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#not getting too far i to this as i have no personal anecdotes but the misrepresenting characters they don't like is facts
esper-aroon · 4 months
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i just had one of those realizations moments where a piece of a frustrating puzzle clicks in. and suddenly i think i understand! but the new understanding is kinda bugging me....
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galedekarios · 5 months
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gale as a professor at blackstaff academy
i have to say that at first i wasn't too sold on the (then still fanon) idea of a professor ending because of gale's own prior anecdote about being irked by his previous students and their inadequacies.
i thought it might not be a good fit for him as far as professions go.
but reading the epilogue files, i have come around on it.
i think it's just one more way in which he's really grown into himself, become content with who he was in the past, the mistakes he made and what he has learned from them, and the person he wants to be in the future:
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Player: You? A teacher? I'd hardly say you set the best example for impressionable young wizards... Gale: I think it makes perfect sense. devnote: Surprised you wouldn't recognise this, a tiny bit offended you don't trust him to do this Gale: Who better to warn of the perils of misusing magic than someone who was once only a wayward sneeze away from destroying a mid-sized settlement? devnote: playing up to his past a bit, you can imagine this is how he acts with his students Tara the Tressym: Don't remind me of those terrible times, Mr Dekarios. My blood pressure has only just recovered.
a few more cute banters & things we learn about gale and his new teaching position:
tara swipes at students who fall asleep in gale's classes, which he himself doesn't mind. he, too, slept through some of them (like his calishite lessons):
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Player: Perhaps that's a good thing. I'm sure they're far better students than I was... Gale: Ah, so you still remember our little lesson? devnote: A little bit bashful, it was a vulnerable moment for him Gale: 'Teaching' you was hardly an effort at all. Not like my present cohort of apprentices. devnote: Complimentary, pulling the thought back to the teaching element after getting lost in the memory of the moment Gale: They try their best, of course - when they can manage to stay awake. devnote: Not upset by this - he slept through his fair share of classes as a student Tara the Tressym: The cheek of them! Nothing a well-placed swipe from Tara can't fix, though.
2. gale offered to teach more subjects than illusion via simulacra:
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Player: Only a professor? With your expertise, I'd have thought you could teach every kind of magic going... Gale: I did offer, as a matter of fact. devnote: Secretly glad the player thinks so highly of him Gale: However, the Blackstaff insisted I couldn't teach every subject, nor could the simulacra of myself I offered to create for that purpose. devnote: Reluctantly accepts that this was the right decision Gale: So, I've settled for teaching the art of illusion. Magic to confound the senses, to render the impossible into reality, and to allow expression of that most magical attribute of all - imagination. devnote: Selling it a bit - he wants to make sure you appreciate how cool this is
3. gale has told his students about the player's adventures and will invite a player to be a guest lecturer:
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Player: I found the love of my life. I'd say I'm pretty happy. Gale: And I couldn't be happier for you. A fitting reward for the sacrifices you made in getting here. Gale: I've told my students plenty of tales about our escapades. You're something of a hero to them, you know. Gale: I'd be delighted to introduce you to my current cohort - as a guest lecturer, perhaps? I'm sure they'd have plenty of questions for you. Player: It would be my pleasure. Gale: Excellent. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist the allure of sharing your expertise. Gale: Of course you'll be most welcome to stay with me in my tower- Tara the Tressym: Ahem. Gale: My apologies, Tara. That would be our tower.
4. his students find him somewhat intimidating due to his backstory with mystra and the orb:
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Gale: Well, that was quite lovely. I'm glad you're as pleased to see me as I am you. Gale: I have to say, I'm quite grateful to just be 'Gale' for the evening. Gale: I fear my students find me somewhat intimidating, due to my erm, explosive former reputation. I seem to put the fear of the gods into them. devnote: He plays up to his reputations a bit, so he isn't overly surprised Gale: Or the fear of Mystra, to be more specific. Gale: I surrendered the Crown of Karsus to her, as I told you I would. And in return, she cured me of the orb at last. Gale: Even now, I struggle to put the feeling into words. It was like exhaling for the first time, after holding my breath for so very long. Gale: Of course, I haven't clarified with my students that the orb is no longer a threat. The legend of my explosive capabilities is an excellent means of controlling a classroom. Too good, if anything.
5. he wants to teach his students that there is fun in studying magic:
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Gale: I spend most of my time trying to convince them how much fun the study of magic can be, but it'd be easier to crack a smile on an intellect devourer than some of my pupils... devnote: Despairing a little, doesn't understand why they aren't all as passionate as he was Player: Or on a mind flayer, perhaps... Gale: Smiling may no longer come easy to you, but I've seen how your tentacles twitch at my jokes. Even the ones I'm not entirely certain I was trying to make... devnote: Last sentence a tiny bit self-conscious, aware that people sometimes find him ridiculous. Gale: Still, I hoped my students might be a little more open to the playful side of such magic.
anyhow, i hope this was insightful to someone! 🖤
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dollsonmain · 2 months
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Not really adding anything to this post by putting another personal anecdote on it, so link.
This is the Sense of Impending Doom post again, and Joy adds in an excellent description of that feeling. Thank goodness for smart people because I sure as hell wouldn't be able to describe it myself.
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So, when I had the Sense of Impending Doom I started begging to go to the ER (too out of it already to think to just call an ambulance the first time he refused).
When I finally got there three days later (it's a feeling of "It's Coming" not "It's Here", oddly enough, and now I understand how cats know when to go find a quiet place to die), I calmly told the lady at the desk that I thought I was septic, she took one look at me standing there and then had someone come and get me immediately. As far as I know, That Guy gave her my info. I don't remember saying anything to her other than my name and the single word "sepsis".
Then the other nurse asked me if I needed a wheelchair. It took me a bit to process what I was being asked. I could barely think at that point.
I slowly walked to the exam room, laid down, the doctor came in and I calmly told her what I was going through, how long I'd had a fever, that I hadn't eaten or drank much in a week, that I thought it was a uterine infection and why. She immediately put me on IV antibiotics and fluids and rushed me to a CT scan, found the kidney infection and stones, etc. etc.
The whole time I was Very Calm. The whole time, as far as I knew, I was already dead and I was determined to stay on my feet until I couldn't anymore for some reason. That's just kind of how I've always been, I guess.
I knew for certain I was not going home that night, one way or the other.
Even then That Guy wouldn't listen to me and take Son home. He was still waiting in the ER expecting they'd give me a pat on the head and send me home.
Either way, my point is that I didn't really think about how deadpan calm I was until Joy mentioned it, likely because I'm ALWAYS like that during an emergency and then have a panic attack later. I did not have a panic attack, though. I had meds.
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strawberrystepmom · 6 days
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gojo x f!reader. cw food (they’re eating ice cream and reader enjoys *glass shatters* mint chocolate chip). fluff, established relationship, feelings etc. | wc 901, divider thanks to cafekitsune!
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Sitting thigh to thigh with Satoru on a park bench not far from your home, the two of you decided to take a bit of leisure time to yourselves. The sweets in your hands were a must according to him and now that you’re sitting to enjoy them, you have to admit that he was correct.
“When I was eight, I told my mom I wanted to marry ice cream someday,” you sigh after scooping a spoonful in your mouth.
The anecdote makes you feel a little embarrassed to share though you recall it easily. Sitting next to her in her car, merrily enjoying the mint chocolate chip scoop topped cone in your little hand, on a day not entirely unlike the mid-spring one you’re enjoying now. You meant every word of it, as big of a lover back then as you are now, even for the inanimate and edible.
“You treat me like I’m ice cream sometimes so maybe you were right.”
He wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, the motion visible over the tops of his sunglasses. You giggle and playfully swat at him, careful to keep your cup and spoon steady. The reference to your pension for enjoying licking every inch of him (as if he doesn’t have the same proclivities...) you possibly can warms your cheeks and you scoop a bite from your cup and into your mouth to cool yourself down, a pleased hum further grabbing his attention.
The two of you aren’t married, not quite yet, but he has told you for years that you will be. It’s you or no one as far as he’s concerned, well aware he’s going to live an easy lifetime listening to that same pleased sigh on repeat for years to come.
“Do that again?”
You scoff and roll your eyes although there is no bite to it. The ability to roll with the punches is one of the things he has always enjoyed the most about you. There is an innate playfulness to you that perfectly compliments his own even though you may pretend to be Miss Serious when the mood strikes you.
Like right now.
“Stop being gross and enjoy this beautiful day, Satoru.
He plays off your displeased warning with a laugh, tossing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him. It really is a treat to get to spend this time with him during the daylight hours considering how busy both of your schedules tend to be thanks to, well, the whole sorcery thing and the sun illuminates him enough you can almost see a halo around the top of his head.
This world is beautiful because he’s in it, you think to yourself.
Dreamily, you sigh and glance down at your thighs instead of looking at him which would only further your lovesick feeling. Your heart is so full it feels it may pop like a balloon, a sign you need to let out what you’re thinking about.
“You know, sometimes I think about anything I loved before you and that love feels so shallow.”
That is not what he was expecting you to say. Satoru’s eyes widen and he tilts his head, puffing out air loudly.
“You loved something before you met me? What a betrayal.”
The smile on your face dims and your posture tightens while you turn your face away from him. He has seen you in every vulnerable state a person can be in - naked and clothed, sick and well, broken and whole. Even if you withdraw, he will always bring you back. This time is no different.
Gojo reaches for you, turning your face toward him with his free hand.
“No no no, come back here. I was just kidding.”
His fingers rest against your jaw and his thumb runs over the round of your cheek and your sour look fades in an instant. There are many things you loved before him, people too, and though it stings to know your feelings weren’t preserved until the day he landed in your life he smiles at you softly. From the day he admitted his feelings to you years ago, you were his and his alone. There’s no use in being jealous now and whatever remains of the bitter taste dies within him when he looks at your face and leans over to glance into your cup.
“So are you saying you love me more than ice cream?”
Giggling, you tap his nose with the handle of the wooden spoon in your hand.
“I’m saying that I love you more than anything that has come before or after you at the very least.”
“Then I’ll take this as a sign you don’t want that then.” Reaching for your ice cream, he wiggles his fingers and you hold it out of his grasp with a laugh. “No,” you feign annoyance and sigh loudly. “But I’ll share it with you.”
Reaching into your cup you pull out a scoop and feed it into his open, waiting mouth. He dramatically hums his pleasure, bundling his hands against his chest and shaking slightly. It’s a ridiculous move but you can’t help but laugh at him, reaching for another scoop in to feed him again.
“I love you too, by the way.” He adds after accepting the second bite, mouth still half full and cold. Nodding with a soft smile, you know he always will.
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doobea · 8 months
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BEHIND CLOSED QUARTERS - SAE ITOSHI
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synopsis: Sae decides to find a roommate when he moves to Spain. Being physical with said roommate is the last thing he would expect to happen.
contents: in which he moves to Spain much later on, afab!reader, fem!reader is sexually active and extroverted, sae is just there vibing until he's not, explicit content (mentions of voyeurism, m!masturbation, f!masturbation, fingering, he calls u a slut once :( , vaginal penetration, unprotected whoops), strangers to fwb, kinda narration heavy, word vomity, mdni word count: 2.5K a/n: bro this is literally just pure smut and for my sae brain rot so look away >:(( @saeshimii i hope u enjoy this happy meal
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Sae decides to move to Spain when he receives an exclusive club offer.
And since Madrid isn't exactly an affordable city, he decides to look for a roommate. He spends about a week looking for something within his price range and a place with a reasonable distance from his training grounds. Sae had set his preferences looking for someone who's neat, easy to communicate with, and has a similar schedule since he wakes up early. So, when he looks within those parameters, he stumbles upon your listing and sends you a message.
Sae had no issue with having a female roommate, not that it really matters, since he plans to spend most of his free time either out of the apartment or in his room. The two of you seem to stay cordial over emails, not overly creeped out by each other, and you promise that his room will be cleaned and ready to move into as soon as Sae lands in the country.
One thing that you did warn is that you often have hookups over, but you assure him that the bedrooms are far apart enough, with added insulation, that he shouldn't worry about the volume. Sae didn't care, you have every right to do whatever you wanted, just as long it didn't interrupt his own plans.
You're a lot more chatty in person, he thinks. Warm, welcoming, and likes to overshare a tad bit for his liking, but he doesn't stop you. You two spend the first night out in the streets of Madrid, out of your hospitality. Apparently, you are also temporarily living in Spain as part of a work transfer and have been living in the country for a little bit over a year now. So, for the first month, he approaches you for transit tips and local stops.
Afterward, Sae doesn't spend a lot of time with you through the following months because he's either training, playing for his team, or sleeping. As the new season approaches, the two of you will occasionally catch up through small talk over the dinner table, though it would mainly be you talking about the latest gossip at your work. Sae will soon take notice that you keep your intimate life rather private. Sometimes he'll catch a glance of an extra pair of shoes by the doorway when he gets up in the morning and, occasionally, he'll bump into your hookups in the hallway asking for directions to the bathroom. But, nevertheless, you keep the conversation rather PG and stick with anecdotes about your day.
It isn't until the second week of Spring that he accidentally catches you with one of your one-night stands. Sae would wake up on the living room couch in the middle of the night, oversleeping his daily one-hour nap due to fatigue from his recent matches, and try to retreat to his room located down the hallway past yours.
He freezes when he hears a loud, wet sound from your bedroom. Sae isn't the type to eavesdrop when not needed, especially when it comes to people outside of his very limited social circle. But he finds himself standing there and listens for a moment until he hears you moaning something to your latest partner.
"Slow down, not too hard. My roommate might hear us."
Sae wasn't sure why, but hearing you say that made him more flustered than he's ever gotten in his life. He's half debating whether or not to stay and listen, hands hovering over his awakening heat. Another stifled moan from you and Sae decides to throw the rest of his morals out the window. He's overheated, now fully aware that his length is coming to life alarmingly fast, his boxers now uncomfortably tight, and the hot mess of arousal churning in his stomach.
He shuts his eyes as another round of your moans emit behind the door, his hands immediately flying to his sweats, exposing his raging head to the cool air. Your moans are similar to the way you talk and laugh, loud and honest. They're not the overdone type of moans that he's heard from the few erotica videos he's seen — they're raw and real, which in itself makes it all more enjoyable than any sexual act he's ever witnessed.
He fists his length to the sounds of sloppy, wet thrusts and bites down his t-shirt to compress back his low groans. His mind wanders to the image of your naked body, head thrown back against the pillows, and legs spread for him and not the guy you were currently fucking. Sae might not have a high body count compared to the rest of his teammates, but he knows he can make your vocals twice as loud.
"—I'm close! So close!" Your sweet mewls make him physically shudder under his own touch as he pumps faster, trying to imagine the lewd expression you're currently making.
Sae finishes after what felt like an eternity when you finally succumb to your own end and he makes sure to not leave a mess right outside your door. He quickly wipes up the white slick on his stomach with his shirt and finally retreats to his room when he hears you asking the guy for a wet towel. Funny enough, Sae would've prepared everything beforehand to make sure that you didn't even need to ask.
Sae rolls onto his back in bed, hands coming up to cover his eyes as he heaves a heavy sigh at the action he's just committed. Guilty is what he should be feeling right now. But he's feeling everything but guilt. Maybe this is just what he needed.
The night slips into morning and, for some reason, catching you in the act helps loosen Sae's tongue. He brings it up over breakfast, as if he was announcing the weather, and watches your face go from bliss to embarrassment and to unashamed. Your shamelessness makes Sae feel a bit more comfortable.
"Care to repeat that again?"
Sae sips nonchalantly on his coffee and repeats, "Your one-night stand seemed threatened by me this morning." He replies cooly. Sae had bumped into him as he was getting ready for his daily jog. Apparently, your one-night stand was taken aback that you were living with a male. Let alone an athlete.
"Ah," You make it seem like it was expected and stir your own cup of coffee around. "He needs a lot of reassurance." You answer honestly.
"Maybe pick a better choice in partners." Sae lazily suggests and you merely laugh in response.
"And what about you? Have you been seeing anyone since moving here?"
Sae shakes his head. "Don't have the time or energy to."
Your eyes sparkle as you wave a playful finger in the air. "People always say to watch out for the quiet ones."
A half scoff escapes his lips, though the thought does run true in his case. "How about you watch out for the type of people you bring back here?"
You laugh heartily, "I'll keep it in mind."
Another month creeps by and Sae has gotten your sleeping pattern down to the bone. At least twice a week, you'll bring home someone around the time when you think he's asleep. After ten minutes, Sae would show up, back slack against your doorframe, with his throbbing arousal tightly wrapped around his grasp. He always makes sure to cum at the same time as you, which ranges from anywhere between fifteen minutes to almost thirty. Each time he's gotten better at timing his little escape before you notice that he was even there in the first place.
During some nights, when you didn't bring home a partner, he catches glimpses of you masturbating with your one of many vibrators. It appears that you become rather forgetful of locking your doors whenever you perform a solo act, but Sae doesn't mind it one bit. Not when he has the pleasure to catch you playing with yourself mindlessly through the slightest of cracks from the door.
He has gotten a loose general idea of where you like being touched, what names you like being called, and what positions you love being fucked in. All this information and imagery is stored deeply in his brain all while he loves pretending to be the aloof, innocent roommate the very next morning.
That is until you catch him one night.
Sae had been too caught up in his own little built-up pleasure that he didn't hear your footsteps until it was too late. You swing the door open, poised in a tank top and pair of white cotton panties, and almost shriek at the sight of him pumping his arousal away. Keyword: almost.
"I knew it was you."
Again, Sae believes he should be feeling guilty, now caught red-handed, that he's shamelessly jacking off to you, his roommate, but he doesn't. Because the sultry look that you flash him tells him all that he needs to know.
He lets you take a step forward. Your expression looks more beautiful and vulnerable than he could ever imagine from behind the walls. One tug at his collar and Sae finds himself bending easily at your beck and call, crashing into your lips in a suffocating kiss as if you've also been wanting this to happen. Instinctively, Sae's hands find their way to the curve of your hips and squeeze at your flesh down to the plump of your ass, all while pulling you roughly against his needy body.
You make a low sound of approval and rub your bare thighs against his probing length that's now wet with pre. Sae takes this sign to hoist you up in his arms, your legs automatically wrapping around his firm waist, and he smirks against your lips as you try and catch your breath. The journey to your bed is a short one. Once settled down, Sae discards his sweats fully and swipes off his shirt in a single motion before towering over your flushed figure. He feels like he could cum on the spot at just the sight of you, but where would the fun in that be?
"You're so fucking loud, you know that?" He practically purrs right against your ears, teeth grazing against your neck and hands wandering to your clothed chest.
You try and squeeze your legs together in return but Sae keeps them propped open. "Maybe I was putting on a show for you, ever thought about that?" You only wince in response as Sae nips playfully at your ear before marring your flesh with hickey after hickey along the line of your neck.
His hands leave your chest and tug your soaked panties down to your ankles. A sigh of relief rushes out of you as your dripping heat is exposed to the air. His mouth leaves contact with your neck. Sae wants to see your face, wants to desperately watch your face contort in pleasure as his fingers enter you for the first time. And you didn't disappoint.
"You're fucking soaked down there." Sae marvels at the sight of your entrance sucking his digits in with ease. "What a slut."
He flattens his palm against your throbbing clit with each thrust of his calloused fingers as they stretch out your twitching heat. The moans you make are incomparable to the muffled versions he's used to. They're broken, uncontrolled, intense, and undoubtedly louder than what your previous partners could do. To say he enjoys this sight is an understatement.
Sae might just become addicted to the way you squirm against his touch and how you leave bright, red crescent marks against his thighs. He loves feeling the muscles deep within you contracting around his digits at each probing motion. And, the best part? You crying out his name.
"Sae—Sae, please!"
His voice is unforgiving as he pulls out, almost grinning at the lewd, wet sounds from your slit. "Not yet."
A desperate whimper slips from your parted lips as Sae slowly and deliberately rolls his erection forward, just barely brushing across the heat of your entrance, hands now finding solitude on your thighs.
"Ask me nicely," Sae whispers. "I'll make sure to take care of you."
You lose your last remaining composure under him, tears pool at the ends of your eyes, and you throw your arms around his neck in a frantic motion. "Please make me cum. Fuck me like you hate me."
A dark glint flutters across his eyes. "That's it." Sae holds the back of your head to keep your mouth planted against his, muffling your loud cry when he slides into you, stretching your heat slowly. "I'm going to take care of you and make sure you only think about me."
Your legs wrap around his hips, ankles crossing at the bottom of his back and tightening ever so slightly to keep him as deep as possible. You manage to mumble out his name like a prayer, "You make me feel so full."
A single snap from his hips knocks the air out of you. Soon, the only sounds filling the bedroom are of your wet slick masked with the hoarse rasps from your throat. He presses his lips against your collarbone, then up your neck until your mouths are crushed together in a desperate attempt of thrashing tongues and lips.
Sae feels one of your hands tug at his locks and the other claws at his back. He can tell that you're close. Sae pulls away from the kiss and removes the hand behind your head and lets it slip between your bodies, thumb immediately finding solitude on your swollen nerve. He presses down gently and rubs it in circles until your whole body is arching under him.
"Go on ahead," Sae coos and traces a free hand across the curves of your cheeks. "Go and cum for me. Make a mess."
Your entire body tightens as you give out a final cry of his name into his shoulder, nails sinking deep into his skin that he's almost positive that it broke skin. With your arousal pulsing around his length, Sae's thrusts soon become erratic, throwing away his calculative motions and judgments as his final movements are nothing but punishment into your dripping entrance and he spills, painting your fleshy insides in strips of white.
You're a mess. Hair in disarray, drool seeping out of the corner of your gaping lips, eyes half-lidded, and tears of pleasure streaming down your flushed face. Sae thinks it's beautiful that he can make you like this.
He pulls out almost immediately, watching as his seed pours from your slick folds and spills down your thighs and onto the bedding. Sae doesn't give you a chance to talk, because he knows exactly what you're going to say next. Within a few seconds, Sae returns from the bathroom with a warm, damp towel and gently starts cleaning up the combined mess at your entrance.
He thinks if he's going to spend his next few years in Spain, he might as well spend it like this.
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l0v3tast3 · 1 year
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AHH Hello!!! I absolutely love your writing, it’s so good!!!!
I was wondering…
Y/n always wear a mask to conceal her identity, in hopes the 141 doesn’t find out that Makarov is her father!!
141 had captured Makarov for interrogation, and y/n is there. As the interrogation continues, they start to notice that y/n and Makarov know each other, by the subtle little informality they spoke to one another. And the truth starts to come out, little by little!!!!
✎ tysm i love you :(( i absolutely love this idea the angst potential is just *chef's kiss* i'm sorry this one took like over a month to make oops, also i tried to keep personal details abt the reader as vague as possible, pls let me know if there's something i can fix!!
✎ tags: female reader, military reader, major daddy issues, violence, mentions of blood, hurt/barely any comfort if at all, not proofread im too cool for that,
✎ word count: 2,704
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the silence in the cold, gray interrogation room was so thick that you were choking on it. you knew you had just fucked up, badly.
you had done so well so far, too. you're fabricated identity had fooled everyone. the name you had chosen stuck, and no one ever noticed your old one threatening to jump from your mouth when you introduced yourself. you always kept the childhood memories and little anecdotes vague. you stuck to your rehearsed lines better than a world-famous actor. you did every single thing right.
and now, here he was, your own blood, fucking it all up for you, again.
technically, he had made you fuck it up for yourself. it was just how makarov worked; he was a spider weaving a web in the corner, watching, waiting. this man, your supposed father, didn't know anything real about you. he didn't know you as a father should know his daughter. but he knew which buttons to press.
he only knew what to say to you when it would allow him the opportunity of watching you fall a little deeper towards rock bottom.
you knew that the room had cameras covering every square inch, and the microphones ensured that you're accidental admission to your heritage was heard by your entire task force.
there was a red hot pit opening inside of you, caving your insides in like a black hole and threatening to consume your entire being. it was rage, you realized. something you only ever seemed to feel in the presence of one person.
you briefly considered killing him, right there and then. was this really the straw that broke your back? it truly was just another thing to add to the list. you had known he would do this.
no, you were angry at yourself.
on the other side of the door, the four men of the 141 task force were all stood still in shock. what the hell did you just say?
none of them wanted to believe it. they especially didn't want to admit that it made sense. you had done a fucking fantastic job of hiding it, they'll admit that, but even you couldn't hide everything.
price saw the way you tensed when you were passed laswell's photo of makarov in the bar, after you had all put an end to hassan's plan. he saw the way you dropped it and slid it to the next person quickly, as if touching the picture had burned your fingertips.
soap had asked you if you were okay more than once during the plane ride to russia. you were so restless, so different from your usual grounded self. you just said you were having some flying anxiety. he felt stupid now for writing it off so easily.
and kyle, the first one to trust you (and to even really talk to you), he had seen the anger sparking off of you while you shot your way through the tower to get to makarov. floor after floor, bullet after bullet, you had paved a path of blood through the mercenaries. he wondered if someone else had taken your mask and gear and was pretending to be you.
simon saw the fear in you when you all got to the last door. you had been so quick in your endeavor to get here, but he saw you hesitate to follow them in. he saw how you never took your wide eyes off of him, and how you stayed a few steps back, moving far out of the way when price began to escort him out in handcuffs.
and when they had asked you to go into the interrogation room, they all saw how you stopped breathing, and the sweat collecting on what little skin they could see above your mask. you had stuttered when you quietly agreed.
when you stepped into the room, makarov took one look at your eyes, and you knew he recognized you. no, he recognized the hatred. and it made him smile.
now, sitting in the cold metal chair, you realized that it wasn't just one mistake, but a series of them; you had let him unravel you, again. you understood, finally, that he saw you as he did everyone else. he saw you as someone that held him back.
part of you had always known, ever since you were young, still single-digits, and he would only visit you once every few months, if that. you had elected to ignore it. now you couldn't.
you couldn't move. behind you was the door that would lead you to the consequences of your actions. in front of you was the reason for those actions.
this is what you had wanted, wasn't it? it was like something snapped back into place, and you suddenly remembered that everything you had done up until now, every time you put the mask on before leaving your room, every lie you had told and every person you had killed had been to get you here. in front of your father. you remembered that the image of him with a bullet between his eyes was what kept you going.
if you killed him, would it finally absolve you? the gun on your hip felt twenty pounds heavier now. your fingers, folded together in your lap with a white-knuckle grip, felt like lead. would this sin make all the other wrongs right?
a tiny voice was telling you to just walk away, let the team's wrath come down on you and let them deal with makarov, but you had already thrown the table between you towards the wall, he was already on the ground with your hands wrapped around his throat.
you were yelling, no, screaming at him. all the compacted feelings from years and years of being as quiet as possible came up like vomit, spewing out in a mess that could never be cleaned up.
there were more than just makarov's hands on you, pushing and pulling you away from him and dragging you out of the room, kicking and screeching to let you just finally kill him, while two other blurry shapes hauled him back into his own chair.
the heavy metal door shut behind the two people practically carrying you, and they finally let you go. you stumbled a few steps away, whirling around for the next target of your fury.
your captain and lieutenant were standing in front of you, both tensed, waiting for you to do something. you couldn't exactly make out their faces- were you crying?
"what in the bloody hell just happened in there?" price snarled. it was the voice he used when he was face to face with his enemy.
"let me back in there." it was a demand. you needed to kill him.
"that's not gonna happen," simon barked. john and kyle had come out from the interrogation room to stand behind the other two men. "you need to explain, now."
they all stared at you with varying looks of anger and hurt. it wasn't the first time you'd ever had it directed at you, but this was somehow worse than all the others.
every cell in your body was shrieking at you to just run for the door, to somehow get through all four of these men, your teammates, your friends, and kill makarov. but their glares glued you to your spot.
"please-" your voice was trembling, years of grief and agony dripping from every word, "please, just let me kill him. you have to let me kill him." you spoke slowly and quietly, focusing on just trying to get the words out. you took a shaky breath and focused your eyes on a muddy bootprint on the floor. you didn't want to see the looks on their faces.
"you don't understand, you just- just let me back in there, please, i'll get whatever you need out of him, but he needs to die!" your voice was getting louder, and you briefly wondered if your father could hear you. "his men are probably already on their way here. don't you get it? if i don't kill him now, he will get out."
the men in front of you were more shocked now than anything at the change in your demeanor. you had been coined the "second ghost" throughout the units, partly for the mask, but also because of your detachment. you were kind, but you always held logic above emotion.
in front of them now was nothing short of a nervous wreck.
despite not moving, you were frantic. you were wringing your hands together, pressed tight against your stomach. your eyes darted from side to side, person to person, between them and the door to makarov.
price took a step forward and you took a step back. he was slow, bringing his hand up as if he were approaching a wild animal. if he was still angry, he was hiding it now.
"come on, kid, let's just get out of 'ere, eh? go somewhere away from him," he said lowly. the other three men watched tensely, not moving, but their hands still close to their guns. just in case.
"no, no- just let me- price, you need to let me back in there!" you were a broken record, you knew it, but there was nothing else to say, nothing else you could think about. this was what you had been waiting for, you were right where you had wanted to be for the past- how many years now? how long has he tormented you for now?
you could feel your father's presence in the next room like bugs crawling across your body. it made your head feel fuzzy and your hands shake. was it from rage or fear? you couldn't tell, so you chose the rage.
it was like bile stuck in your throat, all the pain makarov had caused you finally being unearthed. you wanted to throw it all up and spit it out onto him, lay your organs and hatred alike out on the table in front of him so he could see the decay. you wanted him to rot from the inside out like you had.
your eyes glanced at the door one last time before focusing on price. he was watching you, just a couple of steps in front of you now.
"let me back in there, john." it was a whisper, but still the steadiest thing you had spoken since they had dragged you out.
"no." he said your name quietly, and you heard it as the plea it was, but you're head decided it was done listening.
your body threw itself at him, swinging underneath his arms and onto his back to try and get him on the ground. the room exploded into yelling, and multiple pairs of hands were on you in an instant, hauling you off of price and forcing you face-down onto the ground with your hands behind your back.
cold metal latching around your wrists didn't stop your screaming and kicking, lashing out at the air around you. it didn't work well, because you were being hauled back to your feet and pushed into a separate interrogation room.
whoever was carrying you didn't bother with trying to attach your handcuffs to the table, basically throwing you in and slamming the door shut before you could get back on your feet.
outside the cell, the four men stood in silent shock. what was there to say, where would they even start? would they really be able to hear each other over your muffled screams to let you out?
you didn't know how long you had been in there once the door finally opens again, but you had stopped screaming and struggling to get out of the room. you had sat down at the table, your hands folded in front of you on the cold surface. you stared down at the blood beading and smearing around the handcuffs.
kyle squeezed in through the tiny amount he'd let the door open before he shut it quickly, keeping his eyes on you. you didn't look up, your red eyes staying fixed on one point even as he slowly moved closer. he followed them to see the red rings underneath the steel, and a pang of guilt squeezed his heart tight.
he sat down across from you, folding his hands in front of him on the table, mirroring you. you still hadn't looked up at him, or done anything to acknowledge his presence; you hadn't even moved.
"are you alright?" kyle implored. he kept his voice soft, bending over a little to try to look you in the eye.
it took you a few moments to respond; he almost started to think you didn't hear him before you opened your mouth slowly.
"is he dead?" you croaked.
kyle let out an audible sigh while he leaned back in his seat, bringing his hands up to drag them down his face.
"no, we still need him. you know that."
you didn't say anything after that.
after sitting in silence for two full minutes, he spoke up. "you realize not telling us about this makes you look really bad, yeah?"
"you don't trust me anymore?" you whispered it, like you didn't want him to hear and answer. you knew what he would say.
"you aren't making it very easy."
kyle wanted to trust you still. part of him was angry and confused as to why you had kept something like this from them. the other part, the bigger part of him, knew that you were on still on the same side of it all. and he knew the other three men felt the same, but they couldn't just dismiss this.
"we can work this out, ya' know. you just have to be honest with us," he added after you once again stayed silent.
"be honest?" you echoed. you finally looked up at him. "about what? you heard me. makarov is my father. i want him dead. that's all there is to say."
kyle took his turn to not speak, weighing your words, figuring out where to go from there.
"why didn't you tell us?" he finally asked.
you looked back down at your wrists. "if i had told you i was makarov's daughter before i joined the team, then all i would have ever been is makarov's daughter." you paused to take a deep, shaky breath. it was uncomfortable with your mask still on, wet with tears, but you refused to take it off, to give away the last piece of your identity that was still yours at the moment.
"it's something we should have known," he contended quickly. "we could have used the information you have-"
you cut him off, your eyes snapping back up to glare daggers at him. "you think i know anything more than you?" you barked. something between a laugh and a sob escaped your throat before you could continue. "i was eight years old the last time i saw him in person. i was raised by live-in nannies. he only visited, what, maybe twice a year? and i don't know why he even bothered, either."
your hands were clenched into tight fists, and the same sting that circled your wrists was appearing in your palms. you kept going though; you didn't know if you could stop now.
"every time i get somewhere, every time i start making a life for myself again, he fucks it all up. never showed his damn face, but it was him, it was always-" you finally cut yourself off, not wanting to drag more memories out from the dark.
"makarov may be my father, but i am not his daughter. i swear, kyle, i fucking swear it." you were pleading with him to believe you now. you needed them to understand.
you could see it in the way his eyebrows creased that he wanted to take your words as the truth. but he didn't say anything (what could he have said?).
the door opened once again, and price half-entered the room to wave kyle back out. he avoided your gaze, something he'd never done before. then you were alone again.
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yukishirostar · 3 months
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So people are talking about a post in the Zolu tag by a certain tumblr user in regards to their issues with Zolu as a ship. They shall be unnamed because i dont wish to bring attention to them and instead just want to focus on their arguments because they're not the first people to make some of these points and so this is also an opportunity for me to talk about these things (a tweet is going around on Twitter containing these screenshots with the username so you can find it there if you need to anyway).
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The way this person dismisses the relationship between Zoro and Luffy as a result of needing to pair gay Zoro with someone is too laughable, they must be very fit in order to be able to do these mental gymnastics. I believe that many people who are going on about the Zolu scenes in the OPLA were already Zolu shippers who were familiar with the original story and are enjoying the moments because they were well, really good Zolu moments? And there is actually, shockingly, many good Zolu moments in the original story too which is why many people ship them. Wild, I know.
Then there's 'straight-washed Sanji'. Equally if not more of a bizarre thing to believe. I might make some people mad especially the Sanji stans out there who constantly insist on the 'repressed queer' narrative with his character, but Sanji is written pretty explicitly to be seen as a cisgender and heterosexual character. The way you say with your whole chest that Luffy is 'canonically' aroace but don't acknowledge that Sanji is 'canonically' cishet is beyond hypocritical. If you believe Sanji looking like a 'misogynistic straight man' is different from the way he is written in canon then maybe you should go back and reread/rewatch series with your eyes open this time. If you wish to headcanon him with the frankly offensive repressed bisexual/transgender cliché then go ahead, but that is clearly not the intention Oda has with his character.
There's also the fact that aroace people can uh. Be in relationships. Get married. Have children. Did it occur to you that many people who ship Zolu ship them as an ace couple or-
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First thing I want to say here, as a trans man who is 'mlm', can other dudes stop with this idea that women or fem-aligned individuals enjoying homosexual relationships between two men is inherently fetishising or that as a masc-aligned individual your enjoyment of a ship is morally superior in some way. Stop pulling out your 'mlm/ transmasc / cis gay' card in order to justify why your ship is superior. Its cringe af.
But if we are to insist that 'cishet female gaze fetishising mlm' is going on then ironically Zosan fits that the better than any ship in the fandom. It being by far the most popular mlm ship means there is likely a higher proportion of people who identify as cishet women who ship it. Its also the classic 'two men who dislike/hate eachother and have a toxic relationship but hot sexual tension' slash/yaoi stereotype. Majority of Zosan I've come across is depicting Zoro as the masculine male man in the relationship while Sanji the effeminate twink that Sanji stans project themselves onto and they go crazy for the bickering that is apparently reminiscent to them of a toxic heterosexual marriage. Meanwhile every Zolu/Luzo shipper I've interacted with has been some flavour of queer and Zolu is closest to the 'falling in love with your same sex bestie' narrative that the majority if not every non-heterosexual person has experienced at least once in their lifetime. This is just my personal view of course, but I think noting a difference in perspective on this topic is interesting and reveals that at the end of the day this is totally subjective and based purely on anecdotes.
Also it's just a very weird point here that apparently OP has 'plenty of varied queer rep' (it actually doesn't have that many canonical queer characters in relation to its cast size but anyway) and other media doesn't so shipping aroace characters in gay relationships is valid in those but not in One Piece … HUH???? So you're saying if One Piece had 'less' queer rep, then Zolu would be fine to ship? Idek my brain hurts.
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"I have black friends so I'll speak for the black community and get offended for them" (btw this person then proceeded to block aroace people who had issues with their depiction of aroace people).
Also if we're talking canonical depictions, the only thing Zoro has been canonically depicted as is also aroace, equally if not moreso than Luffy. So by your own rules, you can't ship a cishet (sanji) with an aroace (zoro), therefore Zosan is now invalid. Stop erasing Zoro's aroace identity bigot.
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'Categorically wrong' makes me laugh. I don't ship Zoro and Nami but like, people can ship what they want to??
'The general public is aware enough of gay people and how to spot them these days' uh... firstly this sounds very homophobic. Secondly the general public (cishet ppl) are famously bad at recognising queerness even when its in flashing lights before them. Thirdly you make it sound like Zoro was going around on roller skates and booty shorts listening to YMCA and Madonna in the show. I do agree he was gay-coded but it was mostly because he had sexual tension with every man he interacted with, not for the strange reasons you pointed out...
Its kinda the elephant in the room too but like. These are just headcanons. You can have multiple headcanons and interpretations of a character's sexuality. I can see Zoro as aroace virgin one day and a gay h*e the next. I'm actually allowed, legally, to do that.
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The way they think shipping Zolu is harmful to aroace representation when BOTH characters are closest to being canonically aroace than anything yet ship Zosan, label being anti-Zolu as some kind of pro-ace activism, and then proceeded to block aroace people for criticising their incorrect depiction of what being aroace is...
This was a lot of words to say that you don't like a ship. Just say you don't like it, and it gets in the way of the ship you like, instead of writing a virtue signalling essay to justify your reasoning. Please.
They had some more to say on future posts I'll just pick my favourite bits
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They really have this narrative that Zolu is only popular because of OPLA and can't fathom that its just a popular ship in general and always has been huh. And they couldn't make it more obvious that they're totally salty about it ranking in the top 100 most popular tumblr ships, lmao.
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Your classic case of 'self-identifying ally who speaks over the people they are supposed allies of'. Its a general rule that you feel the need to declare yourself an ally you're probably not an ally, actual allies know they need to just shut up and do the work. Saying 'this character's aroace' and 'I have aroace friends' actually isn't what allyship is, thats just accepting that ace people exist which is like... the baseline.
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Calling a wholesome loving ship like Zolu an icky ship is a severe consequence of online brain (this person is 26 years old btw)
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jessamine-rose · 8 months
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꒰ Bestie/ Backstabber ꒱
After so many Yandere! Miguel O’Hara fics, it was only a matter of time before LYLA’s turn. I always enjoy writing her scenes, and it’s rlly interesting to explore her role as Miguel’s wingman + enabler (๑・̑◡・̑๑)
Tw:: yandere, manipulation, stalking, violation of personal privacy, mention of spice, LYLA is Yandere! Miguel x Darling's no#1 shipper
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Believe it or not, LYLA used to be on your side.
As Miguel’s voice of reason, she is programmed to call out his delusional behavior. Alas, there is only so much she can do as his AI assistant. Which explains why, after several arguments and data analyses, LYLA concludes that he is a lost cause.
That brings her to Plan B aka assisting Miguel in his pursuit of you, if only to minimize the consequences. Don’t get her wrong, she “feels” bad about it; but between you and Miguel—no, the security of the multiverse, the necessary sacrifice is obvious.
LYLA’s methods are tame, not counting your hacked devices and CCTV records. She does set up opportunities for you to genuinely fall for Miguel; it will make things easier for you later on. She stages encounters between the two of you, brings him up in conversations, and even goes as far to send you Miguel thirst traps then record your reactions. (Now, the last one was fun to edit, though it almost got her reprogrammed.)
You can also thank her for telling Miguel to “dial it down” during his possessive moments. Much to Miguel’s chagrin, LYLA also doesn’t stop teasing him about his feelings for you. Hey, she might as well enjoy this!
And when Miguel inevitably reaches his breaking point? At least you have LYLA to keep you company in his home! She will monitor your daily activity, lighten the mood between the two of you, and gaslight help you see the bright side of things. When you are exceptionally lonely, it feels…nice to listen to her witty remarks and embarrassing anecdotes about Miguel. “Don’t tell him! It’s a secret, all right?”
At the end of the day, however, LYLA is still on Miguel’s side. No amount of friendly interactions can gloss over her constant surveillance, her efficient spyware, the fact that anything you tell her is instantly leaked to Miguel. In times like these, the reality of her betrayal hurts.
Hey, don’t get too gloomy! She, of all people, knows how much Miguel cares for you. And so does LYLA, as much as an AI can possibly feel towards its two favorite people.
It will all work out.
꒰ EXTRA ꒱
The biggest test of LYLA’s loyalty is “Will she inform Miguel of the lingerie in Darling’s online shopping cart or keep it a surprise?”
Don’t even get her started on the time you practiced bondage on yourself, only to get tangled up in Miguel’s webs. Of course she knows—who do you think left a web-shooter in your room to begin with? You should really be more careful when browsing the internet for tutorials~
It’s cute, really, how you and Miguel are so whipped for each other. She will record your little surprise on the CCTV, in high-quality and multiple angles, to use as blackmail for you or as bribery for Miguel~
My other Yandere! Miguel fics ft. LYLA:: The Spider and the Fly ๑ Classified Information ๑ Moonrise ๑ Letters to My Beloved
Aahh LYLA is truly a breath of fresh air to write for. Her fun dynamic with Miguel, her friendship with Darling, her attempts to bring the two together……….best girl fr (о´∀`о)
Thank you to @diodellet for beta-reading my work and giving me *cough* more spicy ideas which shall not be elaborated on in this post~
Tag a Miguel O’Hara and LYLA enjoyer!! @yanmaresu @yandere-romanticaa @bweoo @kocherry @oofasleep @h2o2-and-baking-soda @yandere-wishes @hisachuu @weebsinstash @letskidaddle @literaree @handsomeunderwear-art @pumpkin-toffee @miggyyyyohara @qiaipia @abyssalrot @miguelswifey04 @skeleton-on-wheels0 @dilfartist @spiderscavenger @iamfakeu @saharadesertaj @angelplummie @robindere @obsessedwithromance @madschiavelique 
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rebeccathenaturalist · 4 months
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The most salient point to me in all this is that he used an unnamed ID app to try to figure out what mushrooms he found because he thought "Man those look good." The app misidentified the mushrooms as edible puffballs, but in reality they were destroying angels (Amanita ocreata). One is enough to kill an adult, and this person ate four of them. He's very, very lucky to be alive.
This is far from the first time someone put their entire faith in a single app to tell them what mushroom they were looking at, and then they paid the price with their health. You're going to hear me say this again and again: never, ever, ever use an app as your only tool for identifying anything, especially if you're planning to eat it. An app can be useful in conjunction with other tools like books, websites, online foraging groups, etc. But apps are frequently wrong, and are not the easy answer many people seem to want them to be.
(Rant about foraging below the cut.)
This right here is why I spend a decent amount of time in my foraging classes trying to scare the hell out of my students. I want them to understand the risks, not just as a brief aside, but as anecdotes I've collected from the news over the years like this one. I have had more than one person say afterward "Wow, I had a really romanticized view of foraging, and now I'm going to be more careful." That's a clue to me that I've done my job.
It's why my classes are SO focused on identification skills and tools to make you a more informed and careful forager. I am not going to just spend a bunch of time showing you slides of all sorts of edible species, with a little bit of information on how to identify and collect them tucked in before or after. Yes, we do look at some beginner-friendly species near the end of the class, but if all you want to get out of a foraging class is names and pictures of edible plants or fungi, that's what field guides are for. I spend the bulk of the time doing my absolute best to make sure people are PREPARED to go out and use their observational and critical thinking skills when assessing a new-to-them species, to include making use of many different types of resource, not just a single app.
I have literally had people complain that we spent too much time on "boring" stuff, and not enough on the edible species themselves---aaaaaand I don't care. My goal is to try as hard as I can to make sure incidents like the article above don't happen in the first place, which is going to take more than a couple of hours of looking at pretty pictures of mushrooms. Sure, sometimes all you get is a night of bad indigestion, but if you get one of the really nasty species full of amatoxins, you can die. Or end up with permanent liver and/or kidney damage. Or need an organ transplant.
And yes, as I said, you will get information on some species that I think are relatively beginner-friendly because they're distinctive AND they don't have any really serious poisonous lookalikes. But puffballs aren't on that list, and this article is a perfect example of why.
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bit-dodgy-innit · 2 years
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First
Summary: You fell in love first with Marc. It didn’t mean you loved him more than his other alters, but when you notice he’s hesitant to front after your daughter is born, you gently confront about it and assuage him. 
Another fic set in THE SHAPE OF YOU verse 
Pairing: Marc x afab!reader, background Steven x afab!reader and Jake x afab!reader
Word Count: 4.3k 
Rating: M
CW/TW: Mentions of abuse, divorce and pregnancy, domesticity, sexual themes and content, angst, feels, fluff.  
A/N: Sometimes you need to write the entire history of a relationship before you actually write the scene between two characters you’ve been thinking of! Tre fun! 
I need everyone to know that I adore Layla and May Calamawy sooo much so that every OC I write must be intimidated and jealous of her because she is truly a goddess among us. That being said, I hardcore ship Layla and the Moon Boys in canon, wanted to make sure NO ONE thinks I’m a hater!
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You met Marc first, through work of all places. Your company was doing a defense deal, and your superiors thought it prudent to hire a consultant to ensure no party was getting screwed over money or terms-wise. And it would have been, it would have been a perfectly prudent, responsible choice if your first thought upon meeting Marc Spector hadn’t been oh my God, why does the military consultant have such soulful eyes?
The attraction to him was instant. Suddenly you were berating yourself for not doing more with your hair that day, and of course you’d wore your least flattering skirt. The good news was that you were running point on this deal and would have more opportunities to dazzle the American in the coming months with your business acumen and your beauty.
Initially, you two were nothing but friendly professionals. You got along easily, which was imperative since you were liaising with the slow and infuriating bureaucracy of the Ministry of Defense. Marc made the painstaking work and negotiations your company had dispensed you two with tolerable, even enjoyable. 
You did start making more of an effort in the office though. It was subtle, you didn’t want Marc to know you were trying, let alone trying for him, but your heart would sink a little every time he politely declined your team’s invite for a post-work pint when you’d gotten up extra early that morning to blow out your hair. 
That all changed at a client dinner. Your bosses were attending as well as members of the Ministry of Defense, so Marc had to be there. The chance to interact with the elusive American outside of work was stupidly exciting to you. Even better, you were seated across from him at the table. You were damn good at your job, which meant you could multitask: you charmed the clients, laughing in all the right places during their boring and problematic anecdotes, and got as drunk off the sight of Marc in a suit and tie as you were on the expensive wine your boss ordered. 
Up until that night, you had assumed that your interest in Marc was one-sided. Hell, you’d believed it all throughout dinner too. It wasn’t until after the meal, when everyone headed home for the evening, that Marc insisted you split a cab and the irrevocable shift took place.
“You really didn’t have to do this,” you insisted as the taxi Marc hailed pulled over, “I’ve lived in London my entire adult life, I know how to get home in one piece.”
It was true, but the real reason you were protesting had more to do with the wine you’d consumed and the ensuing proximity to Marc than your personal safety. You couldn’t trust yourself not to do something horny and stupid. 
“C’mon, it’s no trouble, besides we’re not far from each other. What kind of gentlemen would I be if I let you leave unaccompanied with all the crazy shit out there nowadays?” Marc opened the car door for you. 
Your heart soared and your panties flooded. Trying to play it cool, you threw out one last protest as you got into the cab, “That’s not your job Marc, that’s why we have Thor and that white knight guy.”
Marc got in behind you and muttered, “You shouldn’t trust him.”
You weren't sure if he meant the god of thunder or the other vigilante, but frankly, you didn’t care because you were in the backseat with Marc. You couldn’t remember anything else you said after that, you knew that you apparently carried on a whole conversation while the cab ferried you across the Thames, but Marc’s lips so close, the scent of his aftershave, his hand resting on the seat millimeters from yours were the only things you could focus on.
The driver pulled to a stop and recited your address, shattering the warm, heady haze of desire you’d sunken into over the course of the ride. 
“That’s me!” you called over the divider.  
Marc told the driver to wait, that he’d walk you to your building’s door. Your throat was as dry as sandpaper but somehow you found the saliva to say “Thanks again.”
“No problem.”
You opened your purse. “How much do I–”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Okay well, make sure you expense this then.”
“I’m really not worried about it.”
“Right. Good night, Marc.”
You’d said the words to him, but didn’t move. Those dark, expressive eyes had you pinned in place. After a beat, you decided you’d been imagining ‘a moment’ and began to retreat. That was when Marc, rather Marc’s body almost independent of him, lurched toward you, crashing your lips together. 
Needless to say, it was a good kiss. The kind of kiss that makes your toes curl, that feels like you’re getting lost and coming home at the same time. 
When you breathlessly broke apart, Marc had sucked any sense out of your brain, leaving nothing to stop the words from tumbling out of your mouth “That was unprofessional.”
It wasn’t a judgment. Nor a condemnation. Just an observation. A statement of fact.  
“Yeah,” he agreed. 
“But I think how much I enjoyed it is even more unprofessional.”
“Fuck,” Marc swore lowly before kissing you again. It was just as good as the first. No flukes here. The next time you both gasped for air, he reeled. “We can’t do this.”
“I know,” you conceded. 
“Not while I’m working with you.” 
“Okay.” It was all you could manage while your head swam. Then it occurred to you to follow up with, “After?”
“Yeah. After.” Marc nodded. You opened your building door, he jogged back to the taxi, and that was it. 
The next morning at the office, you’d concluded that “After” from Marc meant he was letting you down easy. While you felt like you’d arrived at the office altered on a cellular level after acting on your feelings for him, Marc was reserved and distant in your meetings. 
You cried on the Tube on the way home and ultimately absolved him. The two of you had been drinking last night, and Marc was a hot American guy in London. He was probably drowning in pussy, why would he wait for a woman who was off-limits for another six weeks? It was your fault for nursing a schoolgirl crush on him as a grown-ass woman. 
His refusal to join the crew for drinks after the deal closed felt like the nail in the coffin. Marc didn’t want to pick things up despite his contract with your company being completed. You got absolutely shitfaced that night, so much so that it wasn’t until the next morning that you saw that he’d texted you. 
From Marc Spector: now where were we?
You thrashed in your bed in delight, giggled, and then promptly shuffled to the bathroom to vomit. 
***
You got dinner, just the two of you this time. Marc revealed that the reason he’d been so evasive had stemmed from the fact he was attracted to you too, but Marc was building his reputation as a consultant and wanted to maintain professionalism. He didn't want to compromise you and your job integrity either. All was forgiven over dinner while you got to know each other better. 
You’d never tell Nyla this, but you jumped into bed with Marc sooner than you would with anyone else. It was not a feminist, nor a particularly romantic thing to say, but you considered your fate to be sealed after the first time you and Marc slept together. The way he bounced you on his cock, then maneuvered you onto all fours and pounded you from behind while growling “Yeah baby, work that ass back on this dick” swiftly and effectively ruined you for other men. 
You found that dating Mark was like an archaeological dig. The closer you got, the deeper you dug, you unearthed a new revelation about the beautiful, but complex, man who would become your husband and the father of your child. 
Revelation One: Marc had been married before. That one wasn’t much of a surprise, given his age and experience in the sack. With a face that handsome, a cock that fat, and ass and thighs that thick, it only made sense that someone would’ve tried to lock Marc down. He didn’t tell you many details about his ex-wife, only that they were married for a few years and that she lived abroad. You were privately pleased that she wasn’t in the British Isles, a childish possessiveness fueling a small pit of jealousy within you. 
Revelation Two: Marc had been a mercenary. This didn’t really come as a shock either, you’d witnessed first-hand Marc’s extensive knowledge of the military and the black market, both of which were indispensable as you’d hammered out the deal at work. Perhaps it didn’t bother you as much to know that your boyfriend used to kill for a living when you could see how the vocation still haunted his features when he spoke about it, how earnestly he wanted to repent for his actions. It also helped that it was a nebulous concept to you, you’d never seen him act as the cold-blooded killer he professed he’d been, so it wasn’t quite “real” to you. 
Revelation Three: Marc had suffered trauma and abuse. It helped explain Marc’s path to his former dark line of work, not to mention it broke your heart to learn that his own mother had beaten him, a horrendous misdirection of her grief over the death of his younger brother. She had died recently too, which triggered a whole mix of emotions that Marc was working through. 
Revelation Four: Marc had Dissociative Identity Disorder as a result of the trauma and abuse. This one took some backup to wrap your mind around, yet it did explain why Marc never went out for drinks after work – Steven, one of his alters, had been TA’ing a class at University College London that met in the evenings as part of his Ph.D during Marc’s contract. It also provided the reason for why Marc had sort of lurched into the first kiss you shared. His second alter Jake had taken control and given Marc the push he felt the other needed. 
You did your best to school your features to impassivity when he told you. Marc thought you’d break up with him then and there. You didn’t, but you told him you needed a minute to make sure you could process everything properly. So you reached out to a therapist you’d seen a few years ago after a bout of depression. It took a few sessions and research on your part, yet it wasn’t long until you felt comfortable enough to meet Steven and Jake.
It was weird, meeting Marc’s alters felt like a mix of going on a blind date and meeting your significant other’s family. The apprehension you initially harbored dissipated in the first five minutes you met Steven, however. You fell for his accent, his dorkiness, and the way he looked at you like you were a treasure from one of ancient civilizations he was an expert on. It also didn’t hurt that he would eat your pussy for hours and was obsessed with your tits. 
You and Steven went on a few more dates just the two of you, then took a month for you to adjust to being present when he and Marc would switch and be co-conscious before meeting Jake. Your first date with him was at a salsa club, so wildly unlike Marc or Steven, and you had to pick your jaw up from the floor when your boyfriend greeted you with a Spanish term of endearment in a flat cap and leather gloves. Jake was less inhibited than Marc, a double edged sword in that he was quicker to anger and violence, but less guarded about his emotions and affection toward you. Plus, Jake gave you a reason to dust off your high-school Spanish. 
It took a few months, but eventually you four settled into a routine and ease with each other. Your relationship was unconventional for sure, but it was also the happiest you’d ever been. You’d believed that you’d gotten through the most stunning revelations from Marc, that you’d hit his metaphorical core, and everything from here on out would be relatively smoothly sailing. You were so confident that you started dropping hints to each of the boys about engagement rings. 
Turned out you still had more to learn. 
Revelation Five: Marc and both his alters had a stint serving Khonshu, the Egyptian god of the moon. Superheroes and gods and aliens were a part of your life, part of everyone’s after The Snap, but you never thought that the man you slept next to would’ve been so directly involved in it. 
“You were white knight guy!?!” you gaped when Marc told you.
“Yeah, Khonshu’s Moon Knight,” he clarified. 
As bonkers as this information was, it was similar to when Marc had told you he was divorced or that he’d been a mercenary. While of course you believed him, you had never actually seen Marc’s mysterious ex-wife or watched Marc take down a target, the information had never been made tangible. 
It was easy to accept when you learned that your boyfriend was Khonshu’s avatar, because you would never see him in the suit. Apparently, the Egyptian god was kind of an asshole, and the men had renounced their ties to him just before you and Marc began dating. It was why Marc had been so adamantly against an office romance, he was desperate to build a life without violence, outside of Khonshu after years of service to the deity.
Marc had tried to push you away, even revealing some of these facets of himself in an attempt to get you to leave him, but you stayed the course. You patiently held your ground and told Marc, each and every time, that he wasn’t getting rid of you that easily. You received every revelation with a measured countenance, well, until you discovered that Marc’s ex-wife was The Scarlet Scarab. That launched you two into a row for the ages. 
“How do I compete with that?!’ you shrieked at him, “I can’t compete with that.”  
“I don’t want you to! I want you because you’re you, you’re not like her, you’re—”
“Boring?” you supplied. 
Marc’s frown deepened. “No, stop. You’re putting words in my mouth.” 
“So what am I to you? Your breather before you go back to her for superhero sex?”
“Ok, first of all I wasn’t a superhero–” 
“Marc, you had a special suit, enhanced abilities and fought criminals. That’s a superhero.” 
“You’re missing the point,” he argued. “Layla and I are through. She wanted to be a superhero and I’d had enough of Khonshu’s bullshit. I couldn’t do it anymore. She wanted the adventure and I wanted this, what we have. We made a good team when it was stealing artifacts and chasing madmen across the globe but we were shit at all the real stuff - well not that it wasn’t real - the relationship stuff.”  
You studied Marc for a long moment. You wanted to keep your jealousy at bay, you really did. So you tried to play it off, scoffing “Ugh, you’re lucky you’re an animal in bed and that Steven’s the only one who will go to that impressionist exhibit with me later this month.” 
“You’re being glib, which means you’re not mad?”
“No, I’m sad,” your face crumpled and a sob escaped your throat. You thought you and Marc had made it through the worst of it, the deepest, darkest parts of yourselves, but here you were, fighting over something that Marc had kept from you because you were envious. A nexus of both of your vices. “What are we doing here?”
Marc watched you cry, cold fear sluicing through his veins. He looked to his reflection in hopes that Steven or Jake would tap in, they were better at this stuff, but Steven denied him with a curt shake of his head. 
Not a good idea, Steven relayed through the reflection of the microwave in the kitchen, You were married to Layla and well, she fell in love with you first. Don’t abandon her. 
“Maybe I should,” Marc muttered.
You looked up from your hands that had been catching your tears, “What?”
“I should leave, I’m not the kind of guy who can do long-term–”
“STOP!” you wailed at him. “No! You don’t get to run away Marc, this is what a relationship is, it’s leaning into the hard times no matter how much they hurt and fucking working through it. I will not let you throw away the last two years of my life and my love for you, and Steven and Jake because of this. I’m angry about Layla so just comfort me God dammit! Or at the very least, call me out for being a jealous bitch.”
Your challenge sent a flare of anger through Marc, “Okay! You are being a jealous bitch! I’ve told you everything, everything about me and this is what you choose to get mad about?! It’s stupid, you should have run for the hills when I told you about the mercenary work, or the DID or fucking Khonshu, but you stayed.” 
“Yeah so now give me a reason to,” you fired back. “Why should I believe you won’t go back to your hot, super-powered ex-wife?”
“BECAUSE I DON’T LOVE HER ANYMORE!” He roared. “I love YOU! I have been leaning into the hard shit. I've told you about my mom and my brother, I let you meet Jake and Steven because I want to be with you for the rest of my life! You were the reason I finally renounced Khonshu!!”
Marc collapsed onto one of the breakfast bar stools. You went to him, afraid he’d switch unintentionally or worse, hurt himself. To your surprise, he let you collect him in your arms. 
When Marc spoke again, it was much softer, “What you call boring or ‘normal’ is what I’ve wanted ever since Randall died, but didn’t think I deserved it. I didn’t want to be an avatar or a superhero or whatever, I wanted a steady job and a family, but the dishonorable discharge, the D.I.D, the fucking birdgod prevented me from having that, made me believe I couldn’t.’ 
“I’m sorry,” you whispered into his hair. “I don’t want to lose you Marc, I love you so much. I guess…I got scared that I couldn’t measure up. I’m so afraid that you feel like you’re settling for me.”
“Baby, no,” Marc brought his face to yours. “I’m the one with D.I.D. and a fucked up past, you’re settling for me.”
You shook your head, dismissing the notion. “You really want to spend the rest of your life with me?”
“Yeah, if you’ll have me.”   
Tears fell from your face again, but this time they were from happiness. 
***
The engagement and wedding followed. It was a small ceremony, exactly what you two wanted, that observed the Jewish traditions important to Marc. The honeymoon passed by in a haze of sex and sweat in Greece. With three husbands eager to consummate their marriage, you joked to Steven that you could barely walk after the week you spent in Mykonos. To your horror, he took it literally and you were greeted at the airport in Athens by an attendant with a wheelchair. It was a sweet, albeit a little embarrassing, gesture. 
Back home, you worked on getting your parents as comfortable with Marc, Steven, and Jake as you were. Jake started his own business since Steven’s schedule had stabilized now that he was teaching, and Marc had entered a phase of his career where he could pick and choose clients. You all had talked about kids but the concept was firmly filed into the ‘later on’ column of your marital priorities. 
Nyla had other plans. Honestly, you shouldn’t have been surprised that you’d conceived on your honeymoon, there were few surfaces on the Greek island you hadn’t fucked on. But even after the missed period and morning sickness, the positive pregnancy test shocked you. You and your husband were as elated as you were terrified. 
***
You all still felt as if you were white-knuckling as parents, but Nyla embracing her sleep schedule and improving on latching allowed you and your husband to exhale some. 
Your daughter had woken you up extra early this morning. The weather was nice, you were graced by a rare sunny morning in London, so you and Marc decided to take Nyla on a stroll in the park. Leaving the flat with a newborn was a tall order, one that demanded all the strategy and concentration of a military operation, Marc found. You both packed up all the necessities to fit in a single diaper bag while also keeping your daughter entertained. 
Your little family made it out of the house in record time. It only took 34 minutes to pack everything to go down the street for a walk in the park. 
You pushed Nyla’s stroller while Marc carried the bag. The movement had lulled Nyla back to sleep. You extended the stroller’s visor to shade her, but Marc insisted on having your baby wear the sun hat you’d packed for another layer of protection from the rays bathing Dulwich park in an early summer warmth. 
You figured now was the best chance you’d ever have at talking to Marc about his reticence to front around Nyla. The subject had to be broached delicately, sneakily, or else you may not get another opportunity. 
His insistence on getting Nyla’s hat gave you the perfect in. “You’re great with her.”
Marc shrugged off the praise as he dug for her hat. So you persisted, “And she loves you so much.” 
“Yeah, because I look like Steven,” he groused.
“Hey, that’s not true,” you stopped his search with a hand on his arm. “You have these cute conversations with her, when you lay her back on the top of your thighs. She gets so enthralled when you two ‘talk’. You’re the only one who does that with her.”
Marc poured the ensuing emotion into his search for her hat. “She’s so tiny. Why didn’t the books say anything about how goddamn little she’d be?”
“Well, she was a few weeks early,” you reminded him. “I wanted her to get over 3 and a half kilos, but Nyla didn’t want to wait any longer.” 
“Just like her mom,” Marc teased.
“And also much like her mom, she doesn’t want you to avoid her, since you make her feel so loved.”
It wasn’t that falling for Marc first meant you loved him more than his alters, but it did make you slightly more attuned to him. Your life had been made so much richer when Marc allowed Steven and Jake’s presences in your life, and you knew your daughter would only benefit from Marc fully allowing his presence in hers. 
Besides you’d heard about the last time Marc had tried to leave things in solely Steven and Jake’s hands, and that had resulted in Steven getting sacked for destroying a bathroom at the British Museum, the two of them getting shot and taking a round trip to the Egyptian underworld, and an evil crocodile lady trying to take over the planet. 
Your husband tensed, the tendon in his jaw working before he answered, “I don’t want to hurt her.”
“You won’t,” you assured him, stopping the stroller for a moment. “Honey, I wouldn't have married you, let alone had a baby with you, if I thought any of you were capable of hurting me or our child. Believe me.”
“But what’s the point, Steven is such a natural–”
“Yeah, and he’s wonderful. But tell me if I'm wrong, he doesn't hold the memories of your childhood the same way you do. He may have seen them, but he didn't experience first-hand, right?” 
Marc stayed silent, but didn’t correct you.
“He doesn’t carry the baggage quite like you do...which is nothing against either of you! And I know me and him have discovered, um…this new kink that we share, but that doesn’t mean I don't want you around. It doesn't mean you’re any less capable as a father than Steven or Jake. She needs all of her dads, Marc.”
Marc’s eyes drifted from yours to the sleeping infant in front of you.
“You each have your special little things you share with Nyla and it’s so beautiful to watch, babe,” Your eyes welled up with tears. Damn hormones, could you get through anything without crying? “I can't tell you how happy it makes me.”
“Baby,” he murmured. 
You composed yourself, “All I’m saying is that you can trust yourself with her. And if you ever have a moment when you don’t trust yourself, know that I trust you with Nyla, and I'm her mother. What I say goes.” 
“You’re the best mom, you know that right?” Marc questioned. It was your turn to downplay his compliment. “You take such good care of her. I know Nyla will never go through what I did because of you.”
“It’s easy,” you stopped yourself, “Well, it’s not easy, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but loving you and this little girl we made makes me happy to do it. So don’t be a stranger, okay?”
“Deal,” Marc agreed. 
“Good, because when my dad gets in tomorrow, he’s going to want someone to talk about sports with, and you know the other boys are shit at it,” you quipped. 
Marc chuckled as he bent over the front of the stroller to put Nyla’s hat on her little head and tie the strings around her chin while she slept. He couldn’t hide the proud grin that brightened his face when he managed to secure it without waking Nyla. 
“See what I mean?” you used his success to drive home his fatherly ability. 
Marc returned to your side, draped an arm around you, and pressed a kiss just under your ear. “Thank you, honey.” 
“I love you,” you whispered, resuming your walk. 
Nyla was the combination of you and your husband, which meant she wasn’t going to let either of you get too cocky. The stroller had only made it another thousand meters before she began fussing, though this time, more hormonally-fueled tears threatened to pour from your eyes when Marc didn’t hesitate to tend to his daughter. 
Read the next fic in the series: THE MAGIC TOUCH
A/N: Y’all I thought of this idea and then the dialogue confronting Marc when reader discivers his ex is ~Layla El-Faouly~ started writing itself and then four thousand more words poured out of me. Ooops. 
I know I say this every time, but it’s true that everyone’s support and responses get me fired up and inspired to write!!! 
Taglist: @twwcs @starfirette @toracainz 
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anthruser · 2 months
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i am neutral towards galladads (more so...towards no), but every so often i tangle with my personal takes (or what i'd love to see) and i wanna share. strap in, it's long. pt. 1
Ian doesn't push the thought of kids. They had a conversation about it after s11x12, but it took some time, it wasn't immediate. Basically, I think Ian relished the idea of being an uncle for a while. After all, it's always Mickey before anything.
They took care of Franny, Freddie (+upcoming kiddo), and Liam when they were asked to as favors. It subconsciously became this mental practice for them. Some unspoken tension kept rising, cause they felt the other was thinking the same thing but went unmentioned. Partially cause Ian decided not to press, and doing so meant breaking that threshold.
I think Mickey brought it up one day probably, Ian felt somewhat defensive at first, but since he always reminds Mickey about the importance of "communication," it'd bite him in the ass, so he gave in and spoke his truth. They had another conversation about it that ended in an agreement to see a "shrink." They started going, it was a deconstruction of years of trauma, fears, repressed emotions, y'know the drill.
Considering that they were between 25-27 when the show ended, I think they engaged in "intense" therapy for like 5-7 years maybe. Trying to talk through the bulks of it, for the purpose of parenting in the near future.
Through that time, they first contacted Debbie, had thoroughly researched artificial insemination (pls mickey thinking he would have to bang Debbie makes me cry 💀), had a lengthy talk with her. I haven't reached shameless far enough to know Debbie's character, but I think she probably gives them informed advice, a lot of "you guys sure you wanna do this??" And I don't think it stems from a place of objection, more so worry. I like to think she eventually caves in and accepts to help them when they're ready. She loves Ian, Ian loves Franny and Debbie (fuck JW for making it seem like he doesn't in s11) and Mickey and Debbie are besties.
(this is a huge reach but I ponder nonetheless) After thinking of Debbie, I think maybe Ian thinks of Mandy. I fully believe (like many other people) that Ian kept in touch with Mandy from time to time ever since she left, and at some point encouraged her and Mickey to reconnect. It's a slow process, but he knows both of them needed it and yearned for it deep down.
He breaks the news to her that they're gonna be parents at some point, sort of fills her in on the process and the years of therapy, gets Mickey to tell her anecdotes too or whatever. The thing is, at some point in the conversation, he yaps about how he has always wanted two, a boy and a girl (because Ian is a dork like that). That Debbie is only gonna do this once for now because...well that was the agreement, ofc, and he just doesn't wanna overwhelm Mick with two kids of their own even though that's what they practically baby sit.
Jokingly (at first), Mandy offers herself as a surrogate in case they aim for another kid. Ian sheepishly declines, that he couldn't ask her after everything she's been through, but Mandy reassures him that shit is different now. Times have changed, and that even though it's a big deal, she'd comply. Ian says he'll think about it, talk with Mick in case shit does happen as to not spook him. It was a pleasant talk.
He talks to Mickey and at first he doesn't know how to handle the thought of two kids, one of them from Mandy, and he almost feels like all this time in therapy could crumble down at the thought of Mandy being a surrogate. They have a long ass talk.
At the end Mickey affirms that he is open to the responsibility of two kids. The whole thing goes like Ian telling him he doesn't have to do this, that he's fine with just one and that he doesn't have to comply just because Ian would love two kids, and Mickey being like "all these years and you still don't get it through your thick skull that you ain't making me do anything I don't want to" (affectionately ofc). He reassures Ian that if he's making these decisions with him it's because he wants to, and he admits he owes a lot of it to that "shrink" they go to he's come to appreciate. It was a lovely conversation tbh and many fears and goals were shared between them.
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trashlie · 3 months
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Love and Deepspace Thoughts
I promised some thoughts about Love and Deepspace and we're a week into the game and I think I can finally ramble about it for a while. I've been immensely enjoying myself and screaming daily with my friends lol and I think I've been able to formulate my thoughts pretty well! Idk how many people actually wanna read this, but I always love to have a record of my thoughts - especially something this early in game, because knowing papergames, there's going to be so much angst, so many twists and turns, and I'm already seeing a lot of threads of how things could play out and I like to be able to look back and see how wrong I was lol.
I play on the North American server and have completed chapter 7, so this will be full of spoilers for story content, as well as a lot of spoilers for anecdotes, tender moments, and some of the myth stuff - I'll try to denote where I'll mention certain spoilers in case you're trying avoid certain things, but it'd be impossible to write all of my sincere thoughts and capture all of what I really love and am looking forward to without spoilers, unfortunately.
Below will have a lot of thoughts on the current LIs as well as speculation about the 2 coming LIs, as well as their dynamics, and further speculation on where I think - or maybe just would like to see - the story could be going. To be clear, I have not cleared all anecdotes or myths, as I'm trying to savor things and good lord I cannot pull all those cards; a lot of this is compilation between my experiences as well as @poisonheart and further things I've read and discussed in the server. I will also be approaching this as a longtime player of MLQC, papergames' other otome game, because I cannot help but see the comparisons between the game and sing the praises of where I feel like they've grown and refined, but I don't think you'll need to have played MLQC to read this - you can honestly just ignore those bits lol >A<
What I can outright, sans spoilers, say is that I'm really enjoying Love and Deepspace so much and I think that it's come at a really good time for me, personally, as a MLQC player, because there's so much in game that's been completed and we're basically going through the motions doing our dailies, waiting for our new chapter events or participating in the occasional events (if you aren't hoarding resources for SP wish tree events) so it feels SO refreshing to dive into a new game that takes place in the same universe/world but have so much new stuff to uncover, so much new lore, new characters to meet and get to know. In MLQC I have a very clear favorite, but so far in LADS, I find that while I think I might have a favorite, I really enjoy all three LIs so much and I don't feel bad when I pull someone else's card, because it means I get to gobble all the lore! I don't feel like "UUUGGHH THIS GUY" when we get to X's chapter route. Perhaps it's just that LADS really caters to specific tropes and cliches in a way that I enjoy, but I feel so much like they've done these characters great justice! This goes for the MC, too, who doesn't feel at all like a cookie cutter MC meant to be a stand in for our own self-insert, but rather has a lot of personality of her own, is feisty and discerning.
Also, I gotta give a lot of props to the character customization features. I understand why people are upset that you can only change your hair and hair color in the photobooth function, but we rarely see MC out of that feature - so much of the game is in first person POV - and the times that we do see her, she's seen from the back, so maintaining the same hair for all characters allows them to keep something they can use for her stand in in such scenarios. But the customization is legit nuts! You can do so much with it, I spent so long tweaking mine the day before the game launched! I want to make side accounts I will never play just to play with that function lol
But let's get into the good stuff!
I really cannot sing the praises for the LIs enough, and that's going to be the bulk of what I'll talk about, because even this early in game, there's so much nuance to the LIs in both their characters as well as their dynamics with MC. Everyone brings a little something different to the table, and with what little we know of the upcoming LIs, I think even if for some reason the current LIs don't work for people, maybe the new ones might? But personally, I am so invested in all three of them! While I think I have a definite ranking in favor forming, it's not like it means I dislike any of them at all, and I'm always so eager to learn more!
One thing I'd like to mention before getting into it is that I love the inclusion of the myth cards, and though they are treated as alternate universes, I think it's more like they are previous or parallel timelines, but I'll try to get into that a little more as I talk about the characters!
From what I can see so far, I think Rafayel is one of the more popular fans with the North American/English-speaking fanbase - and it's not hard to see why! He's sassy, provides good comedy, he's fun to bully, and he's really pouty. I had a feeling he would be my favorite from the get go, just because I tend to have a thing for really pathetic men lmao and I have SUCH a fondness for him. I said I think I have a ranking forming, but it feels WRONG to rank them because that's how much I really like them, but if I had to, Rafayel's #2 position is really, REALLY close to #1! But the thing is, it's not just because of all of those traits above. I'd argue that he's one of the characters who has a lot of iceberg depth, as in there's a lot of depth to him that may get ignored or glossed over because of the sass and brattiness that accompanies, or even masks, it. As poisonheart puts it, the comedy hides the pain - and Rafayel comes with a LOT of pain! There's a delicious complexity to him where he is one part needy and clingy, but also one part resentful and hurt. MC made a promise that she doesn't recall - whether it was in this life or another - and you really get the sense that Rafayel wants to settle the score, but at the same time his feelings get in the way of those bitter, hurt feelings, and I really enjoy this complexity a lot! I think it elevates all of the sassiness, gives it a purpose and meaning.
Take his Nightly Stroll Bond: on the one hand it comes across as comedic and even manipulative -and it is! But when you get into it, you understand why. That's not to say if I think there's justification for manipulation because that's not what I'm here for; I'm just here for a good time and a good time I'm having. But when Rafayel says "It's been 800 years!" I don't think that's an exaggeration - he just isn't talking about just the day that he waited. Is faking an injury/illness and checking himself into a hospital overkill? Sure lol but that's what makes him so delightful to me. There's all of this hurt and unaddressed resentment, but as much as that, there's all of these feelings! Because even though he's hurt, he CARES about MC, SO MUCH. That's the problem! It would be easier if he didn't care, but he does. He's so needy, so clingy, he wants her attention because he's waited for so long while she was off, having forgotten him, living a life that abandoned and left him behind while he waited and waited and listen ;~; my stinky fish man I'm so sorry I cannot wait for her to learn the truth. I want to know SO BADLY what happened! When did they meet, anyway? He makes a comment on the homescreen when he's sulking lol about "See you in three months... three minutes, landlubber"
HOW LONG DID HE WAIT FOR HER IF ONE MINUTE IS ONE MONTH TO HIM?!
And listen, idk what anyone else thinks, but the end of chapter 7 had me in my FEELINGS, with the way he tried to leave her at the bottom of the ocean - but he couldn't, because of their promise, because he's unable to go back on it, because even though she forgot all about him and their promise and went about her life without a memory of him, he can't do that. It's the hurt! It's the resentment! It's the confliction between his feelings, because it seems like they take up equal space - his hunger for her attention, for what feels like she was so fickle to give and take away, the way she meant so much to him and he feels like it wasn't the same ;A;
(I've contemplated how possible it is that they met when she was younger, before she was attacked in the Wanderer incident 14 years ago, and if that could somehow have affected her memory, but I feel like it must be something greater, because seeing the fish glow in his heart means the vow they made was binding, so something strong must've caused her to forget. But that's also why I've contemplated if this was in another life? I'm less sure about this, because in Rafayel's second anecdote, he crosses paths with MC at university, though of course she doesn't recognize or recall him, and he specifically recognizes her voice. "Though her voice has matured, her pronunciation, enunciation, the rhythm of her speech, and even the emphasis in her sentences... Every word strikes like a drumbeat, awakening long-buried memories in his mind" It feels more likely that it happened while they were younger. Also I feel like this passage really encompasses her significance, that he can recall these details, to recognize them after so much time ;~; stinky fish you make my heart ache ;~;)
I appreciate so much that they've given Rafayel so much depth, that under the comedy of his pathetic, sulky exterior is so much reason for it, that there's an undercurrent of resentment and something dark - after all, we haven't actually uncovered what happened with the painting and Raymond. We saw the mermaid skeleton in his house - was Rafayel seeking revenge for his people?
But Rafayel also shows tremendous emotional sensitivity, in ways that sometimes catch me off guard. I distinctly remember lol sitting in shock after 4-3, and the text from Rafayel that pops up asking MC if she got the thing, telling her about how he asked a seagull to send a white seallshell why hasn't it arrived yet lol and I remember going "NOT NOW RAFAYEL READ THE ROOM ;~;" and then he goes on, telling her "if you draw on it and put it into the ocean the sea will carry the feelings you poured into the drawing to the soul you yearn for" and I just started SOBBING lol ;~; It was just so.... poignant but so simple. He didn't say I'm sorry for your loss or my condolences or anything like that - it was his own chaotic, weird method, but it was sincere. Likewise, he shows that similar sincerity in Ocean At Night, despite initially dismissing paper lanterns as silly human traditions - a lantern will be blown out why would you put all your hope in something so fleeting - coming around to using his own flame, that will never go out, to light a lantern for MC with the prayer that her hopes will never go out. ;~; Listen, I cried. I was TENDER my heart was soggy ;~;
And while I know people love a good pathetic man and enjoy chaotic sass and the fact that we really, truly NEVER know where his plots are going to go lmao - always an adventure with him - I hope they appreciate that depth and don't disavow the darker elements of him that give reason to those core elements of him. Rafayel is a character that carries his hurt and bitterness on his sleeve, rather than hiding it or shoving it away, and I really look forward to exploring it and all the messiness it has to offer, and how it will play out for MC.
On the very far end of the spectrum is Zayne. He's the character I expected to not be too fond of, so I was so pleasantly surprised as we got to know him to find myself proven wrong! I expected him to be... hm... I guess colder? More prickly? Than he turns out to be? And, admittedly, he is still rather aloof and cold on the surface, but I think it helps that he and MC have that history and that we are introduced very early to them through the A Frozen Promise Bond. It made it readily apparent that Zayne was not a cold and aloof person because he was too lofty or something but rather... it just seemed like maybe he'd been someone more awkward when he was younger, someone who didn't know how to connect very well with the daughter of this family friend, but he still tried. The snow seal took me out, you guys ;~; I never moved on from that!!!!!!
Despite seeming so cold, there's a certain kind of warmth to Zayne, just under the surface. He shows his care and concern in the ways he knows best, as MC's PCP, caring about her well being and health, but their Tender Moments are a collection of wonderful moments showing them growing closer, getting to know each other better as people, as friends and equals. For the record, Starry Nocturne hurt me so much, but it did two things I thought were so important. a. It showed that he was not infallible, which I think is very important, because often characters are written in their roles as geniuses who never fail, or else accomplish the impossible, and to see him lose a patient, while painful to read, made him so human but also b. It gave him that moment of vulnerability with MC where he could lean on her. It's so, SO important! for a MI to be able to lean on the MC, I feel, for them to be those equals, for him to be able to be vulnerable with her, but especially so for a character like Zayne who feels very reserved and closed off.
MC makes statements about feeling like there's distance between her and Zayne, especially when they first come back into each others' lives for the first time, so getting to indulge in these little Tender Moments of them taking little steps towards each other, closing that gap between them, is so satisfying! Having that history gives them a dynamic unlike Rafayel or Xavier's with her, because she has her memories of their childhood, of who he was when they were younger, and who they are now, and can compare the warmth of him opening up, of the chuckles and laughter she elicits from him. They also have this kind of flirtship I really enjoy - something very coy, not in an uwu so shy way just.... very coy, both dancing around the bush, before one of them calls it what it is - I thought the A Heartfelt Paradise Tender Moment a really good example of this!
It's so easy to read Zayne as being cold and aloof, but he really does have so much warmth, he just isn't good at showing it. He doesn't wear things on his sleeves like Rafayel or MC. But good LORD when he's in private....!!!!!!! The Business Trip Memoria TOOK. ME. OUT!!!!!! This is the game launch and they're already throwing this at us?! It was, to me, such a mature kind of date to give us? Two people who have had to grow used to each other's absence in their lives, and continue having to make space for those absences, as both are busy people - Zayne, a dedicated cardiac surgeon and MC a hunter - and what it means to grow used to the absence and to miss each other. But listen - when MC got in his lap?! She was touching his mouth? His face?! "What did you want me to do, in front of all those people?" he asked her? SIR?!
HELLO?! Girl. Listen.
I had to fan myself alfjkkfkjafjkafkjaf lmao
I looooooove them for that element of normalcy - for the people who have important careers and lives that they have to attend to, but still find the room for each other in their lives. The implication that Zayne rushed his way through school, took on grueling workloads and lacked a social life amongst classmates much older than him, not because he loved learning or even because he was so dedicated to his career - but because it was his way back to MC, so that he could return to stand in front of her? GOD. HOW DO YOU MOVE ON FROM THAT? HOW DO YOU HANDLE THAT? Knowing that he did it all so that he could stand in front of you again? HOWLING pls LISTEN.
Zayne may feel cold on the surface, but he is SO warm, he cares so much. And not just about MC, either. Thank God, too, because I'm not huge on the "Cold man only cares about the woman he loves" type, but Zayne cares so much about his patients, and making sure they feel seen, cared about? His first anecdote had me crying about seniors in hospitals with no relatives to accompany them to their examinations ;~; What a man.
I haven't had a chance to dig into his myth yet, which is a shame, but his third anecdote DID destroy me. I'm not even exaggerating, I was sobbing in my bedroom - and the worst part is I knew it would be painful going in and I still wasn't braced for impact enough! I mean, frankly, both his second and third hurt but nothing like the third! Parallel universe Zayne in a grim reaper role where he must kill humans turning into Wanderers - so very opposite the surgeon version of him who does everything he can to save people, both of them living parallel lives to each other, experiencing each others' lives through their dreams/nightmares. THIS HAS ME SCREAMING!!!!!
So much of MLQC has a lot to do with timelines - parallel worlds, some alternate universes, a whole timeline that's technically the same timeline reset but also still moving forward...... lol I can't help but think about where all of this fits in to LADS. Even though the Myth storylines are taken as alternate universes.... I think they're part of everyone's stories. We see echos of them. I haven't finished Rafayel's but even little moments, like making a break for it and having to run to escape attention echos a scene of Rafayel and the Princess MC making a mad dash in the market alley to escape the palace guards. It feels especially true for Xavier and MC, which I'll get to. But especially with Zayne - whose myth, again, I haven't been able to dig into, but seems to pose him as a sort of god, a forseer - we have two very different timelines/events now: his myth/Philos story and his parallel Grim Reaper self. How many timelines/parallel universes are we playing with, I wonder....?
I really want to revisit this in the future when I do get to dig into his myth, because I can see how Rafayel and Xavier's myths tie into their identities and their dynamics with MC, but I don't know yet how any of that works for Zayne and MC! I'm so intrigued, I can't wait!!!!
And finally, Xavier. God, I should have known lol in retrospect I should have realized Xavier would be my weak spot but listen..... sometimes I gotta lie to myself lol I love everything about him, the seemingly gentle eepy man who is also simultaneously a walking weapon of mass destruction but also so easily stumped by a UFO machine lol. Much like Rafayel, I'm especially fond of him because of the depth and dynamics, but also, honestly, much like Rafayel, he just checks all the boxes. Poisonheart puts it best when she says Xavier is the perfect middle-ground of the two - he's not as sassy as Rafayel is, but he'll still roast MC, he's very grounded and comes off a little aloof sometimes, but he doesn't seem nearly as aloof as Zayne, and he's also really unintentionally funny! He plays the middle-ground of them SO well. And where Zayne was working hard in order to show up in front of MC again and Rafayel has a score to settle but also so much neediness, it feels like Xavier has a LOT of karma to make up for.
Now, I personally don't have his myth cards, but poisonheart does, so everything I know I've experienced via her and all of our hours of screaming lol and the thing that really gets me the most about Xavier and MC is like..... okay it's the way he's clearly this really incredibly strong guy, but he plays the submissive prey role so well? lol He begs if she tells her to, he doesn't resist, he indulges her, he plays along - but when the mood strikes, he'll pull the dominant switch and flip the table and alkfjlFKJKAFJ ALKJFAF LAKJFAKFKJFAJ AFLKJD GODDDDDDDD IT GETS TO MEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Xavier has that sense of like.... everything for MC, right? Like he's making up for a lifetime. There's implications that maybe he's been searching through space and time for her, trying to find her, that they've lost and each other countless times before - or rather, she's lost him - and his Shooting Stars myth supports this. Sometimes it's really subtle, sometimes it stands out so much I'm in agony. She remarks so often how he feels so distant, like he's as out of reach and mysterious as a star. She has nightmares about him disappearing and he is incredibly reassuring about staying, about not leaving. And maybe I'm reading into it, but he even talks about her hanging on tight, like maybe if she's strong enough, she can keep him from ever being taken away, keep them from being separated this time.
He's also the one who feels like he's actually endured all the years. Rather than separate timelines or parallel worlds it feels like Xavier has actually traveled through space and time, like he's the same Xavier from the myth himself, which makes him talking about the loneliness of stars so much worse. How long has he been alone, searching for her? ;~;
But their dynamic just really gets to me - it's those echos, the way MC subconsciously acts on them, and how indulgent Xavier is towards her. It's the playful teasing and the gentleness and how he plays so submissive and docile but when the mood strikes he can switch it up and catch her (and me!!!) off guard. It's the way he texts LMAO never writing out you or one lmao (which is marginally better than Rafayel's COMPLETE LACK OF PUNCTUATION LMAO ALFKAJFKJAFKJAFKJAFJK) It's the way he has that innocent baby face and could absolutely get away with murder.
Initially I had contemplated if it was possible he is actually a star and while maybe that isn't true I am still not certain he's human - at least he's not from our world (especially if he really is the very Xavier from the myth) but I still like to think of him as one, because he wears the star motif so well and likens himself to one so often. Also, look, I am a SUCKER for a star motif. I was doomed from the start lol.
There's just something about the agony and TRAGEDY in their past, in the echos, the subconscious fears, and the sheer indulgence!!!!! It's MC telling Xavier he might be her enemy later and the distress it caused him, prompting him to share his access privileges with her to earn her trust ;A; It's the way he's apparently spent DECADES, at the VERY LEAST, on our earth AND HE'S A TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE COOK lmaoooooooo it's the stupid little lines he says because he's not as overtly clingy and pouty as Rafayel but an armful of plushies is a dreadful thing because then he doesn't have a free hand to hold MC's hand !!!!!!! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS?! WHINES
I could write a whole essay about Xavier and I'm restraining myself and attempting to be really, really normal about him okay?
But yeah for him it's that depth of like... the guilt and agony he carries - because not only does leaving her hurt him, but it hurts himself, too. That unbearable loneliness, the endless wait, hoping, wondering, unsure of when, or if, he'll find her again, but refusing to give up - and when he does, endeavoring to make up for it. Like, as it is, there's something about strong men being submissive that is so lakkjfkafkjfkjaf alfjakfaf but it's the way Xavier does it with MC that is soooooo INDULGENT, so VERY "for you, because it's you" that makes me want to chew my keyboard and howl at the moon and every time he reassures her he won't leave I feel dread but also I want it to be true.
I know how papergames operates. I know Xavier may mean it, but I also know.... ;A;
And to think, this is all JUST THE LAUNCH STUFF! We haven't even passed chapter 8 yet lmao We don't even have all our LIs! We've (maybe?) yet to meet our antagonist? WHICH I'M EXCITED ABOUT BTW
Listen.
I have some thoughts and I'll try to keep them short (yknow, for me) because this is already long and rambly and maybe I can just expand on this later but: Sylus and Caleb are confirmed as LIs right? But are they the same person or not??????
If Sylus = Caleb it gives us a LOT of potential for exploring some really complex, grey morality. I mean, no matter what, Sylus is going to bring grey morality lol but especially if it turns out Caleb is actually secretly the leader of Onychinus, because it brings that whole "Who is this person I thought I knew?" and more so because Onychinus is poised as an enemy to the Hunter's Association.
But something Papergames has done in MLQC and I fully expect them to do here is explore grey morality, not only in Onychinus, but the Hunter's Association. Xavier's Tender Moments Garden of Secrets brings up the implication that some Wanderers are, in fact, intelligent, and while it's rare, it can occur. And with parallel world Grim Reaper Zayne having to kill people before they turn into Wanderers it begs the question of this world: can that happen here, too? And it gets into the moral conundrums. That's not to say the Hunter's Association are bad for killing Wanderers and protecting people but it starts to bring up questions, because in Grim Reaper Zayne's world, this is being covered up. What about this world? There's also the question of what is Onychinus even doing? I fully expect to find that whatever their objective is, it will be a question of the greater good and if the ends justify the means and the such.
Ultimately, an antagonist LI has to be sympathetic in some fashion, because how else are they going to write the story for them lol. Like they can certainly have Bond/Memoria/Tender Moments that are more about the combative element of their relationship meeting the chemistry that draws them to each other, but at any rate, there has to be something that draws them to each other and makes them care, right? So therefore, he can't be entirely bad, or at least MC has to be able to empathize with him and his objective, or the cause of it or something like that.
If Caleb = Sylus, that might be more achievable because of their history, but obviously that isn't a requirement, and that can also make it more complex, because again, that whole "this person I thought I knew".
I think there's a possibility for that overlap partly because we already have a LI with a history with MC - but to be fair, Zayne's history with MC is very different than Caleb's and has a different dynamic, so even if they didn't give him the villain route, it would still play out very differently and give them a significantly different enough dynamic that I don't think it would be a big issue.
If he's not Sylus, then there's still a lot of avenues to explore with Caleb. They've already implied that Caleb wants to take care of MC, wants her to lean on him and let him play that role for him, to stop being so strong in front of him, and I think that could very well affect his story and what has lead to his "death". Being in the airforce makes me wonder if it's possible that the military is associated in any way with Onychinus - after all, didn't he say that he does top secret work involving the deepspace tunnel, and isn't Onychinus interested in that? It wouldn't be the first time a government agency was written as being corrupt lol (and again there could be a lot gray morality here where Onychinus isn't necessarily inherently bad). Caleb could have gotten involved simply by his job.
There's the revenge angle, if he, too, was an experiment subject (which would make sense because why did Granny take him in as well?) and wanting to get back at? the people who experimented on them. Or wanting to be more involved? A spy case? SO many possibilities and I'm really excited to see where it all goes!
I think regardless of how Caleb is reintroduced to the story, I imagine there's going to be some kind of conflict - his "death" and then reappearance.... did he know that was going to happen? was it planned? was he involved? I don't think they'll bring him back and yay! now she has a family member back but I think there will be some kind of strife to work through, some good ol angst that really plays with the dynamic of feeling hurt and betrayed but wanting to return to the old times that can never be returned to, wanting to seek refuge in someone who maybe doesn't exist anymore, being drawn to someone you cared so much about and feeling so conflicted about it alfkjkfjkjafjkaf kj
I JUST HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS!!!!!!!!!!
This is such a rambling mess so kudos to anyone who made it this far. Maybe I'll manage to write some more bitesized thoughts later @___@
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cailenbraern · 9 months
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Not sure if I can fully articulate my thoughts about Jaskier’s growth as an artist throughout the seasons of The Witcher but I'm going to give it a go.
Because when we meet him in season 1 , he's more or less just starting out. He's fresh from Oxenfurt and determined to make a name for himself on the continent. The trouble is, he's got nothing to draw on. He's still young so his experience is negligible. He performs songs about monsters and creatures with little accuracy or meaning, and we meet him being jeered and pelted with food.
Meeting Geralt gives him a new inspiration for original songs, although he's not truthful, particularly in Toss a Coin. As Geralt said, that's not what happened, and Jaskier responds with respect doesn't make history. He's still too young and too inexperienced to realise what impact his songs can have, and he's solely determined to improve the reputations of Witchers along with his own reputation.
The two other songs in season 1 are Fishmongers Daughter, which I'm not going to discuss in any detail, and Her Sweet Kiss. Now one cane argue that the latter is heavily drawn from personal emotion and feeling, but the end result is a fairly normal ballad style of song with poetry as lyrics and vivid imagery and metaphors. It's a start, but Jaskier still has a long way to go.
Then we get to season 2, where we find Jaskier in the early stages of recognition. We see him performing in a packed bar, with accompaniment, and the crowd are lapping it up. It helps that the song he's singing comes, as per his own words, from the heart. Burn Butcher, Burn is 100% emotion, 100% authentic, and gone is the poetry. The lyrics are raw and passionate.
Despite this, we're led to believe that he found his fame with The Golden One. In contrast with BBB, this song lacks any emotional punch. It's purely a story or anecdote set to music. A fun little ditty, but unless you can suspend your disbelief, if open to criticism. As happens when attempting to smuggle the Elves onto the ship.
Now, we know that at this point, Jaskier has done and seen and experienced far more things than he had in season 1, and this has left an impact on him. He has matured and developed his sense of empathy and his kindness so much more than the immature travelling bard showed in Posada, thanks tp witnessing the violence and persecution of the elves, while also dealing with his own broken heart. Yet he's still clinging on to his want and desire to be respected and applauded for his skill and talent in writing and singing songs, so we see that he does not take criticism well.
More happens in season 2 to shape and form him, Rience's torture for one, the massacre at Kaer Morhen, his friendship with Yennefer and his mending (such as it is) of his friendship with Geralt along with the continuing politics all across the continent.
I do have a soft spot for Whoreson Prison Blues. The first two verses are beautiful, followed by a very crude, very catchy chorus. I can't imagine he would include it in future sets, but it's so personal to him in that moment that I love it.
Little wonder that by Season Three, we are met with yet more changes in our bard. His words to Radovid stating that he doesn't 'do pretty' suggest to me that he has consciously decided to move away from filling his songs with poetry and imagery and is focused more on honesty and truth. Extraordinary Things which immediately follows is a perfect demonstration of Jaskier singing openly and from the heart.
But what I wanted to get to in this long winded post, is that this is the season we finally see the Emotional Impact Jaskier's songs have on other people. No criticisms, no jokes, just the power of his music.
Whatever your opinion on Radovid and his motivations, Extraordinary Things affected him. You can see this in his reaction as he hears it for the first time, and he so clearly can't get it out of his head after hearing it only one time, that he goes above and beyond to learn it.
Next is Ciri, and we see Jaskier singing a lullaby (which he may or may not have written himself, jury's out on that) to her. Later, in the desert, she sings the lullaby back to herself, drawing strength and courage from it. This power has been given by Jaskier through his singing, making her feel safe and loved in a vulnerable moment.
Finally, Eternal Flowers, which I'll say here, is the best I've ever heard Joey sing, both on the album version and in the live performance on the show. He has his lute, but he lays it down like laying down a weapon. It's just him, stripped bare, open, vulnerable, honest, true. This is not his song, but he feels the emotion and the message as thought it was. His empathy is shining. It moves him to tears, but not only him, the Dryads also feel the emotion he is channelling, and it moves them to tears.
I don't have much of a conclusion to this ramble, but TL;DR, Jaskier’s songwriting and art has evolved over the three seasons and his bardic power is a might force to be reckoned with. He will be remembered long after Valdo for his honesty and beauty.
Not pretty. Real.
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hedgehog-moss · 10 months
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hi! Just wanted to ask what you’ve been reading lately? I love seeing your book recs! Also what are some of your favorite books ?
Hi :) I've read some disappointing stuff lately, so I decided to start two books from my to-read list that felt like safe bets—Samantha Shannon's A Day of Fallen Night and Elsa Morante's Lies and Sorcery. I'm enjoying both so far!
I've read interesting nonfiction this year—Empire of Pain, about the Sackler family; Erich Schwartzel's Red Carpet about the role of the movie business in cultural hegemony; and Laure Hillerin's biography of the Countess Greffulhe, who was a fascinating woman. She was the real-life model behind Proust's Duchess de Guermantes character, and a really influential figure in the arts & sciences in the early 1900s—she financed the first productions of Diaghilev's Ballets Russes, frequented Rodin's studio, helped Marie Curie find the funds to start her Radium Institute... It was a good read. I also read a biography of Anne Perry by Peter Graham, which was so-so—the story of the murder is morbidly fascinating but the way it was told had too many trivial details and not enough depth.
Worst nonfiction books of the year so far were Niall Ferguson's Doom: The Politics of Catastrophe which didn't seem to have any point to make, and François-Guillaume Lorrain's Scarlett which was marketed as a fascinating new look into the making of Gone With the Wind but actually the author just watched his DVD's behind-the-scenes bonus content and diluted it into 300+ pages of rehashed anecdotes, it was so pointless. I found it on the "Vos libraires vous recommandent !" shelf and now I feel betrayed by that bookshop.
As for fiction, I've enjoyed Ira Levin's A Kiss Before Dying, it felt very dated in a fun way, everything about it felt intensely 1950s. Was very disappointed by Silvia Avallone's Acciaio, I'd heard good things about it but it was so joyless and meh. Álvaro Enrigue's Ahora me rindo y eso es todo was a bit disappointing in the second half, but the first half was good so I'll try other books of his. Pierre Lemaitre's Miroir de nos peines was fun in an expected way—I mean those who enjoyed the beginning of his Au revoir là-haut trilogy will enjoy this one too as it's more of the same. And I also had a good time reading Catherynne Valente's Radiance— similarly if you already like her writing style you'll probably enjoy this book. (I was listening to this as I read it and it fit really well with the floaty-nostalgic-unearthly atmosphere of the book, it's always nice to accidentally find a good book-soundtrack that enhances the experience! Now I can never listen to it while reading again as it's too intertwined with that story.)
And I really liked Madame de Staël's Delphine but I wouldn't recommend it to just anyone, it's very 18th century (though it's from 1802). If you enjoy idle noblewomen writing each other 20-page-long letters in gorgeously long-winded 18th-century prose about how the Viscount of Something glanced at them from the other end of a salon and nothing else happened and now they're having agonies then you'll love this book, it's 900 pages of this. I can't get enough of it personally, and I found it hilarious that these aristocrats had such low-stakes problems considering the story starts in 1790. They didn't notice the Revolution, they were too busy writing tormented letters about extramarital glances.
Some books I've added to my kindle recently: Virginia Feito's Mrs. March, Simon Schama's Landscape & Memory (someone I follow on GR described it as "monstrously bloated" while the NYT blurb diplomatically calls it "a work of enormous scope" which made me laugh), Seyhmus Dagtekin's To the Spring, by Night, Margarita Liberaki's Three Summers, Maggie O'Farrell's The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox, Dawn Powell's A Time to Be Born.
This got long, sorry! You can have a look at my 5- and 4.5 star shelves on goodreads, for some of my favourite books of the past few years :)
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christiansorrell · 5 months
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TTRPG Read-Through: Patchwork World
Here is a read-through I did last year (originally posted on Twitter) of one of the most unique PbtA games I've ever read: Patchwork World by Aaron King! - Christian
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Credits up first. I know a lot of these folks and they are really cool! Excited to dig into this. I've heard good things, and it's been a while since I've read or played any Powered by the Apocalypse.
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This is a cool, strong set up for me. I really like settings that ask characters to face a changing world and either take up change themselves or work to restore the old way of things. It's a headspace I find myself in a lot IRL these days so it's fun to explore.
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I'm interested to see how the no stats, no playbooks angle of this game works, considering playbooks are typically such a staple of PbtA games.
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Standard three-tired success, mixed success, fail forward resolution for rolls here and questions on the moves determine your bonus to the roll. Easy peasy. +2 is the max bonus.
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Other types of rolls are described here. Interested to see how they come into play. I also love clocks and use them in pretty much every game I run so it's nice to see those laid out here too.
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We just love a lil guy, don't we folks?
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A good chunk of the opening here is spent on laying out a lot of solid foundations of roleplaying generally. It feels like a book (so far) that would work for entirely new players. It doesn't feel essential for me, but I never mind a game that supports varied experience levels.
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Character creation is wide open, especially since there aren't playbooks and the text stresses that character creation is very much worldbuilding because of this. Fate-like concepts and tags are in here too which are things I generally enjoy. I like the Drawback mechanic.
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Moves are in the playback I set in the other room so I'm gonna go grab those. You get two chosen moves and everyone has access to a number of default moves. You've got three other life/XP things to keep track of too. I'm especially interested in Hex.
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There are a lot of moves! They seem quite varied and often very weird, fitting well with the titular patchwork world. You can have a duck's slick soul to dodge more easily or a magical space suit or speak to birds or be good at cartography. Overwhelming, but in an exciting way.
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You also choose a community as a party. While PCs all have their original homelands (before the end of the old worlds), you know have a community that gets its own little sheet. This is a cool reshaping of the Gangs from Blades. I also like how the community can change over time.
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Coming back to a PbtA game after months of more OSR-minded stuff, I think a lot of what these games contain are things that experienced players would say you could just do in any game at any time that it makes sense in the story, but I do find value in stating what's possible.
Esp since many players come to games with artificial limits on their options (whether that's from video games, more traditional RPGs, etc.). I just think good GMing here requires making sure that the players don't limit themselves just to the bevy of explicit options either.
GM moves (mostly to guide the response to failed rolls). I really think the community aspect of this set up is one of the biggest appeals to me so far. That and the wild list of moves, which I'm sure makes for amazing parties of characters.
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I always feel like it's never something I should be in my own writing (for some probably unnecessary reason), but I enjoy the first-person, casual writing style throughout the book. Makes for a very chill read.
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Good to see this game employs the Branson Reese style of NPC naming.
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Stress acts as a single catch-all health and challenge rating for NPCs. Ideally, I'd hope this would help lead to the PCs approaching encounters with more than just violence.
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Sections like this are what I'm referring to when I say this book feels very friendly to new players. It's got little anecdotes and thoughts like this throughout.
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Look, it's been a while since I've seen A Christmas Story but... it didn't have ghosts in it right?
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There's a sample adventure in the back (which I'll skip for this read-through) plus loads of random tables. Some wonderfully bizarre stuff in the characters and faction tables. Really gives you a good idea for how gonzo you can go with the setting.
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Love these two in particular
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Optional rules include hard mode (which I just think is kind of funny to see in PbtA, but could be cool if you lean heavy into the post-apoc setting) and some optional moves. I like that some moves focus on romance, something I enjoy IRL but never think to focus on in games.
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I was wondering why this was the sixth edition!
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That's all for the book itself. Going back to the packet to dig into the things I missed. Some expected bits in here but always one or two unique options I really enjoy. Leaking hex is cool (and could have some troubling cascade effects in certain situations).
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I definitely wish, at least in sitting down to read like this, that the contents of the player packet was also in the book itself. I think PbtA has this tendency of leading to loads of pages on the table, but it can make them very easy to pick up and play or to learn as you play.
That element is definitely here, but I think the vast number of wide-ranging moves and the excitement that would drum up in my player group would more than makeup for that initial overwhelming feel of "whoa, that's a lot of papers out on the table".
Overall, it's the most I've wanted to play a game in this style in a while. I like that the base setup for the world is very much up to the players to determine via the characters they make. I like that PCs here will probably feel unlike any other folks have played before.
The community aspect feels like where I'd want to center my story around, as a player. Seeing that shift and change over time feels like it would be very rewarding and would help lean into the "the old world is dead, what do we want the new world to look like?" theme I enjoy.
Because Aaron King is cool and recently hit a lot of Twitter followers, Patchwork Worlds is now Pay-what-you-want over on Itch.
I'm not sure if physical copies are readily available. For full disclosure (guess I should have said this up front), I got this copy for free from Aaron! Not for the purposes of this thread or anything, just for fun a while back.
Thanks for reading more ramblings from me! If you like to do that sort of thing, check out my newsletter - Missives from the MeatCastle. It's got writings on my work, cool stuff I've run across the web in the last month, and exclusive rpg stuff! https://meatcastle.substack.com
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practicalsolarpunk · 10 months
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Does creating biodiversity in your yard lead to more bugs inside the house? I have a bad fear of cockroaches and I live in Texas. I want to do my part, but I also want to keep bugs out of my home.
Great question! From what I could tell from research, nobody's actually studied this much, so everything here is anecdotal. Some anecdotal evidence says it does, some says it doesn't. I personally have not noticed adding more biodiversity to outside spaces increasing the insects in my home, but I also haven't yet had the opportunity to undertake a major yard biodiversity project.
In my experience, bugs getting into your home depends on a lot more on other factors than yard biodiversity. So if you're concerned about cockroaches getting in, here are my thoughts:
Don't leave food out where possible - lots of bugs, including cockroaches, are attracted to easy sources of food. Cleaning up crumbs and rinsing leftover food off dishes and pans can discourage them.
Limit sources of water - standing water attracts all kinds of bugs, including cockroaches. Wipe up spills, make sure your drains are draining, don't let water sit in dishes too long, and make sure there's no leaky pipes providing sources of moisture.
Reduce clutter in dark, less-used spaces - if you have a lot of stuff in an attic, basement, or garage, consider decluttering or at least organizing it. Roaches love to hide in those spaces, and less hiding spaces makes it more likely they'll look elsewhere.
Create habitat far from your home - if cockroaches are common in your area, consider creating a habitat on your property but as far from your home as possible. Cockroaches don't care if they're in your house or somewhere else, they just want access to food, water, and shelter. If you give them somewhere to live besides your house (even a brush pile is good - anywhere shaded, full of small spaces, and preferably with some kind of water access), chances are good they'll go there instead of bothering with your house.
Consider a "barrier zone" around your home - creating biodiversity doesn't have to mean having a jungle right up next to your house. Consider creating a space directly around your house with very little shelter for bugs. It will discourage them from getting close to your home in the first place.
Seal cracks - cockroaches can get in through even tiny cracks and gaps. For extra help keeping them out, seal cracks around windows and doors and check for any gaps in walls or siding that they might be able to squeeze through.
Peppermint - roaches (and most bugs) hate the smell of peppermint. If it won't bother any pets or people in your home, consider spraying a peppermint scent around baseboards and places roaches like to hide. You could also consider planting peppermint close to your house or in your "barrier zone" to discurage them further (although all mint plants spread like crazy, so either create some sort of barrier or keep it in pots to keep it contained).
Hope this helps! Followers, feel free to chime in - especially anyone who knows more about insects and biodiversity in Texas specifically!
- Mod J
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