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razorblade180 · 1 day

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9 days of Lancaster Day 9: Firsts

Ruby:(Don’t over complicate this. Don’t do it. Just relax… relax…)

Jaune:Uh Rubes?

Ruby:Y-Yes!?

Jaune:Are you gonna hit retry or…

She turns her head and notices they’re on they’re on the ranking screen. When did the match end!? Ruby finally hits continue. Jaune can’t help but chuckle a little as he leans back against Blake’s bed.

Ruby:What’s so funny?

Jaune:You seem a little lost in thought. Thinking of a way of outplaying me?

Ruby:I introduced you to this game. I know your skills.

Jaune:And yet I out rank you.

Ruby:Because you’re such a try hard! I’ve been busy on missions.

Jaune:Yeah that’s fair. It’s nice that you finally have time off. I would’ve thought your team would be knocked out for days. I was little shocked when you said you planned an all day video game date.

Ruby:I begged a little. Also called in a few favors. Weiss just needed a nice place to sleep, Blake is flexible and I became a pouty little sister for Yang.

Jaune:Qualities of a true leader.

Ruby:Shut up! I’m just happy you didn’t procrastinate on any assignments.

Jaune:Pyrrha said she’d add Nora to my training if I did.

Ruby:Yeah that would get me moving too. Soooo you’re really free ?

Jaune:Yep, I’m all yours for the day. Any game you need a partner in, I’ll help you see credits.

Ruby:…And if we get tired of games?

Jaune:We got movies. There’s a couple good ones that came while you were away. Or ones you’ll force me to watch.

Ruby:Stop acting like you don’t like horror.

Jaune:It really isn’t an act. But you planned all this and who am I to not appreciate that.

Ruby:So you’re done for anything?

Jaune:Yep!

Ruby:*red* Even…oh I don’t know, sleeping together?

Jaune’s hands stopped pressing buttons and Ruby managed to send him to the loser screen. It wasn’t intentional but a small boost of confidence as she turned her head right to see him looking at her with a flushed red face.

Ruby:Don’t make it weird!

Jaune:Me!? What!? You just- context please! Was that a ploy to win!?

Ruby:I’m not that petty! Look I just…. *plays with hair* thought maybe we should discuss that idea. We’ve been together for almost five months and it’s been really great! It’s felt a little weird though that you never seemed to make a move or bring up “that”

Jaune: Do I really give off that sorta vibe? I had no idea.

Ruby:I’m not saying you do, but between how you used to try flirting with Weiss and our casual conversations, it didn’t feel like you weren’t into more intimate things. Ugh, I really don’t know what I’m saying at this point! I guess a part of me felt a little confused and worried if you weren’t interested in me in that way at all.

Jaune:Oh I have had thoughts, but i know how to keep them to myself.

Ruby:….

Jaune:*blushing* That’s normal and decent behavior! Why, are you interested?

Ruby:Of course! I organized I room date to give you the opportunity to-

Saying it aloud made it sound way more embarrassing and forward than Ruby meant for it to be. And pulled her hood over her head and huffed in defeat as she stared down at her lap.

Jaune:….Does your team know about this?

Ruby:Blake does. She said her bed is fair game. Those are actually my sheets right now. As far as Yang is concerned, I asked for privacy so we can have our first kiss.

Jaune:We’ve made out a bunch of times.

Ruby:I’m very sneaky when I want to be. Look, I get this is a lot I’m dropping on you and we don’t have to do anything today. I just…really wanted to know where I stand with you and to let you know that…I’m okay with going further with you. *crimson* I really like you. A lot.

Jaune:…This question may sound a little dumb all things considering, but I have to hear it. I get that you’re okay with it, but do you want to have sex with me? As in your are looking forward to it?

Ruby:…Very much, yeah.

Jaune:….Hold on just one moment.

He took her scroll and walked out of the room. Ruby wanted to scream until she passed out. Why did she start this conversation!? Was it too forward!? They were having such a good time before this moment. Why did he leave!?

So many thoughts bombarded her brain and they didn’t stop when she heard the door unlock again. Her scroll flew into her lap so she knew it was him. Seconds later, a box of condoms fell into her lap. Her brain took a moment to process what she was looking at then her head immediately jerked up to see Jaune bright red and also avoiding her gaze.

Jaune: Nora may have helped me find female ones too, as well as emergency pills.

Ruby:Ah, I see. How proactive. Well…*twiddles fingers* Weiss may have helped me find a pay for some quality meds awhile go.

Jaune:Huh, imagine that.

Ruby:Yeeeep. Jaune, can you look at me?

Jaune:*makes eye contact*

Ruby:Soooo are we…still playing video games right now?

Jaune:…..

xxxxxx

Blake:*eating noodles*

Yang:You think the date is going well?

Weiss:Yes. *eating cake*

Yang:Really think she’ll go for a kiss?

Blake:Ruby can dive into a Nevermore’s mouth. She’ll find the willpower to kiss a boy.

Yang:….Maybe I should call t-

Weiss:Yang, as a younger sister myself, I appreciate my older sister. However, if she interrupted me on a date with a call or coming home early, I’m going to be mad for a very long time. Eat your burger and relax. Ruby will be fine.

Yang: I know, ugh! It’s like I’m antsy for her. Gods, if I’m like this now then I don’t know if I can handle her asking about sex.

Blake and Weiss:Don’t worry about that now.

#rwby #ruby rose #jaune arc #weiss schnee #9 days of lancaster #9 days of lancaster 2024 #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #rwby lancaster

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olderthannetfic · 1 day

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https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/751445319499317248/httpsolderthannetfictumblrcompost75113540651

She did not "basically write fanfic about Unit 731", and that's exactly the weird sort of game of telephone that led to her being relentlessly harassed by people who had not even read the book (there were claims that it was set in WWII, because the 'Unit 731 fanfic' lie was spread so far that people only heard that and decided to jump on the bandwagon) and decided she deserved to be publicly eviscerated for it.

From what the author has actually said about her inspirations for the book, she started writing it years before she found out that the ghost stories she was told as a child by her grandfather (who lived through the occupation) were about a real, specific atrocity, rather than just broadly about colonization--which makes sense considering the only part that seems directly inspired by Unit 731 is revealed near the end of the book and is the major twist that ultimately carves the scales from the MCs eyes with respect to the enemy prince in question.

Also, she didn't 'whitewash' the Japanese, and that kind of claim is really galling because would it actually have been better if she'd based the Evil Empire on Japan instead? Would that really have gotten people off her back? (And in fact I can very easily understand why someone whose family lived through such a brutal occupation would want to get some distance in a story that is partially processing those feelings and experiences by not modeling the Evil Empire directly after the country that brutalized her own; especially since a significant portion of the story involves the main character having very complicated feelings for the prince of the Evil Empire.)

If you want to talk about the writing not being great or your belief that the author didn't achieve what she set out to, that's fine, although I gather from this ask that you haven't actually read the book, which is at minimum a prerequisite to talk with authority about how any given topic or plot point is or isn't handled. I, personally, think it's incredibly tone-deaf to police how someone else writes about their own cultural heritage and family history with oppression and colonization, and that is very much how so much of this criticism comes across, especially considering how much of it is from people who fully admit to not at the least reading the book to form their own opinions about it. And for some reason, this form of criticism seems to be aimed disproportionately at authors of color, who are given much less grace and freedom to be just kinda mid or handle things poorly than white authors.

(Just as an example, I've never seen anyone call Avatar: the Last Airbender 'basically CCP fanfic' even though the fantasy prison where political dissidents/troublemakers are tossed to be tortured/brainwashed into compliance in Ba Sing Se is literally named Lake Laogai, after the Chinese political prisons/labor camps.)

Yeah, that last part is the crux of it, isn't it? People need a little room to work on their craft. More marginalized creators, indie creators, and people working on media with smaller audiences are afforded less. White dudes making TV shows are afforded a whole lot. Seems like it would be fairer the other way around!

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olenvasynyt · 2 days

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I have always been uncomfortable with the SF scene where Cassian takes Nesta on the hike, but I didn't fully understand why until my most recent reread. And it is one of the reasons why I am anti-Nessian.

This is a summary of my tiktok video, feel free to check it out, and follow me over there as well if ya want.

So this hike was right after Nesta lashes out and tells Feyre that the baby was going to kill her during the birth, and this was because of her frustration and hate towards Rhys and the IC and how she has been treated.

Chapter 46 of ACOSF: “Is it respect that she offers you?” Nesta spat. “Is it respect that your mate offers you?” Feyre went still. … “What do you mean?” “Have any of them told you, their respected High Lady, that the babe in your womb will kill you?” “…I do know that your mate ordered everyone not to inform you about the truth. Did you all vote on that too? Did you talk to her, judger her, and deem her unworthy of the truth?”

It broke something in Nesta—broke that rage, that roaring—seeing those tears begin to fall, the fear crumbling Feyre’s paint-smeared face. She had gone too far. She..oh, gods.

But as Feyre and Cassian both point out, she saw the parallels between Feyre’s situation and her own, and decided to avenge both of them. Rhys and Amren were hiding the truth about Nesta’s powers, she knew that a lot of them did not trust her to know the truth about her own body.

Chapter 47 of ACOSF: I think she saw the parallels between your situations, and, in her own way, decided to avenge both of you. That’s my feeling too. Rhys disagrees.

I think Feyre’s situation was much more serious than Nesta’s powers being kept from her, but that is also why it was good for Feyre to find out the truth even if the situation was upsetting.

Cassian was like oh "I’m sorry you found out the baby could kill you" and Feyre was like "I’m not. I’m mad at you guys for not telling me. Nesta was the only one brave enough to."

Chapter 47 of ACOSF: “I’m sorry you had to learn of it.” “I’m not. I’m furious with all of you, I understand why you didn’t tell me, but I’m furious. Well, we’re furious with Nesta. She had the courage to tell me the truth. She told the truth to hurt you. Perhaps. But she was the only one who said anything. — I wish you’d found out a different way. Well, I didn’t. But we’ll face it together. All of us. — I want you to come back home. Both of you.

I love how Feyre, who is the one was the victim in this moment, was like “I’m not sorry this was how I learned about the baby but I’m glad someone told me. Rhys overreacted, I calmed him down and I want both of you home.”

Rhys overreacted. He completely and utterly overreacted. — Rhys had no right to chase you from the city, or threaten Nesta. He has realized that, and apologized. I want you to come back home. Both of you.

Now kind of going off topic with Rhys threatening to kill Nesta: people get mad at Cassian for not standing up for his mate. And I can understand that, I also think that’s frustrating and Cassian not standing up for Nesta is something we see often, including the Ember and Randall bonus chapter in HOFAS. But it can be complicated because a lot of people will defend Cassian like this: Rhys is high lord and it will be very hard to stand up to him as someone who’s not on his level, so of course Cassian couldn’t do anything to defend his mate in this situation. And yes this is true, and we see a very similar situation between a High Lord and their superior with Tamlin and Lucien in ACOMAF. Lucien tried to stand up for Feyre but couldn’t, and was shut down and abused.

But if people are going to use this idea to defend Cassian, that he couldn’t stand up and fight his high lord, we have to make this comparison between Rhys to Tamlin. And a lot of pro-Rhys people don't like that conversation.

But anyways, this argument cannot be applied to this hiking situation at all, because Feyre mindspeaks with Cassian and says that Rhys overreacted, she isn’t mad at Nesta, all of those things I talked about before. Feyre says that she wants both of them home but Cassian still brings Nesta to a hike and says he’ll call it a punishment to sort of appease Rhys because he knows Rhys is still mad about the situation. “Tell Rhys it’s a punishment.” Rhys was not the victim in this situation, Feyre was, and she was like fuck Rhys! He was wrong for overreacting! Nesta was braver than you guys and I want her home.

Where did you even head off to? The wilderness. I think we’ll stay out here for a few days. We’re going on a hike. Nesta has never been on a hike in her life. I guarantee she will hate it. Then tell Rhys this is her punishment. Because Rhys, despite apologizing for his threats, would still be furious. Tell him that Nesta and I are going to hike, and she’s going to hate it, but she comes home when I decide she’s ready to come home.

But Cassian still brings Nesta on the hike.

And he was definitely doing it for Nesta and to help her work out her thoughts and not solely because of Rhys, but this hike is a terrible way to help a suicidal person work out their thoughts.

This hike pisses me off so much. The way the IC decided to “rehabilitate” Nesta in general pisses me off. I liken Nesta’s “rehab” to those therapy wilderness camps where people get kidnapped and brought to the middle of the mountains for. Those rehab camps revolve around forcing people to get to their lowest to rehabilitate, to acknowledge their mistakes, and it is a horrible, abusive system and very often results in resentment at best and death at worst. And I think Nesta being locked up was the same thing and this hike is the same thing. One of the several things those rehab boot camps do is force their patients to go on strenuous hikes for multiple days, and when it’s beyond their physical capacity. It can lead to exhaustion, dehydration, injury, and death.

And one of my least favorite things in this entire book is that when Cassian realizes that Nesta is suicidal, he continues the hike up the rocky cliffs of the Illyrian Steppes with barely any food and even less talk. He doesn’t look at her or speak to her in days.

It is to force Nesta to get to her lowest moment so she’ll break down. Exactly like what happens during those rehab camps. It is forcing her into this breakdown in an unsafe place with no professional help.

Cassian knew that Nesta often hated herself. But he’d never known she hated herself enough to want to…not exist anymore. He’d seen her expression when he mentioned the threat of falling. And he knew going back to Velaris wouldn’t save her from that look. He couldn’t save her from that look, either. Only Nesta could save herself from that feeling.

When I read SF for the first time I was so weirded out by this hike and I couldn’t figure out why. I do not find these chapters moving or inspiring, I thought they were toxic and sad and I still very much do. And if I’m going to be honest I felt like I was also being manipulated into getting emotional like how Nesta was.

And this is where I’m going to get into my criticisms for SJM.

I don’t know if she realizes this comparison between Nesta’s rehabilitation in general and the boot camps and just, bad, toxic therapy in general. I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt because I think a lot of Silver Flames is about how the Valkyries helped heal Nesta and SJM and their hike during the Blood Rite was so much more inspiring at least for me and was definitely the climax and resolution to Nesta’s healing journey. SJM illudes to the IC’s biases very often in SF and I thought she was making Nesta’s rehab toxic on purpose, but the reason why I struggle with giving SJM the benefit of the doubt is because she said in an interview that that hike Cassian took Nesta on was inspired by a hike she and her husband went on during a vacation.

I also hate how she adds the idea that the mountains are healing, and there is a voice telling Cassian to keep pushing Nesta forward, “just one more mountain”. Like no. This again adds to the comparison of the fucking bootcamps because that is also a tactic they use.

Chapter 48 of ACOSF: The peaks weren’t as brutal and sharp as those in Illyria, but there was a presence to them that he couldn’t quite explain. Mor had once told him that long ago, these lands had been used for healing. Perhaps that was why he’d come. Some instinct had remembered the healing, felt this land’s slumbering heart, and decided to bring Nesta here.

This is fantasy, of course, so I am fine with this element of a higher presence that is healing to the characters who are struggling. And there is the symbolic element of climbing your mountain. But I need people to stop saying that this is a realistic way to treat people with actual problems in the real world, not only with this hike but also with all of the rehabilitation the IC made her do by locking her up. I might make a whole other video on that but if Nesta was in the House of Wind because she was addicted to alcohol and fucking strangers and spending money, this is not the professional way to go about it.

I like a lot of parts during this final breakdown where they talk about forgiving yourself, leaving the past behind. But I did not like the journey they made Nesta take to get to this point. Nesta could have very well had this breakdown not on this hike.

And this part ends with Cassian comforting Nesta.

“I’ll be with you every step of the way,” he whispered into her palm. “Just don’t lock me out. You want to walk in silence for a week, I’m fine with that. So long as you talk to me at the end of it.”

Like I appreciate this sentiment.

But, another thing that annoys me is Cassian’s conclusion after this scene

Chapter 50 of ACOSF: “She’d been suffering, and he’d had no idea how much it consumed every facet of her life. He’d seen her self-loathing and anger—but hadn’t realized how much she’d been aware of it. To know she’d hurt this much, for so long.

First of all, how would Nesta not know she was aware of her self-loathing and anger? She had actively talked about it before this moment??? She fucking has. And how did Cassian not know that she had been hurting this much for long long? I thought he was her mate who understood her? He talked about her traumas before in ACOWAR. Plus, I thought she was being rehabilitated. Helping her get not addicted to alcohol and spending money and having sex?

There is such a lack of awareness when it comes to the IC and this situation and I get frustrated when readers don’t understand it. People say that Nesta’s rehab was very serious and complex but no. It wasn’t. It is a terrible way to help anyone.

I think Nesta and Cassian still have to work on a lot to be an actual healthy relationship. And we saw the issues they still have in the Randall and Ember bonus chapter so I am very curious to see how SJM resolves their issues in future books, if she does so at all.

#anti inner circle #anti nessian #pro nesta #pro nesta archeron #nesta archeron deserves better #anti ic #anti sjm #sjm critical

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inkdragonworks · 16 hours

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June Update

Breaking the chain of not updating to talk about what I've been working on. As the absence of Poppin & Jupa here can tell, I switched projects back in April, to an older one I worked on for about 8 months in 2022. Main reason was feeling dejected a bit after the animation didn't do as well as I was expecting; been getting the impression that Tiera is more popular than them with folks lol.

Again I won't be cancelling it, or never working on PnJ, just switching focus so I can stay productive and make something that feels fun for me, which this has.

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As a refresher, here's the game I've been picking at:

The game's current design can be broken down into:

intro sequence to introduce Tiera and the setting

initial puzzle + encounter to introduce the main mechanics

large hub in the form of Fragaria Park where you avoid the main threat, collect items, interact with side attractions, and access the 4 side areas

4 side areas, which have their own puzzles/challenges within with a primary goal at the end that progresses you towards the final escape

optional collectibles Since April I've worked on a part of the large hub, 3 of the 4 side areas, and the optional collectibles.

"Who works on optional stuff before the main game is done" well they play off of the main mechanics but mainly it's an excuse to draw something cute instead of programming.

These are Anna Banana and The Fruit Friends (Also Strawberry), characters from a cartoon show that Tiera likes (Except Strawberry).

They don't play any significant role/impact in the game (Besides Strawberry), but they reveal part of Tiera's interests, they form a small bit of the world's background, they make for fun type of collectible that gives something to do besides the main puzzles, and, again, I just felt like drawing cute shit.

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For the hub, I worked on a themed side area dedicated to a playground. This does have puzzle elements in it, but a lot of it are silly interactions, and a reference to that cartoon I did a while back. Maybe you can recognize it here.

It's one of those "makes the setting feel more realized/fleshed out" deals.

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For the side areas, what I've mainly been doing is settling on their exact design, blocking out the areas, and working on their puzzle sequence, obstacles, and any single screens that are tied to it.

Here's what I mean by "single screen":

Something that cuts away from the main game to it's own puzzle. This one here is for the performance theater. All graphics are placeholders just to get the logic in and see if it might work.

Making these type of puzzles is fun cause it reminds me the most of Resident Evil 1 and various flash adventure games I've played.

As for obstacles, a significant one I'm playing with for the theater is darkness, making use of Tiera's sonar to detect a safe path around deep pits.

She won't fall off right away, but it's tied to the same stamina system.

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Another side area are the sewers, everyone's favorite video game setting. That obviously involves water, but the trickiest thing about it has been dealing with really complicated patterns of depth changing.

What that means is Tiera climbing up and falling down a lot, and trying to keep track of that. Here's what that looks like without proper graphics:

I'm very happy with how the area is turning out so far though, it's something you'd get to later and I think the puzzles do a good job of reflecting that progression.

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The last side area I've poked at was the final sequence of the game. I've had a lot of different ideas of how to go about it but I think I'm happy with the set of them I have planned, something that builds up towards the climax and building off of what was set up in the rest of the game.

I wanna be careful about spoiling it, but here's one effect from it I've started work on:

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I'm trying not to overshare here, though there's a lot more I've thrown into my server that I couldn't here. One of the side areas I haven't gotten to really pinning down is the Hedge Maze. I have a basic outline, but the main obstacle involved requires more dynamic logic. It's hard to settle on what that logic should be without set level design, and it's hard to settle on level design without knowing the limitations of that logic.

It's a similar issue with the main challenge of the game, both for the player and for designing: the ghosts.

What's intimidating is the feeling that they need to be very deliberate in this type of game, to balance between adding tension without veering into frustration. I'm hoping tackling everything surrounding them will make me more confident, but odds are I'll have to start with something simple and half-broken just to break the ice. And accepting I'll have to make something that gets thrown away, which I'm not used to doing... I really prefer thinking through stuff first before making it.

Anyway, thank you for reading.

#my stuff #monthly updates #tiera #escape from fragaria park #strawberry #indie game #game dev #dev blog #game development

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figsnpassionfruits · 13 hours

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Paint Away, My Little Dove - Chapter 8

A/N: wohoo this was rly fun to write holy shit. this is also my first smut ever so yay! this is also the longest chapter i have done yet so it should make up for the long wait <33 word count: 4.4k tags: arthur morgan x fem!reader, fluff, age gap, smut, creampie, kinda cockwarming but nor rly?, tiny bit of angst dividers by: @strangergraphics-archive pictures are from pinterest

It had been a few days before Arthur joined you in Strawberry. Even though you were used to spending time alone; it felt off this time. The last time you had been together was right after a robbery of a trolley station in Saint Denis went wrong. What caused you all the worry was the fact that saying goodbye was left with not the usual fuzzy and warm feeling in your chest, but more of an unrest.

But now, it felt okay again.

You were nested in the big bed in your rented room, leaning against Arthurs bicep as you rubbed your feet on his toned quads. His thick fingers were lingering on your skin, travelling from one spot to another every once in a while. The sound of the rain hitting the windows filled the air with comfort. It had been cloudy and rainy for a few days now, mimicking your state of mind.

“Dutch wants t’get back at Bronte for trickin’ us.” He mumbled; eyes set on the stained ceiling.

You sighed. This could have been avoided easily by just not believing that man. Who in their right mind would trust Angelo Bronte out of all people? “You think that’s smart?”

“Nah.” Arthur chuckled. “If there’s a reason to get back at that son of a bitch, it ain’t the robbery. Now ain’t the time anyway. Dutch’s just been blinded by money ‘n revenge.”

“You could use me as bait.”

Arthur sat up slightly, looking at you like you were a ghost. “Are ya insane, woman?” He questioned, eyes widening at the thought of putting you in such a dangerous situation. It would have been considerable if you had been one of the women at camp, who were used to being exposed to robberies and dangerous positions. But you; you were an artist. Even if you had been in life-or-death situations before, for Arthur, there was no need to put you in another.

You rested your hands on his chest, feeling the hairs on the skin prickling your palms, attempting to calm him down. “Arthur. He said he wanted me dead or alive. I don’t know what he will do to you if you don’t do as he says.” You explained, caressing an arm of his, tilting your head, trying to get him to hold eye contact with you again. “He’s got a lot of men behind him.”

“That I ain’t worried about.” Arthur took your hands into a single of his, holding them firmly by your wrists. “Darlin’, the camp doesn’t know about ya. I don’t want yerself to get involved into their plans. Not now at least. Things are too foggy.”

The rain had gotten stronger now, hitting the windows with more force than before, creating a thudding sound each time. Things were ought to get more complicated from now on. It had seemed like the air around you got a bit chillier, urging you to wrap the blanket you were sitting on now around your shoulders.

“Would it be so bad to let your camp know about me?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart.”

……………………………………………..

The fine line between autumn and winter could create the most unpredictable weathers. What was pouring down from the sky a few days prior in masses, was now flowing peacefully on the banks. The brisk air caused the hairs on your body to rise, yet the moderate warmth of the sun demanded them to stay down.

“Not far anymore.” You mumbled, readjusting the grip on your reins as you steered your two horses, careful to not harm the wagon in the process of crossing the river.

Arthur was in front of you, taking the lead to see where it was safe for the hooves to step on. Once on dry ground again, he took out a cigarette from his pocket, igniting it and took a long inhale. Especially for him the past few days have been stressful. From Dutch’s behavior to Bronte’s games to keeping you safe. The poor man could get no rest.

As you two approached the town, the familiar character of Valentine filled your senses. The smell of the sheep and cattle entered your nose while the sound of the people talking filled your ears.

“Ya remember when ya wanted t’sell me somethin’ here?” Arthur smirked, getting off his horse and walking over to you. He offered you his hand to offer you additional support to step down from your wagon.

In response, you rolled your eyes playfully, smiling as you did so. You took his hand, feeling his secure grip on your smaller one as you stepped down, nodding at him once as a small ‘thank you’ gesture. “I’ll get the horses to the stable. They could all use a little luxury. Could you go and get us a room?”

“Yes, mam.” Arthur tipped his hat, walking off to the direction of the hotel, gladly following your order.

After disappearing from your vision, you strutted over to the front of your horses, gripping the reins of Arthurs as well, as you lead all three towards the stables. The sun had not been strong enough to dry out the ground just yet, causing your boots to turn muddier with each step you took.

“Miss Y/N!” The stableman greeted you, cheering at your presence.

“Hey, there.” You smiled, slowing your pace as you walked through the big wooden doors.

“Got quite a collection there. Instead of two, I am now seein’ three.” He joked, taking the reins from your hand, removing your horses from the wagon, and putting them into the boxes they were used to stay in. After being done with storing them, he took the reins of Arthurs Shire, looking at you with a hint of confusion expressed on his face. “What about this fella?”

“Just give him the usual package as well. He belongs to a friend of mine.”

The brunette man nodded, patting the black coated horse on the snout. “Handsome boy.”

You placed your hand on the neck of the tall horse, giving it a few pets. “Good as well.”

“You sellin’ anything while here this time?”

You pouted, taking a breath in through your nose, your eyes glued to the horse still. “Wasn’t planned. I usually send letters to the sheriff prior to make sure it’s fine with him.”

“Well, if you change your mind- go have a talk with him. He’s got a liking to you. That man won’t say no.”

Mumbling a quiet ‘thanks’, you left the stables, making your way to the infamous hotel. The locals were usually the friendliest to you here in Valentine. While passing, people greeted you with a smile or a small wave. They were used to you setting up a stand anytime you were in this town, adoring your paintings whenever they saw it.

After walking up the steps to the upper floor of the hotel, you turned to your right, moving to the room number the manager at the front deck gave you. With quiet knocks you alerted the older man inside, who opened the door not too long after, greeting you with a small smile.

“Horses are taken care of.” You remarked, taking off your shoes and coat before throwing yourself down on the soft texture of the mattress. With the relaxation of your body came the torment of your mind. Now all there was to do was to think. Think about what to say; think about what to change and think about what to do. “What will you do to Bronte?” You asked, breaking the silence.

Arthur peeked up from the table he was standing by, stopping the action of writing into his diary for a brief second. “Don’t know, sweetheart. Dutch keeps talkin’ about money. They want to get Bronte out the way to rob somethin’ bigger. Somethin’ that’s worth all the shootin’.”

“And then what?”

“Camp wants to get away. Dutch is talkin’ about some place called Tahiti. But I just don’t know any more what I want.”

Hearing those words were painful. After all this time, it seemed like his camp was still what was the most important thing to him. If they all left after getting the money they needed; he would follow. You were not present in those plans. How could you be? Arthur had refused to let you meet them for the longest time now. It was not like he was in the wrong. Yet, it still hurt. No matter what would happen he would be with his camp. And you? You were insignificant.

Noticing your silence, Arthur let out a sigh before putting down his diary. He slowly walked over to the bedframe, letting the weight of him drop down to the mattress. After still not looking up at him, he took a finger to place it underneath your chin, guiding your face up to create eye contact. “What is it that ya want, dove?”

“I want a lot.”

“Tell me then.”

“It’s stupid.”

“It can’t be.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you moved your frame to the middle of the bed, creating space for him to sit on.

Arthur placed a hand now on the side of your head, gently pressing down on it to make you lay your head on his shoulder.

“I want a farm.” You started. “And a gallery, made out of glass, just for my paintings.”

“That so?” Arthur smiled, placing a kiss on your temple.

You hummed to confirm your statement, playing with your fingers, being a little embarrassed after saying your wishes out loud.

“And where exactly would those things be?” Arthur questioned, taking a hand of yours to stop you from fidgeting with them. He had recognized your nervousness. Now again, the age gap made itself be present. You had dreams and a goal in life. For him, that was already over. All he could do was be a servant to the ones who were still fighting. His loyalty was set on the gang. That did not mean that he would simply abandon you for them. Yet, he was torn. Life had given him too many things to balance. It was on him to decide what to throw out of the equation to move things forward.

“Big Valley, maybe? I always tend to go there.”

“Big Valley, huh?”

“Yea, why?”

Arthur let out a chuckle before answering. “That’s the place we first met.”

“Oh.” You giggled. Another silence occurred, forcing the both of you to wrestle with your thoughts again. There was a certain tension in the room; as if things were left unspoken. You had so much to ask him: ‘What about me? What about us? When will you leave? What will I do once you do?’ But where were you supposed to start? Collecting your courage to confront him, you sat up, leaning your body weight on the hand that was propped up on him, earning you a puzzled look from Arthur. “Arthur, I- what are we doing here?”

“What?”

“What is this? We’re always together. We hug and cuddle but what are we doing?”

Arthur continued to stare at you, scanning his eyes all over your face, unable to read your emotions as you questioned your relationship with him. “I-“

“I was hoping you wanted me the way I want you.” There it was. The confession you had bundled up in your chest for weeks. There was no turning back now. You had poured out your heart to him in a single sentence. All that was left for you to do now was to listen what we would say. By looking at him, you could see the wheels in his head turning. He was trying desperately to think before talking.

“I do want ya, sweetheart.” Arthur confessed, placing a hand on your arm, rubbing it affectionately. “It’s just-“ He closed his eyes for a brief moment, smacking his lips once before continuing. “What could a pretty little thin’ like you get out of an old man like me?”

“Arthur, no.” You moaned, moving your body closer to his to place your palm on his brunette beard. “Why would I care about you being older than me?” You knew about the concerns Arthur had about the two of you from his diary entries. Yet this was the first time he confessed it to you verbally. “Arthur you’re the sweetest and kindest man I have ever laid my eyes on. When you asked me before what I want- I wanted to say ‘you’. I wanted to say ‘us’.” You roamed your hands all over his saddened face now, placing a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, making him look at you. “I want us to happen, Arthur. I wanna be yours.” As your voice got quieter but needier, you moved his arm away from his torso, gathering your courage to sit on his lap, your hands still placed near his face. “Please.” You begged, starting to slowly move your hips on his groin. “Call me yours.”

Arthur clenched his jaw at your words, slamming his eyes shut for a second before giving into your devotion. He places his rough hands on your face, pulling you down to him to slam his lips onto yours.

His harsh handling alone made you moan into the kiss, moving your lips to the rhythm of his. It did not take too long for the both of you to roam each other’s mouths with your tongues, the act getting more frantic as the milliseconds passed.

Arthur placed his hands onto your rear, squeezing it tightly and pulling you closer to him to release the tension that had now formed in his tight black pants. He sat up fully, moving his hands now to grasp your hips, flipping you over onto your back. For a second, he broke the kiss, looking into your eyes, scanning you for any hesitation. Not finding any, he dived back into the kiss, causing your heart to beat faster and faster in anticipation.

“Arthur…” You whimpered against his lips, thrusting your lower body in an attempt to get more friction to your heat.

“I know, darlin’.” He whispered, moving his hands down your body, the calloused skin feeling like rocks against your soft frame.

Being displeased about the fact that you were both fully clothed, you took matters into your own hands, leaning on your elbows to pull Arthur shirt over his head after you undid the first few upper buttons.

After mirroring the same action, Arthur slid his hand to your now exposed neck, sucking on skin next to it. He opted to slide his other down to your pants, bringing you closer by gripping the thin fabric, pressing your naked chests closer.

“Take off your clothes.” You managed to whisper in between hungry kisses.

A quiet chuckle rumbled through his chest before he obligated to your request, pulling down his pants propping himself on one arm that was placed next to head on the mattress.

While he was occupied with his, you took off your own, leading to the both of you exposing all of your skin. Placing your hands back on his neck, you pulled him down to you, your lips not being able to get enough of his.

Unhurried, Arthur slithered his hand down your stomach, moving it closer to your cunt. Once there, he cupped it gently, making you moan quietly as you thrusted your hip against it.

“Easy, sweetheart.” He grumbled, the feeling of his hand on your heat sucking the air from your chest.

Your lips brushed against the shell of his ear as he started to move his head down, a shaky groan rolling through his chest as a response.

Setting his hands on the back of your knees, Arthur flipped your legs up, moving an arm of his to hold them up with a single limb. The fresh air hit your warm cunt, causing you to bite your lip at not only the feeling but also on the sight in front of you. “Please.” You begged, tilting your head at the man who was keeping you in place.

The pecks he delivered to your inner thighs travelled closer and closer to where you wanted him, his eyes on you like a predator stalking his prey. He had never heard sounds as pretty as the ones you were giving him, begging to be touched. A thick finger of his swiped through your wet folds, wanting to hear your melodies again. “You’re already soaked for me, dove.” He rasped before putting his face closer to you, his beard tickling your delicate skin. It did not take his tongue long to find your bundle of joy, flicking it continuously, making you close your eyes and lean your head back into the cushions.

“God, Arthur.” You moaned, your voice getting higher from the way your nerves were getting tickled by the sensation.

“Ya taste so good.” He murmured, crawling back up to you to engulf you in another heated kiss, demanding you to taste yourself on his tongue. Arthur began to sink his middle finger into you, deepening the kiss for only a split second before he propped himself back up, staring into your eyes to make sure it felt okay. “This alright, sweetheart?”

You nodded, letting out small gasps in a pathetic attempt to respond to him.

Arthur cooed at you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead as you squirmed. “Don’t gotta talk. That nod’s good enough. Lemme take care of ya.” His voice got lower and lower with each word, the lust in his body taking over. The finger inside you was curled now, pulling small moans from you. For him, the sounds you were making came straight from heaven. Why did the two of you refuse this for so long?

“I need you inside me.” You cried softly, moving your hips faster against his hand.

“Easy, now.” Arthur rebuked, pulling his hand out of you, causing you to let out a whine. “Ya wanna take me already?”

Giving yourself a small moment to think about his question, you shook your head, making Arthur tilt his head. “I wanna taste you as well.” You demanded, pushing his body off you to put yourself on all fours.

Arthur was now on his knees, allowing you to take control for the meantime. His already hard cock was in front you, throbbing and asking to be touched in any way. As you put a hand on his dick, Arthurs hands travelled to your hair, holding it back and out of your face to allow himself to have no blockage of the view. With eyes set on his blue ones, you licked a trail from his base to his tip, causing Arthur to let out a low moan as he leaned his head back. After all the years of torment and stress his body has been going through, this was needed; badly.

You wrapped your lips around his cock, focusing on the tip when you swirled your tongue as you bopped your head. Your hand was travelling along on his cock, making sure to stroke what you were not able to fit into your mouth.

“You’re a pretty little thing, ain’t ya? Good girl.” Arthur cussed, the breath in his voice hitching as you kept sucking him off.

As a reply you hummed around him, Arthur whimpering at the sound of it.

“Just lemme-“ Arthur noted, placing a hand on the back of your neck while the other found his way below your chin. “Keep yer mouth open for me, darlin’, alright?”

You looked up at him, nodding once to let him know whatever was coming was okay for you. You noticed the hesitation in him. Arthur required your approval for every single thing he wished to do. The poor man had been through so much in his life. This was a way for you to let him release it all. If anyone deserved it, it was Arthur.

With your permission, he started to thrust into your mouth, the action creating vulgar sounds that filled the hotel room.

“Got the prettiest little throat.” Arthur groaned, saying the words in between the fast thrusts he was doing. He licked his lips once before moderately slowing them down, only to push your head further into him, letting go of you once you gagged. A trail of spit remained glued from his cock to your lips when you pulled back, his eyes darkening with craving at the sight of it.

After collecting your breath, you looked up at the man from your hands and knees, flashing a big smile and biting your bottom lip.

“Ya really like this, don’t cha?”

You hummed in approval, a hand of yours pumping his cock, refusing to leave it without any attention. “Now, I want you inside of me.”

As a reply, Arthur flipped you onto your back again, one single hand holding both of your legs up by the back of your knees. He first placed a thumb on your clit, skillfully rubbing a figure eight against the sensitive patch.

The eye contact you both remained could turn anyone primal. Sucking air in between your teeth, you moaned his name, needy to feel his cock in you.

Once he removed his hand from your heat, Arthur soaked in the view from your wet folds, this angle allowing him to take in each pore.

In protest from the lack of touch, you slid your own hand down your body, rubbing yourself with three fingers.

Instead of fighting for the control, Arthur simply watched your hand, enjoying the sight of your delicate fingers rubbing against your glistening body. “No art of yers is gonna be able to touch the beauty of this.”

You giggled at his words, your heartbeat speeding up as he propped himself up, licking his own hand for some lubrication to rub it on his tip before pumping his shaft a few times. Once he contacted your skin, he rubbed himself against your soaked cunt. As he sank himself slowly into you, you hissed at the feeling of being stretched out by the man you were in love with. To get him closer to you, you put a hand on the back of his neck, forcing him to lean his forehead against yours as he disappeared in you, inch by inch, letting out a long and low groan as he did.

“Atta girl,” He breathed out, the large hand he had placed on your legs now gripping tighter onto the thin skin there. “Takin’ me so good already.”

“You feel so good.” You moaned out, pupils wide and mouth hanging open at the filling feeling of him inside you. Your pulse was now at its high, your heart feeling like it could burst out of your chest.

Arthur placed several light kisses on your legs, hip hips now slowly going back and forth, watching his cock get more soaked with each time he pulled back of you. After a while of repeating this, he struggled with holding himself back from gaining speed, asking you if it was alright for him to take things faster. With a nod and still the deep stare into his eyes, he began to pick up pace to a more relentless one, pumping his cock into you, setting a pace that was rough, yet not animalistic.

The pressure in your abdomen continued to boil, the speed of his thrusts being exactly what you needed. The desperation in your moans and whines built themselves up, your legs squirming more and more, causing Arthur to grip your body painfully now to keep himself steady and to not crush your frame with his weight.

A hand that Arthur previously had on your breasts, moved down to your clit once more, rubbing the spot gently, yet rapid.

Your thighs began to shake, a hand of your own now shutting your own mouth, trying to keep yourself quiet from the amount of pleasure Arthur was giving to you.

“You’re okay.” Arthur groaned, a hint of desperation behind his voice, nipping at the skin on your calves as you continued to shake.

Loud cries escaped your mouth as his thumb rubbed the circles faster and faster. With a whine of his name your walls clenched around his cock, tightly wrapping it.

To allow you to come down from your high, Arthur stopped his thrusts, letting go of your legs to lean down to kiss your closed eyelids which were fluttering. “Ya alright?” He asked, doing his best to keep his movements as minimal as possible while being buried deep in you.

You nodded, smiling at him. “Want you to come inside me.”

Arthur smirked at you, moving his body in a way that allowed you to spread your legs only for you to wrap them around his core. The feeling of your legs tight against him caused him to go back to his relentless speed in a matter of seconds, eliminating the quiet moment you just had, filling the air again with the sound of skins slapping and your frantic cries.

“W-want you to fill me up.” You managed to say in between your euphoria, and that was all that Arthur needed to convince him.

With a couple more bruising thrusts he buried himself to a halt, emptying himself in hot intervals into you, groaning loudly. Arthur lazily leaned his forehead to yours, smiling at you with his eyes closed. “Jesus.”

“Not quite.” You giggled, making him roll his eyes at your comment. When he tried to remove himself, you shut your legs tighter around him, silently asking him to stay buried in you for only a little bit longer.

Arthur wrapped his arms around you, puling you closer to him, lingering kisses all over your face.

You brushed your nose against his when he travelled his lips from one side to another, forcing a bigger smile from him.

- 🍯

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #paint away #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x you

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milquetoast27 · 2 days

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Subtext in The Creeping Man

I find that this story of Arthur Conan Doyle's Holmes canon features some of the most complex subtext we've had aside from A Study in Scarlet. But rather than being complex early-on because of our lack of knowledge of the characters, it is rather complicated by the fact that we both know too much and too little of their relationship. This story, with astonishing subtlety, conveys the cooperative relationship between Doyle's two characters — the nuance in their limits and strains, but also the joys that they work to reach, together. It emblemises the beauty of the Canon, where it all ties back to the joy and complexity of human understanding and belonging.

This story opens in "those latter days" (1903, near to Holmes's retirement) where Watson describes their relations as "peculiar". The word certainly feels like a euphemism from the ever-polite Dr. Watson, when it is soon made clear that their relations were far from amenable. Watson has become one of Holmes's "concentrated habits", and apparently is as good as a piece of funiture, as all of Holmes's remarks would have been as "appropriately addressed to his bedstead." It's given through snapped sentences; "I was a whetstone for his mind. I stimulated him. He liked to think aloud in my presence." This "irritation" and discordance between them is extremely concentrated in the early pages of this story, but drags through it, as well. Take, for example, the "laconic" (or perhaps iconic?) message:

"COME AT ONCE IF CONVENIENT — IF INCONVENIENT COME ALL THE SAME. S.H."

Watson gives us the original of Holmes's telegram to demonstrate to his readers just how "long-suffering" he is. A true exhaustion is apparent in how he simply shows the telegram, rather than politely referring to it. Compare this with the unendingly civil telegram sent to Watson in The Boscombe Valley Mystery, and you can see the great shift that has taken place in their alliance.

"HAVE YOU A COUPLE OF DAYS TO SPARE? HAVE JUST BEEN WIRED FOR FROM THE WEST OF ENGLAND IN CONNECTION WITH BOSCOMBE VALLEY TRAGEDY. SHALL BE GLAD IF YOU WILL COME WITH ME. AIR AND SCENERY PERFECT. LEAVE PADDINGTON BY THE 11.15."

While long-term and intimate relationships will remove need for over-courtesey, there are two very different reasons for why Doyle has shown both of these telegrams at a point in time. This accumulation of Holmes's ungrateful behaviour not only imparts Watson's utter despondancy, but also, importantly, Holmes’s — and this is something that Watson's ever-perceptive and intelligent heart does not fail to miss. It is important to note that this story nears Holmes's retirement, where he acknowledges that he has been "sluggish in mind". There is no doubt, then, that the great detective is out of his prime. Hence the temperementalness, taking his Watson for granted, and a heavier reliance on those "narrow and concentrated habits."

Despite the turbulent roads of their life, we see Watson's undying devotion co-exist with it. Past all the irritation, Watson closes, "Such was my humble role in our alliance." It is more than clear that he consciously makes the decision to remain at Holmes's side, to be his ally. Such has always been Watson's role in their alliance. His "humble" service extends to his practice as doctor and soldier. His pride is in his duty to others, and to Holmes as his assistant.

There is something that shines through Holmes's unsocial behaviour when we look closely at the text.

I sank back in my chair in some disappointment. Was it for so trivial a question as this that I had been summoned from my work? Holmes glanced across at me. "The same old Watson!" said he. "You never learn that the gravest issues may depend upon the smallest things."

We know from the Canon (opening of DANC and RESI) that Watson's emotions are like an open book to Holmes. This 'sinking in some disappointment' is not missed by Holmes's 'glance'. "The same old Watson!" he says, and I feel it important to note that he compliments one of Watson's most distinguishing features; his stability and fixture — the "one fixed point in a changing age." Yet, we may miss these details, because Holmes, ever in his own insecurity, must back-hand every praise with a teasing chide. We could say that an attempt was made to cheer Watson up, though not very successful.

Developments continue, as Holmes tryingly says "I had hoped to have a longer chat with you", then parades him with compliments before their client, "Dr. Watson is the very soul of discretion". But mixed indications continue to come as he flips back to patronising language; "You will appreciate it, Watson, when"—. Doyle further cements Holmes's particular unbecoming behaviour on this day as he further also annoys their client, who speaks in a "tone of reproach" when Holmes does not listen, and is "clearly annoyed" at irrelevant interruptions — to which, Holmes only smiles in, what I believe, is pure self-importance.

Here we find a shift — a greater effort on Holmes's part, a second round of appreciation for Watson's stability, even when his opinion is faulty. "Good, Watson! You always keep us flat-footed on the ground". He's then included in his bubble; "We were gradually coming to that conclusion, were we not, Watson?", and even a sordid attempt at bringing Watson with him on the bait of the Chequers in 'Camford' where "the port used to be above mediocrity and the linen was above reproach." (Which he follows up on!)

And, despite these attempts, their connection still does not rekindle. Watson is clearly irritated still with the inconsiderate easiness with which Holmes was able to leave London, leaving only difficulty on Watson's end to join him. It's an indicator from Doyle that nothing's remedied, yet.

Here is an interesting passage for study.

"Have you the effrontery necessary to put it through?" "We can but try." "Excellent, Watson! Compound of the Busy Bee and Excelsior. We can but try — the motto of the firm."

Burstive praise from Holmes at the merest utterance of a phrase — a phrase which has only ever been used one other time in the Canon; the previous story, The Problem of Thor Bridge. This suggests it may be some small motto of Holmes's, though one not often seen in Watson's records — this makes his use of the phrase a very Holmesian approach. This participation, no doubt, is nothing but a delight for Holmes, who is trying to restring their relationship, and continues to overenthusiastically affirm Watson's sturdiness.

Yet it's made clear that superficial praises are not a true apology, as we see signs yet again of Watson's dispassion. As they sit to their meeting with Professor Presbury, Watson writes:

Mr. Holmes smiled amiably.

This sentence may seem unassuming, but be assured it is one of the coldest in the Canon. This usage of "Mr. Holmes" is entirely unique within the Canon. In other times, when Watson has used "Mr. Holmes" or "Mr. Sherlock Holmes", it has been when speaking directly to his readers, since they would be using the honourific. This moment is the only exception, where Watson has intentionally used "Mr." to create distance and convey undesire for intimacy with Holmes (rather than any professional effect). Why has Watson used the line here? Well, Holmes is 'smiling amiably' — in a way that forces a friendly manner, one that attempts to create a good impression with Professor Presbury — which also didn't work out, by the way. Considering all the superficial means up to now employed by Holmes on his companion, Watson no doubt feels cheapened and no more important than Holmes's investigative objects; as if his trust is just as easy to gain as anyone else's, with nothing but an 'amiable smile'.

We are shown time and again that Watson isn't pleased with Holmes's desultory attempts at reconciliation, until finally, a shift happens. One that is not identifiable in the text, and so is reasonable to assume happened unpenned. We find Holmes acknowledging that "Dr. Watson has his patients to attend to", when before this information seemed completely irrelevant to him. Holmes even sent Watson a "short note asking [him] to meet at the train"! The greatest change is when we finally have Watson using "my friend" and "my comrade" for the first time in this story. Now we see Watson taking real excitement in the case, in the "assurance of [his] comrade". Self-teasing also makes its way into their dialogue as Holmes cries "Oh, Watson, Watson, what a fool I have been!" The emphasised address seems to suggest an apology for something more. It's as if he cries 'Look how wrong I have been Watson, how imperfect and daft I can be!' It's adorable, really.

All semblances of reproach towards Holmes disappear as they steal together in darkness, come to the dénoument of their adventure, as Holmes philosophises on science and nature, and described admiringly as "the man of action". Our story ends in a light-hearted resolution, as always.

"There is an early train to town, Watson, but I think we shall just have time for a cup of tea at the Chequers before we catch it."

To conclude, this story presents so much so subtly in its pages; a reflection of the small, nuanced and unseen processes between human beings, but those which we must be attentive to in order to find fuller understanding between each other. Yet, there is still much uncertainty in my inferences; which also shows the uncertainty of lanugage and communication. We simply must be clear of ourselves, as we can only assume Holmes and Watson were, off-page, for them to have found that resolution, rather than fleeting smiles and compliments. Arthur Conan Doyle, with this story, further cements the triumph of bonds and connection, perhaps far more than any other of his stories.

#acd canon #sherlockian scholarship #sherlock holmes #acd holmes #classic literature #literature analysis #victorian husbands #fun fact I bummed out the LFW server with the “Mr. Holmes smiled amiably” line #was worried this was too long but I think all of this is necessary for my point #CREE is so underrated! I think it's brilliant for this reason #I don't actually care for the mystery. it's shit #the real mystery is whether Holmes and Watson actually made up while in Camford or not #ACD how are you so insanely good at subtext. you put so many treasures in the text for me to find and puzzle over. i love you #hashtag the indomitable human spirit #I could have also commented on some way more suggestive lines but they didn't feel relevant to this analysis #it doesn't actually matter if they're fucking or not sorry guys

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bloodgulchblog · 14 hours

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Nobody asked me, right, but I am gonna post about it anyway:

Romance with Chief is interesting to me because for it to happen would require a huge shift in the character's perspective.

It's easy to see why other characters could love him. John-117 is a big wonderful idiot who is constantly giving of himself to protect others. He's deeply unselfish. He's steady and calm and not aggressive or shouty. There is a lot to like about John.

The thing is that John would have to feel the same way about someone, and as he is right now he can't. He has too many problems going on, and most of all he has this foundational belief that his own personal wants mean nothing. I don't think he could genuinely tease out whether he feels something for someone because it's all just moot to him. John is a weapon used to defend humanity, and for him to want anything else for himself would be selfish in a way he is completely uninterested in exploring.

He also has a lot of rational barriers: Bringing someone into his life would be dangerous for them due to who and what he is, and it would be unfair to another person to make promises to them that he knows he cannot keep. We know how serious John is about his word when he gives it! If he did care about someone that much, he would be able to look at it clear-eyed and say "this person is better off with someone else who can be more to them than I can."

Therefore, looking at all of that, a situation where John does manage to feel something and act on it has to be a story where he's confronting all of the things that are fucked up about himself and his life. It would have to be a story about some kind of recovery for him, which is a huge (and interesting!) project. And romance itself isn't even the most critical part of John asserting any kind of desire to steer his own life, far from it, it's just... it's fun to have another character really really care about him when he's so very bad at caring about himself. It's messy and difficult. It would be easier and possibly better for him not to do that but complicated things are fun to play with.

A story where Chief does all of this is diametrically opposed to what the character needs to be to keep carrying FPS campaign stories. It can't be canonical. Given how incredibly poorly the TV show handled the idea of "Master Chief realized he's a person and wants things in life and what if he had a LOVE INTEREST" I absolutely do not trust Halo to do it.

But it's a big idea hole you can swim in if you want to. As a nerd with free time to burn.

#master chief

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teecupangel · 2 days

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The assassin's including haytham and Shay as witches or warlocks?

Considering how I wrote about Desmond as his ancestors’ patron god a while back, I like the idea of making Altaïr, Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton warlocks under an unknown patron god.

This is doubly funny for Altaïr who actually believes that what people consider as gods are simply beings more powerful than them that can be surpassed once their full capability is studied.

So Altaïr would actually be more a wizard, using knowledge to further his magical research, with a healthy dose of alchemy at the side. (He would also be the one to further advance the development of magical forgery but his way is intricately connected to alchemy since magical forgery regularly need materials created via alchemy, making it easier to augment magical properties into the materials itself that will remain during the forging process).

Then he got the Apple and learned that he now has a Patron God.

He is absolutely not happy about this, especially as his Patron God is only known as “The Reader”. He grows fond of his patron though because his patron never demanded anything but kept giving him whatever he needed to further his research.

The Reader becomes well known as Altaïr’s patron god but no one knows his real identity.

The only time the Reader demanded something from Altaïr was when an eagle made of gold and white light (his patron’s preferred way to send him things) left him a rolled up piece of paper that could fit in his palm.

‘Investigate Abbas Sofian and deliver judgment.’

Ezio, on the other hand, never thought of becoming a warlock or a witch. The Auditores weren’t magic users. They weren’t even combatants. The most they had was the required swordsmanship for their own safety and defense.

And then…

They tried to arrest his family and…

He heard it.

A sound he could not describe. A sound he had never heard before.

An eagle made of light appeared before him and delivered him a box.

A change of clothes that was more durable than his current outfit. A sword with wings for a crossguard and an eagle head for a pommel. Some kind of gauntlet with a blade hidden on its underside.

And a letter.

From his patron.

The Reader.

It was thanks to his patron that he was able to save his family and that they were able to leave Firenze without being ambushed, the light of the eagle becoming their guide.

The Reader was known as Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad’s patron. An unknown god who was as capricious as Altaïr himself, only appearing at whim and acting more like a distant supporter than an actual deity demanding loyalty and worship.

But it was during Ezio Auditore’s time that the Reader became a patron god of the Brotherhood. The unknown god did not bless everyone. Only Ezio. But that was enough. Because Ezio worship him as both his god and his family’s savior. As Ezio became more legendary as time passes by, so too did his patron god.

The Reader.

The Patron God of Freewill and Choice.

The Kenways were complicated (as usual).

Edward Kenway was a swashbuckling rogue, there was no denying that.

He had always been a rogue and, as far as he knows, he will always be a rogue.

Even when he started getting in the middle of this Brotherhood versus Order mess, he was still a rogue.

And then…

When he died, he saw the golden eagle.

Just watching.

It was always watching.

And all Edward could think about was how he needed to save Jenny and make sure Haytham and Tessa were safe.

Haytham still becomes a Templar. He studies witchcraft and developed his skills to combat the stealthiness of the Assassins and any and every magical devices and spells they may have.

His witchcraft is one focused on canceling other magic. His main weapon is still the sword and the hidden blade he took off from one of the people he killed.

Ratonhnhaké:ton is born to be a warrior. His grandmother taught him a few spells and rituals here and there. A few concoction to strengthen and heal his body.

One day, he saw an eagle made of light and followed it.

His village burned that day.

But he was able to save his mother.

But his mother was captured by the men who burned his village and he tried to follow them until his legs gave out.

The eagle appeared before him once more and guide him.

To Achilles Davenport.

Ratonhnhaké:ton’s patron was the Reader. His eagle appeared with gifts and short letters of suggestions. Achilles calls him bless.

Ratonhnhaké:ton thinks of the Reader as someone with an agenda of his own.

Every time Ratonhnhaké:ton feels the desire to go out in the world to find his mother, the Reader would send him a letter that always says the same thing. It’s not yet time. You must grow stronger still. Patience.

And Ratonhnhaké:ton realized why when he first met Haytham Kenway and his many magical devices and potions to keep Assassins away.

The only thing that can combat him and take down Haytham’s Order was…

The blessings that his patron god had given him that he had nurtured all these years.

Shay was trained to be an Assassin. It was only when he studied under Haytham Kenway that he learned witchcraft. Shay had never really been interested in it. When he was still an Assassins, Hope had been the one to always push him into trying out witchcraft. Even giving him potions to heal him or to invigorate him. Which was funny because Hope was ‘hopeless’ in the arts of being a witch. Liam was the best witch in the Brotherhood and Hope’s potions had been made by Liam.

Liam had fun telling Shay about that.

When Shay became a Templar, he learned witchcraft because it was the best way to counter the Brotherhood.

Then he got his familiar.

It was a wolfhound with light gray fur.

Liam had a wolfhound familiar as well.

It looked exactly like Liam’s familiar. But that was impossible. Shay had been the one to throw the potion that burned Liam’s familiar to ashes.

Arno only knew a bit of witchcraft. Ones that Élise taught him. It’s only when he started training to be an Assassin that he learned he was taught the very same witchcraft that Haytham Kenway developed and modified to combat the Brotherhood. That Élise was teaching him the ways of the Templars. He makes it his own though and used what he knows to combat the Templars’ own witchcraft.

By this point, the Brotherhood makes use of both witchcraft and spells. Traditionalists focus on spells that are said to have been used by those blessed by the patron god. They’re not warlocks though since they were not graced by the patronage of their god. They’re more akin to wizards.

Arno, himself, combines both and learns a bit of alchemy to make his own tools which is a requirement to all Assassins since they would never always have the money or be safe enough to buy more tools out in the field.

Jacob and Evie are… complicated. Jacob was trained to be an Assassin so he’s like Evie, knowing both witchcraft and a few spells. He also doesn’t use them, pretending to be just a rogue as a way to get back to their dead father. People actually assume he’s like an Arcane Trickster or something similar. Evie, on the other hand, is a master of both. She prefers spells though. The pressed flowers she gives Jayadeep in canon? She used them to create potions for him instead that will help him. He never uses them though because he sees them as too precious to be used.

Ah, Desmond.

So…

Desmond knows a lot about witchcraft and spells but he has no patron of his own.

They actually thought he would be blessed by the same patron as Altaïr and Ezio but that god never even looked at him.

But he has access to the spells only a warlock has.

People believe it’s because of the Bleeding Effect.

But Desmond knows that’s not true.

The patron god of his ancestors never looked at him but his Bleeds were too… real. There was something divine about them.

Something that tells him that he has made a pact with them that goes beyond life and death.

Bayek and Aya have been warlocks before they founded the Brotherhood but their patron god had not been Amun at first. They both renounced their god after Kemu’s death and Amun took them in. Amun, however, is not the patron god of the Hidden Ones. The Hidden Ones though would sometimes have patrons because, during that time, the gods were much more fascinated by humans (or have plans). This would continue on until the Hidden Ones become the Brotherhood and the Brotherhood (especially the one under Al Mualim) would rather be Rogues than be spellcasters.

Basim knows a bit of witchcraft because of Nehal but he only started actually training for witchcraft and spells when he got to Alamut. It’s there that he shows he actually has access to the spells granted to him by a patron god but it’s not one of the gods that usually bless the Brotherhood. He only realizes it later on when he receives Loki’s memories but the spells he can use are the very same spells that his wife, Sigyn, uses. He never acknowledged it though and his patron never contacts him.

When he reunites with Aletheia though, his patron god gives her very first order.

“Destroy what remains of the woman you love”

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klausbens · 2 days

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the fact of the matter is that blitzø expresses things through sex that he doesn't really know how to express any other way because he is emotionally constipated and there are so many things he cannot say and more still that he doesn't know how/want to discern in order to express.

so, i feel like not being able to have sex with stolas for a while really did impact him heavily. and the fact that stolas—without meaning to, of course, and for his own reasons that i will not unpack here—constantly downplays sex as something somehow inherently less meaningful than other expressions of love, devotion and trust probably fucks with his head a lot. sex is a way for blitzø to show stolas what he can't easily show otherwise, it's a way for him to freely express himself and his feelings safely (“so complicated, i hate when it's complicated, why do i always end up in situations that are complicated? here i go again, getting in my head, so i'll focus on the sexy stuff instead”), and even though part of him is acutely aware of its transactional aspects, i think subconsciously he cannot avoid infusing all sorts of stuff—implications, expectations, effort, care—in his liaisons with stolas in a way he hasn't done in the past. we know, for instance, that his performance in bed was lackluster as far as verosika is concerned, especially in terms of reciprocation.

when he says, “i don't understand. why are you giving me this? am i not, like, fucking you good enough? because i can always—i can always do better,” he doesn't even need to be saying it, stolas has just set him free, he's given him the crystal and explained its use to him, blitzø knows he's not out of a job and the transactional aspect of their sexual relationship has thus been erased, but he still has to ask if it was him, if it was about him not being good enough to and/or for stolas, if he didn't say enough, express enough, if it didn't work, if it didn't come through that he cares and how much. his tail is wagging, too. he is a stray waiting to be kicked without really understanding what he's done to deserve it. he doesn't want the crystal, he just wants the right to tell stolas he loves him in his own language.

#blitz buckzo #blitzo buckzo #helluva boss #stolitz #helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss meta

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sir-adamus · 2 days

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https://www.tumblr.com/sir-adamus/752028412918530048/so-much-of-the-hatred-rwby-gets-seems-to-be-rooted

I frankly think it's more because it's an initially amateur production that became far more successful than people ever expected it to be, or believed it ever deserved to be, and that grinds the gears of some people who fancy themselves as gatekeepers of what is and isn't "good" in the indie or mainstream area of media.

It's also frankly this thing that makes me scoff at times at the notion of Indie media becoming more valued and "accepted", because I think there is a giant caveat to all of it, fineprint in the contract so to speak. I noted this in a different anon comment I made in response to a different tumblr blog, but I'll repost it here:

People have just become downright cutthroat about indie media, and it feels like it stems from how the online space and fandoms tend to act A LOT like the corporations they despise, but from a mob mentality sort of way and without the systemic power of out of touch executives to back it up. They outwardly praise unique stories and ideas, but in reality are just as pro-conformity and pro-mass appeal and sanitization as the corporations they hate, and if you step out of line in some arcane or unclearly defined fashion that only exists in their minds, you can literally go from hero to hated in pretty much the flip of a switch. Mixed together with the increasingly puritanical way people treat media, like it's some kind of extension of their own morality and thus they have some inherent need or right to tear down anyone or anything they see as "problematic"...and yeah. It's honestly jarring as hell and really just reinforces how fickle and hypocritical the online space can be despite proclaiming to hate it when the corporations do it to them.

And that's what is really the rub about RWBY at times; it's something that looks like it's intended to "fit" into the shallow expectations of an anime made by amateurs, but ends up being a lot more complicated and requiring more nuance to actually get, and people just refuse to meet it on its own terms because they view themselves as the arbiters. The judge, jury and executioner.

Ironic really, given how much they've done everything in their power to constantly insist up and down about how much better and less behind the times they are compared to the "normies" and "establishment", and yet this attitude betrays how they're basically still the same at their core.

oh yeah

#rwb/y

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wombywoo · 3 days

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13 and 14 please for the beloved boys?

(.maybe we'll learn why Quinn's mom and aunt can't look him in the eyes 👀👀)

13) Does your OC have a good relationship with their parents or no?

A very complicated question, for both 🤌

As a kid, Quinn had a fairly normal relationship with his parents. He'd always found his dad a bit odd and lame, but he was very close with his mother. Then [redacted] things happened and that all changed 🙃 (nope, I'm not gonna reveal this stuff yet because reasons) but yeah--after that, his relationship became, ah...very strained. Currently, he's been trying and failing to reconnect with his father, but they don't really have much in common and it's all a bit awkward. His dad still tries to make an effort though. As for his mum--he hasn't spoken to her in years 🤐

Vincent had a similar bond with his mother. She was quite a reserved woman, and rarely spoke up in a public setting, but she was far more energetic and loving behind closed doors. Due to the prejudices of the time, they were often shunned or blatantly discriminated against (Vincent's own paternal grandparents refused to acknowledge either of their existences), so having such a close connection meant they could protect each other, in a way. Conversely, Vincent didn't have much of a relationship with his father. He was a cold, austere man, often too busy with work to be around. Vincent always assumed his father hated him, tbh, even though he made strides to put him in all the best schools and social circles, despite the obvious racism and intolerance of his contemporaries. He'd even been the one to pull strings and demand his enrollment into flight school, something that had been unprecedented for black people at the time. But in spite of all those sacrifices, they never bonded, or even spoke at all outside of forced propriety.

14) What about any siblings, do they have any and is their relationship good?

Quinn has a sister, Nora, who's older than him by a few years. They pretty much had a typical sibling dynamic in their youth--petty fighting, Quinn being a little shit, Nora trying to boss him around, etc. After 'certain incidents', she became far more protective of him. There was a lot of guilt there, and Nora felt like she failed him and will always blame herself for not protecting him. As adults, their relationship is a bit forced. Quinn had been distant for a few years, not making any attempt to be around his family, so they're almost strangers now. In recent years, Nora got married and now has a step-son. She's been trying to get Quinn to connect more, wanting him to open up to the kid, but it's been awkward and ineffective for the most part. I like to think that things will get better eventually...

#asks #quinncent #oh Vincent doesn't have any siblings btw #just him and his momma 🥺#yes I'm being vague about Quinn on purpose #there's a lot of heavy shit here that I need to sort out...

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sasakisniko · 15 days

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Romantic love and friendship love are not mutually exclusive and feeling one does not inherently cheapen or negate the other. There's a reason friends-to-lovers is such a popular ship type.

#discourse #i've seen this complaint all over in fandom and while i get the sentiment #i think that it's far more complicated than that #we all ship different ships for different reasons #and i think a lot of fandom is people making assumptions about people's interpretations and motivations #like i grew up on mulder and scully right?#now over the many seasons and movies #they've been platonic and romantic and all over the place tbh #but i think what a lot of people were drawn to was what started with friendship for them #the devotion to each other #the trust #the absolutely unhinged things they'd do to save each other #and yeah loving them as a ship and wanting to see them together didn't deny or cheapen or negate the friendship #it just became friendship and romantic for a lot of the shippers #idk if any of this makes any sense #and yeah i get the frustration of dealing with shippers #because i've been there too #i know how when you don't ship a thing romantically #it's impossible to interact with fandom and avoid the ship #like more than half of my dash ships a ship on a show i watch that i very much do not ship so i GET IT #but idk as a big believer in ship and let ship #idk maybe it's 'both and' not 'either or'#and we all know what they say about making assumptions...

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comradekatara · 1 year

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You've mentioned Zuko's "inability to kill" before, so could I ask you to elaborate on that?

sure. zuko is banished for, essentially, committing treason. he says to ozai that he was banished for "speaking out of turn," but simply speaking out of turn is not actually why ozai banished him. zuko said that people shoudn't have to die for the sake of further empowering the fire nation, and that goes against their nation's entire ethos. zuko lacks, as azula puts it, that "killer instinct that is just so fire nation."

while zuko does set fire to suki's village in his quest to capture aang, and you could argue that he may have committed other such acts offscreen, we never actually see him outright kill anyone. unlike zhao, who kills the moon, and azula, who kills aang in a manner that would have ended the entire avatar line had katara not revived him, zuko threatens and intimidates and harms, but when it comes down to it, he does not actually kill, because he simply cannot.

he threatens to kill zhao, and if he had killed zhao, no one in the audience would fault him for it. zuko does not even burn him upon winning their agni kai, going against custom; zhao calls him a coward for it. zhao tries to kill zuko on multiple occasions, including when he blows up zuko's entire ship. but, when the ocean spirit is dragging zhao under, zuko still extends his hand in a futile attempt to save zhao. contrast this scene with sokka arguing to leave zuko for dead in the same episode. he legitimately does not have a problem with letting zuko die, because, as he says, zuko would do the same thing to them (at least, sokka seems to think so).

sokka kills combustion man, toph kills yu and xin fu, and neither of them have any regrets. conversely, katara cannot kill yon rha, and aang cannot kill ozai. like sokka and toph, they are justified in killing these men, perhaps even more so (since yin and xin fu did not actually attempt to kill toph, "only" kidnap her), but they ultimately choose mercy. like zuko on kyoshi island, aang and katara's actions, such as blowing up the factory in jang hui, may have had indirect casualties (i don't count aang being merged with the ocean spirit because he was not truly in control), but they are never able to kill directly, because when faced with another human being, regardless of how much they may hate them, their pathos prevents them from delivering that killing blow.

zuko, as a foil to aang and katara and the deuteragonist of the narrative, is also someone whose instincts prevent him from being the cold-blooded killer his nation expects of him. it is why, unlike the rest of his family (including iroh), he is unable to produce lightning; he is too sensitive to become the perfect weapon his father wants him to be, which is why azula's reveal is so thrilling and terrifying to the audience, because she is what ozai wants in a protege, unlike zuko, who try as he might, fails at embodying the fire nation values of ruthlessness and power at any cost.

#some caveats before anyone misinterprets me:#1) zuko has still done awful things. i am not saying that he is 'inherently good' or that because he has 'good inside him' that makes it ok #just as i am not saying that azula is 'inherently evil' for having that killer instinct. morality is far more complicated than that #this isn't a 'zuko smol bean uwu' post. i'm just stating facts from the show #just because he never directly killed anyone and just because he was abused into believing he was doing the right thing #does not mean that he did not do bad things (burning suki's village being the most tangible harm we see him cause iirc)#he just cannot kill people directly which is crucial to understanding his character esp as he relates to aang and katara #2) i am not faulting sokka and toph for killing people! and anyone who thinks that i am saying that is a dumbass. ok bye #asks #zuzuthelord #analysis #zuko #not tagging everyone else

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mommyclaws · 5 months

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Opinions on Leopardstar? I haven't read leopardstar's Honor yet, not sure what happens there, but I've heard it's somewhat disappointing.

I was always somewhat angry that she never really mentioned Tigerstar after the whole Tigerclan thing, and we never really got to see how she felt about the whole thing, just that the people she sent to die really didn't like her.

A Shadow in Riverclan also kinda did the same thing where she gave a little pep talk and suddenly everything was ok for Feathertail, after she had horrible ptsd from Leopardstar

I want to like her but she's such a nothing character imo to actually have an opinion on because I think she was done pretty dirty, as Riverclan and her weren't really the focus of the series for so long

I consider myself a Leopardstar fan. I’ve been wanting to talking about my feelings/view on her for a while so i’ll put all my thoughts here!

The direction they took with her in canon is dissatisfying but she has alot of groundwork that gives her interesting potential. Her father is a medic- formerly warrior- who changed his position because he is against violence. She turns into everything Mudfur wanted to escape from. Too proud, itching for a battle, apathetic to the suffering of the other clans. And even if it was a let down, I can appreciate the authors at least tried to do more with her character than let her off the hook as easily as Blackfoot.

I like her mostly in comparison to my dislike for Blackstar's character. He teamed with Brokenstar and Tigerstar, committed murders and didn’t protest to the abuse of his own clan. He does nothing to atone and doesn't even seem particularly remorseful but he's still rewarded by being made leader. Leopardstar was already in power when she made the decisions that cost cats their lives. Cats trusted her to protect them and her neglect threw them into savagery and death. Standing by to allow kits and her own deputy be slaughtered is GRUESOME. I read her as someone blinded by ambition, just another product of the code. She misjudged then got in over her head with Tigerclan and was willing to toss others aside to save her own tail. Maybe she truly is remorseful, but it doesn't change what she did. Nothing can.

Crookedstar's leadership was very relaxed and she considered him weak. He gave up land to Shadowclan, he could never keep Sunningrocks, he allowed Thunderclan to take refugee on multiple occasions, and all of the half clan cats he accepts are seemingly only because they're his kin. She had thoughts of making Riverclan powerful and feared once he was out of the picture, it's why she completely disregarded his dying wishes- She couldn't bring herself to respect him.

The politics of Riverclan change drastically with her nine lives. Closed borders and no tolerance for Thunderclan, not even Graystripe, who only wanted to be with his kits. Riverclan is strong. But it could be stronger, couldn't it? She and Tigerclaw served as deputies together, even if he was the enemy, she thought well of him. He is a fierce and respected Thunderclan warrior. Or so he was. While she initially thought it a red flag he was now serving Shadowclan, she couldn't disagree with him for leaving Thunderclan when she already had so much resentment for them and ruling Shadowclan, it was true. They had been weaken for many moons, it was Tigerstar who reunited them and made them powerful. So when he promises to make her clan just as powerful, together, she doesnt refuse.

She very consistently and vocally had a dislike for half-clan cats. She exiled Graystripe. She calls Featherpaw and Stormpaw liabilities. She banishes Stormfur and Brook. I think she has very genuine hateful beliefs but at the same time she’s horrified at what happened to Stonefur. That was a cat she was trusting to become the next leader of Riverclan. And he was killed for defending innocent lives. She knows she was wrong, she regrets it, she has nightmares about the bonehill. (<- This was confirmed by an author apparently!) but her attempts to “atone” are surface level and shallow at best. She wants to be forgiven without changing. She makes Mistyfoot deputy to show she’s better now, but what meaning does that position have after Stonefur was slaughtered? She apologizes to Feathertail and Stormfur, but they still feel like complete outcasts. They’re more friendly with their former clanmates in Thunderclan and Leopardstar later exiles Stormfur over a faked sign. I think her attempts were never to better herself or right her victims, but to relieve her own guilt. She’s always prioritized herself above others.

#Short answer? I like her as a complicated DISlikable character #people can do bad things they regret and still be a bad person #I think her leadership is interesting because despite how much she doesn’t deserve it- shes the leader. she gets to stay the leader.#and continues to make bad choices sprinkled with few and far between moments of apology #because she feels more sorry for herself and her guilt than the cats affected by it #warrior cats #txt #Leopardstar #infodump tag #thanks for the ask! you get. giant paragraph

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