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icyschreviews · 2 years

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A Review of Dragon Age 2

Sweet Home Kirkwall

Disclaimer: This review is colossal. Why don’t you put on a kettle in the background so it’ll stop you from trying to read this whole thing at once. Enjoy.

What is it with niche games trying to become more mainstream? I get why developers want more people to play their games. Game development is a rocky industry and building up a large fan base can cushion any bumps you might encounter down the road. However niches exist for a reason and going mainstream comes at a cost. A niche caters to some specific need of some specific audience and is tailor-made to deliver that experience. Usually when you try making a game for everyone, you end up with a game for no one.

This is a subject that comes up often with expanding franchises. Developers who steer into more mainstream waters quickly realize that it’s a polarizing endeavor. Your core audience will be pissed that you desecrated the original experience, while the general public will glance over your efforts with mild indifference. Specificity is what gets people hooked on things and mainstream games are only able to peek interest by flaunting fancy graphics or over-promising open-world shenanigans.

Somehow in the early 2010s, sequels to two franchises made this mistake: The Witcher 2 and Dragon Age 2. It’s eerie how many things these two games have in common. Both of their predecessors were old school RPGs. Both were trying to make themselves more approachable to a wider audience. And, most prominently, both yielded questionable results.

The comparisons end with the way these games went about achieving their goals. The Witcher 2 scrapped everything from the first game and re-envisioned itself as an action orientated Assassin’s Creed lookalike, while Dragon Age 2 tried to improve on the old formula. I.e. The Witcher 2 had the liberty of being bad on its own terms, while DA2 got crushed under the weight of its predecessor.

Let’s get the obvious out of the way, Dragon Age: Origins is a cult classic. Despite its limited resources, this was a game of enormous scope which delivered on absolutely everything it set out to do. It presented the peek of its genre at the time of its release. You don’t just follow up on something like that. You need time and space to flesh out were you want to take the franchise next.

In comes the Bioware magic. You say we’ve got only two years to develop a sequel to a genre defining game? Don’t worry, we’ll just crunch the developers’ bones a little harder this time. Everything wrong with DA2 starts and ends with this bullshit. This is a game that reaches some incredible heights while simultaneously being jam-packed with blank spaces where the devs just threw their hands up and collapsed under their desks.

Now, where do we being?

Why don’t we start at the same place the game does - the character creator.

The character creator in Origins was never mind blowing, but somehow seeing the exact same one in DA2 made it disappointing. I’m not sure why that is. Maybe because it offers the same hair cuts which are recognizable from prominent NPCs in Origins. Maybe because the interface tries (and fails) to be all slick and modern. Maybe because it’s been a few years and you’d expect so see some improvements.

Either way, I imported a hipster haircut (blessed be the mods) and chose a slightly darker skin tone. I knew from previous playthroughs that your family’s appearance changes to match yours. However when the game booted up, I was greeted to the default chalk white family preset. Maybe the mods confused it. I pondered whether I should start over, but then decided to roll with it.

My head cannon for the rest of the playthrough was that mama Hawk had an illegitimate firstborn. To my amusement, the game kept throwing me bones to support this theory. When I wondered how my character would have inherited the magic DNA if she didn’t share the same daddy as Bethany, mama Hawk told me that her side of the family was also plagued with mages. On one occasion, Aveline remarked to Carver: “I guess there’s a resemblance between the two of you after all.” When Carver told her that of course there’d be since I was his sister, Aveline was quick to correct him: “No, silly, I meant you uncle.” Splendid. Now if anyone asks, Varric made up the events of the Legacy DLC.

If you look at our family portrait, you’ll realize that mom had a thing for the mailman.

Once the prologue ends, the game excitedly drops you in the middle of Kirkwall, only for you to find… Nothing. The town is comprised of a bunch of rectangular squares that all look alike. Other than merchants, who aren’t selling anything thrilling, there are no NPCs to talk to, nothing in this entire maze of reshuffled assets that could tell you the story of the town you just entered. You walk into a stuffed brothel house and none of the patrons have anything interesting to say. Forget interesting, they don’t have anything to say at all! It’s a prime example of an empty game world if there ever was one.

Back in Origins, there were so many interesting people you could meet. Like the dwarf who wanted to study at the Circle. Or the lyrium smuggling mage who was hiding in a closet. Or the Dalish who needed help hooking up with his girlfriend. Or that one sister in the Denerim market who couldn’t get her chants right. Or Wade! God, just give me more Wade. In DA2, I have Hubert and… And?

Once you’ve spent your first hour wandering around empty hallways, you’ll realize how the game wants you to approach it - by following quest markers. At first I was glad I didn’t have to circle around desolate levels. I could spot a marker on the world map and jump straight there without being reminded of how boring Kirkwall is.

Even though the markers were helpful at first, I soon realized that click, click, clicking from one objective to another became a chore. Since I didn’t have to keep track of where quests were, I had no idea what I was signing up for whenever I selected a location with a marker on it. I stopped engaging with the world directly and started interacting with it solely through the UI. This kind of design defeats the whole exploratory nature of RPGs. Worst of all, the markers don’t even show up for some side quest. I had to look at the wiki to know where to go.

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I miss the chance encounters from Origins. It made the illusion of traveling so much more compelling. You couldn’t just hop from one location to another, you had to prepare accordingly. What if bandits ambushed you? Or a pack of rabid wolves? Or a handsome assassin? My, I have to prepare for that one especially. Bodahn, fetch my finest piece of lingerie, quick! The encounters even changed to reflect the state of the world. As the darkspawn horde approached, you stumbled upon your allies defending the side of the rode. In DA2 you get intercepted only ones with Fenris. I completely forgot it was feature until then.

The most miserable failure at trying to populate this world with content are the automatic fetch quests. Every once in a while, you’ll loot a random sack and find someone’s dirty knickers. The game will add a new quest to your journal asking you to return the unmentionables to their rightful owner. You’ll immediately be told who the owner is and where to find them. There is absolutely no additional context to any of these. The NPC in question will spew out one of three stock lines thanking you for your kindness and then reward you with some gold and XP. They could have just lowered the XP requirements instead of padding the game with this nonsense.

I have no idea what half of these are referring to.

I’d argue that the locations themselves don’t look half bad (aside from the awful wet paper textures which are plastered all over the under city). This game clearly had some strong art direction. For all its faults, DA2 is the most visually striking out of all of the Dragon Age games. The cut scenes frequently frame the action from cinematic camera angles, the loading screens are beautifully stylized and you could take a bunch of selfies at Kirkwall’s more prominent locations.

I also love the design of your companions, so much so that I don’t mind that you can’t change their attire. Each one of them has a unique look which immediately sets them apart from the rest of the cast. The armor sets you get with the DLCs are impeccably designed and once put on justify Hawk’s MC status.

Where the art falls short is not its quality, but rather its quantity. Care and attention has been put into each of the game’s main actors, be that character or location, but not much else received the same treatment. Regular NPCs have a hard time matching the flare brought on by your companions and Kirkwall barely changes after the time skips. As far as I can tell, the only thing that differs across acts is the time of day - progressing from early morning to late afternoon. Do they want to put me asleep? They don’t even switch the textures to make the buildings look more weathered.

Origins had similar limitations with its assets, but it handled them much more gracefully. Yes, everyone and their grandmother wore the same pair of rogue skirts, but it didn’t catch the eye much since none of your companions was standing out in a flashy leotard. Similarly everyone in Ferelden was shopping at the same Ikea, but the designers cleverly offset this by crafting uniquely shaped levels and decorating them in different ways. Origins showed that reused assets don’t have to be a setback if you apply them in creative ways.

Contrary to that, DA2 is such a painfully obvious copypasta that it’s hard not to get aggravated. Its locations have been significantly scaled back compared to Origins, yet it somehow manages to accomplish even less with more assets at hand. Even when you are treated to one of its finer pieces of art, it’s like stumbling upon a flower in a desert.

If only the entire game was as stylish as its loading screens.

The most prominent rash which speaks of DA2’s condition are the codex entries. It might sound petty to complain about them, but they’re a perfect indication of unhealthy world design. In Origins, codex entries were used as optional bits of information that could boost the knowledge you already possessed. They were evenly distributed, as not to overwhelm you, and always relevant to the topic at hand. If I was heading into Orzammar for the first time, you bet an entry about the town’s history would wait for me in a convenient spot.

If Origins handled its codex entries like icing carefully spread across a cake, DA2 just splotched that icing onto an empty plate. You enter Kirkwall for the first time and it’s nothing but codex entries shoveled in your face. Instead of using them to enhance the experience, DA2 is leaning on its codex entries like a crutch to hold up the rest of the world building. It’s not enough that they’re still well written. Most of them are copy-pasted from Origins and once I realized that, I stopped paying them any attention.

Most often, you’ll find codex entries where they have no business being in the first place. I once stumbled upon a book about Orlesian court drama in a Tal-Vashoth camp. If the game wanted to make a point out of this, they could have turned it into a fun little NPC encounter. Imagine a Qunari who just became an outcast and wanted to learn more about the outside world. He gets his hands on this weird book about the French Game of Thrones and is completely enamored by it. He might even be into shoes if I could just get Leliana here.

So, what did Lady Cecilie do next?

Sadly the game’s troubles with exposition don’t stop there. Everyone trusts you way too easily in Act I. In Origins you were a Grey Warden and that title carried some weight. People were familiar with your mission and its importance and thus were more likely to entrust you with their problems.

In DA2 Hawk’s a mercenary who makes a living doing other people’s dirty work. However people don’t just hire you - they dump their entire psychiatrist’s report in your lap. It’s the most jarring with some of the companions’ introductions. Isabela doesn’t even finish flapping her little skirts, while remarking that she’s never met you, before she starts telling you about her naval accident. Similarly, Anders opens up to you about Justice before you’ve had the chance to properly introduce yourself. Like maybe wait a sec before telling me all about your nasty STD.

I wish the game took a little bit more time to built Hawk up. It’s all fine and dandy once you get to Act II, but your future status as a celebrity doesn’t justify the mental gymnastics you have to perform in the beginning. You can’t shoehorn Hawk into every situation and hope their MC status will justify them being there. What’s the point of having a story about building yourself up from the dirt if people are going to treat you as special right off the bat?

A good example of this is an incredibly stupid quest I stumbled upon along Kirkwall’s coastline. Do you remember Zathrian and the werewolves from Origins? Well, an elf from his clan was arguing with an ex-werewolf. The elf wanted to kill the human and the human was trying to come to a peacefully resolution. The game asked me to resolve the conflict. I beg your pardon? You want Hawk to do what? This is not the Warden we’re talking about. Who are these people to Hawk anyway? To stay in character, I let them both go without coming to a decision. Usually my companions react to these sort of things, but even they were confused.

Who could say no to this dashing face?

It all gets incredibly frustrating if you’re playing as a mage. You’re supposed to be this lifelong apostate who’s always been careful about concealing their magic, but the game has you doing fetch quests for the Templars like it’s no big deal. I know the game wants to build up the conflict between the mages and the Templars early on, but why on earth would an armed organization like the Templars entrust highly confidential matters to a Lowtown nobody?

Generally the game takes your magic into account very sparingly. One of the few good examples is during Fenris’ initialization. He confronts you about being a mage after seeing you in combat. This comes off very naturally since he’s just met you and you really were swirling your staff around like crazy. Sadly in most cases, your magic will go unnoticed as if everyone in the vicinity was having a seizure or thinking it’s just fireworks. At the peek of its absurdity, the game had me showing off in front of freaking knight commander Cullen. I even rubbed some Anders in his face, but sure enough he didn’t notice.

The worst example by far is when you meet Meredith for the first time. She walks over to you and whispers in your ear how she knows that you are a mage. The game drops this bombshell like it’s nothing. What do you mean she knows? How long has she known? How did she find out? Why has she been tolerating Hawk? Is she overlooking any other mages in town as well? How does this clash with her religious beliefs? What is she gaining out of this?

The game never answers any of these questions. It’s pretty obvious that these omissions are the result of trying to equalize the story across all 3 playable classes. I wish they only let you play as a mage as they did with restricting your race to human. In a story that’s already centered around mages and Templars, this would have allowed them to go into a lot more detail.

Yes, tell me all your dirty little Templar secrets.

Most of the aforementioned issues kinda fix themselves once you make it to Act II. I hate that phrase: get X hours into a game and it becomes good, but it’s really true in case of DA2. For all its emptiness, Kirkwall starts feeling like home and it only takes a few magic tricks to do it. Recurrence is key here.

Events keep moving forward and everyone’s issues escalate over time creating the feeling of an interconnected world which was missing from the start. Most quests you were doing in Act I extend themselves across the other two acts. Helping some random kid with his nightmares in Act I is fine, but seeing a letter from him in Act II immediately gets me invested. Although, callbacks would have been even grander if half of the NPCs were actually memorable.

E.g. the Bone Pit was a good quest on its own. It served to show what Kirkwall had in store for Hawk’s fellow Fereldens. Sure, slavery hasn’t been a thing in a while, but does it really matter if you still have to toil away under a rich prick? They could have ended it there, but my exploitative business partner and our unfortunate mine became like a sitcom plot. Which monster is plaguing my poor workers this week? Not to mention the moral conundrum of being an upstart amongst overworked and underpaid refugees.

Hawk might not yet be a hero in Act II (pardon me, Champion), but they are wealthy enough to engage in the town’s politics. Believably, might I add. At this point you’ve completed a major expedition, invested in a mine and possibly taken over from your old mercenary boss, to name a few. I can now enter the viscount’s office and talk business without it being awkward. Yeah, I just moved uptown, next to you. Don’t you know who I am?

Started from the bottom, now we’re here.

It’s also in Act II that DA2’s story finally starts taking shape. Most fantasy and sci-fi stories fall back on the tropes of their respective genres, one way or another. DA2 manages to swerve around them like cones on a racing track and it owes that debt to its predecessor. Despite being a story about saving the world from monsters, Origins was still superbly written, even compared to standards outside of games media. Instead of trying to one-up it with some greater crisis of worldly importance, DA2 decided to pick what Origins already planted in the backyard. This is a game that tackles some incredibly complex issues and none of its points feel outdated.

You have a widely spread religion which justifies imprisoning a group of people because, according to their holy text, they were born with a cardinal sin. But what if that group of people posed an actual threat? How would you mitigate that danger? Is the church really wrong for wanting to build a system to control that?

What about the system itself? How would you keep tabs on it? What would you do if those in power started abusing it? Could you really blame those subjected to it for rebelling against their oppressors? What it the oppressed went to extreme measures to gain their freedom? Would you judge them? What if in doing so they caused the exact harm the church wanted to prevent in the first place? Would that prove the church right? Were they correct in subduing this group of people or were the limitations set upon them the ones that caused them to lash out? How would you break that cycle?

What about class inequality? If you could snap your fingers and abolish slavery, would everyone’s lives be better in the morning? You might be a free man according to the law, but what is freedom if you don’t have the means to survive? How is living in poverty and not being able to escape from it any different from being a slave? The rich are still rich and, at the end of the day, you’re forced to work for the same people you were calling your masters yesterday.

Let’s not forget about the xenophobia. Where do you draw the line between being racist and fighting back against indoctrination? Were the people who accepted a new religion brainwashed or did they do it on their own volition? Should you value a more orderly society at the expense of individuality? Can a single person really be trusted to make decision which are in everyone’s best interest or do we all eventually fall prey to our own desires?

... No.

On top of that, there are family matters to attend to. You are the oldest sibling in a family that recently lost its father figure. You are entrusted with that role which would be a great responsibility on its own, but wait, here comes the war! How do you keep your family safe in such circumstances? How do you handle the inevitable failures? Do you blame yourself for not being able to protect your siblings? What do you do if your own brother becomes an extremist? Do you cave under the judgement in your mother’s eyes? Do you look at your alcoholic uncle and see a picture of yourself in the future?

This is a lot and I’m not even sure I covered half of it. I can’t decide if the game explored these topics in enough detail. It certainly could have, but maybe trying to come up with the moral of the story would have undermined the effect. None of its questions have simple answers and this is reflected in the myriad of conflicts which spring across the game. DA2 certainly left me thinking, which is much more than I can say for most games.

It does miss the landing in some of the more emotional scenes. Your other sibling’s departure is a prominent moment in the story, no matter how it plays out. For me Carver joined the Wardens. He shows up out of nowhere at the end of Act II and scurries off before you’ve had the chance to talk to him. Hawk’s trying to have this heart to heart conversation, but Carver’s like: I’m busy, TTL. It makes your final reconciliation with him in Act III quite hollow when it could have been one of the story’s more impactful scenes.

When it really rolls up its sleeves, the game can deliver some incredible moments. Aveline treats you to a story about her father after you try gifting her a shield, prompting you both to reminisce on the loss of your parents. Merrill’s entire quest line is a heartbreak and do I even need to bring up Anders?

Oh, sweet baby, it’s only going to get worse from here.

The framing device used to hold everything together is a brilliant little narrative technique that perfectly fits the kind of story DA2 is trying to tell. You play as a war refugee who slowly rises to power and gains influence within the city of Kirkwall. As your characters becomes famous, so are your achievements told and retold until its hard to distinguish fact from fiction. DA2 capitalizes on this by letting Varric, the person who brought most of the stories about Hawk to life, retell the events of the game.

This works great on so many levels. As Hawk, you stumble upon Varric multiple times during the game as he’s making stuff up on the fly in front of an engrossed crowd. You get to watch as Hawk’s public persona takes shape and then later as it spins out of control and becomes an entity of its own. You loose ownership of your won ethos just as you’re swept away by the ever more volatile situation in Kirkwall.

With Varric being such a professional liar, you can’t tell how many of the game’s events are free from embellishment. DA2 plants this seed of doubt before you’ve even had the chance to craft your own character, as Varric tries to serve his best rendition of the Champion of Kirkwall to an exasperated Cassandra. The game breaks the 4th wall like this a few more times, delivering some good gags and letting Varric remind you who’s telling this story.

Besides keeping you on your toes, the framing device also serves as a great hook. There’s no better way to engage your audience than giving them a riddle to solve. DA2 starts by telling you that something of importance has happened in the world and then proceeds to do its own thing while you wonder how the pieces fit together.

Oh, but none of that hard work would have been worth it if it weren’t for that ending. Lots of stories that wager the fate of the entire world end with a dud, but DA2 obliterates the status quo just as it does with one of Kirkwall’s landmarks. I absolutely love an ending that’s not afraid to rain havoc. If Origins left the world of Thedas mended and at peace, then DA2 slashed it open and let it bleed out on the floor.

Don’t mind us, Grand Cleric. We’re just setting up the fireworks for the festivities.

There are a lot of weird design decisions in this game, but the most bizarre one is without a doubt the appropriation of Mass Effect’s dialogue wheel. I have no idea what the creative leads at Bioware were smoking at the time. I guess a silent protagonist is not very appealing if you’re trying to edit a fancy trailer for E3. Either way, it meshes with the rest of Dragon Age’s mechanics like oil with water.

Origins’ dialogue system might not have been the most cinematic, but it was diverse, versatile and most of all precise. DA2’s dialogue wheel fails to deliver any of that. Your responses now come in strictly 3 categories: paragon, renegade and jokester (I’ll continue using Mass Effect’s lingo if you don’t mind). Unlike Origins, your responses are bucketed into these categories and there’s no way of escaping it. Sometimes one of the options will be redundant; sometimes none of the options will be able to convey what you want to say. By not bucketing its responses, Origins was able to fine tune every conversation for much greater effect.

What’s an even graver sin is that you can’t reliably predict what your character is going to say. Two previous Mass Effect games already had this issue, so I don’t understand why it was ignored in DA2 as well. Sometimes the response will match the blurb, sometimes you’ll come off as meek or ignorant and sometimes Hawk will spew out an incredibly stupid joke. For better or for worse, NPCs will correctly react to Hawk’s actual response which will leave you quite bewildered if you had something else in mind.

I tried out a mod which replaces the dialogue wheel with Origins’ numbered list, but that didn’t really work out for me. I had a couple of issues with it. First, it’s not always clear which option fits into which bucket. It’s even harder to distinguish the optional responses which appear on the left side of the wheel from those on the right. Also, reading out what your character is going to say and then having to listen to the entire thing again gets tiresome pretty quickly.

Where’s the option to tell Meredith to “go back to the Gallows like a good girl”?

If I had to compliment one aspect of the dialogue system, I’d tentatively go for the new personality mechanics. Each time you pick a response, the game keeps tracks of how many responses of that type you already chose. If you stack enough responses of a certain type, Hawk’s personality will change to match it. Meaning that if you were being consistently nice, Hawk will continue being nice on autopilot for pieces of the conversation you are not in direct control of.

This is a more nuanced system than Mass Effect’s paragon/renegade scheme, although not by much. I’d love to see a more fleshed out version of it, but not necessarily in a Dragon Age game. Combined with the dialogue wheel, the system is not transparent nor flexible enough to allow for precise role-playing.

As for the personalities themselves, I have to commend the renegade one. In Mass Effect renegade options were either cartoonishly evil or needlessly cruel. Most people went with that route on second playthroughs just for the lolz. In DA2 a renegade Hawk is determined, consistent and brutally honest if need be. They never came off as a closet psychopath, but someone with unwavering convictions who is prepared to make tough decisions.

The personality I disliked the most ended up being the jokester, although this was my preferred play style in Origins. The jokes veered on the funny side, but the personality itself was mostly useless. The dialogue options rarely advanced the conversation and only benefited you if you were stacking friendship points with Varric or Isabela. I mostly used it as the neutral response (and neutrality in DA2 is the devil) or when I felt particularly cheeky. It felt wildly out of place in dire situations and is also the hardest one to predict since humor is so subjective.

Yeah, you tell them, Hawk.

Together with the 3 types of responses, additional options are offered on the left side of the wheel similar to how it was done in Mass Effect. Besides inquiring further, you’ll occasionally be given a special dialogue choice depending on your personality, à la let the renegade throw someone out the window. These special choices are great and usually lead to more beneficial outcomes. Alas, after glancing at the wiki, I realized that they are few and far between. What a complete waste of a promising system.

You’re also able to call on one of your companions if the situation at hand is somehow related to them. From what I can tell, this is a completely new feature and I absolutely love it. It lends itself to some of the best interactions. Aveline can help you shake up some of her unruly deputies in the Hanged Man, Fenris lends you his knowledge about the Qunari while speaking with the Arishok and Anders is absolutely essential if you’re bringing your sibling into the Deep Roads.

Other than that, the dialogue wheel’s sufficiency varies greatly from scene to scene. E.g. at the end of Act II, you get the option to storm the Qunari held up in the Keep or to make a distraction in order to save the hostages. Pardon me, but what? Hasn’t anyone been paying attention? Qunari don’t take hostages. If they thought someone was useless, they would have killed them by now. Otherwise they wouldn’t hold potential converts as bargaining chips. Wasteful thinking is against their creed. If I have been mindful of their religion, why not give me a third dialogue option? Forget me, Fenris is standing right there in the background. Let him overrule this.

Best dialogue option in the entire game, hands down.

I’m not sure how I feel about the companion’s friendship and rivalry system. It’s basically the same one from Origins just beefed up a bit. Since the companions are well fleshed out, it’s easy to guess how they’d react to a certain situation making the system very transparent. This never comes at the expense of the writing and the mechanic never feels gamified.

The writers did a great job of distributing your companions beliefs. Most conflicts offer binary solutions (for better or for worse) and your companions tend to be split 50-50. No matter how they may be divided in a certain situation, each companion ends up being a different combination of things. You can’t possibly make friends or rivals with everyone, so you have to pick and choose who to align with. This keeps the tension in your party high from start to finish. Companions also have topics they are indifferent to, which is a touch I greatly appreciate.

Besides talking to them directly, you can also find out about a companion’s beliefs from their inputs in group conversations. They never butt in, rather engage in a way that feels natural and that keeps the conversation flowing. I’m reminded of Carver gritting through his teeth whenever I provoked the Templars or Isabela just being a savage on Aveline’s date. I always felt like I was fully informed about my companions’ preferences and that I could guess their reaction with near perfect certainty.

Only these two can manage disagreeing while agreeing on something at the same time.

The companions’ preferences might be transparent, but the quests themselves sure as hell aren’t. It’s not always apparent from a quest’s introduction what it’ll be about. Therefore you can’t reliably tell which companion’s points will be up for grabs, i.e. which one of them to take along. There are a limited number of opportunities to get these points and the companions’ personal quests are walled off behind certain thresholds. I found myself skimming the wiki before each quest so I could maximize my profits by choosing the best party layout. This is not the ideal way to play, especially if you don’t want to get spoiled.

It’s also harder to progress your relationship with some companions than with others. Let me whip up my cheat sheet real quick cause where in god’s name are you supposed to get points for Isabela? From my time perusing the wiki, I could barely find anything miss pirate has a reaction to. Begging for coin in Lowtown yields more profit then fishing for her affection. For comparison’s sake, you can get an easy 50 points with Merrill from evil tomes alone.

To add insult to injury, Isabela is the one companion you really don’t want to stay neutral with. I remember being able to scrounge 50% friendship on my first ever playthrough before knowing the twist. I guess ignorance is bliss because this time around I barely got some rivalry points in. I decided to give her a gift, hoping it would drive the scale further to the right, only for the game to apply friendship points instead. Gee, thanks DA2.

If I was hostile to someone, I wouldn’t expect them to be likelier to stick around than if I was neutral instead. I wish the game made that clearer from the start. Having to meet a quota to unlock further interactions with a companion really knocks the subtlety out of the system. What if I think Isabela is a genuinely fun and accepting person, but would also like if she stopped acting so selfish and started taking responsibility for her actions? If you go by your instincts, you’ll only swing around the scale and won’t ever leave ground zero. Similarly, I want to condemn Merrill’s clan for ostracizing her, but that comes packaged with support for her blood magic. It’s like the writers created these compelling people, but the designers couldn’t come up with a system that let you interact with them naturally.

Do try to explain yourself, Isabela.

While we’re on the subject of companions, was there ever a minefield as deadly as the romances in DA2? The devs must have known that a lot of fans played Origins like it was a dating sim. Origins’ romanceable characters were perfectly divided into categories you could find on any fan fiction website: the sweet attentive guy, the sarcastic not-like-other-girls goth, the flamboyant ladies man and the weird chick. The game was comfortable with letting you live out your fantasies while never compromising the quality of its writing in any way.

Conversely, DA2 is here to fuck with you.

Now, I’m not implying that the romances in DA2 are bad. Quite the opposite - I think they’re brilliant. The characters are just as well written and not a sliver less compelling than their Origins’ counterparts. Sure, you could still squeeze them into recognizable tropes, but the main difference comes from how DA2 lets you interact with them.

In most RPGs, selecting a romantic dialogue option leads to a favorable outcome. This is purely contextual in DA2. Try flirting with someone while they are distraught and witness the outcome. You might be fooled into drooling over one of your companions, but you’ll only miss the fact that these people have issues. They’re in no emotional state to date you, yet date them you shall.

Watch the bad boy with the anime hair as he walks in to ruin your life. It’s like seeing a car crash in slow motion. I told myself I wasn’t going to fall for it again, but oopsie-daisy. You know what they say: trick me ones, shame on you, trick me twice, shame on Isabela for making moves in my territory. If Sebastian doesn’t come in quickly to swoop me off my feet, we might have a problem on our hands.

Say you stop deluding yourself into thinking you could fix Fenris and actually go for Seb. What’s that like? Well, my choir boy is as sweet as sugar cane, but he gets more and more bewildered with each decision you make contradicting the Bible. If you try to get up and personal with him, he’ll wave his hand and throw you a Beyonce. You better put a ring on it before you get any filthy thoughts in your head.

Maybe you can’t wait for Bioware to release Sebastian’s honeymoon DLC. Then a bite of the cherry perhaps? Why not try Isabela if you’re missing some of Zevran’s laid back energy? She’s completely chill, not someone that would freak out and leave you hanging. Right, Isabela? Isabela?

Ok, ok, then you could take out the shy girl and show her around town. I’m sure she doesn’t have any dangerous hobbies. Or what about the sweet guy with the sad puppy dog eyes? I’m sure nothing could go wrong if you just… No, Anders, what are you doing? Stop!

You get the idea. DA2 doesn’t give a damn about your feelings. It’s not here to cater to your fantasies. It’ll trample all over your emotions and I love it for it. It knows you can’t be lovey-dovey with broken people and it doesn’t shy away from letting things get very messy. For all the satisfaction it denies you, it makes your companions even more believable and your ties to them even stronger.

Stop trying to seduce me!

Most of the heavy lifting needed to bring this world to life is done by your companions. Their interactions are wonderfully diverse and they behave as if they’ve built relationships free of Hawk’s involvement. They don’t just comment on each other’s current situation, but also visit one another at their homes. Varric will try to get favors from Aveline as soon as she moves into her new office. Aveline will complain to Fenris about having to change patrols around his house. Fenris will be burning through his wine collection with Isabela and she will be teaching Merrill some of her dirty card tricks. This makes your companions feel like an interwoven group of people rather than a bunch of isolated individuals who are just tagging along. If Hawk went away tomorrow, they’d continue frolicking uninterrupted.

The banter continues the tradition of being absolutely amazing. There are so many brilliant moments, I don’t know which one I’d rather quote. Although, if I were to make a top ten, Isabela would be featured in all of them. As hilarious as it is, the banter is more than just witty one-liners. It’s about how Aveline and Isabela turn from rivals to best friends. It’s how Sebastian helps Fenris rediscover his faith. It’s how Varric breaks his back to get Merrill home safely every night and so much more.

On a side note, can we just acknowledge what an absolute boss Aveline is? The woman gets skyrocketed into a position of power and doesn’t even bat an eyelid. She knows she’s gonna own it, so why bother being humble about it? If you try to come on to her, she’ll shoot you down like a bucket of ice water. You, the player character! This woman’s not gonna be just another notch on Hawk’s bed. She’s got her own line of suitors to worry about.

So, Donnic, what’s your take on redheads?

Wow, we’ve covered so much, we should be proud of ourselves! Lets see, did we miss anything? World design - check. Story - check. Art style -check. Companions - check. Co— Oh… Oh, no.

The combat was one of the main highlights in Origins despite being far from perfect. Stun-locking was a serious problem if you entered a room full of archers or golems. Enemies could perform melee attacks from across the room if they managed to successfully lock on to you (to be fair, this worked vice versa). Parts of the skill tree were severely bloated, especially for mages. By the end of the game, you couldn’t fit your entire arsenal into the quick bar, let alone keep it in mind in combat.

If you start DA2 right after Origins, it might feel like a palette cleanser. You’ll find only one ability waiting for you in the quick bar. What a relief! Once you get your first level up, you’ll see that the skill trees have been extensively groomed. Superfluous abilities have been removed and everything’s been repackaged to make a little bit more sense. This could have been a perfect place to start, expect it doesn’t ever build to much.

Difficulty in Origins didn’t just come from how much health enemies had and how much damage they dealt. It also varied based on the type of enemies you encountered. No room was ever randomly populated with foes. Each enemy was placed strategically, so you’d have to think about your positioning too. Where to put my warrior, where to put my mage? What if I have a rouge in my party? What if the enemy also has rogues? What if there are ranged units with a clear line of sight? All of this and more had to be taken into account.

DA2 throws any semblance of strategy out the window. Sure, you could still see enemies waiting for you as you entered a room (most of the time), but that’s where your power of foresight ends. Once you beat the first batch of enemies, at least one more will spawn out of tin air. Sometimes it’ll be only a few more chumps. Sometimes it’ll be an elite enemy. Sometimes two. Sometimes it’ll be a whole load of mother fuckers. I once watched as 10 shades spawned in front of me in a space no bigger than a broom closet.

How you’re supposed to plan ahead is beyond me. You have no idea of knowing what might come next. How should you manage your health and stamina? Should you hold off on using a potion? Will it be too late if you do? Will it be a waste if you don’t? What about firing abilities with a long cooldown?

There they come again, descending from the ceiling.

The enemy variety has also been desecrated. In Origins any enemy you encountered could have any combination of abilities found in your skill trees. This rewarded players who were familiar with their arsenal and who experimented with different builds. In DA2 all mages have the same two punch combination - magic barrier plus long ranged AOE. For some reason, the vanishing ability which was previously only available to rogues is now unlocked for every single class. Warriors can use it. Mages can use it. Rage demons can use it. Rage demons?!

To make matters worse, on harder difficulties everyone’s a bullet sponge. The only tactic you need to master is holding out longer than the other guy. Some mages have constitutions of tanks. Did they forget what the point of a mage was? In Origins if you saw a pack of blood mages coming at you from a distance, you’d soil your pants, but if you managed to close that gap the tides could turn very quickly. In DA2 not only do blood mages drain your health, they also have gigantic health bars of their own.

Starting from Act II, you’ll frequently stumble upon more challenging enemy encounters. They’re all optional, but that doesn’t change the fact that they’re absolutely dreadful. It’s endless arcane horrors, upon golems, upon shadow warriors. I started despising Sundermount because of this. It all just reminds me of Amgarrak. Ugh, don’t remind me of Amgarrak.

Each act also has nightly gangs you need to wipe out. They’re not even challenging, just the same boring rinse and repeat. You have to visit the same area multiple times in order to weed them out completely. Even so, they keep reappearing in each subsequent act. The game just switches up the names of the gangs. It’s the bloodthirsty sisters or the super shady dragon cult or the yet more generic slave drivers.

DA2 is one of those games where I don’t mind turning down the difficulty. Victory in combat isn’t given out to the smartest opponent, but to the one who manages to grit their teeth longer. I like my teeth just fine, so no thank you. Maybe the tactics screen could’ve sufficiently automated things for me, but the UI is so dreadful that I really couldn’t be bothered to fine tune it. Oh, did I mention that the UI is garbage? There you go, don’t say I forgot about it.

Yeah, you’re getting nerfed.

Oh, did you think I was done with the combat? Here’s a bullet list with a bunch more grievances:

Friendly fire is not a thing any more. When a Walking Bomb explodes, it annihilates all of the opponents in the vicinity, but doesn’t even scratch my comrades.

The camera has been ridiculously clipped. The maximum zoom is barely useful. Why can’t we have a top-down view like before?

Manual target selection is broken. It doesn’t reliably work if the target is at a different elevation than you. Shades are impossible to select while they are moving.

Likewise, AOE abilities are incredibly finicky to use when elevation enters the equation.

I like that they let you chain abilities. If my character is busy pulling off a more demanding spell, I can issue the next command without it being lost. Would have been nice if they also let me cancel animations. I’m a sitting duck for blood mages each time I want to conjure a storm.

They scrapped trap making, which was quite useless to begin with, but still let enemies set traps for you. This wouldn’t be a problem if the rogues in my party were kind enough to warn me in advance. Varric’s usually pretty chatty, but he barely opens his mouth before my foot steps down on a pressure plate.

Why can’t I control Britney? I mean my mabari. Couldn’t you control summons in Origins?

If you have your summon activated, it will disappear and go on cooldown as soon as you enter a new map. What’s the points of this? Each time I have to stand around and stare at the tapestries until it becomes available again.

Your summon can sometimes get locked out of boss rooms.

Does taunting even work? I couldn’t seem to get people off my fragile little mage ass.

Golems can still slam me from across the room. God forbid they removed that feature.

Is there any status effect that can be successfully applied to the god damn shadow warriors? I swear, not even the Maker’s wrath could touch them. Their barrier ability emits this horrible sound - the first time I heard it, I was convinced the game was glitching.

Not really a combat thing, but why can’t I see how many potions I have in my inventory when crafting new ones? I can’t even craft multiple potions at once, I have to click for every single one.

What’s the point of injury kits? In Origins once you embarked on a mission, you couldn’t back away from it easily. Therefore you had to prepare accordingly. In DA2 quests are short, so you can easily hop back home and heal your injuries. The kits only make sense in the DLCs where you can’t make a pit stop anytime you want.

What use is Mythal’s Favor if I can’t see exactly where my companions fell? I wasted a bunch of these trying to spot Fenris in a pile of corpses on the floor.

To go further into the matter, are Mythal’s Favors glitched or what? They just don’t work in some fights. Is there an ability that cancels them? Anders was able to revive companions just fine.

Sometimes when you tell your character to throw a grenade, they won’t reposition themselves for a clear shot. Instead, they’ll lob the damn thing at a wall. If I loose one more Mythal’s Favor like this, I swear to god…

To be fair, the bones for a good combat system are still here. DA2 becomes a lot more interesting once you’ve unlocked enough abilities to create your own combos. The brand new skill trees offer a bunch of interesting stuff and the companions’ unique abilities were the once I always invested in first. For example, the Force Mage skill tree is a blast. Its Pull of the Abyss ability knocks down enemies in a specified range and drags them all to one spot. This should be illegal. The skill trees are overflowing with abilities that blast your enemies away, but I haven’t found another one which lets you to pull them together. You can follow that up with anything you like: Cyclone, Walking Bomb, Chain Lighting, take your pick.

It’s a shame that the combos get stale pretty quickly. Since enemy encounters follow the same pattern throughout the entire game, you’ll be applying the same tactics over and over and over again. Just like Origins, DA2’s combat peaks around mid-game, but where Origins burned itself out from excessiveness, DA2 met its end by sheer monotony.

On to the dog pile with you.

DA2 has two DLCs which offer a couple more hours of quality content to break up the main story. They represent what the game could have been on a micro scale. Funnily enough, they excel at completely different things.

The Legacy DLC is where the combat really clicked into place. It introduces a variety of new enemy types mixed up with the old. The enemies are placed purposefully and combined in different ways across different arenas. The highlight goes to the big boys with the shields. They are only vulnerable from behind and they move around constantly, so you have to keep track of them along with all the other foes. The game also lets you utilize traps, giving you one more incentive to think about your positioning. It’s almost a miracle how the same combat system can feel completely different when dropped into hand-crafted dungeons. Even the boss is half decent, if not a bit gimmicky.

Likewise, the Warden’s Prison is an excellently crafted level which soothes the eyes after Kirkwall’s drabness. I especially like how they handled the codex entries. When you find one, your companions comment on it as if it was an actual piece of paper lying around in the world. It made me want to read them just so I could be part of the conversation.

This DLC is a bit thin when it comes to the story. The lore implications are huge, but Legacy never goes much into detail. I would have appreciated more interactions between my companions. I brought Anders and a Warden Carver with me and, despite them having more ties to the dilemma at hand than most, they rarely ever provided any additional thoughts.

Oh, hey there, little bro. The new uniform looks good on you.

Contrary to that, Mark of the Assassin doesn’t have much to add in terms of combat. It suffers from the same gameplay nuisances as the main game. There are a couple of annoying bullet sponge bosses - the Sky Horror being the first to come to mind. It’s one of those fights where I just laughed and dialed back the difficulty to Casual. Yes, give me all of the loot with none of the hair pulling.

The DLC even tries to sneak in a stealth section (pun intended). I appreciate the diversity, but Dragon Age please don’t. It’s half baked at best. It’s not entirely clear how easily the guards can spot you and they don’t react to simple things like opened doors.

You won’t be playing Mark of the Assassin for the combat anyway. No, this DLC is having itself a blast with the story alone. Hawk has never been this hilarious before. It’s like whoever was writing the companions’ banter finally realized the main character could join in on the fun. From imitating the Orlesian accent to going elbow deep in a dung pile, it never ends.

The newcomer Tallis is like Merrill if she got invited to more parties. When you’re done gossiping with servants and trying out the canapés, you’ll realize that she’s an excellent addition to the franchise. Besides covering herself with blood and squealing like a madman, she also provides a much needed perspective into the Qunari way of life.

And don’t think I didn’t notice my girl Leliana chilling in the corner. You can kick a bard out of Orlais, but you can’t ever kick the Orlesian court drama out of the bard, amirite? We were even treated to a little bit of “Teagan!” Chef’s kiss, mwah!

Just look at how much fun we’re having.

If I could circle back to The Witcher 2 again, there’s one more aspect where these two games differ entirely. You could take a hatchet and cleanly cut off the rotten flesh of The Witcher 2’s gameplay, while preserving the absolute jewel of its story. I have no conflicting feelings about that game, I know exactly what’s good and what’s not.

Contrary to that, DA2 is such a tangled mess, it’s impossible to sort it out. Some of the franchise’s best moments sit right around the corner from some of its worst. Whenever the writers blew me away with their social commentary, the dialogue system would box me into black and white decisions. Whenever I got giddy at the thought of slamming people into the ground, I’d stumble upon a hastily thrown together dungeon. Whenever I got excited by an act’s finale, the tedious side quests which surround the game’s few bright moments like a hungry void would lull me back into apathy. It’s enough to drive a person mad or make them write a 10k word review.

The game pours salt over my wounds each time it makes me think of Origins. So many of DA2’s design decision are in direct conflict with how old-school RPGs are meant to be played. Sure, there are lite RPGs out there and you could argue that DA2 falls into this category, but this is not a change I’m willing to accept easily. Origins was all about tweaking every little aspect of the game and watching as the dominoes fall into place. Not only does DA2 cut you short on that end, it doesn’t even commit to being a proper action RPG. It’s not nearly pompous enough to carry Mass Effect’s loose RPG framework, so it sits in this weird limbo of not really being anything definitive.

I shudder thinking what could have been had this game been given just one more year in development. Or two. Or, if I could be so bold, three. There’s so much passion on display here, but the artists’ feathers got plucked way too early. Origins might have taken a long time to complete, but the results can speak for themselves. Games with flashier graphics and huger levels will keep coming out, but none of them will be able to take the shine out of Origins. Contrary to that, DA2 doesn’t need any help tripping itself up and falling on its face.

Oh well, on to Inquisition, I guess. I’m sure none of DA2’s problem will carry over. Cheers, everyone.

Until next time, Hawk.

#game review #review #dragon age 2

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gffa · 2 years

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Hey Lumi, I have a tiny itty bitty silly question. I am ashamed to admit this (there is no anon option so I have to attach my face here and I’m crying) but all the Star Wars media I’ve been consuming so far is in the form of movies/tv shows/games and fanfiction.

I know, I know. It’s horrible, I should have went straight for the good sources a.k.a comics and books the way I did with Marvel/DC. It’s just that when it comes to Star Wars I have no idea where to start from and I get overwhelmed … Does that makes sense? I guess what I’m trying to ask is… where do I start from?

Because I wanna know EVERYTHING but I wanna read the proper works and not wookieepedia. And I can’t ask my best friend, she will absolutely laugh at me if she has to make me another list with titles to read or important pop culture things to see. You are my only hope.

Hi! First of all, I am firmly of the opinion that Star Wars generally works best when watched in priority + chronological release order, because the way Star Wars stories often work is that they assume you've seen/read the previous thing to base your current understanding off the other story, even if it's set as a backstory. For example, a lot of people suggest watching the prequels then the originals and I think that undercuts a lot of what you're meant to get out of the story. You're meant to know Anakin Skywalker becomes Darth Vader, that's a huge part of watching the prequels. You're meant to know that Palpatine is going to become the Emperor, there are all these little comments about future plans, you're meant to know what the Death Star is, so when you see the plans on Geonosis, you understand the gravity of what's happening here. This also applies to reading supplementary material, because the books and comics assume you've watched the movies and the TV shows first, often times your understanding of them is based on that knowledge. So, you're doing things right so far! And that's why I usually suggest, whatever you're looking to get into, whatever you're interested in reading, do it in order of release, because a lot of stories assume you've seen/read the stuff that's already released. The second issue is a bit more of a "It depends on what you're interested in!" one because, well, it depends on what you're interested in! XD If you're coming to me, generally, I'm going to assume you're interested in the prequels characters and my list of Must Read materials will cater to that. (I do have a more well-rounded list here, it's a bit old at this point, but honestly I wouldn't say any of the current books have been must reads in awhile, aside from maybe the Thrawn and Alphabet Squadron books. This is slightly more up to date, but has a lot of the same suggestions. XD) My recommendations are: - Darth Vader (2015 - Kieron Gillen) + Star Wars (2015 - Jason Aaron) - These two series are meant to be read concurrently for at least the first six issues, read issue #1 of SW, then issue #1 of DV, then issue #2 of SW, then issue #2 of DV, etc. They’re events crossing over into each other and are meant to be seen from different perspectives at the same time and it’s still one of the best series the Star Wars comics have had in Lucasfilm canon! Gillen’s Vader is more the mystical, unknowable nightmare version of Darth Vader and he does an excellent job of getting into that space with the character. Aaron also writes the original trio really well and it fills in a lot of the gabs just post-ANH so well, this is a great starting place for reading comics. You get to see Vader’s moment of realization of who Luke Skywalker is and it’s one of the best comic moments in all of the franchise. - Darth Vader: Dark Lord of the Sith (2017 - Charles Soule) - As tempting as it might be to read them in chronological order, I still think release order works better, and this one is set just after Revenge of the Sith and it’s all about digging into the psychology of Anakin Skywalker choosing to be Darth Vader. Choosing it over and over and over. This Vader is INCREDIBLY extra, but underneath the hilarious dramatic antics of this series (HE IS SUCH A DRAMATIC ASSHOLE IN THIS SERIES, IT’S SO FUNNY), there’s genuinely a story that looks at how afraid Anakin was to face his own choices, how Vader’s issues are Anakin Skywalker’s issues, how he goes from Anakin to the Vader we know in the OT. This is still my favorite piece of SW supplementary media, but I may be biased. - Shattered Empire (Greg Rucka) - This is a four-issue mini series that’s basically 100% pure connective tissue between the aftermath of Return of the Jedi and where things were headed to in the future. The entire point is to show a variety of characters and nothing but focusing on the aftermath, rather than too much of a plot-focus. Which makes it really satisfying, because it’s finally some breathing room for the characters--plus, it has stunning artwork to go with it. - Princess Leia (Mark Waid) - More aftermath, this time focused on Leia’s character in the days after A New Hope and the destruction of Alderaan. It includes her going to Naboo (though, she can’t figure out too much, of course, there’s some lovely nods to the Force whispering in her ear) and trying to figure out how to be a princess of a world that’s in ashes, and it’s a lovely look at her character. - Obi-Wan & Anakin (Charles Soule) - A five issue mini series set between The Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones and when I first inhaled it, it seemed like a bit of a filler adventure, until I went back to really pay attention the second time and suddenly all these connections and all this groundwork was being laid for understanding where each of these characters was coming from. It’s a fantastic look at Anakin’s doubts about being a Jedi, that he’s planning on leaving, Obi-Wan’s interactions with him over that, and why Anakin ultimately makes the choice to stay, along with so much of Palpatine laying down groundwork to undercut everything the Jedi are helping to teach Anakin. Add in the most gorgeous artwork you’ve seen, and it’s a hell of a read. - Poe Dameron (Charles Soule) - I really did not expect to love this comic as much as I did, but it’s incredibly good character work for him (the absolute best Poe-related material) and it does a ton to set up and flesh out the story of the sequels (in as much as anything can) and it’s just very, very easy to settle in with and read. It’s got great pacing and a great plot and was really, really addicting to read. - Age of Republic (Jody Houser) - There are eight issues in this maxi series (and you can go on to read the Age of Rebellion and Age of Resistance comics, they’re in the same format--four issues about heroes, four issues about villains) and they tell stories of various characters and they’re all really solidly good. My favorite is the Obi-Wan one, it’s another great look at his relationship with Anakin, though, the Anakin one had some great character stuff and the Maul one got me in the feelings place. - Jedi of the Republic: Mace Windu (Matt Owens) - Heads up about this one, the art style is wonky as hell, including some real nightmare fuel Yoda moments, so you gotta power through that aspect of this mini series. Once you do, though, it’s a stellar look at Mace Windu’s character! It’s not necessarily plot-heavy, but the chance to understand more of Mace’s mindset, the incredible Jedi he is, the good man he is, how hard he worked to become the person he is currently, all of that was excellent. - Star Wars Adventures - The series started in 2017 and then was rebooted in 2020, all of them are very worth reading! They’re aimed at a younger audience, so you’re not going to get too much darkness in any of the stories, but that doesn’t hold them back from being some of the best Star Wars comics. They’re all little stand-alone stories with characters from all across the three trilogies and you’ll get some wonderful stuff, like Luke and Leia on Naboo, Anakin and Padme going to see a play, baby Leia being told about Padme by Breha, Mace Windu rescuing a young Twi’lek child and giving her a pep talk, Rose Tico having adventures, Obi-Wan and Dex having an adventure, etc. They’re adorable and super fun! - Kanan (Greg Weisman) - While parts of this have been a bit overwritten by The Bad Batch (to the detriment of the story, this version is so much stronger), the Kanan mini series is absolutely stellar for understanding the character, getting to see the prequels Jedi from the perspective of the Padawans, instead of just the Knights, and getting some great worldbuliding and character work. It’s split between Kanan’s time in his present with the backstory of what happened to him after the Jedi genocide and it’s brutally heartbreaking in all the right places, hopeful in all the other right places, and the artwork is just stunning. - The Clone Wars - Battle Tales (Michael Moreci) - This is in the same vein as the Adventures comics (and may even be under that label?) so it’s pretty light-hearted but it has some absolutely baller comic moments for the clones and the Jedi. It’s a quick read, but you’ll have a scream of a time doing it! Books are a more complicated issue, because a lot of the Star Wars books have moments of great quotes, but overall aren’t great stories, in part because they can’t do character work in the same way comics can and all the really good stories are being saved for potential TV series, I suspect. But two books I always recommend starting with are Matthew Stover’s Revenge of the Sith novelization (nobody has ever come close to the heights that book has achieved) and Star Wars: Propaganda by Pablo Hidalgo, which is an in-universe look at the entire timeline (such as it was at the time) and how art and propaganda shaped things and, oh, it’s so good. Other than that, I like the Thrawn books, the Ahsoka book was solid, Bloodline did a lot of character work for Leia in the sequels, the Aftermath trilogy is one I really love but I personally think you almost have to listen to the audiobook versions because the text versions just bored me while the audio versions gripped me, Dark Lords of the Sith by Paul S. Kemple is more “Vader being Vader” goodness, Resistance Reborn was probably the best sequels book for me, I legitimately enjoyed Phasma a ton but given how her character just kind of fizzled out in the movies, I’m not sure how it would stand up without the excitement around her character, and I enjoyed Catalyst a lot, but I’m a sucker for a book that does connective tissue stuff between the prequels and the originals. I also highly recommend looking up “movie” versions of the Battlefront II storyline and the Jedi: Fallen Order storyline on YouTube, both are excellent stories if you’re not into playing the video games yourself. You won’t get the full experience (you get much more invested when you spend a bunch of hours running around as your character, after all XD) but they will tell you the stories and they’re both very good and you’ll see connections pop up fairly often. I also loved the Vader Immortal storyline, but because it’s a VR storyline, you’ll probably only find shaky footage of it and that may hit your motion sickness. Still totally worth it even though I almost (literally) threw up trying to watch Vader be an asshole. That’s a lot to dump on you all at once, but I promise the stuff goes quicker than you’ll realize and this will give you a very solid foundation of having read the good stuff in Star Wars franchise!

#comic recs #book recs #long post #novel recs

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liang-nova · 2 years

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Not to steal a post and go but this reminded me of stuff that I think is better not being in OP's reblogs so I gandered I should make a whole other post.

So! See you below!!

(NSFT WARNING AHOY!!!)

I'm not sure if these count as indie games but I spend a lot of my time perusing F95 and tfgames, and if you don't mind the content, you can find quite a few that has some degree of queer player customisation.

Fenoxo Games

Games by Fenoxo & Co. (Corruption of Champions*, Corruption of Champions II, and Trials in Tainted Space; all can be found here but you can get Patreon versions from F95) have the option to lock player pronouns to he or she regardless of other factors.

(screenshot from TiTS, and yes, the acronym is intentional)

As you can see here, even though this character's sex and appearance are feminine, the game will exclusively use he/him because I've set the gender preference to male. Cool, innit?

Lilith's Throne

The rating is another thing I like-- there's no one specific variable that determines what gender NPCs view the PC as. Even without the pronoun lock, if they're masculine enough the game will still use he/him for the PC even if they have visible boobs**. This means you're free to experiment! Mix and match! See what you like and what you don't!

UPD8 (5/11/22): The team behind TiTS is currently porting the game to JavaScript, and in that version the settings has a new category called language filter. I'm not entirely sure what it does, but from the looks of it, it should be something similar to LT's Global gender names setting.

LT lets you customize the player's pronouns. You can set it to anything, and I mean anything:

You can type it in! It's still dependant on a masc-femme scale but hey, sky's the limit now. Wanna use star/stars? Xe/xim? Go for it! No one's stopping you! The only problem is this seems to get overridden in sex scenes...... I've had NPCs comment stuff like "I've never seen a chest that flat on a girl!" even though you can see here that the game should be referring to the PC as a boy, even if he has a feminine appearance.

You can also customize the NPCs' genders to some extent (e.g. the androgynous body option apply to NPCs as well) but NPC customisation is really more of a "cater this to your tastes" deal. Of course special NPCs are exempt, but you can make it so the generic randomly-generated NPCs are all masculine, all furries, or all hyperfeminine futanari horsepeople. IMO it's an underrated feature, and I greatly appreciate it.

Another thing about LT that's cool is the fact that you can customise the body configuration-based descriptions!

Here you can see the game references both present (or, without the Observant trait, visible) body parts and femininity to determine how to describe an NPC. If you're uncomfortable with feminine people with penises and breasts being called shemales or masculine people with vaginas being called cuntboys you can easily change it to something else like transwoman and transman!

Degrees of Lewdity

DoL lets your PC crossdress, which allows you to present as the gender opposite your sex. This is less a queer thing, and more a queer thing-- it wasn't made with gender nonconformity in mind, and once NPCs realise what they're packing, they'll revert to identifying your PC based on their sex.

Of course, someone saw potential in this and created a transgender mod! You can play it, and other mods, on this site or download it from here. Everybody say "thank you, Gay Raccoon"! Transmod does exactly what it says on the tin: it modifies the game's code to make the mechanics work with a trans PC, and changes the text to reflect that.

If you're interested in looking into the game and/or the mod, I do have to warn you: DoL was made with a dark, unforgiving atmosphere in mind. I think the developer added an option for it to be toned down, but the base experience is harsh: the PC can (and more often than not, will) get molested, raped, kidnapped, forced into prostitution, and abused. Transmod stays true to this-- if outed, NPCs won't necessarily respect the PC's pronouns, and might be inclined to show them exactly how they feel about dirty trannies tricking them.

Proceed with caution.

Honourable Mentions

IIRC Path to Ascension, The Company, Flexible Survival, Cloud Meadow, Fleshcult, The Repurposing Centre, My Very Own Lith* (you can get the plus version, which has cheats, on F95), Lust Doll***, and Paraphore* all have varying degrees of PC gender customisation separate from sex. I'd go in depth on all of them if I wasn't already so goddamn tired of typing.

However, just like DoL, I have to warn you that while the atmosphere is very jolly, Paraphore's content is extreme. I'm not joking. It has everything, from relatively mild kinks like scat and watersports, all the way to the really "out there" ones like snuff. There are in-game indicators to let you know what's coming up when, but please, please, please proceed with caution.

End Notes

There are a bunch of other smaller, lesser known, and/or very-early-in-development games that include queer character customisation. I remember one where you run as a political candidate, but I can't for the life of me remember the name, and it was like v0.1 alpha or some shit last I checked it so..... yeah.

UPD8 (5/11/22): I found the game, it's Golden Leaf on F95. It's listed as "abandoned", though, which is unfortunately an extremely common problem with these games: more niche projects like these end up getting left to rot, because the developer lost interest in it/the developer no longer has time for it/it doesn't generate enough attention for the developer to consider it worth working on/etc. Hell, even big games can get abandoned for no reason sometimes; just look at Free Cities. It was a highly praised game with many fans, but FC_Author, the (sole, if memory serves me well) developer stopped releasing updates all of a sudden. There are speculations, but there's no official explanation, and they kept to themselves so well there was no way to contact them for one either, so they just vanished into thin air. The community is still going strong thanks to Pregmod, but the original game is basically dead.

Uh, I went on a tangent there, but I guess what I'm trying to say is these games can (and do) get abandoned a lot, so don't be surprised if any of the games I've listed suddenly no longer get updates.

[On a side note, I don't know if this is a feature or a bug that I've been exploiting but in Free Cities Pregmod, you can have a masculine PC with a vagina or vice versa. However, choosing to play with a feminine appearance and/or a vagina/hermaphroditic genitals leads to faster reputation decay because the Free Cities are patriarchal. I'm not sure if this can be done in the original game; I haven't played that in years. I do remember there being a problem wherein the game forces the player into a masculine or feminine pronoun based on appearance and vice versa. Again, I don't know if the queer customisation is a feature, or if it's just a bug I've been exploiting, so take this with a grain of salt.]

UPD8 (5/13/22): I was mistaken; Golden Leaf isn't the correct game. It's The Greater Good, and it seems to still be receiving updates, so yay!

It goes without saying NSFT games aren't the only ones with non-cisgender character options. I'm just an unforgivingly horny bastard, so all I look at and play are NSFT games, LOL. Many a Twine VN has crossed paths with me on itch, and those typically allow you to customize the PC's presentation to your heart's content. Some also let you customize the love interests' genders, so you can have an all-male cast, an all-female cast, an all-nonbinary cast, or anything in-between. Best way to get started is to surf the LGBTQIA tag. At least one game I can remember off the top of my head (Heart of the House, I think?) from Choice of Games let you have non-cisgender PCs too.

You might notice that most of the games I listed here are text games. This is because I have a shit laptop that kills itself if I try to load One (1) Fancy Graphic, so this niche has become my specialty. This means I've probably missed a lot of non-text games.

You might also notice that most games I've presented only have binary pronoun options. It's kind of a side effect of me being a binary pronoun user, whoops. Sorry y'all.

To close this off, I can't agree more with OP and the tags. Queer media is already here; they're just waiting for you to come find them and pick them up.

*These games require a Flash projector to work. Unfortunately Adobe has apparently pulled the download links off their site, but this seems to be the one I use? You can try this one, but IDK how well it works.

**I've only tested this out on TiTS. The statement should hold up with CoC II, but IDK abt CoC

***There's two variants of LD: the original game, and LD+.

#nsft #creator chose not to use archive warnings #XD #but really theres so many tws attached to this #and frankly most of them are only mentioned once #so read at your own risk #staff please dont nuke this #it took ~4 hours to make this X{#wolf child speaks #updated 5/11/2022 #formalised spag for shits and giggles #and brought some info up to date #new wc is now 1552 #yikes #updated 5/13/2022 #corrected a (not so) minor mistake

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hongism · 3 years

Text

touch of the devil - k.hongjoong 18+

↣ pairing: hongjoong x fem!reader | ao3 version (mxm seongjoong) ↣ genre: angst, fluff if you SQUINT, nsfw, fantasy, supernatural, demon!hongjoong, emo rocker!hongjoong, there do be plot tho. ↣ wc: 9.0k ↣ summary: you came to make a deal with a devil sure, but this is the last thing you were expecting out of a night in a dingy bar. ↣ warnings: explicit smut, mention of death, demons, it’s actually really heavy on plot and angst and less focused on the smut ↣ a/n: again i know it’s my birthday but this is my present to you guys, i am a person who prefers to give rather than receive on my birthday and this was the first thing i wanted to work on during my hiatus!! i’ve got so much inspo and motivation rn that it’s crazy and i can’t wait to have everything all set out for you guys when im back :3

﹊﹊﹊

Everything about the air around you is heady and thick in a way that chokes you as you step through the fogged bar. This isn’t your sort of scene – not one you would typically find yourself frequenting on a Friday evening without even so much as the company of a friend – and yet here you stand with hands pressed into the pockets of your black leather jacket. There remains a dull thrum in the atmosphere of the club, a steady rhythm of bass and vibrations that makes your ears ring but you do your best to ignore it in favor of reaching the bartender.

“Just a rum and coke please,” you murmur, hand sneaking out of your pocket to lay a few bills flat against the wood counter. You tug your ID card out as well and flash it in the man’s direction when he raises an eyebrow at you, but upon seeing it, he relents and steps away from you to get the drink.

The question remains of why exactly you are in such a dismal and hopeless scene full of people too drunk off their rockers to even fumble around the bar with some sense of dignity. You, who is neither dismal or hopeless yourself nor are you drunk in the slightest (at least not yet).

The answer is simple. This is a breeding ground, a festering cesspool of desires and greed, and it is the prime place to find what you are looking for in terms of deals with the devil. Maybe not one specific devil, but certainly whatever demon you can get your hands on tonight. And you have quite the lot to choose from it seems, because as you glance around the neon-lit building, you can spot many pairs of red eyes glinting under the lights. You know you have no right to be picky — any and all of them will get the job done — but you can’t help but to note that none of them are as appealing as you imagined they would be. When your friend said that these demons thrived off of lust and appeal, you figured that meant they would purposefully up the ante in terms of physical appearances.

The disdain must show on your features as the bartender begins to speak again as he sets your drink down before you on the counter.

“None of them are for you,” he utters, and you twist back to look him in the eye.

“What do you mean?” You inquire, chin tilting to the side in question, and the man huffs out a small laugh.

“They have their prey already. Picked ‘em the second they walked through the door. All it takes is one look to figure out what these needy people crave from them, what appearances they need to take, what voices to use, what outfits to wear. For people like you, though, something more is required before the real games begin.” He points a single bony finger at your face, staring you down over the length of his digit like it’s the barrel of a gun, and that has you shifting in your seat a bit.

“Something… more?”

“One must have a particular level of certainty before coming to make a deal with a demon, ma’am. But you — you don’t seem to truly know what it is you want. And for that reason, the King will see you with no ruses or deception.”

On the contrary, I wouldn’t have dared set foot in here if I didn’t know what it is I wanted, you want to say. However, your attention is held rapt by his final sentence, the one that held unspoken promise to it.

“And by that you mean physical alterations?”

“You catch on quickly, Miss.” The man leans forward, tongue darting out to swipe over his lower lip, and you glance over the motion only once before pushing away from the counter. He notes the slight annoyance in your features a moment later. “The King will like you quite a bit.”

“When can I expect for this ‘King’ to present himself?” You prop an elbow up on the counter and give one last forlorn glance around the bar in the hopes that someone will come over your way, but it’s to no avail.

“Patience, human. The show hasn’t even begun yet.” He motions towards the middle of the bar, the starkly empty space with a glossy stage set in the center with only a microphone held delicately in its stand and nothing else. You had been hoping to make this a speedy trip — a quick in and out with your deal made and nothing else — but it seems you won’t be having that luxury. And it is a bit frustrating, honestly, to come to this place with the expectation of having a demon cater to you and your wants only to be told that you aren’t certain enough for these supernatural beings, so you’ll have to wait on a demon who won’t cater to you or come to you immediately.

You take a quick swig of your alcohol with the desperate hope that perhaps drinking will make you more certain of what you want, although you already know it won’t. The bartender offers a shrug in response to your annoyance then pulls away to tend to other customers, and you take it as an invitation to swivel in your stool and face the stage. It’s still fucking empty, but at least it gives you a better view than the old wood of the counter that now sits under your elbows.

“Leave it to men to make me wait on them, demon or not,” you mutter under your breath, breath fogging the side of your glass a bit.

You nearly choke on the liquid inside in your next breath because the swirling red neon lights come to a halt on the center of the stage, and the suddenness of the shifting lights startles you so much that you have to sit up straight and inhale deeply to keep from coughing on the alcohol in your mouth. The hazed mist hovering above the floor of the bar seems to swirl towards the stage under the beams of light. You watch the movements as though in a trance, slowly leaning forward until your elbows come to rest on your knees. Out of everyone in the bar, you seem to be the only one interested in what’s going on at the center of the room. Mind you, everyone else is preoccupied: demons with their humans, and humans with the mask-wearing demons who cater to their desires. And while you have no reason to be so intrigued by the scene before you, you truly cannot bring yourself to look away, especially as the dull thrum of music in the bar heightens and gains momentum.

There is no way of describing the sounds rumbling around you. Perhaps if you were fully in your senses, you would be able to distinguish the instruments and beats of the song, but the bass clogs your mind and leaves you squinting at the hazy stage. It could be poetic, the way a lone figure pushes his way through the crowds of the bar like he holds all the power in the universe, studded black leather jacket slung around his shoulders. And as the red lights come over him, you can see his features better. Dusty brown hair that shines a bit, one side exposed and cut shorter than the other, which has bangs that hang loose over the side of his face. Metal bars line both ears, another near the end of his left brow, and a final more intricate one that loops around the middle of his lip and connects to two long metal chains. You follow the path of those chains with your eyes, watching them trail downwards until they loop around his chest and disappear behind his jacket. It’s just a black turtleneck that he wears underneath the dramatic leather regalia and chains but somehow he makes the garment look expensive. You dare glance a bit lower, just enough to make out the frayed and distressed jeans that cling to his skin like a vice, leaving hints of enticing skin underneath to peek through. You can’t see his feet thanks to the fog, but you can practically hear his footsteps drumming in your ears with the rise and fall of his shoes.

Simply put, you are entranced by the sight of this man — if he can even be called that, because you wouldn’t find yourself at all surprised should he reveal himself to be a demon on the tail end of this encounter. He barely looks up from the floor on his trek to the stage, only stopping when he comes before the mic stand and exhales against it in a way that sends shivers down your spine. It’s hardly reasonable for any creature to hold your attention in the palm of his hand the way this one does, but there is no chance of you looking away now, especially as his voice begins to drawl through the microphone and coat your ears like honey. There are words, you recognize enough in the music to know that it should be a song you’re familiar with, but none of them truly process in your daze.

It’s all you can do to just sit there and watch his performance. Between the gentle sways of his shoulders and hips, the teasing drag of his tongue over his lower lip whenever there is a break in his lyrics, and the overall intoxicating nature his aura exudes, you are hooked on every breath he takes. You don’t realize how relaxed your body has become under his spell until it’s too late, and that happens to be the last note of the song as well. It is accentuated with the drop of the glass in your hand and a sharp shatter of the cup against the floor. And just as you inhale a startled gasp and break out of your reverie, his deep crimson eyes flicker over to find yours across the bar. Those twisting lips churn something ugly in your gut. You can’t find the strength in your body to move.

“Mine.”

Your heart leaps in your chest as the word leaves his lips, and while you can’t hear it grate against your ears, you can clearly read his lips enough to know what he’s saying.

His eyes glint a bit in the darkness. It shouldn’t leave you wanting more, but that bitter taste of curiosity is nipping at the back of your throat, and you are far too intrigued to turn back now. You just want more. If he seems to understand that at all from the gleam in your eyes, he makes good on it, stepping off the stage and letting his hand drag over the mic in a way that is almost tantalizing. Step after step, he comes closer to you with his lips still curled into a smirk, and the way the lights hit him makes him seem to glisten and glow in the darkness. You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until he breaches your personal space and you release a shaky exhale that seems to fog in the air between you. He stretches a hand out to close the space between your bodies and curls his index finger under your chin. The touch is simultaneously hot and cold — your whole body seems to light on fire under it, yet at the same time, the chill in your bones deepens to an alarming degree.

“What is it you desire above all other things?” You can hear him now, loud and clear, and whilst you heard his singing beforehand, the simple rasp and lilt to his regular tone is something that has you unashamedly weak in the knees. “I can give you everything,” he whispers as he presses closer to you. Your knees brush against his form but he keeps on pushing forward until he’s slotted himself between them. The chain hanging from his lips rattles like a chime, singing its unknown song like church bells in the night, although you are far from God and heaven now. “All you need to do is ask.”

You cling to some semblance of reason while you can, knowing full well that it will all leave you soon enough, but for now, it lets you choke out a single statement that has the demon before you laughing under his breath.

“That’s not how it works.”

“And who are you to tell me how it works?” His finger curls a bit harder at your chin, and you can feel the blunt of his nail scraping over your skin. Your eyes are glued to his, so enamored and consumed that you can’t even think to look anywhere else.

In that moment, it is as though the universe is nothing but a speck of dust in the corner of your vision. Something so raw and whole like the man standing before you is all-powerful and vigilant in a way that has every nerve in your body at full attention, ready for whatever his next step might be. And that turns out to be quite the curveball as it seems because he leans closer to you, breath intermingling with yours, and you subconsciously curve your back into his touch to reach him closer. Still, even though you physically show how ready and desperate for the touch you are, he waits and glances over your features.

“What is it you desire from me, human?”

You have to vehemently restrain yourself from simply saying ‘you’ and getting on with it.

“Your name.”

“Is that all you would have from me?” As a demon, it is his life’s work to know the inner-workings of the festering desires of humans. You have no doubt in your mind that he knows exactly what is it you want, even if you are not sure of it yourself, and you do not doubt that he won’t use that to his advantage either. But that’s what you asked for in coming here, and that is exactly what you both expected and wanted out of this.

Perhaps it is shameful, but just for once, you wanted to surrender control. Too often are you asked to have everything set out and planned and under control, and too often do you find yourself wanting someone to just tell you what it is you should do. That could be why the bartender labeled you as ‘uncertain’ because even in this moment of vulnerability, there is still the thinnest thread of thought tethering you to that control. And as of now, you want nothing more than for this demon before you to break that thread.

“I would have your name before I asked for anything else from you. Calling you demon over and over would certainly wear out its welcome, no?”

“That all depends on the context, my dear. But… you can call me Hongjoong, if that’s suitable to your tongue.”

“Hongjoong,” you try, testing the way the name rolls off your tongue in such a delicate manner that the demon before you flutters his lashes a bit.

“Sounds so pretty coming from lips so innocent.” He tilts his head to the side, and the movement flashes the pretty expanse of skin below his jaw. You aren’t shy in the way you let your gaze slip over it before trailing back up to meet his eyes again. “Would you close your eyes for me, doll?” He doesn’t have to ask. He could just make you do so with no resistance but still, he asks as though you could say no if you wanted to. You don’t though, and as such, your eyelids fall shut and your vision turns to black for the time being. “Do you know who I am?”

“Th-The bartender called you the King.”

“And do you understand what that means? Truly understand with every fiber of your being?” The question is heavy on your bones, and it is one that you feel like you should know the answer to yet you can’t find any response to his inquiry. Perhaps he means to confuse you because you hear the soft huff of a laugh fall from his lips. “King of the Underworld, Lord of the Dead. Some would call me Pluto, others Hades, it varies from religion to religion and in every culture. Sometimes I pick up rather banal and common names, other times I find myself seeking something extravagant and luxurious. Now… Hongjoong will be a good middle-ground for us.”

You should be falling to the floor in absolute shock due to his words, but the steady finger under your chin keeps you steady. That and the growing fear in your gut as you come to realize that this man holds so much power in just his pinky finger and could absolutely crush you under his heel whenever he wishes. What are you to a god besides an insignificant fleck of dust on the pavement?

“And what of your appearance? Is that… manifested as well?” You dare to ask.

“I have many faces, yes, but this one is one I wear boldly and frequently. You could say it is my natural form. After so many millennia of fantastical myths and legends, however, I’m sure that would seem odd to you.”

“Are you truly a demon then?”

“King of demons, yes. Whether I am truly a demon myself is something that could be ambiguous, I suppose, but if they are all part of my creations, then would that not make me one myself? Though you could say they are all fragments of my own being, making them all mythical gods. It’s all a matter of perspective; however, I doubt that you came searching this place for a lesson on perspectives.”

“No, I came for…” You trail off, and that blossoming uncertainty from before presents itself again.

“There are two things your heart wants right now. One, I can give you with ease and grace, only if you would allow it. That desire is a fleeting one, however, and I do not think it is what you are truly after in being here. The second… that is a wish I cannot deliver, and I think you are more than aware of that. The reason everyone left you to me is because of what you want. It is a domain only I could ever touch.”

You blink your eyes open in haste, searching his deep crimson gaze for some sort of confirmation of the words. The demon dares to look forlorn and lets his stare drop to the floor rather than looking you directly in the eye. Confusion blossoms in your gut. Yes, you figured there was a slim chance that your wish could not be granted, but still you clung to the desperate hope that maybe there was just a small window of opportunity for such a wish to be granted.

“Death is irreversible,” the demon, Hongjoong as he wishes to be called, says in a quiet tone. “I cannot give that which you want more than anything else.”

“Then what can you give?” You ask, squeezing your eyes shut as tight as possible to keep your emotions from slipping out the corners.

“One of two things: I can give you time to speak with him once more or I can make you forget the pain.”

“And if I choose the latter?”

“It would make you forget everything about him and leave you with no memory of him at all.” Hongjoong exhales a small sigh, the bouncing rhythms of the bass rumbling against your ears along with the sounds of his breaths. “You need not decide right this instant. The payment will be the same either way, so we can settle that first if you’d like.”

“W-Wait,” you stammer. You dare to open your eyes once more. “How would I be able to speak to him if you can’t bring him back?”

“I cannot bring him back the way you want. He… he is gone, and though I am the King of the Dead, there are powers even I do not have. Bringing him back to life is impossible, but I can create a doorway for the two of you to speak through for a short period of time. I have no control over how long it would be, just a forewarning. That is all up to him and his willingness to see you.”

“I can’t imagine he wouldn’t want to see me,” you murmur, but the pang in your chest tells you otherwise.

“Sometimes, death and the underworld change fundamental parts of people. They are no longer alive, after all, and as such, those human vices and personality traits dissipate. How you knew him in life could be vastly different than the spirit who now resides in my domain. It is all a matter of weighing risks, my dear. What matters most to you? Remembering him or him remembering you?”

“So if I ask to see him, I would remember him but there’s a chance that he would have no recollection of me? And should I ask to forget, there will be no way of knowing whether he remembers me in the afterlife or not?”

“Precisely.”

That is a hefty bargain to weigh. It is almost too much for your shoulders just to think about it. One is starkly more selfish than the other, but if he’s dead, what good will selflessness do you? It won’t bring him back, that’s for sure. Either you are left with the painful realization that he does not have any memory of you in the afterlife, or you forget it all to avoid that pain. Maybe thinking about the payment before deciding would be a good idea after all.

“As for the payment? How many years do I owe you?” Demons have no use for human currency or trinkets that could be traded for favors. You can barter the only thing you have — years of life. Whether it shortens your lifespan or turns you into a personal slave for a certain amount of time, that is a price you must be willing to pay for such services. You are more than prepared to barter it all off right now if need be.

“None,” Hongjoong answers coolly, and you quirk a brow upwards at the nonchalance in his tone. “I do not deal in years of life. Not often, at least. My abilities are bound in… passion. Lovemaking, fornication, sex, fucking – whatever you wish to call it. Of course, it wouldn’t have to be that exactly, should you not desire that. The other option is a blood pact, a ritual that would take hours to complete, although both could take quite some time depending on your stamina.” There’s a breath of silence that allows Hongjoong’s lips to twist into a suggestive grin, and heat brushes the base of your neck as you fight off waves of embarrassment. “I cannot guarantee that the blood pact would be painless. With sex, I could at least provide some comfort that the pain would only be temporary; however, the choice is yours. Both are binding and would mean that you could never make a deal with another demon again, and you would be marked as mine for eternity.”

“What does being yours entail?”

“Nothing diabolical or unsavory, I promise. Just… when the time comes for you to pass on and join the Underworld, you would take a place at my side.”

“How many people have you laid claim to? Did they all agree to the same terms? How can I trust your word?” The questions tumble from your lips without relent.

“For what you desire, the cost is far less than what I would usually ask for. Those lucky enough to deal with me in the past paid less for their debts. The blood pact… the fornication… both are binding elements. The real cost is your service. Most have agreed to give me their servitude in the afterlife, all with their own places in my domain. That is what you would be offering as well. You will live just as long as you would without making this deal but make up for it after your death.”

“And that’s it?”

Hongjoong’s eyes twinkle a bit under the lights above your heads.

“What did you expect from me, doll? Savagery? Unfairness? Everyone deserves a fair price for what they want, regardless of station in life or status in society.”

“Deal,” you utter without any more hesitation, blinking up into Hongjoong’s dark orbs. There lies a lingering sense of regret in your gut, one that you cannot chase away no matter how hard you try, but you do not need to dwell on it any longer.

“And how would you like to bind our deal, my dear? Neither can be handled immediately. The blood pact requires special preparations for the ritual, but the other — I would not have you in such a place as dirty as this.”

“I-I, um, sex will work just fine,” you bite out, the skin of your cheek caught between your teeth.

“Then when the time comes that you are ready with your decision on what it is you truly want, all you need to do is take this—” Hongjoong retracts his hand from where it rests gently against the column of your throat and digs into one of his pockets. He pulls out a gilded card, one that is black and gold with flecks of red across the surface, but there are no other adornments to the material. “Tear it in half and it will bring you to our meeting place, and I will join you there to seal the deal. Should you decide that you do not want this after all, then all you need to do is burn the card. The decision lies in your hands, and yours alone.” He has to lift one of your limp hands and forcefully place the card into your waiting palm, closing his fingers around yours to make you cling to the item.

“I – th-thank you,” you stammer as you blink from your closed hand to Hongjoong’s features.

“The pleasure is all mine, doll.”

Those are the last words you hear from the demon before he slips away from you, the dense fog lingering in the air swirling up around his body, and within moments, his shadowy form disappears entirely from sight. The air grows cold around you once more. You are left with only the fleeting desire for that warmth to return, for you to feel less alone than you are in that moment, and even if it’s the briefest visit ever you just want one last chance to tell your lost lover how you feel without mistakes this time.

///

The night, as per usual, is cold and unforgiving. It allows for too many opportunities to be alone with lost feelings and thoughts. It has been weeks (if not months) since you visited that dingy club and your fateful meeting with none other than the King of the Dead. Yet you are still here, wallowing in the memories that you’ve been left to suffer with alone, and the gilded black card sits in your nightstand untouched. You open the drawer just to stare at it from time to time, when the nights are particularly rough, and it already had begun collecting a thin layer of dust the last few times you looked at it.

It isn’t that you haven’t made your decision about what you want from your deal with Hongjoong. The more terrifying fact is that you are fully aware of what it is you want, and you simply cannot rectify the guilt that comes along with the pure selfishness of your decision. The feeling is so potent that it swarms your every thought. You know it wouldn’t be an issue once you meet with Hongjoong; the demon will take it all away and leave you with nothing. You won’t even know enough to be guilty any longer, but the pain of committing to the decision is strong enough to make you sick to your stomach.

Wooyoung — the one who suggested you go to the club and make the deal in the first place — will not shut up about how worried he is about you. You won’t recall the deal or why you made it, so what’s holding you back? A temporary guilt that won’t exist longer than a few seconds once you’re actually in Hongjoong’s presence? As he said, you just need to swallow the feeling and get on with it. Prolonging the regrets any longer won’t do you any good.

You huff out a quiet laugh in the silence of your darkened room. The black gilded card taunts you again now, gleaming up at you through the shadows with its faint hints of gold and red. Maybe Wooyoung is right and the only way to get rid of missed opportunities is to forget about them entirely. Yeosang was but a chapter in your life, one that is past and gone now, and as Hongjoong said, there is no reversing death. Seeing him one last time won’t give you anything but pain.

You stretch a shaky hand towards the card in the drawer. It’s cold to the touch, dust billowing up with even the slightest touch of your fingers. You have to dig your nail under the material to pull it up, and once it’s safely set in your palm, you drag your thumb over the surface to brush the dirt away. No words on the surface, no sign that it has been touched by a demon, and not even a hint as to what it could possibly be for.

It is surprisingly flexible, at least moreso than you would have imagined, and you give it a few testing bends to see how easy it would be to break. Hongjoong simply gave you the instruction to tear it in half and that was all. You don’t expect him to suddenly materialize before you on a whim, but surely such a creation is bound by some sort of magic on his part. It is hard enough to believe that demons are real living creatures, but magic as well? Maybe you’ve passed on and just don’t realize it yet. Still, you exhale one last huff of air into the darkness before letting your eyes flutter shut. Taking the card between your hands, you begin to slowly rip the material until it separates with the force, torn in two mismatched pieces.

Nothing fantastical happens.

That fact alone is so overwhelmingly disappointing that you really think for a moment that Hongjoong was just some goth rocker in a stoner bar who pulled an elaborate trick on you. It can’t be too difficult to get your hands on some weird red-toned contacts and weave some elaborate story about being the King of Hell. You could do that yourself. Why did you think he was incapable of such a charade?

Because he knew what you wanted without you having to say it.

Yes, well, Wooyoung claimed that your regrets and grief were evident in your features every time he looked at you. Maybe Hongjoong could see it as well.

You fall back onto your bed, flattening your back against the mattress with a small shout of frustration. The urge to cry is strong; if you’ve spent all these weeks uselessly worrying over something that could all be a farce, you don’t even know how you would react. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, blinking away the tears that blossom in the corners there as best you can. The rolling emotions in your system distract you from the sudden shift in temperature, and before you know it heat washes over you and fills the void of cold in your body. You jerk but refuse to sit up quite yet, eyes flying open in your shock only to choke on air as a bright golden light fills your vision and swarms you with warmth. The cushion under your body doesn’t feel the same either; it is not your bed, it’s too plush and soft, too warm under you, and you feel like you are absolutely drowning in the sensation.

Gold flickers above you, twinkling lights that glisten like small stars above you, and the ceiling is so dark that you nearly think it’s just an opening to the night sky. You sit up in a mad panic. The gold and red decorations littering the far too lavish room barely process in your vision as you look for a way out, and you don’t even see the figure coming up along your side until he’s upon you. A hand stretches out to brush over your forehead. You nearly shriek in your state of terror, but the sound is all but stolen from your lungs instead.

“It’s only me, doll. You’re safe.”

Hongjoong. Ah, Hongjoong. Then… he was telling the truth. It wasn’t a farce or a deception meant to be a game. He claimed to be the Devil Incarnate, and here he stands before you in a room too rich and exquisite for words. You can’t find it in you to think he’s lying now.

You dare to glance up and meet his gaze, finding it so soft on your face that you have the audacity to blush under his stare despite the things you’ll be doing with him soon enough.

“Have you made your decision then?” He asks, tone soft and light. It isn’t one that demands an immediate answer. You know he could ask what took you so long to decide, complain about your hesitance, say that you kept him waiting for far too long — instead, he exudes patience with you, hand slowly combing over your forehead down to your cheek and brushing over the skin there with a touch so featherlight that you almost don’t realize it’s there at all.

“I-I have,” you whisper like the two of you aren’t the only ones in the room and it’s a secret meant only for your ears.

“What would you have from me first then? As I told you before, the payment is the same regardless of your decision, and as such, we can bind the deal first if you’d rather.”

You swallow around nothing. There is no harm in going through with the decision now, but your nerves are so frazzled and out of sorts that you almost desire the sex simply as a means of stress relief. Hongjoong steps in front of you, fully coming into view, and you are shocked at how… mundane he looks. You blink fervently at the man — demon, rather — and take in the gentle part of his hair, the soft glow of his skin that makes him look simply ethereal under this light. He hardly looks like a demon to you; his features are too smooth and perfect for that, from the curves of his lips to the even line of his nose. Although you suppose that’s all he wants you to see, yet it still seems oddly intimate to a certain degree.

“You aren’t worried that I’ll try to run away after my wish is fulfilled?” You ask. Hongjoong arches his brows at you, and his neutral expression slips into one of momentary shock.

“Where are you going to go, my dear? I brought you to this place, and you will need me to send you back once we’re done here.”

It sinks in at that moment how you are completely at his mercy right now. Not that you had any plans of running away, but the question was moreso just to test the waters, see if he is truly as merciful as his features make him out to be. The underlying danger in his tone proves your point and sends a chill down your spine.

“Is that something I ought to be worried about, doll? Should I claim you now to make sure you keep your end of the bargain?” The question sits on your ear like warm honey. It chokes you, fills your senses with Hongjoong’s scent, and you almost find yourself leaning into his curling lips before catching yourself. That seems to pique his interest in the very least, and his smile twists a bit more. “The decision is in your hands as always. I won’t do anything you don’t give me explicit permission to do.”

“Permission granted,” you mutter before catching a hand on Hongjoong’s collar. “Do it all.” You aren’t too worried about damaging his clothes as he’s not wearing anything drastically fancy or expensive-looking, and thus you twist your fist into a ball around the fabric of his black tee and yank him down to your height. He bends at the waist, hands catching on the mattress before his forehead can smack hard against yours. There’s a bit of tension in his neck, and that keeps him far enough back so that he doesn’t kiss you quite yet. It’s almost as though he is waiting for something else, eyes carefully tracing your features with great care before he settles on your lips, and a sharp inhale of breath follows before that thin line in his composure snaps.

His lips hit yours with a surprising amount of force, and the kiss isn’t at all what you were expecting — well, to be more accurate, you aren’t quite sure what you were expecting in the first place. It’s much more pleasant than you could have imagined though, and Hongjoong isn’t shy with the touch at all. His tongue is quick to swipe over your lower lip, hands darting upwards to brush over your sides before reaching your face, and he brings a knee down on the mattress to support his weight as he leans over you. You follow the motion when he pushes forward and lean back until you have no choice but to scoot back on the bed. Hongjoong moves with you with the same amount of fervor, still pressed to your lips without relent, and you don’t even think to stop as he completely drapes himself over your body, knees still up and supporting his weight. The cushion of the mattress dips by your head, a telltale sign that he’s placed his hands there, and you use that as your opportunity to stop for air. Hongjoong surely has no need to breathe like you do since he is undead, but he still pants above you, chest heaving as a pretty flush rises to his cheeks.

“Putting that much power in a demon’s hands is dangerous, is it not?” He mutters. You let your lashes flutter shut as he moves back to your lips, hot breath ghosting over your skin. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

“I’ll tell you if it’s something I don’t like,” you murmur, opening an eye to peek at him. He meets your gaze with a soft laugh, but your answer seems to please him enough to bring his attention back to your lips. You inhale as his tongue breaches your mouth and pushes into the wet cavern inside. There’s no chance for you to fight back for any sort of dominance because he only thrusts deeper and coats the inside of your mouth with his taste until you can feel his tongue brushing over your palate. A quiet moan reverberates through your throat and against his lips. You feel the barest hint of a smile in the kiss, then his lips are suddenly gone from yours. You gasp for air with the freedom. Heat pools in the depths of your gut, a pleasant one that leaves you wanting more, and you aren’t sure if it’s simply been so long since you last had sex or if Hongjoong truly has that effect on you.

He returns to touching your body a moment later, hands trailing to the row of buttons on your nightshirt, and one by one, he pulls them apart until the material is barely clinging to your skin. His lips replace his fingers then. First at your jaw placing a wet trail of kisses and soft nips that leave you with goosebumps. Then he reaches the midpoint of your sternum and rests the flat of his tongue there, tasting and teasing your skin until you can do nothing but writhe under him because he is taking so damn long. Your impatience is laughable to him, as evidenced by the quiet huff of air that leaves him next.

“I want to taste every inch of you,” he mumbles against the skin of your stomach, hands pulling your nightshirt away to expose more of the skin underneath. He makes good on his words, and that damn tongue traces lower and lower until he reaches the band of your pants and underwear. You instinctively dart a hand down to tangle in his hair. “F-Fuck.” The curse slips out when you give an accidental tug to the hair close to his nape, and you nearly think that you’ve hurt him in some manner until you catch sight of the blissed-out expression on his features.

“D-Do you — can I…?”

“Do it harder while I eat you out,” he growls. His fingers close hard around the remainders of your close, and you don’t even have time to nod before he’s yanking both your pants and underwear down in one fell swoop. It leaves you more than a little exposed — you’re suddenly nearly nude before the demon who is still fully clothed, and that realization draws your thighs tight together in a sudden rush of embarrassment. You swallow hard around nothing, eyes darting away from Hongjoong’s prying gaze.

All of a sudden, he shrugs your hand off his hair and sits back on his heels. You don’t understand what his reasoning is until you settle your eyes back on his body. He’s leaned back to start stripping layers of clothes off in a rush, hands fumbling and struggling to pull them away in an orderly manner. There is no composure to his actions, only a hastened fervor that has him tossing his shoes far from the bed along with random articles of clothes until he’s laid fully bare before you. You really try your hardest not to glance down at his… you know, but the urge is overwhelming. Before you can even catch a glimpse, however, Hongjoong is on you again, hands latched around your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed as he kneels before you on the floor. The sudden movement has you squealing in surprise, and that noise is broken off into a startled moan when Hongjoong’s lips brush through your folds without warning.

“O-Oh god,” you gasp out. Hongjoong’s tongue gives a long and dragging pull through your heat, teasing some of the juices out of you with little restraint.

“Far from it actually,” he replies against your clit. A cheeky grin eats away at his features, but it quickly disappears as he returns his focus to your cunt. Your hand finds its way back down to his hair once more and tugs hard at the strands. Each tweak of his tongue through your folds has your legs jerking a bit, and he has to tighten his grip on your thighs to keep you from moving so much under his touch.

“I’m not — I w-won’t last, pl-please, I–” You can’t even finish the sentence as Hongjoong flicks the tip of his tongue right over your clit and cuts you off. He repeats that same motion, again and again, brings you right to the precipice of an orgasm only to tear you back down from it with soft kisses pressed to the outside of your folds. You can’t keep track of how many times he repeats that process, but it is more than enough to have you shaking from exhaustion and desperation even though you haven’t even been able to come yet.

“Are you going to beg for it, doll?” Hongjoong hums after what feels like hours of pleasurable torture. “I promised to make you feel good, did I not? You just have to tell me what you want.” His words are so taunting that it burns you with embarrassment. The need for that orgasm hangs on every nerve ending of your body, and you could cry just out of the need to come.

“Please,” you whisper in a tone broken from constant moans and cries.

“Be more specific.” It’s so cruel. He dangles the promise of pleasure before your eyes again, this time nipping ever so gently at your bud, and you really do cry this time, fingers digging harshly on his scalp. That draws a prolonged growl from his lips, and it reverberates against you so nicely that you could come from that. Hongjoong pulls his head back too soon though and the sensation is dashed away.

“N-No, no, please. P-Please, Hongjoong, I — please let me come. I need it, I need it so badly. Shit, just – just please let me come,” you wail as tears slip out the corners of your eyes and spill onto the sheets under you. That’s the breaking point for him as well, or so it would seem, because the next time his mouth brushes through your cunt, he doesn’t relent. You come undone on his tongue, riding out the waves of your intense orgasm as he fucks his wet muscle into your heat. He won’t stop chuckling either — a low noise that just prolongs the pleasure and makes you quiver from overstimulation. He doesn’t let up until a dry and choked sob pushes past your lips.

Suddenly he is back up on the bed, bent over your body to be eye to eye with you. His fingers trace over your wet cheeks then clasp hard around your jaw.

“Too much?”

“N-No,” you stammer through the wet cries. “So good. So so good.”

“Mm, can you take my cock too, doll?” He all but purrs the words against your skin. His soft and trailing kisses return to your skin, peppering the line of your jaw just past his fingers.

“Yes, please, I c-can. Please. I want i-it all.” You never thought you could sound so overwhelmingly desperate, but the tumbling sensation that swerves through your stomach as Hongjoong’s demeanor shifts has you falling into absolute shambles. He shifts your position, pushing you up higher to rest against the pillows, and you start to drape your legs around his waist. That must not be the position he had in mind though, because his hand clamps down hard on one of your calves and pushes it to the top of his shoulder. Before you can even blink, he does the same with your other leg, effectively folding you in half and into a position you weren’t even aware that your body was capable of. That shock is momentary as you feel the tip of what must his cock rubbing over your pulsating hole. You can’t do anything but ball your fists around the sheets under you and cling to them like a vice. It’s the only thing that can prepare you for his girth; the stretch may not be as much as you thought it would be, but it still stings like a bitch even after he bottoms out in you. That pain must be showing on your features – in the way your brows are tightly knit together and your eyes are screwed shut so that excess tears from earlier slip out.

The soft caress of lips touches your forehead. It’s so gentle and delicate that you nearly miss it in your efforts to grow used to the sensation between your legs, but Hongjoong repeats it time and time again until your breathing steadies and your chest stops heaving as much. It’s only then that he dares to resituate his hips. You crack an eye open to look at him, and it’s abundantly clear that he’s trying his hardest to hold back and keep from fucking into you with reckless abandon.

“I’m okay now,” you whisper, pulling a hand off the bedsheets to brush some loose strands of hair out of Hongjoong’s vision. “Please fuck me as hard as you’d like.” You snake the same hand around the back of his neck. When he still doesn’t move, you offer a sharp tug to the hair that falls over his sweat-slick nape, and that spurs him into action. His hips snap roughly against yours, pushing your back further into the crude curve it’s already in. Now that the dull throbbing pain has dissolved into a sensation of pleasure, you drown yourself in the drag of his member inside you. It’s quite possibly the best feeling you’ve had all night with the way his tip rubs over your bundle of nerves at just the right angle.

Hongjoong drops his elbows to the pillow under your head, and you greet him with a kiss that is mostly just an awkward clash of teeth for the most part. He gains enough composure to shift the angle to one that’s easier for both of you, hips still working hard as he rocks into you with the same force and speed as before. You are so lost in the euphoria that you can’t even feel your next orgasm sneaking up on you, but when it does, it pulls a noiseless scream from your lips. Hongjoong mouths at the corner of your lips as you ride it out. He still seems far off from his own high, even as he slows the pulses of his thrusts. You claw your way back from the high of your orgasm to grip his hair tighter and pull him closer to you.

“In me. I need you to come in me or not at all,” you demand through a huffed out sigh. It’s a moment of throwing caution to the wind, one that is quite worth it thanks to the expression of hunger and lust that fills Hongjoong’s face.

“You can’t just say things like that, doll,” he growls into the shell of your ear. You try to laugh but he interrupts you with a thrust harsher than any of the ones before. Every sound that falls from your lips now is stuttered and broken at the seams, and you let him fuck you with that same level of passion until he finally seems to tire and lose his rhythm. The only warning you have that he’s about to orgasm is the slight whine to his tone when he moans next. You push what strength you have left into clenching hard around his cock, and that is ultimately what tips him over the edge and pulls a delightful moan from his lips as he spills into your tight heat. He releases his hold on your legs, letting them slip away from his shoulders and back into a more comfortable position on the bed, but he refuses to move off your body.

You aren’t sure how long the two of you stay like that: with Hongjoong continually mouthing small kisses to the underside of your jaw and you just staring blankly at the glittering ceiling with a mind nearly empty. However much time passes doesn’t quite matter because once you recover your senses enough to be coherent again, you recall what is supposed to come next. Shaky hands find their way to Hongjoong’s arms and trail up to rest atop his back.

“Take it all away,” you exhale through a pant, hands clinging desperately to the milky skin of Hongjoong’s shoulders. “I don’t want to remember him anymore.” His chest heaves against yours, and a few loose strands of dark hair fall forward to stick to his sweat-slick forehead. This time when he kisses you, it is hot and searing, a brand against your lips, one that burns the inside of your mouth and sets your tongue alight. The sensation slips down the back of your throat, fills your gut, burns you from the inside out, and all your thoughts go hazy under the touch of his lips. With that one kiss, Hongjoong takes it all away. He gives into your desires, heeds your wishes, and grants you the ultimate peace and serenity you so deeply craved. He continues to cling to you like he’s never held something so desperately or lost in his infinite existence. You return the embrace in full while you can, strength already leaving you in the afterglow of your fornication, and you rake your nails down over his back if only to leave him with some sort of trophy to leave with. He is already leaving with your memories though, a trophy to hold close to his heart should there ever be a time when you ask for them to be returned to you. Perhaps in your afterlife, you’ll ask for them back, and Hongjoong would gladly give them should it be what you desire.

That is what he is, after all. As much as he takes, the Demon King of the Underworld gives in return, where he can with what he can. His duty, his bond, the sole purpose for his existence is to maintain that balance between giving and taking. But if it’s for you — a creature so lost, dismal, and hopeless — perhaps he can tip the scales a bit further in your direction.

At least, that’s what he thinks as you curve your body into his and press your lips with more fervor than before. That maybe, just maybe, endless years of his own hopelessness and confusion were all meant to lead him to finding this: a purpose in his undying life.

﹎﹎﹎

#atzinc #kdiarynet #kwritersworldnet #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong angst #hongjoong imagine #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong oneshot #hongjoong scenarios

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rainofaugustsith · 3 years

Text

SWTOR: It's. About. Story.

After weeks of complaints about the new Galactic Seasons program, the devs posted a response today. Unfortunately they managed to neatly sidestep almost all of the complaints players have been making en masse:

1. The PVE objectives funnel a lot of players into areas where the instances are too large for the map to accommodate, such as 30 players on CZ-198. It's thus making those areas miserable to play, and woe to anyone actually trying to complete story (such as Rishi and Yavin 4).

Solutions to this issue would be a) lower the number of players in each instance; b) distribute the objectives more broadly so players don't all converge on a few specific areas. EA/BW said nothing about the former and doubled down on making the objectives narrow for the latter, at least for the first season of GS.

2. The "RNG" for objectives is very heavily skewed toward PVP and GSF, which are activities many players dislike and do not want to do. It's not uncommon to have both GSF and Warzones come up as the day's POs, and there's only one re-roll.

3. Re-rolling any objective often results in GSF or PVP coming up again. There's only one, so that often means a player cannot complete their PO (s) for the day.

As solutions to #2 and #3, players have been asking for a) more re-rolls; b) a way to toggle mission preference between PVE, solo PVE and PVP objectives so they avoid the ones they hate and won't do.

4. There are no solo weekly POs.

It seems as though EA/BW is making a conscious effort to ignore all the feedback on what many players actually want from the game and the issues they've expressed both on the PTS and live, to try to push the play styles they - and a small clique of fans - personally favor. It feels to me that they are trying to force the game and the player base to be something they're not.

SWTOR was marketed as a story based game. Its core demographic comes largely from two single-player, story-based games: KOTOR and KOTOR II. When it was released it was praised for the richness of its storytelling, and the strength of its voiceover artists.

Not PVP.

Not raids.

Not GSF.

Story. Good, substantial story.

The writing on the wall is there with other EA/BW games, too. The next Dragon Age was changed from a MMO to a single-player game. Anthem, a game involving group play, failed. Fallen Order, a single-player story based game, did well.

Mass Effect and Dragon Age are a decade old. KOTOR is an older game, too. People still play them, and want more of them, because of the story.

Of course, EA/BW would love it if the SWTOR playerbase en masse learned to love PVPing and GSF. It's low-cost content for them. They don't have to do much; just provide the maps and let players kill each other. But that isn't why people play this game, overall. There are far better games for PVP, first-person shooters and space battles, if that is what one actually wants. Heck, there's an entire space battle Star Wars game, Battlefront II, if that is what one wants.

In SWTOR, it's about the story. It's about the characters.

Sometimes I feel like there are devs at EA/BW who are trying to do this with the resources they have, and I'm grateful for that effort. The swoop rally had short storylines and characters to talk with. Echoes of Oblivion brought us the best writing since KOTFE. They had a Mandalorian themed flashpoint that brought in a storyline for non-Force users. None of it was IMPS VS PUBS 4EVA!!! which was great. Even the Secrets of the Enclave was pretty good. While I dread what it may be setting up, and it's back to the IMPS VS PUBS 4EVA!!! treadmill which is boring and tedious as fuck, it was designed well and had some really excellent moments.

But...Spirit of Vengeance was designed initially at a level much more tedious, and requiring better gear, than usual story/solo flashpoints. GSF objectives get way more conquest points that anything else. Some mats are only available through ranked PVP or NiM Ops. And now, Galactic Seasons, which could have been brilliant but seems to be garnering more resentment, anger and lost subscriptions than anything else.

When is there engagement and interest in SWTOR? When does one see more people posting on the official forums? When do the planets seem busier? When there's new story or event that can be soloed.

What do people constantly ask for? New stories, new engagement with companions, new strongholds, new world building.

It's interesting that EA/BW never has to beg or bribe people to play the story. Players do it because they want to. Even KOTFE/KOTET, which are not super popular, do not require player bribes. The only story content people seem to avoid or revile en masse are the walker missions; Oricon, which needs two ops to be completed; and Makeb, which tellingly has no characters with which the player can bond and engage long-term.

The class stories? Still being played. I've been through the Sith Warrior story four times, with several clones at various points in the class story working their way through. I've been through the Sith Inquisitor story three times, again, with more clones coming up. Bounty Hunter? Three times, so far.. Smuggler? Twice, so far. Imperial Agent? Twice. I've repeated every class story at least once, and I still keep coming back to do the class stories and planetary stories and side quests, because they are good. Because I like the characters I meet. Because the planets are engaging.

Shadow of Revan? Still being played.

I still see people on Ilum. I see people on Onderon and Ossus. Even Zakuul and Iokath. The story content gets played, and played again. One of the things people have requested again and again, in fact, is a way to repeat the story content.

Voiceover artists are expensive, especially when three languages are being recorded, but players have offered ways to add engagement with companions without speech, such as emails from them. Silent missions. You don't need to have a voiceover artist to animate a short scene of Lana Beniko or Theron Shan dancing on the beach with a PC they've romanced. Even if they cannot keep up every romance, if they just kept up with Lana and Theron it would make players happy. Add in, let's say, four or six selected from the class stories - let's say Scourge, Kira, Quinn, Jorgan, Vette, Risha - and a lot of people would be overjoyed. Four men, four women; equal number from each faction + KOTFE. That does leave an uneven number of mlm/wlw possibilities but there are two of each, as well. And those companions can certainly have platonic friendly conversations with the PC, too. I personally really miss Vette, Talos, Xalek, Blizz, Ashara and Jaesa being in my story. And many others, too.

The things being offered by GS are things that story players enjoy - decos, new strongholds, companions with side story missions - and this makes it even more frustrating that story players are being expected to PVP, GSF and use Group Finder, unless they want to buy their way through, to get them. Don't get me wrong - the fact that it's all optional makes me less angry at EA/BW than Iokath and Oricon did, by a long shot. All the same, it's a shame they're setting it up this way, because if they gave story/solo players objectives that were not PVP and group based, I think they'd be seeing a lot more excitement and engagement right about now.

Right now, it seems EA/BW is far more interested in catering to a smaller player group who enjoys side content that the rest of the player base has to be actively bribed and coerced to play. Should PVP and GSF get development? Sure, if people enjoy it. Should the game try to funnel the rest of us into it? No. The fact that players don't want to be there, and have expressed that sentiment again and again, and constantly need to be bribed and coerced into it, should be a wakeup call. But EA/BW is still sleeping and hitting the snooze button.

SWTOR is a story-based game. Raids, PVP, GSF are all wonderful for those who enjoy them but they are not for everyone. Players in a story based game need story.

#swtor #rain talks swtor #swtor critical #ea/bw critical #galactic seasons critical

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wevegottogetaway · 3 years

Text

Thanks fo’ saving my ass tonight

I got so much going on with uni, but I couldn’t resist. If you too are queen/king of procrastinating uni work, you have my deepest support! Hope you enjoyed x

TW: none (except fool language)

Part 2 - Part 3*

Office parties have never been y/n’s cup of tea, the idea of enjoying yourself in the very place people usually count down the hours before they can leave, is rather ludicrous in her humble opinion. Alas as the boss’ personal assistant, she not only had to plan and organize the whole shebang but her presence was also required, supervision purposes and all that. The only solace sweetening the deal for her was that she’d be in charge of the catering too, and y/n learnt very early on that good food and greater booze could make any boring work function at least tolerable.

Now that the festivities are in full swing, conversation flowing almost as heartily as the champagne in the guests’ eager mouths, y/n thinks she did quite well. The vast open space of the office is decorated with taste, the music set at the perfect level as to not overpower the boring chitchat bouncing off its walls, and to her greatest delight, the catering company she hired has truly outdone themselves. All in all, everybody seems to be having a grand time, and y/n decides that’s reason enough to officially relieve herself of her supervisor’s duties.

As she scans over the assortment of canapés, mini-quiches, crudités and other mouth-watering ambrosias, y/n fails to notice the tall figure casually approaching her. She’s in the midst of pondering whether she should try the humous or a cream cheese and salmon toast first, mouth salivating and stomach growling in appetite, when a raspy voice interrupts her inner battle, "I see m’not the only one who’s here just fo’ the food".

Her eyes pop off the delicious hors d’oeuvres to the sight gracing them next and she doesn’t know which is the most appetizing. Because standing a few feet from her is Harry, vibrant smile and pretty dimples on show, as he leans over the verrines platter to pick the best-looking one. He’s wearing an olympic blue floral suit on top of a scandalously unbuttoned transparent shirt, a bold number that would grant anyone else looks of surprise and confusion but looked absolutely divine on his broad frame. Besides, after two years working at the office, everyone had gotten used to his unconventional fashion choices by now.

Y/n quirks an eyebrow in curiosity as she dips a cucumber stick in a bowl of humous, before quipping, "not a big fan of these things?"

Harry lets out a small chuckle in a ‘no kidding’ way, and attaches his emerald eyes to hers, "they’re kind of a drag, if m’bein’ honest."

She smiles at his admission, realizing they both share an aversion for mundanities, "I know right. Like, why party here where everyone has to be on their best behavior when we could be down at the bar without the boss gallivanting around?" she cries out in exasperation and not for the first time, Harry thinks she’s quite possibly the most endearing thing he’s ever seen. His smile widens the tiniest bit at her passionate rant, "my thoughts exactly. Do we even know what we’re supposed to celebrate?" The question makes her laugh, she wouldn’t have known either if not for her involvement in the affair, "well as the person behind this all drag," she give him a pointed look at his jeering choice of word, "it would be weird if I didn’t."

Harry’s face falls at the possibility of having offended her, but his uneasiness quickly dissipates when she starts laughing at him. "M’sorry, that came out wrong," he tells her before letting out a giggle of his own and y/n revels in the moment. The idea of interacting with him beyond the usual ‘here’s the presentation for today’s conference’ or ‘do you have the quarterly report ready’ is rather intoxicating for her already feeble nerves. "Don’t worry, I take no offense, I’m just as bored as you are," she reassures him with a smile, "the party is for a new potential investor, something about wooing them with some ‘corporate fun’. S’a load of bullshit if you ask me".

Harry nods at the explanation unimpressed, his boss’ intentions being the least of his worries. Aside from being the classic douche every manager typically insists on being, the guy has always made his distaste about him pretty clear, so Harry would rather focus on more interesting things. Like how beautiful y/n looks right now, her hair tied up in a loose bun at the top of her head, leaving a few strands to fall around her face. "You look amazing, by the way," he brings himself to say, though he thinks his compliment doesn’t even do her justice.

Y/n looks down at her own outfit then: a knee-length red dress composed of a skater skirt and a backless top that only holds with a couple pressure buttons clasped behind her neck. Her cheeks warm up to match the color of her apparel, betraying the timidity she’s always fallen victim of whenever he happened to be in her vicinity. Y/n’s never been one to shy away from her feelings or trip over her own words when facing her crushes, but there is something about Harry that teleports her right back to her sheepish 13 year-old teenage self. Also, she’s not too keen on office romances and the drama that usually ensues so she’s always made sure to stifle her blossoming attraction and keep their relation work-appropriate. Surely that must account for most of her awkwardness, doesn’t it?

Her eyes trail back to his face and her response comes in a shy euphemism, "thank you, you clean up quite nicely yourself." It’s enough to quirk Harry’s lips in a bashful smile, their complexion evidently on edge as they tread uncharted territories. Professionalism has always regimented their interactions with kind but polite rigidness, neither of them quite inclined to cross that invisible line, but tonight seems to challenge that.

Tonight, Harry is resolute in his infatuation, no longer inhibited from social construct but driven by a quest for knowledge; anything that will help him decipher her carefully shielded crux. Tonight, he endeavors to scrape the edges of her rough diamond to expose the gem encapsulated inside, peel back the stoic layers of her exterior to find her unapologetic and intrinsic nature. Tonight, he is thirsty for secrets and confidential disclosures, and he won’t leave until he’s drained it all out of her. Unless she tells him to fuck off, obviously.

Harry keeps the conversation going as he browns the buffet for a new delicacy to snack on, "so, what would you be doing if you didn’t have to be here?" He wants to know everything, the present and the past, the good and the bad, the superficial and the substance, the messy and the orderly, but he figures he should start by what she likes to do in her own time. The things that loosen her up after a tense week at work, the things that will make her eyes shine with passion as she relates them back to his curious mind.

The question reaches her ears as she takes a sip of her drink, "mmm," she smiles around her glass before placing it back on the table, "-that’s easy. Playing pool with the gang at Gibson’s." Her answer spills without hesitation, a heap of follow-up questions already brewing up in Harry’s brain, but the foreign name is what beckons his attention first, "Gibson’s?" he echoes with a faint rumple pulling the skin between his eyes. Is that the name of a friend? A boyfriend? Out of all the questions he’s contemplated, y/n’s relationship status never crossed his mind. He’s always assumed her to be a single woman, the evidence of a significant other never present in her language and demeanor.

A wave of relief washes over him at her elaboration, "it’s a bar couple blocks from my place. It’s been my friends and I’s HQ ever since we all met." The sentiment has her eyes sparkle at the remembrance of all the happy memories the place hosted, and Harry stores the information in his mental list of all y/n’s soft spots.

"Sounds rad, so you play pool?" he inquires with enthusiasm. He’s been knows to play a game or two in his youth, though it’s been a hot minute since he’s felt the weight of the cue in his hands as he sinks ball after ball in their respective pockets. He remembers the elation of it all, the adrenaline coursing through his veins at each successful strike, and his heart flutters at the thought of ever sharing a game with her; she seems like the competitive type in the most entertaining way possible. Before his thoughts can spiral into much filthier realms, like bending her over the table mid-game when his own skills prevail and she turns into a sore-loser, y/n’s voice rings him back to reality.

"Uh uh, correction," her expression suddenly turns in false seriousness before she proves him right about her competing tendencies, "I win at pool." Her eyes are so full of confidence, a spice of mischief sparkling in their corner, she would have no difficulty persuading anyone of anything that passes the threshold of her mouth. Harry certainly doesn’t doubt her mastery of the bar game, but it doesn’t stop him from challenging her in a slightly elevated pitch, "oh is that so?"

Y/n only grins at the banter, not at all fazed by his taunting remark, "maybe you’ll have to find out for yourself." She reaches for another snack, not taking her come-hither look off his handsome face, and Harry revels in her flirtatious advances, a smug smile taking possession of his lips as he surfs of the same wave of seduction. "Is that a challenge?" he philanders back, fueling the sensual back-and-forth they seem to have embarked upon.

"Not much of a challenge if I know I’ll win," y/n replies with cheek, her self-assurance once again burgeoning like sexy wildflowers sprouting from the ground underneath Harry’s feet, wrapping around his ankle and growing along his body to twine around his spellbound heart. He absolutely loves her unfaltering aplomb, finds it undoubtably sexy but he can’t let her know that just yet.

"Cocky."

"Confident."

They both chuckle at their repartee, enjoying this ping-pong of quick-witted banter they’ve never found in anybody else before. It’s like their intellects were meant to collide in galvanizing forces, the encounter of two fiery psychs too brilliant to one up the other.

Harry is mesmerized by their connection, if he knew sparks would fire this bright, he would have made a move ages ago. "Fuck, you’re something else," he shakes his head in incredulity before confessing, "definitely not what I expected."

Y/n’s chest tingles at his comment, a rivulet of liquid glee leaking through her arteries to pump her heart and her ego full of bliss, "Oh so you expected something, did you?" She punctuates her teasing with a thousand-watts power smirk, and Harry finds it strikingly alluring.

Not about to let her have the upper hand however, a burst of smugness crosses his features as he boomerangs her earlier allurement back to her, "maybe you’ll have to find out for yourself." It earns him a deep jazzy laugh rooted in her tummy and a tinge of pride swirling in his own. He wants to pry laugh after laugh from her belly until her last giggle, only relenting once the muscles in her chest are aching from unbridled joy.

Y/n sighs in content before taking a bite out of a mini-tartlet as she considers how to proceed in this much too flirty conversation. "So what would you be doing tonight, if not for this stupid party?" she returns his first question before realizing, "-wait a sec, what are you doing here if you hate these things so much? My presence was mandatory but yours isn’t."

"I’ll have you know I was coerced into coming too," he quips back in a fake defensive tone, hand pressing to his chest, "Mike from accounting begged me to tag along, he just broke up with his girlfriend so I didn’t have the heart to tell him no." The selfishness of the gesture softens her heart in a goo of adoration, but she can’t let him know that just yet.

"Softie."

"Chivalrous."

His comeback has her giggle, a rejoinder already tiptoeing at the edge of her lips, "see, who’s cocky now?" Her eyes are full of jest and lightness, somehow taking the weight of the party off his shoulders. Turns out, food and booze are not the only remedies for boring work functions, y/n’s company is just as effective if not more, and that’s with the guarantee of a hangover-less comes next morning. Harry is truly happy he decided to make an appearance tonight, a sentiment he definitely didn’t foresee for the night. The realization has him faintly shaking his head in amazement, his lips letting out another whispered "something else" softly enough that it doesn’t quite reach her already inflated ears.

"So did you have any plans tonight?" She reiterates the question not wanting to ever stop talking with him.

There are probably a hundred exciting plans he could have conjured up to come off half as intriguing as she seems to be, but instead he decides to go the honest route, "nah, I would have probably crash on my couch, this week’s been pretty hectic." His truth is confirmed by the faded blackness tinting the skin below his eyes, a proof of hard work and long hours under the heedlessness of a greedy superior. Y/n knows it all too well, having had firsthand experience with her boss’ jackassery. That’s why she directly inquires, "boss giving you trouble?"

Part of Harry is eager to steer the conversation back to more pleasant waters but he guesses talking a little bit about work was inevitable at some point, especially since they both share palpable distaste for their superior. "The maniac keeps giving me last minute reports like I’m expected to work all night along on his bullshit projects," he explains dejectedly before running his hand through his luscious curls in sign of frustration. "Barely finished in time fo’ the party tonight, I had to slip in his office to put the file on his desk, that fucker had already left."

Y/n listens attentively, her chest tightening in empathy at the recollection of his misfortune. She’s very familiar with the embittering feeling that comes with working your ass for someone that barely registers your efforts and dishes the office hours before you can even dream of clocking off. She’s faced the same scenario time and time again, including tonight, when she’d come up to lock the boss’ office hours after he left to get pampered for the party. She barely got time to make the double commute to and from her place, much less spend hours getting dolled up. She does remember the odd file on her boss’ desk though, "oh I was wondering what that blue folder was about, he never usually leave unattended paperwork on his desk."

Harry starts nodding in confirmation before stopping dead, eyes widened in distress, "wait, did you just say blue?" he asks in urgency.

Y/n frowns at his sudden agitation, her mind reeling to try and visualize the state of the surroundings she left several hours ago. She’s pretty positive she saw a blue binder laying there, not that she knows the ramifications of that simple fact, "yes I think so, why?"

The dire nature of the situation becomes painfully obvious as Harry’s face turns into a mess of dread and panic, "oh shit, oh fuck, no no no," the words keep tumbling from his mouth in a ramble of nerves. "So stupid, m’so fucked" he keeps muttering self-admonition in quiet anger, hands griping at the root of his hair.

Concern is starting to fester in y/n’s guts as she takes in his disheveled state, "Harry, Jesus, take a breath, tell me what’s going on," she steps closer to him, one hand softly holding at his biceps as she tries to connect their gazes.

Once his eyes plug into hers, pupils blown out in turmoil, he finally calms down enough to word out his mishap, "s’not the right file on his desk, I only use red binders for the reports." Spinning around out of her hold to shout his stress back to the wall in a loud "fuck!", Harry’s mind is caught up in a swirl of possible excuses to give to his boss, all sounding more ridiculous than the other. He can’t think of way to fix his mistake and escape the inevitable berating coming his way comes morning.

Fortunately for him, y/n is not about to let this happen, "it’s okay, we’ll fix this," she encourages. "What’s on his desk right now?"

Harry looks back at her then, not totally convinced that this all mayhem is salvageable. His boss is never going to tolerate this minor negligence, especially once he finds out the irrelevant material mistakenly slipped amongst his work. "My 14 year-old niece’s english project" the answer comes out as a question, a hint of self-deprecating humor lacing through his words. "Bloody hell, he’s gon’ have my head fo’ that one."

Harry is adamant in his doom, but if anything, y/n is not a quitter. "No he’s not. He hasn’t seen it yet, right? You said he was already gone when you brought the file."

He takes a long breath, "I suppose not."

"Guess it’s a good thing I have the keys to his office then, yeah?" She smiles proudly as a beacon of hope shines on his conflicted face. The forest green of his eyes seems to breath back to life in an endearing revival, effectively tugging at y/n’s heart’s merciful strings.

"Fuck, you’d do that fo’ me?" his shoulders loosen up in relief, the tension slowly simmering down to a gentle buzz, as he envisages the possibility of an illicit break-in. Well, as illicit as it may be, considering they have the keys. Still, best they don’t get caught snooping in the boss’ office, for both of their sake.

"Of course, silly. No questions asked," y/n answers with a smile, and her willingness to put herself in potential trouble, warms Harry’s heart from inside out.

"Y/n, you’re an angel, a life savior," he grabs her shoulders in each of his hands, his gratitude painted all over his soft traits. "Fuck, I could kiss you right now." The words fly out of his mouth without him realizing their significance after spending the last ten minutes coming onto her. And well, y/n isn’t too opposed to the idea either, and she thinks she might hold him to that promise in retribution for her saving grace when the time and space works better in their favor. "Alright Casanova, let’s get your ass out of this mess," she grabs her purse form the table and takes his hand to guide him through the cluster of people milling around the office space, eventually reaching the row of elevators across the room.

As they stand waiting for their lift to come, Harry starts fidgeting with nervous energy, feeling like a kid who’s about to get caught trying to steal straight from the cookie jar. "Shit, alright, we have to be discrete if we want to pull this off," he tells her, not taking his eyes off the room in case someone would look at them and read their plan straight off their guilty-looking faces.

"Says the guy in the flashy suit," y/n immediately counters, in an attempt to revive the playfulness of their synergy. The night was going swimmingly before the whole ordeal, and she’s convinced this foxy little adventure can only add to the appeal of an evening full of surprises.

Harry’s indignation at her dig teeters from his pouty lips, "hey! It’s not that bad." She giggles at his poor rebuttal, and as the doors of the elevator open, they quickly take a few steps inside.

"Harry, that suit is so loud, it could break the sound barrier," y/n teases as she eyes the crowd of people frivolously chatting away, while waiting for the door to close back.

"Thought I cleaned up nicely," he cheekily throws back her words from earlier, letting them resonate within the small confines of the elevator as they make their way up to their boss’ office.

She turns to face him then, a smile spreading on her supple lips, "don’t get me wrong, you look wonderful, just nowhere near decent for a secret spy mission."

Her words have him beaming back at her in a second, his mind fixated on her compliment rather than how impractical it is that his clothes are flashier than the Queen’s; in his defense, neither are y/n’s. "Damn, just got upgraded from nice to wonderful, this night is actually turning around," he chirps as the door open to the deserted hallway of the top floor.

"Alright, more action and less flirting, Styles," y/n playfully chides him. "Go get the right file, while I open his door, we should be quick in case he decides to bring the tour and his special guest up here." She sends him off with a tilt of her chin in what she knows to be the direction of his office, and Harry complies with ease and starts backtracking a few doors down, "yes ma’am."

While he’s gone to fetch the correct document from his office, y/n rummages through her purse to find the key of her boss’ office and unlock the door. Once she’s inside, she makes her way around the imposing mahogany desk commanding the space, and finds the imposter file sitting innocently on the polished wood. For pure curiosity’s sake, she starts leafing through its contents and lets a small chuckle as she takes in the endearing work of a young aspiring writer.

Her reading is interrupted by Harry’s hurried strides when he joins her in the room. "Here’s the damn report," he flings the folder on the desk next to his niece’s, red clashing with blue, mocking him for his slight negligence. As he absorbs the sight of y/n’s face engrossed in the teenage’s fiction, he moves slowly behind her, getting a glimpse at his niece’s whimsical words over her shoulder, before his eyes settle on the bare skin of her back.

Y/n welcomes his sudden proximity, has stranding on end as she feels the soft puffs of his breaths against her neck. "Your niece is quite the writer, does she always come to you for advice?"

She ignores the shivers running down her spine, and gulps when Harry’s voice greets her ears in a deep quiet hoarse, closer than she excepted, "usually, yeah. I was the one who got her into writing, so it’s kinda become our thing, I guess."

She smiles at his softness, "that’s really sweet," and draws in a long breath in a vain attempt to calm her jitters. She can almost feel his presence on her skin though they’re technically not touching, her fingertips tingling in anticipation.

Another frisson travels through her when he responds with a low "mhm," his nose slightly grazing behind her ear, taking in her beguiling fragrance. Jasmine and vanilla, fresh and soft, exciting and comforting at the same time; it suits her perfectly.

"Harry-" she doesn’t know what to follow the whisper of his name with. Careful? Not here? Please don’t stop? At this point, she wants nothing more than to succumb to his affections, regardless of their improper whereabouts.

Harry brushes the back of his index down the smooth skin of her back in a featherlike caress, "thanks fo’ saving my ass, tonight," he murmurs into her ear, before laying a small kiss behind it.

Y/n is exulting under his tender ministrations, her eyes closed to enhance the feeling of his touch. "Anytime," she breathes out as her head tilts backward, a hand coming behind his neck in a silent plea not to let go, and Harry smiles against her skin at her receptiveness, goosebumps of his own blossoming across his body.

His next words are out of his mouth before he can think, "mmm, I owe you a big one," his playful persona resurfacing now that the situation was handled. They snort in unison at the double-entendre, and Harry slides his free arm around her waist to bring her closer to his chest in silent remittance. Y/n doesn’t mind though, she kinda likes this boyish side of him, but she can’t let him know that just yet.

"Gross."

"Hilarious."

Their ping-pong of wisecrack is back despite the tension permeating the air. It’s the kind that speeds heartbeats and moistens palms in lustful anticipation, the kind that curtails people’s breath as their lungs fill up with voluptuous aphrodisia. "Will you let me kiss you? Show you all my gratitude? I really wanna have a taste, love," he pleads for her permission, and y/n is too consumed by desire to deny him, "have it."

In one swift move, he spins around and latches his eager lips onto her. Passion ensues, hands roaming all over each other to find the perfect hold; the back of a neck, the lapels of a suit jacket, a few strands of hair, the curve of an exposed ribcage, it’s all intoxicating but there is always more to explore. Their tongues are caught up in a heated tango of their own, swirling around each other to quench the thirst of passion, licking their lustful way around their mouths.

At one point, Y/n finds herself pressed against her boss’ desk, one leg around Harry’s waist as he attaches his hips to hers in a heated embrace that leaves them breathless upon parting. He rests his forehead against her temple as they both process the intimate exchange, not ready to burst out of this fairy bubble. "Fuck, been waiting to do that for a while," he exhales with a smile, still incredulous at the evening’s proceedings, and the girl nestled in his arms.

"Same," she agrees and gently cups his face to bring his eyes back to hers, barely believing the adoration and warmth swimming within his lovely olive irises.

Harry’s heart feels like a ticking bomb about to implode, the sweet taste of her lips already providing him with a fix he didn’t know he was addicted to. "One more," he demands against her mouth before diving into another searing kiss. This time his hands explore more meticulously, scavenging for other soft spots to add on to his mental list. The dimples in her back right above the curve of her ass seem to rival the area at her side right below the swell of her breast, but Harry is pretty sure he’ll find more sensitive spots in the near future. Hopefully.

Once again, the need for oxygen compels them to part way, but neither of them make a move to separate their tangled limbs. Y/n is reveling in the moment she’s been daydreaming about for months, "so good," she keeps whispering sweet nothing against his lips while rubbing her nose against the bridge of his.

Harry clears his throat as he regains his bearings, realizing that there are still very much in the middle of their boss’ office, a place they are not supposed to be in, doing stuff they’re not supposed to be doing. At least not here. "Let’s get outta here, yeah?" he brushes a strand of hair that fell in front of her face, "you can kick my ass at that game of pool as promised, and I’ll tend to yours once we’re back at my place, what’dya say?"

And well, how can one say no to that?

➪ Masterlist

#harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #Harry fic #harry styles au #ofc #reader insert #coworker!harry #office au #fluff #flirting #harry styles fluff

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melisa-may-taylor72 · 3 years

Photo

Record Mirror- 08-25-1984

Ministry Of Works

Did you know that Freddie Mercury wants to make a reggae record? And that Roger Taylor would be selling flowers if he wasn't in Queen? Read on for more fascinating facts

MAYHEM IN Munich! Freddie Mercury is cavorting with a scantily dressed transvestite and it's only three in the afternoon. Are you man or woman enough to read on? Then swallow your vitamin pills and follow me.

Queen are limbering up for their forthcoming tour in Germany and to celebrate another single rising majestically up the charts, they're holding a little press bash in Munich's P1 club. A place even more decadent than the South Finchley Whiskey A Go Go.

The ghost of Adolf Hitler probably wanders around here on dark nights, as The Fuhrer used to store his paintings and other plunder in the club and the building next door. Unfortunately there's nothing left around today.

Instead, the club has gems of another kind. A selection of Queen's videos including the notorious 'Body Language' — and champagne and wine flowing like Niagara Falls.

The cabaret is Freddie's own idea: a group of well passed it drag artists, so outrageous in G strings and lingerie that they make Divine seem as tame as Marjorie Proops. Freddie's more than willing to join in when one of the girls does a rendition of 'I Want To Break Free', but the rest of the members of Queen look on shyly from the comforts of the bar. Everybody, but everybody is here to witness the event, including a film crew from the US air force, tramping around in full combat gear making a nuisance of themselves.

Freddie's doing well considering he's in quite a lot of pain. He remains tight lipped about the full details but he injured his leg after an incident in a club. A physiotherapist has been pummelling at it nearly every day.

"This c+ + + kicked me," says Fred. "I'm hoping my knee will be ready in time for the tour, but it's still giving me a lot of trouble. It might mean I will have to cut down on some of my more elaborate gorgeous stage moves."

FRED'S ALSO been hobbling around a Munich recording studio putting the finishing touches to his first ever solo album which should be out in January. Gadzooks, could this be the start of a split with Queen? Is it true Limahl's going to take over?

"Not at all. I've wanted to do a solo album for a long time and the rest of the band have encouraged me to do it. Some of them are even featured doing a few bits and pieces to help me out.

"There are a lot of musical territories I wanted to explore, which I couldn't really do with Queen. I wanted to cover such things as reggae rhythms and I've done a couple of tracks with a symphony orchestra. It will have a very rich sound."

Fred's also done some work with Michael Jackson, but he still doesn't know when this is going to see the light of day. They've done a selection of tracks together in Michael's home studio. For a while, Fred was even in the running to do 'State Of Shock'.

"I was out of town at the time so Mick did it instead," he says. "I don't mind at all. I'd like to release something with Michael because he is a really marvellous person to work with. It's all a question of time because we never seem to be together at the right time. Just think, I could have been on 'Thriller'. Think of the royalties I've missed out on.

"Michael has been a friend of ours for a long time. He's been to our shows and enjoyed them. We make a great team."

One of Fred's songs 'Love Kills', is being used on the soundtrack of the reactivated 'Metropolis' film and he hopes to make a 20 minute video using four or five of his own songs.Freddie and all the members of Queen have a long standing appreciation of 'Metropolis', which originally came out in 1927. Their stage set, in the shape of a futuristic city, has been inspired by it.The lighting rig measures 74ft by 50ft and the original design was so heavy they had to change it because it was in danger of bringing theatre roofs down. What a way to go, crushed by your own equipment.

AFTER THE European tour. Queen will be taking the whole shebang down to South America, headlining a 10 day festival in Rio. The place they will be playing is an amphitheatre down by the sea that can seat 300,000 people a night. It all makes Castle Donington seem like just another night at the Marquee. A local radio station in Rio held a survey to see who the most popular bands were and then some local promoters went out and booked them for the extravaganza. Naturally, Queen came out top.

Queen will also be doing some shows in South Africa. This is more than just a little bit controversial. Especially with the memory of Nelson Mandela still very warm.

"We've thought about the morals of it a lot and it's something we've decided to do," says Brian May. "This band is not political, we are not out to make statements, we play to entertain anybody who comes to listen. The show will be in Botswana in front of a mixed audience."

The band wanted to play Russia but the authorities objected. This situation might change now though, considering that Iron Maiden have been let into Poland to wreak havoc. *

"The Russians still think we're very decadent," confides Roger Taylor. "We want to play China as well, and Korea. John and I spent a holiday in Korea and it's a fascinating place. They're finishing work on the Olympic stadium for the next games!

Perhaps the Ruskies heard about Roger's high living on Ibiza. He's bought a house there and enjoys powerboat racing. Play time is over for the time being, though. After their two year break. Queen have been working more than 12 hours a day rehearsing.

"It's strange how rusty we are, and so we're trying to blow the cobwebs away," continues Roger. "It's taking a lot of work. Usually we rehearse until about nine and then we eat together and decide what we're going to do in the evenings. The clubs here are really fun. Something to cater for every taste or perversion.

"On the tour we'll be playing a lot of the old material and we'll be giving the audience what they want. A lot of the music I hear in the charts today doesn't interest me. I just can't see how anybody can get excited over Spandau Ballet. It doesn't send shivers up my spine. I like listening to Bruce Springsteen."

They might be old stagers, but Roger claims that tickets for Queen's British shows sold oul in three hours flat and they could have easily played another 12 nights here.

"We still have the rock and roil gypsy mentality," he says. "Even after 12 years without a line-up change we still really enjoy the buzz from playing live and the fact that we have hit singles. Some bands in our position might take it all in their stride, but we're still like kids, we get very excited.

"You've got to have a laugh haven't you? If Queen wasn't any fun, then I'd jack it all in and go and sell flowers."

Robin Smith

@natromanxoff, @mephisto92, @moviestorian, @x5vale, @39-brian, @onegoldenglance, @crosmopolitan, @an-abyss-called-life, @his-majesty-king-mercury, @i-live-for-queen, @brian-39-may, @toomuchlove-willkillyou, @brimaymay, @sail-away-sweet-sister, @drummerqueenrmt, @old-fashioned-roger-boy, @briianmaay, @inui-mycroft, @deacytits, @iminlovewithrogscar, @drowseoftaylor, @brianmayislongaway, @balticlover, @astrophysicist-guitar-god, @miez-lakatz, @brianmayoucease, @jesus-in-a-life-boat, @aslongasthereismusic, @silapril, @sherrifanciesfriskyfreddie, @tenderbri, @brianmydear, @thosequeenboys, @millionairewaltz-carpediem, @painandpleasure86, @bribrifrenchfry, @xlucylennonx, @a-night-at-the-abbey-road, @inthedayswhenlandswerefew, @madformeddowstaylor, @queenrogertaylorfan, @let-roger-get-a-lunch, @queen-for-life, @rethought, @drivenbybrianmay @mymakeupmaybeflaking, @old-but-still-a-child, @let-roger-get-a-lunch, @warriorteam1924, @funnydressesweirdhairanddance, @thefanhuman13, @yourtieddownmother, @hgmercury39, @brimi-stardust, @thefairyfellermercury, @sailawaysweetbrimi, @sophiaintheskywithdiamonds, @holybrianmaywritingbear, @lydiannode, @39-yellow-daffodils , @ure-gonna-loveme-when-u-seeme, @kaykaybeachgirl, @foxmonkey, @deakysgurl, @redspecialandclogsandcurls, @briansrainbowsocks-deactivated2, @delilahmay39, @ohmybribri, @bless-the-queen, @everythingaboutfreddie, @doitforthevine67, @recordsoftheseventies, @rhysjoejoshtomfarisblog, @tenementfunsterwithpurpleshoes, @drummah-in-a-rocknroll-band, @beatlegirl1968, @maylorsqueen, @autumnscenemcyt, @gralto, @alittlepeoplemagic, @rainbowsockbrian, @frejudy, @drivenbybrimay, @yourlocalmusicalprostitute, @saik-ava, @omb-xx, @sassymaylor, @somekindofroger, @starlightmay, @freddiemercuryismylife, @sunshine112, @chrysochromulina, @glitteryloveravenue, @deakyislife51, @0-primejive-0, @just-a-skinny-lad, @bluewillowmom, @sassiesillie, @stesichoreanpalinode, @mrfahrenheitmercury @tayloredofqueen, @0-my-fairy-queen-0, @scandalacious @izzy-is-slightly-mad @39-volunteers-to-space @zodiacaldust, @deakytaylor, @queenband70s, @deakyeveryday, @drivenbybrimay, @70smay, @brianharoldmay39, @everybandsnotqueen, @johns-diqi @oneandthreeseventh

#Queen #article

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mrdrhenwardhykle · 3 years

Text

So, I had this thought process

I've been thinking a lot about that Adam Sandler movie "Pixels", and I think I just wrote a summarized alternate plot for it in my head and I need to write it down.

Okay;

Let's start by brainstorming on writing better and more relatable protagonists. For many, this movie is very hard to watch because it almost feels like a bunch of middle-aged guy's writing in nice-guy self inserts of themselves to feel better about whatever mid-life crisis they're having. And maybe this wouldn't be too bad if their characters were just a bit more than "middle aged creep who lives in his mom's basement is secretly a romantic warrior when put in the right scenario".

At least for me, it's very hard to relate to that kind of protagonist; given how that character is usually the most developed out of all the characters in this type movie. I often find that it's hard to relate to nerdy nice guy characters who often get away with the lack of likeable qualities just because "life should have treated them better". It comes off more as a pity-party more than anything, and their unmotivated dynamic with the "out of their league" love interest, who always comes off as nothing more than a trophy and\or act as an excuse to get the climax rolling in the last 20 minutes after getting captured by the big bad.

So then, how would I write an 80's nostalgia themed adventure movie? What, say, would you think would be a practical way to write the main cast in a way that audiences new and old can relate? Easy; If your intention is to give your entire audience a wave of nostalgia, but to still keep it relatable, then why not make your main cast kids? (credit to Black Nerd Comedy for that idea) I would probably suggest between the age of 12 and 16, and maybe with the occasional big brother\sister type characters and some of their friends . Kids often have a ton of freedom, a large imagination, basic priorities, and a lot less worries than adults. Just about anyone should be able to relate to that, since everybody either was or is a kid at some point of time. And I'm not saying that you can't write for\relate to older protagonists, but you don't want to alienate your audience, especially when making something that might catch the eye of a younger crowd.

Not to mention that ever since the 80's, kids have always been a major player by the impact of technology. For some reason though, the plot of Pixels doesn't really have to do with technology. There's guns and contraptions that are specifically made to destroy the pixels, but it doesn't really go much father than that with the tech. The plot more focuses on going on the "alien invasion" route (which I would think would be more 60's sci-fi based than 80's, which was more experimental in cosmic horror with its alien media)(not including Space Invaders. Shush. That does not count). Honestly, I think 80's nostalgia can be replaced with just about anything when it comes to a "shape-shifting aliens who mimic earthly cultures" plot. It's very basic, yet it doesn't really fit in with the theme of arcade games. It just comes off as a poor excuse for pandering to 80's kids, instead of using that element to bring up interesting concepts and world-exploring in this universe.

So I have two solutions for this, either;

A. Do not do a time jump, and keep the story in the 80's. Make it an alternate universe where different forms of consoles and computers are being developed. Maybe the adult characters are very unfamiliar with these changes, but allowing for the kid characters to have more of an advantage because that stuff would be more relevant to them. Because this was before a time where kids often thought about becoming programmers, it will also work as a disadvantage to the kids because they won't have an excuse to suddenly know how the opposing side works.

Or B. It takes place in a modern era, with Virtual reality, game consoles, and laptops, but it doesn't overly modernize itself with teens on phones, saying outdated things like "lemmie just take a selfie" saying "hashtag" out loud, or any junk like that (Because guess what? Teens and kids don't usually act like that). Maybe make the environment time neutral by making it a mix between the 2010's, 2000's, 1990's, and 1980's. I don't really think it's relevant enough to work in a present setting.

And lastly, let's talk about the big bad of the movie.

Really in Pixels, it's more of a self-struggle either projected upon others, or manifested into it's own being for the protagonist to succeed. There's not really a lot of leg space for anyone else to develop other than the main character (and perhaps something happens occasionally to the comedic reliefs\mascot characters). I imagine maybe this version doesn't have just one central character\plot, kind of like Stranger Things. However, unlike Stranger Things, I would also like a compelling and intriguing villain. Sadly, Pixels doesn't really have that; i has Donkey Kong, but he's nothing more than an alien catering to the protagonist's inner struggles (and nostalgia). There's nothing really more to DK other than that, so there's not a lot of difference between him and any of his previous minions.

And there's nothing really compelling about DK; because at least in canon, he's just a scared circus animal. There's not a lot of reasoning behind his actions other than to just invade. It's basic alien stuff like I said before, it can basically be replaced with some other theme than arcade games.

So what would be a compelling antagonist? Foils to the main group of characters (such as an older school bully, or maybe twisted programmers), create conflict, but if we're keeping the theme of attack of the machines and videogame characters, there has to be a bigger bad than that.

Oh! If only there was an already established villain-coded, tech-based, 80's icon with the ability to control almost all technology!

....

Trust me, I'm onto something!

Max Headroom was always presented as an egotistical talking head. He had multiple shows in the 1980's, as well as guest starred on multiple shows. Perhaps Max survives off of his viewers, and constantly strives to expand his audience. Max does not tend to care about other's well beings, and just wishes to use them as a way to gain publicity for his shows. Max also has a tendency to step over whoever he needs to to gain popularity, including his own film crew.

Max also has multiple canon abilities such as:

Being able to transfer to any screen (including arcade games)

See and interact with the people watching him

Control more than one screen

Interact with himself from one screen to another (multitask)

Turn on and off lights (and likely other outlets as well)

Manipulate the visuals of the screen that he's controlling

All of these abilities can be expanded and explored enough to set him up as a powerful and unpredictable villain.

I've also came up with a couple motives as well;

A. If this is in a modern era, Max could be suffering from a long hiatus since he hasn't been that active since the 80's; causing Max to seek as much attention to thrive off of as possible. To do this, Max hijacks as many outlets as possible to air his show. He might also use this as a way to repel audiences away from all other media; making it easier to turn to him for entertainment.

B. This takes place in an alternate universe where Max Headroom became more popular than it originally was. He starts taking over half of ads and television shows on air, getting more power hungry with each channel he takes. However, in his media take-over, ratings take a slight drop due to uninterested children who have turned to other outlets like toys, videogames, and arcades. This inspires Max to take a full takeover over everything electrical, causing a full invasion of all things electrical.

(I also forgot to mention that Max very likely hates children, and has canonly protested the execution of all of them)

Bam! And there you have it. A slightly more efficient plot for Pixels.

This was rotting in my head for a while and I wanted to let it out. Sorry for the ramble.

#pixels #plot ideas #movie ideas #1980s nostalgia #rambeling #80s nostalgia #ramble #max headroom #pixels inspired #goonies inspired #tropes #arcades #pixels 2015 #goonies #adam sandler #writing rant #rant

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theonceoverthinker · 3 years

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500. As this daily series of mine comes to an end, I just want to reflect on all the MARRY time writing Fair Game HCs has brought me!

I’m freezing up as I’m trying to write even just this intro. I don’t feel ready. After a year and a half, how can I feel anything else? This series is now a part of me and ending it is like losing a piece of my soul. I have so many emotions -- too many emotions -- it doesn’t feel wrong to end the series here (The 500 milestone makes sense), but it hurts all the same.

Let me start with thank you to everyone whose read these. Seriously, I know I thank you occasionally, but I can’t do it enough. Knowing that there are people interested in what I write and think about these two and enjoy the happier life I’m paining them in the absence of canon just makes me feel so much less alone than usual. It means the world to me so please believe me when I say that I wouldn’t have gotten to 500 without each and every one of you, whether you were here from the beginning or just joined in whenever.

I’m so happy to have finally reached this moment, but simultaneously so torn up about what that means.

Will I never do another Fair Game HC again? HECK NO! While the regular daily episodes are ending, if I find another topic that I want to Fair Game-i-fy, I will definitely make more episodes, and hopefully, before long, I will! I just need to take a break from the daily updates. I’ve hit burnout several times over the past year and a half and it’s not fun, so while I still have some energy to spare, I want to end the daily series on a high note!

Also, forgive me because I’m gonna cheat this as a submission for @fairgameweek2021 while I’m at it (If it’s not cool, then my apologies). The theme today is Charms/Dreams and while neither of these come up in the HC itself, this wedding and this series as a whole I think acts as a reflection of the dreams much of the Fair Game fandom had for this ship.

When I say this, I don’t mean it in the sense of I’d be upset if not each and every one of these didn’t come true -- that’s never been what my love for Fair Game was about, nor that each and every Fair Game fan subscribes to these HCs (Good GOD, no -- not even close). Like many fans, I just wanted these two characters who deserved happiness (Especially Qrow given his almost unreal amount of trauma and hardships) and seemed like they’d finally found it with each other to get exactly that. So in the absence of canon, I hope people were able to take solace in this space and live in the daydreams I created for them here.

So here we are at long last: The Fair Game Wedding. If you want to follow the story thus far, you can check out my HC compilation page. I’ve highlighted all of the wedding HCs in green, and have fully caught up the HC list!

That said, if you don’t feel like reading all of them and just want to check out this last one, here’s the tldr for what you need to know: The wedding is taking place in the Amity communications tower (This HC series only follows canon until 7X11 for those who didn’t know because I only choose to acknowledge good writing (especially for Qrow and Clover) here), Tai is Qrow’s Best Man, Marrow is Clover’s Best Man, Robyn is officiating, Ruby’s walking Qrow down the aisle, Yang’s walking Clover down the aisle, Clover got Qrow a silver ring with four tiny encrusted emeralds, Qrow got Clover a dark ring with four tiny encrusted rubies, Qrow’s wearing an onyx tux with a white undershirt and a crimson bowtie and handkerchief, and Clover’s wearing a black tux with a white undershirt and a dark green bowtie and handkerchief.

Okay! We’re good to go!

Well, for the last regularly-scheduled time, let’s get to it!

HC under the cut!

“Uncle Qrow! Help! We can’t find your shoes!”

Ruby’s cry is what wakes Qrow up.

What a way to start the day. He hasn’t even had coffee or breakfast yet and he’s already been tasked with finding his wedding shoes. Give him a break.

It then comes to attention that this is his wedding day. By the time he goes to bed, he and Clover will be married.

His crankiness at being woken up and put to work so quickly doesn’t fully evaporate, but a lot of it does all the same.

And as Qrow starts searching his temporary room to find his shoes, he can’t help but take note of the bubbling happiness under him.

()()()()()()()()()()()

It feels so weird to Clover to wake up in the Ace Ops’ suite. He’s stopped by from time to time since leaving the Atlesian Army, especially as he’s been planning his wedding, but staying over feels simultaneously nostalgic and bizarre.

Mostly though, the odd feeling is one that stems from not waking up beside Qrow. It’s not that they haven’t slept apart, but whenever they have outside of their bachelor parties, it’s been for a mission.

Well, in all fairness, today’s at once a party and a mission, and by the end of it, he and Qrow will be back sleeping right beside each other.

Clover can just barely stand the wait.

()()()()()()()()()()

The alter is beautiful. The whites and browns and red and greens come together so nicely.

In an interesting surprise touch, Harbinger in its scythe form and Kingfisher in its rod form are tastefully placed right next to Tai and Marrow respectively. And on top of their handles, Qrow and Clover’s respective rings rest safely on each of their handles.

They’re both impressed, more so that their weapons were somehow sneak out and brought all the way to the communications tower without either’s knowledge.

Clover’s the first to arrive at Amity Tower. Tai and Marrow organized how Qrow and Clover would check in on things so they wouldn’t see each other until the ceremony. Though Clover found the superstition banal, he decides not to make a fuss about it today, not when there are more important things going on.

The sweet smell of flowers greets his nose. They’re all laid out so nicely, and possibly even more so in the reception hall. Clover looks to his and Qrow’s table, and then to his pants.

Marrow gave him back his phone this morning, and with Marrow temporarily busy in the bathroom, Clover sends Qrow a quick text before he returns.

Clover: Everything looks perfect up here, but I bet you’ll look even better. See you soon. ;)

Qrow arrives a bit later than expected...which for him was anything but unexpected. Between finding his shoes, Tai insisting on ironing his suit (”I swear, there was a wrinkle on it this morning!), making sure he got a good meal in him, cramming everyone into Tai’s car, and dealing with traffic, it’s amazing they got there when they did.

By the time Qrow gets there, the caterers are starting to arrive and their cake is on its way over, too!

Though Qrow initially felt his scroll buzz in the car, he’s unable to look at it until now. He sees Clover’s text in between the tons of congratulations messages, and smiles.

He’s such a dork.

But he’s Qrow’s dork.

Qrow: You know it. ;) See you soon.

Far too much time is spent for either of their taste’s getting into their suits and going over their entrances and everything (Though given how their rehearsal went, neither can be too annoyed).

Both meet their respective halves of the wedding party and soon enough...it’s time.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Robyn’s the first to enter. She has a basic script in her hand, but everyone knows she’s gonna do some ad-libbing and are excited for it.

Qrow walks down the aisle first with Ruby. The whole time, he can’t but hold his breath behind his smile, worried he might trip. Ruby, who can now fully tell how her uncle operates, holds his arm tighter and more supportively. Qrow would be lying if he said it didn’t help. Upon reaching the front, Ruby gives Qrow a big hug and a kiss on the cheek before leaving his side.

After he arrives, the two sets of groomsmen enter side-by-side: Marrow and Tai, Elm and Port, Vine and Oobleck, and Harriet and Theodore (Yeah, I know basically nothing about Theodore, but I realized my numbers for Qrow’s groomsmen didn’t add up to Clover’s, and I hear the two of them got along, so we’re doing this!).

Once they’re in position, Clover enters with Yang. Clover, like Yang, holds his breath, but for a different reason. Qrow looks so impossibly good in his suit, and he can tell Qrow really likes how he looks, too. Like Ruby with Qrow, before leaving to join her sister, Yang gives Clover a hug and cheek kiss, but also a nice pat on the shoulder and a wish for “good luck.” Clover loves the sensation.

Clover whispers under his breath that Qrow looks amazing. Qrow thanks him, throwing a wink at Clover. Clover looks as stunned by it as Qrow did when he did it the first time.

Ceremony stuff happens, and then we get to the vows!

Robyn signals for Qrow to go first. He nods at her and begins.

“Clover,” Qrow says. “I want to say something to you, something that I never thought I would, especially here of all places, but something that feels like it should be said all the same. ...Here it goes. Clover, we don’t have to get married.”

There’s a pause as everyone watching gasps. Clover is the only one who doesn’t, though he does raise and eyebrow. Qrow maintains eye contact with him and continues.

“It’s true,” he says. “We know we’re going to be together for the rest of our lives. I’m not leaving you, you’re not leaving me, and once this is all over, we’re going to go right back to the same home we’ve spent years building together to build even more of it for as long as we can. We’ll get up, make breakfast and coffee, work, come home, watch TV, and go to bed. Maybe we’ll do different things on the weekends with Tai and the kids, or maybe we’ll just relax on the couch with a movie. So no, we don’t need to get married...but that’s exactly why I want to.”

The sighs of relief are close to deafening, and expecting that, Qrow takes another pause. Clover’s smile is beautiful, not beaming of exceedingly large, but radiant as it has ever been. Qrow hopes that whoever their planner organized to record their wedding captures it because it’s a smiles Qrow imagines he’ll want to look at over and over again.

“It’s exactly because we don’t need to throw a ceremony or a big party to show the world we love each other that makes me want to do just that,” Qrow continues. “A love like what we have, one that’s special because of all the things that don’t make it special just as much as all of the things that do, well to me, that’s a love worth celebrating. I love you, Clover, and I love the fact that being here with you gives me another chance to celebrate how we feel, how far we’ve come, and how much further we’ll go.”

There are tears in the corners of Clover’s eyes threatening to fall any second. Qrow feels that his own are on the verge of doing the same.

Clover pull him in for a hug. They know it’s not what they’re supposed to do, but it feels right and that’s all that matters. It lasts for ten seconds before they finally pull back.

Robyn’s looking at them jokingly.

“You know you’re not supposed to do that yet, right?”

“Eh,” Qrow says, shrugging with a smirk on his face. “We’re unconventional.”

“Except when we’re not,” Clover chimes in, winking at Qrow over the joke.

Robyn, smiling all the while, rolls her eyes.

“Clover, it’s your turn,” she says. The two exchange nods and then Clover turns to Qrow.

“Qrow,” he starts, “I definitely saw my life differently before I met you. I was an Atlesian Military Captain of the kingdom’s strongest group of Huntsmen, likely to stay just where I was until I retired or died in combat. That’s what I saw for myself, and that’s all I saw for myself. In that life, I didn’t see a home, I didn’t see a family, and I never saw someone I loved so much that I’d leave everything I thought I knew behind just to stand by his side. But once I met you and the kids, I began to see all sorts of things that I’d never considered for myself before -- all of those things I just listed and more. That’s the life we’ve had together so far -- deep, kind, strange, fun, sometimes a bit mundane but also beautiful because of it. I’ve got to tell you, Qrow, I can’t think of anything luckier happening to me in my entire life than finding you.”

Qrow snorts. It’s not an interruption, but Clover can’t help but comment on it.

“I guess you saw that coming?” Clover jokes.

“Maybe a bit.”

“Fair enough. Well, I don’t need to tell you that with semblances like ours, luck’s always been a special thing between us. Misfortune and Good Fortune just have a way of being part of our lives, no matter what we think or plan or want. We’ve talked before about how they counter each other or why one might be more powerful than the other on any given day, but while luck might have been what brought us together as partners initially and it certainly is part of us, it’s not all of us. Luck has some interesting perks, both good and bad alike -- it can make a day or even week better or worse -- but it can’t get either of us what we have together nor take it away. Luck doesn’t earn me the sight of that gleam in your eyes when I bring you a bowl of noodles just the way you like or that smile of yours when I tell you tell you a joke. Luck helps us live our lives, but we do the rest, and I think we do a pretty good job living it together, and I can’t wait to keep on doing it with you for the rest of our lives.”

A good number of the attendants make an “awwww” sound at the end of Clover’s vows. Qrow’s tempted to make fun of it, but abstains.

Robyn nods at the conclusion of her vows. Tai and Marrow collect the rings for Qrow and Clover from off of the weapons and bring them to them. Robyn then turns to Clover.

“Clover Ebi,” she says. “Do you take this man, Qrow Branwen, to be your lawfully-wedded husband -- to love, cherish, and grow with him in sickness and in health and for better or worse as long as you both shall live?”

Clover’s smile is present. It doesn’t get bigger, but it gets deeper.

“I do,” he says. Qrow takes Clover’s ring and slides it easily onto Clover’s finger.

Robyn turns to Qrow.

“And Qrow Branwen,” she continues. “Do you take this man, Clover Ebi, to be your lawfully-wedded husband -- to love, cherish, and grow with him in sickness and in health and for better or worse as long as you both shall live?”

Qrow’s smile stays the same -- relaxed, easy, and so utterly content. Despite seeing it hundreds of times by now, it still looks so beautiful to Clover...especially when he says the next two words.

“I do.”

Qrow extends out his hand, and Clover, with the ring he got him, slides it down Qrow’s flawless finger effortlessly.

Robyn’s smile grows.

“Then by the power vested in me by the Kingdom of Solitas and the land of Remnant, I now declare you husbands. You may now kiss.”

Qrow and Clover have kissed more times than they can possibly count.

But by the time Robyn declares them married, they’re starving to feel each other’s kisses again. Cupping each other’s cheeks, Qrow and Clover share their first kiss as a married couple.

Everyone cheers. A quarter of the room cheers through their tears.

Finally, they’re married.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Qrow and Clover get a small break to themselves before they enter the reception. They spend much of it standing and sitting close together, kissing, telling the Qrow and Clover equivalent of sweet nothings to each other, and talking about what their previous night and this morning were like. It’s kind, relaxed, and happy -- so, so happy.

The reception’s amazing. Between awesome food, “the world’s best cocktail hour” (Qrow and Clover’s words, not mine), a good DJ, heartwarming (and a little embarrassing) speeches, gorgeous decorations, cool party favors, and a beautiful and loving first dance, everyone has an amazing time.

At some point, Qrow and Clover find themselves able to sneak out of their own reception for a break (Qrow especially needs one, but Clover’s not about to pretend he’s not at least a little tired either). There’s a small empty balcony right in front of the moon. Clover loops his arm around Qrow’s shoulders and settles it on the left one.

Clover takes a deep breath through his nose and Qrow can feel his hairs bounce up and down with it.

“Smell something you like?” Qrow teases.

“More like someone. And I can’t wait to keep smelling him.”

They relax in the quiet for a bit. Qrow snuggles into Clover’s side as the gentle wind embraces their forms wherever it can.

“We’re married,” Clover finally says, said as if he’s just realized it for the first time.

It must be the tenth time today he’s done so since the ceremony.

Qrow hasn’t gotten even remotely sick of hearing it.

“We’re married,” he repeats.

Clover releases a rumbling chuckle, then kisses Qrow’s upper right temple. Qrow presses his lips to Clover’s hand. It’s not a kiss, per se, but it lingers delicately on his hand.

They stay for a couple more minutes before deciding that they should probably return to their party.

The rest of the party is so nice. Friends and family party and dance the night away with the gorgeous night sky all around them for hours.

The cleanup is exhausting and despite loving their wedding planner from the moment they hired her, Qrow and Clover have never been more grateful for her services than where she says they can head out and that she would finish up the rest of the work and text them (”Tomorrow afternoon. You guys are gonna need some shut eye.”).

It takes Qrow and Clover about an hour to get home. Clover drives once they’re on solid ground again. In the car, neither talk much, content to sit and enjoy the drive home in a comfortable quiet, save for the occasional joke and “We’re married” statement.

When they’re finally home, they stop at the door. After all, who’s going to carry who over the threshold?

They compromise. Kissing each other’s face all the way, Qrow carries Clover through their front door, and Clover carries Qrow through their bedroom door onto a...very fun wedding night (Which I’m gonna let you all imagine for yourself because I have literally been writing this all day and writing about sex is kind of tough for me when I’m at my best).

When they’re at last ready to go to sleep, Qrow and Clover cuddle close and give each other a final loving look before falling asleep in each other’s arms, blissfully together tonight and for decades worth of them to come, just as they deserve. I don’t even know what to say now that we’re here at the end. I think I said it here earlier, but it bears repeating: I love you all and thank you so much for following these Fair Game HCs.

Tagging @skybird13 @whipped4qrow @mooksie01 @luck-of-the-caw @xwildangel @solitude-of-stars-deactivated20 @vastnessofthespiral @o0nashipear0o @unfairgamey @doctorrwby @clover-and-co @megan-atthedisco @wash-my-brain @bisexualdisasterqrow @thursdayseraph @doubledexterity @rwby-things-i-guess @atlas-heartthrob @the-answer-was-bi-klance @compoterie @thuskindlyiboop @oceansquid @transdemion @deltastream21 @mimiori @xya-hunter @dinosaurs-last-day @roman-torchtwink @subatomictealeaves @drbtinglecannon @saphiralunaris @pretentiouskneecaps @amxngsthxmans @ayomez13 @carbonated-table-spices @darkestsiren @chaosgameingkoi @collectingsparechangemadeeasy @michaels-daughter2005 @youmaywanttoduck @lovethewitchofendor @victorious1956 @spence0112 @madamoisellesica @ju-ka-mc-24

Want to be tagged in future Fair Game HC’s (Or untagged, I understand) and be the first to catch all of the romance, fluff, drama, and puns (Sometimes all at the same time)? Send me a reply, PM, or ask, and it shall be done!

Would you also like to check out my old Fair Game HC’s? Who wouldn’t? Well, here’s a link to my Fair Game HC archives!!!!

#fair game #qrow branwen #clover ebi #rwby #lucky charms #luckbirds #luck birds #fairgame #qrow x clover #qrover #fair game hcs #500

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jasdiary · 3 years

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Heartslabyul Playing Genshin Impact

i am simply bored and made this while realizing how many mushrooms i have in my inventory. Only doing Heartslabyul for this one but i’ll probably make the other dorms and then link them 👀

Riddle Rosehearts:

- Cater probably introduced him to Genshin and was like “fine 🙄 i’ll test it out just to humor you.” and we know how that went.

- He thought the game was so pretty and he had a lot of space on his phone for it since he’s rarely on his phone therefore not having many apps.

- His favorite thing to do is just walk around and look at the scenery,preferably in Mondstadt. Riddle also likes to collect every sparkly thing he sees so he has like,,,1,000 of everything,,,,

- Refuses to spend money on this game and just saves for characters that interest him. pretty average luck when pulling 5 stars.

- Riddle is a Klee main and i live by that. He likes to set Ace’s world on fire.

Trey Clover:

- Cater doing his work again per usual,but this time he had some help from Riddle.

- He was hesitant about it but eventually gave in when he saw Riddle playing it. Was surprised when he saw that it was a free mobile game.grandpa

- Trey is super duper interested in the story and lore of Genshin. He’s also a loser who helps Reckless Pallad whenever he’s near.🤢

- Another one who doesn’t spend money. He’s a primogem hoarder and has insane rng luck. i hate him.

- As much as i bully Trey, he’s a valid Sucrose main. 10/10 co-op buddy.

Cater Diamond:

- Cater played the beta and started playing Genshin on day 1! He tries to get others to play so he can have friends because he’s really awkward during co-op.

- He sometimes posts things he finds ingame for others and let’s them know when there’s a new redeemable code. We love Cater in this household.

- He loves the characters!! He could care less about how much damage they deal so if he likes their aesthetic,he’s pulling for them.

-We all know Cater is a popular influencer so this man definitely has some bank. Wouldn’t call him a whale tho,he’s pretty responsible with how much he spends.

- Cater’s best subject is Astrology so i classify him as a Mona main. oh to be like Cater 😔

Ace Trappola:

- Started playing just so that he could join Deuces world and steal his resources. He’s petty like that.

- In all honestly, he really thinks the game is cool. Ace was probably one of those people who missed everything until someone told them.☠️ anemoculus and geoculus are his worst enemies

- He likes to obliterate every enemy he sees. It doesn’t always end well.

- Spends way more than he should, and he wonders why he’s always broke. He hits pity every time he pulls ☠️☠️

- Ace is a Childe main,i don’t make the rules.

Deuce Spade:

- I wanted to play co-op with him JWBDKSB no but he played not long after Cater did.

- Literally screenshots parts from every cutscenes, he thinks the game is so pretty. LITERALLY CRIES WHENEVER THEY MENTION AETHER(he plays Lumine 😌)

- So,,,,Deuce likes to be chased by enemies???? he likes to run away from them and have them chase him like a bunch of little idiots

- Rarely ever spends money,if not only on the battle pass and welkin moon. he wishes too much someone tell him to save up 😭

- Now hear me out...Razor main. Listens to his voice lines for validation and just really likes claymore users.

I wrote nearly all of this at like,,,5 am. Good luck with Xiao and Keqing everyone!

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #riddle rosehearts #trey clover #cater diamond #ace trappola #deuce spade #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #DOES THAT COUNT???#IDK #also my writing account is D E A D so if i have any righting ideas i’ll just put them on this blog #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 3 years

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tuesday again 8/10/21

got a bunch of followers (many of you are Cool Teens, so also a reminder im 26 and an adult and you’re responsible for curating your own internet experience) anyway there’s a bunch of new folks since the last time this was a regular series, so i am going to pre-answer some things that popped up in my inbox last week.

a quick reminder that this is empathetically NOT a recommendations or review blog series. this is a quick snapshot of what i’m thinking about with regards to mass media this week, and sometimes i’m funny about it and sometimes i also do interesting diy shit

a work can be culturally or historically relevant and important in the history of a genre AND be extremely difficult to recommend unless i know you very well due to. hm. let us say many pitfalls due to the inherent nature of the genre or the time it was made in it any number of other factors that make it unpalatable to modern audiences but still worth knowing about. doesthedogdie dot com will be your friend here for anything i talk about ever

being critical of a work doesn’t just mean pointing out its flaws- was it successful in telling the story it wanted to tell? were the techniques it used effective? were the emotions it elicited in me probably the ones the creators set out to elicit? these are key components of a good review and often help me break down what i want to say about a particular piece of media in any given week, but this isn’t a review series of blog posts either.

i am literally just some guy and you should question everything i say

listening i’m gonna wash that man right out of my hair (from the musical South Pacific) brought to you by a random mix of classic movie musicals bc apparently im that kinda gay this week.

like a lot of other fifties media that aged like milk, i have fond memories of watching this with my grandmother. this isn’t even my favorite song from the musical (that would be bali hai’i) but i think it is one of the more technically interesting non-solo ones. specifically, the faint siren-y dissonance on “ahoy, ahoy!” has really been stuck in my head. the melancholy “ah fuck we’ve broken our hearts again” vibe on “rub him out of the roll call/and drum him out of your dreams” with all the girls singing is probably a result of a soprano-heavy cast, but it’s almost chimey in a way? the rhyme scheme of those lines has an excellent mouthfeel. ms gaynor singing “cancel hiiiiiim” has a very different vibe in 2021

two (really three? maybe four? the world is large and mysterious) things can be true at the same time: i don’t think i could watch this musical again as an adult because i don’t think there’s a good way to salvage or update it. the very qualities of this musical that make me go “fuckin yikes” as adult were the very qualities that made my grandmother love it so much. i can hold a bittersweet memory of a rare late movie night with a complicated lady and at the same time wish she were a better person. the dead never leave you with answers.

reading yet another fallow week. this field is turning back into forest

watching i often say “AAA video game (derogatory)” when talking offline about the bad batc/h, but this was a real bioshock ass lookin episode. i don’t think this show is succesful at making or having a point. mostly because it cannot contradict any existing lore in one of the most traversed time periods of this franchise, even with the expanded universe reboot. it falls into the uncomfortable realm of most starred wars media: this is a franchise for children but it also has to cater to legions of grownup fanatics with lots of money. but by god does it “feel” like starred wars. something not all the sequel trilogy movies or much of the clone wars series were successful at.

as a sidebar to that last sentence. the most memorable (imo) scene of the fucking sequel trilogy is the back-to-back battle couple thing in ep seven, which i have just rewatched, and it simply does not hold up. there are too many cuts to other sideplots, which kills any tension dead, and it’s mostly fighting on opposite sides of the room in frantic desperation instead of what i wanted, which was more than five seconds of synergy. it’s a bad rhyme of the final throne room fight in rotj and my memory of the thing is so much better, which is always disappointing.

back to the main point, i think a big part of something “feeling” like starred wars is big setpieces and fights that make you go “HAHA YES FUCKIN SICK WHY NOT!!!!” like, nobody ever Just gets shot in the head and temporarily incapacitated, they get half-vadered by the engines of a derelict ship trying to go to hyperspace while it’s grounded. this franchise has never met a location it couldn’t destroy in a beautiful and awful shower of light while the string sections of three combined orchestras play their hearts out.

this franchise is so fucking stupid and i am so invested in it

playing got my hands on the death trash early access, very hype to play it, have been too busy turning this apartment into a functional and comfortable space to live in for three separate people with their own separate toiletries and groceries and work from home/school schedules

making related to the above, the fucking kitchen table and chairs are done.

things wot i did friday night/saturday morning:

new rubber feeties on everybody

wrapped the legs that structurally couldn’t get new rubber feeties in jute to be kinder to my rental linoleum

bolted the legs back on the table and rebalanced it bc the jute wasn’t quite even

did a very halfassed job of fixing the drawer rails on the table

bolted the chair tubing back together

took all the old decorative tacks out of the backs of the chairs

scrubbed the seats and backs and the pieces the tacks were holding down with mild detergent (partially effective, it still has some patina but is sanitized)

re-covered the bottoms of the chairs in remnant black polyester to replace mildewed black canvas

put in new decorative tacks on the seat backs

bolted the vinyl parts to the chrome tubing parts (a long and frustrating process since there were two sizes of decidedly non-standard nuts and bolts)

wiped everything down again for idk good luck

sitting at my kitchen table in the sun eating a breakfast sandwich and some terrible iced tea on sunday morning was very nice. i lived in the south just long enough to get Opinions on iced tea and how the north can’t get it right. shouldn’t be gritty. shouldn’t be bitter. how is this even happening

some very very halfassed “during” pics

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem #Spotify

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maximumjinx · 4 years

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Been reading a lot of salt. So here’s some I wanted to see in a fic.

_____________________________________________

~Ladybug’s Finale~

Marinette counted to 10, for the fourth time today.

“It’s a chronic thing girl, it would be best to just keep the seating this way anyways!” Alya explained as the seating was arranged so that she sat in the back row. Again.

Without her knowledge or permission.

Again.

Lila smiled sweetly, sat closely to Adrien who looked mildly uncomfortable as he shot his classmate an apologetic look. Marinette wasn’t even jealous as much as she was annoyed that the class has decided to protect and cater to Lila without resistance or question. Lila explained her hearing problem had flared up again, but this time Marinette only remained silent.

Nothing had exactly been the same since the class first turned on her. The heroine knew she had to treat Lila like a constant akuma, patiently observing for the right time to strike. It also helped to smother the hurt she felt from her best friend abandoning her at lunch, and their after school plans, and their paired project.

Marinette decided to pour herself into her job instead.

Down came the shrine to Adrien and his modeling, instead she would dedicate her spare time to finding Hawkmoth and ending his terrorizing once and for all.

The class went to the movies and held a group picnic, without any invitation or notice to the class president. Alya claimed that Lila (who was in charge of invitations) simply texted the wrong number. Lila’s curled smile told a different story. Marinette blew a breath, rolled her eyes, and assured Alya she was fine, she was able to not only catch up on her schoolwork, but complete her work for the rest of the semester.

Marinette won the two design contests she had entered a month later. None of her friends could attend the first award ceremony, as Lila had just broken up with her secret American singer boyfriend, and she needed their support. Marinette didn’t mention her second award. Or any she won afterwards.

Alya began to post Lila’s ‘encounters’ with Ladybug and stories to the Ladyblog as prime sources of information. She couldn’t figure out why Ladybug wouldn’t stop for an interview anymore.

Chat Noir rarely saw his Lady anymore, since she patrolled frequently while he was attending his extra circulars and modeling. Even after an akuma, she would give him a sad smile, a weak fist bump, and flee before she detransformed. The akumas were defeated with ease now, as Ladybug had surprised Chat with not only new moves, but new weapons as well. Marinette had been attending extra training with Master Fu and earned new powers after all.

Her cork board was covered in red string, sighting of Hawkmoth, crossed out suspects and more. Marinette was frustrated, but getting closer with each day.

“Marinette why don’t you take a break? See if Alya wants to come over or maybe hang out in the park to watch Adrien’s shoot!” Tikki suggested, trying to cover her worry with a bouncy attitude.

“Alya hasn’t texted me in months Tikki, let alone ask to hang out.” Marinette mumbled, still deep in thought as she examined her board.

Tikki faltered, but refused to give up.

“Why don’t you patrol with Chat for a change! You both haven’t really connected in a while.”

“It’s better that way. He’s flirting with me less and less and we’re both more focused on Akumas.”

“But Marinett-“

“What, Tikki?!” Marinette whipped around to face her kwami. Her eyes were glossy, angry and hurt.

“Nobody likes me! They don’t want anything to do with me! I may as well be the same as I was before Ladybug.” Marinette didn’t cry, but pulled a pained smile instead. “They don’t check up on me. They don’t care.”

The goddess of creation was at a loss for words. She looked warily for an akuma, but nothing appeared. Marinette took a deep breath, and felt the tips of her fingers go cold again. Her chest ached, but it was duller now.

“No akuma, you don’t have to worry.” Marinette half heartedly closed her investigation board, grabbing a black sweater on her way out the door. “We’re late to meet Master Fu.”

___

“You’ve unlocked the staff I see.” Fu noted, as Marinette began basic forms. “The last Ladybug to unlock that was considered very strong. And unforgiving.”

Marinette only hummed in response. She liked the staff, it reminded her of her brief moment as Lady Noire. Chat and her had so much fun that day.

“Master?” She strutted forward, bow extended. “Why don’t you train Chat like you train me?”

Master Fu was silent for a moment, Wayzz watching warily.

“That boy has enough on his plate without extra training added.”

Marinette wanted to protest that she was busy as well, but remembered her new free time.

“Besides, since I lost the Butterfly and Peacock miraculous when the Temple was destroyed, I decided it be better to only let you see where the miracle box is truly hidden.”

The staff stilled. Tikki looked at her chosen with piqued interest.

“Marinette?” The kwami tried.

“You lost the miraculouses with the temple.” Marinette parroted.

Master Fu tilted his head. “Yes.”

“Master, where did you lose the Miraculous book?”

“I lost everything that day, when the temple-“ Master Fu froze, looking at Marinette with wide eyes. She hadn’t dropped her bow yet.

“Fu, you geezer.” He chastied himself, “Marinette the book! Whoever had the book-“

Marinette dropped the bow, a loud vebrato echoinf around the room. She looked to Tikki with an unreadable expression.

“Looks like my chances with Adrien really are ruined.”

...

“Marinette wait- we still don’t know the full story!” Tikki yelled, from inside Marinette’s bag. But the blunette was already racing home, feet literally pounding the pavement.

How didn’t she see it before? She had crossed out most of the Agreste household, but if she could make is so that Ladybug and Marinette were in the same place, couldn’t they do so as well? Adrien isn’t Hawkmoth, she knew that much. Whichever side he took on Lila’s lies didn’t make him a villain, if he decided not to interfere or shake the boat, those are his own issues to work out.

Gabriel Agreste. The elusive, fashion designer. With an assistant that knows his every move in and out of a potential suit, his very own Mayura. He had the resources to go to Tibet, he had the book in his possesion, and if he himself wasn’t hawkmoth, he at least knew more about the villain than he let on.

“Tikki, spots on!” Marinette hissed, suddenly taking a sharp turn into an alley. A new fire was burning under the heroine. She would need Chat to take down Hawkmoth, she may need all the heroes. Tikki wrapped around her, without any flashes or spectacular poses.

Ladybug immediately took to the roofs. A call to Chat should be able to at least transfer to his kwami, even untransformed. She admits she hasn’t been as close to Chat lately, with everything around her she doesn’t feel like getting close. The people she believed were her close friends were quick to turn around and leave her behind. The boy she loved wasn’t what she built him up to be, this was her own fault, she knew that.

But Chat, he was the partner Fu chose, he took things less seriously than he should, and Marinette believed it was because she had let him for too long. She liked the banter they had back and forth, liked being able to talk to someone without worrying about what they thought about Marinette. She was a spaz, she was late, she was disorganized, and she was cowardly. But that was different now, she had to grow up. So she did.

Now wasn’t the time for anymore games.

“Kid, Ladybug is trying to contact you.”

Plagg was resting on Adrien’s pillow as his chose sat at the desk, practicing his Mandarin. Plagg has been around for eons, and knew every language there is to know, even the dead ones. He had lived through them after all. The kwami was correcting Adrien on his pronounciation.

His chosen jumped up, eyes wide.

“She is?”

“Wait- don’t get too excited it might be-”, Plagg couldn’t finish, suddenly transforming Adrien in a rush. Damn it, he hated when his kittens didn’t let him speak.

Chat Noir on the other hand, was estatic.

“I should get her flowers, we haven’t had any time to hang out. She hasn’t been looking like herself lately.”

It was true, Ladybug had gotten a few upgrades on her suit, but even Chat had noticed how much black had bled into the classic polka dot design. He wasn’t too worried, he himself was covered in the color. But the black was now covering her legs to her thigh, her chest and upper back was now covered in a thin but incredibly strong black armored plate. She had a hood now too, entirely red that she kept loose for the most part, but he had seen up and around her face during nightly patrols. Lastly, she now had a belt, to hold her yoyo and what he guessed a bag full of special transformations for her kwami.

The change was gradual, new things here and there, but startling all the same.

Chat decided to skip the flowers. As much as he loved Ladybug, he knew lately she wasn’t responding to his advances. There was a part of him that wanted to be bitter and try harder, but after weeks of having Lila forcibly hanging on his arm, he could guess why Ladybug wanted the space. He was still dealing with taking the distance as a place to let them both breathe, and not as a form of rejection.

He arrived to his Lady’s location, and noticed her hood was up. He suddenly felt uneasy. The sun was only setting, so why have it up now?

“Hey there Bug-“ he wanted so badly to finish it with ‘-aboo’, but pushed it back.

She turned around to face him, and he saw a new change. Her mask had turned into a visor, the black dots still in place, and bending around her nose like glasses. It looked more efficient at protecting her eyes than the last mask. Also, her hair was loose. It was tucked into her hood, with small pieces framing her face and resting on her shoulders.

She wasn’t smiling, but looked worried.

“Ladybug?” Chat felt uneasy with the look on her face.

Ladybug steeled herself, “I think I know who Hawkmoth is and we need a plan.”

Chat looked alarmed.

“You figured it out? What are we waiting for!”

“Wait Chat,” Ladybug placed an hand on his shoulder, “we could need the other miraculous holders. And we need to look more into the suspect. I might have a way in with my civilian identity but we need to do this carefully.”

Chat faltered. His lady would never risk her personal identity, he’s mentioned before she has too many loved ones to protect. Has that somehow changed?

“Can you at least tell me who it is?”

Ladybug looked at Chat carefully, and sighed.

“The guardian and I were talking when I realized it.” Chat tried not to let her regular meetings with Fu sting, “Master Fu lost the peacock and butterfly miraculous back at the temple in tibet. He also lost several artifacts from his temple, and the book of miraculous.”

Chat could feel breath begin to come out shallow, heart racing in his chest.

“So whoever found the book, must have found the miraculous.” He finished. “Gabriel Agreste is Hawkmoth.”

“Or Gabriel Agreste somehow got the book from Hawkmoth.” Ladybug wasn’t sure about that theory, but she couldn’t accuse him without better proof again.

Chat Noir disagreed. He found the book with a few belongings of his mother, and a map of Tibet. His father was never the same after his mom disappeared. A thought occured to him.

His eyes widened, “Mayura-“

“Might be Gabriel’s assistant Nathalie Sancouer, yes.” Ladybug didn’t appear angry or determined to track these two down. Instead it looked like it pained her to realize the truth. Perhaps she was mimicking Chat’s own emotions.

Chat looked at his Lady. Obviously she had been going through a few things. Bad things. And if she was willing to risk her identity when unknowning there was a better candidate for undercover work beside her, Chat knew she could trust her with his identity. He always knew that.

“Ladybug, I know it’s important to keep our identites a secret, and I’m not sure how you would even try to investigate out of the suit, but you have to know something first.” Chat took a step back.

“What are you-“

“You don’t have to reveal yourself to me. I know how important your own identity is to you. But there’s an easier way to get to Agreste.” He took a deep breath. “We have to use Adrien.”

Ladybug’s face shifted to disbelief, then to anger.

“We won’t put a civilian in danger! And he didn’t handle the Snake miraculous well, we would be sending him in without any protection!” She barked.

Chat smiled humorlessly.

“I think he can handle himself.” He was risking everything. But with everything his father might have done, it was his job to make it right. “Claws in.”

He heard his partner shriek, and quickly cover her eyes.

“Chat now is not the time! What makes you think your civilian identity can get closer to Adrien or Gabriel than mine?”

“Because I live under the same roof.” Adrien thought for a moment. “And I’m not Gorilla- in case you had any doubts.”

Ladybug’s mouth dropped, hand trembling over her eyes. She didn’t want to look.

“Adrien?” She asked shakily, still unable to remove her palm. She felt long fingers carefully wrap around her own, and gently pry her hand away.

Adrien Agreste stood on a roof in pajama pants and a hoodie, hair messed up from the wind, and a sheepish smile on his face.

“Hey LB.”

—-

#miraculous ladybug #chat noir #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #fic #ml salt #alya salt #lila salt #lila rossi #hawkmoth #ladynoir #adrienette #marichat #ladrien #tikki #plagg #writing

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “Eating Everything.”

I am working my way through the list of suggestions that you guys left me, so this is the first installment from a Anon ask. I don’t know if this is what you wanted to read or where expecting to read, but this is what I came up with.

Intergalactic Journal of Biology and Medicine

Humans have one of the most resilient digestive tracts in the known universe. As an Omnivorous predatory species, humans are capable of digesting muscle , fat, carbohydrates (simple and complex), proteins and fibers taking many nutrients and extreme energy from them. Their use of carbs gives us an explanation as to why humans are so powerful because they require a lot of energy to use their bodies. Additionally, the stomach acid of a human is capable of digesting, non-food items though no nutrients can be pulled from it.

Generally speaking, the rule is that if you can eat it, a human can eat it, though, whether it is to their taste or not is questionable.

Furthermore, the human body reactivly ejects toxic substances once detected, so within reason, humans are capable of trying many foods without the negative consequences many of us would associate with sticking foreign substances in our mouth.

There GA intergalactic summit was held, on what was Earth time, November 5th, 4022. All members of the GA council were expected to attend, or at least a representative for every species in the known universe. At this time that would include the Rundi, Gibb, Tesraki, Bran, Vrul, Drev, etc. but worst of all, the humans.

The Rundi steward, a class of government official who was specifically tasked with dealing with the drudgery of bureaucracy, was not pleased in the slightest. It was primarily his job to put everything together, and depending on how well he did, it could either make or break him in social hierarchy of his species. The Rundi were a primarily governmental planet, everything they did was based upon a structure of hierarchy and rule. Government was the greatest form of service, and Anarchy wasn’t even an afterthought in philosophical debate. The rundi were not capable of anarchy.

It was a planet of politicians in some form or another, every interaction had political underleanings, and their speech was always heavily guarded. For this reason, the Rundi had been the first in suggesting an intergalactic system of government. The terasaki had agreed only upon realizing they would be tasked with overseeing economics, but had benefited from the Rundi system of government seeing as they tended a bit towards social anarchy, a thought that the Rundi had seen as horribly barbaric, especially since their system was based primarily on the equal distribution of goods to support government structure.

The Vrul had only agreed to join based on their own personal interest in survival. Generally they wanted nothing to do with intergalactic politics and would have been happy to maintain their own peaceful homeworld, but the introduction of other species into the galaxy had offered a great threat to them, and they had decided, out of necessity, to join the GA as being friends with the other species was in their own self interest. In turn that had meant sending their very, very skilled workers to help the rest of the galaxy, and that included their scientists and their doctors, and their mechanics.

And then of course there was the issue of the Drev and the humans, both scarily similar in social hierarchy and temperament. The Drev were warlike and honor bound, but once choosing a leader, they had been surprisingly willing to join in as long as they were given the opportunity to participate in any and all armed conflict that happened to take place across the galaxy.

The humans….. The humans were another story. There was no one characteristic that helped to identify their motivations. The humans themselves were well versed in war, politics, economics, and science, but they did everything to the extreme. Where the Drev practiced war for honor,when humans waged war, they did it to kill, while the Rundi maintained government and played games within their own circles, the humans played against each other often mixing war and government into one. Their economic practices varied widely, but their current system played for keeps and focused on the greatest accumulation of wealth possible far beyond what the Tesraki did. Then when it came to science, they never considered WHETHER they should do something, but only if they COULD do something.

And now here the steward was forced into the position of setting up this summit for all the different types of species. The catering alone had been a complete nightmare, and he had been forced to ship different sorts of food for thousands of miles in order to feed everyone in the proper manner. There were some species he did not have to worry about, like the Vrul, who were more plant based and so did not eat, but there were others, and that included the rundi and the Tesraki, who had every strict diet consisting of only very specific foods to eat. He found that he could tack the Drev onto some other species, seeing as their bodies were capable of metabolizing almost any plant as long as it retained a similar structure to human plants and fruit.

However, the humans themselves were the hardest part, because the range of food was so wide, he could hardly determine what was going to work and what was going to be a massive disaster. He honestly didn’t know, different sources said different things, and he couldn't bare to think about putting MEAT on the table…. That was just against his constitutions.

In fact, he was scrambling right up until the council had convened for the evening, and the mass tide of bodies came pouring into the room filling the vaulted ceiling with rockus chatter in dozens of different languages.

He could hear the humans coming a mile off.

The humans and the Rundi had a similar register when it came to hearing, and humans were known to be able to mimic Rundi vocalizations to some degree simply because they generally tended to communicate in deep grunts, hums and guttural vocalizations. The humans, wlel their language was just as varied as their culture clicking, hissing, snapping, humming and grunting filling the air with discordant and somehow, rhythmic quality..

Their presence turned heads.

They walked with the Drev delegation, which was no surprise to anyone. The humans had been unable to send their usual representative due to a social disagreement between earth and its neighboring sister, Mars. So who had they gone and sent….

Them….

The rundi Steward knew all about them….. Crewmembers of the UNSC Harbinger, the widest ranging vessel in the entire galaxy, and home to a crew that was indisputably certifiable. They were the most reckless, most dangerous, and most terrifying amalgamation of creatures in the galaxy somehow including one Drev, and a rather out of place Vrul whose behavior suggested he had caught whatever brain malady had overcome the humans, and was just as insane as they were.

He cringed horrifically at the sight of them.. Humans were a destructive force, and were known to cause chaos and mayhem wherever they went, even at the best of times, so this was bound to get interesting.

The delegates were seated, and the Steward welcomed them with gracious words of introduction he had spent months preparing. It was a very political thing for him to do, and included subtle compliments to all delegations involved, laid down some ground rules but made sure not to undermine the authority of the people he was speaking too..

However, to the humans, the attempt was obviously heavy handed brown nosing, though none of the other delegations seemed to notice.

He invited them in for refreshments and encouraged discussion between the parties.

Of course, the humans weren’t exactly ones to pass up the idea of food and were some of the first to the table examining the contents with great interest even the food that was not theirs. They seemed very amused watching the other delegations pick up their specific food and then move away to sit.

“What is this.” one of the humans commented holding up a rather stringy green tube that wriggled and squirmed in his hand, “Are these worms?”

One of the Tesraki looked over, “No, it’s a Cavestalk, a kind of plant. Probably not to your taste, they are known to be poisonous to other species. In other words, not human food.”

The human raised an eyebrow, “Buddy, humans are the sharks….. Or wait…. Maybe that's the goats of the universe, we can eat anything within reason, and even a couple of things outside of reason if given enough time.”

The Tesraki made a sort of shrug and wave with its large ears and then walked away. The steward watched the humans with a worried expression. It wouldn’t due to allow the humans to make themselves sick on his watch, but it seemed as if that idea was only becoming more and more likely as the humans poked and prodded at the leftovers of other species hardly bothering with the food that had been laid out for them…. Mostly strange fibrous plant materials.

And that is when it came, “I dare you to eat it.”

The two humans locked eyes, one still holding the wriggling Cavestalk, “What.”

“I said, I dare you to eat it.” The human stuck out his chin at the other human in a primitive position of posturing, “How much do I get if I do.”

There was a moment of thought before, “Twenty credits. I’ll give you twenty credits to eat it.”

“What happens if it poisons me?”

There was a hand wave, “We have a doctor on board, he can just pump your stomach…. Chicken.”

A moment of silence passed between them, and the Rundi steward began moving towards them to stop something horrible he felt was about to happen. He wasn’t fast enough, and before he knew it, the human had thrown back his head and dropped the wriggly green thing into his mouth swallowing it whole like an alligator or a snake.

People around looked on in somewhat fascinated disgust as the predator’s throat bobbed and he smacked his lips making a face, “Eh, I can still feel it moving…. Eh.” He paused, “Though, taste wise it isn’t so bad kind of like a wiggly asparagus.” After a moment his eyes narrowed, and he smacked his lips again, “Spicy asparagus, uh, that’s really really weird.”

He reached the table just as the Vrul came running up shoulders squared in a very un-vrul way, “HE LITERALLY JUST SAID IT WAS POISONOUS TO OTHER SPECIES, AND NOW YOU’RE EATING IT! AND YOU OVER THERE.” A human looked up at him from where it had been prodding the Drev coiltree berries, “GET THOSE OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!”

They had attracted the attention of some of the closer tables now who were looking on in entertained confusion and worry.

A human waved a hand, “It’s alright Doc, we have you don’t we”

“I AM NOT THE MAGIC CURE FOR NEUROTOXIN.”

Another shrug, “Well it’s a good thing that I’ll throw up before anything really bad happens.”

The rundi steward tried to intervene as the humans began prodding through the other food, “Drev can eat human fruit, so I bet these things are like fruit.” one of them pointed out popping the berries into his mouth and chewing with a contemplative look on his face, “Not bad.”

“Please, please, if you would remain within your own food groups.” The Rundi begged. HE was now realizing he should have written up some legal documents to avoid litigation if the humans were to be damaged on their property, but now was too late.

A human waved him off, “Don’t worry, everyone else is done eating, besides.” He Pointed towards the human food, “That's literally a pile of lettuce, I am a man, not a horse.”

“Horses don’t eat lettuce, also that’s not lettuce,it’s spinach.” Another human piped up prodding at a strange squishy red ball sloshing with a strange pink nectar, “This looks like candy.”

“Please don’t put that in your mouth.”

The humans swarmed away from the two dissenting voices. One of them picked up the strange pink orb and licked it. It’s eyes lit up and it bit into the piece wiping pink juice from it’s face as it did, “Ok, this, this is good 10/10 would try again.” And that only caused all the other humans to move over to try one.

“I SAID GET THAT OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!” The vrul demanded.

The Rundi steward looked on in horror and worry. Vrul didn’t behave that way, everything here was just wrong.

A Drev joined the party just then pointing to the pink orb, “I love those, but you should definitely try these too.”

“No, no they should not.”

He was ignored, and the humans scooted over to look. It was a strange spiral plant in a light yellow color that made a distinctive crunching sound as the humans bit down. They shrugged, “Sort of just like space celery if you ask me.”

Did these creatures have no sense of self preservation!

A group had gathered around the table strangely amused at the humans, who just ate…. Everything.

The Rundi steward almost keeled over watching his future go down the drain as other species began offering humans food. Whatever it was, they seemed unable to resist putting it in their mouths. A human made a face spitting something back out into his hand, “Ax bleh, tastes like Satan’s feet.” “Quick question. When was the last time you licked Satan’s feet.” “The last time I was at your mom’s house.”

The humans made strange noises at each other as the Rundi stepped in and began grabbing things from the humans only to find the Vrul to be doing the same, “Stop it! Stop it all of you!.”

The human’s paused, as did the other delegates in surprise.

“STOP PUTTING THINGS IN YOUR MOUTH THAT YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT THEY ARE.” The intervening silence was broken as one of the humans loudly crunched on one of the pink orbs. Everyone turned to look at her and she just glanced around the group.

“What?” She wondered past a mouth full of food.

A human waved a hand at him, “Keep your shorts on, we promise you won't get in trouble if one of us dies.”

The Rundi stared on incredulous.

They were going to kill themselves, they were really going to kill themselves.

Maybe it was best if he resigned before being fired, at least he would be able to keep his dignity

#humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are spaceoddities #humans are weird #earth is a deathworld #Earth is space Ausralia

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leverage-ot3 · 4 years

Text

notable moments from The Reunion Job

leverage 3.02

Madavhi: All my work, erased, and I was only days away from cracking Manticore.

Nate: What's "Manticore"?

Madavhi: It's an electronic surveillance system. The Iranian government uses it to track protesters over cell phones, social networks, even e-mail.

Hardison: Yeah, hacker underground's flipping out about it. They use GPS to pinpoint a dissident, and then they swoop in and make the arrest.

Madavhi: The Internet made this protest possible, but now it's just a –

Nate: A liability? The government uses the people's weapon against them

- - - - -

Nate: "Cyrus"? It's "Mr. Madavhi." You can't get that attached.

Hardison: Fine. "Mr. Madavhi." He could go make a fortune working for Google or Microsoft. No, instead he risks his life fighting the bad guys. This is so our game.

Eliot (at the table behind them): He wasn't hit by the Vezarat. (comes around to sit with Hardison and Nate)

Nate: What, are you lurking?

Eliot: Yeah. I'm a lurker. It's my thing

- - - - -

eliot’s smile and raised eyebrows (x2) at hardison tho

+ he’s also wearing a red flannel with his leather jacket

- - - - -

Hardison: What's the Vezarat?

Eliot: That's the Iranian secret police. And trust me, if they wanted Cyrus, he wouldn't be sitting here talking to us.

Nate: But the Vezarat is still our logical target. So we should check our sources and see if there's a safe house in the area.

Hardison: So we're on this?

Nate: Yeah, well, we were always on this. I just wanted you to explain to me why. (gets up and heads for the Poker Room)

Hardison: You know how I feel about Mind games, Nate. Negatively. What are you looking at, lurker?

ELIOTS SMILE

- - - - -

Sophie: Eliot. Eliot, get rid of it. Ugh!

Eliot: (chuckling) I think he likes you.

Sophie (stands): You're gonna pay for this

eliot: mocks her

sophie: imma get back at you SO HARD and you’re never gonna see it coming

- - - - -

“That’s gonna cost ya” “I gotta dock ya”- hardison and eliot like a million times in this episode

- - - - -

Parker: At the East corner. (pushes vent out and enters the room) For a den of evil spies, this place smells delicious. Hardison, confiscate some pastries. (sits down at computer) Okay, no sign of Cyrus' hardware.

we love seeing parker in vents in her element + CONFISCATE PASTRIES FOR HER

- - - - -

Nate: Any of you ever trimmed a bonsai?

Eliot: Well, you know, I did. I was in Osaka, and I met this Japanese policewoman at a geisha bar....

- - - - -

Parker (to Sophie): Why is Eliot pouring your tea? Hmm? Did you brainwash him again?

Sophie: Mm, neurolinguistic programming. It's amazing what you can do with the power of suggestion. "Sugar." "Squeezed." a few strategic pats on the arm.

(Sophie pats Eliot on the arm and he pours her more tea, then realizes what Sophie has done)

Eliot: Damn it!

Sophie: You owe me for that roach business!

Eliot: Sophie, not again. (walks away)

okay but SHES DONE THIS TO HIM BEFORE LMFAO + a bonus parker and hardison laughing

also parker was eating a plate of pastries so that means thE BOYS GOT SOME FOR HER I LOVE IT

- - - - -

parker and hardison go into the office and be like 👀👀👀 wow he’s lonely

- - - - -

Eliot: Nobody else thinks it's weird that you can just buy anybody's yearbook online?

Hardison: You know, it's real cute, man, how you still believe in privacy

- - - - -

Nate: Here we go. Uh, Mrs. Zavransky, math teacher. Now, I bet if we turn to the cheerleaders... (turns page) Yes. Oh, Mandy. Mandy Babson.

Parker: What does the "DD" Mean?

Eliot: Yeah, right...

Nate: Seriously?

Hardison: Yeah, right. Two scoops of ice cream, just perfect.

she’s baby leave her alone

also bless hardison for not wanting to tarnish her

- - - - -

Parker: Aw, I feel bad for the nerd.

Eliot: Don't feel bad for this guy. Getting bullied in high school Is still no excuse for propping up dictators. He got bulled his whole high-school career. He's not criminal.

Sophie: Um...

Parker: Yeah, he is.

Sophie: Don't think about that.

Eliot: Not a bad criminal.

Hardison: Hey, what makes you think I got bullied in high school?

Eliot: Well, "A," You got a green hornet doll.

Hardison: Well, first of all, it's a limited-edition action figure. Second, it is green lantern. Educate yourself.

Eliot: Wow.

Hardison: Now pay attention. Get it right.

eliot “not a bad criminal” spencer knows that hardison is a good person with solid morals

also, eliot to some extent knows about hardison’s action figues which means that he has either seen them or hardison has told him specifically that he had them. this means that they have had, even if eliot seemed annoyed, some sort of conversations/hardison-talking-at-him-conversations and eliot LISTENED to a certain extend that he was able to recall this

- - - - -

Nate: Guys, wait, wait. Listen, listen. We got a locker combination, we have a teacher's name, and we have a crush. So, Duberman, he has made his old high school his Roman room.

Parker: Of course.

Nate: "Of course"? What's a Roman room? You have no idea, right? You know—

Parker: Nn.

Nate: You don't have any idea? It's a, it's a memory technique. Each of his passwords corresponds to an object in a space that he's intimately familiar with. In his case, the hallway of his old high school where he kept his locker. Now, if I were to make this bar my Roman room, everything I need to remember is right here. For instance, This, uh... My bank password would be "Balmoor." And my e- mail password would be Fitzy, here.

- - - - -

Parker: Hey. Nate just gave us his passwords.

Hardison: No, but I got all his passwords. You want to see his Netflix queue? He's got, like, every season of "Rockford files" every season of "Sex and the city," That show "Psych”.

chaotic children

- - - - -

Parker: You want to break into the high school? I could do that blindfolded. Yeah let's do it blindfolded.

HER HER HAVE FUN

- - - - -

Hardison: What do you know? Class of '85 has a reunion coming up in 8 months.

Nate: Hmm.

they all smile conspiratorially and eliot’s smile in specific gave me serotonin

- - - - -

(Parker sets up a video camera and walks past a board of photos)

Parker: So many awkward people in so many ugly outfits.

[Interior Van]

Hardison: Yeah, you're lucky you never went to high school. Nothing but heartbreak and homework.

[High School Gym]

Parker: Didn't you go to your prom?

[Interior Van]

Hardison: Uh...I was kind of busy.

[Flashback]

(a teenaged Hardison is sitting at a computer making a transfer from the Bank of Iceland)

Hardison: Looks like the Bank of Iceland's paying off Nana's medical bills. That's dope!

[Interior Van]

Hardison: Good times

- - - - -

Hardison: Besides, I'm sure you already had your high- school fun. Big man on campus. What, quarterback?

[Flashback]

Kid: Come on, Eliot. This is so lame. Quarterbacks do not take Home Ec.

Eliot: I got my reasons.

Kid: Phew! Let's get out of here.

Girl: Eliot, like this. (leans over Eliot, showing her cleavage) Knives are like people. It's all about the context.

[Exterior Dubertech]

Eliot: I had many interests

- - - - -

hardison getting too into the high school drama lmao

- - - - -

Hardison: Not exactly. (looking at information on monitors) She's a hired gun.

[Hallway]

Sophie: An assassin? Nikki’s an assassin?

[Interior Van]

Hardison: Yeah, I guess we weren't the only ones with the bright idea to pose as alumni. This chick's connected to wet work jobs All up and down the East coast. Russian mob, Italian mob. There's a New Zealand mob?

her name is miranda miles *squints at the file on hardison’s computer* bruh no way she’s only 25 ??? they even give her height and weight but I guess that’s how all wanted files go

also in one of the commentaries didn’t they say that she was married to that other assassin ???

- - - - -

(a piece of door falls in and the Vezarat leader looks in)

Vezarat Leader: The health inspector?

Eliot: I'm gonna have to dock you again

LMFAO

also he’s wearing a grey flannel under his jacket

- - - - -

(Eliot knees the leader in the face, then pulls him up and punches him in the head. He turns to duck a blow from the other man and hits him in the head with one of Duberman’s chess trophies)

Eliot: Checkmate.

(Eliot throws the trophy down on the man. Behind him the leader stands up and cracks his neck)

Eliot: Or not.

he did the lil flip thing with the trophy

- - - - -

(Sophie hits Nikki in the head with the extinguisher and takes off her shoes)

Sophie: I always hated cheerleaders.

(Nikki swings several times and Sophie blocks each blow with the extinguisher, hurting Nikki’s wrist)

Sophie: It's mean girls like you that always ruined high school for the rest of us!

Nikki: What the hell are you talking about?

(Nikki kicks but Sophie moves to one side. Nikki tries to punch but Sophie blocks with the extinguisher. Sophie dodges a kick and hits Nikki in the head, then pushes her down and runs away. Nikki grabs her gun and fires after Sophie, missing her)

Nikki: Damn it

- - - - -

Nikki: Now, why would I do that?

(Parker walks forward and tasers Nikki in the neck)

Nikki: Ohh!

Nate: That's why.

(Nikki falls to the ground, convulsing. Parker grabs her legs and starts to pull her away)

Parker: Catering, what a business

we love to see parker tasering people

- - - - -

on today’s edition of things that aren’t weapons that eliot uses as weapons, our guy literally used one of the goons’ bodies to hit another goon and send them both down

what a king

- - - - -

Mandy: Your votes are in for the king and queen of the reunion! And the lucky winner is, Grace Peltz and Drake McIntyre!

Schmitty: Mac attack! Yeah!

(the crowd escorts Nate and Sophie forward)

Nate: Uh, very funny, Hardison.

Hardison: Oh, you think I did this? Naw, man, I don't rig elections. I mean, I could, but...

Sophie: Parker, Was this you?

Parker: (hanging upside down) I didn't even know they had kings and queens in high school

- - - - -

Hardison (looks up): May I have this dance, miss?

(Parker lowers herself on her line and they begin dancing)

Parker: So this is what high school was like, huh?

Hardison: Ah...Pretty much.

Eliot: Hello?

[Exterior Dubertech]

(Eliot walks out of the building as Sloane gets to his feet)

Eliot: Everybody having a good time at the dance? Anybody wonder if Eliot made it out?

(Eliot punches Sloan, who falls back into the bushes)

Eliot: Does anybody wonder if Eliot's alive? Hello?!

[High School Gym]

(the two couples continue to dance as the music plays)

🥰 parker’s feet not touching the floor 🥰

also aww poor eliot someone care about him pls

#leverage #leverage 3.02 #leverage 3x02 #the reunion job #leverage season 3 #season 3 #notable moments #mine

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