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#at least let it be a LITTLE predictable y'know?
troglobite · 8 months
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i love* when chronic pain flares up SUPER fucking bad for no discernible reason, completely canceling all plans and hopes i had for the day
*fucking loathe w my entire existence
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diagonal-queen · 1 year
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hunting dogs with an energetic s/o pleaaaase😭
oooooooooooo omg i love this one <33
Hunting Dogs with an energetic S/O
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♡ pairing: Fukuchi Ouchi, Jouno Saigiku, Tecchou Suehiro, Teruko Okura (platonic), Tachihara Michizou x gn!Reader
♡ synopsis: How do the Hunting Dogs react when they have an energetic S/O?
♡ cw: Mention of alcohol in Fukuchi's part.
note: Tbh at first I didn't wanna write for Fukuchi because he and I have a complicated personal history (I don't like him that much) but like it was actually really easy and fun! That was a nice surprise hehe <3 Apologies for errors and I hope you enjoy x
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Fukuchi:
He thinks you're so cute!
You're like his little cheerleader (you're shorter than him most likely) and he enjoys having you around to keep him on his toes (he can't use his age to get out of anything when it comes to you)
You'd be constantly challenging him to fights and stuff and trying to rile him up (he thinks it's endearing though and might entertain you for a little bit, because he can. Just playfights and cute stuff like that lol)
To be honest he's an enabler and would probably encourage you to cause trouble somehow. I mean it's not like anyone can tell you off (unless they wanna face off against FUKUCHI??) (it's entirely possible that on some technicality, you are an enemy of state)
You and Teruko are best friends (obviously). As for the rest of the group...nah they actually kinda like you too. You keep their boss happy so like it's a win-win really
If you're someone who drinks...oh man you guys. Oh man you two are going to cause a lot of trouble
Fukuchi might be kinda crass but let's be real he's probably super old school romantic and he'd like to dance with you (and doing so would also wear you out so he can like nap lmao)
He just loves to entertain you because he simply can't get enough of that joyful look in your eyes.
Jouno:
He also thinks it's cute but he doesn't match your energy at all. Jouno appears very calm and cold so you contrast each other a lot
Jouno has to be there to reel you in when you get too silly T-T he's grown quite good at it. He would give you a limit on coffee/energy drinks (if you drink those)
He always acts all exasperated and keeps telling you to calm down and all that, but he secretly loves your personality and doesn't want you to change at all sksjksksjs
He thinks it's actually quite romantic how you balance each other out that way, even if it can cause clashes or disagreements sometimes between you two
Jouno spends most of his time around rather serious people (being a Hunting Dog and all) so being in the presence of someone lighthearted and more bouncy is rather refreshing.
It's almost kinda reassuring for him that you're so energetic because he can hear you well, and so it's really easy for him to tell how you're doing in case he needs to be there for you or something when you're feeling blue y'know?
No because all the other Hunting Dogs are always looking at you two like 'how...how did this possibly happen' (they love you but they did not expect Jouno to date someone like you lmao)
He loves the way you sound, but just try not to be too loud lol
Tecchou:
This guy. He doesn't know what's happening most of the time with you T-T he can't ever predict you
Outside of work, when you guys go out on dates and stuff, you're always dragging him around and he kinda just goes with it. He likes your spontaneity and how you've always got little surprises for him
You two like going on physical-based(?) dates together (for some reason the only thing in my mind is those indoor trampoline parks?), you like them because they accommodate to your energy level and he likes them because exercise or something. lol
Is surprisingly good at keeping up with you! Or so it seems, at least. He probably isn't that good but he tries his best for you <3
Tecchou loves his down time, so you two tend to make deals along the lines of 'we'll spend our time now doing [energy-exerting activity] and then we can cuddle later' or something because you guys compromise and are healthy like that 😌
He really really likes you as you are but he's not good at showing it, so though he may seem tired of you sometimes he really isn't
There are times where he'll step up and be the responsible one of the two of you, but that's only if he has to be (he doesn't want to stop you because he thinks you're adorable as you are)
If you're also clingy, he especially loves that about you because Tecchou is like glued to you 24/7 (outside of work lol)
Teruko (platonic):
You're like two peas in a pod because you match one another's energy so well
You guys are just constantly bothering the rest of the Hunting Dogs and they're tired. They can't really get mad at you though, because usually Teruko is the instigator, and also if they said anything to you she'd kick them
Though, you're more of a fun energetic and she's more of an 'I'm going to cause as much mayhem as possible' energetic so you have to be the voice of reason a lot of the time
That being said you two do like pranking people and stuff (not just when she's off work- Teruko isn't above ruining the days of the other Hunting Dogs), sometimes using her ability to do it
When Teruko's feeling down or about to throw a tantrum, you're always there to lift her spirits and vice versa (Jouno and Tachihara are very grateful for this (they're conflicted about their feelings towards you lmaooooo))
You're probably giving her a lot of piggy back rides
You can read each other like open books and that makes it really easy to talk about your issues and feelings free of judgement (at least really harsh judgement)
She takes surprisingly good care of you when you're feeling sick or something, because she needs her partner in crime back ASAP! (and she loves you a lot <3)
Tachihara:
He'd be chill with any personality his partner might have so he's totally fine with you being energetic. He's very adaptable!
That being said he is kinda tired sometimes (man is a mafioso and a soldier) so he usually sorta just lets you run wild on your own (and, if you want to, mess with his colleagues) and just doesn't do anything about it lol
That isn't to say that he's actively encouraging you to be chaotic- he's still at least a little sensible
Tachihara is very appreciative of the fact that you're always there to cheer him up and keep him going. Your energy is infectious and he benefits from that fact quite a lot
For your birthday or something else special he'd take you to a concert (where you can scream and jump around all you like) where your faves perform <3
You and he would pull all-nighters every now and then, and spend the whole time watching terrible movies and doing other stupid random things together
Dates with Tachihara are as frequent as he can make them with his packed schedule. He likes to spend as much time with you as he possibly can because you make him feel happy and motivated
You're very well liked by both the Hunting Dogs and the other Port Mafia members (you're probably close with Gin also) and that honestly makes life a lot easier for him lmao
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would love to go on a måneskin tour with tachihara and scream along to read your diary with him ngl
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shadowtriovibes · 11 months
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where there's smoke, there's firewhiskey
Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC x Garreth Weasley
Word Count: 2.1k
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: aged-up characters, established relationship seb x mc, underage drinking (by today's standards), recreational drug use, shotgunning, references to threesomes
Summary: request: "imagine a modern au, where parties are more like our idea of them and not, y'know, victorian england. And getting high, drunk, or both, at a party and running into literally any one of the boys and just acting like horny college kids. Seb fits this idea best in my head but kinda sorta lowkey I could see Garreth being a stoner LMAO." (predictably, i decided that three heads are better than two)
"What are we doing?" you whisper. "Having fun," Sebastian answers cheekily. "It's a party, we're allowed to have a little fun." "Doesn't have to be serious," Garreth chimes in, still pressing wet kisses to your neck. "In fact, it's usually better if it's not."
On nights like tonight, you’re quite proud to be a Hufflepuff.
You may have only been at Hogwarts for less than two years, but it didn’t take long to learn that all too often, your house is the least loved. Ravenclaws have their intelligence, Gryffindors their bravery, and even Slytherins their cunning, but what have you Hufflepuffs got?
Well, tonight what you’ve got is the honor of hosting the best party you’ve ever been to.
As soon as dinner had ended, your cozy, comforting common room had been completely transformed into a raucous den of teenage misbehavior from one last blowout party before your N.E.W.T.s exams start next week. For hours your classmates have taken turns sneaking sixth- and seventh-years from other houses in small groups down past the kitchens and through Hufflepuff’s massive barrel entrance until it felt like just about all your classmates were here.
There’s Muggle music blaring on someone’s contraband stereo across the room and some N.E.W.T.s-level Potions students are delightedly combining wizarding spirits with Muggle mixers and passing them out to members of a very thirsty crowd — in the pursuit of knowledge, of course.
Predictably, you’re already in Sebastian’s lap. All night he’s been unabashedly charming you into taking sips of Firewhiskey from his own bottle, wary of whatever has been bubbling away in Sacharissa’s cauldron.
Your boyfriend has turned you into a big fan of Firewhiskey. Every time you take a sip of the cinnamon-spiced spirit, you feel its warmth spread from the very top of your head down to the tips of your toes and everywhere in between. It’s sweet, slightly spicy and way too easy to drink whenever Sebastian offers you the bottle by its neck.
Now you’re tipsy and warm and perfectly content to sit with him in an armchair by a tucked-away fireplace on the far end of the room.
Plus, he looks so bloody fit in the varsity Quidditch jacket that Imelda had gifted members of the team at the end of the season that you can barely stand to take your hands off his broad chest.
Between your murmured conversations and occasional aimless kisses, Sebastian teasingly announces, “Looks like your friend’s just arrived.”
“Who, Natty?” you ask hopefully.
“Garreth,” he says instead, and you’re immediately suspicious of the way he’s smirking at you.
“What’s that look for?” you ask him.
He pointedly ignores your question and instead waves Garreth over. Across the room, he’s just climbed into the common room with a group of other Gryffindors, looking artfully disheveled as always.
He perks up when he notices you and quickly weaves his way over to the sitting area you and Sebastian had claimed. Your boyfriend disappointedly lets you climb off his lap so you can greet Garreth and give him a hug.
“Want to sit with us?” you offer. “Sebastian’s got some whiskey if you’d like some.”
“I’m alright, thanks,” he says kindly, taking a seat on the couch across from Sebastian. “But I’ll join you anyway.”
You wouldn’t dream of telling Sebastian, but over the years you’ve always maintained a slight crush on Garreth. You love Seb, you’re mad about him and you hope you’ll be together well after your tenure at Hogwarts ends, but still… That harmless crush persists, and it makes your heart race a little whenever Garreth smiles at you across his potions station or compliments your spellwork in Charms.
It doesn’t help that he’s generally a massive flirt.
“Are you sure you don’t want a drink?” you offer after chatting with him for a while. “Everyone’s been getting boozed-up for hours.”
“I’m not much of a drinker,” Garreth admits. “But I’ve got my own stuff.”
Reaching into the pockets of his trousers, Garreth pulls out a small wooden box and flips open the lid. From inside he pulls out a small, thin strip of parchment and a small bag of what looks to be ground-up leaves.
“What have you got?” you ask curiously.
“Mallowsweet,” he replies, and sure enough, when he opens up the bag and tips some of its contents into his hand, you catch the magical herb’s familiar honey-like scent.
“Why?” you ask, and Garreth raises an eyebrow at you.
“You can smoke it,” Garreth explains as if it’s obvious. “It’ll loosen up your inhibitions just like alcohol. Have you never had Mallowsweet like this before?”
“No,” you admit. “I’ve really only used it for completing Merlin Trials, and Professor Garlick is surprisingly strict about how much she lets me grow.”
“It’s not her fault, the Ministry’s been trying to make it a controlled substance for years now,” Garreth explains. “She can’t let students have too much, but if you buy some off Timothy down at the Magic Neep, he’ll give you as much as you want.”
“And then you just dry it out to smoke it?” you ask, peering at the small, dried-out pieces of leaves in the palm of his hand.
“Yeah, that’s easy enough to do myself,” Garreth laughs. “All you need is a quick-drying charm and then it’s ready to smoke.”
You watch as he takes the small piece of parchment and tips the dried Mallowsweet onto it, and then he places the paper on the low table in front of you and carefully rolls it into a thin, cigarette-shaped joint. Finally, he seals it by licking along the exposed edge and pressing it closed.
“Got a light for me?” he jokes, placing one end in his mouth.
You roll your eyes fondly and gently tap the tip of your wand against the end of the joint. With a quick spark, a small flame jumps to life and the joint lets out a thin tendril of smoke.
Garreth takes a long drag and as he exhales, he murmurs, “Thanks, love.”
The pet name makes you blush, and you hope it’s not visible in the low lighting of the party.
“You want to try some?” he offers. “I think you’d like it.”
“What’s it feel like?” you ask curiously.
Garreth pauses for a beat to consider before he tells you, “For me, it’s really calming. It kind of… turns my senses down, if that makes sense. Everything gets quieter, and less hurried.”
“That sounds really nice,” you say softly. “But I haven’t ever smoked anything before.”
You watch Garreth’s gaze drift down to your mouth, lingering a little longer than he’d usually be able to get away with. “Maybe I can help you.”
“You should shotgun her,” Sebastian suggests, and you startle, guiltily remembering that he’s still seated a few feet away in that armchair, watching the two of you with a keen look on his face.
“Yeah?” Garreth asks. “That’s alright?”
“It’s a party,” Sebastian says with a shrug. “I’m alright with it if she is.”
“What’s that mean, ‘shotgun?’” you ask skeptically. “Like how Everett chugs Butterbeers from the side of the can?”
“Not that kind,” Garreth laughs. “It’s more like… I’ll take a hit, and then when I breathe out, you’ll breathe in.”
You frown, confused. Garreth just smirks and offers, “It’s really easier to just do it than explain.”
“Sure, yeah,” you agree. “Go on then.”
Garreth lifts the joint to his lips again and takes another slow drag, holding his breath at the top while he sets the lit joint down in an ashtray on the table. Then he gently grips your chin with one hand and pulls you in like he’s going to kiss you, but before he does, he taps on your bottom lip with one long finger so you’ll open your mouth.
His lips just barely brush against yours while he carefully exhales smoke into your mouth, and thankfully your soft gasp breaks your trance and forces you to inhale that same smoke. It tastes slightly sweet on your tongue, as the name suggests, but pleasantly herbal as well.
“Hold onto it for a moment,” Garreth murmurs, his lips still touching yours. “Then breathe out.”
You count to five in your head and exhale. The smoke dissipates in front of you, and as soon as it clears, you’re staring right into Garreth’s warm brown eyes.
“Sebastian,” he says, his gaze still fixed on you. “You’re not going to curse me for this, are you?”
“Go on, Weasley,” Sebastian drawls. “She wants you to.”
You want to offer an excuse, an apology, anything in response to Sebastian’s obviously correct assumption. Instead, you just lean into Garreth a bit closer and suddenly he’s kissing you, one hand still cradling your jaw.
He’s an excellent kisser, you think. You’ve only got Sebastian to compare him to, and he’s brilliant at it by your standards, but kissing someone new is so thrilling. Especially when it’s Garreth, who’s not only charismatic and glaringly fit but always so sweet and gentle with you.
Your eyes drift shut as Garreth kisses you deeper. He presses his tongue alongside yours and you taste more Mallowsweet, with a little bit of pumpkin juice.
While you can’t see him, you hear Sebastian stand up from the armchair and take a seat next to you on the couch, his larger form blocking you in and shielding you and Garreth from anyone who might glance your way from the common room.
He rests a hand dangerously high up on your thigh and leans in close to your ear to murmur, “You’re an awful liar when you have a crush, d’you know that?”
You whimper softly and Garreth swallows the sound.
“Don’t worry yourself, love,” Sebastian laughs quietly. “I’m better at sharing than you give me credit for.”
Garreth starts to kiss his way down your chin to your jaw and you tip your head back a little. Sebastian’s right there to drag his hand through your hair to coax you into leaning back even more. You moan softly when you feel the redhead suck a small bruise into your skin.
“What are we doing?” you whisper.
“Having fun,” Sebastian answers cheekily. “It’s a party, we’re allowed to have a little fun.”
“Doesn’t have to be serious,” Garreth chimes in, still pressing wet kisses to your neck. “In fact, it’s usually better if it’s not.”
You scoff and tell him, “That is officially the most Garreth thing I’ve heard you say all evening.”
While you and Sebastian are hopeless fools for each other and have been for ages, Garreth’s reputation is that of a perennial bachelor. He goes on lovely dates, and if the rumor mill is to be believed, he’s an excellent shag. But he genuinely appreciates being single for now, especially so close to graduation.
“W-well, um…” you stutter. “How much fun are we talking about?”
“How much do you want?” Sebastian asks, his hand on your thigh sliding higher underneath the hem of your skirt.
“We haven’t ever – y’know,” you hiss. “With someone.”
Garreth sits back and grins cheekily at you. “I have.”
“That’s not surprising, Weasley, you’re kind of a slag,” Sebastian smirks. “Who was it then?”
“Bit personal, don’t you think, Sallow?” he responds.
“You’ve just had your tongue in my girlfriend’s mouth, I think we’re well past any sort of modesty,” Sebastian counters, and you could not possibly be any redder, you think.
Garreth leans over to the table and lifts his joint to his slightly-swollen lips to take one last long pull before answering.
“Fine, it was Adelaide and Nerida,” he admits ruefully. “Bit of a package deal, those two.”
“You’re foul,” you laugh, but then Garreth slides his hand up your other thigh and suddenly you’ve got two of the most handsome boys in school boxing you in, each with a hand up your skirt. Any thoughts you’d spared for Hogwarts gossip go straight out the window.
“We should, um… Maybe we should go somewhere more private,” you suggest, still keenly aware of the party going on just feet away.
“Everyone’s down here for the party,” Sebastian suggests. “The dorms upstairs have got to be pretty empty right now, wouldn’t you think?”
“Can confirm,” Garreth agrees.
Reluctantly, both boys let you go and you smooth your skirt back down, standing up with wobbly legs. You hadn’t realized before, but the Mallowsweet has firmly taken effect on your system.
“Feeling alright?” Sebastian asks.
“Yes, I… I feel quite good, actually,” you murmur. “Really good.”
“She’s crossed,” Garreth laughs, affection clear in his voice. “Mallowsweet and Firewhiskey, now there’s a dangerous combination.”
“I feel warm,” you tell them. “All over, just warm and relaxed and…”
When you trail off, Sebastian asks knowingly, “Has it got you feeling a bit hot under the collar, love?”
“Yes,” you whine. “Really hot.”
“Sounds like you could use our help to cool you off,” Sebastian suggests. “Shall we?”
“After you, mate,” Garreth laughs.
As Garreth trails the two of you up the stairs to your dorm, you hear Sebastian mumble, “You’re bloody well right, after me.”
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actuallyastingray · 2 months
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Rookie of the Year - Insomnia
"Just for tha' record, you're damn lucky Coach is a heavy sleepah"
Insomnia was an absolute curse. Dancing Rasta had long ago come to live with sleepless nights on the couch, usually accompanied by tea, chocolate, and late-night sports highlights. Predictably, said sleepless nights usually coincided with high stakes matches against the Super Leagues finest, y'know when being well rested was most important. How he had managed all these years surviving on four hours of sleep was still a mystery to Supa Strikas captain. Tonight however, it seems that he wasn't the only one languishing awake in the wee hours of the morning. At least he had chosen to do something calming with his night, like enjoying a cup of tea and reading about Riano's new skincare regimen.
The team's newest striker and rising star, however, was making no attempts to settle down for the night. The fact that they were both now at least a mile from the rental house in a rather rundown local football field made that clear enough. Shakes at least had made a passing effort to sneak out the front door, and probably would have gone unnoticed had no one else been awake. Whether or not he was aware that he had been stalked a full mile to the local park was no longer relevant. In fact, Rasta had been watching on the sidelines for a good ten minutes, watching goal after goal after goal, before finally speaking up. At least, he had been watching the shots. With no stadium lights or, at the very least streetlights, it was hard to tell if Shakes was actually scoring anything.
Another five or so shots later and Rasta was tempted to just walk up and snatch the bag of footballs away just to evoke a reaction. Fortunately, Shakes spared him the effort by finally voicing a reply.
"Don't really see the problem captain. Suns gonna be up in a couple hours anyway. Just a little early morning warmup before the big game, am I right, heh heh?"
A full decade of dealing with Supa Strikas on a day-to-day basis had taught Dancing Rasta some valuable life skills, such as when someone was trying and failing to use humor to disguise their emotions. Shakes, both fortunately and unfortunately, was by far the easiest to read, which was saying something given how short his time with the team had been thus far.
"Ya do realize that its winter right now Shakes? As in shorter daylight hours? Suns not comin' up for anotha' six hours at best. But that ain't the point right now. Something's troubling ya right now, isn't there?
"Troubled?" Shakes echoed with another wayward shot, "What implies that I'm troubled by anything right now? Can't a guy just head out for a little late night practice session?"
"Well let's start with da fact that it's pitch black out. Last I checked, ya need to at least see where ya shooting at ta score. Then we can get ta the fact that ya chose to sneak out without sayin' anythin' or leaving any notes." Rasta, seeing yet another ball go shooting off to the net, chose to step between the rookie and the remaining pile of balls. Befitting the darkness, and likely sleeplessness, Shakes was halfway back to the pile before he noticed his captain had changed positions. His tracksuit managed to hide most of his face, but the telltale slump in his shoulders and bowed head implied Shakes was running on adrenaline fumes. "I don't have ta be Coach to tell ya dis ain't healthy Shakes-mon. Ya need your sleep for da big game tomorrow, especially when we facin' Iron Tank of all teams. Ya know Uber will take any advantage he can against ya."
Even in the darkness, Rasta saw quite clearly when Shakes' shoulders tensed at Iron Tank's captain's name. 'Well, that's step one completed', he mused 'Now let's see where this goes from here.'
"Sleep huh? So why are you up then captain? Coach is way more likely to punish you if you aren't rested."
'Ah, deflection then. Alright Shakes, I can play that game if you want.'
"Coach ain't gonna punish me for having trouble sleeping, just the same he ain't gonna punish ya for having more nightmares about Uber."
Shakes went stiff as a board and Rasta couldn't help but mentally pat himself on the back for the successful detective work. But now was not the time for celebrating just yet. He took the opportunity to close the gap between them and slid an arm around the rookie's shoulder. Shakes tensed further before realizing Rasta had once again moved without him realizing.
"How bout we take this back to the rental. Ain't no reason to stay out here anymore."
Rasta was expecting some amount of protest, but Shakes made no attempt to resist being walked back down the street. The rookies hood hid his face, but Rasta was more than certain it wasn't due to Shakes starting at his feet. It was a little more than halfway home before either of them attempted talking again.
"So...Uber. I know he's got it out for ya Shakes-mon, but y'know you don't need to be afraid of him. I mean, after what we pulled on the Iron Tanker, you should know that we..."
"...Captain..?"
"...Ya"
"I...It's...It's not Uber."
"What do ya mean, Shakes?"
Shakes voice dropped as he tried once again to hide inside his hoodie.
"M'not having nightmare's about Uber. And it's not Iron Tank either"
"....Well don't be tellin' me dat nothings wrong, cause I know dat somethin' be very, very wrong right now"
What came out next wasn't entirely audible. Even with ears trained to hear Coach barking out plays from a football field away, Dancing Rasta still had to strain himself. Out of whatever Shakes was trying to convey, only one word made came through clearly.
"...What about Automatic?"
The tensed shoulders made it clear Dancing Rasta had struck a nerve again. His hesitation made it possible for Shakes to pull ahead at a brisker pace, shoulders squared and hands hidden inside his jacket pockets.
"...S'nothing captain, okay? M'just trying to be better"
"Bettah? Bettah at what? Shakes-mon, ya had an amazing season last year. Ya one of the best strikas on our team. Ya do so well at all our trainings. Ya already one of the best"
"So was Automatic"
Silence
"...What?"
"A-Automatic. He was one of the best. He was a Supa Strika way before I joined. That didn't stop you guys from throwing him out first chance you got. How am I supposed to survive here if I don't stay ahead of the curve, huh?"
More silence. Longer silence. Finally ended with a long-suffered sigh from Dancing Rasta.
"Shakes, listen ta me, ya don't know da full story about Auto or why you replaced him. Don't ya go makin' assumptions when ya don't know the full story."
Shakes stood with his head half turned, giving the impression that he was looking over his shoulder if not for the hood.
"I know you were both friends. You both join Supa Strikas at the same time. Except he got kicked off and you didn't say anything when I joined in his place."
"Dat's not even half da truth, Shakes.", Rasta rarely ever raised his voiced outside of the pitch. He hadn't meant to yell, and for a moment he was worried the neighbors would be storming out, screaming about rude awakenings. Fortunately, the neighbors seemed to be heavy sleepers. Unfortunately, his outburst put Shakes back in defense mode; shoulders hunched and back turned. He needed to right this wrong before Shakes walked away with more woes.
"'Sigh' Auto and I...I dunno if we coulda been called friends. We joined at the same time, and maybe things were good between us. Da truth is Shakes, we were never close da way you and Skarra were. Da media knew we joined at the same time and spun some crazy story about us being best of friends. We started ta hang out togetha since it meant betta media exposure. Truth is, we were never best friends even at our best. We were just...teammates who had each other's back, not much else."
A pause. Shakes had at least stopped walking away, so Rasta took the opportunity to close the gap between and continue.
"I dunno what went first, our friendship or Auto's skills. But once one went, the other wasn't far behind. I guess it shows how close we really were seeing as Auto never once spoke about it. Every time I tried ta get him to talk, he brushed it off and acted like I was the enemy. He never really tried ta make nice with da rest of the guys. Ya might have noticed no one has much to say about Auto, even after he's been gone."
With Shakes no longer walking, Rasta drew level with him and took the opportunity to spin him around, face to face.
"Shakes, Coach might have brought ya on to replace Auto, but we were never planning to kick him out. The real plan was to have Auto as our sub, but I guess his pride couldn't take da hit. We didn't kick him out, and no mattah what happens we won't do it to you either. You're already a bettah man than Auto, a bettah player, and bettah friend. Don't ever worry about being kicked off the team, cause I promise it won't ever happen."
Silence again. Had anyone been looking out their window in the dead of night it would have made for a strange sight; two figures, one much taller than the other, silhouetted in the darkness. A scene made quite touching when the short of the two moved forward and grabbed the taller around the waist in a desperate hug, which was affectionately returned.
It wasn't the first time Dancing Rasta had let a teammate cry on his shoulder. The last time had been when Aunt Hilda had ended up in the hospital after a car crash. Klaus had been inconsolable until it was announced his parental figure had no serious injuries outside of a few bruises. Helping a teammate break free of his nightmares was much more touching.
Shakes was trying, and failing, to muffle his sobs all while trying, and also failing, to blubber what sounded like a mixture of thanks and apologies. Rasta let him continue for a few minutes before Shakes finally stepped back, wiping his eyes. His hood had come off during the hug and Rasta could plainly see just how much of a wreck his newest teammate was. His eyes were baggy, showing just how badly he had been sleeping of late. It was hard to tell whether they were bloodshot from crying or lack of sleep. Perhaps it was time to remedy that with what little nighttime was left.
"C-c-captain, I..."
"I know we gotta lot to talk about, but how 'bout we get some shut eye before the game tomorrow. Don't worry, we'll have plenty of time after to talk about it."
So, with his arm safely fastened around his teammates shoulder, Dancing Rasta led the way back to the condo
Hours Later
"Soooooo, we just gonna ignore them or what?"
"Or what, I guess."
Like most human beings, none of the Supa Strikas were big morning people, even on the day of a League match, which meant it took a while before anyone noticed the elephant in the living room. Today, instead of the coffee maker, sports news recaps, or Twisting Tiger's legendary bed head, they had something else to gawk at.
Dancing Rasta and Shakes lay snuggled together on the living room's rather spacious couch, still clothed in a mixture of pajamas and workout gear. Dancing Rasta was leaned against the arm, one arm wrapped protectively around Shakes. Shakes himself was buried beneath the blankets wrapped around his shoulders, curling into his captain's side. It was a very touching sight, and not one the rest of the semi-sleep deprived Strikas were expecting to encounter so early in the morning.
Big Bo, taking in the scene, took a sip from his coffee mug, "Might as well leave them be. We still have a few hours before we gotta head out anyway."
Behind him, North Shaw slid into the room, "Ooooor" he drawled with a sneaky expression on his face, "We could be immature and draw on their faces."
Big Bo proceeded to roll his eyes halfway through another sip, "Yeah, sure, brilliant idea North. Not like they won't immediately suspect you or nothing."
"No no, let him continue. I like this idea." El Matador appeared next to him with an equally mischievous look. This was accompanied by a round of snickers from the rest of the team assembling behind them.
North took this opportunity to pull a sharpie out of his pajama pocket and start towards the sleeping duo. "See? El Mata-dude agrees with me, that's reason enough. Alright, anyone know how to write "Bogus" backwards?"
North was still turned around with the sharpie uncapped so he failed to see Dancing Rasta's eye crack open the slightest before slipping shut again. The sharpie was midway to his face when the team captain snatched North Shaw's arm, bringing the defender whirling around in fear.
"Try it, and I'll make sure Coach has ya doin' pushups until your arms fall off." His eyes snapped open in a gaze straight out of a horror film, leaning in to emphasize, "Dat. Is. A Promise."
"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"
Abandoning the sharpie, North Shaw tripped over himself as he scrambled back towards the door. The other Strikas had long since made themselves scarce, and a muffled thumping from the floor above indicated that most had retreated back to the relative safety of their rooms.
Any other day, Dancing Rasta might have considered pursuing for payback, but the slight movement under his arm reminded him of why he was confined to the couch in the first place. Fortunately for North Shaw, his screams had not disturbed Shakes. The young striker was still fast asleep under the blankets, completely unaware of the shenanigans that had just occurred. Dancing Rasta sank back into the couch, fully awake just like he had been for most of the night. Insomnia was a curse, one which plagued him nightly and reduced him to scavenging for coffee and chocolate at unholy hours. But this time at least, it had at least done some good.
Rasta sank back, let Shakes curl closer, and closed his eyes. It would be another few hours before they had to actually get up for the match. Another few hours of pretending he was getting some shut eye, or at least another few hours of thwarting whoever decided to mess with him.
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rubykgrant · 1 year
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A funny "Flowers didn't Die" concept-
(and seriously, I think he just kept faking his death and then peacing-out to go do whatever, but for the purposes of this, he just stayed in Blood Gulch the whole time)
-Still keeps being way too cheerful with no concept of personal space and is also incredibly intimidating. Church thinks the guy is like, in weird serial-killer-love with him, and expects Flowers will invite him for dinner someday, and if he went, he'd wake up in a room from a Saw movie
-Tucker also finds him mildly creepy, but enjoys getting compliments all the time, and Flowers is at least pretty organized, so him as a leader is fine (also, Flowers targets most of his weirder attention on the unknowing Alpha, so Tucker's like "Hey dude, Flowers isn't so bad", to which Church responds "He watches me SLEEP, man! And he keeps asking if I feel human today, whatever the hell THAT means!")
-Tucker does pitch a fit when Caboose arrives, because now they are BOTH "rookie blue". Flowers decides to compromise and trades Tucker his fancy aqua armor, and Flowers gets a new set for himself (still blue, but now it has different highlights, etc). Tucker feels like he's the favorite because he gets the cool armor, and Church thinks he's the favorite but in a BAD way
-Caboose is actually more welcomed by Church this time. He needs SOMEBODY to be a Flowers-buffer, and boy oh boy, does Caboose rise to the occasion!
-Church doesn't have to act like the leader anymore, but Flowers encourages him to "show initiative", and this usually means being the one to go yell at the Reds. Church is good at yelling (also, Flowers knows how to sort of "trick" Church into accidentally coming up with good plans. like, he works backwards by presenting a stupid idea, letting Church pick it apart, and then Church comes up with an oddly good strategy. y'know, like somebody who could create highly advanced scenarios and predicting outcomes)
-Sarge gets fixated on Flowers, because the guy never gets directly involved with any of the fighting, so this turns into a Captain Ahab and the White Whale situation (but the whale is actually Blue). Sarge also hates him because it is impossible to have an argument with Flowers; he turns every insult into a compliment. It's actually kind of a perfect rivalry
-Simmons wants to personally murder Flowers, because he heard Simmons say something to Sarge about having a father-son relationship, and offered to let Simmons call him "daddy". Simmons isn't sure if that was just a miscommunication, spiteful mockery, or a freaky flirtation, but HE DID NOT LIKE IT. Grif doesn't even say anything about it specifically, but every time they see Flowers, he just loudly chuckles in mean-spirited glee
-Grif didn't really care about Flowers at all one way or the other... until the guy made references about knowing Grif's family and stuff that isn't even in his files. So yeah, he agrees with Church, Flowers is CREEPY
-Donut totally didn't get that this guy was the actual Blue Team leader at first, and he kept going back to the "store" to buy "supplies". Flowers just... gives him things. When they finally realize what's been going on, the Reds are confused about why Flowers didn't just kill Donut, and the Blues are ticked that Flowers gave the Reds their cereal. Eventually, Flowers and Donut have more conversations together, and nobody likes how it SOUNDS
-When Tex arrives, she genuinely doesn't recognize him. Agent Florida didn't speak to her much, and his armor looked different. She's kind of annoyed with him though. Stop flirting with her boyfriend! Or ex-boyfriend! Or whatever Church is!
-Church "dies", and Flowers is a little freaked-out by the fact that the Alpha AI didn't instantly present itself as a holographic avatar. Did it just... stop existing? How bad did her screw this up??? Oh, never mind, Church is a "ghost". He keeps offering to "share his body" with Church (knowing perfectly well how it works to have an AI hang out in your head), WHO DOES NOT CARE FOR THAT WORDING, NOPE
-Omega gets loose, and this sucks for Flowers. When the AI is with Caboose, there is a combination of two sources of anger in there, and now Flowers has to listen to VERY specific and ominous threats for a change. He's getting bullied
-Flowers finally gets known as a Freelancer when Wyoming shows up, and he's kind of mad about it. He had a WHOLE THING GOING, he was COMMITTED TO THE ROLE, and now it is RUINED. Also, Tex is embarrassed she didn't figure it out
-After the whole "getting exploded to the future" thing happens and they return to Blood Gulch, everybody decides to ignore Flowers. Like, they literally play the "Did you hear that? Must have been the wind" game when he talks. He hates this! He needs ATTENTION! Simmons runs away to be a Blue, and Flowers wanders off to sulk (so, the stuff with the cave, and him getting Omega for a bit still happens. now, instead of him randomly getting shot and killed, he winds up knocked-out, and later fakes like he has temporary memory loss for everything that has happened recently. he's still officially "reported" as being KIA)
-Kai shows up, and she won't stop arguing with him. Flowers doesn't get snippy very often, but Kai contradicts everything he says, and he gets harmlessly frustrated
-After the big finale of Blood Gulch, Flowers INSISTS on being the who relocates Church. When Wash shows up looking for them, Flowers expects Wash won't recognize him just like Tex, but Wash DOES, and the bit is once again ruined
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soliloquy-unforgotten · 4 months
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Final Fantasy XVI - Martyrs, Individualism, and other Review-like Stuff (Spoilers!)
As one might suppose by the title, I've recently finished Final Fantasy XVI. Playing the game I had a lot of Thoughts, which isn't uncommon, and happened to encourage me to create this little blog for me to store these thoughts for posterity. Therefore, while I'm not yet sure who this introduction is even for, at least it's over. Onwards!
I will start this by getting the easy part out, which I have prior dubbed "the Review-like Stuff" - how "good" are the game's, y'know, things. I'll be pretty direct on this paragraph: visually and musically, the game is a whole meal. The scenarios look amazing, the big magical effects look, well, big and magical (in the best way! also very colorful). I just don't dig the character design all that much, personally, but it does deliver on the sort of realistic medieval fantasy air they set out to deliver - and hey, Jill's clothes actually look like functional female fighting clothes! Progress, I suppose. And the music, of course, delivers just as well - Masayoshi Soken, not content with putting out banger after banger for Final Fantasy XIV (the critically-acclaimed MMORPG, etc) decided to grace XVI with a series of adequately epic-sounding tracks, going as far as to reference musical motifs from prior entries in the series and toss us franchise fans some delicious treats. Yum.
Alright, onto the meat of what I actually wanted to write here - the story and gameplay. I'm gonna bundle both of these up because I think they're intertwined to an extent - or at least, some of the criticism I have about the gameplay is a direct product of how they wrote the story. But I suppose I might be putting the cart before the horses here so let's take a step back.
When playing FF XVI, you control a single character - Clive Rosfield, Ifrit's Dominant and certified Chosen One. You get other companions fighting alongside you here and there, and for most of it you're also accompanied by bestest of boys Torgal, but you never get to control any of them, they have no customization in terms of equipment, and actually the effect they have on gameplay is very minor - mostly making it less annoying to fight large hordes of enemies. So much so that you also never choose who's tagging along, they just join or leave the party automatically according to the story beat.
I recall being a bit disappointed when the previous entry in the franchise, XV, came out - because I had three buddies with me for the journey but I never got to play with them, only edit their equips and perform some dual techs with them during fights. XVI seemed to double down on this departure from party member control, straying even further from the molds of a party-oriented game and coming closer to the likes of Devil May Cry, the Witcher, both of the Nier games, and so on. I should note the influence of the first I cited is quite noticeable.
"Alas, Daka, it could not be helped!", I hear you say. "For Clive is one of only eight people in the world who can freely use magic, AND even if he parties up other Dominants, he'll drain their power eventually! So it can't be helped!". Well, voice in my head who is trying to predict an argument, that's still just a narrative choice they made. Had they decided to make it a party-oriented game, they could easily have written the story in a way that doesn't have Clive strip other Dominants of their power (and even that's kind of finnicky, because Jill is still added to the party for the DLC, far after Clive absorbed her Eikon), or just strip them of the power to Prime but leave their magical ability intact. Or have his fellow party members all be non-Dominants like Gav. Or have them share Clive's power through some sort of covenant, like if he could donate them the power of any Eikons he's not currently using (you do end up with five more Eikons than you can wield in combat, after all).
All this to say that they made a very conscious choice in making Clive's journey be so solitary - he wields the power and bears the burden for it, since being magical in this setting comes with a side effect of slowly turning into stone. Even when he has his (long overdue and very awkwardly paced) romantic development with Jill, she doesn't even try to dissuade him from bearing all of the burden himself - just reassured him that she believed in him and would be by his side to the end. Kind of bold words when you're speeding your new boyfriend along the route of becoming an Ifrit-shaped piece of rock, but it sort of cements the narrative that Clive is the very special Chosen One, and it's useless to try to relieve him of his burden - best to simply give him emotional support when necessary and help in whatever ways a mere mortal can.
Eventually, the narrative reveals that what's been killing the land all along (through a drying out of all life called the Blight) is the usage of magic itself. It's been happening ever since a different race discovered magic, ages ago, in what one may call an Original Sin (!) of sorts. Clive's battle is to, ironically, amass as much of the capacity to use magic without crystals into himself as possible, to then destroy humanity's creator, who both discovered magic and gave humans the means to wield it, and finally use all this accumulated power to destroy the ("sinful") practice of magic and die in the process, overwhelmed by the weight of this feat.
So our dear protagonist is, to recap, a Chosen One, born to be the physical vessel of a godlike being, and he sacrifices himself to cleanse humanity of the sins that are plaguing them. You know who else reportedly did that? That's right, baby: it's Jesus Christ.
Did I write several paragraphs just to arrive at this allegory? Perhaps. But pointing out the symbolic connections between Clive and ol' J.C. is important to eventually arrive at my main argument regarding FFXVI and its place in the franchise: it is very Western. It is prominently influenced by an occidental zeitgeist and ideology (which are indissociable from Christianity as a cultural system of rules and values). This manifests in the narrative itself, yes, which also has a big focus on defending "free will" and rejecting what sort of amounts to what one might describe as, uh, spiritual communism; but it also manifests in the gameplay itself, which is both emblematic of this narrative (via having you control a solitary martyr upon whose shoulders solely relies success or failure), but also more literally influenced by the West - with the gameplay mechanics and quest dialogue structure more closely resembling western action RPGs than any other game in the franchise.
My intent here was not to say FFXVI doesn't have any community-oriented themes (many sidequest chains are explicitly about that), but to point out the ways in which the tone and feel of the game reflect certain staple Western values - individuality most of all - beyond the simple fact of the game's European fantasy setting. I'm also not saying that's a bad thing, just that it is a thing, and these are some of the elaborations I arrived at when I tried to ask myself questions like "why does this feel the way it does?". I'm also very particular about not saying things like "this feels or doesn't feel like a Final Fantasy game" because this is a franchise that loves nothing more than reinventing itself, and XVI was but the latest one to do just that. And for what it's worth, the game was great! I had a blast. I have my nitpicks about it but, hey, none of them was a dealbreaker.
...I do wanna have a party again for the next one though.
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Pelipper mail! It is wearing a lei, and unceremoniously drops a phone in your lap before flying off. The phone has a novelty case on it, displaying a beach at sundown and the phrase "It's always sunny in Margaritaville!"
There is a small crack in the screen that seems to shimmer and shift with the light when you tilt the phone this way and that. The default background is, predictably, a beach vista. There is a single, black boat on the water, and while you can't make out their features you can see a half dozen people on the deck looking directly at you. If you try to change the background the boat and the water it's on will somehow always reappear. The people seem to come and go as they please, but are always looking directly at you when they show up. It makes you feel vaguely nauseous.
The note attached reads:
"Ahoy hoy! Sorry to hear ya fried your old phone, hope there wasn't too much good stuff on there. Here's a new one, with a few new buddies included! You can change out the case if ya want, of course, but if I was you I definitely wouldn't let that crack get any bigger 😅
Keep it sunny, sailor!
-@poke-jimmy-butchett "
y'know what i'm PRETTY sure i told clatterclatter to tell you it was okay, i could just grab a secondhand phone from PEX, i didn't need anything haunted, but of FUCKING COURSE the little shit-
well. it's here now and it works, or at least it downloaded rotumblr and logged me in without any trouble, so i guess i'll just uh. i'll just make my peace with the dudes on the boat for the time being. or something.
clatterclatter's still got my old phone by the way but i managed to turn the internet off and i think it's too dumb to figure out turning it back on. i hope. the thing'll blow up on it sooner rather than later anyway. probably literally. i swear it was starting to smoke by the time i got it back
teach me to leave electronics unattended in the same room as a rotom i guess. even if it's never shown any inclination to leave the lawnmower previously
thanks jimmy. are you uh. having fun in the haunted margaritaville or
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queerenteen · 2 years
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under a different sea
(aka what if the little mermaid fell in love with the sea witch)
The Sea Witch from The Little Mermaid was nothing more than a greedy, evil woman who wanted power for herself and misery to befall the mermaid.
Nah, misogynistic, and honestly, boring and predictable.
Seriously Disney, pick a new tune.
The Sea Witch was a neutral party who simply granted the mermaid's wishes. She even included a caveat so that the mermaid could return to the sea even after the prince spurned her—telling her to reconsider.
But the princess chose to turn to seafoam rather than bathe in the blood of her beloved.
Morbid and kinda heartbreaking but Hans Christian Anderson wrote this in the aftermath of a friend's marriage: wallowing in his own misery so what else could one expect?
Here's the thing: The Sea Witch was a woman of great power.
Even the King of the Seven Seas feared her.
Women in power often get vilified.
We call her Ursula, but that was the name of the prince's beau, the one who won his favour over Ariel.
The old tales simply refer to her as the Witch.
But there's a name that mortal minds have forgotten—one that suits someone who rose from the hydrothermal vents and can control entire ocean currents with a lazy wave of her tentacle. 
Maya.
Magic.
Maya is a Sea Witch. She has no traditional parents, but rather coalesced from the heart of the seven seas and arose from the vicious stream of the underwater volcano in a haze of ink.
Her power is great and everything she does comes with a price.
It is the way of the sea—nothing is ever free.
While Maya is magic, sparks and lightning flowing through her veins like holy fire, there is only so much she can do against the natural order.
So she waits in her lonely corner of the kingdom. 
Eventually, she gains companions: great long moray eels with wickedly sharp teeth and even sharper humour.
They make the days feel less empty.
She's perfectly happy being left alone other than the vague: "Make an evil shark eat my ex's entire brood!" or "I win the hand of one of the princesses!" or god forbid "Please teach me your beguiling Sea Witch ways!"
Acantha and Surena (her beloved eels) eat the first kind, chase away the second and Maya hits the third with a memory spell that leaves them drooling messes caught in a sea drift.
Maya is set in her routine. It's hard being a Sea Witch and maintaining the steady equilibrium of seven different seas! She kinda wishes that the ocean would pop another kid from the volcano brewing in the Western seas but the last three such events hadn't bred any results so she wasn't really expecting much.
Shame.
She would have made a good older sister.
So Maya's brewing a potion that would increase the zooplankton because the blue whales were being hunted down (she had another cauldron with paralytic poison brewing at the back, one that would take care of those nasty hunters) when a cheery voice calls out: "Hello, is anyone home?"
Maya rolls her eyes. Real original.
She really hopes it's one of the first kind bastards because she needs to feed her girls.
Speaking of:
"Boss," hisses Acantha, needle teeth on display. "There's a pretty girl out front waiting for you!"
"You need to get out more," agrees Surena, whacking Maya's shoulder with the end of her tail. 
"If she wants to be an apprentice—" says Maya threateningly, letting ink bloom around her.
"Pshaw," says Acantha, curling around her waist, the junction where deep purple fades away to light blue. "I think you'll be surprised."
"Fine," says Maya with a pout. They gang up against her too much. "I'll check it out."
"I can't make princesses fall in love willy-nilly, y'know—" begins Maya, exiting her cave with a flourish. "No matter what you knuckleheads seem to think."
There's a shrill squeak and Maya follows the sound. 
"Oh fuck," she says, eyes still on her guest. "How have I pissed off the Big Guy this time?"
Because floating in front of Maya is Princess Ariel, the youngest daughter of the king.
Well, at least Acantha was right when she said pretty.
.
Ariel is pretty.
If you're thinking pale ivory skin, light green tail, a coin-sized waist and a fucking sea shell bra then you are sorely mistaken.
Like seriously, who the hell wants to wear a crab's home on their boobs?
And contrary to popular belief, girls need to eat too.
The only common denominator is the red hair, but even that's not what most are familiar with.
We should start from the beginning.
Years ago, King Triton of the Seven Seas fell in love with Athena.
She was—cue scandalous gasp—a commoner.
Triton himself was royal blood, a humpback of ye olden days—stoic and dignified.
Athena though—she was a tetra.
And she gifted her blinding neon beauty to all seven of her daughters.
And Ariel, Athena's beloved Ari, was a Cardinal.
Her tail was a brilliant fiery red, with a streak of iridescent blue scales down one side.
While Athena and some of her daughters had rich brown skin, Ari's was golden, a blend of both her parents.
And her hair, a stunning shade of coral red, was streaked with a deep ocean blue just above her right temple.
Pretty honestly didn't do her justice.
Ari turns her glowing blue eyes, just like her father's, towards Maya who groans dramatically.
"Nothing!" insists Ariel sweetly, and Maya knows better than to believe that.
"Yeah right. What do you want?"
Ariel takes a deep breath. 
"I want to go to the human world."
"I'm sorry," says Maya, dread flowing through her veins. This is going to be a disaster. "You want to go where?"
.
Okay, so Ari has entered this whole 'make a bargain with a Sea Witch' with a skewed perspective.
To be fair, no one really talks about her in the Palace, and whatever rumours Ari has heard painted her as a gluttonous monster who had wicked minions that liked to hunt down her enemies.
So Ari does the sensible thing and carries a harpoon strapped to her back.
Like Mama always said, be kind but ready to stab a bitch if necessary.
But Acantha and Surena are so sweet, and Ari has started to doubt everything she had ever heard.
And then the Sea Witch enters.
"Her name's Maya," Surena had mentioned ever so helpfully. 
And Ari knows then and there that all the blather she had ever heard about Maya was born out of jealousy.
Because honestly, everyone and their mother knew how powerful the Sea Witch was.
Add a voluptuous figure with striking, gravity-defying white hair that curled around Maya's face, her inky purple tentacles and her eyes: an eerie burning green like greek fire on water; no wonder people felt inadequate. 
"I can't make princesses fall in love willy-nilly, y'know," says Maya casually, and Ari wants to laugh because she definitely can.
If Ari's sisters were here, they would be having trouble picking up their jaws from the seabed.
.
Maya rubs her forehead.
This whole thing is exhausting.
"Okay, start from the beginning?"
Ariel—call me Ari, the only person who calls me Ariel is Dad when he's mad—Ari, hums. 
"I collect mortal things," she says, rummaging around the knapsack at her waist and pulling out—a fork? "A seagull told me they use this to comb hair but that doesn't seem right."
Maya rolled her eyes. "Seagull brains are ninety per cent feather what did you expect? It's a fork, it's used to eat."
"Oh!" said Ari, examining the rusty metal with newfound gusto.
"Get to the point—"
"Right, so remember the storm the other day?"
Maya scoffs. Remember the storm?
It had taken a whole fucking lot of effort to calm down Squidward, the giant Kraken living in the trench next to the Capitol. The last thing she wants is for the humans to launch a manhunt for him.
He's kinda grumpy but no sea creature under her protection was going to be hunted.
"Yes," says Maya tersely.
"Yeah, I might have snuck out that day—"
"Of course you did."
Winter is fast approaching, which meant Queen Athena has made her annual voyage to the Southern Seas. And everyone knew that the King knew jack-shit about corralling his children.
"A ship got wrecked in the storm."
"They're made of wood, not really durable in thunderstorms in the middle of the sea. So, you looted it or something?"
Maya hopes she found some of those loose leaves that humans boiled and drank. Tea, that's what it was. You couldn't find that stuff underwater.
Boiled seaweed didn't really taste appealing.
"No!" says Ari, appalled by the very thought. 
How her mother was Queen Athena, who met King Triton after successfully stealing the Deep Sea Pearl straight from the royal coffers, Maya would never know.
"Then?"
"I..." The rest of her sentence was an incoherent mumble. 
"Speak up," says Acantha, and Ari startles like she forgot that Maya's eels were there. 
"I might have saved the prince's life?" says Ari sheepishly and Maya resists the urge to facepalm.
She knew it was going to be some bullshit.
"And what, now you want legs to go see if he remembers you or something?"
"Well, I just wanted to explore? And the prince owing me a life debt seems like a good place to start."
"It's not some love at first sight bullshit, is it?" Please, please don't be love at first sight bullshit. 
Maya would hate to explain to Queen Athena why her daughter doesn't remember a week of her life. 
Triton can go suck a cuttlefish.
"I don't think so?" says Ari and that's not very promising.
Maya tips back her head and groans.
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riorangedeezguts · 1 month
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hey rio what are your pronouns
"Pronouns, you say, bastard? You mean those made up thingies used by the left to push their pointless political agendas and Big Pharma? Those hormones aren't gonna sell themselves, y'know!"
It's comical to Rio just how unamused you look from that response alone. He lets the silence linger a little longer for maximum effect before changing stances entirely.
"...Kidding, kidding! I know what a goddamn pronoun is, I wasn't born yesterday! I mean, do I look like that oaf Q-taro?"
With that, the mental image of Q-taro digging wax (and potentially what little brain matter he has) out of his ear with a pinkie finger comes to mind, and Rio almost snorts to himself before deciding to move on.
"Keep staring at me like that, and I'll have to forcefully change your pronouns to fuck/you!" He threatens, though it sounded better in his head than it did out loud. Whatever, you want to know his pronouns, right? If you really care that much, you'll disregard his blunder and listen up. "My pronouns, yeah?" He asks. "Eh... honestly, I can't be bothered with all that junk."
Humans are all so predictable to him when it comes to all things immoral and offensive, which he just so happens to be both. At least that combo makes getting under their skin a piece of cake for him, but as the most human of his dad's dolls, it means he's prone to this flaw too.
That's the only reason he gives a morsel of a shit about any of this, right?
"People are alllllll soooo sensitive these days. So what if I'm a guy wearing a skirt?" Suddenly, he throws his hands up in the air, his expression cards falling all around him like confetti. "WHOOPDIEDOO! Why don't you grow a pair and put one on yourself, bastard! Don't tell me you're such a pussy that a piece of cloth is giving you the heebie jeebies! Come on, tuck like a man!"
(sorry for the 10 billion tags in this one btw, just wanted to clarify my thoughts and hcs there for anyone interested ^^)
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scenetocause · 1 year
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i would love more of this pregnant max if you ever feel so inclined
(nsfw, mpreg, ambiguously trans max)
"I think it's a hangover, buddy. Like, I don't think we can jump to conclusions going on a podcast with Clem has magic fertility powers when there's a pretty clear explanation." Max groans, wishing Lando would stop talking about this. Or at least, do it quieter.
"Mmm," Lando's chewing his nails. "It's just you've been sick a few times and - I don't know, I guess you'd know best but I feel like... it's just a feeling."
"Yeah, Bob. So let me go back to sleep." Max rolls over, grabbing for Lando and shoving him back down into the sheets. "Be nice to me, I'm a delicate man right now."
"I'm gonna be the nicest," Lando promises, hand running over Max's back. "You're, like, honestly. I know we don't really - y'know - but I, you're really important to me."
"Fucking hell," Max snuggles closer, lets Lando scritch his scalp and feels the way Lando's unnatural body heat eases the slight nausea. "I didn't realise you were so jealous of Marcus."
-
After five months he doesn't exactly start to show, unless you've got your hand in his boxers and there's really only one person that does that but he does realise jeans aren't particularly comfortable anymore, switches over to stealing Lando's joggers. It's odd, he can feel little movements now sometimes, isn't imagining them anymore but his body looks virtually the same, which is kind of a relief.
As is knowing he's more than halfway through it. His silhouette might be unchanged but the swollen ankles and nausea he can do without. And as much as he's constantly telling Lando he's not fucking delicate he is annoyed by how much faster he gets tired, how sensitive he is to sound and lights suddenly, like Lando's fucking baby is transmitting all his weird tics to Max.
But then, it's their baby. Which they're going to have to explain, at some point but for now Max is fine with no one really knowing, only some wry comments about them really being inseparable when Max packs up his stuff (or lets people Lando's paid to pack it) and ships it to the south of France.
Lando is predictably gross about it, sticking his cold fingers under Max's hoodie so he can feel up the not-bump between Max's hipbones. Max has the simultaneously horrible and exciting feeling this isn't going to be the only time Lando manages to do this to him, which is nice because Max wanted kids, plural but also Lando's so into it he feels like he has to be a little bit grumpy about it, get Lando to make it up to him.
He does, with bubble baths and back rubs and letting Max watch his favourite films without a question and then barely taking the piss while Max is crying on him at the end of Notting Hill. By letting Max ride him, the pad of Lando's thumb over his clit, until they both come.
-
By month seven he does actually have to buy some larger hoodies, to hide it but so long as he keeps his shirt on no one really seems to notice. It just looks like he's getting fat, he guesses, curled half-on-his-side in the McLaren hospitality, waiting for Lando to get out of debrief.
He'd thought it would bother him more, doing this and maybe if it was obvious it would but now it's into the definite phase, a recognisable little human on the scans, he kind of likes it. Knowing his body's made something, brewed up him and Lando into someone new and exciting to meet.
They're gonna be cute, he knows it. Everyone's gonna be disgusted by how cute they are and Lando's gonna get another million Instagram followers.
He's vetoed any name in any way referencing the number four, that's a step too fucking far. As well as finding out the gender, the idea of it makes him squirm in a way he hadn't thought about for a long time. Fortunately Lando seems not to give a fuck about anything other than them both being healthy and also seems to get unstoppably horny every time he sees a scan, has mutated his general obsession with Max's body into a specific fascination with this.
-
Lando buries his head in Max's chest, pressed close along his side so that Lando's warm abs are against the bump and he must be able to feel them kicking. A DNF is never fun and Max is happy to hold him, hold them all together, feeling Lando's nose digging into his ribs.
Because Lando has stupidly huge hands it only really takes one of them, touch light and delicate, to span most of the bump still. Max figures (if he's honest, is hoping, never keen about pain at the best of times) maybe their baby will take after Lando and be miniature until they're eighteen or so. A long time after Max has had to extract them from his body, at least.
Like he's thinking the same thing, Lando shoves himself further up, rubs his dick, inevitably, against Max's hip and says. "I dunno how you're - do you still want to?"
Max shrugs. "It's supposed to help, apparently."
"Really?" Lando sounds deeply cynical. "I mean, how would that-"
"I don't know, mate. But yeah, not like it's easy for me to reach now and you've been away for like two weeks." He can feel his cheekbones burning but, honestly, it's felt like a long time and a man has needs.
"Oh," Lando wriggles round to be on his knees almost frighteningly fast. "Fuck, yeah, I can - one second."
Logistically it's not totally straightforward, Max having to cant his hips back on a pillow so Lando has more room but otherwise it's as good as ever. Maybe even better than normal, Max ultra-sensitive to where Lando's tongue's lapping at him sloppily.
"You taste," Lando mumbles, before diving back in again and not really finishing his sentence. "It's so good."
"You just love it," Max manages to hiss back, before he stops thinking at all and just enjoys Lando's fingers inside him, tongue on his clit. It's not a surprise, in retrospect, that Max's sloppy approach to birth control of just assuming it wasn't really going to happen got taken apart by Lando's enthusiasm for getting inside him.
They fuck with Max on his hands and knees, Lando's fingers spanning his chest to play with his nipples and Max doesn't know if he really believes jizz helps hurry up labour but he can imagine if anyone's did it'd probably be Lando's. Just his luck to fall in love with the bloke with magic balls or whatever.
-
He decides not to do it with any fanfare, just switches his PC on, baby in one arm and starts the stream. Waits until there's a thousand or so people on, titles it might be streaming less and takes a deep breath before he switches his camera on.
"Yeah, so." He suddenly can't think what to say, even though he'd gone through it in his head so many times. The whirl of his chat is distracting, trying to catch the words and then Kit wriggles a little bit, jogs him out of the trance.
"Yeah, I've - well, not just me, Bob was involved - had a baby." He glances down the responses. "How long ago? How old does Kit look? Babies are pretty little, though - not long."
"Yes, I'm gonna bring the baby to races. No, just me and him, no girlfriends. Yeah, we live in Monaco now, it's easier for us all. No, we're not married. Not yet. Yeah, the baby's name is Kit."
Right on cue, Kit makes a snuffly little noise and Max is distracted for a second. There's, it turns out, very little quiet as emotionally compelling as looking at the sleepy face of your three-week-old baby and it's honestly pretty embarrassing how much time he spends literally just doing that but it is what it is.
"But yeah, maybe not much streaming for a bit. Got a lot going on, some getting used to it and that. Yeah, Bob's helping - he's been really good, he's at the gym now. No, he's still annoying, just like. He helps."
Max can't stop himself yawning, Kit mirroring it with a soft, babyish noise that makes him melt inside. "Alright, nap time for both of us. Yeah, I'll post baby pictures. Bye chat, love you."
When he turns around, Lando's standing in the doorway. It's not where Max had expected him to be, genuinely thought he'd gone to the gym and he raises an eyebrow at realising Lando's been watching him, instead.
"I missed you." Lando doesn't even look apologetic about it, which is fine because it's Jon he needs to say sorry to, really.
"Alright, buddy." Max stands up, juggling Kit against himself. "You coming for a nap?"
"Yeah." Lando wraps his arms round them both, kisses Max's forehead and then the baby's. "Then I wanna make you dinner and eat you out."
Max rolls his eyes. Of course he fucking does but Lando can actually cook pretty well these days and he's not gonna argue with the other part.
Lando sleeps in his arms, cheek against Max's chest and snoring slightly. Their bodies still fit together perfectly, even after making a third one, snuffling in the crib at the side of the bed.
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Okay so let's think a little bit about everyone's favorite danger demon.
✨Crowley✨
He's going to be a mess in season three. An absolute mess. And we have three options and I'll rank them from least likely to most likely (in my semi-professional opinion) (I'm a creative writing major for a reason).
1) Crowley will drive off and disappear and cry alone but nothing will change and he'll just die in the second coming. This won't happen because that is not the story we want to hear and season two was very people pleasing.
2) Crowley will join the forces of Hell again. I doubt this is the option Neil will take. It would make a nice character parallel, yes, but it just doesn't seem like something Crowley would do considering he specifically said he wouldn't. But y'know he could always change due to anger and betrayal.
3) Crowley's anger and sadness will cause him to literally go to the ends of the earth and beyond to get Aziraphale back. Like literally to the point of taking a bath in holy water kind of desire. Maybe he will. That would discorporate him, yes, but there has to be something at steak and what's bigger than a character's entire existence.
But no matter what option happens...
✨Aziraphale✨
...will have a great time being the top bitch for a while. Him and Metatron—who literally looks like he would be Aziraphale's dad—will have a fantastic time. Aziraphale will try his best to forget about Crowley for a while for the sake of ✨goodness✨. But he'll have some kind of sign that will trigger his little angel noggin to be like oh crap I left him and I don't feel complete without him. He'll go to Crowley in a dire moment when everything is falling apart. It'll foil the scene in the end of season two, or at least I'd hope so because that would be excellent structure. And Crowley will have the option to either walk away from Aziraphale because he hurt him, but more likely he'll accept him back because Plot.
They're on their own side and Aziraphale just has to remember that. And something will cause him to remember that. Then they'll come back together and make everything good again. Maybe Aziraphale will even save Crowley as a nice foil. One thing for sure is that they are stronger together. That's shown in both seasons in the most literal ways (the Adam Young vs his dad scene and the beacon scene).
Neil probably doesn't even know what the finished product will be. I don't know if he's even started writing it considering the writer's strike and the fact that he could be taking a break. My predictions or... or wise and accurate prophecies... are simply just analysis of pleasing story structure,
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eternal-armin · 2 years
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slipping through my fingers.
jinx clings to an idea of getting you back after losing you during the fight on the bridge. reader: neutral. cw: mentions of reader's death, extreme distress in jinx, memories of an argument.
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every single memory she had of you was now a perfect vignette into a misery she couldn't possibly predict.
could you?
in those beautiful eyes of yours, did you know what was going to happen?
all jinx could think about were the things she didn't say. the things she should've said. small things- praising you for your work, saying thank you, showing her appreciation- and big things. telling you she loved you.
she was so stupid not to. so goddamn stupid. and now she couldn't escape it.
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"jinx! jinx, you'll never believe it!" you sounded so excited. you looked so excited. she could gaze at that look in your eyes for days if you let her. she looked at you with a grin she didn't bother trying to hide, resting her head in her hand.
"try me, toots."
the little giggle you gave, so clearly overjoyed to be able to share this news, it could've given jinx life. "y'know that book i've been looking for since, like, two years ago?"
"mhm? what about it, sweetheart?"
"i found it!" producing the book from behind your back, you held it up like a holy thing of legend, your eyes glittering with the sheer joy of holding something you had long loved and long been disconnected from. "i finally found it! i-i'm sorry, i just had to share it with you, you were the first thing that came to my mind when i saw it; 'oh, jinx is gonna love this book'!"
in all honesty, jinx felt honored. her heart nearly melted at your earnest declaration. "that's incredible, [y/n]! i'm so happy for ya! and you're damn right i'll love it- you love it, that's enough reason!" she stood up, pulling you into a tight congratulatory hug, which you returned somehow even tighter. "i tell ya what. forget about work today! we can pull an all-nighter tomorrow or somethin'. i think this is cause for something special~! whaddya say we get- steal- some food, hunker up in a pillow fort, and read this together? while playin' some music, a'course!"
looking you in the eye, jinx could see all the delicate beauties of the world. you were a beam of perfection, a pristine flickering candle that she was dumb enough to let be snuffed out.
"jinx, all your ideas are incredible, but this one i love!"
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jinx felt her face contorting, lips twitching into a frown as she tried to fight back the tears that threatened to fall. her mind was a screeching cacophony of voices, so many that she couldn't hear a world. screaming and crying echoed through her crowded mind, and no amount of hitting her head with her fist would shut them up. somewhere in there was your voice.
your beautiful voice, which once brought her unimaginable comfort. one word, one word from you and she would be at ease. all you had to do was say hello to her and she would be giddy for the rest of the day.
were you the same way? if jinx said hello to you, were you happy?
no. of course not. for jinx? as if.
but what if you were? what if that precious golden smile of yours existed for her and only her? if only she had the guts to ask. if she had just said three fucking words, she could wake up to that smile! give you every hug and kiss that she couldn't!
but nooo, of course not. jinx was too scared of weirding you out to admit that every single gaze harbored love.
love, love, love. god. she simultaneously loathed and adored that word. and it was all because of you! it had become synonymous with [y/n] in her head, but now that you were gone, what could it possibly mean anymore?! what good could she possibly associate with love?! just because she was too dumb to tell you about it before! fuck!
why did she ever, ever let you come wth her? no, no, no, she should've locked you away. she should've. at least now you wouldn't be fucking dead!
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"i'm going with you, damnit! i want to protect you!" you shouted back. you were just as stubborn as she was.
"oh-ho-ho, like hell you are! you are too valuable to put in danger, alright? so you sit right the fuck back down! i'm not taking you with me, alright?!"
"no! no, it's not alright! i don't care how valuable you think i am, you aren't going alone! either you take me with you or i follow you anyway, because i'm damn well going with you! with all due love and respect, you can't fight me on this! please, i want to be able to protect you!"
you got your wish. 'with all due love' caught her off-guard and her resolve melted. maybe it was the look you gave her, too. those eyes with pure dedication to protecting her, always glittering with ambition and excitement for the future. it still remained. she couldn't bear to yell at you anymore when you looked like that. with a curt scoff, she glanced away, frowning slightly.
"fine. i-i can't- i can't be mad at you! you're my perfect partner. okay. okay, okay, okay, you can come with me. you just gotta promise me that you'll protect yourself, alright? no matter what. put yourself first. okay?" resting her hands on your shoulders, she looked you right in the eye. and you looked her right back.
you seemed almost relieved, your eyebrows relaxing and your lips softening into a little smile. that pretty little smile. "okay. i promise. but i'll also be around to protect you."
jinx chuckled, shaking her head. "alright, alright. then i'll do the same for you. and you can't fight me on that, 'kay, toots?"
with one hand, she cupped your cheek. you blushed slightly before leaning into her touch.
"okay."
maybe there was love in your eyes. adoration. jinx hoped, down to her core, there was.
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why didn't you keep your promise? why didn't jinx keep her promise? for fuck's sake. if just one of you had actually fucking kept their promise, you wouldn't be dead on the bridge! you wouldn't have died like that.
jinx wouldn't have had to see the light drain out of your eyes because for damn sure she couldn't leave you behind to die alone, you weren't an animal. you were the most precious light in her life, and now- what, you were nothing?! no. you were never nothing! there was no fucking way you would ever be nothing. jinx would dedicate her entire life to you because it meant you would never be nothing.
she would've dedicated her entire life to you regardless of if you were alive or dead.
but- she- she has a right to be sad! of course she does. jinx would never be able to look into your eyes again, never make you smile again, never fluster you again. she would never, ever be able to hug you or kiss you or tell you 'i love you' over and over until the words made you sick.
curled up in a ball, jinx hadn't stopped crying for god knows how long. but picturing waking up beside you, seeing your face gently illuminated by the morning sunshine, cupping your cheek and kissing your forehead. seeing you smile in that peaceful sleeping state. the tears had stopped flowing.
but the sadness, it still remained. a deep black hole in the pit of her stomach.
there had to be a way- some way- to get you back. jinx had a gemstone. she could use it, right?
somehow, someway, she could bring you back. she could bring you back. jinx clung to that thought with something close to desperation. instead of tears, her eyes were filled with determination.
maybe you had given that to her. that would've been so nice.
jinx decided to move her aching body for the first time in what felt like forever. she stood up, harshly wiping away the tears still sticking to her cheeks with the butt of her thumb.
she had to find out. jinx wouldn't sleep until she knew. could that gemstone bring you back?
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ariadnesweb · 2 years
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The Collector and the Golden Guard have always had a... weird relationship.
Neither is supposed to really talk to the other, it's easier for Belos to manage both if they're seperated - which is why every so often, when the two manage to find each other, a strange fascination picks up. "Is this the person Belos's spends so much time talking to? Why? What's so special about them?" They both think to themselves.
From the Golden Guard's side, the question is sincere. The Guard is supposed to follow Belos's to the very ends of the Earth, and this task is easier given more information about the enigmatic Emperor. The Guard knows its uncle is sick, that its uncle hates magic, but that either way its uncle was given the special power to understand the Titan's will. And this... disc, filled to the brim with strange and alien magic, shadowy and contrarian to life on the isles... is... related to that, somehow. It's at least related to how its uncle knows so much, as the trapped child hidden in the disc makes no lie in the quantity and quality of its knowledge, freely singing about advanced spells and ominous predictions.
To keep an eye on the Collector - the Golden Guard cannot let this meeting go to waste - his own survival counts on it.
The Collector does not think the same.
Belos's had made no secret of his little 'grimwalker' pet projects - raising his brother again from the dust he had died on - it's the first reason Belos had called to the Collector after all - and raising them as if living, to be Belos's eternal companion - the one thing his brother could never be. It's - sigh - an interesting game - working to shape the kids to be Belos's invention; the will of man imposed upon man; just as the little blighters realize they are being used - mistreated - lied to and trapped - an abomination to life itself - and then the round ends, and the Grimwalker is killed, another object tossed down the cliff when it can no longer serve its purpse.
...It's a game the Collector wants to play himself, to test the limits of a Grimwalker's being - it's not a game Belos is willing to share with anyone. No doubles. No sharing. Not even a lot of spectating, as Belos places the annoying curtain over his cell once they're done talking. It's very borish of Belos to act this way, and really, someone should have taught him better, to share his toys with others. It's not really the Collector's job to do that, though - He'll just satisfy himself toying when Belos isn't looking this way.
What was the Grimwalker's name again? Gatherer? Hunter? Nah, it was something like Orion, right? An ironic tribute to the Greek Pantheon, a variation of the 'Hunter' he liked so much. Apparently the name of a constellation in the human world - really, Belos, if he didn't want the Collector to play with him, he really shouldn't have named him that. This is too funny.
All the Collector has to do is - find a way to grab the Grimwalker's attention and - there - he's been seen! Now to hope the Grimwalker is smart enough to pull the cloth off this prison - and!
He's Free! Ish. Still in the cell, but now with full view of the room. AND - WITH FULL CONTROL OF THE SHADOWS IN THE ROOM!!
The scrawny little Grimwalker is taken back by the Collector's form, though hardly allowed enough fear to run for his life. Instead, he falls back unto his fighting stance, training taking over. "Back! Who are you?! What kind of creature are you, to creep around the Emperor's Palace like that!"
"Nyahaha! Scared ya! Didn't I? Got you good, grimwalker!" The Collector had no intention of answering the Guard's obvious questions.
The Golden Guard didn't move. Not even to take the Collector's bait. Yeesh. He should have accounted for this, maybe. Next move, then.
"Your old farce of an uncle isn't here right now, y'know? He's not going to be here until at least an hour, busy with the ceremonies and all that, and you've still got a collection of palismen to keep him satisfied until then. Even if you went out right now to get more, you wouldn't be happy about it, given the decreasing amounts of Palistrom Wood growing right now! You can play! It's allowed!"
The Golden Guard seems to unwind a bit, given the facts - though realizing he still doesn't know what he's even talking to tenses him back again.
"...Right. That's why I was researching... You talk to Uncle Belos, correct?" An affirmation. "His sickness. His powers. The relationship between the two, and the limits of his own abilities. You... He talks to you about those, right? I've seen him talk to the air sometimes, asking for spells and remedies." "Ugh. Yeah. It's very expected of Belos, honestly! Questions! Questions-questions-answers-spells! What if I want something else, huh? Some other company, for once! Like you, Orion!"
"Uh..." The Grimwalker doesn't know how to respond with his name like that.
He's not given the chance to. "Hey! Did you know! If your Uncle saw you poking around his stuff, talking to me, he would kill you? Just like he's threatened to so many times?"
The Golden Guard truly doesn't know how to respond to this. But he spends the rest of the evening asking why.
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excellentexecution · 1 year
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@brothersgrim asked: ❛ i knew you would be here. ❜
Soft and Sweet Sentence Starters. | Undertaker
Battle wounds were always best kept to where others couldn't see. Tended to and cared for all the same, the Hitman wouldn't let friend nor foe see him hurting. Covered in bruises - the latest prize for his loss in a match - sockets to the eyes blackened and his nose throbbing. Bones not broken but close to having been so, to have made it out of the fight in the condition that he was in was nothing short of a miracle. Closed fists the cruelest of methods in attack; boot kicks to the ribcage still felt even hours after the initial assault. Battered and shattered, like an heirloom vase slammed to the floor mercilessly by sinister hands, Bret hid his pains as best as he could. Away from the doctors and the crowds who tried to look him over, in the small corner of the backstage hallway that none dared to enter. A brick wall that merely gathered more dust, an ice pack pressed against the redness of a nose that wouldn't cease. Spine supported by those bricks as he sat there in exhaustion on the floor, Bret was wholly surprised when a voice from the darkness spoke to him.
Beneath a singular hanging light, a lone lightbulb, there stood the Undertaker. A demon to those who didn't understand him, an angel to the Hitman who did. Not as much as he would've liked to, but far better than he did when they first met, in their own odd way, an attachment had formed between the two superstars. An unexplainable bond that didn't care for family nor creed, despite what others like Bearer wished. A friendship, least what Bret would've so called it, a brotherhood. It always seemed that, whenever he needed him most, the Undertaker was there for the Hitman.
Bret smiled, wincing a bit as he did so, browns taking in the full picture of the Undertaker as he stood before him. "I guess I am pretty predictable, huh?"
"I didn't want you to have to see me like this, Taker. How... how are you? I was watching your match on the tv, y'know, before I went out for mine. You did great. What you did out there, I was really impressed. You've only gotten better since the first time I saw you. You should be out celebrating your win. You don't need to be worrying about me, y'know. I'll be alright. Just a little sore is all."
___
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koko-soko · 7 months
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Let me guess. You’re a Zenos enjoyer and that’s why you hate Zero. Because she got exactly the story you had hoped for Zenos. For him to learn how to be around people and go on adventures with you, but instead of him, his voidsent got the story.
Neat, my first ask on this account.
Oh dear lord I would have quit the game if they gave my sweet precious boy Zenos this story. Zenos is perfect as he is, and what you're describing is literally the plot of 6.0.
The patch story is, like, really bad.
1. It's clearly just a trial story, which is fine, but because they called it the msq, they felt they needed to take up a certain amount of playtime. So they invented these completely contrived, fake problems that give us an excuse to waste a ton of time talking to NPCs in Garlemald and the First who really have nothing meaningful to say.
2. The solution to their contrived problem, at least in Garlemald, flies in the face of the themes of the decade-long msq--selflessness, self-determination. It's literally just the propaganda line for 21st century colonialism??? "Garlemald, this poor sweet darling baby 🥹, its people are desperate not to improve their conditions, but to really feel like they've earned it 🥹 ! I know, we'll stop providing aid and instead let them sell off their natural resources to Thavnair for pennies, y'know, for the spirits of the people!"
3. E v e r y t h i n g just felt so god damn forced. The Golbez / Durante stuff was played up for tears, but we literally only just last patch learned who the fuck they are and their back story. Zeromus is completely irrelevant to the plot and was just an excuse to give us a trial. They literally were like "sorry, wol, you missed the story cuz you were just roleplaying a nuke, here's an echo flashback of what the *real* heroes were doing".
4. **Zero.** Counter to what I think you're implying, I never really had resentment toward her *in the context of Zenos*. Zenos had his ending. In fact, he had three endings if you're counting the high school AU. I love him, I love his character, I'd love to see more of him, but if they're done with him, I'm satisfied. **On the other hand** Zero just whines the entire god damn time, in the same exact way, about how she doesn't understand non-transactional relationships until suddenly it clicks for her in 6.5. There's no development, it's like they had an *idea* for the development and direction of the character, but they forgot they had to stretch it for two years worth of main story, so they just....had her repeat herself until her gigantic 180. It's not *shown* how she's transactional in nature or changing, it's just that she literally tells us every patch that that's how she is. It's so god damn boring and dry. It's like reading a 14 year old's fanfic.
5. The constant, unrelenting fellatio of FF4 also doesn't help. I have nothing against it, but they went *hard* with the "inspiration" this time. Makes everything feel disposable and predictable.
6. And since you brought up Zenos, like. Zero went *out of her way* to bring up Zenos in conversation, out of nowhere, four patches in a row. They were clearly angling to draw a contrast here, but it was never made. She never accepted or rejected Zenos view on friendship, she just ... WANTED TO SAY WORDS I guess. God I fucking. That went nowhere.
7. AND SPEAKING OF THINGS THAT WENT NOWHERE 6.1 was full of neat little lore about the voidsent and souls and what it means to devour someone. This all went absolutely freaking nowhere. Just thought we'd bring it up I guess????
8. So much, SO MUCH of Endwalker's story--main, patch, and side--revolves around the theme of companionship. At the same time, the game that story is in is progressively turning into a single player action rpg. It leaves the stories feeling hollow and fake. Like, okay, I should make friends and that's where the fun of the game should be. How should I do that? Uh...sit in limsa I guess? Cuz everywhere else is either silent (DF), communication forbidden (PvP), just soloed by the community (v/c dungeons), or positions other people as either warm bodies or hindrances (PF). FUCKING ENDWALKER man. They started off so strong with the msq and fucked it up every single step of the way.
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rollercoasterwords · 11 months
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Hi Rae!
Have you seen the last episode of succession yet? if you have, can you share your thoughts about it? and how did you thought it would end? I just watched it and it was INSANE (as expected). I thought the ending was great. Predictable but in a satisfying way for me, bc, it didn't felt like a lazy ending even though we all saw it coming. But I would love to hear what you thought of it! <3
hello yeah so i JUST finished it and um. yeah. so
so okay i was looking at spoilers before i watched the episode (as i do every succession monday....i love looking at spoilers what can i say i'm a spoilers guy i love to spoil things for myself) so i did. know going into the episode the gist of what was going to happen lol BUT. personally i did not see it coming!! i hadn't like put a ton of thought into trying to guess how things might end but i was pretty sure it was going to be a "the cycle continues" type thing and i thought that meant that kendall was going to become ceo complete his logan transformation roman was going to remain a dog at his feet shiv was going to remain the woman to the side connor was going to remain irrelevant. so i honestly was a bit surprised by what actually happened!
i did still love the direction they took things tho. i mean the cycles are still cycling of course but i think the siblings' positioning inside those cycles is just a little different from what i expected and so i kinda like it more and less for each of them differently. like i LOVE this direction for shiv bc....wow how fucking rancid. just how absolutely vile of an ending for her...i think there is so much to say about how like. throughout the show at various points she has tried to escape womanhood (as like. constructed by the environment she's in--women are weak, women are mothers, women get fucked, women are fodder but they can't hold the big guns etc) and how she wanted to become her father but in the end the most she could get was becoming her mother. her conversation with tom about wanting a real relationship; the discussion about the bloodline...ik some people are saying they think she was like. saving her brothers kinda by getting them out but. tbh i don't really think she did what she did for her brothers i think it was 100% a selfish decision of her just weighing the scales for what would give her access to more power.
i love the ending for kendall too even though i also would have loved him becoming ceo and completing his transformation into his dead father, locking himself and everyone around him into hell etc. but GOD that scene where he was talking about how this is literally the one thing he was made for the one thing his life is meant for...absolutely fucking gutting and to then rip it away?? yeah i can't be mad about that lmao i fucking loved his breakdown and his pathetic ending all alone with colin following like 5 feet behind. honeslty was kinda expecting him to like. take the elevator up and jump off the building lmao
i'm less enthusiastic about roman's ending even tho like. he seemingly got the best one lol i wanted his to be as bad as his siblings'. like it's nice that he's finally seemingly freed himself from waystar etc but....well i kinda wanted him to stay a dog y'know....i do think he was always the sibling that had the most potential to get out (aside from connor who's like already fucked off) just bc i think he always knew he was never going to become his father whereas both shiv and kendall had a real shot at turning into logan (or at least thought they did) but neither of them managed it in the end. roman wanted to be good enough but i think he always knew he never would be, whereas both shiv and kendall thought they were good enough and so both of them just. couldn't fucking let go
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