#compared to the bleak ass scenes in what if

[whore-for-chris-evans]

I don't know what you expected but I am still not done talking about the infamous fifth episode of the What If...? show.

Spoiler warnings ahead.

Throughout the episode, while trying to pull Steve out of the mind control, Peggy keeps repeating "Steve, this isn't you, wake up" an abnormal amount of times. It's actually sickening how lacking the scriptwriting is, at least for her character.

Bucky interacts with Steve for barely a minute and even then, his efforts to get Steve back display a wider vocabulary than Peggy's throughout the whole episode.

Furthermore, I'd like to break down and compare Steve's words to Bucky and CATWS, and Peggy's words to Steve in What If...?

Steve: "I'm not gonna fight you," and here he drops the shield into the river below, "you're my friend."

Moments later, as Bucky nearly punches him to death, saying "YOU'RE! MY! MISSION!", Steve's calm, collected response is "then finish it, cause I'm with you till the end of the line."

Yes, tear-jerking, we know. Let's move on.

Peggy, having gone up against Steve in a huge (around the same size as the armour Tony built in the cave) metal suit, made of plutonium or something, and still standing straight up, says:

"I don't want to fight you, I can't fight you anymore. I'm done fighting, I've been fighting for so long, to end the war, to forget what I lost...I'm tired. Steve, I want to be with you. I want you, even if this is the end."

Keeping aside the frustrating repetition of the word "fight" in just a few lines of Peggy's speech, let's look at the motivation behind both the dialogues.

Peggy talks about herself. About how she is tired of the war and of losing people, how she tries to forget how Steve isn't in her life anymore, about how she wants to be with him. Her entire purpose is not to save him, but to save him for herself. Her actions come from a selfish point of view, and by the time she says this, she is far from being as battered and bruised as MCU Steve. In fact, she gets away with just a couple of bruises at the most.

On the other hand, Steve's intention was to free Bucky from Hydra's torture, to protect his childhood best friend and lover. He had been shot multiple times, stabbed at least once, had his skin split open in several areas when he dropped the final bombshell. Steve was nearly dying while he was saying all that; yes he would've loved a second chance at life with Bucky by his side, but it was never his primary focus.

His primary focus was making sure Bucky had a second chance at life, even if he himself died trying. It was as if to say "I may die right here right now, but I love you too much to hurt you any further than I already have. You've always been more dear to me than life itself, so if your mission is truly to kill me, you know I'll support you in it even as you're taking my last breath out of me. All I ask for is your safety and well-being."

And it shows in the consequences too - in CATWS, Bucky not only regains just enough of his memories to stop, but also pulls Steve out of the Potomac before he can drown to death and places him somewhere he knows Sam and Nat and the others will easily spot him.

On the contrary, Hydra Stomper Steve barely shows any affection, shock or remorse towards the woman in front of him, but instead, he flies up to the Red Room and destroys it. It is unclear whether he survives the crash himself.

Like I said before, despite Marvel trying their absolute hardest to push StevePeggy as the superior pairing, they still end up portraying Steve and Bucky's (I say romantic, because Steggy mirroring Stucky proves the latter to be a romance) bond to be far stronger than that of Steve with a woman he only knew for a couple of years at most during a world war.

They dug their own grave and cannot crawl their way out of it. Stucky prevails.

@buckymilf @mainly-marvel @oneofstarkskids @jjmaybanksgun @averageambivert

#steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky #stevebucky #anti peggy carter #what if #what if season 2 #marvel #forever my top ship #on top of all this #of course there's the fact that chris and seb did something in that scene im not sure even they themselves could recreate #there was unbelievable chemistry #and the emotions were real #compared to the bleak ass scenes in what if

[toastymarshie]

Thinking about how Itadori and Fushiguro were probably never suppose to meet.

Feel free to disagree with my argument or chalk it up to me being a sad ass bitch, but it does feel like that.

Feel free to add to this post or send me an ask lol.

Why do I feel like this?

Well, I can’t pinpoint the exact reasons for why I feel this way, I can give some evidence to back it up. I know that JJK is a shonen and it was going to start with Itadori Yuji and end with or without him.

Ofc the most obvious one is Yuji’s death and path leading up to it.

(I will refer to the manga at this point if I will put anime screenshots if I just have them at hand)

Their first meeting

As you can see Fushiguro was impressed by Itadori’s natural strength. Even comparing him to Maki. However that was the extent he was willing to give to a random person. A very one sided interaction.

Until

This is the moment the narrative shifts for both Megumi and Yuji. Yuji carrying a curse since the beginning of their meeting (how ironic!) and Megumi is going after him. Sure it’s to retrieve Sukuna’s finger but it’s there.

For anyone who doesn’t know for some odd reason, Megumi’s name translates to Blessing hence why Toji and mama Fushiguro call him such. Yes, his name meaning is important to not only Yuji but to the major players such as Gojo.

Also we have to talk about Grandpa Itadori’s last request.

Of course we know now that Grandpa’s last words were a curse to Yuji. How this last request shapes Yuji as a person in the coming chapters. Another curse to add to the list of curses. (Do the note the rule of three)

Then we get the scene in the hospital after Yuji’s grandfather dies. (Abridged for time)

This is when the plot finally kicks in. Yuji unknowably putting his friends in danger and Megumi has to go save them and the finger. I don’t personally count this as a curse for Yuji as it’s just the direct effect of the first curse I noted. Remember that Yuji comes in when he remembers his grandpa’s words.

Then finally we get to the final curse

Ryomen Sukuna

Itadori Yuji’s last and final curse that sealed his fate. The very thing that led him to the path he’s in. Not just him but also Fushiguro Megumi. From Shibuya to the current arc (Chapter 244-245) both of them have been by each other’s side trying their best to break this curse.

Remember, Yuji was going to be executed once he ate the first finger but due to Gojo’s interference and Megumi’s own personal feelings he was given a choice.

The first chapter really set them up to meet each other regardless of the factors that scream don’t do it/don’t follow him. Especially in hindsight, you can feel the tragedy brewing before it even begins. You somewhat know the consequences in the first chapter and it only grows worse in the second.

But that what makes a good tragedy.

Fuck you Gege you one eye cat

Now I’m gonna bring up chapter 9 for a bit because it’s history is very interesting. Gege did say that if the series didn’t do well, he will leave Yuji dead. (Ofc this didn’t happen and please help me find the source of this information. I know it was stated in an interview but I couldn’t find a translated version.)

Even then, it just solidifies my feelings.

This is the ending of the story. How it’s suppose to end.

Someone said that this seemed like a confession and I have to agree. Whether it’s romantic or platonic, Fushiguro’s feelings for Itadori are real.

Hear that?

That’s me sobbing.

With the recent chapters, it seem bleak but I believe that we will see Fushiguro again.

Yuji and Megumi will meet again maybe for the last time. I’m not Gege, but I trust him not really to give them a proper ending.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #itafushi #media analysis #this is a long one #sorry for the JJK posting #jjk spoilers #kinda #can be read as platonic or romantic #idc if the post flops or not #I just needed to sort my feeling out #idk man #this shit rotted my brain lmao

[abyssallector]

It does feel like sometimes the writers either didn't have the creative freedom to do what they wanted to, thus some episodes having to sacrifice character arcs for the sake of action or even toy marketing (damn you Nick!!) Or the writers sometimes didn't GET get the character, in this case Mikey, B team sometimes felt a bit flat or one dimensional compared to the characters arcs Raph and Leo got for this reason.

Yeahhh i love the B-Team and they have my favorite dynamic but they are severely lacking in the development department. Thinking about Donnie though, I swear they were trying to do something with him in season 2? Like with his conflict with Leo, and how he was gradually working up to being more assertive with his ideas and plans. But once season 3 hit, it's like it Never happened. B-team antics are always fun and all, but throughout the farmhouse arc it didn't really seem like they were particularly bothered by the bleak situation they were in, only really reacting to Immediate Danger In Direct Eyesight.

Theres this one moment in The Fourfold Trap, that I think about so often. After the anti venom to cure Karai doesn't work, Leo goes to Donnie and tells him to "Try harder", and that sets donnie OFF. "TRY harder? I always have to find the solution. You're LEADER Leo, YOU find the answer!" Like how are yall gonna make him say this and then not do anything with it bro HAHAHA

They do this with Mikey a lot too, and I can give you an episode that sooo blatantly shows the difference in how they treat Mikey and Donnie as character vs Leo and Raph, Season 4 Episode 5, Riddle of the Ancient Aeons where they're on the angery rage planet . Everyone is tense, but generally they get more easily provoked by anyone they have preexisting angst with. Donnie spends most of his time bickering with Only Casey. But Mikey snaps and yells at Raph, "I'm tired of you always picking on me! Ever since we were little, you've been giving me shell wedgies, wet willies,, and reptile rugburns, and-" then he's promptly shut down by Leo. LIKE when first saw that scene my jaw was DROPPED there's so much to unpack there helllo?? But then they just ignore that he said this entirely LMAO . Can I post clips?? How do I post clips

Boom I got the whole ass thing. Buddy said that with his whole heart

When Raph snaps at Leo about him always being Splinters favorite, that's where the episode takes a moment to have those two hug and reconcile. It's genuinely a really sweet scene, but like... yeahh.... the bias is kinda real yknow. It makes me sad that there's any possibility that they sacrificed the B Team character arcs because there's good stuff to work with here, if they could just afford the time and attention

#tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt donnie #tmnt mikey #tmnt raph #tmnt leo #sorry i went a bit on a tangent there #bteam my beloveds #i feel very very strongly about this #maybe its because mikey and donnie are more on the lighthearted side? #and they didnt want to compromise that with angst or something #whatever the reason is #doesnt change the outcome

[jenn-the-mostly-harmless]

I don't want to get caught up in evaluating whether the old show is better than the new show, but I've been thinking lately about how wildly different the Trigun animes are.

The new show characterizes everyone very differently than the old one did. In the old version, Vash has this facade that he's carrying, a jokester silly man act to hide how fucked up things have been for him and how sad he really is. He also gets the chance to save some people now and then, and that's important, because it's what keeps him holding on. If he never saved anyone, the despair would be overwhelming and he might stop trying.

In the newer show, it's all out in the open. He starts as a sad boy, and he doesn't really save anyone. Some people survive, but it's not the same thing, there's little or no catharsis for his character. His experience is so bleak and his sorrow so obvious that I found it jarring when he was silly.

Meryl is different too. In the old version, she's a badass who has a shit ton of derringer pistols in her cloak because she knows the world is dangerous. She's savvy and prepared for anyone and everyone to try to fuck her over. She literally lives in a world so dangerous that following Vash the stampede to keep her job is worth it to her, and she keeps Vash at arms length for a long time because of all that.

In the new version she's basically Lois Lane. Other people fight and die for her as she naively follows Vash because she...thinks he's newsworthy? I found it hard to understand her motivation. She's also no longer the leader or the senior in her coworking relationship.

And then there's Milly from the old version. I loved her simply on big girl rules, so I'm definitely biased, but that said, she also brought an important humanity to the team. Milly was there to remind you that even though the world of the story is mean and desperate, there are still nice people who can treat others kindly. Talk softly, carry a big gun.

So how does Roberto De Niro (yeah, they really named him after the actor) stand up to Milly? He's mostly looking out for himself, but I guess he has fatherly feelings for Meryl, or he wouldn't keep shlupping along with her. I don't know, I found him and his motivations mysterious and eye-rolling. Is he a hard ass that is only doing a job, or someone who actually cares about all this?

But it's not just the characters, I'd argue the very plot is characterized differently. The first anime is all about characterization and spends a lot of time with the characters before getting to the broody sci-fi stuff, which only happens toward the very end. A lot of people who watched it when it came out won't even remember the darker sci-fi stuff because it was aired on old school tv and they just missed an episode here or there.

The new one is almost entirely concerned with the darker sci-fi plot, which is really interesting, but their characterization suffers for it. The action scenes are more impressive, but perhaps less fun. There isn't a lot of mystery to Vash's past in the newer version, but it definitely does a better job of telling the sci-fi part of the story than the first one did.

I haven't read the manga, this is just what I got from watching both animes recently. I find I like them both for different reasons, but it does make me want to read the manga to see how each compares to the original concept. It's easy to get tied down to the first way you meet a fictional character, but it's important to remember that they aren't real people and they change based on who is writing them. If I say I like Batman, am I talking about Adam West's version or Frank Miller's?

#vash the stampede #vash #trigun #anime #best girl milly #characterization #writing #sci-fi #I didn't say anything about Wolfwood #it just happened that way #class assignment lol tell me how Wolfwood is the same or different in the two animes

[watching-pictures-move]

Stop the Planet of the Apes, I Want to Get Off!

Mild spoilers below.

Imagine you're back in 1968 you're with your family and you've bought tickets to see Planet of the Apes and you're standing in line, and some dolt comes out of the previous screening and shouts to their date loud enough for everyone to hear, "Can you believe it was Earth the whole time?!?" One imagines this might have inspired some fisticuffs, despite it having been only a year after the Summer of Love. What I'm getting at is that the movie plays up this twist for the entire runtime, continuously raising the question as to how this planet full of apes came to be, that the eventual reveal likely lacks the impact it originally did as the ending is now common knowledge and has been parodied to death. That being said, the movie is still a pretty engaging piece of work, probably more entertaining when it commits to spectacle, with much of it shot like a frontier western crossed with the Dawn of Man sequence from 2001, than in articulating its ideas, although the latter is where its heart is, and still works thanks to Charlton Heston's indignation and the committed performances of the actors playing the primary ape characters. And while this is just another film out of the many I've seen recently that features loincloth babes, it must be noted that this also features its share of man ass, as well as a startling amount of blood for a G-rated feature.

I think Beneath the Planet of the Apes, like its predecessor, is better at spectacle than ideology, but unlike the former, the dramatic scenes here are more inert. The movie introduces a tribe of telepathic nuclear-bomb-worshiping mutants as a vehicle for its anti-war themes, but fails to define them as individuals the way the original did with its ape characters. And while this is completely fickle on my part, I must also disclose that I found the mutants a tad unpleasant to look at, not so much for their veiny facial makeup, but the awful colour scheme of pastel purples on their uniforms. Who would you rather root for: hideous mutants in hideous costumes, or gorillas on horseback? Regarding the latter, while I haven't seen any of the recent Apes movies all the way through (I have been discouraged both by a scene from Rise where a gorilla is unscathed despite getting machine gunned, and the ostentatious pacing of Matt Reeves' Batman movie, which made me long for the lightness of touch of Christopher Nolan), it is funny to me that the big trailer moment for the last one was an ape on horseback, an image these first two movies readily supply. (One imagines Reeves pitching to execs that with state of the art visual effects, we can finally achieve photorealism in our simian riders.) I must also laud the movie for following through on the bleakness of its premise. If you didn't think it was gonna go there, it goes there.

With Escape from the Planet of the Apes, you can see the series shifting our POV from the humans to the apes. Like the first movie, this goes a long way in sketching out the motivations of the antagonists, who seek to kill the newly landed ape-o-nauts to prevent the catastrophe predicted by the preceding entries. It also leans heavily on our ability to empathize with actors in ape costumes, although it must be said that Kim Hunter and Roddy McDowall bring a great deal of both poignancy and humour to their characters, with Hunter especially leaning into her character's particular body language, so that the ending stings on an emotional level. McDowall would return for more films, but I think the series loses some warmth with the absence of Hunter in the subsequent entries. Also notable for an M. Emmet Walsh cameo and a psychedelic score by Jerry Goldsmith, with twangs of sitar that feel jarring compared to the orchestral flavours of his better known work.

I'd seen Conquest of the Planet of the Apes commonly referred to as the best of the sequels, and I think that reputation is well earned. It depicts a near future (1991) in which cruelty towards apes has been institutionalized, so that revolution is the only option left, and largely keeps your point of identification to the apes, so that you can become revolutionized along with them. The movie is directed by J. Lee Thompson, who brings a certain intensity to the scenes of torture (apes are "conditioned" by disorienting lights and flamethrowers) and the harrowing uprising scenes. (While the earlier entries bizarrely got G ratings despite the presence of blood and violence, this ups the ante and earns a PG rating.) The movie cops out at the last moment, but until then, it does a better job than previous entries in handling its dialogue, largely because Roddy McDowall goes all in on his performance, treating his speeches like he's doing Shakespeare. The one moment of levity is during a breeding scene, where a female chimpanzee makes bedroom eyes at the protagonist, raising the question, are the apes in these movies sufficiently sexy?

I think the last entry, Battle for the Planet of the Apes, is generally considered the bad one, but at this point I've developed sufficient affinity for people in ape costumes delivering very serious themes about societal problems that I had a good enough time. I must however note that Thompson's direction seems to have devolved from the previous entry. There are a couple of scenes here either at night or underground, and you have either the apes' black fur or the humans' black costumes, and well, it gets a little hard to see what's going on. And the climactic battle is disappointingly flat, a series of boring lateral movements with little interest in strategy or what warfare would even look like under these circumstances. I've brought up the apes on horseback in previous entries, but you can see how those movies put some thought into the particulars of how war might be waged in a primitive, resource-poor future. And on a thematic level, I think this much less interested in sussing out the contradictions of its vision of the future. The gorillas essentially push for war out of embarrassment about their illiteracy, while the movie never interrogates the degree to which the protagonist centralizes power or the ease with which his good intentions could go astray and lead to the rigid caste systems and autocracies of previous installments. Also, after five of these movies, while the orangutans clearly have different masks and hairdos, I'm not convinced that the gorilla and chimpanzee masks aren't just the same thing in different colours, just with taller actors playing the gorillas.

#film #movie review #planet of the apes #beneath the planet of the apes #escape from the planet of the apes #conquest of the planet of the apes #battle for the planet of the apes #franklin j. schaffner #ted post #don taylor #j. lee thompson

[blowflyfag]

ECW Magazine: February 2000

ECW in styles 

By Joey Styles

ECW ACHIEVES PERFECTION - FOR NOW 

On Sunday, Sept. 19, 1999, Extreme Championship Wrestling presented what was, in my opinion, the most successful show - pay-per-view or otherwise - in the company’s history, Anarchy Rulz. In this issue of ECW Magazine, Dave Scherer of ECWwrestling.com and Iwreestling.com describes what happened in the ring at this historic event. These occurrences were some of the most exciting I have had the pleasure of calling.

However, as a member of ECW’s behind-the-scenes team, or the imaginary “office” that my broadcast colleague, Cyrus, loves to refer to, I must analyze ECW as a marketer as much as I do as a performer. Keeping that in mind, I loved Anarchy Rulz. One month before the event, Chicago area fans gobbled up 5,000 tickets and Team ECW (which includes you fans) had its first advance sellout. Answering the demands of our fans, we changed the layout of The Odeum in suburban Villa Park, Ill., to accommodate another 1,000 seats, and they sold out as well. More than 6,000 fans paid a total of more than $200,000 to see Anarchy Rulz live. It was the largest live crowd in ECW’s history. 

Furthermore, the day before the event, more than 2,000 enthusiastic fans stormed The Odeum for a Fan Fest. I had a great time signing autographs, taking photos and shaking hands with some of the most fun, respectful and knowledgeable fans I had ever met. Three hours blew by like three minutes, and none of us left until all of the fans in attendance had every autograph they wanted signed, every photo they wanted snapped and every hand they wanted shook. The fans really had fun, and so did i.

I realize that 6,000 fans and $200,000 hardly compares to the numbers that World Championship Wrestling and the World Wrestling Federation produce. I want ECW to draw a 3.0 rating on TNNN and draw 20,000 fans to an event, and I want it now. However, I can remember when the ECW revolution began six years ago and we were doing television tapings for one local station in front of 200 people who paid nothing to see the event. As a performer, marketer, and person in general, I am admittedly an impatient perfectionist. This makes me a real pain in the ass to work with (just ask Paul E. and clear your schedule for at least two hours to listen to him).

Thankfully, keeping things in perspective by looking to ECW’s past and the numerous times our future looked bleak has taught me patience and made me appreciate and marvel at how far we have come. Six years from now, I expect to be writing a column about the humble days of 1999, when ECW drew only 6,000 fans and $200,000 at the first Anarchy Rulz.

#ecw magazine #Joey styles #Joey I love u…. #ecw #extreme championship wrestling #magazine scan

[slow-burn-sally]

(Almost) Everyone dies in The Terror, and that might sound pretty bleak. Ok... it is pretty bleak, but... each character dies in their own way, and each for their own reasons. Each death scene is different, and evokes subtly different emotions, and are often used to communicate different things. 

Sir John’s death feels like a punishment for his ignoring Francis’ warning and for not ordering his men to treat Silna and her father’s father’s body with more respect. 

Hornby’s death, collapsing from the extreme cold, helps hammer home the point that the cold is unimaginable in its intensity.

Evans’ death helps further the idea that the Tuunbaq is intelligent and messing with the crew. 

Morphin’s death helps support the plot point that the cans of food are poisoned with lead. 

Stanley’s death shows the audience how deeply disturbed he’d become, and serves as the catalyst for Crozier’s announcement that they must leave the ships and walk south. 

McDonald’s death was..... just pointless and horrible. Hickey should have aimed higher with the knife. I know you’re short, my dude, but come on. 

Irving’s death leads the crew to uncover Hickey’s crimes, and to prove to the audience how far Hickey is now willing to go to get what he wants and gain control of the situation. 

The deaths of the Inuit .... well... they fall into the McDonald category. They serve to illustrate just how dangerous Hickey has become, but they feel the most unfair out of anyone in the show, and are definitely among the most heartbreaking.

James’ death is soft and intimate and it drives home how close Francis and James have become. It is by far one of the best deaths in the show. James checks out early, avoiding a lot of pain, and dies in his friend’s arms in a lantern lit tent, private and secure, after being told that he’s admired by Bridgens and that there will be poems written about his life. Yes, we all love James, and I wish he didn’t die, but he got a comparatively good death.

Same with Henry Peglar. He died in a private place, attended to by his love, John Bridgens. 

Bridgens’ death is basically the height of romance. My bae died, so now I can’t go on. His dignified (if probably painful and protracted) death was Romeo and Juliet as fuck and I can appreciate that.

Collins’ death is another on the unfair list. Poor guy. At least he went out blitzed off his ass on coca wine. His death also illustrated the fact that the Tuunbaq is a soul eater.

Jopson. I can almost not talk about Jopson’s death. Super duper unfair. Basically just used to illustrate how much Jopson loves his captain and to have his heart broken into a thousand pieces before he dies. Lump him in with McDonald and Collins. Poor babieees.

Goodsir. A very upsetting death, but he goes out like a motherfuckin BOSS. His death is as productive and logical and poetic as it’s possible to make a death, and it’s probably among the top three or four deaths in the whole series. He checks out early just to help take down Hickey’s crew. Cinnamon Roll has spice!

Little’s death. Not as bad as it could have been. He at least gets to be with Crozier at the very end and doesn’t have to die alone. But still... poor meow meow. Poor Edward. 

Hickey’s death. Just pure entertainment. He deserved it. It was epic. It also has the added benefit of proving that he’s an egomaniac and not very smart. 

Blanky’s death. Hands down the best one in the show. Wrapped in forks. Smoking a pipe. Giving the Tuunbaq the world’s biggest proverbial two finger salute. He set it up himself and did it to help save the crew. Bonus: finding the Northwest Passage. Thomas Blanky, I applaud you! 

#the terror #deaths #death talk #non-explicit death talk #death scenes #my ramblings #my opinions

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis is a series that looks at villains across various media in the hopes of coming to something of a consensus on the overall quality of the character. Are they performed well? Do they enrich the narrative? Are their motives fleshed out? Are they voiced by Tim Curry and thus a sex icon? 

There are a lot of important questions that I look into, but ultimately, Psycho Analysis boils down to asking one simple little question: How bad can a character be?

Thankfully, there’s one villain who decided to answer that question for me... in song form.

Psycho Analysis: The Once-ler

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

Yeah, I’m finally talking about everyone’s favorite greedy bastard who, back in some of the darkest days of Tumblr history, ended up being the premier sexyman on the website. People were thirsting over this twiggy weirdo, acting as if he were God’s gift to women and shipping him with alternate versions of himself. Much like the movie he’s from, he is now incredibly hard to take seriously.

But hey, speaking of alternate versions of himself, I’m going to be covering him from the original book and the animated short film as well. Might as well just knock it all out of the park at once, right? Now let’s see how ba-a-a-ad this guy can be.

Motivation/Goals: The Once-ler is all about biggering. He’s making thneeds (things that everyone needs) and he is gonna stop at nothing to craft these things. Not even the power of the Lorax, Danny DeVito or otherwise, is going to stay his hand from getting that sweet, soft Truffula fluff to make his wares. This is ultimately a little unrealistic, at least for the Illumination version; if Danny DeVito asked me not to do something, I’d listen, no questions asked.

Performance: In the animated special, Bob Holt does double duty, as he is portraying both Once-ler and the title character. It works really well for what they’re going for, and the double casting is interesting because it highlights the ultimate role of the Lorax as the Once-ler’s conscience given form.

In the film, Ed Helms portrays the Once-ler, and he’s fine. He’s certainly better casting than Audrey, but that’s not particularly saying much considering that’s a non-singing Taylor Swift (when Cats is able to utilize Taylor Swift better than your musical, you know there’s trouble). I don’t know, Ed Helms is fun and all, but I’m just not sure his take on the Once-ler is all too compelling overall.

Final Fate: In the original book and the special, the Once-ler wins… but even he realizes it’s a terrible, pointless victory, and all he has achieved is ruin, his family leaving him, his business ultimately collapsing, and the environment permanently damaged. He’s left as a miserable, jaded hermit, broken by the bleak consequences his greedy actions have sown upon the world and only able to tell his story and pass on the last Truffula seed in the hopes that maybe, maybe someday the trees can regrow and the Lorax will return. The Illumination version follows this but then tacks on a happy ending  where the Lorax and Once-ler reunite because as we know ambiguity and bittersweet endings cannot exist in children’s films.

Best Scene: Obviously it’s the scene where he shakes his ass to seduce Jack Frost, in one of the greatest gay romances ever put to film.

Joking aside, it is undoubtedly his villain song. It has become such a meme, but real talk? “How Bad Can I Be” slaps. This is a really good song, probably too good for the movie but you know what, I’ll take it.

Best Quote: HOW BA-A-A-AD CAN I BE? Yes, I’m using a line from his villain song. Sue me.

Final Thoughts & Score: What can one really say about the movie version of the Once-ler that hasn’t already been run into the ground? Well, how about… He’s not too bad, honestly? Like, yes, he has next to nothing to do with his book counterpart and they really go way too far into trying to make a capitalist pig sympathetic… but the animated special from the 70s did that too. I think the Once-ler honestly works better when there is a dash of complexity to him and he isn’t just a simple-minded Captain Planet villain.

Of course, the issue here is that the 70s version took a simpler approach, kind of less is more. The 70s Once-ler brings up some valid points to the Lorax about his work, and the Lorax can’t help but agree that there’s no easy answer while also stressing that the environmental devastation is still really, really bad. It works, it feels complex, and it arguably helps the ultimate point that we need to protect the environment better than even the book did (and I love the book, don’t get me wrong, but its take on the Once-ler is a bit too simple for its own good; it almost runs into the Femme Fatale problem by being a bit too much of a strawman). The movie version has a bit too much going on, especially with his family. His family are much more blatantly evil, greedy, and manipulative, but they’re relegated to the background for much of the film and don’t effect things all that much. The whole narrative would have been infinitely stronger if they were the greater scope villains behind Once-ler and were who needed to be defeated and maybe taught a lesson, but instead they are ignored in favor of someone I’ll address very shortly.

All of this leaves movie Once-ler feeling extremely disjointed, but not irredeemably so. As I said before, his villain song is unironically awesome, and as lame as it is compared to the more haunting, contemplative ending of the book and the special, I’m not so much of a curmudgeon that I didn’t at least smile when he finally reconciled with the Lorax. Ultimately though, him being memed to death really didn’t help his case, but it means I’m not giving the movie version anything less than a 3/10. He might in fact be the best “so bad it’s good” villain ever, or at least up there. He’s just so undeniably enjoyable even if the narrative isn’t making him as complex as it thinks it is. The animated special version gets a 9/10, the book version is a 7/10, and the Once-ler’s family gets a 5/10 for being an interesting concept they sadly do little with, which will now be elaborated on as I follow up on the foreshadowing from the last paragraph...

Psycho Analysis: Aloysius O’Hare

Remember how I said the Once-ler’s family gets ignored in favor of someone else? Here he is, Aloysius O’Hare, one of the absolute lamest villains ever put to screen.

Motivation/Goals: He’s greedy. That’s it. I’m not kidding. He’s just a cartoonish caricature of a rich person, which still makes him a realistic portayal but also makes him boring as sin compared to the wacky dude with a big musical number about how bad he can be.

Performance: Rob Riggle does a decent job, but there’s really not much for him to work with here. This character is a cardboard cutout who exists to be as cartoonishly greedy and evil as possible with no nuance so the kids know who to root against and so that Once-ler doesn’t look bad in comparison.

Final Fate: Look, he’s a blatantly evil corporate villain in a kid’s movie about the environment. Of course he gets defeated and everyone turns on him. What’s especially funny though is that, on the brink of learning his lesson, he rejects any form of redemption and just goes whole hog on being a villain.

Best Scene: I will absolutely give him this: in the face of his ultimate defeat, after having the virtues of trees sung to him and the entire town turning on him, he for a moment contemplates turning over a new leaf… and then absolutely rejects the thought and instead decides being evil is just too much fun, at which point he tries to get everyone back on his side by seeing a funny little song about death while wavedashing. If more shitty villains did this, I don’t think there would be shitty villains.

Best Quote: LET IT DIE, LET IT DIE, LET IT SHRIVEL UP AND DIE! Yes I’m quoting a song again.

Final Thoughts & Score: Look, I’m not gonna mine words here: O’Hare sucks. Big time. He is a prime example of why The Lorax failed as an adaptation. In a story that is dealing with a moral grayness with no easy answers, O’Hare is just a big, blatant target, a dark shade of black in terms of black-and-white morality. He’s like a reject Captain Planet villain with Edna Mode’s haircut.

The movie would have been infinitely better if, instead of him, the Once-ler’s family were in control of the town, and they needed to learn the lesson about saving the trees instead of simply vanishing from the story. They were shown to be overbearing, manipulative, and greedy, and they had a much more personal connection with Once-ler being, you know, his actual family. The fact they abandon him and never really get any sort of comeuppance despite being perhaps the most evil people in the move, egging on Once-ler and taking full advantage of him, makes O’Hare all the more egregious, because there could have been some strong thematic elements that would have tied the film together and made it come off as much less preachy and more nuanced.

But we don’t live in a world where that happened, we live in a world where we got O’Hare. Aside from some genuine hilarity from him at the end, O’Hare really adds very little to the film. I gotta give him a 2/10, but I will say he’s a lot closer to a 3 than he is to a 1; there’s no denying his absolute rejection of learning a moral is absolutely hilarious. I love when villains do that. It’s just a shame those funny moments are wrapped up in something monumentally unimpressive.

#Psycho Analysis #The Once-ler #The Lorax #Ed Helms #Aloysius O'Hare #Rob Riggle

[alotsgonnachange]

Mystic Messenger Saeran’s AE Thoughts (.......And Prayers..) #Spoilerz

Hello, I just finished Saeran’s after ending and I have a lot of things to say and I am going to write it down while I'm still all keyed up about it.

First of all… Please DO NOT ask me how much money I spent to finish this as fast as I did…. I’m grown but my bank account is certainly going to have a good ole fashioned CHUCKLE at this….. It’s been a long quarantine I deserve a lil happiness as a treat methinks!

I have been playing this absolutely insane game since I think 2016? When I first started playing the deep routes had JUST come out I think? And I was just finishing up high school and am now a college grad...lmao

I’ve played all routes at least once except Jaehee but i’ve seen walkthroughs of her route (I’ve heard it makes you hate Jumin and he’s my favorite so um. hehe). V’s and Saeran’s routes I found to be so emotionally intense and just….a lot and I've been waiting a long ass god damn time for this after ending okay…. I would theorize and make up an ending in my head but i’m no writer so it was hard to figure out lol. I’m a Jumin stan mostly but I love everybody and yeah I should probably play that jumin dlc too but I need like a DAY to recover from Saeran’s AE. Enough about me HERE are my thoughts on it overall

Major Saeran AE Spoilers under da cut!

Can we please discuss V showing up to the C+R conference room with basically chloroform and made everybody Pass Out like??? I was alone in my room at like midnight just SCREAMING at my phone???? And the creepy ass CG ???? It’s like that gif of sarah paulson from ahs being like “I put arsenic in the wine….and the pasta”

Anyway I screamed at V a lot during this process!!

Loved RFA being sweet and kind to saeran (before V fucking drugged them…)

This is such common V behavior “I have to do it all myself...there’s no other way..” GIRL SHUT UPPP You do this every route....

SO many CG’s and I enjoy them a lot

Saeran’s sprite looks a little TOO crisp compared to everyone else but maybe its a glitch??? V next to him is in 480p while saeran is like 1080p

Hearing both Saeran and Saeyoung missing the other brother the whole time??? PAIN. All my homies know is PAIN

BOSS and his V for Vendetta ass guy fawkes mask??? I literally yelled “this game is TERRIBLE!!” several times at my phone

Their dad is so>??????? When he was sitting on the couch with saeyoung in that one CG while simultaneously telling him to kill himself?????????? Maybe chairman han is actually the best dad in this game somehow

When V and Rika were like we’re back together teehee teehee okay pack it up bonnie and clyde ..

When chairman han calls u and says hes jealous of u and saeran…..HUH????? I’m calling HR

When they go to the apartment and see boss and vanderwood and poor saeyoung is sitting there seeing his brother for the first time in years i wanted to D word sooooo bad like PAIN...PAIN….

Can we HAVE A DISCUSSION ABOUT JUMIN HAN BEING THE BEST CHARACTER IN THE GAME AND HE LOST EVERYTHING IN THIS AE……. he just took the blame and moved on jumin what the hell….. I love him so much r we serious? He watched his 2 closest friends betray him in the worst way and found out abt how Rika abused Saeyoung and Saeran???? I felt just AWFUL. Terrible ...Terrible….

Rika’s change in demeanor from Saeran's actual route is certainly a Choice. I find her much more bearable this time around and unfortunately i think I was too nice to her and ended up with a bad end LMFAO

I was happy to see Saeran stand up for himself and become stronger and confident. You go king!

The CG of Yoosung laying in Zen’s lap is everything to me…

HOWEVER YUP I sure did get a bad ending and I was so mad fdsafdskfdhsf ! (I would be happy to clarify how I got the good one the second time.) MAKE SURE To SAVE EARLY in days 2 and 3 bc the branches on day 4 is where the bad end will show up. For me it was the first day 4 chat and then a story mode titled “SAVIOR”.... If you see that RUN FOR THE HILLS!!

I was so mad! But I had saved in day 2 and replayed and MANAGED to get good end

I’m obsessed with everyone calling V and Rika “that psychotic couple” like…..its true its true…

No those two are so toxic… V’s route was torture watching them go on and on about the sun like yo can yall just call each other babe like normal people.

I respect straight people but not V and RIka that shit was just wrong… Straight marriage was a mistake

Oh lord i also FULLY Forgot Rika killed the twins’ mother…. Yeah that scene was um Certainly a lot but it needed to happen eventually

Like it’s good they know but damn that storyline is just so bleak

I think it was satisfying TO A DEGREE….To see Rika understand where she was wrong, why she was wrong, fess up and even APOLOGIZE! I was very surprised.

Saeran and Saeyoung are Certainly twins with the amount that those two self sacrifice in every route MY GOD…..

The scene with Jumin talking to his father and the other scene of him praying oh my god I cannot tell you how happy I was to see him begin to understand and address his own feelings in a route that was not his own. My main problem with Jumin’s route has always been the trapping MC in his penthouse aspect.. This way Jumin understands love and emotions without being overly possessive !!! YAY also loved seeing him be on good terms with his dad who was surprisingly profound

That last Story mode was Really a Lot…. and Strange things occurred which I will get into in just a minute

Jumin becoming a politician is so funny but ngl … i see it.

Yoosung going to france to study pastries ok king I see u! (it made more sense to me than the vet thing anyway)

Lastly Zen FURRY ERA

MY BEEF With the AE

I was happy with how they handled it for the most part. I think Cheritz heard our feedback about V’s after ending and was like okay….let’s try something different

HOWEVER

Saeran…. Sweet kind saeran… IS SO AFFECTIONATE HAHA….

He must have said I love you like 300 times…..very mushy gushy flowery language...and maybe that’s just his personality but for me it was like eating cake with buttercream cake. It means well, but god damn is it sugary and going to cause a stomach ache later.

He was just… SO MUCH! SO forward and ON all the time in his affections. I honestly felt kind of smothered and by day 3 and 4 I was sooooo over all the compliments… King you’ve come a very long way, but ur still putting MC on a pedestal and probably need to see a therapist.

Nextly….Rika and V….. Naw that knock out gas really ...that hurt lol. Coming from “I would do anything to protect RFA” V? Idk like…. EYE felt betrayed reading that. It was just hurtful. I can’t even imagine how the members would have felt as they were passing out. It was just so cruel. I suppose I understand why but like?? Just TERRIBLE

Them being in cahoots with the agency and the prime minister..HUH??? Also too much

V just felt so irresponsible like I do understand that he ended up in a weird web of secrets that’s hard to untangle but he’s so fucking stubborn he’s SO stubborn it makes me insane. Like sir… It seems like in other routes he wanted to try to protect Rika and the RFA.. But in this AE it seems more to me that he was like yeah i’m protecting Rika and That’s It… so fucking hurtful to me. Both of y’all apologize ESPECIALLY to the twins and Jumin..

The forgiveness thing…… Okay so I think some people will not like that Saeran decided to “forgive” the people who hurt him (Rika, V, Saejoong, his mother). I would point out that I actually think this was approached somewhat well. He says at one point that he doesn’t think they’re good or bad, just people. I think he sounded mature and like this was the way for him personally to accomplish his healing process. Would I have loved for Saeran to flip V and Rika off and kick Saejoong off a cliff? Yea I really would. But like…. If that’s what HE needs to do to heal then who am I to judge?

HOWEVER…. Everything Eye just said goes out the window when the scenes at the end with Saejoong come up… I was PERPLEXED. Like why did he HUG his deranged father who just kicked the shit out of him??? Also all the chat options that MC has with him r like blah blah you’re like this because no one loves you were so corny to me LMFAOOOO?

AND WHEN HE WAS IN THE ROOM LATER WITH SAERAN… i’m sorry but if that were me I would have called a nurse to deck his ass. Cool he turned himself in YOU SUCK SOOOO BAD AND I NEVER WANT YOU TO COME NEAR SAEYOUNG AND SAERAN AGAIN THANKS.

*scratches ass* I wish I got to see saeyoung and saeran finally sit down and have that first conversation after a long time and hug CG but the ending was fine I GUESS….. I dont care about ROMANCE I want those boys to be happy brothers together

Anyway that was really emotionally exhausting but I fr think I got it out of my system after literal years… And I can rest in peace knowing the choi twins are happy. THATS ALL I WANTED TO KNOW!!!!

#Saeran Choi #Saeran AE #Saeran after ending #Saeran AE spoilers #Mystic messenger #Mysme #Saeran after ending spoilers #mystic messenger spoilers

[scorched-light]

Here is my The Last of Us Part 2 review for anyone who is interested to know about the leaks and if the story was done any justice. The answer is the leaks were basically on point and no. No it was not. Spoilers below, don't read on if you're after a spoiler free review. Final warning: End of Game Spoilers for The Last of Us Part 2!!! Do not read if you don't want spoilers!

Okay. As someone who adores the first game, it pains me to say this but I'm so disappointed with this overpriced horror show. A complete deconstruction of the first game and the characters you developed a connection to therein. Just a complete brutality to basically every character new and old, and the whole franchise's reputation.

Joel announcing his name to a group of strangers he already seemed suspicious of despite knowing that people could be looking for him after what he did was so forced and out of character. This man hit a guy with his truck on the off chance that he might be faking his injuries. He was always super cautious, wary of strangers, and aware of his surroundings.

Ellie walking in on Joel getting beaten to death, GUN IN HAND, and not immediately shooting Abby was also incredibly ooc. Even if she was shocked, this is the girl who shot a man at age 14 to save Joel, here she charges in through the door instead of shooting when she's had years worth of experience shooting first and asking questions later. A lot of the ooc stuff she does after his death is excusable by her obvious trauma up until the ending, at least, but it's still bad writing.

Poor writing, not just in the overall story but also in terms of the characters, is literally used as a gratuitous stepping stone (AKA a shameless excuse) to get to all of the brutal, gorey violence. Not to mention it ends in a bleak way with no silver lining at all. Compare that to the way the first one, while bleak in nature still had its nice moments. Its moments of "ya know what maybe this hellscape is worth sticking around for." It made you feel things. The giraffe scene? Running out of the hospital holding Ellie as Joel gently, desperately tells her she's okay? Beautiful, complexly emotional moments But this game? I'd get more emotional fulfillment shoving fingernail clippings up my ass hole.

Don't get me wrong, I expected it to be bleak. The tone of the game is post-apocalypse. It revolves around death and the ugliness of man and yes yes it's all very grim. That kind of prepares you for how this isn't going to be a totally happy story. But everything they built up and established in the first game is just burned to the ground.

All the gameplay is basically the same as the first with some exploration buffs and NPC tweeks, companion AI feels clunkier now but a lot of the interactions between your people and between enemies outside of cutscenes feels very fluid and natural. That said, a lot of the stuff that's good about the game is done in flashbacks to when Ellie was younger. The actual current story they're telling had potential but the executuion is poor.

The game is trying so hard to get a specific reaction while blowing holes in why and how you should feel that way. We are supposed to empathise with Abby just because we are exposed to her when we're forced to play as her? We are supposed to think bad of Ellie when she killed Mel after Mel attacked her first instead of just pleading "I'm pregnant!"?

Abby killed the man that saved her life brutally and mercilessly. She wasn't able to empathise at all, but you are expected to empathise with her? She even goes on to have a similar, protective sort of relationship with Lev as Joel did with Ellie. Maybe not in a parental way, but the parallels are still there. A notable one is when she's carrying Lev bridal style in her arms off of the island, the same way Joel carried Ellie.

The writing even frames Ellie as being bad, killing a pregnant woman (even though she didn't know and upon finding out, falls to her knees and heaves), and frames Abby as good/the victim, helping and protecting Lev, a victim of transphobia, and slowly discovering and watching more and more of her friends as they die. They try to manipulate you as the player with bad writing.

It really could have been a good story had they spent more time on Ellie working through her feelings towards Joel and his decision to save her. Maybe Abby kills Tommy so Joel can know what it's like to lose a loved one, maybe Ellie is forced to join with him again on their journey for revenge, maybe she more or less HAS to face up to what happened while begrudgingly working with him. Especially after her constantly telling him she doesn't need his help.

He still could have died, maybe before they *really* fix everything. Maybe he gets bitten, that'd be poetic, he robbed humanity of the cure and then died to the infection. Ellie has to face up to the fact that he'd be alive if she had died, and he has to face that too. He also wouldn't have been bitten at all had he not been out for revenge in the first place, so his death would be the price of them wanting revenge for revenge, AND be a much better way of showcasing the cycle of loss being the cycle of revenge in a way that doesn't come across as incredibly redundant for the environment they're in. Ellie really would be The Last of Us. The last of the iconic duo that gave the series its incredible reputation. She could go on to kill Abby and realise it's not made her feel any better, now they've lost Tommy AND Joel, and nothing is going to bring Joel back.

ANYTHING would have been better than what we got. Joel's death 2 hours in was super premature and such a meaningless way to go for a character like Joel. Not to mention the character that looks like Neil Druckman spitting on his corpse but whatever, I digress.

All of this and the fact that the ending is not at aaaaall worth it makes this feel so incredibly soulless. They wanted to go down the route of "is there really a good guy in this kind of world?", and that idea could have worked even for the grim reality in which the story takes place. But then they butcher the execution, force you to play as the character who beat Joel to death for a massive portion of the game, and leave off with a terrible ending.

!Here come the end of game spoilers!

Ellie stated in the first game that she's most afraid of ending up alone, and they did that to her. She suddenly realises that Killing Is Wrong after slaughtering countless men and women to get to this moment with Abby. She is in the middle of drowning her and suddenly lets her live. This woman killed Joel, almost killed Dina. In fact, upon hearing that Dina was pregnant from a battered and bleeding Ellie, she says "Good.", and proceeds to almost slit her throat only that Lev stops her. But Ellie suddenly forgets all of that and lets her leave.

Ellie goes back to the farm she and Dina were living on with their baby only to find Dina has left, as she warned Ellie she would if she leaves for revenge again. The revenge Ellie didn't even get. She goes into a room and sees her guitar in its case. She pulls it out and learns she can no longer play the way Joel showed her all those years ago because she had her fingers bitten off during the struggle with Abby. She props the guitar up by the window, almost as if in memory of the man who taught her to play, and leaves it behind. She has no use for it now. Ellie walks through the field outside, alone. Joel dead. Tommy partially paralysed but his characterisation definitely got massacred. Dina gone. Cut to credits. Game over.

There isn't even a slither of happiness in this game. Was the lesson "revenge is bad"? Because if so, they should have rolled the credits as soon as Abby killed Joel and told players "if that made you uncomfortable, do not seek revenge." In big writing before rolling the credits.

Either way the ending would leave you shifting uncomfortably with a bad taste in your mouth.

I won't even go into how the trailers lied. "You think I'd let you do this alone?" Tell that to Abby's driver. I'm interested to see how quickly the price drops on the PlayStation Store. Even if it gets cheap, I wouldn't bother subjecting yourself to this trashfire.

#The Last of Us #The Last of Us Part 2 #The Last of Us Part II #TLoU pt 2 #TLoU2 #Ellie #Joel #Spoilers #The Last of Us Spoilers #The Last of Us Part 2 Spoilers

[pidgeonspen]

Assorted IDW thoughts

Let me preface this by saying Ian Flynn is not a perfect writer. 

I personally believe his greatest weakness is in writing this long, spanning arcs. We’ve seen this even in Archie with the Mecha Sally arc, and in post-reboot with the Shattered World Crisis arc. And it’s reared it’s ugly head again with the Zombot arc in IDW.

He also has a habit of favoring certain characters and trying a little too hard to argue why they’re good/likeable - this was especially a problem with Sally in his early run. 

With that said: I mostly enjoyed the Zombot Arc. I am someone who has been absolutely exhausted by media’s fixation on Zombies, but I found the Zombot arc... endearing, actually. 

The Zombot concept was a fun, fresh take and arguably more nightmarish than the average zombie, in that they were largely indestructible and you’d only need the slightest touch to be infected. And again, they couldn’t be put down.

An unfortunately common criticism I hear about the series is that this arc was “too dark” for a Sonic the hedgehog comic, which I find to be an odd take.

The Sonic series has always dipped its toes into darker concepts. We have the bad ending from Sonic 2, and far less implied is the death of Maria Robotnik in Sonic Adventure 2 - in which we witness, as part of Shadow’s backstory: an unarmed, terminally ill 12-year-old girl being shot and killed.

In that same game, Eggman acquired a super space Fuck You cannon and destroyed a part of the moon, and made a very clear threat to fire it at the Earth.

Sonic Adventure 1 showed us an entire civilization that was wiped out after harming a bunch of innocent Chao and angering a god. Perfect Chaos leveled an entire populated city - even if you make the argument that an evacuation was put in effect and nobody died (which I don’t believe), that’s still an entire city’s worth of people who are now homeless.

There was also Sonic Battle and Emerl’s entire plight, which saw the entire main cast coming together to raise this robot like a sibling, who all loved him and were loved by him in turn, and ended with Sonic having to kill him. 

Sonic and The Secret Rings had Shahra die on-screen. I mean, she got better but still.

And don’t get me started on all the fucked up things that happen during the events of  the Shadow the Hedgehog game.

The point is, the Sonic the Hedgehog series has always had these bleak, dark moments. I don’t feel like the Zombot Arc was any darker than what we’ve already seen in this series. We’ve seen these characters backed into corners, we’ve seen on-screen deaths, we’ve seen these characters break before.

I feel like this criticism is misdirected; I think when people say the arc was too dark, what they mean is that it’s too long.  If we’re counting the Zombot saga starting at issue 15 (when Rough & Tumble got infected), this story arc has been going on for... 14 issues. With delays in mind, this arc feels like it dragged its feet horribly. 

Now, with regards to Characterization...

I think we all can agree SEGA’s recent takes on Shadow’s character are ass. There, I said it. Taking away all the development he had over the course of SA2, Heroes, ShTH and other instances - and making it so he apparently doesn’t consider Rouge and Omega his friends - is such a mind-numbingly stupid move.

Ian usually writes a good Shadow (seriously, Sonic Universe arcs “The Shadow Saga”, “Treasure Team Tango”  - both pre-reboot arcs - and “Shadowfall” + “Total Eclipse” from the post reboot were really good!) but these mandates on Shadow’s character kill me. 

But unfortunately, Shadow isn’t the only character who suffered during this arc. Eggman started off the arc really well, but his choices and lackadaisical attitude towards how rapidly his plan spiraled out of control was so wildly OOC and frankly, dumb. It was frustrating to read through and didn’t feel like Ian’s usual mastermind Eggman.  It read as though Ian hit a bump in which he realized he needed a work around for why Eggman wasn’t doing anything about losing control over the Zombots and  decided to just have him not care. I can’t remember if a reason for this characterization was ever given. 

 Now, this on the other hand...

This is a scene I’ve seen people rag on for being OOC for Tails, and even comparing it to the abysmal portrayal we got in Forces. 

Here’s the thing: I don’t think this was OOC for Tails. 

Lets look at Tails’ characterizations in, say, the Adventure-era games. His entire character arc in both was him realizing his own potential as someone who can stand on his own two feet, without needing to rely on Sonic. And he did it! By SA2, Tails has achieved his own independence. 

When he believes Eggman has truly killed Sonic, Tails is sad, but he’s also determined to stop Eggman, to keep fighting no matter what and hold his head high, because he knows he can do this. He won’t let Sonic’s faith in him be misplaced. 

... But this isn’t like that situation, now is it?

Lets review Tails’ ploy over the course of this arc: He studied Sonic to the best of his abilities to try and discover how to cure his friend. He was confident and certain he could figure it out.

But the infection kept spreading. People - innocent people - were being claimed by the outbreak, and the pressure began to build. People Tails knew and cared about were being turned. The situation was growing more and more desperate. 

All the while, they slowly lost faith in Sonic, who was showing signs of fatigue. We also know from when Tangle was infected that the transformation into a Zombot is uncomfortable, if not painful. 

People around Tails were suffering, losing loved ones - and we, as the audience, knew that nobody was actually dead from this, but the characters don’t. Silver came from a future where the whole world became infected.

And just as soon as Tails came close to solving everything, it was all cruelly ripped away. Every time they thought they had a solution, it was lost. 

When the Zombots reached Angel Island,Sonic was at the point where he could hardly fight the infection off anymore. Zavok was advancing. They’d lost poor little Cream. They lost Knuckles. 

And Tails was slowly succumbing to the infection. 

I don’t think this was OOC. I think it made perfect sense, because the world was literally falling apart right in front of Tails’ eyes, and unlike SA2, there was nothing he could do about it at this point. He’s being infected and watching his friends fall while knowing that Silver’s future is a possible outcome.

He’s having to resort to pleading Sonic to succeed because this poor kid has watched the world fall before his eyes - and worse yet, he came so close to having the means to save it. 

I don’t agree that strong characters breaking makes them OOC. I think this serves to show just how broken Tails is by everything that’s happened, how bleak the situation is, and how genuinely scared he is. And who could blame him?

In conclusion, I think IDW Sonic has its flaws - Ian has some serious faults as a writer, but he’s also really good and has a clear passion for the series and characters. 

I enjoyed this arc for the most part - I just wish it had been trimmed down some. 

#IDW Sonic #felt rambley today uwu

[vikingsagine]

A Trip Down Memory Lane (Ivar x Reader)

Hey guys, this is a second part to, My Loyalty is Yours, I hope you like it. By the way, I love Ivar. I love how complicated he is. Although, I do miss season 5 Ivar where he’s a bit psycho and confident. And I miss his braids. Love them braids so much. Sorry for any spelling mistakes.

Summary: Small things remind you of Ivar. Reminding you to when times were happier and easier and how your relationship with Ivar really was. 

Warnings : Very looonnnggggg. (sorry guys) Swearing, violence, slight smut. Rough. But not all the way. FLUFFY, I think. Margrethe (I hate her so much)

You sat with a lazy smile, optics observing the training men in front of you with Ubbe in front, yelling orders and stepping in to spar men with consistent mistakes. A week ago, you stood on a private trial with Bjorn Ironside to decide what to do with you. In the end, he came to terms with the rest of his ‘council’ to keep you alive and in the town of Kattegat. He said letting you go would be dangerous assuming you’d head to find Ivar, even though you said you wouldn’t, but also your battle abilities and strategies were much useful. You agreed because to be quite frank, you didn’t want to leave Kattegat, not yet. 

“Y/N, are you just going to watch or are you going to get off your lazy ass and do something.” Ubbe called, snapping you out of your thoughts with that familiar smug smirk and taunting stare. It felt different, not having Ivar around, it made you confused and almost empty. He was your best friend and first love after all. Wherever he went, you went too. Like a dog to a Mother’s tit. 

“Are you challenging me, horsetail?” You jumped off your feet and pulled your axe from the ground, returning the cocky grin and confident attitude. Ubbe took a step forward, pulling the sword up and pointing it towards you. 

“It wouldn’t be much of a challenge defeating you, little girl.” The next, your axe and sword met in a friendly and welcoming manner. This reminded you of the old days, when you trained and sparred with the sons of Ragnar.

~~~

“Surely you can do better than that.”  Ubbe remarked as you groaned on the ground, broken nose in your hand and bled. The older male by six years had finished head butting you and cracked your nose, now, standing over you like the champion. Hvitserk and Sigurd cheered, hollering as they both watched you and Ubbe spar. 

“Keep flapping your gums pretty boy and I’ll make you cry to your Mother.” You cooed and spat blood onto the floor, then shoved your nose back into place with a crack. A groan left your lips while Ubbe snorted, crossing his arms with a clear expression of enjoying you writhe in pain. Asshole, you thought. 

“Aww, you think I’m pretty.” 

“That’s not much of a comment coming from her.” You glared towards Ivar who snarled a bold insult. He sat on a stool a few feet away from his two other brothers, also eyeing the fist fight on display. “What? It’s true.” The bright blue eyed boy flicked his fingers towards your face, more specifically, the scar engraved into the side of your left cheek. Long and twisted, reaching from the corner of your mouth and arched into a smile just under your left eye. Huffing out of annoyance, your leg swung under Ubbe’s and knocked him onto his ass, using this moment of distraction to your advantage. Ubbe groaned, while Hvitserk laughed, mocking his older brother by a few years. You pulled the axe from his side and threw it towards Ivar, successfully landing it an inch above his head with a thump.

“Mock me again cripple and I swear by the Gods-”

“That you’ll kill me?” Ivar snorted and crossed his arms. “You can’t, remember. Or have you forgotten. I’m your master.” Of course, you thought, he always took any opportunity to remind you of the unique relationship you two shared. Insisting that he was your ‘master’ and you, his ‘slave’. It angered you every time.

“Yes, you’re right.” Wiping the blood with the back of your sleeve, you laid back next to Ubbe with an exhausted sigh. “But it doesn’t mean I can’t hurt you.” Ivar rolled his eyes again at your comment, glaring holes into the side of your face. 

~~~

The night started to set, the stars illuminating in the sky like spots of light in the abyss of darkness. Bleak wind pushing against your raw cheeks, turning them red and making you shiver. You sat silently by yourself once again, outside of the hall where the echoes of another feast and drunken vikings sang. It wasn’t really your scene. You hated large gatherings of people, the bodies of strangers pushing up against you like mud was suffocating. Instead, you liked to listen, to hear their joy and songs and the lack of sorrow or pain. 

“What are you thinking about?” Lagertha called from behind you. She had seen you flee the feast after a meal and decided to follow you. Not out of suspicion of you doing something terrible but out of curiosity. Lagertha had heard many tales of the small girl, your bold and skilled fighting. The many people you have slaughtered, children, old people, warriors, Christians alike. It was impressive but haunting.

“Nothing really, just enjoying the view and the music.” You turned your head to Lagertha, surprised by her sudden appearance but shifted enough for her to take a seat. You knew Lagertha, she was an inspiration to all shield-maidens out there. She still is. Even at this age.

“Will you betray my son?” Lagertha inquired, a stern and serious expression crossing her facials. It made you smile. You have heard many stories of Lagertha of her skill in the battlefield, even how people whisper about her being the shield-maiden protected by the Gods. But, in all honesty, all that was nothing compared to her love for her son, her family. 

“I will be true to you, Lagertha.” You cocked your head to the side. “One day, I will seek Ivar and return to his side. I will fight for him and I will die for him. But, until that day comes, for now, my body and knowledge will remain here.” 

“Hmm.” Lagertha replied in content. “Why do you not kill me?”

“Because I do not hate you. You have inspired me. Ivar is the one who sought to kill you, not me. It was his ambition and mine, my ambition is to serve him well and perhaps, bring him happiness.” A small smile made its way to your lips, the image of Ivar’s genuine grin and soft eyes. The memory melted your heart.

~~~

“Tell me, have you ever laid with anyone before?” Hvitserk inquired by your side, leaning over and knocking you a little. You laughed at his question, the jolt of a sudden euphoria slipping into your veins. You were drinking with the prince’s of Kattegat, all curled over the fire seeking out warmth and comfort. 

“Please tell me you aren’t trying to flirt with me, dear Hvitserk.”You cooed, his flirtatious smirk all too familiar because you’ve seen him use it before, on many other women in Kattegat. Whenever he was drunk, Hvitserk had the tendency to try and fuck anything with a pair of boobs and a pussy. 

“And what if I am?” He leaned closer, eyelids heavy and slurring over his words. It was clear to see, he was far too drunk and horny. “Is it working?” He attempted to press his lips against yours but you only pressed your palm against his face and knocked him off his seat. Ubbe laughed at the sight of his intoxicated brother, desperately flirting with Y/N but failed. 

“Get off me you drunken bastard.” You gave Hvitserk a soft kick to the ass and sat back down, laughing with Sigurd who pulled his brother up to sit next to him.

“One day, I swear, you will be mine.” Hvitserk slurred, his eyes closed but his finger on you. Then he curled over and hurled into the bucket that Sigurd, thankfully, had. Everyone knew how Hvitserk drank. He drank until he dropped. 

“Please, no one would want to fuck with that.” Ivar suddenly piped up, deciding to speak. The fire illuminating over his face, giving Ivar a dark glow. Ubbe scoffed out of annoyance, knowing  Ivar’s sour words like he found pleasure from humiliating people. And Ivar did. He enjoyed it. “Not even a blind man.” You were used to his insults and rolled your eyes, sculling the last bit of your drink. Before Ubbe could tell his baby brother off for his rude behavior, you stood up and took shaky steps over to him. 

“Oh please, Ivar.” Without hesitation, you slumped on the crippled boy’s lap with a smile. Ivar hissed at the rough impact on his legs, immediately glaring at your tipsy state. “Maybe a blind man wouldn’t, but perhaps a cripple would.” You threw your head back in laughter, enjoying how Ivar’s face turned into a scowl and looked at you like he was going to kill you. The next you were knocked onto the floor with a crash, the world becoming dizzy. 

“I will kill you.” Ivar muttered under his breath as you clumsily took a seat next to the crippled, still amused by his reaction. Most people feared Ivar, even his brother’s, but you were the only one that wasn’t intimidated and treated him like a normal person. 

“Uh huh and you’ll get functional legs.” Ubbe tensed, analyzing his brother for a dangerous response to your bold comment that most people would earn Ivar’s wrath. He glanced over to Sigurd who was also well-aware of the situation, becoming nervous and ready to pull you away from Ivar. You on the other hand, knew the consequence of your comment but still held your teasing gleam. Ivar cracked a large and toothy smile, his eyes softened with the fire illuminating his relaxed state. The sound of his laugh filled the tense hall and your heart fluttered at the sight and sound. 

~~~

The door swung open, revealing the sight of a blonde woman with a pregnant stomach. In her arms was a small little girl, you remember as Elsa. Daughter to Torvi and Bjorn Ironside. Both of you stared at each other, unknowing of what to say. 

“Is Ubbe here?” You finally broke the awkward silence, avoiding eye contact and straightened your stance. She moved aside to let you in, closing the door behind you. 

“Yes, he is changing his clothes. He will be ready soon, I hope.” You sat down on a stool, near the table. You felt like a complete stranger that no one trusted, not that it surprised you. Everyone had their guard up around you as if you’d suddenly attack and bring Ivar back. Sometimes, the people of Kattegat would snarl awful comments about you such as being Ivar’s bitch or child murderer and so forth. “I do not trust you nor do I believe you deserve to be in Kattegat.” Torvi spoke truthfully but it did not shock you. “But, my husband seems to. He speaks fondly of you.” You drew your lips in a thin line, watching her as she stirred soup in a pot for the hungry children. 

“I see.” Was the only thing you could come up with. You knew Ubbe loved you, loved you like a little sister and a close friend. You remember when you sat by Ivar’s side along with Hvitserk, you remembered the stare of a broken man. His heart was crushed. More so by Hvitserk’s decision, but disappointed when he saw you. It hurt to say the least, but it did not waver your loyalty or judgment. He knew from the start that you would always choose Ivar, always. You let out a sigh, furrowing your eyebrows together. Ubbe still had hopes that you’d stay and fight. It was your responsibility to break it, to destroy that idea for the sake of you and him. “I will talk to him.” 

“Momma, can you braid my hair? I want to look just like Lagertha.” Else tugged at her Mother’s dress with hopeful big brown orbs.

“Not right now.” You were unaccustomed to such sights or the feeling. Children weren’t really your speciality. Your behaviour far too rough and blunt, not to mention your appearance wasn’t at all friendly. Nor was the constant cold and emotionless mask. 

“Here, let me.” Torvi eyes you skeptically but continues with the soup. The small girl giddily approached you, no fear but a sweet beam. She patiently sat between your legs as you run your fingers through her soft blonde curls. The feeling felt nostalgic and your fingers felt an itch. An itch of memory.

~~~

“What is it that you want? You do realize I need sleep too.” You stepped into the room of your prince, rubbing your eyes from tiredness and exhaustion. That day, everyone was preparing themselves to return to Wessex England to get revenge for the death of Ragnar Lothbrok. Ivar laid in his bed, hips down covered by fur and blankets looking warm and cosy. Revealing his upper body, muscular and strong which didn’t come to any surprise since most of his life he’s been crawling. 

“Braid my hair.” He simply demanded and patted the spot next to you. You shivered from the bite of cold lingering at night, even inside the halls of his home. “Are you just gonna stand there and stare all night?” Ivar growled and you instantly scurried over to the man. You weren’t unfamiliar with the bed, having slept in it before. You lost your virginity in the bed, having given it to the man laying next to you. 

“You know, you’re an asshole?” 

“Did I ask for your opinion?” He scoffed back and huffed. You felt him watch you climb into his bed, dragging the warm fur over your bare legs. Ivar stared at you, unaccustomed to your lack of clothing since you seemed to always wear hoards of clothes or battle armour. Yet now, he was left with curiosity as he saw the outline of your body from the light of his candles. You wore a thin white dress because your body grew hot easily and it was Summer. 

“Keep talking to me like that and I’ll leave.” You glared over at Ivar who seemed a world away. “Come over here.” You motioned towards your legs, where he could sit and you could comfortably braid his longer thick black hair. 

“I’m not fucking you.” Ivar stated blatantly, taking your motions the wrong way. But still, he crawled over and settled between your legs and pulled the blankets over his bottom half and your legs as well. His body was hard as laid down against your stomach and chest. You felt your heartbeat jolt at the feeling of his body so close, butterflies swarming inside your stomach and stretched towards your shaky fingers.

“I don’t want you to fuck me.” You lied between your teeth, the words hot with deceit. “Why didn’t you ask me this earlier?” Your fingers combed gently against the tuffs of his hair, the silk of soft and thick rubbing against your rough fingers. It soothed your heart. 

“I thought it would make your life more difficult.” He teased. You could see his cocky smirk through the thickness of his locks and you tugged it back harshly causing Ivar to hiss. 

“Sorry.” Now you were the one smiling with smugness. Your smaller fingers combed through, nails scraping against his scalp like a massage which you were doing but used the excuse of it ridding all of the non-existent knots. Ivar let out a long breath and relaxed more into your body, his weight pushing you against the surface of the wall. It was times like these that made you fall deeply in love with the insecure man. 

“You didn’t say that the last time.” After a few minutes of silence, that you enjoyed, Ivar decided to break it. You raised your eyebrows and his comment, confused on what he meant. 

“Excuse me?”

“You said, you didn’t want to fuck me but the last time you were in my room, I recall you begging.” This caught you off guard and made you freeze your actions. Something dropped inside your stomach. Eye trapped on the first to braid on the left side of his scalp, you were tempted to dig your elbow into his skull and make the blue eyed man take back his words. Ivar, of course noticed the way your body reacted. He felt you tense and felt the tips of your fingers leave his scalp - much to his dismay. “Don’t you remember?” Ivar didn’t need to turn to look at you to see the reaction he’d cause, the only reaction he knew he could cause. Instead, his hand found its way to your bare thighs and tenderly massaged your legs. 

“Yes.” You coughed, breaking out of your embarrassed trance and returned to braiding his hair. You completely ignored the feather touch of his calloused fingers against the bare of your bruised skin. 

“Is that a yes to me fucking you or a yes to me fucking you the first time?” Your heart beat sped up at the words, suddenly very sensitive to his body slumped against yours. You silently cursed the Gods and your heart, especially to the way your mind was reacting. Self-aware to the bare skin rubbing against your body, your chest and your stomach, only separated by an inch of fabric. 

“As I recall it, cripple, you were the one that wanted to have sex not me. Why? Because you couldn’t get a fucking hard on.” Ivar chuckled lightly at your remark, entertained by your sour mouth around him. You were the first woman he had ever encountered to be so complicated. You were loud and boisterous yet silent and observant around other people. You were brutally honest about your opinion but still secretive about your feelings. You fought like a man but emotional like a woman - the side of you that he alone, witnessed. You were by all means unsaintly yet as pure as a flower. "So please be quiet. I rather prefer you better than to when you open that beastly thing of yours called a mouth.”

“I know you pine for me at night, scarface. Perhaps even touch yourself to the thought of me.” You could feel the tingles travel towards the pit of your stomach, the cunt between your legs betraying your words and forced intentions. It was too damn difficult to resist the man sitting between your legs, body firm and smooth pressed against you like suffocation. If he were strangling the truth of your lust out and into the open. 

“Hmm.” You hummed quietly, deciding to play his game as well. “Maybe.” Your fingers now tugging at the last of his hair that had yet to be braided, you let a finger trace the side of his neck and down the inch of skin that connected his neck and shoulder - the area of where you sunk your teeth into as you came undone. Ivar’s body reacted with a shiver and the hand that was under the blanket was not applying more pressure to your thigh. Ivar enjoyed toying with you, this much you knew. He always found every opportunity to get you a mess. Whether it be an angry mess, an annoyed mess or a flustered mess. “Yet, maybe not.” You continued braiding the last of his hair, silk soft and tender. Not so long ago it was short and still as thick. 

“Will you be by my side when we attack King Aelle and his armies?” Ivar’s voice dropped, barely above a whisper but held such vulnerability. This side of Ivar that only you could see, breathe and feel. It was intoxicating and dangerous. Made you want him even more. Finishing the last of his intertwined fragments of ink black locks, you let out a sigh and rested the top of your chin on his head.

“Of course. I will always be by your side.” Although the words were simple, they spoke how serious you were. They spoke truths you couldn’t admit to him or even yourself. They spoke truths that you knew would break your heart. Ivar found your small hand and held it in his, not saying a word but the action spoke thousands. 

The sensation inside your body, warmed. The weight of his large and meatier hand is rough against your palms. Thumb rubbing small circles that did wonders to your body. It made your headlight and the familiar feeling of euphoria came back. A different type of euphoria. Not the one you gained from victory or tearing through the bodies of enemies or the many cups of ale. It was the type that was pure and real and honest. It made your heart weak but soar at the same time. 

“Stay with me.” 

~~~

His mouth latched onto the crook of your neck, lips chapped and dry but tongue wet and smooth. You let out a content sigh, your hands pulling at his long mane of hair. He sucked harshly on the soft skin, fingers already pulling your belt  off and then ripped your pants down. Revealing your bare thighs, skin bruised and scarred from old scars and new minor wounds. His actions were rushed, pushing you onto a nearby table of his home and placed himself between your legs. 

It wasn’t normal for you to fuck random men in a stranger’s home. Hell, he could be married with children. But it wasn’t like you were doing this for pleasure, no, it was to ease the pining at night. The unsatisfied tension from your cunt because of the lack of sex and physical contact with any man - Ivar, to be more specific. You didn’t realize how much your body had needed his touch, until last night when your body was hot and needy. So, first thing in the morning, you saw the closest man to you, you coaxed him into fucking you senseless. Which by the way, didn’t take much. Just a few words and a light press of your fingers.

“Oh, you’re so tight.” He growled into your ear, breath hot and heavy. You felt his prick slide into your pussy, which immediately clenched and tensed, a small moan leaving your lips. It wasn’t like he wasn’t a decent size, but it felt...bland. It was missing something. Something meaningful. You pushed those thoughts aside and tied to focus on the pleasure and pushed him onto the ground, only to ride him faster. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck you’re a good bitch.” In normal circumstances, you would have punched the man over for calling you that but you were so desperate to feel something that it didn’t faze you. You closed your eyes and thought of Ivar. His touch. His lips. His kiss. His voice…

~~~

“I’m not having sex with you.” You stated bluntly once again. Over the past week, Ivar has been pressuring you to have sex with him because he never had sex before and neither had you. Over the two years he’s known you, you have earned his trust and his comfort and the feelings are mutual. Both of you can speak openly about anything, it was a privilege but also a nuisance.

“Didn’t you say that you were here to serve me? Not completely fucking ignore my demands.” You rolled your eyes at Ivar’s spoiled behaviour, annoyed because he could be an asshole but also a pestering asshole in the middle of your chores. You weren’t a slave nor were you rich or a lady that Queen Aslaug treated well. She didn’t hate you nor did she favor you. However, you were incredibly grateful for her hospitality of lending you a bed, food and the acquaintance of knowing her sons. 

“Look, as you can tell I’m really busy right now.” You huffed and scrubbed the clothes to your clothes in the bucket of water harshly, ridding of the blood stains. “So do yourself a favor, and let your royal ass out.” You ignored the rest of his blabbering and then felt his presence leave. You let out a heavy sigh, body finally coming to an ease. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to have sex with Ivar but it was because you were actually, nervous. Really nervous. There were two major problems to that. One, you were nervous because you didn’t know how to fuck nor did you know if you actually could. And two, you have never been nervous before. The sensation was new and pestering. 

You talked to Ubbe about it since he was the mature and responsible one. You asked him about sex and he was surprised, since you rarely asked anything. Literally. You kept to yourself and handled things on your own. But this issue didn’t seem to go away. So, you turned to Ubbe who out of all the brother’s wouldn’t judge or make any insults towards you, he was a good person. But even then, the knowledge didn’t still your nerves or excitement on that matter. You wanted to have sex with Ivar but still didn’t know how.

A few days later, you were sitting by yourself, observing the crowd of drunken people and reckless laughter. Your eyes find Ubbe who was flirting with one of the slave girls, Margrethe, a girl that got on your nerves and did not trust. Then towards Hvitserk, drinking beside Sigurd but his orbs were also glued to the slave girl and so was Sigurd, though he hid it better with his singing and playing the ute. Oh boy, you thought. But still, Ivar was nowhere to be seen, you found it odd since he enjoyed drinking and humiliating you or his brother, Sigurd. You stood up and approached Ubbe to inquire where he was.

“Ubbe, where is Ivar?” The blonde man pulled himself off of the slave girl who was giggling and clearly enjoying the attention of the famous prince. You had to admit she was beautiful but the instinct in your stomach proved otherwise. 

“You always worry about my little brother my dear Y/N. Drink and let loose.” Ubbe replied, obviously drunk and too happy. It was useless to think that you could get a reply from him, so instead you approached Sigurd.

“I heard that Ivar isn’t completely a man.” Sigurd muttered with a slur to Hvitserk, who gave him a confused look. “I mean, his prick can’t stand or pleasure a woman. You remember when we took him to the lake house to fuck Margrethe, she told me that his cock didn’t work and that he threatened Margrethe.” That bitch, you initially thought. You knew how insecure and sensitive Ivar was. Especially with his brothers. Always needing to prove himself to them, making up for his legs or lack thereof. You knew Sigurd was drunk and wouldn’t carelessly let loose on his words but boy did you wanna start a fight right now. Your blood boiled, becoming protective over the cripple man and also having a good enough reason to punch the blonde girl. 

Without hesitation, you marched over to the loving couple who were making out so carelessly and tore Ubbe off of her. Margrethe looked at you with horror as you lifted her to her feet and rammed your forehead into her nose, earning a crack and a shriek. Ubbe immediately grabbed you and stared you away from the slave girl who was crying but you could care less and spat at her one last time before you were thrown against the wall by the older man.

“What is wrong with you?” Ubbe yelled, glaring down at you with fire. You only wiped her blood from your face and huffed, pushing his arms away and stomped out of the hall. Ignoring the hollers of other Vikings and the hate-stares of Hvitserk and Sigurd. You would pay for this later since all three men were smitten and infatuated with that bitch of a woman. All thinking with their cocks and not their sensibility.

Soon enough, you found yourself slipping into Ivar’s room with silent and small steps. The noiseless night filled the hall of the Ragnarson’s large home, located in the great hall. You were dressed in an over-sized long sleeve shirt, falling passed your knees and freshly clean. You didn’t know why, but you were worried about Ivar. Because you rejected him countless times, even though he came to you and wanted you again and again. All because you were afraid. For the first time in your life, you were afraid. Scared that he’d reject you when you did just that towards him. Though these feelings were newborn, they were strong and passionate. 

“What are you doing?” A sleepy and cautious Ivar suddenly inquired, halting you in your tracks of trying to crawl into his bed. Yet you continued, letting the warmth of the blankets engulf you until your body was awkwardly close to Ivar’s.

“I want to have sex with you.” Not knowing how else to put it, you stated only the truth. You felt his head shift to glance over to you.

“Why?” 

“What else reason would there for me to fuck you Ivar? Because I’m horny and I want you.” You met his eyes, barely visible but you could see his crystal blue irises staring at you questionably. But soon his expression softened and he looked away.

“I can’t.” There was a tone of disappointment and pain behind his words and you knew exactly why. Because of that blonde bitch with a big fucking mouth. You growled inside your head, promising yourself that you’d deal with the girl later on if Ubbe or Hvitser or Sigurd didn’t interfere. How was a man like himself supposed to reach greatness if he had the confidence of a child? You knew, ever since you were a child, that the man called Ivar the Boneless would someday be a famous and feared viking. And you believed it with all your heart. 

“You’re a stupid cripple.” You mumbled and then pressed your lips against his. They were soft and warm. Ivar seemed shocked at first, not knowing how to reply or to react. So, you prompted for a response by crawling over his body so you were straddling the man. You could feel the blood in your body rush to your cheeks, feeling heat and warmth spread at the feeling for him. A spark lit in the pit of your stomach. “A stupid cripple.” You spoke once again, admiring the way his eyes, crystal blue like the rare flashes of lightning that only occurred for a split second. If you were to blink, you’d miss its beauty and it's terror. This time, Ivar reciprocated the kiss with slow movements and timid hands that bunched at your hips, unknowing to do what. 

“You do not understand.” He muttered between your desperate kisses and caught your roaming fingers that itch to feel his manhood. The only part of him that was left unknown besides his legs. The part of him that made you eager with a different excitement. “I can’t. My-” Before he could finish the sentence, you slapped his cheek raw and hard. The sound bouncing off of the walls and down the still hall. 

“You’re gonna let a slave bitch really tell you how your body works?” You knew Ivar, knew him well enough to cause a reaction. This man was driven by anger and revenge. He was truly passionate when he was filled with rage and turmoil, where the beast lurks and the mind disappears. The reaction didn’t work though, not yet. He only seethed through the grit of his teeth and gave a shaky sigh, controlling his anger. It was sweet really, but you didn’t want sweet, you wanted him to fuck you. Fuck you until that confidence came back. “You’re a bitch Ivar.” You mumbled through light kisses, dragging down his neck and sinking your teeth into his skin hard enough to earn a loud hiss. “What happened to Ivar the Boneless, the one who proved everyone wrong?” You hummed teasingly, tongue dragging down his chest and giving one of his nipples a flick and down, down, down, to the bottom of his belly button. “I guess he lost his balls just as well as he lost his-” You yelped out in pain as Ivar grabbed a fist full of your hair and yanked you up. 

“You want me to fuck you, hmm? Want me to fuck that fucking cunt? Is that what you really want?” You could see the fury behind his eyes, felt it in the tenseness of his body and could sense it through the bulge of his pants that you felt proud of. 

“Can you?” You teased, one hand holding his wrist and the other clenching onto the bed sheet. You suppressed the need to escape but didn’t bite your tongue back, not now. Not when he was clearly turned on. 

“Careful woman, your mouth is too big for your own good.” 

Ivar slumped over your body, both of you completely exhausted from prior activities. It was painful but enjoyable. Neither you or Ivar made a move, too surprised at what had happened but instead laid in silence and let what had happened sink in. You absorbed it. His rough fingers touching places where no man has ever ventured or rather tried, but still maintained his limbs and life. His lips ghosting over yours then meeting in a passionate dance like a bonfire or crashing waves or swords on a battlefield. Biting, sucking, clashing, needing, tasting each other like a man deprived. He was gentle and soft, maintaining his control as he felt your discomfort. The way Ivar coaxed tender things in your ear as you held onto him like he’d suddenly leave. The way you felt all of his body. His chest, his arms, his nose, his lips, his hips, even his legs. The way he relentlessly fucked you the second time, pounding into your cunt with so much force you couldn’t help the cries that shrieked in the household where others could hear. The way you both came undone with timid and slow thrusts, staring into each other’s eyes with soft whimpers and hands held. It was too much. 

“Can I stay?” You inquired with slight nervousness. Apprehensive at the idea he might decide he doesn’t want you anymore, just wanting a fuck buddy or just a one time thing. He didn’t say anything at all, but his hand reaching out for yours was enough confirmation.

#vikings ivar #x reader #cute #ubbe #ivar fluff #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar #vikings #lagertha #vikings imagine

[curly-bangtan]

A Drop of Heaven I: Sir(e)  (M)

[Series Masterlist]

Pairing: ot7 x reader // this chapter: Namjoon x reader, some Jimin x reader

Series summary: Seven vampires have secretly been roaming the darks of your world for millennia. Each brother selects a Feed who becomes supernaturally bound to him, whose blood will be fed on until their inevitable mortal death. They have spent their eternity hunting for the exorbitant rarity that is angel blood - the most heavenly of food for vampires that fuel them with desire, lust and satiety. So what happens when they all find you, the first angel-blooded being they’ve encountered in two centuries?

Genre: vampire au, poly au, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (e2l)

Warnings in this chapter: non-consensual blood drinking, mentions of death and abuse, obv blood and gore, very light smut, dry humping, ass grinding, dom!Namjoon is an ass man wbk, almost everyone being a prick, oc and Namjoon hating each other but then get confused

Word count: 9.6k

!Disclaimer!: As I’ve said before, I am not glorifying any type of objectification or abuse, and this has nothing to do with gender at all. This is meant to depict a fictional dynamic between vampire and Feed which obviously does not apply to a non-supernatural context in which case this would be considered abuse and toxic. I really hope this doesn’t offend/trigger anyone!! If you get confused, feel free to ask questions.

[prelude, i, ii, iii, iv, v, vi, vii, epilogue]

❦

Death feels…

Alive.

The hum of classical music and hushed low voices permeate your ears as your senses gradually seep back to you. Faint darkness cloaks your vision. Your chest rises and falls in a soft slow rhythm. You’re breathing. Your heart is beating. You feel alleviated from the pain you’re so accustomed to. You feel revitalised.

You feel alive.

So this is the so-called Afterlife philosophers spend decades pondering and debating. How peculiar.

You try to lift your finger and find it moving at your will, the action feeling oddly smooth and effortless. Fabric brushes your skin, and in fact, a silk material envelops your body. Are you on a bed?

When your eyelids begin to flutter in attempt to open, the voices around you silence eerily in unison. You see a red-gold light at first, illuminating the dark room you find yourself in, the ceiling of which void-black. In your periphery, dim candles are flickering on your two sides, the warm glow of which spilling onto the lavish satin bed you lay atop, its size worthy for kings to sleep in.

Then something violently strong snaps within you, a string, a cord, of sorts. The sensation is not physical, it’s beyond that; it feels as though something has tied itself around your soul and is tugging at you towards it. This intensity is overwhelming, eating at your mind and core, urging you to follow this nexus that tightens its hold around you.

You sit up, gasping.

And face seven men.

Each the epitome of beauty in their own right. Each an ethereal glaze washing over them. Each staring at you with the most curious glint in their eyes.

No, not curious. Hungry.

“I…” Your brain is scattered from its sense. Where are you? Who are they? Are you dead or alive or both? “What…?” Coherent thoughts fail to form in your head and at your lips, the question dangles in the air like a weak sigh.

Processing as much as you can, you take a moment to examine the seven standing around the bed in front of you.

The one directly in front of you regards you with crossed arms, dressed in a suit of all black, mousy grey-brown hair swept neatly. When you meet his eyes, a chill shoots down your back for his irises have the faintest crimson glow to them. But what is more terrifying is not the strange hue of his eyes, but the way they are pinned at you as if he could stare into your soul and read your every single secret. There is an air of power and superiority that exudes from his tall stance. You’re beginning to think that this definitely isn’t heaven and he definitely isn’t an angel.

On his left is a pink-haired man, delicate to look at, soft features painting his handsome face. His eyes are kind but unreadable, juxtaposing the harshness of the one beside him. His shoulders are board, though he possesses no intimidation towards you. Something about him is so aesthetically soothing, magical to look at.

On the other side of the stranger in the middle slouches a smaller man, a bored expression worn on his face with his cheek bitten inside his mouth. His spiky head of hair so dark you can almost hear it whisper lullabies of the devil. When he looks at you, you feel him emanate a dangerous fury; it’s an ancient deep-rooted type of evil. Now, a flood of fear finally dawns on you.

Next to him, a dimpled grin greets you. Immediately you sense a rush of security at his warm expression, though you can’t help but think it’s a deceiving facade to lull you into his snare. There is a darkness lurking behind his crescent eyes that you don’t completely trust. He ruffles his hand through his wine red tufts, smile not once faltering in the most uncanny manner.

Standing opposite the bed from him is a devilishly handsome blonde boy, though you’re not sure if ‘boy’ is quite the right word when his lips quirk up at you mysteriously. He’s dressed luxuriously, like he’s some foreign prince, standing tall and proud yet undecipherable. An unknown force draws you to him, his beauty beckoning you like a lasso. When he brushes his thumb under his lip, you shudder.

Another boy approaches you, this one so stunning you jump back at his advance. “How are you feeling? Better?” As he perches on the side of the bed a hand’s reach away from you, you pause to take in this face wholly. Waves of silver sprouting from his head, mesmerisingly angular eyes staring intently into yours, a small button nose and plump red lips. It’s a frightening type of beauty.

Gulping as you find yourself out of air from the overwhelmingly powerful presence in the room, you force yourself to nod. You only realise now that you are changed into a clean cream cotton dress.

In the dark far corner, the last man leans against the wall, observing with a guarded, austere demeanour. You can’t see him well in the shadow, but you see the gloss of his long black curls flowing around his clenched jaw. He does not say anything, does not appear to have the intention of joining the others gathered around you. Just silently watching.

These seven men… No, not men.

Phantasmal unearthly creatures.

Because there is no way that these towering bodies and other-worldly faces are mere mortals.

“Who are you?” Your voice is a croaky whisper courtesy to your chokingly dry throat.

“The answer to that is worth an eternity, love.” The boy sat beside you smirks, brushing his silver locks to one side. “I’m afraid you don’t want to find out.”

Your mind is whizzing, trying to piece together your surroundings, these strangers leering at you almost lasciviously as if you’re some zoo animal. Trying to grasp at your last memories, you remember the scenes in flashes. His fist, her cries, blooming agony, then darkness.

A blood-curdling realisation hits you.

You’re not dead.

You can’t be dead. You’re breathing, blinking, moving. You’re very much alive. And tragically so.

“Where is she?” You make the move to get off this bed but is blocked by the gorgeous blonde. A wolf wearing sheepskin, you wager.

Silence dangles in the air like a man hanging from a noose, the familiar gnaw of fear clenching your chest so tightly you don’t think you’re breathing. Then, “She’s dead.”

Those words are flung at you like a piece of rag but hit you like an arrow through the heart. Spoken by none other than the frowning man in the middle, arms crossed and eyeing you with callous indifference as if he hadn’t just announced the death of your younger sister.

You expect tears to erupt from your eyes but they don’t, you want to scream your devastation and anger at the world but you don’t. Everything goes still, calm, inert. Almost as if you can’t feel anything. The pain in your heart spreads like cracking glass torturously slowly, infecting your every fibre with a bleak shadow.

The mattress dips as Silver clambers closer to you and strokes your cheek gently. His touch ice cold, yet nothing compared to the numbness of your mind, empty, devoid of all feeling.

“I’m sorry, don’t be sad.”

Don’t be sad.

You let out a breath that would’ve been a laugh if you currently had the capacity for emotion.

“Enough of this shit, just cut to the chase and tell her everything she needs to know so we can get on with it, Namjoon.” Impatient and hostile, the one with black hair and a permanent scowl scoffs.

Namjoon, standing out amongst the seven not in looks but in confidence and stature, is their leader, you suppose. When he speaks again, you’re not surprised that he is. His tone is authoritative, articulate, a severe presence that demands attention. Almost enough to make you forget about the grief you’re bottling up for one second.

“What is your name, girl?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N, listen to me very closely as I won’t repeat myself. We seven brothers hereby are siring you as our Feed, all seven of us. You will now be bound to us until death shows you mercy and lifts your curse that tethers you to us eternally. Forget your past life because you shall reside here in our manor for the rest of your mortal life for us to drink your blood.

“Under normal circumstances, each of us possesses one Feed each, but in your case, we shall distribute you equally amongst ourselves. There are seven days in a week which falls perfectly align with our arrangement. On Monday, you shall be my Feed, Tuesday, Seokjin, Wednesday, Yoongi, Thursday, Hoseok, Friday, Jimin, Saturday, Taehyung and finally Sunday, Jungkook. You shall be completely obedient to your sire of the day and your sire only, and in return we shall feed on you only on the day of which you belong to us. Due to the vigorous frequency at which you are being fed on, we have agreed to feed as lightly as possible to sustain you. If need be, you will be healed with our blood.

“You shall refer to me as Sir and only Sir; the others will decide the dynamic they wish to share with you. Do not for a second forget that you are our subjugate, our inferior and our prey. The magic that yields you to us is powerful, thus you have no choice in this matter. Many before you have tried to defy during their early days as a Feed only to quickly fail and fall to submission as they should. Heed this as your only warning.

“Do you or do you not understand, Y/N?” When he finishes, he juts his chin high at you and sucks in the meat of his cheeks between his jaws.

The fire poker that is his glare sears into you, sizzling its mark into your pit of dread. None of what he just said makes an ounce of sense to you, and it’s definitely not because of your dazed state from your newly-regained consciousness.

Just who does this man think he is? And what in ten Hells is he going on about?

“No. I don’t fucking understand.”

Shock registers in all their eyes when you spit your bitter dispute at Namjoon. You swear there’s a glint of twisted excitement sparking from the redhead.

“I’m afraid you will have to repeat yourself. Sir.” You continue when none of them utters a syllable. “First, you tell me my sister is dead. I believe you. Then you’re spouting some speech about how I’m ‘sired’ to you all and you’re going to drink my blood every day of the week because I belong to you? Is this some sort of cult or is this Hell?” Looking around at them, they all seem taken aback by your outburst, stunned.

“Oh my… This one is going to be fun.” The blonde boy mirths at you, tongue gliding over his row of pearly teeth. It is now that you notice the sharp point of his fangs in place of his canines. You freeze.

“Isn’t she? I’m going to go mad waiting until Thursday. Can I have a bite right now? Just a drop so I know her taste?” He is bouncing on his toes, thrilled by the anticipation.

“Hoseok, hush.” Namjoon silences the boy’s fervour before turning to you. “Y/N, if you insist on defiance, I promise you endless suffering. Let me clear your confusion. We are vampires that rely on blood as our food. You are our chosen victim, our Feed. The supernatural sire bond will eventually click into place between you and each one of us, forcing a mutual loyalty between Vampire and Feed. This will be clearer as the days go on. I suggest you-”

“Right, vampires.” You interrupt before he can continue his nonsense. How did you end up in some vampire-worshipping cult? “If you guys are vampires, then I’m a freaking angel. You are all insane. I’m leaving, goodbye.”

Frantically crawling off the bed, you head in the direction of the door. If your sister is really dead, then what happened to your uncle? You hope he’s dead too. Either way, you have no home to return to, but still you need to escape these men for your own sake. You can’t escape one lunatic only to end up in the lair of seven more.

But before you could even step your bare foot off the bed onto the wooden floor, frozen fingers snake around your wrist like a venomous serpent and lock you in its clasp.

“You are an angel, kind of.” Hoseok chuckles and tugs you back onto the bed, you’re unduly aware of how close he is hovering over you.

“You’re also dumb as fuck if you think you can leave, did you not hear everything he just said?” The sourpuss beside him shoves at your shoulder not at all lightly until you sink onto the mattress on your back. “You couldn’t leave us even if you tried.”

“No need to be so rough on her, Yoongi, she’s confused.” Brows pinched in disapproval, the pink-haired man chastises softly, and to your surprise, this Yoongi just scowls but dips his head.

Pink seems to be kind, the only one here that appeals to your plight apparently, so you scramble on your knees over to his side for your second attempt to escape. But his gentle hand reaches out to stop you, hand raised inches away from your chest, preventing you from moving forward and slipping past him. There’s a guilt in his eyes that you cannot comprehend. Why can’t he let you leave if he is sympathetic towards you?

“She still doesn’t get it, hyung.” The beautiful blonde boy on your other side shakes his head with a pernicious smile. “We need to show her.” His appearance is a trap, you know that with absolute certainty as you look into the renaissance painting that is his face. Yet you cannot help the attraction that sings you towards him as he draws his finger under your chin, guiding you closer into him.

He looks over to Namjoon as if for approval, who only stares at the scene of him luring you into his grasp with an unreadable expression. At the lack of disagreement from others, his finger now traces down to your neck, wandering over your heavy pulse. You gulp.

“Taehyung…” Someone warns, yet the delirious state you’re in at the hands of this boy’s enchantment does not allow you to recognise who.

His eyes are the palest of blues, a cloudless summer day with a soft seaside breeze. Your gaze follows his tongue wetting his lips, then trailing his sharp teeth. How do his fangs look so real? They oddly suit him, painting a wild beastly image of him that is concealed by his soft innocent features until he opens his mouth to flash his whites. You’ve never seen someone as good looking as him. As all of them.

Seductively, Taehyung leans into your neck and buries his nose in your scent. When he sucks in sharply, you sense his craving, his arousal. You’re frozen in his clutch as his hand circles behind you so delicately, unsure of what to do with yourself, unsure of what he’ll do with you. Lips tenderly caressing your jugular, you shut your eyes, intoxicated by his touch.

“Left neck is mine.” He growls, the aggressiveness of which surprises you so much so that the words he speaks don’t manifest its meaning to you at first.

Then a scorching hot pain explodes in your neck, so violent that you shriek out and try to twist away. But something is latched onto you like a hook, two hooks in fact. When your open your eyes, you realise that it’s his teeth that are sunken inch deep into your neck, penetrating a dizzying agony into your whole body. After a still second, you begin to feel a pressure pulling out your blood like a vacuum. A tear trickles out the corner of your eye at the burning sensation.

What the fuck?

He is… drinking your blood.

You try to push him off but a strange force like phantom hands bind your muscles and prevent you from acting on your will.

The magic that yields you to us is powerful, you have no choice in this matter.

Holy shit, Namjoon was completely serious. These people aren’t a brainwashed cult, they’re actually vampires.

Years of abuse, all the wounds you’ve endured, are nothing compared to the agony embedded deep in your neck right now. Absolutely nothing. Streams of scarlet flow down your garment like a spillage of wine, dark and thick and an indulgence to the tongue. You’re helplessly grappling on Taehyung’s shirt, tugging him towards you rather than shoving him away. This supernatural spell, or whatever the fuck it is, is overriding and going against your every intention to escape.

Vision hazy, you vaguely make out the other faces watching you struggle under Taehyung’s fangs. And when you think this nightmare could not get more harrowing, you notice a change in their eyes. By that, you do not mean a shift in expression, a frown or a squint. It is an actual physical transformation: the black of their pupils incrementally diffusing into their irises like a drop of watercolour, then the darkness spills over to the whites of their eyes until they are wholly onyx clouds.

“Taehyung.” Namjoon demands, and a sigh of relief escapes you as the sucking in your vein ceases. But rather than telling him to stop, he simply orders, “Share.”

Share? Share your blood?

Then the rest of the five prowl to gather around you, and despite your vertigo, you will never forget how monstrous they look. Eyes black as void, ivory fangs elongating like unsheathing claws, nostrils flaring at the scent of your blood, their food. Chest heaving as if struggling to hold back from ripping you into strips of meat.

“Bon appetit.” Is that Hoseok who’s leaping at your collarbone?

When his teeth sink in, you no longer have it in you to cry out. And then another on your right neck. Your head feels as if it’ll roll off your neck, only held onto the rest of your body by a ligament and Taehyung’s palm. A strong hand yanks your arm up and places your wrist in his mouth. This one hurts even more than your neck as you feel his fangs scrape carelessly against your bone. A soundless sob leaves your trembling lips. Then someone is gently pushing your legs apart, sniffing up the inside of your thigh. You try to kick him yet instead your leg wraps around his back and draw him closer. His purring resonates into your core as he licks his ravishing mark before piercing your skin once more. Blood seeps out the corner of his mouth and run down your calf like the tears you release in vain.

“Oh Hell, I haven’t tasted angel blood in centuries. I’ve forgotten how irreplaceably magnificent this is.” Someone throws their head back for a breath, sighing their satisfaction at your opulence.

No matter how much you thrash against the force that holds you in their submission, nothing budges. Like skyscraping obsidian walls surrounding your every side. Shadow scions twisting around your limbs into a lock.

Y/N, if you insist on defiance, I promise you endless suffering.

His voice echoes in the rubble of your brain like a bell, clanging its nauseating truth into you. Your consciousness is sand falling between your fingers, you try to hold on but the grains are ungraspable.

Then finally, the one with pink hair comes near you. A pitiful expression worn that makes you wonder how absolute the evil that lurks in them actually is, or whether it’s tainted with humanity.

He stops, brushes your tear away. “Sorry.” Trickery of your ears would not be surprising, considering the irony of his apology as he hesitantly lifts your other wrist to his fangs.

You last one second after his bite before fainting, body going slump but held upright by the six vampires feeding on you. Your last thought being: how terrifying the devils of Hell live in such beautiful deceiving skins.

And also that you hope you fucking die this time.

In the dim corner of the room, the last vampire watches, taciturn, as his brothers devour every last drop of crimson liquid that misses their tongues. Eyes narrowing at their wolfish hunger and your fainted state. Then slips away without as much as a word.

.

You wake up painless. Skin unmarred and unbroken. In the same room, on the same bed. Yet your red stained night dress tells you that it wasn’t a nightmare. It was all real.

Everything is silent though the clockwork in your head ticks loud. You try to process how you’ve been captured by a brotherhood of vampires, blood-sucking vampires, who have chosen you to be their personal blood bag. Their ‘Feed’. And you’re now magically bound to them, a force locking you in place and unable to resist every time you try.

What the actual fuck?

How has your life thrown you from torture to torture?

None of this seems possible. Vampires are a mythical creature, a fable. You have to be going insane. Or perhaps you actually are dead and this is your personal Hell designed to torment you for the rest of your afterlife. Not that you know what you did to deserve all this.

But it had felt so real.

You touch the spot on your neck where you were bitten, goosebumps raising when you recall Taehyung’s fangs first puncturing through you as if you were no more than a peach. That pain, that shock, bathes in its immortality in your memory.

Namjoon, their leader. His dictation of the rules that they are enforcing on you, his vexingly arrogant tone, the way his eyes squint down at you. What is wrong with him?

Then there is your sister. Her death. The initial heartbreak launched into you like a missile, but then somehow fizzled away into a bittersweetness that sours your throat. You won’t cry. Death was a mercy for her, it’s surely better than your predicament right now. She was innocent, she was sinless, she was pure. She deserves death when living was a worse fate.

There’s no point grieving her loss, right?

There’s no point, you convince yourself. And so you lock her sugar sweet scent and toothy smile away in your heart-shaped box and toss the key into the ocean of your emotions.

You wonder how your uncle fares. The cause of your misery and suffering all these years. The one who showed you that you’re capable of the ugly emotion that is hate. You don’t want to think about him, your fists already clenching in anger at the reminder of his alcohol-ridden breath. You hope he’s somewhere captured in this place too, experiencing worse than what he put you and her through.

If you ever see him, you would kill him yourself. Not a single doubt about that.

All this misfortune in you and your sister’s lives stemmed from one accident that resulted in the death of your parents. Your life before, a distant reverie. You had been happy once, scarless and untraumatized. Now you’re damaged.

About to be even more damaged.

Your coping mechanism has always fluctuated between two polarities. Either you are a shell of a living being, detached and numb to all the blows, merely rotting to your expiration, or some days you are so full of anger at the unfairness of this universe, so much resentment at yourself, your uncle, and even your parents for leaving you behind.

Right now, you’re the former. Hit by a wave of anaesthesia, and you’re grateful for it because you know the alternative is the manic loss of your sanity.

Sitting up, you regard this room. It is dark and sleek in nature, use of deep metal and glass for surfaces rather than the wood you’re used to at home. No, not home. That wasn’t your home. The palette is monochrome, primarily blacks and greys, devoid of any colour, reflecting the bleakness of your mental state. The room is lit by candles beside the bed, though a multi-bulbed light hangs from the middle of the ceiling, switched off. Curtains drawn shut, you have no idea what time of day it currently is, nor the passage of time. Furniture is lacking, only a marble chest of drawers, a cushion-barren loveseat, a pot of fern which you presume is fake because what plant can grow in such dull setting, and a double shelf of books.

There are three doors, one agape that opens up to what looks like an ensuite bathroom, the other two in adjacent corners, ominously calling for you to explore. Whatever lurks behind them, you can sense it won’t be the Garden of Eden. Either way, you need to find a way out of this place.

You’re about to leave the bed and scuttle to listen at the walls when you hear two soft knocks before the closer of the two doors opens. To reveal an angelic face that you now know is nothing more than a lie, his silver hair glinting from the candle flames.

“Can I come in?” His voice is smooth, saccharine, higher pitched than you expected. Though this is your second encounter with him, you don’t remember your first too well due to the overwhelm.

Clearing your throat, you reply, “yes.” Why has he even asked for permission when he didn’t need it? It’s not like you have a choice in the matter, or any matter in here apparently.

The way he strolls in exudes a swaggering confidence, a charm that you would buy into if you hadn’t witness him transform into a black-eyed demon and feel his fangs enter your flesh. When he sits on the bed, crinkling the satin covers, you fight the urge to recoil away from his proximity. He is dressed in a royal blue velvet suit that flaunts his collarbones, and tied around his neck is a red choker, the colour of which flashes a reminder of your own choker of your own blood sewn around your neck.

“Forgive me for not introducing myself before, I’m Jimin.” At his outreached hand, you blink. So these creatures are capable of etiquette and decency.

Hesitantly, like a cat sniffing a stranger’s inquiring finger, you place your hand atop his. Almost jumping at its iciness. When he lifts it up to plant a dry delicate kiss, you yelp and withdraw harshly, not caring that your knuckles hit his nose.

“You’re a shy one.” Jimin chuckles at your reaction to hide his hurt.

“No, not shy. Just not easy and willing like you want me to be.” The venom is harbouring in your chest now, melting away your numbness into an acidic puddle.

“You have a bite to you.” He muses, more to himself than you.

“So do you.” All your hatred, for your uncle, for your life, for these vampires, you’re channeling towards him at this moment. You know it might not be completely justified, he’s not the worst one out of them. But do you need a reason not to be sour towards your captor?

His face softens, though it was soft to begin with. He doesn’t look at you like his prey, and it confuses you because that’s what you are to him. “I… am sorry. I hope you understand that I didn’t choose to be like this.”

It dawns on you right now, as you for the first time consider his point of view. He didn’t choose to be like this. He really didn’t… You have no choice but to be bound to them. But they also have no choice but to need to feed on you. A lion does not choose to be cruel to the zebra, it simply has to in order to survive.

A tiny fragment of your firepit of anger smokes into nothing.

When you don’t say anything, a hint of worry appears in his eyes. “How are you feeling though?”

Alright, you almost say. Because that’s everyone’s default answer to this question even when they don’t mean in, even when they’re on the brink of a mental breakdown bubbling beneath their skin.

“Weird. Confused.”

“That’s usual for every Feed at first. But trust me, you’ll get used to it.” His hand is smoothing the soft sheets and you can’t help the feeling that they’re longing to touch you.

“Every Feed… How many have there been before me?” The thought is chilling, to think that this is some cycle of ritual.

“Y/N, you have to understand, we are ancient beings, we have been around for millennia…” Jimin glances at you fleetingly, as if worried about your reaction.

Millennia…

You don’t know what you expected, but certainly not this. That truth is truly horrifying. Vampires have plagued this very earth you inhabit for not decades, not centuries, but millennia.

“I don’t want to confuse you with more information, I think this much is enough so I’ll leave our story for another time perhaps.” His consideration is jarring. How can he act this caring right now as if he hadn’t just fed off your blood? And may do so any second now?

“Okay.”

A silence follows your reply that you intended to be the end of the conversation. There isn’t much one can respond to okay.

You’re keenly aware of how his eyes explore you, searching your face as if it were a map to the treasure he has exhausted himself with hunting for. His desire, a thing that scares you, radiates despite him not doing much. Doubt is planted in your head, you’re unsure of how to feel as you toy with the lining of the bedding. Namjoon was so blunt, so disrespectful with his superiority complex, insisting you to submit to him. But Jimin acts as though he wishes to befriend you.

Or maybe it’s to instill a false sense of security in you, so easier to lure you into his den.

“We’ve never done this before.” Jimin speaks again. “Sharing a Feed. All of us at least. Taehyung and I have shared before, but this… I don’t know how it will work.” He scratches his temple.

“Namjoon said only one of you would feed on me a day but then…” The feeling of six pairs of fangs biting into you gives you goosebumps. You hate the weak whisper that is your voice. You sound pathetic. But when you see his guilt and pity-stricken eyes, you feel an odd satisfaction.

“Sorry… I think we all just got too excited. We haven’t tasted angel blood in almost two centuries.” When he notices your alarm, he quickly explains, “Right, you don’t know you have angel blood. Humans that possess the sacred touch of those celestials are extraordinarily rare, every creature of the night wishes to vanquish them for the fortune they bring. To us vampires, your blood is like… like ambrosia - food of the gods. The taste so euphoric that it drives us to the edge of madness with desire and greed with just one drop.”

Angel blood.

A girl as mundane and peasant as you has fucking angel blood coursing through her system.

You want to laugh. What good does this stupid ‘sacred touch of the celestials’ if it not once protected you from the evil and adversities in your life? ‘Brings good fortune?’ Where the fuck has your good fortune been hiding then?

“I think I’m the one being driven to the brink of madness here,” is what you say instead of lashing out at him. “There’s no way. Why didn’t you get my uncle then? If I have angel blood then so should he.”

Your uncle with angel blood? The biggest joke this universe has played on you yet.

“No, it doesn’t work like that. The angels choose the selected few, born with a holy purity that makes them weep.” There’s a mockery in his tone when he describes those beings, as if they’re his archnemesis. “It requires the Heaven’s approval to imbue angel blood into an earthly being.”

You force a swallow. If the angels really chose you to carry their essence, where had they been when you needed them the most? What use is the angels’ good faith when they’re not there to guard you? You have so many questions, but you don’t know whether to trust his answers.

“Where are the other people with angel blood?” Why does it have to be you, you mean. Why always you?

“We’ve sought your kind our whole existence. You have to understand that your blood is like a drug to us, it’s a compulsion drawing us to find you. In our lifetime, we have sired a lot of the angel-blooded, probably hunted you so much that the angels are angry and decided to gradually relinquish this rite. We thought you were extinct, actually. Until we picked up on your scent and found you.”

Jimin finally gives into his inhibitions and holds your hand in his. This time you don’t flinch away, yet you’re unsure why. When his thumb caresses your knuckles, something in you jolts. His touch is so gentle, so unlike what you’re used to, and so unlike how he dug into your veins. You kind of want to cry. Because it’s been so long since anyone has shown this tenderness towards you.

Clearing your throat, you say, “And now I’m yours forever.” Until you suck me dry.

He senses the bitterness in your tone, your reluctance to belong to them. He seems hurt. It sends you down a whirlpool of confusion because he shouldn’t care.

“Y/N, I just want you to know that…” At the sincerity of Jimin’s voice, you lock eyes with him. “I can’t speak for my brothers, but me personally, I will never intentionally cause you unnecessary harm. My Feeds… mean a lot to me, I view you as more than food. I value and respect you, and though you may not for a long time, I wish for you to value and respect me too, one day.”

Resentment is a tiring emotion, it is a poison to your soul more than anyone else’s. You don’t want to hate him, or any of them. His words move you in a way that makes you almost believe that he isn’t a monster. Maybe he isn’t. It’s not their fault they were born like this.

And so you take your first step towards acceptance. Perhaps this is your future now. You hate everything about it, the pain, the submission, the restraint. But what other life have you got? There is nothing for you to go back to.

All of a sudden, Jimin twists his head to the side and freezes. You study his stunning profile, how he seems to be listening intently at what sounds like silence to your ears. Then the third door to the room swings open. Namjoon’s entrance is one like a villain’s in a horror film, with church organs playing in the background and a sinister flash of lighting. He looks taken aback at the sight of Jimin but recovers quickly as he frowns in disapproval.

You take the chance while his attention isn’t on you to assess him entirely. He’s dressed in the same all-black suit, albeit shed the blazer, and you wonder why they are all dressed like they’re ready for a banquet in their own home. Or maybe this isn’t their home and you’ve just made an assumption. His hair is less neat than before, spiking up on the sides as if he has been running his hands through it in exasperation. Stern expression seeming to be permanently worn on his face, he enters the room without asking. The discrepancy of him and Jimin does not surprise you.

“What are you doing here?” Namjoon demands. So it appears that his rigid tone is used not only on you, but also his brother. It’s insufferable. You almost take a step back to square one, forgetting Jimin’s offering of peace.

When his eyes narrow at your hand in Jimin’s, the smaller male quickly release you. “Hyung, I was just checking up on her. No need to get so possessive already.” Jimin is pouting almost exaggeratedly, his previous sincerity towards you quickly dissipating into a rather comical persona. You wonder which one is a facade, which one is really him.

“Possessive?” Namjoon scoffs and stops in front of him, his height towering over the both of you. “You’re the one to talk when you have to worst temper out of all of us. If roles were reversed, and I was visiting our Feed on your day, I think you’d come for my throat.”

Jimin glances over at you at Namjoon’s exposing words. After your exchange, you can’t really imagine him with a temper at all, let alone the worst one. But these vampires have shown to be masters of disguise afterall, why should it shock you? You feel a part of the bridge Jimin was building between you crumble away. You shouldn’t have trusted him so quickly.

“I’ll leave then.” He doesn’t argue, which you guess proves that Namjoon’s point rings true. Jimin spares you one last weighty look, trying to convey to you that he had meant what he said, before leaving you alone in this dark room with the tall vampire.

Namjoon is quiet, assessing you with that dagger-like stare of his as if you’re a child who’s just doodled all over the wall with your crayons. It almost makes you shrink away, but your defiance grows bold with him, more than anyone else. You meet his eye with the same harshness he doles.

“It’s Monday today.” He says. It’s an ordinary sentence otherwise, but now it holds a meaning. You’re his Feed today.

You don’t know who out of these vampires you prefer, but it is definitely not Namjoon. He doesn’t have to say it, but you can tell by the disdain in his eyes that he does not see you as more than his next meal. Even if Jimin was pretending, at least he spoke to you with decency.

“For future reference, I would rather you not associate with anybody else but me on the days where you are mine.” The way he articulate certain words accentuates his snobbish attitude that you want to punch out of him.

And I would rather you not suck my blood or magically link my life to you until my death, you want to say. Your rage is returning at an accelerating rate.

“It wasn’t my fault he came into my room.” His brows draw at your snark.

“He won’t be doing so again. Also, refrain from using that tone with me.”

“What tone?”

You’re being especially difficult, and you pride in the way his mouth twitches in annoyance. A man of his character is easy to tick off. He moves his hand towards you and you flinch abruptly, the memory of your uncle’s raised fist fresh in your mind, in an instant reducing you to the scared girl you have been for so long. His hand ceases its motion midair.

When you meet his eyes, they are wide in alarm, as if he hadn’t expected such a reaction from you.

“I- wasn’t going to hit you.” His voice low, he lets his arm drop to his side.

His words perplex you, his softer tone even more. If you didn’t know better, you would say he looks slightly abashed. Guilty even.

Namjoon clears his throat at your silence, glare hardening once again.

“You have a sharp tongue, girl.” Tutting, he walks over to the bookshelves with his hands held behind his back like some professor.

“You have sharper teeth.”

His head whips back at your retort, then in a blinding speed you thought not humanly possible, he closes the distance he had walked from you, appearing a finger-length away in front of you. You stagger back on the bed.

“Don’t make your life difficult for yourself. As I’ve said, address me by Sir when you speak to me, and speak to me with respect, as you would to authority. Those are simple rule to abide, but if you knowingly continue to choose to break them, I have the capability to make your stay with us a living nightmare.” There is not the slightest humour in his eyes.

His threat would instill fear in anyone, except you have heard it all before and so it brushes past you like an autumn breeze. Brazen, you stand up on the mattress, the leverage allowing your height to surpass his as you look down at him.

“My life already is a living nightmare, Namjoon. It has been for a while now so your threat means nothing to me. You want me to speak to you with respect, but why the fuck should I? Your brother Jimin at least looks at me like I’m a human being. You talk to me like I’m no more than your dinner served in a dress. You want to hurt me? Go fucking ahead. Kick me, slap me, strangle me, burn me. I’ve had it all before.” Words tumble out of your mouth on their own accord, driven furious by his contempt. “You think you can command me to be your little bitch? Think again, because I will never,” you take one step closer to him, “ever respect a self-important cunt like you as long as you look down on me like that.”

The fury in his crimson irises brews quietly. Namjoon’s jaw is clenched so tightly his cheeks hollow inwards.

At the back of your mind, a small ounce of regret and fright registers. You have just yelled your wrath at the face of a millenia-old vampire, one who’s supernatural abilities you have not a single clue about yet. He could kill you right now, but you know he won’t. Many things are worse than death. He needs you alive, but only barely, enough to be his blood bag.

Still, you don’t cower as he pulls you by the wrist towards him, so hard that your foot missteps and you fall onto him as your knee gives way, inherently grabbing onto his shoulder for balance. Your faces are inches apart, closer than you would ever want to get to this monster. But what terrifies you more than your ill fate is how handsome he looks this close. His strong features carve into your core and you hate it. His musk fills your nose; he smells clean like cotton.

Your upheavance seems to have unleashed a cold storm from him. His silence is more frightening than when he speaks. But now that you are set on this path of defiance against Namjoon, you must commit to it. Can’t back down right now.

Then he brings your wrist to his mouth, grip not painful but tight enough, his eyes never leaving yours just as yours are locked on his, in a quiet battle between his dominance and your rebellion. If you look away, you let him win, you let him know that he has a hold on you.

So you watch as his sinks his sharp teeth into your pulsing vein without so much of a blink. The agony is a motherfucker, so intense your head dizzies immediately and your hand clenches spastically. Yet still, your eyes remain on him, even when your throat is itching to whimper at the pain. Does it hurt less the second time around? You would have hoped so but it doesn’t. If anything, because of the anticipation, it hurts more.

Namjoon doesn’t feed for long though. He doesn’t need to, this is no more than a show of his power. When he releases your wrist, blood oozes out of the two holes down your arm, dripping off your elbow onto the sheets.

You notice that his chest is rising particularly hard. He is trying hard to control his thirst. From Jimin’s description earlier, you gather that it isn’t easy for vampires when it comes to angel blood. It must be driving him insane right now. You don’t know how to feel. Perhaps empowered, but also afraid.

The black of his pupils is beginning to spread like the had done when they had all transformed earlier. He quickly turns away and take several steps back. Faced with his back, you slump down onto your knees in the mattress, trying to stop your bleeding wrist in your clutch.

“Fuck you.” You spit, though it comes out less harsh than inteded as a hesitancy holding you back. Provoking him is not a good idea right now.

His shoulders are rising and falling heavily as his breathing deepens. The sound of blood splattering from his chin onto the wooden floor fills the air. Right now you’re filled with uncertainty, of what is going to happen and what you should do. Is he vulnerable right now? Or is he more powerful after feeding on you? Do you make a run for it? Or do you keep your mouth shut and stay here?

“When will you listen, girl.” The deepness of his grumble stirs a wild hot sensation in you that you don’t understand. He is still facing away from you, heaving. You watch his closed fists clench tighter.

“I told you. Never.”

“How can you expect me not to lose my head when you oppose every single word I say?” His head hangs low, shoulder blades poking out at his black shirt.

“How can you expect me to willingly let you drink my blood for the rest of my life? Especially when you talk to me like that?” You train your voice to be more reasonable, less attacking, because you feel the danger lurking beneath his skin that he is trying to control.

“Just obey. Make it easier for yourself.” Watching your blood continuously flow out of your fresh wound makes your head light. You will bleed to your death if he doesn’t heal you, however he does that.

Still, you consider his suggestion. You could just obey, accept this as your life now - a Feed for seven vampires to take their turn with you. You thought your uncle had beaten all the self love out of you, but maybe after all, you still value your own worth. Submission has a disgusting taste. Or maybe it’s just that you want to anger one of them so much that they in the heat of the moment kill you, so you can finally meet your long-awaited death.

“I won’t.”

Everything is still for an ominous pause following your refusal. Cautious, you watch his strong back, unsure of his next response. Though there are no open windows or doors to the room, you feel a gust of cold air breeze past you, sending a flare of chills on the sides of your neck.

When Namjoon slowly turns to face you again, black wholly consuming his eyes, fangs protruding from his gaping mouth, still dripping with the red you paint, you know to be scared. You don’t have time to scuffle away when he whizzes to you with that impossible speed of his again. And in a blink of an eye, he is before you, knees hitting the edge of the bed. Panting, growling, yanking your throbbing arm up.

Namjoon before shifting is an insufferable prick. Namjoon after shifting is an unrecognisable beast. Well-spoken manner, pristine appearance, air of arrogance, all gone.

As he bites into your wrist again, you can’t hold in your shriek this time, not when the wounds he had pierced are still burning and bleeding profusely. You almost cry for help in your desperation, but remember that there’s no one to help you here. In this house are seven vampires, and you.

But then something feels different.

There’s a tingling in your chest, not quite enjoyable but also not unpleasant. Before you can grow accustomed to it, it accelerates like the heart-lurching pull of gravity, and squeeze your whole body into a tight compression. You feel as though you’re racing through space, yet your body is unmoving, slouched against his form.

Then, tug.

Something is pulling you. Someone is pulling you.

You look around through your half shut lids from exhaustion but see no one except the two of you.

Another tug. And you realise it’s not physical. There is a knot tying in your chest right now, and you faintly recall an uncannily similar experience when you had first woken up here. Like a cord, a rope violently pulling on your soul.

Is this… the so-called Sire Bond they spoke of that permanently fixes you to a vampire?

Glancing up gives you the answer you seek. Though his eyes are pitch dark, there is an indecipherable difference in them, something so minute yet so significant in the way he is staring back at you.

Namjoon stops feeding.

And inhales.

Exhales.

You tremble because you feel the animal that is his desire embrace you like a mist. During your encounter with him, both times when he had fed on you before, not once did he express desire even remotely unlike his brothers. Yet now…

His fingers around your wrist suddenly feel gentler. Stunned, you glare at each other, studying the other’s response at the tether binding your souls. Both your angers seem to fritter away into smoke.

Why do you feel… a hunger? A yearning for his touch?

Without realising what you’re doing, you wipe the back of your hand across his wet chin, your blood smearing into sangria stains. He lets you. You study his face, he studies yours. He is so infuriatingly handsome, you notice. You almost want to…

No, you do want to.

But why? What is wrong with you? Why are you wondering how his lips feel when they are red with your blood that he’s forcefully drinking?

You shudder because you see him glancing down at your lips too. You see the turmoil in his brain, the confusion from the twitch of his brow.

Then he firmly places his hand on your waist and bring your body to his. Though his touch is ice through the fabric of your garment, your skin feels warm. Scathing, in fact. This time when he sucks on your bleeding wrist again, it feels less aggressive. More… Intimate. You watch Namjoon’s eyes shut slowly in a state of euphoria, entranced by your taste. It doesn’t really hurt anymore; the sting is ever present, but now it is accompanied by a pulsating pleasure entering up your arm and running into your every fibre. His hand snakes around your back until you’re completely pressed onto his chest. Your own hand reaches his sternum to create space between you out of instinct but you find it stopping at his pectoral, your fingers curling over the firm muscle.

He leans into your touch, and you grapple onto his chest because your head is spinning, both from the supernatural bond coiling around you and the continuous loss of your blood.

After one last gulp, he releases your wrist from his mouth, but doesn’t let it fall to your side, instead carefully guiding it to his shoulder, urging you to circle your arm around him. Though his eyes are still obsidian and he’s still in his shifted beastly state, vulnerability is splattered across his face. This isn’t Namjoon from before. This is an entirely different being whom you don’t recognise.

Lifting his arm to his teeth, he rips into his own wrist, the puncture of his skin almost like a crunch of an apple. Your gasp is muffled when he places it against your lips, offering his blood for you to drink. To heal you.

The metallic taste you expect is absent. In its place is the juice of a fruit so fresh its sweetness cures your thirst and ailments. You don’t hesitate to swallow the fluid pouring onto your tongue. So now you know how you must taste to them.

Simply divine. Like drops of Heaven.

Though it must be magnified by miles for them. You are not even a vampire.

You watch him watch you drink his blood like it is some erotic ribald scene, the intensity of his glare shooting a flame to your core. And when your tongue licks at his skin to lap up the spilled droplets, he lets out a grunt and leans into the crown of your head. With his fangs still extended, his nose roams your hair, breathing in your scent that he is craving, but in a different way from thirst.

As Namjoon removes his arm from you, depriving you of his blood once more, you feel your bite wounds itch ferociously. When you look down at them, you see that your skin is sewing itself back together. Until it is once more porcelain-smooth. Not a single mark save for the crusts of your drying blood.

Unbelievable.

You are too shocked to even make a sound.

But that is quickly overruled by a different sensation - Namjoon’s lips brushing the tip of your ear. Your sharp inhale arouses him, you feel it stiffening at your hip. Holding your jaw firmly, he pulls away to look at you. And what an unholy sight you are: an angel-anointed girl with the blood of a vampire slathered across her snout.

There is a carnal glint in his onyx pools, you catch it the very moment before he kisses you. Hard and fast. Full of a desperation that has the bond between you winding you closer to him. You taste your own blood in his mouth, and it is bland and regular compared to his, but somehow the idea of your bloods mixing on each other’s tongues excite you. There is a hint of a voice in your head screaming at you to stop but you banish it. You have never felt a stronger desire than right now, in the arms of a man you hate.

Falling back onto the bed with his frame hovering over you, you allow him to guide your lips, wield you, mould you. When your hand reaches to cradle his cheek, he grips both your wrists and pins them above your head, holding them in place with a single hand big enough to encircle them both. Even in this monstrous inhuman state, his need for dominance eclipses the rest of his character.

You feel beside yourself under his kiss. So sensual, driven by lust. This isn’t you, but you don’t care. You don’t care about anything other than how much you crave Namjoon this very moment. When he grabs onto the flesh of your ass, you forget how much you had wanted to hurt him just minutes ago. And when you feel the tip of his fangs scrape gently against your tongue, you forget yourself altogether.

With a growl, he pulls away from the kiss and flips you over onto your front as if you weigh no more than a feather. Swiping your hair to one side, he grazes his teeth along your neck. It tickles more with the thrill of knowing that the could bite down anytime. You think you want him to. His hands ride up the flimsy material of your dress, it’s bumpy calluses exciting you. Then he puts his weight onto your ass, grinding his hard member into your crack with only mere layers of fabric separating you from his meat.

“Sir...” The word tumbles out at the peak of your moan mindlessly. You are truly not yourself.

At that, you feel his hefty cock pulse on your rear. Namjoon’s body falls onto you in defeat at your name for him as if that one syllable alone had slain him. His fingers wrap around your wrists again as he continues to grind furiously into you. The strap of your dress has slipped off your shoulder, and he takes your skin between his lips, brushed by his hot velvet tongue.

A familiar warm slick is pouring out of your cunt, wetting your panties and the crotch of his trousers. You need him so badly you want to sob. Your core is twisting and throbbing for him, aching to be stretched out. This isn’t enough. His cock sliding between the cheeks of your ass isn’t enough. You need him thrusting into you like this from behind.

“Fuck me, please!” You know his self control is ebbing away into oblivion like yours. You can’t wait any longer.

But then he sits up, so abruptly that the bed creaks loudly. Your whole back feels barren without his contact. You quickly twist to look at him, in time to see the black of his eyes slowly retreating to reveal white, then waning back to their normal crimson-tinted irises in a blink.

Instantly they are enshrouded in confusion. Disbelief.

Namjoon has shifted back to himself in an instant. No longer the demonic desire-driven vampire who was just pushing his stiff member between your ass.

“I-” He chokes.

Your high gradually rides down its hill as well as clarity begins to fill your cup once again, clearing away the fog of your vertigo. Your senses, your own self creeps back into your body as you register what was going on. Breathing heavily the both of you, for a dreaded second, all you do is look at each other.

Then without another word, he speeds out of the room like lightning, the echo of the door slamming shut after him startling you.

You blink and he is gone.

Leaving you wondering what the fuck had just happened.

And what the fuck had you done to each other.

❦

@serendipity-secrets @killcomet @askingtheimportantthingshere@blackpanther4550 @comingjimin @unatempesta-dipensieri @dapppphhhhh

❦

03/10/2019

© Copyright 2019

#bts #bts smut #bts vampire au #bts angst #bts x reader #bts fan fic #bts poly au #ot7 x reader #namjoon #namjoon smut #namjoon vampire au #namjoon x reader #seokjin #seokjin vampire au #yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi vampire au #hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok vampire au #jimin #jimin smut #jimin vampire au #taehyung #taehyung smut #jungkook #jungkook smut #curly-bangtan #curly-bangtan adoh #adoh

[theshinsun]

oh Kise?

oh worm??

Why I like them

I’m actually gaining a whole new appreciation for Kise these days; underneath the airy smiley surface he’s a really nuanced character, and every time I rewatch/reread KNB I notice something new about him. I love how his passion for basketball grew when he decided to devote himself to it, and how he’s inspired by Aomine and motivated by losing to Kuroko and Kagami, how he’s desperate to improve and play to the point of overwork and injuring himself, and still keeps going. He’s got a very satisfying arc when he learns to appreciate his team and respect his seniors, and I’ve learned to appreciate and respect him for it too.

Why I don’t

All that said... sometimes he can still be a little grating. He’s a little too superficial sometimes, especially dealing with his fangirls, and he seems to get the anime trope treatment disproportionately often compared to the other GoM. Much as his arc and motivations are well-written, I feel like they could be pushed just that little bit further to make him more compelling, but that’s honestly getting into nitpicks, he’s still a great character for what he ended up being.

Favorite episode (scene if movie)

This might not seem like a very important scene, compared to some of his others, but I just fuckin... love the restaurant scene after the first Seirin/Shuutoku game, where he sits at the same table as Kagami, Kuroko and Midorima, and talks about why they play basketball and how losing changes them. (Midorima looking at him and saying he’s changed “your eyes... they’re strange”, before realizing he’s actually gone back to how he was before the Teiko finals is... Important to me) 

Favorite season/movie

Season three Kise can GET it. The ultimate glo up, he’s so awesome in the game against Haizaki’s team, and rematch against Seirin; I love Kasamatsu being like “go give them a greeting” and he just squares tf up it’s so badass. Side-note -- he’s also one of the only characters the Last Game treated well, after being considered “the worst of the bunch” he totally earned his moment to be the best, most powerful member of the GoM for a little while.

Favorite line

That moment in the Seirin/Kaijo game when he gets off the bench despite his coach’s disagreements and goes back into the game, because “I love this team”. I cry every time. “I liked being Kise of Kaijo” is a close runner-up.

Favorite outfit

Okay all his model outfits slap, but hear me out... season one when he shows up at Seirin and goes one-on-one with Kagami, still in his suit pants and shirt and he still kicks ass... iconic.

OTP

Um... so KiKasa or KiKuro seem like obvious choices, and they do have some great development... but I’m actually weaker to KagaKise I think. I don’t know why there’s something about their dynamic, they’re just such friendly rivals (by season 3 at least) and seem to bring out some really good things in each other (and I love the concept of Kagami being able to get Kise to loosen up and be more human, see Two if by Sea by tormalyne) their relationship is just so interesting to me. KiKuro is also up there but I think KagaKise beats them out by a hair.

Brotp

MidoKise. I have seen the light. I could also see them work as a romantic pairing, but the way they play off each other and banter is the Actual Best no matter the context I love these guys.

Head Canon

Kise strikes me as like, the worst enabler in existence. I feel like he shrugs off serious topics and plays things off as no big deal all the time, and he just does whatever he can to minimize discomfort and drama, if it means avoiding difficult conversations, or placating people with material things to get them off his case. He lets a lot of things slide and turns a blind eye when there might actually be something wrong, and it’s not very healthy how he constantly dodges people’s efforts to help him.

Unpopular opinion

Not really an unpopular opinion as much as a lack of understanding, but I just don’t... get AoKise. I mean I get it, but I don’t Get it, you know? Like they’re alright, they’ve got history and some chemistry and you all know I ship Aomine w literally everyone, but I just... still can’t get myself to see it as anything more than a casual fwb deal, or at best an unrequited love. I don’t see the compelling star-crossed romance other people seem to see, I don’t know why. (If anyone wants to try to convert me, I’m all ears, I’m mostly just perplexed by the popularity of this ship). 

A wish

I sincerely wish Fujimaki had the balls to make Kise gay. Not as a device to set him up with people so my ships can be canon, far from it, I just think he’d be a much more compelling character if he was, and out of everyone in KNB (except maybe Mibuchi) he’s the one with the most pieces laid out. It’s right there, and it would add so much depth; having to put on a hetero performance for the sake of his modeling career, trying to differentiate between genuine admiration and attraction, worrying about not being accepted by the friends he’s been able to make if he were to come out... it’s just a shame we weren’t given that bc Fujimaki insists on having everyone but the caricatures be straight. 

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen

I think the worst thing that could happen to Kise is for him to get bored with basketball. Because that will mean there probably isn’t anything he can get into that he won’t tire of eventually, and it leaves the rest of his future looking pretty bleak. I don’t know how likely it is to happen, but at his rate of improvement he very well might face an Aomine-esque spiral one day, and that is... a troubling thought. 

5 words to best describe them

Bright. Flashy. Idyllic. Pursuant. Ravenous.  

My nickname for them

Golden Boy. I also tend to call him a labrador retriever in my head, which, if you know the parallels I draw between him and Mr Peanutbutter...

#that turned out long #kise ryouta #knb #answered #shin speaks #taigainside #turns out i have a lot to say about this boy #i should write him more often

[imaginesebastian]

Only Room for Desire

@sebbybarrnes asked: i was wondering if i could request a professor!bucky x reader oneshot where they’ve always had this sexual tension and in class she starts seducing him, he releases his class early and then they smash. like a smutty, fluffy fic. :)

A/N: ahhh I tried to follow as closely to what you wanted as possible, butttt I got a bit carried away. . .  I hope you enjoy it! Again I’m sorry it took so long, my inbox was an absolute mess and I was finally able to go through it. Thank you so much for the request babes xx

Warnings: Everything in the book tbh 

College was always on your mind. From assignments, to scheduling, to payments for student loans, it felt like you couldn’t get a break. That is, until you got to your Film Studies class. Then it seemed that the only thing on your mind was Professor Barnes. 

Sure, you knew that it wasn’t necessarily appropriate that you thought of him bending you over the desk and spanking you until your ass turned red, but that certainly didn’t stop you. The only reason you hadn’t dropped the class in the first place was because Professor Barnes insisted that his class would be worth it. 

You rushed across campus and into the English building, running up the stairs as quickly as you could. Why you scheduled your classes so far from each other was beyond you, but you had to get there early so you had a chance to banter with Barnes. 

Your favorite part of the day. 

You walked into the classroom and for once, you were not the first one there. Your face dropped, looking at the elevated desks and deciding it was best to sit in the front. You know, for the best view. 

Professor wasn’t in yet, and you quietly listened to the chatter among the other students in the room. 

“Did you hear that Professor Barnes is on Tinder? Who would have thought a man that looks like that would have to use a dating app.” 

You quickly turned your head back to the two girls a few rows behind you, a tinge of jealousy hitting once you realized they were just as attracted to him as you were. 

“I heard he likes younger girls, maybe I actually have a shot with him.” 

You rolled your eyes. There wasn’t any way you were allowing that to happen. 

Soon, Barnes walked into the room and the conversations were hushed. “Good afternoon, my favorite class,” it didn’t take him long for his eyes to find you, you always sat in the same spot. It was almost like he was looking for you specifically, “I trust you all did the essay on location in films and the importance of a good set.” 

Shit. 

Everyone began to get up and set their essays in the box, besides you. You hadn’t quite finished it yet, and you didn’t realize it was due today. Barnes looked through all the names and looked up to see you tapping your pencil anxiously against the desk. 

You two had always had an interesting relationship, from the start of the semester to now. You knew he was keenly aware of your attraction to him, and you decided it was best not to hide it from him. He didn’t seem to mind, either, as you weren’t one to shy away from giving him a show. Only he could see the subtle things you did, beneath the feet of the other students who were usually too enthralled with the film on screen to notice. 

“(Y/N)?” his eyes looked you up and down, your legs slightly agape beneath the desk, your skirt just short enough for him to get a good view. You knew what he liked. “Where’s your essay?”

You closed your legs tightly, watching him slip his glasses upward and resting them on the top of his head. God did he look sexy with his hair pushed back. . . 

“I, uh, I’m not quite finished with it yet. I thought the due date was next Friday.” you explained swallowing nervously when you heard a snicker from behind you. 

“Since this is your last course for today, you wouldn’t have a problem staying after class and finishing it here? I need them for the gradebook.” He said, and again you heard a small laugh. 

You nodded, “Yes sir, I’ll stay.” 

“Alright.” He looked up at the projector and switched it on, “Today we’ll be breaking down scenes from La La Land. From use of color, to character framing. I want to know everything you guys noticed.” 

You sunk slowly in your chair as the first scene started to play, the vibrancy of LA streets depicted in this movie bleak compared to your heart pounding in your chest. You were going to be officially alone with Professor Barnes, for longer than five minutes. 

Oh god. 

The hour long class was quick to end, so you pulled out your laptop to finish your assignment while the rest of the class filtered out through the door.

You typed away quickly, almost blocking out the rest of the world because you knew the moment you looked up and saw Barnes behind his desk, you would only be able to imagine yourself beneath it, sucking his long, huge co- 

“(Y/N)?” 

“Yes, sir?” You couldn’t help but call him that. 

“What has you so distracted that you couldn’t finish your assignment, huh?” He was standing in front of you, his hands on his hips while your eyes scanned over his tightly fitted slacks. 

“Just, uh,” you licked your lips, swallowing harshly, “got my dates mixed up. I’m sorry.” 

He chuckled, turned around and going back to his desk, where he straightened out some papers. “Y’know, when you wear skirts that short, I can’t help but stare.” 

You looked towards the door, seeing students pass by unbothered in the hallway, “Maybe that’s the point.” His ass looked great in those pants. 

“Oh? Is that so? And why would you want me to stare Miss (Y/L/N)?” He turned back around, his slacks now straining against his groin, his body moving quickly towards the door and locking it. 

You gulped, staring straight ahead. This was something you wanted for so long and now that it’s happening, you didn’t know how to react. 

“(Y/N), look at me.” 

“I am.” 

“No, you’re not. You’re looking through me right now. I thought this would be something you wanted?” He was backed away from you, leaning against his desk again, still prominent with arousal. You met his eyes, the burning blue almost blinding. 

“Considering the last few classes, I wouldn’t think seeing me in a short little skirt again would leave much desire.” You teased, but you knew it was the nervousness talking. Fuck, (Y/N), you know you want this.

Professor Barnes chuckled, “(Y/N), I’ve wanted you from the moment I first saw you. And if you think that you sitting in front of me in such a short skirt doesn’t overwhelm me with desire then you’d be mistaken, I just don’t budge unless I’m invited.” 

For a few seconds, you was speechless. So much had happened in such a little amount of time, your brain was having a hard time sorting through it all. You looked at Professor Barnes and it was almost as if scales had dropped from your eyes because suddenly, you did see him. In all his gorgeous, up close glory. Those high cheek bones, eyes darkened by lust, his elegant hands and his long fingers, fuck. Finally you noticed his insatiable desire for. . . you. Oh god he was beautiful. Absolutely, incredibly beautiful and now that you’re so close to him, you couldn’t stop staring. 

Closing your laptop, you slid it away. 

“Kiss me.” 

The words left you without any thought and you realized that you wanted this- no, needed this more than anything. Barnes leaned over and allowed his lips to close over yours, softly, gently. He gave you as much time as you needed to change your mind, to push him away, but you didn’t. You slid your arms around his neck and brought him closer. 

He ran his tongue along your lips until you opened your mouth. He touch yours for a moment before retreating, teasingly, back into his mouth. Another flickering touch and back again, and again. Coaxing you, persuading you. Finally, you traced your tongue into his mouth, feeling the answering rub, and the unbelievable sensation of him sucking on it. 

You moaned, unable to help it. Your sense ignited, and you maneuvered one hand from his neck to his shirt. One by one, you undid his buttons. When it was finally undone, you rested your open palms against his bare chest and it did feel as incredible as it looked. Professor Barnes reached behind him and flicked the collar off of his neck, allowing the silk garment to hit the floor beneath his feet. 

He moved his lips down to your neck, easily finding your sweet spot and sucking. The feel of him sucking your neck aroused you deeply, the waves of heat sweeping through you had you quivering. 

You felt your hands trace every muscle on his abdomen, finally snaking your hands around his waist and bringing him closer which earned a low growl of approval from deep within his throat. 

His lips came to your ear, before he licked the shell and whispered. 

“I want you so much. Tell me you want it too.” 

“Yes.”

The word had barely left your mouth, before he was leading you around the desk and carrying you to his own. He sat you down on the wooden desk and rested firmly between your legs. You slipped your blouse over your head and in one quick motion, he reached behind you and unclipped you bra. His palms cupped each of your breasts before moving down and sucking on your nipples. 

A clench of pure desire heated between your legs. He gripped your other breast in his hand, squeezing your nipple between his fingers. Your back arched and you clasped his head. The sensation of his teeth scraping softly against your nipple was almost too much, you thought you would faint. 

Professor Barnes rose your skirt up, exposing your pelvis and allowing the only thing on you to shield you to be your panties. He traced his hand along them, pressing inward. The friction of the cotton and his fingers made your nerve endings jump. A groan left his pink lips while he slipped your panties off of you, barring you in his gaze. 

“Oh fuck. You’re so beautiful. Absolutely exquisite.” he breathed before kissing you with a thoroughness that left your head spinning. He trailed his mouth to your nipple again, his hand searching for your center. Those fingers caressed you knowingly, almost as if you’d told him all your secrets. When his thumb rubbed against your clit and a finger slid inside you, you were trembling with need. 

A harsh noise of protest escaped you when he stopped, his mouth left your breast and he kissed his way down your stomach. 

“Professor, wait!” You gasped, shocked. 

“Stop?” He said pausing just above your navel. 

“Uhm, not stop all of it, I just don’t think it would be appropri-” 

He almost snorted, “Well I do think it is. We’ve come this far.” He winked before sinking down to the level of your sex. 

At the first touch of his tongue, your mind went completely blank. A long, thick stripe covered you, leaving seared flesh in it’s wake. He spread your legs further until each of them straddled his shoulders, all the while plying and delving into the soft, pink flesh. 

You didn’t tell him to wait anymore, because you couldn’t. Moans you didn’t recognize were leaving your mouth with increasing volume and wrenching, twisting spasms of pleasure curled inside of you. You writhed above him, feeling him explore every nuance of you with intense intimacy. Your hips pressed closer to him helplessly, an aching emptiness inside you grew with each stroke of his tongue. You were being pushed to an edge you had never been to before. Barnes increased the pressure, ratcheting up the intensity, and when his mouth finally settled on your clitoris and he sucked, you screamed. 

Shards of ecstasy burst through you, traveling from the center of your extremities in a flash. Your heart, which you thought was simply going to burst, slowed down significantly. The heat you felt before was replaced with a new warmth. A sense of euphoria so strong, your eyes burst open in astonishment. 

Barnes looked up at you through his eyelashes, his mouth wet with your excitement, “You have never looked more beautiful.” He whispered, his voice full of passion. 

He brought his lips to yours and for a split, you were embarrassed. Then, you found the new saltiness on his lips to be unbelievably pleasuring. His tongue twirled with yours and his hardened member slid against your crease. 

You shuddered, but he only swept the outside before doing it again, and again. 

“You tell me when.” He murmured against your lips, matching his hip movements with that of what his tongue was doing just moments before which brought the heat back with more intensity than the last time. 

“Tell me,” he moaned as a twist of his hips made you cry. 

Your heart pounded and your mind clouded but of course there was only once answer, “Now.” 

He gave you a dizzying kiss before slipped his slacks off of his hips, slipping his length deep inside of you. It didn’t take long for you to feel incredibly full, his slow strokes leaving just enough to the imagination as to what he could do to you. 

“Are you alright, darlin’?” 

It was intimate in a way you had never experienced, staring into each other’s eyes while he slowly moved his hips back and forth in one of the most erotic things you had never done. 

He was your professor, your teacher, and here you had him slipping inside you like a literal sex god, staring deeply into your eyes and making you forget about every single stressful thing you had ever went through. 

You could only nod in response to his question, feeling his thrusts begin to get a little faster. You quickly picked up on the rhythm and the increased contact had your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

“Wait.” you whispered, slipping off of the desk and turning around. He kissed your neck, “you want me to fuck you over this table?” 

You grinned, “Please professor.” 

Quickly, the once slow and steady movements were gone and was replaced with aggressiveness. He pushed your torso down and made sure your ass stuck up in the air perfectly. Your heels steadied your ankles as he kissed your back, before pushing into you once again. 

You gasped uncontrollably as his movements got more intense. Earlier hesitation forgotten, you thrashed beneath him and clawed the edge of the desks. His hurried breathing only turned you on more, as his throat let out a low growl. 

Barnes grabbed your hair and forced you upward, kissing your lips harshly while he continued to thrust deep inside of you with no intent on stopping. 

A cry left your mouth, finally. A flooded orgasm sweeped over you that was somehow even stronger than the first one that left residual tingles underneath your skin. 

Behind you, Professor Barnes groaned, his face twisting into pure ecstasy as he drove into you even more rapidly than before. You couldn’t look away from him, seeing his control evaporate from him was somehow enduring. The sweat dripped on his forehead as he kissed you yet again, almost bruisingly, shuddering for several moments. 

When you broke away to breathe, he shifted the two of you to lay on the floor beside one another. His arms coiled around you, and there didn’t seem to be enough oxygen in the room. He didn’t wait to press another kiss to your forehead, sighing in content while you began to feel drowsy beside him. 

“Oh darlin’, you wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve wanted to do this to you. Seeing all the guys in the class stare at you, it took everything in me not to bend you over in front of the class and show everyone exactly who’s yours.” 

You laughed almost in disbelief, “I’ve dreamt of the moment for months. I can’t believe it finally happened.” 

His voice was raspy, “Why don’t you call me Bucky from now on, yeah? And I’ll take you out for some dinner tonight?” 

You grinned, “I’d like that Bucky.” 

“Great,” his chest heaved, “It’s a date then.” 

You nodded with a smirk, “It’s a date.” 

#fun fact: my boyfriend helped me write some of this #is that weird? #it's probably weird #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #professor!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader smut #smut #bucky x reader fluff #sebastian stan

[animebw]

Binge-Watching: March Comes in Like a Lion S2, Episodes 1-3

Season 2, go! In which Rei’s growth makes me so fucking happy, the cast continues to expand ever outward, and somebody is gonna fucking PAY.

Running on Water

The first scene of Sangatsu no Lion was Rei waking up in his room after a bleak, depressive nightmare. The light was pale and peaked, the colors were washed out and grey, and his apartment was cast in heavy, empty shades of silence. It was as chilling an introduction to the terrors of living trapped inside your own head as I’ve ever seen realized. So when Sangatsu’s second season once again starts with a very similar scene of Rei waking up in his room, it couldn’t be clearer what kind of parallel it’s trying to draw. If the start of the first season was our introduction to Rei at his lowest, then the start of the second is our re-introduction to Rei after all the progress he’s made in the past 22 episodes. And the difference could not be more striking. Instead of silence, there’s a soft, welcoming background track. Instead of pale stillness, the outside light illuminates the empty space with a sense of warm comfort and the curtains billow in a wind that Rei no longer flinches away from. The space that seemed so alien, so bleak, now almost seems... hopeful. Like the dead air has been sucked out and replaced by a new sense of life. And just to drive that point home, whereas the first OP’s imagery had Rei sinking deep into the dark waters of his depression, this new OP shows him literally running on water, rising above his demons and pushing himself forward with unyielding determination. Rei Kiriyama is no longer drowning; at long last, he’s found the courage to live.

And I can’t even put into words how fucking rewarding it is to see. This poor kid’s been through so much, suffered so much shit he didn’t deserve, but he’s fought through hell and back to open up to the world, and he’s made it. He’s actually fucking smiling now! He’s having fun being the master of his school’s shogi club and hanging out with his new friends! He’s gotten cocky enough to do the classic glasses push in response to Hayashida’s shenanigans (”Please think on your own.”)! He gets invested in going full Doctor Stone with the chemistry kids! He’s actually eager about participating in fun experiments with them just for the heck of it (and they’re absolutely right, his delightful surprise made the whole experiment worthwhile)! And the sheer awe that bubbles over in his mind as he realizes he’s actually having fun at school for maybe the first time in his life is... gaaaaah, it’s so fucking good! It’s the happiest and most motivated we’ve ever seen him before! Hell, he even gets called out by so many people on the biggest stumbling blocks he still hasn’t gotten over- shogi being more a source of stress than fun for him, thinking he can breeze through the rookie tournament because he takes his opponents for granted- and it’s the first time it looks like those realizations actually get through to him! AND IT’S FUCKING HILARIOUS! Seriously, I could not stop fucking laughing at the way he blue-screens in response to being asked if he even finds shogi fun (”The background has metaphorical images as accompaniment”). But even that’s nothing compared to how fucking flawlessly Nikaido hands him his ass when he starts taking the tournament for granted again. Holy. Fucking. CHRIST. My sides still hurt from cackling at his embarrassed dash out of the shogi hall, he’s such an absolute jellybean it hurts. And the chairman leaving him to flounder in humiliation because it was funnier that way was was just the icing on the cake.

God, it’s just... it’s fucking joyful. I know I use that word a lot to describe this show, but it’s never been more apt than it is here. We’re seeing Rei finally start to embrace what life has to offer, finally start to value himself, finally start to take his life into his own hands and decide for himself what he wants to be a part of it. He even heads over to Akari and his sisters of his own accord, for no other reason than because he wants to see them, and he wants to share what’s going on in his life with them because he finally believes he has a life worth sharing. We’re seeing the hard-fought efforts of the entire first season burst into glorious bloom, and my cheeks still hurt from smiling so hard at it all. It’s spiritually fulfilling on a level I can barely put into words, triumphant and rapturous in the way that only the simple victories of ordinary life can be. It makes this kid seizing control over his own life feel as titanic as slaying a dragon, the smile that beams from his face in the presence of Hina and Momo the treasure it was guarding. Sangatsu no Lion has always been fucking amazing, but the emotions it’s reaching now are truly special. And if it keeps this level of quality up throughout the second season, there’s no question it’s gonna end up among my favorite anime of all time.

It Takes a City

But it would be a mistake to focus only on Rei here. After all, part of what’s made this show so compelling recently is how well it’s expanded its focus beyond him, getting us invested in the countless people whose lives intermingle with his. There’s almost a Gintama-esque quality to how expansive the cast is becoming. Following Rei’s life brings us into contact with a whole bunch of characters, we get invested in those characters by following their lives in turn, which also brings us into contact with even more characters who form their social circle, and each one of those characters gets a chance for us to follow their lives, and so forth and so on. It builds a vast, complex web of connections between the entire cast, with some people knowing everyone, some people only knowing a few others, and everyone presenting an opportunity to peek into a new social circle and meet even more people with life stories worth following. Rei may be the overall protagonist, but the tapestry of interconnected characters forming around him is just as important to the show’s focus. This is Shimada’s story now, and also Kyouko’s story, and also Souya’s story, and also a whole bunch of new stories we’re only just being introduced too. Sangatsu no Lion is officially an ensemble piece by now, and it’s a damn fine one indeed.

With a cast that big, a lot of these first few episodes are dedicated to setting up what stories we’ll be following moving forward, what characters we should have our eyes on and what journeys we should prepare to get invested in. It looks like we’re gonna be spending a lot of time with the elite shogi players in a big, high-stakes tournament. Souya’s still hovering in the background like a seagull waiting eagerly for his turn to shine, and we get a little more insight into him when it’s revealed that he drinks straight glucose in his tea to help keep his energy up in matches, an analytical approach befitting his almost inhuman nature. Meanwhile, his opponent Kamakura is a man of great stoic passion (”Sorry to interrupt when you’ve having fun, but can I have my shoes back?”), who carries himself with immense dignity but also scarfs down cakes at the speed of light, recognizes his defeat seventeen moves before it happens, and kicks a wall in fury over his loss when no one’s looking. Nikaido’s still on his Legendary Shonen Rivals LARPing kick (and Rei is more done with his nonsense than usual), Shimada’s understandably in a bit of a slump following his loss to Souya (here’s hoping he can fight out of it), and of all people, Gotou’s revealing tragic new dimensions behind his surface-level aggression.

Yeah, that shocked me too, but the time we spend with Gotou in this episode makes me realize that Rei might have been too quick to judge him. He’s the loudest voice to speak up in defense of Shimada’s honor when he’s being heckled by some snot-nosed brats (”It just annoys me seeing people heckle others when they haven’t even climbed into the ring themselves.”), he’s clearly struggling with the heavy burden of his comatose wife, and he just seems so... sad. I completely understand Rei’s uncertainty about him; if the same guy who’s causing his sister so much pain also stuck up for Shimada, how should he feel about him? And even Kyouko’s only becoming more and more compelling in her messiness. She actually went with him to help him buy presents for his wife in the hospital; that’s the most selfless thing we’ve ever seen her do, but she undercuts it right after by imposing on her personal space against his wishes. And as hilarious as it is for him to literally tie her to the bed to keep her from pouncing on him so he can get some sleep, it’s clear he doesn’t want nearly as much from this relationship as she does. He’s trying to distance himself from her, still caring about his wife, but he can’t quite outright tell her to piss off and leave him alone. It’s such a messy, broken, unhealthy bond, and as shocked as I am to be feeling sorry for Gotou, I’m genuinely nervous for how it could end up hurting both of them if they don’t sort their shit out.

FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

But that’s not what’s got me the most nervous at the moment. The true spike of horror that threatens to shatter this newfound comfort is possibly the most appalling turn this show’s taken yet: somebody’s been making Hina sad. Somebody at school has decided to make her life hell. And if you think you’ve seen me lose control of my emotions before, you do not want to know that thoughts than ran through my head when she comes home sobbing at the end of episode 3. Whoever’s bullying her better make damn sure they’ve picked up life insurance, because there’s not gonna be a scrap of them left when I find out who it is. I will eradicate them from the face of the earth so utterly there won’t even be a soul left to sink down to hell. Because that is the price you fucking pay for causing my favorite character in this show so much pain. And with Rei starting to relive memories of his own bullying, I can only imagine what painful parallels are gonna come up before all is said and done. I just pray he decides to be a kinder soul than me, because as much as I would love to see him act out justice, he in no way deserves the blood that would put on his hands. But mark my words, there will be blood before I let Hina suffer another minute. So get your umbrellas out, because we’re about to have one hell of a red rainstorm.

Odds and Ends

-lololol, it’s countermeasures all the way down.

-These cat shogi sections just keep getting more entertaining.

-”I don’t want to listen to reason right now!” i love him so fucking much holy shit

-Is it just me, or is there a lot more experimentation going on with the animation style? I dig it.

-”Do you guys do nothing but eat?” “It’s science.” ldskjskldjslkj

-”Throw those two out of here.” REKT

-”People who don’t cherish their family are trash!” Wooow, that’s a loaded statement.

-”To me, humans are the embidoment of chaos.” Ain’t that the truth.

-”A pie in the sky is tasty, but it won’t fill you up.” ...god dammit that’s such a great line

-”WE’VE GOT A CHILD PRODIGY HERE!” Grandpa, you’re the best.

-”The more I helped out, the sadder she looked.” This is the first time we’ve heard of his adoptive mom, and it’s already making me nervous.

-”I would play, and play, and play, and play, and play...” If you listen in the background you can hear me sucking in air, because Jesus fuck, I hate how I right I was in talking about his trauma.

Holy hell, what a show. See you next time for more of season 2!

#anime #the anime binge-watcher #tabw #march comes in like a lion #sangatsu no lion #3-gatsu no lion