#One thing though is that despite the seeming attempts to criticize all sides

[theodore-sallis]

“A Question of Survival!” Fear (Vol. 1/1970), #18.

Writer: Steve Gerber; Penciler: Val Mayerik; Inker: Sal Trapani; Colorist: Linda Lessmann; Letterer: Artie Simek

#Marvel #Marvel comics #Marvel 616 #Fear #Man-Thing #I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that the creators decided to tackle the US’ seeming increasing disregard for human life #during this time period seeing as such a great deal of Man-Thing comics are about ‘what makes a man???’ #and the nature of humanity #but it’s interesting to see nonetheless #spanning everything from the various ethical questions surrounding the Vietnam War #and the post-60’s burnout of activists #(it doesn’t escape my notice that Holden Crane might very well be named after Holden Caulfield aka the pop culture poster child #for apathetic youth) #oh and those who to turn to substance abuse as well #One thing though is that despite the seeming attempts to criticize all sides #the sergeant gets some brief muddy moments to appear somewhat heroic while Holden gets a literal snake dropped at his feet aldhsj #I don’t know if that was supposed to be metaphorical (kind of like dropping a rat on someone’s doorstep) but if it is #it just struck me as unusual seeing as how anti-military industrial complex most Man-Thing comics have been #or is this their way of insinuating they’re anti-military industry but not necessarily anti-military personnel??? #Seeing as our hero Ted is supposed to be military personnel (if tangentially/auxiliary) as well after all??? #oh and how could I forget amidst all of this philosophizing we have Ted banging a python against a tree so there’s that hahaha

[genericpuff]

I was kind of curious: What do you think of Persephone's therapy scenes in episodes 160-161?

I personally liked them, but you and many other LO critics always seem to see things that totally flew over my head (I mean that in a positive way).

I think the idea behind them was fine, just the execution that felt really half-baked. Rachel doesn't like scenes to sit too long so the therapy scene, of course, wound up being rushed in the course of 2-3 episodes (meaning she had to have Persephone dump everything all at once) and while Persephone's dialogue is handled relatively well, the direction of the scene itself feels entirely mismanaged (which is both a side effect of Rachel's directionless writing and the fact that she clearly doesn't want to do more than one of these kinds of episodes so she needs to speedrun it).

TRIGGER WARNING: Discussion concerning sexual assault ahead!

Like, let's start with Persephone's intent in going to therapy. Wanting to pursue therapy doesn't just happen suddenly, there's usually a "trigger event" to make someone realize "I need help", whether it be hitting rock bottom or even just going "I feel like I don't have the skills or tools necessary to deal with what I'm dealing with, I need a professional opinion".

Despite Eros advising her to go to therapy all the way back in S1 to address her assault-

-she actually finally goes to therapy in S2 not to address the assault, but to address... how she feels insecure in comparison to Hera who she just found out Hades had a long-term affair with??? At least that's definitely the implication.

And then of course the therapy session itself segues immediately into "Persephone is a high achiever and it's because of her mom being overbearing" which Rachel doesn't connect at all to either the SA or her feeling insecure compared to Hera (which, by the way, barely even has anything to do with her, but she didn't - and still doesn't - have the emotional maturity or self-respect to realize that Hades is a serial cheater-)

That's where the first therapy episode cuts off, and then the next episode immediately opens with Persephone writing her entire backstory on a whiteboard, so we can assume time has passed and she's talked about everything from her childhood up until this point.

Then we get Chiron asking Persephone... what could go wrong if she leaves TGOEM??

Even though we never saw any of the actual sequence so it just feels like a question that's coming out of nowhere? Like did Persephone say during that schpeel that she wanted to leave TGOEM? Isn't that something we should have seen to connect these two trains of thought?

Ah, right, because we have to get into Hades. Because this comic fails the Bechdel test so hard it can't even have a character talk about their trauma or childhood without it seguing into "well there's this one specific main character guy I just really wanna sleep with-"

Don't get me wrong, if Rachel is trying to "deconstruct purity culture" here, I can get her angle with this, if Persephone has been "groomed her entire life" to be an eternal maiden then there's clearly some thought processes about sexual attraction there that are being challenged by her attraction to Hades. But it just feels so rushed purely for the sake of getting her through her trauma and childhood problems and everything that Rachel tacked onto her backstory (in an attempt to make her seem more than just a self-insert) so that Rachel can get her back on track to sleeping with Hades, the one and only man she's clearly ever felt sexual attraction to enough to want to leave TGOEM and question her entire childhood.

And then we get this and I just-

Like first of all, again, Persephone being a complete airhead and not realizing that it has less to do with her possibly being an inadequate partner and more to do with Hades being a serial cheater who also used her as an emotional affair partner;

but ALSO the fact that the conclusion is some "eureka" moment of "you're a bad decision maker" ??? I was a fan of the comic still when this scene happened and even I went "huh?"

Like she doesn't bother to try and connect it to everything she just learned and said about her childhood and how she wants to be the "perfect daughter" who will make everyone happy, Chiron just reduces it to "oh you just suck at making decisions". As if "sucking at making decisions" isn't like, a reactionary extension of deeper problems. She's treating it as if Persephone is some "puzzle" to be solved and her being a "bad decision maker" was the answer when it's undoubtedly just one of many side effects of her upbringing. It feels like she's addressing the cough and not the virus.

Also a little off topic but-

Gotta love how we've never seen Persephone actually employ this homework from her therapist because she's constantly stapled to Hades and the only thing she cares about is his happiness. Literally, I don't think Persephone could possibly answer that question because she's never been independent enough to even learn what makes her happy - she's jumped from wanting to make her mother happy to wanting to make Hades happy but we're supposed to condemn the former and celebrate the latter.

Buuut of course we don't get her answering that question because again, Rachel can't spend more than 30 seconds on a single scene because that would demand too much writing and thought from her. So we cut to Hera having a discussion with Asclepius regarding her scars re-opening, yadda yadda.

By the time we cut back to the therapy session at the start of the next episode (that's three episodes that have been spent basically accomplishing nothing because none of the thought threads tie together in a meaningful way beyond what the audience has to assume) Chiron is conveniently wrapping things up and it's then and only then does Rachel try to actually incorporate the SA plotline that was Persephone's ORIGINAL MOTIVATION in going to therapy.

Now, the scene for the most part is fine, I don't really like how the therapy session was written leading up to it, but her describing her freeze response and how she feels guilty she couldn't "fight back" is a very real feeling that I can definitely say was well written.

My one gripe with it though - and sure, this might be nitpicky, but here me out - is this:

I don't particularly like that Chiron the therapist just found out about her patient being a rape victim - someone who's also said she doesn't like people grabbing her / touching her without her consent - and then decides the best course of action is to comfort her... while touching her.

Now I want to make it perfectly clear, it's not against the law or even the code of ethics to make physical contact between a therapist and their patient. Loads of patients have made breakthroughs with their therapists that have called for hugs and while some therapists may not be okay with it, there are definitely therapists who are who fully understand that hugs in those moments are the best thing for a person. But it's still a general boundary that is there and even with patients who aren't victims of SA, consent needs to be asked for / given.

So Chiron just... coming over and touching Persephone on the knee, while undoubtedly seen as a "warm and comforting act" by those who have had similar sessions with their own therapists or even just those who have no clue and see it on the surface level as being "sweet", really irks me, because it just seems so tone deaf to do with a character like Persephone who is supposed to be a victim of having her bodily autonomy taken away from her.

Again, it's a small criticism, and undoubtedly a nitpick in the eyes of some, but a simple "can I give you a hug?" from either Chiron or Persephone would have gone a long way in accomplishing Persephone's need for consent and bodily autonomy a lot more than just having Chiron come up and touch her leg without her consent. Please, for the love of god, let Persephone have some autonomy, asking for consent doesn't ruin the moment.

And that's pretty much it, Persephone talks about how she feels like she's tethered to Apollo, and Chiron assures her that's not the case, session over, Persephone goes outside to Hades aaaand notice how we never actually tackled that "I feel insecure because of my partner having former partners?" thing? Notice how the best we got was her talking about her fears of being an "inadequate partner" which focused entirely on her not being "enough" for Hades and being a "bad decision maker" rather than pointing out 1.) Hades' own faults in being a serial cheater that would undoubtedly contribute to her insecurities and 2.) what Persephone could do for Hades rather than what Hades could do for Persephone? It's always "I don't know if I'm good enough for him" and never "I don't know if he's good enough for me."

Yet another F-- on Lore Olympus' Bechdel test. Every single thing tacked onto Persephone's backstory is meant purely to get her with Hades - TGOEM is just an obstacle preventing her from having sex with Hades, the assault is just a framing device to show how much "better" Hades is for Persephone than Apollo, her overbearing childhood is just to show how much more "free" she is now that she's not living with her mother and is living with Hades instead, etc.

No agency, no autonomy, no character, even when it tries.

#lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical #ama #ask me anything #anon ama #anon ask me anything

[lutawolf]

The Sign Commentary Review Ep 1

So earlier today, I made a post telling everyone to go watch. By popular demand, I'll be doing a commentary. Moving forward, I will do commentary at the same time I watch, but I'm unable to do that here. Still, even in the second watch, I have a lot to say.

And action! Because I've watched this already, I know it's a training exercise. I was clueless to this initially, though, which in my personally opinion kept me more on edge. For the sake of the review, I have to point out that some of the fight scenes appear slow. Not all of them, just some of the fighting here and there. I'm assuming due to new actors and not enough rehearsal time, but I still enjoyed it. It's just something you pick up on, not something that takes away from the show. But as you can see below with the betrayal scene, that for the most part, the fight scenes are well choreographed.

The way Tharn sees the future has me a little concerned about him getting hurt. He's distracted and in the thick of things, that's not a good thing. But he sees enough to know he has to rescue Phaya from real danger. Without another thought, he rushes to Phaya's side. At this point, I do pick up feelings from Tharn. You can brush it off to him rushing to help someone, he would do it for anyone, but it's the intensity in which he does it. I mean, there is a lot more concern there that you would expect more with a bestie or crush.

Chart is straight up anger management crazy. How did he pass the psych evaluation to even go into training? Tharn shows up at the critical moment to save Phaya and because of Chart's crazy ass, they all fail. As well as being punished.

Let me tell you, I tend to punish all my kids at the same time, too. Why? Because the ones suffering due to the one who messed up will make the one who messed up suffer. The two will gang up to make the one, and that mistake will not be repeated. Why am I not seeing that here? Why is anyone still siding with that douche canoe???

Yet there they are, siding with him instead of beating his ass. Also, is Chart really talking like Tharn saving Phaya was a bad thing? Like that if Phaya had asked for help, it's somehow unacceptable?

Then we meet the side friends! I adore Tharn's half brother.

And then the side couple? Maybe? Maybe not. I mean, I tend to be like "Bitch, you better be joking" when it comes to cheating.

Though the way Khem calls Thong Babe is adorbs.

I've counted three times when Chart has done the thumb to nose. Is this some kind of character habit, or is he a user?

I love these two lovely bunch of coconuts, your honor. I truly do. I also think that Yai is more insightful than he appears. Take him asking Tharn why most of his visions involve Phaya. He's trying to lead the horse to the trough. "But you seem to care about him a lot." See, insightful.

Then Phaya comes to break up the brotherly love. Maybe he would have said thank you had Tharn been truthful, but you can't really blame Tharn there.

I think Phaya finds Tharn suspicious. Nope, he does not believe Tharn at all.

Then the torture training begins. Luckily for us because we then get to see them cuddle huddle together for warmth.

Why are only the two of them cuddling, huddling together. Where is the brotherly love?!?

This is clearly a macho exercise. Where they are just trying to survive. It is absolutely not flirting. 👀👀👀

Still not flirting.

Nope, no obvious middle school flirtation going on here.

For some quality time together, the guys cart logs through the woods. Tharn gets a glimpse into the future and sees Chart getting hurt. The better man than me, actually checks on Chart. Yes, I would have absolutely let him taste Karma. The dude is unstable! Thankfully, despite Tharn's attempt to interfere, Chart still falls.

Underwater training has them escaping from hand ties and reaching lifeboats. However, Phaya hasn't come up and Tharn is losing his shit. This is when we get a dragon and a mermaid!!! While Phaya takes the mermaid's hand, he is pulled up by Tharn.

Nothing to see here! Absolutely not a romantic moment at all.

We see Phaya drawing the mermaid, which both Tharn and Yai take notice of because she looks so much like Tharn. A lot of mocking ensues thanks to Yai who his clearly trying to play matchmaker, "You like him so much, you're even drawing his picture.". And I think it's working because when he mentions that the names are similar, we notice that Phaya finds this interesting. What I find interesting is when Yai asks why he is drawing Tharn's picture, there is no denial. Phaya simply says it's personal.

This is when we see flashbacks of the first time Phaya and Tharn meet. Yeah, it was a fated moment without a doubt.

Have I mentioned that I love Yai? Him tripping those that are after his brother is just icing on the cake.

Then Yai instigates the moment that leads to an accidental kiss.

It's at this time that they also find a body floating in the water. It ends up being one of the trainers at the faculty. Some are saying it's suicide, but that doesn't make sense to Phaya.

Tharn chases after Phaya like a golden retriever. Trying to make sure he wasn't angry about that morning. Phaya stops and trips Tharn up, Causing him to fall. Still not flirting! 👀👀👀

*Cough. Cough* Yeah, no mistaking that. We are now clearly flirting.

In celebration of passing their training, the guys go out to drink. Hilarity and comradery ensue. We find out about possible side couple having dated in the past. That our golden retriever is also cursed with bad romantic luck. Leaving him very virginal.

We get this beautiful moment in the bathroom. And that should be an oxymoron but damn if it wasn't sexy. Phaya zipping up Tharn's zipper and Tharn unable to stop himself from leaning his head back. Then Phaya throwing down the gauntlet of flirtation. Boy is no longer hiding. If Tharn is confused, then it's cause he is stupid. When they get back to the table and start playing a truth or dare game, Tharn drinks rather than admitting that he likes someone at the table. I mean, might as well admit it at this point, cause the drinking said it all. Then Phaya questioning what Tharn is like drunk. Hmmm. Me thinks he wants some secrets answered. He has his suspicions about Tharn and he wants answers. Be it Tharn or his drunk brother.

We end the episode on a bit of a cliffhanger note. With them, overhear the instructors talking about the death, and everything points to it not being a suicide.

I am 100% hooked. I can't wait for the next episode. Hope you guys enjoyed!!! 💜💜💜

#the sign the series #the sign bl #phayatharn #luta talks the sign #coconuts mafia

[sunnydazeofyore]

Butterflies at Twilight [Honkai Star Rail Fanfiction]

Stelle and Firefly stood shoulder to shoulder on the rooftop in the dreamscape, watching shooting stars pass by like distant wishes in the perpetual twilight of the Golden Hour. No more words needed to pass between them in the comfortable silence, their pinkies a breath apart that could be broken in an instant. With Robin’s yearning song echoing in the background, the Trailblazer was trying to not be so conscious of the girl by her side. Firefly had this innocent beauty to her that was reminiscent of a childhood friend who you had just realized had grown into a gorgeous young woman. Of course, it was not as if Stelle could understand what a childhood friend actually was, nor could really anyone on the Express help elucidate that for her. So she was trapped, floundering alone in these budding feelings as her sideways staring was met with the other girl's twilight eyes.

"Is something the matter?" the younger girl shyly asked, brushing aside her cloudy bangs and fidgeting slightly with the tips. "You've been quiet for a while, do you not like it here?"

Stelle shook her head vigorously and protested, "Nonono, I love it out here. I just. I've not seen anything like this and I was taking it all in and..." Fishing for excuses to mask her yearning thoughts, she scratched the back of her head and gave an awkward smile.

It seemed to be enough, as Firefly smiled back warmly. "I'm so glad that I got to show you this spot. I agree, there's really nothing else like this." With that she turned to gaze upon the theater in the distance, that warm smile still firmly upon her lips. Her lips... Stelle couldn't help but stare at them, how soft and inviting they suddenly looked. Heat crept onto her cheeks without warning, prompting her to rip away her hungering eyes. While Stelle had checked out and even yearned for other women in the recent weeks of being a Trailblazer, there was something different about the fluttering in her stomach now. Was this too soon and too sudden? Is this love at first sight? She brought up her hand to her mouth and absent mindedly tapped her index finger against her own lips, suddenly deep in thought about this conundrum...though perhaps the thinking could wait. Stelle was a woman of action, after all! However, the galactic baseballer didn't have an easy target to swing her bat at to pave the way forward. So, she had to consult the next best thing: What would March do in this situation?

"Do you want to take a picture?" Stelle blurted out, startling her poor companion, who let out a noise like a small kitten. "Cutecutecutecute" rang out the thoughts in the Trailblazer's head as she continued, "Sorry, I just really thought it would be good to take one to remember this moment and...yeah." she awkwardly finished, again rubbing the back of her head.

Firefly regained her composure, giggling at her new friend's desperate attempt to connect. Clasping her hands together, she replied softly, "I think that's a wonderful idea! I've never actually taken a picture here, despite how many times I've come here. How funny is that?" she giggled again, Stelle freezing at this adorable creature's every mannerism. "I'd be honored to commemorate this moment with a selfie with you."

The gray haired girl's nonexistent tail was wagging at full force by this point, beaming as she scrambled for her phone. After setting up the front facing camera, she made a peace sign with her other hand. "Okay, scooch in and we'll..." Stelle started, her breath catching as Firefly did so, the two's shoulders touching and causing her poor heart to nearly explode on the spot. Okay, she was really down bad for this girl. If only she'd gotten more advice from March, or even Himeko, about what to do here, she wouldn’t be such a mess at this critical moment. 

The twilight-eyed girl turned up to look at Stelle, still smiling warmly. "Are you ready?" Stelle gulped and nodded, trying to put on a natural smile as the two made matching peace signs and she clicked down on the shutter. An eternal moment caught in a camera's lens in the midst of a dream, it almost felt like a miracle to Stelle as she reviewed it. Firefly was still shoulder to shoulder with her, beaming happily. "Ah, you caught a shooting star! Did you happen to-" she turned to the Trailblazer as she noticed this fortuitous detail, only for her mind to see shooting stars as Stelle pressed their lips together.

Stelle, for her part, felt her mind go completely blank as her heart exploded into fireworks. Firefly's lips were just as soft as they looked, and was kissing supposed to feel this good? It felt like cotton candy and marshmallows and everything saccharine sweet and pillowy at once. After a moment she retreated, suddenly aware of what she'd done. "I, um, well, I just- that is..." she started stuttering out the start of several half apologies and excuses as her face flushed crimson. Firefly herself was in a state of shock, reaching up to her lips with a blank stare into the night. When realization caught up with her, her face exploded with heat and she squeaked as she buried her face in her hands, crouching down onto the rooftop and hiding away from Stelle.

"Ah, Firefly, I'm so sorry I just-" Stelle stammered out and kneeled next to her friend. She wasn't recognizing the situation for what it was, feeling her heart sink icily into her stomach. She tried desperately to find the words to fix this and see that warm smile again.

"...-rst." murmured out the cloudy haired girl.

"...huh?" inquired Stelle, the brakes being put on now in her racing mind.

"That was my first kiss" whispered Firefly, now turning up her head to face Stelle, their flushed gazes meeting again after those agonizing moments. "...and it was...really nice..." She continued in the softest tone Stelle had ever heard, reaching out to clasp Stelle's pinky with her own. The two would continue to sit in flustered silence for a while longer, while the false stars above twinkled on.

#honkai star rail #fanfic #firefly #stelle #trailblazer #spoilers #yuri #hsr #hsr fanfic #stelle x firefly #penacony #wlw fanfic #wlw #my fics

[august-anon]

Revenge is a Dish Best Served With a Smile

For Tickletober Day 4: Weak Spot

-----

Fandom: Critical Role

Ship(s): Widomauk (though more implied than explicit)

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Mollymauk/Ler!Caleb

Word Count: 1446 words

Summary: Mollymauk was getting a little too bold, thinking he could always get away with his tickle attacks. Wizards may not be known for their strength, but no one has ever said that Caleb isn't resourceful.

[ao3 link]

----------

Caleb knew he was an easy target. Wizards weren’t exactly known for their strength or agility, after all. The thing was, he never expected to become a target in his own party.

Ultimately, it had been Jester’s fault – with her particular brands of mischief and physical affection, it had only been a matter of time until weaknesses were revealed. But despite her position as their resident trickster, Jester wasn’t the one Caleb needed to keep an eye on. No, that was Mollymauk, taking advantage of Caleb’s sensitivities in every spare moment he could.

Internally, Caleb could just barely admit to himself that he didn’t necessarily mind it. Maybe, sometimes, when he was particularly tired (or blissed out post-tickle attack), he could even admit to himself that he liked it. Just a little. But that didn’t erase the fact that Molly was getting a little too bold, a little too sure of himself when it came to his attacks. Caleb knew he wasn’t untouchable, he’d watched Yasha and Jester take down Molly when he got a bit too cocky, but therein came the problem. Jester and Yasha were strong and quick – they knew exactly how to take Molly down in order to shut him up or exact their revenge.

But wizards weren’t exactly known for their strength or agility. 

Still, weeks of tickle attacks could not continue to go unpunished.

As it turned out, Caleb’s opportunity for revenge came packaged nicely in one such attempt. He had sequestered himself in his tavern room for the night, studying some new scrolls they had found on their latest adventure, when Molly found him. He sighed and allowed his eyes to flick up towards Molly for just a moment before returning to his scrolls, and Molly seemed to take that as his invitation into the room. The bed dipped next to him as Molly settled himself down, and he could feel the tiefling heat radiating off him as Molly leaned into his space.

“No merry-making for you tonight, dear?”

Caleb sighed again. “I do not make merry, Mollymauk. And in any case, I am busy with far more important things.”

Molly reclined on the bed behind him, curling a sly fingernail into the folds of his shirt, tugging slightly. “It’s just as well, I suppose. Beau and Yasha are trashed already, and frankly, it’s more than a little painful to watch.”

Against his better judgement, Caleb snorted. Mollymauk’s finger plucked at the loose edges of his shirt with more intent.

“Fjord’s well on his way there, as well. By the time I left, he looked half a drink away from slamming Beau and Yasha’s faces together himself.”

“Perhaps he should,” Caleb said absentmindedly, bringing the scroll closer to his face to squint at a specific rune.

He heard Molly let out a dramatic sigh as the bed shifted with his restless squirming. Then, he jumped as he felt a thin band begin to wrap around his waist. Glancing down, he saw Molly’s tail wrapped around his body, the spade of it hovering threateningly near his bottom rib. Molly’s fingernail had also found a new home, having managed to untuck Caleb’s shirt and slip underneath it to trace the curve of Caleb’s side just above his hip.

“Molly,” Caleb admonished, shifting his weight toward the nightstand in case he needed to swiftly get his scrolls out of harm's way.

“Yes, dear?” Molly purred.

“I believe it would be wise to quit while you are ahead. You’re distracting me.”

Molly chuckled behind him and sat up, pressing his chest to Caleb’s back. “Was that a threat, Mr. Widogast?”

“Perhaps it was.”

Molly chuckled, and Caleb flinched as Molly’s tail tightened around his waist, the spade of it beginning to wiggle into the space between his two lowest ribs. “Such confidence from a man in your predicament. Tell me, how exactly do you plan on wriggling your way out of this one?”

That was an excellent question, in Caleb’s opinion, because currently he had no plan. He didn’t even know if he wanted a plan yet, or if this was yet another instance Mollymauk would have his mirthful way with Caleb without consequence. But in either case, Molly’s tail’s ministrations were becoming ticklish enough to make him squirm. He couldn’t help the instinct to reach up and grab the thing. Molly let out a startled sound (much like a cat, Caleb thought fondly) and tried to wrench the limb away, but Caleb tightened his grip, smoothing his thumb over the spade of the tail to try and stop it’s squirming. Instead, the squirming (both from the tail and Molly himself) increased tenfold and Molly let out another startled noise – this one pitched far higher than the last.

“Alright,” Molly said, his voice high and wavering, “you’ve made your point. I can leave you to your boring old books, if that’s what you really want.”

Caleb hesitated, smoothing his thumb over the skin once more and gaining himself another frantic tug. “I apologize, am I making you uncomfor–”

“No!”

Caleb finally looked over his shoulder, finding Molly’s too-wide eyes already locked on his. His lavender skin had tinged a darker purple across his face and ears and all the way down his neck. As Caleb continued to analyze him, Molly swallowed heavily. Caleb narrowed his eyes. He knew this wasn’t an inappropriate situation – Molly and Jester had never expressed discomfort with their tails being handled before – but even if it was illicit, Molly wasn’t the sort to blush and squirm from those sorts of things anyway. He’d be more likely to flirt and tease and try to make Caleb blush instead – not that that was a particularly difficult feat.

Carefully, gently, Caleb brushed his thumb back and forth across the flat of the tail’s spade. Molly lurched forward, practically squealing as he curled up against Caleb’s back. A slow smile spread across Caleb’s lips.

“I see.”

“Caleb, don’t tease.”

Caleb let out an incredulous laugh. “And why should I not? You’re quite fond of teasing others in this position, are you not?”

Molly’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. “I still have my pride,” he ground out.

“Well, let me relieve you of that, then.”

Caleb brought his free hand up, spidering his blunt nails on the flat of the spade. Molly broke down into gasping giggles and went limp against Caleb, fingers clutching onto his shirt. His tail tugged for freedom, wiggled in Caleb’s grip, but seemed altogether too weak to be able to break free. Caleb chuckled and tickled his way down the length of Molly’s tail, watching as he arched his back the closer Caleb got to the base of it. He wondered what would happen if he tickled there and the spade of the tail at the same time, but he didn’t think it was possible with only two hands and the strength of a wizard. At least, not without some maneuvering, and he didn’t know if attempting to adjust them would trigger Molly’s revenge.

“I see why you do this so often,” Caleb said. “It is quite amusing to watch.”

Molly simply made a wordless whine, curling further into Caleb’s back and side until his face was buried in Caleb’s hip. He’d all but melted otherwise, aside from his shaking laughter and the twitching of his tail. Caleb’s smile turned fond.

“I’d almost say you like this. It’s quite cute actually.”

Molly grumbled something unintelligible into the skin of his hip, and Caleb flinched at the ticklish feeling, his own tickling faltering for a moment. Caleb sighed and paused his revenge, weaving his hand into Molly’s hair instead to scratch at his scalp. If possible, Molly melted even further into Caleb and the bed, practically purring.

“Perhaps the rest of us should get revenge more often, ja?”

Molly tilted his head up just enough to be heard and said, “I certainly wouldn’t be opposed.”

“I’ll remember this for next time.”

Molly grinned at the promise, and Caleb couldn’t help but smile back. Absentmindedly, he lifted Molly’s tail to his face and pressed a quick kiss to the spade of it, forgetting the prickliness of his scruff. Molly’s eyes blew wide again as he squealed, high-pitched and near-deafening, and launched himself backwards on the bed, ripping his tail out of Caleb’s hand in the process.

A dangerous grin that felt very much like it belonged more on Molly or Jester spread across Caleb’s face. “Or perhaps I’ll make use of it right now. What do you think?”

Molly’s tail twisted into excited little curlicues between them. “I’d say you’re rather foolish for expecting me to go down without a fight twice.

#tickle fic #my writing #critickle role #lee!mollymauk #ler!caleb #ticklish!mollymauk #critical role #cr #caleb widogast #mollymauk tealeaf #widomauk #tickletober #tickletober 2023 #augtickletober2023

[inhuman-obey-me]

What are your thoughts on OG obey me not getting anymore lessons after 80? It worries me because it kinda feels like they are trying to kill it slowly.... This is making me not enjoy nightbringer because i thought i would be a spin off new game with a new story that we could play while waiting for OG obey me to come with season 5, but now it seams like nightbringer will be their only foucus and season 5 will never happen. Sorry this kinda turned into a rant just not liking what's happening now.

Yeah, we weren't too happy when we first heard about it, which was the AMA the devs did on Reddit. It was a shitty way to release that information, and it sucks that they really only said so when people ASKED if OG was going to get season 5/more lessons. It did create backlash right away, which we guess they were...attempting to avoid in the first place lol. But they definitely should have handled that announcement a lot better than they did.

In terms of what it means for the future of OG, we don't think they are trying to kill it per se so much as they just sort of...wrote themselves into a corner, and this was their way of hitting reset, on that and other things.

(no need to apologize for ranting, ours is even longer LOL -- rest under the cut!)

We definitely have some criticisms of the writing in Season 4, particularly how they squandered much of what was narratively set up in Season 3, and they didn't really set anything up on where it goes from there. It's also unfortunate that the original game is just going to be doing the same events as Nightbringer, rather than separate ones, which just means there's really nothing to motivate people to stay. And in that way, it does also sort of feel like a waste of all the effort people have put in to strengthen up our cards and grind affection and stuff, because we can't transfer ANY of that. They probably hope to continue that both sides will make money for them, but realistically speaking, it does feel like they are effectively just pushing everyone to migrate to the new game, and that the original is being sort of abandoned to just a maintenance mode kind of thing.

One thing they did note about the decision was that Ruri Tunes was originally supposed to just be an additional mode, but they decided to split it off as part of a separate Nightbringer game/story in order to not make the original "unplayable" with all they wanted to add and change "under the hood". Part of that, at least at a guess, may be due to the difficulty curve of the original -- despite them adjusting the difficulty in a patch, plus their zero-AP lesson battle promo campaigns, they probably were seeing a lot of drop-off just for people who gave up because they couldn't make it through those earlier lessons to even finish Seasons 2, 3, and 4. In that sense, it's good and bad to shift the continuation of the story to this new game even though they don't seem to have actually learned their lesson with the difficulty curve problem... But that's another thing they get to hit reset on by making a new game.

As for a Season 5, we do know from the same AMA that the story from the original is supposed to "continue" in Nightbringer, which suggests that it might pick back up from the end of Season 4 as effectively a Season 5, like maybe MC will make it back to their own time and continue from there, just in this other game instead of the original. Which, um, is certainly a choice on their part, especially since not everyone has the time or interest in a rhythm game. It kinda feels also a bit like this sudden time travel thing in Nightbringer may almost be a way of buying them some time while they figure out what to do as a continuation to the OG plot.

All of that said, however, considering the lack of direction for the original, we've actually been really enjoying Nightbringer's story! It dives into a lot of super interesting questions and content that fans have been begging for and brings back some of the darker themes from Season 1 that we've really missed, so even though it's not quite the Season 5 we've been waiting for, we're really hyped for the new content to keep coming!

#strongly believe that this was their way of fixing what they did to the OG story #it was an easier way to bring back darker themes after they went too far the gag/comical route in most of season 4 #but yes here's our rant about it lol #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #omnb #obey me #ask and ye shall be answered #ask and ye shall receive (essays) #nightbringer discussion

[karume-selfshipper]

Zora May: Draconification

Very long post, end of TotK (possible spoilers idk I didn't finish the game either...), close to the end of Tides that Bind (original Selatoh AU), dots to separate non-flowing scenes.

.

Despite how late at night it was, Selatoh was up a the first sound of Sidon’s footfalls just beyond her door. Ever since Link had left the domain some months ago, Sidon and to a greater extent Selatoh had been awaiting him to call for aid. Though had Sidon known his dear sister was following behind him, he would have made every effort to stop her. It wasn’t until he had rounded the corner, realizing he had a small company of not only Selatoh but Tottika, Bazz, and Gaddison. 

“Wha- What?” Sidon stopped, “What are you doing? Especially you Selatoh. You need to remain-”

“Not this time brother.” Selatoh shook her head, “I’ve stayed behind far too many times. It’s time to act and we haven’t the luxury of time.”

As much as Sidon wanted to argue, he knew deep down that Selatoh was correct. Even if they wouldn’t have much to do, Sidon knew that Selatoh had all but sat on the sidelines during her entire life up to this point. At the very least she could remain to tell others what happened…

.

If it weren’t for the massive surge of monsters from all sides, Selatoh would have leapt into the chasm under Hyrule Castle alongside her brother. But the surface, the researchers and fellow fighters needed her more. She wouldn’t let anyone down, not in such a critical moment…

.

No one seemed to know how the Sages emerged from the pit, but Selatoh didn’t care. She didn’t want answers, she wanted to make sure Sidon was okay. Rushing over with Tottika close on her heels, skidding to a halt as she dropped to one knee. 

“Sidon, are you alright?” Selatoh was quick to begin her attempts at healing magic, “Where is Link?”

“I don’t know.” Sidon shook his head, small injuries fading, “All I was aware of was Ganondorf using some form of darkened wave to force us Sages out.”

“It’s all up to Link at this point.” The massive automaton known as Mineru spoke with a saddened voice, “It was always destined to fall to the Hylian hero.”

The aggravated hum from Selatoh was hardly audible, yet the look on her face was unmistakable. Even as Tottika gently eased his hand over her arm, he wasn’t certain what to do to help calm her. This was undoubtedly the last thing Selatoh truly wanted to hear, yet there wasn’t anything anyone could do. The blackened, purple-red barrier around the castle was impenetrable, unless the person was willing to take severe damage and fall incurably ill. There was nothing else that could be done at this time…

. 

Everyone staggered back as a massive black and red dragon burst from under Hyrule castle. Terror rising as it became clear that Link was up there with only the dark colored dragon.

“What was that!?” Riju yelled, yanking her sword out of the ground, “What happened to Ganondorf?”

“It seems as if he swallowed his Sacred Stone.” Mineru clanked forward, “That's the only thing that could have happened.”

“And he turned into a dragon?” Yunobo scratched his head, “How does that work?”

“No one knows.” Mineru stood still, “However there are theories. The massive amounts of power and energy is seemingly the easiest answer.”

“Look! Is that the Light Dragon?” Selatoh's eyes hadn't left the air, “That one hasn't been seen for some time.” 

The settling silence was unnerving, as if Mineru didn't want to admit a harsh truth. Yet Sidon could see the wheels turning in Selatoh's mind, as could Tottika. 

“My Lady,” Tottika reached out, “There's hardly a thing we can do at the moment except wait.”

“There is one thing…”

“Do not!” Mineru turned, “There is no possible way to reverse the effects of draconification. There will never be a way to return to yourself. Nor will you have any memories of who you were. Nothing of yourself will remain.”

Sidon closed his fist over his Sacred Stone, staring at the soft glow from between his fingers. Riju, Yunobo, and Tulin looked around at the platoons of their people, none of them were willing to put their own through that. However, Selatoh rested her hand over Sidon's closed fist, obscuring the glow of his Stone. The pair locked eyes, knowing what wasn't being said.

“Link needs help.” Sidon sighed, “Someone has to-”

“No!” Mineru snapped, “There won't be a way to return you to yourself.”

“Sidon, let me do this instead.” Selatoh muttered, “The domain needs you, Yona needs you. I can-”

“Are either of you listening to me!?” Mineru attempted to wedge her bulky body between the two royal Zora, “You will lose everything that makes you who you are! There is no coming back from draconification!”

“I understand that.” Selatoh nodded, “And I'm willing to go through with it.”

“You shouldn't,” Sidon tried to pull his Stone away from Selatoh but her grip on his hand wasn't letting up, “I may be the King of the Zora, but I'm also the Water Sage. When Link has need of me, I must be there.”

“No, I should do it instead.” Selatoh insisted, “You have other responsibilities Sidon, but I can do this in your place.”

“No, you'll be needed in my place. The domain will be in good hands with you dear sister.”

“I cannot rule the way you do brother. Allow me to do this in your place. It's the least I can do.”

“It isn't your responsibility to do so Selatoh.” Sidon carefully pried her hand off his, “It's mine as the Water Sage.”

“And what if Link needs the Water Sage in the future?” Selatoh asserted, “If I turn into a dragon, then you can continue to watch the domain as the King while I watch the domain from afar. You needn’t do this.”

Mineru huffed, “You won't know a thing. That is quite literally impossible for you to keep this mindset.”

Turning to the large armor suit, Selatoh cocked her head, “Then could you explain Farosh, Dinraal, Naydra, and the Light dragon? They are peaceful, watching over Hyrule and have for longer than any of us could ever know. Except yourself Mineru. Even if I won't have any sense of self, I won't be dangerous after this.”

Mineru huffed again, “This is absolutely insane…”

“But I can't argue with your logic either. But if you're going to do this, then everyone needs to stand back.”

Selatoh nodded, Sidon still had his doubts however. Refusing to relinquish his Stone even as everyone else backed up, except Tottika; ever standing by his princess's side. 

“Sidon, I've made my choice.”

“Selatoh, this isn't-”

“I've stood back long enough Sidon!” Selatoh snapped, “I can't stand back any longer!”

“Selatoh…”

“No! Enough is enough!” Selatoh snagged Sidon's Sacred Stone, “I can't lose you the way we lost Mipha just because it's not my responsibility. I've had to stand back as you helped Link twice now! After what happened with Mipha, you can't begin to imagine what I've felt, how deeply I feared you wouldn’t return! I won't go through that again!”

Sidon's arms shook as he reached for his twin sister, this wasn't normal. As badly as he wanted to comfort her, talk her out of this, Sidon knew Selatoh wouldn't be reasoned with.

“Selatoh, please.” Tottika stepped forward, “There are other ways to help Sir Link than this. Please, no one needs to go through with draconification.”

Turning to Tottika, Selatoh frowned slightly, “I'm sorry. I have to do this.”

“SELATOH!” 

Both Sidon and Tottika rushed forward as she backed away, swallowing the stone quickly. The immense surge of raw power through her body sent Selatoh reeling. Stumbling over her own feet as the pain raced across her body, only just being able to turn to where everyone stood, staring. 

Selatoh's voice reached the two Zora, the only people closest to her as she uttered her last lucid statement, “I love you.”

Then in a blindingly red and gold light, an ear splitting roar filled the sky as a new dragon emerged from the spherical prism. Red as blood with Selatoh's markings lining the body, three stars across the familiar head crest; exactly where they had been in her Zora form. A frilly mane fanning out as if perpetually underwater, sparkly flecks of light raining down like glitter as the dragon ascended to the clouds. A thin and spindly beast twisting, coiling as she went.

Shaking, looking up at the newly formed, ferocious beast, Tottika held a hand over his mouth as he muttered her name. Sidon couldn't help but stare in disbelief as his sister, his twin sister, flew upward, straight at the black and red demonic looking dragon. 

It was the kind of nightmare one could only hope to wake up from…

Even as the memories of her life faded, Selatoh knew what she needed to do. Her instincts screaming to protect the land, to rid the skies of this demonic presence as she sunk razor sharp teeth into the dark, scaly hide. Massive droplets of blood dripping off her snout as she retreated, the ghastly wound oozing blood down its own tail. 

Link wasn't entirely certain of where this new dragon had come from, or if it was even friendly. What he did know was that it was fighting Ganondorf alongside himself and Zelda. Even as he hesitated in his trust given that this dragon was quite vicious, Link couldn't deny that it was doing quite a bit of damage to Ganondorf while he got his weapons ready. 

And yet, with Ganondorf's… or rather Sonia's Sacred Stone in hand, and Zelda returned to her Hylian form; Link worried about hitting the ground. Until the mysterious red and blue dragon swooped under them. There was something vaguely familiar about this dragon, what was it that Link couldn't put his finger on? It was almost maddening as they landed near Hyrule Castle. The calmness of the dragon was unsettling… even Zelda was caught off guard by how domestic this unknown dragon was acting. Until…

“SELATOH!”

Both Tottika and Sidon rushed forward to the dragon's snout, Sidon practically flinging himself onto its face. Tottika could barely bring himself to touch the dragon, but the soft way the snout met his hand sealed Link's mind. His eyes widened as he approached the dragon himself.

“Selatoh, why?” Link muttered, “Why?”

Mineru couldn't help but stand in awe, “I… I can't believe any of this. The Zora princess is still calm as a dragon and Zelda is back. How? How could the draconification process be reversed?”

“I have no idea…” Zelda shook her head, “I was certain that my own change was permanent, but-”

“It was the other Stones.” Link tore his eyes off the red dragon, “I- I don't know how to explain it but Rauru and Sonia's spirits appeared and between the three of us we were able to return you to normal Zelda. It was almost like an overpowered Recall ability.”

Sidon slid off the large snout, “Then we must hurry! Selatoh didn't change more than an hour ago, she might fly off if we wait for too long!”

Mineru sighed, “I don't know why she hasn't already, she should have left by now. Unless her instincts as a dragon haven't fully kicked in yet. But that can't be the case given how she was acting during the fight.”

Looking up at Selatoh, Link clenched his fist.

“We have to try. If all the Sages channel their power to Zelda we should be able to reverse Selatoh's transformation too.”

“But Link, I've never-!”

“Please Princess Zelda.” Sidon clutched both of her hands, “I may not have my Sacred Stone, but I will help in any way I can. I can't let my sister spend eternity as a dragon, if there's even a tiny chance to return her to normal.”

Riju stepped forward, “I agree, Selatoh only went through with this because she wanted to assist Link in the fight. If there's anything I can do to help, you have my Sacred Stone.”

“Yeah, I don't know much about this but if we can fix this I'm all for it.” Yunobo nodded, “Count me in!”

Tulin hopped over, “Let's do it then! We all believe you can Princess!”

Walking over calmly, Link rested a hand gently on Zelda's shoulder, the two locking eyes as they nodded. Something deep in Zelda burned brighter as she lifted her arm toward the red and blue dragon. 

A bright orb of light built up in her palm, her Sacred Stone glowing much brighter. One by one the other Sage's Stones began glowing as their hands glowed with the same light, even Sidon despite his lack of a Sacred Stone. Except for a bright dot in Selatoh's chest, where the Sacred Stone resided.

As the dot in her chest glowed brighter, it expanded to swallow Selatoh's form. Even as the clock-like runes enveloped the domeing light, it was clear the sphere of light was shrinking quickly. Breaking once the reversal process was completed, leaving a confused Selatoh holding the Sacred Stone in her palm. Looking frantically upward before turning her gaze to the crowd of people. The first to reach her was Tottika, who extended a hand to pull her to her feet. 

Meeting his eyes as she accepted the help up, Selatoh was cut off by Sidon nearly tackling her back to the ground. Selatoh couldn’t help but look away sheepishly, hiding against Sidon’s shoulder as the two shook from the sheer force of emotion coursing through the two of them. A million questions flew across Selatoh’s mind as she had believed there was no way to return. 

And yet, words failed her as Sidon finally relinquished her shoulders. Everything she had been through, the fading memories of the sheer power and mindlessness of her dragon form, having seen the entirety of her life flash before her eyes only a a short hour prior… 

All Selatoh could do was laugh. Her head thrown back as her while body shook with the force of her laughter. The overpowering emotion tearing its way out of her body through whatever avenue it could find. Tears streaming down her face before her laughter could even lower in volume in the slightest. No one around her knew what to do, not even Sidon. Only capable of letting Selatoh laugh and cry and hiccup herself into a quiet stupor as she stood there. Nothing left to express, no energy to even think about anything. Tottika moved to support her, guide her to an area of rest. 

Selatoh didn’t, couldn’t fight even if she had wanted to. Trudging alongside Tottika and eventually Bazz as the pair of Zora lead the frazzled Princess away. Leaving Sidon and Link to trot behind. Followed closely by the remainder of the Sages, their platoons, the mechanical Zonai, and Princess Zelda; the motley, triumphant, and exhausted crew shocking the researchers whom had fled into the underground bunker. Though their shock was short lived as recuperation procedures, hot meals and first aid, begun.

#zora oc #zora #legend of zelda botw #legend of zelda breath of the wild #legend of zelda oc #legend of zelda series #legend of zelda #legend of zelda tears of the kingdom #legend of zelda totk #loz tears of the kingdom #loz breath of the wild #loz totk #loz botw #loz #loz zora #loz oc #zora may

[daughter-of-melpomene]

𝐑𝐄-𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆… 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐇

❝ Contrary to the stories most people told, the Duchess of Mandalore was not the only future leader that Obi-Wan Kenobi had protected during his days as a Jedi Padawan. Lianna Singh, the young princess of Delmar, had also found herself under the steadfast protection of the apprentice and his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, shortly before she was to take over the rule of her planet from her father. Lianna was poised to be the first female ruler that Delmar had ever had, and as such was in constant danger from rebel groups furious at the reins of their planet being handed over to a "mere woman". King Ranjeet, fearing for his beloved daughter's safety, had pleaded with the Jedi Council to provide Lianna with the best protection the galaxy had to offer, and after Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon's success in keeping the Mandalorian duchess safe, the Council saw fit to appoint them as the princess's temporary bodyguards.

From the very moment she met Obi-Wan, Lianna was drawn to the young Jedi-in-training. Aside from his silken voice and obvious good looks, she couldn't help but admire how intelligent he was, how observant and loyal and prepared to do anything to uphold the Jedi code and properly complete his mission. And though he was reluctant to admit it, knowing that feelings such as these were against all he had been taught, the Padawan took notice of Lianna as well. Everything about the future queen, from her sharp eyes to her sparkling laugh to the fierce love she had for her family and her people, drew him in, as if there was an invisible string connecting the two young idealists, loosening as it gently tugged them closer to each other.

As the months before Lianna's coronation flew by, and Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon thwarted attempt after attempt to end the princess's life and stop her reign as queen before it could begin, Lianna and Obi-Wan continued to grow closer. Before long, short, formal conversations and longing looks when one thought the other wasn't looking became hushed dialogues about everything and nothing, and long talks held in Lianna's midnight-dark quarters. Soft, subtle touches were exchanged when they passed each other, and secret smiles when no one was watching the two became as commonplace as breathing.

But all good things must come to an end, and so it was when Lianna was finally crowned queen of Delmar and given the full force of her father's former personal guard. With Obi-Wan and his Master no longer needed, the young Jedi was forced to take his leave, the last soft kiss Lianna had pressed to his cheek still burning as he watched Delmar grow small and disappear from the window of their leaving starship.

It would be years before the two saw each other again - years in which so many things changed. Obi-Wan was forced to watch his mentor be killed in front of him, becoming a Jedi Knight and mentor to a powerful young boy before he was truly ready for the responsibility. Lianna sat on Delmar's throne, ruling fairly and kindly and eventually winning over even her harshest critics. However, despite the urging of her advisors to marry and produce an heir for the kingdom, Lianna could never bring herself to find a man to be her king consort, just as Obi-Wan fought to shut off the feelings that had allowed him to fall in love with Lianna in the first place. Neither of them ever truly recovered from their all-too-brief time spent together, or the pain they had felt when it ended.

But it would seem fate is on the side of these two lovers, because now that the Clone Wars have started to rage, Lianna had finally taken her father's place in the Galactic Senate, throwing her into Obi-Wan's path once again. The queen loves her Jedi just as much as ever... but after fighting to close off his heart for so many years, Obi-Wan is reluctant to let Lianna in again.

These two souls may have started out star-crossed, but now their situation seems much worse. The stars in their paths are tangled, thrown together in a mess of glittering love and silver light, and it remains to be seen whether the string that pulled Lianna and Obi-Wan together in the first place can ever be untangled. ❞

General Taglist: @hiddenqveendom, @foxesandmagic, @artemisocs, @reyofluke-ocs, @endless-oc-creations, @stanshollaand, @ginnystilinski-reblogs, @luucypevensie, @ginger-grimm, @arrthurpendragon, @fakedatings, @impales, @claryxjackson, @dancingsunflowers-ocs, @eddysocs, @lucys-chen, @ocappreciationtag. (Also tagging @thechaoticfanartist.)

#my ocs #reintroducing my ocs #ch: lianna singh #oc: lianna singh #fic: a thousand years #queerocs #fyeahocsofcolor #ocapp #ocappreciation #ochub #allaboutocs #fyeahstarwarsocs #star wars oc

[maverickbackalley]

i need to hear you talk about krisnix

What why? I'm totally normal about them ahahahahahhaha..haha.. 😞

Okay so I don't waste hours of my time (Future Mav: LIAR) and yours: I love them, your honour. It's not a relationship anyone should put up with in real life so there is a shock and appeal to their dynamic that none of the other main ships can offer. Krisnix ooze venom, animosity, and this indescribable tension that's fascinating to see blossom in these two powerhouse attorney's dynamic. The pair is just so damn diabolical, manipulative, and ideally comes with so much psychological horror that makes you question your own sanity and realise how quickly you would lose the game if you were swapped out with either of them. Underneath it all though, Krisnix is basically a pathetic pissing contest between two cunning individuals and that's stupid enjoyable for me to watch from the sidelines. I love how many different routes people can take with their actual romantic relationship too. Is it all an act? Rivals with benefits? Do they care about each other? Are they just keeping their enemies close and maybe at some point took the saying a little too literally?? Are there genuine feelings there after 7 years and one or both of them absolutely hate themselves for it??? So many possibilities and it's so riveting to think about. Like, 7 years is a LONG TIME to put up with someone purely out of spite. These idiots routinely ate dinner together in canon for crying out loud! Neither of them seem the type to happily put up with that with zero gain or case development for that long. (For my own reference: My longest relationship was almost 8 years and while it feels like no time at all looking back in the present, if I sit down and truly dissect it so much positive and negative change and development took place during that timeframe that it's actually quite jarring. I think that's one of the things that makes it hard for me to believe that nothing happened between them.) Kristoph is such an enigma and so full of sinister potential that his clash with an established bleeding heart like Phoenix is so compelling. I honestly have a hard time describing their appeal and always feel like there is more that I just.. can't quite put into words. So hopefully even an ounce of this makes a lick of sense outside of my head.

On the flip side, I will say I'm not the biggest fan of every portrayal of the ship. I feel like some people lean too heavy on physical domestic abuse (not talking BDSM. I don't want it misconstrued that I see these as one and the same since I believe there is also a large chunk of BDSM!krisnix out there) and completely neglect the brilliant minds at play. Or focus too much on making Phoenix an absolute pushover like he's too dumb to catch on to even the bare minimum attempts of Kristoph manipulating him. To be honest, some of these feels like throwing Dahlia-era Phoenix at Kristoph and it's like.. hmmm.... noooo. He's not that same person if you're writing for Beanix. I think that would probably be my personal gripes with the pairing if I had to be critical of it. There is a fine balance to their dynamic that's hard to capture, in my opinion. Like I don't even feel I could properly do them justice outside of memeing it up. Which is partially why I haven't done any real art for the pair despite them being one of my personal favourite and being all too aware that they have little to no content. They are like the definition of "It's Complicated" and I love canonically knowing how the story starts and ends. But that 7-year gap is just a juicy wealth of knowledge soup that I and others can throw whatever the fuck we want into it and boy does almost every spoonful taste delicious.

...Well that was more than I expected to write. ENJOY. Feel free to let me know your krisnix thoughts as well!

#asks #roundhousekickingheight #ask game #thanks for the ask! #krisnix #hopefully that wasn't disappointing since two of y'all asked for my take :') #Open to giving my opinions on other ships still but they definitely won't be this long I'm sorry pfft #ace attorney #aa #kristoph gavin #phoenix wright #beanix

[yourchemicallyimbalancedromance]

Checkmate

Ship: Anxceit (Whumpee!Virgil, Whumper!Janus)

CW/TW: (be aware that what I am about to describe is not censored.) graphic themes and descriptions of violence, this includes: forcing someone to relapse with self injury, allusion to past self harm, cutting someone with a knife, mind games/emotional abuse, malnourishment/starvation, talk of weight in numbers, themes of suicide and suicidal ideation (this is pretty detailed, you have been warned.)

Summary: After Virgil joins the light sides, Janus slowly reaches a psychotic break due to abandonment and feelings of betrayal and takes it upon himself to take Virgil back to where he belongs, via kidnapping him and holding him in the dark side of the mind palaces basement, AKA the subconscious.

A/N: this is my first time writing Whump, so If anything feels rushed or misplaced please understand that I am a beginner to writing these kinds of things. I am personally not open to (constructive) criticism—I am really sensitive when it comes to things I’m passionate about 😭—so please, let me learn at my own pace if things do need to be changed around a bit, thank you!<3

(I’m editing this at 12:44 AM because I can’t sleep so, uh, surprise oneshot release I guess? Idk 😭🙏🏻)

———————————————————————

Janus’ eyes glimmered as he stared at the rusty chains that were around Virgil’s wrists, the ones keeping him shackled against the wall of the basement, leaving his arms raised up in the air and his legs crisscrossed beneath him. Virgil’s head had fallen against his chest in defeat after trying to scream into the dark abyss for help again, quickly realizing that his pleas wouldn’t be heard with the muffling of a rag in his mouth.

His lower jaw poked at his collarbones with horrendous uncomfortability from the consequences of malnourishment. He was already relatively small—around 115 pounds or so—and the past few days without food were weighing on him. His bones protruded like knives against his skin. You could see the outline of his collarbones to his shoulder blades through his torn up band tee. His bangs—or what was left of them—had fallen over his eyes, keeping him from seeing Janus whose gaze had shifted to Virgils face, eerily delighted.

Virgil thrashed his head around—though in reality more like hazily bobbed it in circles—trying his hardest to spit out the aforementioned rag that Janus had put there after his lazy attempt at being noticed by the others on the second day of his kidnapping. On the first, Janus had knocked him out hard enough to where he drifted in and out of consciousness, leaving Janus enough time to chain him up without a struggle. Despite the chains, he actually thought he could trust Virgil to not scream for help. He was wrong, hence, the rag.

It had now been five and a half days since his initial kidnapping, and the light sides seemed to have gone off of the deep end…almost. Patton had shut down, preventing himself from feeling any kind of emotion due to the fact that if he even shed one tear, it would lead to a messy and disgusting breakdown. Logan wouldn’t come out of his room for anything at all, as he was drowning himself in as much work as possible, writing and re-writing scripts even if he thought they were already pristine and perfect as was, he needed something to keep himself from flying off the hinges. And Roman was…quiet, withdrawn. He wasn’t his usual ego-centric self anymore, he was timid, almost like a ghost or a shell of who he once was. You could practically call him a people-pleaser. All of them had their own ways of grasping for the tiniest bit of control they had left, and it was shocking to see what came out of it.

But Virgil couldn’t comprehend any of this as Janus updated him on it day by day, Janus’ way of slowly ripping Virgils freshly acquired healthy emotional state apart by using his new “found family” as a means of revenge for the gaping would of abandonment Virgil had left him with. Hell, between Virgils drug induced haze and all the sheer sharp pain searing throughout his body, he could barely comprehend where he was. But one thing stopped him from forgetting his new surroundings completely, and that was Janus.

Janus leaned down and took Virgil’s face in his hands roughly, forcing Virgil to look him in the eyes. Virgil’s eyes were dim and worn out, as if he wasn’t all there, like he was somewhere else in his head. He looked so, so very tired. It was almost thrilling for Janus. Virgil had always been one to get lost in his head as a way of coping with things that were out of his control.

“I think,” Janus hissed, the sound full of no-longer suppressed anger and a slight tinge of fear over the fact that Virgil could have been found had he not noticed his pitiful cries when he did a few days ago, “we should play a game.”

The small lightbulb that hung from a loose wire (seemingly appearing from thin air, there was no way to tell where the lightbulbs origin came from) between them illuminated the human side of Janus’ face harshly, putting the crazed look in his eyes on display for only Virgil to see. It felt like Janus could see into his soul, read his thoughts, know every gritty detail of everything that he had ever done down to the way he breathed whilst doing it, just by staring at him.

Virgil’s eyes narrowed as Janus’ thumb ran over his busted lip. If it weren’t for the rag stuffed in his mouth to muffle his cries for help, he would have bit it clean off. Instead, he let the small amount of fury left in him ignite behind his eyes as he stared into Janus’, not moving any longer. He was confused and scared, and when those things were combined, it usually turned into anger. Rage, even. But It was as if the moment Janus touched him, he froze on impact.

“What do you think?” Janus prompted, hand still firmly on Virgil’s jaw. His voice may have been smooth, but his grasp stayed there to show control.

Janus smiled at the incoherent sounds coming from behind the bloodied rag. He laughed to himself, amused by the struggle. “Ah, I forgot about your little…predicament.” He ribbed, pulling out the soaking rag with ease.

Virgil inhaled harder than he’d ever before, taking in as much oxygen as possible. It had been days since that rag had been placed there; a precaution so that were the search for Thomas’ anxiety to continue and a meeting be pursued once more, they wouldn’t hear much from upstairs. Virgil winced a bit at the memory of Janus’ footsteps quickly echoing throughout the basement and walking up to him. (“tsk, I thought you would’ve been smart enough to know not to scream. Here, let me help you with that.” He had said, hastily shoving a clean rag forcefully into his mouth, rendering Virgil silent; mostly because of fear but also because of shock. He had absolutely no clue why Janus was doing any of this.) It also didn’t help that the dark mind palaces basement was usually hot and stuffy already, which made the struggle to breathe worse; especially if you had to rely on only breathing through your nose, which was broken, meaning the little oxygen he could muster wasn’t enough, leading him to pass out only a few minutes after regaining consciousness, over and over and over again over the past 84 hours.

“Let…go of…me.” Virgil demanded, panting. He struggled against his chains, trying to wriggle his way out of them. His wrists ached as they strained against the cuffs around them.

Janus grabbed Virgils arms firmly, chains rattling, rag dripping blood and saliva down Virgil’s right arm. “No need for that, sweetheart. I’m not going to hurt you again. Not yet.”

His lips curled upwards slightly at the fear that shocked through Virgil at such simple words. He watched as the hair on Virgil’s arms began to stick up, his arms covered in goosebumps. It was absolutely hilarious to Janus that Virgil had no clue what was coming at any given moment.

Virgil could put on a defiant act all he wanted, but his body would always show how he truly felt: Afraid, Horrified, Helpless.

It was a beautiful sight to see someone at the mercy of his actions considering he had always felt helpless against the others, it was nice to feel in control for once. …And also quite pathetic how hard Virgil tried to stop him from achieving that feeling of powerfulness.

“How about a game of chess?” Janus suggested, throwing the rag to the ground, sounding more demanding than anything else. His nails dug deep into Virgil’s wrists, letting him know that if he didn’t answer correctly, there would be consequences. Though, from all of the times he’d seen Virgils eyes light up from winning against Logan in a Chess match, he knew he would probably say yes anyway. Not that Virgil knew that he knew that.

That sparkle in his eyes. It was almost as if Virgil felt like he could finally do something right.

In Virgils drug addled mind, something…clicked. Chess? Since when did Janus know that he had gotten good at Chess? Unless he was…

his eyes almost brimmed with tears at the thought of such an invasive act,

Watching him.

Despite such a heart dropping realization, Virgil nodded, slowly. Even though it had only been a few days, he was numb to any minor pain Janus inflicted upon him anymore. If it wasn’t worth bleeding, it wasn’t worth focusing on, or atleast that’s the mindset he was set on adapting to get through this. Who knew how long Janus would keep him here? how long this would last? But the pressure against his wrists served as a warning, so he gave Janus the answer he wanted. Or so he thought.

The pressure increased as Janus dug his nails deeper, pricking the pale skin a bit. “You speak when you’re spoken to, Virgil.” he ordered, “Or do I need to remind you?” he asked, nodding towards the blood stained knife on the floor; A reminder of Virgils previous mistakes.

Virgil shook his head frantically, “No, no, you don’t” he begged, mouth still tasting of metal from where he was forced to lick up his own blood from the cuts up and down his arm. “A chess game sounds nice, really.”

Janus hummed, satisfied with Virgils response. “Perfect. Well then, I suppose I should explain the rules.” He dropped Virgil’s arms and let them fall into place with the chains, then summoned a chess set and sat it on the ground next to the knife, eyeing the way Virgil tried to breathe in a rhythmic pattern. He really didn’t think he was getting out of this. How glorious.

“If I win, we pick up where we left off last night,” Janus recited, hinting back to only ten hours ago when he was burying a knife deep into Virgils arm. “If you win, I may dress your wounds properly this time.” he watched Virgil as his eyes closed and snapped back open time and time again, barely taking in anything Janus was saying. He was sleep deprived, Janus was sure of it. He had already planned this out ahead of time, so the results were finally setting in. Janus had dissolved a few…”unknown sleeping pills” into Virgils drink the night before after Janus had his fun with the sharpest knife blade he could find, making sure Virgil was extremely drowsy and paranoid, but not too drowsy and paranoid, because otherwise, what’s the fun in that?

Oh, and the “sleeping pills” were actually Janus’ antipsychotics, but Virgil didn’t need to know that.

He kept Virgil awake for two and a half days straight, slicing open the old wounds on his arms. Turning the faded self inflicted cuts into newer, deeper, non-self inflicted ones. Sometimes he forced Virgil to do it himself as he watched, making him restart if there wasn’t enough blood for his liking. Virgil deserved this for leaving him, so the least he could do was cause a bloody mess.

Janus hoisted Virgil up and carefully unlocked the cuffs on his wrists with a small key from his pocket, holding him as his body gave out against Janus’.

Even through the fog of Virgils mental state, and the amount of adrenaline pumping through his veins, and the exhaustion that crept up on him so suddenly over the past few days, he was cognizant enough to understand that not being able to stand up on his own two feet was humiliating. The weakness and feebleness of his body and state of mind were meant to make him feel humiliated. And unfortunately for him, it was working. Janus was succeeding.

Janus, using this as a moment to exert power over his captive, whispered in his ear. “Bring your all, Virgil.”

Virgil vaguely acknowledged the phrase as something Patton would say to him before every match. Eyes glistening, like a proud father-figure. (“You did great last time Virge! Logan was so mad that you won against him that when you left to go back to your room to listen to that PG-13 music, he used one of those slang words the kids use these days. I can’t remember exactly what it was...I think it started with a C? I don’t know, but I’m so proud of you!” Patton had said, so joyous and amazed. Virgil had given him a half-smile and shrugged it off as Patton just being Patton.)

Virgil almost started sobbing then and there; finally feeling a wave of emotion crash over him other than rage and terror for the first time in what felt like forever, but in actuality had only been a few days. A few tears slipped past him, leaving behind a trembling lip in their wake. He clung to Janus for some sort of sick comfort, Janus being the only thing he had right now, even if he was the one causing all of this.

Janus tensed and snickered, pulling away from Virgil and yanking him to the ground, looking down at him through fiery eyes. “Don’t be so emotional already, we’ve barely even started” he rubbed his arms with his hands as if Virgils mere touch had deemed his upper arms distasteful, “and don’t cling to me like that again, it’s disgusting.”

Virgil wiped at his tears obediently, trying to put on a blank face for his captor. He just wanted to go back home. To sit with Patton and Roman and make homemade hot chocolate while bickering over the appeal of the newest Disney shows. His chest hurt, likely from the drugs and blood loss, but also likely because of his longing for his actual family, not whatever this was. Whatever it used to be.

Janus sat down on the opposite side of the board, and slowly removed his gloves, placing them next to him on top of each other and started setting up the pieces.

“Let the game begin.” He stated after a few moments had passed and the board had been properly set up, prompting Virgil to move his first piece.

Virgil reached out reluctantly, placing one of the pieces further on the checkered board. Almost knocking it over as he pulled his hand away as fast as he could, not wanting to be close to Janus.

Janus smirked, noticing this, as he placed one of his pieces further on the board aswell. Deep down, he was hurt by Virgils need to stay as a far as possible, however. Not that it mattered, he could always punish Virgil for that little stunt of emotion later down the line.

This back and forth continued for at least twenty-five minutes, before Virgil could feel the walls closing in around him. He looked at the board in desperation, praying to God that maybe, just maybe if he stared long enough the pieces would maneuver themselves to where he could win.

It didn’t happen.

Janus had him stuck, unable to move without getting defeated. In this sick game, and in real life. It was as if Janus was making a mockery of his own doings.

Virgil moved the piece on the board with a shakey hand, trembling from the dread of what he knew was to come, and looked up at Janus; fear evident in his eyes.

Janus took a breath and moved his piece in front of Virgils quickly, as if he had been waiting for this moment his whole life.

“Checkmate, Virge.”

Virgil stared at the board, filled with shame and regret. He used to be a pro at Chess, and now he was watered down to this. He couldn’t meet Janus’ burning gaze as he stared at him from across the board. Any glint of hope for his future here that he had behind his eyes had been crushed and faded away completely. He was certain that he was going to die here before Patton or any of the others found him. And if he didn’t die, it would become so bad that he would beg Janus to make him do it to get it over with.

Janus got up and pulled Virgil to his feet, clasping the cuffs around his wrists again, not willing to waste any time, taking notice of the newfound compliance.

Janus laughed a little as he picked up the knife, running a finger over the blade. “You know, I really thought you would have been good at that,” he placed the base of the blade on Virgil’s arm and began to drag it agonizingly slow. “I guess it just goes to show that you really are incompetent.”

He watched the blood drip down Virgils forearm, “what a shame, really. You probably would have gone on to be a real good player,” he teased, “probably even better than Logan. I mean I saw the way that blood vessel in his head almost popped from stress and frustration during your match a week or so ago.”

Janus watched as Virgil grit his teeth so hard he thought he would break them from trying not to scream. The confession and the pain were almost too much emotional and psychical trauma for Virgil to bear.

Janus ran a finger over the fresh cuts, looking up at Virgil with nothing but malice in his eyes. “Too bad you’re stuck here now, you really could have been something.”

“Please…please, I’ll do anything, please just make it stop!!” Virgil whimpered, actually thrashing now, a drastic difference from what he had meant to do earlier. He couldn’t handle it anymore, it was all starting to dawn on him. He wasn’t getting out of here. He wasn’t getting out.

“Keep begging, it’s not like I’m going to stop. You’re selfish, that’s all you are. You think you can leave me to pick up the pieces of your abandonment and expect not to face the consequences? I don’t think so.” Janus threatened, slapping Virgil’s arm, causing stinging pain to shoot its way through him. He took the knife back to Virgils skin, digging deeper into the wounds he already created, using his rage as a source to block out the cries of his former best friend. Virgil used to be like a brother to him, but none of that mattered now. This was Virgils fault, he chose this.

Virgil’s hands curled into loose fists with the little energy he had left within himself, desperately trying to wrap his head around Janus’ reasoning but ultimately failing to be able to think of anything due to the hot and awful pain that washed upon him every few seconds. That was why Janus was doing this? His acceptance? He let out animalistic sobs every time the blade met his flesh. None of it made sense. His head hurt and all he wanted was to drop to his knees and bleed out, leaving himself a cold shell of a person. Anything but this. Anything but this. As much as he loved the others, he wanted anything but this.

Eventually, Janus dropped the knife on the floor, blood splattering in every direction. He was tired, and Virgil was beginning to pass out which meant that the fun wouldn’t be able to last any longer. After all, it’s no fun torturing someone when you can’t see the outcome of your work.

He flicked his wrist and summoned a small baggie of crushed up antipsychotic medication and a glass of water, carefully pouring it into the glass in front of his captive. It didn’t matter if Virgil saw what he was doing, what could he do about it? Absolutely nothing.

“Open your mouth.” He instructed sternly. Virgil listened and he tilted the glass back with precision, making sure no droplets of water fell down Virgils face and on to the ground.

Janus set the glass down beside him, “don’t say I never did anything for you” he mumbled, turning on his heel and heading back upstairs to the commons as if nothing had happened.

Janus’ footsteps slowly faded and a door opened. Virgil could hear Remus cackling in the distance, and even though he didn’t exactly know what was so funny, it was presumable that it was about the state of his family. The others were falling apart with the lack of him being around, or that was at least as far as he knew with the “help” of Janus.

Virgil let his legs give out from underneath him and curled in on himself as best he could, searching for the warmth of his own body heat, not necessarily because he was cold, but because he was desperate to feel the warmth of a comforting presence, even if that meant it had to be himself.

He tried to ignore the throbbing pain in his arms by thinking of Patton. Sweet, tender and kind, Patton. Patton who was always there when he had night terrors and was screaming for help, crawling into Virgils bed and cradling him gently until he was conscious enough to know what had happened, and then staying until he fell back asleep. Patton who always let him hold on to his shoulders when the panic attacks got so bad he couldn’t stand upright because he was so dizzy. Patton who always had a cheesy dad joke no matter the severity of the situation. Patton.

It hurt more than any of the psychical pain combined to miss him. He would rather die right now than miss such a sweet soul. If Patton were here, he would have bandaged him up so gently he would have barely even felt it, while humming softly to distract Virgil from the fear and uncertainty burrowing deep in his stomach.

Tears fell down his face as his eyelids finally fluttered close, not being disturbed by a jarring malicious voice ready for revenge. He could finally sleep.

Though, how do you sleep peacefully knowing you’ll probably never get out of a nightmare?

#sanders sides whump #whump #anxceit #sort of moxiety? #unsympathetic janus #janus sanders #ts janus #ts deceit #virgil sanders #ts virgil #ts anxiety #patton sanders #ts patton #ts morality #Whumper Janus #Whumpee Virgil

[droughtofapathy]

The Gilded Age's Broadway Divas: Susan Blane (Laura Benanti)

Newly widowed Susan Blane has one purpose on this show, and apparently it's to get railed by a younger man and then get chased off by his mother and have her heart broken. Again. And then we never see her again. The end. Justice for Susan.

Now, I will preface this by saying that Laura Benanti lands outside my scope of interest--she's a little young for my tastes. However, I've always been amused and delighted by her performances, and I appreciate how raunchy she is, even if the quirkyness can be a bit...much at times. Laura is a five-time Tony nominee who won in 2008 for her role as Louise in Gypsy alongside Patti LuPone.

Starting off young, Laura Benanti made her Broadway debut at eighteen as the understudy to the late great Rebecca Luker's Maria in The Sound of Music, and eventually replaced her. She's had roles as Cinderella in Into the Woods (2002), Candela in Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown, and Eileen Sherwood in the Encores! Wonderful Town opposite Donna Murphy, our beloved Mrs. Astor.

#1: "Wouldn't it be Loverly?" My Fair Lady (2018)

Lincoln Center is soprano territory. As one of the classical soprano dying breeds, Laura took over the role of Eliza Doolittle from Lauren Ambrose in the recent Broadway Revival. Her Eliza was older than most (Laura was on the cusp of forty when the took the role), and a delight, I must say. This show is, of course, a classic, and as such is dated like a classic. The production did attempt to give Eliza more agency, and it seemed to go over fine.

As Susan Blane spends most of her time in the white clothing of Newport, I just kept thinking about the Ascot Gavotte the entire time. The ladies of Newport would fit right in at the racetrack.

Fellow soprano Kelli O'Hara has also played this role in a different Lincoln Center theater back in 2007.

#2: "Model Behavior," Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown (2011)

A critical failure despite its stellar cast, this show closed in less than three months, but nevertheless earned Laura a Tony nomination and a Drama Desk. Watching this masterclass of a breakdown, you can see why. Set in 80s Spain, the show features Candela, played by Laura, who's freaking out because her romantic interest might be a terrorist. But other than that, he's perfect. She sure knows how to pick 'em...

Tension behind the scenes between leading lady Sherie Rene Scott and Diva Patti LuPone made things a little...well. Anyway.

#3: Laura Benanti & The Skivvies - Passion Massion (2014)

So, I'm gonna be honest, I was going to go with a different Skivvies video, but then I saw Sexy Fosca, and I am baffled, horrified, and delighted.

The Skivvies is a hilarious cabaret group that performs, as you can imagine, in their underwear, and they have guest singers come on, also dressed in lingerie and other underthings. Most of their guest singers are working theatre actors, but sometimes we get Laura Benanti. She was a Skivvies regular for a time, and has a collection of comedic clips you can all enjoy on your own time.

#4: "Vanilla Ice Cream," She Loves Me (2015)

Broadway sopranos pass around roles like hot potatoes. Kelli O'Hara played Amalia Balash in the 2001 concert, and while some members of the cast transferred to Broadway five years later, Kelli was already in The King and I, and since Broadway has like four sopranos of this age that they rotate around, enter Laura Benanti. Though the show and her role was largely overshadowed by a little show called Hamilton that season, the production has a PBS proshot I'd recommend watching.

She Loves Me is yet another adaptation of an early 30s Hungarian play that was also the inspiration for You've Got Mail, so if you've seen that, you know the plot of this. (Side note: Gilded Age's Katie Finneran had a small role as Maureen, the Nanny who runs off with the kids' mother(?) I've never seen it, and that plot wasn't in the musical.)

#5: "So Many People," Saturday Night (2010)

If you thought we were going to get through Laura Benanti without a Sondheim, guess again. While Audra McDonald and Donna Murphy were part of the Ladies in Red, Laura Benanti instead gave us the other oft-sung cabaret number of Saturday Night in the Joanna Gleason dress, only reversed in color. Look it up and you'll see what I mean.

Laura was the last person to perform before the Ladies in Red segment, and thus isn't often remembered. But I remember. (Incidentally, "I Remember" is the song she sang for the Sondheim 90th.)

LINK TO MASTERPOST

#the gilded age #susan blane #laura benanti #sondheim #she loves me #my fair lady #women on the verge of a nervous breakdown #broadway #musical theatre

[balanceoflightanddark]

Avatar and the Unwillingness to Grow Up

First and foremost, Avatar the Last Airbender is a show that is geared towards children.

Yes, I know that is a staggering reality check amidst all the talk of genocide, warfare, abuse, heavy topics, and whatnot. But it was ultimately written and directed to appeal to kids and teens. It features kid heroes having adventures to stop the bad guy and save the world. That's practically a mark of the genre.

And the term "kids' show" is usually used to deflect criticism because of it and the follow-ups (the comics and Legend of Korra).

Here's the thing though: Avatar the Last Airbender appealed to a larger audience because it was still good despite being meant for children. The characters were well written. The action was well executed. And the plot, despite its shortcomings, was still ahead of their time.

It wasn't that ATLA is a kids' show that is causing problems for the franchise as a whole moving forward.

More it's the fact that the franchise seems unwilling to grow up and mature.

Let me try to explain: ATLA's audience aren't kids anymore. They are adults who grew up, graduated, got jobs, and so on. And they're not gonna be younger any time soon. That doesn't mean they still can't enjoy the original series, but subsequent installments need to reflect this. Otherwise, they're gonna be left in the dust. This is something all children's media faces: either they focus on the target demographic or they branch out and touch more "mature" topics.

Either one is fine, but when a series focuses on pretty heavy topics like Avatar, you do need to step up your game if you want to stay relevant. That's what they attempted to do with the comics and LOK.

They didn't do them well.

This had its roots back in the original series with the demonizing and whitewashing of various characters (like Iroh and Azula for example). Again, this was fine since the main heroes were kids so their view of the world is gonna be immature, and the Fire Nation (despite being humanized) were ultimately the bad guys that needed to be stopped. Even Zuko's ascension to the throne, while it wouldn't automatically solve everything like the narrative insists it would, isn't as bad since they left a lot of wiggle room with how his reign may go. So the effect wasn't as bad.

It's just without a clear bad guy anymore, without some monster that needs to be slain...we start to have problems. Now suddenly the Gaang are thrust into trying to mediate world peace, but they fail to do so. Badly. They view people as being either good or evil, no in-between, even when the situation and circumstance says otherwise. The Fire Nation is good now, everyone who says otherwise is evil. Zuko is in charge, so screw everyone who has a problem with his rule (even though the reign we see is pretty disastrous). For said arbitrators of peace, they don't do a whole lot of compromise and seem to carry on with exactly what they were doing during the War. Even when the situation is delicate and requires a bit more tact without throwing elements at bad guys.

Same thing with Legend of Korra. Despite being about heavy topics on paper with no clear good or bad guys, the narrative always takes one side, demonizes the other, and never goes into detail about how the situation is to be resolved aside from "bad guys defeated". Which, again, is a pretty childish way of looking at the world.

It's this unwillingness to mature, this belief that they still need to adhere to the same tools they used in ATLA is what is causing problems for the franchise as a whole. This is frustrating since they have the characters and themes in place already which could propel the franchise to new heights and sophisticated storytelling. And the characters suffer for it. The unwillingness to change their child-like view of the world despite supposedly knowing better makes it seem like the writers are coddling them and appealing to nostalgia instead of developing them and making them stronger.

And the more stories they tell with this mindset is gonna get worse over time stuff until we get stuff like-

...yeah. I went there. The authors' unwillingness for Peter Parker to change and actually learn about taking responsibility and making hard choices is what led to awful storylines like this.

And I'm afraid that if Bryke wants ATLA to go mainstream, yet still insists on having a childish narrative that is neither appropriate or respectful of the characters they seem intent on coddling, then we're gonna get crap like this if we haven't already.

I'm not against having a good guy vs bad guy narrative. What I am against is stories, themes, and characters getting dumbed down to fit that mold. If characters like Azula keep getting shoved into the role of bad guy even if it's not appropriate, and the heroes continue to insist that everyone who is against them are irredeemably evil, then the series isn't going to change.

And with the audience getting older yet the heroes never growing up, who's gonna bother with the further adventures of the Gaang since they can't relate to them anymore?

#atla critical #atla comics critical #anti atla comics #atla meta #gaang critical #character stagnation #black and white morality #and problems with it #avatar studios

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

The closer the moon, the stronger the magic. That simple phrase was something his fellows had often whispered in his ears as far back as the first Becoming. And there was truth to it, Mistoffelees supposed. He never felt as at peace with himself in this body as he did while bathed in the full bellied moonlight on the slated roofs of the city. There was a brief sense of satisfactory quiet that would come alongside its light that he looked forward to, as though - for a brief moment - he weren't failing in every aspect of the word. The quiet was a salve, of sorts; a chance to regroup and perhaps even attempt his rest.

"I had a feeling I'd find you up here."

Or at least it had been a chance.

"You really must stop sneaking up on me, Rum Tum Tugger," Mistoffelees deadpans, feeling a twisted sort of satisfaction at the annoyance he feels radiating from the other at the use of his full title. "Lest you wish to be sautéed."

"Ha ha, that's so funny," the other tom mutters in return, slinking forward to sit just within Mistoffelees' personal bubble of space, seemingly ignoring the way he was being watched. Mistoffelees observes that, despite his boldness and constant envelope pushing, even Tugger knew to draw a line somewhere. "I only serve well stuffed and basted, you know."

Seems, however, he was still learning where that appropriate somewhere was. 

The Maine Coon sighs as his "joke" (that's what he calls them: jokes, even when they are not amusing or proper) falls flat on its face - not even a cracked smile. He resigns to pulling at the chains that decorate his collar, but he keeps staring at the other tom, as though trying to puzzle out the misaligned tilt of his melting features. "And, please, stop calling me Rum Tum Tugger."

"Why?" Mistoffelees asks, feigning innocence, of all things. It feels strange, fizzing under the roof of his mouth, as if it knew it didn't belong anywhere near his tongue. "It is your name, is it not?"

"No," Tugger counters, too quickly it seems, as he immediately scrambles to correct himself. Mistoffelees takes careful note of this. "I mean yes it is, but it's for, like, when I'm in trouble, or being superficially adored, not…"

Mistoffelees also notes how he trails off, but more specifically where he trails off. Much to his nature, however, he cares very little to pursue the issue. For now, at least. 

"Anyway, Mr. Mistoffelees," he continues, nonplussed, flopping to his belly. "Why are you here?"

Mistoffelees rolls his eyes, the whites slightly too prominent in the glow of the moon. "In the end, why are any of us here?"

Tugger's nose wrinkles. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Do I know it?" This liberal misplaced innocence in his damned mouth is beginning to numb the skin of his teeth, but he must admit it was amusing to counter his annoyance. He deserves it - a treat, if he may be so bold, for being stuck in this place.

Tugger does not continue his childish retort, as expected. Instead, he continues his critical deconstruction of the side of Mistoffelees' paper thin skull. "You remind me of my dad."

Mistoffelees feels himself frowning before he can stop it. Not so much offended as he is…confused at the change in direction. "How so?"

"You both speak in riddles so you can avoid actually talking about things." He says this plainly, as though the observation was obvious. Mistoffelees suddenly feels…uneasy.

"I see."

Tugger grins, full and even, free of any previous irritation. That was one thing about The Rum Tum Tugger: he did not dwell on anything too long. A flaw or an admirable trait, Mistoffelees was still figuring. "Trying to get me to learn my own lessons, are you?"

"The beast who is burned does not approach the flame twice," Mistoffelees recites, feeling the empty words rattle in their cliché. "Would you not prefer to come to your own conclusions independently rather than rely on another's distorted perspective?"

"It's just nice to get a straight answer every once in a while, isn't it?"

And that was another thing about The Rum Tum Tugger - he composed symphonies from singular notes; gave infinite information with one sentence. Managed to nail the simplest of points down with such precision, he might have made a decent archer in a past life.

Mistoffelees ponders this. Teach the beast and he will flee. Feed the beast and he will come back. 

It slices a touch too close to the bone for his tastes.

"So," Tugger tries again, cutting through his thoughts. "What's going on with you?"

Mistoffelees turns fully to the other tom, peering at him from the depths below. "What are you doing, Tugger?"

"I'm trying," Tugger says, deliberately dragging his words, looking at him directly in the eye…unafraid. "To get you to open up."

"For what purpose?"

Tugger falters slightly at the question, but he plunders on. He is unused to being questioned; little prince. "Because I want to get to know you better."

"I think," Mistoffelees counters coolly, feeling a spark beginning at the base of his neck. "You are trying to satiate a curiosity."

"Maybe." Tugger shrugs. "But I think you want to be known, don't you?"

Mistoffelees' spine stiffens suddenly, the spark becoming a full, indignant crackle. "That is a very bold assumption to make."

"Is it?" He counters, drawing to his full height, full of the devil, staring down at him. Tugger smiles impishly at the ear twitch Mistoffelees cannot quite suppress. "I can play this game too, sparkles."

The two toms stay in their lock of wills, laced tight by a single, unflinching thread, and there is a sudden…weight in the air that hadn't been present before.  Tugger looks…determined and expectant. Predatory, almost, in his size and the glint in his eye. Every instinct in his borrowed body tells him to look away, break the bond, reshift the balance, but his mind betrays him. Something else betrays him. 

The quiet comes back, but it is no longer restful as it was before.

"What if," Mistoffelees manages at last, voice oddly strained, as though he were pulling it up from a well. "When you manage to…'open me up', you do not like what you see?"

The other tom's adamant face freezes just a moment, too quick to be noticed by any regular cat, but Mistoffelees sees it, lingers on it as the genuineness of emotion bleeds into the easier, softer expression that replaces it. Surprise, wariness even. But still, no fear - not a single trace of it. If only you knew. "Then I'd say you have the right to sauté me, then."

There is a foreign pressure deep within the cavern of his body at the answer. He does not recognize it; he has not felt this in centuries - millennia, possibly.  "I do not believe you understand what you are asking for."

"Listen." Tugger licks his lip, rocking back on his haunches so he shrinks again, non-threatening, and the thread snaps. Mistoffelees lowers his tail cautiously. 

"I know you think I'm…I don't know, irresponsible with myself - everyone else thinks so," Tugger says evenly, carefully avoiding what he thinks of the admission. "And you'd be right, but I promise you, I'm a big tom, I can handle myself. If I asked it's because I want to know - how bad could it be?"

Bad, bad, very bad. You will never look at me the same.

And there it was - that relentless sincerity, glittering in his dark eyes again. 

Why do I care? What am I doing? a tiny voice wails in his ear. What am I doing?

"Very well," his traitor's tongue betrays its own master. "What would you know of me?"

For the first time in their conversation, Tugger casts his gaze downward, looking, a moment, almost shy; overwhelmed by the offer. It would be charming, he thinks, if it did not feel so…horrid in his chest cavity. He would file that away for future consideration. "I don't know…honestly, I didn't think I'd get this far."

Mistoffelees hmphs, the unrelenting heat and heaviness of the moment cooling enough that he was able to regain a semblance of his bearings about him. Typical Tugger. 

"Maybe…” Tugger scrunches up his muzzle in thought. “Where were you born?"

Mistoffelees looks away at last, and it seems like an eternity passes until he speaks again, sitting under the steadily fading moon. He prays, as close as he could get, that the other would not live to regret this. That he would not live to regret this.

"Perhaps," he begins softly, nearly - Tugger's betraying mind whispers - with affection. "You may want to start with something simpler."

"Like?"

"Where were you when the world began?"

#mr. mistoffelees and the horrifying ordeal of being known #see previous post on blog for context #Mr. Mistoffelees #The Rum Tum Tugger #tuggoffelees #fanfiction #my fanfic #there you go - i was hit with a bullet this evening #takes place in the same universe as the other tuggoff fic i wrote #i can only write them in that way sorry #mephisto and the horrifying reality that you may just be in love with faust #no beta as usual - i will edit as i reread it several dozen times

[ruiniel]

Schemes

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Pairing: Alucard x fem!Reader

Count: 3.7K

Rating: M

Summary:

This is a chapter from my first Castlevania series fanfiction 'Prickly thorns, tender roses' l, a post-season III Alucard x F!OC AU. For practice I've converted it to x reader. If anyone's interested in the longer backstory/what happens next, the full fic is here. Falls under angst with a happy ending (just not this part). There's some references to previous events which I hope aren't too confusing.

Tags/Warnings: oneshot, downer ending, alcohol consumption, heavy angst, alternating POV, Post-Castlevania Season 3, References to blood-drinking, Blood-drinking aftermath, Bloodlust, Guilt, AU interpretation of dhampir abilities, slight OOC behavior, Paranoia, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Mental anguish.

He reached inside the stove and retrieved the cooked dish, deeming it ready. He placed it onto the wide stovetop, eyeing it critically. Hare would do, but it had been a while since he prepared anything for one other than himself. And even then, Alucard had put much less care into it all. It would have been the same now, but you looked weak and needed something other than brambles and nuts.

He felt your weakness through the beating of your heart, the sluggish trudging of your blood. Even now, chambers away, if he gave in to it, Alucard could sense where you were by those regular life-giving tremors alone. 

He sighed at the irksome thought. If he were being honest, guilt played a hefty part in all of this as well, for your precarious state was owed to his actions. It was hard enough now to smother all thoughts of you as it was. He had not told you everything, could not. He told you drinking your essence would change him, and it had. But then there was the aftermath, the lingering need for more, and Alucard thanked his human side for aiding with the niggling bloodlust that followed.

His jaw hurt and his throat dried when thinking of your pulse striking against him, on and on, raw and bursting as he had stalked back to the castle through the night with you in his arms. He'd been afraid of his very self, of what he could so easily become — more beast than man. Struggling to keep those recurring and frightfully tempting bouts of rage in check Alucard had grasped at your own sense of relief, almost palpable by the way it blanketed you both, craving a shred of stability, as if your humanity could quench the cursed fever engulfing him. He'd clutched you tighter despite himself for the semblance of sanity you offered, and you seemed to become smaller against him. Though you were also dazed from the blood sharing and your bleeding wrist, you clung to him like he was some savior. Like he was yours.

The mere thought was a travesty, like a cruel unfinished jest played by a careless trickster god. The logical part of him knew there had been little choice. But now here he was, still thinking of you days after the fact, still hearing every whisper of your ruby lifestream, attempting to shield himself from the scent of your apprehension and confusion, your fascination, your desire.

Who could desire someone like him? Who would want him around once they knew his shame, the pathetic attempts at closeness that ended in abandonment at best, treachery and death at worst?

Patricide, hunted, cursed. He had done nothing with his life other than react to what others have done, trying to right wrongs, becoming the one to strike the blow.

It was partly the reason Alucard had given you the manuscript. The sooner you had what you needed and left, the better. He would find another way to restore the engine room, he did not need you for it. He did not need you at all. 

His heart denounced the lie.

Though the thought of you stepping out of his life now did strange things to his mind and placed a shroud of loss over his spirit, Alucard attributed it to the yet active connection you shared. He nearly laughed at the irony of it... one unwilling, the other unaware. When he had helped with your wrist after, he barely kept himself from pinning you down, piercing your neck and having more. The knowledge that you would probably let him made it harder to ignore, though his control never slipped so far. He had felt nothing like it before, the memory of his strength and heightened state while spiked on your blood still so fresh, so tempting. He had no need of blood in the genuine sense for the duality of his nature, but his father had warned him of its intoxicating and addictive effects. And oh, that did not even begin to describe it.

Alucard ran a hand over his face in exasperation. It was better now, easier to cope with. He no longer felt the pull of you, but something else shook him out of his usually resigned and morose state of mind. The way you looked at him. The way neither of you could ever say what lurked beyond your minds, and what he'd discovered dwelling within you. It was better this way; you had another purpose here.

He had nothing else to offer you.

A rustling sound of material cut his thoughts, and his face shuttered when you entered the kitchen. One of your wrists was still bandaged, and you wore a flowing dark dress with long sleeves that flared at the hips. He did not remember this one. There was that quirk of your eyebrow which, Alucard had come to know, heralded a biting remark or another.

"I never took you for a cook," you chimed as you eyed the cast iron dish.

Alucard huffed, placing the cooked hare onto the table. "Need is the greatest of tutors, but I think you know this." You smiled, and he bit the inside of his cheek. "But you forget there was a human living here."

"Of course..." You sat down at a motion of his hand, "Your mother. That is endearing, Adrian — that she taught you, that is!" you said, and there was honesty in your voice.

"I did enjoy indulging in it at times," Alucard caught himself saying as he went to the counter and returned, placing a bottle on the table which caught your attention.

"So you no longer do?" you asked.

Alucard made a sound that might have been a hum. Your prying questions on such irrelevant aspects of himself were always amusing. "You tell me, after dinner." Was he actually engaging in small talk? 

"What is this?" you jerked your chin at the bottle.

He uncorked the bottle and took two tall glasses from a cupboard, glancing at you briefly.

You had rarely seen glass items before, having not been in any noble houses to speak of. "No, I..." you lifted a hand when Alucard poured the second glass, "...I am not accustomed to it."

Alucard looked aghast. "Try things before you denounce them, will you?" he handed you the wine.

You narrowed your eyes but took the proffered item, your attention on the swirling of the scarlet liquid. You took a wary sip; it was rich and somewhat dry to the taste, with a fruity aroma. "It is good."

His smile was haughty, but you did not take the bait.

"No retort? Is there something the matter with you?" Alucard prodded with the barest hint of teasing. 

You took a piece of game. "I am simply too happy and grateful to regale you with my stings," your eyes bore into his, "Does my cheer bother you?"

He snorted and shook his head, valiantly ignoring the rushing flow from your center, hastening through your veins. It was much more potent. Perhaps giving you red wine had not been the best endeavor.

The rest of the meal passed in companionable silence, interrupted by bouts of chatter here or there. Mundane nothings, moments he would certainly not miss when you left, for their peculiar effect that shattered his guard and left him wanting, though he had not the faintest idea what it was. When you were done Alucard stood, giving you a brief questioning glance before he took the plates away. 

You had come to quite like the soft torpor from the wine. "I will admit. That was one of the best meals I've ever had," you lounged back in the chair, pointing a slight finger at him. "Don't let it get to your head." Your smile was careless, your reserved facade turned lighter; bolder.

Alucard had taken his seat back at the table opposite you and lightly leaned over with his forearms onto the dark surface. There was a thickness in his throat as he sensed your body leaning into the table, towards him. "Forgive me, but much already has." He was smiling, his stance more carefree than before; he rested his face in his palm, watching you without the trace of a glare.

You slowly leaned back against your chair, staring at him with a raised eyebrow and an uncertain smile. "You can come back from it, if you want to."

He grinned. "Yes, they are called night creatures."

"Don't be crude."

"Listen, scholar," Alucard rose from the table.

"Whenever you say that, you turn glum and sometimes insulting," you sang.

He shrugged, heading over to the washing counter. "I thought your order valued different perspectives. I envy your resolve, I do. But it is not how I feel."

His words had been soft but stressed with belief, and again a heavy weariness, that you pushed no more.

Alucard turned from you to busy himself at the counter.

Sighing, you rose from the chair. "Do you need any help there?"

~~

The sun had yet to set when you retreated to the usual place where your evenings ended: the study. You had wanted to join him, and Alucard did nothing to deter you. You told him how brilliant the gifted tome was, how you had already delved into its knowledge, how it would be a significant step forward; how beholden you were for it.

Some time and two bottles of wine later, you were sprawled on your side onto the divan, your chin resting in your palm as you listened to him speak. You had asked of his family, and in a rare show of openness, he'd told you of his brief childhood, of the meaningful moments he remembered. You spoke of Styria and its workings, the hardships its people faced, of your own rather sheltered life as an apprentice.

Presently he was regarding the portrait of his mother that he'd retrieved and now held in his hands. "My father tried, but I owe her most of what I am," Alucard said, and it was liberating to speak of her to someone. Ever since she died, he'd not spoken of it, truly spoken of it, to anyone but his father. And he was no longer here. "I was raised to believe I represented both kindreds, and to strive in becoming the best of either," his smile faded.

"The way you speak... is it your belief that you failed?" you wondered, saddened by his change of mood. He did not deserve this misery, the loneliness, any of it. He deserved...

He turned his head, propped against the backrest of his armchair. There was a glimmer in his eyes which you attributed to the wine. You did feel strange, your arms become slack, your head spinning slightly; you were pleasantly numb all over.

"I do not know. I used to think I knew what I wanted. Not so now." Alucard stared at you and suddenly looked uneasy, lost, the cool determination fading before a despondency so deep it crept upon your heart.

Maybe it was the drink, but you hurt for him. You nodded once, looking in your lap where you fingered the soft weave of a light blanket you'd pulled over your feet. You looked back at him. "We've only known each other for a little while, but..." you licked your lips, uneasy beneath his questioning stare. "But I think, there is no need to strive, not for you. You've been through so much, but never forgot mercy. You saved my life," you shook your head, "more than once, and showed me kindness I've rarely seen from my own people."

Alucard looked down at his hands, and when his gaze met yours again, it raked over you in a way that riled, bringing forth the same need as before.

You wanted him close, wanted something of him and he would not look away, not even when you rose unsteadily from the divan, slowly stepping towards him. You felt trapped, in a trance, guided by his stare.

Emboldened and rather dazed, you neared him even as the light in his eyes changed from questioning to cold.

But he deserved...

For the first time since his feeding of you, you wanted more. For the first time, you felt a calling, vague and smothered, but you knew it was him.

Alucard watched you, warily, doing nothing when you leaned in, closer.

Your eyes were on his ageless face, trailing to his mouth — that sweet, dangerous mouth you both feared and craved to feel. But there came the vehement opposition of a wall, built of seeping resent and barely contained fury, and only late did you sense it was coming from him. His hands now shook imperceptibly and his fingers jerked, clasping the sides of his seat, his eyes lit with near bestial ferocity. He was frightening; he was beautiful.

Alucard swallowed. Yes, wine had been a terrible idea. What were you doing?

You felt no fear, but knew this was uncharted territory. You saw it in the way he watched you, heard it in that wordless calling surging through you.

"Adrian..." you reached and ran a hand through his hair, saw his eyes closing. There brimmed the need to show him there was more to life than pain, more to humanity than the ghosts of his past; you wanted to prove it to him. You allowed all the honesty you felt to surface into your words. "I know what I want," you told him, your voice gaining a throaty quality.

Gradually his eyes softened under your stare, the death grip on his seat relinquished. "And what is that?" came the barely audible question.

"More of... more of you," you said even as he went rigid, "...and I want to know what it feels like... to..." you reached for one of his wrists, running the sleeve of his shirt up to touch the scarred skin. When you leaned in, his eyes narrowed, and for the first time you saw a trace of fear in them.

"Don't."

His warning came faint, his voice strangled, laced with so much burdened craving it failed to discourage you. And he knew it — he also felt drunk on the scent of your blood, and as free as he was of the compulsion to drink you dry, it called to him incessantly, ever since you’d foolishly offered it to him. The torturous pumping of violent red through your chest, into your womb, pulsing lower—

His eyes widened when your lips ghosted the corner of his mouth; the portrait slid from his lap, falling to the floor.

Alucard gripped the edge of his seat, and in hateful submission his other arm came strongly around your waist, forcing you rather clumsily down to him.

He grasped your hair and buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in for a long moment. "Why..." he asked, the word muffled into you. A strange question, even to him. In a sudden move, he sought your mouth and pressed his lips to yours.

Everything stilled. Your breath tickled, warm and sweet. The tip of his tongue grazed your lips, and he tensed when you whimpered against his mouth. He took the lead, fingers trembling in your hair as he languidly sucked on your lower lip, lingering on the feel of it; feeding on your hunger. You tasted of hot wine and berries.

This is wrong, it is wrong, his sanity fumed, but the truth was he had missed this... this ache, the warmth of another. It filled the void, and you felt so good against him... he was close to drowning. With a strangled groan he forced you into him, and deepened the kiss.

The wood splintered where his long fingers clutched the armrest, but he could not help it. Something would break, and it was either this, or you. And the most disconcerting was how weak this was making him. It was a dangerous sort of power, and one that nearly cost him his life once.

But your scent...

"Adrian, please," you cooed, a hand trailing down his neck, gingerly following the line of his ragged, winding scar. Your fingers reached lower on burning skin, your palm splayed over warm, hardened muscle. His quickened heartbeat thundered under your touch as you nipped at his lips, smiling when he broke away to lead a burning trail from your mouth to your cheek, along your jaw, losing more of himself with every moment. The moan you had been striving to keep at bay rose in your chest, up your throat, smothered by his kiss; he sucked on your lower lip with a velvet release before pressing his cheek to yours. It was a feat to regain his shallow breathing.

You could feel something hardening against your hip as you lay draped over him on your side, and without thought pressed yourself into it. You heard a harsh intake of breath, his fingers tightening around the nape of your neck.

Alucard let his head fall back and held your lower body down, kneading you against him in possessive, repetitive friction; his hand dug into your hip. "You…" he whispered mindlessly, mirroring the pulsing rhythm of your blood in his movements. "Are you certain?..." 

You only nodded, swaying with his lead. It had been so long since he melted into someone else, and shared—

Ruthless, the memory of a similar event where dream turned nightmare resurfaced, turning pleasure to ash, and his mind began to seethe. This felt so sadly, awfully, familiar. But you would not... there had always been a type of honesty about you which Alucard tried his best to rebuke, and there was honesty in the way you touched and tasted—

… but it had been the same with them. He had sensed their lust well enough. And it had not deterred them from their plan of ending him, not in the least. He had been no less blind to their game, and what was there to keep history from repeating itself?

Even bearing these thoughts he still responded, crushing you to him to the point of painfulness, kissing you deeper. For one split shard of time he allowed himself the freedom to bask in the visions of your blood and need; of you lying on your back, your hands around your head; bared skin seeking him—

No.

And from beyond silent hedges of thought the past burst to the surface, carrying all the brunt of scalding pain and irrational fear, burning away all hopes and desires.

Who could desire someone like you?

You were utterly lost in the haze of his taste when with a hiss Alucard sharply pulled your head away, severing your breathless kiss, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"Is this your game, then?" he tilted his head to the side, his expression morphing into one of calculating feline curiosity. Your pulse stumbled so fast, fuel to his desperation. "Well? Will you tell me I am lonely?" he asked, gazing at your astonished face, your lips swollen and wet, parted in surprise at the vicious interruption.

"What do you mean—" you gasped.

"Will you tell me it was time for my reward? What did you reckon? Well, pretty little fool, I am not so removed from your ways as you think. But I never expected you to attempt the same scheme," he followed, and his voice was ice. "How... disappointing."

"Adrian," you swallowed, "what is it you speak of?"

"You humans never do think too far ahead," he spoke, still breathless because of you, and all the angrier for it. "You think you know me so well, do you? You think you understand what my existence entails after what I've done?" he tilted his head to the other side. "Maybe I should turn you..." his gaze raked over you with contempt.

"No—," you croaked desperately, wondering where Adrian had gone. This was not him. "Please, I—"

"Why not? Don't you want to know what it feels like?" Alucard threw, his hand still harshly grasping your hair back so your slender neck was exposed. He watched you with a cruel smile, his darkened eyes following the rise and fall of your yet peaked breasts through your dress, the life thrum of your neck, the lips he had tasted.

"There is no scheme!" you cried. "How can you say these things!?" you tried, deeply unsettled by the hateful manner of his words. "Think! Would I attempt to retrieve you from peril if I wanted you gone, if I wanted to hurt you?"

He huffed, a cold, manic light brimming in his eyes like icy daggers to strike. "You did not have what you needed yet." His fingers tightened in your hair. "You did not know where to find it, but I'm sure you knew it had to be here."

You could barely believe your ears. Where had his usually unfeeling and pragmatic logic gone? "Damn this to hell I feel for you, I only wanted to show you that I do. Adrian—"

You gasped when you fell into the armchair holding nothing. Your gaze shot upward to see him on his feet.

"Get out," he demanded lowly, turning his back on you.

"Will you at least tell me what I've done? Please, forgive me." You rose to stand, one hand reaching for him. "Believe me, I would never harm you—"

You froze when he lashed at you, his vampiric side rushing to the fore, flaring menacingly.

"Get.OUT! " his harsh command echoed off the walls as Alucard rounded on you, eyes blazing red.

Shaking and truly frightened, you took one step back, then another. Your lower lip quivered; his touch still burned into your skin.

But then his stance mellowed, as though he were suddenly very fatigued, propping his hand against the fireside for support. His shoulders rose and fell with each heavy breath. He was looking anywhere but at you. "I want you out of my home before the night is over," he ordered, making you flinch.

"And where would I go?" you asked with a newfound, raking sort of hurt pride, a wayward look of disbelief in your eyes.

"That is your concern, not mine," Alucard retorted tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Adrian—" you tried again, only to be cut off by a scalding look.

"You will regret ever setting foot here otherwise," he snapped at you, his words chopped and shaking.

Trembling like a leaf, you bit down the crippling misery that piled up your throat. "I already do," you spewed before turning on your heel and dashing out of his sight, sparing no glance back.

Told you, downer ending.

#alucard castlevania x reader #x reader #alucard x reader #alucard x fem!reader #adrian tepes x you #ruiniel:fanfiction #castlevania x reader

[offantasiesandreams]

hi it's your cyberpunk loving anon, cyber anon again (⁎⁍̴̛ᴗ⁍̴̛⁎)

ever since i found character.ai, i've been having a blast interacting with my favourite characters

speaking of ai, here's my ai-related request:

off with a sentient ai reader!

Oh yeah, character.ai is a lot of fun! I've been creating some characters here and there and been training them! It's a great site! I may have spent more time than I should have on there! But! I'm back now! Even if I was gone for a bit for several reasons! Anyway! Request time!

OFF with a Sentient AI Reader

You are a robot, given the task to exterminate spectres tormenting innocent inhabitants with a being called “The Batter”. Imbued with nothing but your observational skills and an ability to learn, you go about your quest.

The moment Batter sees you, as per usual, he instantly feels a connection between him and you. But something does seem rather off to him at first. Whereas you do emote, potentially more than he does, he feels as though his every movement is being analysed harshly. At first, you copy a few mannerisms of his, which would actually be his thing when it comes to affection. It’s almost flattering him, even, making him believe you were thinking of him as something more than just a puppet.

Nothing escapes the eye of a cat. Judge knew from the very beginning that you were made of iron and metal rather than flesh and blood, but such did not deter him from giving you a warm welcome regardless. Despite being somewhat more wary of you, due to your circuits potentially breaking and leaving more harm than good, he has great faith in you still, believing that you will do well in your divine quest.

As soon as you meet Zacharie, however, the merchant notices that something about you is not made of flesh and blood when he attempts to pat your shoulder in a friendly manner. You were cold and not particularly soft to the touch either. That’s when it clicked for the both of them and you confess, even if you believed they had known from the start. It’s then that Zacharie decides to have some fun and have you do a puzzle on your own without Batter’s help.

Needless to say, you failed, quite a lot. But eventually, you managed to do the puzzle without flaw. Despite him chuckling because of you quite a bit, Zacharie does feel bad and gives you some items as an apology. He does, however, like having your opinion on things and challenging your problem-solving skills from time to time. Seeing as you’re not guided by emotions, some rather interesting things leave your circuits.

When it comes to fighting, you still command the Add-Ons, yes, but more so through a manipulation of electromagnetism than actual magic. With some built-in equipment of yours, you’re capable of hitting more critical shots than the average player, as well as figure out an enemy’s weakness and resistance just as easily as Batter could with a few glances. 

Dedan’s fight is rather difficult. While, due to your processor, you are capable of multitasking fairly easily, you had to make sure to not get damaged yourself. With his raw strength, as well as Dedan putting your allies to sleep from time to time, you had to do what you could in order to fight him off. Considering he deemed you an odd creature as well in quite the rude manner, he went all out on you. His time based attacks could mess with your inner periods and frequencies quite easily, distorting your sense of time and reaction quite a bit.

Japhet, however, was a bit easier. While his attacks could mess with your auditory perception, it couldn’t do too much damage to you overall. Besides, there was some hesitancy on Japhet’s side, ever the book nerd, that made him excited to meet you and see what you were capable of. While it didn’t particularly lead to him being more careless, it certainly kept his focus subconsciously on you, making it a bit easier for Batter to get a few more hits in.

Enoch, on the other hand, would have loved to keep you with him. Had you not been programmed to do your quest, he would have done what he could to convince you to join him. Performing research on you to make workers as efficient as you. People die all the time, it’s just a matter of them coming here. He would no longer have to rely on some spectres, he could simply rely on your kind. However, nothing could change your mind.

The Queen would be saddened by your actions. As a very advanced AI and computer, you could never understand the pain she’s going through, having to fight her own love just to defend her son, in her eyes. While that is also the reason she can’t be mad at you, if possible, in another universe, or even just another timeline, she would have loved to invite you for a beverage of your choice, sit down with you and simply chat. But as it is now, she has no choice but to put all her curiosities aside and try to protect her child.

#off (game) #off x reader #batter #zacharie #judge #dedan #japhet #enoch #vader eloha #queen #that should be all of them I think! #I went with more general headcanons as to how the characters would react to you being an AI #and how being an AI would affect your overall performance in the OFF world! #I hope that's okay! #and again I'm sorry for disappearing for a while!

[minthe-lover]

Episode 206 Kronos Fight

So I have a few things I do like about this chapter, the final scenes with the people reuniting is kinda sweet. Though really wish we got one between Zeus and hera. Another thing, I think giving Tartarus a physical form was a cool interesting and definitely a fun way to end the fight.

My favorite shot in the whole chapter is between Tartarus and Poseidon. Cause one is just generally cool looking, and the other is just really sweet.

All my critics are under the cut... it's probably gonna be long.

Besides that I mainly got problems, the main one is the general tone of the chapter. It's not a super serious chapter about an epic fight, or even a nervous one about thinking about what happens if Persephone fails in this fight. It's done in this largely comedic light, where your supposed to laugh at kronos fails attempts to fight or more like annoy persephone.

Like why are the reporters there adding commentary, it seem extremely out of place? why are Athena and Ares not helping and instead making a few jokes? why the fuck would you choose a joke about bees during the final big fight of the season.

This is a power we've never seen, with the trees and water we can assume it's connected to her other powers... but this is something completely different. That along with them showing up near the end with the final few panels. Think how much better this would have felt if the final panels were connected with petals or something, or even we saw Persephone summon a single bee and struggle to summon more in the past. (also they look alot more like wasps then the traditional bee but still)

That along with the fact that because their isn't as much dialog this chapter feels alot smaller. Which isn't fully the fault of rs since that just a side effect of having large pictures. The art work is not that bad, Persephone gravity deify boobs that almost pop out of her dress ever panel are distracting and the colours are a little boring but it's not terrible.

I think it would be alot more striking if persephone magic was more green or her pink colour. That way more of the panels would pop and show persephone power more.

The first panel isn't to bad, but the last one. The muted dark colour of the tree just doesn't stand out that much against the black and dark blue of the background. It just doesn't stand out as much as it should. The trees Persephone has made it the past have big bushy green leaves or just are fully pink, why are these ones not?

My next big problem is with kronos. He doesn't actually do anything to fight Persephone. He dodges her attacks and throw petty insults. He isn't an actual threat despite 100 of episodes building him up to be the big bad. Persephone doesn't get injured during the fight, I don't fully like calling characters mary sue as its often used in a sexist light. Along with the fact that it's more a fanfic trope which I don't mind in the slightest, fanfictions are free fun doesn't matter how bad it is.

Though Persephone is 100% over powered in a way that makes this really anti climatic. Like why not have Persephone and hades defeat Kronos together... or see Persephone struggling in the fight. Honestly I wouldn't fully mind if Persephone defeated Kronos herself if she actually saw some difficulty in the fight.

Show her struggling getting hurt, show the words effecting her that she moves on from. Show her actually having some difficulty. maybe have kronos be close to wining, then have the other gods show up and attack kronos all together but have persephone having the final blow. Or even just show that it takes a bit for her full pomegranate effects take hold.

The next problem is the final interactions between hades and Persephone.

First for a supposably 'girl power' type media where Persephone destroyed the big bad sort of all by herself. How did hades help? like... I mainly just confused over this line.. if someone can explain it I would be appreciated. that and the beauty of just... the long pointy noise.. that look way to much like persephone would accidently be stabbed in the eye.

Another thing that I wish to note.. is how the whole eating the pomegranate mean Persephone is now 'stuck' with hades. This feminist story has a finally based on the idea that the main female character is now forever bonded to the realm of her first love. Even if later persephone decided she didn't wish to be there she literally has no choice but to stay.

In a healthy relationship there should be an understanding that if someone wishes to end it they will be safe and free to do so. Relationships no matter how long you've been with the person should be okay to leave. This is an incredibly important as time can often change people for the worse or simply show new part of their self.

In the relationship shown, not only does it start with hades being her boss, control her finances, and use a teenager as emotional support but it ends with Persephone stuck with a man that she hasn't even been on a date with and he already dreams of having children with her.

It is just... a weird way for a relationship to go in a supposably 'feminist' comic.

#anti lo art #lo critical #anti lo #anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical