#why am I incapable of brevity????? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blujayonthewing · 9 months ago

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Heartbreak, midnight, mistake for Mel if they haven’t been asked and actually can you dow them for Felix too, cause why not.

heartbreak: Have they ever had a relationship that ended badly? Experienced some other kind of heartbreak? What happened?

biting my fist I wish I had better answers for this because I love this question. The problem with both felix and mel is that they are in their 50s and 60s respectively, which isn't very many for a gnome but is still just A Lot Of Years for me, an idiot, to fill with life experiences and I've mostly been really bad about doing that kfgjhdgj.

Melliwyk has always been really bad at relationships in general; she's dated a little, mostly very casually, but especially once she was in the academy she fell pretty hard into 'yes yes yes I'll go socialize when I'm done working on this' chaining one project into the next ad infinitum, especially after the experiment backfire explosion that gave her a reputation as this sort of ruthless researcher and resulted in kind of a feedback loop of people assuming she preferred to be left alone, which meant fewer people bugging her into socializing once in awhile, which reinforced her perception as a loner, etc. I think she's been in at least a handful of relationships with people she really liked that could have been serious but just... sort of fell apart; more regrets than outright heartbreaks.

Honestly as of current canon, I think the worst outright heartbreak Mel's had that I know of was being attacked by, and then losing, her house's ghost as soon as she found out he was real the whole time; aside from Baxter, he was her only friend for years and years, even if only an 'imaginary' one, and it was a gut punch to, essentially, finally find him but then immediately lose him forever.

Felix has even less canon backstory I could tell you about right now, alas :') He's been in very few meaningful relationships; he's not good at putting himself out there, and having a brief encounter with a stranger is a lot easier to navigate than... well, someone else being disappointed with the way he is as a whole person. To be fair, I don't think he's been openly rejected a lot, but the way he sort of expects it shapes his behavior such that it makes it harder for others to get that close to him in the first place. I can very much see him having had his heart broken before, but I'd have to get back to you on specifics ^^; These days he mostly keeps to himself; he likes people, but it's easier for him to be around them than to be one of them.

I am incapable of brevity! The rest under the cut!

midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?

Melliwyk is up working. She'd be up working anyway, but especially if she's upset-- working tirelessly, if not relentlessly. She's not good with emotions; she processes things by keeping busy, either looking for Solutions or just looking to throw herself into something productive rather than having to feel her feelings. This is overlapping really neatly with her current major source of stress, which is that everything she's working on is deeply important, and anything she neglects in order to work on those things is also deeply important, and other people are getting hurt and will continue to get hurt if she can't prioritize tasks correctly or do enough quickly enough and well enough. She doesn't have time for fears! Or anxieties! Or sleep! Or dinner! And it's great! After all, she loves her work! She's interested! Passionate! No downsides!! She doesn't have nightmares because the reason she wears that goofy hat at all times is literally to magically prevent nightmares, but I bet if she slept without it her nightmares would be real interesting right now :)

The facetious answer for Felix is: his sleep schedule is sort of unusual, so when he's up in the small hours it's normal and he's getting up to whatever his normal gnome business is, lol. But in the proper spirit of the question:

He lost a lot of sleep after the mysterious encounter that took a chunk of his memory and left a strange mark on his skin. In general, Felix is not immune to getting too invested in [area of interest] and staying up way too late, so he's certainly lost sleep working on/ thinking over really interesting mysteries before, but that situation has so many unknowns, has so many worrying or grim implications, has given him so much to think about and yet so little to actually work with...! The fact that he can't remember getting back to town is what upsets him the most. He's found himself (or put himself) in a lot of really dangerous situations, but he's always had control of his own mind and body before, even when he's been physically overpowered by others.

More generally, sometimes he'll learn something or uncover some secret that he ends up losing sleep over, especially if it's information about something bad that he doesn't feel like he can actually act on. The city he spends most of his time in is less-than-secretly controlled by a powerful criminal guild, so he has to maintain a really delicate balance between snooping around a lot just because that's what interests him anyway, helping others as much as he can, but also staying out of the way of the guild and the law enough that the worst either of them do is, you know, beat him up a little and/or throw him in jail for a couple days, rather than deciding it'd be better if he Just Disappeared.

If he's worried or anxious and can't sleep over it, he'll generally go for a walk, or go sit on a roof for awhile, or sit somewhere and draw if the weather's bad. He doesn't have a lot of nightmares, but when he does they're often about being trapped somewhere and being unable to call for help, or seeing people pass by who can't seem to see or hear him (all of which he stubbornly refuses to read into).

mistake: What’s the worst mistake your OC ever made? What led to them making it? Have they been able to fix it? How have they moved on?

A little while back, Melliwyk's party returned from a ground excursion to find our airship under attack by a powerful archmage, her personal bodyguard, a bunch of summoned fiends, and a crew of elite soldiers; as soon as she managed to get back on deck Melliwyk launched a fireball at the archmage and then moved toward the cabin looking to get cover inside, and the archmage returned with a massive flamestrike right on top of Mel, who... had just run directly to where most of the crew of the ship were, all of whom had already taken damage before we got there. Our first mate went down, and we managed to get him just inside the door to the stairs leading belowdecks, but before any healers could reach him a previously invisible imp stung him, killing him instantly, right at Melliwyk's feet.

And the thing is. Maybe it wouldn't have mattered whether she, personally, drew fire to him; he had already been pretty hurt, and it was a rough battle for everyone, and there's no reason to believe the archmage still wouldn't have dropped a big AOE on half the ship. And maybe it's perfectly reasonable that Melliwyk, a wizard, a transmutation wizard, didn't try to use her entire action in the middle of a pitched battle to try to stabilize him when there were no obvious enemies nearby, and an actual healer was literally feet away, running to help him. Maybe. But she can only think that it was so, so stupid of her, that if she'd just thought for one second, for once-- ... anyway. The next week or so were all 'Mel doesn't leave her room or speak to anyone' days. Working. Relentlessly. She'd already been working on figuring out a method to use her newly-learned insights into artificing to cast spells, but the first spells she actually programmed into the device she was working on were spare the dying, cure wounds, and revivify.

Felix bit off more than he could chew; he was following the trail of some weird rumors in a smaller town, hoping to find a connection to a string of recent petty thefts he'd been looking into, but he underestimated what kind of people he was dealing with-- both in terms of skills, and of how serious their operation actually was. He got caught pretty deep into their base of operations, way too deep for any attempt at plausible deniability, and after beating the shit out of him they opted to just tie him up and leave him in an abandoned and mostly blocked-off sewer passage to die, rather than kill him outright. He only escaped by convincing the rats to chew through the ropes, quickly made his way out of the city by staying belowground for as long as possible, and has never been back since-- there's a chance they forgot about him immediately, but there's also a very good chance that they'd be really upset if that guy who Knows Too Much is still just running around like a dangerous loose thread.

It was just-- well, maybe not cockiness, he's not exactly the cocky type, but certainly carelessness. He got sloppy, over-interested and under-cautious; he hadn't really expected to be dealing with people who'd be able to catch him so easily, much less that he'd be in any serious danger if they did. He was expecting, like, a gang of teenagers at worst-- not not a threat, but people he could maybe stand up to in a fight, or wriggle free from pretty easily, or who at the very least wouldn't try to fucking kill him. This would have been fairly early in his career (so to speak) of trying to tail people and break into places for actual, like, private investigation reasons rather than pure curiosity, so he didn't have a good handle on the risks, or the stakes; he's (usually) a lot more careful nowadays, although sometimes he still can't resist pushing his luck.

ask about my OCs?

#HOLLERS. GREAT QUESTIONS. THIS TOOK SO LONG TO ANSWER LMAO #as in: it's been sitting in my inbox for [mumbles] weeks but also I've been chewing on actually answering it all NIGHT lmao #thank you for the Qs I love you #felix's escapade is formative but #it's also conspicuously underdeveloped because [jazz hands] I wanted it to be up to the DM what Exact manner of Deep Shit he'd stumbled int #lol and also lmao. I really ought to flesh it out myself now that I know I don't have to worry about it fitting someone else's worldbuildin #melliwyk's meanwhile was in-game I was THERE for that one lmao #mel has had. a lot of tactical errors like this of late. lots of little and understandable mistakes but the stakes are always SO high...#this is the only fuckup with a body count though. so far. lol.#she's fine she's fine it's fiiiine #my OCs #melliwyk #felix #ask thing

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poetry-protest-pornography · 1 year ago

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I don't know why I ever bother to tell myself that the idea in writing is going to be short.

Or just fluff.

Or funny.

Or angst-less.

I am constitutionally incapable of brevity, or of keeping from getting feelings all over everything.

Why am I like this?

#on writing #writer problems

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kafkaoftherubble · 5 months ago

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Alright. I usually refrain from commenting on discourse posts—especially those that don't pertain to my usual domains because I always believe I either don't know enough or my opinions aren't something so enlightening it's worth sounding aloud—but I want to weigh in on what you reply to @/these-detestable-hands there.

Be warned, it is long—but again, if we hope to have some nuances in a conversation, brevity often does more harm than good.

I don't deny the prevalence of American (or even, as you brought up, Christian) soft power in globalization. But I don't think chalking this up as all "Americanization-is-white-washing" is remotely close to the full picture.

Why is these-detestable-hands' alternative inferences somehow an example of a "cultural Christianity" class of arguments instead of legitimate possibilities? Dude. They're themself are European. They are not White, either. When they said Europeans do don this type of aesthetics, they were just speaking from their experience growing up.

I'm from Malaysia, a Southeast Asian country that is Muslim-majority, socially conservative, and politically, visibly infused with anti-American rhetoric. And yet I've seen this same aesthetics, mixed and matched with others, among the people I live with. Mainland China has an even louder blaring of anti-American tone (it's considered a politically correct stance there), and yet some of their young people also show up in this sort of aesthetics.

Tell me: do Americans somehow have a monopoly on bun hairdos? Or that straight-short hair? Or that way of wearing a jacket? Or the man's facial hairstyle and white shirt? Or a bland t-shirt, that sort of dress, etc.?

Because I've seen similar fashion techniques in diverse cultures, past or present. The reason why they look so "whitewashed" here, methinks, is because these characters are fair-skinned. That's really it, innit? I could easily imagine a Malaysian Indian in the male's outfit, or a Chinese in that bun-haired Anna getup (bun-haired [发髻, article in Chinese] is a very ancient hairdo in Chinese history, going back about 6000 years ago or so, with many types being trendy throughout different dynasties). There's a plethora of people who could or do dress up like this. I've seen it.

Now, you might argue that this is because American soft power has become so embedded in globalization that people take up their cultural import without being aware of it. "Even if people from other countries like Malaysia adopt aesthetics like this, can we really say that it is completely devoid of American influence, considering how dominant it has become especially after World War II?"

No. I'll concede we cannot unequivocably say the American influence, however its shape or form, is absent. But I will also tell you that this argument is weak, because all cultural osmosis is multidirectional. Yes, there will be hints of American elements in certain fashion trends or aesthetics, but when it came to different parts of the globe, they always blend with local cultures (including fashion sense), and that includes Europe. By saying this "boring" aesthetics "can also be found in Europe", these-detestable-hands was (I hope I'm getting you right, mate) saying that Europeans can also just come up with this from their own local fashion sense regardless of how much American input there might be.

One of the things that really prompted me to write a response, other than your strange example for "cultural Christianity" (I'll get to that later), is the latent Americentric undertone when you refute these-detestable-hands' arguments. You made it sound like everything in this image can only be American inventions. That if I were to propose that maybe this isn't necessarily an example of "Americanization", I am being blissfully unaware of "cultural Americanism," because somehow other cultures are incapable of coming up with an aesthetic like this. Or even if they could, it's because they have seen the American Whites do it first, and so any similarity in other cultures' modern fashion sense is just following this American trend, instead of them coming up with something of their own and mix-matching different elements from different places that are not necessarily American in origin alone.

The Americentrist assumptions, therefore, are these:

People of other cultures or regions have no choice but to be subjected under American influence wholesale just because Americans have had really strong soft power tools for a few decades. This is ignoring how, in this modern era, different cultures and societies of the world often pick and choose what elements of a non-native culture they want to adopt, adapt, and reject.

People of other cultures/regions cannot possibly have come up with modern-day aesthetics that are similar to this^ on their own, even by mix-matching with whatever cultures they have seen. Even if they did, it's gotta' be Americanization at work, nothing else. To this, I wonder what un-Americanization in the modern era supposedly entailed. Are we Malaysians only allowed to be in our "traditional" outfits to be rid of "Americanization," for example? Am I, Malaysian Chinese, only allow to wear qipao or changshanzhuang to avoid the corrosive force that is "whitewashing" or the "American mold?" Do you know that the qipao is also not a purely Han Chinese cultural product, but influenced and adapted from another tribe(s) in China, among other things?

Of course that's not what you meant. I get it. My point here is to show how decrying this^ as "Americanization" without leaving room for other legitimate reasoning is itself Americentric.

"This is whitewashing; you guys just don't know it yet! They're being stripped off of their cultural background to fit into an American mold!" The non-American, who proposed a different viewpoint, are being told. But this isn't an American mold. This is a more of a modern mold—a bland fashion trend one could even say are

(1) fostered by the lack of options we have as consumers when it comes to fashion,

(2) the homogeneity of fashion sense propagated by celebrities (of different origins, I have to stress, but nonetheless they are rather homogenous because these are essentially one small elite group's preferred aesthetics being marketed toward a diverse population of different tastes),

(3) one of the safest ways to "look presentable" in the modern era when you don't want to spend too much time fussing over it, but sweatshirts, sweatpants etc. are not acceptable under your current circumstances,

and more.

It's a whole web of cause-and-effects, not a single line of it—which these-detestable-hands' arguments provide. So why dismiss them?

I suggest reading The Lies That Bind by Kwame Anthony Appiah, a Ghanian British-American philosopher. His chapter on "Culture" is exclusively devoted to topics like these, including the Americentric assumptions I marked out just now, but the entire book is a meditation on identities as a whole.

----

Also: no, the idea of "revenge is good" is not believed by Christians or "people brainwashed by Christianity" only. Revenge is simply retributive justice done by an individual, and the idea of retributive justice itself predates Christianity. It is seen in the Code of Hammurabi, an ancient Babylonian legal code, for example. It's just an instinctive way of exacting justice, hence seemingly "good." I don't know what made you think it's a Christian idea, nor what examples had made you come away with that understanding.

Or maybe I misunderstood what you wrote there. In that case, my bad.

----

Important addendum (to avoid having people misunderstand my position):

I did not say Americanization is not a real phenomenon. I'm a Chi-Eng translator and my translation guide is explicitly made to follow American localization regardless of the reader-base's preferred English. That's one of the many examples of it.

What I'm saying is that this particular case is not a strong case of example of "Americanization", and that the other person's arguments also legitimate.

My friend blocked me because I wouldn’t stop sending him this picture

#Usually don't do this but this is an exception #Pie's arguments were just so unfairly characterized and dismissed. And I think I can add onto her stuff.#By someone who gives a seriously shoddy “explanation” for their equally questionable comparison.#I just can't look away when I think something is not right.#Even if I got something wrong (and I won't be surprised. There's a lot of stuff I don't know too)#I would like to be corrected by good arguments and nuances. Not something like what Pie got.#That said I am NOT turning “weighing in on discourse” into a habit.#if there are good arguments I will muse about them as perspectives to consider. I don't need to say something necessarily.

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l3monsoda · 5 years ago

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quarantine tag game, tagged by @ribbonreverse thanks for tagging me!!

1. Are you staying home from work/school?:

Well see it’s kind of funny. Right before the stay at home orders came down on us I was planning a two month leave from work to finish up my schooling which is entirely online which is what I am doing currently so technically. I work drive through so work is still running but I’m not there.

2. Who is at home with you?:

My bed ridden chronically ill mother and my father. I room with my parents so I can afford school bills on a part-time salary. Plus my mom has been pretty sick for the last few years and can really be out of bed for more than a few hours at time. So in a way not much has changed for her in the quarantine with is both a good thing and incredibly sad. Having me here heps tough tbh my dad is pulling most of the weight lately, he does all out running around so mom and I can stay home. (I have the same illness as my mother just not as bad)

3. Are you a homebody?:

Yes incredibly so. Sometimes I take week vacations just to shut myself up in a room and not talk to anybody and be blissfully alone consuming massive amounts of media and making art. I need way more alone time than the average person I think. This quarantine has still been hard though. I REALLY REALLY miss the movie theater. When things are hard and I want to forget I go see a movie and obviously I can’t right now. I also really miss craft stores.

4. Any event you were looking forward to that got canceled?:

Not really as stated before I don’t really do much. Easter dinner getting canceled was honestly a relief for me my extended family is something of a double edge sword. However I DO hope that everything opens back up in time for the Medieval Faire around here. I go every year in full costume and I had some really fun idea’s for this year.

5. What movies have you been watching recently? :

I finally got around to watching Promare which was really good, loved the art style, I watched endless and a dark song(very bad quarantine choices lol), I saw Emma and really enjoyed it,I re watched muppets most wanted, into the spiderverse, and hail Caesar, all of which I really love, I just watched the Willoughbys and really loved the stylized cg animation. My sister and I are getting together to watch the Ms. Fischer movie tomorrow and I am very much looking forward to that.

6. What are you doing for self care? Does eating count?:

Cause I eat more regularly now that we are in quarantine than I did when I was working. I went from maybe one meal a day to 2-3. Also I am trying to make a pointed effort not to think too hard about the weight I’ve gained. When I almost never ate it didn’t matter that I ate crap foods but now that I am eating regularly it does. Plus I get out for walks less right now.

7. What shows are you watching?:

DC’s Harley Quinn (it is hilarious if you like dark humor which I do), Owl House, but not much else right now I am not a huge fan of the show media format. The way narratives tend to get structured for TV really irks me. I like miniseries better. Plus I’m not of a web comic kind of person.

8. What music have you been listening to?:

So much music you guys, all the music. but mostly I listen to my study playlist while I’m working. Stuff with enough of a beat to keep me motivated but not likely to pull me out of my work, it’s mostly Marian Hill (The lady who did Down) with some Billie Eilish and Halsey sprinkled in along some stuff by Avia and other random artists.

9. What books are you reading?:

I recently read Things in Jars by Jess Kidd and if you like that whole Victorian when medicine was a fine line between civilized and barbaric aesthetic with some aquatic monsters and ridiculously painful pinning between a woman and a ghost I def recommend it. After reading The Alchemist’s Daughter I have really developed a liking for these kinds of things. I am also reading Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead by Brene and it’s all about the way we let shame take over our lives.

Thanks for tagging me in this hope i didn’t over share (kind of super guilty of that lol) I love these kinds of things please keep tagging me!

Anyone who bothered to read this consider yourself tagged. lol

#l3monsoda #soda rambles #tag game #thanks again #why am I incapable of brevity?????

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deliriumsdelight7 · 3 years ago

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The Language of Flowers

.Hey @killingkueen

It’s your gifter for the @rumbellegiftswap

Here’s your gift fic! Hope you enjoy!

(I also hope I’m tagging correctly, I suck at Tumblr)

As Belle stepped through the front entrance of the Rabbit Hole, the dive bar’s seedy atmosphere washed over her. Loud rock and roll music blared from the jukebox in the far corner, and the astringent scent of alcohol hit her in a wave. The place wasn’t empty by any means, but it wasn’t full, either. Patrons milled about the darkened corners of the room, or hustled at the billiard tables, or slumped over their drinks at the bar.

She sighed. She didn’t really care for places like this, to be honest. But it was late - sometime after nine PM - and in a small town like this, most places didn’t stay open late. There was a diner nearby that was still open, probably because it was attached to what Belle assumed was the town’s sole hotel. But Belle had already eaten; she didn’t want to put out the staff by loitering. That left her only two options: endure the cheap drinks and grating din of the seedy bar, or go back to her dad’s place and spend the rest of the night listening to his passive-aggressive grumbling. The choice was an easy one.

Belle eyed the bar. There was only one unoccupied stool: on the right hand side, second one from the end. To the left was a young blonde woman with her back to the empty seat, her attention occupied with the man next to her - her boyfriend, judging by their warm looks and light touches. To the right of the empty seat, a man in a charcoal gray, pinstriped suit, his long brown hair curling slightly at his collar.

Read More on AO3

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #why am I incapable of brevity

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big-ass-magnet · 6 years ago

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If you don't do Demands of the Qun, the Chargers live, but Bull remains loyal to the qun. If you leave him behind, he'll arrive through a side door to fight you on Viddasala's orders anyway.

Consider Krem.

Consider Krem, who sits in a chair on Bull's bad side, to be his eyes, so the chief can relax when he's off-duty. Consider Krem, who trusts Bull with his life, but knows he can get up to some truly hair-brained shenanigans when left on his own, and watches him as often as he watches the room.

Consider Krem seeing Bull slip out of the tavern, silently, without a word to anyone, with his jaw set and his eye sharp. Consider Krem feeling unease in the pit of his stomach, an unshakable feeling that something is up. Consider Krem following, quietly.

Bull is good at what he does, but he's focused on his mission and he's taught Krem well. Consider the Iron Bull and his shadow passing unseen, both driven by a duty and loyalty of very different kinds.

The Iron Bull arrives to join the fight, on the wrong side, on the right side, to prove himself a traitor and a loyal soldier.

Krem knows Iron Bull is a qunari, knows he is Ben Hassrath, but it's one thing to know a fact and another thing to know. The Iron Bull does not act like a qunari. He sings dirty songs and he drinks and he laughs too loud and he fucks like it's going out of style.

Consider Krem, for the first time, seeing Hissrad.

No hard feelings, bas.

In this version of the story, Iron Bull's loyalty was never tested. He never had to make a sacrifice, one way or the other. This is the story where Iron Bull could have it both ways, where he could continue his knife-edge dance between Tal Vashoth and Qunari.

But in being both, he is also neither, and when Krem charges in and places himself between Hissrad and the Inquisitor, there is no certainty for the Iron Bull to lean on. The qunari sees an obstacle to be dealt with, but the tal vashoth sees Krem.

"What are you doing, Chief?"

Do the words come? I am doing my duty. Anaan esaam qun. Or do they stick in his throat, hot and raw, because without certainty, the orders made his head swim and his stomach tie into knots, made the faces of the men and women he's fought beside flicker like nightmares in his mind. The qun has been so far and so distant for so long. To have it this close again, is it a comfort? Or a cage? Does he know the difference?

"Get out of the way, Krem."

"No."

Krem is loyal to the Iron Bull first and foremost, but in this world, the tal vashoth world, loyalty is not blind obedience. It's Krem's job to push back, to question schemes, to be the voice of something like reason.

"Don't do this, Chief. This isn't you."

But it is. But it isn't. An order was given. One that Hissrad is compelled to obey. One that the Iron Bull is incapable of obeying.

"You have to go through me first," Krem says, angry, determined, defiant, unflinching. Consider Krem, loyal beyond death, who found a friend and a purpose and a home with the Iron Bull. Whose last thoughts, in another story, were of certainty and trust. He'll come. He'll call. He won't leave us. Horns pointing up. In every story where he stands between Hissrad and Iron Bull, he is not afraid.

There is no version of this story where he dies. When the ax falls, it is from numb fingers, and it rings bloodless against the stones at their feet.

As long as Krem draws breath, Hissrad will always become Iron Bull.

#dai #da:i #iron bull #dragon age #cremisius aclassi #krem #idk where this came from but it got in my head and i couldn't stop thinking about it #i didn't want it to be this long #why are my posts always so long #i am incapable of brevity

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tecceran · 8 months ago

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i have thought about this before so i’m going to add my two cents. (this is long, sorry, i am incapable of brevity)

i think like in the game, the other three should be somewhat established as adventurers and kohane isn’t yet. akito and toya could already be partners and an is still looking for a partner of her own. all of them want to be great adventurers and help people. (maybe ken and the rest of rad weekend could be a legendary adventuring party that killed a dragon or something, and they’re like “retired” now)

at one point kohane’s home village is being attacked by some kind of monster, and an and the bad dogs (separately) are trying to defeat it and save the village. kohane happens to be on the outskirts of town one day (maybe collecting something like mushrooms, berries, or flowers) and that monster stumbles across her. luckily an has been right on its tail this whole time, so she’s there to save kohane! but during the ensuing battle with the monster, it turns out kohane has some talent for adventuring. maybe she instinctively casts a bit of magic or is just able to join an in singing and that somehow that powers up her bard magic.

so an then is so impressed with kohane she asks if kohane will become her adventuring partner. kohane’s living situation is probably less than ideal considering she was desperate enough to be out in the woods alone when there’s a monster known to be lurking around terrorising people, so maybe that’s why she agrees to join up with an. maybe that latent magic in her brings up questions she can’t ignore. maybe she secretly always dreamed of being an adventurer too, she just never thought it was realistic. whatever reason, kohane joins up with an and they do go do adventuring things trying to turn a profit by helping people.

i imagine since they’re just partnerships and still kinda younger, both an and akito and toya stick around a general area (all of the little villages and towns around one major city). so an knows about the fact the bad dogs have a similar goal to her. after teaming up with kohane, maybe another monster is reported in whatever tavern or place these things are posted in, and both pairs are there together and hear about it at the same time. an thinks it’ll be a good first adventure for kohane, but akito thinks kohane isn’t cut out for adventuring because she has no training or experience. so he says he and toya are gonna find the monster and beat it first.

mita is there (because i love vbs npcs and i say so) and also overhears this. and he decides to back up akito’s words by sabotaging their monster hunting. he follows an and kohane so he can buff up the monster or summon more when they encounter it, hoping kohane will run away scared and will prove she’s not cut out for adventuring.

an and kohane do succeed in finding the monster before the guys, and kohane has learned a simple spell and got outfitted with a weapon for defense. it’s going well, but then mita does his sabotage thing and accidentally calls way more monsters or in some way causes a much bigger threat than any of these guys really think they can handle. so he scrams.

when fleeing, mita bumps into akito and toya, who were also hot on the monster’s trail, and he tells them how he fucked up and there’s way too many monsters. akito is pissed that mita did something so reckless and frankly stupid, but he lets him go and runs to help. even if akito thinks kohane’s not cut out for this, he’s not going to just let them get killed.

akito and toya show up to find the drastically escalated situation. kohane maybe got too scared and overwhelmed to cast magic anymore, but an is still managing to hold the monsters off. the guys help out and they’re able to take out the threat together.

an maybe realised that someone had summoned more monsters, and how dangerous it was. akito doubles down like he does in game that kohane was not cut out for adventuring. going on some rant about how true adventurers don’t back down from anything. an accuses him of summoning the monsters, and akito takes the blame and he and toya head off.

toya hears akito’s rant and thinks about how he ran away from his father’s intense training to be a knight or something. akitoya break up ensues. toya tells akito that adventuring is dumb and you’re needlessly and stupidly seeking out danger. akito probably more or less ran away from home to pursue adventuring, and it means the whole world to him to be an adventurer and help people like how he was saved by the legendary ken when he was younger. so he attacks toya and runs off on his own and shit.

an and kohane run into toya again, i guess maybe ken has bed and breakfast or tavern, and he tells them about breaking up his partnership with akito and how akito lied about summoning the monsters.

someone else in the place overhears akito’s name and tells them all how akito ran off alone to defeat a really powerful monster and all that. and toya does really care for akito and wants to go after him and save him. an and kohane come too because toya’s gonna need all the help he can get, and they do owe them for the other time. ken tells toya that he doesn’t think adventuring is about never backing down period, but rather about never giving up on a problem. and sometimes you have to try a different approach. sure toya doesn’t want to defend people as a knight, but he wants to protect people as an adventurer, just like akito.

idk ken is too old for adventuring or had some major injury in his final battle or something. so he can’t go with. but toya, kohane, and an go chase after akito. they catch up to him just at the last second as he’s about to get overwhelmed by the monster and help him out. they defeat the monster together. akitoya reunion moment, the boys apologize for things.

at this point either they just decide they work well together as an adventuring party and can overcome stuff together they couldn’t do alone. or if you wanted to include sekai maybe miku in some way delivers them a prophecy where they need to work together to prevent some grand destruction. either way they can now venture out into the adventuring world. the others help kohane learn stuff, but she’s probably just really naturally talented like in game so she managed to keep up.

if there are any other dnd and pjsk players out there, how would you make a more fantastical version of the vbs backstory if they were a party of bards? asking for uhhh uh uhh jay

#oh god #long post #once again sorry this is so long #i hope you enjoy this or it helps?#i love vbs so much i have so many au ideas for them #actually doing this makes me think maybe i should get all my notes together and make a post about my twewy au #anyway sorry again for clowning/dumping this on your post op #tech.speaking

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invisiblegarters · 2 years ago

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Eternal Yesterday Ep 4 Thoughts

This drama, man. It somehow manages to get just a little better every single week - how does it do that? Japan is killing it at the end of the year again, only this time I have no confidence that my heart won’t wind up ripped right out of my chest at the end.

As with last week, I’m incapable of either objectivity or brevity. I blame these two:

This friend group is great. Even from episode one they seemed like a group who knew each other well and were comfortable with each other (and I was utterly tickled by the “this again *eyeroll*” reactions that Hashimoto and the Class Prez had to Koichi going on about Mitsuru’s cuteness in that ep. Said so much with so little). And I am glad that they explained the whole thing with Kagami, because now it is starting to make everyone’s acceptance of Koichi as the Living Dead Boy make a little more sense. They’re already used to weird and inexplicable. Also they make me laugh. From Hashimoto’s “Morning! Still dead, then?” to how excited Kagami was to see a demon in the flesh (so to speak).

Dying.

I think that she and Mitsuru are the only two following the conversation enough to understand that Koichi might be feeding off of Mitsuru. I could be wrong, but that is how I interpreted that little nod between them. But it’s probably only a matter of time before Koichi figures it out, and then I think we’ll see him start to pull away. As if he isn’t horrified enough by himself already.

Mitsuru’s house is so gorgeous and so sterile. It seems like the kind of place where you can’t actually live, because you might mess something up. But I don’t think Koichi notices:

I’d be kinda worried it was a zombie thing if there weren’t a dozen examples of Koichi looking at Mitsuru like that already. Best part? Now Mitsuru is looking back just as fondly.

I’m struck by how stark the difference is between the way he acted in the flashbacks vs. the way he is in pretty much this whole episode. And can I just say how much more attractive Mitsuru is when he’s making expressions? I’ve never liked him so much as I do this episode.

The mom stuff just breaks my heart. I don’t know why, but I’d assumed she was a loving mother (I had also assumed she was dead, fwiw). Poor Mitsuru, with a distant dad and a strict mom who never touched him. No wonder he didn’t recognize Koichi’s love for what it was, sheesh. And no wonder he’s embracing the whole “Living Dead Boyfriend” concept. Who wouldn’t, if it meant that they didn’t have to let go of the one person that they knew loved them? I’m not crying, you’re crying (no, it’s me. It’s going to be me a lot I think).

I am glad that we had some reaction from Koichi about being dead. He was so happy go lucky in episode two, not really seeming to care, and it threw me a bit. I am also completely fascinated with him finding himself disgusting and thinking that Mitsuru must too (I kind of love how it never occurs to him that Mitsuru feels absolutely the same as Koichi would if the situations were reversed). And Mitsuru is just lovely here with his reassurance.

And then this drama proceeds to destroy all my expectations by not only serving good kiss:

But also bringing the heat:

Koichi went full seme in a way I did not expect holy shit. Although that makes his reaction when Kagami asks if they did something special that night even more hilarious. Chill, thy name is not Koichi.

So I had to eat all my words about JBLs and dead fishies, not that I’m complaining. I’d already come around to the idea that the kiss in the previous episode fit where the characters were at the time, but this solidified it.

Okay WTF is up with the teachers? I’m officially curious. But also when I saw this:

I have to admit my first reaction was “we already have our zombie member, my dude.”

Next week: more cuddles! And I’m guessing the teachers find out about Koichi. I guess we are going to see what happens with his family, which I was wondering about and which I know will probably wind up breaking my heart, like so much of this drama is set to do. Bring it on, I guess. I mostly knew what I was signing up for.

#eien no kino #eternal yesterday

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stellocchia · 3 years ago

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Since I really enjoyed yesterday's stream I decided to do one of my overly long analysis on it

So, here's my analysis of (DSMP LORE) Healthy Competition

Dialogues will be color-coded as usual, so here's what I used: Phil, Wilbur, Ranboo

As always I am incapable of brevity, so everything's under the cut

The stream starts with a conversation between Phil and Wilbur in which Wilbur admits that he hasn't been to visit Phil in a while, which makes Phil's later threat about throwing him out feel that much more ridiculous since Wilbur clearly doesn't really live with him either way...

"Alright, it's got one for Phil, one for Ranboo, and one for Techno. Is that all that live here? Just you three?" "Yep, just us three, just chilling"

The only reason why I'm singling this out is that it was right after the mention of Techno's birthday and Wilbur was pointing at the seats occupied by the 4 members of the Syndicate so it feels slightly weird that Niki wasn't mentioned at all. But also it's technically not a lie, she doesn't live there and she only comes around for the Syndicate meetings.

Another thing to add is that Wilbur did notice the chest Ranboo left for him and consciously decided to ignore it.

"I must admit I've come to you with a bit of a- a bit of a proposition. You're into propositions Phil? Are you a bit of a 'propositions' kinda guy?" "Oh, depends, depends. You- you've had some pretty... let- let's just say, uh- not- not a great track record on propositions that you've had in the past" "Alright... I mean, I'm trying to move past that"

I wonder what exactly Phil is referring to here. Because, like, Wilbur did bad things, don't get me wrong, but what's his track record with "propositions" in particular? Because he isn't talking about "Tommy, let's be the bad guys" here since he doesn't know about that. Is he talking about Wilbur founding L'Manburg? But then again, I don't think Wilbur interpreted it that way. I think that, from Wilbur's reaction, he clearly interpreted it as a jab at him exploding L'Manburg (which is the one thing he's trying to move past) which would be extremely hypocritical from Phil since he did the exact same thing but worse.

Also, I really do think that Wilbur is trying to move forward. He's lonely and he has the lowest possible opinion of himself so it doesn't feel weird that he'd want to move on. He isn't putting the work in it right now and he hasn't really changed, but he does seem to want to (though I think he may not know how).

"He [Quackity] didn't seem afraid of me, which is cool. Not many people- I mean you don't seem afraid of me. You aren't afraid of me, are you Phil?" (little look into Wilbur's mind and his fear of isolation once again. And this is fear of isolation, he's worried that other people are afraid of him and therefore are only waiting for him to step out of line so that all their fears would be confirmed)

"'Cause I'm not afraid of you [Phil]" (bold words for someone who spent who knows how long lying to his dad because of a crippling fear of disappointment...)

"Technoblade spent his entire time taking down the establishments, what he left is, as predicted, a power vacuum for a new establishment to come in" (in case it wasn't obvious, Wilbur is not the biggest fan of anarchy. And he actually got this one criticism spot on, indeed all taking down L'Manburg did was getting 4 new governmental-like structures to sprout in its place)

"Phil, I want to make a burger van" *Phil sighs and walks away* (I'm more sure now that Phil really meant "creating L'Manburg" as Wilbur's bad track record with propositions)

Wilbur repeating 4 times that he has no ulterior motive with the burger van managed to make me think the exact opposite. That said that ulterior motive may just be to create a safe little home for himself and Tommy for all we know honestly. Also, the whole thing with Phil trying to convince his grown-ass kid to go play with the neighbor kid and Wilbur throwing a tantrum in response was hilarious...

"If he's [Ranboo] shit you gotta come help me okay? If he's shit you've gotta come be burger boy with me, okay?" (he still is mistrustful to an extreme and pretty childish admittedly)

"Why is he [Phil] treating me like a kid?! Why is he treating me like a little baby?" (remembering how Wilbur treated Fundy I think it may be a family problem)

Another interesting thing to point out is that Wilbur was openly scared of the spider attacking him here, and fights it off, but he doesn't move away from the explosion later on and he didn't move away from the exploding creepers last stream. Other people already made this connection, but I do think it may be a sort of way to punish himself. Specifically, it's brought up later on that he thinks he got off easy for what he did, so he's using what he hurt others with (explosions) to hurt himself now as a sort of punishment for that. Which is another indication of just how much his stay in Limbo didn't help with his mental health.

"Am I being- is this [Ranboo having both cows and wheat] a setup?" (the paranoia never left)

"Ranboo I'm gonna go out on a limb here: do- do you wanna be friends?" "Su-sure yeah, I don't see why not" (I think that at this point it was still just Wilbur following along with what his dad told him to do and trying to find out more about Ranboo. That does seem to change later down the line)

"And then we decided that it [the 'cookie' outpost] was too much trouble so we kinda just left it" (So we have confirmation that the cookie outpost was abandoned)

"We're not gonna annoy Quackity" "That's good" "We can't annoy- we can't annoy him because we're simply put- we're simply put gonna be making...- I got the real estate! He's giving me the area and we're gonna be making a competing business"

Wilbur says this as if he wasn't perfectly aware that this would annoy the sh*t out of Quackity. As if the point of it wasn't exactly to annoy Quackity. Or well, annoying him isn't the end goal, it's just the means to an end. We don't know the actual end goal (though I think Wilbur still wants to either be let into Las Nevadas or actually instate a rivalry between them as he said, one of the two).

"We [he and Quackity] were a part of the same cabinet during New L'Manburg or whatever" "Cabinet?" "Yeah a cabinet is like-" "Was this- was this with Tubbo?" "Yeah yeah" (...) "So you were part of the old L'Manburg? I didn't know that actually, I thought you were a bit of an independent"

Once again: Wilbur is missing A LOT of knowledge. He wasn't aware that New L'Manburg had a cabinet and he wasn't aware that Ranboo was ever part of the country either. He has a lot of misconceptions about what happened during the time he was dead so it really shouldn't be a surprise to anyone that his views on a lot of things are as warped as they are. Wilbur is getting to his conclusions with an incomplete and sometimes wrong set of data.

"Do you dislike anyone Ranboo?" "Not too much I don't think. I mean there are other people I don't, like, agree with what they've done of course, but I think that everyone is just a product of what they've gone through and everything so if you understand that then you understand the person!"

There is nothing inherently wrong with Ranboo's reasoning here. It's true that most people are a result of their environment and, once you understand what they've been through you can understand them better as a person. It's also fine that he personally doesn't want to hold grudges. But that way of thinking isn't applicable to those who have been hurt by others, sure they can reach an understanding, but an understanding of a person doesn't justify shit and doesn't change shit unless that person works towards repairing old broken relationships. It just all sounds like a nice way of thinking about things in theory, but in practice, it just takes away responsibility from those who have wronged others to fix things and moves it to those who have been wronged. (Ranboo isn't advocating for everyone to think that way though, but I know the fandom will).

Either way, they arrive in Las Nevadas and Wilbur talks about how their place doesn't benefit the consumer and puts down 3 signs.

"I've been trying to think of a name for it [his and Tommy's area], I'm thinking about 'Paradise'"

There are two possible reasons for the name that I can think of:

1) It's in reference to Las Nevadas itself and how Las Nevadas is based on Las Vegas, the famous city of sin

2) It could be a reference to Tommy insistently calling Las Nevadas Paradise in the last stream and Wilbur trying to convince him that their place is the true Paradise

Wilbur does decide to make the Burger Van right at the border which really feels like a very obvious provocation. The other thing is that he makes it clear that he wants the van to be red and white which could be a random choice, but really feels like a reference to Tommy (since they are famously his colors) or an imitation of their opposition. Or both considering how much Tommy liked the restaurant of the opposition and the fact that Wilbur is still trying to convince him to stay.

"I'm not very fond of blue" (at this point it's obvious that Wilbur has quite a bit of pent-up animosity against Ghostbur. I wonder if it is because it still feels like people liked the ghost more than him...)

"Like, the Cookie Shop, I don't even know if it was a cookie shop, to begin with, because it was a little... fortified if I'm entirely honest, I realize that now" "Really?" "Yeah did you not see- oh wait- that giant stone structure?" (Ranboo really did fail to realize that the cookie shop was actually a military outpost, huh?)

"See, I like Tubbo. He's strong-headed, he doesn't let people push him around, you know?" (this is both an interesting change in what he thinks of Tubbo if he actually thinks that and further confirmation that Wilbur isn't a fan of people he considers to be 'followers')

"Why do you claim that you're so 'peaceful' and 'neutral' and yet somehow appear in almost every conflict this server's had since I died?" (since I saw people claiming this is manipulation already, just know that it isn't. He's just confused because, admittedly, Ranboo is a confusing guy and Wilbur doesn't really know him at all)

"Ranboo, why did you come to help me?" (...) "And then also I just think, you know... you can, you know- I think- I think you're an alright person, you know? So I wanna- I did kinda wanna get off on a better foot with you then what happened-" "Why?" "Just because I don't really like having the thought that people don't really like me" "Nonononono not the bit about the right foot, the 'why don't you think I'm a bad person'" "Well I mean, I think that you did bad things, but like, I think that you also went through things that made you that way and then I also think that you've changed now (...) but I think that now you've- apparently you've been away long enough that I think that if anyone goes away for that long eventually they'll have a thought about their morality and everything and maybe become a better person because of it"

I know this quote was absurdly long, but it is one of the most interesting conversations of the whole stream and it is really important and it tells us quite a bit as well. For one thing Wilbur was left quite emotional from someone simply admitting that he's an "alright person" and that they think he's capable of changing and this does bring him to open up to Ranboo right after. What Ranboo says to be exact is that anyone would have changed after going through what Wilbur went through and that change could be positive and while I completely disagree with it, it's clearly something that Wilbur needed to hear.

Now as to why I disagree with the notion that 13 years of semi-complete isolation could change anyone for the better should be rather obvious. But if it isn't, well, that's torture to put it simply. Psychological torture. Just like abuse it's one of those things that only cause trauma and a worsening mental health state and we see this with Wilbur because he didn't change, he only became more self-deprecating. Hurting someone doesn't make them become a better person all of a sudden, that's really not how it works. Hurting someone makes them become more traumatized.

"I think I scare people" ( as I said, immediately opening up about his insecurities)

"I think that a lot of people share your idea, but they share your idea in trying to- trying to keep me from hurting them" (for a bit here Wilbur talks about how he feels like everyone else is just waiting for him to step a foot out of line, which does really show that he's still interpreting all his interactions with people through the lens of his paranoia and self-deprecation, because no one is really interacting with him with that objective in mind)

"Dream's had his comeuppance and I've not" (this seems to be the crux of Wilbur's insecurity. This idea that he got off scot-free for his crimes, the idea that the only difference between him and Dream is the punishment that's been bestowed upon them which, of course, is wrong, but he doesn't know this, because he doesn't actually know why Dream's in prison)

"I've been investing into the wrong areas Ranboo, I've been investing into the wrong people" (This is either a reference to Tommy, to Phil, to Quackity, or to all of them)

"We're kindred man, we get each other" (the reason why he thinks that is because he seems to think that Ranboo has a similar type of paranoia to what Wilbur experience himself and he's not entirely wrong. Ranboo is deathly afraid of conflict and of being disliked so much so that he never stands up for anything in fear of angering others)

Little definition of "neuroticism" for you all since Wilbur kept mentioning it: neuroticism, one of the Big 5 personality traits, is typically defined as a tendency toward anxiety, depression, self-doubt, and other negative feelings.

I'd say it's quite fitting for both characters...

"I feel like life dealt us the same cards and the difference is that you built your trust by showing people your cards whilst I- I keep them close to my chest and I feel like that may be the big difference" (I felt like this was interesting. Especially knowing how much Ranboo actually doesn't share and how much he actually also keeps close to his chest)

They talk about tubbo in general for a bit and about what's been going on the server in general. Ranboo also that he's part of both Snowchester and the arctic commune (mostly the latter though).

"This has been chill, this has been good, I'm excited to show Tommy. What's your opinion on Tommy?" "Oh, he's- he's great. Tommy's awesome" "I agree I agree" "Definitely gone through a lot but I think that it's made him a good person" "Well you seem to think that everyone going through something at least gives them some merit you said" "I mean, yeah. I mean if- if no one- the only really bad people are the ones who are just evil because- just because and they don't have any reason why"

Included the whole thing here because if I stopped at Ranboo saying that Tommy going through trauma is what made him a good person it would have sounded really bad. As things are I think that that was just poor wording on his part and that this mostly goes back to the mentality he expressed before about how people sometimes do bad things because of the environment they're in pushing them and this idea he seems to have that actual hardships (like 13 years in Limbo or whatever he knows about what Tommy has been through) can encourage people to be better which is... sort of naive honestly. Again, trauma isn't a catalyst for the betterment of a person, and any improvement Tommy has made came from his self-reflection, not what he's been through.

After they're done with the van Wilbur brings Ranboo to their competing establishment and asks him to smash the windows, which Ranboo does with no hesitation whatsoever. After that Wilbur proceeds to place down one single block of TNT in a corner and Ranboo starts being a little more hesitant.

"You trust me right?" (I feel like that was a trick question considering how their common paranoia is the thing that Wilbur praised in Ranboo before)

Wilbur hands Ranboo the flint and steel to detonate the piece of TNT which Ranboo does, albeit with some hesitation.

"You passed the test, good job man, you go back to the van (...) Ranboo- Ranboo... I'm proud of you man. You've taken a side, you've proven that you can choose a side"

Quite a few people have already pointed out how similar this scene was to the time Wilbur tested Tommy in season 1 to decide if he was fit to be his right-hand man. In both situations, Wilbur gave someone a chance to cause some destruction against someone on the opposite side. Tommy passed the test by refusing to do so and showing that he was willing to uphold his morals and what he believed in. Ranboo passed the test by doing the exact opposite, by showing that, as much as he talks about how he chooses people and not sides, he's not willing to prove that even when all he would need to do to do so is doing nothing.

And it's an interesting scene to analyze as a parallel to that, but it's also interesting to note that Wilbur knows about Ranboo and Tommy griefing George together. He knows that Tommy was the only one to face any consequences for it (not that exile was actually the consequence for the griefing, but this is from Wilbur's point of view). Now putting this in the context of Wilbur seeing himself in Ranboo and thinking that he himself got off scot-free explains this next part perfectly in my opinion.

It explains why he made sure to leave this sign:

To me at least. This is only a theory honestly, we don't have an actual full explanation. But I do think that Wilbur may feel like the both of them never got the comeuppance they deserved, which is why he did something that's sure to get a reaction from one of the most powerful people on the server. Though considering that he also left 2 diamonds as retribution + a chest with all the materials he picked up it could have also been Wilbur's idea of a bonding moment and he could actually really be proud of Ranboo.

#long post #dream smp #wilbur soot #philza #ranboo #c!wilbur #c!ranboo #dream smp analysis #character analysis #stream analysis #tw self-harm #tw self-deprecation #tw torture mention #tw abuse mention #I'm sure there are plenty of things I missed #but this was all for now

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theywontletmebeprincipal · 7 months ago

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ok I am STILL hung up on this unfortunately so here’s a breakdown of why this lyric sucks balls (perhaps even sucks them during a game of grand theft auto)

first off — this goes deeper than “it just sounds clunky”. while “there is no syllabic consistency between phrases” is a criticism I could levy at the bulk of this album, and it’s definitely still an issue here, that’s not actually my problem with this lyric in particular.

to get why this lyric really sucks we have to talk about my good friend the double entendre:

these bad boys are everywhere in every kind of creative writing, as they’re a very fun device to employ. here’s a great example that you’ve probably seen around the internet:

this is a one-liner from the cat in the hat (2003 live action film), spoken directly after the titular cat is hit in the face with a garden hoe. we as an audience fully understand that “dirty hoe” in this context is a disparaging remark directed at an inanimate object, but we also understand that the phrase “dirty ho(e)” isn’t normally used that way — it’s much more commonly used as an insult towards a person who’s alleged to be, well, a ho. the humor here comes from the fact that the cat is saying a funny sex phrase in a completely nonsexual situation.

but this is only half of why the double entendre works. it also works because, and this is absolutely crucial, if the audience only interprets the line in the most literal surface-level way (eg. insulting the garden hoe) it still makes complete sense. there are millions of small children who saw the cat in the hat (2003 live action film) with no idea that the phrase “dirty hoe” could mean anything other than what it was literally presented as on screen. for them, “dirty hoe” was just a throwaway line where the cat expresses his frustration with an everyday object. with double entendre it is essential that if an audience member doesn’t pick up on the secondary meaning, that still doesn’t interfere with the effectiveness of the literal interpretation.

“dirty hoe”, as silly as it is, exemplifies this perfectly. a small child might wonder why a parent/older sibling/cousin/whatever thought the line was funny when they didn’t, but that’s really the extent of the ways that “dirty hoe” could hypothetically break immersion.

with all this clarified, let’s return to taylor swift.

there’s a clear attempt at double entendre in this lyric, with the crux of it being that “heroin” and “heroine”, two VERY different things, sound the same when said out loud. here’s a handy diagram for anyone who might not know the difference:

for now, let’s ignore the clunky phrasing of the actual lyric and pretend travis (I am like 80% sure this song is about travis) had instead said something along the lines of “you’re my heroin(e)”. this is a great double entendre, as it has two clear cut meanings, one innocent and one risqué:

1. “you’re my heroine”, meaning “you’re my hero”.

2. “you’re my heroin”, meaning “you, and our relationship as a whole, is wildly addictive. when I’m with you I feel happier than is normally humanly possible and I don’t know if I can function without you”.

at this point, you might be thinking “sander, you’ve just proven that the the lyric works perfectly fine. what’s your deal?”. in response I would like to highlight the fact that I Had To Fundamentally Change The Lyric For It To Make Sense. because taylor swift — a woman who is incapable of brevity — has not written “you’re my heroin(e)”, she has written “it’s like heroin, but this time with an e”.

in that phrasing, swift has forsaken The Second Rule Of Double Entendre — the saying must still make sense if only one of two meanings is understood. “you’re my heroine” and “you’re my heroin” both stand on their own as lyrics despite their wildly different meanings, and both independently make sense within the context of a song about extreme devotion. “it’s like heroin […] with an e” only works if the listener not only knows both meanings of the word, but also that one is spelled with an e and one without — not to mention the fact that there is a time limit on this pun, as this is something the listener has to extrapolate before the song moves onto its next words lest they get completely lost for the rest of the song or (god forbid) have to break their immersion and pause it.

which is to say a good double entendre should have depth, yes, but it should also just click. in fact here’s an example I’ve been saving for just now of that click happening using, I shit you not, THE EXACT SAME JOKE AS TAYLOR:

youtube

I’m not going to bog us down in Saw Lore (today), but I’ll give the necessary context — this character, amanda, is a former heroin addict turned sober serial killer/torture enthusiast. she views herself as a heroine (with an e) for all the torture she’s doing because having a torturous near-death experience is what shocked her back into control of her own life, and she’s now providing the same “service” for other people that she sees her old self in.

when amanda says “I’m your heroin(e)” it’s once again meant in both senses of the word — she’s a “heroine” because she thinks that she’s doing something heroic, but she’s also “heroin” because, in reality, she’s slowly breaking apart and often eventually killing the people she attaches herself to. however, the second meaning is still just an added layer and the lyrics works just as well if you only ever interpret them as saying “hero”. the actual drug heroin is only mentioned once, towards the end, after the heroine/heroin pun has been repeated in the chorus ad nauseam and been given full time to click with the audience. in fact, you can actually hear the pun clicking every time an audience member laughs at a seemingly non-comedic line.

I bring this example up to show that double entendre doesn’t always have to be lighthearted comedy like the cat in the hat (2003 live action film)’s is, and to highlight how “taylor’s work isn’t meant to be funny, so she shouldn’t have to follow proper joke technique” doesn’t make sense as a rebuttal, which will hopefully dissuade anyone from making that claim. it isn’t just proper joke technique to nail a double entendre correctly, it’s proper writing technique. the non-swift examples I’ve shown you simply wouldn’t work as well if the cat had said “you’re a dirty ho, but with an e”, or if amanda had said “I’m your heroin, but with an e” (although unlike swift, she would’ve at least had the proper context in her song to attempt pulling that off).

all of this is of course to say that yes, the lyric is clunky, but more importantly the lyric is confusing. at best it’s a noticeable stumble in the prose, something that makes you go “huh? did I hear that right?”, and at worst it’s completely immersion-shattering.

I’ve noticed that the most common defense of this album (which I’m sure I’ll see in my notes if this post even remotely escapes containment) is “the lyrics aren’t bad, they just make you stop and think”, to which I would ask “think about what?”. there is a major, major difference between stopping to think about a cleverly complicated story, and stopping to think because the thing you just heard made no sense whatsoever. wordiness does not automatically a good piece of writing make, and if brevity is the soul of wit I think we should all stop for a little to question the nature of swift’s.

I think in terms of Dumb Taylor Swift Lyrics we are all really sleeping on “he says it’s like heroin but with an e”

#sanders bullshit #this started out as bullet point but I was compelled to write a whole essay. sorry about that #tonight we fuck music #meta

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joeyjoeylee · 3 years ago

Note

How would you rank the good girl szns?

Oooh, fun question! I’ll put this under a thingie b/c as I have proven time and again, I am incapable of brevity.

I’d go:

1. Season 2 – This one worked on every level for me up to the last 20 minutes or so of the finale.

Too many reasons to list them all, but off the top of my head: the Girls’ interactions together all season. Dean being shot and bleeding out on his own dining room chair after watching the guy who beat the shit out of him caress his wife’s face. Mary Pat acting out “machete.” Those multiple episodes where I thought Boomer was dead and rotting in the ground. 2.04 & 2.09 - I will never know peace again in my life b/c of these. Annie helping Nancy give birth. Dean being dunked on by middle-aged Krav Maga instructors and child hitmen alike. Rio and Beth at a picnic table in the sunshine. Dean being ignored by a trendy hipster bar waitress with a professionalism problem while his wife got railed in the bathroom. The really deep dive into the Stan/Ruby relationship and how the strongest of strong couples were tested in a way that had nothing to do with infidelity (felt so rare and true).

The biggest reason I think though is one Agent James Turner. Holy crap, I loved him in Season 1 and that grew exponentially in Season 2. Such a rounded and nuanced character, a law enforcement antagonist outside the traditional White Hat mold, so cunning and ruthless and funny. And so well-acted, his chemistry with everyone was amazeballs. I laugh every time I think about him and Mary Pat together. I lived for his palpable Boomer disgust, him and Rio going head-to-head, his loaded conversations with Stan. And seriously, the scenes with him and Beth? I think in some ways those two characters saw each other more clearly through all the bullshit they both put on than anyone else saw them. And then to have them both so fully engaged in trying to top the other? Man, that was the shit.

2. Season 1 – I binged this one in two days straight I think (probably less, lol). Just was captivated by it all, the setup, the music, the characters, Eddie breaking a small child’s finger and stuffing half a hotdog in his face, the styling, etc. The pace was frenetic and I think they burned through a lot of story maybe too quick that they could have spun out and drawn more viewers in – but as a binge-watch, it was impossible to beat. It sent me straight to Tumblr and AO3 and I was hyperfixated from the get-go, which is always a fun and frothy feeling!

3. Season 3 – There were a lot of stand alone moments that I loved in Season 3. Ruby seeing how her choices were playing out with Sara. Annie taking steps to grow up (although thumbs down to Dr. Cohen, boo to him for one thousand years). Brio sitting at dark picnic tables processing their anger/don’t-call-it-a-breakup-but-it-was-a-breakup on their beautiful faces.

And after where the writers decided to go in the Season 2 finale (still baffled by this tho), I understood why the writers had to do a lot of things they did to both keep Rio as a character long term and try to make it make sense as to why he wouldn’t just immediately kill all 3 of these women asap. And I understood how this made the overall mood much darker as they tried to work through that (made more difficult by the whole pandemic thing too, etc).

But for me, I liked it better when it was the Girls v. a third-party antagonist like Boomer or Turner or even Mary Pat, with Rio as their Boss/Reluctant Quasi-Partner Not to Be Trusted Yet Still to Be Hooked Up With. So to have Rio be the Big Bad of the season, this was less bueno for me.

There were also things I found….off, for lack of a better word, tonally, like the sort of amnesia that the Girls seemed to develop that Boomer had once framed Annie for felony drug possession which put her in danger of losing custody of her child, oh not to mention had attempted to violently rape Annie and had raped Mary Pat.

I know a lot of people love Season 3 for the angst, and for them I am happy they were well-fed! And I liked it too, overall. But lower than 1 and 2, my one true love.

4. Season 4 – Somebody always has to be last, and that sadly is Season 4. Still loved the characters and the actors too, natch. Was intrigued and excited by the expansion of Rio’s family/backstory. Loved seeing Dean in jail and then being infantilized riding up and down the street like Jane while his wife openly met with her former/current lover who had not only shot him in his own house but also waved to Dean like a dick. The serotonin from that moment, my God.

For the last season though, the fact that so much time was spent with the Girls not interacting as much or plotlines that made me bored as shit (what was that Homeless Guy stuff, I mean seriously, I can't even keep his name in my head it tranquilized me so much) or characters I didn’t care about (I will always love Travis from Clueless but if I had to see his little bike shorts or his tiny face one more time, I’d kill him myself. I’m glad his wife and dicky child hated and disrespected him, because same.) or main characters' actions that were so ambiguous that I had to contort myself into a pretzel to try to make narrative sense. And like most if not all white men, Bill Krebs needs to stop speaking forever b/c much like the creators of Game of Thrones, every time my eyes drifted across something he’d written in an Instagram DM, I got dumber. Also everything he said was either a lie or drastically overexaggerated or offensive, so that was weekly frustrating as well.

Mostly I loved this season b/c it was the last and because I loved reading all the posts and seeing all the gifs and everyone from the community talking together in real time. So that made me happy, even when I was frustrated with the content itself!

#nbc good girls #gg concrit #are you sorry you asked me this anon b/c I went off on a ramble?#please write me back and tell me your rankings too!

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sol-korolevas · 4 years ago

Text

—𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐨 𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭

pairing: rk900 x gn!reader

words: 8.2k+

summary: “there you are, the wound. the warning. what am i, then? the breach?”

warning: super mild violence (for now)

note: gosh writing dbh brings me back to the days where i habitually upload at least one fic to the tag. it’s been several months since my last fic so i’m gonna need to rectify that :3c this work is inspired by a previous fic, but i added more meat into this one. rk900 is such a bastard in my book and i hope i do his bastardness some justice so enjoy!

Never show weakness.

Weakness can be controlled and manipulated. It leaves you vulnerable to the mercy of the enemy; it’ll kill you. But weakness is also a human facet that’s ingrained into the mind. And it’s a remembrance to humanity’s mistakes and proof of the existence of humanity.

Someone told you weakness cannot be shed, but you can tether it and guard it with your ferocity.

And, they said, ferocity is precious.

Wear it like a crown of fangs.

Hold it as a gun, heavy and warm on the flesh of your hand.

“What did you do?”

All of a sudden, you feel the oppressive stare of RK900 pushing down on you. When once you can easily respond in kind, you now feel at a loss.

Control everything, even your weakest emotions.

And yet, you still lost control. You pulled the trigger too early, believing that you had won. After the explosion comes reality, the world shatters, bending forward until it's weight pushes you down onto your knees. The gun in your hand slips out and clatters onto the ground beside you - now just a deadweight. The ringing is loud and you’re not sure if it's from the aftermath of the shooting or from your own mind. You cannot block out the noise no matter how close you press your palm to your ears. Suddenly, you have no idea where everything is anymore. All you can think about is the ‘why’s ‘and the ‘how’s’.

“[Name]!” a familiar voice calls to you and you turn your gaze towards it, eyes watching with a pathetic plea for help. RK900’s icy stare run chills down your spine, even more so when he’s standing tall and looking down upon you like the wraith he is.

He crouches then, setting his gun beside him, his body blocking away the sight behind him as he takes your chin and tilts it up. The gesture is tender, if not for the blankness of his stare.

You sometimes forget he’s incapable of the fundamental kindness humans have. Within his barren heart is just the life force that keeps him moving.

The void in his eyes stare back and you panic, reaching towards his wrist with both of your hands so you can wrap them around it.

He doesn’t let go.

“Why did you shoot the hostage, [Name]?” he murmurs, but the venom in his words is clear. “You were supposed to save it and you failed.” When you don’t respond, he squeezes your chin and, out of instinct, you attempt to stand, almost falling to the ground before RK900 grabs your shoulders and pushes you down.

“Don’t move,” he says. “Just answer my question.”

The flicker of emotion in his words terrifies you and it further reminds you of the catastrophe laid out in front.

“I-I lost control of myself—” you choke out, eyes following RK900’s movement as he stands and walks toward the fallen android.

Time becomes still. The ocean doesn’t smell like an ocean anymore as the scent of red and blue blood bloats the air. Even the gull birds’ cries have been swept away by the chill of the aftermath. Shadow drapes over the cargos; the area you are in is illuminated by dim lights - the strongest of which is cast over the pile of bodies.

The only sound left is the click of his pristine shoes and your heart beating through your ear.

Your body falls forward, elbows keeping you from fully meeting the ground, as you watch him crouch down and take out the thirium pump. There are black wires still connecting it to the android before RK900 rips the pump away. You see the red LED light on the fallen android’s temple blink rapidly until it goes blank.

“What are you doing?” you ask in horror.

“Cleaning up the mess you made, [Name],” Rk900 says, throwing you a brief glance over his shoulder. His words quickly silence you, the brevity of it all coming back after the initial shock of seeing RK900 doing this.

He then takes the kidnapper’s gun and shoots the android in the forehead, before replacing the gun back into the kidnapper’s hand and once more into its chest. The skin on his arm is dissolved - a safety precaution.

The light of his LED circulates yellow and orange as his skin eventually returns. You watch as RK900 begins to search for something, before finding it - a bullet - and picks it up.

He’s feeling the weight of it, moving it around in his hold as if studying the shape. “I’ve wiped the cameras and cleared the android’s memory cache, now no one will know what happened.”

“No, this is wrong,” you quickly say, scrambling up. But before you can move properly, your body tips forward from the fatigue. And RK900 is there to catch you, gripping your waist with one arm. Immediately you rip your gaze away, not wanting him to see you at your most vulnerable anymore.

But in the end, RK900 wins - he always wins - as you turn your gaze to him. You notice the corner of his mouth twitch as if he’s going to smile. Instead, he says,“ ‘This is wrong’? Would it be better if I tell the command what you did then?”

The numbness in your mind stops.

Some sense finally floods in as you disassemble his words. There’s nothing but a grim reality for you if word gets out. If he speaks - if any of you speaks - then the years behind you will truly be lost, forever. And you’ll be marked by the sin you just committed.

But this is no less criminal than what you just did.

And despite it all, the naively moral person in you still wouldn’t relent. “Unfix all of this, RK900.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, [Name],” he says, pressing the hand containing the bullet against yours., “Not when I am saving both of us.”

There’s no ‘but’s’ and ‘if’s’; no hesitations either. It’s either a shaky road ahead or punishment.

You must accept this and with acceptance, you slump your shoulders. But the grip on your waist tightens and you squeak, feeling soreness everywhere on your body.

“So now it’s a secret, and we lie,” you manage to say, forcing yourself to look into RK900’s eyes. But it’s not easy with RK900, despite having a hand in this. The look of superiority so natural to him diminishes all hope of sympathy for your plight. Although you’re not looking for that; you’re now looking for a semblance of peace, more than ever. “Unless—”

Your breath hitches as he tugs you closer, his pale lips brushing too close to the shell of your ear.

“Unless you are not doing what we all agreed to,” he tells you, voice calm and collected. This is now personal to RK900, you can hear it by the hush of his words. He sees some kind of chance, some kind of reason to do what he did.

Except, he has no sense of monetary or material value. You know because he always plays by the book - he’s a military and police assistance designed to assist human officers.

He wants one thing and one thing only.

“You want me to continue to work as a police detective.”

You watch as he chuckles, eyes creasing with a hint of pleasure glimmering underneath his stormy gaze. But the brief look of human emotion feels foreign; it’s a mask he wears. Underneath the light, he looks far more like a fiend.

The thick blocky letters of his name fizzle in and out as you mindlessly cling onto the fabric of his shoulder.

“Absolutely, but you’ll listen to me without question. No more rebellion, no more excuses- you’ll learn from me and build your profession with my assistance.”

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing manages to come out. In the past, he had always made it hard for you. You came in late, he scolds you; you forget a deadline, he scolds you; you talk too much with a coworker, he tells Fowler and then returns to mock you. To RK900, you’re too careless and naive - vastly different from the perfection that he is.

To anyone else, RK900’s condition can be easy - normal even. But you know, underneath his request, is another demand.

Absolute obedience.

But now, everything is better than being fired.

“Think of this as a punishment for you, [Name],” comes RK900’s voice. He still doesn’t release you, knowing that you hate unnecessary contact between himself and you more than anything in this world. You sense a certain kind of twisted pleasure forming in him, from the smugness in his tone to the way he looks at you. “And think of this as a lesson too, on why you should think before you act,” he adds.

If you have a clearance of mind and of a stronger character, you would’ve argued back and taken control of the situation. Especially since you are his superior in both name and title. And under normal circumstances, you will absolutely rebel against him.

He’s supposed to be underneath you, not the other way around.

Sucking in a deep breath, you say, “Okay, I’ll work harder and accept your input.”

It’s hard to keep sarcasm away usually, but this time you’re serious.

A part of you still doesn’t feel right. It feels like you’re closer to corruption - the opposite of what you want to be. Your cheeks are heating up and there’s a tremble to your limbs. The ringing in your ears is still present.

“Very good, I know we can somehow come to a mutual agreement one day.” RK900 finally lets you go before passing a thumb across your cheek. You flinch and move away as far as you can. He knows you hate the agreement as much as he enjoys it.

When you see him turn his back on you in the distance, you open your hand. The bullet is deformed. There’s a chance that no one will even know this bullet is shot by a different gun. You still have your gun with you.

RK900 could’ve easily mentioned this and gave you peace of mind.

And he must’ve transferred the memory cache into himself before wiping it away from the android.

You’ve always thought he’s trying to work his way above you.

Now you think he succeeded

“Detroit’s first android ambassador.” Fowler’s words are heavy and thick as he paces around his office. You and RK900 both watch in silence, standing side-by-side in front. The screen behind him flashes the news of what happened two days before. Every once in a while you see the frozen features of the android you shot, looking back at you. There’s no life in those empty-looking eyes.

Nothing that gives a hint of it being once alive.

Immediately, you look away.

In one corner, you notice a small video screen with the leftover remnants of Markus’s rebellion speaking at a podium. It cuts off to Fowler speaking at a press conference, but the words are muted.

You fucked up, you fucked up so bad and they don’t even know the other half of it.

“Do you know the name of this android you’re saving, [Last]?” Fowler asks, nodding towards the screen where the android’s face appears. You want to look away, but you know it’ll only force you to dig a deeper grave. Fowler isn’t stupid; he knows all the tics in you from the moment you joined. There’s a reason why he’s here in this position. But Fowler doesn’t wait for an answer, because he says, “RK900, tell [Name] the name of the hostage that was supposed to be saved.”

“Victor, sir,” RK900 says without hesitation. He doesn’t look at Fowler, instead, he keeps his gaze to the floor with an emotionless look on his face. He seems so passive and subservient; you couldn’t even hear the coldness in his voice. You’re not sure whether you like him like this or if you’re envious of Fowler because of RK900’s difference in demeanor.

“Victor—” Fowler sits down on his office chair and brings his fingers together, his elbows resting on the desk— “Android-kind’s hope to rectify a long, long period of scorn and hate from the society that built them.”

He sighs, huffing out a breath. “At least there are still other ambassadors willing to meet us.”

You look up from your gaze on the floor, noticing the way Fowler’s shoulders sag as he picks up a picture frame. There’s a brief flash of tenderness in his eyes before he sets down the frame and looks back at you.

“I’ve asked Hank to make sure the other android ambassadors are all safe - put them in witness protection if need be.”

“That’s a very good plan, sir,” RK900 replies.

Fowler is still looking pointedly at you, his face unwavering in the seriousness of the situation. You know your face is cracked, splitting between guilt and remorse. To the unknowledgeable outsider, they would think it’s from the failed hostage extraction.

Silence slowly brews and Fowler is awaiting a response from you. RK900’s knuckles brush against yours in an effort to make you talk without verbalizing his intentions.

You know you need to speak - you want to speak - but all the words catch in your throat. Even your mind is in chaos; it wants to justify what you did while putting in caution to not let slip of what really happened; it wants to come up with ways to make some kind of amendment, some kind of solution to all this.

But, none of this can rewind time and bring Victor back.

“Why did you allow the kidnapper to shoot the hostage?”

You tense, suddenly hearing the gunshot ring inside your ear again and the painful feeling of your knees hitting the ground. But amidst the chaos, RK900’s footsteps going towards the pile of bodies echoes with clarity. You still remember all the words he said, the promise he made to you, and the promise you made to him. And then, when you finally find yourself coming up with an explanation, you realize you couldn’t.

Years before you promised yourself not to fall into the depths of corruption - as both a civilian and as police.

But, oh, how the tables turned.

“I-I won’t lie, we did fail, and—” you pause just as you feel RK900’s hand bump into the back of yours. It’s a deliberate act; it’s him warning you not to tell. And you look at him - at his face - and see the faint furrow of his dark brows and the set of his jaw. He doesn’t look back, but you can already feel his voice playing against your mind.

Keep quiet.

RK900’s hands are now folded behind his back as he takes one step forward. “We tried initiating contact with the kidnapper as diplomatically as possible, but when he saw us, he struck. I believe he meant to kill the hostage anyway; it was merely a game for him.” He spoke with such calmness that Fowler must believe it.

And Fowler does - you watch him shake his head, his eyes looking to a spot beside your leg. “So it seems as if he’s playing with you - only to end up killing Victor and then himself.” He inhales sharply, before breathing out as he gazes back at you. “And I suppose you were the one who shot the kidnapper?”

“Yessir,” you say, words slurring a little - a lack of eloquence and professionalism as RK900 would put it. You briefly look away, fingers picking at the fabric of your dress shirt.

“Captain, [Name]’s safety was also important - especially when they’re still new to all of this.”

The words sting more than they should. Most because you know in some way RK900 is hiding his own opinion of you underneath a fake tone of sympathy and concern for you. In the end, he’s still the dominant voice and the dominant mind.

You can tell Fowler right now about the degree to which RK900 made you obey him and work until he is satisfied. You once thought about lying to Fowler that you suspect RK900’s a deviant - despite being assured he cannot deviate. But you’re neck-deep in a lie right now and you don’t suppose RK900 will let you off this easily.

And Fowler may not trust androids completely yet but he seems to have full faith in RK900’s responsibilities to assist you as both partner and mentor. Regardless of how many boundaries crossed, Fowler will not be able to regulate that because RK900 isn’t human.

“For now I can look past your rookie mistake, but if the higher-ups question it, I’ll be forced to bring you back into this office for a thorough investigation. Mark my words, [Name], count your blessings now because I damn hope nothing comes out of it.”

This is the kindest Fowler has ever said to you in your work environment.

“Thank you for your words, Captain,” you say, straightening your back.

He nods his head, saying, “I expect a report from you by the end of your shift tonight, [Name].” He then reaches for something, a picture frame, before pausing. “You know, I sense a change in you. You’re not like who you were when you were younger.”

You understand Fowler is expecting an answer from you, but you feel trapped by what he said. A part of you feels confused, wanting him to explain.

You then take a look at RK900, briefly wondering if he’ll say something. He’s looking at you instead, icy eyes watching you back, that telltale sign of condescension glimmering in his gaze. You immediately look back, staring at the group of picture frames on Fowler’s desk.

“Yes, I understand,” is your only response, but you know it’s not the answer you nor Fowler wanted.

You thank Fowler again and leave his office, the burdening feeling of something amiss follows you.

“I work better without someone hovering over me.”

You don’t feel the movement behind you or the heavyweight of RK900’s gaze sliding away. The intensity of his presence continues focusing on you, eventually forcing you to stop typing and push your chair away from your desk.

“I believe right now would be a perfect time for you to work,” comes his smooth response. He’s standing beside you, stiff and straight. He’s a thoughtless being who’s realistically programmed to act and do a certain way. But now he looks as if he’s hiding away his thoughts as you look at him. You try not to glare at RK900; it’s unprofessional. But your annoyance isn’t well-hidden either as you return your focus back onto the screen.

The DPD is empty except for you, Fowler, and RK900. Everyone else has their usual schedule of nine-to-five. It’s been such a common occurrence for you personally to be here earlier that you’re now used to it.

“And within ten minutes the others will arrive,” you say, picking up a pen, “You can’t expect me to finish this report by then, won’t you?” Your attempt to sound less biting fails; if it is any other person speaking you would’ve been kinder.

At least, you want to believe it so.

“Do you even know how to write a status report?” His words are sharp and blunt as ever. Much to your abject horror, he’s reading the document. He doesn’t need to physically control it to do so; he can hack. You watch him narrow his gaze, eyes scrutinizing every word you typed.

Silence folds over you as you pick at your thumb, now childishly put into a corner and unable to speak. You know you hold yourself accountable for your lack of attention to the finer aspects of reporting, but as RK900 begins deleting and re-editing your current progress, you know he’s trying to get underneath your skin.

“Use what I wrote as a guide,” he finally says, stepping back for you to read, “I assume the police academy never taught you how to write.” There’s a teasing lilt in the last of his words, but it means so much more than that to you.

Leaning in, you begin to type, using what he wrote as guidance, just as he directed. You’ve written reports before, for your high school classes and some of college. And it’s not that which is hard; it’s him, all him.

“I understand you loathe my being here, but we agreed to it, [Name].”

You stop typing once more, feeling the familiar ring pulsing in your ear. “I don’t need to be reminded.”

He never said you have to be formal to him. And in some way, you still want to show him his true place.

RK900 raises his chin, his arms clasped behind him. He’s really looking down on you in the most literal sense. “I’m also doing what I’m programmed to do.” RK900’s tone is surprisingly soft this time as if his response is intimately between you and him. “And if you can’t write something simple as a report, then I would suggest you take remedial classes somewhere so you can.”

“I thought you’re going to assist me, RK900.”

“With police work, not writing,” comes his terse response.

“No more rebellion, no more excuses- you’ll learn from me and build your profession with my assistance.”

He takes his duty of being your partner and guide to a much higher level than you had anticipated. And you fully understand that RK900 was built like this.

Except—

The need to hide and destroy evidence wasn’t - no, shouldn’t be - programmed into him.

Many times you’re not even sure you know what RK900 is. Time and time again something tells you he’s a deviant, but the high collar of his uniform and the promise by Cyberlife attests to something else entirely. And his strict adherence to serving humans far exceeded his capabilities of free-thinking.

Just the simple thought of his role in that makes you shiver.

But as you start typing again, you feel the tip of RK900’s fingers settle on the back of your hand and you turn your face towards him, silently asking for a reason.

“Except for that little bit of rebellion back there, you’re doing wonderful,” he tells you, voice soft. The smugness returns as a vague smirk plays on his lips. You furrow your brows and ignore him, steadily keeping your eyes on the monitor as your fingers resume the typing.

“Would you like me to tell the rest not to bother you?”

Before you can respond, you hear footsteps coming into the precinct.

Swiveling your chair around, you see Gavin first, his hands slipped inside his jeans, followed by Chris in his uniform, and Hank walking behind. And Connor, much to your disappointment, must have finally made his decision to leave the DPD.

“Why you gotta upstage us again, Rookie?” Gavin says, holding his hands out.

You are then greeted by Chris and Hank as they take their seats. Except for Gavin, who is still waiting for you to respond. A side of you is relieved he’s here; as annoying as he is, he brightens the place. But, on the other hand, RK900’s still here too.

And before you can react, RK900 is standing firm beside you. A look of displeasure is on his face, lips thin and eyes pointedly looking at Gavin. “Detective Reed, my partner has a name you should use.”

You reach for the cuff of RK900’s sleeve and grip it, pulling it against his wrist. “Don’t meddle, please.”

Despite your attempt to keep your words between you and him, Gavin hears and reacts with a smirk.

“Yeah, ‘don’t meddle’ you stone-faced robot,” he says, sneering. The look of ill-disguised contempt washes over his face as he crosses his arm. “This conversation is between me and Rookie, yeah?” His last words are directed at you, brown eyes flickering over to you, silently asking for input.

“It’s—” you look back up to RK900, figuring that in the end, it’s better to placate him than Gavin— “I shouldn’t talk while at work.” Your words suddenly feel foreign and you want to sink into your chair.

Meanwhile, Gavin stares at you, one eyebrow raising as he places his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Huh, you sound odd today.” He then waves his hand out and scratches the back of his neck. “Well, whatever, you do what you gotta, I guess.”

You and RK900 both watch as Gavin takes his seat near the entrance.

Then, RK900 moves until he’s blocking Gavin’s entire desk and figure, a motion that doesn’t go unnoticed by your eyes.

“Unrefined wretch - his immaturity will cost him his reputation as the face of Detroit.”

“You have no business judging him,” is your response. You lean back into your chair and cross your legs, partially relieved that the tension has subsided for now between Gavin and RK900. Yet still, another remains, hovering in-between RK900 and you now. Your lips press together, heel rubbing against the tile floors, attempting to strike down the budding irritation in you.

“RK900—” you turn your chair until you can fully face him— “Why do you hate everyone so much? You respect Captain Fowler but only because of his status, right?”

Strategically, it’s uncouth of you to ask such a question, especially during work-hours. You aren’t privy to the notion that anyone can hear you discuss this, or that RK900 himself might be displeased with the question. And true to your thought, he is, as his mouth curls into a frown.

“They are all nobodies to me,” he says, words cool and even. But his eyes are an unbridled storm of hard edges. He lowers himself, bending at one knee as he looks you straight in your eyes. “You may have a good standing with them, but not me - I’m only programmed to work with them.” He presses three fingers on your knee and stands up.

“Do with it as you will, [Name], but I am your partner.”

You blink, but silently you acknowledge his response.

RK900 is right, however. He cannot develop relations with others aside from a strict work code. And there is a contrasting clash between him and people like Gavin, whose casual and carefree manner doesn’t adhere to the serious business professionalism of Rk900. Thus, easy enmity flourishes and that in itself surrounds every other individual RK900 meets.

Hank and Chris now only ever talk to you outside of work.

You feel just a bit more out of touch with everyone, but it’s not your place to argue when you should be putting those extra time to do your duties.

RK900 left for maintenance after you finished your report.

With his absence comes a peace that feels surreal, almost fake. His access to your phone and personal computer means he can send you case files and even message you if he finds it necessary. But knowing he’s going for maintenance means he won’t be able to do any of that for a few hours.

And hopefully, nothing changes during that time.

The last thing you need is someone finding the stored memory cache of that night.

“Don’t think about it,” you tell yourself as you slip on your messenger bag.

Before you can leave, Chris stops you. “Hey [Name].”

He looks around, then says, “I was going to tell you this, but RK900 was there and I don’t want to end up like Gavin.” You see a nervous look on his face when he mentions RK900, which you wouldn’t fault him at all for.

“Don’t worry, RK900’s in CyberLife headquarter now,” you tell him, adjusting the strap of your bag.

“Oh, that’s a relief!” Chris answers, sighing. “Connor wants to meet you, Hank’s supposed to be the messenger but he got work to do. You can find Conner at the old playground - you’ll know which one.”

There’s a beat in-between, before he adds, “Best not to mention it to RK900.”

“—and I cannot believe the process of finding an apartment,” Connor says, leaning against the black railing with a smile on his face. “But it’s liberating, there’s so much detail that I can decide for myself. Hank helped too; he argued with the agent and he must’ve worked something out because the next thing I know, he’s handing me the key.”

He smiles and rubs his hands together.

“It sounds like you really liked the experience,” you tell him. You watch as his shoulders shake, but he’s not laughing. Smile pulling into a frown, you touch his shoulder and say, “Are you cold?”

“Yeah, my internal system sometimes gets sensitive during cold weather - I’ve replaced it with older parts.” He doesn’t look at you, instead, he keeps his focus onto the view ahead, where the ocean stretches until it hits the coast. Dark clouds curl from the factory chimneys in the distance, reminding you of the days spent bicycling through the empty streets, wanting to go inside one of those factories where your parents worked.

And you don’t miss the way Connor’s tone changes when he utters those last words. It’s been a year since he left CyberLife and ever since then, both good and bad changes have come for him. Freedom for the exchange of degradation and a life of half-scorn and half-hope.

You gleaned some of Connor’s experience from Hank. But you never had the chance to fully understand.

A part of you doesn’t want to; comforting words isn’t something you can effortlessly gift to someone.

“You think I can make it through this year?” Connor asks, clasping his hands tightly. He’s looking down, face full of solemnity and a vague sense of defeat. He doesn’t speak much about this kind of worry to anyone, so you are left struck with the realization that he trusts you enough to say this to you.

You suddenly feel burdened and undeserving of that trust.

You shake your head, silently gazing at the space between the two chimneys in the distance. The material of your scarf’s able to hide your mouth, but it cannot hide the frown from your face. “Of course you will,” you tell him, placing your hands on the railing, “You won’t break - I promise.”

The phone in your pocket vibrates and you place a hand over the pocket and hesitates.

Connor turns to face you and tilts his head. “[Name], is something wrong?”

The voice in you wants to answer him that yes, something’s wrong. It’s RK900 calling, because it’s always him that cares too much to call you when you’re off work. No matter how much the deafening voice is telling you now to answer and yell at him, you can’t. Connor is here and this moment is for him.

“Yes, but it’s there’s always a little wrong if you’re me,” you say, chuckling.

His gaze softens and you don’t miss the way he smiles fondly at you. And despite the problems he’s facing, it’s always easy to see him do that. You’re not certain if he’s just like that or if there’s something you don’t know about it. But this is the Connor you’re most familiar with and you terribly miss having him in the DPD.

And since he’s here—

“Would you ever think of coming back to the DPD?”

Surprise appears on his face, taken aback by your abrupt question. He doesn’t respond but the LED blinks rapidly in orange. You don’t want to make it too serious of a question to worry him so you look away and pretend he said no. Connor deserves a break - a long one anyway - and it’s not like there are no androids like him out there who can fill in his space.

Once upon a time, you thought he would be a good replacement.

“If you don’t want to, I understand, but—” you stop yourself, taking in a shuddering breath as you attempt to collect your nerves. It’s unsavory - perhaps even pathetic - of you to want Connor back. But it’s the wishful knowledge that you can see his warm smile in the DPD rather than just the cold gray eyes of RK900 is a thought of comfort.

You feel uneasy and you begin to adjust the strap on your messenger bag. The weight beside you is a welcoming right now.

“No, I would like that,” Connor says, smiling. And you can see it, the flicker of hope in his honey-brown eyes. “I would love to work with Hank again, and I would love to work with you on a case together,” he adds, placing his arm behind his back. Then the grin on his face settles back as he looks to the ground.

“But—”

“But you can’t,” you finish for him, trying to sound as gentle as possible. Both you and Connor know this, that it’s an unspoken rule in DPD that Connor cannot work anymore. He’s ineffective, old, and useless according to his makers and the numerous flaws on his body has rendered him incapable to be on most cases anyway.

But there’s another truth that overshadows everything else.

“My presence isn’t particularly well-liked there.” He laughs, but it’s forced and absent of his usual light humor. You know he’s upset about this - it pains him to not be able to do something he truly loves to do.

“It’s RK900, isn’t it?”

Connor looks back up at you and he frowns. He’s still for a moment, the wind brushing through his dark brown hair. Stray strands linger across his forehead, hiding the LED behind them. “My successor will be the first to have objections. I don’t think Detective Reed would like me back either, considering our last meeting involved my fist to his face.”

“Fuck RK900,” you say, voice louder. You feel the sole of your boots digging into the thin trace of snow as you step forward. “He doesn’t own you and even I have more jurisdiction than him. Gavin’s long forgotten about that incident and I’m damn sure even he would rather it’s you in there than him.”

The fierceness in your words doesn’t betray the way your hands shake. You know it’s wrong to force Connor to come back. But your own selfishness far outcries the sensibility within you at this moment.

Connor blinks, taken aback by your sudden response. You feel the creep of warmth through your cheeks the more time passes, especially when you realize he’s assessing you. That is something Connor will never part with, that instinct-like need to observe first.

But before you can talk more, a pair of footsteps, heavy and deliberate, breaks the silence between you.

Immediately, you feel the warmth that had risen a moment before ebb back into a cold void. In the same moment you attempt to step forth, you decide to step back instead. Cold eyes stare at you, but you couldn’t find the previous energy you had to even look properly.

“RK900.” And it’s Connor who said the first word, calling to his successor in the same clinical manner Rk900 would speak in towards everyone around him. All of a sudden, the [person] who spoke with tenderness is gone, his entire facade now hardwired into that of a near-emotionless being.

And RK900, who up until now has been looking at you, turns his gaze toward him. He’s not in the Cyberlife issued white and black uniform but in a black turtleneck sweater and dark fitted jeans and polished black oxfords. Even so, the entirety of his form recalls the usual coldness of his existence.

You’re aware that the same situation as this morning will happen again. But that was different; the one in front of him had been Gavin.

This time, it’s Connor and he’s—

“A deviated failure, how quaint,” comes RK900’s venomous words, but it’s only concealing the darker intentions underneath. You’re not sure who to push back or who to tell to stand down.

But you know who is more likely to act first.

“RK900, that’s enough; we’re leaving.” In your attempt to break the dangerous tension, you wedge yourself between him and Connor, before pushing yourself against RK900. The uncomfortable closeness only makes you nervous, but the need to separate them far outweighs your own distress. “This is an order!” you add, realizing that RK900’s not moving.

Neither Connor nor RK900 has said anything about your involvement, although they may be too focused on each other to care. This is dangerous, you know, because if they clash then no one - not even a military-trained soldier - can break them apart.

The last time someone tried, it broke their arm.

And that someone was you.

You’re not certain you want to mentally live another day if something like this happens again.

Suddenly, you feel a palm on the back of your shoulder. RK900’s glancing down at you and you look up, desperately trying to plead to him to go.

Don’t make the same mistake, don’t harm him.

“Is this why [Name] wants me back? Because of you?”

You freeze, realizing this will never end unless one of them relents. You can still remember the first time, but now is not the time to relish in the past. And now that Connor has spoken, you know RK900 will make sure he gives him an answer.

Turning your gaze, you see his jaws tense and the glimmer of hunger in RK900’s eyes. A tightness forms in your chest as you change your position and attempt to pull him by his arm. It’s useless; RK900 is as much a stone as he is a war machine.

“Oh, worry not, we don’t miss you—” he breaks, eyes flitting back to you with a look of heavy disapproval on his face— “And certainly not [Name].” The last of his words are also for you, but well-hidden enough that only you know.

Connor’s hand curls into a tight fist and no doubt is he thinking of using it like he did with Gavin. You can see it in the tenseness of his jaws, the wrinkle of flesh between his brows, and the narrowing of his eyes. The potent hostility between them only builds and builds despite the time in-between their previous meeting.

And RK900 sees this, it makes him sneer in a show of dominance.

“Are you really sure you want to fight me here? In a discarded playground?” The mocking tone in his voice is strong enough that you know it’s meant to enrage Connor.

It’s working too. The red on Connor’s LED is flashing dangerously underneath the strands of hair covering it.

As much as you want to see RK900 defeated, you know you cannot let Connor pull the punch first.

“We’re leaving now, RK900, or I promise you I’ll tell Fowler about this,” you whisper, uncaring now of what happens in the future between you and him.

“And what then? Don’t make me remind you of your position right now,” is his response.

You see Connor looking at you, concern written across his face. “What does he mean by that?”

For a moment, all eyes are on you as you attempt to come up with an answer. Once again you feel like a prey underneath the oppressive eyes of RK900. Still, you stand your ground and keep your hands on his arms. “Nothing, there’s nothing really.” A fake calmness is in your voice, one that you know Connor must’ve seen through. You tug once more at RK900’s arm, uncaring whether or not it’s too harsh of a gesture.

“[Name]—” But before he can finish his sentence, RK900 has turned, finally allowing you to pull him away. “[Name] wait!” You hear Connor walking forward, attempting to stop you. But you throw him a look, a silent plea for him to not come.

Not long after, the playground’s out of your line of sight.

You’re going home, the waning frustration having worn away any semblance of peace in you. But the budding anger feels like fangs gnawing at the back of your mind. You don’t think you’ll get any sleep tonight and be able to wake up tomorrow either.

But you also cannot go home, because RK900 is following you even though you’ve walked and walked. The feeling of his cold stare is like a knife stabbing at your back. So you stop, having walked into an alleyway that’s a detour to your apartment, and you turn to face him.

He also stops, standing just a few feet away, eyes settling upon your own. The longer the seconds tick by, the more irate you become and the more nervous you feel. So many times you feel like you’ve been cornered by him. Now that you’re physically cornered, the hair on the back of your neck is slowly standing stiff and a sharp coldness runs down your back.

“I’m off work.” The calmness in your tone surprises you, but you know that calmness will quickly subside the moment something snaps. The glance you give him is only a warning; hell, it’s a learned reaction from him. But, you’re not finished and the flame within you is blazing stronger and stronger still.“And don’t you think it’s unprofessional of you to try to antagonize an ex-coworker?”

“I never regretted my decision,” RK900 says, clasping his arms together behind his back.

“And the first time it happened?”

“That was a mistake.”

You almost laugh, knowing all too well the pain that coursed through your arm when it got broken. Everything was so muddled back then, your memory, that is. So you’re not sure who was the one that broke your arm. You want to blame RK900, but you don’t want to bend that low.

“We all make mistakes, [Name],” RK900 says, sharp gaze stubbornly holding yours, neve letting you go.

We all make mistakes.

Right.

“It’s a bit late now, isn’t it?” you say, words harsh but, in your mind, appropriate. And it’s not like it has a singular meaning. Your own bitterness towards yourself is still there, etched into the very words. Whether or not RK900 notices this is his problem.

And you’ve run out of patience to wait for him to respond.

You turn and continue making your way out of the alley and into the street, where fluorescent lights decorate each shop. There are only a few civilians out, the distinction between whether or not any of them is an android or not now blurred by their lack of uniforms and LEDs.

This time, you remain en route to your apartment, wanting nothing but the comfort of your bed. And when the familiar off-white color of the building appears in your line of vision, you walk faster.

But before you can fish out your keys and unlock the double doors, a hand on your shoulder stops you.

“Why are you following me?” It’s easy now for you to tell apart his hand from others - there’s always a strength to it. You also don’t miss the intrusive warmth behind your back.

This time, you turn out of your own will. The sun hasn’t set yet and you can see RK900 staring back at you, face blank - almost serene.

“I have a question for you, and I hope you may answer it,” he says, voice low.

“A question for me,” you say, sounding out each word slowly. Again, the nagging feeling of wanting to laugh, to scream at him, gnaws at the edge of your brain. You just want to go home and he’s not even giving you that luxury.

RK900 seems to sense it too because for a moment you notice the way he frowns before he reigns his expression back. “If you had answered my call, I wouldn’t have to chase you down like this.”

“Thought you were in maintenance.”

“I can still access the phone application installed in me - you should already know that.”

You press a hand to your face and slide it down hard. You do, you do know he can call you whenever he pleases. It’s not like that was the first time he attempted to do so.

But sometimes it’s easier to lie.

“Okay,” you say, fully giving up now. “I’m all ears.”

You think he’s going to talk about Connor, again. But, no, he doesn’t because you notice there’s no trace of displeasure on his face, yet. Instead, he says, “No matter what, I want to remind you all that I did and am doing is for you, [Name].” He closes in, his body now just inches before you. Thankfully no one’s walking the street right now except for a few passing cars.

Your hands are up, ready to push him away, but you stop, letting them linger in the air. “You could change, you know. Be nicer, be better.” It’s hesitant, the way you say those words, and perhaps naive in the way you told it.

“And why should I?” he asks, leaning closer. “Would kindness protect you from the world? Wasn’t it your own kindness that left you injured?” He’s glaring down at you, attempting to trap you in a corner again. You cannot take a step back, the door is right behind you.

“I know you wanted Connor to replace me, I’ve known since you first met him,” he adds, sensing that you wouldn’t be responding any time sooner.

He’s right. And although you question how he knew, you realize it’s too late to find out. But do you even care if he knows? It may be better for him to know he’s not all that superior if he’s second at best.

“That doesn’t mean I won’t honor our agreement,” is your response. “And I only wanted Connor back in the DPD and not as my partner.” You take in a deep breath, mind now burning with the need to stray away from this, all of this.

Your attempt to sound confident in front of his presence only makes you seem like a trapped animal even more. Yet still, you place your hands on his chest, holding him at a distance. RK900 reacts with a chuckle, much to your relief, as he stays.

“Even if the broken one comes back, he will never make you a better version of yourself. Remember [Name], your dream? You told me about it when we first met; you said you wanted to become a police lieutenant at least. You want to earn it through hard and honest work. You have a powerful dream, [Name], and I fully intend to see it happen.”

The conviction in his words shatters you. You know RK900 is incapable of lying, maybe hide facts and manipulate it, but never outright lie. At least, not to you. And you do remember what you told him before. That wide-eyed new member of the DPD, staring at their future android partner and telling it their wish. That was all you.

But to know he knows of your dream baffles you. He’s efficient, merciless, and stoic - a well-built machine. And to think he remembers something as insignificant as your dream makes you want to believe he’s something more.

RK900’s hand suddenly drapes over your own, causing your shoulder to stiffen.

“Kindness is a choice [Name]. ”

He’s slowly pushing your arms down.

RK900 then steps back, his focus still lingering on you. “I see it, from time-to-time, but it should be directed elsewhere. If you can use something more efficient, I believe you’ll make it.”

And he puts his hand up and waves briefly at you. Wordlessly, you wave back.

“And [Name]–” he stops himself, eyes searching for something on you— “I forgot to mention this, but if you don’t need me anymore, I will be forced to deactivate and taken apart. They will see into my memory cache if it happens; remember that.”

RK900 doesn’t wait for your response.

Seconds pass and you feel yourself slumping against the door.

This is all a ploy, one could even admit to saying it was a selfish act of benevolence.

But it’s still not right. You want to believe RK900 is still an android, too crude and unrefined to be anything more than what he already is.

He’s only doing this because that’s what he’s programmed to believe in.

Unconsciously, your fingers touched the back of your hand.

You can feel the phantom warmth of his hand, urging you to comply.

Your phone vibrates with an incoming call. It’s Saturday and you’re off, but the chance to be called on-duty is enough for you to rouse yourself. Sluggishly, you lean over and grab your phone. Several empty cups of ramen fall down before you find it.

Looking at the screen, you notice that it’s not a number in your contacts.

Surely it belongs to a telemarketer.

But right after you slide it close, the same number calls you again.

This time, you answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hey, [Name].”

You feel your heart drop. “Markus?”

note: YIKES i hope you guys like this. i’ve never experimented with long chaptered fics before and as a writer in general i’ve been rusty. i don’t fully intend to make this story any longer than 2-part unless i get some neat ideas going. plus, if you haven’t known, i suck at updating multi-chapters ^^;

#rk900 x reader #connor rk900 x reader #rk900 #detroit become human #dbh rk900 #rk900 connor

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