happened? Are you hurt?” You could tell Naimh was extremely worried.
“I’m fine. Him… well, not so much. We’ve been attacked. I don’t know who sent those men, but they were out for blood,” you explained as you hauled him back inside.
Thank the gods you were strong enough to grab him by his shoulders and lay him down on Naimh’s bed.
“Did you recognise them?” She asked while searching for her healing kit — a basket with a sharp, small knife, some eyed needles made of bone, wool thread and a few different species of fresh plants and herbs.
“No, I didn’t. They covered their faces in soot and their hair with mud, I could barely tell they were human,” you omitted the fact that you had to stab one of them to death to keep your cover intact and also to save yourself. Naimh was a healer, she would not understand having to take someone else’s life voluntarily.
You, on the other hand, were used to it.
Your hands worked faster than your brain — you grabbed the knife and cut Marcus’ tunic, from the edge of the skirt to his hip, so you would have better access to the wound on his lower abdomen. That was the one which was profusely bleeding, while the arrowhead seemed to block the wound enough so it wouldn’t bleed too.
You focused your eyes on the wound and not on his almost-exposed lap. You had a job to do if you wanted him to survive this. Not wanted really, you needed him to survive for now, so he could die at the right time.
You pressed the injury with your left hand, the protruding blade lodged between your middle and index fingers, and then pulled curtly from the hilt of the sgian-dubh.
Marcus’ eyes flew wide open, a restrained groan ripping his throat. His hand tightly wrapped around your wrist, his arched back slightly off the straw cushion. His orbs were wild with pain — the veins on his neck chiselled on his skin, so pronounced you thought they would explode. You kept the pressure on the wound while pushing him back down onto the bed.
“It’s okay. Relax, I’ve got you,” you tried to calm him down. His big, brown eyes studied you, considering if he should trust you with his life. His fingers were so solidly wrapped around your wrist, you were sure he was restricting your bloodflow. “You have no other option. It’s me or whatever god of the dead you praise,” you muttered, holding his gaze.
With a painful grunt, he let go of your wrist and settled back down. His jaw was so clenched, you were almost worried he would break a tooth.
“Naimh, bring me a stick of wood or something for him to chew on while I stitch him up. And some wine,” you asked of the old woman.
Soon enough you had everything you needed. You offered the woodstick to Marcus, who quickly understood what it was for and opened his mouth. You placed it between his teeth and he bit down on it.
You quickly removed the heel of your hand from the seeping gash and poured wine over it to disinfect it. Marcus hissed in pain, muffled by the stick he was chewing. You patted the area with a rag to clean it and then extended your hand towards Naimh, palm up. She had already threaded the eyed needle.
“This is going to hurt,” you warned him before piercing the first layer of skin.
You focused on the task at hand, blocking out any distractions. The needle was not the sharpest, so you had to really puncture the skin to get it through to the other side — you were sure that Marcus hated every bone of yours every time the blunt tip of the needle stroked his skin.
The wound was very deep, probably too deep for sutures, but you had no other alternative. His attacker had really intended on gutting him like a cow — the skin was ripped around the edges, as if the man had twisted the blade several times once it had already sunk in Marcus’ flesh.
By the time you were done, it still looked gnarly, but at least it wasn’t bleeding so much now. You had been so absorbed in your doing, you had not realised that Marcus had fainted again — probably a combination of blood loss and pain had sent him straight to Aengus’ embrace, God of Dreams.
You knew he was completely unconscious when you pulled the arrow out of his shoulder and followed the same procedure with not a single complaint from him. The starred scar would heal better than the butchering on his tummy. You were no expert, but at least you gave him a fighting chance.
“Naimh, could you prepare one of your concoctions, please? We need to cover the wounds and aid the healing process. Otherwise it’s going to become infected,” you asked while packing away the stuff you had used off her basket.
You saw her shuffling some shelves in search of specific ingredients and let her do her job. After putting away the basket, you walked back to the bed Marcus was splayed on.
What a fucking sight.
The lorica still covered his torso, but you had removed the shoulder plates to have better access to the arrow. The tunic underneath the cuirass that hung from his waist down was ripped apart — you had to so you could patch him up. Just a few inches away, you knew, was the core of his manhood.
You wondered… Better not to dwell there for long.
Then there were his hairy, thick thighs, and a pair of leather sandals plaited around his muscular calves. The man’s anatomy spoke of power, vigour, strength.
Most of his visible skin, along with the tunic and armour, was stained in dry, scarlet blood. The picture in front of you, although suggestive, was gruesome, bordering on sadistic. So, you definitely should not feel the way you did — curious, too curious.
“Here,” Naimh’s offering brought you back. “Apply this to the wounds, should keep any festering at bay.”
“Tapadh leibh a Naimh (thank you),” you thanked her, taking the mortar from her hands.
The mixture looked gooey and greenish — pretty regular, considering there was a ton of aloe vera in it.
“Do you want me to send word to the castle, mo bana-phrionnsa (my princess)?”, she offered, placing a little, fragile hand on your shoulder.
“Aye, if you don’t mind,” a brief pause to jog your memory. “Make sure it reaches Maximus, and Maximus only,” you added.
That commander seemed to be the closest thing to a friend Marcus had here. You had seen them on the dais, exchanging whispers and jests in a brotherly manner. Surely he would be someone Marcus would trust with his life.
“Na gabh dragh, measag (don’t worry, dear). You know my will-o'-wisps only reach those who I command them to,” her voice lowered, a sweet grin painted on her wrinkling face before vanishing through the door.
You knew Naimh came from a long bloodline of druids and sorceresses — she could be found attending to the coirtheachan (standing stones), ensuring they were clean with oblations left at their feet, speaking to animals and trees, or lighting fires with the mere snap of her fingers. Once, as a child, you saw how a wave of her hand over the flames made some sparks flicker away from the bonfire and dance through the air until they disappeared between some trees. The first wisps you had ever seen.
So when Naimh spoke of her will-o’-wisps, you did not question her one bit. You were one hundred percent sure that the message would get to Maximus in record time.
Your attention drifted back to the unconscious man on the bed. You needed to do something about the deplorable state he was in.
Tumblr media
His eyelids were so heavy, his mind so foggy, Marcus was not able to open them just yet. Coming back to his senses would take all the strength he had left and that wasn’t much. His limbs felt weighty yet jelly-like too. How damn boorish of him if this was how he greeted death, unable to even shake hands with the Parcae (Fates).
A lifetime of bloodshed and war, and this was how his life would end, away from a real battlefield. What a shame.
His mind kept wandering and almost didn’t register a soft, velvety feeling on his right shin. It was warm and light, and it came and went like a gush of wind. That feeling, that touch, expanded to his thigh, his hip, his tummy, his chest. It was everywhere, right there on the confines on his imagination and on his damn skin.
Weird what the mind would come up with when on its last legs.
Slowly he drifted away again, and when Marcus came back to once more, he wasn’t sure how long it had been. Minutes. Hours. Days?
This time though, his senses flared alive. One more than the others — the sense of touch. The previous warmth, dry before, now was wet. It dripped and dripped, creating a river that ran down his thigh.
The heaviness that had him in a chokehold had softened, and so was able to move one hand, inspecting what that liquid warmth was. Blood?
“Don’t touch,” a firm yet soothing voice warned him.
Something wrapped around his wrist and placed his hand back down on the ground. No, not on the ground… on a bed?
After several attempts, Marcus managed to flutter his eyes open. White vision first, he blinked until the fog dissipated. And then he saw you there, sat by his side — inquiring, green eyes staring him down.
He held your gaze for what seemed like an eternity, while the memories flooded back. The arrow, the attackers, the sword fight, you stabbing that man to his death, the knife deeply lodged in his abdomen. The stitching, the painful stitching.
His eyes drifted down and only then did he realise that he was completely naked. Not even a thin piece of fabric covering him, no — absolutely, fucking nothing. Bare as the day he was fucking born.
Marcus’ eyes quickly shot to yours, his heart pounding wildly, as you held a damp rag on your hand.
“What the—,” he started to complain, his throat dry and coarse.
“No need to panic. I’m just washing the blood off you,” you explained matter-of-factly, unabashed even.
“My armour, my clothes…” was the only thing he managed to mutter.
“Your armour is now clean, and your clothes are drying over there in front of the hearth. I’ve washed them for you. You’re welcome,” you replied sneeringly, rolling your eyes, as you resumed what you were doing prior to being interrupted by his questioning.
You placed the rag back down on his inner thigh and rubbed, the dried blood coming off his skin albeit with some difficulty. Too fucking close to… Fuck, I rather fucking die. He stopped your hand again, teeth gritting.
“I can do this myself,” Marcus protested.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You think I’ve not seen a naked man before? I’m a widow, Marcus. You don’t have anything I have not seen before,” and then you scrubbed his skin some more, moving upwards and stopping just inches shy of his groin.
Marcus held his breath and closed his eyes, summoning all the self-control he could muster. He really had to focus to reign the most primal reaction a man could have when a woman was touching him. He pinched the bridge of his aquiline nose, jaw clenched, as he started counting backwards from one hundred.
The General needed a distraction — if he thought about your hand so damn close to his cock, he would fucking lose it. Would throw you onto that uncomfortable mattress and would fuck some sense into you for playing with fire. Teach you a lesson or two. Maybe three.
As soon as that thought formed, he had to put it out quickly. One would think that a near-death experience would knock some sense into him, but apparently not. He was a damned man.
Your hand moved around his lap languidly, expertly avoiding his not-so-soft-now dick, and focused on rubbing some blood off his lower abdomen. Then the damp rag moved further south, and his heart climbed up to this throat.
His eyes snapped back open, looking for yours, while his fingers gripped your wrist again.
“Is there no blood anywhere else?” his voice sounded strangled, begging almost, letting go of your hand.
“Nay, I’ve already cleaned the rest of your body. I was saving the best for last, Marcus,” you whispered at the same time the rag dragged along the length of his cock.
Then the palm of your hand flattened against his impending erection, the rag forsaken on his thigh now. The little blood he had left in his veins rushed south the moment your delicate fingers wrapped around the girth of his now-throbbing cock.
You just held him there with a tight grip, eyes never leaving his in defiance. Something sinister flicked in the green of your eyes — something mischievous, lustful even, but something really dark too. Your lips were slightly parted with an intransigent smile.
“How’re you feeling? Any pain?” You dared to ask, as if you weren’t the source of his pain.
Because the only real pain he felt was all gathered on his thudding dick. Feeling his agony, you stroked him once, twice… until you were pumping him decisively, shamelessly. Your thumb caressed his glans, buttering it with his own precum.
A moan tore through Marcus’ chest, rumbling — eyes closed, letting himself rejoice in the moment. Your fingers tight around his thick shaft, putting the right amount of pressure, sent him into oblivion. His erection just became harder and harder, steely as his gladius, under your diligent care.
Marcus felt the tension building up, his balls contracting with equal parts of pain and pleasure. His erection beat rhythmically with his heart — your strokes a blessing in disguise, sent to him to release the pressure building up at the bottom of his spine. You were working him so well, so dextrously, so deliciously, he didn’t know how much longer would he last.
“I wonder if it is as tasty as it looks…” you whispered in his ear as you crouched down a little, your lips grazing his skin.
The mere image of your mouth sealed around his manhood wrecked him. So fucking much, he was close to coming just with one single fucking handjob.
And then the door swung open, making both of you jump on the spot. You quickly removed your hand from his lap and Marcus almost died at the realisation that he would not find relief tonight.
As you turned around on your seat to face the door, you threw a blanket over his lap to disguise what had really been happening.
“Naimh is back,” you exclaimed giddily to him, standing up to greet her in your language.
Fuck Naimh. Kick her out, come back.
Tumblr media
@orcasoul @immyowndefender @sjc7542 @fairiebabey
@thepalaceofmelanie @harriedandharassed @whoaitspascal87 @mewantpeepaw
@verybigvag @jessthebaker @ivoryandflame @missadangel @pepperstories
100 notes · View notes
luminoustarlight · 1 year ago
Text
"Slut!" | Modern!Anakin Skywalker
a miss americana and the heartbreak prince story
(modern!au / high school!au)
High school culture in this series is extremely dramatized and fictionalized. As mentioned in the series masterlist, the characters are 18 years old. Padmé is very out of character in this series as well. There are lots of nods to Taylor Swift lyrics in this, too. So it's really fun for swifties and star war babes.
Tumblr media
Slut
noun
a woman who has many casual sexual partners.
The definition of “slut” more accurately describes Anakin rather than you. Afterall, he is the Heartbreak Prince of Lucas High School. But men never pay the price for sleeping around. They’re awarded a higher social status. Or in Anakin Skywalker’s case, you become the Senior every Freshman boy wants to be. 
Anakin Skywalker used to be a player. Anakin Skywalker used to go through girls faster than the news could spread around school. He had no qualms with one night stands or taking a girl’s virginity because she asked him to. He was honored to be a girls’ first time. 
He dated Padmé Amidala exclusively from January until June. When the new school year began, everyone wondered who would be the next one to get their heart broken by Anakin. Nobody could’ve guessed it would be Miss Americana. 
The crowd at the Homecoming game nearly quieted when Anakin spun you around in the middle of the field. When he nuzzled his sweaty face into your neck, kissing your warm skin as if it was a greater reward than winning the football game. It took you by surprise, to say the least. You’ve only been seeing each other for about a month and had yet to interact or show affection at school. It was quite the announcement. And the message was loud and clear. Anakin had a new girl and she’s nothing like his ex. 
Padmé had watched you and Anakin with a fire fueled by jealousy in her stomach. You had a stupid, naïve smile on your face as you walked off of the field with Anakin’s varsity jacket draped over your shoulders. That should be me. Maybe it’s all an act to make me jealous. 
So that’s how the whispers began at the Homecoming dance. Padmé had rallied her cheerleading friends to start spreading rumors. By the time you walked through the gymnasium doors attached to Anakin’s arm, everyone had made up their mind about you. You’re nothing but a slut and a man-stealer. 
It’s unnerving having so many eyes on you at once. It’s like they all have a radar when Anakin walks into a room. He’s just that magnetic of a man. And he’s used to it. But it makes you uncomfortable and Anakin can sense it. 
“Are you alright?” 
You swallow and plaster on an unconvincing smile. “‘M fine.”
“Hey,” Anakin says gently. He cups your elbows and rubs his thumbs over your arms. “We’re all dressed up, you look stunning and I’m having a particularly great hair day. They might as well look at us. I want you to enjoy yourself tonight. Do you think you can do that for me?” 
Maroon 5’s Moves Like Jagger thrumming in your ears makes it difficult to think or to argue. Anakin is right. You didn’t spend $120 on an aquamarine dress for nothing. “Fine,” you concede. “But if I hear people talking about me, can we leave and go to Denny’s?” 
“They’re going to talk about you, angel,” Anakin kisses you on the cheek. “It’s just how it is. But none of it means a thing. C’mon, let’s dance.” 
You dance for about twenty minutes before needing to get something to drink. Of course it’s the same time Anakin meets up with his football friends, leaving you at the snack table with a target on your back. Serena and Molly, Padmé’s closest friends slither up next to you. 
“Hey, Slut,” Serena jeers. That insult was bound to reach your ears sooner or later. It’s by no means true or accurate but they don’t care. They’re not about to bad mouth Anakin. 
“So… you and Anakin, huh?” Molly begins. “He’s a bit out of your league, isn’t he?” 
“Don’t worry, Mol. She’s just his rebound. He’s gonna get back with Padmé when he realizes what a loser she is. No offense,” Serena adds insincerely. 
“That definitely felt like something you wanted me to take offense to,” you say. You scan the gym for Anakin, hoping he’ll see the situation you’re in and rescue you. But when you put it like that, you sound so pathetic. You can get out of this yourself. “And I’m not his rebound.” 
“No?” Molly puts her hands on his hips. “That’s not what I heard…” 
No, you tell yourself. Don’t indulge her. Whatever she has to say isn’t true. 
Serena laughs at you. “You don’t honestly think Anakin actually likes you, do you? He’s just using you to make Padmé jealous. You’re all part of his plan to get her back.” 
Even though you know Serena is lying, her words still manage to plant seeds of doubt in you. But they don’t know anything about you and Anakin. There is something special kindling between the two of you. Anakin cares about you. It’s in the way he drops off a Dirty Chai latte on your porch before going to school. It’s written in the notes he stealthily slips into your locker when he says he’s going to the bathroom in the middle of class. It’s the sweatshirts he lets you borrow and the sleepless movie nights eating buttery popcorn and stale Red Vines over the last two weekends. 
“You’re wrong,” you say with a slight quiver in your lip. You hate how Serena has made you question everything with Anakin. If it’s all just for show then why does he kiss you when no one is watching? Why did he insist on keeping your new relationship private if not to nurture your budding romance without prying eyes? 
He’s ashamed of you. 
Then why did he ask you to the dance? 
To humiliate you in front of the whole school. 
This is just a game to him. Your embarrassment is the prize. 
“Aw, I think we hurt Little Miss Americana’s feelings,” Molly feigns a sad face, dragging her finger down her cheek as if it’s a fallen tear. “I hate to make it worse but it looks like he and Padmé might be making up right now.” 
Molly and Serena point in Anakin’s direction, where he is indeed speaking with Padmé. It’s the first time you’ve seen her all night and she looks breathtaking. Her chocolate hair is curled to perfection, bouncy locks cascading over her shoulders. A plunging neckline draws your eyes down her chest and seriously, she was allowed to wear this to a high school dance? 
She’s throwing her head back dramatically, as if Anakin just told her the joke of the year. And then— dear God, you want to throw up— he’s hugging her. You count the seconds. 1…2…3… you can’t watch it anymore. You turn away from Serena and Molly abruptly and make your way out of the gymnasium. 
“So long, slut,” Serena waves. 
The brisk October air assaults your skin and invades your lungs, but it’s welcomed compared to the betrayal you feel coursing through your veins. Is this the end of Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince? You’ve only had a month with him but you want a dozen more. You’ve barely had time to discover what your relationship could become. 
Perfect pearls of salt begin falling down your cheeks. How could you have been so lovelorn? How could you have gotten it all wrong? You were too blinded by Anakin’s charm to see that it was always meant to be temporary. 
“Y/N!” Anakin calls for you. He spots you sitting on the curb with your head in your hands. 
A little piece of him crumbles. Someone has hurt you. Little does he know it was him who did. 
He rushes over to you and lays his arm over your back as he sits down. “What’s wrong?” 
“Nothing.” You let yourself relish in the feeling of having his protective arm around you. It might be the last time. “Go back inside.” 
“No,” Anakin replies, tilting your face toward him with a finger beneath your chin. “You’ve been crying.” 
“What an astute observation, Anakin.” 
Okay, so apparently you’re going back to the days when you hated each other. Right. Great. Why? 
“You’re… mad at me…?” Anakin thinks out loud. 
“I’m-” you stand abruptly, making you dizzy as all of the blood rushes out of your head. You wait until you can see clearly before continuing to speak. “I’m confused, Anakin! I’m angry at myself for falling for you, I’m angry at myself for being so naïve in thinking this was as real for you as it was for me. I can’t believe I was so fucking stupid-” 
Anakin stands as well. Clearly, something happened in the gymnasium. Someone said something to you. Or you saw something that wasn’t what it seemed.  “What are you talking about?”
“You and Padmé.”
“Are over,” Anakin emphasizes. 
“But…” you close your eyes, replaying the scene you saw before you. Padmé laughing, Anakin bringing her in for a hug… it was all so friendly. 
“But you saw us hug?” Anakin asks calmly. You nod. “But you didn’t hear me?” 
“No,” you reply shamefully. 
“I told her that I don’t want to get back together with her. My relationship with her was the first real one I’ve had and it taught me a lot, but it is not what I want. It’s not what I need. She is not who I want or who I need.” 
“Ani…”
Anakin shakes his head. “I’m not done. Look, I know we’re only 18 and I know we have our whole lives ahead of us but let’s not think about that. Think about right now,” Anakin grabs your hands. “This is real for me. You’re my favorite person to spend time with. I’m so fucking excited that everyone at this fucking school knows we’re together because now I can kiss you whenever I want. I can push you up against the lockers and make out with you until we get yelled at by Mr. Windu.” 
That makes you giggle. You can totally hear Mr. Windu telling you to get off of each other before he gives you both detention. 
“I don’t have to be so fucking sneaky with putting notes in your locker. You can wear my Varsity jacket at games. We can actually go out to a restaurant and go on a date. Don’t give up on us, baby. We’ve only just begun.” 
It’s not a proclamation of love or anything, but it’s enough. Everyone wants Anakin Skywalker and that seems to be your crime. You stole him before anyone else had the chance. 
Tumblr media
remember to reblog and leave comments to support authors!
◂ series masterlist ▸ anakin masterlist
255 notes · View notes
elles-home · 4 months ago
Text
hey it’s one day since i read one piece chapter 1124 and im still thinking of luffy crying over not being able to save vegapunk. because like, if we’re being serious, luffy had lost two of his brothers, one when he was way too tiny (and ended up not having lost at all) but another who he tried so, so hard to save and ended up failing. and like, ace didn’t even ask to be saved, you know? luffy wanted to, because that’s his brother, and that’s what you do for your brothers.
and then, throughout the series, you see how luffy looks at death. he sees it as inevitable. especially in alabasta, when vivi talks about how she wants to save the country and take down crocodile, but without killing anyone on either side, he calls wishes idealistic and impossible. people die, but we should try to do achieve our goals anyway. you don’t have to carry this burden alone (i am not rereading alabasta rn to cite accurately)
and then, back to the whole series again. they always succeed in their goals, they cause immense property destruction sure, but most of the time they don’t kill people. at least, luffy doesn’t. and one piece rarely focuses on death of the local armies, and we are more or less lead to believe they don’t die (except for marineford). the only other arcs with deaths shown indubitably (not counting flashbacks) were in punk hazard, when law kills dofflamingo’s underlyings , in whole cake island, when big mom ate one of her kids, and wano, when people from the akazaya nine passed away, in addition to orochi and then big mom and kaido (i like to think they died. but you know, this is one piece. so i’m always skeptical of deaths in the series)
and so now back to egghead. they are off the high of defeating two emperors of the sea, luffy is declared an emperor, and they meet a guy that requests them to save him. and luffy promises, and luffy always keeps his promises. and they tried. they tried so hard, they really, really did. but they failed to save the human body, and this upset luffy so much.
because luffy loves. he loves and cares for the people he meets and these guys offered them food and told robin her long lost friend was alive and so many things happened and they tried, they really really tried, but luffy failed to save vegapunk’s human body and this isn’t the kind of failure he hasn’t had to deal with since ace passing away two years ago and suddenly it doesn’t matter how strong he is, he couldn’t even save one old man. so he’s devastated. he’s crying. he’s eating only grapes, and slowly too (nevermind they’re from elbaph and huge).
and zoro’s comment on luffy, i think it’s more like, at this point in the game, we should be aware that death is inevitable. i think he thinks luffy should accept that. he’s obviously not saying it to luffy though, he’s letting the boy grieve. but when luffy realises lilith is alive and that means so is vegapunk, he’s happy again. and the crew tells zoro luffy is good again too.
i don’t know where i was going with this. i just have really big feelings about luffy all the time.
50 notes · View notes
asideofchaos · 11 months ago
Text
I’m still a bit stressed out from some drama happening in another fandom, so I decided to write up some more II headcanons to help me relax.
MePhone made both of the Idiotic Islands, and was originally going to send the season 3 eliminaties to them, until Walkie-Talkie and Indefinite Island happened.
Paintbrush once chased Cherries though the entire hotel after they poured glitter into their bristles. Luckily, Hotel OJ had 50 or so fire extinguishers on hand.
Clover is the unofficial therapist of Hotel OJ. She kinda just became it when people started going to her to rant about their problems.
Yin-Yang is an avid rhythm game fan, and they’re among the few things that Yin and Yang can agree on.
Among the glass contestants, Salt and Pepper are extremely sturdy. They claim it’s because of how much they take care of themselves.
After learning about Bot’s fear of anything with 8 legs, Cherries used an old delivery box to hide under and scare them out of their room for almost an entire day.
The Shimmers want to reunite the Egg with Fan and Test Tube so they can get a proper goodbye, but are waiting for Cobs to dealt with first.
Tea Kettle hosts a weekly picnic. It was originally just for The Sinkers, but then The Loony Balloonies and The Armless “Alliance” were allowed, then friends/family of them, and then basically anyone could come.
Lightbulb has the ability to short-circuit the hotel, she hasn’t yet, but she can.
Fan and Yin-Yang both love The Evililous Chronicles, with Yin-Yang having been the one to introduce Fan to it because they thought that he would enjoy the lore aspects to it. (If Miku and Vocaloid exists in II, then a series important to Vocaloid history likely does too.)
While it’s rare, Hotel OJ will occasionally have a karaoke night. It almost never goes well, but most of the contestants have fun anyways.
OJ loses his voice almost every-other month thanks to having to care for the hotel so much. Paper usually has to force him to take a break whenever this happens.
Test Tube has changed the password and has fixed the entrance to her lab, but still gets many people who somehow find their way down there and she is on the verge of just giving up on keeping people out of it because almost everyone knows at this point.
Cheesy collects joke books, he even has a small shelf in his room for them. He can strike fear into any contestant’s heart just by pulling one out, because now the next half hour will be nothing but horrible jokes.
72 notes · View notes
girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 5 months ago
Text
tuesday again 8/6/2024
people mad at a video game for being woke, i'm mad at it for not being woke enough. so it goes.
also i wrote a yeehawgust fic
listening
another addition to the "SOMEBODY COME FUCK THIS (GAY)" playlist, thank u charli xcx and billie eilish
-
reading
im still really annoyed with Retraction Watch for platforming a terf last year and then not doing any sort of sockpuppet damage control in the comments. since they got acquired by crossref they've done way less guest editorials. not to be all "stick to sports!" but stick to sports, retraction watch.
they did introduce me to this substack series i will be following with great interest about the rise and fall of hindawi. wiley acquired a paper mill a few years back, bc they seemingly did zero diligence, and then blithely ignored the problem for two years before being forced to do the single largest retraction of papers in scientific publishing history, somewhere above ten thousand articles because it is STILL ONGOING.
i do love following various retractions bc i like seeing what finally made someone go "wait a minute", and, as i have just written in a cover letter, "I studied astronomy and have held several data jobs because I’m fascinated with how and why systems work and fail..."
-
watching
my best friend has decided while i'm at her home in the evenings eating her food and bothering her children (for my mental health, it is very important i am fed tiny bits of mushed up banana by hand by her one-year-old), our new project is watching all the xmen movies. i have no particular desire to do this or special affinity for the xmen, and i would like to keep eating very good texmex and bothering her children (for my mental health, it is very important i play hot wheels with the five-year-old). this sounds so super bitchy of me but it's hard to convey that these are essentially on for background noise.
saw the first two. the two things i know about them are that hugh jackman is in them and they're at the statue of liberty in one
Tumblr media
-
playing
Tumblr media
an ideologically baffling little environmental game free in the epic store this week, LumberJack. this is on PC and Switch for $13, which is far more money than the playtime anyone can get out of this game. tiny tiny tiny little Spain-headquartered studio without an active website, it looks like one guy hired out to make this and two more games and then went back to single-dev projects. i can respect that!
steam reviewers are mad at this game for being woke, and i'm mad at it for being woke in a very strange way. your one mechanic, as a bear, is swinging a big axe to remove cars and trailer offices and portapotties and various garbage from the landscape.
i wish the movement and look controls are inverted, and i wish they weren't, or at least had an option to make them normal. i know Why this isn't a mobile game (can't monetize something with twoish hours of gameplay and twenty levels) but it's a very straightforward and simple game that would translate very well to mobile. much like donut county.
now for being picky about the political mindset of the developers: as much fun as it is to be a bear swinging an axe around, lumberjacks are not the people i associate with wild preservation movements.
Tumblr media
saving the land and turning it back into pristine and perfect land for wild animals in this game looks like erasing every hint of human activity from a site and turning it into sheer recreational use. many levels are heavily polluted, but some can definitely be read as recycling centers. im confused by the erasing every hint of humans in early levels, and then this level where you break down a radio station, slap the host with your axe, and she turns into a park ranger who starts gardening and taking care of chickens?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
i don't think that removing all the traces of people from the landscape will magically fix everything, nor do i think simply being in unspoiled wilderness will magically fix me.
Tumblr media
there's a golfing level where you whack bombs into various small buildings. i think golfing to save the environment is a strange choice to make for designing a game.
Tumblr media
i also briefly thought this bird in every level was an extinct ivory-billed woodpecker, which was a little alarming bc there are some real nutjobs out there with very strong beliefs about this bird and government overreach and how much the government is lying to you about the extinctness of various animals.
i stopped playing about halfway through bc i was not having fun and found the underlying environmental message a little confused. they've managed to sell at least 10k units which is...not very good. i am not surprised this is free on epic, and i wonder what their payout for that was. would not be surprised if they negotiated a payment to their nonprofit partner ecologi as part of that.
-
making
yeehawgust fill! i have another bitchy blond babygirl!
Tumblr media
what the fuck is the prisoner? cult 60s british spy tv. with all the surreality and anxieties about the cold war and midcentury psychological horror you could possibly want
Tumblr media
He’d been drugged enough times to recognize the splitting migraine rapidly galloping down his neurons. “Where am I?” He fought down the taste of bile (ketamine? xylazine, by the aftertaste) and the rising panic. Oddly enough, the migraine was always worse with veterinary sedatives. One would think a mind would adapt to nearly three hundred years of irregular drugging and constant experiments. One’s body had adapted and ghoulified, but in equally unhelpful ways. The tycoon flickered, approximating an appraising blink. “This meeting has been a long time coming, hasn't it? You've come a long ways, literally and, I suspect, figuratively as well. You’re in the Free Economic Zone of New Vegas.” They’d pretended the prisons were so many different places: across the Continent, in various parts of London, up and down and all around the East Coast of these wretched States. Rarely this far west, aside from the awful escapade in the faux pre-War Western town. “What do you want?” He managed to swing his ankles off the saddle (also pre-War? Heavily used. It certainly wasn’t his, the equestrian event had always been his worst event in the pentathalon) and jolted what felt like every half-dead nerve in his half-dead body.
26 notes · View notes
milky-rozen · 8 days ago
Note
Hello 🤗, I’ve kind been following your project for months now and I have to say I’m glad people are still acknowledging Egyptian Mythology. I know it doesn’t really have all the drama and pizzaz I suppose Greek or Roman mythos does which is why people like it more, however I find your work refreshing because it seems like you actually care about Egyptian Mythos. I’ve been obsessed with it for years and I’ve even done my own research over the years myself and could never fully understood why people didn’t care for it as much. Even after watching Hollywood Blockbuster films like “Gods of Egypt” the movie frustrated me in so many ways but the biggest one being that it felt like a knockoff of Clash of the Titans. So I’m done with my little rant but I was curious on what sparked your interest in making this project? How often are you taking creative liberties with your story? Also how do you come up with such creative designs for your characters will also keeping the historical consistency of Ancient Egypt?
P.S. Hope this all made sense 😀
Heya!
So, first of all, thank you so much for your kind words, they really made my day!
Second of all, let me reply to all of your questions in order so I don't forget anything lol
Ok so, as for what sparked my interest in making this project, It all started with me playing a mythology-themed video game called Dislyte. I've always been into Egyptian Mythology since I can remember, but when I was a kid, things were a bit different from now and I didn't have access to the Internet as I have now as my father would set up a limited screen time for me and my sister on the computer, and also at that time, I just didn't know how to research things properly lol. So, nostalgia led me to explore new and old media about Egyptian mythology and do some proper academic research to get to know the main and minor myths better. During this "research phase" I discovered the Korean manhwa Ennead, which inspired me and my character designs a lot. Afterwards, as I realized how little material exists about this mythology in particular, I decided to create something myself that could help fill that gap, something that could bring people together and spark their interest so that I could have someone to talk to about Egyptian Mythology lmaooo. But also, I always wanted to work on an original comic series and so I thought that this could have been the best time to start! And so, House of the Sun was born!
Now, talking about artistic liberty, it really depends on the comic we're talking about. In Thoth's Library, I try to be as accurate as possible to the actual myths, only taking some artistic liberty when I need to link some facts that would otherwise sound a bit random and incohesive to the narration, adding some motivations and sub-plots to link all the stories together while trying to stay true to the original sources. Although, this might change in some future arcs. In Young Horus, although some connections are accurate, I decided to fill all the gaps I could with an original coming-of-age story for Horus the Younger to create something new and have fun with it, so the majority of the things happening in the comic are purely fictional. Of course, I always make sure to put a disclaimer for that in every episode just in case ahahah
As for the inspiration behind the character designs, I wanted to create something very personal and somewhat accurate in terms of clothing and overall presentation without including those classic elements we all know, like the animal heads or masks we often see in other media. I was especially inspired by something I noticed in Ancient Egyptian art, like the fact that some gods like Ra have both a human and animal form, and so I was like, you know what? I'm leaving the animal iconography to other contexts, I'm going full human this time lmao. Well, kind of, since I still wanted to include some animal traits that are very iconic to Egyptian art, like the tails (often used in classic Egyptian iconography to depict power and royalty), the ears and sometimes the paws too because, why not? 😂
Man, this was a very long reply lol I tried to be as brief as possible but I'm not good at it honestly ahah soooo, thanks for sticking with me so far! 😂 and, oh! Before I forget , Happy New Year!
14 notes · View notes
insertdisc5 · 2 years ago
Text
Devlog #14: Big News Incoming and Illustrations
Tumblr media
Hello everyone! Welcome to this month’s devlog!
If you just stumbled upon this, I am Adrienne, also known as insertdisc5! I’m the developer, writer, artist, main programmer, etc of the game. The game being In Stars and Time, a timeloop RPG, which is also the next and final game in the START AGAIN series, following START AGAIN: a prologue (available here!).  You can find out more about In Stars and Time here!!! 
LET’S GET TO IT. This month has some Big News about Big News Incoming! And also some illustrations!
Tumblr media
The Big News Incoming first: In Stars and Time will be a part of Future of Play Direct on June 10, 8:00am PT | 11:00am ET | 5:00 pm CET! Future of Play is part of the Summer Games Fest and showcases a lot of incredible indie games, so I hope you’ll tune in. There might be a little something for you to see :> And...
In Stars and Time will also be a part of The Mix on June 8th! The Mix is an amazing games showcase over in LA. There will be a lot of press there, so I’m very excited to get some eyes on ISAT! Please stop by the booth and say hi to the lovely people from my publisher, Armor Games Studios, if you get the chance!
Alright! That’s it for the big news. Now for other big news.
Porting the game to Switch seems to be close to done! Currently, the porting team is taking care of optimization thingy things. The game is playable, but tends to drop frames every so often, so the team is optimizing the game to make sure it’s playing smoothly so Switch players can have the best possible experience! And…
The (hopefully) final round of Japanese localization is underway! Last April, the localization team sent back a couple of sentences that should be reworded now that they have further context. Now that those changes are implemented, they are playing it one more time to make sure everything works as intended!
I sadly don’t have a Fun Gamedev Thing to talk about this month (or… last month either…) because I moved elsewhere back in April and have been taking care of many things so my move went smoothly. Did you know that moving and getting used to a new town is hard work? So, here’s some things I posted on social media in the last couple months!
Tumblr media
Here’s an illustration I drew a while back but only posted recently! I imagine that during their journey, everyone must’ve shared a bed at least once. This is also an occasion to show everyone’s sleepytimes clothes. Siffrin on that honk shoo honk shoo fit
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Like many people, I have seen the Barbie movie trailer. So of course I had to redraw these iconic frames.
And someone over on Tumblr asked me about how I picked everyone’s names! Here it is copy-pasted for your convenience.
Siffrin: i think. i will wait until the game comes out before saying how i picked their name. ask me again later (it’s not a spoiler its just silly)
Mirabelle: her name was actually Prunille for the longest time, but I kept mixing it up and calling her Bonnie… so I went looking for another fruit sounding name (prunille>prune>plum in french) and Mirabelle fit her perfectly :> (Mirabelle is a kind of plum!)
Isabeau: it’s just a nice name. It actually is a girl name but i refuse to accept it because “beau” is the masculine form for “beautiful”, but either way it fits his character pretty well…
Odile: old sounding french name. that’s it. when i was early in preproduction her name was Isabeau actually (and she had a WAY different personality)
Bonnie: it’s a nickname and not their full name. have i said their full name yet? (checks the wiki) i did. Boniface is just a name that I had never heard before, and I could easily imagine Bonnie not liking it because it sounds “old and lame”. i think as they get older they would like it more and more
This is also a reminder that In Stars and Time has a wiki page. I am so grateful that this is a thing someone made. You know you've made it when your game has a wiki page!!!
That’s all I have to say for today! Let me know if you have any questions, or if there’s any aspect of the game development struggle you’d like me to talk about! See you next time!!!
AND DON’T FORGET TO WISHLIST THE GAME ON STEAM ALSO IT REALLY HELPS BECAUSE STEAM’S ALGORITHM IS MORE LIKELY TO SHOW OFF GAMES WITH A HIGH AMOUNT OF WISHLISTS THAT’S THE REASON WHY GAME DEVS ALWAYS ASK TO WISHLIST!!! OKAY BYE!!!!
189 notes · View notes
on-my-vigilante-sht · 1 year ago
Text
i’m currently re-reading the hunger games for the first time since literally middle school and i have so many thoughts.
a. haymitch is so much worse of a drinker in the books like i forgot how genuinely incoherent and essentially useless he is at first
b. i forgot how young katniss is. i feel like it’s hard to keep in mind that she’s 16 in the movies and still a child throughout the series and i find it so heartbreaking that someone so young is forced into providing for her family, fighting to the death, leading a rebellion, etc. it could also be the fact that i’m older than her character now and i’m looking back and realizing how immature 16 year olds are as opposed to when i was like 11 and thought they were basically adults.
c. omg my heart breaks for everyone in the series. the only stand out characters i can really think of who i don’t have any sympathy for are seneca crane, snow, and coin. like the lesser-regarded deaths are the careers’ (that is everyone sympathizes with thresh, rue, reaper, jessup, basically everyone in tbosbas but people are less inclined to sympathize with the careers). i find their deaths so tragic because they thought they were going to go home. clove and cato wanted to go home together just like katniss and peeta did.
d. one of my favorite additions to the movie is thresh’s almost brotherly relationship with rue. because in the books katniss mentions that he never really even took an interest in his district partner (rue obv; but ofc she only saw them at training so we don’t really know) but in the movies, when rue steals that knife, thresh looks at her like proudly and omg my heart. like obviously thresh cared about rue because he killed clove and spared katniss but that small addition makes me smile every time. and because he was such a good person his death kills me. reaper too. they both cared so much and were much better people than the capitol. district 11 were raising their children right.
e. my heart breaks for peeta in particular. he is such a good fucking person and i feel like no one returns it in the way he deserves. he gives and gives and gives to his family but it seems like they give absolutely nothing in return. like his mom having no faith in him and then (if i remember correctly) they don’t even come to live with him in victors’ village
f. i’ve ranted about this before and this doesn’t pertain to og hunger games + i’m referencing the movies but i hate the ending of mockingjay. when katniss is screaming at buttercup that prim is gone? omg the anguish i feel for katniss. she lost everything. the fact that she just lives right next to the decimated remains of her former district? what? like yes she has peeta and they have kids but it feels very “last two people on earth” to me and that seems like such a tragic life.
g. this is such an unjust, unfair, cruel series but it’s so good
74 notes · View notes
rxttenfish · 8 months ago
Note
Asking because I’m extremely curious about this, how did MonProm’s writing get different over time? I remember you saying that the lore and characters feel different, and that it's missing sincere character interactions, too. I know almost nothing about the lore and I’ve only seen a few people mention the characters, so I’d be interested in a rundown of what aspects you think got worse in the series
I wouldn’t mind a very long response since I’m not that active in the fandom, I need to catch up on what happened
sorry for taking so long to answer this! i kinda waffled on it for a long bit, mainly because i started doubting myself again, and whether or not this was me simply overreacting or being tinted by nostalgia or simply being extremely picky and choosy in what i like (the last of which is true, i seldom get into fandoms at all for this reason and stay away from most popular media, but i wasn't sure if it applied here). i've posted about it already, but i'm in the middle of a psychotic episode where i can't feel a lot of pleasure to begin with + most things i do experience ending up solidly in the "very bad" category, so as you can imagine, i really didn't want to mislead and check that i was actually in objective reality.
as it is, this is also when a lot more screenshots started to be posted in the monster prom tag, and that helped me bridge the gap back into returning to the games themselves and feel like i was making a more accurate judgement. if you're one of those people who have been posting screenshots, i sincerely thank you, and i appreciated seeing you in the tag greatly.
for those not in the know — i've been in the monster prom fandom since it first released, prior to even the first additional ending to be added (the "Punch the sun" ending, and i recall the minor fandom drama that happened at that time due to it). my impression of monster prom is very much influenced by this, as what got me into the first game was the fact that the characters genuinely seemed to care for each other and were friends with each other (not merely tolerating each other's presences nor dressing it up, they sincerely thought of each other as friends and were open about that fact), on top of the wide variety of small details and statements that, if taken at face value, could create compounding complexity in the lives of each and every character and had wider implications for their lives.
no, they were not necessarily explored nor even necessarily "real", with so many conflicting events and statements, but i liked this too, because it meant a wider flexibility in what you could imagine, helping to create a more tailored experience for everyone who thought about these characters. this was what i liked about the early fandom too. what was baseline "canon" was so vague and minimal that you could have wildly different interpretations of the same characters' histories and relationships with each other. you would have radically different perspectives on what the world itself looked like, what it was like, that there wasn't really any wrong answers so long as their personalities remained the same. this is where you got the old headcanon of polly and liam being childhood friends who knew each other as humans, or that the world of monster prom was post-apocalypse where humanity itself had gone extinct or only existed in tiny pockets, or my personal headcanon that both monster and human society existed right next to each other and had minimal crossover for petty cultural reasons. this was also prior zoe-as-ro, and there were wildly different interpretations of zoe's personality, with most going for a far more disquieting creepy-cute than the deep nerd we got.
this is why you get stuff like the timeloop theory, where everyone is repeating the same weeks leading up to prom over and over, and are perhaps vaguely aware of it but broadly unconcerned. this is also why it felt like the joke that, the characters were still in high school but were all fully legal adults with most in their 20's, best landed, because it was absurd and strange and didn't quite make sense, but the world itself was inherently absurd and semi-malleable to begin with. realistically, i felt like everyone understood it was making fun of the trope of having adults play teenagers in american sitcoms and wildly casting outside the age range, but for more in-universe explanations it wasn't any different from the way that you would have a large, dramatic ending in which everything changed, but then you'd restart and everyone would be right back at the beginning with nothing different, or even having conflicting events in the same run. it was a dream-logic that fit with the tropes and, thus, diagetically made sense.
to be clear, i don't mind canon having a set, well, canon on which it refers back to itself. i don't mind expanding that or including more things which are set in stone. but there was a perceivable shift in how the games handled this over time, becoming a lot more... bitter, it felt, towards all of these different branching ideas and concepts that, yeah, the people making them knew wouldn't necessarily be "canon" because "canon" already liked to contradict itself so much. most people weren't even sold on any one idea, and there was a much greater sense of enjoying and appreciating all the varying ideas people would come up with even if you personally didn't share them. making the characters be out of character was the real crime, because then it didn't diagetically make sense in the same way, didn't wholly fit.
(again, this is not to say fanon didn't happen and characters weren't smoothed down into a simplified personality that fit these varying fan-interpretations instead of the game itself. certainly damien love/lust was just as bad as it had ever been, and everyone loved to mangle his character into a more stereotypical "bad boy with a heart of hold" all the time. but it certainly felt less set-in-stone about it than it does now, with any deviation from the norm being considered strange and odd and even broadly shunned from the wider fandom.)
all of this is setup for establishing what the writing, lore, and characters felt like in the earlier days. the characters were the strongest part, with their relationships to each other being equally as important. the lore played it fast and loose and was far less interested in setting anything in concrete because that wasn't the important part. the lore wasn't the important part, which was what made it all the more intoxicating to think about, all the more fun to play with.
montrip is easily the biggest offender when it comes to setting everything in all-or-nothing terms and demanding absolutism from the world. broadly i blame the hitchhiker conversations for the worst of it, but i think ultimately the way they handled the entire premise of the game is where this problem stems from. it's not really an exploration in the same sense that you might explore the first game, discovering different perspectives and different people with different relationships to each other. it's an exploration in the sense of a sequel that over-explains the monster, that takes the most boring option out of all those that were possible and floating around and settles on something that was blatant, obvious, typically rejected not because of how novel it is but how trite and par for the course it is in the rest of the genre.
yeah, okay. humans know nothing about monsters and there's a "monster dimension" that exists separately from the human dimension. there's no crossover between the two of them. of course there's a big grand-scale fight between the eldritch powers that zoe used to be a part of, from which not only are slayers the main organization against them, but also the merkingdom has some horse in this race too. it's an urge to make things so universal in explaining them, in revealing connecting threads which unite everything that's ever happened in here, that makes the worldbuilding and lore immediately much more boring than it ever was before.
and it didn't have to be this way! nothing in the first game contradicts any of this too explicitly (see the above, the first game loves to contradict itself), and i would even be happy if this was basically canon but never stated or confirmed to be the big overarching everything going on underneath it all. i believe you should probably know these things about any world that you create and have them in the back of your mind. the difference is that you can know these things and keep them in mind, even focusing on things where its very relevant, and still not reveal them. this is why you have lore bibles, after all. every horror writer knows exactly how their monster works and the full underlying reason for everything that happens, but that doesn't mean the audience will see it or possess this same information too, and leaving it intentionally obscure will make far better stories.
which, this is bad enough, but it wouldn't be the breaking point for me if this was all there was.
but the worst thing of all has to be the slow decay of the very same characters that sold me on this world, this lore, this game in the first place. monster prom is nothing without the characters in it. it's a dating sim, it has nothing but characters to get you to play, and liking these characters are the entire reason anyone would pick up monster prom in the first place.
and the first game pulls this off extremely well. it's all in the tagline: be your worst self. they are, indeed, all terrible people. yes, even that character that you just thought of right now. they all have points in the game where they commit atrocities, where they kill or hurt people, where they do inexcusable things that could not be ignored in a more serious setting.
but that's the point. i think there's something very powerful in creating a character who not only do you love and love their personality and the way they interact with the world, but who also are inapologetically terrible, and to have the humor and the charisma be so good that you don't get bogged down in the "this is awful". likewise, it never feels the urge to really go out of its way to justify what's going on. this is not to say theres no discussion of if someone "deserved it", but usually there's still the sense that the joke is on them, that this is still an extreme reaction specifically for comedy and not necessarily something that can be justified. you can have damien set leonard on fire and have it feel earned, without prompting the needed reaction of what it's actually like to watch someone burn to death.
this is what sets the prank masterz ending apart from the rest of the game, and really establishes it as the first real "bad ending". because nothing that you do or happens in the prank masterz ending is any different from anything else that happens in any other run. you summon evil beings from other dimensions as a throwaway gag on how visiting one location raises your stats. you kill other people and damn them to terrible fates. you watch as body horror happens. the only difference is that, in the prank masterz ending, the laugh track doesn't play.
the rest of the game and the writing echoes this philosophy, this careful interplay of tropes that keeps everything tongue in cheek and yet sincere enough to make sure emotional beats still land when they're needed. the characters feel true to themselves and their own emotions, even when the world is extreme and excessive, when everything else runs on comedy logic.
this is also what i noticed failing first as time went on.
like i said, fanon has always existed and there's always been very specific ideas as to what characters are like in the same way fanon always flattens down characters into the same tropes over and over. scott is stupid and innocent and doesn't know what sex is. damien is violent and hot and too cool for anyone else. miranda is the idiot girl character. repeat over and over and over until you get sick of it.
but it's been an issue as time has crept on that canon has started to approach fanon and began to merge with it. now, scott is so innocent that he can't even curse. polly starts being mean to her friends and saying things that would be very hurtful to hear. the merkingdom isn't really super evil and fucked up, it's just miranda that's like that. they become simpler, easier to digest, streamlined for social media posts and mass-sharing. they become less and less subversions of existing tropes and moreso just another example of them, something else to add to the collection, not their own individual stories.
even further from this, what more complex traits they had are now stated and not shown. polly is stated to be smart and clever in a way that her party girl persona doesn't imply and to be sincerely rather down to earth with the people she cares about, but we seldom ever see this anymore unless its the game specifically trying to make a point about it, in which case it won't let her do anything that implies cleverness and moreso will just outline it in the narration. vera is stated to care for people in a very genuine and heartfelt way, but seldom will get a chance to do so, and every opportunity for her to do so to their faces is missed while she will just outright state it later. it does not feel consistent, it does not feel like any of these are intended reads of their actions. it feels like the devs have something they want to do but no idea on how to actually do so. and forget it if you want these traits to manifest in small ways that show up in unrelated moments and scenes.
the dialogue becomes harder and harder to tell between each speaker, if you are just looking at what's said and not at the pictures attached to it. the characters' distinct voices have been eroded away, so that they speak more and more like each other, relaying the same terms and ideas in the same words. perspective becomes a suggestion, instead of a must.
this is something that started back in monster camp too, as all of the endings in that game felt ultimately the same as every other ending. it's very hard to place or define the full reason why, why there feels like there's no emotional stakes nor investment, why everything feels moreso like selecting different coats of paint and trying to find all the different ending pictures rather than being interested in exploring the characters as characters.
stranger yet, the series that started with the tagline of "be your worst self" has experienced a kind of... softening, for lack of a better word? what i mentioned about being able to handle the balance between terrible people who do terrible things and the light tone of the game starts to change, as abruptly the same characters who were down with violent murder in the first game start to lose their nerve, acting more and more on more typical morality. it's one of those things that feels like it's starting to damage the tone, as abruptly it's not as absurd as it used to be, demands less suspension of disbelief which could buffer and support the rest of the setting on it. there's even a part in one of the endings in montrip which involves current-polly and current-scott looking back on their monprom selves and reacting in horror at how violent and careless their pranks are, in a way that fundamentally felt like it was undercutting and disparaging all the things that felt fun and made monprom what it was.
which is odd, really, because more and more i feel like the characters in these games like each other less and less. the friendships and genuine enjoyment of each others company that brought me to this game in the first place has gone. now they don't mention each other as much, don't care for each other's feelings and reactions as much, aren't as willing to support each other. they are more and more found on their own, relied on their own, seem to seek out contact and interaction with their own friends less and less. it feels like they're all separating out into their own worlds, but also feels like they wouldn't willingly want to interact with each other if they weren't already forced together by some other outside contrivance.
if anything, i'd compare it to every other dating sim out there, where you, the player, are the most important person in these characters' lives, and they only feel ambivalent or antagonistic towards every other character. which, again, is not why i picked up monster prom or why i liked it so much in the first place.
and it's because of this that it feels like the current state of the series has to focus on its increasingly weak worldbuilding and lore, trying to form a more serious foundation without character relationships being so tightly bound together, without the characters themselves being more developed and rich, without an aspect of absurd humor to rely on.
more and more i've noticed monprom has to rely on referencing other series to make itself funny and create humor, which, again, it's always done. it was just easier to ignore back then, if you didn't know what was being referenced, because there was always more going on in the exact same scene to bolster it and give context clues as to the setup and punchline at play. it feels like the current games are much more dependent on you knowing pop culture references in order to have any fun with it, and i'm someone who, again, is very picky in what i like or what i'll seek out. i'm not interested in a stream of references about other things that i would much rather be doing than playing through a game that feels like it hates that i like it at all, when i could, again, just be engaging with the thing that takes itself seriously and knows what it wants.
#all the care guide says is 'biomass'#monster prom#asks#vanillabeenflower#this is. so long i am so sorry.#and its still not my entire thoughts because i have so many thoughts#this is an unedited ramble tbh and im very sorry for that#i have more complaints like#how fucking snide and condescending the narration is to its own characters#which it already had but gets even worse in the later games#which is why despite loving aaravi i dont want to play moncamp at all#where a character says they like something or feel something and the narration has to be so. sarcastic about it?#like how i mentioned about how it feels like how its looking down on them as people#instead of whats probably the intended read which is#more jokingly calling them dumb in an affectionate way like how you might do with friends#and ofc theres the whole miranda rant#i hate what theyve done with the merkingdom and i HATE adrien as a concept i wont lie#just. cool. this female character is too stupid to count as a lore character. we obviously need a MALE character to fill in instead#we cant just have miranda talk about this or center any of the other female characters#and how they feel about this and whats going on for them#no we need to make up a new man to talk to instead#im. im still really bitter about it i wont lie.#like i said i could go on and get way more specific about it#i just feel like any and all emotional weight to this has died and the characters are more and more obviously actors on a stage#for your own self gratification rather than their own people living their own lives#this is so bitter and i really shouldnt put this in the main tag#i am so sorry everyone who will see my rant. but my peace must be made.#dont worry im already asking myself if im just making all this shit up myself#what if some of us liked that the characters were so mean to the player and had no qualms about aggressively rejecting us#because it gave some illusion of them being able to make their own choices and decisions in what they wanted
31 notes · View notes
jazziejax · 2 years ago
Text
Beloved Arachnid
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Being raised by your grandparents was basically like growing up alone. Especially in such a capitalistic city where they were only focused on making the rich stay rich and the poor get poorer. Where the people that were supposed to love you only focused on how much further they could climb the social ladder and gain more. And Honey was tired of conforming to a life she did not enjoy.
And since she had no one there for her when she needed it, she made it her mission to be there for all. Animals, children, old people, she took on a lot of responsibility in hopes of making the people around her, better.
All of the inner city people knew who Honey was. Brooklyn, Harlem, Bronx, and Queens. She helped kids study, played games with them, helped elders run errands and helped out at local shelters and food drives. She even opened her own organization to look after children when their parents were at work. She was loved immensely by lots of people and her beauty was just a bonus.
And the love she received from those communities almost made up for the love that was absent in her home. Almost.
Because when she went home, she had to deal with the constant nitpicking from her grandmother about her academic achievements, her talents, her looks. And her grandfather was never there since he was always working for the next evolutionary breakthrough in science. So when she couldn’t do what she loved, taking care of those in need, she placed her focus elsewhere.
At the top of her grandparents penthouse, was an old greenhouse full of dead plants. That’s where she spent lots of her time trying to revive the tattered, see-though dome into a colorful place full of plant life. And with a little elbow grease, a random cat and her family’s money, she turned the place into a home away from home. A home away from home, where she got bitten by a radioactive spider and developed powers overnight.
And with this new power, she took her caring nature to a whole new level and became the city’s one and only Spider person. Thats not true. New York already had a spider vigilante by the named Scarlet-Web. So Honey just stuck to her regular duties with helping those communities in need on a deeper level.
She grew older, helping fight crime every now and then. Everything was as normal as it could be in her life. As normal as it could be considering she was the heir to millions of dollars and forced to go to school to become a scientist. So, yeah, pretty normal.
Normal until a group people walked through a portal and told her she was a royal alien.
Tumblr media
Note- I’m gonna be writing this over here and over on Wattpad! Tgis is the prologue of my series Beloved Arachnid!!! I’ve been seeing so many spider verse fics and some are good but I need more ‘x black reader’ fics because Black Girls need love too! This is a rough draft because I don’t really know what kind of a direction I want to go in yet but…yeah.
120 notes · View notes
skeletonpunching · 2 years ago
Text
Buddy Daddies Comic Natalie interview with Toyonaga Toshiyuki and Uchiyama Koki
[Translator’s note: This interview accompanies a special feature where Toyonaga and Uchiyama make French toast together and play various games. I’m just translating the interview for now, because it’s relevant to upcoming episodes.]
Interviewer: Good work on the filming! How do you feel, looking back on all that now?
Toyonaga Toshiyuki: Uchiyama-san said that he wasn't feeling confident, but in the end... I think he sure came through with something that was up to par. How about you?
Uchiyama Koki: (laughs)
Toyonaga: Really, getting to see Uchiyama-san's smile is the most important thing, isn't it?
Uchiyama: (interrupting) Can you not? That'll come across really differently in print!
Toyonaga: But seriously, we had a blast filming together!
Uchiyama: This recording session really was jam-packed with content... But I think the video will turn out to be very much worth a watch. I usually don't cook at all, so I'm thankful to everyone that I've been able to have this valuable experience.
Interviewer: We'll be looking forward to the programme broadcast, to see how the French toast that both of you made actually turned out. But if you each had to rate your own performance, how many points would you give?
Toyonaga: Well, people who are old hands at cooking probably wouldn't be able to stand the sight of it, but... I think this is about as much as you can expect from beginners! Both of us get ten out of ten - full marks. I mean, look at these people who can't cook doing their best!
Uchiyama: I managed to cook something that made full use of the ingredients. I deserve 120 points for that alone.
Toyonaga: (laughs)
Interviewer: The anime broadcast has reached the point where Kazuki and Rei show up to cheer for Miri at her sports day. Of the episodes that have aired so far, which have you found the most memorable?
Toyonaga: When it comes to Kazuki, I think episode 7, which depicted his past, was a pivotal point. He made the choice not to cut ties with his past, but to accept it; that moment when he started walking down this new path was very impactful. And then next, episode 8 portrayed Rei's past. After the details of Kazuki and Rei's backstories were revealed, watching episode 9, which built on those things, really packed a punch. The two of them have both been through a lot of pain related to their families, so them getting to participate in sports day as fathers is just a sublime turn of events.
Uchiyama: I agree. The sports day episode was incredibly memorable for me. Especially the scene where Rei unconsciously raises his voice to cheer for Miri. Rei is usually so cool-headed, I could never have imagined that from him. But he's accumulated so much through living together with Miri, and I think that scene is where it all reaches a payoff. During the recording sessions, I was very aware that there were certain scenes which are meant to make you sense how Rei has changed.
Interviewer: Kazuki and Rei are buddy assassins, but once Miri shows up, we see them struggling to take on the role of fathers. There are many scenes where we see the two of them developing as guardians, but from your perspectives as performers, are there any scenes which truly made you feel how the character you play has grown?
Toyonaga: I think there are lots of ways Rei has grown, but as for Kazuki - rather than him having changed, I'd say he used to think "if I had a child, here's what I'd love to do", and now he's actually able to make those things happen. As he interacts with Miri-chan, she's drawing out all those feelings he originally had. And so Kazuki, who used to face the past with a mindset of atonement, has now switched to thinking, "It's fine to live happily in the present." I think that's his greatest change. Yes, there's always that potential retort of, "But you're an assassin, aren't you?" But this series is very careful to show that, before he's an assassin, he's a human being, first and foremost. I keep that in mind during my performance.
Interviewer: Kazuki and Rei have both been very much affected by their "daughter" Miri. Uchiyama-san, how about Rei?
Uchiyama: Rei wasn't too keen on living together with Miri in the first place, but if Kazuki wanted to look after Miri, he wouldn't really give a firm refusal. And then once he was actually living with Miri, he found himself moved by all of her mannerisms and gestures. When Miri was about to be taken away by the police, in order to bring her back, he declared, "I am her papa." And as Rei kept living like this, softer feelings started to grow steadily within him, and his emotional state began to change. When recording the early episodes, the director told me, "Even when Miri and Kazuki are having a lively conversation, Rei shouldn't get too caught up in the spirit of things." I think Rei's gradual development is crucial to the story.
Interviewer: Now that the finale is just round the corner, the story is wrapping up at last. "Buddy Daddies" is an original anime, so the viewers have no way to predict how it'll all end - could the two of you please tell us what we should be watching out for?
Toyonaga: Actually, the director told me, "Episode 9 is the last fluffy episode. So please put everything else out of your mind, and focus on depicting the close relationship between Kazuki, Rei, and Miri-chan."
Interviewer: W-what...!
Toyonaga: Yeah. And with three episodes left to the finale, the parts that everyone has been harping on until now - saying "no, no, that's not how it would happen!" - are suddenly taking on a whole new degree of realism. The audiences have some major shocks coming their way, and there are plenty of developments which make you go, "They're really going there...!" You're going to be confronted with the fact that Kazuki and Rei are assassins after all. But the reason why these realistic elements can play out is precisely because of the happy life they've established with Miri so far. I hope you can brace yourselves for it, so to speak. I'm sure there are people who've come up with all sorts of predictions, but you should probably consider how those predictions might actually turn out!
Uchiyama: Wow, you said it all!
Toyonaga: (laughs)
Uchiyama: Since it's an original anime, we recorded every episode with no idea how it would all conclude either. There are serious plot developments as we approach the finale, and I was quite surprised. So I'm curious how audiences will take it. I'm looking forward to everyone's reactions. Please be sure to watch till the very end.
224 notes · View notes