#particularly when other people try to correct either someone else or themself to they/them for me

[lolliepops-rox]

This is my petition for people who create pins/stickers/other things with "she/they" & "he/they" to also include "she/he". I'm kind of sick of being excluded, and I'm sure there are plenty of others who feel the same.

#trans #transgender #genderfluid #bigender #nonbinary #non binary #multigender #polygender #pangender #she/he #he/she #pronouns #talking lollie #anyways. people should maybe share this around #kinda sick of going to cons & seeing my pronoun set excluded #and also everyone assuming all nb people use they/them in some form #particularly when other people try to correct either someone else or themself to they/them for me #like mate... ive literally never used they/them #she/her and he/him aint dirty. please dont act like it.

[crystalkleure]

I have a Concept.

BeyBurst beyblades are supposed to burst. As in, it’s actually a necessity. In spite of the Exploding Beyblade mechanic potentially causing sharp little bits of spintop to go flying everywhere and hit people, what if it’s actually a safety feature?

If I recall correctly, all the way back in s1 territory [specifically in the manga though, can’t remember if we saw it in the anime or not], Valt and Shu just straight-up got their original beys from a store. And there are also all of those Unimportant Characters running around with different-coloured versions of preexisting beys. This indicates that beyblades are, in fact, mass-produced and sold in stores, and those are all built to be able to burst. In fact, I still haven’t seen the newest two seasons of the Burst anime yet, but I’m pretty sure super special fancy custom beys, that some important character explicitly made themself, that have some really creative [and strong] anti-burst features built into them, don’t ever show up as NPC recolour beys? In spite of the trend of “random background characters in new season use recoloured versions of Prominent Character beys from LAST season” to me seeming to indicate that those new recolour beys are either bootleg copycats, or those actual official shelf models have just suddenly started selling really well, due to someone having just recently done something cool with one in a tournament/on TV lol. [Anyway, correct me if I’m wrong on which beys get NPC recolours, I don’t exactly actually, uh, pay attention to all the random background scrubs. That point’s not particularly important anyway because I’m sure unofficial bootlegs are a thing that exists, mmmm delicious plagiarism. The point is the stores seem to sell beys with the normal level of burstability. And so I’m only caring about the everyday random NPCs with no names or anything, if another important character specifically goes and painstakingly recreates a bey similar or identical to another important character’s bey just because they idolize that other character, that doesn’t count. That’s not important here, implication-wise.] So...

What if it’s actually a really bad thing that people keep making their own custom beys now that are increasingly more and more ludicrously difficult -- or even near-impossible -- to burst?

What if the self-destruct mechanic is intended to be an emergency shutdown switch, and actually really needs to not be subverted? We’ve seen what an adept beyblader can do while running at full-throttle -- they’re dangerous, to themselves and their surroundings. Beys have the power to be obscenely destructive...while they’re spinning and battling, primarily. They are by far the most potent while actively in use. But if they hit things too hard like 3-4 times or so...they burst. Their locks disengage, they fall apart, and thus they are forced to abruptly stop. That makes them theoretically incapable of just rampaging indefinitely.

Picture this: One day, in the probably-decently-distant history of the BeyBurst world, a kid has a spintop. Probably made that spintop themself. This kid, it turns out, happens to be one of the Super Special Powerful Kids, who’s not only REALLY GOOD at using that spintop, they also possess that funny little supernatural ability to accidentally create an incredibly powerful incorporeal monster ghost creature thing with their brain. And because they love playing with their little spintop so much, that spintop becomes the vessel for this Terrifying Monster-Shaped Culmination Of Spiritual Elemental Energy or whatever that they’ve manifested. That’s...good, probably, because at least that means the Scary Monster Thing isn’t 1. just stuck in the kid’s brain with nowhere else to go, which would lead to possession that would decidedly be incredibly difficult to deal with without harming the kid, or 2. funneled into something more dangerous to control, like a car or a nuclear warhead or some shit. But then it turns out that the kid is ABSOLUTELY still able to wreak impressive havoc and cause Large Amounts Of Destruction, even accidentally...until the spintop stops spinning. The Power Level drops dramatically as soon as the demon top is still, and it takes a little while for it to build back up once it’s launched again. But what if a feature is implemented into the spintop that allows it to keep spinning for much, much longer? Or just The Supernatural Monster Power itself becomes capable of sustaining it, through wind manipulation or something?

Now, imagine you’re idk, the government or something, someone with Power and Influence over the masses, and you see THAT happen. Shit, that was just a random kid that did that! Looked like any other kid, acted like any other kid! There is no feasible way to tell a kid with Brain Monster potential apart from other kids who are NOT That Powerful, until a brain monster happens. So, if you can’t predict it, and thus can’t do anything to mitigate the potential destruction on a case-by-case basis...well, how about you convince ALL the little kiddies that spintops are just the greatest thing ever, everyone should play with spintops, AND you ensure those spintops are mass-manufactured specifically to not be able to Hold A Charge for too long because...they burst! You’ve designed them so that violence itself causes them to fall apart and stop to cool down! It’s perfect! That way, anytime an odd mutant child with Brain Monster powers comes along, the chance of them funneling their Brain Monster into their spintop is now Very High, meaning that all the Brain Monsters will hopefully end up inhabiting these little plastic toys that actively inhibit them instead of possessing children or nukes. It’s brilliant!

This does raise some questions, though:

1. What happens when someone’s spintop breaks, and they DON’T get it repaired, after they’ve already manifested a Brain Monster to live in it? Where would the Brain Monster go in that case? Uh oh, demon on the loose? Exactly what we were trying to avoid? Shu’s change between Legend Spriggan and Spriggan Requiem in God does seem to indicate that the Brain Monster probably 1. by default, does just camp out in its blader’s brain until a new Spintop Vessel is created for it, and 2. the Brain Monster itself is probably not actually completely strictly sealed into any bey, because it doesn’t disappear as soon as the bey is destroyed, and it doesn’t stay with an old/broken bey that’s been discarded when a new bey has been made for it. Legend Spriggan was discarded and left on the riverbed, and Spriggan Requiem was then made from scratch, seemingly using no recycled physical parts from Legend Spriggan, but Spriggan Requiem’s bitbeast looks only very slightly different from Legend Spriggan’s. All of Shu’s Spriggans are honestly probably still the same creature, just progressively evolved. I don’t think we’ve ever seen somebody make an entirely NEW Brain Monster that does not resemble their original one, it seems the original simply gets developed more and more. One person apparently only possesses the ability to make a single individual Brain Monster. You Get One (1), but you can upgrade it. But what about Hearts? His Dead Hades, which very much had a Brain Ghost in it, was not only destroyed, but assimilated into Phi’s Revive Phoenix, to make Dead Phoenix. What happened to that situation, over time? We haven’t gotten to see. Is Hearts’ Hades truly actually fused with Phi’s Phoenix, ceasing to be its own entity anymore, or does Phoenix simply very slightly resemble Hades now due to its bey being upgraded with physical bits of Hades’ bey? What if it’s not even POSSIBLE to truly fuse Brain Ghosts, especially without consent? In which case...is Hades itself just lingering around back in Hearts’ brain, waiting for a new bey to inhabit, and Hearts isn’t making one because he doesn’t realize Hades isn’t just Part Of Phoenix now? That sounds potentially dangerous, there’s no more outlet for your Brain Ghost, buddy. I want to see Phi and Hearts again, to know what eventually happened there.

2. Why do the tournaments not actually enforce a rule that says “Your bey HAS to be able to be reasonably burstable”? Chouzetsu Wings and the Mugen Lock System did not equal disqualifications. Has it maybe, over time, been forgotten exactly WHY we Need Beys To Burst? Well, that’s a ticking time bomb, then. How difficult a bey is to burst does seem to directly cause its Potential Destructiveness Levels to scale accordingly. [With somewhat of an exception of Pot and his Pegasus, but it should be noted that Pot was not exactly terribly serious about beyblade initially and yet was STILL considered one of the strongest ‘bladers in the world, GT3 iirc, AND he’s very into the whole “Love and light, chillax, be in-tune with yourself and all the energy in and around you, etc.” peaceful thing.] This HAS To Be A Problem. Why is nobody concerned.

3. ...What is causing the general public not to panic about this? Why are people okay with Brain Ghost and Mass Spintop Destruction happening, instead of terrified? This shit is broadcast on TV. The stands during tournaments are packed with spectators. It may be that perhaps not everybody can SEE the Brain Ghosts themselves [and I’m skeptical about that, because there have absolutely been MANY indications that other people know what someone’s bitbeast looks like], but the Big Bada Booms they cause are DAMN sure Highly Visible. Aiga’s father seems to be the only one truly properly concerned about the incredible mass-destructive potential of the spintops. Realistically, The Salem With Trials 2: Electric Boogaloo should be happening due to the Scary Spintop Kids being Fucking Scary, and sometimes quite clearly even out-of-control of themselves.

Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure this is not a direction canon will ever go in, or I think it would have already done it. I don’t think they’re going to explore this route. It’s a shame I don’t have the chops for writing long-haul fanfiction, because if I did I would absolutely be hardcore capitalizing on this idea. This has incredible Worldbuilding Lore Potential.

#Someone else write a huge fanfic about it so I can read it #BeyBurst #Beyblade Burst #CK's headcanon #CK dissects #I am super not sure what to tag this as because it's so hypothetical but also a solid argument could be made for plausibility here #Also excuse my incoherency I just woke up and finally had to put this concept into words immediately #Long post

[hyrule-kingdom-updates]

ALL of the emojis for Siv :D

What is the kindest thing your OC has ever done for someone? What is the kindest thing someone has ever done for them? On the flip side, what is the worst thing your OC has done to another person?

I don’t think I can point out a *single* ultimate kind act, but Siv raising and caring for his brother throughout their whole childhood is definitely one of the kindest periods of his life. Spoilers, but: Siv didn’t actually believe himself to be capable of being a knight, in fact Ligero was specifically trying to keep him out of Larc’s life, letting them grow to be more independent, giving Siv every reason to be jealous and spiteful. But Siv trained to be a knight anyways because he didn’t want his brother to be alone through it all. He would never admit it, but Siv is a really kind and soft person. He cared for everyone of LinkLink’s scars and scabs when they went shield surfing, he took Zavis to a surprise party when his mother didn’t bother to throw anything that special. He wrote Revali letters, he sewed little rat plushies for Aryll to add to her collection—and I think it all stems from his childhood, where the only thing that he was certain of, the only choice that he could without a doubt claim was a good and kind thing that he didn’t mess up on, was caring and loving for someone that he by all other means didn’t have to.

As for the kindest thing someone has done for him, well honestly I think Siv would consider anyone giving him a basic amount of respect and appreciation as the “kindest” thing. Although once, Zavis allowed himself to team up with Link to plan a perfect party for Siv, which is to say, a very notable feat.

As for the worst thing Siv has done to someone: that’s probably spoilers. :3

What does your OC do when they see others upset or in pain? An upset friend? A stranger?

If a stranger was upset, Siv would probably just think, “Sucks to suck!” and move on. Unless they were like, REALLY sobbing, to the point where it would be impossible to ignore. Then he might stop walking, chat them up and buy them a drink, maybe hear their woes, but that’s probably it.

If it was a friend, he’d be immediately on their case, but would still try to play it off as him being an apathetic, disgruntled guy. But you know, Siv didn’t become an official royal Branch Buddy for nothing.

What is something true about your OC that they refuse to admit about themselves? Is there any reason to this besides embarrassment?

Under absolutely no circumstances will Siv admit that he is shorter than anyone. He finds it completely unfair that BOTH of his brothers are taller than him. He would hate it if you told him so, but Siv without a doubt has inherited a bit of his father’s ego, so calling him short, or even complimenting his hot royal guard brother when Siv is right there would ruffle his feathers to say the least

Describe a regular day for your OC. What is their schedule (if they have one).

Pre-Orator days, Siv basically wakes up whenever he wants (usually past noon), feeds the pet rats in the alleyways, then heads to the underground. Everyday is scraping enough rupees for a hot meal and a drink by selling illegal tickets to the underground monster fights, maybe organize a rigged gambling ring or two, and obviously scam any ten year olds that were looking to enter the world of pocket monster fighting themselves. Then when the “work” day is done, he’ll pop by an adequate tavern (the only one that would tolerate letting someone like him around) and eat and drink, and...that’s pretty much it.

As the Royal Orator, Siv wakes up and immediately heads to the dining hall, then hauls all the food and drink over to his office by 10am, cause that’s when his official work hours kick in. He then has to just sit there, listen to people’s grievances and input that will promptly be ignored (by either his hand, or most certainly by his superiors) while also posting out the important announcements and rat doodles with the Quill of Roost(both pre and post consumption). He might grab lunch in between and do fuck all, but by 9pm he’s gone out and about, doing whatever it takes to get as little sleep as possible because he doesn’t really like the sort of dreams he’s been having.

Current Siv doesn’t have a schedule, but he does have an agenda.

How does your OC think they will die? Does death scare them? Is there any reason for this?

Siv isn’t thinking about death. In truth, he thought he would have died much, MUCH earlier. Maybe get stabbed or executed? Maybe have a poor run in with an ex or particularly angry victim of his scams? But hey, now that’s he’s living the high life with all this power, he doesn’t care about death! For all he knows, he could live forever as long as he sticks with Ganon! All he has to do is follow what he says, and he’ll be happy forever and never have to fear anything ever again.

What is your OC’s most traumatic experience? (If they don’t have just one traumatic experience either pick one or describe them all!)

The Asunder Incident.

Siv constantly questions himself after that, “Why would I do that? Was I really capable of killing someone? Surely not, I’m not...I’m not that bad...” but the facts obviously stated otherwise. This was basically the incident that cemented himself as the person he is at the start of hku, apathetic and broken. He wouldn’t admit it then, but this singular event basically solidified everyone’s prejudice and perception of him, and rightfully proved them correct. It was his own actions that left him hated, abandoned, and alone, so yeah, he can’t complain now, it’s all his fault.

How would your OC react to the death of a friend/family member/loved one? Is there anyone they can confide in?

If Ligero died he would throw a fucking party for the ages.

Other than that, yeah, if someone he knew and cared about died he would be very heart broken about it. I think the only person he would really confide in about it would be Larc, but if it WAS Larc that died...I can only assume he would at the very least be severely depressed. He’s his favourite, cherished, little brat brother, after all.

What would your OC be like if they were evil. Or if they’re already evil what would they be like as the good guy?

This is an interesting question given that...I’ve already shown both sides to this, haven’t I? Maybe I’ll just let the story speak for itself...

How would your OC react to somebody telling them that they love them? (+ bonus give another characters/OC name!)

Siv would first play it off as a joke because defense mechanism! “Haha, yeah, and you know what I love? The bathroom!” and he would be off escape the situation. But if they were persistent, he would be very flustered and very...vulnerable, and scarily sentimental in his opinion. It would take some time, but I believe eventually he would really, truly accept it, in the end. Although patience is certainly a virtue, it took an entire childhood for him to use the L word for his brother.

What does your OC hate about themself? What lies about themself do they believe? On the flip side, What does your OC love about themself?

He hates being a bad person. He does not believe himself to be good or worthy of anything, thus he internalizes it wholeheartedly in order to gain that sense of control. So now that Siv’s accepted he will never be truly happy, he’s like, “Great! I can just not care about anyone else now.”

Thankfully, that’s changed recently, and he now believes, “You know what? I’m NOT a bad person! It’s everyone else that’s been wronging me! The problem with me is that I’ve been way to much of a coward to take what I deserve, so now I’m gonna do it, no matter what! I deserve to not be hurt anymore, and if I can’t do whatever it takes to achieve that, then how can I say I deserve to be happy in the first place?” Be sure to thank Calamity Ganon for that pep talk.

Right now Siv loves his power. He’s had the most control and power in this one relationship with Ganon than he’s ever had with anyone else in his entire life. He’s finally on top! Number one! He has something to really be proud of about himself! The old Siv hated themselves, but now that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Does your OC have any scars? How and when did they get them?

He doesn’t have any notable scars, especially given that he’s got the power o’ malice, baby! Malice is a representation of many things, one of them being time and memory, so it’s pretty easy for it to heal and return skin, flesh, and bone to a prior state. Perfect for healing and repairing people and objects, alike! Of course, malice is more famous for doing the opposite, sucking your soul out from you prematurely, feeling yourself die rapidly, your last breath being snatched and forced out of your lungs, a thousand breaths meant for a lifetime suddenly sapped out in a few minutes. But I don’t know why I’m talking about that, that’s not relevant haha

What is something your OC blames themself for and is it really their fault? Does it keep them up at night and is there any lingering trauma?

The Asunder Incident, he blames his actions for leading him to basically abandon his brother for like fifteen years. But that’s all I’m gonna say as I have plans to talk about his feelings on it further in the actual story.

In what situation would your OC be pushed to commit an act of violence? Would they go as far to kill someone if they had to? How would this affect them and their relationships with others?

Why, I can’t answer this in detail! That’d be giving away the story :3

Ok, maybe I’ll say this: Siv tells himself that he would do anything to get what he wants, of course he would do anything, because if he can’t, well then that just means he’s a pathetic coward who doesn’t deserve happiness anyways. So of course he claims that he will do anything, even killing someone.

What would your OC do if they were given god-like powers or the ability to change anything about the world for a whole day?

Siv would eliminate all shitty parents, maybe also give revive some dead people, and also permanently have a giant neon green tattoo of a dick be on Ligero’s forehead. Assivus would do the first thing, but he might also make everyone who has ever wronged him suffer for a very long time on top of that.

Describe one of your OC’s worst nightmares.

- Oh no, made a ficlet.

The first night he was in the castle, he had a dream.

There was a man, sitting across from him, dressed in glittering gold, with a green sash wrapped across his chest and waist. He was tapping his long nails against a desk, HIS desk, the white and purple quill still in the cup of ink, and blank parchment in front of him.

The man looked very out of place, and that was ignoring the fact that he was a withering corpse.

You’re dashing, aren’t you? The man said, still tapping his fingers. That’s when Siv realized that he was just sitting opposite to him, in the seat where guests were supposed to be. He tried to speak, but couldn’t. He tried to move, but couldn’t. He tried to blink, but didn’t.

He sat there and listened to the man, attentively.

Do you know what you’re doing here, Asunder? the man asked. Asivus didn’t. Do you know why I’ve allowed you here? What you are?

Siv didn’t know, but he couldn’t exactly express as such.

That’s because you don’t need to know. At least for now. The man leaned forward like mist, disappearing as Siv felt something pass through him, he couldn’t turn to look behind him as a delicate hand was on his shoulder. You’ll know things when I want you to know. You’ll say things when I want them to be said. And you will do things when I want them to be done. Because I own you. Err...

The man suddenly stopped to think, leaning on the right arm of Siv’s chair, tapping his bony chin, as if he had made a casual slip of the tongue. Because...you owe me. Yes, that’s the word. I’ve helped you so much Assivus Asunder. Or “will?” “Have?” “Am currently?” Futures and times are a funny thing. I apologize, I’ll have my words sorted out into something more professional and proper in our future.

The man spun around, and suddenly, he was no longer a corpse, but a dashing Gerudo man, dressed brilliantly and handsomely. His eyes were no longer a hollow gold, but green, somehow familiar.

The room was no longer some dinky orator office, but the sanctum of the castle, the apex of the kingdom. The man snapped his head towards him.

Let me ask you something, Assivus Asunder: Would you rather be here?

He gestured to the grand view of the sanctum, the sunset casting striking shades of red, black, and gold across the towering walls.

Or here?

The world spun once again, and they were suddenly on a dark street. The houses of Rauru diced the stone brick pavement. Siv glanced around and saw himself, sitting on the ground. There were two knights, one of them cursing loudly, and the other laying down beside him. There was so much blood and he could feel himself floating closer and—

No. NO. Wait. STOP. PLEASE! He tried to speak, scream, anything. No sound came. He saw a sword, a dark and rich puddle that seemed to even reflect his own face and—

They were suddenly back in the office.

Which is better? What do you prefer, of the two? I’m assuming the former? The man looked at him. I will allow you to nod yes or no to the former.

Siv immediately nodded a yes.

Trick question!The man boomed. Both are fantastic places, environments that you should love and cherish. There is so much good hiding in the places you would least expect, Assivus. I’ll help you remember that.

The world was suddenly nothing. Nothing but black. Just him, in a chair, staring at this smiling, pleasant, scary, red haired man. 

Don’t you want help, Assivus? I think there’s something you want, that you need help attaining? Isn’t there something? There’s no shame in admitting.

Siv thought for a moment, then slowly nodded a yes.

Do you want MY help?

Uhh...Siv wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Perhaps you can do a favor for me?

Fuck no! was Siv’s immediate thought. Who the fuck—First off, I don’t think I really like you, actually, so— 

Oh that’s alright! The man was suddenly very close to his face. Oh shit, could he hear my thoughts? Assivus, you can do whatever you want to do to be happy. I don’t want to force anything from you. He patted his cheek with a very cold hand.

In fact, I’ve now decided you don’t have to do anything for me. I am going to help you, and you don’t need to do anything in return. The man stood back, clasping his hands together. How does that sound?

I... He tried to speak, but remembered he couldn’t even move his lips.

I’m sorry again, Asunder. Here, I’ll allow you to speak now. The man didn’t even wave a hand, but Siv could suddenly feel how hoarse and dry his throat was.

So how about it, Assivus Asunder? I want you to be in charge of your destiny, I want you to be in total control. I would never force anything from you, I will simply be here, by your side, helping here and there, as you...figure it all out. How is that? Does that sound alright?

Siv opened his mouth, but couldn’t decide the words. If I say yes can I go back to sleep? Hella tired...

The man didn’t move, but Siv someone sensed a whisper beckoning somewhere with a “Yes. We’re all tired of many things, aren’t we?”

“O-Ok...” Siv finally said. “Alright, sure. I don’t see why n—”

Before the words were fully out of his mouth, the world suddenly stopped dead, as quick as a snap. He awoke from his bed with a jolt, his heart racing like he had just run a marathon, even though he didn’t find those last moments to be that thrilling or terrifying.

Siv sat for a moment longer, trying to contemplate the dream. But as most dreams are, the memory of it fell out of his grasp like loose sand between his fingers, and soon enough, it was already gone.

He flopped back into bed with a sigh.

Whatever it was, it was probably nothing.

What advice would your OC give to their younger self? What advice does your OC need now?

Already answered in a previous ask c:

#oc ask game #out of character #Asivus Hartell #hku spoilers #Yes the ficlet at the end I'd consider canon

[kc-anathema]

I’m so sorry I did another long post so soon...

So a long time ago, I received a flame on Spec Ops 98: Jazz's Interrogation at Soundwave's Pedes. I hadn’t received a flame in a long time, and I haven’t received one since (which is amazing, since this was on chapter 26 back in...dear heavens, 2015. This fic is officially an epic.)

In fact, I stopped reading the flame once I realized it was a flame, about four chunks in. 2015, five years ago, I was changing principals, changing schools, trying to figure out how to marry my Canadian then-fiance and figure out immigration. (Fun type--marry her in Vegas, wait a couple years, bring her over. Use a lawyer to make sure it’s all kosher.) So yeah, didn’t read.

And then a concerned reader mentioned to me that I didn’t deserve this awful flame and that they loved the story. And I thought...oh yeah, there was a flame on this. That was a couple months ago.

I finally decided to break the flame apart like I used to. This feels very nostalgic to me. I found out that this is really the flamer’s only claim to fame--they flame fics and troll writers. I’m not going to name them then, although you can find the easily on the ff.net review page for this fic.

My father once told me that, if anyone ever spraypainted slurs across my house...leave the slurs up. Don’t pay to remove them. Let the awful words stay up until everyone in the neighborhood is begging us to take them down again.

I think leaving the review there says more about her than me. And I’m going to enjoy clawing this apart, I think, like a cat scratching apart a lizard.

Flame begin:

We’ve got a problem if Soundwave is involved here and he’s not pulling his usual ‘Decepticons, Superior’ line. Add on a fic about perverts and we get this. Ah, well. What are you gonna do?

Remember the character Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory, and how he said “Bazinga” all the time? That kind of went from a joke to an overused character crutch. Like ‘dynomite!’ or ‘did I do that’? Is it really good to rely on a character line to the point where we can call it ‘usual’?

“I’ll take my pleasure and that sweet aft” – Sounds like a cheesy commercial for Robot Chicken. Fireflight is locked up in a dungeon and is about to be whipped by a BDSM Starscream. That’s not at all OOC. Basically it’s a fanfiction that talks about fanfiction.

I...um. Yes. Yes, it’s an OOC line modeled directly after pulp fiction zines and tijuana bibles. I literally looked up several of those on the Internet Archives and various old men’s magazines covers. It’s not fanfiction directly, although it’s certainly what fanfic evolved out of.

Do these look subtle? Low key? Classy? Tasteful? It’s cheap trash and it’s fun as hell. I don’t think readers at the time thought that these were in any way true. This is right along the lines of drawn hentai. So I think the flamer admitted despite themself that I did good.

“We’re stuck here in the middle of a war...we don’t have time for sex” – That’s right. But that fact doesn’t apply does it?

...reading trashy, porny magazines is not sex. It’s actually something you do when you can’t get sex for whatever reason. I would know. A lot of us would know. Apparently not the flamer. No one thinks that “hey, I got a chick/dude willing to bang right now...but the new issue of Men’s World is out! Can’t miss that!” Unless you have some serious fetishes that your partner is too weirded out by, I think this does indeed apply.

Then Jazz gets captured and lo and behold, Soundwave is revealed to be the Christian Grey of the story. I hope he has some maid outfits for Jazz.

...our flamer hits the sludgy bottom of the joke well and grabs their shovel. They do not try very hard for originality in their insults. And, while Grey was a jerk, Fifty Shades wasn’t quite a prisoner of war scenario. No, that was a cheap romance for chicks. I’m writing more akin to men’s...oh.

The flamer is a chick.

Their only bdsm or bad romance experience is with Fifty Shades.

I don’t think they read much.

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnd we have a shower scene. Damn if it’ll be Carrie!

Iiiiiiiiiiiii did not write a shower scene?

Dudette, did you even do the reading you say you did?

There’s no point in adding moral ambiguity, especially in regards to Soundwave. He won’t be swayed easily, or at all, by Jazz’s speech. He’s cold hearted for a reason. He serves the Decepticon cause until the very bitter end. He’s a lot like Shockwave that way. Highly doubtful he would find meaning or even the relevance of writing pornographic fanfiction, but eh, this was never meant to be serious, was it?

...no. It’s a humor fic. The flamer is criticizing a humor fic for being humorous. Kudos for identifying the genre? I mean, the flamer is also complaining that I did not write Soundwave as a one-dimensional factionalist without examining what that means for him and how the mission creep has left the original political crusade behind. It’s not like I took pieces of Soundwave from Gen1, IDW, and the comics and blend them all together.

This reminds me of the fanboys in the TMNT fandom who keep pushing for every iteration to simply rehash their nostalgia boner for the original toon. I feel like I’m getting the Transformers version of wanting less of this:

because it isn’t the familiar characterizations of this:

“So what’s the down low?” – You, Jazz. You’re going to give the down-low to Soundwave. I can’t wait to read how shiny his robo-vagina is.

...wow. Classy there, flamer. Also I really don’t think they read anything. This whole fic is plug n’ play. There’s exchanging of cables, talk of code and positronic souls and sparks and revving engines. There isn’t a drop of sticky, spike, or fluids.

Chapter 15’s sex scenes bore me. Nothing is worse than having a guy ask to remove every bit of clothing. Just do it already! And why is Jazz a virgin? Come on!

Look--the thing about sex and fetish and whatever revs your engine is that it’s not going to rev everyone’s engine. You don’t like the type of interfacing here? Fine. I don’t like those kind of sex scenes in my porn either. But I wasn’t write that scene for porn. I wanted write warbuild Jazz dealing with violent subroutines while interfacing with Prowl. I had fun with it.

Why is Jazz a virgin? The previous 15 chapters discuss that.

I really don’t think the flamer read the fic.They scanned for anything remotely sexual, so I don’t think I’m going to take anything they say about this fic being ooc for perversion’s sake.

“Everyone here is damn pervy” – In which a character talks about the author.

“We gotta get Soundwave to finish writing his story” – Why? I mean, what’s the point? It’s not doing anything for them, unless it’s to show how castrated Soundwave is. I’ve seen him act better in Mary-Sue fics.

There is a whole plot about Starscream and Skyfire, and I thought I could trust the readers to be intelligent enough to make the leap with the parallels between Soundwave and Jazz.

This is literally the only review that questions why Jazz said that.

The Mary Sue shot just echoes the Fifty Shades swipe. I think this flamer did most of their flames roughly ten years ago--the insults are pretty dated.

The Decepticons don’t know about Ratchet? Why? I mean, he’s one of the oldest dudes there. He has a reputation. When you have a reputation, people know about you. It’s inevitable. I think your inner logic slips a lot.

At this point, I literally have 21 previous chapters of world building.

I am not surprised that the story’s logic was slipping away from one of us.

It’s funny to read the forum responses in the story. It’s like the author is trying to make fun of detractors yet ends up making fun of herself.

Okay, this part is hilarious for a reason only briefly noted in the fic. I think that the only things this can refer to are the comments from the chapter titled Flames of the M4gn1f1c3ntSkyPr1nc3--because those are literally the first flames/comments I put in the fic. And I didn’t write them!

My wife wrote them! I don’t write Starscream well but she just poured those out like water--she’s seen more of the hysterical side of fandom, particularly the earlier TF fandom, and I snipped out pieces for the fic.

So...I mean, we’re pretty happily married, so I don’t think she counts as a detractor. ^___^ Ultimately I started writing this fic for her.

“Your optics make me crazy” – Not at all a cliché.

Good thing I didn’t write that, then. Here is that little section in the Prowl/Jazz section. (Took me a bit to find it since I plugged that into the Find and couldn’t bring it up.)

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

I like what you do to me. Jazz allowed him in, tilting his helm. I never really understood it, y'know? How mechs could lower their guard so much. Let someone this close.

And now? Prowl drew back, wanting to see Jazz for the answer. With a quiet ping, he warned the other mech even as he raised his hand, touching Jazz's visor.

I still think you're crazy always going on about my optics, Jazz said, venting even as he disengaged the locks and let Prowl gently remove the blue polycarbon.

Your optics are perfection, Prowl corrected him. And you let me see them. Hundreds of mechs wondering what's under that visor, but I get to see.

Still shy about letting someone else see them, Jazz turned his head, only for Prowl to touch his cheek and turn him back, coaxing his optics to open with a soft brush of his thumb.

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

Not bad for an asexual, I think. I mean, it’s not like I have a ton of hands on experience, being kinda broken that way. But I have read plenty of pulp magazines and pulp radio shows!

This didn’t take long. I skimmed through this work, because there was so little content. Lots of ridiculous shit, though. Soundwave writes fanfiction, the Autobots are weirded out/turned on, capture Soundwave, Soundwave realizes that his whole life was a life and decides to defect. Yeah, about that. He wouldn’t do it lickety split, let alone EVER. Hell, the reactions in the forum bits show what some would think of this, if they weren’t too busy fapping.

The funny thing is I don’t think the mechs can even fap. I don’t write them doing that. But yes, flamer, I do believe that you skimmed through the work. Particularly since you’ve recounted it backwards...Soundwave captures Jazz as the capstone to a long internal conflict within himself, but rather than go through chapters of internal monologue and Decepticon politics, I started the story as close to the inciting action as possible, not quite in media res.

I won’t hash out why Soundwave defects. I mean, I spent 22 chapters at that point explaining it. But it’s my fault the flamer skimmed, I guess?

Needless to say: the romance bored me senseless. It was poorly written, and overall there’s really no skill attached to this. You don’t grip the audience and Jazz’s virgin mode made me roll my eyes. Reads like a first-time waifu manga.

Nah.

I’ve been writing way too long and am more than self-aware enough of my own failings that I’m also pretty self-aware of my own strengths, too. And no. It’s not poorly written. I definitely feel I could improve the first few chapters a bit, but that’s because I wrote those over five years ago and I’ve improved since then, too.

Empty insults. Maybe if the flamer had gone so far as to give a critique beyond a couple of misquoted lines and their own headcanons, I might have listened, but there’s literally nothing of substance here beyond a child tantrumming that I’m stupid and bad and should feel bad.

As for the other pairings, booooooooooooooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrring.

Usually I have a fun time setting these fics on fire, but this one bored me senseless. Yes, it was stupid, but the author’s attempt to authenticate it are just as sloppy as anything else.

“Authenticate”?

Is this person talking about using fandom tropes as my setting?

There are 22 chapters at the time, and now 51 chapters, building up this world and using roughly 20 years of fandom background to inform the fic.

Maybe if they hadn’t skimmed, they might have found something interesting. But considering that they skimmed over anything character related and stopped for the sex scene--I don’t think that says anything about my writing and more about their own proclivities.

They were trying to read one-handed. A plug n play fic. A long meta look at fandom in war in a humor fic. And they came here for the sexy times.

I don’t have to draw the conclusion here, do I? Well, for the flamer, probably. And then they’d glance at it for a second, call it sloppy, and say I showed nothing, and what I showed was boring, and that boring stuff was ooc anyway.

One thing I am thankful for is the fact that it is not long.

51 chapters later and I’m still not done.

Nothing’s worth remembering in this and I don’t need to tell you that these characters either act like simpering imbeciles, or are virginal waifus. All I’m missing is a senpai in the bed, some tissues, and some high quality lotion.

...why do they keep referencing gay human sex? I mean, I get it, they’re saying that it’s similar to yaoi fics, but.

This is anti-yaoi with its last hurrah, isn’t it? The late 90s, early 2000s, rising from its sludgy well to try to shame the easily cowed and intimidated, the young writers easily startled by long lines of text. No wonder the citations used are so...15 years ago. I mean, who was talking about Sues even 5 years ago. That criticism kind of faded a long while ago, even then.

I think the sad thing is, even the badly written Sue sex fics end up being more interesting than this. If Ebony Darkness D’Mentia Raven Way were to come along, I think this story would get better. What with her ‘I shot him a gazillion times’ lines.

...and there’s the cherry on the top. Third cheap shot firing blanks. Sue + Fifty Shades +...shit, I can’t even remember the title for that infamous fic. It’s that old.

...this fanfic flamer is old.

Like, don’t get me wrong. We’ve got fandom moms and grandmoms who cut their teeth on fandom print zines in the earliest conventions. They’re not “old” in the same way.

This person has lost any joy, humor, or playfulness that fanfic comes from. No one should go into fanfic expecting fine art. I mean, sure, it happens sometimes, but this is a playground of pulp, experimentation and just plain childish fun.

All in all, not worth remembering. It’s makes me tired to read it. It’s not even stupid enough to make me laugh. You’ll still get a fail rating for me, especially with the shitty version of Soundwave here.

Yes, fanfic flamer. You are indeed tired.

He should be on Big Brother. He’d be great making soy lattés and purees.

Big Brother in 2015 was in its 17th season. There were roughly around 6 million viewers at the time. The demographics for the tv viewing audience were graying even by the 2000s, and by 2015-18, it was significantly older.

Granted, it’s a very tenuous conclusion to draw, but combined with the old fandom references, the anti-yaoi vibes I’m getting, and the fanboyish desire to curate their own headcanon of a character to the point of insulting writers on the internet...

Flamer grew from being a reader to a bitter, old person angry and the whipper snappers for writing stupid, trashy crap that they criticize with broad, unspecific insults.Flamer is the stereotypical mean adult in any 90s cartoon or heavy metal rock video.

A little depressing. Poor flamer. I do hope they found more creative, engaging, and positive things to do.

Me? I just wanna rock.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk on pulp fiction and bitter cultural creators.

#in a nutshell #sorry for another long post #I just wanted to finally do this #after thinking about it for awhile #felt like a loose end #fandom #fanfiction #transformers fanfic

[unproduciblesmackdown]

every time i think about it...........i do NOT get why winston saying “well, i promise to try. but as for successfully, not being a dick i can’t absolutely guarantee it. like i can my coding.” warrants the “there you go, [being a dick] again.” like, well first of all he’s not that bad even at the interview where he’s putting on his Overconfident Act, but that’s another matter. like, in the tone of his delivery he’s obviously trying to be polite, and like, is it just that he should be absolutely self-flagellating and just say “yeah sure i can and will do absolutely whatever you want” even if he doesn’t know that he actually can, especially with something like “how people perceive / react to him” which he can’t fully control? like, he’s Being Accurate. and his coding IS That good, and taylor’s there because they recognize that he really is that bitch, so like, they ought to be aware that he’s not exaggerating or Bragging when he says stuff that suggests he knows he’s amazing (which goes back to why the interview wasn’t that bad, like....frankly he Did deserve to ask them to negotiate with him. the way job interviews are ~supposed~ to go is heinous). is the issue that taylor cares that much about how he comes across on the surface? i.e. they’d rather he seems Polite than respond genuinely? but it’s further confusing b/c even if you factor in “you should be more apologetic and be ~humble~ / say you can Guarantee A Result even if you know it’s inaccurate”, he’s not like........being rude. does his delivery Seem Like It Could Be Interpreted As Rude?? b/c to me i’m just noticing how he’s obviously Trying to come across as polite lmao.............like, maybe it’s that if taylor was already planning to hire the couple other quants, they want him to seem Humble And Ready To Apologize b/c they’re already thinking of how those other ppl might react to him, i.e. it doesn’t matter if taylor themself thinks he’s being rude or not; they’re “correcting” him b/c they think that other ppl would find it rude

i really don’t get it lsdjfsdlkf like it ONLY strikes me as a particularly good response, maybe when the lines were written they were intended to be delivered with a bit more obvious Attitude lmao...........and i mean, i know that i’m interpreting it (and i’m right!!) as Winston Trying To Be Honest, and maybe taylor, having met him for only the second time just now, either is not interpreting it that way or figures that other people won’t interpret this kind of thing that way and so they should let him know it seemed Dickish.............the ONLY thing i can think is if the “like i can [guarantee] my coding” seems Assholishly Overconfident Or Braggy but like. it’s very straightforward language and a straightforward delivery and it IS factual. maybe he’s not even allowed to have warranted confidence b/c of how much he messed up the interview? idk lmao maybe it’s in the nuance and like, i’m supposed to interpret winston being Friendly as him being a bit too damn cheerful 

like truly the first time i watched that scene and he was delivering those lines i was like wow!!! that’s such good communication!!!!!! he’s amazing i’m proud of him!!! and then taylor gives the immediate “that was Dick Behavior on par with the interview” response and i was like “.............?????????????????” and i’ve never understood it lmfao

maybe it IS “being a dick” = “being That confident abt your Abilities” b/c like, again, he wasn’t even that insanely rude at the interview, he just was like, approaching it as though he had leverage and they ought to work with that. which, yeah, you can see how it would be annoying or whatever since the employer of course is like “i have all the power in this situation and you had better plead for us to deign to harvest your soul” and winston Flippin That Script isn’t going to appeal to the ppl interviewing him, and also all these axe cap bastards (wags i mean. taylor is excluded, as is ben. and mafee) have delicate egos and they are in need of a constant iv drip of Delicate Businessman Power Trip Juice. anyways what i’m saying is winston was, once again, really only being Accurate and recognizing what he’s worth here, but natch they’d’ve wanted him to Know His Place. so maybe him coming into it once again, speaking accurately and with reasonable self-confidence re his superlative coding, is seen as more of the same as that. that’s all i can possibly imagine taylor is reacting to here. but it’s treated as So Obvious in the scene and it just baffles me completely

naturally this whole scene goes a long way for me and that vital “winston is totally autistic” lore b/c like, what’s a better testimonial than my autistic ass being like “perfect response winston!!!!!!” and being unable to think how he could improve it and then being utterly bemused when someone else is like “i am perceiving the intent and attitude behind what you said as Dickishness”.......plus that, again, i’m interpreting winston’s dialogue as him being Genuine And Straightforward, and all evidence in canon seems to confirm this, and he continues to have these moments of communicating in that genuine and straightforward way and having people react like it’s Rude (see: “you’ve also never seen them cut off their own father’s head before”) and that’s just autism times.........and re this scene in particular, the Wince, which is repeated, like...your tics and fidgets (his nervous fidgets...the interview....kompenso...even 4x11 if you will, Twitchy....) are persistent. and apparently his charm is nonexistent. 

anyways even if it *is* just that “being accurate about your Superlative Worth is rude and inappropriate here” is the answer for all this, surely it’s Meant to be obvious??? but i only have my own perspective which cannnnnot see it that way lmao it’s such a mystery. i’m Living the miscommunication from winston’s pov......@ writers, showrunners, actors, allistic ppl: what does it mean?? what does it all mean???????

#winston billions

[felix-tee]

finders keepers | mink + fee

@kidrebelmink‌:

The weather was sort of nice today, meaning there was no rain and the overhanging clouds didn’t seem to offer any rain for the rest of the day either. If you looked well enough, you might see some sunshine once in a while pull through the grey clouds. Meaning a training session outside could be welcomed by all, or at least Mink was looking forward to some chucks of wind brushing through their hair, pulled at the short strands, having the sweat dry up under the edgy cold of a January season. Nothing wrong with a little cold.

The trainer had them walk a couple of laps in order to heat up, and Mink had been feeling extremely feisty that morning, being called back a couple of times whenever they pushed through into a sprint. That wasn’t the goal of the exercise. It didn’t hold Mink back however, they felt a surge of energy pick up and had to act on it. Their whole body felt like it was bursting with energy, wanting to run, fight, jump, whatever the trainer had in store for them.

After ten laps, which Mink finished first, the trainer teamed them up based on quality, and told them to work on their offense and defense poses. That part of training seemed even harder to Mink, because poses meant not really attacking other people, nor going all out. It meant holding back. And they were getting extremely irritated by holding back. Didn’t help that their opponent was someone they really wanted to smash. The other, probably noticing how Mink was jumping around on their spot, taunted them whenever it was their turn to attack. Saying things like “boy” or “girl”, which Mink hated, and telling them that they hit like a “girl”, which in itself was a stupid taunt, but the fact that the person had the audacity to assume their gender was a hateful thing.

Mink eventually, thinking the trainer wasn’t watching, made their move on their opponent, coming out of nowhere after having placed themselves in a defensive position, to attack the other straight on. Bending their stance a little so the put the other off guard, making use of the other’s sudden open pose, and swinging a fist into the other’s belly. Watching with great enjoyment how the person doubled over and fell to the ground.

Not a smart move however, the trainer shouted at them from a distance and told them to take a time out, sit at the bleachers until the end of training. Fuck! Mink threw the trainer a middle finger when they weren’t looking, and fuming, they made their way to the stupid benches.

To their surprise, they weren’t the only person who had to sit there, or at least they figured as much. Some youngster with blonde hair had taken a seat on the bleachers as well, he wore a pretty cool jacket, with flowers in different colors. They recognized it as a jacket that they also owned that exact jacket.

Still fuming, Mink sat down a little away from the other, looking up, studying him momentarily. “That’s a freaking awesome jacket.” They said, forcing themself not to look down, because from the corner of their eye they could see their opponent looking up with a grin. There was a little suspicion in their voice, as they studied the other. “I have the same one, but I lost it a couple days ago.”

@felix-tee

From behind a set of oversized, Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses, Felix sat chewing rather flavourless bubble gum on the bleachers like some kind of high school dramedy cliché. With his legs neatly and tightly crossed, his propped up ankle shook in an absent but consistent rhythm: he was bored. Restless. But he was also smug. 

He didn’t particularly want to be there—even back in grade school he’d had very little interest in watching or participating in the hype of team sports. In fact, the only thing that ever did put him in the stands a time or two had been when he’d either been there on the arm of a pretty and popular boy, who’d later try (try being the operative word) to get Felix out of his daks in the locker rooms, or because he’d simply wanted to soak in the view of jocks getting muddy and taking off their shirts at half time—that’s what they called it right? Half time? To be honest, if that was right, it was a lucky fucking guess. No matter the reason Felix had ever had to put him at one of those games, none of them had ever been for the sake of learning anything about the sport, or paying any kind of real attention.

But now he was smug, because he got to sit on the sidelines looking cute as fuck, if he did say so himself, and simply observe while everyone else was killing themselves over relays or circuits or... whatever the poor sods were doing. He sort of felt sorry for them. But not sorry enough to stop him from feeling a little triumphant that he was up here, smelling of tangy summer eau de parfume and they were down there smelling like... that. Of course, he couldn’t smell much at all from this vantage point other than salt water and seaweed carried up on the wind from the rocks below, but his nose crinkled just at the thought. He did, after all, have a very active and capable imagination. 

But Cambie has specifically told him that until further notice, he wouldn’t have to participate, and as soon as she got approval through the ‘correct avenues’—whatever that meant—they’d be able start their one on one dance training. Honestly, Felix doesn’t like to show too much enthusiasm for anything that someone of authority is offering to him, because it sort of puts him at risk of getting lazy and simply going along with rules or expectations, instead of making a fuss to get exactly what wants and how he wants it—and even if it’s a delicate, passive-aggressive fuss, he’d always rather make at least something of one, because getting too complacent was dangerous. It could mean that his standards were lowering, and that was a very slippery slope to find oneself on. One minute you’re at the top of the social food chain, and the next you’re making friends with the rejects and the lunch lady, wearing—shiver—knock off brand hand-me-downs and letting yourself physically and hygienically go. 

God, if he had any motivation at all to make even a single close friend (or fan) here, the leading one might strictly be so that he had someone to stab him in the throat if he ever let himself become one of those un-self-respecting bogans. Ugh, just... ew. 

So he made an effort to keep himself and his eagerness for Cambie’s plan both respectable and in check. He showed her enough sweet, angelic appreciation to encourage her to follow through with the whole thing, but monitored just how grateful he was, because he didn’t want to wind up in a position where she was the one holding all the power. She was only meant to think she was. 

Unfortunately, the truth of it was that he was already quite fond of Cambie. And he was genuindely very excited about the idea of dancing again. Like really dancing. With structure and a goal, and a purpose—and hell, a partner to do it with him. As self absorbed as he was, he had to admit it was more fun to share those kinds of things with other people—even if it was just so someone else was there to praise him and tell him what beautiful, impressive work he was doing. He knew that, of course, but that didn’t mean he didn’t like to also hear it confirmed.

But he was still waiting to hear from Cambie regarding setting up the dance sessions, and he didn’t really have too many friends to reach out to yet to keep his time filled, so for now he used the glaringly open block to sit perched in the stands watching everyone else suffer. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying it. But he found lying pretty easy, so—he’d be happy to tell you what you whatever you wanted to hear about his current mood, one way or another. 

The cherry on the cake, however, was that he’d found this fabulous floral jacket. It was a bright print of cherry reds, sunshine yellows and lime greens—there was even a hit of vibrant fuchsias in the daring and delightful petal-like design. Frankly, it looked designer, but he couldn’t really tell one way or another because some total drongo had gone and ripped out the label. Ugh, whoever the past owner was, they were clearly a tragedy.

But it’d just been lying over the back of one of the sofas in Delma, and it fit him perfectly. It was just a touch too big, as most things were on Felix, naturally, but that was also the ideal fit for the style. He didn’t know who it had belonged to, but it didn’t have a name in it anywhere, and if the owner had just gone and left something that fetch just lying around, they clearly didn’t appreciate its value, much less deserve it for themselves. Finders were totally keepers, anyway, everybody knew that. 

Besides, there wasn’t a chance in hell it looked as good on anyone here as it did on Felix. No offence to the Colony 22 population—there were at least a handful of pretty people worth taking long looks at around here—but he was Felix Turner. It wasn’t like anyone would expect them to compete with the likes of him.

The person who loped over to him then had been the little one causing trouble on the fields a few minutes ago. To be honest, Felix hadn’t been paying much attention to the kerfuffle because he’d been too busy staring at some fit, dark skinned boy running laps in the other direction (who’s brows, by the way, were totally slaying, like wow). But he looked to his new approaching company now, and he was glad he was wearing sunglasses because he could feel his expression running skeptical at first. This person looked.... dirty. And just a little too friendly, considering what he’d just half-witnessed on the field. It made Felix think this person was a little like a feral cat—unpredictable and possibly diseased. 

Maybe it was too early to judge—but that had never stopped Felix before. 

He blew a thin bubble with his gum. He’d probably been chewing it too long, because it was getting weak and a bit grainy, and the bubbles were barely holding any elasticity. It’d been pretty bad to start with, anyhow. 

With the compliment and the appreciation of his jacket, he was fully prepared to preen, and semi-preparing to like this stranger just a fraction more—but then the words, ‘but I lost it a couple days ago.’ 

Something latched onto Felix’ Adam’s apple uncomfortably, and the little blond faerie of a creature was yet again grateful he was wearing sunnies. He swallowed, kept his tone even, and tried to inject it with just enough positivity to pull off flattered, if a little bored. 

“Oh, thanks. It’s nice isn’t it? Well, clearly you have good taste.” 

#sorry this is so long #it's actually sort of bc im struggling with fee's muse a little so i had to wander around in narrative to try to reconnect with him? #lol it kinda worked but now its hella long #no need to match at all though! #mink #para #paramink #finders keepers #reposting bc i wanted to tweak the title for ocd reasons lol

[cycloplasm]

Quibris (left) and Cedra (right) hd ref pictures; the two of them + context shown in there. Longest thing i ever wrote under the cut.

The two of them can change size at will; but depending of how consequent the change is, they need time before being able to change size again. They used to be bigger than Futh itself, but changed to 4 meters so they can roam on their own planet. (according to conversion, 4 meters is 13″12 in feet; feel free to correct me if that’s wrong :O!)

Quibris (they/them) is a God of Life; they created all lifeforms on Futh; all plants, animals, and people there were initially created by them; from the primordial soup where they progressively learned how to make lifeforms that can survive, to Futh’s current state. If they look like they’re looking in the distance, it’s because their eye allows them to see in real time important events happening on Futh; so that they can watch over their creations. They only see events that will affect the majority of the planet, like the creation of a new society, a technological breakthrough, and such things that can be considered as historical. People on Futh used to be aware of them and worshiped Quibris; but over the centuries, people forgot about them… That made them doubt themself, somewhat depressed and bitter towards the people of Futh. Quibris takes their job relatively seriously, and doesn’t focus on anything else other than Futh and its people. They like seeing their creations evolve; and does so even when they’re bitter over not being worshipped. They love Cedra, even if their way of doing and seeing things are different.

Cedra (was born genderless, but identifies as a male; so he/him) is the God of death of Futh, and was the one to keep balance; by reducing the numbers of invasive species to allow the weaker ones to survive, or even decimate an entire race if Quibris felt like they weren’t meant to stay on their planet (thankfully, the latter one happened rarely and only on the beginning of life on Futh, around the time lifeforms started developing after the primordial soup/when Quibris was learning how to make lifeforms). Cedra doesn’t actually LIKE destroying lifeforms; he does it only out of duty and as favors for Quibris. But it’s not like he particularly cares about them either; for him, life on Futh are like ants in a ant farm. One thing he DOES enjoy is destroying the landscape; such as breaking mountains, creating earthquakes and tornadoes, making an entire forest rot and watching it die, and such other destructive things. His four ears allows him to hear in instant time important things that is being said on Futh; like Quibris’ sight, it’s only things that could be considered historical, such as the start or end of a big war, a new kind of society being born, and other such events. If he hears something important that isn’t in a language he knows, the second pair of Cedra’s ears allow him to understand what’s being said, by at least understanding what’s being communicated (example: someone decides to yell that they’re starting a war and says it in a language that isn’t too spread on the planet; Cedra will hear it; he won’t understand exactly what’s being said, but his second pair of ears will get the fact that it’s something bad, and that the words used are full of animosity.) As for his personality, Cedra is VERY obnoxious and, while he does his duty, focuses on having fun more than anything else. His concept of ‘fun’ can be related to his death powers, but also making fun of mortals CONSTANTLY. He finds them to be ‘hilarious’, and can’t help but enjoy watching . His favorite thing is when people starts cults, especially if it’s in honor; he WILL mess with them. But the only thing he never makes fun of is Quibris; he loves them very much and even admires them (but he rarely admits the latter).

One day, Quibris told Cedra that they were upset about not being worshipped, and that they wish they could something. Cedra at first suggested that they create new lifeforms that could be loyal to their belief in them; they did so, but that wasn’t enough for them. Quibris was mad that they spent milleniums creating life on Futh, only to have those people forget them. So Cedra asked ‘what would like to do, then?’ Quibris wasn’t sure how to respond with anything other that ‘ I wish to teach them a lesson. But I wish to do so myself, so they dare not to forget me again.’ Cedra, who puts Quibris’ well being before anything, and has always been admirative of what they could create, replied; ‘Then do so! Destroy them! Become their god of death! After all, i got myself more cults than i can count without asking for anything; people don’t forget what they FEAR. So make them FEAR you. In the meantime, I can try to create things for a change! Wouldn’t that be fun?’ And Quibris agreed to that. They traded jobs by, at first, teaching each other. Quibris showed Cedra how they create things, and Cedra showing how to destroy to Quibris in return. Thing is, both only watched; they didn’t really learn the intricacies of each act. For example, Cedra used his power of death/destruction to get some ‘materials’ (various minerals, or even in some cases dead matter (so basically rotten stuff) and made lifeforms out of it; but he has little to no concept of ‘internal organs’, of anatomy/functional bodyparts, and isn’t very good at crafting. So Cedra’s lifeforms tend to look like a scary toddler’s clay sculpture, with lots of eyes/mouths/limbs (or even none of those at all). And since Quibris can’t technically destroy anything directly, they instead created grey lifeforms that are similar in consistency to clay and has no mind of it’s own; they just kind of shaped it (like shaping clay) into weapon-looking shapes, and fused it to the aggressive creations they made with Cedra. The result is a creature who does massive damage wherever they are; but Quibris and those lifeforms doesn’t have the notion of what NEEDS to be destroyed, and what doesn’t. So they tend to do a LOT of damage on the people and even Futh itself.

This period of time left a consequential stain on Futh’s history; Cedra’s creations were roaming around, destroying things seemingly out of instinct, and even making hybrids with some of Futh people. While Quibris’ newest creations would leave little to no survivors, and do as much destruction as Cedra’s lifeforms, if not more. The two gods saw pretty quickly that their trade didn’t go as planned; no one worshiped or even acknowledged Quibris; all they saw were the strange, new lifeforms destroying everything in their path. While Cedra’s creations weren’t as good as he wanted them to be, and no matter how much of them he made and how much he desperately wanted to be as good as Quibris, Cedra felt awful having his failed attempts at creating life destroying Quibris’ own, ‘perfect’ (in Cedra’s point of view) creations. So Cedra decided to take his creations away from the people of Futh, and guided them to the center of the planet, where only he can go in and out of. Unfortunately, Cedra felt that he needed to seal them away AND stay with them while doing so; he felt like they were his responsibility and that he couldn’t stay with Quibris after being such a failure as a god of life. That’s when he went from being bigger than Futh itself to a 4 meters form, and left Quibris alone. The latter was already very upset over the chaos that happened with their poor attempt at revenge/getting worshiped again, but the fact that Cedra left just destroyed them; not literally, but on an emotional level. The two were always there for each other, so Quibris felt more lonely than ever. They retrieved their lifeforms of destruction, and sealed them in a place only Quibris themself can access. Feeling like there wasn’t even a point to carry on being either a god of life or death; so they changed their size to 4 meters like Cedra, and makes sure their latest creations don’t escape.

Quibris’ and Cedra’s trade lasted for a few years; but for the people of Futh, it felt pretty much like the apocalypse. And afterwards, since neither god were protecting Futh from dangers, one of the three moons, Sekut, got pulverized by an asteroid; so that was kind of like the cherry on top of the apocalypse cake. At least Cedra’s creations and Quibris’ new ones being away, the people could spend time rebuilding their world and families little by little. By what counts as ‘nowadays’ to Futh, only old people remember how the world was like when the two gods watched over it, and how the year of the trade went. Those people tend to keep telling the new generations about ‘how different and good life was when the gods were there’, so that the memory of the Futh with gods goes on.

#o #futh #quibris #cedra #this was SO hard to explain but i think i did it #even if this is like? a rough draft of their story; i feel like it gives the closest thing to full context i can do for now #rose'socs

[wavemaker9]

warning for talk about self-harm/attempted suicide; nothing detailed but yknow, started thinking more about how mel’s (believed) death would affect both kyle and others in los santos

it’d be unlikely that at least some others wouldn’t hear rumors that mel had died and when she’s not showing her face around town, it’s hard not to believe.There might be some people in the city who live under a strict “if i don’t directly see the body, i have no proof” mindset, but the bottom line is that people die alone in gutters all the time in the city. people disappear off the map constantly. and some move away or retire to better lives, but some people just end up dead. I think Toni’s the closest of my kids to that just because A, there’s always the risk that someone could have faked their death so it pays to lowkey be even a little prepared, and B, he saw gil do it first hand so yknow. But also Toni’s a realist and recognizes that sometimes people do just get killed, or they die from some dumb stunt, or they overdose or otherwise get themself killed. it’s not impossible, and spending all your days insisting on having that proof directly is a waste of time. And I do think other people besides Kyle and Ivan would hear about mel’s death sooner or later. Austin could hear from Kyle directly, and toni could hear it either from ivan directly or maybe down the chain from Kyle (kyle > austin > oliver > toni).

Austin probably hears from kyle just because. Well, kyle’s mood fucking drops following both mel’s death + his specifically being blamed for it. That was one of his best friends and it hits him hard. I think at first he’s just trying cope using his vices, but either by overdosing with that, having a particularly reckless stunt go bad, or just having things get rougher until he falls to more direct methods of harm, austin finds him directly following that. After fixing him up as best he can/getting him to someone who can do it better, depending on how he got hurt, austin confronting kyle about it and kyle trying to avoid the questions. Austin’s able to get out that mel died, but can’t get much more from Kyle before it leads into a shouting match. Austin unintentionally admits his frustration over all the shit kyle does like this, being ungrateful for the help austin gives him, putting himself in dumb and dangerous situations all the time, and refusing to just talk about things when they’re clearly /greatly/ bothering him, before storming off to give them both time to cool down before he tries again. Of course, it’s kyle, and austin should really know better and prolly would if he hadn’t gotten mad, because when he tries to come back to talk to him again, kyle’s outta there.

Austin ends up finding kyle again after another, seemingly more serious attempt, and having to take him to the hospital. And the pro of that is that it makes it much harder for kyle to bail, especially with austin not taking any second chances this time around. With enough pressing and kyle knowing he’s caught, him finally admitting the issue, that it’s not just that mel’s dead but he feels responsible and for a bullshit reason of them just fucking around like they normally do and it going bad. The two able to talk about it more without so much yelling this time, and austin admitting he appreciated amelia’s skill and work effort but, compared to kyle, amelia’s not worth it. Kyle arguing that, of course she is, but austin standing firm, he refuses to lose kyle over this. Kyle can drink and whatever else he does normally to cope, but he needs to move past this without sacrificing his whole life for it. Yes, his reckless behavior got someone killed, and maybe he’ll take this and learn how to not put the people he cares about in such risk- austin himself would /love/ for kyle to learn that. But Kyle needs to learn his lesson and move on, not wallow in this. Adds the classic case that austin wouldn’t expect amelia to really want kyle to die for this, no matter what happened, and kyle’d also be leaving ivan behind as well and imagine how well that would be taken. 

It’s a combined effort of points that’s enough of a pull back to get kyle off the edge for a bit, getting him to ease back closer to the range of ‘struggling but managing’. Still fucking, rough for him, mourning is never easy for anyone and particularly not for Kyle, but like. Still, it’s something. However, around that time is when Toni hears the news and isn’t happy. Amelia had a lot of promise and he was interested to see where she took that. I think he’s less angry specifically that Amelia /died/ and more that she died /like she did/. Like he would have been fine with her going down a more impressive death, hell he’d have been chill killing her himself in a fight. But like. However he hears it from, he probably also hears even vaguely that it was something that went wrong connected to Kyle and Ivan, and just. The promise she had, she didn’t deserve that. She didn’t deserve to die because /those fucking two hazards/ dropped a ball. Like A, this reignites the anger for Ivan that had been starting to cool over the years since Gil was first injured. Because fucking Ivan can’t learn how to mind himself and what damage he causes for 2 fucking seconds? 

And /Kyle/. Like Ivan’s a goddamn danger in the worst of ways, clearly, but at least he does something for the city, too. At least he’s made a name for himself and counters the bad shit he does with impressive shit and at least he puts in a fucking effort. It pisses Toni off that he can’t learn to play by the rules a little more, but that’s nothing compared to Toni’s opinion on the fucking useless menace that is Kyle Brown. The most Kyle’s been doing since Toni learned about him is minor jobs, fucking around and pissing away his time and energy on shit that don’t really mean nothing in the long run. Kyle does what he wants and shows no tact or respect and pull stunts & causes chaos without thinking through his actions and how they affect others. And Toni /told/ Amelia when he found out about her tie to Kyle that knowing him was a mistake, that she’d be wasting her time or needlessly putting herself in danger by staying too connected to him, and it seems like that turned out to be more than true. Toni plans to have a fucking talking with Ivan as well, but he sets something up with Kyle first to basically call him out on his shitty behavior and what a waste of space Toni thinks he is. That Mel /was/ worth more than Kyle,/easily so/, that she had the drive and motivation that Kyle lacks, so why is /he/ still alive when Amelia is /dead/? He calls out a lot of small but foolish mistakes Kyle’s made since moving to the city, things Toni’s taken note of as jobs/tasks/etc that Kyle only apparently managed to survive because of luck or help instead of relying on his own strength like Amelia did, like all people who are worth something in this city do. His final note is that, the way Toni sees it, Kyle does nothing but make mistakes, to the point of getting respectable people killed over them, while the only mistake Mel made was being associated with a useless fuck up like him.

And Kyle usually doesn’t care about Toni’s opinion in the slightest, but it is a laser-guided hit to an already shaky house of cards that is his recovery path, and he spirals back down /hard/ following it because yeah. A part of him wants to believe Austin over Toni, obviously, but also like. What was he thinking believing Austin saying that he was worthwhile or that he doesn’t deserve to die. What a fucking idiot he is. His whole mood crashes hard all over again. Luckily, following the previous shit, even with kyle’s slow improvement, Austin would be keeping a close eye on him. Insisting on one of them staying at the other’s place, trying to remove/hide any dangerous items like knives, insisting on driving Kyle places. He probably does a milder form of this during lesser depressive episodes of Kyle’s*, but clearly this is bad and following the previous attempt, takes no chances. So him catching onto Kyle’s change in mood before he has the chance to do anything drastic, pressing on what brought it about and doing his best to counter it. And he himself is /very/ mad when he hears it’s Toni who caused it because ughhhh this fucking guy. The worst guy. Austin’s had maybe one good interaction with Toni, /barely/ if ever, his whole life. Hate that guy.

Austin considers just focusing on Kyle, but like. Austin’s already sick of the shit Toni pulls on himself, but undoing what progress he managed with Kyle is bullshit. Like was shown with Austin suddenly standing up to Ivan over his parents, he has very few people he actually cares about but he cares about them a /lot/, so him requesting Oliver set up a meeting between Toni and himself, he has some things he needs to discuss with Toni. It’s a reluctant action, he really doesn’t wanna deal with Toni ever, but god Toni needs to know that fucking with Kyle isn’t okay and hopefully get him to help correct what he said to Kyle or at least back off, and if Austin has to be the only one to make that happen, then /fine/. He didn’t make it as far as he did by backing down immediately when things got too tough, after all, and toni’s main complaint about him anyway is not having enough backbone, so maybe this’ll get toni to chill on that, too. /Does/ request it in the Jawbreaker’s office though to dissuade Toni from trying anything bad if the convo does get heated. Austin’s not stupid, cmon.

And Toni shows, already very amused on what Austin thinks he has to say to him. Austin basically arguing he had already addressed kyle about what happened in a way to hopefully teach him to be more careful, without making him full on spiral, and toni’s messed that up now by once again thinking he knows best all the time when he doesn’t. Toni dismissive of any criticism though, it’s not his fault if kyle can’t handle the consequences of his actions. He shouldn’t make the mistakes if he’s not prepared to struggle with the guilt over them. This can be good for Kyle if he learns to take that pain and make something of it, and if he doesn’t, well then nothing of value /really/ lost. Austin clearly angry at that, but holding himself back. Insisting he’s upset about mel to a point too, but getting kyle to kill himself over an accident when austin had already been working on getting kyle to be more careful won’t do any good for anybody. If anything, it might do worse for the city, given all of kyle’s little connections to different crews. he’d expect someone like toni to recognize that. Toni pressing back, he doesn’t want to dismiss Kyle’s talents, but kyle ain’t /really/ important in this city. He’s talented and lucky, but anyone who works with him could replace him in a day if they needed to, and probably be better off for it. kyle is reckless, dangerously so, clearly. He doesn’t think through his actions, doesn’t care about making enemies, doesn’t care about protecting himself or those around him. Him getting someone killed by his refusal to take charge in his life was only a matter of time, it’s just a shame it had to be this person. The way toni sees it, kyle’s death might help the city, actually. It certainly couldn’t /hurt/ los santos any.

Austin’s eyes thinning at him at this, at toni so blatantly stating his opinion on kyle’s /life/, before he questions if a death to help the city stabilize wasn’t supposedly the same reasoning the Grazhdane had when they put Beilschmidt in a-? Toni’s eyes snapping onto Austin with a fucking fury the moment toni recognizes where he’s going with this, standing immediately and storming across the room to grab austin by the throat before he can continue, pinning him up against a nearby wall, telling him to finish that sentence, /please/. Give him a reason to let oliver find a better Second for his crew, he is /begging/ austin to. Austin able to make a move on toni to get him to have to pull back for a moment, but toni’s able to just full on out-strength him on austin’s next attempt to pull free more. Chuckling, though in a way that is more bitter amusement than anything else, Toni asks where austin learned that. Austin, still trying to get free, answers kyle taught him it, proof that kyle’s worth more than toni thinks after all. Toni laughing further, countering that teaching austin a move or two to keep him alive a second longer is not putting anything good into the city because austin barely puts anything worthwhile into the city either. Austin questioning back what good /toni/ puts into the city, then? what do any of them put there? They’re criminals, that’s the point. But of all of them, he figures Kyle is one of the ones who puts more /actual good/ in the world, certainly more than /toni/ does. 

Toni pinning austin further, showing a sliver of that anger before catching himself and letting austin go, crossing back across the room, telling him to relax, they both know he wouldn’t do shit here; he assumes that’s why austin requested the meeting here, too cowardly to talk shit outside of his own home. Austin still rubbing at his arm, trying to steady himself, but acknowledging that was his idea, yes. Toni doing the little roll of ones eyes when they’re disappointed but not surprised. Him brushing himself off slightly, 95% for show to signify him feeling they’re done here, before stating flatly and firmly to austin that he doesn’t regret the things he said and he’s /not/ going to take them back, to kyle’s face or not, because they’re /true/. Austin may only be comfortable criticizing his cousin when his life isn’t on the line, but the fact of the matter is that both of them are embarrassments to the city, and he won’t feel bad about calling out that fact, because someone needs to. Austin clearly still frustrated, but knowing he’s not going to get anywhere further. Toni’s stubborn when he wants to be, he’s heard that from oliver and seen it in the handful of times they’ve interacted. Especially after Austin let his temper slip and insulted Gilbert in such a way, he’s not going to make any progress with Toni tonight. So him waving Toni off, the meeting’s over, just stay away from Kyle in the future. Toni laughing, waving off austin didn’t have to bother trying to order him to do that. Clearly kyle’s dangerous to be around, Toni’ll be staying as far clear as he can from that boy. As he starts to leave, him reaching out to grab Austin’s shoulder, though, telling him he might want to consider the same. Kyle’s a drowning dog no matter what mood he’s in, and he’ll drag down anyone who reaches out to help him; it’s all that people like him know how to do. He gives a slight pat to Austin’s shoulder which Austin very roughly pulls free from, with Toni leaving after that.

I will say a pro to Kyle’s teetering emotional state is that probably when Ivan realizes how bad Kyle’s doing, that’s something to focus on besides his own anger over Mel’s loss. Though god, Toni trying to call a meeting with Ivan over this shit, especially if ivan figured out about toni’s meeting with kyle. imagine /that/. About 5 times more fighting and no hate sex at the end, it’d probably be bad. Probably Kyle’s being guided back to managing and is even starting to get back to in sights of normal when Mel finds him, and that is a whole new emotional whiplash because he is at once wholly and deeply relieved when he sees her and believes that she’s alive, and also fucking /furious/. I love him trying to take a swing at her because his immediate reaction to anger is to fight the source of said anger because that’ll fix it, obviously, but his resolve is crumbling by the second and he has zero heart into trying on that actual strike, so even if she’s still recovering some, her easily stepping out of the way and him barely managing to stay standing, before immediately turning around and moving at her again, though this time both arms up and just dragging her into a clinging, sobbing hug.

The most infuriating thing about kyle is his just. For being so sympathetic and even to a point generally empathetic, he’s so unaware of trying to be empathetic in a way that’s not natural to him that most shit he doesn’t immediately consider/agree with flies right over his head. Like he would need it pointed out very plainly that maybe he shouldn’t be super angry at mel’s mom because like. Compared to how upset he was, imagine how upset she would have been if mel actually died and remember how upset she was just as the risk of her dying. Doesn’t that make sense she’d try to protect her daughter, even if it was done like this. Hell, I feel like Kyle’s even angry after the initial moment at mel because she should have known they didn’t know she was alive or they would have been there. Kyle’d have been at her side if he knew he could be and she should have known that so why did it take so long for her to realize and come find him. >( Once Kyle grasped things, though, that’d probably be better then because he could help talk Ivan down from being mad at bea when he finds out mel’s alive. Mel desperately trying to get these boys to understand the concept of her mom being worried about her and the constant dangerous shenanigans they pull.

Also fucking /god/, Mel finding out from kyle or austin that toni called kyle out over her death in the way he did and her going to speak to him to be like hey? Fuck you??? Kyle’s a menace but he’s my menace, compared to you who’s neither my boss nor my friend, so what gives you the fucking right to judge him like you did at all, fuck you. Which honestly is less of an insult to toni but more disappoints him because for her to go back and defend Kyle even after that scare shows a perceived weakness in her judgement he feels he must have missed before. Just ‘oh good to see you didn’t die after all, but also I expected better from you??’ Toni can you /chill/????

#ignore this #the thief kid #the suit kid #the boss kid #amusing muse musings #crossovers! unlimited crossovers! #crossovers gta edition #i could read through this one last time to edit before posting but i'm not gonna do that

[miracleofdespair]

Death Inevitable || Crypt || Trial 1 | RE: A Lot ATTN: Johnny, Yoshiki, Seiko, Rada

Crypt watched the end of the trial silently. They didn't relax their tense defensive posture -- or their grip on Momoka's shoulders -- until they were certain that the immediate threat had passed. Even as they loosened their grip, though, they kept their hands on her. They were no longer concerned about the stinging bite on their hand, but rather on watching everyone. Caution was king.

...

Something sick and cold stirred in their chest and settled in their stomach as Ava begged and pleaded with everyone. She was guilty, wasn't she? No amount of crying would change that. It wouldn't change how quickly many of her stalwart defenders instantly turned on her, either.

Hiroko's pleas of defense. Cyrille's actions of... Ah, it seemed to be comfort. Daniele's adamant denials... None of that mattered under Reiko and Yoshiki's harsh condemnations and whatever Erika had been trying to prove. They kept themself between Ava and Momoka. Perhaps once they could speak with Ava, if this was... Mm.

Ava didn't want this shared, didn't want others to know, and yet this was all just... Aired. Crypt's eyes rested firmly on Erika and they made a mental note to not let her close.

Votes were pouring in, and then Johnny came out with that. Cody's silence all trial had been suspicious, but nothing pointed to him except Johnny's finger. And yet Crypt barely batted an eye. They were fairly sure they knew what this was, and if they were right... Their eyes fell closed and they barely dipped their head forward in acceptance (after all, if they were right, then that was a confirmation of her guilt. Yet they couldn't...) when Yoshiki opened his goddamned mouth again.

Again about the rubbing alcohol, despite the many times it had been said that that was unrelated. They didn't speak to answer him.

Crypt looked over to Ava again now, finally dropping their hands from Momoka. There was black staining her skin, smudged off of their sloppy bandaging, but at least it isn't acid blood from Zertro. Their hand hovers over the voting options and they heavily deliberate before... Putting in a vote for themself. They didn't say a word to explain themself, either. They simply watched the others. Ava. Those next to her. Those condemning her.

And then... It's over. The results are in. Ava was voted for by a landslide.

It's correct.

Essentially, at least. The memory Istari sends is not what Crypt expected of the scene of the murder, not at all: it reeked of peace, forgiveness, acceptance. Not the cold- blooded slaughter that so many of the people around the room had expected.

To be upset or shaken by this was not in Crypt's nature; they had never been particularly close to either of the two involved directly. They weren't even bothered by Rada lying about her name -- well, was it lying, or using an alias? Neither mattered to them, really. After all, it wasn't as if their birth name was Crypt. They may be a lot of things, but they made a concentrated effort for a hypocrite to not be one of them. Even now their expression is solemn and hard to read.

As Rada begins really, truly begging for her life (and for the life of someone else?), Crypt finally averts their eyes. The class has spoken. She would die for what she had done; a murderer put to death by the wishes of those who had claimed to be her friends. It was a shame.

Johnny was as coarse as ever. He was right -- most everyone had turned on her instantly. Yet...

"Kane-san... She doesn't need to hear that," they say quietly, barely loud enough for Johnny to hear, probably. Their eyes stay focused on a spot on the floor.

Crypt exhaled a breath they hadn't realized they were holding after Reiko spoke. "...Okamura-san. Please." They raise their voice slightly to project, and there's an edge of firmness. "Shinohara-san as well. Orlov-san is going to die. Your words are... pointless. It will not being Doppler-san back, if that is your intention. You achieve nothing by behaving... Like this."

They close their eyes for a moment, debating their next words. "If... it makes you feel... bigger. Better. To climb on such a... moral high horse... I implore you to wait until she is dead." Crypt opens their eyes and looks at Rada sympathetically. They are quiet, now, just looking at her... And then they dip their head, bowing slightly to her.

"Farewell, Orlov-san."

#miracle of despair #crypt #submission

[chrismerle]

Fandom: Fallen London Characters: My avatar/OC, my best friend’s avatar/OC, two OCs that happen to be purchasable companions, the Affectionate Devil Pairings: OC/Affectionate Devil Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Depression-like thought processes, very brief suicidal ideation Word Count: 3,959 Notes: NIXXIE YOU SAID YOU WANTED TO SEE IT AND I FINISHED IT AND HERE IT IS ...Also do you ever include an NPC as, like, a plot device, and by the time you’re done you ship your OC with that NPC may more than you ever meant to? Yeeeaaaaaah...

Also, if you’re a fan of this or my other stuff, maybe consider buying me a coffee? Obligatory Disclaimer: While I would happily give my eyeteeth to write for Failbetter, I don’t own Fallen London. I own Shaicarus and their eccentricities. @nicxan owns Daniel.

When Daniel gets the note, he knows already that something has gone wrong. He recognizes Shai's scrawl, but it says simple 'See me. Townhouse.' Daniel knows they have the townhouse almost exclusively for entertaining particularly snobbish guests. Adelaide waits as he reads the note over two more times, and it's only once she starts tapping her foot that Daniel cottons onto, "Wait, right now?"

Adelaide shrugs expansively and flips her braids over her shoulder. "It's a big thing," she replies, sounding like she's caught between a complicated mixture of concerned and blasé.

Daniel leaves the note on his coffee table and follows the pirate out of the house.

Even knowing in advance, it's weird to see Shai standing on the townhouse's front step, instead of waiting on the steamer. He's heard them wax poetic about the rocking of that grimy old boat a dozen times.

And there are...other things that are different, as well. Off, in a sense. Like looking in a mirror and knowing someone else who just happens to look identical is looking back.

Shai is holding a rolled up scroll of paper tied with a gleaming gold ribbon, tapping one end of it on their hip. Their smile is thin and perfunctory and they hold out the scroll without so much as a flourish as they admit, "I've run into a spot of trouble."

Daniel knows what it is even before he unrolls it to read it. "Shai, you didn't," he groans, rolling the contract back up just for something to do with his hands.

"It wasn't my idea," Shai protests, though their indignation seems...flat, as if the feeling has been smothered under a pillow until it fell unconscious. They hold out a hand, and Daniel hands the contract back with a jerk, and Shai's claws curl around it.

"Okay, so--what do you need me for?" Daniel asks, dragging his hands through his hair, frazzled. "I mean, my connections in the embassy aren't exactly--"

"Nothing like that," Shai replies, not even giving Daniel a chance to finish. "I just need someone to make sure I stay on track."

Daniel blinks. Cocks his head slowly to one side. "...Okay?"

"I'm going to get it back," Shai states, matter-of-fact. "And while I'm not particularly inclined to care for much at the moment, I know there are things I would be most disappointed to have let slip by the wayside once I'm back within my skin. So I need people willing to keep me on those paths, even if it's simply rote repetition for the time being."

The pieces are starting to fit together. "Okay," Daniel agrees slowly. "Yeah, I can do that."

"Good. I'll be here for the time being," they reply, gesturing towards the townhouse. "It seems more practical, at least for the moment. Would you like to come in?"

"No thanks," Daniel answers before the question has even fully processed. It makes sense, though. This Shai is strange and unsettling, and while Daniel will do what he can to bring the proper Shai back, he feels little inclination to linger beyond that.

Shai inclines their chin in a brief nod, before they turn and step back inside, Adelaide following on their heels. Daniel lingers on the step for a moment before he begins to make his way back to the Flit.

**

They will get their soul back. Shai knows this. Either they will, or Dresden will, or Adelaide will, or perhaps even someone else. They aren't sure who it will truly be, but they know that it will happen. They've always made a hobby of surrounding themself with people equally as tenacious and with the same penchant for loyalty. They will get their soul back at some nebulous point in the future, and in the meantime Daniel and everyone else will keep them moving on the right track.

It's practical, really. It would be a shame to get their soul back, only for their first experience to be disappointment because they let everything fall apart while they were...indisposed. They can't muster up much care for their class or their job or the people who call them Professor and actually mean it. Even thinking of how far they are, still, from the one who killed their Alex does little but set off a single, solitary spark of irritation. They have books and pages and bottles and boons handed to them straight from the Masters, and they may as well be trinkets just then, and thinking of the characters of the Correspondence doesn't ignite any fires (figurative or literal).

It's...tiring. Everything is tiring, suddenly, and they would rather go to sleep. But Victus is staring at them mournfully from the stairs, and they know that if they neglected the kitten they would never forgive themself later on down the line.

They stand in their entryway for a time, staring down at their contract in their hand, glim-tipped claws bright against the aged parchment.

Finally, they set the contract down on the nearest end table and they follow Victus up the stairs. She bounds and jumps and tumbles around their feet as she usually does, and they scarcely even notice.

**

Daniel steps into the townhouse without knocking or announcing himself. It was never a habit he had picked up in the past, and he's felt no particular need to start now, when he pops by twice a day.

He pauses in the entryway, head cocked to one side. He can hear Shai speaking to someone in the parlor. That, on its own, is nothing unusual, but Daniel doesn't recognize the voice of whoever Shai is speaking with. It's certainly not Adelaide's or Dresden's.

"You just used to be so much livelier before," the stranger sighs, and he sounds as if he's pouting.

"I'm not sure what you want me to tell you," Shai replies, only mildly concerned by their guest's distress. "You wanted this outcome, too, if I recall."

"Shaicarus," the stranger scolds mildly. "Be fair."

There's a slow sigh, then, "My apologies. You at least had the good graces to ask before trying, and you didn't hypnotize away the chance of a 'no.'"

"No offense taken," the stranger replies, and the parlor lapses into silence, though Daniel can still hear them moving.

Finally, footsteps head towards the entryway, and Daniel practically leaps out of the way when a devil steps through the doorway from the parlor. His suit is tailored, even if his cravat and his waistcoat are...artfully clashing. He looks remarkably human, all things considered, save for the slits of his pupils, and when he calls over his shoulder, "You have company," Daniel catches a glimpse of fangs and a forked tongue.

The devil offers Daniel a dazzling grin before stepping past him and heading out the door. Daniel shakes off his stupor after only a second and hurries into the parlor. If someone doesn't prod Shai into putting together a lesson plan it's not likely to happen, and he knows Dresden and Adelaide are elsewhere for the day.

**

"He doesn't like you." Shai offers the words plainly, staring up at the ceiling. The floor of the study is not the most comfortable place, but it's where they are and they can't be particularly bothered to put themself somewhere else just yet.

The devil peers down at them, one eyebrow arching. When they don't move, the devil concedes the stare-off to instead idly peruse one of the bookshelves. He's read more books than Shai has even heard of, likely by at least threefold, but they don't call him on it.

"Your mousey friend?" the devil questions eventually, wryly amused. He glances over his shoulder, but Shai is still staring at the ceiling.

"Daniel," Shai corrects, as sharp as they ever are at that point. As sharp as they can manage. "He's not a big on devils. Or any of...all that, really."

"How do you find your friends?" the devil wonders, returning to the center of the room to peer down at Shai on the floor again.

"Happenstance, mostly," they answer placidly. "Or sex. That was common, too, though not in this case."

The devil's eyebrows rise, their amusement plain. "He does know you're a Trickster on your off days, yes?"

"I may have neglected to bring it up," they deadpan, and the devil barks out an incredulous laugh.

**

Daniel should probably start knocking. The devil is there again when he walks through the front door, by all appearances trying to teach one of the dimmer ravens to dance for a handful of dog kibble. Shai is nowhere in sight, but it's not really surprising. The townhouse is too big for its own good on most days.

"You'll likely be waiting for a while," the devil remarks eventually, as Daniel shifts back and forth on his feet in the entryway. "They're busy, and I have matters to discuss with them."

"I'm not even sure you should be here," Daniel grouses in return, before he can quite keep the words from tumbling out. His hands twitch, as if to cover his mouth, before he steels himself and instead shoves his hands into his pockets. "I mean, they're in this situation because of another devil."

The devil's eyebrows rise, though he doesn't seem surprised by the outburst, and slowly he grins. "True enough," he agrees. "But do you somehow doubt they were aware of all of the possibilities when they decided to invite us in? Ah, yes, I can see it now." He spreads his hands in front of himself, as if to present a billboard. "University Professor Consorts With Devils, Somehow Forgot What Devils Do."

Daniel flusters, his face heating as senseless syllables trip out of his mouth, before he manages, "I just don't want anyone making anything worse, is all."

The devil tucks his hands together neatly behind his back, and his smile is impish as he points out, "You don't even know what my business here is."

"I know enough about how devils--"

The devil clicks his tongue. "Now, now. Let's not be insensitive."

Daniel rolls his eyes, but he doesn't get a chance to reply before he hears Shai's cane on the tile in the hallway. They lean around the doorframe a moment later, watching silently until the devil trails after them out of the room.

Daniel grumbles under his breath and stomps into the parlor to wait.

**

They should probably explain what's going on to everyone else. Dresden knows; he lives in the room upstairs. Adelaide...might know? They aren't sure. She's gone often enough that it's conceivable. But they know that Daniel doesn't know.

But they suspect it won't be the best idea to fill him in. He knows Shai is attempting to reclaim their soul, though he probably assumes Shai is doing it from a considerably more sideways angle. And they suspect that if Daniel knew the truth, he would not believe it. Or he would not believe the sincerity, at any rate. It's understandable. Little about Shai is actually sincere. Daniel has known them long enough to know this, and to know that it tends to extend to the company they keep.

So they suppose they shall just keep it to themself, at least for the time being. They can explain it all later. Afterwards.

As it is, they have no real motivation to care at the moment.

**

Daniel can't say he feels particularly at ease knowing the devil is there, but even so, he needs to smother a laugh behind his hands as he listens. He can hear the devil's conversation with Shai drifting down the stairs.

"Oh, don't give me that look," the devil scolds, though he still sounds remarkably cheerful. "Either you at the very least get your sorry soulless backside out of bed, or I'm going to start singing. And you're the one who graciously informed me that I can't carry a tune in a bucket."

There's a long moment of silence, and then finally, resigned, "At least help me put my arms on."

"Oh, no," the devil tuts, sarcasm dripping from his words so thickly Daniel worries it might eat its way through the floor like acid, "I was just going to stand here and watch you wiggle fruitlessly."

"To be fair, it wouldn't be so different from that time you--"

"Ah, ah, ah~" the devil practically sings. "Not with company in the house."

"Oh. Is it Daniel?"

It's strange, still, even after weeks, to hear Shai call him Daniel, rather than some sort of pet name. He doesn't dwell on it, instead calling up the stairs, "Please don't start talking about your sex life while I'm within earshot."

The devil pokes his head around the edge of the top of the stairs, grinning toothily as he points out, "Strictly speaking, you're intruding, so it would be your own fault."

"I have a blanket invitation," Daniel returns primly. He hears a thump through the floor and tacks on, "Go help them with their limbs. I'm staying down here until I know everyone is wearing pants."

The devil clicks his tongue, feigning disappointment. "A coward's way out," he sighs, though he leans away from the stairs once again.

Daniel flips through the notes for one of Shai's lectures as he waits.

**

They're supposed to be grading. Shai knows this. The reports are in front of them, and if they cock their head right they can concede that some of them are interesting, some of them are hysterically awful, and most of them are simply…present. It doesn't even particularly bother them to think of their students that way, even knowing they had nearly ruined the professor of astrological confinement's career for the same slight.

They read the words on the page, and the words make sense, but that is it. They are tired, and they don't care enough about the words to keep reading, and the only reason they do is because Adelaide is leaning in the doorway, idly picking her nails clean with her kukri. She will object if they try to shirk their duties, so they duck towards the pages once again.

They are tired, more than anything, and when at last they finish with the reports their are fully aware of just how bland their feedback is. But it's all they can drum up just then, so they pile the reports into a neat stack and set it aside, fold their arms on the desk, and fall asleep right there.

The dreams, bizarrely, remain unaltered. Or at least the content of them does. They can't really bring themself to wake up in a fit halfway through, though.

**

Shai is...frustrated, in as much as they really get frustrated anymore. Characters of the Correspondence are scattered on papers all around them on the floor, Shai kneeling in the middle of them like an offering at a shrine.

"Having trouble?" Daniel wonders, peering cautiously into the room, looking through his fingers because the last time he got a good look at the Correspondence he barfed on the rug. He's fairly sure the imp still hasn't forgiven him for that.

Shai hums a low note but doesn't answer immediately, instead carefully reordering a few of the pages. Some of them begin smoking at the edges, and Dresden is already standing nearby with a bucket of water, though none of them properly combust just yet.

"Translating them is as much a feeling as it is anything else," Shai eventually answers, picking up a page, only to pause and rethink it and set it back down. "I'm running rather low on those of late," they point out. "Feelings, I mean. I use most of them up by about noon."

"What, like a well?" Daniel asks, bemused. He can't really bring himself to feel as silly as he probably should, talking from behind his hand while he hides behind the corner.

"A bit," Shai agrees. "I save them up for the university," they supply, absently tracing the tip of one claw over a character. A spark jumps off the metal and they jerk their hand back. "To pretend," they clarify. "The others there wouldn't take it well if they suspected." There's a thoughtful beat, and they tip their head back, gaze trailing towards the ceiling. "Some of my students likely suspect, but they aren't much to worry about. Their loyalty has been earned."

Daniel's not quite sure what he's supposed to say to that just then, and it's a moot point shortly enough, as Shai's attention drifts back to the pages scattered around them. They observe, with something like muzzled irritation, "I can barely even read what I already translated myself."

"If it makes you feel better, I don't think Dresden can read any of it," Daniel supplies.

Across the parlor and looking slightly queasy, Dresden shifts the bucket to one hand so he flip Daniel off.

"There is that," Shai agrees, and Dresden very visibly reins in his desire to dump the bucket of water over Shai's head.

**

It has been weeks. A couple months, probably, but they haven't really been keeping track. It seems like every day they have a to-do list that is a mile long, and they can never quite recall why most of it is important or why they ever elected to stay so busy.

Once, just to see what would happen, Daniel asked them about their Alex and they could scarcely even recall who that was.

Everyone is more than a little concerned, and they can't even figure out why their to-do list matters, instead doing it dutifully, day after day, simply because they know they'll be hounded if they don't.

They're fairly sure they caught Dresden chasing a journalist away from the door the other day, eager to get a scoop on where they've been lately. They'll likely be outraged at the audacity later, but for now it's just...something that happened.

Shai can't help but to wonder, every so often, if eventually it will just be too late, and getting their soul back will make no difference. The words well, what would be the point of it all, then? scratch at their mind, and they recall the vial of cantigaster venom still sealed in a cupboard. But it seems rather unlikely, really. They're fairly sure contracts would be less of a big deal if souls could still burn themselves up when they weren't actually in use.

Perhaps it's best if they just think of something else for the time being. Adelaide will be through the door at any moment, after all, and she's sure to have something for them to do.

**

There’s a knock on the townhouse door, and when Shai opens it the devil is standing there, holding a bundle to his chest. It's wrapped in one of his gaudier scarves. Shai reaches out carefully, plucking the bundle from the devil's hands and then tucking their rolled up contract into the devil's front pocket. The devil arches one wry eyebrow.

With a few tugs, the bundle falls open, and Shai is holding a squat, unadorned glass jar in their hand. They hold it up to eye level, inspecting it for a moment, though it looks largely identical to every other soul jar, and they have seen many. They inspect it for only a moment before they pull the lid off and lift it to their lips.

They tip their head back, and a shudder chases itself down their spine as they down it in a few quick gulps. Slowly, they straighten back up...and not especially much happens. At least until the jar abruptly falls from their grip, shattering on the step.

Slowly, Shai grins, toothsome and shark-like. Scarf still tangled in their grip, they reach for the devil, tugging him forward by the lapels. When they kiss, it is not a gentle intimacy, and it’s a long moment before either of them can speak again.

"We've been over this," the devil says, sounding slightly huffy. "If anyone is going to take it, it's going to be me, and it's going to be because you handed it to me. It's not any fun if someone just plucks it out like a ripe strawberry."

"A pleasant image," Shai assures him wryly, smoothing the devil's jacket with one hand. "But thank you, all the same." Their grin gentles just slightly at the edges, words softening in a way that they rarely ever do.

"Just try not to get used to it," the devil grouses. "It's rather the opposite of my job description, and you would not believe the paperwork" he grumbles, reaching to pluck his scarf from Shai's grasp as he does.

Shai pulls their hand back and up, holding the scarf just out of reach. It's rather easy to be taller than the devil in four inch heels, after all. The devil pouts, but he makes no further attempts to take the scarf back, save for a sulky, "You won't even wear it."

"That's because you have horrible taste," Shai replies pleasantly, as they tuck the scarf into their vest for safe keeping. "But I demand souvenirs and you didn't think to bring me any."

The devil rolls his eyes, and he glances pointedly at the glass smashed across the step. Shai is disinclined to take the statement back.

The devil reaches up, cupping Shai's chin affectionately between his thumb and forefinger. "I suppose I should take my leave for the evening." His eyes narrow slightly. "Do try not to get into any further trouble for the time being."

"No promises," Shai sing-songs in return, linking their hands together behind their back. "But I suppose I shall at least put in the effort."

With one final roll of his eyes, the devil releases Shai's chin and backs up, stepping down from the porch. He's on his way just a moment later.

**

The imp is silent as he leads Daniel to the docks. A rather rude sort of silence. Daniel knew the imp hadn't forgiven him for barfing on the rug. He's spared from needing to dwell on the matter, though, when they slow to a halt in front of a familiar, battered steamer.

Daniel looks around quickly, and then looks up, to see Shai sitting casually on top of the steamer's cabin, one leg crossed over the other and a dented tin mug in one hand. They're still wearing their university robe, albeit unlaced and hanging open over their vest.

"Evening, zailor," Shai greets, grinning like a barracuda. They lift their mug high and waggle it in the air, until the wine inside slops over their hand. "Can I tempt you?"

Daniel is grinning before he's even aware of it, and he hops from the dock to the steamer's deck and climbs up to the top of the cabin. Shai has a second mug there already, and the bottle tucked behind their elbow.

"A toast?" Daniel wonders, holding the second mug as Shai pours a healthy amount into it.

"Nh. Nothing off the top of my head," Shai sighs, head lolling back as they lean back on one arm. "A thank you, more like," they add, sliding Daniel a sidelong glance. They smile crookedly, just a hint of serrated sharpness visible at the corner.

Daniel grins in return, both hands curling around his mug. "We'll call it all squared away," he returns, "if you promise to never let that happen again."

Shai scoffs and brings their mug to their chest. "I don't make promises," they huff, and it's a lie and Daniel knows it's a lie, so he takes it as the tentative agreement it's meant to be.

#fallen london fanfic #fallen london

[leapinlxzards]

💐 = How would your muse respond to receiving a bouquet from an admirer? What kind of flowers would they prefer in the bouquet?

Question about the muse—send a symbol!

💐 = How would your muse respond to receiving a bouquet from an admirer? What kind of flowers would they prefer in the bouquet?

their immediate reaction would be bewilderment, then suspicion, and then finally, irritation. their initial assumption would be that they’re being asked to pass the bouquet along to someone else, sort of as an in-between party to bridge the gap for someone who’s too nervous to do it themselves. when the other person corrects them and tells them that it’s for rory themself, they would be immediately defensive and wary. the assumption would then shift to either the other person being sarcastic and that they simply failed to pick up on this, or else that the other person is doing this as some sort of dare or attempt to embarrass them, à la being asked out as a joke to be laughed at. 

rory has trouble reading peoples’ motives at times, and will often overcompensate for this deficit by assuming the worst and trying to keep a leg up on the other person by refusing them, believing that assuming the other person is trying to hurt or embarrass them is a safer bet than taking their overly-kind gestures at face value and risking ridicule for it when it turns out to be insincere. if the person insists, they’ll grow irritated unless it’s someone they truly, genuinely trust not to pull one over on them and will warily take the offered bouquet while feeling immensely off-center and put on the spot. they will likely still not trust the gesture as a genuine one and will try to crack a wry, rambling joke about how they’re terrible at keeping plants alive while asserting the flowers are probably better off in someone else’s hands. it’s very likely the admirer’s intended gesture will not get through rory’s thick and very wary skull in the way the person hoped it would have at this point.

they’re not a big fan of bouquets as their care requires resources they don’t have to spare (like clean water and, like, some kind of container to put them in), but if you’re absolutely dead-set on it, your absolute best bet to have rory enjoy the gesture is not picking flowers according to colour or meaning, but by texture. any bell-shaped flowers (but particularly lillies of the valley), carnations, hydrangeas, peonies, and essentially any flowers that have a lot of petals or individual flowers all clustered together are a good bet, as rory is very texturally-minded and takes great enjoyment in just running their fingers over textures they enjoy.

#they're also less likely to be uncomfortable by the gesture if you just pick them wildflowers tbh!! #awkward-snake-girl #you can also just like. give them a zebra cactus. they love those lil bumpy dudes. #{ 🦎 ; additional info } #sb: hey rory i like you here's a nice gesture to prove it! :) #rory. holding a knife warily in their direction: what the fuck do you want from me

[captusmomentum]

@feynites @theladypirate

Here’s Part 1 of the “Worst Honeymoon Ever” or “Cleaning Up Falon’din’s Mess”

I figured I’d post the part I had that wasn’t fighting with me since it’s a good length and who knows when they other bit will wanna play nice. 

So enjoy some more Tanzanite Trio arranged marriage au stuff!

Uthvir and Thenvunin (mentioned) are feynites!

No one was under the illusion that renovating Falon’Din’s lands and holdings would be easy. Everywhere his influence had touched some kind of nightmarish element to it and removing those while trying to maintain the structure and not interfere with his former victims lives was slow difficult work.  The project was in a odd nebulous place, it was aesthetic in someways and so not a priority, but his tastes were so morbid and unappealing and his memory so unsavory that stripping everything so people could live there comfortably and safely was a high priority.

Which is how it ended up being put on Inanallas’s desk as her major task in this…whatever it was but how it  also ended up wildly understaffed, consisting of just her and a few small crews of workers from various clans. The idea is that his palaces will be converted into something more akin to embassies or as needed housing for the clans and the rest of the renovations will create a blank slate for the people living there to decorate as desired. The people most likely to live there were Alhanin and themself along with their spouses, but Alhanin had more than enough to do and Inanallas was already the political middle man, so they were the “best choice”.

Inan had been uncomfortable with requesting workers from the imperial elves, it was too uncomfortable knowing how little choice the workers would have in it and everything was simply too horrible to force on people, so they’d just made a very loud request through the clans and some people can forward and here they were.  

Inan had also maybe made very desperate plea full of sad puppy looks to Haninan to help them, though only once the brunt of the removal was done or if they ran into a major problem. He had made a very big and very hammy display of being put upon but resigned to helping a foolish child with their lessons.

The project meets almost immediately with a problem, the question of where should Inanallas and their new spouses live during this. The logical choice would be on or near the site but it there was no way Inan would subject them to this horror show. Maybe when they had at least half of the main palace stripped bare Inan would consider it, since there’d then be a reasonable about of Non-Horrible space to move around in. But they also can’t not have them nearish without a very good reason and they can’t just say “your brother/son was a monster and his design choices were a sadist’s fever dream made real” when asked about it. Especially since there’s no clear timeline for how long this will take, years certainly. It’s a lot of land to cover but how many? The longer they’re apart from their spouses the worse it will be in the long run for negotiations and all that political stuff. And cultural too they suppose, since people from each side will likely see it as a failure and blame it on the other.

But on the other hand they do have a good point when it comes to holding them off for a time. There is a lot of work to be done to make this place livable, and they’re going to need quarters here which will have to get renovated at some point. Logically their rooms should be at minimum demolished and cleaned out before the two consider moving there. As a bonus for the political end they can call it a wedding gift or something and you know, not just basic decency, which seems to be the pattern with the imperial types. Why be decent all the time when you can withhold it and then be heralded as a hero for not kicking someone in the head? Still…someone will still probably want them in sooner so they’re close to Inanallas regardless of all that…

Eventually after a lot of brooding, pacing and discussion with some of their friends in the Dreaming they decide to leave it up to their spouses to decide what they want to do. They’ll explain the renovation situation, and tell them their plan to prioritize renovating their quarters first. That by no means do they have to move in immediately or even after more of the palace renovations are done, but they’ll at least have their own quarters ready for them to personalize or transition into as at their own pace.

Thenvunin’s reaction is unsurprising. He’s intensely relieved despite his obvious attempts not to show it and they don’t blame him, they don’t want to be there either. He thanks them politely for considering him in the process and thinks he will begin to prepare himself to move once his quarters are stripped and redone but first he must confer with Mythal on the matter for her opinion. They respond with equal politeness that it was no problem and that he could take as much time as he needed and he was always welcome to call on them if he so desired.

Uthvir’s is a bit surprising. At first they bristle, clearly very against the idea of living there— again, the only correct reaction, but then there’s a lot of questions, generally about things like “how much is being destroyed?” and “how would they be doing it?”. They seem to become more thoughtful then, once it’s clear there’s going to be a complete gut job. They’re surprised when they agree to come with them later to start the whole process but they don’t question it. Andruil must be worse than they thought, or something else is going on they’re unaware of.

Uthvir doesn’t seem to have much in terms of personal effects outside of equipment which they guess makes sense, they can’t imagine the Evanuris actually let people keep things. They help them move it all into the aravel Inan has been living in during all this, the two of them will live there until they get their own quarters in the building livable. They start early the next day, Inanallas accompanying Uthvir to pick out both their quarters and Thenvunin’s future one.

Inan had already decided sight unseen that Falon’din’s former apartments were completely off limits to everyone for any reason. The first thing they had done when they’d visited here months earlier was to quarantine and lock off the whole floor and the floor under it on top of the various stasis spells and warding their colleagues had done, just to be safe. They were not looking forward to dealing with that later…

It’s not pleasant picking out their new living spaces what with everything still looking like a psychopath’s wet dream, even so Uthvir seems even more uncomfortable than they do. They’re tempted to ask if they’re okay but decide against it, not sure how to even broach that with the hunter. It doesn’t take too long for the two to pick for themselves, neither of them are exactly fancy or picky, but Thenvunin’s takes a little longer. It has to be reasonably close to both of theirs but also be Thenvunin-y, which is something Inan is relying heavily on Uthvir to find. They managed it before long, finding three apartments in the corner of a floor 2/3rds up the building. Inanallas taking the smallest and the largest would be Thenvunin’s.

Inan marked the doors with bright Xs in paint so they could find them again then told Uthvir they could start working on their own rooms while they went to give orders to the work crews for here and to those crews being sent out.

When they get back Uthvir’s door is open and they’re working like a demon, systematically ripping the place apart. They talk briefly before Inan leaves them to it and starts on their own. Eventually someone comes and hands them some food which the two of them pick at occasionally while they work, more interested in getting done then anything else at the time. It’s well into the night when they’re done and Inan is genuinely surprised by their progress, their rooms are both completely bare down to the baseboards. Of course they’d managed that speed because neither of them was being particularly careful, there was an absolute trash yard in the hall outside, and they had both exhausted themselves and were now covered in grime and sweat. So… not exactly a great method to do the rest of the Palace with…

Inan looks morosely at the pile. They should really do something about that now, they think, even though they really wanted to just go to bed and sleep for 50 years. It’d just be a hassle tomorrow if they left it there…

Mournfully Inan tells Uthvir they can go back and sleep if they want while Inan deals with the rubble but the hunter just brushes it off, with a look ad a grunt and sets to helping them break the wood and furniture into fuel for the crews’ fires then taking that, the stone and any other detritus down to the designated spaces. The two go through the motions in the silence of determined exhaustion, violently hating very second of it and themselves for being so disgustingly responsible. Or at least that’s Inanallas’s feeling which they are completely projecting. When the two finally make it back to the aravel there’s the grim realization that there’s more between them and rest.

There’s no way Inan can get to sleep this filthy and they bet it’s about the same for Uthvir—maybe worse since they wore armor the entire time.

“There should be a bathhouse somewhere in the Palace.” Uthvir offers, voice a little hoarse from tired.

“Any idea where it is?” They reply with weak hope.

“No.”

Inan groans. “I don’t wanna wander around there in the middle of the night looking for jack shit.” They sigh and grab a couple of large buckets outside of the aravel. “Gimme a minute, I’ll be back.”

Uthvir debates their options. They don’t like the idea of stripping in range of a near stranger (or anyone really) but Fear’s hackles raise even further at the idea of bathing — no matter how quickly — alone and in any secluded place outside in Falon’Din’s former lands. Too dangerous, it hisses and Uthvir can’t help but agree. They knew being here would be hard, but the opportunity to obliterate all traces of  Falon’Din was worth it for the most part. Or it would be, in the end.

They consider if they can tolerate it until they can find the baths, but they’re so coated with dried sweat, dust and debris that had somehow gotten under their armor they cannot stand themselves. They consider if they can wait until Inanallas is asleep but then they run the risk of the little wild elf asking questions which they too tired to deal with deflecting right now.

Eventually they settle on washing now and begin taking off their armor. Uthvir is halfway through when Inanallas returns with buckets full of water, a spell for heating crawling across them. They pause in divesting themselves to collect a change of clothing and towel from inside the aravel as Inanallas does the same. Oonce back outside Inanallas begins to strip immediately looking as desperate as they feel to be clean, but Uthvir does not speed up their pace to match. They take stock of the sheer amount of tattoo work on Inanallas with great interest, particularly the 4 concentric rings and magical writing on their back. Hm. That certainly explains some of their power…

They also take note of their form but are frankly, too tired to care much past basic observation. Petite, well muscled, with broad shoulders and slim hips, scars, and a sea of freckles all over. Not bad… it seems at least Uthvir has lucked out and been saddled with two very attractive spouses. Uthvir washes their hair first before they’re completely undressed and by the time they’re ready to move on to their body Inan is groaning in reluctance and begrudgingly pulling down her disastrous braided bun.

Uthvir’s plan as worked perfectly, Inan’s vision is completely obscured by their long mop of hair, completely unable to see anything as Uthvir briskly cleans themselves with furious efficiency. They’re dried and dressed and Inan is still powering through their hair muttering curses the entire time. They decide to take pity and help them with rinsing and managing it as they haphazardly comb and braid it. Their lips twitch, almost into a smirk as they imagine Thenvunin’s reaction to this poor display.

Now clean and barely conscious two stumble blearily into their lodgings and promptly collapse.

Inanallas has nightmares.

A rough pattern emerges as they move into the swing of things, they eat with the rest of the workers then get to work tearing out everything that’s not necessary to the building’s integrity. The majority of the work is being done in the public areas and Uthvir slowly gains some authority over the workers as Inanallas leaves them in charge when they have to travel to check on the other work crews spread throughout the territory. When they can swing it, they visit Thenvunin —sometimes together, sometimes separately— to give him updates and spend time with him. He himself only visits when strictly necessary, the more time they spend wading through Falon’din’s aftermath the more and more glad the other two are he comes so rarely. After work all the workers including Inanallas and Uthvir, generally eat together then do whatever they wish until the next day. The two have mutually decided to not live in the palace for as long as possible, it barely required more then a look for that to get settled.

They can see Inanallas degrading with each day the strange elf is here.

Uthvir has asked them about it after the other had a straight week of nightmares and began plastering the aravel with increasingly more spells, wards and charms. Inanallas had explained their abilities somewhat and how the area was not mixing well with them, but did not wish to go too deeply into it. They aren’t sure if the vagueness is from a lack of accurate description, their usual poor speech impaired by exhaustion or an intentional if sloppy dodge but they don’t press the issue. They didn’t need to cause them more discomfort or try to decipher their babbling to understand how toxic this place was, it was wearing at them too.

Fear was riding high constantly now and their joint maelstrom of negavity was draining. Every minute here is like having an old wound opened and forced to stay so, they despise every second of it so intensely they can taste it. It’s not difficult to see how it’d be even more damaging to someone significantly more open to the Dreaming and all that entails. At least for Uthvir there is some deep satisfaction in smashing in the head of every statue of that monster, and hearing the wild elves cheer at their destruction is a lovely icing to their revenge. For Inanallas however, it’s just work. Hard,   seemingly endless, torturous work. There’s little they can do to aid them past taking some of the responsibility and make sure they do not over exert themselves. They try when Inan is asleep to help soothe them, but Fear can only do so much, Inanallas has many fears —most contradictory somehow— but they’re not exactly scared of this place, they dread it but they’re not afraid. Fear soothes what it can as Uthvir watches them and wonders what is going on in that odd little head.

Despite all that —or perhaps because of it— Inanallas made the call to finally do the first sweep of Falon’Din’s chambers. There’s several offers to assist them but Inanallas shouts them all down, even Uthvir, claiming that there’s no need for them all to drop everything to do this. It’s unspoken that what they’re really saying is “I won’t make anyone else be exposed to whatever horrors are in there”. They don’t admit to it but Uthvir is quietly relieved they don’t have to go up there, regardless if it means Inanallas is going in alone.

They take the reins of the workers again but keep an eye out for Inanallas that day. First they see her not too long after she’s begun working on Falon’din’s apartments returning from the aravel with more clothing on, including some sort of tight head covering, not too unlike a fitted scarf, that obscured their nose and mouth. The stone of dread that had been heavy in their stomach since the morning grew larger, they do not ask why.

The second time is when they come to talk quietly with some of the other clan elves— the ones with the highest constitutions they suspect— and pulls them away to help them with whatever they’ve found. Again they do not ask.

The third time is when they and their assistants begin bringing down boxes that can only be makeshift coffins they’re using to transport the remains of Falon’din’s final victims. Uthvir turns and does not watch as they go.

“We have to tear this entire thing down.”

It comes out of the blue but it’s not a new thought.

Inanallas declares it shortly after Falon’din’s apartments are opened. The overall mood has been muted since then but this halts it completely as the severity of that unspoken thought finally being said out loud washes over them.

“The entire place has too much that needs to be removed and trying to do so while keeping things in tact is more time and effort than rebuilding completely. And the Dreaming connected to this place is ruined and corrupted, we have to tear it all down and start from fixing that, otherwise this place will aways be a horror regardless of what we do. Do a final sweep for anything that should be removed from the building then seal it. I’m going to go to Arlathan to talk to the Elders and Evanuris about this.”

There’s general muttering of agreement as people bring their breakfasts to a quick end and get moving early to condemn the place. Inanallas prepares for their trip and before they go, Uthvir catches their arm, they’re not sure why nor do they have anything to say but Inan places a hand of their’s for a brief moment, then removes it and goes.

#arranged tanzanite au #tanzanite trio #sup I'm cap mo and i'm a fucking downer #i don't write ships i write tragedies #frankly i'm still not even completely sure if uthvir would even /go/ but i went w/ it bc 1. Plot and 2. it /would/ be satisfying #to help set all trace of FD on fire #and get the fuck away from andruil who u KNOW has gotten WORSE on the whole sooooo #at least they're both miserable :D #don't worry thenvunin will more screen time later and take charge #also tuck them both in and tut at them for taking such poor care of themselves

[arabhusband]

Sometimes I really feel like big name movie/shows/game writers just don’t realize what kind of characters they’re handling. However good a writer you are, no one can create a “new personality”, in the end all fictional characters are based off real people the writer knows, and their own personality traits (and on existing fictional characters, who, in turn... you guessed it).

And just like you can only know so many people through and through, really often, the personality traits you’ve picked up from existing people for your writing, they’re from people who, without your knowledge, could be lesbians, gays, bisexuals, transgender people; could be neurodivergent, could be autistic, could be a number of things they didn’t disclose to you for their own safety. And yes, people belonging to the same group of ANY kind end up sharing some behaviour/personality traits specific to that group. Not every single time, of course, but it’s undeniable that it’s a real phenomenon. Especially with neurodivergence for the obvious reasons, where some symptoms are mixed in with traits. Don’t try to fight me on this. But you’ve picked up those “interesting” character traits for your character. And you’re outraged that someone who has those personality traits recognizes them and goes “they’re just like me!” and people chime in saying “you can’t know the character better than the creator!”. Anyways, here’s 3K words about GTAV, Trevor Philips and Michael De Santa, the Trevor end, disappointing character writing, and how mainstream narrative keeps failing me. Warning for the use of lots of ableist words (in reference to the vocabulary used in canon).

I was just gonna vent about Trevor and Michael and how painfully, obviously gay they are for each other but I realized I had so much more to say, especially about Trevor. Get ready for this wild ride.

I) Trevor

First off, what breaks my heart very often is the portrayal of Cluster A personality disorders in mainstream media but that’s not news. Quoted from Rockstar themselves, “Trevor was considered to embody insanity”. A lot of writers still believe widely that it’s okay (or even interesting) to make a “crazy” character, by stating that their actual mental illness is irrelevant. That they appreciate the ~concept of insanity~ dismissing that it is a caricature of very real mental illness.

Very often in this case clinical terms are not mentioned, creating some fantasy mental illness that just makes the character violent, scary, unpredictable. It’s very convenient when you’re a lazy writer to just stick the word crazy on your character and not have to do any actual character writing, apparently.  The fact that the terms “mentally ill” are not used is because those writers feel better about it if they distance themself as much as possible from the reality of neurodivergence and mental illness. I’m not gonna explain the whole history of demonization of mental illness in media for the sake of a narrative... I think most of my mutuals here are aware of the reality of it, and how much it hurts and stigmatizes mentally ill and neurodivergent people. In the case of Trevor, clinical terms are used messily. Trevor is said interchangeably ingame to be a sociopath or a psychopath, and even if that is technically a word associated with an antisocial personality disorder it’s obvious that the words aren’t used in reference to it, but rather as a catch all for cr*zy, ins*ne.

A) Trevor is Not Like The Other Cr*zies :)... aka We Forgot People With Cluster A Are People Too

But here’s the irony with Trevor.

Steven Ogg, the voice actor and motion capture model said himself: [while Trevor embodies the violent, psychopathic GTA anti-hero archetype] he wanted players to sympathise with Trevor's story. "To elicit other emotions was tough, and it was the biggest challenge and it's something that meant a lot to me,"

It’s just baffling to me how...somehow, a step forward in writing a mentally ill person HUMANLY, at last, was pretty much inintentional. The focus was more on having the players root for Trevor for the sake of playabilty, since Trevor was to be a playable character, rather than just thinking, hey, mentally ill people are actually human and not entirely defined by their illness, so maybe we should give the character some relatability.

But the conflict shows, glaringly: From video game journalists only, you can tell that the two concepts (A dehumanizing first concept; A want for the character to be likable) clashed so much that a lot of people didn’t understand where the character was going. Let’s take a look at a few popular reviews.

“Eurogamer's Tom Bramwell, however, felt that Trevor undermined the other characters because he was a "shallow and unconvincing" sensationalised anti-hero, and that "his antics derail[ed] the narrative" and overshadowed the character development of Michael and Franklin.”

A lot (surprisingly, and believe me, not al!l) of Trevor’s “antics” are cringeworthy caricatural “cr*zy” behavior. It’s obvious that those scenes aren’t intentionally added for comedic relief: when you take the game as a whole, you can see that they’re there to establish Trevor’s character. But the thing is, Trevor’s character is understandable enough in the main storyline through his interactions with Michael and Trevor without all the stuff that felt superfluous. It felt superfluous because Steven Ogg’s performance, meant to humanize him in the main story line, is... well it’s good!! When you pick it apart, all the parts that “derailed from the narrative” were insulting portrayals of vague Cluster A symptomes. And I find it surprising that no thinkpieces on GTAV has mentioned that. It’s almost like people have a blind spot for ableism.

Not only that, but Trevor’s past establishes so much about his personality and behaviour... I’ll talk about this in a minute.

Lucas Sullivan of GamesRadar praised Trevor for being the first character in the series that "makes sense". He stated that, upon their first playthrough of a Grand Theft Auto game, most players "carjacked some poor schlub, then started doing 90mph on the sidewalk, mowing over civilians", as opposed to playing peacefully. "Trevor's existence isn't a commentary on any group of people–he's just the first logical fit to the way people have been playing GTA games for the past decade," he said. Sullivan concluded that Trevor is one of the few protagonists in the Grand Theft Auto that would willingly execute popular player actions, such as murder and violence.

God, this review kills me. Here’s why. This review, in my opinion, says everything that is wrong with mainstream character writing. No one has ever needed a character to be a “psycho/sociopath” to feel the need for inconsequencial fictional violence. “Most players” enjoy partaking in violence in video games simply because it’s cathartic, it doesn’t (directly) hurt anyone... I’m not gonna talk about the debate on whether violence in video games makes people violent etc. But the thing is, I’m pretty sure a majority of players do this, and I’m pretty sure the majority of them aren’t psycho/sociopaths either. Moreover, previous GTA characters all willingly exectuted mindless violence, without the whole violent mental illness trope!

So what does it say about people like Lucas Sullivan, and what does it say about the game? Unfortunately, Lucas Sullivan is right about one thing, in my opinion: “ Trevor's existence isn't a commentary on any group of people”.

He could be, but he isn’t, because of that conflict I mentioned earlier. Trevor, in the end, has a major character writing flaw: he’s torn between an accurate representation of a mentally ill character, and an ableist, empty psychopath archetype that neurotypical people love to, pardon my French, jack off to. Lucas Sullivan particularly enjoys this roleplay in which he’s this weird fantasm of what a psycho/sociopath is, because that’s what’s being served up to him.

B) Writing Good???? Not at Rockstar! Not On Their Watch!

The writing in GTAV (and most mainstream media) is held back and sabotaged by their own, real fear of seeming “politically correct” or “activism driven”. Just for being accurate. And they’re very aware of it. And I mean you’ll tell me, of course, Ziyed, it’s Rockstar!!! What did you expect!! Well, I expect nothing but I’m still disappointed. I’m very aware that all big video game corporations are Terrible and Awful but hey, sue me, it makes it all the more satisfying to pick apart.

Obviously I’m sure that people who follow this blog are already aware of that, which also applies to the lack of race diversity, lgbt representation and body diversity in mainstream media. The reason I’m talking about Trevor’s mental illness in particular here is because 1. There’s a cruel lack of writing on the subject of neurodivergence and mental illness ableism even in blogging spaces 2. His “insanity” (mental illness) is, according to the writers themselves, his defining trait.

And it is disappointing particularly since the premise for Trevor is so promising when you start out, or else I wouldn’t bother criticizing it. It’s not ALL BAD, and it frustrates. His environment and past all make sense, they’re all mentioned in canon plainly, but briefly: unstable, physically and mentally abusive family that normalizes his violent impulses early on; It’s implied his family is poor (hence the dream of big heists later and getting rich), so he has no access to mental health; a failing education system that pushes him out; The detail that all of society pushes him out because of his mental illness, when it is mentioned that Trevor’s dream was crushed when he fails his mental health test to enter the military to become a pilot.

When you put it all together, Trevor is the product of a society that hates the poor and the mentally ill and drives them to a life of crime. And it kills me that all of this is thrown at you in maybe two boring long conversations that throw Trevor’s story at you, the first one in the long car ride to meet Michael for the first time, and the second one in the long first plane ride. 1.It’s lazy writing. I don’t want the game to tell me, I want the game to SHOW ME. 2. You’re really gonna cram everything that made Trevor who he is in two tutorial scenes? Really...???

I said Rockstar is aware of their fear of being viewed as politically correct, and here’s why: With all of this, you’d think Trevor would be the perfect character for social commentary, but the game skirts around it with useless antics. But when Rockstar is accused of gratuitous violence for shock value in the waterboarding scene, suddenly it’s a “political commentary on the use of torture by the United States government”. So obviously Rockstar knows to pick its topical battles.

C) Gay and Crazy, Now Made Gamer-Friendly

The same way Trevor’s mental illness is diluted down to an archetype, his gayness is played in large part for laughs and shock value, and is made part of his overall outrageous, chaotic behaviour. Trevor is (almost) everything American society views as shocking: mentally ill, addicted to drugs, a criminal, and outrageously sexual. He is so sexually offensive to a point where he’s not just a crude flirty bisexual man but the overly sexual nightmare of a cishet man. Alright, for this part, I might be missing information, because overtime I’ve heard a lot of people call Trevor a rapist, and the only scene I know people have interpreted as rape is when you spawn as Trevor in the apartment, and Floyd is laying in bed sobbing next to him, fully clothed, apologizing to his girlfriend out loud. I personally didn’t interpret it as rape (because it’s not mentioned, explained, and also because they were spooning, I honestly believed that they just had sex and Floyd was just disgusted with himself because Trevor is generally unattractive, and I thought that was the “joke”) but it’s undeniable that it was in poor taste and implied it for whomever wanted to believe that. Either way, it proves my point which is: Rockstar just couldn’t make Trevor gay without making him a sex offender with rapey undertones because... it’s Rockstar, because Gay Panic, because Rockstar is homophobic and that’s not news. In such a strongly LGBTphobic mindset that is the GTA franchise and the culture surrounding it, the kind of gamers it targets, I was surprised when I started playing to see Trevor was implied to be bisexual. I was thinking, hey, he’s violent and kills people, but so do all the characters in this game, they’re all terrible people: but Trevor was interested in men??? Then the more I played, the more I was hit with all the rape jokes... But, since I wasn’t expecting anything half decent, I would sheepishly be grateful that there was no actual rape. I mean, we obviously deserve to have higher expectations than that, but it’s GTA we’re talking about. The thing is, all the cat calling and verbal sexual harassment is mostly from Trevor, out of the three playable characters, and it was obvious that it was trying to cover up Trevor’s gayness with something that would speak to GTA’s vile average cis het gamer dude audience: rape jokes, violence and misogyny. See, Gamers? Trevor’s kinda gay, but it’s funny, because he’s just generally gross :)

So, just like Trevor is fantasy cr*zy, he is fantasy gay, where it’s a whole lgbt-phobic mess of what a cis het man imagines a gay/bi man to be. What really reinforced that feeling to me was adding up the “Trisha and Michelle” story and the spawn scene where he wakes up in the middle of nowhere wearing a dress. ((Now the dress thing in itself didn’t even have any lines or remarks: As much as it is obvious that it’s originating from a Man In A Dress transphobic joke, I’ll have to admit, there’s no actual joke happening, since he doesn’t comment on it nor does anyone else ingame. But it is still transphobic and homophobic when you take it in the context of Trevor’s terrible writing)). His identity is not discussed further, but all in all it feels as though the writers were like well, he’s Kinda Gay or whatever, (I don’t believe they’ve said the B word ingame) gay guys wear like, dresses, right?? And they’re sexual offenders??? I Mean As A Cis Het Man I Definitely Feel Offended By Gay Men Existing So This Must Be Right... So it manages to be transmisogynistic and homophobic at once

Again, this dichotomy compromises Trevor’s credibility as a character, again because Rockstar is pissing themselves at the idea of writing a well rounded character because what if people think we’re Gay

But here’s the thing!!. This very problem, GTAV’s terrible fear of seeming Gay, resonates throughout the main character arc between Trevor and Michael (I don’t think I even have to explain this to fandom: Literally everyone read Trevor and Michael as having some glaring romantic tension) and makes both characters skirt around their sexuality and personnal conflict in numerous no homo jokes. And that’s... where Rockstar’s Gay Panic backfired.

II) Michael, or how GTAV’s Gay Panic played itself and turned the video game into a metaphor for the consequences of repressed homosexuality, or The Trevor End

A little search showed me it’s widely accepted in the GTAV fandom that the Trevor End (End C) is the canon end but if you haven’t heard, here’s why quickly:

-Everyone Lives End has several plotholes and didn’t resolve all conflicts -Trevor’s death resolves most conflicts -Franklin killing Michael is widely out of character, and if you don’t do anything, Michael literally just trips and falls. It’s not a gratifying or meaningful end. -The events featuring Trevor in GTAV Online happen before the game, making it possible for Trevor to be dead. -Generally, everyone felt that the final conversation between Franklin and Michael in the Trevor end resonated most than other ends.

So, Michael and Trevor originally were written to mirror each other. And they do in many ways: Trevor does everything openly, is sincere, and he is shameless. Michael, throughout the game, is ashamed of Trevor, is ashamed of most things in his life, and tries to do things discreetly, when he isn’t overcome with rage/emotion. That is when he hates himself the most: when he’s pushed to be open about things. And it’s almost funny how caricatural it is that Michael is afraid of Trevor’s qu**rness: how he drops their partnership for the perfect nuclear family, the big house on the hills, the skinny white blonde wife, two kids and tennis on the weekends. How utterly miserable he is living that life! Until Trevor finds him again, and he’s so torn and angry about how Trevor makes him feel alive again.

God, it’s right there. It’s so obvious it’d be funny if it wasn’t frustrating and sad and making me write 3K about it.

Xav de Matos of Joystiq found [...] "though each character has a valid motivation for his journey, it's difficult to want them to succeed." He also felt that the ambivalence between Trevor and Michael was a tired device by the conclusion of the story as it became a "seemingly endless cycle" of conflict between them.

Another popular review, and evidence of another dichotomy in the writing. It’s not made truly clear what Michael’s conflict with Trevor really is, which is what should be driving the end of the story, but ends up just being blurry and confusing in the two other ends. The “seemingly endless cycle” comment is what fascinates me here. Because it’s actually something that, for me, makes the Trevor end so spectacular at how it blindly hit the mark and remarkably played itself. Yes, the Michael/Trevor narrative must be very confusing for Xav de Matos. And honestly, I’m still really confused myself as to what Rockstar thought they were writing, if not a tragic gay romance.

I’ve considered that Michael grows tired of Trevor pulling him back into crime and wants to end the conflict but it does not add up: Michael was a criminal before meeting Trevor, so he’s not the bad influence here! But there is definitely the feeling of an “endless cycle”.

I truly have no other explanation: The overall aversion to gayness starts to become a pattern, and their entire character arc strikes like one big metaphore for repressed homosexuality on Michael’s part. He says that he’s almost afraid of Trevor, but the only times he seems to be having fun is when he’s with Trevor. He pushes him away constantly, and it all culminate to the Trevor end.

The whole scene is awfully dramatic. First, it’s by chance that Michael survives crashing into Trevor at full speed like that: you clearly see and hear him speed up. It seems like a deliberate choice and adds to the drama of the scene. It’s very desperate and self destructive. As Franklin, you’re given the choice to kill Trevor. But it is out of character, since a few seconds prior, he doesn’t have the courage to shoot Trevor, he definitely has sympathy for him, lets him go and tells him they can talk it out. Eventually, Michael takes the shot (not shooting Trevor directly) and sets him on FIRE. Talk about intense. His death is very violent and dramatic. Franklin is shocked that Michael would kill his “best friend” and that starts the final conversation. Michael’s speech is erratic, he’s panting, screaming, but he says two things that struck with me.

“I’m a bad piece of work, but that guy?”

“No boundaries. No sense of... when to back off. No Nothing! 24/7 insanity ”

These two lines spoke to me. As a gay man, growing up-- and though I know my experience of it is slightly different than cis men’s- I’ve had to deal with internalized homophobia. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say pushing away behaviour that seems too “extravagant”, too “qu**er” is a frequent sign of internalized homophobia: Trying to feel like somehow you’re better than The Other Gays. Or otherwise, when completely denying one’s homosexuality, pushing away other gay people to try to feel “normal”. “No boundaries/ No sense of when to back off” is his explanation to why he kills Trevor: He was got too close to him, and Michael couldn’t deal with those feelings.  That, especially in the world of GTA, like I explained earlier... added to it how both these men grew up in an especially violent environment, how they’ve both normalized murder in their lives. It all makes sense suddenly to culminate there? Michael ends the cycle, the only way he knows how to.

And it made me sad. One, because I knew that Rockstar would laugh in my face for interpreting their terrible game as anything meaningful to a gay person, and two because of, still, how much it hit home, and how that is a reality. Growing up hearing my brother saying he would beat up his friend if he had a crush on him, growing up hearing of stories of men actually killing other men rather than face their feelings. I was upset to think about how this game, filled with so many bad intentions, a game that probably hates me, still made me feel something like this.

And it’s like, sometimes I feel like writers forget that we exist, but we’re still there in the back of their minds, unknowingly? It’s like no matter how much they don’t want us to be there, we still exist.

Every ending in GTAV has a different song. The song for the Trevor End was specifically written for the game and for this end by Yeasayer. And I feel like the band understood the game better than the writers. You can give it a listen here and read the lyrics, which I feel, if you’ve managed to read all of this to the end, you won’t have trouble understanding. It’s pretty transparent.

Thanks for reading my thoughts on this terrible game!! I probably missed things, I didn’t backread much and didn’t make sense sometimes but I guess I had a lot on my mind. Hope you appreciated and didn’t feel like you wasted 20 minutes of your day.

#ziyed speaks #long text #long post

[gildedalchemist]

1 - 100

Well then! I actually have some downtime so im doing this. Post was from a while ago but i saved it for when I have time. I’m not gonna answer a number of these fully bc thats TOO much sharing, but I’ll answer as many as i can.

1. What is you middle name?not answering this one

2. How old are you?24

3. When is your birthday?August 25th

4. What is your zodiac sign?Virgo

5. What is your favorite color?Royal Purple, though I like many shades of lighter purples nowadays

6. What’s your lucky number?Yup, 2. If not 2, then 8.

7. Do you have any pets?I have a family dog at home, hes a labradoodle named Sebastian

8. Where are you from?Southern California

9. How tall are you?I like to think I’m 6 feet tall, but im just short of that I think

10. What shoe size are you?11 US Mens, which i think is 14 in womens? I forget the conversion, and it’s damn near impossible to find anything in my size in that department.

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?enough that I’ve lost count

12. What was your last dream about?hanging out with @the-senor-sperm​, Xavier

13. What talents do you have?I don’t believe in talent. Nobody starts good at anything, it’s all skills that must be trained and maintained.

14. Are you psychic in any way?I have very good gut reactions when I first meet people, generally. It has almost never steered me wrong, especially when it comes to my personal safety. If someone is not to be trusted, I generally know pretty quickly.

15. Favorite song?I’m not sure right now, I’ve been introduced to a lot of new music in the last year and I have a hard time choosing.

16. Favorite movie?Clue!

17. Who would be your ideal partner?Someone who challenges me to be the person I want to be. Someone I can trust with my thoughts and feelings. Someone I can spend my time with and be okay when all else is crumbling. Someone I love. Someone who would sit up with me while I’m deliriously I’ll, and make sure I’m drinking water, and eating, particularly microwave cup ramen. ;P

18. Do you want children?I dunno. I used to. I used to feel like I wanted to prove I could be a better parent, but I don’t feel that need, nor do I want that to be my reason anymore. I just want to live and be happy with my partner. Whatever happens after that, will be decided when the time comes.

19. Do you want a church wedding?Oof. I dunno. The thought is nice but I don’t know if the church would be cool with the wedding I’d wanna have ówò;;;  

20. Are you religious?Not really at the moment. I want to believe in something, but that something has no form for me right now.

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?Yes, I’ve even had surgery! (on my sinuses, im fine now!)

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?Not really

23. Have you ever met any celebrities?Nope, unless you count internet celebrities, which I dont really. I met Arin Hanson before I knew who he even was.

24. Baths or showers?Showers

25. What color socks are you wearing?white

26. Have you ever been famous?lmao nope

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?No, i don’t like that kind of pressure

28. What type of music do you like?little bit of everything, though i do quite like electronic stuff

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?nope, but if i ever have my own pool and could do so without peeking neighbors, i’d consider it.

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?2 usually, but i only have 1 right now because reasons

31. What position do you usually sleep in?either on my side if the bed is real soft, or on my stomach.

32. How big is your house?its pretty decently sized, but I’m living in a dorm right now and not at my parents house

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?nothing

34. Have you ever fired a gun?Yes. I wasnt a fan. I didnt like how easy it is to just point and kill, and i especially hate that people think having that power is a right that should be protected like it is.

35. Have you ever tried archery?yes i have. I enjoyed it from a skill aspect

36. Favorite clean word?spaghetti. its real fun to say

37. Favorite swear word?i like saying chucklefuck

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?about 40 hours. I’ve never done 2 consecutive all nighters. at that point, i start to pass out when i blink.

39. Do you have any scars?Yes, I have one on my shoulder and lower back from the same injury, one on my knee and shin from unrelated incidents, and scars on my hands, face, and shoulders from injuries and acne over the years

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?If I did, they kept it a pretty good secret. Or not. I am quite oblivious in that regard. Its hard when you just assumed for years that youre unloveable.

41. Are you a good liar?I used to be but not much anymore

42. Are you a good judge of character?Almost always

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?Nope, it is embarassing for me to even try

44. Do you have a strong accent?people say they dont notice an accent from me until i say certain words, like dude, or awesome.

45. What is your favorite accent?New Zealand accents are a hoot

46. What is your personality type?Timid, but caring

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?honestly not sure. most of my stuff isnt that expensive. by original cost probably a cashmere sweater, but I bought it at a thrift shop. 

48. Can you curl your tongue?yes

49. Are you an innie or an outie?innie

50. Left or right handed?right

51. Are you scared of spiders?somewhat, but I dont react as badly as I used to at the sight of them. only if they touch me.

52. Favorite food?spaghetti? pizza? Xaviers cooking? hard to say

53. Favorite foreign food?sushi!

54. Are you a clean or messy person?clean in many ways, except for my room

55. Most used phrased?“aww, gay.”

56. Most used word?at this point, probably “fuck”

57. How long does it take for you to get ready?if im in a hurry, minutes, if im not, hours.

58. Do you have much of an ego?I can, but i’m working on it. I dont think I do though.

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?Bite

60. Do you talk to yourself?Usually, mostly to walk myself through things

61. Do you sing to yourself?Rarely

62. Are you a good singer?I think i’m better than i used to be, but im not great

63. Biggest Fear?Losing my best friends. I lost one in a very bad way, I cant stand the thought of losing more.

64. Are you a gossip?Once i got to university I became one, but I didnt used to be. Thats just kinda the environment I’m in. I feel like if i didnt people wouldnt trust me as much or even at all.

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?i dunno, im not sure what constitutes “dramatic”

66. Do you like long or short hair?on me, Long. I cant stand how ive looked with short hair anymore. On other people I have no preference.

67. Can you name all 50 states of America?Fuck no lmao

68. Favorite school subject?Chemistry, after that Psych or English

69. Extrovert or Introvert?Extrovert with anxiety that makes me present like an introvert, i think is what ive settled on

70. Have you ever been scuba diving?nope

71. What makes you nervous?So many things oh my god

72. Are you scared of the dark?Yes

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?I do for some people but it is seen as inappropriate to others, and in some cases makes people think im trying to be superior, so I try not to anymore unless asked. Its not my place, unless they want to be corrected.

74. Are you ticklish?Don’t fuckin touch me. I am but I’ll bite.

75. Have you ever started a rumor?No. I had too many false rumors started about me, I wouldnt do that to someone else unless it was true and people needed to know the truth.

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?Sort of? I’ve been in classrooms and worked with kids, so i’ve been in situations where they answer to me, but I’ve never really been the main figure head so I’d say no overall.

77. Have you ever drank underage?yes

78. Have you ever done drugs?yes

79. Who was your first real crush?Honestly? I dont even know anymore. I know I had some, but what counts as “real”? I’d guess the one that lead to my first relationship. that was in 2011.

80. How many piercings do you have?none

81. Can you roll your Rs?“nope

82. How fast can you type?pretty fast

83. How fast can you run?I can run pretty fast but only for short bursts now.

84. What color is your hair?brown

85. What color is your eyes?blue-green

86. What are you allergic to?a variety of weeds, trees, grasses, molds, and dust mites

87. Do you keep a journal?not physically. what i post online and in recordable formats count as my journal, so i may look back on what ive said.

88. What do your parents do?my mom is a housewife, my dad works in law

89. Do you like your age?y...yes?? what does this even mean?

90. What makes you angry?injustice and unfairness

91. Do you like your own name?Not my full name, I like my first name’s shortening, so thats why i go by Matt

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?Only John. To honor his memory, and all that he did for me. He set me on the path to become who I am.

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?I want my kid to decide that for themself, if I ever have one.

94. What are you strengths?Tenacity

95. What are your weaknesses?Cowardice

96. How did you get your name?My dad named me after his best friend first, then his karate instructor for middle

97. Were your ancestors royalty?not to my knowledge

98. Do you have any scars?wasnt this #39?

99. Color of your bedspread?light blue

100. Color of your room?the one at home is sort of yellowish i think. the room i’m in right now is white.

#asks #long post #personal #Anonymous