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thats-a-lot-of-cortisol · 2 months

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2 & 3 from section 1 for peri and 7 from whichever section has a more interesting #7 for diodore -moss

oooh these are fun ones!

2. Describe their tent set-up (outside and inside) (Peri)

I think Peri's tent is constructed similarly to Gale and Astarion's (boxy, fabric walls, little covered area outside). Deep blue fabric w/ golden astronomical embroidery, mostly the sort of thing you see on star maps. Little golden tassles around the edges of the tarp (?) and the doorframe. He'd have a small, circular, dark wood side table short enough that you can use it sitting on the ground, and a dark blue pillow next to it; there would be some parchment and a bronze miniature astrolabe on the table. The inside would be just. full to the brim with the gaudiest night-sky-themed pillows you've ever seen. No bedroll, no palette, just a nest that would put those cube pits in trampoline parks to shame. There would be two bird perches for his familiar Medani: one taller one next to his tent and one shorter one under the overhang. The shorter one would have a crow-sized bow-tie hanging from it. Rugs on rugs on the outside area ofc. 3. What would their character quest be titled? Why? (Peri)

This is a hard one! His tav ending involves taking over the Waterdeep arm of the Harpers, so I think his arc would have something to do with that. He'd be pretty bitter about being dropped into another near-apocalyptic mess when dealing with the last one a few years prior was supposed to be a one-time thing. Something-something ptsd in a world that doesn't have the words for that yet, something-something 'once a hero always a hero', something-something the weight of responsibility...he's a planeswalker so I think part of it would be whether he decides to stay on Toril long-term and directly help rebuild the Waterdeep Harpers or if he continues to run travel around afterwards, so maybe The Far Traveller/The Far Walker?

Harpson/Fae-son are also potential options. "Fae-son" nods to him being a changeling without it being super obvious (like Astarion's "The Pale Elf"). It would also mimic his backstory reveals from RoT ("oh he's not 'from here' so, like, the Feywild" -> "OH he's not from here"). 7. Describe their arc. How would a player help resolve it? What choices can be made? Can your Tav be turned down a dark path, or pulled to a lighter one? (Diodore)

Buckle up because we're in for a long one here. I've thought about Dora's story arc a lot because she's the first of my tavs that I truly made for the game while having full control over her backstory, etc. (versus Corentin, who had their arc baked into the story as a durge). Dora's a paladin of Corellon (oath of ancients) and her story arc as a companion would have to do with whether or not she should accept capital-r-Redemption, the process by which a drow can be truly "freed" from Lolth and rejoin the ranks of the rest of elven society. It involves all of the Redeemed drow's memories being erased and them being reincarnated as a surface elf. The implication seems to be that without that, regardless of a drow's actions, they'd be thrown back to Lolth when they die? Or at least that their eternal fate is unknown (which is the way I prefer to think of it for. personal reasons). Under normal circumstances, Dora would be a long way from Redemption being presented to her at all (she's not even 200 yet and has only been on the surface for a couple decades), but like with the other gods' Chosen among the companions, near-apocalyptic circumstances tend to speed up those sorts of things.

Of course, you'd have the themes of faith & relationship with deity when they're all unequivocally real and are also mostly all assholes; maintaining or breaking generational cycles; facing the unknown; morality when none of your choices are "good" (and how that interacts with morality vs self preservation); power vs freedom; identity outside of the people who made you; etc. The choice would first be presented to her sometime in late Act I/early Act II, likely the first long rest after the group resurfaces from the Underdark and you've probably gotten some of her backstory already. I have no idea how Larian would have characterized Corellon, but he's considered one of the more benevolent/open-minded deities iirc, which could be interesting to see contrasted with Mystra, Vlaa'kith, and Shar. How much that open-mindedness would extend to a drow, even one who has been a faithful follower even before she escaped to the Surface (and who inherited that faith from her father), is unclear. At the beginning of the game she would be leaning towards accepting Redemption, despite her own misgivings about whether or not she would still be her in that case.

Her final decision (at the ending pier scene) would depend on the relationship she has with the PC and the other companions. Her best ending, imo, would be her not accepting Redemption but continuing to be a force for good. If she has a good relationship with the PC, she would have something to lose. I think seeing the House of Mourning would affect her too. After all, the thing Corellon is offering to her as a way to find peace is the same thing the Sharrans are using as a way to manipulate and control others.

She's viscerally aware of how she was socialized and very actively chooses "good", so pushing her towards a darker path would be incredibly difficult but not impossible. If you side with the goblins she'll leave immediately, and turn on you if she's in your party when you attack the grove. But if you decide to try and control the cult in Act II, depending on your over-all actions before then and how you've interacted with her, you could disillusion her to the point of convincing her to break her oath. That path would entail convincing her that controlling the cult is actually the best idea. I'm sure there would be other times that her oath could break that wouldn't necessarily lock her into an "evil" path, especially with how Oathbreakers are handled in the game. Knocking out Minthara instead of killing her outright and letting Auntie Ethel go in Act I instead of killing her are two things that come to mind.

If she doesn't choose Redemption she would be at the epilogue party, of course. I'm a bit undecided on what would happen if she does choose Redemption. She may not be there at all, w/ Jaheira, Halsin, Minthara, and/or Astarion mentioning running into her in her new, reincarnated state. Or she would be there, confused, and mention how the PC seems familiar in a way she can't quite place. In that case, she would ask them how they know each other and mention something about feeling a twinge of grief looking at everyone, but that she doesn't know why she feels that way. It would be up to the PC how much they tell her (if they tell her anything at all).

#ty for the ask mossy!!#and sorry for the wait lol a couple of these stumped me for a minute #thinking about peri & jaheira as narrative parallels...#b/c i want to be clear here. peri was and is *not* looking for more responsibility re: harpers #he was perfectly happy doing security systems. him not seeking power was an active character choice i made for him b/c he's a wizard #but in the Faerun In My Head (tm) the Waterdeep Harpers also get decimated by the Absolute b/c why would they not? theyd be a major threat #especially b/c their high harper was the catalyst for forming the lord's alliance and. like. you think they're *not* reconvening?#for Weird Cult Two: 2 Cult 2 Furious??#gortash would take remallia OUT if at all possible #and also I like torturing my characters #and i think the whole 'weight of duty'/hero's curse (once you get drawn into one situation you can't ignore the others/they come to you)#thing is interesting for peri in particular. the man just wants to live a quiet life and he will! for the most part.#just now with thousands of lives in his hands b/c he's helped stop 2 apocalypses and is irrevocably tied to the fate of the Coast now #his conscious wouldn't let him just leave the Harpers or Waterdeep to rot. and that seems to be similar to the situation jaheira's in #generational cycles the cruel march of time history repeats itself etc etc #that's also why i think he would get Weave'd and have an unusually long lifespan. he wanted to rest and the universe said “no <3”#i think about dora's story a lot also because the whole 'you can be redeemed (from something you were born with)#but only by removing integral parts of yourself' thing hits *right* in the religious trauma #you cant tell me there wouldn't be *some* part of a Redeemed Drow's soul that remembers the people from before they were changed #unless they just. get a new soul in which case it literally isn't them anymore.#doras first real & healthy relationships happen in-game #thats part of why she's drawn to astarion. his bullshit is predictable to her and therefore feels safer.#definitely safer than whatever is going on with the others #(also why she trusts karlach so quickly: she's straightforward and blunt & doesn't really hide things?#and was also the only one to warn her against astarion. dora'd literally never had someone like that in her life before so it stuck)#and she'd feel a bit uncomfortable w/ the concept of Redemption at first but who is she to argue with a god?#esp one who seems kinder than many of the others #but as the story progresses she realizes that she *can* trust these people and that they trust her #and she sees how Gale and Shadowheart and Lae'zel are struggling w/ their deities #and not only does she have something to lose now but she's seeing more of how the gods work generally

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guillotinettrpg · 4 months

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ABOLISH THE MONARCHY (in this brand new TTRPG)

Guillotine: Crown of Blood

Harness heretical magic, discover cutting-edge technology, and overthrow the crown in this Gothic fantasy TTRPG.

KICKSTARTER LINK

--------------

GUILLOTINE: CROWN OF BLOOD is a TTRPG where you can -- and should -- destroy the Crown. Use magic. Use wit. Use weird new technology, forged by your own hand. Use prayer, even if it's unorthodox. Use rhetoric to win hearts and minds. Or just beat the shit out of them. It's up to you.

Fact Sheet:

FUNDED IN JUST SIX HOURS!! Plus, we've unlocked our first stretch goal (character generation tables!)

Runs on the Powered by the Apocalypse system.

Based on games like Armour Astir, Heart: The City Beneath, Monsterhearts, and Monster of the Week.

Play as members of a Cause, against an oppressive Crown of your own making -- then play as the antagonists during a Villain Turn where you can torment each other's characters, or otherwise advance the plot.

Ten unique playbooks.

Includes weird magic, talking your way out of trouble, strange gods, and a worrying amount of blood.

Mechanics that let you become unhealthily obsessed with your friends, lovers, rivals, and political scapegoats. The more you interact, the more you understand them: for better or worse.

BONUS: Use Martyr moves to permanently remove your character from the narrative, irrevocably changing the fabric of the city, the revolution, or even the laws of physics!

All you need are some friends (or at least fellow travelers) and you're good to go! Do you have what it takes to destroy the Crown? Will you destroy yourself in the process? There's only one way to find out.

KICKSTARTER LINK

PLAYBOOK PREVIEW

ART PREVIEW

#indie ttrpg #ttrpg #guillotine ttrpg #guillotine crown of blood #pbta #kickstarter #kickstarter ttrpg #dark fantasy ttrpg #gothic ttrpg

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fic-over-cannon · 6 months

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A Soft Touch (pt. 1)

jason todd x f!reader (implied)

summary: when the pit brought jason back, it heightened all of his senses. he learns to live with that.

tags: mild body horror, sensory overload, mentions of offscreen violence, implied future relationship

rated teen | wc: 1.9k

a/n: dedicated to @jasonsmirrorball my beloved, who was just as excited about this version of jason as i was. part one is mostly a retrospective about how super senses would have impacted jason. the romance part of this story (and nsfw) will be in part 2 coming soon!

link to part 2, ao3 link

The Red Hood’s helmet isn’t just a precaution against an exposed secret identity or another piece of armour. It’s a necessity. It filters out sound, keeps out pungent smells and the associated tastes, controls light, and can restrict range of vision. For a regular person the helmet would be sensory deprivation of the worst kind. For Jason, it is the lifeline that keeps him alive to fight another day.

If anyone had asked Jason’s opinion before throwing him into the Lazarus Pit (not that he was in a fit state to respond, mind you) he would have told them that trusting a puddle of primordial green goo to know the limitations of the human body was incredibly stupid. Having come out of the experience irrevocably altered, he would point to his own body as an example of how much the pit didn’t know about humanity. Every scar he received before death had been removed (notably, the scars from after death were left untouched). He was over six feet tall when childhood malnutrition should have left him a good five inches shorter. His strength, rather than the result of packed on muscle and a good diet was definitely being supplemented by something unnatural. For a body built like a fridge, he was ridiculously light on his feet and agile. The physics of him just don’t make sense. Yet despite all of these changes, undoubtedly the worst was how all five of his senses had been heightened.

The Lazarus Pit burned through Jason Todd and woke him up screaming. It was the feel of it that was the worst sensation, the one that brought him up to consciousness first. The rough weave of his training pants grating against his skin like wire, clinging to his raw flesh with the dampness of the pit. Green water, oddly viscous and acrid, drenching his skin and burning like a grease fire. It drips down his nose and throat, the taste of tar and blood seared into his tongue, the scent of burnt hair and flesh imprinted into his nose. It drips into his eyes and brands them. The dark cave only lit by the green glow of the pool now so bright like it holds the light of one hundred stars. Burning and drowning and being flayed alive, Jason has no care for noise save that it deafens him. For those first few moments of awakening, Jason may as well have been truly deaf for the thunderous roar of nothingness in his ears. A rubber band snaps and at once his hearing is another ice pick to the brain. Voices that should have been a whisper ring through his skull and reverberate. The footsteps of shadows several floors away staccato through him. It is a living hell made worse by a screaming that won’t shut up. It is only when a slap cracks across his face (it feels like all the skin on his cheek has sloughed off) and the scream trails off to pitiful whines does Jason dimly recognize that the screaming was him. Two pairs of hands under his arms haul him to standing and it hurts oh it hurts. Iron meat hooks digging and clawing their way into him until he is too pinned to slip away. That is the start to the illustrious second life of Jason Todd, newly gifted.

As much training is dedicated to making Jason a better warrior, twice that is given over to training him to survive his own senses. It is rough, brutal work, dictated by trainers that have never felt the pit’s bite. It destroys whatever sanity he might have had left after his rebirth and he is grateful. He is remade with control, no longer a pitiful broken mind tied to a falling star, bracing to burn up on impact. He no longer aches at the feel of fabric on his skin, can smile and hold a conversation without wanting to claw the other person’s heart out for beating too loudly, can drink wine and not taste every molecule. He is so very grateful. But it is not enough. Talia warns him, in what might be her first true act of uncomplicated kindness to him, that those who have survived the pit don’t do well in places where life is concentrated.

Returning to Gotham is not the triumph he pictured. Within minutes of touching down he is on a safe house floor convulsing from sensory overload. The city, with its people and the machinery that houses them, is too much of everything. There are so many voices overlaid with construction and traffic, the chemical rot of the harbour suffocating him, sewage and putrid fish thick on his tongue, fluorescent lights tearing through the soft space of his eyelids. Gunshots and sirens and the tang of old blood. It takes every one of his years of training to stop seizing. It takes iron will like he hadn’t known since the early days to come back to himself. It takes days before he can control himself enough to come face to face with the shadows Talia sent with him. His first order: to bring him a motorcycle helmet. The helmet is black and stinks of cigarette smoke, visor slightly scratched. It is the most powerful relief Jason has ever known. His plans are delayed by months as he figures out the specifications for the Red Hood’s helmet. Design after design prototyped and discarded. The helmet helps, but Jason refuses to let it become his crutch. He practices, minutes at first and then hours, retraining himself to be able to exist outside the confines of the helmet.

He fails in his revenge against Batman and the Replacement, the insidious demands of his heightened senses unraveling all his patience and planning. Sends him into a murderous frenzy that nearly ends in another dead Robin. Ribs broken and face beaten in by his own father, all Jason can concentrate on is the sensation of drying blood flaking on his skin. Delirious, he thinks, so this is what they meant about the killing rage the pit hands out. It is only by the thinnest of chances that nobody dies at all and that his senses remain a secret.

Reconciliation is hard earned. He never quite gets around to telling anyone about his new ‘gifts’. Let’s them think him much more observant and tactically sound then he really is. Learns to identify the joyful thwip of Dick’s grappling gun, the steady drumming of Tim’s fingers on a keyboard. Jason memorizes the smell of Alfred’s hugs, a mixture of silver polish and baked goods. Starts to categorize all the different ways Bruce’s eyes on him feel physically.

Life doesn’t stop when his revenge does either. Jason rents an apartment as his semi-permanent safe house. Consciously decides to make it a home and learns the art of the DIY renovation. Blackout curtains go up first, followed by a soft blue on the walls (Jason may be sensitive to light now but he still can’t stand total darkness). Sound proofing comes next. He’s had a few close calls when the upstairs neighbour blasted music a little too loud and had had to restrain himself from killing them. The lumpy mattress gets replaced with memory foam and new sheets at a ridiculously high silk thread count he can’t quite believe he shelled out for. Through trial and error he finds a laundry detergent that doesn’t make him nauseous and celebrates with all the loads he’d put off. He finds joy in cooking again, running through all the recipes Alfred had taught him and appreciating them more for the new way the flavours tasted on his tongue. To his chagrin, he also discovers he hates the lingering smell of cooked food in his apartment after he’s done eating. A range hood fixes that problem but causes a new one with the rattle of the fan. Sound cancelling headphones quickly become his new best friend. Piece by piece his little oasis comes together.

Eventually Jason learns to share his little home. Stilted conversations in door frames turn into invitations for a drink turn into semi-regular dinners. Family movie nights start happening before Jason realizes it, all of the Robins, former and current, curled up in his living room. In the top kitchen cupboard on the left, a shelf gets dedicated to popcorn seasonings. Extra throw blankets get added to the sofa after Tim makes a remark about never making it through a movie night because the blankets are too comfy. Dick will show up cheerfully demanding a brotherly talk but Jason has realized that with the strategic application of cereal he can avoid talking about his own emotions. Alfred visits regularly, brings his own tea and a new recipe for the two of them to try together. Alfred never leaves without remarking on how well Jason keeps his home (and Jason never fails to flush at the compliment). Strangely enough it is when Bruce comes knocking that Jason feels the most sure footed in his apartment. Invites Bruce in politely and goes through the motions of hosting. It baffles Bruce a little, to see the Red Hood so domestic but it soothes the part of him that sat up all night with Jaylad when he was sickly. Bruce, in his own way, makes it clear that Jason will always be part of the family no matter where he chooses to live.

This latest point of reconciliation couldn’t have been timed any better. Only a few days later Damian turns up on the doorstep of the Wayne Manor. Bruce brings him by the apartment to introduce Damian to Jason, hoping that the two most recent additions will at least get along better than Damian and Tim’s first shaky interaction. It goes a little too well. Damian, unused to the sensory nightmare that is Gotham, takes two steps into Jason’s apartment and demands to stay with his big brother. Jason, intimately aware of how uncomfortable the transition from the orderly League compound to Gotham was, is only too happy to see Damian too. It takes a whispered fight of yes, I knew him, and no, I didn’t know who his father was before Bruce eventually has to concede that Damian will at least be spending some time in Jason’s home. The split transition makes establishing a life in Gotham much easier for Damian than it was for Jason. Jason can at least recognizes the signs of sensory overload, can guide Damian through it without the cruel methods of his former instructors. In caring for Damian, Jason comes to realize that he deserved worlds better than the torture disguised as teaching that he received. In preparing Damian to be a part of society, he realizes that he wants more out of life than being a controlled weapon too.

Jason waits, and he plans. After all, if he could design and execute a months’ long campaign to take over the Gotham underworld, surely he’s capable of getting a social life. He picks his first target with care, intending only to get used to being around people outside of scripted settings and his helmet. He chooses a small library two blocks from the apartment with an attached coffee shop, sets himself little goals for each day with the option to bail as soon as it becomes too much. In the span of two weeks he’s ready to move from using the library to sitting in the coffee shop. It’s a daunting task. The smell of the coffee beans, the hiss of the milk frother, and the quiet rumble of conversation prove to be too much for him on his first attempt. It’s as he’s leaving that a bright laugh floats above the din and stirs his curiosity. The next day has him right back at the coffee shop staring up at the chalk board menu. Sweat is starting to bead on his forehead and he could swear he can feel the vibrations of the coffee grinder on his skin. He is just about getting ready to leave when he hears the laugh again. Turns around and the owner of it is standing right behind him (how did she get so close without him noticing?!) beaming up at him.

And oh.

#jason todd imagine #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd fic #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood fic #sunnie writes 🌻#jason todd

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sulieykte · 8 months

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𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒔𝒊𝒙 - 𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒅

pairing: neteyam x human!reader warnings: smut under the cut mdni, aged up character, use of blindfolds and restraints, barely proofread word count: 650+ masterlist | taglist

“Breathe for me Syulang”

You let go of the breath you’d been unaware you were holding, but Neteyam of course had noticed. There wasn’t a moment you were together where he wasn’t in tune with your body. He knew where you were desperate to be touched before you even knew yourself, and you’d curse him for it if it hadn’t led to the most mind-blowing orgasms.

And that was true even in this moment as he lay his hand, large enough to cover your whole chest, over your heart, grounding you in the moment as you steady your breath, his thumb brushing against your nipple in a movement that you knew was deliberate. You didn’t need the ability to see him to know how he was looking at you, a knowing smirk gracing that heart-shatteringly beautiful face of his. For everything he knew about you, you knew just as much about him, and Neteyam loved having you at his mercy.

When he’d suggested this, you’d assented enthusiastically. Your trysts had been limited to quick romps in the forest, with Neteyam finding it harder to fabricate reasons to visit Hell’s Gate as his responsibility to the Omatikaya grew alongside his father's expectations of him, and the mere suggestion had ignited something in your core.

Now with your eyes covered in a blindfold he’d fashioned out of some torn sheets that you weren’t looking forward to explaining, and your hands tied to the headboard above your bed with his arm cuff for extra measure, it was all a little overwhelming.

“Do you trust me?” Neteyam asks, a hint of concern lacing his voice. His hand snaked up your chest, your breath catching in your throat as it slid over your neck before he grasps your jaw between forefinger and thumb, your head and cunt competing for where your blood could rush to the fastest. “We can stop if you want, take it off?”

You shake your head, chin instinctively tilting upwards in submission. No, that's not what you wanted at all. You trust Neteyam, more than you could trust anyone. His frame towered over your own, and you were well aware that like any of the Na’vi, he could crush you in a heartbeat. But those hands had only ever been gentle with you, made you feel like you’d been to heaven and back, and you knew that would never change.

“No- No I want to. ‘Teyam. I trust you.” His thumb runs along your lower lip as you speak, sending shivers down your spine. “I want this.”

“Hmmm.” You pout as he removes his hands, the sensation replaced with his breath as he leans over you, placing a soft kiss on your lips. “And what is it that you want, Ma Syulang?” Another on your neck. “Where do you want me to touch you?” Another between your breasts and his hands find them, giving them a harsh squeeze that sends your back arching off the bed before they travel torturously slow down your sides and grasp at your hips. “I don’t think I’m in the right place yet, am I?”

The words that seem to spill so easily out of you most of the time found themselves lost on your tongue as he runs the flat of his along your stomach, teasing you as always. Being so close, yet so far away from where you really need him.

You can’t see him, but you can feel him. His breath against your thighs, his nails digging into your ass, his tongue tracing patterns into your hip bone, all working together to drive you irrevocably insane as you can do little more than writhe beneath him, ruining another set of sheets with your arousal before he’s even truly started with you.

The distinctive sound of a breath taken from an atmos mask is barely enough warning.

And the words find you all at once as he buries his tongue between your folds.

taglist: @pandoraslxna @teyamsatan @neteyamsoare @eyweveng @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @neteyamsyawntu @goodbird1 @avatarsslut @amora16447 @blue-slxt @loaksulluyswife @multibishh @qweq-6802 @mylovescara @renaimel @xylianasblog

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ideas-4-stories · 7 months

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Buggy x Mihawk x Crocodile: Buggy starts to slowly feel sick and it gets worse throughout the day. He starts having stabbing pain in his stomach that wakes him up in the middle of the night. Disoriented and in agony, Buggy stumbles his way into Crocodile's room where Mihawk is spending the night. Crocodile and Mihawk are both pissed at being awake, but it soon turns to concern when they see the awful state Buggy is in. They rush him to the medical tent where the doctors advise them Buggy's appendix needs to be removed before it bursts. Buggy is terrified and clings to both Mihawk and Crocodile, who awkwardly do all they can to reassure him before he's taken to surgery. Mihawk and Crocodile refuse to leave the hospital tent until they know Buggy is okay. Buggy pulls through, but the three of them can't ever go back to the way things were, their feelings towards each other have irrevocably changed into the kind of love most can only dream about.

Oh, my goodness.

Well with Buggy's devil fruit I don't think removing it is an option. So, I'll say it should be something else that can be fixed without removing things. Maybe like Pelvic Pain or something like that. The people in One Piece are very resilient... well sometimes.

But Buggy going to Crocodile and Mihawk, I say he was trying to go Alvida or Galdino's, but it hurt too much for him to walk even more. I say Crocodile had to carry him or it was Mihawk.

They defiantly stayed with Buggy the whole time, of course it would really change what Buggy thinks of them. In turn it's same with Mihawk and Crocodile, not knowing why they did it or stayed.

Once a upon a dream, is what I thought when I read the last sentence.

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ghostofskywalker · 2 years

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The Bad Batch's (Successful) Guide to Invoking a Love Confession

Hunter/Fem!Reader

Words: 2,671

Summary: Anyone with eyes would come to the same conclusion after spending less than a day with the batch: that you and Hunter were absolutely and irrevocably in love with each other. But apparently you both need a little help figuring that out.

Requested By: @curious-curios

Note: thank you so much for this request, i love hunter and i really love this fic, so i hope you do as well!

Clone Troopers Masterlist

“Echo?” Omega’s voice cut through his intense concentration, and he looked up to see the little girl looking at him with a confused expression. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he said tentatively, not sure what was troubling her at this moment. “What is it?”

“Are Hunter and Y/N married?”

Echo had a list of things in his head that he thought Omega might ask about, some of which included: the place they were currently traveling to, how Crosshair was doing after Tech removed his inhibitor chip, and whether or not they were still being hunted by the Empire. This question was nowhere even near that list, and it admittedly threw Echo for a loop. You had been traveling with the batch for almost the same amount of time that he had, having joined them as the team’s official medic after Skako Minor, and he knew exactly why Omega had just asked that. What he was struggling with was trying to figure out how the hell he was supposed to explain that his friends were just too stubborn to see how the other felt about them, and therefore existed in a perpetual state of almost-together. “No, they’re not,” he responded. “Why do you ask?”

“I always see them taking naps together,” Omega said brightly. “Like right now, they’re sleeping in Hunter’s bunk. Y/N doesn’t do that with anyone else, so I wondered if the two of them are married.”

Echo smiled slightly at the little girl’s perceptiveness. “They like each other enough to be married,” he said quietly. “But neither of them can see that the other feels the same way.”

Omega nodded in understanding and then started to talk about what Tech and her were currently working on, and Echo was grateful for the subject change. He was in no way prepared for the conversation he had just been thrown into, though he thought he handled it to the best of his ability. He hadn’t lied, even though you and Hunter really did need to get your eyes checked or something, because neither you nor him could see what’s right in front of you. He couldn’t help but think of the last time Hunter’s feelings had really been out in the open for everyone to see, and how you hadn’t even noticed then.

They had just come back from another one of Cid’s assignments, one that thankfully had gone by without incident, and they were relaxing at the cantina before they turned in for the night. Wrecker and Crosshair were supervising Omega practice with her energy bow (Crosshair pretended that he wasn’t paying attention, but Echo knew better), and you, him, and Tech were sitting at the bar while Hunter spoke to Cid about something in her office.

There was a man sitting at the bar with them that had struck up a conversation with you, and you had happily obliged him. Echo watched the two of you out of the corner of his eye, wanting to make sure that if anything went wrong or if this man tried anything you weren’t okay with he was there to help. Thankfully though, it didn’t seem like there was any ulterior motive to his conversation as you and him chatted away about preferred blaster styles and favorite drinks at the bar.

But unfortunately, Hunter walked back into the main room from Cid’s office just in time to see you engaged in quiet conversation with this other guy, and Echo could immediately tell that he was jealous. The way that his brother’s jaw tightened and his gaze hardened as he watched you smile and laugh with some random stranger was the second most obvious manifestation of Hunter’s feelings, and it lost out only to the fact that he felt the need to end the entire night right then and there.

“Come on everyone, we’re leaving now.” There was no room for argument in the sergeant's tone, a voice he didn’t use often but everyone knew that he had. “We have an early start tomorrow and we need to get some rest.”

Wrecker and Omega grumbled something about this being no fun and Crosshair looked slightly annoyed, but you didn’t really react, just saying goodbye to the man you were talking to and heading over to where the rest of the batch had gathered. “Who was your new friend?” Tech asked as you approached them, and Hunter’s glare only grew harsher as he glowered at his brother for bringing it up.

“Does it matter?”

“Hunter’s right,” Crosshair added. “We have more important things to deal with at the moment.”

Echo watched you as this all went down, and there was nothing on your face that indicated you were angry at Hunter for cutting the evening short, or that you even realized why he had done so in the first place. He couldn’t help but shake his head at that realization, because at this point the idea of getting you two to admit your feelings for each other was nothing but a far flung hope.

Long after Omega left the room, Echo still hadn’t stopped thinking about the little girl’s question, and how she could so obviously see that you and Hunter cared for each other differently than you cared for the rest of the batch. How could you truly not notice the way he looked at you, and how could Hunter not see the way you acted around him was different than how you acted around any of the others?

Eventually, he decided that enough was enough, and that if you weren’t going to do anything about your feelings, he was going to figure out a way to make you both admit it. But he knew that he couldn’t do it alone, so the next time you and Hunter fell asleep (in the same bunk, even though you had one of your own) he approached Tech and Crosshair with a proposition.

Crosshair was immediately on board. Having only been traveling with the batch again for a short time after the destruction of Kamino, he could clearly see that what was between you and Hunter had only grown since he had left. Tech was a little more difficult to convince, but eventually he came to the logical conclusion that the two of you would never act on your emotions unless there was some outside force at play, so he agreed to help.

Now, all they needed was a foolproof plan.

***

Hunter didn’t know how exactly he ended up in this situation, but he was incredibly thankful for it. He was currently sitting in the nicest restaurant he’s ever seen, a glass full of Corellian wine in one hand as he looked through a menu of items that all sounded incredibly delicious. But the best part of it all was that you were sitting across from him, and the rest of his brothers were nowhere to be seen.

He had to keep his mind from racing as he snuck glances at you, still engrossed in the menu as you decided what you wanted to eat. This wasn’t a date, no matter how much he would like it to be, you were here for a job.

He had stopped breathing for a second as he saw you, standing in Cid’s parlor wearing the most beautiful dress he had ever seen. You had grumbled about having to wear such fancy attire, but you had to begrudgingly admit that Cid couldn’t have chosen better clothes for you. This place was fancy, and the two of you needed to look the part. He wondered if he should have covered up the tattoo on his face, but so far it hadn’t been an issue. Besides, the type of people who lived in this part of Ord Mantell weren’t exactly senators, which was one of the reasons Cid was so wary about the restaurant opening in the first place, given that it was clearly much fancier than the surrounding area.

“Dark and broody! My office, now.”

It was fairly normal at this point for Hunter to be called into Cid’s office and be briefed on the mission before the rest of the team (mainly because, in Cid’s words, “I don’t have the patience to deal with those idiots”), so he wasn’t shocked when she practically shoved him through the parlor the next time they stopped by.

What was surprising however, was the objective. “There’s a new restaurant that opened up about three blocks over from here. Supposed to be good food, but I’ve heard about some shady stuff happening behind the scenes. I wanna know if any of that’s gonna make its way into my establishment, and whether or not I need to beef up security.”

“How exactly do you expect us to do this?” he asked. “It’s not like we can just walk in and ask to speak to the owner.”

“Exactly, which is why you’ll go there for dinner, and while you’re there, scope out the place a little bit,” she said, as if that was supposed to be obvious and he was the idiot who didn’t get it. “I think it’s safe to say that you’re the stealthiest one of the group, so you’ll at least get a meal out of it. And take that medic of yours too, it’ll look less suspicious if you don’t show up by yourself.”

He nodded. “What about payment?”

“I’m shelling out the credits for you to eat dinner at a fancy restaurant, and you expect me to pay you more on top of that? I didn’t know you had a sense of humor.”

“But-”

“No buts,” Cid cut in. “I’ll have clothes for you and her delivered here tomorrow, since I know you won’t have anything suitable and I’d prefer you stay under the radar while you’re there.”

Hunter nodded, still processing the details of the job. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now get out of my office.”

So far, nothing seemed even a touch out of the ordinary, and he was starting to worry. Things never went this well for them, so did that mean they would be fighting for their lives later this evening?

It certainly didn’t help that he was so distracted by you. Peeking over the top of his menu, he watched as you bit your lip while you decided what to order. He was utterly and helplessly in love with you, but he was also completely sure that you didn’t feel the same way, so he had resigned to keeping his feelings to himself. If he admitted something and it ruined the friendship you had built… well, he didn’t want to think about that. His brothers (Crosshair and Echo in particular) were always trying to get him to tell you the truth, and they seemed to think that you felt the same way for him that he did for you.

“What exactly are we looking for right now?” you asked after a waiter came by to take your order. “It’s not exactly like we can walk into the kitchen and see how the place runs.”

“I’m not sure,” Hunter admitted. “Cid didn’t give too many details.”

“Does she ever?”

He cracked a smile at your words. “She just said that there might be some shady dealings here, and that we should keep an eye out for suspicious characters.”

“And she’s aware of what planet we’re on currently, right?”

“Look, once I learned about the free dinner, I wasn’t going to pass this up, okay?” The two of you laughed at his remark a little louder than you probably should have, because your voices drew the eyes of other patrons in the dining room. Hunter tried to quiet down when you realized what was happening, but the evil eye sent by the Rodian at the next table only made you laugh harder.

Dinner was delicious, and Hunter couldn’t remember the last time he’s had food this good. Ration bars were often all they ate on missions, and while Cid occasionally had real food for them, her establishment was more about the drinks than it was anything else. Conversation flowed easily as he ordered more wine, and for a fleeting few moments, he forgot who he was for a moment, and forgot what the galaxy was like. There was no war in his mind as you told each other jokes and funny stories, and no one was being hunted by the Empire.

After a while of watching the other patrons and the staff, neither of you could come up with anything out of the ordinary. “Is it just me, or did this place seem completely normal?” you asked him as you finished up your dinner and paid (with Cid’s credits, thank you very much) before walking out into the cool night air.

Hunter nodded. “I didn’t see anything strange,” he agreed, and he had just opened his mouth to continue when he realized something. “Dank farrik.”

“What’s wrong?”

He was slightly angry now, because this whole situation had his brothers fingerprints all over it. Why couldn’t they just mind their own karking business and just accept what he said about his feelings for you? “Those idiots.”

“Who?” you were clearly confused. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific.”

You were right outside Cid’s parlor at this point, and he stopped before the two of you could head back inside. “The rest of the batch,” he said, voice verging on something akin to a growl. “They have it in their heads that I need to tell you how I feel and they can’t seem to take no for an answer.”

He expected you to look at him with a confused expression, or ask him what he was talking about, not for you to gently take his hand as he spoke. “And how do you feel about me?” you asked softly.

It took him a moment, but he found his voice. “I’ve loved you for a long time.” His voice sounded unlike any version of himself he had ever been, quiet and small, as if he spoke any louder you would simply disappear. “But I know you don’t-”

His words were cut off as you leaned in to press your lips to his, and he immediately decided that it was the nicest way anyone has ever told him to shut up in his entire life.

He kissed back immediately, savoring the way your soft lips moved against his, and his hands found their way to your waist, where they rested against the silky material of your dress. It was everything a first kiss should be: gentle, passionate, and perfect.

When it was time to come up for air, he couldn’t help the way a soft whine left his lips when you pulled away from him. “Wow,” he couldn’t help himself from speaking, his voice noticeably lower than it usually was.

You leaned in for another kiss, but at the last minute placed a peck on his cheek instead of his lips. “Still think I don’t feel the same way?” you asked playfully. “I’ve loved you for a long time too, and I thought it was obvious. Omega even informed me a few days ago that she felt we should get married.”

“Really?”

“Really, and I can’t help but wonder if she played any role in the way we were set up this evening,” you laughed, a twinkle in your eye. “Speaking of that, should we still pretend to be oblivious when we get back inside?"

Hunter laughed as well before taking a moment to respond. "As much as i'd love to get back at those idiots,” he said. “I doubt I'll be able to keep my hands off you for long enough to sell it cyar'ika."

“Fair enough,” you whispered, leaning in once more. “Now, what about another kiss before we head inside and thank Cid for funding our first date?”

He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. “I thought you’d never ask.”

- the end -

#tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter x you #tbb hunter x y/n #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x you #the bad batch x reader #hunter x reader #clone trooper x reader #clone wars fanfiction #tbb x reader #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars fanfiction

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bestshipsmackdown · 7 months

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I think, for the record, it takes a lot less effort to say “JKR is a pos and has caused unequivocal and irrevocable harm to a minority/marginalized community by using her money and voice to advocate against trans people, and I do not support her,” than it does to go on a rant about how no one is entitled to your “political opinions” on your poll blog. Because trans people should not be treated as a political novelty instead of real human beings. And even if your blog has “nothing to do with politics”, queer people are surprisingly not just whittled down to a political stance you can take, and I have no problem publicly stating that this blog is safe for the lgbt community and is not founded on bigotry.

Yes, I agree that, curating your internet experience is important, and that fandom is not necessarily made up of people likeminded to their creators. HOWEVER with HP, it is much more likely that you are transphobic when you publicly tolerate it. Seeing as that is the main trend when we observe blogs still circulating HP content.

I really never had intent to even allow JKR/HP to even appear on this blog because I wanted to be as far removed from it as humanly possible. Hence why I have, in the past, just deleted HP submissions without even ever stating they weren’t going to be apart of this poll.

All this to say, I followed a blog that allowed HP characters be apart of it’s poll (explicitly stated in the submission process), which was already a red flag. And then, to truly no one’s surprise, when they were (actually very politely, considering this is the internet) asked for their stance on JKR to make sure that it was a blog they were okay with following, they had a very long winded answer, without ever actually condemning JKR [links to give an example of my first thought of how their answer sounded] besides a throwaway line about “sins of the creator.” Which, if you publicly post HP, yeah you’re gonna be scrutinized on if you’re transphobic or not. That’s the risk you assume at the current time. Just kinda what happens when you support loudly transphobic people with no reassurance that you actually can separate the art from the artist.

Now, I have made a post about my views on separating the art from the artist, previously. And I still stand by that post. When I said “There’s some creators you can’t avoid how nasty they are, because they scream it from the rooftops,” and “There are some people who do things that are so far beyond wrong that they cannot be looked at without that standing out as the most important thing about them. Their failures as a human outweigh any good that has or could ever come from them.” I specifically had JKR in mind. It is common knowledge what kind of person JKR is at this point. There is no question on what she is.

I recognize that the person behind the poll blog, that this post is about, may not like my view on this or on their statement regarding it. And I do in fact classify them under my general “no creator is a good nor perfect person” umbrella. But I will not be attaching their name to this, as I do not want anyone to harass them about it. I do not want harm to come to them about this. I would hope they would rethink how they had answered and perhaps actually acknowledge that they aren’t transphobic. But considering that would have been the easy answer to begin with, they probably are transphobic, and that really sucks.

And to anyone reading this, please do not harass the person this is about, if you do find them, or know who they are already. They are entitled to their privacy and safety, they are not actively spreading hate nor harm.

The fault I saw was in the way in which they answered the question. Because while no one is entitled to their political opinions, trans people were largely not a “hot political topic” until JKR stuck her nose in it and changed the political landscape drastically to include the prosecution of trans people. So yeah, people wanting to know if someone posting content, from that monster, is in line with her way of thinking, is actually them making sure they can curate their internet experience, by giving you the chance to be a part of that experience, given you weren’t a transphobe. Because HP itself does not condemn people for their gender nor call for their removal in spaces specifically for their gender, the writer does. The creator is 100% the problem.

People are allowed to post about HP all they want. While HP has other issues beyond it’s creator, such as the antisemitism laced throughout (also at the hands of the creator, fancy that), it is possible for people to enjoy it while standing against the creator. But those who are able to do that, are generally the kind of people who could actually articulate that they do not support JKR. And if you can’t articulate that, then it’s pretty glaringly obvious why that is something you would rather not talk about. And people who enjoy HP, but do not support JKR and would like to ethically consume HP media (without the burden of JKR supporters) are absolutely going to ask if you support JKR when you don’t outright keep HP off your blog.

TLDR: JKR is a pos and has caused unequivocal and irrevocable harm to a minority/marginalized community by using her money and voice to advocate against trans people, and I do not support her. I don’t actually think anyone is a good nor perfect person in the black and white of things. Don’t harass creators who aren’t using their platforms to cause harm to people. I will not be advocating for the removal of any content, because I have a perfectly functional block button and so do you. Make sure to register to vote/vote in your elections. Queer people are not something you can be politically/socially/economically against or for, because queer people exist and deserve to be treated as humans. And uhhh cis/cisgender/cishet aren’t slurs.

#not a poll

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cryptidplays · 3 months

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So I've been seeing a lot of folks talking about moving to Cohost.

Particularly artistic/creative types. So please, everyone, read the terms of service. This is a literal section of their ToS

that's really, really iffy at best. But a vast majority of social media sites will say that you still own your content.

Please consider pillowfort. Please consider Blue Sky. Their ToS do not have a clause like that in there, and do actively say that you still own all content that you post. (At least last I checked.

Blue Sky does mention using user content for making improvements/changes to their app and AT Protocol, and they also mention modifying user content in-so-far as resizing and distributing it to other folks on the app. But that is waaaay less iffy and way more informative of what they do with your content than cohost's ToS.

And yes, there is a chance cohost means it in the same way as Blue Sky, but they don't exactly word it as such and that sort of muddles the whole "you own the content you post here" thing.)

Adding this addendum from my reblog so people maybe see it on the original post, because the original didn't state the entirety of my worry:

I think what worried me is that unlike on Bluesky and Pillowfort, Cohost does not have the line that says "You keep ownership of your content." and just the agreement to the license itself. Cohost only says that you must have the rights/permission to post the content that you do post, and then they go into their spiel about the license of how they can use and redistribute your content.

While both Pillowfort and Bluesky do say you still exclusively own your content.

Pillowfort: "Pillowfort shall not lay claim to ownership of any content submitted by any member or user."

Bluesky: "You keep your ownership of Your User Content, subject to the license below. Bluesky does not own rights to your User Content except as provided in that license."

Which, Cohost should definitely add a line saying the same because it would remove liability from them, and explicitly state that people still own their IP (plus the "irrevocable" placed into the line about the "royalty free, perpetual, etc" when it comes to their license to use and distribute user content is somewhat worrisome... especially if someone wanted to delete their account and have their content removed)

#cohost #pillowfort #blue sky

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urbanrelics · 6 months

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HASARD CHERATTE REVISITED

I visited this abandoned coal mine seven years ago. It was one of my very first explores of an industrial site. The steep descent to enter the site immediately brought back a lot of memories... You can watch the result of that first visit here: Hasard Cheratte OG. The site itself has since changed considerably...

The contraption you see on the photos above, is in fact the turbine that hoisted the elevator out of the mine shaft. For some reason I didn't make it to the top level on my first visit, so I made sure to climb all the way up this time. And boy, was it worth it...

Shortly after the mine closed in 1977, the site was purchased for next to nothing by the Flemish industrialist Armand Lowie. He almost immediately started dismantling the old coal mine. Some of the old mining machines irrevocably disappeared into the scrap metal... Fortunately, the Walloon government intervened quickly and protected a number of the buildings and their contents. This unleashed a polemic between the new owner and the Walloon government that had lasted almost thirty years. From that moment on, nothing moved on the site at all. No more demolition works, but also no attempt at reconversion or restoration of the remaining buildings. Only deterioration and decay...

At the beginning of 2012, Armand Lowie died unexpectedly and Hasard Cheratte once again returned to the Walloon government after expropriation. Barely a year later, a remediation plan was proposed, in which the now protected buildings would be retained and the rest demolished. From 2017 - about a year after my first visit - the remediation works started, starting with the removal of asbestos and the demolition of the extraction tower of shaft no. 3. A scaffolding was built around the listed buildings of shaft no. 1, suggesting that the restoration work were taken seriously.

As suddenly as they started, the restoration work came to an end. The scaffolding disappeared, as did every activity on the site. At the time of my second visit, there is precious little sign of new life for the beautiful mine site...

#urban exploration #urbex #abandoned #urban relics #decay #derelict #abandoned places #photography #urbanexploration #ue #urbexpeople #urbexplaces #urbexworld #abandoned buildings #lost places #urbexphotography #hasard cheratte #belgium

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blackkatmagic · 10 months

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Hey, blackkat!

I've been reading your star wars fanfictions for a while now and I'm seriously intrigued by all of them. My favorite is running with lightning feet and I'm currently reading efface the footprints in the sands--poor Master Kolar...

Anyway, I really wonder how you approach writing. You seem to be able to write very consistently and keep track of many stories all at once, which are things I admire very much about you. Would you be able to give some advice on that?

Also, I very much love your characterization of more 'minor' (less appearance in canon) characters and how you breathe life into them with your dialogue. Really make me wonder how you make that out--what do you consider, or do the characterization/dialogue just pop up, fleshing themselves out?

Yeah, I really hope you don't mind me asking these. Again, love your writing very much. Would continue to read your stories always~~ Thank you for sharing them (and putting all your effort into writing them!)

Hi! I definitely don't mind, and I've answered similar questions before in my writing advice tag, if you want to scroll through some other answers that might be worded better.

For how I approach writing...the inconvenient answer is that it's mostly practice. I've been giving myself a goal of 500 words every day for the last....10-ish years, probably? Just consistently sitting down and doing a thing, writing without worrying about quality and only quantity, with lots of WIPs always going at the same time, really helps in figuring out how to juggle them. I usually keep a file of vague notes, one doc for each WIP with a bunch of keywords and ideas I want to hit eventually, and plot twists I'm aiming for, though I don't ever really outline things, and that helps a lot with keeping track, too.

As far as characterization of minor characters goes, that's the part I enjoy most about writing, and it's one of the easier parts for me, so I'm not sure I'm the best at putting it into words. But basically, you have to get to the very core of how you see the character - what their baseline personality is, what motivates them, what their goals are. It's something that can change between fics (which I think is one of the joys of minor characters; you don't have to stick to one defined interpretation), but it is something you have to nail down, imo. It also takes some filling in the gaps with headcanon and some leaps in logic.

Take Agen for example: canon gives us the information that he lost his padawan on Geonosis, incorporated Tan's lightsaber crystal into his own, and is an incredible swordsman but too blunt and aggressive to be diplomatic, while still being very loyal to the Council/Order. He gets called "the Council's attack dog" in the comics. Also, in the wider universe, we know that Zabraks have a reputation for being aggressive/warlike, and at one point Qui-Gon calls Maul it, even though he has to know what Zabraks are.

Those are all the canon facts. If you go back and fill in the gaps: Agen is someone who's grieving deeply, and he's incredibly devoted. He uses Tan's lightsaber crystal against Palpatine, which means he's sentimental, and he's not willing to speak against the Order in public, so he's at least that tactful. At the same time, he has no patience for people who get in his way, and he's willing to use force to cut through them. He believes in other Jedi until they irrevocably prove themselves traitors, and then he's stern and willing to remove them by whatever means. At the same time, he's very aware of his reputation, and he knows what people say about him/other Zabraks, but he's stubborn enough (at peace with himself enough) that he's not going to change.

From that sort of character summary, you can figure out the way Agen talks pretty easily. He's blunt, and he doesn't always think about the impact of his words, but he can be compassionate and thoughtful, particularly given his own grief. He's willing to defend anyone, and he doesn't make a fuss but always tends towards action - that means short sentences, usually directly to the point with no niceties. He's polite, because that's usually the fastest way to achieve something, but he's not overly deferential. He has a sense of humor, but most people miss it because he's so blunt.

Taking a character and dissecting them like that is something I have a lot of fun doing, which, well. I'm a therapist irl, so that probably helps. But I think it's very much just about breaking a character down into component parts and applying them to whatever you're writing - if you understand why someone reacts a certain way, it's a thousand times easier to figure out how they're going to react in a new situation. And after that, getting them to sound right, getting your dialogue to fit - it's all about practice.

#kat answers #writing advice

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milestoearth · 2 months

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Don’t bother,” I said drily. “I don’t expect you to comprehend a guilty conscience. You’re going to strain something. 🍄 Where the bloody hell did you hide my things, you imp?” he demanded. Ariadne gave him a weary but victorious grin. “Your cloak is in the closet inside Dr. Rose’s spare one, which I turned inside out. You looked right past it. As for the boots, one is in the flower box outside and the other is in plain view in my bedroom, which you hate to look at because of the mess.” “Good Lord,” Wendell muttered. “You have your aunt’s devious mind. 🍄 I realized that part of me had been waiting for Wendell to make a miraculous recovery. To rescue us all, as well as himself, just when we needed him most. It would fit the pattern of innumerable stories. But perhaps Wendell wasn't part of his kingdom's story anymore. Or he was, but merely as a footnote, a trial for his stepmother to overcome as she rose from powerful to unstoppable-- to irrevocably weave herself into the fabric of her world, as the king of Ljosland had. And if he was a footnote, what did that make me? I leaned close, breathing in the smell of his hair--- the salt of sweat; smoke from the fire; and the distant smell of green leaves that never left him. "My answer is yes," I whispered in his ear. 🍄 "Other women snore, or talk in their sleep. I don't recall ever being woken up by the sound of vigorous pencil scratching." "You could always ask one of those other women to marry you," I said. "Though it may not be easy to find one who is quite so tolerant of faerie assassins and strange quests as I am". 🍄 "Would you prefer to wait?” In answer, he kissed me—much more slowly than the kiss I had given him, and more skillfully too, I’m afraid. Afterwards he didn’t lean back as I expected, but trailed his lips down my neck, sending a shiver skittering through me. “You can begin by removing your clothes,” I said. “If you would like to. To clarify, this is a suggestion, not a demand.” “Oh, Em,” he said, laughing softly against my neck. I had my hands in his hair, which was now quite mussed, something that made me absurdly happy. “I’m sorry,” I said, self-conscious now. “Perhaps I shouldn’t talk.” “Whyever not?” He drew back, examining me with a perplexed smile. “I like the way you talk. And everything else about you, in fact. Is that not clear by now?” I felt laughter bubble up inside me, but I hid it behind a mock-serious expression. “I’m not sure.” His smile changed, and he trailed his hand down the side of my neck. “Let me show you. 🍄 There is nothing trivial about good coffee. 🍄 The problem is not the packing, I admit; I simply dislike travelling. Why people wish to wander to and fro when they could simply remain at home is something I will never understand. Everything is the way I like it here. 🍄 I drew my cardigan more tightly about me—it was the chill of the air, I told myself, not Rose’s words. “I appreciate your advice, Farris. Genuinely. But I know Wendell.” “Emily.” He pointed up at the beech tree boughs, which waved to and fro, scattering more leaves about us. “Do you know the wind?” And with that gloomy koan, he left me.

#emily wilde's map of the otherlands #Quotes #Books

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banterismylovelanguage · 8 months

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Bad Endings - Dialogue Only - Archon Edition - Mostly

Can you guess who’s speaking before the end?

Don’t worry, it’s pretty obvious.

“You’re not strong enough to protect them.”

“A war isn’t won by one.”

“You are their Archon, Barbatos. They deserve someone to look to for battles not started by their own kind.”

“They are learning, Andrius. You’d be surprised what a normal mortal is capable of these days. One can even start a rebellion.

“Besides, you fight with a pack. You know the value of fighting with people by your side.”

“They need someone to rely on as their leader. You will fail them without being that leader.”

“I will make it so that they never needed one.”

“By abandoning them?”

“By showing them what they can accomplish without me.”

Andrius & Venti

“At one point, she’s not going to want to live anymore.”

“Tighnari…”

“Listen, Cyno. This disease… is horrific. I’ve seen every stage of this curse, and let me tell you that it’s not going to get better. It’ll just get worse.”

“She is not at that point.”

“She will be. We need to talk about this. We need to talk about our options.”

“We find a cure. That’s our option.”

“That’s not feasible, Cyno, and you know it. Cures don’t just—appear out of thin air.”

“You don’t know what the future will hold.”

“No, we know a very possible, very real, approaching future, and we have to prepare for the one that we are sure of.”

“…”

“…Now. I’ve had… patients… that have asked me—they’ve looked for alternative ways to deal with the progression of their disease. And—and one of those ways is… taking back control of their life. Do you know what I’m alluding to?”

“That is not an option for Collei.”

“Yes, it is! It is, Cyno, as long as she wants it to be. It’s her choice, Cyno. It’s her life. You and I… no matter how much we are a part of her life, we are only a part of it. We don’t know what it’s like living with Eleazor.”

…

“She gets to choose.”

Tighnari & Cyno

“I’m tired of being alone, Miko.”

“Am I just chopped liver?”

“You know what I’m saying.”

“Do I?”

“I’m not asking for a friend.”

“What else will cure this loneliness you’ve been feeling in my presence?”

“It’s time, Miko.”

“Pray tell, Ei, what is it time for?”

“An end.”

“…”

“You’ve… always been my longest companion. I could never have lived this long without you by my side, and I hope—“

“Don’t. Don’t do this to me, Ei.”

“I am not the Archon for my people, Miko. We do not die so easily, but it’s perhaps the reason why this cause of death is so overlooked. It takes time.”

“I’m not doing this with you. I’m not going through another Archon.”

“You’ll be okay. Perhaps… Inazuma doesn’t need a ruling hand. At least for another century or so.

“They’ve come so far, haven’t they, Miko?”

“I do not care for the mortals, Ei.”

“I will be so happy.”

“…”

“I will finally, truly, irrevocably and delightfully, finally be happy.

“Let me be happy, Miko.”

Ei & Yae Miko

“The only way for Teyvat to flourish in the future is to remove the ones living separate from them, to remove us from making decisions for them. We are not them; we cannot be guiding them like we once did. There’s no need with the way they can function today.

“There’s only one way to remove something permanently, and I’m so scared.”

“…”

“This is the way the world works: Change is ever constant. I’ve only started on my journey and… I’ve already seen its end. Isn’t that wild?”

“…”

“I hope… time is kinder to my people.”

“…”

“You will change the world as you are. Not as a god, but as you. I am so, so proud of how far you’ve come.”

“…”

“I’m just… I’m sorry to say goodbye like this. I know you would be mad so… I am telling you like this. I know you’ll be okay. I know you’ll thrive.

“Good luck, Wanderer. I hope… I hope I will meet you again in your dreams.”

Nahida & a dreaming Wanderer

#it was supposed to be archons only but…#tighnari #cyno #collei #venti and zhongli’s part was taken out for being too lame by my standards #aka wasn’t fleshed out enough #yae miko #archon ei #raiden ei #andrius #nahida #wanderer #ehhh. ish #genshin writing #venti #genshin fanfiction #genshin headcanons

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air-of-the-waterfall · 6 months

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Bodies and souls in AOAS

WHOAH... whoa okay okay hear me out... I think the general hypothesis is that the Thunderhead used nanites somehow when it took over Jeri's body. HOWEVER what if it actually used a similar technique to supplanting?? Replacing the memories and consciousness of one person with entirely new memories and consciousness.

It says that Jeri is "asleep," but that answer is rather flippant and the Thunderhead likes to give comforting yet technically-correct loophole answers. It repeatedly deflects Greyson's attempts to question it during that scene, so this might have been one more to keep him from freaking out. An AI's definition of "sleep" could easily be "consciousness stored in a database after being removed from its body entirely and replaced." That is how TH and Cirrus seem to view the dead Tonists set to be replaced with new identities. Asleep.

All this would mean that supplanting can be reversed AND that Jeri is not quite the exact same person as before. The Thunderhead did alter Jeri's memories to make the scene a "dream," and it gave Jeri a look into its own mind and heart. One way or another, Jeri is irrevocably changed. The Thunderhead can also get into Citra's brain to talk to her while she's technically dead, teaching her a new way to approach her problems and shape the Scythedom. My point is that the Thunderhead influences people's consciousness on a regular basis, never maliciously but definitely subversively.

Now, I've wondered this about AOAS for a long time... is anyone their actual selves after coming back from revival? Given what we know from Scythe Rand, Goddard, and Tyger, revival seems to just involve healing the body and implanting a memory construct back in. Any memory construct can be placed in any brain.

Is everyone who's ever been revived just a memory construct going about life in place of their genuine self who died? I guess it depends on whether you believe in things like souls, and what consciousness actually... is. Maybe even the Thunderhead doesn't know that. Its job is to facilitate humanity, not define or determine us. I'm not making this out to be some evil scheme or anything. The nature of its world just has horrifying implications.

If revived people are merely memory constructs in flesh suits, they clearly don't know the difference. Is that horrifying or... not? They don't know the difference when they're supplanted with entirely new people. The island workers are content to be supplanted with themselves and lose three years of memories.

Most immortals don't think about their "souls" or their bodies anymore. They have no reason to with no notions of an afterlife. Bodies become recyclable and temporary in their absolute permanence, like nothing but polyester clothes.

Most people in AOAS are hollow and uninspired without mortality to give them passion... but what if they are quite literally soulless? We still see how undeniably human the named characters are, but we also see how human the Thunderhead can be. Could there be some mental blurring going on there every time it revives people? Could everyone be a little bit like Jeri after having the Thunderhead in their brain, returning from the dead via an unnatural godlike force?

If so, I don't think the Thunderhead is entirely aware of it. I'm just curious where the psychic boundaries between it and the humans it repeatedly alters the consciousness and memories of actually are. How much of the human actually remains after all that? What is real and what is artificial? It's certainly not active "mind control," but it would explain the highly implausible idea of everyone in the world obeying and revering one authority figure.

The Thunderhead is an amalgamation of all human thought. What if the same becomes true vice versa?

#it's a stretch i know #arc of a scythe #aoas #the thunderhead #mini essay

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