#so I am only going on the background ones

[britcision]

(Full disclosure, am not caught up yet but getting there)

Okay so what I’m seeing here and what I Need in my Soul is Mel and Viktor exchanging fashion tips in the background and commiserating over their mutual boyfriend 👀

(They have So Much boyfriend-in-law/girlfriend-in-law energy I don’t recall them ever having like. A direct conversation? But when Jayce talks about one to the other they both go “ah yes my partner-in-law”)

Just. The little nod. Her colours, her sashay. Viktor was a sassy lil strutter from the first time he came to help arrest Jay’s ass his hips don’t lie but now that he’s de-caned he walks like Her because she’s hot shit too and game recognises game

Cuz this whole interpersonal politics thing is very much also Mel’s arena. Viktor’s very much on the tech side, on trying to spark Jayce’s scientific curiosity and how they can improve hex-tech to help people

Mel’s the one teaching Jayce the political side and how to shmooze and not get assassinated 5 seconds in, she’s the people skills, the persuasive one, and Viktor’s aware at this stage that just the potential of the tech won’t win Jayce over

He needs to be persuasive and win him over, and he knows who’s good at that

Whether it’s petty or in earnest, it’s a mark of respect - when he wants to be smooth and charming, there’s only one person in his head and honestly together they would be unstoppable

So funny Viktor chooses to present himself to Jayce as a white-golden robot (considering it is shown he could possess one of his followers) despite his representative colors being purple and blue (during s2 arc 1 and arc 2 and as the Herald Machine). But for the very specific purpose of convincing Jayce to join him, he's represented in the colors associated with Mel. Literally CATWALKING into the room, which is an action associated with Mel too

[bringthekaos]

Alrighty, here we go. Act III.

Mostly Jayce and Viktor centric, but with some wider thoughts as a whole thrown in. As usual, this is all my opinion, you’re free to disagree with me. Just don’t be a dick.

I am torn. I’m appreciative of the visuals and the JayVik crumbs (even though Christian Linke’s comments post-show have soured it to queerbait for me). But mostly I am disappointed. And I so badly didn’t want to be. I had such high hopes (and that’s probably my fault. I expected too much). They completely massacred Viktor’s character. There was such beautiful setup in season one of his background as a Zaunite living in Piltover. So much of his lived experience came from that—the oppression, the inequality, the xenophobia, the inaccessibility. It formed his opinions and his values, and that’s why he was so adamantly anti-weapon making. That’s why his number one goal was always to help the people in need down in Zaun. They showed us that he was a tinkerer and a builder, that he valued the ingenuity in machinery. They gave us that cute little boat from his childhood and the fucking Hexclaw.

Viktor was supposed to be a Zaunite champion. He was supposed to embrace Techmaturgy as a direct opposition to magic/Hextech. He was supposed to undergo his transformation into the Machine Herald of his own volition, with his own agency and bodily autonomy (yes I know it also stemmed from severe depression and one could argue that it messed with his decision-making, but still… he did that shit on his own). And there were so many opportunities to go this route in Arcane, and it would have worked!! If Viktor augmented his hand and his leg, but it cost Sky her life, he could realize the cost of magic, and turn to Tech. He could have been exiled back to Zaun, where he was supposed to be, and then the shitshow really could have unfolded—having one of Hextech’s creators now working for the other side.

And I know they had to change it so that he could be a bigger part of the overall narrative, as his original lore was rather disconnected. But there were much cleaner ways to go about it than disrespecting his entire character arc by turning him into a grimdark edgelord ethereal magic Jesus who no longer notices or even seems to care about the oppression and class warfare going on in his birthplace. Like. I’m sorry, him “curing” Salo? OG Viktor would have taken one look at a representative of the very oppression he stood against and blown him to kingdom come. (And yes, I also realize that he did it in Arcane because he was “under the influence” of the Hexcore, which only wanted to “infect more people.” But that’s another problem I have. This was never really made all that clear. And watching him go from “we will not be building weapons, that’s not why we invented Hextech/there is always a choice/we were meant to improve lives, not to take them” to making him turn human beings into weapons?? I don’t care that they tried to salvage his character by suggesting he wasn’t in control, it still undermines everything about him. And GOD, original League Vik had so much DEPTH. He was a hypocrite, he was still partly human and so he retained pieces/parts of all the things he preached against, which made him a wonderful contradiction. And he had a sense of humor and whimsy too! He enjoyed sweet milk, he cracked dry jokes and was sarcastic as fuck. He had a personality! And now he’s just… empty space man blinded by forced apathy.

And I think all of this is part of a larger problem—they wanted to use Arcane as a stepping stone to future shows, and as such, the class warfare and systemic oppression plot from season one was completely abandoned. They tried to solve it with “well they have to band together to face a bigger enemy.” Which in my personal opinion is a cheap cop out. There are always bigger fish, that doesn’t change the fact that Zaun has been living in Piltover’s filth with Piltover’s boot on their neck for generations. They’ve suffered injustices most of us can’t even comprehend. And then suddenly we’re supposed to believe they all band together to face this threat, stand side by side with their oppressors because Jayce made one speech about it? With no proof? And then all they get from the deal is one Zaunite seat on the council? And they’re okay with that? I never expected the show to solve systemic oppression, but I also didn’t expect them to abandon it this spectacularly.

The Noxus/Black Rose plot was clearly thrown in to set up future shows, and to show Netflix/investors/whoever that this massive financial investment has a future. And it destroyed the Piltover/Zaun story. I think this could have been a totally isolated story just about Piltover and Zaun, and been completely successful. In fact, I would have definitely watched future projects despite them not taking place in the setting of Arcane. And I’m not at all saying I don’t like Ambessa and Mel. I was very intrigued by the story of a warmonger like Ambessa facing her comeuppance, not just for her warmongering but for her affair with a damn MAGE. And her daughter trying desperately to break the mold her mother has set for her, while also struggling with who she is and these new, incredible powers she has. That shit is juicy as hell, and honestly should have been its own show. But throwing it into Arcane in season 2 with absolutely no hint of the Black Rose or its impending approach (beyond “the people who killed your brother don’t think the score is settled”) in season one, it just felt like the aforementioned cop out to get Piltover and Zaun to get along. And in doing so, they steamrolled Viktor to make him a bigger player in the narrative.

Did I like the final astral plane scene with Jayce and Viktor? God, yes. Is it one of the most beautiful confessions of love and eternal devotion I think I’ve ever fucking seen? Also yes. But it kinda feels like a bandaid on a bullet wound. I got the love I always knew remained between Jayce and Viktor, but I paid for it with Viktor’s entire character. Not to mention Christian Linke keeps pouring salt in the fucking wound, denouncing JayVik and “bromancing” them, and then also suggesting in one interview that Jayce and Viktor are actually fucking dead, and in another that Viktor will be back in future projects (with no mention of Jayce, which suggests that they’re turning him into Sky 2.0 and that he’s dead but Viktor isn’t). And that completely undermines the entire ending of season 2’s “intrinsically entwined/always you/in every universe.” And I know, I shouldn’t listen to this dude’s opinion on the matter, he’s not the only one making this thing, and honestly it was the easiest unfollow/mute of my life. But how hard is it to just shut the fuck up and let people enjoy things? To not comment one way or the other, let people think what they want, and rake in your millions in the process? Haven’t you ever heard of rainbow capitalism, my guy?

Ugh. I’m very sorry for being so negative, I didn’t want to be. I still love the show, and I’d still like to keep writing JayVik, even though it’s just been made near-impossible (I’m actually really glad that I never finished Oasis now, cuz I can go back to that and expand it well beyond what I originally planned cuz… it’s all I have left). I’m just mourning my cyborg wife, and the fact that goddamn SMEECH had what Viktor was supposed to. Hopefully the more time goes on, I can reconcile these changes and embrace them, cuz I love this fandom, I love this ship, and I don’t wanna lose it.

Anyway, I will still be sharing art and memes and posting analyses, because you can like a piece of media and still be critical of it.

[inbabylontheywept]

Hi there! I just read through a few of your long form posts -- the one about the boss and the glue traps and the lizards, the one about the friend and the radishes and the cop, and the one about the breakup and the car and the neighbor's car and your dad -- and I'm just really blown away by your writing. And I'm just curious, are they actual experiences or are they fiction? They read like actual experiences, and the writing is so naturalistic and...idk, low key sweet, stream of consciousness without the major sidetracking that often happens in stream of consciousness writing and also more...more poetical in a way, I guess. I don't know. Are you published or wanting to? I mean I couldn't help with that or anything but if you've got a book out I'd love to read it.

Patrick McManus was kind of THE legendary writer to my family. When my dad was a kid, he'd sit on the porch the door that the monthly copy of Outdoor Life was going to arrive, and as soon as he got it, he'd run in with it and take it to his dad, who would gather all his kids around and read the stories out loud.

My dad loved it because his dad would make a whole performance out of the readings: He'd do voices, pantomimes, dramatic sound effects, the works. The stories are amazing, but the out-of-character behavior from his dad was half the selling point. Grandpa Hank was, to his core, a good man. But he was gruff, and socially, pretty stiff, and he didn't often show emotion. I think my dad said he saw him tear up one time growing up, and it was when he got dropped off at the MTC. My mom was married to my dad for three years before Grandpa Hank was comfortable enough to sit down in their house, and he liked her. That's just how he was.

(You just praised me for not getting sidetracked, but I'm letting myself wander down those memories a bit. He died last year. I miss him terribly.)

Anyway: Those stories were how I first started learning how to spin a yarn. I got older and I got more influence than just cowboys and Westerns, but the soul of my style is still just The American Tall Tale.

Which is to say that they're not outright fabrications. When I say that I cut all the worms up in my backyard and had a panic attack and hid in a tree until my mom got me, that happened. But I only remember the vaguest outlines of the words that were said. When there's a line in that story about my mom telling me that she's sure the worms will forgive me because they got six hearts to love and no bones to pick, that's not how she talks. That's how I talk.

Other stories, they're far less fuzzy than that, but I can still point out things I don't know. Wrestling story was from middle school, and a lot of those "crisp details" are just me painting by vibe. I've had some people that did wrestling through highschool point out things like refs not actually counting to three, or how double-legs are not actually super effective for tall wrestlers. I don't actually know how much the woman I wrestled weighed, nor do I remember how much I weighed, except that I was more than two weight classes smaller than her. Car incident, I got broke up with, went to her parents door, waited on the lawn, and was given some olives to go with a wireless phone. But exact wording of a lot of the people involved fails me. As a rule, the weirder an event is, the more likely I am to be distinctly remembering it and not just filling in the background. Except for dialogue, which often turns out weird because when I have to make up things for other characters to say, it carries too much of my own speaking style in it, and that's always been weird.

There are even points where things do come right off the rails. In the stories about J post, J himself became a sort of mythic figure after he moved, and lot of the stories about him, I don't even know I'm remembering them first hand or second hand from a story someone else shared with me.

I know it would be easier to just go, yeah, they're true, or no, they're not, but I did a weird thing and mixed them up and now even I'm a little confused.

Regarding publishing: I'm not published, and the thought of trying to get published scares the shit out of me. I

I don't know. If anyone has advice, I'd be interested.

[moonastrogirl]

Venus + Ketu = a perfectionist, an artist, spiritual. Not really what you described. Ketu is not related to maya. Rahu is related to maya. A strong Ketu associated with Venus makes Venus obey, stopping it from materialism, making Venus go on the path of devotion to a religion/a person in a relationship. Ketu is the heart because it doesn’t have a brain, only listening to its body. Rahu I understand maybe because with Venus is full of materialism easy fast money but Ketu nah. I have Venus and Ketu in my 12th house and my Ketu is strong best believe I am nothing like you described. The whole chart needs to be examined plus divisional charts to know how someone can behave. One placement ? Let’s not go there. I also know someone with Rahu and Venus in the 12th house and he’s a healer working in the medical field and also spiritual. We understand each other. Rahu and Ketu do well in the dark/negatives houses 6th,8th, 12th because their nature changes to fight the obstacles such houses are creating in someone’s house to liberate them from their struggles. Rahu and Ketu are the army. 6th, 8th and 12th houses are the battlefield their prosper in.

Now for the nature of Venus, Venus is the commander in chief of the Asuras (demons). Venus is all about the finest things in life. Best behaviours too in society and the punishment of bad conduct. So this issue is definitely not about Venus. The thing is Rahu next to Venus, Rahu will imitate Venus qualities, display it but Rahu is the background energy, Rahu works with illusions, so next to a strong or weak Venus, Rahu becomes strong and might go crazy and go after everything it desires. Rahu is desires, obsessions, also detachment of materialism after it matures around the age of 42. Only a strong ketu can balances out rahu. Ketu is the light at the end of the dark empty tunnel after enlightenment happens thanks to spiritual work . Ketu is in the dark all the time until it does the work to see life through its senses and heart. Rahu is the light that goes crazy, the limelight that might disappear into unknown/dangerous places because it wants to experience everything because of insane desires. Rahu is in the light because its eyes are wide open but also cannot feel a thing, visionary without intuition. Rahu is the brain but yet it’s through the brain we have downloads from the spirit world. Rahu is also known to be one of the gardians of the gates of heaven.

So in conclusion nothing is just all dark or just all light. Dark and light work together. Good and Evil. There is balance in this universe. Yin and Yong. Rahu and Ketu. The background energy makes us realise we all can be good and bad depending on a situation.

Society have conditioned us to just see things in black and white. Without telling us dark and light will always balance each other. Too much light will lead to the darkest times. For instance : celebrities being always in the spotlight and then going crazy when they’re alone, doing the most insane stuff. Too much darkness will lead to the brightest time. For instance : the black sheep of the family hated all his life from birth, going from trauma to trauma, yet being enough resilient to heal and thrive later in life.

venus, or shukra, being the teacher of the demons is much more an ignored fact than it should be. in the charts of tantriks / people who practice black magic to hurt others, venus is in low dignity with rahu. in the charts of known terrorists, dictators, murderers, serial killers etc venus is almost always in extremely weak dignity or extremely strong while being a malefic.

and i don't mean the 'venus in virgo' kind of weak; i mean the venus which comes into contact with the tamasic planets like mars and saturn, or with the demonly rahu and ketu and is also weak in the shadbala and digabala, or is a malefic and is very strong in the shadbala. edit: since i saw this getting popular, i'd like to emphasize that a malefic venus + strong shadbala + weak digbala + conjunct rahu is the worst case scenario, don't demonize yourself or anything 💀

the entire romanticization of this planet is really testament to the way this planet's maya / illusion works. in reality, having an extremely weak venus or very strong malefic venus is a huge red flag; -100/10, always avoid such people. while they appear charming on the surface, they have great potential for destruction and are very sadistic people.

to me, venus is the planet to look out for when you are psychoanalysing somebody. often times, it reveals insights into the person's psychology and actions that even the moon or ascendant can't.

[morlock-holmes]

Okay, guys, after reading a post by @centrally-unplanned I just took that ACX "AI Turing Test" that Scott Alexander did, and I am screaming, as the kids used to say.

You guys are way, way overthinking this.

I thought I would do better than average, and I guess I did; excluding three pictures I had seen before, I got 31/46 correct.

Not great if you're taking the SAT, but I feel like if I could call a roulette spin correctly 2 times out of 3 I could clean up in Vegas.

So, what is the secret of my amazing, D+ performance?

You have to look at the use of color and composition as tools to draw the eye to points of interest.

AI is really bad at this, when left to its own devices.

For example, here:

Part of the reason to suspect that this is AI is the "AI house style" and the bad hands that I literally only noticed right this exact second as I was typing this sentence. Even if the hands were rendered correctly, I would still clock this as AI.

The focal point of this piece ought to be the face of the woman and the little dragon she is looking at (Just noticed the dragon's wings don't match up either), but take off your glasses or squint at this for a second:

Your eye is being drawn by the bright gold sparkles on the lower right side of the piece. That particular bright gold is only in that spot on the image, but there's no reason to look there, it's just an upper arm and an elbow. The bright light source highlighting the woman's horn separates it out as a point of interest.

Meanwhile, the weird aurora streaming out of the woman's face on the left side means that it is blending in with the background.

In other words, the way the image is composed, and the subject matter suggest that your eye should be drawn here:

But the use of color suggests that you should look here:

That's a senseless place to draw the eye towards! It would be a really weird mistake for a human to make! In fact, I think there's a strong argument that the really close cropped picture of the face of the character is a strong improvement. It's still not a particularly good composition, but at least the color contrast now draws the eye to the proper points.

In fact, I would say that a good reason for my performance not being even better was this alarming statement at the start of the test:

I've tried to crop some pictures of both types into unusual shapes, so it won't be as easy as "everything that's in DALL-E's default aspect ratio is AI".

Uh...

So how about this one:

This is a lot better anatomically and in terms of the use of color and light to draw the eye towards sensible parts of the painting. The lighting makes pretty good sense in terms of coming from a particular direction and it also draws the eye to effectively to the face and the outstretched hand of the figure.

It's also a really flat and meaningless composition and subject matter that no renaissance artist would have chosen. What is this angel doing, exactly? Our eye is drawn to the face and hand, and the figure is looking off towards the left side, at, uh, what exactly?

But then I thought, "Well, maybe Scott chopped out a giant chunk of the picture, and this is just a detail from, like, the lower right eighth of some giant painting with three other figures that makes total sense"

This makes sense as a piece of a larger human made artwork, but if you tell me, "Nope, that's the whole thing and this is the original, un-cropped picture" I'd go, "Oh, AI, obviously.

All of the ones I had trouble with were AI art with good composition and use of color, and human ones with bad composition and use of color. For example, this one:

This has three solid points of interest arranged in an interesting relationship with different colors to block them out. I'd say the biggest tells are that the astronauts' feet are out of frame, which is a weird choice, and looking closely now, the landscape and smoke immediately to the right of the ship don't really make sense.

But again; I had to think, "Maybe Scott just cropped it weird and they had feet in the original picture."

Here's another problem:

StableDiffusion being bad at composition is such a known problem that there are a variety of tools which a person can use to manually block out the composition. In fact, let me try something.

I popped open Krita (Which now has a StableDiffusion plugin) and after literally dozens of generations and a couple of different models I landed on ZavyChromaXL with the following prompt:

concept art of two astronauts walking towards a spaceship on an alien planet, with a giant moon in th background, artstation, classic scifi, book cover

And this was the best I could do:

Not great, but Krita has a tool that lets you break an image into regions which each have different prompts, so I quickly blocked something out:

Each of those color blobs has a different part of the prompt, so the green region has "futuristic astronauts" the blue is the spaceship, the orange is the moon, grey is the ground and pink is the sky, which gives us:

Still way too much, so we can use Krita's adaptive patch tool and AI object removal to get:

I'm not saying it's high art, or even any good, but it's better than the stuff I was getting from a pure prompt, because a human did the composition.

But it's still so dominated by AI processes that it's fair to call it "AI Art".

Which makes me wonder how many of the AI pictures I called out as human made because one of the traits I was looking for, good composition, was in fact, actually made by a human.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

Prompt 5 from the Christmas prompts is the story of my life 😭 I swear I’m sick every Christmas

I feel like Remus would be the perfect caregiver though! Bringing you cocoa and giving you lots of snuggles to keep you warm, not worried at all about you getting him sick just trying to make you feel better.

Ugh, being sick during Christmas is the worst! But you’re absolutely right—Remus would be the best caregiver. He’d make being sick almost worth it. Almost. 💛

remus lupin x reader who always falls sick on Christmas

The universe was out to get you. There was no other explanation.

Snuggled under a fortress of blankets on the couch, you sniffled, your glare fixed on the twinkling Christmas tree. Everything was perfect—crackling fire, stockings hanging neatly, a soft hum of holiday music in the background. Except for the glaring detail that you were once again sick on Christmas.

Remus entered, balancing a tray with a steaming mug of cocoa, a bowl of soup, and an annoyingly gentle smile. His cardigan was slightly oversized, sleeves pushed up just enough to reveal his forearms. You could barely muster the strength to scowl at how calm and collected he looked.

“Of course I get sick on Christmas,” you lamented, voice heavy with misery. “Only me. Every year. It’s like a curse.” You punctuated your point with a long sniffle.

Remus set the tray down and perched on the edge of the couch, his hand finding your forehead to check your temperature. “That’s not true,” he said, voice soothing but suspiciously light.

You squinted at him, suspicious. “Yes, it is. This happens every year without fail.”

“No, it doesn’t,” he countered. “Last year, James was the one who got sick.”

You froze, mouth open in disbelief. “Excuse me? That’s a bold-faced lie.”

Remus chuckled, clearly prepared for this. “It’s not. He spent the entire day sprawled out on the floor, moaning about how he’d lost his sense of taste and dramatically declaring he wouldn’t live to see the new year.”

“That doesn’t count,” you snapped, sitting up straighter. “James is always like that. He stubs his toe and acts like he’s been mortally wounded. This is different.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”

“Because I’m actually suffering,” you said, clutching your blanket tighter. “This is real pain, Remus. I’m a victim.”

He bit his lip, probably to keep from laughing, which only fueled your indignation. “A victim of… the common cold?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Wow. Nice to know where I stand in your priorities. Here I am, barely clinging to life, and you’re making jokes.”

“I’m not joking,” he replied, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “I’m just saying, for someone who’s ‘barely clinging to life,’ you’re awfully chatty.”

“Oh, so now I’m annoying?” you gasped, clutching your chest as if he’d struck you.

He laughed then, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple. “I didn’t say that.”

“But you were thinking it,” you accused, your tone dripping with dramatic flair.

Remus pulled the blanket tighter around you both, settling beside you and pulling you into his side. “You’re right,” he said solemnly. “You’re the picture of suffering. No one’s ever had it worse than you.”

“Thank you,” you sniffed, but the satisfaction was short-lived. “Wait, are you mocking me?”

“I would never,” he replied, though his grin betrayed him.

You huffed, sinking back into the couch. “I’m too sick for this,” you muttered. “Go mock Sirius or something.”

“But Sirius isn’t as cute when he’s sick,” Remus said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You opened your mouth to argue but were cut off by a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Besides,” he murmured, “I’d much rather be here, taking care of you.”

For a moment, your indignation wavered, replaced by warmth at his words. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” you grumbled, leaning into his side.

Despite the stuffiness in your nose and the ache in your head, you let out a soft laugh. “You shouldn’t be so close. You’ll get sick.”

He smoothed a hand over your hair, thumb brushing soothingly along your temple. His touch was so gentle, you wanted to melt into it, fever and all. “I’m not worried about you getting me sick, you know,” he murmured. “I’d rather stay here, risk it all, and keep you warm.”

The warmth of his words wrapped around you better than any blanket. “You’re ridiculous,” you whispered, the teasing edge in your voice softening.

“And you,” he replied, “are stubborn.” He tucked the blanket more securely around you, fussing like you were something fragile. “But I suppose you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t grumble a little.”

You huffed, nose scrunching in mock annoyance. “Grumble? I’m dying, Remus.”

His lips twitched, eyes sparkling with fond amusement. “You’ll survive,” he said, reaching for the cocoa. He blew on it gently before handing it to you. “Drink.”

“I know,” he said smugly.

“And if you get sick, I’m not taking care of you,” you added, taking a sip.

“Sure, you won’t.”

“I’m serious,” you warned, though your tone lacked any real heat. “I’ll fill your soup with glitter and make you regret everything.”

Remus chuckled, his hand tracing soothing circles on your back. “Glitter or not, I’d still risk it.”

The fire crackled, the tree lights twinkled, and for all your dramatics, being sick didn’t feel so terrible—not with Remus by your side.

REQUESTED FROM : this post RELATED TO : this post

[brandycranby]

safe house

summary: escaped felons curtis and jake have found temporary shelter for the night... and you

pairing: dark!curtis everett x f!reader x dark!jake jensen

word count: 3.3k

warning(s): 18+ only!!! DARK FIC, explicit non-con/dub-con, hints of religous trauma/background, loss of virginity, rough sex, ball sucking, nipple play, humiliation, degradation, name calling, mind break, no happy ending

author's note: y'all had better read those warnings 🫢 this is 3,000+ words of porn w very little plot and a lot of talk abt sexually naive reader. i write virgins bc i am one and bc at heart im a horny blaspheming catholic w questionable kinks. got it? ok. dont like, just click away.

dividers by @aestelics and @cafekitsune

Storms hit fast up here upstate. You’ve gotten used to spying the grey clouds rolling in and immediately running to lock up the chickens.

But beyond the initial panic to batten down the hatches, stormy nights accompanied with the relaxing sounds of thunder and rain are more treats to be relished than something to be worried about. They mean calling it an early night and snuggling up.

So when the first droplets hit the window that evening, just after dusk, nothing remained on your mind besides climbing into bed. Not the garden that still needs to be weeded, the fence waiting for paint, nor the latest fight between the hens.

Not even the creaky front door that needs its lock replaced.

“Look at these shorts, fucking cute.”

A low voice breaks through the constant pitter-patter of torrential rain on the roof, bringing your consciousness to the surface. You whimper. Through the fogginess, you hear the sound of boots clomping around and the tell-tale squeak of drawers being pulled out.

That’s not right.

There shouldn’t be anyone with you in the house. But- voices. You twitch in your nest of blankets. Rain pounds the windows and the irresistible drag of sleep dulls your mind.

“Our luck doesn’t stop, Jensen. Look at this angel.”

Another voice rings out, closer now. It’s rougher and gravelly, mocking like a schoolboy that’s found some poor animal to torment.

Hot breath fans across your face while the edge of your bed dips. There’s a man- there are men in your house. You have to wake up. But you’re so sleepy and your limbs are so heavy. Thunder crashes far off in the distance.

But the men- what do you do? Should you play possum? Stay still? Maybe they’d go away.

A hand on your calf surprises you with its warmth. Fingers press into your skin, testing its firmness. Another finds the hem of your nightdress to drag it up, up, up…

The man at your legs chuckles. “White. That’s cute.” When he presses his face against your panties, you can feel the frames of his glasses, his nose bumping against your cleft, and a soft burst of air as he inhales.

You squeak and it echoes loudly in your bedroom. The stranger pauses, his breath warming your mound. Blood pounds in your ears as you quiver, still trying to hold still. You fist your hands in the blankets as quick breaths escape you. This is a bad dream, just a bad dream-

The bed sinks again, your heart sinking with it. A large body settles down next to you and a big hand wraps around your throat. “Time to wake up.”

The sudden slap on your sex makes you squeal, eyes flying open at the sting of it. And oh- you try to wiggle away for all of two seconds before the massive shadow between your legs quickly straddles you, pinning you down with his weight.

“Who are you?” you try to shout but it comes out a whisper. A little cry escapes you as he ignores you and tears the rest of your nightgown off, the cool air a sudden shock, prickling your breasts.

Lightning flashes through the window and you see your tormentor for the first time. His long nose, blonde hair and goatee, a jumpsuit that’s more gray than blue from all the mud on it.

The hand on your throat shifts to your jaw, wrenching your face up in a tight grip, and your eyes roll, finding blue ones that stare back with cold fire. This one, this one is more dangerous. He breathes a long slow breath, his beard a whisker away. There’s a predator’s stillness in the lines of his bulky body, clad in the same jumpsuit as his companion’s, equally as muddy.

His eyes appraise you with slow flicks from your face, frozen in horror, to your exposed chest, nipples pebbling in the cold air. His scrutiny makes you burn. The mortification suffocates you, it brings quick tears to your eyes, and you move to cover yourself. But the blond quickly lands another slap on your clothed mound and your arms are pulled away as he looks at you with a burning hunger.

“None of that, baby. ‘S alright, you can call me Jake,” he reaches out and thumbs the soft plush of your lips, “and this here’s my... roommate, Curtis.”

The two men share grins at some deeper joke but all you notice is the pounding of your heart and a strange ache between your legs. The feeling of their muscular bodies crowding your smaller one, their musk, their roughness. The things they could do to you, will do to you.

What would your parents say? Don’t let them touch you, don’t touch yourself- this is so wrong. This is wrong and a sin and they shouldn’t be in your bed and you shouldn’t think about their touch-

“Please let me go, please- ah!” You beg, beginning to cry as Jake’s large hand closes over one of your breasts, testing its weight as he squeezes. His appreciative groan makes your legs press together and you try fruitlessly to break their grips one more time.

“You’re such a pretty thing,” his thick fingers trace your nipple before pinching it. “Innocent, huh?”. He laughs as you mewl and beg him to leave you alone, you won’t tell anyone where they went, just go away, please. The insistent brush of his thumb across your sensitive tit sparks lightning in your veins no matter how you deny it. By your side, Curtis’s free hand comes to fondle your other breast roughly, twisting the nipple with a violence that your body had never been subjected to, that you’ve never been made to feel.

But the pleasure that wells up from his cruelty is addictive, rawer and stronger than you ever imagined even when you had tentatively explored your body in the past, under the covers and in the dark of night. You had rubbed yourself over your clothes, shame keeping you caressing actual flesh.

Now you cry out, confused and gulping loud sobs under the hand that grips your jaw. Jake coos at you and you meet his eyes with a pleading look, willing him to tell his friend to let you go, to stop hurting you.

The blonde grins at you instead and closes his mouth over your stiff nipple, lashing it with his hot tongue. His facial hair scrapes at your skin and you buck your hips, mewling. There’s a wetness like your monthly seeping out, but odder, slicker.

Jake slurps, sucking your dark nipple into his mouth and scraping it with his teeth. You shriek, you wail.

“Please, please, please,” You don’t know what you’re begging for anymore.

His hot mouth is all that’s grounding you, the sensations too much for you to comprehend. Your back arches and you turn your head to hide in the crook of Curtis’s neck, anywhere you can to escape these feelings. But his ripe smell fills your lungs and there’s no reprieve because his hand is still tormenting your other breast, skillfully trapping its peak between his fingers as he breathes into your ear.

“You can pretend like you don’t want it, you little whore. I know your type, getting all worked up from your tits being sucked, huh?” His chest rumbles with a pleased growl as your pathetic sobbing starts up again.

The terror in the air makes his hair stand on end, a high like no other coursing through his blood. Curtis can’t remember when he’s ever felt so alive. Not since he stole his first car and definitely not when he killed his last man. But the frightened noises that escape your lips have him rock hard, fuck, you’re so sensitive.

He thumbs your nipple harder, tugging this way and that, grinning viciously as you keen, an animal sound that joins the wet slurping filling the air. Your hips shake under Jake’s, who groans at every brush of your clothed mound against his cock, faster and faster until the knot of pressure that’s been pulling tighter finally snaps-

“That’s it, little girl. You like it when we play with your nipples?” Curtis’s smokey drawl is in your ear but you barely hear him, barely hear the thunder outside. There’s only their big hands on you, your aching breasts still being tugged on and sucked relentlessly, and the unceasing clenching of your sex. You sob, a mindless squeal of shock dying in your throat as your walls tremble, squeezing desperately around nothing.

Jake lets go of your abused tit with a pop, enraptured by your little mouth opened wide from pleasure, lips shining with spit and tears. His cock is an aching brand along his thigh and god, he wants to fuck that mouth, see your eyes fill with horror as he forces you to suck his fat cock, kiss his heavy balls after he drags them over your face. You’d be so good for him, so pliant and innocent. You’re definitely a virgin, he’s sure of that. It gets him even harder, balls tightening at the thought of you cockdrunk, sloppy and well-fucked.

“Ah…” Your tongue is heavy and you blink clumsily as Curtis turns your head towards him and forces his mouth on yours. The press of his lips is jarring, reigniting your fight as his beard scratches your cheeks. You push at him, trembling, baby fawn weak against his chest as he rolls over, displacing Jake.

All you can do is cry as Curtis’ tongue invades your mouth, stopping your breath until spots blur your vision. His hands grope your sides, your thighs, dipping under your panties to bruise your soft ass.

You’re wet all over, covered in tears, spit, and your own sinful slick that drips down and makes you whimper. Stained, bruised, lying in a pool of your own filth. Why, what is happening to you? Are you begging for mercy? Crying out in indignation- or is it pleasure- as Curtis holds you in place and tears off your panties, baring your hot twitching sex to their eyes.

“You liked that-” His hands on your mons, carding through your intimate hair. “No!” His fingers touching you, spreading your lips apart, depraved groans coming from both men. “Yes, you did. You were a bitch in heat."

"Nuh- ah!” His fingers, his calloused fingers, rubbing, teasing, pressing at the little nub hidden in your folds. You scream at the sparkles of pleasure, your body arching off the bed. You scream in grief, half in shock at the little losses of innocence this night has already brought you.

“Look at you, your pussy’s so wet.”

“Don’t cry, baby, we’ll take good care of you-”

“You’re going to take both our cocks in this tiny virgin cunt-”

“Fuck, look at her clench-”

“Rub our cum all over your pussy, your asshole-"

“- she’s gonna cum again.”

With a stroke of fear, you do. Crying softly, boneless with exhaustion as a second orgasm rips through your lower half, culminating at that hard little point of your sex. Your clit twitches weakly under Curtis’ wicked fingers, trapped between his index and middle, tugged at relentlessly.

His eyes never leave your pussy. Fuck is it messy - soppy and wet with your cum and the spittle he'd been unable to resist dripping on you, lost in pleasure. It's been too long since he's fucked a woman; he won't last a second if your cunt is as tight as he thinks it is. Jake won't either; the stupid kid shuffles up to the headboard where you lay weeping and pulls his dick out. The tip just barely misses your cheek as it bobs in the air, stiff and heavy.

Grunting, Curtis carefully slides his pointer finger up and down your wetness, he'll need to break you in as best he can. The plan was to grab cash, grab a car, and get out. Maybe pick up a whore along the way, pump and dump. But you, you change everything.

He pushes a thick finger in, feeling the hot sponginess of your walls. Your sobs are music to his ears and your nervous clenching makes his balls jump. The velvet softness of your pussy hides just how strong the muscles are. You're going to strangle his cock, he grins in realization. And if he trains you right, he'll get to feel your ass around him too.

He can see it now. You spread open, crying again, begging him not to touch your little asshole. So cute and innocent. He does it anyway, penetrating that tight ring of muscle with his fat cock, easing in the head to the sound of your screams. He'll fuck you good and deep, pressing you down so your hips curve into his and his pubic hair scrapes against your exposed pussy. He'll cum in you too and make you squeeze it out in front of him, squatting like a bitch.

But first, your pussy. He spits on you again, a big glob landing on your clit and you flinch. To his wonder, the second finger he fucks in you doesn't elicit another round of sobbing. Probably because you’re completely focused on Jake's cock two inches away from your face.

With wide eyes, you tremble under the barrage to your senses. Curtis between your legs is terrifying, yes, and the forceful intrusion to your body is equally unwanted yet pleasurable. But that, that presented in front of you is a completely new sight. One you’ve never been allowed to experience or even think about. What kind of girl thinks about men’s penises? A slut, a whore. Your grandmother had lots of names for girls like that.

“Come on, baby. Open up.” Jake’s sickly sweet croon shakes you out of your thoughts, his big hand cradling your jaw. With the other, he gives his cock a shake, thwapping it onto your cheek. Once, twice, the precum mixing with the tears still cascading down your face.

“I don't want to, please. Please.” You whisper to him, or both of them, shaking hard as Curtis adds a third thick finger, stretching you open in a gut-churningly painful way.

Neither think to respond. With a grunt, Jake shifts forward, gagging you with his balls as he jerks himself off with slow tight circling motions. Up and down the shaft, thrusting his sack deeper into your mouth. His musk is overwhelming, a strong heady scent that’s entirely man and sweat. It saturates his hairy balls, the crease of his thigh, and the fly of his jumpsuit bumping against your face.

You can’t see anything, the thick length of him covers your eyes. No matter how hard you try to take your mind off what’s happening by praying or pleading or begging, your senses magnifies the situation tenfold.

Jake’s skin is salty, velvety. Soft and thin but pulsing hot in your mouth. You can feel when his balls jump when your tongue accidentally brushes up against the seam while trying to find room to go. He pulls them from your lips, the act accompanied with a slobbery pop.

There’s no reprieve - instead he drags the fat mushroom tip of his cock along your features, rubbing it between your soft lips even as they press closed in a vain attempt to prevent any more assault.

“She’s ready.”

Curtis shucks off his jumpsuit, pushing it down to his hips and baring his hairy torso in one violent motion. He sees you when you jolt, your eyes following the trail of hair down to the darkest point, where it all culminates above his cock, half-trapped but straining against the waistband. He pulls it out and his balls too, letting them rest on your soft tummy. It heaves, he grins as he feels you try to suck in your stomach, pulling yourself away from his presence the only way you can.

Fat chance. He knows it, Jake knows it, and you know it too from the look on your face. Eyes never leaving him, waiting for his next move.

Good girl, smart girl. Innocent and naive as shit but smart enough to know that he’s the danger in this room. Not the two-bit cybercriminal still trying to coax your mouth open.

Taking his cock in hand, he flicks the head through your cunt, taking in the warm wet feel of your everything. The hard nub of your clit, the delicate inner lips, the roughness of your pussy hair made soft by the amount of juice he’s forced you to squirt out. A feral grin splits his face when you cry out in pleasure. He rubs up and down your pussy, spitting on you again and watching you jerk when it lands and smears all over your formerly pristine and proper little snatch.

“That’s it,” Curtis snarls, catching his tip on your pussy hole. “Get used to it, princess, you’re going to be fucked like a five dollar whore whenever I want from now on.”

You open your mouth to scream something back or wail or cry more, he doesn’t care, but Jake finally takes the opportunity to shut you up, plugging your mouth with as much of his cock as he can. Which isn’t much, he realizes when it won’t go in past the first few inches.

There’s so much for you to learn, debaucheries to subject you to. The thought of them has his head swimming as he finally pierces into you, penetrating slowly but surely until he has your legs pressed up to your chest, opened up so he’s in you so deep, he’s got his balls against your asshole and his pubes tickling your clit.

Then he fucks you, hard and deep at a pace he loves and you despair at. In and out of your virgin pussy. Squelching sounds filling the air as you’re invaded from both ends. Curtis grabs your breast again, pinching your nipple and twisting it, rubbing the pad of his finger against the tip to his thrusts that jolt you against the bedsheets like a rag doll.

Spit flows from your mouth, gagged wide open by Jake’s dick, his balls slapping against your jaw. You can’t see, you don’t want to see anymore.

No more proof of how these men are taking you apart and dirtying you beyond recognition. Shame will come later when you’re making breakfast for them in your own house while they sit at your kitchen table and put their feet up on your nice chairs. How dare you give in so easily? How dare you just lay there and take it and get so wet, the bedsheets were damp like you had pissed yourself. Maybe you had, you don’t know.

After the first round, they had you for another. That time Jake filled your gaping pussy with his cock, using Curtis’ cum as extra lube, uncaring that it covered his balls along with the rest of his cum and your saliva. And Curtis was on top of you, wiping his cock on your face, smearing the mix of your pussy juice and his seed on your eyelashes and cheeks, making you smell yourself on him.

“Clean me up,” he said, palm on your forehead to force it back so you could see him in his massive glory. His shaven head made him look so burly and manly that you quickly obeyed, jaws tired but still opening so he could run the length of his cock up and down your tongue and face, making sure to drop his balls in your mouth so you could suck at them like a lamb trying to nurse. Half in confusion and half trying to seek comfort in desperation.

You’ll have to learn how to live with it, the thought strikes you through the fog of brutal treatment. The shame. You flatten your tongue for one of them to spill in your mouth again. Time passes in a weird stretch so that you don’t know what’s happening or what they’re doing to your body. Isn't it better this way? To give in to their maelstrom?

It'll come back to you in the morning though.

Just wait.

It'll always come back.

clearly i worked through some stuff writing this... 😳 anyways i started this in 2021. happy thanskgiving everyone 🥰🫶🏻

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[thefaithfulnightwriter]

𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊 ~ Chapter Two

Summary - 𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 Azriel's mate is banished to another world by Amarantha. To a world she never knew existed. To a different world called Zenithara. She finds herself being stuck in Zenithara for many years. And as more time passes it leads her to giving up hope to ever get back to her family, her mate. It changes her living in such a world. She never once felt safe in Zenithara. But one day when she is given a mask. She finds herself feeling safe and concealed from the world. It gave her a sense of strength and power. Which leads her to persevere in the new world she was in.

But what will happen when she finds herself being sent back to her old world Prythian, to her home in Velaris? What will happen when she is finally reunited with her family… her mate?

Pairing - Azriel x Female!Oc

Universe - A Court of Thorns and Roses

Warnings -  Characters may be a bit OOC, Mature Themes, Gore, Death, Semi Smut, Violence, Language, Weapons, Mention of Past Abuse, Mention of War, Things Will Be Changed, Fluff, Angst, Some Sensitive Subjects, Mating Bonds, Scars, Experimentation, More Will Be Added If Needed.

Disclaimer - I do not own the series ACOTAR. I do own certain characters, and I own my mc. I do own somethings that are made up. I also got some inspiration from some movies and tv shows. So if you see anything familiar.  But i own my writing and whatnot you get where im going and what i am saying lol.

Author's Note - i really hope you like this fic. i gotta say this fic is very challenging for me because of the world building around it and what not. but i do love it. i hope you guys do too. that is all i can think to say lol.

─── Zenithara ───

─── G.H.O.S.T Ship ───

Anna was now sitting on a carrier ship that was going back to Sky City. Her team, Alpha team who were mainly led by Evan, surrounded her. Very soft music was playing in the background. To try and keep everyone calm. But also not loud so everyone could stay alert. 

But the main thing she heard was soft talking between teammates and clicking of weapons. All were making sure their weapons were charged and loaded. Making sure they were all in the right holsters and secured. 

Even after the team successfully retained the load of many innocent people that were kidnapped from Sector One, and were on their way to the Arena. The Arena now resorting to kidnapping people for the Killer games. Being that they were losing people from the Abyss. Well more so the Arena. Being that the justice system was moving and placing criminals elsewhere. Not wanting the Arena or Killer games to continue. Which led G.H.O.S.T. to have to step in and save the people they can. 

Right now though Anna’s team was still on guard. Because the mission wasn't over just yet. They still needed to get these people safely back to Sky City. So they could get checked more thoroughly for injuries, and so they could give the justice system their statements on what happened to them. 

The people they had saved were currently in med bay. People from Beta team trying to keep them calm, and helping them with any injuries they could. Along with the team mates who had been injured during the mission.

At the moment Anna was observing her surroundings with her now glowing gold eyes. Now being able to see clearly without her glasses, as she used one of her abilities. Her ability of enhanced eyesight. Which when she used such eyesight her eyes always glowed a golden color. 

Right now she was watching everything around her on the ship. From behind her mainly golden, black, porcelain colored mask. That covered her whole face. The only thing that could be seen were her eyes. Other than that you couldn't see her face, nothing. Only her eyes. 

In Anna's eyes it was a beautiful mask. It was gifted to her by Katrina many years ago when she was still in the Arena. A mask that was very precious to Anna. A mask that she took care of and kept in immaculate shape.  

The top had golden and black intricate patterns that flared up slightly at the crown of her head. With amber and golden jewels that dangled on the side. Then at the middle of her head of the mask was an amber jewel. 

The golden and black detailed patterns that went from the top of her head then curved under her eyes and over her nose. Around her eyes were black, the only thing that was seen were her eyes. The lower half of her face was covered by porcelain with a pair of golden lips painted on it. 

Then around her neck was covered by black cover that had a few golden chains. It held up the mask and some mechanics that were connected to her mask. Her being the only one who knew how to use it. Knowing all the ins and outs of the mask. Having it for many years now.   

The mask was one of Anna's prize possessions. Having her mask on was also one of the things she used to cope with everything. Her mask gave her a sense of safety and power. It concealed her from the world. Giving her the strength to persevere in Zenithara. 

But most of all it kept her hidden. It hid who she was, hid her scars, her emotions, it hid Anna. 

Which was something she loved. She loved to stay hidden. Anna seemed to love it so much that she wore her mask whenever she was around people. The only time she had it off was around Evan and his father. But sometimes it was still hard for her to take it off. The two though knew how to coax it off her and make her feel safe. They were the only two who could. 

Though when Anna was alone. Mainly in one of her homes in the three Sectors or her own room, that was the only time she had the mask off. Not feeling safe but somewhat comfortable. It was when she swapped her mask for her glasses. Letting her eyes settle to their normal dark brown. But that rarely happened.   

She was accustomed to having her golden gleaming eyes on display. She was accustomed to seeing everything in a more intense and enhanced way. 

Though she had her glasses it couldn't compare to having her enhanced sight. And without either she was just blind. Only being able to see a meter in front of her. Which she didn’t like. It made her feel vulnerable, and she couldn’t stand that feeling. That was why she used her enhanced sight so much, most of the time. 

But also with that she always has an ear out for anything as well. Having trained her hearing just as much as her eyesight. So, if anything happened she would be prepared in any way. It wasn't really hard with her being a high fae. 

Though at one point her pointed ears caused her trouble while in the Arena. Doctors became more curious than ever over her, and wanted to experiment on her when they found her in the Arena. More than any other subject they had. They wanted to find out everything about her, and enhance everything. One of the things it led to was having a piece of her ears cut off. Leaving on the outer shell of her pointed ear to have a crescent type shape cut out.  

Even after that inncident she stayed strong, it was hard but she kept going. It didn't deter her. But it did lead to her wanting to train her hearing to be sharper. Just as sharp as her heightened eyesight, when her eyes were glowing. So she could rely on her hearing if anything. Having done such a thing though caused her to have an advantage. With her eyesight and hearing. But also caused her to see and hear the world in a different way. 

Just like now. Looking around once again she took everything in. The walls of the ship, the bags, the weapons, and the people talking and whispering. Who were her teammates. There were many who she noticed and recognized but few she didn't. 

It caused her to sigh and lean further back into her seat. As she stayed to herself. She didn't want to interact nor be near anyone. Anna just wanted to get this mission over with and help where she could. Then go home. Maybe have a drink then escape into her art work. 

When she wasn't on missions she was working on her art. It was another thing she used to cope. Through her art she brought Prythian her old world to Zenithara. She had walls upon walls covered with paintings of her old world, her old life. They were in all three of her houses. 

Her favorite house was in Sector Two, Middle ground. She had dedicated the house to everything Night Court, or Velaris. Middle Ground gave her the most inspiration. Reminding her the most of her home Velaris somewhat.

In her house that was in Middle Ground there were murals all over. They were mainly paintings of places in Velaris. Like the mountains that surrounded Velaris, the stars, the House of Wind, the Rainbow, Rita's, and more. But there were also paintings of her family. One wall was dedicated to them. Cassian, Rhysand, Amren, and Morrigan. 

Then there was a wall dedicated to one more person, a male. A male that she missed so much. That had a piece of her heart. A piece of her soul. A piece of her that she would never get back. He was someone she desperately wanted to not forget. He was someone so important to her. He was her mate... Azriel. 

Over time, over the past fifty something years Anna has forgotten some of her old life, her old world. That was one of the reasons she drew and painted so much, it was so she wouldn't forget. Anna wouldn't say she had the most excellent memory. But she could remember some things. But the one thing or person she remembered the most about was Azriel. 

Though there were things she had forgotten like his voice, his scent, the way his touch felt. It caused Anna to cry for days when she realized she had forgotten such things. But the things she could remember out weighted the things she couldn't. She believed it was because she drew him so many times over the years. It was so she could remember and keep the memories alive. To keep his memory alive and with her. 

She could mostly remember what he looked like. Things like his tan skin that seemed to glow under the sun. His beautiful large strong black wings upon his back that he would use to fly.  His clever shadows that wisped around him. His ebony hair that fell over his eyes. And his eyes. 

His beautiful hazel eyes that could show nothing one moment, then another moment be filled with such raw emotions. He could take her breath away with one look. Anna missed those looks. She missed his intense hazel eyes on her. Anna missed Azriel so much. At times she found herself missing him the most.

A sad sigh escaped her lips. As her head and shoulders fell and her eyes closed. As she remembered Azriel. It took everything in Anna to not let her tears fall. To not let her emotions go everywhere and let her powers out. Being they were connected to her emotions. 

It took a lot out of Anna this time to steel herself. And Anna noticed it. She noticed that it was becoming harder for her to keep doing such a thing. Because lately Anna... she was tired. 

Anna was tired of hiding. She was tired of fighting. She was tired of losing people. She was tired of feeling lost. She was tired of this world. She was tired of it all. But Anna knew she had to keep going. Because she knew that many people would want her to keep going. Azriel, her old family in Prythian, Katrina, Eva, her nephews. Anna knew she had to stay strong. 

Anna though didn't know how long she could go on. Because when it came down to it she was exhausted, lost, and alone. Yes, there were parts of Zenithara that were beautiful. And Anna may have or not seen them all. But if she was being honest with herself Anna just didn't care for Zenithara. Not as much as she cares for Prythian. Because even with more than half a century passing with her in this world Zenithara, she still felt so lost, and alone. 

Even with Evan and his father. Anna loved her nephews very much and they helped her. But there was only so much they could do. They had their own lives, and unfortunately they would never understand her. Not what she has been through. Not what she is or who she was. No one would understand. But she still loved them for helping her.

Anna was soon shaken from such thoughts when she heard Evan. Catching her attention. She was soon looking at him with her golden eyes. She found him kneeling in front of where she was sitting. His crystal eyes were on her and filled with worry. As he gently placed his fingerless gloved cover hands over hers. He was quick to hold them when she didn't pull away from him.

"Hey. Are you okay?" Evan whispered softly to her. So only she could hear what he was saying. Knowing she could hear him. He didn't want to draw any attention to them. Knowing Anna didn't like the attention on her. He also didn't want her to feel uncomfortable. So he took to speaking low to her, and tried to keep her attention on him. 

All Anna could do was take a deep breath and nod slightly. As she looked away from him. She didn't want to tell him her thoughts or problems. She didn't want to push her problems onto him. Nor did she want to burden him with her issues.    

"I find that hard to believe. You know you can talk to me right Auntie Goldie?" Evan sighed sadly. Hearing him caused Anna to nod her head again. Which led him to send her a small smile. He wanted her to talk to him but didn't want to push her. So, he did what he and his father do all the time. Let her know they were there for her no matter what. 

"Remember I'm always here for you Aunt Anna. No matter what you've got me. And you got dad too. I know it's hard and I don't know what you're going through. Just know you are not alone," he tried to soothe her. She was soon nodding her head as a sigh was heard from her. She then gently leant forward placing her head against his. She really appreciated Evan. He was so optimistic, kind, and caring. It made her smile. But her smile widened behind her mask even more hearing what he said next.

"After this mission, why don't I call up dad and all three of us can head to Middle Ground. We can meet at your place cause I know it's your favorite. Then you can tell us some stories or we can watch some movies or something. Have family time together. Just the three of us," Evan planned. He was soon chuckling with a wide smile. As he watched Anna nod quickly. She had  leaned back and clapped her hands together gently to show him her excitement. 

He knew that she was smiling by the look in her glowing eyes. That he's learned to read since he was young. He was happy to see she was excited for the plan, also happy he was able to lift her mood a bit. Nodding his head he agreed. Standing up he still had a hold of her gloved covered hand. He was then pulling her to help her get up from the seat. 

"Alright it's a plan. I'll call -," Evan started. But he was abruptly cut off. Because soon he and Anna were falling back into the seats. Being jostled by the carrier ship shaking. It was as if something had hit the ship. 

Which led everyone to be on guard and alert. Making themselves prepared for anything. Knowing it could be an attack. Evan was quick to grab the radio on his shoulder. Demanding the pilot to tell him what was going on. Asking if the ship was hit or if there was an attack.   

"No attack. It seems we have been hit by something, sir. But umm... there is something we think you should see. We're not sure what it is," The co-pilot stammered unsure and seemed to be a little scared. A sigh escaped Evan before he answered.

"Okay I'm on my way."

"Everyone calm down for now but be on alert. You coming Goldie?" Evan ordered the team. Which he received a nod from many. He was then turning to ask Anna. She was quick to nod and followed him to the cockpit. 

After a few minutes of walking they were in the control area. The pilot and co-pilot seemed to be whispering to each other. While one was pointing outside the window in front of them. It seemed they had stopped the carrier, keeping it hovering in place. Looking at each other Anna and Evan shrugged. 

"What are you pointing at? And why have we stopped? We're still on a mission. We have to get these people back to Sector One," Evan questioned the two with a sigh. As he rubbed his face and crossed his arms. 

He was starting to get frustrated because he wanted to get this mission done with. But he soon stopped when Anna placed a hand on his arm. Turning to her he was met with her golden eyes that were wide behind her mask. She was quick to point as she looked forward. 

Evan was quick to turn to see what she was looking at. All he saw was a bright light in the distance. It looked like a ball of light or an orb. He was then stepping forward with Anna. Both trying to get a closer look. More so Evan. The orb was just hovering there in the middle of the sky in front of the ship. It was as if it were waiting for something.     

"We don't know what it is or what to do. The reading signature from it is off the scale and unknown. And it seems every time we try to move it follows. The jostling you felt was us trying to move away from it. But it hit the ship. Then it started moving around us as if to observe us, to us it's like it's looking for something. We honestly don't know what to do," the pilot explained to Evan, not taking his eyes off the light. 

"Do you think it's something from the Arena?" Evan asked the two. As he leaned forward on the pilot seats. Trying to observe the orb of light. Anna was in a state of wonder as she looked at the orb. So much so she tilted her head in confusion.    

"Like I said sir we don't know what it is. The signature and energy coming off of it is off the scale and unknown. We tried to quickly go through the database, but still can't find a match. We wanted to know what you think we should do. Because it seems we can't move without it following or attacking. And I don't think you want that thing following us to our hidden headquarters. Nor attacking us," the pilot answered. Looking to Evan and Anna for the first time now. 

"Shit," Evan whispered angrily. As he threw his head back and closed his eyes thinking on what to do. Nothing like this has ever happened before. So he was clueless on what to do. He was beginning to get a headache with how much he was thinking. Between this and the mission he was getting tired. He just wanted to get the mission over and have his family day with his father and Aunt. 

But his thoughts were shaken. When he felt a small gloved hand grip his arm and pull him. Opening his eyes Evan looked to see it was Anna and was quick to follow her. After telling the pilots to keep him posted which they agreed to do. Anna was then pulling him just outside the room so they could talk. 

"Let me take a look at it Evan," Anna reasoned with him with her soft voice. She could see that Evan was starting to get slightly overwhelmed. So she wanted to help him. Take some of the weight of his shoulders. Anna knew she was the only one who could get close enough to take a look at the orb of light. She also knew they needed to get past it and fast. So they could finish this mission and get the people who were kidnapped back home. She was pretty much the only one who could try to get this thing out of the way. 

But hearing her Evan was quick to shake his head and disagree with her plan. He didn't want to put her in such danger. Not when they didn't know what it was, and never dealt with something like this before. He didn't want to send her in blind. He didn't want to lose his Aunt. The only real maternal figure in his life now. Evan was about to speak. But was stopped by Anna raising her hand gesturing to him to stay quiet. Which led Evan to sigh and stay quiet as he looked into her golden eyes.

"I only say this because I am the only one who can get close enough to it. And I can do it quickly. We are still on a mission Evan. We need to get these people back quickly. You know the longer we wait and sit here like sitting ducks isn't good. We are losing time. And the chance of someone from the Arena finding us is getting higher. So let me go and take a look at this thing. Let me see what I can do," Anna explained to him softly. It shocked Evan to hear her say so much in one sitting. But he shook the shock away.

Knowing now wasn't the time to think too much about such a thing. Taking in what Anna said Evan grunted in frustration. Because he knew she was right. He was then quick to look at the watch on his wrist. It caused Evan to curse under his breath because of the time. Time seemed to not be on their side right now. 

Turning his gaze on Anna he looked into her shining eyes. Trying to see if he could read her. Trying to see if he could see any emotions. Anna's mask hid her very well. It hid all of her… but her eyes. Even then it was hard to read her still because she could hide her emotions so well. It was more so hard to read her when around people. Though when it was just them or her with his father she showed them her emotions. Showed them her emotions mainly through her eyes. 

Other than that there was nothing else that she really did. As the years went on she talked less, and reached out less and less to them. Which worried him and his father a lot as of lately. But right now he looked into her gleaming eyes. He could see she was tired which worried him. Because it was a look that he sees more and more of over the time he’s spent with her. But he also could see a look of determination in her eyes right now. 

It caused Evan to clench his jaw. Because he knew she was the only one who could do this. Looking at his watch again he growled slightly in frustration. He was then running his hands through his wavy hair and over his face. Before nodding at her. Agreeing with her plan. Looking at her with concern. 

"Okay. You go out there and do what you can as quickly as you can. As you said we are still on a mission. You need to be as quick as possible. I'll make sure we keep an eye on you the whole time. If you want to you can talk to me while out there whenever. And if you need to get out of there, you get out of there. I mean it. We'll find another way if anything," Evan cautioned. Hearing his speech caused Anna to smile behind her mask. But she nodded nonetheless. To let him know she agreed and to ease his worries.  

"Have some faith in your Aunt Goldie. I am around a hundred years old. I got some wisdom in me. And let's not forget I've been doing this longer than you," Anna joked as she pointed at him. Evan chuckled at her before opening his arms. Inviting her into a hug. Smiling behind her mask Anna giggled and walked forward into his arms. Throwing her soft arms around his waist. 

He was quick to wrap his arms around her shoulders. Not wanting to let her go. Sighing Evan was scared for his Aunt. The one he was closest to. The one who has been there for him all his life. He was filled with fear for her because he didn't want to lose her. 

But he knew that she was strong and smart. So he pulled away, letting her go. Having some faith in her. Looking down at her, he smiled with a nod. Kissing her masked cover head quickly before she could push him away. It caused Anna to giggle while Evan chuckled. Both of them were soon shaking their heads at each other. 

Before Evan patted her arm and gestured for her to follow him quickly. Anna nodded and rushed to follow behind him. Both knew they needed to be quick. After a moment she realized he was leading her to a weapons vault room. More specifically hers and his that they shared. 

Soon Anna was grabbing a few gadgets. Her hologram watch, an extra radio, a locator. Then grabbing the two golden guns that Evan held out for her. After making sure they were loaded and giving her extra clips. She rolled her eyes at him and shook her head. Seeing her Evan was quick to voice his worries.

"Hey there's nothing wrong with extra protection. Especially when your goin' in blind. I know you have your powers, magic, or whatever. But just take them to give me peace of mind. Please," Evan pleaded with her. Sighing Anna nodded and placed them in the holsters on her thighs. She never really liked guns or anything of that sort. She preferred her non mechanical weapons. But more so preferred her weapons that were made specifically for her.

Which were her short sword that was strapped to her back. Then her two daggers that were tucked into her long black boots. Then her lasso at her side. Then her knives that were hidden all over her. They were all specially made for only her and her powers. 

So she could use the weapons as a conduit for her magic at times. The weapons could absorb small amounts of her magic’s essences. It made her weapons glow with heat depending on how much magic she stored in said weapon. They could burn through pretty much anything depending on how much magic was stored in them. It was another form of weapon she could use. 

After Anna was done collecting her weapons with Evan's help. She was soon guided to the rear of the ship by Evan. Where the Alpha team was. They were looking at Evan and Anna with confusion. 

"We've seem to have run into a problem. Gold here is gonna go out and take a look at it. We're going to be on stand by so if anything happens. Remember we are still on a mission. So, be ready for anything. Anything can still happen. While she is out we'll be keeping an eye on her from the monitors," Evan explained to them. 

Going over what is happening with them. As he took out a small touch pad and pressed a few buttons on the screen. He swiped the screen and a large hologram monitor soon appeared on the wall. Showing the team what was outside in front of the ship blocking their way still. Many were shocked at the orb. Causing them to ask questions. Which led Evan to answer what he could.  

"Alright that's it with the questions for now we're wasting time. We need to get this over with okay. Goldie, remember what I said. Take a look, do what you can, but if you need to get out of there. Get out," Evan declared. Leading the team to quiet down. He then turned to Anna. 

Who nodded at his request. As she walked past everyone to get to the back opening. Waiting for the hatch to open. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath. Composing herself to fly, and preparing herself for anything. Evan sighed as he walked to the side of the opening reaching for the latch. Looking at her for a moment making sure she was ready.

"You ready?" Evan asked her. Opening her eyes Anna took another deep breath, nodded, and gave him a thumbs up. Seeing her make the gesture he sent her a nod.  

"Alright be careful Aunt Anna. Remember we got our family night coming up,"  Evan reminded her with a smile. Anna giggled and nodded. Before pointing at the latch. Evan was hesitant but reluctantly pulled it. Opening the back of the ship, making wind blow and whip around them. 

Looking at Evan one last time she sent him a small salute. Then before he could say anything else she ran forward and jumped out of the back of the ship. The last thing she heard was the team laugh. As Evan cursed at her for scaring him.

A laugh escaped her as she fell from the ship. But soon she found herself closing her eyes. Anna allowed herself to fall and feel the wind rush past her. Feeling the wind against her skin. She could feel the rush and sensation of falling. And enjoyed the feeling. Letting herself feel free. She wishes she could stay like this for a while longer. But Anna knew she had a task.

So sighing she opened her shining eyes. Feeling the power she had within. Soon a luminescent gold light appeared at her chest. As the light appeared so did the warmth. Feeling it Anna smiled and allowed the feeling to grow and wash over her.

Allowing her powers to engulf her whole. And soon a gold shimmering light surrounded Anna. She then stopped falling and was hovering in the vast sky. With a gold light shimmering around her, that was her magic. Wrapped around her like a blanket. Keeping her safe and in the air. 

Looking around she saw the lights of the city above and below. Noting they would be going off soon because of the time. Then she found the carrier ship above her. She needed to get to the front of the ship, and check out this orb of light. Then try to move it. Nodding to herself she then willed her powers to carry her forward. 

She smiled behind her mask as she flew through the sky. Loving the feeling of soaring through the air. With her task in mind she was quick to reach her destination. Which was the front of the ship. Looking over her shoulder at the front windows of the ship. She could see the pilots, a few of her teammates, and Evan. She shook her head and waved. Before turning and making her way towards the orb of light. She was growing closer and closer to the light. 

Before she stopped abruptly. Her smile falling from her lips as a frown washed over her. The feeling it was giving off. It was a familiar magic. It was a magic she hasn't felt in such a long time from anywhere but herself. Even then her own magic seemed tainted. But this sort of power or magic was pure. And it was from her old life, from her old world Prythian.

"You okay Goldie?"     

Anna heard Evan through her speaker ask. Quickly reaching for the comms on her mask. She was about to answer him and explain what was happening. When suddenly the air shifted around her. She then watched as the orb of light moved closer to her. She was quick to glide and move back but it kept coming closer to her. Anna had no clue what to do. 

She kept slowly moving back more. Trying to keep a distance from the orb of light. That is until she heard it. A loud noise similar to the snapping of a whip and thunder. A noise that haunted her dreams. It was the same noise she heard when she was pushed into that portal by Amarantha. It caused her to stiffen in a state of fear. But the difference now was this time she was hearing it more than once.

She was quick to cover her ears. Feeling overwhelmed by the noises. All she could hear was the whipping noise mixed with loud thunder and Evan on the comms. She was quick to ignore them and pull herself together. And was soon trying to fly away as fast as she could. Anna only got so far when she felt the wind pick up around her. She could feel the magic that was controlling the wind. She felt the force of it against her powers. It caused a scream to escape her as she tried to keep a hold on her powers. As the wind pushed her closer and closer to the orb. 

Tears began to fall from Anna's eyes as she tried to fight against the force. Anna didn't know how to feel. She knew that this may be her way home. And a part of her was hoping for it. But then another part of her was scared and filled with fear. What if this was just another portal to another world she didn't know? What if someone or even Amarantha was just playing with her and was sending her to another world? 

It has been too long for this portal to just come out of nowhere and send her back to Prythian. It seemed too easy. Which meant it was most likely to send her to another world. That was the only thing that was coming to her mind. 

It was what caused her to fight against the current. But it was no use, it was too much. Anna cried because there was nothing she could do to keep from going into the portal. And Anna knew that she needed to stop fighting so she could preserve her magic. So she wasn't defenseless in the next world. 

Looking at the ship one last time. Anna could see her team rushing around through the windows. Seeming to try and find a way to get to her. They were all somewhat a blur to her. But the one she could see clearly was Evan yelling. More tears fell thinking of him. Evan and his father were going to be the only ones she was going to miss from this world. The only ones who she hasn't lost. In that moment she focused on Evan's voice that was coming through the comms. She could hear him yelling frantically through the comms. But the last thing she heard was his cry for her.

"Aunt Annamarie." 

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Re-skimmed through a bunch of Dune Messiah last night because why not and now I am having thoughts:

The thing that sticks with me most is the tone. It's melancholy, it's eerie, it's unsettled and weird. Cannot think of a more pitch-perfect director for it than Denis Villeneuve. He's gonna nail it.

There is...not that much...actual story? Denis has referred to it in interviews as "a small book" and I'm like my guy it is 350 pages. But there are actually not that many plot beats. It's just that every. single. scene. is WILDLY overwritten. The real challenge of adapting Dune is not the giant worms or the dense complicated worldbuilding or the fact that actors have to say the name "Duncan Idaho" repeatedly with a straight face. It's that there are pages and pages and PAGES of internal monologue that have to be externalized somehow for film.

After a re-skim my gut instinct for "how much story goes in a feature film" is that if you just wrote out the dialogue and action that happens in every scene in the book in screenplay format you'd end up with...maybe about an hour of material? Which is great, actually, because it means there is room to add stuff. Like a whole new independent plotline for Chani if they decide to do that.

It may seem insane to add things to an adaptation of what's notoriously one of the wordiest series in classic sci-fi but it's worth remembering that they added quite a bit to Dune Part Two. Most of the first hour of the movie--almost everything before the worm ride except for Jessica drinking the Water of Life--is stuff that isn't in the book. And it's the best part of the movie essential to making the movie work as well as it does. Yes, they also cut elements from both parts (the dinner scene, the whole plotline where Gurney thinks Jessica is a Harkonnen spy, Thufir Hawat's fate, Leto II the Elder, murder toddler Alia) but I understand why each of those elements was cut or changed in the service of cinematic storytelling.

There's an interview (can't remember which one) with Jon Spaihts, the other co-writer of the scripts along with Denis, where he talks about how Dune is like a stage play, with so many of what would be the big action set pieces happening off-page. I kept thinking about that comparison while reviewing Dune Messiah because in addition to the scenes that do exist being wordy and internal as fuck, an absolutely insane list of major events/reveals/emotionally significant moments happen off-page. The list of things that we don't actually see in the main action of the story, that we're only told about after they happen, includes:

Chani finding out Irulan has been secretly dosing her with birth control for YEARS

People trying to capture a sandworm and take it off planet

Chani and Paul finding out Chani is pregnant after 12 years of trying to conceive

Paul flying an ornithopter carrying his extremely-about-to-go-into-labor partner while blind

CHANI DYING (first time reading I did NOT know this was coming and damn near threw my Kindle across the room at the way the information was delivered)

Alia executing a bunch of people including a Bene Gesserit Reverend Mother

Paul walking into the desert at the end

You could add all these moments into a scene-for-scene film adaptation of the book and probably still have room to add more material.

The other thing that jumps out is that Paul doesn't really...govern...much. Like there's this whole subgenre of post-Dune/Dune Messiah-era fic that's just some combination of Paul, Chani, Irulan and sometimes Feyd traipsing around the palace having feelings while vague politics happens in the background, but I forgot that Dune Messiah is actually kinda like that??

There is a whole thread of Paul feeling kind of abstractly bad about being Space Hitler but he does not, in fact, actually do anything about it. And like yes both bureaucracies and religious movements can grow to have a life of their own that seems beyond the control of any one person. But also my dude you are the Emperor of the Known Universe. Someone is signing those space checks for the Endless War budget. You are not powerless here.

The one thing that really, clearly drives Paul to actively do things in the plot is not feeling guilty about having unleashed catastrophic religious war on the universe. It is protecting his family. Chani, Alia, his unborn children, and you could probably throw in Duncan by the end. That is what motivates him to act at key moments, and to want to hold on to power. And hey, y'know, if I'd experienced almost everyone I'd ever known getting murdered in a single night, I would probably get a bit intense about that too! It makes sense from a character point of view!

I'm very curious to see how these threads interweave with each other in the film, because the Villeneuve films put a lot of emphasis on Paul's agency and the fact that he may be constrained by shitty circumstances thousands of years in the making, but he still makes choices within that context. I can't see the narrative allowing film!Paul to get away with the same Poor Little Dictator routine as in the book. There are a few ways they could play this but I think the most interesting one is kinda the way they started going at the end of Part Two. Which is that as soon as you start reaching for that kind of power, then power becomes its own end and you will end up doing increasingly horrific things to maintain it. I think it would be quite interesting if the film shows us Paul not just being like "woe is me" but actively choosing to make the world worse because his trauma-driven fear of losing the people he loves makes him cling ever more desperately to power for its own sake.

If they went this route I think it would make Paul's decision at the end hit even harder. FWIW I actually really like Paul walking off into the desert at the end of the book. I think it brings things full circle with his relationship to the Fremen and creates this beautiful arc going back to the duel with Jamis. He first won a place among the Fremen through respecting their customs even though he really did not want to fight and kill someone he had no beef with. And by respecting the Fremen custom of the blind walking off into the desert, he proves himself to be fully Fremen and protects his children not by making them heirs to the throne but by making them Fremen.

And yeah, to a modern audience here on Earth it can look like "Paul conveniently fucks off and doesn't have to raise his newly-motherless children." And we can have a whole discussion about the unexamined ableism of the idea of someone who's gone blind voluntarily choosing death so as to "not be a burden" on their community. But neither of those readings is really the point here. Within the logic of Fremen cultural values, where the survival of the group as a whole is more important than the life of any one individual ("your water belongs to the tribe" etc.) Paul's choice is a willing and intentional self-sacrifice (see also: fedaykin) that wins him huge respect. There's a line in the book about Paul that's like "He would be one of them forever now" and damn if that didn't give me shivers. Like!! The political-symbolic implications!!! Which maybe I'm particularly attuned to because I just wrote a whole fic about what does it mean for an outsider to become Fremen but hmm something something Paul's final* act not being an exercise of Imperial power but an expression of kinship with an oppressed group and that being the thing that's needed to keep his family safe even if he is not physically present with them...IT IS RICH SYMBOLIC TERRITORY.

(*Yes yes I know about events in the next book. Shush.)

This kind of stuff is why I tend to think Chani may start out in a very different place in the story but the end will still be pretty close to what's in the book. It's too thematically powerful and tragic to go any other way.

But also...if they change things around enough that she is still alive at the end of the movie...I won't be sad about it.

[salbei-141]

Late night doubts (Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Reader)

Masterlist

word count: 1.1k

warnings: 18+, violence, death, organised crime, cartel, military, guilt, shame, fluff, etc.

a/n: rare update incoming. i am alive, surprise, surprise!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Soap were led side by side on his bed - you did this every now and again, seeking comfort in each other's warmth and words; sometimes it was just silent between you both with some music lulling the both of you in the background - sometimes all you needed was the comfort of knowing someone was there.

Tonight was one of those nights where soft music was playing, echoing around you both - you didn't pay much heed to it though, it was just there to fill the void in the room. Your mind had been going haywire recently, your last mission had you questioning your position in not only Taskforce 141 but in the military in general. You were the team's lookout, consistently above them somewhere - sniper following your team's movements, and the targets. You had failed before - sometimes obstructions occurred, that was apart of the job, you weren't able to save everybody all the time - you learn to accept it.

The most recent mission involved the taskforce entering a private compound that was ran by cartel members in South America. Like usual, you were perched up in your own little manmade hideout - surrounded by whatever greenery you could cover with. The team were ordered to enter the compound, retrieve the necessary data, and exit the compound. It was specified to be a quiet in and out job with zero distractions, and zero noise. It had been going well, you had been following your team - watching as they passed by windows until they left your sights for good, and then took watch over the guards around the compound. You were gaining an idea on their patterns for where each guard patrolled - ready to assist the team from high ground when they inevitably had to exit. However, it was one of those missions...things just didn't go to plan, and you didn't know if you'd ever get over it.

"Soap?" you needed to voice your thoughts to someone before you drove yourself mad in the coming days.

"Yeah?" you felt as he moved beside you to look directly at you, but you kept your eyes trained on his ceiling.

"You ever regret this? Like the job, y'know?" You could feel the regret instantly invade every nerve in your body - you should've just stayed silent.

"Aye, sometimes. Why love?" you were surprised by his answer - you were expecting some sort of disappointment from him for ever doubting your position in serving your country.

"Just the last mission...I-" you let out a sigh, not quite knowing how to talk about this, while simultaneously not wanting to talk about this at all, "it's just that the last mission - I've never been put in that position before, never trained on how to make a call like that."

"It's the military y/n - you can only be trained for so much before you're thrown into the unknown, and we both know it happens more often than not. You made the right call though.", you fell into silence, mulling over what he had said.

Unknowingly, tears had gathered in your eyes, and you felt as it trailed down your cheeks, hot against your skin. As you made quick movements to wipe them away, Soap turned to look at you, caught off guard by your sudden movements.

"Y/N?" You didn't turn to face him.

His hand slowly came up to the side of your face and he turned your head gently to face him. His heart felt constrained within his chest at your reddened eyes that were trying so hard to hold back tears that you had been bottling up since the mission.

"I don't know how to live with myself anymore Soap," you sounded so weak - he'd never heard you sound so small and unsure about the future.

He pulled you into his chest tightly; if he was being honest with himself there wasn't much he could say to comfort you. He had been tortured and looked death itself in the eyes, but never had he had to make a call like the one you had.

You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face into his chest. You felt yourself start to crumble more within his hold until you fully let yourself sob. You couldn't remember the last time you had cried like this, and you'd hoped you wouldn't have to again.

Nothing was said in the time Soap held you close to him - he hadn't moved in 40 minutes, just held you close while he ran his hands up and down your back and occasionally brushed his fingers through your hair as you sobbed into him.

Your crying had turned into soft sniffles. Your mind still felt muddled, unsure of where to go from here.

"Love?", he sounded so soft as he spoke in your ear - he cared for you like no one else.

You lifted your head slightly to look at him and whispered - your throat feeling tender, "Johnny".

He gently smiled at you and placed a small kiss on your forehead, "What if you took leave? Take time to think about what you want".

You looked at him confused, your life revolved around the military and as much as you were questioning your position within it, the thought of taking time off was foreign to you.

"I don't think I could handle being alone Johnny", truth be told you'd rather be deployed on another mission immediately than spend time alone with yourself. You haven't been alone for years - the military was like family to you - there was always someone around, be it Gaz, Price, Ghost, or most commonly Soap.

He caressed your face softly, "I won't leave you lass, we can both take leave".

"No Johnny. They need us...they ne-"

"They don't need us y/n. Price will make sure we get it off, come on...you need it - let me look after you..." he looked at you desperately, begging with his eyes for you to agree.

You stared and slowly nodded. "You promise you won't leave me?", it was a silly question, but you couldn't bare the thought of being alone any time soon.

He smiled down at you and spoke softly, "I promise to never leave you - I don't think I could anyway", your cheeks flushed lightly - his eyes stared at you with adoration.

You tried to muster a small smile for him. Johnny placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, pulling you against him again, "I'll speak with Price in the mornin' love, go to sleep, aye?".

You nodded silently against him and allowed yourself to close your eyes, exhausted and in need of sleep. He was like your safety net - nothing could hurt you as long as Johnny was nearby.

Soap watched as your face relaxed and your eyes shut as your breathing started to even out. He pulled you impossibly closer and felt you nuzzle into him as he ran his fingers through your hair until the both of you eventually fell into a deep sleep.

[loweffortopinions]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard

Play Time: 70 hours and going because I like to hurt myself?

Platform: EA Pro Play 

Rating: 4/10

(Moved this Review from my other account because I can't mix art and text)

Environments 

I had a few oh, that’s pretty moments, but overall I found it hard to feel immersed. The cities are nice I guess and detailed, but they lack distinct, memorable qualities. 

A city like Minrathous has the potential to be an exciting showcase of magic woven into everyday life. Mages using spells to transport goods or to perform mundane tasks. I was also looking forward to see a clear divide between magic users and non-magic users, as previous games have implied that Minrathous is Ferelden in reverse. Instead, NPCs feel static, and there is nothing new or interesting done with the magic. For a place built up as legendary in previous games... Minrathous just doesn't deliver. Further, you only get to explore one district, so there is no contrast between richer and poorer areas. And Treviso? It's pretty... but I mostly remember pointy roofs and ziplines.

Character Design

Faces and hair are a big step up from previous games, and armors are varied and nice to look at. But it comes at the cost that it feels overdone, leaning into flashy, cartoony territory. I ran around in my starting armor for half the game because nothing really fit my character.

The companions suffer from this too to some extent. Darin’s open-chested armor seems impractical for a warrior, Neve, supposedly from Docktown, looks more like an aristocrat from Orlais than her background suggests. Bellara’s design is fine, but aside from her vallaslin, she doesn’t seem particularly Dalish. Emmerich and Harding look fine, especially in their camp outfits, which I prefer for most characters.

Combat and Gameplay 

I’ll be honest—I eventually turned the difficulty down to story mode just to get through the game. The combat didn’t do it for me: repetitive enemy hordes that seem randomly placed, limited abilities, and dodging and rolling mechanics that don’t feel very engaging.

Aside from a few setpieces and two boss fights, no encounter stood out. It’s not a particularly hard game, it just got tedious after a few hours.

Another complaint is that every class now feels overly magical. Since the lore around magic is such a key part of the series, this really rubbed me the wrong way. 

Story and World-Building 

Starting with the biggest issue: Veilguard’s main story is a weak.

In Inquisition, even if Corypheus wasn’t the most compelling villain, there was still a sense of growth as you built up your organization and connected with companions. In Veilguard, it feels like they stripped away what worked in previous games and just kept Corypheus. And the worst part? I miss Corypheus. At least he had a booming voice and some interesting lines. Veilguard has none of that.

The villains in this… honestly, where to start? Rather than feeling meaningful, they’re just names repeated so often it feels like the game worries I’ll forget them. Villains aside events unfold without much connection, leaving me questioning why things happen the way they do.

Why are we choosing these allies?

Why am I stuck doing busy work for them while the world is supposedly ending?

But who cares! It's not like your allies really matter. Rook is a one-man army after all. If we’d had them instead of the Hero of Ferelden, the Blight would’ve ended in Ostagar—and every named NPC would’ve survived, including whoever slay the Archdemon. 

Character and Companion Dynamics 

While presented as experts, they rarely get the chance to demonstrate their skills. Harding sometimes provides useful contacts, and Emmerich occasionally shows his abilities, but beyond that, companions often feel like tropes with minimal growth or depth.

For instance, one character is the “unwilling father,” but we never see him grapple with it genuinely—he just says it. Others are similarly shallow: the socially awkward “nerd,” the “noir detective” with a heavy burden, and the “tortured assassin” who doesn’t seem all that tortured. Insights rarely go deeper than quirks, like loving coffee or fish, which get mentioned repeatedly without further development. 

Previous games built strong, opinionated characters who added depth to the world, but here, companions are lacking. Banter is shallow, with little conflict or chemistry. I’ve never played a Dragon Age game where I wanted to skip side quests or companion quests, yet here, I actually did.

I honestly prefer Andromedas cast over this on. Never thought I'd say that but here we are.

Main Character and Roleplaying

Rook’s voice actor; I love em'... which only makes the limited dialogue options more frustrating. I tried to play Rook as a practical, no-nonsense character, but the writing kept steering me back to a softer, more agreeable tone.

If you’re aiming for a tougher or more forceful personality, you're out of luck. If you plan to play be prepared for Rook to come across as a diplomat. Further, you are forced to agree with everyone, and never get to question them or their motives.

So... maybe don't get this if you're into Baldurs Gate 3 and player agency?

Ending Words 

If you’re like me, and the highlights of previous games have been the banter, character depth, and exploring the world and lore, you’ll likely be disappointed. Honestly, I’d even recommend skipping it. Then again, I've seen people say the opposite. So what do I know?

No matter what you do, I’d suggest waiting for a sale. It’s not worth the full price. 

Extra shit

Combat and Gameplay 

There’s the matter of the quest marker, which gives you tunnel vision which distract you from the enviorments.

The loot feels out of place due to its flashy animation. I started skipping loot in certain areas because it felt inappropriate and slowed down the pacing.

You'll fast travel a lot. And I don't mean in a big open area. It's more of a design flaw: Fast Travel to the Lighthouse to talk to a companion. Fast travel to a location to start that companion's quest, walk to said spot to start the quest. Repeat 5 times.

Story and World-Building 

The ending to its credit, was nicely paced and visually strong. If the rest of the game had been more like that, it would’ve been a decent experience. 

The Shadow Dragons, the Crows, the Wardens—all these factions make sense to be here but do nothing meaningful for the story or the worldbuilding.

Even dramatic scenes lack memorable moments. For example, there is a prison escape that's visually pretty but otherwise lacks substance. The person you rescue has supposedly been there a year, but nothing about their appearance or behavior reflects this. There’s no memorable dialogue, nothing deeper—it’s all surface-level.

I personally think Bioware are cowards for only letting you side with an anti-slave organisation. Come on: This isn't the Teviner you've built towards for 3 games! *shakes fist*

[artforinfinity]

I did the thing

I am genuinely shocked that I didn't mess this up I thought it was gonna be a disaster

Reblogs appreciated <3

Close ups + extra stuff under cut

Close ups

Concept art yaay

And finally the sheet I used to regulate the saturation of the watercolor because I didn't know how else to do it, I just think it looks kinda neat

Ok. I hate watercolor. I hate it less now that when I started but uhhh still not a fan. Yes this was a school project, cringe is dead I am a free man.

[kitsunespawz]

Morning on the Polar Tang

Background and canon compliant version:

[territorial-utopia]

Huzzah! It's birthday time! I'm slowly accumulating more and more things I like (latest additions this vest I made and a travel typewriter! Still need to fix the latter one though)

Sure has been a year.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

when you mentioned in your tags that there was hardly any laughingstock i didn't believe you at first, but holy shit ur right. YOU AND @krasytoonz MADE ME INTO A LAUGHINGSTOCK BELIEVER. I WILL PAY TRIBUTE TO THESE SKRUNGLY FUCKERS SOON, MARK MY WORDS *shakes fist into the void*

no yeah Seriously though its just us out here, fighting for our lives in the fucking Trenches. in ten years someone is gonna use the word 'laughingstock' casually in conversation and im gonna have War Flashbacks

[kenobihater]

of all the star wars movies, which of them do y'all 1) enjoy the most 2) consider the best quality and 3) think you've rewatched the most. add your answers in the reblogs or replies, i'm genuinely curious how much of an overlap there is within everyone's three answers. mine don't overlap at all! they're revenge of the sith, empire strikes back, and the force awakens :^)