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dantesdickferno · 4 months

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amaretto

Miguel/Reader | Explicit | Chapter 1/?

a/n: I brought this blog back from the dead to post this so I hope y’all enjoy. Gonna be a few chapters but not sure how many yet. Femdom reader, Bartender Miguel basically. Horny and angsty modern NYC AU, no powers. Bit of a slow burn (ish). Enjoy lol

***

The Basilica is, for all intents and purposes, a mediocre bar.

There’s a pothole steps away from the bar’s entrance that customers have to maneuver past in kitten heels and designer sneakers, and the embossed metal sign at the front of the door is almost completely covered in rust. It’s clearly an establishment that’s too pretentious to be a dive bar, but not exactly up to code enough to be an upscale cocktail bar either.

Recent attempts to rebrand the place as a hole-in-the-wall speakeasy have been successful, meaning that it’s now the common haunt for every art history graduate student, Bauhaus enthusiast, and unattainably gorgeous bisexual poet in lower Manhattan who’s willing to spend 17 dollars on a drink.

You stumble across the small chipped navy blue door after a brutal day at work. The patrons at the luxury handbag store you have the distinct displeasure of interacting with were particularly snippy today, and your pair of not-yet-broken-in oxfords feel more like a prison than a fashion statement at the moment. You need a drink to help forget the past ten hours ever happened just so you can do it all over again tomorrow. You’ve never heard of this place, but you don’t feel like getting on the subway just yet and looking for a bar that’s closer to home. This vaguely sketchy place will have to do.

The cozy interior of The Basicilia smells of cigar smoke and melting wax. Lit partially by candlelight, the brick walls and small antique cherrywood tables feel distant, yet homey. There are large gothic-style lanterns hanging from the low ceiling, and servers expertly move through the crowd carrying stainless steel trays full of thick-cut fries and bowls of green olives.

Despite the bar being relatively full, only one other person is sitting at the actual bar when you approach it—everyone else appears to be relegated to the various tables and benches strewn about the space, or hugging the walls holding glasses of craft beer.

With all of the fuss that sitting down on a stool, pulling off your winter coat, and hanging your things on a hook underneath the bar causes, it takes you a moment for you to see him.

But you do.

There’s a blur of movement in the corner of your vision as a tall man in a black button-down with rolled-up sleeves vaults over the bar wall and stalks over to the other end of the restaurant before knocking on a solid black door with the sole of his boot.

“Hey! You awake in there? They need help running food!” The man shouts, not waiting for a response before rushing back across the room and climbing back into the bar.

The sound draws a few eyes, but no one appears to be shocked—it seems to be a common occurrence here, judging by the way the person who appears to be the manager steps out of the previously kicked door looking bleary-eyed and sheepish, a pair of noise-canceling headphones around his neck and a set of keys jangling at his belt.

But your attention has been drawn elsewhere.

The man is tall enough to reach for a bottle of Belvedere vodka on the top shelf to hand to a nearby barback without straining. You notice his hands first—broad, veiny, with nails cut down to the bone. There’s a bandage wrapped around the middle finger on his left hand. A smattering of hair on his triceps, which are all muscle and sinew. And two tattoos—-a fang on his right bicep, and a bundle of marigolds on his left forearm. He leans onto the bar table to address you, his button-down snug around his chest.

Jesus fucking christ. If you had a drink you would certainly spill it.

“What are you getting,” he says—his voice raw from shouting, you assume—and his voice trends downward at the end of the sentence, as if he doesn’t want to ask you, as if it isn’t a question. You can’t even pretend to be offended—working in the service industry is a thankless task, and you know that well enough. But even you can admit that the level of tension in his jaw and the shuttered look in his eyes is disconcerting in a way that has to do with more than the fact that he presumably hates his job.

“A mojito, please,” you say, with less confidence than you’d normally have. You’re used to sitting at bars alone and making conversation with the bartenders, but tonight doesn’t seem to be going in that direction.

“A mojito?” The man repeats, and you know it’s the wrong choice somehow. Other than an almost imperceptible eye roll, he nods, turning his back to you to grab the right ingredients.

Still. It makes you curious.

“What’s wrong with a mojito?” you ask, watching the way his shoulders stiffen. It’s like his entire being is on constant guard, waiting for the other shoe to drop–you can see it in the way he turns back to look at you, his jaw set as he sets down a collins glass and starts picking damp mint sprigs out of a chilled metal container.

“First time here?” he says, and again, it isn’t a question. He places the mint leaves on a paper towel to dry before rubbing them on the rim of the collins glass and putting them in a separate pint glass.

“Yeah. What’s wrong with a mojito?” Normally you’d take your cue from the bartender and quit trying to make conversation, but something about him makes you want to poke and meddle, like touching a live wire with the tip of your finger.

“Nothing.”

“I won’t get offended. Is this one of those ‘what your drink of choice says about you’ things?” you probe, leaning onto the bar top. The other conversations seem to fade to a lull in the background of your mind, your sights set on tormented brown eyes and tense, broad shoulders.

“No.”

“Because that kind of seems like what this is—”

“No.”

“Then what is it? If you don’t mind me asking. I hope I’m not committing a major bar crime, or something.” He clearly minds, and the sigh he lets out is nothing short of torturous sounding, but he seems to indulge you anyway. You briefly register his hands reaching for various cups and bottles at an even tempo, his movements intentional as he makes your cocktail. He crushes mint and lime and sugar together with a blunt tool before opening a carafe of ice. A shiver runs through you, completely against your will, as you watch him work. You’ve always had a soft spot for competence.

“It’s more of a practical thing,” he explains, and you settle onto your stool, sensing a tangent incoming. “Mojitos aren’t complicated to make, but they take time. They have a lot of moving parts. And then once one person orders it, I get ten more people who saw me making it asking for it too, and I have to start the process over again. And then more people order it, and next thing you know I’m making mojitos for the rest of the night.”

“So when I ask for mojitos at other bars and they say they’re out of mint, are they lying?” you tease. He places your drink in front of you then, topping it off with a mint spring and a lime wedge at the rim of the glass.

“...Every bartender hates you,” he says in response, leaning in, and you give him a soft smile, sipping from the glass. It’s one of the best drinks you’ve ever had.

There isn’t an ounce of enjoyment to be seen in his eyes, or in the shadows of his face. But you swear you see a flicker of something there, like something that has long since lain dormant coming back to life—if only for a second–before it dissipates.

“What’s your name?” you ask, pushing your luck. Any spark that had once been lit is extinguished. He backs away, the lanterns from overhead casting shadows across his features that make him look like a stranger again. You silently curse yourself.

“I don’t do that,” he shakes his head, before venturing to the other end of the bar to help a seemingly new bartender whip up a martini. You wait patiently, watching the way his mouth moves and his hands gesture as he corrects the bartender on their…technique, or something. You have no idea. From afar, he looks equally as intimidating, if not more so. The lines of his body don’t indicate any kind of softness, and his shoulders are slightly hunched as if he’s ashamed of himself. You wonder if he does bicep curls in a concrete room for hours until he sweats out all of the vulnerability. Or maybe he runs from it, in the early morning, breath labored and lungs aching until his sneakers are worn out.

“You don’t do names?” you ask him as soon as he returns, and his time he doesn’t even pretend to hide his exasperation, rolling his eyes again before resting his elbows on the bar so that his face is inches away from yours. Your heart lurches. A quick glance around rewards you with a few of the patrons regarding you with a vague amount of interest—and concern.

“Listen. I’m not a therapy session bartender,” he says with enough disdain to cause your eyebrows to raise in surprise. “I like the theory of it. The drink making. That’s it. Talk to that guy,” he continues, gesturing to a fellow bartender with a man bun and gauges who’s currently chatting up the only other person sitting on the other end of the bar. “He’s chatty.”

This close-up, you can see the dark circles around his eyes, his slightly chapped lips. You get a brief urge to trace the wrinkles across his forehead with the pads of your fingertips, but you hold off, of course. The man seems like he’s too old for anyone. He’s lived a million lifetimes.

“I don’t want to talk to that guy,” you say, feeling emboldened. I want to talk to you. “No offense.”

Something in his expression flickers back to life once more, like a butterfly trying to fly without one of its wings.

“Miguel,” he says after a while, sounding pained. You tell him your name, and he gives no indication that he’s registered it.

“Do you wanna open a tab, or close it?” Miguel asks then, and his voice sounds weightier.

“...Keep it open.”

***

The bar is sweltering, but the cold, sour tang of the mojito keeps you cool as you watch Miguel make his way across the bar to help mix drinks for other patrons. You feel pinned to your stool somehow, like a bug under a microscope, even though Miguel doesn’t spare another glance in your direction. The music in here is alright, but not noteworthy. You wish you had someone to dance with.

The bartender with the man bun makes you another mojito before you can say otherwise, but it tastes different somehow. Too much mint maybe. Not enough bitterness. Miguel’s theory seems to be wrong; you scan the bar for other tall glasses with sprigs of bright green mint and find none. After brief consideration, you decide not to bother him any further by informing him of this fact.

The bar gets increasingly more crowded as the night goes on, and it becomes abundantly clear that Miguel isn’t going to check on you again. You want to believe it’s because he’s too busy, but you wonder if you made the wrong impression somehow. You wonder why you care. You hate that you do.

You settle your tab and gather your things before buttoning your coat and setting off into the night. Your two drinks have muddled your senses just so, but not enough to be completely disorienting. On the precipice of happy, maybe.

As you zip your coat up to your chin and walk down the sidewalk, you think about going home to your studio apartment and cuddling with your cat Cinnamon. You think about hopefully getting a few hours of sleep before the workday comes back around in the morning to swallow you whole once again. You think about the harsh line of Miguel’s jaw, about the fact that he’ll likely forget about you come morning.

“Every bartender hates me,” you repeat to yourself—a truly harrowing fact—before shaking your head and walking down the steps into the subway.

a/n: lmk if you enjoyed/if you wanna see more—mwah x

#dom reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel smut #miguel 2099 #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv fic #atsv fandom #across the spid #sub miguel o'hara

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frostycatblr-fandom-files · 1 year

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Sorry, Wrong Comms! : Hunter x Medic!Reader [Chapter 4]

Gif chosen for the bandages on his left shoulder just like in the fic, but he’d have to lose the top to be more fic-accurate lol

Warnings & Information: Intended audience is 13+ (18 if you squint.) Star Wars and real world swearing. More lighthearted chapter than 3. Tryin' real hard to avoid certain fanon characterizations of the Batchers. This whole series is absolutely RIFE with my personal headcanons. Chapter mentions use of "bastardized-Mando'a" for the purpose of having a secret conversation, but translatable words are used. References to medical paraphernalia: stitches, bacta, etcetera. Hunter is strongly implied to be shirtless for the whole chapter. References to medical and recreational drugs. [It took me an embarrassingly long time to finally understand what "spice" was often slang for. There's so much lore to keep track of lmao.] Medic!Reader is invited to have dinner with the Batchers. Hurt and comfort in various forms take place. Brief implications of Medic!Reader having her own bad memories of war and related injuries but it's kept vague. Brief, strong implications of the brothers' having PTSD tendencies. Chapter ends on a light note, I promise.

Word-count: 6,360

Fwreep! Fwreep! Fwre-

"Hush, you." [____] scolded her equipment, mashing the button to silence the alert. She was tired, the inevitable adrenaline crash had finally taken hold and she wanted to do little else than jump into a short shower cycle and then hit the spare cot for fifteen minutes or so in the cramped back room of her clinic that served as an office, chemical lab (and a panic room in the worst cases back when she dealt with the pirates). Hunter had been saved, scanned, sent home about three and a half hours ago, and put on a strict regimen of rest and a short course of antiemetics, painkillers and sleeping aids once the transfusion was completed and he'd had half a carton of jogan juice for his blood sugar levels.

After they had gone home so Hunter could get some rest (and told he should have some type of lean red meat or eggs if he felt he could eat something), [____] had decided she might as well open the clinic to the public for the rest of the day, even as tired as she now was.

She just had to wait another minute for the analysis to finalize for an elderly Kel Dor client, and then she could have a half-hour on that thin, stiff mattress before she'd have the energy to make it through the last two hours of business and then make her way home. She'd wash up then, she told herself. Better water pressure and the perfect temperature settings waiting for her. Yeah… that sounded nice. Maker, she was so tired, but the energy spent to save Hunter had been well worth it. The analysis looked good enough and passable for the Kel Dor's health to visit their native planet, so she made a note to send a message in the morning, mind otherwise occupied with the events aboard the Marauder; she and the second skin of bacta she slathered on the sergeant had likely found everything. Hunter would be fine. His brothers and sister were going to take good care of him.

She'd done a good job, ignoring the rookie mistakes. He was probably, hopefully resting now. She could probably do the same and allow herself to sleep were it not for a comlink and a single three-syllable chirp shortly after she hit the cot and closed her eyes, tugging a blanket just up to her shoulder.

Oh, stars: that was Omega's calling-quirk.

She sat up slightly, elbow bent at a lazy angle to prop herself up just enough to keep her head off the pillow. Keep herself from falling asleep. "Omega? What's the matter?"

"Hunter recently woke up from his nap and won't take the medicine."

Perhaps selfishly, [____] tried shifting the burden of help to someone else, not quite yet pulling the thin, scratchy blanket from around her body as she sat up a bit more. Maybe Omega was having a little difficulty doing this on her own and just called her on the comlink in a panic. "Can you get Tech to do it, hun?" Tech had it handled, she was sure. Maybe Omega just needed a little advice and then she could have a thirty minute snooze. No such luck.

"Tech already tried…" Omega's voice was in a high whine, unassured. "Hunter wouldn't listen to him."

The blanket was now off and she was fully upright. Would asking Crosshair and all his occasional stubbornness be worth stressing Hunter? No, not a good idea. Could Wrecker be persuaded to make a brief show of strength to encourage Hunter to take the medicine under his own power? Unlikely. Echo… well, she could hear the ARC's voice in a rumble of speech with or to Hunter, but couldn't pick out any words. He was probably trying to bargain with their leader, if [____] had to make a guess. Talk sense into him. Something. She didn't know why Hunter wasn't taking the medicine, she realized. And now it'd just be easier to go and see why for herself; her concern and curiosity and sense of duty to her profession was too high to ignore now. Maybe there was something she missed… something that was hurting Hunter that she hadn't yet treated? Some means of comfort she didn't yet provide?

"I'll be there soon."

Memories of that night a week ago were coming back to her: Cross opened the blastdoor for her when she reached the stoop. She squeezed inside past him. He offered her a blue ration bar and glass of water (citing that Tech had taken notice of (and kindly cleaned up for her) the hastily abandoned stew, meaning she'd never finished lunch). He'd be waiting for her in the common room.

She made her way to the common room, uncertain what she would find.

Hunter was collapsed slightly spread-eagle into the furniture, half dressed, and looking clammy and miserable. The position could have been described as lordly if he didn't look so unwell. There was a faraway look in his eyes under bunched brows and the light rasp of his breath. The medicine she'd given him aboard the Marauder had likely begun to wear off (he likely metabolized it differently due to his genetic profile, something she hadn't gotten around to asking Tech about and merely theorized) and the now-late dosage of the prescribed coursework was set on the low table, waiting. He was probably beginning to feel the pain and didn't seem to realize she was there.

Omega rushed the medic in a flash from some unknown area of their housing, dashing across the room in great relief. "[____]! You're here!"

Wrapping her arms around the youngster, the urgent hug was returned with warmth and comfort. Reassurance. "Hey-hey, easy sweetie. It's okay. I'm here to help as long as Hunter needs me."

"What about your clinic since you decided to open for a part of the day? These are still your standard hours of operation-" Tech checked his statement against information on his datapad, forgoing a greeting and expressing some of his concerns, which didn't bother the shared friend of the Batch, "- so do you have any kind of proper signage that you are not available to potential patients now that you're back on the planet?"

"Heh… yes, Tech, I made sure to turn on my sign that I'm on a house-call. Don't worry. I didn't forget this time, so there won't be any negative reviews to scrub from the Holonet tonight." She let go of Omega, grabbing a little penlight and the medicine canisters from the table, asking for Echo to start dimming half of the overhead lights for her so Hunter would no longer have to squint.

"I-I've done no such thing, [____]," Tech offered unconvincingly, the usual crisp eloquence of his voice faltering. "That would be-"

She hardly ever interrupted Tech, but for once it couldn't be helped; her laugh was light and bubbly, catching him by surprise. "You know that I know, Tech. It's okay. Now… let's see if we can't find a way to get Hunter to take his medicine now that I'm here. Thanks for the water, Cross. Just set the ration bar in my bag for now, please. Since you guys put all his medicine on the table I just need to make sure I've picked up the right two…" she flicked the portable light source over the labels of the medicine, the painkiller and anti-emetic. "yup- perfect. Just what I need."

"Who's tha'? ...a-ad'ika?" Hunter mumbled drowsily, wincing in the soft halo of light from the thin cylindrical device in her hand. Before setting it down, she turned off the light and began pinching open the blister-packaging to the painkiller. "Sorry; hey, it's me, big guy. A little someone tells me we're not taking our medicine. What's going on, Hunter? Pain medication wearing off? Queasy?" He was looking a little disoriented and confused, fresh out of a restless sleep typical of the medicines she'd administered. "No, jus'... not really? Oh, [____]... Wh-when did y'get here?"

Hunter's confused and woozy smile was to be expected, the medicine cocktails tended to alter one's demeanor and awareness, but stars, if it wasn't at least a little cute seeing him perk up like this at the sight of her. He looked so deliriously delighted once he realized who it was. "Not too long ago. Came because Omega made it sound like everyone needed a little help with you and I wanted to see how I could help."

"Oh…" Hunter started, sounding surprised.

"Shh, take it easy-" She pushed back on his chest carefully, avoiding the large patch of gauze and stitching hidden underneath it, and Hunter realized he had been trying to get up; her hand burned with the coldness of her clinic against his warm, bare skin. The chill felt so welcome against the almost uncomfortable warmth he was feeling - it's why he'd peeled himself out of the top half of his blacks no matter how many times Crosshair dressed and redressed him. Was it the start of fever? Or simply just more side effects of the good doctor's medicine? His senses simply just overstimulated? Why did keeping on his top matter so much regarding ifs about popping a stitch with them uncovered or not: [____] was just a comlink away to come and take care of it. She was a good baar'ur… anyone would be lucky to have someone as sweet as her for a medic.

A sweet, lovely woman… Good and kind [____].

"Take it easy, Hunter… let's have one of your brothers help you if you want to sit up before you take your medicine. You're pretty out of it, still, have to be gentle with your movement, okay?"

Hunter obliged obediently, just looking at her and Crosshair as he stepped around one of the other brothers to come closer. Mostly [____]. "Are you saying Hunter's stoned?" Crosshair mused lazily, a smile dragging in those words over the doctor's shoulder before he lifted the upper half of Hunter's body from the backrest of the furniture by his armpits. Cross was kind and said nothing about the bit of sweat that his hands came away with once Hunter was sitting up. (He'd tease his brother for looking so gross when they had company over when he was feeling better another time, perhaps.)

"Sedated would be more accurate, medically speaking… but yeah, I guess it does rather look a lot like being stoned. Doesn't look like we're getting much free entertainment like some Weequay pilots who told me they used a little too much spices in their cooking about fifteen rotations ago, though." There were some stifled chuckles from Tech, Echo and Cross around her, and Wrecker boomed with unabashed laughter, to her great confusion. She didn't think her light teasing of the semi-stoic sergeant was that funny. "W-what's so funny, boys?"

Crosshair burst the bubble for their friend, careful not to roll his eyes in a way that made it appear like annoyance of her naïvety. "Those pilots weren't talking about culinary spices, doll. Spice pirates deal in drugs. They probably pulled one of the oldest tricks in the book: lying to the medic about what kind of spices they put in the spice-cookie. It's slang."

[____] just blinked stupidly up at the stoic marksman. "R-really?" Was he messing with her? He didn't look like he was messing with her. (Was he messing with her and just had the galaxy's best poker face?) "You're… b-being serious with me, right?" Crosshair nodded plainly.

"Did you really not know?" Tech asked incredulously.

"N-no! I thought it was exotic or illegal ingredients this whole kriffing time…" she admitted, feeling so foolish. This whole time she thought spice smugglers dealt in illegal and rare or unusual culinary ingredients. Stars, how embarrassing!

"Well… if it makes you feel any better, maybe there are pirates out there who are carrying food spices across the galaxy. Yuh never know." Wrecker offered, giving Tech a pointed look when he had put up a finger to say something on that in that clipped voice of his. "Maybe, uh… m-maybe they're like supply runners! Getting spices from someone's homeworld tha' they can't find anywhere else when they feel homesick. A taste of home does someone some good." The idea of it sounded kinda sweet when Wrecker put it like that, something he was good at. He was always so good at trying to find ways to cheer up one of his brothers before they took Omega in as one of their own, and since she'd joined their fold, he'd gotten better at it, according to Crosshair's admittance in-confidence some time ago. (But if the medic told anyone he said that, Cross warned her he would likely deny it if only to spur on his bigger brother to try to refine the quality even further.)

Finally turning her attention back to Hunter, who had been sitting up with just a slight wobble in the last few minutes, [____] emptied the packet into the palm of her hand, producing two pearlescent blue pills that would keep the pain's edge dull and nipping at his heels with puppy teeth instead of fangs. "Here, let's start with the painkillers first. Unless you want to take the anti-emetic so you don't risk feeling like you're about to waste the oral painkillers."

Hunter looked mildly panicked about that possibility, the richness of his warm eyes lost in a worry he hadn't considered until now. The guilt, the embarrassment, for throwing up in Cross's arms before they had made it to the clinic flared up yet again. "The e-emetic…"

"Okay, we'll take the anti-emetic instead then. Probably should have started with it first anyways. Here… let's get this one open and ready for ya." Speaking soothingly, [____] tucked the pearlescent medicine back into its torn packaging and picked up the other, keeping her voice within that casual cadence. "Just have to let this one dissolve under your tongue; like the melt-away I gave Omega." Distrustful or disgusted looks regarding the thin off-white tablet fell away quickly, and the leader of Clone Force 99 took the prescription item from the medic and tucked it under the fleshy muscle as demonstrated. "Good, just like that. Shouldn't take long to dissolve under your tongue, then we can try these to keep that pain under control."

"Tas'es funny…" Hunter mumbled carefully, afraid to disturb the dissolving puddle of moistened powder sitting under his tongue. She picked the datapad off her belt clip, glancing over the prescribed coursework for something. "Ah, let's see here… Not a big fan of the candy-like flavoring? I'm afraid it was the only one I had available to prescribe for the time, sorry Hunter. If you don't like it, I'll make a note to avoid it in the future."

Hunter started to shrug, but felt the stitching on his left shoulder begin to tug unpleasantly with the motion and quickly abandoned that. "Mmp… 's fine…" It wasn't that bad, he could tolerate it - he didn't want to trouble her over something trivial after everything else. [____] delicately pecked her fingers along the screen of her datapad for just a moment longer, and then clipped it back to her belt without a word, picking up the painkillers and gingerly planting them into his palm. He was quickly stopped by her clamping her free hand above his when he began to pull it back as she reached behind her and grabbed the glass Crosshair had gotten from the kitchen for her to take a small swig of water. "...whu's wrong?"

"Maybe don't dry-swallow those; they're a rapid dissolve formula. Here… borrow some of my water." [____] held the cup she just drank from out to him, and both carefully ignored Crosshair's teasing quip about indirect kissing when Hunter carefully swallowed down the pair of pills with just enough water. Taking the cup back, she and Cross helped Hunter settle back against the backrest once more and made a note of the time. "Alrighty, good job big guy. I'll keep an eye on you while we wait for that to kick in, you just get comfortable. Let me know if something's still painful in about… ten minutes or so." Hunter nodded lazily, leaning his head back with a weary sigh. His nerves were still so overwhelmed- screaming, frayed and buzzing from the injuries and procedures carried out to treat them. His body ached and he sat there hoping the medicine would give him relief soon.

"It's okay; fall asleep if you want to. If you can." [____] offered the permission softly, sounding strangely far away for being on the two-seater just a few feet away with Omega while hearing some of his brothers leave the common room. With careful effort Hunter lifted his head from the backrest and glanced over at sister and friend, seeing the former curled into the latter's side with Lula under one arm, studying the datapad with the medic.

"What's this mean?" Omega inquired, brows pinching together in a scrutinizing expression that looked a lot like one of Echo's scowls for an amusing moment.

[____] laughed softly, a short oh! falling from her lips when she saw what his sister was pointing out. "That's just an unholy mix of a bunch of my personal jargon with the official medical jargon for the kinds of sutures I gave your brother. They're absorbable, meaning he won't have to come back to my clinic to have them removed. Now think back: do you remember what monofilament means?"

While Omega was puzzling over the datapad for just a moment, the silence allowed the medic to tear open the wrapping to the food she'd been offered and eat it before it became forgotten and smushed among the items of her medbag. "Single strand structure. Like Tech's when you removed the shrapnel." Omega stated matter-of-factly, trying to emulate Tech's speech pattern. It made the medic chuckle before threading her fingers through the blond crop of hair under her chin with her free hand, setting down the half eaten blue travel-ration to do so. Omega adored having her hair played with by those she trusted. The intimacy and care behind such a gesture was proof to the brothers, drugged and undrugged alike in the room, that [____] was truly perfect for her profession.

Care for one of their own, and you had the rest wrapped around your finger.

"Hey, [____]!" Wrecker called from the kitchen. "Stay for dinner with us! How do you like your meat?"

The medic balked for a moment, looking surprised by the sudden invitation. "St-stay for dinner? Are you sure? I'd-"

"Awh, 'course! Got enough Kommerken steaks for everyone! Been dying to have these for a while now." Wrecker promised, flashing a jovial smile in the doorway. "You're probably gonna have to stay here to watch Hunter for a while after those ten minutes, right?" If he pointed this out, she'd surely agree to stay for dinner, and then some. Perhaps a game of Dejarik or a round of Sabacc if they could convince her.

"Well, not necessarily in the way you're probably thinking…? I don't have to engage in any additional medical observation at this point. He'd be plenty fine in your capable hands between the five of you once I've headed home- and sure, I'll stay for dinner - I have faith in you guys." Sniper and ARC trooper shared a glance at Hunter, and then each other as she followed Wrecker into their kitchen. They knew they were thinking the same thing as Wrecker explained and showed the difference in the done-ness of the Kommerken steaks he could prepare for [____] with unfettered glee. They were probably going to have to tell her.

Wrecker had told him that he let the Loth-cat out of the bag, but Echo knew that she didn't have the full picture.

Hunter's often borderline-paranoid avoidant nature when it came to discomfort and conflict.

The way he would run from as many problems as he faced. How he gave the clinic a wide berth unless absolutely unavoidable sometimes. How Hunter hesitated getting involved in directly confronting the Empire like Captain Rex every time it came up in conversation with Echo, and how Hunter dug in his heels on keeping the squad together when he expressed to Hunter wanting to do something to help their deserting brothers. The excessive caution that became stifling if he or Crosshair did not provide a little pushback when the time called for it. While he was often an excellent leader, he was terrible about dealing with emotional and mental discomfort since the safety net of the GAR was cut from under his feet on Kaller.

And it was holding him back from telling [____] himself about how he really felt.

There'd be little chance she'd understand something outside of common phrases, so Echo figured perhaps some use of bastardized-Mando'a would be safe to use with the medic within earshot. "Gar ganar at rejorhaa'ir kaysh, vod." You have to tell her, brother.

A befuddled "Huh?" was all Hunter could think to say in response to the rough and mispronounced Mando'a. Tell her what? What was Echo getting at?

"Wrecker told her, aboard the Marauder," Echo whispered, squatting slightly to bring himself to Hunter's current eye level. "How you feel. A cuun burc'ya ru'kir susulur bic teh gar." But their friend should hear it from Hunter. The confession from his own lips and heart where he could finish pining over her in unspoken feelings and finally, finally, finally tell her. "Tell her, or I will. Or, I'll let Cross do it." Echo threatened in half seriousness, watching Hunter pale with realization.

"Oh goody, that would be fun, wouldn't it, Hunter?" Crosshair sneered, voice like poisoned honey in mischievous glee. For just a moment, Echo couldn't be sure if Cross was being threatening, or simply being a sibling.

"N-no, please…" Hunter moaned, weakly pleading with his brothers with a wave of panic rising in his chest, "Don't! I just n-need a little time t-to… f-finish suhm'thin…" A letter. He had a letter he was trying to write… Crosshair would be stomping all over these carefully chosen words and thank yous and apologies to tell her how he felt if Echo was serious… "Gedet'ye, vod… Gedet'ye." Please don't do anything to blow this for him. He needed more time.

Echo put his hand on Hunter's uninjured shoulder, leveling the end of his scomp with his brother with a pointed expression. "By the end of the week."

"Hey Hunter! How do you want your Kommerken?!"

Hunter blanched at the thought of food right now. While the anti-emetic was proving helpful for a turbulent stomach, he didn't think he'd take a chance on anything substantial like a slab of meat and the seasoned, fire-roasted root vegetables he could smell Tech preparing. "Tell him m'not hungry… Cross would you… grab my datapad from my beside?" Hunter should start proofreading that letter if he has two days, glancing at the wall with the calendar. Crosshair was down the hallway before he could change his mind. "Sure. I'll be right back so you can take a page out of Tech's book and study up. Tell Wreck I want mine bloody, Echo."

"I'm not a waiter droid!" Echo called after him. Sighing, he straightened up and entered the kitchen to join Wrecker and relay the information. "Hunter's not in a state for food just yet. Crosshair wants his steak bloody. I'll take mine well-done, please."

"Ha-hah! You got it! You want some, Omega?"

"Ew…" Hunter heard her complain softly. The brothers were working on introducing her to more galactic cuisine they'd come across in their travels well before they met her, with mixed success. She didn't have the same adventurous stomach like Wrecker, but she would humor most of the more unusual offerings at least once when they could afford to be picky with a meal. "I don't know… I'll… try a little, I guess."

"Atta girl. Don't worry, I'll grill up some nuna drumsticks for ya, too." Wrecker promised her before Omega said she was going to go to her room and work on something she started drawing the other night. Nuna legs were always a safe meal choice no matter where they traveled; the base flavor was almost always the same, perhaps slightly gamey depending on the planet, but otherwise it was prepared and served in a pretty universally uniform fashion. "You're not much of a fan of the Kommerken either, Tech, you want to go with some nuna tonight instead?"

"If you don't mind." Tech murmured distractedly, turning the chunks of root vegetable individually on the other hotplate to ensure an even crisping.

"Not at all!" Wrecker rolls his right shoulder once before he turns his attention back to the larger hotplate he's set up to make dinner for everyone. A twinge of pain in his face is not unnoticed by the woman wearing the insignia of galactic healthcare on her shoulder still. "Something happen to your shoulder, Wreck?"

"Oh, I'm fine kid," he couldn't think up anything in particular from their mission with Captain Rex aboard the prisoner transport ship that caused the pain at the moment, so he couldn't be entirely certain it was anything from their earlier escapade, "don't worry about me… Please. We're more concerned about Hunter being taken care of right now." Wrecker's last words dropped into a low, careful rumble, so as not to be overheard by those outside of the kitchen. Tech nodded in agreement with the sentiment expressed. Ordinarily he would have scolded one of his brothers for neglecting injury or illness (not quite to the same, stern extent that Echo would), but today had nearly gone so south and sideways were it not for the woman currently shoulder-to-shoulder with Wrecker.

If she hadn't been out there, drifting in space, aboard her medical craft and by some mercy of all holy deities in this galaxy near enough to the Havoc Marauder that they could take Hunter to her, Hunter may no longer be here. The bitter thought of one less brother almost coming to pass choked his throat unpleasantly. Their grievances could wait. Hunter would come first until everyone was satisfied he was recovered and it would be business as usual.

[____] made a little rolling motion of her jaw in thought, and swallowed down the concerns clambering in her throat she wished to voice. "Okay," she said instead, voice almost regretful. "But I feel I should at least give you something for the pain so it's not bothering you while you're making dinner for everyone, at least."

Before the sweet giant of a man could wave off the proposed offer, Tech waved to the thick, red-stitched patch affixed to the sleeve of the rumpled, hastily thrown-on (but importantly clean of any blood) uniform coat with a flutter that directed Wrecker's attention to the insignia to remind him she's still wearing the shattered cross so she's still on the job. "I think that would be a sufficient compromise, Wrecker."

Wrecker just shrugs noncommittally, but nods all the same not long after with some thought. He trusts Tech's judgment of course; he trusts all of his brothers. Every. Damn. One of them. "Righ'. Compromise works… I'll take something for the pain, sure. Thanks, kid."

"I'll be right back then. I have some single doses in my bag."

"Single doses?" The ARC trooper repeated from out in the common area. "What of? What for?"

"Probably the big guy's shoulder." Crosshair said in a way that didn't sound like a guess, more of a statement. "Tweaked his shoulder aboard that karking transport." He didn't so much as react to the flinch and stern look from Hunter at his word choice.

"How'd you know?"

"Marksmen see everything…" [____] offered with a cryptic thought, rooting through the hard-frame medbag. She didn't elaborate on the less than blithe remark, just chewed on a difficult look in her eyes and the tight grind of her jaw. She'd seen her own horrors from the Clone Wars. The relentless and indiscriminate wrathful arm of brutality and violence that left so many permanently altered even if they survived those three years. Just three kriffing years that felt so much longer. "Found it. Here, got something to help with that pain, big guy."

She broke the thin barrier of foil in the single-dosage blister and took it back with her to the cramped kitchen, giving it to Wrecker who thanked her brightly, using one of her nicknames. "Awh, thanks. Appreciate it!"

There was a shrill beep, the end of a timer from the opposite end of the kitchen that made Hunter visibly twitch out in the common room, the sound an icepick in his ear canal.

"That was set for ten minutes," Tech answered the unasked question, calling out above the clattering of ceramic dishware as Wrecker plated the steaks that were done, "you should see if the dosage has helped Hunter. Will the dosage you gave Wrecker need more or less time?"

The medic made a sound of deep thought at first. "Er, slightly more. Let's say fifteen. Thanks for keeping track, Tech," her thanks was met with insistence that it was nothing, he was happy to assist before she stepped back out into the common area, eyes squeezed in a look of worry when she saw Hunter. "Hunter, how you doin', hun? You okay? Think that painkiller kicked in yet?"

Hunter rolled his good shoulder, hoping he didn't look too panicked on the outside the way he felt it internally. Great trees of Kashyyyk, that had set off his fight-flight instinct. "Uh, yeah, think it did… Timer just scared the kriff out of me. Could someone ask Tech to use a different timer tone?" It was a default sound, one a touch too close to the primed and ready chime of a detonator. Were it an octave higher, it would have been exact.

"You hear that, nerd?" Crosshair growled darkly, voice just loud enough to be picked up by those in the kitchen. He'd noticed what Hunter had, felt that same edge in his teeth at the unpleasant alert. "Erase that karking option from the timer settings cause that's sure as banthashit not going to work out for ex-soldiers."

"Yes, I agree; apologies, everyone..."

A door slammed sharply down in the hall. Seemed like Omega had been ready to join the group for dinner once she could hear the gritty shuffle of plates, but suddenly changed her mind. It didn't seem like she'd meant to slam the door, either, that was very unlike her to engage in this age-appropriate behavior. "Oh dear..." [____] crooned softly, her face matching the worried expression of the brothers. She skirted around the sofa to stop Crosshair, and both she and Echo prevented Hunter from getting up by pressing down on his unhurt shoulder as he tried to find his feet under him. "No, stay there, Hunter; you're going to be too woozy to walk. Let me handle it, Crosshair,"

The sniper just regarded the thought of checking on his sister with one last look towards Omega's bedroom door, then back at the grown woman again before he relented, his jaw clenching and releasing repeatedly. "If you need help."

"I'll let you know. I understand it's very unlike her; I'll see what's going on." [____] assured her friends, promising she'd ask one of them to come assist if she felt it was necessary. Silently approaching the barrier of privacy, the woman rapped a knuckle twice on the upper panel.

A sniffled apology to what was likely believed to be needed for one of her brothers at the door greeted the medic's ears. "I-I'm sorry I didn't me-mean to slam the door…!"

Oh the poor, sweet girl. Was she scared she'd gotten herself in trouble, or had the sound of the timer scared her, too? Though, perhaps it was a third, previously unconsidered option: Omega couldn't find the energy to be brave any longer. She wasn't as practiced as her war veteran brothers in masking their fear, or waiting until it was a more "appropriate" time to have those feelings. "It's me, Omega. May I come in?" There was no answer. Just a stifled sniffle before the audible swell of a new wave of tears started. "It's just me." [____] promised again.

The mechanism klic!'d as Omega hiccuped that she could come in. The desk light was the only source of illumination for the whole of the room presently turned on, so the medic left it that way. Curled in the deepest corner of her bed furthest from the door, Omega sat with her legs hiked up under her chin, the fabric of her pants tearstained at the knees. What was the best question to ask her first? Did she think she was in trouble for the door? Scared by the timer? Or scared she nearly lost her brother today?

"Can I give you a hug, sweetheart?" was asked instead, the medic lowering herself slowly to the slightly springy mattress she remembered helping the brothers find when they furnished the house.

Look, doc, we've… never had comfortable beds our whole lives being soldiers. Just those damn sleeping pods as cadets and then a private room with piss poor excuses for a mattress for those few nights we'd be back on Kamino. So that means we've never had to take care of a kid before either… What kind of mattress is Omega going to need? Help us… help me… figure out how to take care of that kid. Please… please!

Omega nodded with an emotional whimper, weakly climbing into the lap of the grown woman and planted her forehead between the medic's collarbones, crown of her head tucked away and under [____]'s chin. Strong arms that have cradled and carried the wounded, the dying, and the sick thread themselves around the shoulders and little waist of the sole sister to these brothers.

"It's okay, sweetheart. I was scared too."

It's all it takes to give Omega permission to cry again. To speak; the scared, child-like mewl of Omega's emotional voice punctuated by hiccups. "I-I thought I was going to l-lose my little brother!" She couldn't pretend anymore. She wasn't the “little sister” of the Bad Batch right now. She was the frightened, older - if not eldest - sibling of those vode out in the common room and in the kitchen who had been raised in secret labs and corners of Kamino and knew little of the galaxy compared to them. So she was being raised by men technically younger, but, by necessity, more mentally mature and experienced men.

Fingers clawed into the doctor's coat like clingmoss, knuckles going pale with the force of the grip. The strength was mirrored with a deeper pull of her arms, and [____] brought Omega closer to her chest, combing her fingers through the girl's hair. "I-! I thought he'd-!"

"I know, baby girl. I know. You don't have to say it and upset yourself. C'mere…" She scooped an arm under Omega's knees and repositioned her easily, cradling the child with an ease from years of practice. "... take a deep breath for me, little one. It's okay." If she could get Omega mostly settled, perhaps she could do something about the worried whispers just barely outside the mouth of the hall too. She had an idea. "Breathe in, hold, and then breathe out." She uncurled the arm under Omega's knees and dug around in an inner coat pocket, hoping the itty cylindrical object she felt in there was what she hoped it was. "Take a deep breath in," [____]'s fingers wrapped around the little item and pulled it free, a fabric marker she used to doodle on bandages and casts for pediatric patients. "and breathe out nice and slow… There you go. Just like that."

"What's t-that?" Omega sniffled, eyes catching on the strange art supply. "I've never se-seen a marker like that before..."

"It's a fabric marker," [____] explained, taking the edge of her sleeve to dry Omega's face, using the distraction to soothe and settle, "I mostly use this to add little drawings on big casts and bandages for my pediatric patients so it makes them feel better. Maybe before I go home tonight you and I could add little doodles to Hunter's gauze; make it all pretty for him. Whaddya think?" The teasing offer and wink worked, the light in Omega's eyes sparking. The idea was silly, and there was a chance that trying to add a cute little doodle or two might be slightly more trouble than would be worth the temporary pain or Hunter would protest to the idea of being doodled on, but it was enough to cheer her spirits for the time being. "You can think about it. Hold onto it for now,"

Who knows; maybe Hunter would allow his sister to add some minuscule artworks if only to get her to smile and worry about him less, "Because I think that's the smell of your dinner ready. Hungry?"

Omega dried her eyes one last time and grinned brightly up at her friend. Her brother's savior. She still had her brother thanks to the woman who had come in and comforted her. "Yeah!"

[____] smiled and winked at the little youngster still snuggled in her lap, the fabric marker held tight in her hands like a sword's hilt. "Good. Me too; ration bars are only so filling, aren't they?" Her heart sang with the bubbling giggle and one last embrace before both scooched off the bed, Omega calling out to any listening brother in the rest of the house that the two of them were ready to and that she called dibs! to sit between [____] and Hunter at the table this time when everyone sat down to dinner.

There was a sharp pause before a great shuffle at the dining room table to make that arrangement possible.

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shadowsofthegun-if · 1 year

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Loved your answer for my last ask. Here's another one though lol

How would everybody react to the MC getting shot by someone and they think they're dead now but out of nowhere the shooter gets shot dead by the MC on the ground and it turns out it only hit the MC's shoulder?

im starting to think youve managed to get ahold of my notes or something 👀. Keeping it vague like last time and kinda not answer the prompt☝

Aster: The tears streaming down their face have left them practically blind. All they can focus on is the feeling of blood on their hands. Hot and sticky blood. The feeling leaves them on the brink of panic, regretting not paying any attention to the few first aid lessons that they were taught. Aster knows that they're not going to lose their Star tonight, but the fact that they're here and hurting almost drives them to madness. They swear to everything that even has the chance listening that they will never let this happen again.

Ro: They're frozen, they want to move but they cant bring themselves to do it. All they can focus on is the blood on Blessings shoulder. They can still hear the sound of the gun going off. For a moment, all they can think of is their Father and how painful his last moments were, and how Ro could do nothing to help him in that moment. This time they can help. This realization sets them into motion and they rush over to Blessing to begin their assessment of the wound. Ro will not let another one of their family suffer, not as long as theyre still here and breathing.

Jesse: The wave of relief that flows through his body is enough to knock him to his knees. He thought he lost his Blessing, his purpose, his everything. It was only for a moment but that moment was long enough for him to realize that he'll never be able to handle that pain. He'll burn the world to the ground before he ever has experience anything like it again.

Harrison: The burning rage that flows through his veins still has control of his mind. Even after the shooter is on the ground dead he cant stop himself from firing three more shots into the body. When Harrison turns to look at Blessing the fire in him begins to dim. He so badly wants to be angry, to yell at them for being an idiot and getting themselves shot, but he cant. All he can bring himself to do is kneel next to them and brush the hair out of their face, releasing a small sigh and finally letting the rage die out.

#thanks for the ask!#ignore that i used the term first aid i literally couldnt think of anything else #the term first aid wasnt even invinted till 1878 #feel free to send in ask!#aster vega.#ro escuella.#jesse alden.#harrison boyd.#'blessing' cain.#michael-crank

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gideongrovel · 5 months

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5, 12, and 13 for the Insert Lore asks!

Sunnyyyyyyy thank you!! 😁😁😁

5. does your self insert have any special powers or abilities? Answered here :)

12. how would the fandom view your character? Well not to be a negative nancy but fandom spaces tend to ignore black characters so most probably wouldnt think much of him💀 And then there would be the toxic/phobic fans would probs treat him how they treat Y/amato (like misgendering and such)😬 But on the positive side!! he would also be loved deeply by fans who do have it as a fave!! Like the fans he would have, they would be so die hard!! They would love him and B/rook together as well, they would be on many of fans "underrated ships" t/iktok edits 😂 Also any edits/gif sets people make of the grown ups of the crew he'd be included, since i notice people like making those as well lol

13. does your self insert have any information about their family? He grew up with his Uncle on his human side, since his parents left him there to keep him safe, Gideon isnt told this yet but the actually reason is because his parents are part of the R/evolutionary A/rmy,,, And they couldnt look after him while doing that,,, although Gideon doesnt know this atp, He is just told since he looks more human then m/ink he should stay with the human side of the family,,,, His Uncle doesnt know much about it either, he just knows vaguely his brother and sister-in-law are doing important work of some kind,,,, But not knowing his parents he basically sees his uncle as a father (uncle, mom, or dad dont have names yet- im working on it still lmaooo) He honestly feels indifferent (tho more neg) about his birth parents during this time before setting sail But during S/abaody when K/uma yeets the crew their separate ways, he actually sends Gideon to an island where his parent establish a small community of M/inks and Humans (so other mix species couples, and like hybrid characters born from those couples live there) Gideon stays there during the 2 year time skip,,, His parents aren't on the island anymore, nor have they been in years, No one on this island has heard news from them in a while- however!! Some individuals do reveal the information that Gideon's parents are part of the R/evolutionary A/rmy! This conflicts Gideon, but also comforts him know that they didnt leave him on purpose,,, (Tho he doesnt know if they are still alive or not atp) He also learns more about his powers and abilities from the other M/inks while he is there, so knowing the reason he has electric powers, as well as why he feels stronger when seeing a full moon (he learns about S/ulong forms as well) He learns about what the others mixed m/inks can and cant do with their powers as well as other animal that m/inks can be,,,, He also learns about "garchu" during this time 🥰🥰🥰

During the time skip R/obin actually ends up meeting Gideon's parents during her journeys,,,, Once the crew comes together again, She informs Gideon that its parents are alive and they know of its pirating adventures (Since they've seen his wanted poster and such in the news) Gideon again doesnt really know how to feel about it,,, still indifferent (more neutral then negative now) he is glad to know theyre at lease alive,,,

Also after the timeskip during Z/ou he feels even more comradery, meeting some distant relatives/cousins even! He learns even more about M/ink culture! Also he condones his fellow dog m/inks biting on B/rook,,, the other dog m/inks are like "wow you're so lucky!" 🤭

#this was another long one im sorry lmao #thank you so much for sending some!!#answered #colakissing #my post

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kingdimitrx · 1 year

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I just read your masochistic reader post and guess what? I am also a masochist! (not in real life lol) but could you pls write about a toxic Gyutaro x fem reader relationship in a modern au? 👉🏻👈🏻 Thank you very much and take care!! 💖

Hi there, glad you liked the other post! I’m also so sorry this one took me a while to get to, I’ve been so busy lately. ;-;

As there wasn’t a lot of specification in this request besides the prompt itself and y/n’s gender, I’ve taken some liberties. I’ll taking a headcanon approach, in third person. I purposely left everything somewhat vague.

Hope you enjoy! I also apologize in advance if this isn’t what you were looking for.

Toxic!Gyutaro x F!Reader Headcanons

CW: Toxic behavior, mentions of mild(?) abuse (I didn’t know how to warn for everything when I kept it semi-vague.)

Headcanons are based on a modern setting.

Note: I have a lot of knowledge/experience with toxic relationships/domestic violence, so this is based primarily on what I know/what I’ve been through.

~~~

Y/N and Gyutaro met at the end of high school.

She was the classic rich prep girl; everyone liked her and she was overall just a very kind person. Meanwhile, Gyutaro was poor, very disliked, and well-known to be an unpleasant guy.

Back in their school days, Y/N avoided him at all costs, as she didn’t want to get caught up in “the bad crowd”. He didn’t even like her, either, so they weren’t close at all.

Then, years later, Y/N is now a young adult, and so is Gyutaro. The two meet again completely by coincidence, quite literally running into one another on the street while each was focusing on something different - Gyutaro, his sister, Y/N, her phone.

Gyutaro had a black eye thanks to the collision; Y/N felt horrible. Still, Gyutaro thought it was pretty funny.

After that, the two exchanged numbers, as Y/N was almost shocked to see how nice of a man Gyutaro had become in comparison to his teenage self. They started hanging out as friends, and got closer and closer until Gyutaro eventually asked her to be his girlfriend.

Ume was hesitant towards Y/N at first - especially since the girl was hogging all of her brother’s attention, but she eventually came to like Y/N.

At first, the relationship between Y/N and Gyutaro was a great one. He was a kind, attentive, gentle partner who catered to his girlfriend’s every need, and in turn, Y/N tried her best to take care of him, too.

Things slowly started to change, though, but Y/N didn’t notice it right away. Gyutaro started making comments about her hair or her clothes, then moved in to calling her mild names and even making fun of her sometimes - but, all in good fun, right?

Things only got worse the longer Y/N and Gyutaro stayed together. His teasing turned into taunts, telling her she looked silly became ordering her to change, poking fun at her became cruel insults.

The change was so slow and yet so sudden at the same time - Y/N doesn’t know what went wrong, or when.

Gyutaro engages in a lot of different kind of toxic behavior. Isolation, insults, belittling, intimidation, manipulation, guilt tripping, borderline stalking, and even gaslighting at times.

Gyutaro is extremely jealous and possessive, isolating his girlfriend from everyone but himself, and Ume. When alone with her, he’s that sweet, lovely man she fell in love with, but one wrong move and he turns into that bitter, jealous man from high school. Then, after he berates and sometimes even hits her, he goes right back to being to caring man.

All of the constant switching back and forth between good and hurtful makes Y/N’s head hurt, but all is good, she’d never leave Gyutaro. She loves him too much; and he loves her too, right? He just has bad days.

#machigai ask box #machigai headcanons #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #gyutaro #ume shabana #female y/n #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny

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beevean · 1 year

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https://www.rockman-corner.com/2019/07/remastered-tracks-rockman-zero-telos_17.html

So according to this interview there’s a possibility that Omega’s AI may not have been completely made by Weil from scratch, but may actually be Zero’s original, Wily-made personality before he became good.

Given their wording it’s not necessarily 100% confirmed but it’s a possibility

Reply: very interesting review! I especially liked the description of how it is to live in Neo Arcadia, since we don’t see it in the games, or the role of the planned Fake Ciel.

Suzuki: You were the one asking us the whole time, so how about we ask something to you, the Sound Team? Omega’s 3rd form words, what is he saying? Yamada: He’s saying “I am the Messiah!”. Terrorist and anarchists often say stuff like “I am God!” or the likes, no? I wanted to give out that feeling. The words by themselves have no meaning but I think they work to express his cruelty and ferocity in a single line. By the way, what’s the setting for the personality of Omega’s 3rd form? Yabe: The personality program (Cyber Elf) of Omega’s 3rd form was programmed by Vile as a Messiah. Well then, Omega’s 3rd form’s… Original Zero’s personality… We can’t affirm for sure that all of it is made by Vile. Itou: We can’t deny the possibility that the original personality of Zero, made by “the scientist who tried to take over the world many times” remained in the original body and that personality has won over… Yabe: Let’s leave that up to the users’ imaginations (laughs).

Yeah, they left it vague on purpose lol. Still, it would make sense, and fit with what we’ve seen of Awakened Zero in X5. Certainly would give Omega a more interesting personality than he has in Z3.

#megaman #megaman zero

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mahou-furbies · 7 months

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If you don’t mind, could you share the details of your miku exercise project? I wanna copy it since I’m getting to be no longer young & spry, but I have no idea what standards to set for myself (ie, what earns a sticker). Also I’m curious where you’re getting the nendroids from lol

I've left the details vague on purpose, because I have no credentials for giving exercise program advice, and since everyone's situation is different, I think there are better ways to find what works for yourself than just copy mine. And also because I don't need anyone tracking how much (or little) progress I'm making.

So it all depends on stuff like what kind of exercise you're able and willing to do, and how often, and what kind of prize you have. I recommend the kind of exercise that it's easy enough for to be realistic for you to achieve on a regular basis, but hard enough that you feel that you actually did some exercise. Probably better to underestimate in the beginning if you're unsure, if you think your program is too easy you can always add more for the next round, instead of shooting for the moon right away and dropping out on week 2. And you don't need to be have absolute and strict rules either, I gave myself a sticker for helping with a move because moving heavy boxes for a couple hours was a lot of work, even if it wasn't what I had in mind when I started the project.

I got the Strawberry Miku and the Snow Miku 2023 new from GoodSmile's own shop, and the rest were used from Mandarake.

#responses #miku project

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bookofmirth · 2 years

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I know your a really big Mor fan which might contribute to your bias towards her but I personally don’t like her. Her attitude and written presence as “a dreamer in the court of night mares” sets her up as a token “I’m not like other girls”

For all the power she has written to have, we don’t see it. What is the purpose of her character? One would think she was meant to be an advocate for women but she hasn’t done anything for the women in the court of night mares. The book makes her seem other, but the book also tells us that she wasn’t the only one struggling. She was just the only one who had Rhysand as a cousin.

She is also incredibly ignorant with her racists comments about Illyrians and her willful blindness about what the women suffer with over there. Out of everyone, she should know what it’s like. Which is one of the many reasons why I hope she doesn’t end up with emerie, she doesn’t deserve her.

I don’t think Emerie would appreciate how she treated Nesta either. She was a bitch, who saw someone who was centuries younger than her and who was already breaking and thought to compare her to her abusers who nailed her and left her for dead. Told her that she doesn’t deserve the kindness and patience shown to her by others. I lost all my respect for her at that point tbh. For all her grandstanding about truth, she couldn’t be more wrong.

And her issue with Nesta over Cassian and how she might take him from her and further complicate her Az situation is sad. Nesta’s only interaction with her was that dress situation. But then Mor comes out of nowhere and says she mistreats Cassian…when all their supposed “fights” are offscreen? When the book even describes their tension as “mutual”? When literally nobody else seems to interfere in the same degree as her? When Nesta genuinely asks if he’s okay in the war and Mor lashes out?

I disagree with your comment that Nesta treated her court poorly. Yeah she didn’t like them but they were Fae and generations of mistrust doesn’t change that overnight. Feyre is a testament to that because it took her time to see the Fae differently too. Yet despite that, Nesta was friends with Amren and neutral with Az. Nesta and Rhysand barely even interacted in the trilogy and it wasn’t until ACOSF where we are told she hates him. And how he seems to relish her fear of him. And he’s definitely given her a reason to. So who exactly did she irrevocably hurt?

This was long but I actually had time today to rant a bit.

I was going to delete this ask because you came off kinda rude, decided to rant about a character you know I like, and I'm honestly not sure what you wanted to get from this because there isn't a question. There's no way I'm going to agree with you here, and I think you know that, so this all seems like it would be better done as a post on your own blog. I suppose I appreciate that you sent this to me rather than vaguing me? But then I thought, well some of the things you said are inaccurate, so... I'll clear those things up.

your bias

First off, this. Bias? This is a fandom. Am I biased because I like elucien more than I like nessian? Are you biased because you clearly prefer Nesta over Mor? If I write a fanfic for elucien, but then don't write separate versions for feysand and nessian, am I biased? If an artist does a series of drawings for certain pairings and not others, are they biased? lol no. There is no need for objectivity in fandom. We all like what we like and there's really nothing that deep about it. No one has to be "fair" in this space. Otherwise everything would be neutral and that would be really boring. We all have our preferences, and that's... okay! "Bias" has a negative connotation, and there is no need for a negative connotation in fandom spaces where it's all different strokes for different folks.

Were you trying to insinuate that you, because you like Nesta, are like... better than I am? Or more objective than I am? Because uh... I got some quotes from the book for you.

Her attitude and written presence as “a dreamer in the court of night mares” sets her up as a token “I’m not like other girls”

So I disagree with this because the whole "I'm not like other girls" is an inherently gendered phenomenon. It's a way for women to put one another down, and Mor literally doesn't do that in a gendered way. Mor being different from her family/the CoN has nothing to do with her gender, and everything to do with their cruelty versus her strength and optimism.

Did we all collectively forget the fact that the library, you know, where all the priestesses and other victims of sexual assault trauma go to heal, that's Mor's thing? Rhys started the library as a refuge for women, and Mor brings women there to heal. All the time. She brought Clotho there, and Gwyn, and countless others. I keep seeing people say that Mor doesn't help other women, and I'm sorry but 1) since when is she the High Lady that that responsibility is laid at her feet, and 2) she.... she literally does help other women???

She is also incredibly ignorant with her racists comments about Illyrians and her willful blindness about what the women suffer with over there.

This is factually untrue. She comments on the Illyrians *because* of what they do to women. That's... why all the characters talk about Illyrians in the way that they do.

Here is how other characters talk about Illyrians:

Eris in acosf: "the one the Illyrian brutes call Ramiel."

Nesta in acosf, yes she is guilty of this too: “Because Illyrians are backward and horrible.”

Amren in acomaf: “They’re barbarians,” Amren said, and neither Illyrian male objected.

Rhys in acomaf: “[Illyrians] are also brutal and backward, particularly in regard to how they treat their females.”

Azriel: they both knew Azriel would sooner disband and destroy Illyria than help it. Convincing their brother that the Illyrians were a people worth saving was still a battle amongst the three of them.

So why this special energy for Mor?

The real issue is how SJM has written the Illyrians. She's got the characters in a catch 22 because either they say shit that is racist (and as you can see above, pretty much everyone does), or they give Illyrians a pass for how they treat women. SJM is at fault here for writing a sexist as hell culture peopled by non-white characters. Do the characters talk poorly about them? Yeah. That's not unique to Mor, though. It has nothing to do with her character, and everything to do with how SJM has written the Illyrians.

Re: Emerie, they were clearly written to have interest between them and we are 95% sure Mor is getting a book, so I doubt it. I don't need all my friends to like/hate the same people that I like/hate, and I doubt Emerie would either.

And the whole Cassian thing, I just... don't care. I don't have the energy to care. It's over, it's done, Mor helped Nesta learn the dance for the CoN, they're over it and I'm over it.

compare her to her abusers who nailed her and left her for dead.

I do keep seeing this though, and no? Mor was not abused by the entirety of the Court of Nightmares, she was abused by her family, mainly her father. Mor did not compare Nesta to her father. And sorry, but I'm going to keep saying this - Nesta did fucking great in the CoN. She was badass and got Eris on the hook that night. Mor was right. Remember how out of place Elain looks? Nesta fit right in. And again, that's not Mor saying that Nesta is like her abusers, because the CoN did not abuse Mor, her family did. But the CoN is a cutthroat place and Nesta thrived.

While the part about humans and fae's attitudes towards one another is true, the key word here is "behavior".

At what point was Feyre (or Elain) intentionally cruel to any of the fae just for being fae? That was a choice Nesta made, to be on the offense. Yeah there were a lot of feelings there and they were pretty much justified because of history, but she didn't have to be cruel to a group of fae who were trying to welcome her, who she knew had helped her sister, who had lifted them out of poverty. Nesta being cruel was a choice, and in acosf we know that it's a choice she frequently regrets! So I'm not sure why we would want to erase that from her character. The story isn't "Nesta was sad and everyone was mean to her because of it." The woman gave better than she got.

The whole thing about Mor's role in the story, I have complained about this myself, but that doesn't make her a bad character, it makes SJM an annoying writer for just sidelining characters all the time. "What's her purpose" well ask SJM? She hasn't made it clear what Mor's powers are, but that doesn't make Mor a bad character, it makes sjm a sometimes lazy writer. Again, it seems like the things you have an issue with aren't Mor as a character, but sjm phoning some of this shit in.

I'm never going to like Nesta as a person. I think she's a super interesting and complex character, but I like other characters way more than I like her, including Mor. Everyone is free to enjoy whichever characters they like, that's great. But I think that stepping away from the fandom kool-aid and rereading the scenes from the books is helpful sometimes. Or don't, because most of the time we just like the characters we like and we don't have to justify it.

#ask #anon #mor #acotar #long post tag

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speeed-and-power · 2 years

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new fic page + fandom statistics

continuing on my quest to make my blog generally more accessible and generally better all round, I’ve updated the page where you can find all the fics I’ve written. it has filters so you can sort by pairing, rating, and genre, and is infinitely more readable than my last one!

it’s also allowed me to do some ~fun fandom fic statistics~ which my autistic self loves! I’ve put them below the cut because they’re dull.

Pairings

I’ve written 22 fics about Clarkson, Hammond and May, but for the purposes of these statistics I’m excluding my dribble/drouble/drabble roundup fic because I can’t be bothered including those 12 or so little ficlets. So, of the 21 fics:

Je/R was the first pairing I wrote

it was obviously my favourite for a while, because 10 of the 21 fics are Je/R

7 are J/J

3 are OT3

1 is Ja/R

I find this interesting—I like reading all pairings equally, and in theory like the idea of writing all pairings, but clearly I find myself drawn overwhelmingly to Je/R and J/J. I adore OT3 but find it tricky to write, and I also enjoy Ja/R but it doesn’t come as easily to me as anything with Jeremy in, so that’s why I think I’ve neglected it up until now.

This compares interestingly to the fandom overall, where the most popular pairing differs by platform! I’m just focusing on the main four pairings here (sorry Andy, Stig, and others D:) in order to more easily compare to my own writing.

On dreamwidth (which includes aggregate posts from the old LJ comm):

Ja/R leads with 1,551

J/J comes second with 1,455

OT3 is third with 1,109

Je/R is last! with 1,003

On ao3 under the Top Gear (UK) RPF tag:

J/J is first with 746 fics

Ja/R is second with 540 fics

OT3 is third with 442

Je/R is last again with 396

It’s fascinating to me that clearly the LJ comm was the place for fics, even though ao3 has been around since 2007. Although in saying that I believe it only really started to get popular from 2010 onwards (the first thing I ever posted on there was in 2013, a since-orphaned, really bad James Bond/Raoul Silva fic that I wrote when I was 16 LOL) and I know the comm has been active at least back to 2008.

Lastly, on ao3 under The Grand Tour (TV) RPF tag:

J/J is first with 200 fics

Je/R is second with 146

Ja/R is third with 125

OT3 is last (just!) with 124

Obviously we can’t take these numbers as being set in stone because fics may have multiple pairings and thus multiple tags (and I know most people tag both fandoms on ao3, which doubles up the numbers), but they do give us a good idea. What’s consistent about all three platforms is that J/J is at the top or very near the top (this doesn’t surprise me; anecdotally I always thought it was the most popular pairing) and OT3 is at the bottom or near the bottom. It’s also interesting to me that in recent years Je/R seems to have leapt in popularity, and I wonder why. Were there a bunch of primarily Ja/R writers back in the day who have since left fandom?

Moving on to...

Ratings

When it comes to my fics (and keep in mind I’m using the Australian rating system of G/PG/M/MA/R here) it’s not an exact science and I’m not very good at rating but I’ve done my best:

9 are G/PG (maybe a little smooching)

3 are M (perhaps some over-the-clothes action, or more mature themes)

1 is MA (slightly smutty without being explicit)

7 are R (smut)

I’m surprised at this, because I didn’t realise I’ve written that much smut. Of those rated R fics, though, 3 are Je/R, 2 are OT3, one is J/J and one is Ja/R. So I’m at least a somewhat equal opportunity porn provider.

To make it confusing, both ao3 and the DW comm use different rating systems to each other and to me (the DW one I think is the american system and is thus incomprehensible to me, and ao3’s has always seemed vague), but let’s look at them anyway:

dreamwidth

rated G - 178 uses - 5th

rated PG - 272 uses - 3rd

rated PG-13 - 329 uses - 2nd

rated PG-15 - 133 uses - 6th

rated R - 228 uses - 4th

rated NC-17 - 505 uses - 1st

I find it interesting that these numbers don’t correspond to the amount of fics with pairings that are listed in the comm, meaning I guess a lot of fics on there aren’t tagged with their ratings. I’m thus not too sure about the accuracy of these numbers—but regardless, of what’s tagged, the people want smut it seems! LOL

ao3 - Top Gear (UK) RPF

General Audiences - 618 uses - 3rd

Teen & Up Audiences - 736 uses - 1st

Mature - 525 uses - 4th

Explicit - 668 uses - 2nd

Not Rated - 155 uses - 5th

ao3 - The Grand Tour (TV) RPF is largely the same, except General Audiences and Explicit switch places:

General Audiences - 197 uses - 2nd Teen & Up Audiences - 225 uses - 1st Mature - 146 uses - 4th Explicit - 177 uses - 3rd Not Rated - 80 uses - 5th

I find it interesting that Mature is as unpopular as it is, but otherwise, I’m not too sure what else to glean from these statistics. Moving on to my final data point...

Genres

This was nearly impossible for me to quantify because I am good at tagging my fics but a lot of the tags I use are quite specific (“First Time”, “Episode Related”) so I find it hard to fit my fic into the commonly-accepted overarching ‘genres’ of fic: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, and smut are the four that first come to mind. A lot of my fics ended up being fluff, a few smut, one or two angsty, but there are more than a few that I left untagged completely when it comes to genre because they’re kind of nothing! If anything they were maybe fluffy, but fluff to me implies tooth-rottingly sweet and these pieces didn’t really scream that to me.

smut (everything rated R basically): 7 fics

fluff: 6 fics

untagged: 5 fics

angst (but it’s weak angst by my standards, ‘minor conflict’ or ‘morose pining’ would probably be a better tag, LOL): 4 fics

double tagged (fluff/smut, smut/pwp x2, angst/smut): 4 fics

porn without plot: 2 fics

alternate universe: 1 fic

Let’s look at dreamwidth first. It has a lot of tags, which is excellent for my purposes! I haven’t included all of them; I limited myself to the top 7, an arbitrary number just cuz.

alternate universe: 428 uses

humour: 317 uses

fluff: 159 uses

gen: 150 uses

dribble/drouble/drabble: 144 uses

established relationship: 138 uses

angst: 111 uses

I suspect we’re looking at the same issue we had when examining the ratings (where people in the past have tagged their fic with the pairing but nothing else). I also suspect AU leads the pack because there’s no corresponding ‘not AU’ tag, but in all honesty I’m surprised by those numbers. Keep in mind, though, I don’t really read AU fic and don’t tend to write it (with one exception) so of course that would surprise me LOL. Humour is kinda a given with these boys, and I’m not surprised fluff is up there either. Now onto ao3!

ao3 - Top Gear (UK) RPF

Fluff: 317 uses

Established Relationship: 226 uses

RPF: 174 uses

Angst: 163 uses

Hurt/Comfort: 157 uses

Slash: 134 uses

Episode Related: 126 uses

ao3 - The Grand Tour (TV) RPF is quite similar with one amusing tag added:

Fluff: 133 uses

Established Relationship: 83 uses

Hurt/Comfort: 83 uses

Angst: 60 uses

Friendship: 46 uses

Not Beta Read: 44 uses

RPF: 39 uses

The addition of ‘Not Beta Read’ made me lol because I can identify with it a lot, but I didn’t expect it to show up in the tags! Hey, if anyone needs a beta, let me know—I love doing that shit. :D

But let’s not get bogged down with ‘oo didn’t beta ‘oo, I find the fact that RPF is on both lists to be interesting because I’ve never bothered tagging for RPF (especially as it’s already in the fandom tag). I guess it’s polite to, I just hadn’t thought of doing it! Otherwise, unlike dreamwidth, the denizens of ao3 largely seem to shun AUs (it does not appear on the list of tags at all for Top Gear (UK) RPF, and appears last in the list for The Grand Tour (TV) RPF), but we can see that fluff is right up there just like in the comm.

Conclusions

I found it interesting how the tastes of the fandom mirrored or differed to my own when it came to my writing. I found the pairing breakdowns especially fascinating with how they seem to have changed over time!

More personally, looking at my back catalogue, I truly think that anything written pre-2017 (published before of sunlight and smoke; I had my fics on a pseud of one of my kpop accounts before I deleted them all and reuploaded them on my current ao3 account which is why the dates are all a bit shonky) is a bit shit. The titles are meh, the descriptions all end in ellipses, and I just don’t think the writing is all that good.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing egregiously wrong with them. They’re just not particularly memorable; they don’t have strong plots or story beats and most were written as prompt fills. There is NOTHING wrong with prompt fills—I still love writing prompt fills—but a lot were written to fulfill a purpose (fill the prompt) and as such I didn’t have complete creative control and didn’t desire to expand on them any more than I had to. And I’m not saying my most recent works have groundbreaking premises either, but at least I can read through them and not cringe, LOL!

Anyway, if you’ve read this far, feel free to expand upon these stats yourself! I’d love to see how your writing compares, or see your own hypotheses about why the pairings have shifted so much in popularity over time!

#mev rambles #i mean i think this stuff is interesting #not to sound like james #but the vast majority won't i'm sure LOL

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miss-m-winks · 2 years

Text

Love is an Art

part 2

master post, part 1, part 3

Note: the school year schedule is not the same as irl. Their calendar year begins in early spring, the school year goes from the start of the year to the beginning of winter, so they’ll all be here on campus over the spring and summer, into the fall. The figure sculpting class Kouto is currently modeling for just got started around the end of spring/beginning of summer.

i have yet to make any names for months, days of the week, or even any locations, so pardon the vagueness anytime i have to avoid mentioning those specific details lol. For all intents and purposes, this is simply a very rough draft for a side story i'm working on.

After the school day was done, Talib walked back to his dorm and into his room. His roommate, a gnorc named Lian, waved a brief hello from his desk, working on some essay.

"Long day for you too?" Talib asked, hanging his jacket up by the door and dropping his bag by his own desk. Lian shrugged.

"Days all start to blend together, this time of year," he said. Talib nodded in response and sat down, leaning over to his little round mirror and gently pulling his left eyelid away from the glass in his socket. With his thumb and forefinger, he popped the glass out and placed it in the jar of salt water nearby. Lian made an uncomfortable noise from the other side of the room.

"You'd think, after all these weeks, I would be used to seeing you do that," he remarked. "Or at least I ought to have learned not to look at you when you do it."

"Give it another few decades, that'll really get you used to it," Talib replied flatly, tying a soft eye patch over his head. "I'm starting to regret bringing only my artistic eyes. Having people stare at it didn't feel so awkward back home." He sighed, turning his mirror aside and pulling out the notebook where he was writing a research essay for his art history class. A study on the way glass art techniques had developed in different countries. He and Lian sat in silence for the rest of the evening, busy with essays and reading assignments until they were too tired to keep working.

In the dark as Lian rolled over to sleep, Talib silently removed his finger prosthetics and ear piece, setting them on his side table. Reaching down to his feet, he finally removed his socks, revealing the metallic shine of his prosthetic left foot. He shoved it under his bed as he took it off, hiding it behind his shoes. Laying back and pulling his blankets up, he rolled to his side, keeping his good ear exposed while his deaf and blind side rested in the protection of his pillow.

—

Kouto rolled out of bed before their roommate, a dwarf named Halie, woke up. They hummed softly as they stretched and swept their hair out of their face. The dull ache of the old scars on their chest was hardly noticeable, for once. sitting down at their desk, they took a jar of ointment from one of the drawers to rub it into their scarred skin, massaging their chest, smearing any residual ointment over other scars that felt achy. The lightning patterns all over their skin never looked the same. Some were fading, others were new. Only the cluster over their heart remained the same from day to day.

“That stuff smells so weird,” Halie mumbled, yawning as she sat up.

“Better than the ointment I used to use,” Kouto replied with a smirk. “That one smelled terrible. Made it real hard to get a date.” Halie laughed.

“You, having a hard time getting a date? So, what, you only had a hookup once a month instead of once a week?” She got up and went to her dresser, digging through the drawers.

“Most of my hookups are just the same handful of people you know.” Kouto brushed their hair and pulled it up into a tight bun. “They just can’t resist coming back for more.” They grinned into their mirror, then walked away to shuffle through their closet. A high necked red tunic stood out to them today, gold trim on the hem and sleeves with a subtle damask pattern in the deep red fabric. They paired it with deep blue leggings and a gold floral hairpiece, then packed their bag for the day.

“See you later,” Halie said, leaning over her mirror to braid her beard. Kouto waved a hand as they left the room.

#winks writing #winks ocs #love is an art #original writing #writeblr #writers of tumblr #and they were roommates #except not yet actually #i have made so many extra characters for this story #random classmates and teachers and roommates #do not ask me who they all are #or what they look like #i am improvising #they're simply not important except as plot devices

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galacticlamps · 2 years

Note

DW asks 4, 7, 12? (This *is* a good list!)

4. who’s wardrobe would you steal?

I thought embarrassingly long & hard about this during a slow point at work & came to the conclusion that while there are very many characters who I'd like to steal specific pieces from (and even more that I'd want if I believed I could pull them off), for whole wardrobe I'd have to go with either:

Doctor - Seven (I also think he'd be a great character to cosplay, his clothes look really comfy & are a nice mix of silly & practical)

Companion - Clara (there's no way that needs explaining, is there? just like. a few sizes up, as I am neither as short or as petite as her)

7. which doctor is not necessarily your favorite but is the doctor you’d most like to travel with or the doctor you think you’d get along the best with?

Hmm. I like to think I'd get on with most of them, given time to grow into it like a companion, but right off the bat clicking with? For some reason, my gut is saying 6. (then the next ones to come to mind were 8 & 9, at which point I realized I was just listing doctors canonically proven to put up with americans/people with american accents lol)

Yeah, I'm gonna say 6. I'm the most confident/least worried about potentially getting along with him - I wonder if that's a surprising answer lol

12. what’s a headcanon that’s you forget isn’t actually canon?

(Ignoring the fact that there are probably several I've completely forgotten aren't canon & therefore can't list here:)

a great many things @the--highlanders says about Two-era characters

romantic relationships on Gallifrey being seen as inherently queer in their society?

Ian/Barbara & Ben/Polly as legit, endgame ships (as far as their time on the show goes - I know EU expands upon it, but DW EU is basically just Fanon Plus - which doesn't make it 'not canon' in my book, I just find it funny that there are things we're all in agreement over that were technically never established in the original source material. And again, as @the--highlanders has pointed out, this sets a rather wonderful precedent for what Classic-era romantic relationships actually look like, because honestly speaking, do either of these ships have anything more overtly romantic about them than, say, Two/Jamie or Nyssa/Tegan do, aside from being 'obvious' on account of being m/f? Idk, I find it comfortingly door-opening that this is a show in which you pretty much have to draw your own conclusions about things like that which were blissfully undefined onscreen, even to the point that fans-turned-writers will reference popular consensuses in new material)

Liz Shaw's exit isn't onscreen because she left to go travel w/ a later Doctor who could actually take her through time & space (obviously, they couldn't shoot that in 1970, not having cast the [x]th Doctor at the time)

Time Lords suck at mind wipes on humans (not just for 6b purposes - why else would 10 leave Donna in such a precarious state, if he could potentially save her life by doing it better?)

Part of One & Two's vagueness about their background comes from the fact that they're avoiding using proper nouns even when speaking to people they trust, because they're on the run from a race of reclusive telepaths, and it might be suspicious for their human companions to even have words like 'Time Lord' or 'Gallifrey' in their heads

Benton quits the military after the 3-era characters leave bc he was only ever in it for his pals

#honorable mention to Jack on no. 4 #but i could never rock that coat #the boots-bottondown-widecutpants tho is v me #anyway thank you!#these were really fun to think about!

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kimmimaru · 3 months

Text

Thoughts on Rebirth Tseng:

Putting it under a cut due to spoilers as usual, since I've essentially finished the main plot for the game. Ok, so if you've been reading my spoiler posts then you're aware I found Tseng to be acting weird, still don't know why that was but the only scene he acts even remotely naturally is when he's dying in the temple and talking to Aerith. Honestly can't wait to see his reaction to her death, I'm a sucker for angst. But anyway, I theorise that the reason he was acting weird is because of Aerith and his dislike/uncertainty of Rufus' plans involving her. Also like...Rufus protecting Tseng from Hojo lol. That side-eye look Rufus sends Hojo's way when he mentions 'helping' Tseng is hilarious. So I have always liked having Hojo tease the Turks with threats of experimenting on them in fanfic and now its proven to be an actual thing lol. But never expected Rufus to be the one to 'protect' them. Tseng's always been a character I've vaguely struggled with because his ability to set apart both sides of himself is so good. Like he acts the cold, hard villian but in actuality he's not. Obviously Reno and Rude know him well enough to kind of call him out on it, but I've never been very good at portraying that with any kind of decency in fanfic. One of the reasons I like writing him so much is to try and get inside his head, I don't understand him very well so I try and figure that out in fanfiction. Its almost like he's got two personalities, one is more what we see in Crisis Core and the other is everything afterwards. Honestly I kind of blame Veld, he was supposed to be the example to Tseng of what leadership looks like. Either that or Tseng decided to change because it was the only way he could keep doing his job and keep his humanity. Also we don't really see it in Rebirth but I've always liked that Tseng has a vicious side too. I think the biggest example is in The Kids Are Alright, when he lays into that doctor who conned people out of money. I would like to see more of this side of Tseng in the next installment tbh, I feel like this is an important aspect to his personality. Like his cool veneer isn't thick enough to withstand something he deems dispiciple, that scene left a lasting impression on me as its like a switch flips. Its one of the things that's actually terrifying about Tseng, he goes from cool and calm to violent in the blink of an eye. Rebirth doesn't show it so well I don't think, but I suppose nothing's really happened to make him do it. I just find it fascinating that considering what he does for a living, a doctor scamming people is what sets him off. He is a literal murderer but a man conning the poor makes him angry. You know, Aerith's death would make for a great exploration of this side of Tseng. The man is probably one of the most dangerous Turks, the others are much more honest with themselves and their feelings. You know where you stand with Reno, Rude and Elena. Tseng is like the person who pushes down all his feelings until one day they just explode. At least, that's my impression. No clue if this makes any sense, its more of a vague ramble tbh. But I am having thoughts and these thoughts need to be written down, helps me get things in order in my head for later fanfic purposes.

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soubiapologist · 4 months

Note

Hi, this might be a silly question, but my mind is stuck on this. So a few hours ago I watched the first episode of the Loveless anime for the first time, and I am intrigued. After the first episode I was a bit confused and decided to take a moment to check the wiki for the fighter & sacrifice deal, just to make sure I got that part of the world building—this turned into a rabbit hole and I’m left with some more confusion.

So what I gathered so far: there are people born with magical abilities and there are normal people without magic. The first group is also the one that has soulmates, sort of? Which then brings up the fighter & sacrifice thing. And here’s where I’m hung up: why are the teams fighting each other? Like does all their fighting training from childhood on have a bigger purpose? It looks like the ones with magic abilities are a minority so training and making fighting each other the main deal seems… counterintuitive? In all the digging I did I realised how little that whole aspect was brought up. Maybe it’s a me issue—either bc I went in with a wrong impression/expectation or just my impatience/not trying the manga first.

So now I wonder: how important is that world building in the story aside from it being the setting that enhances/enables some of the abuse? Does it get more fleshed out in the manga or is it left vague bc it’s really more about the characters themselves, their developments, trying to heal their traumas etc (which is totally fine)? I just walked into this curious about the fighter & sacrifice dynamic that I had heard some vague stuff about before trying the anime.

Thank you in advance :)

ok so hiiiii thank you for sending me this aaaaask i have no idea why i'm the person of all of us you picked to ask loveless questions but i'm so humbled omg......... <- ego inflating massively and kicking my legs back and forth and giggling

ugggghh this is really hard to answer because a lot of stuff in loveless is either left vague intentionally or not um. finished because the mangaka fucked off for like half a decade and has shown signs of like. mulling around on the idea of returning but it's been dead in the water for half a decade and there's still a LOT of unanswered questions but i'll do my best to answer what i thhhhhiiink you're asking?

i've read that yun kouga was inspired to make loveless in part by the buddy battle media that was popular at the time like pokemon/digimon etc but idk how accurate that is it's just something i read on twitter when shit was Blowing Up a few days back from some rando i don't have an actual source on that but ANYWAY yun kouga loves Fucking Tropes and Deconstructing Them And Being Fucked Up With Them it's a whole Thing so...... keep that in mind lol, she loves to present you with something and then go PSYCH YOU THOUGHT and then when you're like MAN she really got me wtf she goes PYSCH GOT YOU AGAIN and this continues on for many many year. where was i going with this. ANYWAY!!!!!!!

so the thing about the soulmates system which is what i'll call it for convenience's sake going forward is that it isssss one of those things we don't have a lot of information on, haha. we can make a lot of assumptions about the symbolic meaning of it but we don't really know on a literal level enough to say where it came from or how it like. WORKS, but on a meta level loveless is VERY invested in the power of language. i believe in one of the essays published in the tokyo pop releases it's mentioned that in the spell battles the spells are influenced partly by like the amount of strokes in the kanji or something idr i donnnnn't have my copies of either the TP or viz releases on me and i don't recall them being included in any scanlation i've seen. loveless is one of those series that does involve some cultural signifiers that are hard or even impossible to parse as westerners but i don't think that they make up so much of the story that it takes a TON away from the story if you don't get them.

mild spoilers ahead;

i CAN tell you that midori and ai aka breathless do show up again, several times (they are cute and i love them) and do have narrative significance, especially ai. i think in the beginning they're just setting up the spell system and letting you know that it's a thing and telling you about the dynamic between fighter and sacrifice for the most part. i don't think the battles themselves are that important outside of kind of being action setpieces and showing the dynamic between the characters BUT the POWER SYSTEM that they use for the battles and the fact that the battles are a thing at all is very significant to the themes of the story. if that makes sense haha. it's sort of hard to explain without like. doing a play by play of literally every part of the story and also without spoiling soubi's uh........ deal so to speak which really recontextualizes basically the entire story once you find out about it somewhere between volumes 3 and 5 i don't. entirely remember. also the whole deal with seimei is uh........ ((gesturing vaguely and grimacing and looking back at the audience for help)) integral. to the understanding why they're fighting in the first place. the first part of loveless is sort of a convoluted slog of bullshit because of characters intentionally obfuscating information for various reasons but it is. mostly intentional in this. loveless is at its core a story about systems of power and an exercise in exploring disempowerment within those systems and having a literal magic battle system using the thing that we most commonly use in the really real world use to navigate interpersonal relationships (language) is an important facet of exploring that, despite the LITERAL battles not really representing that, the EXISTENCE of the battles does, if that makes sense? it also relies heavily on visual language, such as the thing with the cat ears and the bondage, which both seem like fetish bullshit (and honestly definitely probably are to some degree) but both have extremely important functions w/r/t the narrative and storytelling regarding disempowerment and interpersonal relationships.

tl;dr they are fighting for a reason, the reason these people have powers isn't really explained but it's sorrrrt of implied to be some kind of bloodline + genetic thing at one point or another but we don't really know for sure, [the following is purely my opinion] my reading of it is that it's a criticism of the way the nuclear family enables abuse partially through the idea of a One True Love which is something popular in shoujo, and loveless is a deconstruction of a lot of bl and more broadly speaking shoujo tropes.

additionally i would like to say that you are not going to understand what is going on in loveless from one read i would say it takes at least two to really start DIGGING into the meat of it and frankly every time i've reread it i've noticed something new to think about. it's deep! it's dense! it's the nekomimi mariana trench. loveless is an investment. it's like a mortgage or something

#in that it is extremely draining but worth it and will follow you until you die #if you need elaboration or whatever i'd be glad to uh. elaborate #or if you have other questions haha #i would say that if you aren't hooked by the time [redacted] shows up For Real then it might not be for you #you will know who [redacted] is when they show up if you're like ''woah is that [redacted]?'' no #if you're like ''OH FUCK OHHHHHHHHHHHH FUCK IT'S [REDACTED] AND HERE FUCK FUCK FUUUUUCK FUCK'' yeah that's them

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