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whumpetywhumpwhump · 2 days ago

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Maisie's guide to disguised AI

If you've been anywhere near AO3 recently, you've probably encountered AI writing at some point. As somebody who writes for, primarily, the ER fandom (and occasionally the Pitt, too), I've noticed a concerning trend over the last few days: AI-generated fanfiction clogging the tags.

Firstly, I'd like to say that if you ARE posting fics on AO3 that were AI-generated, and you're passing them off as your own, please stop. I know this is not likely to actually resonate with you if this IS you, but on the off-chance that you do see this- please use tags as intended and make it clear that you're using AI.

Secondly, before I go into some AI tells in detail, I want to preface this with a warning- just because you see one or two of these in a fic, there's no guarantee that it was AI-generated. Please approach the matter of flagging fics with care, because the last thing I want is to incite a witch hunt against innocent people just engaging in fandom.

However, when seen in tandem, these signs should act as a warning to think a little more deeply about what you're reading, and ask the question- was this human written?

1. Em-dashes

I'm getting this one out of the way quickly because it's something easily identifiable, but it should by no means discredit a fic on its own. Real people can use em-dashes, but ChatGPT uses them a LOT. Like, a distracting amount. And they're often used in conjunction with...

2. 'Not' qualifiers

ChatGPT doesn't do 'yes, and'. It seems to work off 'no, but' instead (sorry @pagingdoctorcarter , like an AI, I am stealing your phrase here. But I do have the decency to credit, I suppose!).

Take this sentence I've come up with right now:

Carter was so exhausted he was struggling to stand, legs trembling with the strain of keeping him upright.

AI might write something like this (using my own creative license here because I don't want to feed the beast):

Carter was exhausted— not the regular exhaustion that came with twelve hours on his feet. Something deeper. Heavier.

3. Repetitive phrases.

AI is not original, so it can't come up with anything original, of course. This means that it relies on basic phrases it uses over and over and over again e.g 'the kind of (blank) that (blank)'

4. The classic 'concrete noun' + 'abstract noun' combo

For reasons that I can't quite understand, AI adores this. Some humans include this combo in their work, too, but AI does it even more frequently. Some real phrases I've encountered so far include:

"a story about meatballs and betrayal"

"champagne and anxiety soaked into the upholstery"

5. Anachronisms and inaccuracies

This is especially present in a fandom like ER, where most of the time we're writing about the 90s, and this CAN be attributed to genuine human error... but if Carter is repeatedly 'swiping' on his phone screen to open a call, and everyone's always texting... could be AI.

In a similar vein, if someone is shouting 'code blue!' for things that AREN'T cardiac arrest, or mixing up names and even hallucinating random characters- think 'maybe AI'.

6. Short sentences, short paragraphs, short chapters.

AI doesn't have the ability to understand how paragraphs are structured for ease of reading and flow. So it likes short sentences. Snappy sentences.

And not just when the situation suits it. But always.

If there's a hell of a lot of paragraphs, it could be AI. AI doesn't like including many clauses. At all.

7. Generic similes and phrases that don't mean anything at all

This relates to the 'concrete noun + abstract noun combo' but, more generally, AI produces writing that veers away from specifics. It won't often describe places in too much detail, and when it comes to similes, it uses simple, overused ones OR spouts a series of words that are meaningless. If you see an abstract simile in a fic, take a second. Is it abstract because it's complex and has several layers, or is it utterly meaningless?

8. A crazy update schedule

This one is less reliable because it IS possible to bank chapters and then post a lot in one go, but if an author is posting many thousands of words in the span of a few days, consider this a small red flag- especially in conjunction with the other things mentioned. It could mean they're just pumping out AI-generated writing, and this allows them to move far quicker than any human.

9. Overly mushy dialogue

AI is a thief, but it's a happy-go-lucky thief. Characters speak like they stepped straight off Sesame Street at times, lacking any kind of emotional complexity.

10. Awful, awful jokes

AI cannot write jokes. It simply cannot. If you read a joke in a fic that feels Disney-Channel esque but also doesn't make sense at all? It very well could be AI.

For instance:

Nobody talks like this.

Also, note the 'concrete noun + abstract noun' combo again here! (This actually was an AI fic as confirmed by author before deletion, not naming them here): 'gauze and intuition'.

Conclusion

Be vigilant. Don't fall for AI crap and, if you disagree with the concept of AI work clogging AO3 tags, definitely don't leave kudos.

And if you're posting this stuff, yet again I ask you politely, please STOP.

Thank you.

#writing #fanfiction #ao3 #nbc er #er 1994 #med whump #whump

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sucker4vy · 18 hours ago

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BUSY WOMAN, UNLESS YOU CALL TONIGHT .ᐟ

PAIRING: pedro pascal x actress!reader

SYNOPSIS: Pedro and the reader have been caught together multiple times, and now, all eyes are on them more than ever after she’s spotted leaving his apartment. Though she hasn’t said or made the relationship official, she finally breaks her silence at the Gladiator II premiere when an interviewer asks about the recent sighting.

WARNINGS: fem!reader, age gap (reader is in her mid-late twenties), confusing!pedro, situationship, not technically a smau but does include comments and a few posts, the media is obsessed with reader and pedro, eventual smut, no use of yn (except for posts)

WC: 3.2k

A/N: not me taking a whole other day to finish it 😶 honestly this could’ve been so much longer than it was but next time just watch i’ll make it longer

series masterlist | next chapter

Pedro rests his hand on the small of your back as he guides you to the door. He twists the lock and swings it open for you like the gentleman he always is.

As you’re about to step outside, you feel his hand slowly slip away, but it pauses when you do. Turning back to him, you ask, “I’ll see you at the premiere?” Accompanied by an awkward smile.

It’s a question you probably shouldn’t have asked, and judging by his expression, it’s one he’s caught off guard by. “You’re going?” He asks.

“I have nothing else to do that day.” You shy away from him. It was a lie but it’s one that would convince him the most.

Yet for some reason, it still didn't seem to work because disbelief flashed across, quickly replaced by skepticism. “You? Not busy?” You nod curiously at his reaction. “I don’t believe it.”

“Well, believe it,” You laugh softly to yourself and you see his lips twitch, but he’s back to his serious—no, trying to be serious self.

But he can’t help it when the room is filled with silence for another second and then he cracks. He bursts into a hearty laughter and his hand glides up to your nape, guiding your head toward his for a quick peck on the lips.

“Now, I do.” His gaze lingers on your lips, debating whether or not he should steal another kiss—just one last one. You push away before he can lean in again.

Before you turn around he catches a glimpse of a little cheesy grin on your face. “Goodnight, Pedro.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he replies. You look back at him once more as you walk away ever so slowly and you catch him eyeing your body. He notices your figure shift and is quick to look around, suddenly fascinated by his apartment complex. A hand over his mouth and body leaning against the door frame, caught in the act.

You can’t help but giggle at his little sneaky act and you’re pretty sure it’s just as funny to him too because you hear a muffled laugh from behind you. You’ll definitely tease him later about checking you out.

When you step out of the building, you feel the cool air kiss your skin, and you can’t help but wish you had covered up a little more. A skirt was not the best choice for tonight, something you realized a little too late.

In the corner of your eye, you see a white flash. Your eyes widen in surprise as you turn to confront the source, only to find yourself staring directly at a phone.

You move to push the phone out of your face so that you're able to get a look at the actual source, but before you can fully get a good look at their appearance, they're unning for dear life.

In the moment, it’s funny and you scoff at their idiocy, and in that same moment, it hits you. It his you like a ton of bricks.

It feels like everything has slowed down as your mind movesq quick, a thousand thoughts per second, a million of all the possible outcomes run through your head.

Where you are, where you’re standing outside of more specifically Pedro Pascal’s apartment. That photo incriminates you and it’ll prove something that you’ve been trying to keep hidden from the media and yourself.

Behind you, you hear doors open and close, heavy footsteps on pavement, and then a hand on your shoulder. Your head spins around so fast you felt as though you were going to get whiplash.

“Woah, did I scare you?” There’s a teasting lilt in his voice but when he sees your expression, his smile dims. “Is something wrong?”

You exhale deeply to calm your nerves. “I think we’ve been caught.”

—

Different brushes glide over your face, blenders dabbing under your eye, and fingertips gliding over your nose to blend in the highlighter as much as it needed to look perfect.

Your makeup artist, Estelle, who had been all cheery and so talkative seconds ago, is now quiet, focused on her canvas, ensuring everything is flawless. She only speaks when she needs you to tilt your chin up a little or to look that way or this way.

When she’s finished she spins your chair around so that you face her, grabbing you chin gently for you to look at her. Her hand lifts from your chin and ghosts over your nose, drawing back with an unsureness, eyes squinting.

Her face quickly brightens with a loving smile. “You’re all finished!” She spins my chair back around, now facing the vanity. I meet my reflection and I admire Estelle’s work, which she killed like always. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she asks, “You like?”

“I love.” You look up at her with a smile, one that’s genuine but fragile as well.

“You know, this whole time I’ve been doing your glam you’ve been kind of tense, what’s up?” She smirks as if she knows something you don't. “It’s Pedro, huh?”

“No, no, no,” you’re quick to deny. “It’s not Pedro.” Estelle gives you a ‘are you kidding me’ kind of look because the both you know damn well that Pedro Pascal is the reason.

Estelle sighs, walking over to where your dress is hanging. “I know about that whole ordeal, honey. You can’t fool me.” She ushers you to stand up with hand gestures and pushes the dress into your hands. You don’t move from where you stand, only staring down at your dress.

It’s beautiful, bold. Designer? Alexander McQueen. It’s silk and corseted. Though it doesn't really go with the theme of the movie, it’s still a fantastic choice.

It commands attention without screaming for it. It’ll make her stand out on her own terms and possibly, hopefully, draw away attention from all the rumors going around. Maybe everyone will be too focused on her dress and forget about all the times the paparazzi have caught you with Pedro.

But let’s be realistic, you’ll be at the Gladiator II premiere, Pedro’s movie. They’ll be focused less on your dress and more on your appearance, but lucky for you, you have an excuse for that. You’ll say you’re there to meet with the director, that you’re thinking about working with him. You just hope they’ll believe it.

Walking out of the bathroom, you’re met face to face with your assistant, Daphne, whom you call Daph for short. She gives you a once-over and nods her head, looking around and saying, “I don’t know if Pedro’s going to be able to resist you this time around.”

You roll your eyes and mutter a small, “Thanks.” She gives you a thumbs-up and a coy smile.

“Shoes on?” She asks. You nod. “Hair?” Your hairstylist rushes over to you to fix a single strand, tucks it behind your ear, and then steps away. “Alrighty, I think we’re good to go.”

You turn to your glam team, thanking them for all their hard work and then you’re off to the premiere, but not before Estelle shouts, “Say hello to Pedro for me,” which gives everyone in the room a laugh.

You let out a giggle. “Bye, everyone.” And they all give a bye in return, some shouting, “Have fun!”

—

In the car, Daphne is helping you prepare for interviews. You’re sitting one seat over from her, not really paying attention since she has probably been over this a million times within two days.

When she first found out you were going to attend the premiere, she was baffled. “After all the rumors going around? Are you kidding me?” She had said.

You had told her it would be good for you, that you had come up with a reason that makes you look like you are strictly there for business and definitely not because you want to be one of the first ones to see Pedro Pascal in a gladiator costume, possibly all sweaty, and looking criminalally good. You could not pass up this opportunity.

It’s also a chance to clear up any rumors, or at least try to. You’re just really just trying to help your publicist who’s already way too stressed, but you just keep making things worse.

Sunday morning, you had woken up to a phone being pushed into your face, an article with the headline in big bold letters that read “FAMOUS ACTRESS SPOTTED OUTSIDE PEDRO PASCAL'S HOME.”

And it wasn’t your publicist behind that phone, it had been your assistant who had been told by your publicist.

Oh, was Daphne angry? No. She was fuming. “Call him. Now,” she said with a stern tone. And you were going to dial the number to talk things out with Pedro but you really just needed time to let everything sink in, you had just woken up for crying out loud.

You had told Daphne you’d call him later—later meaning that you’d wait for him to call you. He probably hadn’t even seen it yet, or so you told yourself.

So you waited.

And you waited

And, to your disappointment, you waited.

You would check your phone constantly. Every time you found your self drifting off during your meeting you shook yourself awake and checked your phone. Whenever Daphne mentioned something about the rumors you were quick to check your phone.

It got to a point where she literally had to rip your phone away from you just so you can get through a line from a script you were supposed to be rehearsing.

Then, just as you’re pushing your dinner around the plate, you phone buzzes. One buzz. Then another. You freeze

Please don't be a stupid notification. Please—Pedro’s name lights up your screen and you don’t even hesitate to press accept, taking a shaky breath, and brace yourself for what he’s about to tell you.

In the car, Daphne is helping you prepare for interviews. You’re sitting one seat over from her, not really paying attention since she has probably been over this a million times within two days.

She goes through a list of every possible question in every possible form, and you know she's stressed out by the way she just keeps going.

When she first found out you were going to attend the premiere, she was baffled. “After all the rumors going around? Are you kidding me?” She had said.

It’s also a chance to clear up any rumors, or at least try to. You’re just really just trying to help your publicist who’s already way too stressed, but you just keep making things worse.

You should’ve listened to Daphne when she told you not to go to Pedro’s, that you may get caught and it’ll be a big problem if you did. You wished you hadn’t ignored her warnings and simply just brushed her off saying that it would be fine because look at how wrong you were.

Now, all you can do is hope that an interviewer won’t ask about what’s going on between you and Pedro.

At least Pedro is worry-free, he just thinks that you were kidding about attending the premiere but little does he know you’re about to draw lots of attention right now.

—

Your heel hits the red carpet. No one seems to notice you quite yet, which makes you even more anxious for when they do.

Flashes go off a few yards down the carpet where one of the cast members is posing, not Pedro nor Joseph—but Paul. For now all eyes are on him and for you, there’s a fleeting moment of quiet, not literal silence, but the kind of breathless stillness that lives before impact.

You take a careful step forward and as you grow into the view of one of the photographers. He looks almost unsure at first, and he mumbles, “Is that who I think it is?” It’s loud enough for the person next to him to hear and repeat the same name, her head following his. Then one by one all their eyes fly to you as travel along the carpet.

You straighten up once flashes hit your face, smiling nice and big for the camera. You lift your chin up a little more, your arms are at your sides, one resting at you hip.

You move more down along the carpet, and now you’re standing just a few feet away from Paul. In the corner of your eye, you see that Paul notices you, and he shuffles closer over to you.

You look at him and he’s already smiling. “Picture?” He offers.

“Of course.” You lean more into him, wrapping your arm around him and he follows your movement, his hand placed in the middle of your back.

They shout for you to get a little closer together so you do. You lean your head towards his just a tad for one last photo and then he pats your back. “Thanks.” You give him a nod and follow him off the carpet.

Anyone you saw with a microphone you tried to dodge and stay out of their sight. Weaving your way through the crowds, but you couldn’t ignore everyone.

Some of the cast members came up to you and said hi. One of them was Fred, whom you worked with once. You were surprised that he even remembered, considering it had been a while since you had seen each other. Connie had also come to you to say hello, this was actually your first time meeting her. You’ve only heard of her, never have actually seen her in person before, she said the same thing about you.

Connie was so sweet and you guys chatted for a while, but the conversation was cut short when an interviewer snuck up on you. You felt a tap on your shoulder and Connie excused herself so you could be interviewed without interruption, part of you wanted to beg her not to leave you, but you couldn’t.

Where Connie was standing is where the interviewer was standing now. She introduced herself as Steph from Entertainment Tonight, and you're all rainbows and sunshine on the outside, but on the inside you're about to freak out because you know that they’re about to go in deep with these questions.

She looked into the camera, and so did you. “You, my dear, look breathtaking tonight. I have to say this dress is a moment.”

“Thank you, Steph, it means a lot. I really needed something that was bold, especially for tonight, you know?” She agrees, and then her face shifts into one of curiosity.

“We didn’t know we’d be seeing you here tonight, and we were wondering what brought you out?” She holds up the microphone to your lips.

“I have so much respect for everyone on the team and I wanted to see all the hard work they put into this movie come to life.” You continue, “The story scale, the artistry, the history. It all reminds you why you love what you do and it really inspires you.”

“Of course, of course! All of the cast members are so talented and it's such a big night for them. I love how supportive you are!” Her eyes turned away from your for a split second to give the camera a slick grin, then they’re back on you. Her voice dips, now ever so gentle, “A lot of people think your presence tonight has something to do with Pedro Pascal. You were just seen leaving his place late Saturday night. Is you being here simply a coincidence?”

You blink, smile faltering for just a second before you regather yourself. There’s a pause, then a sigh, and you know your silence speaks louder than what you’re about to say right now. “I didn’t come tonight to answer rumors. But I know that if I’m quiet it just makes the noise louder.”

Hesitating and taking a breath, you continue, “I knew that being here tonight would raise some eyebrows, especially after Saturday. I think it’s just reading a little too much into things. Pedro is someone I care about, yes, but…” You glance off to the side, searching for the safest answer. “But caring about someone doesn't mean there’s always a headline in it.”

Steph is silent for a split second, taking the microphone away from you once she realizes you’re not going to continue. “So, you’re just friends?”

Your eyes flicker toward the camera before returning to Steph, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yes,” is your answer, but your body language says otherwise when you play with the ring around your finger.

“Well, you heard it here first, people. Just friends.” She nods in assurance. “Thank you.”

You’re thankful it’s over, but you can already feel the internet writing headlines. The nerves really got to you during that interview, and you’re sure no one believes that you and Pedro are just friends after you left his house so late at night.

Daphne won’t be too happy either with your answers. You really should’ve gone with what she told you to say in case of this, instead you kind of just freestyled it.

You notice everyone beginning to head to the theatre, so you follow the crowd inside. Before the movie starts, they give a speech to the audience that celebrates everyone behind the making of the film.

One by one all the actors come up and are congratulated, given praise for their work. The whole time you only focus on one of those actors, whose eyes are searching through the audience for one person in particular. You.

He can’t seem to find you in the sea of people, and it’s too late to continue searching because he already needs to take a seat.

So, the movie plays. You sit in the dark, laughing when you’re supposed to, clapping when it’s over, and the credits roll.

To the naked eye, you’re acting normal, but inside you’re unraveling. The entire movie played on one screen, and the interview was on repeat in the other—in your mind.

What if you hadn’t swallowed the part about being more than friends? What if you had told them it was so much more than that?

Frankly, you’re tired of hiding something that has been going on for months. You’re tired of Pedro denying that there’s nothing really going on between you, or at least, you’re tired of him pretending like there’s nothing going on because there is. There’s so much more than what he denies himself.

You quite literally canceled multiple meetings for an upcoming audition on Sunday just so you could squeeze in a fitting for the dress you wore. Replacing a meeting about character backstory for one about about heel height and fabric swatches.

The script you were reading last night? That was for the same audition, now pushed to Wednesday. The meetings for that same audition you had pushed to tomorrow.

And there was a few more things replaced, delayed, or rescheduled just so you could be here tonight. Just so you could support Pedro.

He didn’t ask you to and still, you showed up.

You’re booked and busy. You have a whole career to chase. You have people to call back, scenes to prep, and so much more.

But if he called tonight?

You’d answer.

taglist: @not-the-teen-witch @namelesslosers @oystercat

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #gladiator ll #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #gladiator movie #actress reader #famous reader #somethin’ sweet trilogy

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st3f13ily · 14 hours ago

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Father-Daughter Dance & Protective Dad Mode

Gojo panics when his little girl gets asked to dance by a boy. "You're too young for this!"

(Years later, at a school event where Gojo learns his biggest challenge isn't curses—it's letting go.)

Masterlist

The gym was decorated in soft fairy lights, the music gentle, the kids excitedly running around in their little dress shoes and fancy outfits. You stood near the punch table, chatting with one of the other parents, while Gojo Satoru hovered in the corner, arms crossed, watching the dance floor like a hawk.

Specifically, watching his daughter.

Satomi—now seven years old and looking way too grown up in her light blue dress and sparkly hair clips—was spinning in circles with her twin brother, Satoshi. Her giggles were louder than the music, her silver hair bouncing as she twirled like a ballerina.

Gojo had taken one (1) photo and then immediately gone into full-blown overprotective dad mode.

"She's having fun." you said gently, nudging his side.

"She's being watched," he muttered, narrowing his eyes at a little boy walking toward her. "By him."

You looked and smiled. "That's Daichi, Toru. They sit next to each other in class."

"Exactly. Too close. Too much proximity."

"Don't start."

But Gojo had already stepped forward a little, squinting like Daichi had personally insulted his bloodline.

You placed a hand on his arm. "Toru, he's seven."

"She's my daughter!"

Meanwhile, on the dance floor, little Daichi had just asked Satomi if she wanted to dance. Her eyes lit up with delight as she nodded, handing her juice box to Satoshi before walking off with Daichi to the center of the floor.

Gojo gasped. "No. Nope. Unacceptable."

You barely managed to hold him back as he took a step forward. "Don't embarrass her."

"She's a literal baby!" he whisper-yelled. "She was just born yesterday!"

"She's seven."

"She still sleeps with that stuffed bear I gave her! She can't be out here slow dancing like some—some—"

"Relax. It's a school dance. They're just doing the Macarena."

Gojo watched, pouting like the sky had fallen. "She didn't even ask me to dance first…"

You softened, brushing his arm. "Then ask her now. You'll always be her first dance, you know."

He hesitated. Then sighed. "…Fine. But if that boy even thinks about holding her hand, I'm teleporting him to Siberia."

You rolled your eyes, laughing.

Later that evening, after Satomi had danced with her classmates, Gojo approached her, kneeling slightly and offering his hand.

"Can I steal a dance, princess?" he asked, smiling—his usual cocky grin replaced by something gentler, warmer.

Satomi lit up, hugging him first before taking his hand. "You're late, Papa!"

"I had to make sure no evil boys were lurking." he said dramatically, spinning her around. "But you look just like your mama tonight, so I forgive you."

Satoshi watched from the side, sipping juice and murmuring, "Papa's crying."

"I am not!" Gojo sniffled mid-spin.

You just smiled, snapping a photo of your husband and daughter dancing under fairy lights, her little feet on top of his shoes, his hand securely holding hers.

The strongest sorcerer in the world was helpless.

And the only curse he couldn’t dispel...

Was watching his little twins grow up.

@joohyunrene @lixisoul99

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lushthemagicdragon · 1 day ago

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I am absolutely obsessed with how Sammie is shot in this scene in comparison to his father. It's directly tied into a tl;dr I have about both how Christianity is treated in this film and how the magic system works in this story and so, while at some point I might write a whole ass blog post (or even an academic paper) in the future, here's the cliffnote word vomit version of why I think this is so fucking cool:

So basically, this film frames Christianity as one of the villains of the story (along with the white-liberalism-culture-vampires and the Klan), and heavily implies that what Sammie's dad wants from him is the same as what Remmick wants from him: to be used for the power of his music and subsumed into a soulless, cultureless whole. Where Sammie is lit in warm tones and dressed in warm colors, backdropped by green nature, his dad is lit in very stark cool tones with minimal contrast so he's almost in monochrome, surrounded only by the empty whiteness of the chapel. This film very clearly delivers a thesis that Christianity is a real-world culture-vampire that white people inflicted on the Black community, from the way Sammie's dad is shot and lit to look like the vampires do in this film, from Delta Slim's clear delineation that the blues isn't like that "religion they forced on us", to the way that Sammie's return to the chapel at the start and finish is intercut with scenes of Remmick. These flashes of Remmick and the horrors of that night that are cut into Sammie's dad telling him to repent and drop the guitar are the catalyst for Sammie leaving, because he figures it out. And in part he figured it out BECAUSE of the second thing that is fascinating, and that is basically the consistency of the magic system.

Basically, the magic system in this movie is antithetical to Christianity as a whole.

I'm going to preface this by saying that when I talk about Annie's hoodoo I'm NOT talking about real world hoodoo, which I know nothing about. I'm just talking about how the film presents hoodoo, and how the film presents the fae, and how these things all function within the same cohesive magic system.

Annie's Hoodoo, Sammie's music, and the Vampires are all diametrically opposed to Christianity, and are all within the realm of Faërie magic.

So when I say Faerie I don't mean specifically the sidhe, though the sidhe are part of Faerie. By Faerie magic I mean specifically the magic of the natural world, which is often ancestral, and often associated with an Otherworld that is still part of the World itself but is greater than humans. This is as opposed to sorcery (man-made magic) or heavenly/satanic (abrahamic/usually christian magic). When I say the entire magic system is Faërie it is because the Vampires are very CLEARLY laid out as Faërie, while Sammie's magic and Annie's Hoodoo are all part of the same consistent system of magic, laid out right at the start.

So basically right from the very first scene the film puts West African magic, Choctaw magic and ancient Irish magic as existing within the same frame of reality. All three have a concept of the magical singer, and all three (we later find out) know about vampires. It establishes that these all function in the same magic system, which is the Reality of this Secondary World. What is real for one group in this magic system is real for all of them. They may use different language to talk about the same thing, but the concepts are the same across the board in this universe. We're just talking about fictional secondary world magic system building here, and consistent storytelling, not real world understandings of these things.

the vampires are the most clearly Fae creatures (and by this I don't mean Fairies, but creatures associated with Faërie--imo they're like Changelings in that they were once human and then become Fae). Remmick is ancient Irish, out here singing Irish folk songs and handing gold coins to people at a crossroads, saying that the gold comes from an ancient place but it's no use to Mary while she's "alive" (human and not of the fae). It's super on-the-nose almost to the point of being irish stereotype caricature. I'll come back to him.

Annie's Hoodoo is never outright put in opposition to Christianity, but it's significant that she is not a mixed practitioner. There are no clear icons or crosses in her home. The grave marker for their dead child is not a cross but a carved African figure, which is very significant in 1930s Mississippi. She is solely a hoodoo practitioner, who lives in a ramshackle cottage in the words selling magical/natural cures. She's very witch-in-the-wood coded, but is never ever presented as wicked or evil. She's also the only spiritual figure in the film that can be trusted, and she is trusted implicitly. She is also the one who understands the consistency of the magic systems, as the teller of the intro tale and as the one who knows how to fight the vampires. This includes throwing NOT holy water on them, but garlic pickling juice. Crosses are also never used in her instructions on how to push them away (a very common vampire trope), just garlic, silver, fire, and stakes. I would also argue that Smoke's death scene with her and the baby is NOT heavenly, it's just afterlife coded (because white is generally the afterlife color code for visual media). Again, no angels, no heavenly coding, just afterlife coding. You COULD argue that she's virgin mary coded in this scene because she's breastfeeding, but we did see her actively have sex on screen earlier so that's tenuous at best. It's also shot with that same warped camera affect that happens whenever the mojo bag is in-use.

Then there is the Music. Music in general is a very common magical device in Faërie magic, and Tolkien is like the king of this: music holds power than the spoken word does not, music is the truest art of creating enchantment, this secondary world that the fae can produce, a fully realized enchanted art form. tl;dr there's a lot here but that's the cliffnotes version. Delta Slim outright says that the music is brought with them from home, rather than being forced upon them like Christianity. Sammie's music is what Sammie's dad wants to stamp out of him, or at least use to his limited means. It's Sammie's connection to the music that makes him a sinner in his father's eyes. But this is really hammered home in the final scene between Remmick and Sammie and then Sammie and his dad.

So I don't actually think Remmick's final monologue is supposed to be a final villain monologue so much as a final exposition monologue. I think the final villain monologue is Sammie's dad trying to compel him with the power of Christ, based on story structure. Generally speaking, a final villain monologue is supposed to be the peak of their evil plan, which is then foiled and shown to be wrong by the actions of the heroes. That's not exactly what Remmick's final speech does. In the final speech, Remmick explains that Christianity is the reason his culture is dead (and so the reason for the culture vampire void that needs to be filled), but he also says the following:

"They told stories of a heaven above and a devil below, and lies about the dominion of man over heaven and earth. We are earth and beast and God. We are woman and man. We are connected, you and I, to everything."

*if* this was a classic villain finale monologue, the response to this would have been "oh look this weird anti-christian pagan creature is monologuing, so he's evil, and the church is good and correct and the Truth", but that isn't how the film ends. Instead, the Remmick looks into the sunrise and hears the call of the Otherworld and his people (rather than say, heaven, because it's given that same Faerie irish lilt) but instead the music turns and he goes up in horrible flames for his crimes. UP in flames, up into the sky, which is NOT Christian for a "demon" to do in death (because he's not a demon, he's fae, Sammie calls him the devil repeatedly because he hasn't figured this out yet). The film "ends" (prior to the epilogue) with Sammie remembering the torment he went through from these vampires, after hearing this monologue, while at the church with his father trying to compel him to join *his* coven/clan/flock, and Sammie realizing that what his father is doing to him is this same repeated cycle of violence that happened to Remmick and that Remmick was trying to repeat onto him, and LEAVES.

Because of this, I think those lines above are not the typical final villain monologue, but the final bit of exposition that tells the audience the truth: that Sammie's magic and Remmick's magic (and Annie's magic as the one spiritual figure of the bunch) are all connected, you and I, to everything, with no dominion of man over heaven and earth. It establishes the magic system as consistent, and diametrically opposed to Christianlity

Faerie is morally neutral, it is the magic-of-the-World rather than of a moral dichotomy. It can be revelatory and healing, and it can be seductive and destructive. Annie and Sammie's magic is Good, and the Vampires are Evil, but they are all together diametrically opposed to the Church.

This is why the framing of Sammie and his dad in that opening scene is so fascinating, because behind Sammie is the natural world, warm and vibrant and welcoming, and behind his dad is man-made emptiness and shadow. Title of the film says it all, this film is ABOUT the so-called Sinners, the un-Christians. And that's not presented as a bad thing to be at all, but a truly magical thing, and that being a Sinner is joyous activity.

#sinners 2025 #sinners #Ryan Coogler has read On Fairy Stories by JRR Tolkien I'm telling you #He understands Faerie and secondary world magic system building #this is the short version of this btw like I can go into so much detail about how this is done in this movie and its fascinating #dont even get me started about how the river scene is visually set up to be a baptism but is never actually allowed to be a baptism #its designed to unsettle expectations #genre fiction storytelling is the best #every time i rewatch im like ok so Sammies dad is a vampire (metaphorical)#the visuals are SO SO CLEAR #lemme tell you as a jew knowledgeable about the history of the oppressive force of christianity against my own people this was A+ to see

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destinysbounty · 1 day ago

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On the topic of mergeswap AUs, most of the ninja could be shuffled around to different Merge scenarios with equally compelling results, but I maintain that by far the most *interesting* swap would be Lloyd-Zane. That is to say, Lloyd gets put in the coma pod while Zane is left alone in the monastery.

Out of all the post-Merge scenarios, I think Lloyd would most severely be fucked up by completely sleeping through it - he wakes up to find that not only is the world different, but his friends have spent *years* struggling to survive without his help. He's supposed to be their leader, their guide, the chosen savior of prophecy. It's his job to look out for them, isn't it? But he wasn't there. The world fell apart, his team is in shambles, and everyone has suffered innumerable traumas as a result...and he wasn't there for any of it. Knowing Lloyd, the self-imposed guilt would absolutely eat him alive. Also, once again he is chronologically displaced - before it was the age of his mind and body being mismatched, and now he is once again missing several years of his life.

(Also I think it's funny if we put Lloyd in Zane's pod specifically, especially if he's still the Conduit. Because that means he woke up, immediately jumped into the fight against Imperium, and then like 10 minutes later volunteered to take on life-changing god powers from some random talking dragon. All without any context for anything that is going on whatsoever.)

As for Zane...god, where do I even start.

So, putting Zane in the monastery is fascinating for a number of reasons.

Out of everyone on the team, the ones who consistently cope with isolation the worst are Cole and Zane. That's not to say the others enjoy it, per se, but they're all at least able to lock in and get shit done as needed, trauma be damned. But Cole is very community-oriented and comes a bit unglued in the absence of a community to rely on (DotD, s10), and Zane...oh boy.

Zane is usually the one to die, so he is rarely put in a position of grieving the others. His only instances of mourning the absenceof a loved one are:

His father, which happened off-screen so we don't know how he handled that initially (he seems to be okay in s3, but knowing Zane he probably just repressed the feeling and moved on)

Nya in Seabound, which he was so ill-equipped to deal with that he turned off his emotions entirely

Pixal in DR, where he was so unable to handle her absence that he straight up stapled a photo of her to a broom and started talking to it. Also with Kai getting lost in superhell, which we don't really see him grieving over but also we don't see much of that from anyone so uhhh I'm choosing to ignore that for now.

Picture it. Zane, alone in the monastery, with none of his friends around and no way of knowing what happened to them. All he can do is sit and hold vigil in the hopes that they will eventually come back (something something Echo Zane lighthouse parallels). I'm not saying Zane would start taping his friends' photos to random appliances by the end of week 1 and cry over his tenth ice sculpture of Pix by week 2, but uhhhh....actually no that's exactly what I'm saying. Provided he doesn't miraculously find a way to get himself killed while chilling in the monastery, I give him like 6 months before his sanity completely unravels.

Another reason for swapping Zane into Lloyd's spot is that whoever is in the monastery at the start of DR also gets to be the mentor to the new ninja. And that puts Zane in a *very* interesting position.

Zane is, on both a meta and narrative level, a support character. He's your medic, your backup, your HQ, and he can even be your damsel in distress. He's not really a leader by nature, and it is rare for him to take charge or assume a position of authority unless the situation demands it of him. He's generally content to sit back and let everyone else take charge - he let Cole take the lead during the prison break in s4, he's one of the only ones not to express pushback when Lloyd officially becomes the leader, etc.

It's actually a bit odd how rare it is for him to lead, bc it feels like everyone else has way more instances of flexing their leadership skills. Off the top of my head, i can think of exactly three occasions where Zane assumes a position of authority:

For about 10 mins in s5, which ends in him glitching out and talking backwards

In s14 when he became Captain Zane, but that was mostly for comedic effect, and authority goes back to Lloyd and Nya once the situation actually gets serious

In s11 when he became Ice Emperor, but he had to be magically corrupted, mind-wiped, AND gaslit in order for that to even happen.

(You could argue he took charge during the Snake Jaguar incident, but he didn’t take charge of the whole team and also it didn't end well.)

All this to say, Zane doesn't have a positive track record with being in charge. Probably even worse, now that he has all that Ice Emperor baggage to deal with.

So what do you do with a character like that? Naturally, you give him a gaggle of wide-eyed children to look after and tell him to teach them how to be ninja. Lloyd was already hesitant to be their master in canon, but Zane would be even worse.

Furthermore, Zane, uh...doesn't really have many friends outside of the ninja (aside from his falcon, who hasnt existed in the show for years). Cole has the Upply and the Finders, Nya is close to Ronin and became good friends with Bentho, Kai has Skylor and Wyldfyre, Lloyd had the resistance and Akita and now the next-gen kids, Jay started an entire cult in Prime Empire and also seems to be on good terms with Unagami, and even Wu is close to Faith...but who does Zane have outside of the team? Vex, maybe? Possibly Borg, even though that relationship isn't explored onscreen? Sally, who gets one whole episode spotlighting her and Zane before vanishing into obscurity?

This even continues in DR, too. Theres a new cast of characters to befriend and connect with, many of whom share a lot in common with Zane, but he doesn't really interact at length with anyone but his old friends and Frohickey.

True, a lot of that can be blamed on Zane's gradual narrative dehumanization depriving him of meaningful personal connections, but in-universe you could also attribute that to his self worth. Zane is so wrapped up in his belief that he exists to serve and protect, and he is so strongly devoted to the ninja that he can be a bit one-track-minded about it. He loves his family so much that he doesn't have time to care for anyone else in the same way. They are his world, his everything, his life's purpose...without them, he is nothing. Can you say "codependent"?

But now, he's alone in the monastery. He doesn't know if his friends are alive. All he can do is sit and pray and hope they come back to him. And after years of waiting, he crosses paths not with his family, but with two new kids. They want him to teach them to be ninja. But Zane is too afraid - afraid of leaving his post, afraid that being in charge will bring out his inner Ice Emperor...afraid of betraying his family by finding a new one.

He does agree to help them in the end, if only because he exists to protect and they need protection. But the whole time, he is afraid, and anxious, and painfully unsure of himself. But just as he teaches them how to be strong, how to fight, how to be brave and kind and selfless...they teach him how to believe in himself. How to reclaim his sense of identity. How to stand on his own without his friends, and how to make new ones. How to live for his loved ones, rather than dying for them.

(And yeah, okay, a small part of it this is definitely spite for the way he's been unilaterally snubbed by DR canon. I won't deny that)

Personally, if I were to write a mergeswap AU that's probably the direction I'd take. But then again, I might just be on some next-level copium and desperately trying to make Zane actually relevant to DR in some meager way

#there are two things preventing me from buckling down and writing the zane-centric mergeswap au in my drafts #1) im currently doing a full series rewatch and im still on ToE #2) maybe i just dont know where to look but it often feels like zane is the least popular character in the fanfic space #and everyone loves dad lloyd. idk if itd go over well to hand that story off to zane instead #ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #dragons rising #ninjago zane #zane julien #mergeswap au #destiny post

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domestic-pest · 2 days ago

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The sheer amount of people in the tags saying things like 'stop using brain damage to insinuate someone is stupid' or 'what happened to just calling someone stupid or dumb' and similar things. Suggesting those are better.

Both 'stupid' and 'dumb' were medical terms for people with disabilities too, they're *also* ableist terms implying a medical basis for unwanted behaviour in their modern usage. They changed the names of those disabilities because people used them as a slur. They have done this a Lot with medical terminology because stigmas get attached to diagnoses.

Im guilty of saying things on occasion that are Not great in this regard because this shit is. So ingrained into cultural vocabulary (which, in itself, shows how deeply ingrained ableism is in society, which is upsetting to say the least), but we need to be doing the work where we can to unlearn that. Because, again, as OP said, bigotry is not caused by brain damage, it's a learned cultural thing and due to existing in the world, all of us have at least some kind of internal rhetoric and biases that are harmful honestly, the replies on this post are.. so much proof of that.

Which is in no way to suggest people Mean to, but we need to be aware of and work on changing how we talk about these things. It ranges from thinking people with tremors are addicts (the stigma on addicts is also not great, but a side topic there) to using terminology that implies someones' harmful behaviour is caused by brain damage, head injury specifically, or developmental disability, and also implications that people with those conditions are inherently unfit to be in responsible positions. (peoples' symptoms are individual, bigotry, again, is not caused by brain damage).

using brain damage as an insult isn't a better alternative to using the r word. brain damage doesn't cause bigotry, and it's not the punchline for a joke. you know you can express astonishment at someone's actions without implying they must have brain damage. brain injuries aren't the end of someone's worth as a person. like are you even aware there's various types of brain injury.

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alexaloraetheris · 2 days ago

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I found this youtube video of a TikTok compilation of 'purse restock station' videos and like an idiot I clicked on it. God when will I learn? My faith in humanity is suffering enough without shit like this.

For those of you fortunate enough not to know, a 'restock station' is basically a big acrylic box with compartments that you fill up with things you usually keep in your purse, so when you run out of something or you switch purses you just take the stuff from your restock station.

In theory, this is actually right up my alley because I pack all of my purses like I'm expecting to survive the apocalypse with nothing but what I already have on me. I'm that one girl who has an extra tampon, bandaids, ibuprofen, an extra raincoat, deodorant, scrunchie, brush, you fucking name it I have it with me. I even have one of those travel toothbrushes in case I get sick after a car ride. If you dropped me anywhere in the world with just the stuff I have in my purse, I think I could survive for 24 hour if I had a good coat on me.

But these videos really blow my gasket because I know, I KNOW what shit I might actually need and what I've eventually taken out because I never got to use it, and these girlies? They're so fucking obviously not using any of this shit it drives me crazy. They're an insult to overpackers everywhere. Tampons, soap paper and wet wipes, yeah, that makes sense you want that in every purse. Mini fucking beauty blenders and mini razors???? Those teeny compressed towels that nobody uses and mini packs of tictacs????? AREN'T TICTACKS ALREADY TINY ENOUGH???? I saw one where the girl put in facemasks. THOSE DON'T EVEN MAKE SENSE FOR AN OVERNIGHT BAG!!!! WHY ARE THERE SO MANY AIRPODS THERE?????

I feel like those restock stations are a mockery of me specifically and I want to bite someone. I want to go fucking feral and grab these girlies by the neck and shake them until their brain starts working again. This is a cosplay of us overprepared girlies. It would be satire if they had a smidge of self awareness. Overconsumption aestetic in a new hat. I bet they wouldn't even give a friend in need one of those tampons they're always shoving in there BECAUSE THEY AREN'T ACTUALLY USING THEM!!!!

#okay rant over #but shit if everything about tiktok doesn't make me want to go live in the woods #just me and my purse and no wifi #I'll come and restock when I run out of something ten years later

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thevoidstaredback · 3 days ago

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Part 8

There is exactly one good thing about Gotham City, New Jersey, and that his the sheer amount of miasma in the air. When condensed into a liquid-like form, miasma looks to be glowing green. The LoA called it Lazarus Waters, the Doctors Fenton called it Ectoplasm. No matter it's name, though, it's all the same stuff.

Normally, miasma can't be detected unless someone is specifically trained to detect it. Sometimes, though, the stuff gets so full of emotions and intents that it becomes heavy and pools together.

The League of Assassins are terrifying because they found a pool filled to the brim with so much magical intent that they can bring back their dead soldiers. However, the dead are meant to stay dead, and revival takes a lot of magic, so the miasma takes as it gives. It gives life and it takes souls, leaving only the worst. It's not an unrecoverable process, but it is a very long and tedious one.

The Doctors Fenton are more than terrifying because they found a way to imprint miasma with magic without one being completely absorbed into the other. It's an ugly and awesome amalgamation of magic and science, condensing enough miasma into one place, shocking it full of electricity and magic and intent, and opening a portal into a world not meant to be accessed by anyone or thing. A two-way door where there should have only ever been a wall.

All this is to say that Danny has plenty of experience with the stuff. Miasma is the stuff the the Infinite Realms are made of. It powers Spirits and Ghosts and Neverborns. A high enough concentration, like in Gotham, is like drinking four DynaPeps in one go without dying or other medical issues.

Gotham has so much miasma in it's air and water that Danny is honestly surprised that the G.I.W and their stupid trackers didn't clock the city well before they did Amity Park. He was also sure that him being here was passively cleaning it up, at least enough the the air should no longer have a green tint by the time he's finally allowed to leave.

All in all, keeping himself and Jason both intangible and invisible took almost no energy. Like taking a cup of water from the Pacific Ocean.

"At least they were nice enough to put us in the Penitentiary instead of Intensive Treatment." Jason said.

Danny looked at him even though neither could see each other. "You mean the place where all your Rogues waltz out of weekly?"

Jason huffed lightly. "They aren't my Rogues. They're B's Rogues."

"You wear a bat, though?"

"Same reason my name's Red Hood."

He nodded. "Got it."

"Do you?"

"Unless you wanna talk about it?"

"Not in a million years, weather boy."

Danny smirked and reached up to ruffle his hair. "You're learning, kid!"

"Stop that!" Jason smacked his arm away. "You're annoying."

"I get that a lot," he grinned.

The Penitentiary of Arkham Island was all high ceilings and narrow hallways. The ceilings were at least twenty feet up, painted with peeling white paint and stained with years of water and explosion damage. The walls were all made out of the same glass as their cells, letting them see into the many unlit, unoccupied cells lining the hallway. Every ten or so cells was a cement archway that was only about ten feet tall, the space above it being pure cement that had probably been white, once upon a time, but was now a sickly yellow color. The floor was the same smooth cement as the cells, though it was dark and only slightly warmer to touch than in the cells they'd woken up in. Hanging from each archway was a amber light, the white LEDs in the rest of the hallways had probably burned out a while ago.

"It's disgusting in here," Danny said, "No wonder this place is a damn prison."

Jason didn't say anything for a long moment. "It wasn't built to be a prison."

"Then someone must've changed the floor plan-"

"It was supposed to only house whoever the courts decided were criminally insane. They were supposed to be brought here to get better."

"Secluded from the rest of the world?"

"Yeah."

Danny hummed. "I can see the reasoning, but it obviously didn't work out. When'd this building get added on?"

Jason paused. Then, "Arkham Mansion was build just after The Joker showed his ugly face. When he was first brought in, the GCPD didn't have a place that could hold him, so they thought, 'Why not stick him on an out-of-the-way island. That way, he's only slightly our responsibility?' And then Uncle Harvey became Two-Face and got sent there, too. After that, the GCPD just kept sending criminals here. They never got better."

They let the unsettling quiet of the Penitentiary wash over them for a few minutes. They didn't really have audible footsteps, but Danny could hear Jason's breathing. He let himself breath just to prove that Jason wasn't alone.

Something told him that Jason had personal experience with this place.

Maybe exploring could wait a while. At least until he's alone.

"Do you wanna blow this popsicle stand?" he asked.

Jason scoffed. "And miss out on exploring this shit hole? No thanks."

"Hm. If you're sure."

They kept walking.

Eventually, they made it to the courtyard. The overgrown grass and weeds were all dead, dryer than sand even with the perpetual rainstorm over the island. There wasn't a fence, but the water damaged brick walls on all sides made it hard not to feel claustrophobic.

The back wall had four sliding glass doors spread evenly along it, two windows between each. The Northern and Southern most walls each only had a single double glass door, leading into different hallways than the one they came out of. The last set of double doors was flanked by crumbling planters.

They chose the last door and found themselves in a lobby. The floor was green granite, stained with what's probably blood and several other things. The chandelier had long since crashed to the ground, shattering it's lights and the chairs that had the misfortune of being under it. The doors leading to the rest of the Penitentiary were barely hanging on by a hinge each, and the furniture had been torn apart by the humans and animals that were stuck on the island. The entryway had probably been grand when it'd been first built, but it now left a lot to be desired, even if the ornate oak doors were still fully functional.

"I take it you've never been in the Penitentiary," Danny said.

"No," Jason said. He didn't elaborate. Danny didn't ask.

Outside was just as dreary as the courtyard, if not more so. The air was tinted greener than Gotham Proper and Danny had to fight a physical reaction at the sudden influx of energy he got just by opening the door. He wasn't gonna need a power boost for a long time.

"You good?" Jason asked, "You're vibrating.

Danny nodded. "It's a Ghost thing. I'm surprised you don't feel it."

"Feel what?"

"You seen the green?"

Jason stiffened. "The green?" His voice was quiet, tense.

Danny nodded. "The green in the air." He pointed to the gravel driveway. "That's supposed to be grayscale, right?"

"Yeah."

"Do you seen the green tint to it?"

Jason was quiet for a moment. Then, he exhaled heavily. "You can see it, too?"

He blinked. "Yeah..?"

"This is normal?"

"I wouldn't say normal. But for a place like Gotham? Yeah, it's pretty normal."

"Oh, thank god," Jason sighed. Danny could practically hear the weight lifting off his shoulders. "No one else ever said anything about it! I thought- I thought..."

"Thought what?"

"That the Pit..."

"That the Pit was still effecting you?"

"...yeah."

Danny smiled sadly. "Something like the Pit isn't gonna go away. It'll stop effecting you after a while, but it gives and it takes and it leaves only the worst in someone."

"What do you mean?"

"Humanity has grown to think that anger is the worst emotion a person can feel and act on. So, because that belief is such a large part of your learning, the Pit left you with only your anger when it brought you back."

"The Pit Madness." A beat. Two. "I wasn't angry. I mean, I was, in the beginning, but then I was just...sad."

"Grief is what makes you human. Mourning what was taken from you is the beginning of recovery."

Jason hummed. "You seem to know a lot about this."

"A story for another time, man," he said, "Come on, I wanna check out the Medical Facility!"

Part 10

#Stuck Here With Him #part 9 #dc x dp #danny phantom #dcu #arkham asylum #no ships #danny fenton #jason todd #world building!#yay!#dybapep is an actual brand and it has 714.3 mg of caffeine per fluid ounce #i've never had it and i don't think i want to try it #is this a good time to mention that i know almost nothing about Arkham Knight?#or Arkham Asylum #i found the map and looked up some reference photos but everything else is completely made up #i love harvey dent #(mostly from the dark knight series but that's because that's the version of him i know best)

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propenseverbosity · 1 day ago

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Spoilers for Eddie and Volt's story in Date Everything but I need to rant about this for a minute.

I get why Volt exists. Honestly if I got to that point where Eddie was, I'd be burned out too. (Hell, I did. And I was.)

Keeping the power stable is a full-time job in itself. Now that he's running the Breaker Box too, Eddie needs someone to run the bar, dazzle the crowd, command the stage, complete all the necessarily repairs to maintain the club, and have enough mental and physical energy left over to keep the damn lights on. He's only one man. All that on top of a faulty wire? He knows he can't keep up with all of it forever without fizzling out.

To fix this, he made Volt to pick up the slack. For both the house power and the Breaker Box, but it's become so much more than that. He made Volt to be the host because he's the personification of what Eddie thinks people want from him. Volt is handsome, charming, and likeable. He doesn't tire out as easily after a surge, doesn't need to take breaks between social interactions to recharge (or else he starts snapping at customers left and right) and he doesn't shy away from flirting with people he finds attractive.

Volt is Eddie's mask taken form. He's there to throw on a smile and flirt with the human often enough that they won't want to peek behind the curtain and see what a mess everything really is. All they see is a loose floorboard here, a cracked bulb there, and hidden beneath it all is Eddie, barely keeping it together.

After all, why would they ever want Eddie when they can have Volt? Eddie himself created Volt to be everything he wants to be. How could anyone not fall in love with that?

So when the human starts taking an interest in Eddie of all people, he's confused. They must be there for Volt, right? Everyone's there for Volt. No one actually shows up to the Breaker Box just to see Eddie. Not that Volt would allow that in the first place, especially if Eddie was resting that day.

(Half the dialogue options for that interaction involve asking him where Volt is, or mentioning they'll wait until Volt gets there and that just broke my heart. This man is not ready for anyone to take an interest in HIM.)

Because the human does, of course, like Volt too, but that doesn't make Eddie any less important to them. (They are truly a bonded pair, do not separate.) The human wants to make sure both of them are okay, and seeing Eddie hurt is hard for them. They want to help in any way they can, whether Eddie trusts their intentions or not.

Even during the repairs he's hesitant to trust them. After all, they're probably only helping him to get in good with Volt, right?

But then he opens up to them about his struggles, and they promise not to tell Volt about what's going on, and he realizes they really do care about him, and want to help the club.

THAT'S the reason he calls them Live Wire after the reset, because it's not really just Volt who calls them that, Volt is literally a subset of Eddie's existing personality.

The way I see it is more like how a circuit splits power from series to parallel. He created another version of himself during that split, but in terms of making that split power into A Person, he hand-picked certain aspects of his personality to give Volt so that people would like him. After the split, Volt kinda grew to become his own person, so their personalities would be sorta like a venn diagram. Eddie on one side, Volt on the other, and the intersection is the specific traits Eddie chose to give Volt.

And how could Eddie not fall in love with the person he created to protect him on his worst days?

Anyway thank you for coming to my TED Talk, I'm very normal about the breaker box tyvm

#date everything #date everything eddie #date everything volt #eddie and volt #date everything meta #I am so normal about this game

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codeword-art · 2 days ago

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I don't want this to come off as judgemental or like I'm personally attacking anyone that thinks differently about this specific scene, but I'm not going to lie and say I won't be a bit dramatic/harsh in these statements either. Ultimately I can sort of understand why some may think this is funny or humorous given similar jokes and scenes in other media, but to me personally, I don't. When Henry rescues Hans at Maleshov, and they're discussing the secret passageway and how Hans refuses to take it because of his claustrophobia, I don't think its funny to then physically assault Hans and drag him unconscious through the passageway anyway. Is it easier as a game mechanic, sure. If people are having a hard time getting through this quest the other way, I can understand simply making this option to just move on.

However, to me, that option is not acceptable under any other circumstance when RPing a good or neutral Henry. It'd be one thing if this scene was played humorously, like so many questlines in KCD and KCD2 are, but its not. If Henry presses Hans about not going through the passageway, he damn near has a panic attack, it's actually awful to watch. Hans is dead ass serious about his phobia, says the idea makes him nauseous, and he'd rather take his chances at the front gate. He is damn near close to crying here, while trying to make Henry understand. He is not doing well.

I understand this is frustrating, I'm not saying I wasn't frustrated at first either, from both a players and Henry's POV, but phobias are irrational fears that cannot be controlled, especially in 15th century Bohemia where therapy wasn't even a science yet. Hans has a good reason to be scared, he already was uncomfortable in tight spaces, and his fear was exacerbated during the "Finger of God" quest, and he hasn't really had any time to process what happened. He was immediately kidnapped and thrown into a tiny room with Brabant, of all people.

So to have Hans express this fear, lightly or seriously if pressed further by Henry, and then to think I'd immediately turn around and betray his trust and bodily autonomy to just make my quest objective easier, it's just gross to me. Hans is allowed to make that decision, no matter how annoying it is in the moment.

Also Henry is already weirdly written out of character here anyway, in my opinion. The non-romance options are just weird.

If it was the only choice to make, or if the second option had worse negative outcomes that'd be one thing, but it's just a little more sneaking around a subjectively easy area with light patrol.

Now again, I understand this is just my opinion. I don't think people are monsters for taking this option towards a fictional video game character. I know people like to play evil Henry, or depending on the conversation you have with Hans, some players may not even realize how serious Hans in being here, and surface level it's an objectively easier choice to make. If you're just trying to get through the quest, doing a speedrun, mistakenly misinterpret the scene, or whatever that's fine. We all play differently, I just don't think the choice itself overall is a funny, "Ha-ha, jokes on you Hans."

Also, I think this should lock Henry out of his romance. If I relayed a fear to a dear friend or partner and they actively force me through that fear, especially by choking me out? Yeah, were done. Relationship is over. Hans is far better than I am in that circumstance.

#hans capon #kcd2 #kingdom come deliverance 2 #henry of skalitz #hansry

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sha-brytols · 4 hours ago

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dude i mean in theory it would have genuinely been so cool to see both felassan and solas come to terms with the modern elves in two completely different ways right. felassan spending more time with the city elves who he might believe have been completely cut off from their culture and now live as hollowed out versions of what the elves once were, but learning eventually over time how much resilience and love and Strength it takes to live this kind of life and still strive for something better, and that's where he decides to focus on helping the city elves

and then subsequently solas spending more time with dalish (im using lavellan as an example specifically because them being dalish plays such a big role in that dynamic, but like even without a lavellan inquisitor his story revolves SOOO much about restoring elven glory so?) and going from deriding them as pretentious glory-seekers who only value the """aesthetic""" of elvhenan to understanding everything they've lost as a result of HIS actions and how even despite that they're still here digging their feet to the ground and refusing to conform, determined to preserve the culture that's been stolen from them. which like. living in active rebellion from the people who seek to mold you into their image is EXACTLY what solas was fighting for. it could have been soooo sick

how do you introduce all of these obvious pieces by complete accident i simply don't understand . like yeah sure white canadian centrism but 😭😭😭😭 dude the bioware writers shift so left this should be legitimately fucking impossible to do by accident unless you just legitimately hate indigenous people (who they have admitted were inspiration for the dalish. not like that isn't obvious but im covering my bases in case someone decides to get wacky with me) like it's not just racism it is literally cartoonishly ghoulish racism

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vaginalvr · 3 days ago

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hi theree

I was thinking about one fic w Reid where he and Reader are they're in his house (and drunk) and reader starts to tease him a lot because Reid is very shy around reader and he says "I'm just someone's friend, someone's coworker, someone's son." and reader says to him, "And you want to be someone's dad?" and what starts as a provocation that leads to Reid being sub ends with Reid being quite needy and rude. Sorry if it's too specific and thanks for reading 🤭

content warning: Alcohol use, teasing/flirting, dom/sub dynamics (Reader dom, Spencer sub/bratty), oral sex (m!receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, light degradation (name-calling, slut), praise kink, slight identity angst, needy!Reid, semi-public risk (window), degradation/praise mix

a/n: this is disgusting do u like it plz say yes bye

word count ~ 2.5k

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Spencer’s apartment is too warm, too cluttered, and too full of half-drunk wine glasses, but you’re too tipsy to care. He’s sitting stiffly on the couch next to you, fingers white-knuckling the stem of his wineglass, as if letting go would make the room tip sideways.

You’re not much better off. You’re laughing too easily, letting your knees brush his when you shift, and you know it—how he squirms every time you lean in too close, how his gaze lingers on your mouth but darts away just as quickly.

“You really don’t drink much, do you?” you ask, swirling your glass lazily.

“I do. Occasionally. It’s just... rarely socially,” he says, blinking hard, trying to focus. “I’m better at sober parties.”

You snort. “Spencer, this isn’t a party. It’s me, in your house, with wine and takeout and one of those documentaries you love that I pretend to understand.”

He looks like he wants to argue but doesn’t, because you’re not wrong.

There’s a lull—quiet but charged. Spencer takes a long sip. His lips are wet and trembling, and your eyes linger.

He notices.

“What?” he asks softly.

“You’re so tense,” you murmur, tipping your head toward his shoulder. “You know you don’t have to be, right?”

“I’m not tense,” he lies, cheeks flushing pink.

You press your thigh against his. “You act like you’re about to run away every time I look at you for more than three seconds.”

“That’s—” he starts, flustered. “That’s not true.”

You grin. “Oh, baby. It so is.”

He swallows hard. You lean closer. He still doesn’t move.

“I think you’re scared of me,” you whisper, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Or maybe you’re just scared of what you want from me.”

His eyes flutter shut for a second. You can practically hear the gears grinding in that big beautiful brain of his. Calculating, rationalizing, denying.

And then he sighs, broken and small.

“I’m just... someone’s friend. Someone’s coworker. Someone’s son.”

The words are so pitiful, so cracked with self-loathing, you stop teasing for just a second. There it is—what he really believes. That he’s an extra in everyone’s story. A background character, even in his own life.

You don’t let the silence linger.

You tip your head, just enough to look him square in the eye, and murmur, “And you want to be someone’s dad?”

His whole body stiffens. The wineglass clinks slightly as his grip wavers. His mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. He looks wrecked.

“What—what does that mean?” he asks hoarsely.

You give a slow, dangerous smile. “You want to be inside me and fill me up like it’s your job. You want to pin me down and fuck me stupid and make me beg you for more. You want to come so deep it drips down my thighs. That’s what it means.”

Spencer makes a sound—somewhere between a gasp and a whimper. His legs clench together. His hand twitches.

You reach over, pluck the wineglass from his hand, and set it down on the table. Then you climb onto his lap.

“You’re not just someone’s son,” you murmur against his lips. “You’re mine. If I want you.”

You grind down, just enough to feel the strain in his jeans.

And god, he’s already hard.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “You can’t just say things like that.”

“I can,” you say sweetly. “Because I know what it does to you.”

His hands hover, shaking, near your hips. You let him sit there, trembling, aching for permission.

“Touch me,” you order, and his hands fly to your thighs.

“Good boy.”

The words hit him like a truck. His breath catches, and he bucks his hips without thinking.

“Oh, Spence,” you coo. “You like that?”

“Please,” he breathes, desperate.

You rock your hips once, grinding your clothed core against his bulge. He shudders.

“I bet you’ve thought about this,” you say, dragging your nails down his chest. “Me on top of you. Calling you names. Making you beg.”

“Y-Yes,” he admits, red-faced.

“Calling you my little slut?”

“God,” he gasps. “Please don’t stop.”

You lean in and kiss him, slow and filthy, tongue teasing the corner of his mouth until he opens up and lets you in. He moans—soft and sweet at first, then deeper, hungrier.

But he doesn’t stay soft.

No, Spencer gets rude.

His hands, once tentative, start to grip tighter. His mouth gets messier, teeth scraping your lip like he’s starved. He grinds up harder, more deliberate.

“Need to be inside you,” he mutters, almost angrily. “Now.”

“Oh, so needy,” you purr, shifting off his lap to unbutton your jeans. “You always get this bratty when someone gives you what you want?”

“I want more,” he growls. “Want all of you. Want to fuck you until you can’t walk.”

“Spencer,” you chide, but your voice wavers, because fuck—that switch in him is devastating.

He yanks his jeans open and fists his cock out in seconds—long, flushed, already dripping. You don’t waste time. You straddle him again, bare now, and take him in one slow slide that has both of you gasping.

“Oh god,” he cries. “You feel so—fuck.”

You roll your hips, letting him hit every spot he never thought he’d get to.

“I always knew you’d be tight,” he pants, thrusting up. “Knew you’d take me so good. Always teasing. Always looking at me like you wanted to sit on my cock during meetings.”

“And you’d just sit there and twitch,” you whisper, riding him faster. “Too scared to do anything. Just someone’s friend.”

“Not anymore,” he snarls. “Not your friend. Your fucktoy.”

You moan at that. Because he means it.

He’s bouncing you on his cock like he owns you now, filthy and feral, dragging bruises into your hips and biting your shoulder.

“God, I love you like this,” you gasp.

“Then let me come inside you,” he begs. “Let me make a mess of you.”

You shove your hand between your legs and rub fast circles, chasing your own high.

“I’m close,” you whimper.

“Come on my cock. Be a good girl and come for me.”

That does it. You clench hard around him, crying out his name as your orgasm hits. And Spencer loses it. He groans, cock pulsing deep inside you as he fills you up just like he promised.

After, you’re a tangle of limbs, still straddling him, both of you sweaty and shaking and breathless.

Spencer laughs—giddy and raw.

“I said I’m just someone’s son,” he mutters.

“And now?” you ask, brushing sweaty curls off his forehead.

“Now,” he smirks, voice rough, “I’m someone’s problem.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem reader

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