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#thought this would be funny out of context but if you want the story - read below.
homicidal-slvt · 1 month
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I can't eat spaghetti unsupervised.
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vulcanhello · 2 years
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star trek the savage trade was. so much. there were implications. there were friendships. there were ten thousand unfulfilled ideas. it was not well written but it WAS a ten course meal of food for thought
the most interesting part of this book was the complexity between spock and valek which was completely disregarded even though it arguably had the most interesting stuff going on. for example; when they meet up again after over ten years
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varen is her twin brother, which we’ll get to. but here she’s pretty rude towards spock, despite later telling kirk that she felt bad for bullying him/formally arguing against his existence when they were kids. which. okay. only to LATER find out she’s been amongst humans for over ten years. she even starts this little romantic thing with kirk like this
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she does stuff like this multiple times. kirk as the narrator even frequently mentions how ‘un-vulcan’ her actions are
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i thought it might have been heading in a direction where she also felt like her emotions were getting the better of her as a kid, maybe making her feel like spock was better than her even being half vulcan, but no. it was just about her going along with every other vulcan’s prejudice towards him. then there was this whole thing where she came to take back her opinions because she respected sarek and amanda so much, and of course once spock grew up and proved himself’ she respected him too. but like. there’s so much there. the main point made here regarding all this was that vulcans underestimated spock because obviously spock is great but he couldn’t earn respect until he proved himself in his profession. until then though it was public debate over his existence. imagine your classmate getting up and arguing you shouldn’t be alive. and the only person who’s disagreeing with her is her brother. WHICH.
next point: spock ‘when i feel friendship for you i feel ashamed’ has longtime childhood friends he still keeps in contact with? obsessed. what’s this? you’re not going to include him in the narrative? bro. varen is apparently spock’s only friend from way back and this isn’t even talked about. it’s basically just the reason why valek was angry with spock as kids but she already didn’t like him so it wasn’t like her brother and spock being friends was a catalyst. what i’m getting at is that this author put SO MANY interesting things in the story and then just didn’t use them. ACTUALLY GOING OFF THAT
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obsessed when novels mention sybok. this one’s especially interesting as according to her, sybok was seen as better than spock. in the final frontier novel it went that sybok felt like an outcast already, and was noticeably more emotional than other vulcans. spock, who assimilated and became as vulcan as possible to offset being half human, was still seen as less? insanity. i just feel like there’s so much going on here talking about spock’s childhood and then when you read the end of the savage trade spock’s just chillin with ben franklin absolutely uncaring (which good for him. if i met a childhood bully who was now everything she bullied ME for? i would be ruthless. spock elects to lose to benny frank in chess multiple times so he’s above all that)
anyways there was so much the author could have done with valek because she was really really interesting but her and spock almost never interact and it ends up falling pretty flat. LOST OPPORTUNITIES, like pretty much every star trek book in existence
ok one final thing the spock and varen being vulcan lab partners thing was really cute
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#sorry i literally want to tear this book apart with my teeth THERE WAS SO MUCH THAT COULD HABE BEEN EXPANDED UPON#and yet the runtime is filled with kirk and valek trying to get togethr 💀#also like half the plotlines of the first half of the book were completely dropped in the end this was NOT a well written book but bro#whatever happened with valek and spock and varen was ten thousand times more interesting#especially if we wanna discuss spock having a single friend from childhood he still keeps in contact with#i think that’s nice that’s something i want for spock even if it doesn’t really fit his character as someone who felt so alienated from v#vulcans that he ended up in starfleet#i would love to read abt him and varen what do they talk about? apparently varen attended the VSA so#they send their upcoming papers back and forth for editing and in the space version of google doc comments they drop all the drama from#their respective workplaces#ok fr tho i think this part of the book would have benefitted from valek and spock having more interactions. i mean she’s REALLY out here#acting very human and the FIRST thing she does is get on his case about FRIENDSHIP? when literal chapters later she commits the same crime!#i KNOW its bad writing bc in what world would spock admit to having friends but BRO. in the context of the story taking it at face value BRO#also. it was kinda funny that in the beginning of the book kirk is so wow mr spock its like we have a consistent and ongoing mindmeld we’re#so in synch <3#and then turns around and falls in love with this woman because she’s sooo vulcan#sorry! it’s funny to me. what do you really want sir 🤔#ok kidding i thought the valek / kirk thing was kinda sweet#i need to annotate this book and everything because the only thing mccoy did this whole story was have crazy sex with the ex gf of the#guy who wrote candid which. not my fav of the high school lit but#there was a slavery plot that mostly got dropped with the two alien races from the beginning#i think if i could rewrite any book it would be this one because it was THERE IT WAS ALL THERE. it just needed the talent and the time#okokok im done. for now#captain’s log#trek books#tos
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starryluminary · 3 months
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♪ Jane Doe - Alicia Keys
The EX Files finally!! The episode where Cody and Noah face the consequences of their actions (the consequences they frankly don't deserve)
I hope this is coherent. I had to add and change some things last second to tie it together and I reeeeally hope I managed to have it read well
Notes about this episode under the cut! (There’s extra detail I couldn’t fit in the doodles and needed context for future episodes, so skimming them is recommended!)
* (It’d be funny if Noah had a black eye this episode from Sierra’s backhand.)
* It starts off with Sierra crying and Courtney and Heather making Cody comfort her, which he does reluctantly.
* Cody's not entirely sure what to say to try and calm her down, but she retorts with “Whatever… it’s not like you're in love with him.”
* Sierra looks back at him… and he’s frozen. He doesn’t know how to respond.
* Sierra can take a guess, though. “…No you aren't.” She harshly grabs him by the arms and yells at him, desperately, “NO YOU AREN'T!!”
* Heather grabs Sierra and Courtney grabs Cody to separate them. Cody promptly runs away and Sierra promptly gets yelled at by Heather (not because she cares, but because Cody being injured would make him a liability.)
* On Team Chris’s side, Alejandro, Owen, Duncan and Tyler are huddled discussing the incident. Owen tries his best to be on Noah's side, defending him, but Alejandro twists the story to paint Noah as the one in the wrong. Owen doesn’t want to admit he’s making sense. Duncan is completely against Noah, backing up Alejandro. Tyler however doesn’t participate until Noah gets fed up of the not-so whispering and storms out of first class.
* Cast regroups for the challenge rules and Noah joins Cody's side, quipping something I can’t remember. Cody quips back. Sierra pushes Noah to the ground in response, pretending to be in on the joke.
* The “Courtney throwing challenges” bit is replaced by Tyler watching/paying extremely close attention to Noah to determine if Noah’s situation is sympathetic or immoral. Noah gets more mad the longer the episode goes on cause Tyler isn’t exactly subtle.
* Cody finds the cloning pod and makes Alien Cody like in canon. [I’m making him a bit more curious and a bit less initially threatening, like he has Cody’s thoughts and opinions and feelings.] Alien Cody approaches the real Cody slowly, and Sierra finds them. She’s shocked at first: “Two Codys?” Then she starts wondering, and asks the Alien Cody a question. “Do… you love me?” Alien Cody sticks its tongue out at her and scurries away.
* Once Sierra and Cody are alone together, Sierra tells him she’ll forgive him. Cody is confused. Sierra explains. “Obviously Noah got into your soft, easily manipulated mind, and that was wrong of him!” She grabs Cody’s face. “But don’t worry.” She leans in and puckers her lips. Cody looks at her horrified. “I can fix it.”
* Before Noah and Cody find each other, Noah finds Alien Cody. He thinks it’s the real one at first, approaching it casually. He then notices the messy hair, green tinted skin and the eyes (which I’m making entirely black cause these are pencil drawings with no color) and becomes more cautious towards it. “You’re not Cody. What… are you?” ET finger touch.
* Duncan sees this from afar and yells at Noah: “Are you *seriously* messing with Cody right now?!” Noah tries to respond: “I’m not! This isn’t-“ Alien Cody interrupts him with a growl directed at Duncan. He charges towards him with malicious intent and Duncan punches him, making him explode into goop. Noah does not falter. “Way to kill our winning ticket, idiot.” Duncan does not hesitate. “I’ll kill you. I swear I’ll kill you.”
~ *[Events of the comic]* ~
* Team Amazon makes it back to Chris with an artifact first and win the challenge. Cody looks back at Noah (whose team was only slightly behind his own) sympathetically. Noah looks back with understanding. I want to say Sierra’s slightly too loud and exited about NOT the Amazons winning, but of team Chris losing. Tyler (who’s paying way too much attention now) notices and comes to a conclusion.
* Owen gets voted off this episode for being dead weight, and he and Noah hug before he jumps. Owen tells Noah to “win for him” and Noah replies that he makes no promises… but he’ll try.
Sorry that’s. Like a lot. The story kinda got away from me
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abyssruler · 2 years
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archons ft. reincarnation (part 2)
venti, zhongli, raiden ei x gn!reader
summary: it’s difficult to find a balance between grieving you and loving you, but somehow, they make it work.
word count: 5.8k
note: as requested by an anon, here’s part two of archons ft. reincarnation! a bit more lighthearted compared to the first part, but still plenty of angst around *side-eyes venti’s part* and i am once again being biased by giving ei the happiest ending
warning/s: spoilers for venti’s story quest, brief descriptions of past character death (reader), angst, read part one first for more context!
part one
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VENTI
“What do you think of the Anemo Archon?”
“Lord Barbatos?” you ask, and Venti tries to ignore the way his heart leaps at the sound of his name on your lips, but it’s difficult to do so when you’re sitting there looking at his statue with the same wistful look you used to don as you spoke about freedom. It warms his heart to know that you associate freedom with him.
You turn your head away from the visage of the Anemo Archon, placing your hands behind your head and laying down the palms of his statue. The sight is endearing, once he considers how your roles have changed. Before, it was him who fit snugly in the palm of your hands. How the tables have turned. How he wishes it never did.
“I think he’s a bit overrated.”
Your words singlehandedly snap him out of his reverie. So absurd and surprising coming from you that a laugh escapes before he can stop it.
He knows he should probably be offended or something, but Venti agrees with you. He is a little overrated. Who knew sleeping for hundreds of years on end could make a person like him so revered? Perhaps Morax should take a leaf from his book.
“He is, isn’t he?” he says after his laughter dies down, watching you rest in the palm of his statue’s hands, as free as you always wanted to be. He wants to save this memory in a bottle and immortalize it for eternity.
“I didn’t really mean it in a bad way,” you explain. “I do like Lord Barbatos.” He tries, he really tries, but it’s difficult to keep his heart still when you say such words so casually. “I just think people shouldn’t only focus on him.”
His brows furrow. He didn’t think the people of Mondstadt only focused on him, there was Vennessa and—
“He led Mondstadt against tyranny, but he wasn’t alone, you know? Besides Vennessa, who else’s name is written in the history books who fought alongside him?” You turn to him at the end of your question.
He can tell you each of their names by order of birth, by order of age, by order of the time they died—but that isn’t what you’re asking of him.
Besides Vennessa, who else’s name is written in the history books who fought alongside him?
Perhaps this is another one of his failings as an Archon. How many does that make now?
Too much to count.
When he remains silent, you shake your head almost sadly. “No one. And I think that’s just a little unfair for them who died, only for the people they died for to forget them.”
He stares at you, your words echoing in his mind. And there’s a lump forming in his throat and something clawing in his chest to break free.
I remember! he wants to say, but the words are stuck in his throat. I remember you, I remember Amos, I remember Venti, I remember all of them!
But it would be unfair of him to reveal this to you when he vowed to keep you unburdened by the past. So instead, he lies down beside you, mirroring your position and watching the blue sky that you once longed to see two thousand and six hundred years ago. How funny, the way fate works. He never thought he’d get to watch the sky with you again.
“Maybe that’s why Lord Barbatos doesn’t come down to Mondstadt often,” he starts, voice uncharacteristically solemn. You turn your head to him curiously, but he keeps his eyes trained to the sky, because he might just break if he meets your eyes while speaking a truth known only to him. “Because he remembers, and maybe it’s too painful for him to see familiar places without the people he once knew.”
Only the sound of people below the statue can be heard after his brief explanation.
You’re quiet. Too quiet, that it almost makes him regret saying such words. Did he give out too much information? Was his voice too melancholic? Have you seen through the mask he wears and found out who he really is? (And is that hope blooming in his chest at the thought of you discovering his identity?)
But then you speak up, and your words relieve him as much as they pain him.
“Do you think he’s lonely?”
Is he lonely?
Yes.
“Maybe,” he shrugs, and it takes all he has to feign nonchalance, when all he wants is to collapse in your arms and never let go.
You shake your head fondly at his vague answer. “You seem to know a lot about Lord Barbatos.” Because I am him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought you were religious, Venti.”
Can he be considered religious if he’s the god of said religion? “I’m not though! Did it seem that way? Hehe, I guess I got you fooled.”
You crack a smile, he wishes the sight wasn’t so familiar. “Well, even if you were, I’d be the last person to judge you for it.”
Curiosity sparks inside him at your cryptic words. “And why is that?”
An embarrassed look crosses your face, and now he’s even more intrigued. He wonders… do you remember him, even just the tiniest bit?
And if you do, does he want you to remember him?
Yes.
No.
Maybe.
He’ll settle for a vague in between.
He scoots closer to you. You’ve got him curious, and now he’s never going to leave you alone until you tell him what it is. “Ohoho, is it an embarrassing reason? Is that why you won’t tell me?”
“No! Yes—I mean—” You sigh in defeat when you catch sight of the telltale look on his face that says he’s never going to drop this until you admit your secret. “Alright, I’ll tell you.”
Venti lets out a triumphant little laugh and moves closer to you, your arms nearly squished together with your proximity. He tries to focus on how warm you feel, to really ground himself in this reality where you’re alive and well and warm, not cold and limp and dying.
“So?” he prompts.
You take a deep breath like you’re preparing to go to war. He finds it amusing how worked up you are because of this, ignoring the familiarity of the sight from when you were actually about to go to war two thousand and six hundred years ago. Your warrior, you told Venti as you donned your armor and smiled like it wasn’t the last day of your life.
“Don’t ever tell this to anyone, but…” you trail off, and he leans close to hear what you have to say. “When I was a child, I used to have the biggest crush on Lord Barbatos.”
Venti thinks his ears must be deceiving him.
“Uh, could you repeat that for me?”
You groan, covering your face with your hands to hide your embarrassed look. “I, I used to…” You peek through your fingers and see the wide grin forming on his lips. “Ugh. I know you heard me loud and clear, Venti! Don’t make fun of me!”
He isn’t. He really, really isn’t.
“You had a crush—” on me.
“Yes, I used to! It’s weird, I know, but…” you sigh, gazing wistfully at the sky. “I had a dream when I was a kid. It’s a bit blurry now, but in that dream, Lord Barbatos was holding me in the middle of… a war, I think. I don’t really remember much, or even what he looks like or how I even knew it was Lord Barbatos—but the way he held me in that dream… it brought comfort to me whenever I felt alone as a kid.”
The look in your eyes is reminiscent of your dying gaze thousands of years ago.
He can’t breathe.
You’re saying something to him, but he can’t hear past the wind rushing through his ears.
You remembered. You had dreamt it.
The only time he’s ever held you back then was when you were dying in his arms, having just taken the form of his friend after watching him die. Cradling you in arms that feel foreign and strange to a wind sprite like him, but forcing his newly formed limbs to obey because he couldn’t—
He couldn’t let you die feeling like you were alone.
Comfort, you said. It brought you comfort to be held in his arms. In your last dying moments, he managed to bring you even the smallest sense of comfort.
And it’s like a weight has been lifted off his chest.
Venti rolls over, slinging an arm over you and burying his face in your shoulder. You’re startled, but you still reciprocate his embrace.
“Venti…?”
“This was supposed to be a date,” he says, voice muffled just the way he wants to hide the shakiness in his tone, “But instead, you’re talking about some guy who isn’t me.” He should be taken to the courts of Fontaine for saying such an awful lie.
You huff in amusement. “Are you really getting jealous of a god?”
“Yes.”
You laugh, smoothing your hand over his hair. He leans into the familiar gesture. “Well, don’t. It’s not like he’s suddenly going to come down from Celestia and steal me from you just because he heard I had a little crush on him when I was young.”
He won’t because he already has.
“He might though,” Venti says petulantly. “I don’t trust the guy.”
“He’s literally our Archon?”
“But have you seen his face? He looks extremely untrustworthy.” It should be illegal to have this much fun slandering himself. He can’t help it though, it’s the lightest he’s felt since the fall of Old Mondstadt.
“The statues don’t even have his precise features, but from what I’ve seen…” A sly smile forms on your lips. “I think he’s pretty cute.”
Venti laughs, ignoring the pinkness of his cheeks at the unintentional compliment. “If the nuns heard you call Barbatos cute, they might just crucify you.”
“Not if they crucify you first for calling him untrustworthy,” you quip with a grin.
“Then it’s a good thing they’ll never know.”
You turn your head to his statue, a frown forming on your face. “Do you think he’ll curse us? You know, for kinda making fun of him.”
“Nope!” A gust of wind comes with his voice. “Personally, I think he’d find it rather funny.”
“I hope so.” A breathtaking smile forms on your lips. “But if he does decide to curse us, at least we’ll be cursed together.”
He hopes you never find out how true your words are. How he’s cursed you just by the simple act of loving you. Knowing you though, you’ll only shake your head at him and say how you didn’t mind being cursed.
At least we’ll be cursed together.
Venti vows to tell you the truth someday, but for now, he’ll bask in the bliss that ignorance provides and remain oblivious to the storm brewing in the sky.
He never did get the chance to tell you how much you meant to him.
It weighs on his mind, even after hundreds of years. He spent most of it asleep while the world changed around him, awakening every now and then to wander Mondstadt in the hopes of finding the barest glimpse of you, but all he found was grief as he walked through places you once occupied.
Hope was a dwindling thing in his chest.
Now here he is, standing below an awning to hide from the sun’s merciless rays, waiting for this era’s mode of transportation to arrive.
A series of frantic taps on his shoulder startle him. Turning his head, he finds himself face to face with an image that leaves him both relieved and anguished.
“Hi! Sorry to bother you, but my phone just died and I really need to call my friend for something important!”
At least we’ll be cursed together.
Well, Venti thinks, frozen in place as you look at him with wide, hopeful eyes, third time’s the charm, isn’t it?
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ZHONGLI
You stop, glancing over your shoulder and narrowing your eyes.
“Hey, I know you’re out there! Come out before I call the Millelith on you for stalking!”
Silence. You scan over the area again, finding nothing but trees and the occasional bird landing on a branch. It could just be your imagination playing tricks on you, but you know there’s someone out there. You’ve felt them since you stepped into this mountain to pick herbs for a commission you got.
They don’t really have any malicious intent, or at least, you don’t think they do. You’d think a person following you would have bad intentions, but so far, they seem to be content with watching from afar.
There were times when it seemed like the wind suddenly picked up, coincidentally helping you from dropping the basket of herbs in your hands, but you decided to brush it off as nothing but coincidence. This is a mountain range after all, wind currents aren’t all that uncommon.
A part of you did wonder whether it was your stalker who did that, but what kind of stalker helps the person they’re stalking?
“Fine, if you won’t show yourself, then I’ll make you show yourself,” you mutter beneath your breath. A breeze brushes past you afterwards, somehow carrying the scent of qingxin and…almonds?
Weird.
You decide to ignore it and continue down the well-worn path leading to the foot of the mountain, keeping an eye out for your mysterious stalker.
Passing by an intersection, you pause as you see a hilichurl camp by the distance.
An idea starts to form in your head.
“Hey, you know, if you don’t show yourself, I might just walk into that hilichurl camp over there!” No response. “The mountain is so vast and big, I think I’m getting lost,” you say, feigning distress in your voice. Never mind that you’ve gone through this mountain enough times to be familiar with it.
Still nothing.
Well, they’re certainly stubborn.
You pretend to look between each path in the intersection with confusion. “Oh, I forgot which way I went from, how about I ask those hilichurls over there for some directions?”
Just when you think they’re about to appear in front of you, you remain standing alone, looking rather stupid for talking to yourself. You pray to all the gods and adepti that Hu Tao never hears of this incident.
Fine. It seems you’re gonna have to do this the hard way.
Your steps are sure as you make your way to the hilichurl camp. Maybe you’re being stupid and rash, barging into a hilichurl camp because you think someone is following you. What do you even expect your stalker to do after you put yourself in danger, save you?
Yes.
You don’t know where this sudden confidence came from, but a part of you just knows that they’ll keep you safe—even if it’s completely absurd to think of considering they’re, well, stalking you.
This is probably a result of eating so much of Hu Tao’s suspicious cooking, but hey, you’re here now and there’s no going back.
A harsh breeze blows past you, almost like a warning, ruffling your hair and nearly sending the basket of herbs in your hand flying in the air. Oh, now this is your stalker.
You can’t help the grin that comes to your face. Just a little bit more and they might finally show up. You take another step, the hilichurl camp within hearing distance, the samachurl looking up from the bonfire and into your direction—
And then a hand clamps around your arm and pulls you out of sight.
The world blurs around you, and you shut your eyes to keep away the dizziness threatening to overcome your senses. When you come to, you’re finally face to face with the person who’s been following you from the moment you stepped within range of the mountain.
A frown mars his deceptively young looking face. “You are still as reckless as ever.”
You blink, the words that you’ve been preparing earlier stuck to your throat as you gaze at this boy (not a boy, your mind supplies, but you can’t help but think of him as one) who is both familiar yet not.
“Do I know you?” is what you end up saying.
Your words seem to stump him. He averts his gaze, something heavy brewing in his eyes. You don’t know how you can read a stranger like him so easily, especially since he looks passive from an outsider’s point of view, but it feels like you’ve known him your whole life.
It’s strange.
The only people that have ever made you feel like this are Zhongli, the kind Madame Ping, and the Tianquan’s overworked secretary who used to bow in deference to you until you told her it was unnecessary and a little weird.
“…No,” he says after a few moments.
You place a hand on your hip, like a parent about to scold their child. “Then why were you following me, huh?”
“I wasn’t…” he starts but then seems to realize how much of a lie that is, since he’s been stalking you for the last few hours. “I only meant to keep you safe.”
“I don’t even know who you are,” you point out.
“Yes, I know.” And something about the way he said it seems almost… sad. Melancholic.
You tilt your head, wondering why a stranger like him being sad somehow matters to you. “What’s your reason for stalking me, then?”
“Stalking—” He turns to you with furrowed brows, his tone almost offended. “I was not. My… master, asked of me to keep you safe, and I am bound by my contract to obey his word.”
“Uh-huh, sure, and it sounds like your master doesn’t know I’m taken. So if he’s trying to win me over by sending people to stalk me, tell him it won’t work.”
He tilts his head curiously, the action almost eerily similar to a bird’s. “Taken…?”
“Yes, taken. It means I’ve got a partner, love of my life, that sorta stuff,” you explain, keeping your voice light like you’re speaking to a child.
Understanding seems to dawn on him. “I see, so it must be…”
“Must be what?” you prompt.
He shakes his head, turning away from you and beginning to walk down the path you abandoned earlier in favor of going to the hilichurl’s camp. “A slip of the tongue. You need not worry yourself over it.”
You hurry to catch up to him, careful not to spill any of the herbs in the basket. For such a short person, he sure does walk really fast.
“Oh, I haven’t asked you yet, but what’s your name? You know, so I don’t keep referring to you as stalker in my head.”
He glances at you from the corner of his eyes, watching the way you smile at him so casually. Had it been any other person, they would have been suspicious, would have interrogated him of his intentions, would have found the act of him following and watching them from afar disturbing instead of simply amusing.
(You are far too trusting. He wishes you weren’t, perhaps then, you would have lived longer a thousand years ago.)
“Xiao.”
“Xiao,” you repeat, finding the name flowing from your tongue much smoother than you thought it would. Familiar.
You grin at him and tell him your own name, to which he lets out a hum and says he already knows. You resist the urge to tease him for it, saying how much he sounded like a stalker just then.
For the rest of the trip down the mountain, you animatedly try to make conversation with him. He always responds with short answers, formal with a hint of softness lingering in his tone. You can tell that he’s trying to keep as much information close to his chest as possible, but that was fine, you have a feeling you’ll be seeing more of him in the future anyway.
When you reach the foot of the mountain, you bid him goodbye.
“Well, this was a fun trip, but I can handle myself from this point onwards.” Your hand moves before you can stop it, landing on the top of his head and giving it a few pats. You send him a smile, unusually soft and almost… parental. “Thanks for protecting me, Xiao.”
He nods stiffly, unable to look you in the eye even after your hand returns to your side.
“I’ll be going now,” he tells you before disappearing in a whirl of black mist and anemo.
“He was weird, but also kinda sweet? In a strange I-just-ate-one-of-Hu-Tao’s-cooking kind of sweet, you know?”
“No, I do not,” Zhongli says, amusement evident in his tone. “I do know, however, that the gentleman you met earlier was an adeptus.”
You jaw drops, nearly dropping your cup of tea. “What?!”
He nods. “Xiao is quite an interesting fellow. I am sure you two would get along well.”
“Wait a minute…” You watch him suspiciously, eyes narrowed. “Are you the master Xiao spoke of?”
“I’m afraid I do not know what you mean. Why would an adeptus call a mortal such as myself his master?” He takes a sip off his own tea. “Hmm, this tea is truly worthy of its reputation. High quality indeed.”
“Stop trying to change the subject!”
“Haha, was I? I don’t recall doing such a thing,” he says, feigning ignorance. You glare at him. “Although, I do recall an interesting conversation I had earlier. I am quite flattered to be called the love of your life, if my acquaintance is to be believed.”
“So you are Xiao’s master!”
“I never referred to him as my servant, merely an acquaintance,” he rebukes.
You continue to stare at him with narrowed eyes, not believing a word of what he just said.
You’ve had your suspicions. The pieces have practically been spoon fed to you from the moment you met him.
His seemingly endless amount of mora. The timing of his so-called retirement coinciding with the death of Rex Lapis. The archaic way he spoke and his general knowledge of history that not even most historians knew of.
He had been calm, too calm, when Osial was released from his seal. Almost nonchalant if not for the way he held you so tightly until the skies cleared and the Jade Chamber fell from the sky. You’ve never caught even the slightest hint of fear in his eyes, but in that moment, it was the closest thing you’ve ever come to seeing it.
He’d made you wait outside of the Northland Bank as he did whatever he needed to do—finalize my retirement, he said—and when a lady covering half of her face came out, she seemed to look at you like she knew more than she let on.
“Be wary when dealing with gods and illuminated beings,” she told you cryptically, to which you’d looked at her strangely for.
“That’s a given, isn’t it?”
She had smiled coyly at your answer and bid you farewell, disappearing in a flash of flames like a witch from one of Mondstadt’s tales.
Then Zhongli came out to see you not too long after.
“Childe has told me that it is custom these days to take the person you admire out for a ‘date’. Would an afternoon drinking osmanthus wine be considered one?” And all thoughts about your previous conversation with the mysterious lady disappeared.
After that first ‘date’, you vowed to never again take another sip of that awful, awful drink they call osmanthus wine. But when he comes up to you, asking you to accompany him for another afternoon session of drinking, you find that you can’t say no.
It tastes the same as I remember.
What exactly does he remember? Was it a memory from a week ago—
Or a memory from a thousand years ago?
Maybe you’re looking too deep into it. Maybe everything is all just a coincidence. But you’ve always trusted your instincts, and your instincts are telling you that Zhongli is more than just the mortal man he says he is.
But then you look at him, see him sipping his tea without a care in the world, unburdened, and you can’t bring yourself to voice your suspicions.
So what if he really is Rex Lapis?
Whether he’s the Geo Archon or Zhongli or Morax, your feelings will never change.
In this life or the next.
You pick up your cup of tea and take a sip. “You know, I think I prefer osmanthus wine.”
He looks at you, curious at the sudden change. “I thought you disliked the taste? Your expressions made it rather clear.”
He was right, it did taste gross, but…
“Yeah, but you like it, right?” you say, staring into your cup and fighting the heat making it’s way to your cheeks. “So, um, if it’s for you, then I won’t mind much if it’s what we drink. It does taste a bit better these days.”
(“It makes me wanna barf!” you said, sticking out your tongue in disgust.
Morax stared down his cup. “I see. I apologize for making you drink it.”
You saw the look on his face and hastily backtracked. “I mean, I guess it’s not that bad. If I’m with you, then it tastes a little less gross.” To prove your point, you took a large sip and tried not to let your true feelings show on your face. “Mm, see? T-Tastes better now…”)
Some things change and some stay the same.
Zhongli smiles at the old memory and hopes you’ll remain with him longer this time.
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EI
“You wrote a book for me?”
You grin, not a hint of embarrassment on your face as you slid the light novel across the table towards her. “Your Eternal Excellency seemed to like the book I suggested months ago, so I thought, why don’t I write something she’ll like? And so I stayed up many nights to finish this! It’s also a gift to show my thanks for the gracious gift you gave me last month!”
Ei looks down at the cover of the book. It is a depiction of her in a colorful kimono next to a person who looks eerily like you. Reading the title, she has to fight the blush that threatens to rise from her cheeks as she reads it.
Suddenly Woke Up To An Arranged Marriage With The Raiden Shogun!
Quite… unconventional. And long.
This feels like one of her devious friend’s plots.
“Did Miko ask you to write this?”
You tilt your curiously. “Miss Yae? Oh, she didn’t! She was actually quite surprised when I sent in this novel for editing. Although she did say it was quite a fun read!”
So it was of your own volition that you wrote this. Well, she supposed she shouldn’t have expected anything less. Only you would be so bold as to write such a thing and have the confidence to come to the Tenshukaku to personally give it to her.
She feels something like amusement creeping up her chest. Five centuries and another five hundred years of being without you, but never once has she forgotten how daring you can be. For once, she is thankful that news have spread about her favor towards you. You would not have been allowed entry to the Tenshukaku by the soldiers otherwise.
When her silence remains even after you’ve finished regaling her with how many times you sneaked in to explore the Tenshukaku to gain some much needed inspiration, she sees the slightest hint of apprehension appear in your eyes. She decides to nip it in the bud before you can begin to doubt yourself and close yourself off to her.
“The title is… interesting. I shall be sure to read it during my free time.”
The smile you give her manages to light up the entire room. Or perhaps it’s the sunlight coming from the open shoji screens. Ei can’t quite tell with how mesmerized she is by you.
“I’m glad Your Eternal Excellency likes it!” you chirp, hands clasped in front of you like a prayer. “I especially made sure to give you the first ever copy made, complete with my signature and personal note in the title page!”
She takes the book in her hands, handling it like it’s the most fragile glass. “Thank you. I shall treasure this for all of eternity.”
And she means it. A book you wrote specifically for her? She is already coming up with ideas on how to make it last the wear and tear of time. Perhaps she can preserve this by placing it in her Plane of Euthymia…?
“It is the greatest honor to have Your Eternal Excellency treasure something I wrote!”
Ei frowns. There it is again.
Your Eternal Excellency.
She has never thought much of the way her people addressed her, but perhaps this is an era for new things. When you call her so formally, it magnifies the distance between you, how nothing is truly the same as it once was despite the familiarity of each setting with you.
She doesn’t want you to keep calling her such a lengthy title, and yet she doesn’t have it in her to ask of you to refer to her as Ei.
Because you do not remember, and she doesn’t want to force you to call her a name she isn’t quite ready to hear from you in this era. To hear her name fall from your lips without the same lilting voice you once called her with—Ei, you used to say, honey dripping from your tone with a smile reserved only for the reclusive sister of your god—it is too soon.
A thousand years without you, and yet it is still too soon.
So she bids you farewell, ignoring the gobsmacked looks of her retainers when they see the Raiden Shogun personally escorting a guest out of the Tenshukaku—a guest who is not even a member of the nobility, merely a humble writer and editor of the Yae Publishing House.
But that isn’t quite right either.
You are more than just your life in this period, you were a warrior and a servant and a lover and everything good Ei can think of.
She thinks the only reason you haven’t been granted a vision in this life is because your old vision still remains with her. The first vision she embedded in the statue right at the very top, as dull and lifeless as you once were upon your death.
When you wave to her goodbye instead of bowing—a custom that people from Mondstadt use! you told her—she decides to wave back, uncaring of the wide-eyed looks of the shogunate soldiers lining the entrance of the Tenshukaku.
Ei sits down and reads your book.
What she reads is a rendition of your time together five hundred years ago, like something plucked from the recesses of her memories with only a few details embellished to stay true to this era.
She doesn’t get up until she’s read it twice and memorized each and every word and letter.
When you visit the Tenshukaku a week after you gave her your book, the first thing she does is ask, “Do you remember?”
You look at her with surprise. “Pardon, Your Eternal Excellency?”
She gazes down the book lying innocuously on the table between you. “Your book… it is like a walk through the past. It fills me with nostalgia for a time long gone.”
Silence. She raises her eyes and watches you fumble for an explanation.
“Oh. Well, to be honest, I never actually thought it up!” You grin, a little sheepish as you look down to your lap. “I just kind of wrote what was in my dreams. They’ve always been strange as far as I can remember.”
Dreams.
Dreams.
Ah, so you do not remember after all.
Disappointment weighs on her, heavy and burdensome. She shouldn’t have expected much, has she not learned that expectation comes with a great cost? And yet, it is difficult to remember all that she has learned when you sit in front of her.
Sometimes, all she wants is to take you with her and stop the impending fate that befalls all mortals, and sometimes she has to remind herself that she can’t do that, because your ephemerality is what makes you so incredibly you.
She is about to say something, to apologize for her confusing words, but then you speak up again, trying to lighten the mood.
“And it’s really funny, ‘cause I used to call Your Eternal Excellency Ei in those dreams!” You laugh, not noticing the way she stills.
Ei breathes in, breathes out.
One, two, three times.
“Say it again.”
You blink, unsure if you heard correctly. “Huh?”
“The name—my name, say it again,” she tells you, careful to keep the desperation from slipping into her tone.
You part your lips, “Ei?”
Ei? Is it really you?
She shakes off the memory of your ghost. “Again.”
“Ei,” you say, more sure of yourself this time.
(“Ei,” you called her, voice stern as you watched her exhaust herself in training.)
“Again,” she asks, unable to hide the way her eyes shine with a sheen of unshed tears. They will not fall, she knows, but she still berates herself for her lack of control.
Your eyes soften, hands reaching over the table as if to hold her own—only to stop midway, remembering that this is not a dream.
What comes out of your mouth is a sound taken right from the past.
“Ei.”
(Ei, you used to say, honey dripping from your tone with a smile reserved only for the reclusive sister of your god)
She closes her eyes and savors the sound of her name. Five hundred years.
She was wrong. It was not too soon. It was too late.
Opening her eyes, she steels herself and finds the courage to do what she has been wanting to do from the moment she gave you that gift a month ago.
“Would you like to go out for a walk with me tomorrow? It is the season for cherry blossoms, and I have heard that the sight is quite lovely.”
Suddenly Woke Up To An Arranged Marriage With The Raiden Shogun!
Chapter 2, Page 23
The Raiden Shogun looked at me and said, “I heard from one of my handmaidens that tomorrow is when the cherry blossoms will start to bloom. If it is not too much trouble, will you accompany me for a walk around the city?”
I stared at her, my heart skipping a beat, and when I gave her my answer, there was an exhilarated smile on my lips that couldn’t be wiped away for the rest of the day.
“I would love to!”
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wolfstarshipping · 6 months
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wolfstar wips
So I'm using the @hprecfest day 12 prompt "a WIP you're following" to post a short rec list of WIPs that has been sitting in my drafts for so long now I even had to remove a fic that had been finished in the meanwhile!
Something rotten in Grimmauld Place by @plecotusauritus (8,802 words, Hamlet AU) This is a wolfstar Hamlet AU, need I say more?? I've never much cared or thought about Hamlet since I read it in school but this fic (almost) makes me want to reread Hamlet and I can't wait to see where the story goes next, I love the atmosphere this fic captures, the lovely writing style and just seeing all these characters we know so well fit into the plot of Hamlet is so, so cool!!
the oldest recipe for parsnip soup by @eyra (10.639 words, modern AU, christmas fic) Getting another fic by eyra for the holidays has been such a wonderful treat! I love the whole setting and the characters of this fic so much already, especially Sirius!! And the writing and all the descriptions are so, so beautiful, as always, highly recommend checking it out!!
Welcome to Aphrodite by @de-sire-blog & @rhabarberjunge (18.957 words, magical AU, secret identities) this is one of those fics I've read a while ago, but I keep thinking about it because I loved it so much. I don't want to give away too much of the plot, but the premise is Sirius finding a hidden, adults-only club that makes people's secret desires come true, and of course Sirius's secret desire is Remus... It's hot, it's fun, and it's incredibly angsty, I love it.
Stitched into My Skin by @squintclover (19.297 words, canon divergent AU, memory loss) I love the heartache and all the bittersweetness that comes with memory loss fics so much already, and I am so obsessed with the way it's been done in this fic. The premise of the fic is Peter casting a memory loss charm on Sirius on October 31st 1981, which leads to Remus raising Harry and randomly coming across Sirius years later, only Sirius doesn't remember him. I'm so intrigued by the first few chapters already and can't wait to see where the story goes next!
Marauder FM by @hollyivydruzy (26.402 words, modern AU, radio AU, enemies to friends to lovers) I know I've recced this fic before but I will never shut up about it because I love it, and especially this fic's Remus so, so much! It's an iconic, funny radio AU set in London, and I wish the radio shows from this fic were real because I would listen to Sirius's radio show every morning if I could. I just love the vibe of all of them working at the radio station together and the slow burn enemies to friends (to lovers) is so delicious!
The Patchwork of Us by @tracingpatternswrites (27.502 words, modern AU, enemies to lovers, co-parenting Teddy) This is such a lovely fic about Sirius and Remus navigating the difficult situation of co-parenting Teddy after Tonks dies, I love the domesticity and the enemies to lovers vibe of this fic so much!
The Picture of Sirius Black by @lynxindisguise (30.049 words, Dorian Gray AU) okay anyone who has ever seen my blog knows how much I love lynx's writing, which is why I am also obsessed with this fic, even though it's a genre I'm usually not that familiar with. It's a Dorian Gray AU, it's gothic horror but especially the first few chapters are also giving victorian romcom with murder sideplot vibes (and I mean this as the biggest compliment), this fic will make you laugh and cry and want to murder some of these characters yourself maybe.
Only Fools Are Satisfied by grumposaur (@pancakehouse) (38.353 words, modern AU, tennis AU). I really love the exploration of Sirius's family dynamics in the context of him being a professional athlete in this fic, and Remus with his tanlines and freckles is everything!!
Neon Moon by @krethes (47.698 words, modern AU, cowboy stripper Remus AU, Las Vegas) I didn't know how much I needed Remus to be a stripper and a cowboy before I read this fic, but now I do and I love him!! The whole premise of them meeting at a strip club while Sirius is out on James's bachelor party is so iconic, and the vibes of the fic are just overall excellent, highly recommend checking it out!
on another ocean by @colgatebluemintygel (118.148 words, modern AU, backpacking/interrail, friends with benefits) Where do I even start? This is an incredible fic, one of my all time faves, I've reread some of the chapters several times now and am so obsessed with this fic's Remus in his socks and sandals, driving Sirius crazy with lust. Also I will not spoil it for anyone who hasn't read it, but the scene in the budapest chapter in the club bathroom features one of my favorite Sirius moments of all time, across all universes haha.
marginalia by @spindrifters (266.547 words, magical AU, canon divergent AU - Grindelwald won, slavery AU) I'm having a hard time trying to put my love for this fic into words in just a short paragraph. This fic is so unique in its setting, and it's so beautifully written and asks & answers the question "what if Grindelwald had won?" in such an incredible, highly political and also very immersive way, if you haven't read it already I really recommend checking it out (as well as the already complete Tedromeda spinoff set in the same world, history books!!!).
Staying Strangers by 3amAndCounting (319,368 words, modern AU, texting fic, university AU). This is one of my comfort fics, I love a good texting AU, this is quite a popular fic anyways but if you haven't read it and like modern AUs & texting fics (though it isn't all just texting) go check it out!
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nexility-sims · 26 days
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𝐍𝐎. 𝟕   ❛ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜   |   AUGUST 1991
❧  𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲  /  𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠  /  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.
Trish Fitzpatrick wore many hats, but her favorite was “freelance journalist.” Her area of expertise grew directly out of myriad side gigs: what she called portrait pieces of interesting people. Outlets clamored for them—or, they had since she’d buttered up famous, neurotic opera singer-turned-starlet Prudence Boone into revealing she had a glass eye, a secret runaway daughter, and a hair-eating habit. Of course, Prudence was basically a stranger. They had once had a fifteen minute conversation on the deck of a yacht, bonding over the fact that neither actually knew to whom the vessel belonged. Prudence thought Trish’s outlandish suggestions were funny enough to remember her when she called to pitch the piece. It had gone the same way with Renzo. Of course, they had met while fighting over a scarf in a vintage clothing store. Trish considered letting him win to be a debt, one for which she would demand recompense at the ideal time. Opportunities passed, and then August 1991 proved to be the time.
❧ i got the irresistible urge to do renzo backstory, which was meant to be an outtake, but then i was like, "uh, no, this totally works as story proper if i put leonor in it," so here we are ! context and such. given the amount of work, this might be my magnum opus until further notice ... it was also just fun to do :^) checked off the sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll boxes ?? where's my prize. in conclusion, i love my white boy of the week or whatever
𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓
I grew up in a tiny town—Petunia. Petunia? You say it differently. It’s the country coming out, I guess. Not “pee-tyoon-ee-ah,” it’s “puh-toon-yuh.” Petunia. That’s it. So, how was it? Fond memories? In retrospect, maybe. I wanted to get the hell out of there from day one. What I remember is being very unhappy—dispositionally sullen, not just a pouty kid, but fully down and out. Born that way, probably. And your parents? My parents … Life had the upper hand, man. They were good at losing. I didn’t want that life.
My dad professed to be a traveling salesman—What, he wasn’t? I mean, he didn’t know jack shit about vacuums or whatever the fuck. I don’t know. But, he wasn’t around a lot, it sounds like? Gone for weeks at a time. Just me and my mom. How was she? Not really there either. When I got home from school, she’d pop her pills and be gone until morning. She wasn’t avoiding me; she was avoiding life. She did what she had to do in the mornings—you know, I had what I needed, the bare essentials—but she was checked out. You had a lot of unsupervised time, then. Oh, did I. Too much. I mean, I had books to read, and I got into music early—From her? No. My dad’d blow into town and bring pity gifts. Not kid-appropriate shit, now that I think about it. Heavy, gritty stories. A guitar I was too little to use. Flip lighter. But, you know, I was a kid. I wanted to run and play with everyone else, too. Of course.
Here’s the thing: it was hard to be a scrawny kid named Lorencio in Petunia. Shit, I can imagine. What was that like? … Hard, like I said. Well—Details? I got the shit kicked out of me. Regularly. What do they call it—um—“school of hard knocks”? Yeah. I remember, one time, I limped home on a Saturday. Mom was out of it, but she leapt up when she saw all the blood. Cleaned me up. It’s like I’m there now—in that bathroom with the dirty tile, her burning me with peroxide … She didn’t really talk, you know, not in a serious way? But she did then? She said, in Uspanian, “‘Don’t roll over for anyone.’” Interesting. So, that’s the lesson? Part of it. I realized that summer it didn’t matter if you were scrawny, if you talked funny, if you were poor. What mattered was not being a pussy. [Laughs] Oh, yeah? If you want credibility, if you want respect, sometimes you gotta be able to take a beating. Don’t roll over. That’s right.
I think it also helped when the growth spurt hit. You must’ve still been scrawny. [Laughs] String bean. So it goes. Adolescence . Now, you grew up fast, is what I’ve heard. You could say that. My life changed when Marty got out of lock-up—Sorry, what?—for “teen offenders”; he set his grandparents’ car on fire—oh, I see, regular kid shit—Uh huh. We hit it off. He introduced me to other guys, including Jesse. They’d huff gas together. Oh my God. Not whippits? Sure, but less convenient. That’s—No good, yeah. Fun though. Have you—? I’ve tried everything, Patricia.
Jesus! So, Marty and Jesse…? We got on like a house fire. [Groans] They were into petty crime for the thrill of it—Now, Renzo, is arson petty? He did it one fucking time. Everyone overreacted. They got into trouble for fun, and for you it was—? Money. Not a lot. I was too dumb to consider the risks. But, you did other things for money, too? Don’t say it like that. I wasn’t hooking. [Snorts] I worked a lot. I was cutting school to work, getting paid under the table, all of that. Maybe—hear me out—some of it was thrilling for you, too? I won’t tell anyone. [Chuckles] What can I say? Credibility.
I feel like I’m mischaracterizing … I love Marty and Jesse, to this day. Jesse’s daughter is your godchild, right? Yeah. Marty went back to Petunia in … ‘88? Jesse and I had better luck, or maybe we were just more desperate. Either way, my point is that delinquents get a bad rap—With good reason! Sure, okay. Both of them were deeper and more complicated than that. You’re not an outlier. No. We’re a dime a dozen. No one gives them the chances you got. Uh huh. So, we bonded over that—feeling down and out, like I said, but also the fact that we loved music. Marty’s family had money, so they’d bought him a nice bass guitar. But, Jesse’s mind … He’s so fucking creative. He wasn’t a reader, but I could tell him about something I’d been chewing on, and he’d have a song inspired by it within the hour. He has an incredible voice, too. He does.
I guess it’s not surprising that you guys did what you did. There was nothing for us at home, you know? Packing up and heading out west didn’t feel like a risk. And your mom understood that? Better than anyone. I know people judged her—shit, I judge her, too—but I always knew she was trying. That’s sweet. Is it? I mean, I think so … She met my dad at a bus stop three weeks after she arrived in the country and made the mistake of getting off at his stop. That’s it. That was her crime. Well, I’m sure she’s doing better now, huh? She lives in a nicer house in a nicer city, but that doesn’t cure depression, now does it? I suppose not. There was this woman whose lawn I’d cut all the time … A real bitch, but she was extra nice because she felt bad for me. Hated my mother. I think she was just jealous because my dad was her high school sweetheart. Isn’t that just how it goes? Damn foreigner stealing a real catch from her. [Scoffs] Sticky fingers when she invited me inside for lemonade—cigs and quarters from her purse, Valium from the cabinet, that kind of thing. [Laughs] Casual. It was pretty brazen, honestly. Fucking dumb kid.
Alright, so, you come out here with Marty and Jesse to make music, and now you’re a serious actor with a name and a big career ahead of you. How’d that happen? It was completely accidental. While we waited for a record deal, I did odd jobs, like auto work—you know, in a body shop. It was decent. Had you worked on cars before that? So, I got familiar, uh … [Chuckles] We’ve established I was a rascal. We could get under the hood of a parked car and make a few dollars off parts. I can get you in so much trouble, Renzo! [Laughs]
Don’t tell anyone, come on! I was a kid. Have a heart. I guess it paid off. But, alright, body work? What’s the connection? It’s kind of convoluted. When business was slow, the guy I worked for loaned his employees out to another mechanic. This guy, long story short, brought me along to assist him on a movie set. I guess he was a known quantity? Everyone knows the right guy! That’s everyone’s explanation for where they end up. Me, too. Uh huh. I don’t know why they let me do it, but—Somehow it worked out. Yeah, it did. Right place, right time.
You’re in the spot. How did you get into it, though? This is embarrassing as hell but, fuck it, I’ll be honest. Please. Don’t stop now. [Chuckles] I got a shot because I’d been chatting up this girl who, as it turns out, was the director’s kid—or, in fact, she approached me. I had no idea who she was or why she was there. Of course she did! That’s not surprising, is it? I think I was the most disinterested person there. I don’t know. Anyway, we talked a couple times, then—out of the blue—someone asked me if I wanted to hop into a scene, say a line, ten seconds flat. She did that for you? I don’t know what she did. No one mentioned her. Maybe she thought you looked like a movie star. [Snorts] Fuck. I hope not. Did you want to do it? I wanted to make music. I wanted to finish reading my book. I wanted … I mean, I said yeah. Can’t decline that. Makes a good story, right? What happened with her—? Oh, hell. Sorry! Moving on, for now. [Groans]
I got a call several weeks later about an audition. How did that feel? Bizarre. We’d done a demo for a producer once, but this was different. Were you excited? I was terrified. But, I went. Didn’t get that part, although everyone was perfectly nice to me. How disappointing. You always remember your first … But, hey, you have to look at it this way: I didn’t want to be an actor. I thought it was cool, but it felt like … ? Go ahead, give me a good metaphor. Like when you’ve been craving your favorite food, but then someone offers you a helping of something different, new, appetizing. How’s that? Passable. C-plus. [Laughs] Fuck you, Pat.
Okay, so the road didn’t end there. No, it didn’t. I got another call, and that one went well. This was for … Sugar Sweet? That’s the one. Cornball, but I love that movie. Never seen it. What! How is that possible? You were in it. You went to the premiere screening. There are pictures. Saw my first scene, excused myself to go piss, didn’t come back until the applause had started. Wow. Everyone has opinions about that movie these days—very contentious, whether or not Alicia was in the wrong when she left me and stole my lifelong dream. What do you think? Me, Renzo? Good for her. I thought it was kind of bitchy. It’s peculiar how many women say that. I wonder why … ! Billy’s so dreamy. Please, ask me about something else, Pat. So, this romantic comedy is your launching pad. It leads to the television show. The television show blows up immediately. Walk me through what that felt like?
Also terrifying. I really cannot emphasize enough that I didn’t want attention. I wanted money and time to support my music, and acting seemed like a good way to do that. Just didn’t account for the side effects. Like fame? Uh huh. I was a nobody in Sugar Sweet, and the pay was shit, but it felt like a miraculously good deal at the time. What it did is put me in the running for more serious work. I think, even then, sometimes the casting folks were hesitant to take a risk on someone with no experience whatsoever, even if they had—A spark? Talent? Sure. It was unsettling, the idea that I was some kind of “natural,” and I compensated by working really hard. Well, you’ve established yourself as a hard worker. Sure. I guess they saw that—the improvement, in addition to the fact that I had a resume to speak of by then. Or, eh, they saw that you were pretty. Right, of course, you don’t need talent if you have Teen Mag’s favorite cheekbones. [Snickers] I joined a cast with other people who had very little experience, and we bonded over that. I just didn’t expect to be … What, the center of attention? That, yeah.
You know what’s fucking weird? Huh? Signing your name on a picture of your own face that belongs to someone else. That they’re going to take it home and pin it to their fucking wall or frame it on their bedside table. Someone’s kid treating you like their school crush, blushing and shit while they’re asking for you to do it. That does seem like a strange experience. Over and over again. Teenyboppers, goddamn. You were in the magazines for them. I read a couple interviews. No the fuck I was not. I did not do those. No? What they do is take quotes from actual, consented conversations and stitch them together for their own use. It’s legal. That’s fascinating. Maybe I should try that. Less work. [Laughs] Yeah, alright, flush your “exclusive access” privilege right down the toilet.
But, look, I’m not disparaging the fans wholesale. That’d be unfair. And, ouch, ungrateful? Yeah. The initial couple years were fucking insane, but I was with people I liked, and a lot of the fans we actually met were … Normal? Uh huh. Not a hysterical, handsy, screaming blob. You got grabbed? Groped, Pat. Oh boy. We don’t like grabass, I guess. Well, hold on now, just not like that—You keep sidetracking me. What kind of interviewer are you? I’m having fun with my buddy! Sue me. [Chuckles] You got it, baby. What was I saying? The fans? Yeah. The ones we met one-on-one were cool, usually. They had deep thoughts about the show, you know? Ideas about the characters, the plots—filled in holes in the shitty writing. No offense to Jack and Reuben, I hope! Don’t print that, Pat.
If I’m being honest, having to answer their questions made me think deeply about the role. That’s stayed with me. I don’t like being walked up on in public, but sometimes it’d go fine. The first time someone came up to me in the wild, her mother looked so fucking apologetic that I decided, “Cool it, don’t be a jackass.” She wanted to talk about the book I was buying. Same thing would happen to Frank, Perry, Vicky. How about the show itself? That was a three year commitment.
It was alright. In retrospect, I understand that television isn’t for respectable actors, which made the transition hard. Harder to have been on a show for teenagers. But, you made that switch in Uspana. So, did that play into the calculus at all? I lucked out, in the sense that the show was co-produced, and I got to do the dubbing for the Uspanian version. I wasn’t a total unknown, even if they thought my Uspanian was shitty. Is it? Losing an accent is hard, in my defense.
When my contract ended, I hit the road. You didn’t think about staying on? I thought about it with horror, yes. [Laughs] You’d keep shit-talking the whole production if I let you. Maybe. So, in Uspana? It was like exhaling for the first time in a while. I did nothing for a couple months. All that hard work, being a beloved TV star … Throw me a bone, Pat. But, anyway, I didn’t even see my mom’s family again for a few weeks—You knew them, though? Yeah, we’d met, during the press trips. Beach life by yourself. Luxury.
You know, I needed to reconnect with myself. That’s how I felt. I felt like I had been an imposter, then I felt like I had to be someone I wasn’t, and now … You could go a different way. A fork in the road, for your career. Your life, really. Right, yeah. I went to Canarís like any good tourist. I had more money than I’d ever had in my life. I had no plans. Sounds like a dream. It was.
Crucially, I was out of my mind most of the time. Kite high. So fucking high. I swear I almost drowned twice, at which point it was politely suggested that I stop using the pool. Did you politely agree? Fuck no. [Laughs] Troublemaking aside, I ended up taking phone calls, making plans with people—Industry people? Yeah. There were people I knew already, but meeting the ones I really wanted to work with happened kind of organically—parties, premieres for other films, cafes. At the Morningstar Cafe in Canarís? Right, exactly. Same way I ended up finding The Den. Someone at the cafe had worked with Karolina Teague, and she took me there one evening after we all got tossed out of some poor son of a bitch’s house. Sounds rowdy. Can’t blame him. It was after midnight. And? Well, it was a lunch that’d started at eleven in the morning, so. [Chuckles]
So, I have a question. You’re pretty consistent—in terms of behavior. “Behavior?” [Snorts] Yeah, okay, I understand. What was that like, with cameras on you? The photographers in Uspana definitely aren’t less aggressive. That’s part of it. I don’t know if I’d call it an epiphany, but I left Canarís for Nakawe with the understanding that I was going to just do what I wanted to do. Oh boy. Within reason, fuck. Reason. Sure, yes. You didn’t feel like a dumb kid anymore. I mean, I guess I have more fun with the camera guys here. They can get away with more, ergo, so can we.
I distinctly recall you got arrested for—I barely touched that guy or his fucking camera. Did him a favor, if I did. Dogshit quality device. [Chuckles] Not sure he saw it that way, but the charges were dropped. I mean, don’t get me wrong, shouldn’t have reacted that way. I kept thinking about my mom seeing those pictures … The one time I got picked up, she backhanded me in the middle of the station, right in front of the cops. Jesus. In the car, she goes, “If you get caught again, I’m going to rip your ears off.” Empty threat, I guess.
The Den—I want to talk about that. Please, let’s. Your first time there? It was with Karolina, like I said, and there was a local band playing that night. They’d wrapped up their set by the time we arrived and were just … jamming on the stage, taking feedback and requests from the people who were still there. Some kind of funky jazz mash-up. I liked it. How did it come to you? It opened in ‘57 as a bar and, at some point, it turned into more of a music venue open to a certain segment of Nakawe. The guy who owned it gave exposure to a lot of people who went on to really do something with their art, and that’s why it ended up being a somewhat exclusive spot. Celebrities already knew it and brought their friends. Uh huh. I could stroll up, and the cameras weren’t with me because they were already there. He got tired of that, I think—He was an older fella, right? Yeah. But, really, he managed other properties, and The Den wasn’t his passion project the way it’s become for me. So, you had the money and took it off his hands.
What goes on in there? [Laughs] Pat, you’ve been inside. Well, not for me! If I’m going to describe it to people who’ll never go inside, what would I say? I mean, it’s a hangout spot. It’s a performance venue. We had, uh, mimes last month. Truly gifted, those people. [Laughs] Really? I don’t come up with all of the ideas myself, but I only agree to the shit I’m interested in. It’s kind of selfish, but I guess I’m lucky to know a lot of people who’ll toss in five dollars to enjoy it. It’s something. Compelling. I mean it. Thanks. That’s not all, though. I mean, you describe it as a “haven.” It’s very private. Some of your regulars are troubled individuals. Damn, Patricia, just say it. I feel like a cop! “Do you condone drug use in your establishment?” nonsense. But, well … I’m not explaining it. Either you—they, whoever the hell—get it or don’t. Come for the music, come to unwind however you like, doesn’t fucking matter to me as long as you’re coming with an invitation. I like to go in the back room, close the door, let the music and noise seep through. Muffled. You don’t really strike me as a partier, frankly. You never have. I wouldn’t argue with that. I like parties, but I don’t need to be at the center. Some do. That’s fine. This place is for us all.
Maybe it works out because of that, that you’re curating this space but not necessarily always in it? What do you mean? Well, you reopened it and then, if memory serves, immediately went off to do a film. The party kept going. You just like to know it’s happening. Alright, sure. That’s true. Knowing it’s there … Yeah. I like it. I was in that back room, thinking about the script, when I decided to do it, actually. Life felt like it was falling into place. It was a good time to take a leap. “’You are going to be a cowboy?’” “’No, I’m going to be a farmer.’” I had that conversation a thousand times. Reporters, man. Hey! Everyone was so surprised. I think they thought the premise was … I don’t know, that it just wasn’t something I would want to do? Or, worse, that the filmmakers wouldn’t want to work with someone like me? Unflattering assumptions, sounds like. Can’t blame them. I had a lot to prove. Still do.
How was six weeks in Texict? Fucking heaven. I loved it. My mother’s from the northwest so, even when I visited family, it wasn’t anywhere close. No reason to visit until we dropped in to do the film. Every day, I woke up happy to be alive. Happy to be doing this job. Gorgeous. I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess it wasn’t just the location, was it?
No, you’re right. I felt like I was really acting—for the first time, seriously. Maybe the cast helped? I’d worked with established actors before. The leads in Sugar Sweet were—well, you know who they were. I learned a ton from them. But, yeah, I guess Sasha was the first person I’d worked alongside who had me sweating. Oh? I wanted to impress her so fucking badly. I wanted to keep up, you know? So talented. So raw. She rips every line out of her chest with her bare hands. Bloodbath of emotion. The premise was new, too. Not a lighthearted romance this time. No. We were young parents of a ill child—stressed as fuck, trying to make life work, struggling separately to be together. Can’t lie, I ate that shit up. So did the critics. Hell yeah.
Every nomination felt surreal. The recognition was incredible. Validating. Sasha and some of the others swept up. I was just honored to be up there with them, honestly. Okay, well, let’s talk about Sasha. Do we have to? Yes. Indulge me! [Grumbling] I mean, all I can really say at this point is that I was obsessed, and it wasn’t until it was over that I had the clarity of mind to really wonder, hm, “Was I in love with Sasha, my coworker, or was I in love with Sasha playing Lucy, my wife?” That seems like an occupational hazard. I wouldn’t describe it that way. You take sensitive, delusional, beautiful people, pay them to get vulnerable and intimate with each other … It’s special, even if it’s … Not genuine? No, it is that. It’s not real, but it is genuine. How else can you say, “Well, our schedules don’t line up anymore, but I’ll have this scar of our initials forever?” You do not! No, I don’t. The letter S is really hard to cut without fucking up. Not a sober man’s idea. No.
Since I have you on the topic—hey, no, absolutely not—I’m obligated to ask if there’s anyone in your life right now. How’s that? Women’s magazines can snap this up and stitch it together for themselves. This is a public service. Patricia … Yes, Lorencio?
Look, I know you do your research. I do. I’m very good at it, too. What’s that like, princess pus—Pat. Pat, I’m begging you—Are you obsessed? The letter L is easier, I bet. It is. Would you go with another L or an R?
I’m not talking about this—not for you to print, anyway. Well, talk to me as a friend, then? I’m not just professionally nosy. We’re friends? Who else calls me Pat and gets away with it? You haven’t been Trish in a long time, it’s true … [Sighs] Fuck. Someone can be precious, right? Lovable. You can hold them in your hands and think, “This person matters to me. They’re special. I like to be around them; I like to listen to them; I want their affection.” You can really, genuinely cherish someone.
But? Maybe you find their life to be completely fucking repellent. Unbearable. … Damn.
There’s parallels, though, right? I mean, fame is fame, there’s got to be value in relatability, and—There’s an open mic going on downstairs in the hotel bar right this minute. Let’s take a break, Pat, what do you say? Let’s just go watch some of it. I’ll let you print dick measurements and my deepest, darkest secrets if you say yes. [Laughs] Well, if that’s on the table—
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marie-m-art · 3 months
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There's a specific concept from Good Omens that I really like (amongst many others), that I was chuffed to also find in a Sandman and a Discworld story!
I love that in Good Omens (both book and TV), Heaven and Hell are presented as mostly redundant and ineffectual when it comes to human morality - and that Hell in particular find some of the things humans do to be pretty shocking, and/or instructive.
Opportunities for humour aside, this idea flies in the face of the common belief that the world's worst ills are the result of outside forces influencing people to do evil (ie the devil. Or ... lizard people etc? I digress). And it's unlike other stories out there that are like, "World War II was actually caused by xyz characters!" or similar. Good Omens doesn't rewrite history like that, or let us - humanity - off the hook when it comes to the big stuff, when it could so easily have done so in a universe where Heaven and Hell are literally real.
The story, of course, also credits human cleverness to humans, and celebrates the things we should be proud of, like art, music, delicious food, craftmanship, invention, etc. And it credits humans for having a propensity for compassion and goodness.
"[Crowley] did his best to make their short lives miserable, because that was his job, but nothing he could think up was half as bad as the stuff they thought up themselves. […] And just when you'd think they were more malignant than ever Hell could be, they could occasionally show more grace than Heaven ever dreamed of. Often the same individual was involved."
I love this concept because I see it as an uncoupling of religion and morality. They can both exist together, but the former isn't necessary for the latter. (This isn't the only possible interpretation; the more literal reading might be more about free will, but this is where I extrapolated it to).
From Sandman: Season of Mists Episode 2 (plot context stripped out to avoid spoilers, but skip ahead to black text if you want absolutely nothing spoiled if you want to read it).
Lucifer: "And the mortals! I ask you - why? […] Why do they blame me for all their little failings? They use my name as if I spend my entire day sitting on their shoulders, forcing them to commit acts they would otherwise find repulsive. 'The devil made me do it.' I have never made one of them do anything. Never. They live their own tiny lives. I do not live their lives for them."
And from Eric, a Discworld book (this one's related to Hell learning from humans, more than morality/free will... I won't spoil the funny by elaborating!):
"Earl Beezlemoth rubbed one of his three noses.
'And humans somewhere thought this up all by themselves?' he said. 'We didn't give them any, you know, hints?' […]
The earl stared into infinity. 'I thought we were supposed to be the ghastly ones,' he said, his voice filled with awe."
Another commonality between these two stories that isn't directly shared by Good Omens (yet...? still have another season coming …) but that I like enough to point out, is the idea that Hell is a place where people end up if they believe they deserve to go there. I like this because a lot of people are influenced to feel guilty about "sins" that are innocuous parts of normal human behaviour, so it's pretty brutal to fear going to Hell over them. There's comfort in this idea, to me. (granted, the following Sandman quote states this less explicitly but I take the same meaning from it … but lmk if I've done a reading incomprehension; I also haven't read all the books yet).
From Sandman:
Lucifer: "And then [the mortals] die, and they come here (having transgressed against what they believed to be right), and expect us to fulfill their desire for pain and retribution. I don't make them come here."
From Eric (partial footnote near the beginning):
"Interestingly enough, the gods of the Disc have never bothered much about judging the souls of the dead, and so people only go to hell if that's where they believe, in their deepest heart, that they deserve to go."
Eric also really leans into the idea of Hell being a bureaucratic, corporate, boring nightmare, also familiar to Good Omens fans, and the demons are so over it. The tone (you could probably guess) is very different from Sandman, and it's one of the earlier, less-serious Discworld books; it's a very fun, absurd ride of a read!
There are a few other Discworld books I'll talk about in a future post, that may also be of interest to certain Good Omens fans (I'm gearing these posts toward the fans who came to Good Omens from the TV show and haven't had the pleasure of discovering Neil's and Terry's other work yet); the ones I have in mind examine religious extremism, and the uncoupling of religion and morality too. A couple of them also have queer themes, if that is also your jam! (Less shipping opportunities but I assume some fans, like me, like the rest of the material in GO in addition to the love story).
I'll end this with a quote from a footnote from Eric that has nothing to do with anything in this post, but which took me by surprise and had me laughing days later whenever it came to mind. It's referring to books in a section of the library:
"Just erotic. Nothing kinky. It's the difference between using a feather and using a chicken."
And another bonus one that I found while looking for the first:
"Rincewind had been told that death was just like going into another room. The difference is, when you shout, 'Where's my clean socks?', no one answers."
I hope this made sense and is maybe interesting to someone ... I had fun talking about this at least!
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frankcastleonlyfans · 2 years
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Could you possibly do one where Aemond reacts to finding out that he might have to marry Daemon’s daughter? Would he be mad or weirdly happy in a way. We all know what daemon thinks of what his brother has in store for his daughter and he is not having it.
𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐄
pairing: dad!daemon targaryen x mom!reader au | aemond targaryen x daemon's daughter!oc
warnings: fluff(?), aemond is his own warning, cussing because aemond has a dirty mouth.
author's note: I'm truly obsessed about this bc I never thought about Aemond's reaction to being betrothed. This is going to be in headcanon format due most of it just being from Aemond's pov. Thank you so much for your amazing idea <3 also wrote this while listening to "the red means i love you" and i'm shipping alymond 😭
read this headcanon for context of this story
reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. support your content creators 💓 enjoy your reading.
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"I know you're lying, Aegon. Don't you have anything better to do? Maybe some young maid to fuck?"
Aegon scoffed, "Well, if you don't believe me, go talk to father about it. I'm just telling you what I heard."
Aemond believed his brother was nothing but a drunk liar, so his word didn't actually meant anything.
But he went to talk to the King anyways.
While walking through the corridors, Aemond thought about what that meant to him.
He wanted to be mad about it, but it wasn't that bad.
In fact, it wasn't bad at all.
He knew Alyssa Targaryen pretty well. He knew how feisty that pretty little thing could be. She did took his eye, after all.
And Aegon wasn't lying.
"I don't hope you to understand, but our line must spread. She's a pure valyrian, and would make to you a good wif– Why are you smiling?" King Viserys questioned, raising a curious eyebrow.
Aemond chuckled, "Have you told Daemon?"
"I did... He was furious about it." Viserys confessed.
"Well, that's great! I'll give these exciting news to my betrothed, myself. I couldn't be more happy about your choice, father." Aemond left the king's chambers without discussing if Daemon agreed or not.
Aemond knew Daemon wouldn't let Alyssa marry him.
He also couldn't care less. His father was the king.
Aemond couldn't put in words the taste of satisfaction in his mouth once he knew how angry Daemon was about his union with his uncle's daughter.
The girl literally took his eye, the least she could do is marry him without complaining.
Oh, but she would be furious too. He knows she's just like her daddy.
"I figured I'd find you here." Aemond said with a smile.
Ever since Daemon gave her her own sword, Alyssa spent quite some time in the training yard when the boys weren't there.
Curiously, Aemond always knew when she was there.
"And what do you want?" Alyssa spat, slamming her sword towards a wooden target.
"I came to give you the great news! I couldn't believe my own ears when I heard it."
"Oh? Did your mother successfully try to kill anyone? I hope it was your grandsire. Gods, I hate that man." Alyssa chuckled and beheaded the target.
Aemond frowned and squinted. He wouldn't fall for her games. He was the one to tease, not her.
"Haha. You're so funny, Alyssa. I bet it wouldn't take long for me to fall for you." Aemond coaxed.
Alyssa blinked a couple of times, processing what he just said.
"What?"
"Did I stutter?" Aemond smirked.
Alyssa took a deep breath before asking, "What the fuck are you talking about, One Eye?"
Aemond clicked his tongue, "Gods, you're just as fucking stupid as you're pretty. It means we're betrothed. I'd be treating my future husband with respect, if I were you."
"Are you crazy?" Alyssa hysterically laughed, "My father would have your head before letting me marry you." She pointed her sword towards the prince, "I would have your head before giving myself to you."
"Kinky." Aemond retorted and lowered her sword with the point of his index. "Who's your father to disrespect the king's orders?"
Alyssa swallowed hard. She had no answer for that. Even the dumbest girl knows the king's word is above everything. And she is no dumb girl.
She left him there and went looking for her father.
She thought about a million possibilities.
Maybe she could run away? They lived in Pentos for a while, she'd do well there.
No, Y/N wouldn't let her go alone.
What about Daeron? If she begged, maybe the king could call him back to King's Landing, so they could get married.
To be truthful, Alyssa didn't want to marry any of Alicent's kin, but anyone was better than Aemond.
But Daeron was the same age as her brother, Maegon. That was kinda disgusting.
"Did you know uncle Viserys wants to marry me to Aemond?" Alyssa stormed into her parents chambers.
Daemon's lips immediately left yours. You groaned in response.
"Maybe knock the next time, Alyssa?" You said in annoyance.
"Sorry mother, but I think what I have to say is way more important than you snogging with father." Alyssa answered with wit.
Daemon smirked, "It's okay, 'Lyssa. I'll talk to Viserys again. You know I'd die before letting this happen."
You rolled your eyes, "You're both being dramatic about it. Aemond is not that bad. He's a bit... violent, yes, but he would never hurt you. I promise you, daughter, violent men can be great lovers." You ran your fingers through your husband's little braids in his hair.
"Don't go giving her any ideas, Y/N." Daemon warned with a stern look, and you snorted.
"She's a grown woman, Daemon. There's a sword in her hand. I don't think you need to protect her anymore." You shrugged.
"Hello??? I'm still in the room, please stop talking about me like I'm not here!" Alyssa crossed her arms.
"Don't worry. I told Viserys you're not marrying Aemond, so you're not marrying Aemond. Is that clear?" Daemon asked, reassuring her.
"Yes, father."
read the second part to this story
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vgperson · 5 months
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What Did I Do In 2023?
Whatever I wanted, mostly.
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As I mentioned last year, my site now has an RSS feed with basically everything I've done back to 2020, so this will mainly be going over the same stuff from that, just with added context.
In January, I finally sat down and properly realized an idea for a short story I'd had sitting around for a while: From the Sidelines, about a fantasy RPG expedition going sideways. I remain very proud of it in both concept and execution, and hope people read it.
In February, Your Turn To Die was released on Steam Early Access, receiving character profiles and some bonus mini-episodes, adding two more later in the year.
After finishing From the Sidelines, I carried that momentum to revisit my Ut0p1a story series about funny computer animals. I'd always meant to continue it - and conclude it - but hadn't been satisfied with the ideas I had for it until totally rethinking them this year. In March, I posted the remaining stories one after another: Right to Code and Left to Code. I'm very proud of these as well. Also in March, Kenshi Yonezu released LADY. (Video, interview)
In April, Uri released the Data Book of the Strange Men Series, a big collection of the writing she's done on the games in the series, with a lot of new parts as well, all translated by me.
Then in May... uh, well, let's see. In April, Capcom released the Mega Man Battle Network Legacy Collection. I always adored the Battle Network games, and was initially excited that they finally did the thing... but by the time it came out, I was pretty disappointed by how, while you certainly couldn't call them low-effort ports, the effort didn't extend everywhere I thought it should, with the biggest offenders being the total absence of any "convenience features" except Buster Max Mode, the bad font, and the almost entirely untouched translations.
So, I ended up deciding I might as well just replay the originals, and that was a fun time (aside from the parts that were bad). Doing this, I couldn't help but notice how... turbulent the translations were, even if I'd always known they were less than ideal. I mean, the first two games just used periods for ellipses despite the tight character limits, then in BN3 they had an ellipsis character... but it's center-aligned, Japanese-style? Aside from the intro, which has normal ones? Gosh, somebody should fix that - it's simple enough to find and edit in YY-CHR. "JapanMan" is silly, too - I wonder if anybody made a patch for that? Wait, what do you mean there's just a tool to extract and insert text in all the Battle Network games including the Legacy Collection???
Thus began a journey that sort of occupied the rest of my year. First I did the BN3 Translation Revision, trying not to worry too much about cross-referencing the Japanese text unless something seemed wrong, so that I didn't spend too long on the project. Then I began to consider BN2, with its unfortunate "foreigner" text that would need some more significant reworking. I established more convenient tools for comparing with the Japanese script, and thus did a much more thorough job with it, releasing the BN2 Translation Revision in June (AKA Princess Pride Month).
Finally, after giving myself time to recover and actually finish replaying the series, I knew what I had to do to close things out. With the BN4 Translation Revision, you can finally play Battle Network 4 with a translation that isn't such a mess. Whether you'd want to is for you to decide, though if you can get over the structure, I don't think it's the worst game in the series by any means. (Oh, and in December I also updated the BN3 Revision to 1.1, doing a thorough pass with the methods I'd honed. But I think I'm pretty much good on MMBN translations now.)
Anyway, backtracking to other things that happened during my Battle Network haze... June had Kenshi Yonezu's Moongazing (video, interview), and July had Globe (video, interview, interview).
Last but not least, released in November, I translated Refind Self: The Personality Test Game, a short game from Lizardry (creator of 7 Days to End with You) with a fun concept.
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Obviously I was right to have said "no promises" last year. But really, Your Turn To Die should get its final part on Steam sometime next year, maybe even early-ish in it. That's certainly the goal.
I'm also hoping to buckle down and finish one of my own games, but as usual, who knows how that'll pan out. Letting my whims carry me this year let me finally finish From the Sidelines and Ut0p1a, which was great, and it also led me down a Battle Network rabbit hole, which was... fine, but definitely for a narrower audience. I'd always like to get back to more free game translations and the like, too, but it takes effort to find things I'd want to translate. For now, I think my increasing desire to be able to let loose some of these original games I've been planning, and the stories in them, might come out on top.
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secretmellowblog · 10 months
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I hope tumblr doesn’t die because No other social media site is as good for long, thoughtful, nuanced analyses of media. Yeah tumblr is also full of dumb shallow hot takes and shitposts, but you can make dumb shallow hot takes and shitposts anywhere —-there are no other popular social media sites that let you easily format and share long essays on the media you enjoy, and then have conversations around those long essays.
Fandom on all the other big social websites just seems so utterly …shallow. And it’s not because people on other websites aren’t thoughtful or don’t have deep things to say, but because these sites’ formats do not allow for any kind of long nuanced conversations.
Tiktok? Things have to be crammed into a super short video with an attention grabbing headline, and you can’t hyperlink sources. Instagram? Everything has to be in an image format with strict limits on length, and nothing will be shown to your followers anyway because of how Instagram’s algorithm works, and also no hyperlinks. Twitter? Strict character limits, and if you split it into threads it means someone can retweet a part of your essay completely out of context, and also very little freedom with formatting.
It frustrates me so much. If I go into the Tumblr Les Mis fandom I’ll find really compelling long essays on the original novel (including essays being written for the ongoing book club) on the story’s historical context, or the parallels between different characters and their narrative foils, or the way the politics were defanged for certain adaptations, or the way Victor Hugo’s personal life and failings affected the novel. But on tiktok I’ll get the same five shallow stale jokes from 2013 over and over, or maybe the same “DID U KNO THAT IN THE MUSICAL JAVERT AND VALJEAN SING THE SAME LEITMOTIF” style of basic Intro To Les Mis 101 For Babies media analysis (which is what Tiktok considers deep media analysis), or stale “LOL JAVERT ACTS GAY” style jokes as if we’re living in the early 2000s and calling a character gay is still a funny punchline. And it’s impossible to have any kind of deeper thoughtful discussions than “DID U KNOW <x Kool Fact>” or “lol <shallow observational joke>” on tiktok because the platform just isn’t built for building niche communities around in depth conversations. it’s built to churn out bland generic content for as wide an audience as possible, which means pointing out a small detail like an Easter egg and calling it “cool” is deep media analysis, because you cant have longer more in depth conversations without alienating people. And I hate it. Bc like, it’s not because there aren’t smart clever thoughtful people on Tiktok— there are—it’s because Tiktok isn’t built for these conversations, and anyone who wants to have them has to really fight against the things the website encourages or prioritizes!
Or like, if I go into the LOTR fandom on Tumblr, I’ll find tons of extremely long analysis and fanfic, and analysis of queer readings of the story. On Instagram people will still shriek in terror if you suggest the characters are gay, and most of the popular lotr posts are stale memes recycled from like 2007. There’s really no room for thoughtful media analysis, and even if you did create it, instagram’s algorithm would make sure no one saw your post anyway.
And everyone’s going to say “the algorithm shows you what you’ve seen before so maybe it’s your fault ~” or whatever but i do look for things I want! I do! “The algorithm” doesn’t know me or what I want or value or care about beyond this meaningless surface level.
The only thing that was worthwhile about these sites was the great visual art people were creating, but now the websites are overwhelmed with meaningless soulless machine-generated AI glurge, and it sucks. It just really, really sucks.
I’m honestly confused about why people don’t use tumblr….There’s no character limits! You have freedom with post formatting, and can insert images throughout textposts to illustrate specific points you’re making beneath the paragraphs where they’re necessary! You can add hyperlinks, linking to your sources! People can reblog your entire essay and share it, and then add on with commentary that then becomes part of a larger conversation! People can find your stuff through the tagging system! Reblogging means posts stay in circulation for years instead of being dead 30 minutes after they’re uploaded! If you want to have genuinely interesting text conversations about a piece of media, there really isn’t a better social media website for it anywhere.
To be clear, I’m definitely not saying Tumblr media analysis is *always* clever and thoughtful or etc etc. there are shitposts and nonsense here too (plenty of which I’ve created lol.) I’m saying that Tumblr gives people the tools for in-depth insightful analysis to happen. Whether people choose to do it or not is their own decision XD. But the reason lengthy in-depth conversations and book clubs are even possible here is because Tumblr is built for allowing these conversations to happen, in a way other sites simply aren’t.
It’d really suck if it died, because it’d be a huge blow to…being able to easily find long insightful in-depth media analysis written by fans. I currently don’t think there’s anything that could replace it.
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gimmethatagustd · 11 months
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dirty, dirty boy | kth + knj
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For Taehyung, the only revenge sweeter than fucking Namjoon's girlfriend behind his back is fucking Namjoon from the back.
↳ pairing: fuckboy!taehyung x namjoon (from only here to sin)
↳ rating/genre: BTS | 18+ | enemies to… enemies with benefits ?? | smut
↳ wc/date: 4.3k | July 2023
↳ warnings: typical ohts!tae level of emotional manipulation, loss of virginity/virginity kink, hate sex, blowjob, anal fingering, protected anal sex, slut-shaming, humiliation, degradation, they're mean to each other in general lol, tae and jk are fwbs (is it really a jai fic if there isn't a taekook moment?), marijuana, sex under the influence (is it really a jai fic without some weed?) so ig it's kinda dubcon if this was real life but in the context of the fic they're both fully aware of their actions
↳ notes: if you know ohts!taehyung then you know that he loves to use his dick for revenge 🤷🏽‍♀️ also, i went back and forth on whether i should write this using third person or second person to refer to the main character in only here to sin. i decided that since some people might read this as a standalone, i would use third person. it also kind of felt weird to say "you" when there isn't actually a "you" character in the story lol. i hope that makes sense/y'all don't mind
↳ masterlist / taglist
↳ what was jai listening to? a fuckboy spotify playlist
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“You’re not even just a little bit curious, Joonie?”
Taehyung’s tongue glides along the edge of the rolling paper pinched between his index fingers and thumbs. Little clusters of purple grapes drawn in a cartoonish style are printed onto the thin paper. When he brings his lighter to the twisted tip, the smoke he inhales is sweet. 
“No desire to know why your girl thought getting fucked by me was worth breaking her promise to you?” 
Taehyung leans his head against the back of the couch and watches Namjoon out of the corner of his eye. The other man sits in a chair diagonal from Taehyung’s spot on the couch. He looks odd in Taehyung’s apartment, wearing tortoise-shell geometric glasses and a cream-colored cardigan. Meanwhile, Taehyung lounges in light grey joggers and a tight white t-shirt with the sleeves cuffed around his bulging biceps. 
They’re a funny sight, him and Namjoon. Taehyung is sure of it and can’t help but smirk to himself at the thought of Namjoon’s ex-girlfriend knowing he’s here. He’s sure Namjoon hasn’t mentioned it to her. As far as Taehyung knows, she hasn’t had any communication with Namjoon since she went off to California. 
Taehyung knows they’re both thinking about how the last time Namjoon was here, they were beating the shit out of each other. 
Taehyung also thinks about how he fucked Namjoon’s girl on the couch right where he’s sitting, but Namjoon doesn’t know that. The asshole might have his suspicions, but he can’t ever know for sure. 
That is unless Taehyung tells him. And Taehyung loves it when Namjoon gets all purple in the face, and the veins pop out in his neck. But he also loves knowing what Namjoon doesn’t. 
“Shut the fuck up,” Namjoon hisses. His face isn’t quite purple yet, but his neck veins are starting to show. 
Taehyung’s mouth shapes into a lazy rectangular smile. 
“Make me.” 
“You’re so fucking childish.” 
Taehyung snorts. When he exhales, smoke rushes from his nostrils. He leans one elbow on his knee and extends his other arm out to offer Namjoon the grape-flavored joint. 
“I don’t smoke,” Namjoon declines with a wrinkle of his nose. 
It’s ridiculous because Namjoon doesn’t like Taehyung, yet here he is in his apartment, and for what? Their meeting is under the pretense that Taehyung wanted to make amends now that the object of both of their affection is no longer in the picture. The important thing to remember about Kim Taehyung, though, is that he is always honest - you just have to decipher the meaning behind the truths he speaks. 
“There’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?” Taehyung licks his lips and doesn’t miss how Namjoon follows the action with suspicion in his eyes. “C’mon, these were her favorite. S’good; it’ll make you taste like grape soda.” 
Namjoon doesn’t comment on Taehyung’s implication that anyone would be tasting his mouth for proof, and Taehyung doesn’t expect him to. He waggles the joint, careful not to let any ash hit the floor. 
The funny thing about Namjoon is that he thrives off of controlling the weak people he’s closest to, but he is hopeless when presented with someone just as manipulative as he is. Taehyung figures it’s his nonchalant demeanor that gets Namjoon’s panties in a twist. While Namjoon is high-strung and anxious in his desire to maintain control, Taehyung is more willing to play with his food. He likes feeling around, getting a sense of the situation. He’s willing to be patient, to wait for the opportune moment to get someone right where he wants them. 
And Namjoon is nearly there. 
With a grunt and an eye roll, Namjoon plucks the joint from between Taehyung’s long fingers and sticks it between his lips. 
“Keep your lips tight, but not too tight,” Taehyung guides Namjoon in a soft murmur. “Inhale some air right after you take the hit, but don’t let any of the smoke out. That’s it.” 
Namjoon coughs a few times, but that’s expected of a first-timer. Taehyung schools his face, careful not to have any expression that could be read as condescending. If he wants Namjoon to chill out, he needs to avoid bruising his ego. There will be plenty of opportunities for that later. 
“See? Feels good,” Taehyung reassures when Namjoon passes the joint back. He has to lean across the coffee table to reach it. “Come sit over here; it’s fucking annoying having to lean like that.” 
When Namjoon hesitates, Taehyung draws his lip between his teeth to hold back a grin. 
“What? I don’t bite.” 
“Shut up,” Namjoon immediately counters, but he gets up and sits beside Taehyung on the couch. 
“Relax.” Taehyung blows a smoke ring toward the ceiling. “Ride the high.” 
It’s surprisingly easy to get Namjoon to relax once he has a few more hits. Taehyung has been told he has a calming voice, so perhaps Taehyung’s random ramblings aid in getting Namjoon to feel more comfortable. He’s certainly hesitant at first, but they have enough history to fuel their conversation. It isn’t painless, but it isn’t awful. Taehyung steers clear of girlfriend-talk, instead reminiscing about stupid teachers they’d had in school and getting into an only semi-serious argument over their favorite basketball teams. 
Yes, Taehyung brought Namjoon over to earn his trust because he’s playing the long game, biding his time until he can truly fuck Namjoon over, but he doesn’t expect that trust to develop so quickly. Too quickly. 
“I wish I could talk to her,” Namjoon says with a sigh. He rests his head against the back of the couch and stares at the clouds of smoke they’re blowing into the air. 
“Probably not a good idea, my guy,” Taehyung counters. 
Namjoon turns his head to the side. He and Taehyung are only a few inches apart, close enough that their shoulders almost touch. There’s a strange look on his face that Taehyung can’t decipher because he doesn’t know Namjoon that well. 
“You haven’t reached out to her?” Shock colors Namjoon’s voice and muddles his odd expression. 
“Nope.” Taehyung draws out the word and lets it pop at the end. 
“Why not?” 
He shrugs. 
Namjoon lets out a disgruntled sound like he’s frustrated that Taehyung hasn’t wanted any communication with his ex, but he has. 
“What would be the point? It’s not like we had anything serious going on. Sorry, but it was a good fuck, and that’s it. And I can get a good fuck from plenty of people.” 
It isn’t entirely true, but Taehyung strangles the voice inside his head that tries to point that out to him. 
Sex talk must make Namjoon just as uncomfortable as it had his girlfriend because the guy practically squirms in his seat. It makes Taehyung want to roll his eyes, but he’s trying to be nice right now. 
“I wouldn’t know,” Namjoon sniffs, and if he could lift his nose fully into the air, Taehyung is sure his snooty ass would. 
“I know. It’s cute,” Taehyung says with a crooked grin. He brings the joint to his lips and watches Namjoon through the hazy smoke. “That you’re a virgin.”
It’s Namjoon’s turn to roll his eyes. “Shut the fuck up. Virginities mean nothing.” 
“Don’t they?” 
“It’s a social construct.” 
Taehyung waves a hand once Namjoon takes the joint from him. “That’s all that fancy college talk,” he dismisses. “You’re telling me you don’t care about fucking for the first time? Don’t care who it’s with, when, none of that?” 
Namjoon is overcome with a fit of coughs, so he shakes his head instead of verbally answering.
“Then why did you care so much about you and your girl saving yourselves for marriage?” 
Namjoon sighs like Taehyung is the stupidest person in the world. It isn’t the first time. “That wasn’t about virginities. That was about not being a fucking slut like some people.” 
“Like me,” Taehyung muses. Namjoon doesn’t find it to be as funny. 
“Yes, like you.”
Taehyung hums in understanding, but he doesn’t speak right away. Namjoon is confusing. Abstinence before marriage implies sexual purity, yet he finds virginities to be arbitrary. Wouldn’t that make a person’s body count arbitrary, too? College kids and their stupid, contradictory ideas. Taehyung always knew college wasn’t for him, and this type of pretentious bullshit is exactly why. 
“What counts as sex for you?” Taehyung leans forward to tap the joint against the edge of an ashtray. 
“What do you mean?”
“Y’know, if you’re saving yourself ‘cause you wanna be a prude, how far are you willing to take it? Is a handjob considered sex? Some sloppy toppy? Where’s the line drawn?” 
Namjoon grimaces at Taehyung’s crass language. “I don’t know.” 
Taehyung hums again and rests the now spent joint at the bottom of the ashtray. He and Namjoon aren’t that high; another joint would be needed to really get them to the level he likes to be at. They’re buzzed, relaxed enough that they aren’t at each other’s necks, but Namjoon’s eyes aren’t even red yet. 
Taehyung twists his body to face Namjoon and props his elbow on the back of the couch so he can hold his head in his hand. “So if I sucked you off right now, it wouldn’t count?” 
Namjoon nearly chokes, but Taehyung keeps a straight face. 
“Excuse me?”
“If I sucked you off, it wouldn’t count as sex?”
The neck veins appear now, but Taehyung thinks they aren’t out of anger. He can’t help but smirk when Namjoon’s eyes fall to his lips. 
“It doesn’t matter because you wouldn’t do that.”
“Why not?” Taehyung lets himself laugh this time because it’s utterly ridiculous how Namjoon goes from calling him a slut to calling him a liar in the same breath. “Like I said before, aren’t you curious why your girlfriend cheated on you with me?” 
It’s the Forbidden Topic, but Taehyung thinks right now is an appropriate time to bring it up. He wants to rile Namjoon up, but now his strategy has evolved slightly. 
Before Namjoon can answer, Taehyung leans forward to rest his hand on Namjoon’s knee. He squeezes it lightly, then drags his palm up the length of Namjoon’s thigh, making sure to curve his fingertips into the inside of his thigh when he squeezes the muscle. 
“Quit it,” Namjoon whispers, but Taehyung notices that he spreads his legs. The movement is almost imperceptible, but it happens. 
“She always said she liked my mouth,” Taehyung ignores Namjoon, kneading his thigh as he speaks. “I could show you what’s so special about it.”
He can see it, the fight in Namjoon’s eyes. It’s in the way he looks at Taehyung’s mouth, then to his hand squeezing his thigh, and then back to his eyes. Eyes that Taehyung knows are dark and full of lust, but mostly mischief because this is a game. Fucking Namjoon’s girlfriend had been a game, too. It just hadn’t ended the way Taehyung wanted or expected it to. 
“C’mon, Joonie,” Taehyung whispers. He slowly moves off the couch and sinks to his knees on the floor between Namjoon’s legs. “You’ve always wanted to shut me up, right?” 
Having Taehyung between his legs must light a fire inside of Namjoon because he blinks a few times as though he’s just woken up. It’s cute how his cheeks flush a deep pink, the color intensifying as Taehyung’s long fingers begin unbuckling his belt. Taehyung wants to ruin him.
“I need you to say it,” Taehyung murmurs. Even though Namjoon willingly lifts his hips, letting Taehyung pull his jeans and underwear down to free his cock, Taehyung needs verbal confirmation. He watches Namjoon with curiosity as he brings his cock to his mouth and flicks the head with the tip of his tongue. Taehyung hasn’t sucked a dick in ages; he’s normally the one choking someone with his cock. Luckily, being out of practice won’t matter in this situation. Namjoon is already folding, and Taehyung has barely done anything. 
Namjoon’s bright eyes narrow into a hateful glare. “Fuck you.” 
“Oh, now we’re gonna do that?” Taehyung teases. “Let’s worry about me sucking you off, and then we can talk about fucking, okay, Joonie?”
He molds his lips around the tip, and Namjoon lets out a deep groan. He throws his head against the back of the couch and digs his fingers into his own thighs to keep himself rigid. 
“Fuck, fine, do it.” 
Taehyung hates when people tell him what to do, but he’ll give Namjoon a pass this time. Slipping the man’s cock down his throat is more interesting than getting into an argument. Funny how life works. He’s way too giddy with the excitement of finally getting at Kim Namjoon, the man he’s hated more than anyone else for nearly a decade. 
Taking it all at once is a mistake, though. Namjoon is more tightly wound than Taehyung had anticipated. The moment his cock hits the back of Taehyung’s throat, Namjoon practically starts crying. Taehyung eases up on his approach, going slower and not applying too much pressure. He doesn’t want to be an asshole about it, he really doesn’t, but the hum he makes around Namjoon’s cock is the closest thing to laughter that he can do with a dick in his mouth. He manages maybe two bobs of his head before he has to pull off. 
“Damn, Namjoon,” he huffs, voice low and thick. He rests his chin on Namjoon’s thigh and slowly drags his hand up his cock, avoiding the tip. “You’re such a virgin. It’s kinda embarrassing; I’m sorry.” 
Namjoon covers his face with his hands, and Taehyung can see where his blunt nails dug half moons in his thighs. “Fuck you, Taehyung.” 
“Mhm, you said that already.” Taehyung runs his tongue up his cock just to be mean, though he’s a bit afraid Namjoon might kick him from the way his body twitches. “You’re not fucking anyone with this pathetic thing.” He squeezes the base of Namjoon’s cock, also to be mean. “I’m not opposed to fucking you, though I thought you didn’t wanna be a slut.” 
Taehyung expects Namjoon to cuss him out even more, but he just stares at Taehyung’s tongue as it licks around the head of his cock. Heat builds in the pit of Taehyung’s stomach, but he does his best to ignore it. He needs to stay focused on Namjoon. Namjoon, who has yet to refuse Taehyung’s offer. 
With a quirk of his eyebrow, Taehyung sits back on his heels. “Unless you want it?” Silences. “Oh, you want it.” Taehyung bites his lip to suppress a grin, but the cockiness bleeds through his tone anyway. Namjoon already looks fucked out, and for once, the little bitch has nothing to say. It’s great; Namjoon deserves a taste of his own fucked up medicine for being such a controlling asshole in his last relationship. 
“Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do since you’re too nervous,” Taehyung holds up his hand when Namjoon starts to protest. “I’m going to my room to get a condom and some lube. If you’re still here when I get back, I’m gonna split you open, aight, Joonie?” Taehyung pats Namjoon’s knee and stands up. 
Taehyung is enjoying the fact that he rendered the man speechless a little too much. Part of him wouldn’t be surprised if Namjoon has his dick shoved in his pants and the door swinging behind him by the time Taehyung returns to the living room. It wouldn’t matter either way, he figures as he retrieves the items he needs from his bedroom nightstand. The damage is done regardless; it doesn’t matter how far they take it now. Besides, Taehyung wasn’t going to swallow, and he sure as fuck wasn’t going to let Namjoon nut on his face. He’s got more self-respect than that, wouldn’t let Namjoon have the pleasure. 
To his pleasant surprise, Namjoon is right where Taehyung wants him - sitting pretty with his pants and underwear in a pile on the floor. He’s kept his t-shirt on, but the cardigan is gone and that’s just fine with Taehyung. The important parts are exposed and that’s all he can really ask for. 
“Don’t fucking say anything,” Namjoon hisses but it’s whinier than it is biting. 
Taehyung holds up his hands, one of them clutching the lube and a condom. “My lips are sealed, Joonie baby. Now turn around and get on your hands and knees.” 
Fuck, Taehyung never could have imagined how good saying that would feel. He doesn’t even bother hiding his triumphant grin as he strips down to only his t-shirt, mirroring Namjoon. 
Namjoon looks hot spread out for Taehyung on the couch. Despite his sharp tongue, the man is completely pliant for Taehyung as he massages his lubed-up fingers inside of him, one by one. It doesn’t take long for Taehyung to find Namjoon’s prostate. He pays special attention to the spot for a bit - just long enough for the burning tension to build inside of Namjoon and slowly drive him mad. But eventually, Taehyung steers clear of it despite a whine from the man spread open. 
“No way I’m letting you come now,” Taehyung grunts, using his knees to push Namjoon’s legs wider apart. 
It’s been a while since Taehyung has had to prep someone. Usually, when he and Jungkook fucked, Jungkook did all the work himself. Said he liked to put on a little show for Taehyung, and Taehyung isn’t ever going to deny his best friend anything. 
So maybe he rushes a bit through it, making fingering less like foreplay and more like true preparation - merely a task that must be completed before they can move forward with the night. There’s no need to be sexy or passionate; Taehyung is doing this to make a point. He fucking owns Kim Namjoon’s ass. 
“You ready?” Taehyung huffs, trying his best to sound as unaffected as possible while he rolls the condom on. It’s difficult to keep steady when he slowly slides his cock in between Namjoon’s ass, letting it drag up the curve. He rolls his hips forward to chase the pleasure, even if it’s minimal compared to what he’ll soon have. 
“How the fuck am I supposed to know?” Namjoon bites back. 
Rather than respond to his smart-ass comment, Taehyung lines his cock up and pushes through the stubborn muscles - slow enough to not hurt Namjoon too badly but fast enough to knock the air out of him. 
“Oh god,” Namjoon gasps in a voice much higher-pitched than Taehyung would have expected. Taehyung lands a stinging slap on his ass. 
“Don’t fucking clench,” Taehyung commands with a hiss, using both hands to spread Namjoon’s cheeks to better watch the way his cock, shiny with lube, slides further inside him. 
It takes a few shallow thrusts before Namjoon lets out a broken-sounding sob and completely melts into the cushion. His body rocks forward as Taehyung deepens his strokes, pulling almost all the way out to slide back in again, angling his hips to hit Namjoon’s prostate with each stroke. 
Grabbing a fistful of Namjoon’s sandy-blonde hair, Taehyung twists the man’s head to the side and pushes his upper body into the couch. When he squeezes his fist and gives a slight tug, a ragged groan rumbles from Namjoon’s chest. Taehyung already knows this isn’t going to last long. Namjoon is trembling like a leaf, and Taehyung is still going slow by his standards. It’s fine; Taehyung isn’t looking for something drawn out and sensual. He wants to fuck Namjoon hard and fast just because he wants to be able to say that he did. 
“Someone likes to be manhandled, hmm?” Taehyung snickers. Without slowing the pace of his thrusts, he leans forward to press his chest against Namjoon’s back. “Can you do something for me, Joonie?” 
Namjoon bites into his lip so hard the skin turns nearly white. Another tug on his hair almost forces out a moan, but he keeps his teeth clamped down to muffle the sound. 
“Oh, c’mon, Joonie,” Taehyung whispers against his ear. 
Taehyung’s lips brush against the curve of it before he slips his tongue out to tease the tip down to Namjoon’s earlobe. After a few flicks, he sucks it into his mouth, nibbling on it until Namjoon’s lip falls free, and a moan that sounds more like a sob escapes him. The wrecked sound makes Taehyung’s cock twitch inside him. 
“Good boy.” His praise drips poison as he straightens up to kneel between Namjoon’s legs once again. He still bucks into Namjoon, but his thrusts have slowed to a relaxed, steady pace. “Now, are you going to do what I want? It’s a good thing. I promise.” 
Namjoon nods as best as he can with Taehyung’s fingers still digging into his scalp. 
“I want you to touch yourself.” 
Namjoon lets out a whimper, but he obeys. One arm remains raised above his head, hand squeezing the arm of the couch to both ground himself and prevent his head from hitting it when Taehyung thrusts particularly hard. His other arm snakes between his body and the couch cushions. 
Although Taehyung can no longer see Namjoon’s hand, he knows he’s done what he asked by the way his arm starts to shake with the effort of fisting his hand up and down his cock. 
“See? That. Wasn’t. So. Bad.” Taehyung punctuates each word with a brutal thrust. He lifts Namjoon by the hair just enough to slightly elevate him from the cushions. The position allows Namjoon to rest on one elbow and jerk himself off more easily. 
“Y’know, next time, I think we should invite your pretty princess over, don’t you think?” Taehyung usually isn’t the type to talk during sex, but a sick part of him enjoys how Namjoon tenses with… embarrassment? Humiliation? Something, every time Taehyung mentions his ex-girlfriend. “Could fuck her and make you watch.” 
Namjoon lets out a whimper in response, and his eyes squeeze shut.  
“No? Not into that?” Taehyung lets go of his hair to hook his middle and ring fingers into the corner of Namjoon’s mouth. “Of course, you’re a greedy little bitch. You can’t just sit back and watch. That’s fine. Maybe she’d like two cocks up her pussy.” 
Taehyung brings a stinging slap to Namjoon’s ass. By this point, he’s drooling around his fingers. 
“She’s pretty tight, though. Not sure she could handle it.” 
“F-Fuck y-y-ou,” Namjooon stutters. 
Taehyung is sure it’s meant to be biting, but he says it through the most debauched moan once Taehyung slips his fingers out of his mouth that all the statement does is turn Taehyung on more. 
“You’re the only one getting fucked,” he points out with a grin Namjoon can only catch out of the corner of his eye. 
“T-Then, d-do it, you piece of s-shit,” Namjoon says with a shallow breath. 
He’s going to come soon. Taehyung can tell by the way he slumps face-first into the couch. It’s perfect timing because Taehyung’s steady pace is starting to slip. He leans forward and wraps his arm around Namjoon’s waist, batting his hand away from his cock to replace it with his own. 
“Ohh f-fuck.” Namjoon’s moans are muffled by the cushion, but Taehyung’s pressed close enough against him that he can just make out the other man’s pathetic cries. “Taehyung.” 
“C’mon, Joonie, that’s right.” 
Namjoon’s cock is slick with precum. Taehyung pays special attention to the head, squeezing it and rolling his palm over the tip, doing his best to match his hand’s movements with the rhythm of him pounding into Namjoon. His whimpering makes every nerve ending in Taehyung’s body tingle with pleasure; he can practically see himself crackle and pop like a live wire as Namjoon falls apart under him. 
“You gonna come for me, Joonie?” Taehyung digs his teeth into Namjoon’s shoulder just hard enough to make him squirm. “Come all over yourself ‘cause I fuck you so good?” 
When Namjoon doesn’t respond, Taehyung slides his fist down to squeeze the base of his cock. The action makes Namjoon jolt with a cry of frustration. 
“Fuck! Taehyung, fuck y-you-” 
“I wanna hear you say it. Fucking say it, Joonie.” Taehyung pushes Namjoon deeper into the cushions. “Or do you want me to stop?” 
“No!” It’s pathetic the way Namjoon whines. Taehyung has to bite his bottom lip and focus on the pain there to stop himself from coming. 
“Then fucking say it.” 
“Fuck, okay,” Namjoon is panting, and his voice wavers with each brutal thrust. “You fuck me, so, fuck, so good. Ohh, Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung, please.” 
It only takes a few pumps before he feels Namjoon shiver and lock up beneath him, and warmth spills into the palm of Taehyung’s hand. 
Knowing that he’s fucked Kim Namjoon, the man he hates most in the world, is a pleasure so deep that only sweet revenge could foster it. But knowing Kim Namjoon had moaned his name when he made him come? It’s enough to simultaneously send Taehyung over the edge and inflate his ego. 
“Shit,” Taehyung curses as he comes. “Fuck.” 
Slumping into Namjoon’s back, Taehyung’s weight pushes him all the way into the couch. They’re sweaty, and the cum on Taehyung’s hand is disgusting; it’s always his least favorite part about fucking guys. It’s messy and sticky, and he doesn’t know what to do aside from smearing his hand on Namjoon’s t-shirt in a poor attempt to clean himself up. 
With a deep breath, Taehyung lifts himself up to a sitting position to allow Namjoon to roll onto his back. His glasses are askew, barely hanging onto his face, and his hair is a mess. He looks utterly wrecked, and Taehyung knows it’s not just his ego telling him that. 
“Good?” He asks with a smirk. Namjoon’s answer won’t matter because they both know the truth. 
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all rights reserved © gimmethatagustd on tumblr & AO3
do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work
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ddarker-dreams · 4 months
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Lock, what DO you love and like so much about Dostoevsky's work? I don't think you've ever talked about that. Please, I want to know !!!
^o^
(christianity mention jump scare below proceed with caution)
i thought this would be an easy to answer but figuring out how to put my feelings into words proved difficult .
the beginning is always a good place to start, so let's go with that. by chance, i happened upon this video on youtube and gave it a watch. about halfway in i decided i had to read notes from underground for myself. i struggled to understand what the narrator was trying to get across. the unique writing style, where the reader is addressed directly, as if in challenge, helped me preserve.
i think part of what makes his work special to me is his depiction of people. and they really do feel like people more than characters, even if some of their characteristics are unique to the era dostoevsky wrote in. everything else about them transcends time. i can see myself in some of them. whether it be the titular idiot, prince myshkin in his naivety; alyosha, who goes from devout to doubting; and ivan, whose bitterness toward religion masks his disappointment at the state of the world. 
that's why the brothers karamazov touched me in particular. for some context, i grew up in a christian household and was heavily involved in the church (american northeast white baptist strand of church). around when i was 11 or so, the introduction of left-wing politics through social media had me undergo a looooong identity crisis. these new ideas felt at odds with what i'd spent my entire life believing. what i grappled with the most relates to ivan's anecdote, the grand inquisitor, where the goodness of god is called into question. the bitterness, the disappointment from crushed expectations, all those sensations resonated strongly with me. reading it as an adult who (supposedly) 'healed' from that time period in my life was like opening pandora's box. i'd never seen my thoughts and struggles so accurately described, or treated with more than a 'his ways are higher than our ways' type platitude. i stuffed these concerns of mine away because they only ever served to make me feel worse.
i won't delve deep into the Depressing Lore. the only reason i mention it is to stress how profound an impact the work had on me. throughout the remainder of TBK (and in most of dostoevsky's discography), the best and worst of humanity is shown. our hypocritical nature, capacity for evil; nothing is shied away from or made more palatable. and yet, throughout it all, our potential for good is shown too. whether it be in the little acts or monumental self-sacrifice. sometimes those acts are honored, or ‘worth it,’ sometimes they aren’t. it’s cheesy but whatever i’ll say it — choosing to love and serve others is my greatest joy. i don’t really need a definitive answer to those problems i struggled with. that’s the takeaway i’ve had from his work. it might not seem like a big deal, but not feeling guilty for having certain doubts or anxious over those doubts never fully being resolved was. very significant for me. and healing (for real this time). 
so that’s the sentimental perspective GJSDLKFJS from my writer’s perspective, i can only describe him as brilliant. his grasp on the human psyche is incredible. he can accurately describe so many emotions, worldviews, and give the context necessary for each one to feel organic and real. it’s vivid, too, in a way i can’t properly get across. everyone’s unfiltered and messy. characters contradict themselves in the same sentence. they’ll murmur, go off on tangents, tell stories, misquote the bible (or many other significant works), and just be overall disasters. aka how people actually are. 
the man’s also funny as hell. the protagonist from crime and punishment has a mental breakdown spanning multiple pages over a sock. yes, there’s context, but that’s still the gist of things. then there’s the issue of the hedgehog in the idiot. hedgehog drama. 
ultimately, his work is so very human. there’s commentary on issues that are prevalent to this day, multiple centuries later. the topics he touches on tend to align with what i care about most. whether i agree or disagree with what i’m reading, there’s always something i glean from it. something meaningful that sits with me long after i close the book. i’ll mull over it and bother people in my vicinity until they mull over it too. no one is safe. whether it be a co-worker or my dad who drives noticeably faster to reach our destination and be free of my many questions.
i could keep going but this ended up being long enough GJSKDF i hope at least something here makes sense?>?? i apologize for the incoherent ramblings. it's what the dude does to me.
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ceasarslegion · 1 month
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wait, now im really interested in the silica gel drama. how did hlrp sex ed lead to eating a gel packet?
This is going to require a novel's length of context.
To begin, I want to underline that this is not meant to be a callout post, and I will not be providing any identifying traits that could be used to single this person out. The most you will get out of that are she/her pronouns, and her age at the time this happened, which was years ago, and I will not specify what year. I genuinely do hope she got the help she needed after this, because LORD knows she needs it and didn't find it at home. This is also not meant to be a character assassination, nor should anybody who reads this post consider it to be a takedown of any sort, and if you try to find this person through me or any of our mutual friends, you will not be met with kind words. The only thing this is meant to be is a wild-ass story of some of the most off the wall experiences I personally had with this person from my specific side of the story, with a few no-username screenshots attached to prove I am not bullshitting you.
With that in mind, let's get started. This is going to be very long, so I'm throwing in a read more
Back when I was in uni, I joined a growing group of Half Life roleplay blogs. The whole idea of our group was that we each chose a character, canon or OC, and we would blog as if the pre-Black Mesa incident moment in the timeline was a workplace comedy a la The Office or Superstore. I played Barney, because I was already working night shift security at this point and thought it would be funny. Plus, it gave me something to do that wasn't staring at CCTV feeds all night tossing a ball against the wall. We played off of each other very well, yes-anding our way through funny little situations and plotlines we put together. At one point we had roleplayed enough that one of the scientist rpers created a discord server for us to talk as the actual people we are instead of through characters.
Great idea at the time. None of us saw the "Pandora's box" label on the tin before we opened it. Would I still join it if I knew what was about to transpire? Yes, because I met my boyfriend and many genuinely lovely friends through it. Would I hesitate for a second first, though, as the events that are about to transpire flashed before my eyes? Oh, abso-fucking-lutely.
We started off as many fandom servers do: chill for the most part, very loud minority of a few assholes who ruined it for the rest of us, but unlike most fandom servers, we actually won and it ended in them getting banned and the server itself surviving to this day. But the other two lunatics are not who you came here for. You want the christian lunatic.
Let's give her a nickname to make this easier. I have the Sylveon build a bear on my PC desk. Let's call her Syl.
Syl was not there for Half Life, she was there for Portal. She LOVED Portal, Half Life was just part of the same universe for her. Portal wasn't just a game for her, it was her entire personality. Which I didn't see much of an issue with at the time, because she said she was 15. Whatever, I thought; she'll learn to control her emotional attachment to things as she gets older. Syl also said that she was christian. I am a flaming atheist who doesn't even believe in the concept of a soul in comparison and I am NOT the biggest fan of christianity as an institution to put it mildly, but I'm not gonna like, be a dick to you for your personal religion if you are not a dick about my beliefs, so I didn't think much of it at the time.
It quickly became apparent that Syl looked up to me more than any of the other adults in the group the more I would talk about my life growing up as a third culture kid and moving out on my own at 19, working 2 jobs and going to a good university. She would ask me a lot about growing up and uni and moving out and yes, sex ed, and it became even more apparent that she didn't get any actual guidance from her parents or pastors or ANYBODY beyond bible studies and homeschooling, so I kinda stumbled into a mentorship role in her life. I wasn't cold, but I was aware of the age and maturity difference between us and established the appropriate boundaries with her and made it very clear that I am an internet friend, not an irl friend or an educator, but if no one else was going to give her information that wasn't actively harmful then fuck, I guess SOMEONE had to do it. I could not in good conscience watch some kid go through life with harmful inaccuracies about the world and basic human biology when I could have done something about it, y'know?
And the more things I taught her about the real world and how things actually work rather than how her republican bible-thumping rural town said they did, the more I realized she was born into a full-blown cult under the guise of a christian congregation. Oh goody, I had my work cut out for me. I will not get into the details of how messed up this group was because it will be a dead giveaway of where she lives and potentially who she is, but let's just say that one time I said that I appreciated the gesture of praying for me during a stressful week I was having but it didn't really do anything for my mental health because I was an atheist, and she sent me a bunch of bible verses begging me to start believing and said "I just don't want you to go to hell because you're so nice :((" EXCUSE ME??? Another time she said that death was only sad for non-christians because their loved ones were in hell and that proper christians deaths were a good thing because they were in heaven now. Hi, that's the most insensitive death cult shit I've ever heard in my goddamn life.
Okay, set up is done. All of these details will tie in like the world's worst reboot of Pulp Fiction, I prommy.
After a good long while learning about the world from me (which like... a uni kid working night shift security is not exactly an academic source but we take what we can get) and exposure to viewpoints outside of her in-group, Syl began that very painful journey of realizing that what the cult taught you was a lie. Except that she just wasn't grasping that unlearning things was an active process. She started to flip to the opposite side very quickly, but kept all the fundamental brainwashing of the cult that raised her. The concepts were all the same, just slapped a different label on them. This created a noticeable pull between two sides of the same personality: the cult personality, and the person beyond the cult who wanted to break free. Mix that with how fucking 15 years old every 15 year old is, and you have a LETHAL concoction just waiting to blow up at the first sign of a spark.
Remember how I said that Portal was her whole personality? Syl decided that she wanted to be a scientist, and go into an ivy league program like I was in (I was in a SOCIAL science, but sure). Problem was, she didn't have the grades or the ambition, really. I had told her that I still got into an ivy league when I failed math in high school, and she seemed to completely miss the part where I said that I also joined every extra-curricular, then worked for 2 gap years for recognized institutions, and wrote an essay about why my math grade is not relevant to my program. I did it with one bad grade, so she was justified in basically just slacking off and then excusing it with "but its haaarrrdd" when we'd tell her she needs to put the fucking work in NOW if that's what she wants to do.
It quickly derailed from here. Not only was she going to be a scientist, she was going to be like Cave Johnson. And she was going to... replace her body with robot parts so she could be like glados. I don't... think she actually knew what science is, because she would just publically fantasize about running unethical experiments on people in the name of "science," and talk about how one day she wants to basically establish aperture labs for real. All of us who were there kind of agree that we don't think she was joking based on what we knew about her and the cadence of her tone. Here's something she said at the time to give you an idea of what direction she was nosediving in:
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This was after a session with her therapist where said therapist said that she definitely has some kind of personality disorder, after which she was weirdly proud of having one and treated it like a badge of honour.
Syl then made a separate group chat for all the best friends she made on the server. There was her, me, @false-pyre, and @imtheaura. She titled it "My Family," despite the fact that we were all adults and she was 15 and she only knew us over a discord half life server where one person in it stepped up to somewhat equip her for real life outside of a cult. Regardless though that GC was more the vibe of a group of friends sharing memes and chatting about the day than the wider server was at the time. The others began to also take on a sort of mentorship role towards her as well, because that's kind of inevitable when you get someone talking about teenager problems in a room full of adults who all made the same mistakes before in their own lives. Well, minus the cult.
And remember how I said that she didn't unlearn any of the cult shit? Well, there was a lot of proselytizing. She decided she wasn't christian for a spell, but still wanted us and everyone to know that jesus was the lord and savior and we had to accept him or we'd burn in hell. Usually said after we'd make some joke about satan being daddy or declaring ourselves god instead, because that is just the type of humor the others and i have with each other. She took it so personally whenever one of us would go "oh my god" "you called?" it was fucking annoying. I lost count of the amount of lectures she gave us, all of which I'd shut down and tell her to get a grip about because I have a big stupid mouth.
The others and I also like to talk about evolution, and speculate about where we're going from here. My fucking god, did she not like that. She bit our heads off about how evolution isn't real and god made everyone as we are and there's no scientific evidence or whatever the hell. Like yeah good luck getting into STEM with that mindset. Whenever we pointed out that she was objectively wrong about that, she'd have a big stupid meltdown about how much we're slandering god and how jesus died for us and we're spitting in his face or whatever. He should spit in MY face inste-*GUNSHOT*
Eventually, we were making some actual progress with her. She was still one fry short of a happy meal and going off about how much she wanted to put living subjects in test tubes in between knocking on our doors and reciting Hello from the Book of Mormon musical, but we were getting somewhere. And then she went back to in person school, and her favourite teacher got fired.
The schoolboard did not say why she got fired, but we all had our suspicions that it was because she openly supported queer rights in a cult town. She was coincidentally retired shortly after making a declaration that queer people are still welcome in god's kingdom. This teacher was the first in person adult Syl had for guidance, so that incident shook her to her core, and she fell right back into the extremism. Hook, line, and sinker, even more extreme than before.
She was WEIRD that week, man. Suddenly everything was about how great god was, how amazing jesus was. Suddenly she understood why her cult member parents "just wanted to protect her" from gay characters on disney+ originals. Suddenly no one could say "jesus christ lol" around her or she'd have a fit. I said "I hate cycle counts lmao i wanna kms" because my then-job (I had graduated at this point) made me do inventory management spontaneously and wouldn't let me go home until I had counted every product in the store, and she bit my head off accusing me of turning suicide into a joke.
It was that incident that made us tell her to knock it off already, that we understood it was a hard week for her and she was in a period of grief, but that is no excuse for how she had been acting towards everyone around her that wasnt christian, and that she was actively relapsing. I'll let the exchange speak for itself:
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So uh. After years of helping Syl through this she goes and pulls this bullshit. And then has the fucking AUDACITY to act like nothing ever happened in the wider server. I am genuinely gobsmacked by the balls on her to act like it was all sunshine and rainbows in the wider server after sending this and immediately leaving the same GC SHE made and titled "My Family" just because we told her to stop acting like a goddamn Jonestown citizen after all the work we'd put in to get her out of that mentality at this point.
So I dragged her up in front of everyone and essentially said "no, nuh uh, you don't get to say that shit to the people who have lost sleep and asked for nothing in return trying to help you escape a cult over the last 2 years and then act like we're all buddy buddy to everybody else. You don't get to be that arrogant and self-righteous without any consequences. I don't give a fuck how young you are, you DON'T treat the people who have helped you this much like that, you selfish little shit. How dare you treat us like this after all we've done for you over the years."
Unfortunately, no one involved had surviving screenshots of this, but they can back me up on it if they so choose. And oh boy, DID she face the consequences of her own actions. The whole server basically turned their heads and went "what the FUCK is wrong with you, Syl??" and asked her to at least like, apologize. She proceeded to double down with the added audacity of "you guys taught me how to establish healthy boundaries, that's all I'm doing right now :(( oh woe is me :(((" like WOW, okay. Someone's really going for the persecution complex.
Here's her last goodbye to us all before the mass block fest occured:
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Oh, boohoo. You're so hard done by. You spat in the faces of everyone who stayed up all night multiple times helping you through crises and spent the last 2 years teaching you about how the world really worked and then they asked you to apologize after you tried to escape accountability. You truly are god's strongest soldier, the most persecuted minority in the world. Let me play you an ode to how righteous and holy you are and how this was the most important hill to sacrifice all your outsider friendships on on the world's smallest violin.
Syl then went on to post on her roleplay blog that she "was banned because I spoke up for what was right, and they didn't like that" before deleting it. Truly no one has suffered as much as you.
Anyway, the day after that went down, I called in from work, bought this book, and read the whole thing purely out of spite:
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It was greatly therapeutic. After that incident, I vowed to never sanitize my own atheistic beliefs for the benefit of others again. If they don't like them, they don't have to talk to me. But I am not changing them for other people or keeping them quiet just to spare your feelings anymore, I have as much a right to my beliefs as anyone else does, including the world's most persecuted minority here.
And well, the silica gel incident?
There was one incident, during the height of Syl's "I am the irl cave johnson and only want to get into STEM to conduct unethical experiments on people. follow jesus" era, the rest of us were joking about how silica gel packets are the ultimate forbidden snack, and said "haha would eating it make you see shrimp colours" knowing full well it can kill you.
Syl proceeded to actually eat a silica gel packet and then send in "it has a sandy texture and tastes bad" prompting the rest of us to go "WE WERE FUCKING JOKING FIND YOUR POISON CONTROL HOTLINE RIGHT NOW"
And because i didnt get this done until now, I'll tag everyone who said they wanted to read this or expressed interest: @captainjonnitkessler @formydarlingtoread @cra-zwizard @chasingnightrainbows
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decepti-thots · 3 months
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Brainstorm character thoughts?
First impression: This character archetype could get kinda old, kinda fast, ehhh.
Impression now: It did not. I love Brainstorm, and tbh I probably ought to talk about him more. He's just so fucking good. The trick the story pulls where on reread you realise there is a whole period he is undergoing a character arc in the background is fantastic, after you have all the context from Elegant Chaos. His weird friendship with Chromedome, the understated way him being an MTO seems to have impacted his apathy towards the war, the ambiguity of his connection with Quark versus the gravity the narrative affords his feelings anyway… just great shit all around. The potentially one-note "haha Funny Weapon Explode Snarky Man" character turning out to be that was such a good thing to experience reading through for the first time.
Favorite moment: Can I cheat. Every moment he has in Elegant Chaos. Oh fine I'll pick one, his inability to shoot "Megatron" but his bluffing about it to everyone even as they're all thinking the worst of him! That whole scene is so. Brainstorm. Brainstorm PLEASE.
Idea for a story: I wanted more of the Brainstorm-Rewind dynamic, and honestly what I truly do wish we had in canon is them having a conversation about what Brainstorm knows of Chromedome's past, self-destructive behaviour, re: his previous cojunxes. Brainstorm loves Chromedome, but in a very different way to Rewind- he can't have that idealized view Rewind has because Chromedome has screwed him over directly in ways Brainstorm has gotten so used to he barely expects better anymore. I would love to see that conversation between them.
Unpopular opinion: I don't take the ending of LL as any kind of confirmation that Brainstorm/Perceptor is canon. I think you can read it that way if you wish, but IMO it's not obviously the case and I broadly don't think resolving that little c-plot with romance is all that necessary, so as someone not into the ship or anything I don't really bother adding that element in when thinking about post-canon.
Favorite relationship: Chromedome and Brainstorm. Hands down. Their friendship is CRIMINALLY underappreciated in fandom if you ask me, they are weird and prickly and sarcastic and in some ways not even great for each other. And also, Brainstorm was going to erase himself from existence after seeing Chromedome have the war take everything from him one too many times. Like. God.
Favorite headcanon: Brainstorm is really ambivalent about his alt mode because it's a military one, but he's never really been able to work out what he'd prefer, so he hasn't re-framed despite that now being a possibility.
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bentosandbox · 1 year
Text
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Lappy fancam animatic blogging/production notes
now that wolfgirlyaoi is out on global its rambling time about my powerpoint presentation
Concept
Originally I wanted to do an (Tex & Lapp) animatic with the boss theme (broken wall/Signore dei Lupi .mp3) ever since the event dropped but I thought 1) by the time I finished anything someone else would have probably already done it first (lol, lmao even) 2) I remembered the song exists and how much i looped it then while listening to the group's new album drop and thought the lyrics fit Lapp a little too well and also doesn't end abruptly like the boss theme + was shorter so yea
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initial stickman storyboard where i put down the lyrics with event dialogue/happenings that i felt would fit nicely together > hastily scribble the images that form in my head
storyboards were basically what i wanted to see (same rule as my comics) lol especially if they weren't shown in the event CGs, eg. there's a CG of the truck crashing into the courtroom so I didn't do that but they didn't mention her physical acting in that scene + the song I used has a bow/salute at that exact part in their live choreo with the very similar line so I wanted to do a homage even though-
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-I was like it's going to be such a pain to figure out an economical hand twirl and bow but I have to do this I need to transplant the image in my brain onto the screen because official media did not do a—
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Honestly still don't know if its a common phrase and action combo because I was having so much trouble finding external references that wasn't just scrubbing the live video over and over anyway
part of the storyboards were 'recycled' from comic drafts I did (of the chocolate scene because ofc) when the event was running on CN
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Originally I wanted to draw Lapp feeding Texas for The Girlyaoi Funny but I wanted to reference the plaque you get which is a Creation of Adam reference right but I also saw people saying it's referencing the scene from Silence of the Lambs lol so...peel the layers to your liking!!
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(The chocolate flavour choice was from asking my Columbian friends what the worst chocolate flavour they ever tried which was white coconut)
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my sorry attempt at colour keys > final spreadsheet to keep track of progress and paste all the dialogue i put in
Art Direction
A bunch of shots/colour schemes are references to Måneskin's stuff or other media tehepero I'll just put a few here
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At first I was going to limit red/blue to tex/lapp respectively but since Omertosa is blue I just did away with that rule and lapp gets to have both (and more!) these two colours have pretty obvious emotional readings I think but also
red = self blue = society Siracusa or: red = yaoi & blue = yuri
for the others:
Purple = Alberto/Saluzzo, its not orange like the fruit he keeps holding because see below; I needed the colour for something else LOL Also the Saluzzos are iirc nobility or whatever and they have purple hints in their clothes so I think it was a good fit anyway
Yellow/Orange = Its supposed to be representing the last word in the story which apparently, yostar went with 'Savagery' which is Correct I guess but (laments again about how nuance is lost in localisation because imo savagery has a more derogatory kind of connotation while I think 蛮荒 in context of the story also has a 'nature/untouched by civilisation' side to it) which is why Texas setting the house on fire was not (entirely) red but orange (and it complements the blues both visually and thematically) and it's yellow at the end when they're frolicking(?) in the wilderness lol
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(these colour rules don't apply to the penglog shot and technically a few frames like the shot with shocked penance, the one right after and 'im just lappy' because...i forgor my own rules lol)
The greens/teals were just a reference to the shades in the 3DPV I think
The silhouette/general style was inspired from the 3D teaser thing they had at the beginning of the 3.5 anniversary stream and the card suits that I..forgot to move to the other layers which is why only the green one had them (supposed to be 1 per set 💀)
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The clash bit is basically the same as the event CG but with a flipped camera/POV sorry for world's worst screenshot lmao. Couldn't imagine the poses in my head so I ended up posing 3d models in CSP pretty good posing practice
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These shots got rendered extra because..they were the first frames I started on and I was still figuring out how much to simplify lol
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I also posed the chairs shot for some inexplicable reason…my file was lagging so bad
Headcanon part (kind of)
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The childhood flashback scene is probably the part I took the most liberties (headcanon) on since it's not explicitly canon like the rest...the sequence/how I connected the scenes itself to fabricate a timeline of her childhood was kind of inspired by some weibo post musing about how (iirc) texas's sweet tooth maybe came from when she was being fostered at casa Saluzzo and Lapp treating her like a pet essentially and giving her a lot of treats since...you know what happened to her actual pet hehe except maybe texas offered her a stick first and then Lappy just reciprocated endlessly because its one of the few 'acts' she knew that wasn't violence haha yeah this section was basically a stealth doujin sorry
It's mentioned that she was brought up as the ideal Siracusan or whatever and she does the cute doodle in the 3DPV so I thought she probably had the Forced Music Lessons as a kid (The music sheets are Bella Ciao and of course)
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The bow choreo was the one thing i really wanted to animate but the music sheet segment (based on that one split second shot above) ended up being my favourite part even though compositing the motion was a mini hell on it's own (ended up compiling a long png to scroll by with the red doodles layered over)
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Other things
I will never live down my (self-imposed) shame of misspelling the title (I fixed the title on youtube but its why the ending shot in the upload says ZittE e Buoni instead of ZittI e Buoni) don't rush your fancam in 10 days 😔
I didn't look through the entirety of the EN loc but Idk why they had Lappy say 'Then go.' to Texas when it's supposed to be more like 'Let's go.' as in, 'let's go together' as opposed to 'alright off you go to the greyhall alone' lmfao also her saying goodbye forever padre when addio is right there
I don't think I'm insane enough to do another ppt soon but man this pair really makes the 'imagines a whole music video while listening to music' part of my brain go wheee like first it was Starset's Manifest then Signore de Lupi then this and while working on this one i was thinking how Måneskin's Torna A Casa would be another good track
ok ty for reading #GIRLYAOIREAL
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ryin-silverfish · 14 days
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Hello ryin! I saw in a recent post of yours that you dislike the "class warfare" reading of the Havoc in Heaven arc in JTTW and would honestly love to hear more about your thoughts on that! Your takes have been really interesting.
Thank you!
My biggest problem with the "class warfare" reading is, first and foremost, what it has been historically used for.
Like, after the Havoc in Heaven opera and movie came out, the propagandists absolutely ate it up; SWK was associated with Mao Zedong and used to promote Mao's personality cult, and soon after, the White Bone Spirit story would be interpreted as this fable for the Sino-Soviet split.
Whereas Havoc in Heaven was intended and viewed as a metaphor and love letter to the victory of Chinese revolution, the White Bone Spirit story was interpreted in the context of the horrific fuck-up that is the Great Leap Forward, where the party were starting to doubt its leadership, and the path to the future seemed an uncertain and arduous one——much like the pilgrimage.
So, in the new twist on the "class warfare" narrative, Tripitaka and Pigsy became the poster-boy for "party members who were easily captivated by revisionist ideas" and needed to see how wrong they were, the WBS became the personification of Khruschev, imperialism, capitalism, revisionism...you name it, and SWK the Mao expy who could do no wrong yet was unfairly blamed by everyone.
Came the Cultural Revolution era, SWK would then become a sort of hero and role model for the Red Guards, smashing down all that was considered archaic and backwards, tearing down older authority figures and perceived "class enemies" alike, all the while emboldened by Mao's saying that "To rebel is justified" (造反有理).
Yeah, no, fuck that shit.
Terrible historical baggages aside, it is also a reading that reeks of presentism, and Lin Geng, a renowned professor of literature, had done a thorough takedown of the "SWK as peasant rebel" idea in his 西游记漫话.
Namely, it neither fits the circumstances of Havoc in Heaven, nor SWK's backstory and motivation. He's not rebelling because his monkeys are oppressed by the Celestial Realm, he's doing it because he feels personally slighted.
His mindset is also not that of a traditional peasant; compare and contrast that with Zhu Bajie, whom the author argues is very much peasant-coded in terms of his obsession with going back to Gao Laozhuang, his rake, and his comedic ignorance that stems from urban stereotypes of rural farmers.
To paraphrase Lin Geng, "Not all rebellions and rebel narratives in Chinese history are peasant ones, and we shouldn't just cry 'peasant rebellion metaphor!' the moment we saw a rebellion in fiction."
Lastly and more personally? This reading also tends to remove SWK's depth as a character. The representation of the Mind can be both heroic and flawed, capable of great feats and fuck-ups alike, but the representation of The Revolution has to be heroic and his opponents, whether celestial or demonic, must be evil oppressors and political boogeymen.
Like, the demons in the novel are representations of the mental obstacles a person will face on the path to Enlightenment, but they are also capable of being funny and very human characters, and not all of them wanted to eat Tripitaka.
The Celestial Realm is a satire of the imperial bureaucracy, sure, but the novel is also a product of its time and cannot magically promote 20th century ideas of revolutions and political reforms 500 years before they were a thing. Besides, SWK can still get help from them on the Journey and their relationship is more complicated than "oppressed rebel and oppressors".
And that's exactly why I dislike the "class warfare" reading: it creates a simplistic opposition of good and evil, and tries to squeeze the work into a narrow political framework that is neither nuanced nor accurate.
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