#their lines are particularly interesting but

[reigns-devotee]

Paring: Roman Reigns x Fem!reader

Warnings: language, p in v, oral (male receiving), body fluids, smut smut and more smut, MINORS DNI

Summary: He's been your bodyguard for two years now. two years of pent up frustration on both ends. As your suppressed feelings ignite, you must face the dangerous consequences of crossing professional boundaries.

Word Count: 3,678

The bass thumped relentlessly through the crowded club, vibrating through the soles of your feet and into your chest as you sipped your cocktail. Neon lights painted the room in shifting hues, and the air buzzed with electric energy. This was your night. Your chance to slip away from the polished façade of your public life, the endless rules, and the constant vigilance of your ever-present shadow. Tonight, you craved freedom—a taste of life without the suffocating weight of expectations.  

But Roman was there.

He always was. His towering frame lingered near the bar, a monolith of power and authority. His perfectly tailored suit molded to his body, the dark fabric clinging to every hard line of his physique. The sharp angles of his face—his high cheekbones, square jaw, and intense eyes—cast him as both protector and menace. He didn’t blend in; he didn’t even try. Roman stood apart, his presence magnetic, commanding attention without effort.  

You knew why he was there. To keep you safe. It was his job, his obligation, his duty. But after two years of his smoldering glances, his clipped commands, and his unshakable presence, you couldn’t take it anymore.  

Tonight, you were going to live.  

So you’d chosen the dress—that dress. Sleek, shimmering, and designed to turn heads. And it worked. Dominik Mysterio��s gaze had been glued to you since the moment he saw you. His flirtations were harmless, his smile easy, and his touch light when he brushes your arm while talking to you. You didn’t care that you weren’t particularly interested in him. He was fun, simple, uncomplicated. For a moment, you felt like a normal woman—not a celebrity under constant scrutiny.  

But Roman saw everything.  

You felt the burn of his gaze across the room, sharper than the strongest drink. He wasn’t subtle, not when it came to you. Every time Dominik leaned in, Roman’s jaw tightened. When Dominik dared to touch your wrist, Roman’s grip on his glass became white-knuckled. By the time Dominik invited you to the dance floor, Roman was already pushing through the crowd, parting people like waves with a single look.  

You barely made it to the center of the floor before Roman reached you.  

"Enough," his voice cut through the music, low and deadly, as he wrapped his fingers around your elbow. His touch was firm, unyielding, and filled with authority that made your stomach flip.  

“Roman!” you hissed, yanking your arm from his grip, but it was useless. He leaned in, his lips brushing close to your ear as he whispered, "We’re leaving. Now."  

The command in his tone left no room for argument. His hand settled on the small of your back, steering you through the crowd as if he owned the place. No one dared stop him.  

The ride home was unbearable. Roman didn’t speak, but the air between you crackled with tension. His jaw was tight, his fists resting on his thighs as if restraining himself. You, on the other hand, were fuming.  

When you finally stepped inside your home, your anger boiled over. Tossing your purse onto the counter, you spun on your heel, glaring up at him. "What the hell was that?" you demanded.  

Roman closed the door with a quiet click, his broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the world. His expression was thunderous, his dark eyes sharp as a blade.  

"You know exactly what it was," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.  

You didn’t back down. Turning on your heel, you stormed upstairs, your heels clicking against the hardwood. You made it to your room, determined to slam the door in his face, but it stopped short. Roman’s shoe was wedged in the gap.  

You whirled around, your chest heaving with anger. "You know I’m a grown-ass woman, right?" you snapped, yanking off your heels and tossing them aside.  

Roman stepped into your space, his presence filling the room. "We need to talk," he said, his voice deceptively calm, though his eyes burned with something primal.  

“No, we don’t,” you shot back, crossing your arms.  

But Roman didn’t back down. He never did. Instead, he stepped closer, closing the distance between you. His towering frame loomed over you, his gaze pinning you in place.  

“You think I’m going to stand by while some punk puts his hands on you?” he demanded, his voice low and cutting.  

Your breath caught, your pulse racing as you glared back. “Dominik is harmless. He’s a friend.”  

Roman scoffed, his eyes narrowing. “He wasn’t looking at you like a friend. And you damn well know it.”  

His words hung in the air, heavy and charged. You hated the way your body reacted to him—the way his possessiveness both infuriated and thrilled you.  

“And what if he wasn’t?” you challenged, lifting your chin. “You’re my bodyguard, Roman. Not my keeper.”  

For a moment, his jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck flexing. Then he leaned in, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine.  

“You’re right,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours, dark and dangerous. “I am your bodyguard. Which means it’s my job to protect you—from threats, from danger... and from making reckless decisions with men who don’t deserve you.”  

Your heart pounded, the air between you crackling like a live wire. This wasn’t about Dominik anymore. This was about you. About Roman. About two years of tension finally reaching a breaking point.  

You opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off with a look so intense it stole the words from your lips. “You can’t keep pushing me, sweetheart,” he warned, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “One day, you’re not going to like what happens when I push back.”  

The room felt suffocating, the tension between you and Roman thick enough to cut with a knife. You pulled off your earrings and set them down on the dresser with deliberate precision, your movements sharp and filled with barely restrained anger. "Maybe I’m tired of living the life I should and not the life I could," you snapped, your voice cutting through the charged silence like a whip.

Roman leaned back against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, his towering presence as unrelenting as his glare. His brow arched, and he let out a dry, humorless scoff. "So you decide to do that with *Dominik fucking Mysterio*?" he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain.  

You turned to face him fully, fire blazing in your eyes. "You don’t even know him!" you shouted, your voice rising.  

Roman pushed off the doorframe, closing the space between you in two long strides. "I work with him!" he barked, his voice thunderous, echoing through the room.  

You square your shoulders, refusing to back down despite the sheer intensity of his presence. "Please! Every time I so much as smile at a man, you’re there, staring daggers at him like you want to rip his head off!" you accused, your chest heaving.  

His jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle ticking beneath the skin, his fists curling at his sides. "Why is that, Mr. Reigns?" you pressed, your voice dripping with venom. "Two years ago, you told me you don’t get involved with your clients’ personal lives."  

He didn’t respond, but the tension in the room grew palpable, the air charged with unspoken words. His jaw continued to tick, the movement rhythmic and ominous, like the countdown of a bomb ready to detonate.  

Mistake number one.

"Maybe," you said, your tone turning sharp and competitive, "you want to take their place." You stepped closer, your eyes challenging as you tilted your head, studying him. "Do you want me, Mr. Reigns?" you asked, your voice a sultry tease that belied the storm raging in your chest. "The celebrity singer and the professional wrestler-slash-bodyguard?"  

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, but the haunting look in your eyes betrayed you. Mistake number two.  

Roman’s dark eyes flicked over your face, his expression unreadable, yet there was something dangerous in the way his gaze lingered. He stepped closer, his sheer size towering over you, the heat radiating off him like a furnace. "Do you want to stop talking now, Ms. Y/L/N?" he asked, his voice low, velvety, and laced with warning. "And be very careful about what you say next."  

"Why?" you countered, your voice defiant as you stepped closer, until the tips of your toes nearly brushed his. The heat between you was almost unbearable, your breath hitching as you stared up at him, daring him to make the next move.  

"I’m not afraid of you," you whispered, your hand moving to his chest, your palm pressing against the hard muscle beneath his shirt. "Everyone else might be, but I’m not."  

Mistake number three.  

The gasp barely escaped your throat before you found yourself spun around, your chest pressed against the cool surface of the dresser. The movement was so quick, so precise, you barely had time to register it before you felt Roman’s large hand grip your chin, forcing your head back. His other hand closed firmly around your throat—not enough to hurt, but enough to send a shiver down your spine as he asserted complete control.  

You couldn’t suppress the small gasp that left your lips when you felt him behind you, his cock pressing hard and insistent against your ass. He was furious, but it was a fire that burned hot and electric, one that ignited something deep within you that you couldn’t ignore.  

His breath seared against your ear, each exhale sending a shiver coursing down your spine. Roman leaned in closer, his towering frame pressing against your back, his grip on your throat firm but controlled—a reminder of the raw strength he held in reserve. His lips brushed the shell of your ear as his voice rumbled low, dark, and dripping with unrestrained intensity.  

"You wanted my attention, sweetheart," he growled, his words slow and deliberate, the kind that made your pulse race and your knees tremble. "Well, now you have it."  

The room felt smaller, suffocating under the weight of his presence. His fingers flexed around your throat, not painful but enough to let you know who was in charge. His other hand splayed against the dresser beside you, trapping you in place as he loomed over you, his heat sinking into your skin.  

"I do want you," he admitted, his tone dipping lower, rougher, each word laced with unspoken restraint. "Not in the way I should." His eyes flicked up to meet yours in the mirror, the raw hunger in them making your breath hitch. "I don’t want to make love to you. I don’t want to give you some fairytale ending, some sweet little dream you tell yourself at night."  

Your lips parted, your chest rising and falling as his words washed over you, as unrelenting as the man himself.  

"I want to fuck you," he continued, his jaw clenching as though saying the words aloud was a battle within himself. "Hard. Animalistic. I want to make you feel what you do to me every time you push, every time you mouth off, every time you so much as look at another man."  

His voice grew rougher, deeper, the restrained violence in his tone matching the tight grip of his hand. "I want to yank up that tiny little dress of yours," he growled, "and pound into you so hard you won’t be able to walk for weeks. I want you to feel me everywhere, every time you move, every time you breathe."  

Your eyes met him again in the mirror, dark and smoldering with desire. His hand tightened slightly around your throat, and the control in his grip sent a dangerous thrill down your spine.  

"But I can’t have that," he said, his jaw working as though it physically pained him to admit it. "I shouldn’t have that."  

Your breath hitched, and his gaze hardened as though daring you to test him further.  

"But if you don’t stop looking at me like that," he hissed, his voice dropping to a whisper that felt more like a threat, "I might just take it anyway."  

His grip tightened for a brief moment, his jaw ticking as he held your gaze through the mirror, the tension between you poised to snap like a taut wire. "And trust me," he murmured, his voice low and lethal, "if I do, I won’t stop until there’s nothing left of you to give to anyone else."  

With a commanding tone, you instruct, “So do it.” In response, he firmly presses his hand against the back of your neck, forcefully guiding you downwards until you are kneeling before him. You offer no resistance as he hastily unfastens his pants, freeing his erect cock. “Tap me if it becomes too much for you,” he murmurs. You give a slight nod of acknowledgement, then part your lips. Slowly, he eases his thick, rigid cock into your waiting mouth, allowing you time to accommodate his full length.

Small, whimpers escape your mouth as he slowly thrusts his cock into your mouth, over and over. The sensation is both foreign and overwhelming. Your breathing grows rugged and uneven, punctuated by the rhythmic intrusion. He tightens his grip on your hair, using it to gently guide your head, maintaining control of the pace and depth of his movements.

"Look at me," he commands, his voice low and authoritative. Summoning your focus, you lift your gaze to meet his, your lashes now wet with a mixture of tears and saliva. Your eyes, once filled with anger, have taken on a look of submissive obedience. "Good girl," he praises, his tone laced with a hint of possessive pride. "You're going to take all of it for me, all of it," he growls, his hips quickening their pace. "And then, I'm gonna fuck you, so hard," he admits. 

You watch him intently, captivated by the raw, primal energy that radiates from his every movement. His expression is one of intense focus, brow furrowed in concentration as he begins to pick up the pace, his thrusts becoming more forceful and unrelenting. The sensations washing over you are a dizzying blend of discomfort and pleasure, your body and mind struggling to reconcile the conflicting emotions.

He lets out groans, and he takes one last long thrust, “fuck!”. He pulls out of your mouth and as soon as he does, his cum splashes ropes onto your face. 

Roman’s hand shot out, tangling roughly in your hair and pulling you to your feet with an almost effortless strength. The sting at your scalp sent a gasp spilling from your lips, but you didn’t dare look away from him. His dark eyes burned with a feral intensity, pinning you in place as though he could see right through you, see every thought racing through your mind.  

“P-please, Roman—” you stammered, your voice trembling, a mix of desperation and anticipation spilling out before you could stop it.  

He cut you off with a low growl, his grip tightening just enough to make you gasp again. “I’m gonna give you exactly what you want,” he promised, his voice deep and laced with a dangerous edge that sent a shiver down your spine.  

Before you could process his words, he grabbed the hem of your dress and tore it clean off, the fabric shredding in his hands like it was nothing. The cool air hit your bare skin, making you shiver, but the heat radiating off Roman’s body was all-consuming, overwhelming every other sensation.  

“Roman—” you started, but his sharp, commanding tone cut through your words like a blade.  

“Don’t speak unless I tell you to,” he ordered, his voice steady but harsh, a warning in every syllable.  

You swallowed hard, nodding slightly as he moved with deliberate precision, his hands now at the waistband of your pants. He didn’t bother with gentleness or finesse—he yanked them down in one swift motion, leaving you standing before him in nothing but your underwear.  

His eyes raked over you, dark and predatory, his chest rising and falling as though he was barely keeping himself in check. “You want my attention?” he said, his voice dangerously calm as he stepped closer. “Well, now you’ve got it. Let’s see if you can handle it.”  

Without warning, he pushed you forward, guiding you down until you were on your hands and knees in front of him. The hard floor pressed against your palms, but the sharp thrum of adrenaline coursing through your veins drowned out everything else.  

“You look good like this,” he muttered, his tone low and almost to himself, as though the sight of you was breaking through his carefully constructed control. “Right where you belong.”  

His hand pressed firmly against the small of your back, forcing you to arch beneath his touch. The position made you feel exposed, vulnerable, but the heat in his gaze only made you shiver with anticipation.  

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, his voice a taunting growl. “You wanted it so badly you had to throw yourself at some boy to get it?”  

You turned your head slightly, your lips parting to respond, but he was already shaking his head, his fingers tightening against your skin. “Don’t even try to deny it,” he snapped, his tone brooking no argument. “You knew exactly what you were doing, and now…”  

His hand slid from your back to your hip, his grip firm but not painful, a silent promise of what was to come. “…you’re going to face the consequences.”  

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest as his words hung heavy in the air. Roman’s presence behind you was overwhelming, his dominance filling every corner of the room. And in that moment, you knew there was no going back.  

Roman’s large hands moved with an agonizing slowness, tracing over your hips before curling around the waistband of your panties. His fingers dug in just slightly, his grip a silent promise of what was to come. Then, in one fluid motion, he pulled them down, the soft fabric sliding down your thighs and pooling at your knees. The cool air hit your bare skin, making you shiver, though it wasn’t from the temperature.  

“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, filled with a dark heat that made your stomach twist. “So wet, sweetheart.”  

His words sent a bolt of electricity through you, your breath catching as his eyes darkened, locking onto the undeniable evidence of your arousal. You tried to steady yourself, but your arms trembled beneath you, the weight of his gaze almost too much to bear.  

“Roman…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, a mix of need and hesitation lacing the syllables.  

He let out a low growl, the sound vibrating in the space between you. He positions the head of his cock at the entrance of your slick heat.

Your heart raced, and you couldn’t stop yourself from pushing back just slightly, your body aching for more of his touch.

He stilled behind you, and for a moment, the only sound in the room was your ragged breathing. Then he let out a low, dangerous chuckle, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear.  

“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he rasped, his tone both a warning and a promise.

“Roman…” you tried again, but this time, he cut you off with a sharp thrust into your cunt.  

“Quiet,” he snapped, though there was no true anger in his voice—only a deep, simmering hunger that made your pulse race. “I’ve let you run that mouth of yours long enough tonight. Now, you’re going to listen.”  

You moaned hard, your body trembling as you felt him bury himself inside of you, his hips slapping against your ass.  

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he murmured, his tone softer now but no less commanding. “You wanted my attention. You wanted me to lose control. Congratulations, sweetheart. You got it.”  

Your heart pounded in your chest as he destroyed you, his presence overwhelming. “You’re so.. Big,” you whimper, your mouth dropping open with each thrust. 

You grab onto his ankles for support as he continues to thrust into you. “Fuckkk, youre so fucking warm for me,” he moans. His moans made you wetter and more slippery.

“Th-thank you,” you whimper. He continues to fuck your tight hole as you squirm under him. He speeds up and his thrusts become more sloppier and animalistic. He took his time fucking you crazy, and that was enough to drive you over the edge. 

“I know you like to play with that little pussy when you're alone… in your room, fuckk,” he moans. The room filled with the sounds of your wetness and the sound of him crashing into you over and over again. He was balls deep into your cunt, and the only thing that was able to escape your lips were your muffled cries. 

The feeling became more powerful and you became more needy, pushing your ass back to meet him halfway with every thrust. “Thats it, sweetheart, just like that,” he moans in agony. “Im sorry, im- ugh,” you could barely get your words right, but he understood. 

He hiked your hips up so now your feet wasnt touching the ground. “Gonna cum for me? Hm?” he asks. “Y-yes, please let me cum,” you beg. He slides his hand towards you clit, rubbing it crazily. “Cum for me, sweetheart,” and with that being said, you came. You came so hard your arms lost balance and you fell to the floor. 

Despite all of his dominance, he still cared pick you up. He carried you to the shower, wanting to get you cleaned up. You looked up at him through your now drenched face and was about to speak. But, he placed a finger on your lips, “i got you, sweetheart.”

[jam3sacaster]

“I’m a heartless man at worst, babe. And a helpless one at best.”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

Title derived from Candy by Paolo Nutini.

18+ FANFIC. Short work. Reader character aged at 21. / Rupert’s most solemn declaration of his most pure form — love.

Torrential downpour sullied the ground and envoked the rich, earthy aroma that had become so comforting after a particularly painful night attending the latest of Maud's ostentacious balls at The Priory. You had spent the night avoiding disapproving glares from covetous ladies in much too-tight cocktail dresses — providing a grim reminder of all that they want, and all they once were. An empty husk of a magnificent woman — ink black locks of coiffed hair spilling down your back and cherry lipstick applied perfectly enough to hide the ident of your teeth on your lips.

Once exuberant, your all-encompassing pining for Rupert Campbell-Black had stripped you of the glint in your eye, spending many a night beside him in bed, sexually satisified but yearning for a feeling much stronger than the one of him inside you. His chiselled bone structure, the intoxicating fragrance of his aftershave — but more so, his hunger to fulfil your any need and the way his tender touch provided tranquility to the rhythmic thumping in your head.

Now standing briefly under the porch, you sparked a cigarette, the amber glow of the small blaze providing the only light in the garden. You're not an avid smoker but after encountering Sarah Stratton, among a string of others, desparately offer themselves to Rupert, you most definitely deserved one. The back door pushed open, followed by Rupert trailing outside, still chuckling from a passing joke. His jaw instantaneously softened at the sight of you. Thick tears drew cold lines down your blotchy, rouge cheeks and you sniffed noiselessly, taking a small drag of your cigarette with an unsteady hand.

"Oh God, angel. What's wrong?" Rupert questioned, snatching the cigarette from your fingers and taking his own elongated, ravenous drag from it. "Nothing." You lied in response, stepping backwards from the porch and onto the appallingly paved pathway. The wintery raindrops saturated your ivory linen dress and trasformed your mascara into inky tears. "What are you doing? You are getting soaked, don't be ridiculous." Rupert spat, reaching out to grab your arm that you promptly moved out of his grasp.

"How long will you do this to me for?" You ask, tilting your head upwards and allowing him to perceive the utter despair scrawled over your face — now silky with thick, melting makeup. Rupert looked down at his shoes, now finding his tan leather brogues particularly interesting. It's not that he didn't want to answer you, it was that he couldn't. "Darling.." He began, but you raised your hand to silence whatever falsity was about to leave his lips.

"Actually, don't. Wooing those floozies and undressing them with your eyes. Practically fucking them on the spot, then going home and begging me to come over." Your rant was only interrupted by pauses for breath and ebullitions of tears. "Angel..." Rupert muttered, stepping slowly away from the porch and standing afore you on the pathway, rain forthwith drenching his crisp turquoise shirt, fabric clinging desperately to his muscled chest.

"Everybody thinks I'm a total cunt. Vain, uncaring and incapable of doing anything except fucking. Of course, they can see right through me but, for some reason, you can't. You see somebody that you love, for whatever reason. And it fucking terrifies me." He admits, cerulean eyes unwavering in contact from yours, moving your hand to the drenched cloth of his chest. His heart was pulsating in a way that made the breath catch in your throat.

"It terrifies you, so you pretend it doesn't exist?" You question, mouth agape in anticipation and sodden feet inching towards him. "I have never loved another. I'd go as far as to say I have never cared for anybody but myself. But, ever since we met, I’ve felt strange. I love you, angel. I think that's all that I am. All that I can be." His impassioned monologue ends. The empty, pitting feeling in your stomach releases itself.

Snaking one hand around your waist and one around your shoulder, Rupert draws you in for a intimate kiss — both exhaling in blessed relief, the perfect conclusion to many weeks of doubt. It was exactly what you needed to hear. "Rupert..." You breathlessly moan, but another kiss steals the utterance from your lips. "My sweet angel, I love you." Rupert admits again, shoulders rolling back.

For such a callous man with a brutally heartless attitude, he became helpless under your touch. Too well intertwined — he was yours.

“I was perched outside in the pouring rain, trying to make myself a sail. Then I’ll float to you, my darling, with the evening on my tail.” - Candy.

[worrywrite]

I really like this analysis. I had not heard anything about Muir making a WoG declaration about this. But I think you're right, the evidence is both incomplete and not particularly compelling while existing in the shadow of potentially more evidence we don't know about yet.

As it stands currently, it feels like the Legion problem. The X-Men character, not the biblical demonic possession. The character Legion is canonically schizophrenic, he is also a very (like among the most) powerful telepath. And it's hard to draw the line on what is causing what. Do his delusions originate from his telepathy or does his telepathy originate from his delusions (this kind of thing does happen in the xmen world)? Neither solutions is particularly satisfying from an exterior perspective, because actual mental disorders and illnesses should not be construed as such that they give you super powers and super powers giving you a mental illness is interesting until you remember that an unstable powerful character is incredibly stressful to read and you want to be careful not to imply that people suffering from schizophrenic episodes are dangerous (or worse, inherently villainous).

I always feel like writing about things like schizophrenia is a can of worms that I'm not qualified to get into (even though I suspect I experience a fair amount of common, albeit mild, symptoms). And I respect the representation, and I hope it plays out well. But honestly I feel like the delivery of that particular element up to now has been sub par. Because, like I think we've both said, the evidence against schizophrenia the whole time has been more prevalent than evidence for.

Let me just...

I don't think I've seen anyone say this about Harrow the Ninth and it has been bothering me.

The bit about Harrow being insane. The way people talk about this, they make it sound like she actually is/was insane. Sometimes people even act like she always has been insane. But there are two things happening outside of Harrow's scope of knowledge during the book that make it clear she is and always has been perfectly sane.

1) the body. It is unclear whether she's actually seeing Alecto or she's hallucinating. But I'm inclined to believe that it's really just Alecto reaching out to her through the river. During this book Harrow is tuned in to the river because she's stuck part of her brain in a bubble there without really knowing it. And I'd be willing to bet Alecto can just do that, just astral project in a way where she can observe anything she wants undetected and has been following John around like that for who knows how long. And then suddenly she comes across Harrow, who can see and hear her projection and who knows who she is (which should not be possible). I'd say this makes even more sense, considering this is the book where Harrow actually reaches out to Alecto to the point where they can swap souls around for a bit (so Nona can happen).

2) Harrow's primary manifestation of insanity in the "is this how it happened" scenes is that she can't read. And so she believes she is insane because she keeps trying to read and she's seeing the wrong things. But these aren't memories like she seems to think they are. These are dreams, a safety mechanism she's accidentally created so she can fend off Wake and prevent herself from remembering Gideon. She's pulled out part of her brain and that bit of her mind and soul is in a massive bubble in the river. When she experiences these scenes, she's asleep. And what can't people do when they're asleep? Process language correctly. This is made more clear when she's able to read correctly while awake; in particular she's able to read her letters to herself as well as the recipes in the cookbooks on the Mithreum (information she couldn't possibly hallucinate because she would have no precedent for it).

Tldr Harrow isn't actually insane. She was just being melodramatic because she couldn't figure out what was really going on.

[jellyskink]

The Tooth And The Following Headache. (A cringey crackship)

"Alright Pines, you're good to go now. You remember where the exit is yeah?"

(Geez, the more I see this guy the MORE I find myself needin' to buy another pack of cold ones for the week.)

The day was about as fun as you'd expect it to be with "him" around. I was just about to have a good day too, of course things would go wrong as soon as I was about to relax and finish up work.

Ford Pines had his monthly appointment with me today, an appointment that I was booked with because of Oleander's meddling probably.

"Yes Dr.Ibis, I remember. H-How is everything looking if I may ask?"

(Horrible, if I was presented this during dental school I'd probably have thought it was the BEFORE photo, not AFTER.)

"Eh, I've seen worse. But you're doin' better than last time."

(That was a lie and a truth both in the correct order. Geez what HAS this freak been doing? The first time I saw him I was surprised he hadn't kicked the bucket or passed out at the very least from what problems he was dealing with. It was almost like I was checking off everything in the book on what was wrong with this guy. I mean, damn if I didn't know better I'd assume this guy was eating glass for fun or something.)

"R-really? Oh my Muse will be so pleased! The care you and Dr. Oleander have been providing me has been astronomically wonderful! My muse certainly knows how to find the best people to introduce me to!"

(Ugh, here we go again. "My muse" this, "my muse" that. I wish he'd can it about that damn triangle, the problems that kindergartner art project looking thing have been causing have been one of my biggest headache bringers to date.)

"Yep, he sure does. Now can we get along to the part where we just schedule your next appointment? I'm a very busy man you know, patients to see and all that."

"Of course! I'll need to run it by my Muse before it's finalized, but I can certainly get the word to him!"

"Sure thing bud."

(Thank god, this is going quicker than I thought. I really hate having this guy ruin the mood in my office with his... everything. What did Irene even see in this guy? This wacko clearly didn't have a personality besides being a sad clingy puppy dog whose entire being was dedicated to his "Muse".)

(Irene was pretty secretive about certain things regarding that guy whenever we ended up talking over the phone or the occasional coffee. Which for a normal doctor that'd be expected, patient confidentiality and all that. But Irene crossed that line long ago as soon as she took him on as one of her patients.)

(The guy wasn't extremely interesting to my knowledge outside of his extra fingers. If anything he was boring or weird, sometimes both at the same time. The guy wasn't particularly charming, he did LOOK handsome, and OCCASIONALLY wasn't the worst to be around, but geez I hated everything else about the guy.)

"Ah Dr.Ibis before I forget, I have something for you."

(OH GOD NOT THIS AGAIN.)

Before I even had a chance to react any further, Mr.Triangle lover quickly reached into his bag and pulled out something small with reddish-brown fur and held it out to me.

(What even is that? Is that a hamster? No, it was a vole. He brought me a freaking vole. It wasn't even alive. And he was holding it out to me with that stupid smile of his.)

I don't know what came over me, but the next thing I knew I slapped the dead rodent out of his six fingered hand. As it smacked the ground, I saw my patient flinch and begin to step back from me.

"GET YOUR DAMN ROADKILL AWAY FROM ME!"

"I-I'm sorry for upsetting you Dr.Ibis, I only wanted to-"

"What? I don't want to hear about how your "Muse" gave you dead rats as gifts again! It's disgusting! I can't stand dead animals! I don't want you to act like your dramn crazy mu-"

I wasn't even able to finish the sentence before I felt myself getting pushed against the wall with enough force to knock the wind out of me. I winced from the surprise as I began to process what happened.

It was that... that... Six fingered psycho!

(What the hell!? What is he doing??)

I was always kinda worried about this guy being the reason why someone ended up hurt, I never expected him to be the literal reason for it!

"DR. IBIS."

An unexpected tone shift from what I was used to from the guy, his voice was now booming and gruff.

(OKAY I'M REALLLY NOT USED TO HIM BEING SO LOUD OR AGGRESSIVE.)

"PLEASE... WATCH WHAT YOU SAY... ABOUT MY MUSE..." His tone lowered into a raspy hiss as the words fell from his mouth.

I really wanted to respond to him, to fight back, SOMETHING. And yet I found myself frozen with fear.

The next thing I know, I felt a rough, trembling hand tilt my head up. My field of vision focusing on the unhinged man in front of me.

"BAD THINGS... HAPPEN TO THOSE W-WHO UPSET HIM..."

(I-is he? Crying? What the hell?? Why is HE the one that's upset here? He was the one who flipped out on me!)

I didn't have much time to process everything as he moved away from me. I heard a loud crunch from the side of me as he did.

(THE HELL?? Did he break something??)

I glanced to the side of me instinctively, there was a hole in the hall next to me.

(Okkkaaay. Well it definitely wasn't the first time the office drywall got punched or broken. Whether that was ever by me at times was something that was a secret I wasn't going to tell any higher ups anytime soon.)

"Hey... Mr.Pines?"

"..."

The guy slowly walked over to the wall at the opposite side of the room, a blank stare on his face, a crimson fluid leaking from one hand onto the floor as he held it to his side, while his other hand clutched his creepy locket to his heart.

Before I could continue speaking, he began whisper to himself while facing the wall.

"i'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorry."

His head banging against the wall with eerie tempo as he spoke in a whispered voice, his tone now monotone.

"Mr.Pines??"

(What the hell? I knew this guy was probably insane but this was taking it a whole new level!)

"I'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRY."

The horrid tempo was now picking up speed.

"STANDFORD STOP IT!"

"..."

(He finally responded?)

The room was eerily silent as I tried to process what had even happened. After what felt like an eternity of sitting in awkward silence, the unhinged man I was watching turned around to face me again.

"U-um Dr.Ibis? Forgive me, I spaced out while we were about to finish our conversation earlier. W-what were we speaking about?"

A pretty nasty bruise was now starting to form on his forehead.

(THE HELL DO YOU MEAN WHAT WERE WE TALKING ABOUT??? WTF WAS THAT???)

I did my best to collect myself. I vaguely some of the info Oleander shared with me about her patient. I think she mentioned how he had certain traumatic triggers or something?? Damnit now I wish I had paid better attention to her phone call that day as she yammered on.

"It... wasn't important. Just...if you're going to leave me dead animals, do ya mind if perhaps you wrap them up before handing me them or something?"

"I-it isn't traditional I suppose, b-but I'll check in with my muse if I could be given grace to do that sort of thing. Forgive me, I don't mean to screw up showing my thanks to you..."

(Geez and now we're back to another episode of watching the saddest man ever. Ick, Oleander I swear you owe me big time for all these bones I'm throwing your patient.)

"Listen I appreciate it, in a way... I just prefer.... live animals? And I don't like rodents very much."

"I-I see... well I can't promise my muse will be happy with any changes, but I'll keep note of that."

"Listen Stan-"

"StanFORD."

"Stanford. Why don't we just pretend today didn't happen? I'm pretty tired today, and it looks like you could use some rest too."

"I... suppose my muse might not mind that. I don't think I can rest, but I know what you mean."

"Thank you Stanford. Now... why don't I drive you over to Oleander's office for a sec? I think she needed to see you for a second."

(Pleasedon'tputupafightohgodIdon'twantyoudyinginmyofficeIdon'twanttodealwiththepaperworkoranyotheraxhahstingproblemsthat'dcomefromthathappening!!)

"I-I suppose it wouldn't be too much trouble as long as we don't take TOO long. My muse seems to trust some of her judgement a lot..."

"Yeahh... well I'm just going to close up shop now.

"Of course Dr.Ibis."

(Irene I swear to god you owe me big time on top of a LONG conversation about what's the plan for your patient in the long term. If I'm going to be dragged along with you on your quest to be the queen of bleeding hearts I don't want to end up sinking with you.

Geez I need a drink after this, guess I'll be needing to buy TWO packs of cold ones from the store after this "fun" work day.)

Unfortunately for future me, one of the new "gifts" I'd start to get from Standford FREAKING Pines were eyebats. Live ones. And they were just as annoying as him. Easier to get rid of though...

(AHH I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS. I thought I'd gve it a go with writing in a more first person style when it came to a Dr.Ibis focused fic.

Yes I was possessed by a 14 year old girl harnessessing wattpad, ao3, and tiktok as I wrote this, but the idea of these two having a genuine friendship/relationship sounds hilarious to me.

I hope you liked my attempts at channeling Yusuf energy! Unfortunately he does have the tsundere curse a bit because this is a enemies to lovers kind of fic lmaoo. Hopefully the Ford energy wasn't the worst either??

I totally loved your fic other anon fanfic writer! With Jellyskink's permission we should definitely team up and write many cringey and wonderful fanfictions for this au!

Speaking of which, I'm glad once again people liked my silly little Oleander and Calamari fic! The little trickster kitty is now one of my favorite things about the au!

I love that Calamari was in the cat show Ford lost in! I'm guessing she might've won?

Either way, totally looking forward to the rivalry between Ford and Calamari lmaooo!!)

OKAY I LOVE THIS

Ibis is like "why are the hot ones always crazy"

Thank you for writing for my sad dumpling again!!! 💖💖

[hurtwithallthecomfort]

Caretaker had never been interested in having kids. At every family reunion, people would eventually come round to ask, “so, when do you think you’ll start having children?”

The answer would always be the same. Never. They’re a lot of hassle, and considering caretaker’s line of work, it probably wouldn’t be a safe environment for a kid. Then, eventually, the disgruntled aunts and nagging uncles would quieten down and go back to obnoxiously chewing on their food, occasionally making a snide remark about a cousin or nephew.

It was 2:43 in the morning, or so the glaring alarm clock said. Caretaker groaned slightly as they turned, half asleep still. Normally, they slept through the night with ease, routinely going to bed at a reasonably mature time, and waking up to the beeping of the morning alarm like clockwork.

But, this time, it was loud in the house. Quiet murmurs and tentative footsteps had woken caretaker up, purely from the fact that they simply weren’t used to it. Caretaker was happily single and childless, as well as not owning any pets or really being of an age where sleepovers were considered anything but childish. On any other night, the house was silent through and through, but tonight was different.

A knock on the bedroom door brought Caretaker out of their thoughts. A grunted ‘come in’ was all Caretaker could respond with, and as soon as the words left their lips, the door creaked open, and faint light poured in. It was Whumpee. Caretaker wasn’t particularly shocked - who else would it be? Still, up until noe Whumpee had been adamant that they were completely fine. When the team had found them, they didn’t whimper or sob or plead. They had to be grappled down in order for Medic to be able to examine them, and when they were told of the severity of their injuries, they simply denied ever even feeling bad.

Ever since Whumpee had been found, they insisted on leaving, and going ‘home’, though nobody was particularly sure where ‘home’ was, because when asked about family and friends, Whumpee had no answer. But, the team couldn’t just let the kid go, partially because they were far too young to be fending for themselves, and partially because this was the closest to Whumper they had ever gotten. Could they really risk losing their only clue?

Sleeping in the HQ wasn’t an option for Whumpee, they were tense back there, snappy and hostile. Staying overnight wouldn’t have done any good. Most of the team had to set off on an emergency mission that was far too dangerous for someone as fragile as Whumpee. Medic and Caretaker were the only ones who remained, and the former already had kids of their own waiting at home. So, Caretaker it was. They packed up Whumpee’s things, drove them for three hours to get home, and fought to get them settled in the usually abandoned guest room.

And now, they were standing in Caretaker’s doorway. Hesitant. Akin to a child standing at the foot of their parent’s mattress, shaky and looking for comfort after a harrowing nightmare.

“… couldn’t sleep..” Whumpee muttered, looking away bashfully, as though they were embarrassed that they were hurting to the point of having to reach out. Like it was the worst thing they could have done.

Caretaker didn’t react. Perhaps it was the tiredness. Instead, they shuffled and shifted in their bed so that they were upright, and patted down the other half of the bed. An invitation. Whumpee tread closer to the bed in the same way that a stray cat might stagger towards the scent of a stranger. Assessing risks.

It took them a minute to crawl into the bed, but when they did, they were quick to pull up the duvet, clutching at the blanket for warmth. Caretaker hadn’t seen the room Whumpee was being kept in, but based on the look on Leader’s face after they had found them (somewhere between horrified and distressed), they could assume that Whumper had never concerned themselves with Whumpee’s temperature concerns.

Caretaker hadn’t expected Whumpee to relax this much in their room. Sure, Whumpee had taken to them much faster than they had taken to anyone else, and sure everyone on the team had jokingly started calling them the team mother, but those were all jokes. Caretaker wasn’t a parent, and they had made peace with that. Their life wasn’t safe for a child.

Caretaker moved from their sitting position, now lying on their side under the mauve covers. Here, they faced Whumpee, whose eyes were tight shut, and their frail arms tightly shut around the firm, cream pillow. They looked so young; while nobody could find any documents regarding Whumpee’s real identity, it was easy to tell looking at them that they couldn’t be older than late teens.

Hesitantly, Caretaker pushed their hand out and brushed Whumpee’s hair out of their face, fingers gently skimming their forehead. It was hot to touch, like they were a flu-ridden child in the middle of a summertime heatwave. Caretaker couldn’t even fathom what Whumpee had been through to get here. But, if their meagre little townhouse in the middle if nowhere could provide some solace for them, then so be it. Whumpee could sleep wherever they wanted.

[darkfire359]

I don’t understand why people are so upset about Christian Linke’s declaration that Viktor is asexual. Like, I don’t know anything about this creator personally, so maybe he is just homophobic on his own time or something. But as far as I can tell, he basically said two things in his interview:

- Jayce/Viktor shippers didn’t influence the writing of season 2 because they didn’t plan to take things in that direction. This shouldn’t be surprising. It also doesn’t really affect how gay Jayce and Viktor’s relationship ended up looking in practice.

- Viktor was written as being asexual from the beginning, and Linke had explicitly talked to queer Rioters ahead of time to ask what representation was lacking (they said asexuality). The latter seems like a confirmable event and thus a weird thing to lie about. So I think he genuinely did plan it from the beginning and not just decide on it as a reaction to shippers.

Now, while I’m annoyed that he seems to be conflating aromanticism and asexuality, this is kind of what I expect from the average cishet person. Honestly even queer writers like Vivziepop are guilty of this (the “ace in the hole” joke about Alastor in Hazbin Hotel is made in reference to Alastor not being romantically interested in someone). But I do prefer that writers at least *try* to write queer characters rather than just throwing out the whole thing as being too confusing.

And my impression is that they *did* try—the show had multiple points where Viktor is shown to not reciprocate Sky’s affections, as well as one point where he seems to not really understand Jayce’s interest in Mel. And of course Viktor is unbothered by having a robot body that’s incapable of sex (if only we could all upgrade ourselves like that…) In a show that doesn’t use the word “sex” or use any labels for anyone’s orientation, I think it’s hard to be explicitly clear here.

It seems like one thing people are upset about is Viktor being both disabled and asexual at the same time, and I’ll admit I don’t really understand the issue. First of all, Viktor is not the only disabled character—Sevika and late S2 Jayce are disabled as well, and it’s a particularly big issue for the former. Both of them are pretty canonically non-ace—Sevika due to the line about her visiting the brothel, and Jayce from his sex scene with Mel. I think this is like 2/5 of the characters in the whole show that are specifically non-ace.

Secondly, it seems like some of the concern with disabled characters being depicted as ace is them being seen as sexually undesirable—something clearly not the case with Viktor. Viktor is drawn / voiced very attractively (or so I gather), and in-universe he is being crushed on by Sky. Jayce also has a whole speech about how Viktor’s disability is beautiful. If the creators thought that Viktor’s disability made him unattractive in some way, they sure didn’t portray that, at all.

So yeah, I do not understand the problem with this announcement.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Ortho flying with three floating tablets (representing his parents and Idia) behind him is such a MagiCammable moment, according to Cater and his sisters lol

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

"Oh my gosh! Who's this little cutie patootie?!"

"W-Wah...!" Ortho scarcely had any time to formulate an appropriate reaction before he was accosted from both sides. They had leapt out from the Queen of Hearts' statue, like jaguars pouncing on unsuspecting prey. The three tablets floating beside Ortho were sent spiraling.

"B-Bwah?!" Idia sputtered from his end, eyes bulging at what his video feed was picking up. There was his poor little brother, smothered by a pair of flashy women. "A normie sneak attack!?"

To Idia's horror, he could see painted nails studded with jewelry running all over the boy's face and hair. He leapt out of his gaming chair, seizing his computer monitor with both hands.

"C-Calm down, Ortho! CALM DOWN, DON'T PANIC!! Y-Your big brother will help you out of this pinch... e-except I don't know how to deal with 3D women!! Th-There's no dialogue selection option IRL...!!"

"You're the one panicking the most here, nii-san..."

"Now, Idia--" their father began--cool, level-headed.

"Hold on, dear," his wife interrupted. "Don't you think it's too soon to intervene?"

"... What are you saying?"

"I mean, these girls are only appreciating Or-kun's cuteness, right? I don't think there's anything wrong with acknowledging that! In fact, the world should be more familiar with how adorable both of our sons are...!"

"B-Betrayed by the mom?!"

"Ahahah... Sorry, Shroud fam~" Cater called as he, too, stepped out from his spot behind a statue. He didn't look particularly apologetic, not with that growing grin tugging at his mouth. "It looks like my sisters took an interest in your youngest. I guess it's not every day you see a bot as advanced as Ortho-chan is, but still!"

"J-Just what I needed... Another sparkly extrovert to complicate this scenario!!" Idia moaned, clutching at his forehead.

"You have to get a pic of us together, Cater!" one sister pouted. "This is too cool not to! Be sure to get the tablets in the shot too, okay?"

"Alright, I'll try." He casually produced his phone. "Everybody has to smush together first though, and Idia-kun's kinda out of frame--"

"Are you, like, for reals a robot?" the other sister demanded, ogling Ortho's metallic body. "That's not cosplay, right?"

"Hehe, nope! I'm one hundred percent custom built by my nii-san."

Idia loudly snorted, far less amused than his brother was. "Cosplay? Are you blind? I'm insulted that you'd even suggest such a stupid idea. Check out the rocket boosters in his feet, the complex circuity in his chassis, the artificial intelligence with a limitless capacity to learn. It's all Ortho."

"That's right! Our Idia built Or-kun from scratch all on his own!" Mrs. Shroud chirped. "Ahhh, our sons are our pride and joy! Aren't they, Papa?"

Mr. Shroud drew out a sigh. "... Yes, dear."

Their tablets drew close and snuggled (or attempted to). Idia could only imagine that his parents had embraced one another on the other end of the line. Hot pink and neon blue twinning.

"Oh, bleh." He rolled his eyes. Mom and dad are being gross and mushy in public again.

Suddenly, his video feed jerked down. Idia got a chunk of pavement, then an eyeful of twinkling makeup and nails. The first of the Diamond sisters had seized his tablet, posing with it in front of her.

"Is he, like, in frame now?" she asked Cater, who flashed her a thumbs up.

"Perfect~ Now everyone else can squeeze in!"

At Cater's direction, his other sister rushed over. Ortho was tugged along like a balloon on a string--though he didn't put up any resistance. The Shroud parents allowed their tablets to lower to the appropriate height for the picture. Cater held his phone out, the camera flipped.

All eager for the photograph except for one.

"D-Don't I get a say in this?!" Idia weakly protested.

Cater laughed--and it sounded a little mean to Idia, as light-hearted as it was. "Sure, you get a say in this! I'll let you know what to say: cheese!"

CLICK!

The selfie was taken. The Diamonds and the Shrouds, immortalized in a shared image.

[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*

[owl-it-here]

One Piece AU: Dadan’s marriage dream: East Blue Saga

Luffi's journey has begun. Before entering the Grand Line, he found no less than 4 candidates: Gaimon, Zeff, Genzo and Dragon!

And without a doubt his favourite is Zeff! After all, two chefs in the family are better than one! Of course, Sanji alas is not convinced by the idea. Gaimon sadly dropped out of the competition. Genzo was quite a strong player. And our dear sisters were interested in matchmaking to some extent, but unfortunately extracting information from Luffy is not as easy as it seems. As for Dragon, despite meeting his son a couple of times in this AU, Luffy did not recognise him in the commotion. The question about Luffy's upbringing comes from the fact that he is unaware that his father's visits were only slightly more frequent than his own. Unfortunately for him, the idea of marriage has been picked up by Sabo and Koala, who, through a snail, informs Iva of this particular verbal exchange …

Sabo is currently particularly interested in whether Dragon and Dadan know each other. Koala simply believes that marriage could help with his image.

Dadan’s marriage dream: How it started? -> Link Luffy's Pirate Voyage -> Part 1 (East Blue) ~ here we are ~ -> Part 2 (Alabasta) ✨in plans✨

[vampireghostlawyer]

daan's contradictions

One of the aspects of Daan's character that I find the most interesting is how often he contradicts himself throughout the game. Even in some party talks where he doesn't contradict himself, he will act entirely different about a situation depending on who else is present. To a certain extent, all of the characters act slightly differently based on your party makeup, but I think Daan is particularly intriguing because of how much he does this.

Also, he is the catalyst for a lot of the other characters to act differently, such as Karin becoming more obstinate when he's in the party, and both O'saa and Olivia becoming more talkative with him compared to other contestants.

I've seen some people who mistake this for Miro having a lot of different opinions on how Daan should act, or even poor writing, but I think this is definitely more indicative of the strength of Miro's writing. I really feel like this is a conscious choice on the part of Daan's character and I want to try and explain my thoughts about why he acts how he does, as well as provide some examples.

Examples:

1.) In one of Daan's earliest conversations in the game (if Karin is in the party), he will lament his shoes getting ruined and Karin will accuse him of being too prissy to spend time outdoors. She'll point out how he's a city slicker with soft hands and doubts that he'd have the skills to survive on his own. He'll refute her but he'll dodge her questions about being a "city slicker" and his explanations of how he'd survive are either sarcastically bad, or he's genuinely pretending not to know.

In a later party talk, we learn that Daan actually spent the majority of his childhood living in nature before he was taken in by Eihner (or started selling Sylvian services, depending on his backstory).

This makes his answers to Karin, as well as his constant comments throughout the game about how poorly he's handling the Prehevil weather and nature, very strange. If he really did grow up in nature, he should know better than to eat random mushrooms and shouldn't be bothered by things like the smell of lake water or mud, but he still makes a point of acting like he's not used to encountering them.

Additionally, if Olivia is in the party, Daan will actually backtrack on some of his comments about nature and express an interest in it, seemingly just to be nice to her.

2. When standing in the rafters of the church, if Karin is in the party, she'll express a fear of heights, Daan will point it out (in what seems to be a teasing way), and they'll bicker a bit.

Despite this interaction, if you do a party talk in the same area and Karin isn't in your party, it becomes clear that Daan is also afraid of the rafters lmao.

3. When O'saa comments on the bookstore, Daan will act offended and argue with him about the value of books and reading.

When visiting the same store without O'saa, Daan will not express a fondness for reading or share the story about A Tree Grows in Rondon, and will even say he finds books boring.

Despite this, he will once again seem to like books during his party talks in the Mayor's House.

3.) When not playing as Daan, he will tell the player (in a few different interactions) that he either plans to stay on the train, or thinks it's the best option.

He says variations of the above lines with every player character and in a few different dialogue branches. Ironically, he actually doesn't wait around by the train. In fact, Daan is one of three characters who doesn't spawn at all during the morning of Day 1. While some characters (like Olivia) will actually wait by the train, despite Daan's comments, he only ever spawns by the train during that initial interaction (and immediately after), and then doesn't return until he can be found in the shack later that day.

4.) Daan says in one party talk that he prefers being out in open areas because they seem safer, yet when Karin says the same thing, he makes fun of her for it.

5.) In some party talks, Daan will talk openly about sex, however when Abella is present, he becomes much more prudish. One example is in the department store, Daan will make a comment about how the torture victims seem to be screaming in pleasure, and if Levi is present, will agree with him that the torture is consensual.

When Abella is in the group, however, he will instead act disgusted by what he sees. Similarly, when O'saa makes a joke about sex in front of him at the PRHVL Bop, or when Marcoh and him joke about joining an orgy at the museum, Daan will go along with it, but when Abella does the same about the Sylvian statue in town, Daan will stop her.

These are just a few examples, I remember seeing a few more in my first few playthroughs, but these are just the ones that stuck out to me the most.

Analysis:

I think it makes a lot of sense that with Daan's background, he would have to have a lot of skill at appeasing others. In any version of his backstory, he would have had to rely on getting other people to trust or like him, so it's probably something he's developed a skill at. I think that can explain a lot of his random contradictions when interacting with others.

Daan's blank soul also plays a part in this, I believe. In the narrative, both with the Dutches and with Pocketcat, Daan serves as an empty vessel meant to fulfill the whims of someone else, be it Eihner's ritual or the Pocketcat's need for a body. In gameplay, most of his abilities help others at the cost of hurting himself in some way. Daan's life and story revolve around the people he's surrounded by, so it makes sense that his interactions with others would mirror that on a more minor scale.

I also think that a lot of Daan's calmness is a facade meant to trick the player (and other contestants). When we see Daan in a lot of extreme and horrifying scenarios in the game, he is hardly bothered. Attempting to kill Daan, having him inspect his fiancee's body, having him in the party for the fight with stitches or needles, or even amputating all his limbs, still only end with Daan acting almost comically calm for the situation. In contrast, when he undergoes minor annoyances like ruining his shoes or entering the sewers, he reacts very strongly. I think his apathetic personality is a coping mechanism to deal with his past trauma, as well as the trauma of Prehevil, and that his true emotions slip through the cracks of his less important interactions. That's why, when he's talking to Karin or O'saa for example, he is much more emotive and mocking.

Finally, I also think Daan is a bit of a liar. Likely due to the same reasons as needing to please others for safety and survival, he also developed a talent for lying. Throughout the game he is either incredibly secretive, or even sometimes outright lies to the player and other characters whenever he is questioned about his actions, motives, or past.

[thegreatcaptainusopp]

The Water 7 Fight: An Analysis

So. Water 7. There’s a lot to be said about the Usopp vs Luffy fight, their motivations, and the right vs wrong of it all…it’s a complex situation, and so I wanted to share some thoughts:

The Set Up

The growing tension and activity that led to the fight between Luffy and Usopp is so so well explored in the scenes right before it happened. Of course, events are kicked off by Usopp’s abduction by the Franky Family, and his subsequent beating and losing the money. This, on top of the many many clues sprinkled throughout the early bits of the arc and earlier arcs regarding his own feelings of inadequacy as well as his connection to the Merry, is the straw that breaks the camel’s back for Usopp in my opinion. This was one of his deepest fears, finally realized: he felt that he had finally crossed the line into more than just useless but an active liability to the crew. He admits as much to Nami when he sees her: he’s ashamed more than anything else. He can’t face the others.

Nami’s reaction in this moment is also really interesting. She sees Usopp at possibly one of his most vulnerable moments ever, and she reacts so kindly: she tells him it’s not his fault, that it’s going to be okay, that she’ll get him some help. It’s such a mature and responsible response and out of everyone here I think she reacted most rationally to this whole situation. I think if she had been a little more confident she could’ve engaged in some really good conflict resolution practices with everyone.

At the same time, everyone slowly gets the bad news about the Merry, and their differing reactions are interesting: they’re all upset, and openly discuss that. Sanji even notes that Usopp is going to be particularly upset to hear this, so they’re all already aware that this is going to be quite bad. What’s interesting, though, is Luffy’s reaction: he goes through a similar emotional journey that Usopp does when getting the news, but their ultimate destination is what differs greatly here. I think the difference here is probably down to two factors: 1. Luffy does not have the same particular insecurities that Usopp does and 2. Luffy is the ultimate authority in the decisions here, Usopp is not.

Then, Usopp picks himself back up, badly wounded, to return to the Franky family to try to get the money back. This is a big moment too, because it showcases that he is the type of person to fight even when he knows he isn’t going to win, which is what ends up happening here. Even the moment where he burst in really felt paralleled to the moment he stares down Luffy in a fight later: it’s a really good set up.

And then he gets injured even more, and chopper has to check if he’s even alive when they find him, which is important to note because his physical condition is just dire right now.

I found the reactions of Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, and Chopper interesting too because they get super angry, obviously, partly because of the money but more because of how Usopp is hurt. In one sense it’s funny that they just left him there while they took revenge for him, but on another it’s a little tragic because that wasn’t what he needed in that moment. I don’t think he ever finds out about it either if my memory served me correctly. There’s another layer of irony in the way they all leap to fight to save their crewmate but we’ll get to that later.

I also think it’s notable that Luffy locks in his decision to get a new ship here, right after they destroy the Franky family’s hideout. I think he felt a sense of responsibility for what happened, maybe believing that if he’d been more decisive in his leadership, then Usopp wouldn’t have been this badly hurt. Which is also just oof. Extremely ironic.

So they take Usopp back and it takes him a while to even wake up, and when he does he’s all apologies. The physical framing of it is interesting too, because he’s on his knees and hugging Zoro’s legs and stuff. He’s not outwardly expressing his shame like he did with Nami earlier but it’s close. He’s not really standing up at all.

And everything seems to be going ok, and Usopp is asking about next steps and then…and then Luffy drops the bomb. And that changes everything.

The Confrontation

Usopp starts the whole argument in full denial. It’s a pretty classic gamut of emotions here: he goes full tilt into the cycles of grief, starting with just straight up denying that Luffy would do this, to bargaining by asking if he was at fault in this situation and trying to convince the others to let him continue fixing the ship. He’s clearly feeling a lot of guilt here: he believes he is directly responsible for the Merry’s “death” as it were and is scrambling trying to take responsibility for fixing her. I think everyone else was taken aback by the level that this guilt went and were wholly unprepared to deal with it. Luffy yelling that he isn’t a carpenter I think was him trying to talk him down but ultimately had the exact opposite effect: all Usopp heard was he had no expertise in this and was useless, and may have even harmed Merry further or out her in this situation to begin with.

This snaps Usopp into the anger stage, and this is where it really starts to get ugly. It’s notable to me that he’s the one that escalated by grabbing at Luffy’s shirt and yelling at him that he excepted better, which were intended to hurt I think. Luffy though gives as good as he gets, and is the one that actually turns the confrontation violent: knocking a grave injured Usopp down. In short: he doesn’t descalate or calm the situation, but instead adds to it. The way his temper is so hair trigger in this scene is extremely interesting to me.

Nobody else intervenes either (at least not yet). All of them try on occasion to tell them to calm down or stop fighting but not more than that. Not even Zoro steps in at this stage, which I found super interesting. Nami tries to tell Usopp at one point that Luffy had a similar emotional reaction ti him about this choice, but Luffy stops her. Funnily enough I think if he hadn’t she may have been able to calm things down a bit here.

It’s not until Luffy is right about to tell Usopp to leave, it’s practically already left his mouth, that someone actually steps in here. And it’s SANJI. Sanji, who knows very well how it feels to be told you don’t belong somewhere anymore. Sanji physically knocks Luffy back and he does it with FORCE, and it’s him who desperately tries to wrangle some control back of the situation. And the thing is: it almost works! Everyone listens to him, nobody objects to his methods, and Luffy actually starts to reign himself back and apologizes!

But it’s a bell that can’t be unrung at this point. Usopp has heard what he heard and has made his decision. What’s interesting here though, and what I realized upon rereading it, was how self aware Usopp was at this stage about the whole thing? Like he was fully aware that he was substituting himself in for the Merry and straight up tells the crew that he thinks he’s useless and that they should get rid of him in the same way that the did the ship. Like…he’s not subtle at ALL about this, and about the reasons why he’s behaving the way he does. He knows exactly why! And he tells them! I honestly credit him for that in a way…he’s spiraling here but he’s aware of it, and he’s aware of exactly what he’s feeling and why. The way this fight is remembered and discussed in fandom I feel is he’s characterized as throwing a tantrum about it but this really isn’t what happened here at all.

Nobody really pulls him back on his statements: I think they were too shocked here to really know what to do. Chopper is falling apart emotionally, Nami is trying to get him to hang back and wait, Sanji even starts yelling at Usopp to come back. Zoro…Zoro says nothing, which interested me a lot too. He does however have a flashback to him being the one to invite Usopp on board, which I have a LOT of thoughts about. From Alabasta, Zoro has been privy to a lot of Usopp moments that were important turning points for him: carrying dalton up the mountain, expressing doubt after long ring long land, etc. I think he’s thinking of those things here too. I think he’s feeling a sense of responsibility here that he doesn’t know what to do with.

Luffy says nothing too. He looks angry, which I think is a cover for upset, but his silence is fascinating. He’s letting things play out here because I think he’s still in fight mode but also because I think he’s letting Usopp make his own choices here, as he should. I think he’s trying to be captainlike here. But…also not quite. He’s spiraling just as bad as Usopp here, imho.

And then, Usopp issues his duel request. There’s a few interesting bits in between where Nami is trying convince Luffy to not go through with it, but he’s very dedicated to doing so anyway. She’s telling LUFFY to apologize which is interesting thinking of the fandom recollection of this fight. She’s trying conflict resolution here but it’s a bit too late for that.

I also like that Sanji and Zoro are fighting about this too, blaming each other for what happened. I think it’s a form of tension release for the two of them, and Nami stopping them shows it’s still a bit of a sensitive time for it anyway. Which leads to:

The Fight

This fight is one of my favorites in OP, insofar as actual fighting techniques/approaches go. It’s unique to the series and so emotional and just hits different. Luffy’s later fight against Sanji hits similar notes but this one stands out specifically because it’s Usopp, who is very much not a fighter in the same way Sanji is.

For one, Usopp’s a ranged fighter, and he’s fighting Luffy at close quarters. He’s already at a MASSIVE disadvantage and he knows this, Luffy knows this, the straw hats know this. It’s his fight to lose, and he picks it anyway. And I think this is what’s so key to this entire conflict, from start to finish: Usopp KNEW he was going to lose. He knew it from the start. He knew Merry was doomed. He knew that from the start too. But he did all of that anyway. Why? I think the why is so incredibly nuanced, from loyalty to pride to fear of rejection to abandonment issues. But it also highlights his tendency to bullheadedly get things done if he thinks he’s the only one left who hasn’t given up on something. And I think that’s so important to him as a character, and it’s this realization and this specific fight that made Usopp into my favorite character. It’s also why I don’t think there’s a black and white wrong and right side to this conflict. From one end, Luffy’s the boss so they need to follow his instructions without question. From another, I like it better when Luffy’s challenged by his crew for both story and character purposes for all involved. I think Luffy needed this to happen, not because he needed to assert his authority as captain, but because he needed to fuck up as a leader and learn from that.

For another, Usopp is also on the brink of collapse this entire time. The fight ends when Luffy gets a single hit in, which means Usopp was on his last legs and he still went through with it. That is super admirable to me and a testament to his super tanking abilities and determination when it counts. He had the deck stacked against him here and he still went for it.

Now: fight techniques. Usopp took this fight seriously, like for real seriously. He pulled every weapon out of his arsenal and went for it, from lying to caltrops to dials and actual honest to god explosions. It was interesting to see the crew be so surprised at him doing so well at the start. He even uses Luffy’s care for his injuries against him which was a notable part of it for me. The impact dial bit is one of my favorites: it’s such a powerful moment to me.

And then he loses, and is probably actively dying as a result lol. Everyone’s absolute devastation, expressed in different ways, was really fascinating to watch. Chopper just trying to run over and fix things and Nami unable to watch hit hard. Zoro being super composed on the outside and holding Luffy together but…yeah he’s not pleased about this. Sanji telling chopper not to go because Usopp doesn’t need pity. Luffy crying…which always is very emotional. Them giving Usopp the ship and moving on to demonstrate that they took all his words seriously but also to acknowledge his dedication to the Merry. Ooof.

Anyway this arc physically hurts. 10/10 experience. Destroys me every time.

[triangulumlights]

Some Until Dawn stuff y'all might not have seen! These are from the files for the 2012 Alpha and 2011 First-Person Demo. The first is an early version of the 'Events of the Past' totem video, and the second is a neat little live-action mood/aesthetic/theme video.

[admiral-bennetts-aide-de-camp]

a lot of people talk about abed comparing troy to comfort TV, but not enough people talk about the implication of how, by saying that, abed positions himself as a parasocial fan

[hanzajesthanza]

geralt "i will NEVER deadname my best friend" of rivia

"he will ALWAYS be dandelion to ME"

[thewingedbaron]

I’m really really curious how Pike’s arc is going to go in the next couple of seasons.

By this point in the campaign she was rebuilding the Everlight’s temple in Vasselhiem. She’d reconciled, working along side her goddess to help bring some worship back.

In the show, shes rejected her. She doesn’t wear her symbol around her neck anymore. We already had the reconciliation, Pike wasn’t forced to choose anything, only to be true to herself. But, after the conversation with Zerxus, she’s rejected Sarenrae again.

I’m so so curious where this is going later. Pike’s relationship with the everlight is such an important piece of her character and has had a pretty significant impact as far as C3. What’s the plan for the show now? Pike seems to be of special blood, something the Whispered One needs for some purpose (as teased by Zerxus). Is pike going to need to make up with her goddess? Have we abandon her completely? Pike’s powers don’t seem to have gone away?

Can’t wait for season 4.

[all-eyes-no-dragon]

I wanted to rec this for a while. This is the most amazing humans are space orcs story I've ever read. It's called, "In Search of Home".

It's an original work so there's no fandom you need to know to read it, it's over 362,000 words, which is more than decently long, and has an ongoing sequel that's surpassed the word count of the first story (we love getting closure 💞). It has a happy ending (not a spoiler, it says in the tags) so don't worry about your heart breaking too much.

I'm rereading the first story and I feel kind of cool knowing the alien words.

I cried reading it, I laughed, I felt victorious. I love it so much and want more people to know it exists because original works aren't as popular on ao3.

Mind the tags!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43547319

Summary: