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gleefultogo · 5 months

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Aira Character Talk

Since Aira was mentioned again in Saltyplaytoons (spongebob reference? Lol, funny either way) blog post I wanted to take a deep dive and talk about her. Plus at this point she’s the only pure character that deserves to be rescued from this shit comic and not written by a misogynist. She get’s shit on for no fucking reason.

It is very well known now that kique has stated that she is his “least” favorite character. Why? Probably because she’s another female character he made and got bored of her. Honestly it saves her the injustice he would have given her if she had more screen time. When we first met Aira, she was stuck in her creature form. I thought at first she was an evolved creature that was based on Aedra and her beast form was pretty cool in my opinion it looked like a mix between a cat and a dog. Which btw people was made and turned into by a Spirit, so that quickly leads my thoughts into rhov’s and feaf’s future kids. If a spirit can turn a dog into an evolved creature, then it’s very much possible because of the spirits for them to have hybrid kids. Will it be canon? I don’t know, like many have said; it’s obvious kique is bored of his own comic and shoved into our faces just to keep pages being pumped out with nothing really interesting. For me, I see the comic as a sitcom show that just goes nowhere and the characters do and say random stuff that doesn’t revolve around their world or plot. Besides, you can’t tell me half of the characters in this world wanna sit cooped up in one area based on “Tribes” Dog’s just don’t do that they would have way too much pent up energy and would need to run. Can you just imagine if this comic was realistic, the dog's muscles and bone structure would become weaker because they aren’t doing anything really, they just sit in one place and that's it. Ok sorry, back to Aira :)

(Aira’s first appearance form)

You see what I mean though? She resembles a sorta dog and cat hybrid mix. The paws are a dead giveaway as they look like a feline and she has retractable claws. It’s a neat design in itself. I'll give kique that much of any positivity for his comic XD.

Very Interesting design features if you ask me. Anyways, Aira gets killed by kargo and she wakes up a normal dog again and sets off into the woods to heal her wounds I guess? Probably also went to seek shelter maybe. We later on see her again on page 138. Heavily bleeding still and this when she meets keirr and you know how it goes. He ends up helping her and she’s taken aback from being surprised I guess, which is quite valid of her character, as we do eventually learn about her backstory and she was never treated kindly by others. Aira is a character who’s a really good example of someone who would have a “fixation” on someone, I don’t think it would personally be a bad thing and realistic to her character because she’s never been treated so kindly before and i don’t think she’d be able to help herself with that mindset. She obviously took comfort in keirr as she hesitated to follow him at first, but also because he was offering to help her and wasn’t appearing a threat to her.

(oh look when keirr was actually a nice guy, before becoming a dick to her)

Moving forward. Keirr takes her back to her cave and was suspicious why she was living in such a large area for one individual. Aira remains mute and just eats the food she was given. Which I suppose was rude on her part, but her communication skills seemed to be lacking as she was trapped inside a body and couldn’t talk for a long time, ok at least that makes sense because there is a valid reason enough for her to be doing that. Eventually keirr leaves her behind as she is now safely placed back into her sheltered area. But she ends up following him and keirr ends up venting to her about why he couldn’t go back to his family, he was understandably grieving over zilas. I find these next few parts important to Aira’s character. She willingly sits there even if not knowing him for not a very long time. But she sits there and listens to him vent and doesn’t question him, that’s just an empathetic thing and it's wholesome to have seen that in the comic as they being the characters actually talked about things that troubled them, and it didn’t lead to sex confrontation. She may not have known him very long, but she’s a character that gives off a warm and comforting vibe, like a friend you can tell anything too without her judging because she obviously cares about others.

Later keirr ends up following her and getting to know her more. Then we see a page with them together and keirr is giving her physical therapy?

(hey keirr how do you know about PT?). They end up jumping over some logs to strengthen her legs or whatever. Kinda pointless in a way if she was born with a weak structure. It’s like saying you can just magically cure a dog with mobility issues with just some PT. Wellll nope, it’s much harder and time consuming. Plus it won't fully heal someone with a physical disability, it may help strengthen her a bit, but she wouldn’t be able to fully walk normally. Compare it to a dog who was born with swimmers syndrome or cerebellar hypoplasia. That’s a lot of PT work and also medication in order for them to walk to a degree. It’s not something that can fully be cured, so Aira’s 180 later on would be really stupid when the author wrote her this way.

Now the next page (198) is important, keirr states he has to go back home cause he’s been gone for too long. Aira very clearly goes into panic mode and begs keirr to stay with her because she clearly states she doesn't wanna be “Alone” She’s told to basically just shut up and he’ll return soon whenever. Again Aira panics and kisses keirr forcefully.

Now I find that quite sad and interesting for her. I’m not a therapist or a physician by any means. But this is my own take on this situation. Aira is using a tactic that almost feels like she is forcing her own affection onto keirr, not being in control of her own body due to her panicking. In a way, yes Aira did sexually assault keirr and he had every right to confront her about it because it was wrong of her. He leaves her behind anyway to go back to his family. Aira is then left with what looks like the expression of shock and most likely guilt because she’s being left behind again and most likely processing stuff in her head. I'd like to believe that her mind is very scattered due to her having issues of being left behind.

We then proceed to see Aira again and most likely took keirr’s words to heart and goes back to the spirit of strength because she feels weak without and can’t survive. She practically feels hopeless without that spirit, keirr stops her and then asks was it because of him? Keep that in mind. Aira is obviously upset in this scene and then tells keirr her back story and the things she did. She basically claims that she went back to the spirit because of Keirr, she was upset. It’s like if someone told you as a person, that you weren’t good enough for them, nor did they want you around them because to them you felt like a burden. I wouldn’t be surprised if Aira was the first dog in the comic to commit suicide because she deems herself as a burden and was never accepted. If the spirits didn’t exist and the comic took more of a dark turn, I think she would have been a character to have that type of mindset.

Eventually keirr takes Aira under his wing with a better understanding of her to a degree. She proceeds to then help him look for his family as she’s apparently traveled all over the map while being a beast at the time and saw many tribes fall and create new ones. We meet the deer rp tribe and then kique puts them there because he doesn’t know what to do with them at that moment. Aira is then very clearly seen to be hesitant and doesn’t wanna join them because they were just going to ask if they saw family members of keirr’s. But then the 180 happens and they join anyway. Keirr becomes a dick and then judges fucking Aira behind her back because of the jarl confronting her leg structure. Yeah hey morons, maybe she's struggling because she got a giant ass heavy deer rack strapped to her head and has weak legs, antlers are not light things. Of fucking curse she’d be struggling.

Honestly that’s when I started hating keirr the most, like why the fuck are you jugding her? She literally told you she was born with a mobility disability and was tossed aside for it. *sighs* She ends up stuck with Keirr as a Herbalist, like kique? The fuck man, how stupid can you be. You made a character with a physical disability who struggles with that and you give her a rank that requires to walk a lot? Like what? She’d be a terrible herbalist because she’d probably take much longer to even get to a location and back to the tribe. She has to carry her weight around. How frustrating, it’s like he literally forgets his own character traits they have. Like if you didn’t wanna deal with a character with a disability then why give her one if you're gonna 180 it.

Page 481. The page that did it all for me and hated this dude's guts. Ok so even if Aira did end up stuck in a tribe she didn’t wanna be, plus she looks absolutely miserable in the panel. She literally got excited when he returned with bootleg kargo after their little flirting session or whatever that was.

(look at the sweet baby… I love her)

Like damn keirr, you should be fucking honored that someone likes you for you and your company, plus she was even worried about you. He could have easily just told her he was being sent to scout, like keirr did you not forget that you joined the tribe when you didn’t have too? Like at all. Aira stated to you that she didn’t wanna be there and wanted to go back to looking for your family. But whatever, he gives her the cold shoulder and tells her to suck it up and build connections with a tribe of strangers. God I really want to just rewrite this page at times. Keirr should have welcomed her with open arms (or paws) and told her about his travels and that he didn’t find what he was looking for unfortunately. Like why did you diss the only character who showed remorse and care for you. She obviously likes having you around and because you took her under your wing, you have no right to be a moody dick to her. This is when I see abandonment issues come into play. As someone who has abandonment issues myself, Aira is so frikin relatable. It hurts a lot when you think about it and you're stuck in your head wondering what you did or if you're doing something wrong to have someone push you away like that. It’s the worst feeling ever and poor Aira here basically got rejected from someone she clearly cares about.

(She looks so lost and heartbroken in this page) But like keirr, dude how the fuck did you forget that she told you earlier on before you joined the stupid tribe. That she literally went back to the spirit because of YOU. That’s basically her struggle, Rejection and being alone. I’m disappointed that some of the people were siding with keirr on this page. In reality if a friend asked about your mental health and you told them to fuck off in, just because your moody. Then be damned if they leave your ass. That's such a shitty thing to do to a person. Aira is no exception and didn’t deserve any of that. And sadly it only gets worse for her as even when he did do that, she still looked out for him and had to save his ass from a ghoul.

(She cares about him still)

(Fuck you keirr, you should have thanked her)

I’d also like to point something out. But in a certain page, Aira claims she lived with the meteor tribe. I’m unsure if she was referring to a beast or when she was a normal dog before cursing herself?

If that’s true then could Aira quite possibly be a victim to rape as well? I didn’t think much of it at first because the wording confused me for a while. But going back it made me think. If she was used by MT before arenak rules then she’s very much understanding when it comes to her trauma and issues she has. In conclusion Aira seems like a complex character with her own trauma and if it was written better, it would have been interesting to see her overcome her said trauma. She’s a literal victim, a lot more than what kique claims rogio and his “mental chains” bullshit. Aira didn’t have a choice in her life,she didn’t ask to be born the way she was or have to deal with not feeling wanted by others. I feel if kique actually knew how people worked when it came to trauma and one’s mental health and emotions. Aira and keirr could have been a great duo for each other and helped support each other as friends and grew a good connection based on needing each other in a certain time because they were struggling. Sexual intercourse during trauma isn’t something that’ll help someone. It's only a distraction really at the moment. But again it shouldn't be a way out when you're in your feelings and all that. It’s quite unhealthy. I’ll say it again, Aira deserves better and needs out of this terrible comic.

#home comic #asmundr #kique7 #asmundrhome #kique #bad dog comics #dog comic #home #kique nordin #asmundrcomic #Aira #johan nordin

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thecatundertheladder · 9 days

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FSM during march of the oni, how they feelin'?

Eeeeeee I'm so glad you asked because the thoughts I have had about this.

First of all some (potentially unnecessary) background info.

1. So Mystake is one of The Oni Warlords. This is canon. What isn’t canon is which one. While I haven’t fully decided on which one she’s going to be I’m leaning towards Venge because of a whole backstory and character arc that I haven’t written yet. But it’s not overly important right now.

2. Mystake and the Fsm have a parent-child relationship in this au. Mystake is also one of the people he learnt to fight properly from.

3. In this au the Oni Warlords are gods. But unlike Fsm, who simply can't die, they can be killed. However their deaths aren't permanent, and they always find a way to return, whether its by healing their own bodies, or by simply constructing new ones. Though depending on who kills them it might take longer to come back.

4. Because Mystake is a Warlord herself, it the other two they took around a thousand [the time may change] or so years for them to come back after she killed them. As a result, there was enough time between the Warlords leaving to chase the Fsm across The Sixteen Realms, and all three returning to the First Realm, that The Omega had time to rise to power. However, they were no where near as as powerful or beloved as the three Warlords were, so it didn't take long for them to be overthrown again, and The Warlords restored to power. The Warlords, along with the Fsm, ended the war between the Dragon and the Oni.

But The Omega had already gained a following of Oni who either did not want the war to end, or were outraged at The Omega being overthrown. So they bided their time, waiting for the perfect moment to get revenge on The warlords beloved half-breed. This revenge, of course, involved invading Ninjago. The reason there is such a large gap in-between the ending of the war [while I haven't got an exact timeline yet, I'm thinking it ended a few thousand years before Garmadon was born] is because they were waiting for a) the Fsm to be out of Ninjago and/or distracted (the Overlord's return fits this category nicely) and b) for a natural pathway to open between the First Realm and Ninjago (like the one in the Wailing Alps.)

5. Garmadon never died, and Mystake never died either (not that is would have been permanent if she had).

6. Wu and Garmadon lost their powers when Garmadon got banished to the underworld (this is also what caused the rapid aging). Since the Overlord's second defeat, they've slowly been coming back. But during March of the Oni they are on the same power level as a regular elemental master, otherwise the probably could've have taken out The Omega's army themselves.

So as of March of the Oni, the ninja are all fully aware of both Fsm being alive, and Mystake being an Oni Warlord. However, when the Oni attack, both of them are taking a vacation in another realm, so Ninjago City is still covered in darkness.

At this point Wu and Garmadon have switched to their true forms but with their powers being weakened, it only helps a bit. They are also trying desperately to contact either their father or Mystake through either prayer or magic. However, they don't succeed until they've already been barricaded in the monastery.

When the Fsm hears his children screaming in his head for help, he is understandably worried, it's not often that their kids are in true peril after all. When they finally manage to get the story out of their kids, they are furious in a way they haven't been in thousands of years. They quickly explain the situation to Mystake, who is (almost) as livid as Fsm, before teleporting them them to the monastery.

(They cause a lot of commotion once they get to the monastery. The civilians who had sheltered had not expected two massive beings to randomly appear in there midst. Especially since one looks similar to the beings they just escaped, and the other resembles the children of God. So it's up to the ninja to calm them down. Unfortunately telling them that the First Spinjitzu Master himself has arrived has the opposite effect, but at least they're less scared now.)

Upon arrival Fsm is momentarily thrown off by the civilians in the monastery, but they have spent their entire life being noticed and stared at, so the awe and fear that the civilians express doesn't bother him.

Fsm quickly transforms their clothes into proper armour (think crystalized style) and launches themself over the monastery walls and into the battle (Mystake doesn't follow him, she knows better than to get in the way of her child when he is on a warpath). Fsm proceeds to absolutely thrash The Omega and their army; burning them, freezing them, and throwing them off of the mountain. He makes the Oni regret ever conceiving this idea. The Fsm pays special attention to The Omega, and rips out their heart with their bare claws, because how dare The Omega think that they can just take his home, his family from him. They will pay for this in the life and blood, and no being in the sixteen realms can help them now. He will wipe them from the face of Ninjago.

And for the first time, The omega truly realises that just because the First Spinjitzu Master put an end to the war, it does not mean that they are a pacifist. It does not mean that they cannot rage with all the fury and savageness of a full-blooded Oni. They are balance incarnate, this does not make them good, and it's The Omegas fault for assuming that they were.

And so the Oni are banished and destroyed by the god of the land they sought to conquer. When the fighting stops, Garmadon creaks open the monastery gates to look outside. Fsm is covered in the Oni's blood, looking (and feeling) like one wrong move from someone is going to send them into a fit of madness. But they relax a bit at the sight of their eldest child safe. After making sure Garmadon is all right, the Fsm stalks back to monastery to find the rest of his family. And also to change out of their armour and clean up because there is blood in the seams and on his face and it's gross.

Once he enters the monastery he herds Garmadon, Wu, Lloyd, and even Mystake into the monastery, and they are wise enough not to argue with him. The First Spinjitzu Master is understandably agitated, and Mystake, Garmadon, and Wu know him, and their general Oni instincts well enough, to understand that they will barely be let out of his sight for the next few days (Lloyd, at this point, hasn't really experienced the full might of an Oni's possessiveness, but he will just have to get use to it).

Eventually the rest of the ninja sort out the civilians, and set them up in a nearby village while Ninjago City is still covered in darkness (the monastery has enough room for all of them, but the ninja aren't willing to find out what the First Spinjitzu Master will do to any "intruders"). At some point, Mystake sends for the other two warlords, who clear Ninjago City of the dark fog.

So yeah, Fsm is absolutely enraged that The Omega is attacking their home, and ends up reverting to the base instincts of 'defend your territory', 'defend your pack', and 'destroy anyone who harms them'. After he calms down he ends up a bit embarrassed about how he handled it, but before he can dwell on it too much he collapses from exhaustion.

But what a way to re-introduce themself to the wider population of Ninjago.

And in case you’re wondering where Morro is in all this, he's busy vibing with Nyad, who has all her memories because this au is incredibly self-indulgent.

#can you tell i love mystake #once again this ended up being way longer than expected #but oh well #fsm lives au #ninjago fsm #fsm ninjago #first spinjitzu master #ninjago mystake #ninjago wu #ninjago omega #ninjago garmadon #lego ninjago #ninjago

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pedrito-friskito · 1 year

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strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

during - part eighteen

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

joel does his best to distract himself, and you, and time just keeps on going.

a/n: SURPRISE. did I think this was gonna be done today? nope. did I anticipate the things happening in part 18 and 19 to be one big part? YEP. is there gonna be another part probably on thursday or friday? ALSO YEP. (also I’ll be replying to comments on part 18 soon I swear!)

word count: 5.7k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, some intense sex, joel is trying to fix his problems the wrong way, mentions/depictions of ptsd, canon-typical violence, we love tess servopolous in this house 🤍

✨y’all should know the drill by now - @friskito-library for updates on new chapters and new works!✨

Tess stays long enough for you to scrounge up something faintly resembling dinner. Between the two of you, you put a decent dent in the whiskey bottle. She doesn’t really pry, doesn’t ask anything beyond if Joel is okay, if you are. You open your mouth to answer, and the bathroom door opens. He doesn’t so much as glance at the two of you before he heads towards the bed, falling sideways onto it and rolling onto his side, facing the window, away from you both.

“I don’t know,” you breathe out, reaching for the bottle. You can feel Tess watching you, that intense gaze of hers making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “Joel caught him outside one of the Firefly buildings the other day. Split his knuckles on Tommy’s nose.”

“That explains it,” Tess sighs, leaning back in her chair. You slide the bottle across the table to her. “He was pissed as hell when he got home, all bloody and shit, wouldn’t tell me why.”

“It was like pulling teeth, getting him to tell me,” you say, glancing over at Joel’s prone form on the bed. You let your voice drop lower, just above a whisper. “My sister and I used to fight, but we never…” You shake your head, let your voice trail off. “It’s not the same, I know, but still. Did you have siblings? I don’t think I’ve ever asked.”

Tess shakes her head, swigs from the bottle with a wince. “Nope, only child. Thankful for it now, but it was lonely, growing up.”

You push your hands through your hair, sighing. “I can only imagine.”

A strange silence settles over you, and your gut twists. Tess is the closest friend you have, you hate lying to her, and that’s all you’ve been doing since Nick left. It’s for her own good, you reason, but it does little to ease the guilt.

“One of us should try and talk to Tommy,” she says after a moment, and you lift a brow. “Try and talk some fucking sense into him.”

You chew your lip, nodding. “I mean, you’re the logical first choice, I would think. Tonight was supposed to smooth shit over between him and Joel to start, not make it worse. If I go now, he’ll just think I’m defending Joel. And if Joel even agreed to go, they’d both end up beat to shit, I think.”

“This could get him killed, Liv,” Tess says, and your stomach fills with dread. “These fucking Fireflies, they have no idea what they’re doing. I saw the beginnings of shit like this in Baltimore, and that was before it even got to the point of bombings and shootings. They don’t know what they’re doing, what FEDRA will do to them if they get caught. We can’t lose Tommy. We can’t.”

“I know.” You reach out, cover her hand on the table with your own. Her knuckles twitch beneath your palm, and you curl your fingers around hers, squeezing. “Try and talk to him when you go home,” you say, your voice low, still just above a whisper. “See if you can get through that thick Miller skull. I’ll meet you in the afternoon tomorrow, and we’ll go from there.”

She just nods. “You got a job tomorrow?”

“Radio,” you tell her, rubbing your fingers across your brow. “Now that Hartford’s bust, gotta start making some new connections, see what’s out there.”

Another nod. “Smart.” But you can see the concern on her face.

“It’ll be okay, Tess,” you murmur, squeezing her hand again. “Promise.”

She leaves shortly after, taking the mostly empty whiskey with her. A peace offering for Tommy, she claims, and you hug her tightly before closing the door behind her.

You turn the lights off, double check the stove is turned off, unplug the generator that runs it. Soft yellow light filters in from the street, the curtains you still haven’t replaced ruffling slightly as you shut the living room window, blocking out the noise of the street below. Soldiers on patrol, trucks rumbling past, ambiance that’s far too close to what you’d grown used to in Boston pre-outbreak.

Joel murmurs your name as you head towards the bed, shrugging off his flannel and tossing it onto the pile of clothes in the corner. You need to do laundry, you think faintly, sinking onto the edge of the bed. There are blood-covered clothes somewhere in that pile, things you should probably just burn instead of trying to scrub the stains out in the shitty QZ laundry.

As you lay back, Joel rolls towards you, slinging his arm around your waist, hand snaking right up your shirt and curling around your ribs. He presses a hot kiss to your collar as you let your fingers rake through his hair, feeling the rumble in his chest as he hums.

“Joel,” you whisper, scratching your nails against his scalp. He makes a little noise, shuffling closer to you on the bed. “Baby, are you okay?”

He goes still suddenly, muscles tensing in every place he’s pressed against you, hand squeezing your ribs. You try to roll towards him, your free hand reaching for his shoulder, but he pushes your hand away, lifting himself up and over you, one thigh sliding between your legs until the thickness of it is pressed right against your crotch. It makes you hiss.

“Joel—”

“Don’t,” he rasps, his other hand planted on the bed beside your head. You can’t help but arch up into him, your body always managing to react to him whether you want it to or not. “Let me make you feel good.”

“We should ta—” you start, but you’re cut off by a bruising kiss. The force of it presses you down into the pillows, one leg lifting to hitch over his hip, your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair. He drinks the air from your lungs, pushes his tongue past your teeth and tastes your mouth, lowers himself just enough that the friction of his body weight sparks your blood with lust.

“In the morning, we can talk,” he grumbles, moving his mouth along your jaw, nipping at your skin. “I don’t wanna talk right now. Not about that.”

“J—” you start, but you never get the rest of his name out.

You’re only wearing a thin tank top, the flannel discarded, and Joel makes the most of it, curling his fingers in the front and pulling, your breasts spilling out over the elastic. He wastes no time, lowering his head to one, giving you just the slightest edge of his teeth, his hand abandoning your ribs to tweak at your nipple, coaxing it to a peaked bud between his knuckles.

Back arching, you pull at his hair, hooking your other foot around his leg and forcing him closer to you, seeking out the friction of his body between your legs. He doesn’t give it to you, but instead lets his mouth wander across your chest, giving your other side the same teeth-and-tongue treatment while his hand moves down, fingers sliding along your stomach, diving straight under the waist of your sweats. The pads of his index and middle press down hard on your clit, and you keen, his name gritted out as he draws circle after circle, the pressure maddening in the best way.

He detaches from you just long enough to pull his fingers back, pushing both past his lips, tongue laving at his knuckles. As he does, you reach for your waistband, lifting your ass and shoving the fabric over your hips. It gets stuck, your legs pinned together, but Joel barely seems to notice. His mouth returns to your chest, bites nipped across your skin, while he wedges his hand against you, fingers curled and pressing into you in one fluid motion. He buries them to the hilt, and stops, letting you adjust, his mouth still paying close attention to your nipples. You’re sure your chest will be littered with bite marks come morning, but as he curls his knuckles, you don’t fucking care.

“Joel,” you manage to rasp out, one hand buried in the back of his head, keeping him against you. “God, fucking fuck, please, can you—” The words are cut off with a moan as he scissors his fingers wide, pressing against that spot that makes your vision white out.

“What, baby?” he mumbles, his voice muffled by your skin. “What d’you need? Use your words.”

“I…I want…” You’re panting at the intensity, the multiple points of pleasure making your head spin. “Fuck.”

In a flash, he’s pulled himself out of your grip, hovering over you. With one hand, he pulls your sweats off completely, tossing the fabric to the side, and slides his knees beneath you, your legs spread wide either side of his hips. He leans over you, fingers still buried deep, and his palm rests at the base of your throat, dark eyes flashing down at you in the dark.

“Words, Liv.”

You groan, reaching for his wrist, pulling his hand higher up your neck until you can feel his fingers either side of your throat, just enough pressure to make everything in you tighten. He curls the fingers inside you again, your thighs shaking as he does, and he leans down further, takes your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging before letting it snap back.

“Want your cock, Joel,” you nearly whimper out, the pressure and the pleasure and the whiskey in the back of your head getting the better of you. “Please, need to feel you.”

He wastes no time giving you what you ask for.

Faintly, you hear the clatter of his belt hitting the ground, the metallic sound of his zipper, the low grunt as he settles himself over you. Your hands scrabble for bare skin, diving beneath the hem of his t-shirt, scraping at scars and freckles and the dips in his spine as he pushes into you. You both groan together, Joel nipping at your cheek, hot breath fanning your lips.

He’s losing himself in you, you can tell. Even high on the pleasure he’s pulling from you, you can feel it in every thrust, every squeeze of his hands, every touch of his lips. You need to talk, but the only talking he wants right now has nothing to do with the state of your lives. But you can feel the desperation, the need, the want, the lust, the love. You feel it in yourself, too, and you let it take over.

You cum with a cry muffled in Joel’s shoulder, your nails digging into his skin as he pounds you through it. The sound of the box spring scraping the cinderblocks nearly makes you laugh, but his mouth finds yours before you can let the noise out, instead swallowing down his moans as he spills himself deep.

He keeps driving into you, every nerve set on fire, wringing another orgasm out of you that steals what little breath you’ve sucked down. He moans into your mouth when your body clenches down on him, your nails digging in deeper, probably deep enough to draw blood, definitely enough to leave red welts on his shoulders. You’re clinging to him, the weight of him pressing you into the mattress the only thing so solid and comforting that as he settles against you, you think you could fall asleep right then and there, and you nearly do.

You’re faintly aware of him pulling out of you, his fingers trailing between your legs as his spend seeps out, pushing it back in, rubbing his now-wet thumb over your clit over and over. You let out a whine, teetering on the brink of overstimulation, but his mouth covers yours again, soft kisses littered across your lips, corner to corner.

“One more, baby,” he murmurs, his voice a deep rasp, the words almost begged. “Please?”

Joel was quick to give you what you want, and you’re no different, fisting his t-shirt in your hand, your legs spreading as he pushes his fingers into you. The intrusion makes your blood spike, still reeling from the feeling of him, and the combination of your orgasms between your legs only makes his fingers move that much easier, finding all the right places over and over until you’re a babbling mess, thrashing in the sheets as he coaxes a third from you, praise muttered in your ear the whole way through.

In retrospect, you know that he planned it this way. Distract you with sex, make you cum so hard you see literal fucking stars, leave you so spent you’re barely coherent by the end, shoving weakly at his shoulder, your chest heaving and sparks shooting across your vision. After you’ve both cleaned up, dragging yourself to the bathroom on shaky legs, Joel huffing a laugh and you shooting him a glare — you’re exhausted.

By the time you stagger back to the bed, cleaned and clothed, your heart still racing and your breaths still heaved, Joel’s completely asleep, and you just shake your head, sliding onto the bed with him, fitting yourself against him, pulling his arm around your waist before you let yourself drift off as well.

It gets to the point where it’s not even subtle. He’s being painfully obvious about it, obnoxious even. You can barely get a word out, barely manage to make it through the door most days before he’s on you, tugging at your clothes and seeking out your mouth.

The moment your eyes open in the morning, he’s pulling at you, mouth seeking yours, hands caressing your body, waking you up in the best possible way. It doesn’t matter who gets home first; he’s either waiting sat at the kitchen table, leaping to his feet with a grunt the moment you’re through the door, or he’s the one bursting through, kicking the door shut behind him and fucking you on the nearest flat surface. The kitchen table, the counter, the couch, the bed. Joel’s not picky.

It’s a distraction, you know. He’s trying to distract you from getting him to talk about Tommy, about what was said that night, and is distracting himself in the process.

You haven’t seen Tommy since that less-than-pleasant family dinner. From what you’ve gathered from Tess, he hasn’t been at their apartment much, and it’s rare for her to see him between curfews. He’s snuck back in through the window a few times, scaring the living hell out of Tess in the process. She’s tried to pry each time, try to find out where he’s been, but he won’t say a damn word.

Tess tried to talk Tommy out of it when she got back that night, like you’d planned, but got nowhere. You tried to corner him in the stairwell on your way out of the apartment one day, and he bolted like a scared animal before you could get a word out.

He bails on the few smuggling runs you manage to plan in the weeks that follow. He’s awol, in every sense, but it doesn’t leave you short-handed — Tess is always up for a challenge, and knowing Gwen and her crew aren’t an issue anymore gives you a sick sense of safety.

Joel’s a little reluctant to head out of the QZ, easing only slightly when you inform him Tess is game. When you remind him that there’s no possible way you could have a repeat of last time, he relaxes further still, and when you drag your hands through his hair, kissing your way up his throat as you go, murmuring into his skin that it’ll all work out just fine, he’s putty in your hands.

So, nearly three weeks after family dinner, you’re heading out on another run. No drop or meet-ups this time, just an exploration of sorts. There’s a neighbourhood north of the city you hit in the early days of the QZ, when Nick was still keeping all your secrets and looking the other way when you snuck back over the wall. Big houses, cookie-cutter shit lining the streets, you’d managed to pick through a few of the bungalows, but there were bigger homes, near mansions that you have yet to explore. Chances are most of them are picked clean, but your luck has yet to run out.

Joel’s a good ten feet ahead of you, rifle slung across his back. One of the bigger guns in your supply; you don’t have much ammo for it and it was usually Tommy’s, since he was the best shooter of the four of you. Seeing Joel carrying it, you can’t help but wonder if his choice of weapon was purposeful or not. You’re on his right side, hanging back with Tess, the two of you chatting away as you walk the empty roads between the city and the suburb. It’s a weird little blip, the roads lined with cars, ones you remember being parked in the middle of the lanes now pushed out either side, leaving the middle clear.

“They must have cleared it,” Joel calls over his shoulder to you and Tess, inspecting one of the cars, the damage on its side. “Made way for their big trucks and tanks and shit.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Tess jokes, and you have to stifle your laugh at the dry look he gives her.

You continue on, your bat in hand, hefting it over your shoulder as you walk. Tess is talking, recounting her last conversation with Tommy before you’d left. “He still won’t say a goddamn word,” he tells you, and you glance at Joel’s back as she speaks, not missing the way his shoulder bunch slightly and he gets a few more feet ahead of you. “It’s for our own good, apparently.”

It nearly stops you in your tracks. For your own good. The same fucking excuse you’ve been using as reason why you haven’t told Tess about your…condition? It’s for her own good.

“He’s stubborn,” you say, adjusting your grip on the bat. “I told you, I tried to talk to him, but he fucking bolted.”

“Like a scared fucking animal,” Tess agrees, her brow pinching. “He knows this is fucked up, and yet he just doesn’t fucking get it. You know three people and four soldiers died in that Firefly shootout the other day? Innocent people, not fucking freedom fighters. Tommy’s gonna end up dead, or blown to shit.”

You wince, and Tess grabs your arm.

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” you repeat, brushing her off, trying to brush off the chill that crawls up your spine. You swallow hard, jutting your chin towards Joel’s back. “He’s just as bad. I can’t get a goddamn word in with him before he’s pulling my fucking clothes off.” Tess laughs, and you drop your voice low. “He’s literally screwing me into submission.”

She gives you a conspiratorial grin. “Is that really the worst thing?” You sputter out a giggle, clamping your hand over your mouth, and Joel glances over his shoulders at the pair of you, brow slowly rising. It makes you both burst into laughter, and it gets to the point where Joel stops in his tracks, turning back to scold the both of you for being so loud.

“Gonna get us fuckin’ swarmed, the two of you.”

You both whisper apologies, Tess giving a half-assed salute to Joel’s back when he turns around again, and you smack her arm, rolling your eyes. A moment passes before she speaks again, but there’s something different in her expression.

“All his stuff is gone, Liv,” she tells you, and the tone in her voice nearly stops you. “There’s no talking him out of it. The apartment’s half empty, and honestly, the guy could be a pain in the ass sometimes, and he snores like a trucker, but I miss him. It’s weird, being alone. I never was, not since before Nate, and now it’s just…”

“Lonely?”

“Yeah,” she nods, her gaze going a little far off. “It’s too quiet all the time, and knowing what he’s getting involved in, it fucking sucks.”

You swallow around the lump in your throat, shoving your free hand through your hair, nodding in agreement. “It does fucking suck. I mean, our couch is always open, you could come—”

“Move in with you two?” she asks, both brows lifting. “Fucking like bunnies all the time? No thank you.”

You stifle your laugh, sticking your tongue between your teeth. “I’m just saying, door’s always open for you; I hope you know that.”

“I do.”

You snap your fingers, remembering your promise to her what feels like a year ago. Has it been that long? “I still have to set you up with someone,” you offer, and she starts to protest, but you try to wave her off. “I know, I know, no soldiers, and I swear I won’t, you can just—”

“I don’t need you too, Liv,” she says, “I found someone myself, actually.”

“Oh?”

She nods. “Her name is Robin, she lives in the other building, sometimes works the same food bank shifts as us.” Your jaw drops, knowing exactly who she’s referring to, and Tess is laughing as the realization works its way across your face. Letting out a quiet squeal, you punch her arm lightly, bouncing excitedly. Tess is laughing, and you’re giggling, and it feels nice.

Joel shoots you another look over his shoulder, and you both fall silent, covering your mouths with your hands as he turns back. Tess reaches for your arm. “I really like her, Liv,” she says, and you revel in the warmth that spreads through your chest at the sincerity in her tone. “It’s only been maybe a month or two, but she’s…god, I don’t know. She’s great.”

You beam at her. “I’m glad. You should bring her by, next time we have family dinner.”

“Joel’s gonna be outnumbered, you know.”

You wave your hand, flicking your fingers toward his back. “He’ll survive. If she’s important to you, she’s important to us. End of story. Besides, I have a feeling we’re gonna find the good liquor today; Joel can drink his fill and then some.”

Tess just laughs, and you keep on going.

The neighbourhood looks completely different than you remember, not that it shocks you. All the gardens you remember walking through have become overgrown, the cracks in the sidewalks deeper, the cars parked in most of the driveways more rusted. Joel finally falls back into step with you as you enter the cul-de-sacs, his face wary. You heft the bat, giving him a nod, and the corner of his mouth quirks, but that’s all you get.

He’s been stoic as hell, when he’s not distracting you with his hand down your pants and his mouth at your throat. The few times you’ve gone out into the city together, he’s stone-faced, an attack dog looming at your side, shooting daggers at anyone who lets their gaze linger on you longer than he likes.

Thankfully, the neighbourhood is quiet. You poke through the few houses you want to snoop through as a team, making sure they’re clear before you break off, Tess taking one of the smaller places, you and Joel heading for the largest on the block.

Joel decides to take the kitchen first, while you head up the stairs, letting the end of your bat rattle the spokes in the handrail as you go. The house is gaudy as hell, clearly once belonging to people who had more money than they knew what to do with. Everything is in disarray now, the carpets stained with blood and bootprints, the picture frames all askew, the wood flooring cracked in places. But still, somewhere underneath it all, there are remnants of a family, unknown faces that peer back at you from the photographs, poised to perfection in a studio somewhere in the city. You had friends that were photographers, before, friends of Dean’s. Who knows where they are now.

The first bedroom you step into looks like it might have belonged to a teenage boy. The walls are a nice blue, wall-to-wall bookshelves along one side, a seat built into the window ledge, a queen-sized bed that’s been stripped of all its bedding, the mattress now stained with substances you hope only occurred after the outbreak. A computer desk in one corner, the monitor smashed inward, the keyboard shattered on the floor. But on the shelves, something of the room’s inhabitant still remains. Comic books, stacks of them, still intact, catch your eye, along with a soccer trophy that’s been toppled, cracked in one place.

You rifle through the comics, thumbing through the pages. A few of the covers are faintly familiar to you, but one jumps out. Savage Starlight. It’s a little ripped at the edges, clearly well-loved, and there are a few of the same series, what looks like the first four issues.

Stuffing the comics into your bag, you head for the next bedroom. The walls are pink, the twin beds on either side covered with blood, and when you see the gaudy decoration on the wall, your heart leaps into your throat and you back out of the room, yanking the door shut so hard it shakes on its hinges.

Sisters.

The ache never really goes away, not truly. You’ve never really stopped thinking about Anna, not once. Hell, you still remember the last conversation you had, before everything went to shit.

It was your birthday — Joel’s birthday too — when everything that happened, happened. The evening is crystal-clear to this day, the events that unfolded in your apartment that night seared into your memory, and your shoulder. The morning is a little fuzzy now, but you remember your lunch hour at work:

Dean called first, to tell you he pre-ordered dinner, Thai from your favourite spot, and told you to have fun with your friends at happy hour, that he’d be waiting when you got home. He ended the call with a breezy love you, sweetheart! and you still remember the way it had made your heart hurt, just a little. An ache that was eased when Joel called you later, but right after you hung up with Dean, your phone rang again. Anna.

“Helloooooo,” you’d singsonged, phone propped between your head and your shoulder as you moved the bouquet of roses Dean had sent across your desk, trying to get back to your computer so you could actually get some work done once your lunch hour was over.

“Happy birthday, favourite sister!” Anna had shrieked, and you’d winced at her volume, laughing to yourself as you reached for your still half-full coffee cup.

“I’m your only sister,” you reminded her, and she scoffed.

“Shut up. Are you having a good birthday?”

“It’s not bad,” you answered, “as far as twenty-fifth birthdays go. But it’s still early.”

“I was gonna call you this morning,” she said, and in the background, you could hear the bells of the hardware store ring, signalling a customer, “but I thought you and Dean would be celebrating and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

You’d choked on your coffee, spewing it all over your computer screen, and Anna just laughed. “You’re a menace!”

She just laughed harder, and you couldn’t help but giggle along with her, wiping your screen down, checking to make sure you hadn’t spilled any on yourself. The conversation continued; you asked about your parents, the store, tried to not ask too directly if she’d seen Joel around lately. She returned each of your questions, asking after Dean and work and when you were coming home next, and then—

“Liv, I’m moving out.”

“Huh?”

At that point, Anna was only twenty-one. She’d taken a few years off after high school to try and figure out what she wanted to do, but had apparently hit a roadblock when you moved home after college. Not that you minded much, it was always nice to be around your sister more constantly. It felt different, after you moved to Boston. She called more often, and you talked for hours and hours until you could hear your father shouting in the background that she was gonna rack up his phone bill, but he quickly quieted down when she yelled back that she was talking to you.

She hadn’t really changed her ways much since you left, still partying a decent amount and trying to find her match in Austin. You weren’t completely surprised that she was leaving your parents’ house, but something told you it wasn’t a decision she’d made on her own.

“Jack and I decided last week,” she continued, and you held your breath. You met Jack once, the last time you were home for a holiday. You weren’t totally sold, but Anna was enamoured as anything, so you chalked it up to young love. “I told Mom and Dad last night, and they’re not thrilled, but…I have to do this, Liv.” You could hear the waver in her voice; you could feel it in your chest. “I have to get out of Austin now, like you did, or else I’m never gonna leave.”

Like you did.

You knew how she meant it, in that you’re my big sister and I look up to you way, and it made your heart ache in a simultaneously good and bad way.

“Where are you gonna go?” you asked, chewing the inside of your cheek. “Like, do you guys have a plan?”

“Jack said Colorado,” she answered, “but I thought maybe…” She paused, you could hear her sharp inhale. “I thought maybe Boston?”

When you didn’t answer right away, you could hear Anna panic, her words more and more rambling as she kept talking.

“I mean, only if that’s okay with you. I know it’s your city, and your place and you did this big thing and moved across the country, but I just—”

“Anna,” you called, cutting her off. “Of course, it’s okay with me. Having you closer? Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

You talked well past the end of your lunch hour. Anna tried to let you go more than once, but each time you told her no, it was okay, the excitement in her voice made you laugh. By the end of the call, you had an almost-plan. They wouldn’t move to Boston right away, but Anna would come for a visit, spend some good sister-time with you, and then Jack would come up for a weekend. You’d show them around the city, maybe scope out a few potential apartments, check some job listings. It was a start.

“I love you, Livvy,” she said as you said your goodbyes.

“Love you, too.”

And then it was the end.

Joel finds you in the master bedroom, bat on the ground beside you. You’re on all fours, ass in the air, trying to reach something under a chest of drawers. He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest, and waits until you’re safely clear of the wooden edge before letting out a low wolf whistle. “Now there’s a view.”

You glared at him over your shoulder, laughing quietly as you set your findings on top of the drawers, getting to your feet and dusting off your knees. “As if you don’t see it every day.”

“I do,” he replies, and crosses the room to you, adjusting the rifle over his shoulder. As soon as he’s close enough, he presses his front to your back, sliding his arms around your waist, hands curling around your thighs. “S’like I’m seein’ it for the first time, every time.” You laugh again, and he buries his face in your neck, nipping at your skin, tasting the sweat on your skin. “What’re you doin’ up here?”

You sigh, pointing towards the object you’d unearthed from under the drawers. “It’s a jewellery box, I think. Miracle someone didn’t take it.”

“More rings for your collection?”

Your nose wrinkles and you reach for the box, flipping the lid open. You both suck in breaths when you see the contents, more gold than either of you have ever seen in one place before. There are rings, earrings, a necklace with a diamond the size of your thumbnail. Joel picks up the pendant, rubs his thumb over the jewel.

“Fuckin’ crazy, isn’t it,” he grumbles, and you lean back against him, both of you inspecting the bauble, “how none of this shit is worth anything anymore.”

His eyes dip as you reach into your shirt, pinching the chain around your neck until your ring pops out of your collar. “This is worth something to me.”

Joel’s jaw drops, that awful feeling of shoving his foot directly into his mouth making his stomach twist. “Baby, I didn’t me—”

“I know,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “I just…I was trying to find you a ring, okay? None of the ones I have back at the apartment feel right, so I thought maybe there’d be something…” You trail off, stepping out of his grip and shoving your hand through your hair. “It’s fucking morbid, isn’t it? Wearing someone else’s wedding band? But you found me this one, and it’s mine, no one else’s, and I just…” Shaking your head, Joel can see the tears lining your lashes, and he realizes there’s something more going on here, not just the ring.

“Liv,” he says softly, reaching his hand out, moving slowly, tentatively, until he can wrap his fingers around your shoulder. “I don’t need one, baby. I have you, that’s all I care about.”

You tilt your head back, reaching up and wiping at your wet eyes. “Me, and an official FEDRA document stating that I’m legally your problem.”

Joel smiles, a broad grin that he can feel stretching across his mouth before he can stop it. He doesn’t miss the way your face changes as he grins, your brows raising slightly, your eyes going brighter. “Oh, baby,” he chuckles, putting both arms around you, dipping his head so he can nudge your nose with his. “You’ve been my problem since 2001.”

He gives you a soft kiss, but you pull back after a moment, half-hearted anger in your face. “Hey!”

“My favourite problem,” he laughs, and you’re both giggling now, quick kisses traded while you slide your hands up the sides of his shirt, pinching his ribs and making him flinch. “Oh, you’re trouble.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Always have been.”

Joel shakes his head at you and just kisses you again.

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just trying to make sure tumblr doesn’t eat the ending 🍓

#my fics #strawberry wine #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us spoilers #joel miller x oc #joel miller x liv stone

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randomalistic · 7 months

Text

Anyways here’s a rambling infodump thing about all the similarities between Spamton and Turbo and then some. (you should bully me for this)

My fixation on both of them… they feed into eachother.

3 foot tall FREAK !!!!!

THE INSANE SMILER…

Glitchy and pixelated

Full of envy, pent up hatred, DESPERATELY CRAVES REVENGE.

Kinda ugly </3

Or at least. Unconventional!

Used to drive a car when he was popular

I know there’s a difference between being a car spokesman and being a racer but it’s close enough <3 Spamton would not know how to drive a cungadero they just told him to pose in there and smile. Ok Headcanon OVER !!!!

Had it all in the 80s/90s before losing the spotlight

Turbo did his bullshit in 1987 (actual road blasters release year) and Spamton did his bullshit in 1997

Only really known as an unspeakable rumor and lives in infamy

It’s more like everyone “moved on” from Spamton and forgot about him (or at least tried to forget about him…) where with Turbo what he did was so bad that he’s only known for that ONE thing

Goes in hiding for decades

Spamton has his alleyway dumpster, and maybe other areas of cyber city with low traffic. Turbo’s hiding was implied to have been in the depths of game central station until Sugar Rush was plugged in. (Which I think was asked about in an AMA) Both are like. ~30 YEARS of hiding 💀

Would go any length for the same attention again

The interesting thing about this is Turbo DOES win. He does get that attention back by disguising as King Candy and being able to race again, and he keeps it for however long Sugar Rush was around for before the events of the movie. Spamton never gets it back…

But at least Spamton doesn’t get INCINERATED so I’d say he’s better off, even if the best outcome is him becoming an item

Dependent on some kid for his plan to work

Although Spamton’s relationship with Kris (dependent on them helping him) is pretty different than King Candy’s relationship with Vanellope (dependent on her not interfering) I still think it’s funny that they both have beef with children

Later attempted murder of said kid

Quality villains out here not even hesitating to kill kids to get what they want !!!

Imitated/fabricated identity

Spamton imitates Swatch, Turbo fabricates (?) King Candy

Stupid catchphrase

NOW’S YOUR CHANCE TO BE [TurboTastic!]

BOSS BATTLE FORM IS FUCKKKKED

They essentially have the same monologue of “THANKS TO YOU I'M MORE POWERFUL THAN EVER!! But it's not enough... so I'm going to kill you anyways"

I think King Candybug’s Face resembles SNEO in a weird way. Mostly just the big eyes and weird nose and THE SMILERRRRR. They have very similar vibes! I will stop myself now!

Virus/malware adiacent

Turbo literally claims he’s a virus by the end of the movie and Spamton is Spamton

Critically Acclaimed Tumblr Man (and hated)

From my RESEARCH. (Aka. Looking up art of him) Apparently a lot of people on tumblr liked Turbo in 2013. And those people have since become spamton people (perhaps ……) I guess that is me now too. Really unfortunate

Lore ties into a real life video game (Petz & Road Blasters)

In the sweepstakes spamton was kinda confirmed to come from a Petz game. I also didn’t know road blasters was Real until I started looking into it . (TurboTime is fake tho) But there’s a very specific similarity for you. Fucked up characters blurring the lines into real life my beloved

Rivalry/broken friendship with Those similar looking fellas (I’m running out of brain power here)

Spamton had the Addisons, which were like his friends? Fellow advertisers. Looked a bit like him, just taller with different colors. Spamton left them after becoming a big shot because he thought he didn’t need them anymore…

Turbo had the “turbo twins” (the 2 other blue racers in his game) idk if that’s their official name cuz they kinda barely exist in canon.. I think it’s popular fanon that Turbo is shorter than both of them, but that’s actually not true. But I’m still gonna count it. Anyways he KILLED them when he got turbotime unplugged. THEYRE DEAD.

Extreme temperature related death (is this a stretch)

Less of a similarity and more of an interesting contrast

Turbo burns to death when he’s INCINERATED in diet cola mountain. I could ramble about this a lot but. That’s for my second account

And Spamton NEO (in snowgrave at least) is FROZEN SOLID by noelle. He shouldn’t have asked for that ice cream man

Anyways I get similar vibes from those guys..

I hope they explode.

Also thinking more about this is making me realize how similar in concept deltarune and Wreck it Ralph are. As in, those apps and computer programs in the computer lab ? Yeah they’re alive and theres a whole ass cyber city and mansion and theres a ton of little guys living in there! (And same goes for the card kingdom in chapter 1)

Like if there was a dark world created in an arcade, it would probably look something like the WIR world. In a way, lightners would be the “players” because everything the game characters (darkners) do is to serve the players. I’m just saying !!!! These pieces of media are both Really Good!!!

#spamtastic #whatever #long lost #pong post #CAN YOU TELL IM LOSING IT #Long Post #you don’t wanna know how many hours I spent thinking about this!#oops!!!!!#I have work to do!!!#spamton #wreck it Ralph #Turbo wir #turbo #turbo wreck it ralph

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aphrodaisyacs · 9 months

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This might be an odd question, but do you have any tips or preferences when it comes writing Natsuo? Asking for *ahem* reasons...

Ok well I guess like with all fanfic writing I use canon as a jumping point. He’s not exactly a flat character because the few moments he’s given imply a lot of depth, and it’s pretty fun to tease out that depth.

What we know from canon:

Out of all his siblings, Natsuo is the only one who appears to have a “normal” social life. He has a girlfriend who he presumably met during a university class, and he’s implied to prefer hanging out with her and his other friends instead of going back to visit his childhood home (much to Fuyumi’s annoyance lol). Based on his interactions with others he seems to be a sociable and friendly person (when Endeavor isn’t around to sour the mood at least). Personality-wise he also seems to be a confrontational person, in the sense that time and again he doesn’t shy away from uncomfortable conversations or topics- he prefers to air out all the grievances instead of letting them fester.

Currently, he and Fuyumi are the closest out of all the family members. They grew up together and they have the most normal sibling relationship out of everyone (the bar is on the ground tho aljsbd). In the scene where we first see them visiting Rei in the hospital together we also see them bantering and playfully poking at each other and he loves and respects her enough to put up with Endeavor for her sake.

It is no secret that Natsuo despises Endeavor—for being responsible for Touya’s death, for his treatment of Rei and Shouto and most likely also for the way he left Fuyumi as the responsible “adult” in charge of the home. The latter is implied from the way Natsuo spoke about how he tried to help her, ie with the cooking, but he was forced to stop when Endeavor complained about his cooking so it became Fuyumi’s responsibility again.

Then there’s all the trauma surrounding Touya, the way he feels like his brother wouldn’t have had to die (and become a villain) if only he’d listened to him when he needed it and maybe talked him out of some of his more extreme beliefs. It’s implied that he’s studying his current degree (medical welfare I think?) because of Touya, because he wants to help more people like his brother. There’s a lot of (irrational) guilt wrapped up in his feelings about Touya, but as seen in recent chapters he’s willing to put in the work and walk the long and difficult road to mend things between Touya and the rest of the family.

Now onto headcanon territory (most of which are extrapolated from canon):

I think that he has extremely low self esteem, due to the neglect he suffered while growing up. Not just from Endeavor, but from Rei too—here’s some thoughts I’ve already had about this, copy-pasted from the end AN of ch13 in WHFO:

I've always gotten the feeling that she and Natsuo were never particularly close, especially before she was hospitalised. Because he must've been what, 3 when she had to pass him over to be raised by the housekeeper while she completely shifted her focus to Shouto? Not to mention that his physical resemblance to Endeavor would've made it hard for her to even look at him, especially as her mental health spiralled. I just feel like Rei never really got much of a chance to get close to him the way she did with her other children, which is sad because that means Natsuo didn't have much of a relationship with either of his parents when he needed it most during his formative years faksjdlfs that is most definitely not going to have an impact on him at all, nope :)

Expanding on that I think he is also incredibly affection starved, and even as he strives to make a life for himself outside the family a part of him might always find it hard to accept praise or even just the idea that people would genuinely think he’s great to be around or good at things in general. Just you know, general symptoms of someone who had a childhood of emotional neglect.

Because of the whole thing with Rei I also think that he’s hyperaware of how much he physically resembles Endeavor. Does this mean he’s probably insecure about his looks as a result? Yes I do like to think so, especially for the Angst™️. It also doesn’t help that all of his other siblings look like their mum so he’s got that extra dose of feeling like the odd one out.

I also really like the headcanon that he inherited Endeavor’s short temper and general anger issues. Not only because that’s Angst Deluxe, but also because it would be interesting to explore how he grapples with it, and the internal conflict he feels about how scared he is of becoming like his father. This is why I love writing scenes where he’s arguing with his siblings or shouts at them only to watch them flinch because the psychic damage + self-loathing that would follow? Impeccable. Unparalleled. 👌

#asks #laarbybarbtbox #bnha #todoroki natsuo #sorry I just realised how angsty all the hcs are akdhdjdk #I hope you find this helpful anyway

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noobsomeexagerjunk · 1 year

Text

Personal QSMP design hcs and interpretations (PART 1)

1. q!Quackity

ducktaur. predominantly golden yellow feathers and bright orange duck legs

partial heterochromia (dark brown with bits of bluish-grey)

his wear is different depending on which language he is maining at the moment

Eng!Q has an eyebrow scar, calloused hands, and some browning feathers. Wears religious jewelry and warm-colored clothes.

ESP!Q has ear piercings and blue-dyed feathers. Always has a clip-on tie and cool colored clothes.

Post-Tilin death, he either has their ribbon as a necktie (ESP) or belt (ENG)

has a pin of the QSMP logo always on his person

Brushes his feathers before teaching class

2. q!Jaiden

she is the cartoon character reflected by the mc skin, though is nonetheless perceived as human

she magical girl transforms into the vtuber fit whenever she wants to. Most of the time, it's to fight or to protect Bobby

she transforms using a magical brooch that resembles the emblem on her vtuber fit. she can add stuff on the brooch to alter her transformed appearance (like changing the bird wings to butterfly ones, or having a shiny rainbow mode)

she made a smaller, less powerful replica of her brooch for Bobby so he can get into armor much faster

she "draws" things out of her inventory with her fingers in the air (think the spellcasting of the witches in The Owl House, but with different symbols)

When Bobby died, her transformed look takes on a more dark and brooding appearance

3. q!Roier

he's not a spider hybrid but like, an actual Spiderman—literally got bit by a radioactive spider and everything

alternates between his superhero suit and a civilian fit. like jaiden, he transforms between fits superhero style

can fire webs from his hands, has slight spider sense, and also venomous saliva (so i beg of you, do not get head from this man)

wears natural makeup bc he likes to. he darkens it a little when he feels particularly vengeful (this is canon but yk)

the spiderman traits also apply to Melissa, whose dyed lingerie is literally weaved from spider webs

Post-Bobby death, he wears more blacks (both in civilian and superhero fits) and a lot more eyeliner

4. q!Bad

humanoid looking demon. resembles a void-like shadow in extreme emotional states

distinctly has a glowing halo. it has long horns growing out of it + a shadowy demon tail

has his mc skin's hoodie but sleeveless. collared shirts of any color is usually under that + beige khakis, white socks and various sneakers!

His hoodie has a small embroidered symbol of the Order Theoritas, hidden near the collar of the hood

his hair is long and usually tied loosely. wears glasses as well

sharp canines make him look a bit catty

his reaper get-up is well-sewn cursed cloth. wearing the fit makes his halo and tail larger, darker, and more shadowy

there's a block of diamond + an image of skeppy always on his person

He lets Dapper wear the ghost chat bell as a tail accessory

5. q!Spreen

werebear. He turns into a human during sunny daytimes, and is otherwise an anthromorphic bear-man.

black bear, like the mc skin

fashion sense however matches the CC; generally street-looking even with the bulk of armor

canines and claws glow when he's fighting someone in bear mode. he grows them out fighting during his human state

smells like cigarettes

6. q!Slime

a player equivalent to minecraft slime

prefers taking on a humanoid appearance, and has taken it long enough to master recolorization of said state. feels uncomfortable taking any other form as well

experiences pain when shifting (i mean that's also canon but yk)

behaves like a magma cube in extreme negative emotional states. will resemble one if you piss him off enough

he has no actual clothes, he shapeshifts the appearance of clothing. (q!Mariana has noticed, and he doesn't like to think too hard about it) his most external layer is armor and glasses.

he and q!Mariana have each a piece of Juanaflippa's shell on their person

7. q!Cellbit

human. well, not completely according to genetics but is more or less perceived as one.

The CC but wearing the blockman-cubito's fits

wears eyeliner to hide the eyebags. This doesnt work and only makes his eyes more expressive

a shadow looms the upper half of his face whenever he's being super weird and mysterious. It darkens when he's consciously about to do something really bad in a dramatic anime way; this is much more emphasized if he puts on his goggles

he paints his nails and the paint always trails. these glow sailor moon style when he comes into contact with the blood of any living creature

has a caffeine addiction

The chainsaw scars are deep enough that Cellbit doesn't like looking at himself when changing; he forces it though to remember why he's doing anything at all

Taught Richas how to draw the symbol for the Ordo Theoritas. He also has the symbol pressed into the leather of his gloves

8. q!Wilbur

humanoid man of unidentified species. perceived as human.

really is human looking, minus the pointy ears and prismatic irises

wears clear glasses. yellow sweater + sleeveless brown longcoat + grey jeans + black boots

has a black scarf and red beanie both made of wool and embroidered with gold threaded flowers.

always has a guitar on his person. since tallulah entered his life, he's let her put stickers and draw all over it.

They jam together when they can

may or may not have an enchanted singing voice

part 2

#qsmp #qsmp headcanons

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childotkw · 10 months

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In the eyes of Tomarry fans, what potential does the relationship between Tom Riddle and Harry Potter have, and how can it impact the story? Which shared qualities or conflicts can enrich this relationship, and what kind of emotional developments can form the foundation of this imaginary connection? Additionally, in this alternative scenario, how might Tomarry's friendship dynamics and interactions with other characters at Hogwarts change?

I think for a lot of fans it can boil down to the parallels between Tom Riddle and Harry Potter. It's pointed out a lot in canon, even by Tom himself, that he and Harry are pretty similar. Those similarities open a pathway to understanding - which is important. The fact that these two enemies intrinsically know each other.

There's an element of 'soulmates' to them, an inevitability, that in no world would those two not be drawn to each other. There's endless potential between them, which is evident in how many AUs for them can use precisely the same tropes and yet each one is unique and intriguing - as if it's the first time you're reading it.

As for 'how can it impact the story' - their canon relationship is literally the driving force behind the entire plot of the series. The sheer multitudes to their interactions, to their dynamic, to their personalities, means that the impact they'd have is impossible to calculate. They are the two most important figures, opposites, so any decision they make in regards to each other can change the entire plot of the story.

Going into their shared qualities would take hours - all I can say is that they are both narrative foils and parallels. Tom is the what-could-be to Harry. A possible future of who - what - he could become. Their natural conflict arises from the sides they're on, and it provides the tension that a lot of people find compelling to explore. Enemies-to-lovers is a very popular trope for a reason.

It makes for exciting reading.

I wouldn't say their connection is imaginary either. I've already mentioned their innate understanding - their childhoods scarily resemble each other, which is an instant emotional connection. Empathy and sympathy are powerful things. Every time Tom and Harry interact, it's a growth moment. They challenge each other, push each other, are obsessed with each other, could make each other better or worse depending on their situations.

From a purely friendship view - if Tom and Harry had grown up together, I sincerely believe they would have been unstoppable.

Tom would have learnt temperance and restraint from Harry, would have understood the importance of compassion (even if it's purely to manipulate people into doing what you want). Tom would have changed the the world without ruining it if he'd had Harry at his side.

Likewise, Harry would have learnt to be more confident, more in control and more commanding with Tom acting as an example. He would have questioned himself less, and been far harder to manipulate.

If they had gone to Hogwarts together, been friends, Tom would have had an emotional support pillar that would act as the wind under his sails. His need to conquer Slytherin for his own safety and desires would have been less, though his need to prove himself would likely still be there. Harry would also not feel like he had to carry everything on his own shoulders. He'd rely on Tom, he'd trust him, he'd go to him with his issues, and that would make him far more relaxed and less likely to blow up at the drop of a hat.

They'd be a bit insular, a very us-against-the-world mentality, but they'd also be compelling and interesting enough to gain a following.

#anonymous #HP #harry potter #tom riddle #tomarry

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birchbow · 5 months

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Gamzee often refers to himself as “pan-rotted” due to his sopor-eating habit as a wriggler (and so does pretty much everyone else at some point). He told Kurloz that he has to really focus in order to remember mission instructions a few chapters back, I think? Gamzee doesn’t have a great self image, but it seems true that he’s often slow to draw inferences unless he’s already paying attention for hints about something specific. Like his default awareness is a little more diffuse, and he has to put in deliberate effort to narrow it down on a particular problem? He attributes this to the sopor, and so does everyone else. What I’m asking is - sopor aside - does being neglected by a lusus affect a troll’s brain development? (Beyond emotional stability and the ability to form secure attachments, ouch.) Since lusii don’t talk I’m not sure about language acquisition but maybe lusii respond positively to grubs babbling? Sidenote: the fact that Gamzee has the scriptures memorized so well almost feels like his chronically understimulated pan grabbed these abundant in-person interactions with authority figures in his early schoolfeeds and ate it up like starving. Sorry this is so rambling 😅

I'm incapable of being brief, especially when I get long asks with lots to chew over, so here's a readmore!

SO There's a moment in canon where Gamzee outright says "[sopor] rots you. Rusts your motherfucking thinkpan." and I think it's up for debate to what extent that's true but also it does seem pretty reasonable that heavy/consistent drug use throughout your adolescence would leave you some cognitive issues!

(Although also, as a person who tests super well in things I intuitively Get and am interested in, but often feels slow and dull, can't fit certain subjects/concepts into my head, and has a hard time remembering all the steps of things I want to do,,,, I put a lot of myself into my characters, is what I'm saying lol.)

RE: not having a lusus, I think that probably would have way more effect than the kid who went through it would assume, yeah. Like, all trolls would know your lusus keeps you safe from predators/intruders, gives you early practice fighting/wrestling, and especially in more rural areas, scavenges and hunts for you especially when you're young. But trolls as a society definitely undervalue the part where they also provide a sense of security and affection, because you're not supposed to want or value those things as a troll!

It's hard to make direct connections since lusii only sort of resemble human parents, but there's certainly studies to show that children of neglectful human parents struggle forming the cognitive pathways they would otherwise establish, and have trouble later in life--even if your caretaker doesn't talk, it seems pretty reasonable to me that having a parental figure who fucks off for long periods of time and leaves you completely alone with no idea when they'll be back would have a pretty similar effect across species! I'm not well-educated enough on that topic to draw the parallels I would want to, but it feels like a solid theory.

Also, quite apart from any of that, there was definitely a chain of cause and effect from "dad doesn't want me and there's no food" to "...but I have sopor slime" to "this makes me less hungry and also I give less of a shit about how hungry and lonely I am" to "if I stop eating this I feel shitty and have a hard time thinking straight and there's like a decade of repressed emotions under there".

RE: scripture, one of the things that I see original-flavor/canon Gamzee do is be all in on his religion, and when that falls out from under him, reorient to the first convincing power he finds, which unfortunately for everybody is the whole mess of Doc Scratch/Li'l Cal/Lord English. It to me feels very much like a guy who has no idea how to make his own ideological support structure, and is desperately looking for someone to give him a belief system and set of rules to follow.

ANYWAY SO hopefully it's fairly clear how that carries forward in a universe where instead, he gets a supportive church that helps him sober up and channels all his deeply-repressed rage into "hey, those aliens over there need conquering, go kill em", and also he's offered these books that are like. The rules. And knowing them gets him approval, and reassures him when he feels like a fuckup, and it turns out he can learn things, if they're things that fit in his brain right, and that's reassuring because he genuinely thinks most of his failings are his own fault for wanting sopor, and Alternian addiction support boils down to "do that again and we'll cull you" so they sure the fuck don't have a compassionate attitude about recovery or good information into after-effects, so everybody else is also just like "yeah, probably you fucked up your brain, idk, git gud".

This is a very lengthy way of agreeing with you lmao. The feedback loop of "oh you're pretty good at this" from authority figures, and it being a topic that he naturally had an interest in, definitely is a big part of why he's so deeply into it.

#ask time!#price of forgiveness #gamzee makara #i don't usually tag canon characters but also this became more of a character ramble than actually about the fic so #gamzee: gets a new faith #gamzee: immediately goes ALL THE FUCK IN #hey yknow when you have a religious crisis so you get a new one raise the dark destructive savior #and then drag your mutilated immortal body through the desert to serve him while he repeatedly kills you for fun #just normal church things that normal people with normal levels of devotion do :o)

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monochromaticblue · 5 months

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Today I bring you, shuake spiderverse au

Tomorrow? Who knows.

Adding a break bc I’m going to RAMBLE

Ren is the one who gets bit by the spider obv

Have yet to decide on a name for him, Joker doesn’t feel spidery enough and Phantom Spider seems too on the nose but.

Goro is a detective working on hunting down said spider person, who keeps flirting with him.

Ren was a former member of spider society before quitting bc Miguel sucks. But he did make some friends in the form of his pre-existing friends from other universes who are spider people too.

That sounded rlly confusing hang on.

The PTs in Rens universe all help him out behind the scenes but then there’s also universes where each of them is the spider in that universe, so Ren has two sets of friends who are the same people. One of the Futabas made an app that lets them travel between dimensions without alerting spider society.

I have ideas to make each of the palace people (-Futaba probably) a big villain that Ren has to face all while dodging the really pretty detective who wants to arrest him.

Until Ren isn’t the only spider in his own dimension. Enter Akechi once again, now working alongside Ren as his own maybe spider themed alter ego that I also haven’t named…

except he wasn’t bit by a radioactive spider, his suit is entirely tech made to mimic Rens abilities (Goros ass cannot do whatever a spider can) featuring a very fun little ai named Robin Hood who keeps commented on Goro’s elevated heart rate when he looks at Ren. Wonder why.

The two continue to work together alongside the other spider thieves up until Ren and Goro wind up on a mission alone together in a lab, the very same lab Rens spider came from, where everything goes wrong, they get separated for a bit but manage to make it out in once piece.

Goro starts acting different after this though, becoming more snappy and never seeming to be available, always spacing out too. Also, there’s a new terror said to be attacking people at night, leaving its victims without heads. (If you can guess where this is going ily)

Ren, worried about his partner in stopping crime, goes to visit Goros apartment one night only to find it entirely a mess, unfortunately he can’t stay for long since there’s screaming down the street. Upon investigating, Ren comes face to face with the very creature he was hoping he wouldn’t have to see.

A thing a whole foot taller than him with a black and white striped body that almost resembled his suit in a way. Ren honestly would have thought it was a suit if not for the giant fucking mouth full of teeth and the horns. After promptly beating the shit out of Ren, the creature proudly announces itself as Loki.

Haven’t exactly figured out how the reveal happens yet but I do very much enjoy the idea of Goro having his own version of the iconic “we are venom” scene from the movie.

But basically Goro joining up with Loki was always the plan. His reasoning for teaming up with Ren is the same as in the game and he yeaa he’s been working with Shido, the mayor, this entire time :D the lab was entirely planned aswell. What wasn’t planned was how much of an impact Loki would have on Goros mental state, but he’s fine. Totally.

Blah blah shit happens, Shido becomes a major threat and Goro finally teams up with the Inter-Dimensional Spider Team for real to help take him down. Things don’t go according to plan, there’s a lot of fire, Goro can’t use Loki and Ren fails to save him! Tada! Canon event!!! *cue Miguel’s theme or whatever*

I want to include third semester because I think it would be cool but I just. Can’t think of how to make it work. But it would result in Goro coming back and finally learning how to get along with Loki.

This has been haunting my mind for weeks every since my friend sent me a design of spider Akiren.

Alsooo since there’s an alternate universe where each of the thieves got spider powers

This also means there’s a universe where it’s Goro.

Why have I strictly been using Ren this entire time? Because Akira is the one in Spider Goro’s world, with his symbiot Arsene

He’s uh. A little fucked up.

Thank you for listening to the deranged ramblings of a mad man, see you next millennium

#persona 5 #persona 5 royal #persona 5 au #goro akechi #ren amamiya #p5 #p5 au #joker p5 #akira kurusu #spiderverse #spiderverse au #venomkechi is something I have seen no one do #and I think we as a community need to talk about it more #Lokis equivalent to chocolate is pancakes btw #shuake #akeshu

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vanyzvat · 11 months

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Anti x Reader

Chapter 1: No Strings Attached (You are here!)

Chapter 2: His Name

Chapter 3: Jacksepticeye

Chapter 4: Chase Brody

Jack STILL exists as a character in this fanfic, even though he is NOT canon anymore. This fanfic follows OLD lore.

Summary: Reader is a YouTuber who has lost everything (How and why is somewhat up for interpretation). As a result, they have lost their sense of fear entirely, and do not seem to care about consequences anymore.

Now, they spend their days making videos "debunking and exposing IRIS", taking advantage of their negative reputation.

They've been affected by ALTR 114209 for quite some time now, but due to their "condition", they seem to be holding up just fine.

After forming a sort of "bond" with ALTR 114209 itself, the supernatural being trusts them enough to get a bit more personal with them.

A lot of things are based off personal headcanons and my own interpretation of these characters! Please keep that in mind. I apologize in advance for any errors! Please let me know if there are any so I can fix them.

You were not meant to be alive today. Not according to whatever IRIS was saying, atleast. Overexposure to the "ALTR 114209" not only put you in danger, but those around you, too.

But you paid it no mind.

After all, you were someone who had already lost everything.

And while that may sound pessimistic to anyone who didn't know you, you didn't see it that way. It was a fact which you had accepted.

A lonely life was what you lived, but it was more fulfilling than being surrounded by people who only held you back.

As of now, you didn't care about your fate.

You lived your life peacefully, content with whatever route it took. If something "bad" happened, you just rolled with it, and in return, nothing seemed to ever bother you.

Worrying about the outcomes, the consequences of your actions, the future... It was all nothing but a headache to you.

That made him curious.

And just like that, you became a target to him.

"Him", who you only called as such due to his appearance.

Clearly, he was no ordinary human. He probably wasn't human at all.

He was able to warp reality itself to his will. To him, this world was nothing more than a game of puppets, and he was the puppet master.

Still, you saw some resemblance- Signs of humanity within him.

But you didn't even know if he had a proper name yet...

He treated you like all the other ones at first. Just another puppet of his, made to entertain him after he broke his last one.

That's what you assumed, anyway.

But you didn't react- Not in the way he wanted you to.

The whispers, the images he flashed in your eyes- They didn't scare you. You had seen them time and time again.

Instead, they only slightly inconvenienced you when you were trying to do your everyday tasks...

To you, he came off as desperate.

To him, you were infuriating.

He seemed willing to go to every length to be satisfied, to finally get the reaction he wanted out of you, and you took it as a personal goal to not give him that.

You were thankful to not have a job that required you to actually leave your home, otherwise, the task of having to constantly explain your "condition" to everyone you come across would get annoying.

You figured that those living near you were most likely affected by ALTR 114209 too, but... You honestly couldn't care less.

You didn't know them, and they didn't know you. It's their problem, not yours. You've stopped feeling remorse over your "selfish decisions" and thinking, and maybe that was why you were truly free.

...The more you talked to him, the closer the two of you seemed to become.

That didn't mean it didn't take any effort, though. It took you many tries to finally get him to even respond to you.

After hearing him whisper unimportant nonsense in your ears and catching glimpses of him at the corner of your eyes for so long, you decided to try to approach him.

And you did, with all the friendliness you had within you, in hopes of getting something in return.

At first, he would stand completely still, unmoving until he faded into obscurity.

After that, he would only eye you up and down, then tilt his head to the side, almost out of intrigue.

And after that, he would violently snap his neck while giving you the widest of smiles.

To you, that just proved his desperation.

Was he really so lonely, that he would do so much for one person? It was kind of... Humiliating.

That reaction from you was definitely not what he was hoping to achieve with that. Weirdly enough, you could even go as far as to say you found his attempts endearing.

Bold of him to assume something wasn't already wrong with you, when nothing he was doing worked. You weren't normal, you were a "weird little freak" as he would put it.

...He had considered giving up on you multiple times. You gave little to no reactions, you almost instantly moved on from anything he threw at you, and you even tried communicating with him.

Who does that?

You were just a waste of his time.

But when he tried to give up on you, he... Found himself unable to. He'd grown attached to you.

And as much as he hated himself for that, he thought of an alternative solution. He gave up on trying to "put his strings on you", but he didn't give up on you entirely.

You had become his "safe space", in a way.

You had given him a place where he could go to whenever he needed to hide, and whenever he felt like being treated like a guest.

A puppet master does need to rest his hands if he wants to control his puppets properly, that was his excuse.

...Back to you.

Today, you were sitting in your work desk, surrounded by your monitors. Your editing program was open on your main screen, with you being busy cutting up some footage for your next upload.

Your channel was a controversial one, and rightfully so. You've made multiple videos on IRIS, and why they are "not to be trusted".

You were a bit biased, considering your one and only friend was the one thing they were trying to get rid of.

It was kind of surprising they hadn't sent people to kidnap you in your sleep yet...

Maybe they did try to, but were unsuccessful, for... Whatever reason.

Maybe it was because you were one of the few people who were smart enough to not install those WTCHR cameras within their homes.

You lifted the coffee mug off your desk and connected it to your lips, taking a long sip.

You were about to set it back down when suddenly, an odd image flashed brightly infront of you.

The image was clearly of an event you had experienced before, only now something was... Off.

Your vision was blurry, and you blinked frantically in an attempt to bring it back to how it was before.

You felt your head grow heavy, a horrible migraine taking over you...

That was all you needed to know that he was here, or just nearby.

You somehow forgot about your awful migraine in almost an instant, and were instead comforted by the thought of getting to talk to him again.

“Where are you?” You asked, trying to maintain yourself and your excitement.

In response, there were the faint sounds of laughter in the distance.

“I̵ am ͝he͝re,” He whispered right in your left ear.

You could feel the temperature of the room declining rapidly due to his presence...

“I͞ ām t̡herê,” He then whispered into your right ear.

You see two hands covering your vision. Despite knowing he was playful, that still managed catch you off-guard.

“I'͜m͝ ͝eve̢ryw͢h̸e̴r͜e͏.” He spoke once more, his voice now from behind you. He moved around so quickly, it was hard to keep up...

“Yes, yes, I know.” You took his hands off your face, and they fell back to his sides.

“You'̨ve bee̕n͜ w̡orking. Working sò, ̷s̛o ha͡rd... W̴h̶y ̴not͟ ̡take a ͜brȩa̕k to s͝pend ͘s̸o͏me ̸time ̨with m̵ę?”

You sighed...

Of course you favoured being with him over doing work, so you pushed your chair back with your legs, and sat up so you could take a look at him.

“And why should I do that?”

“Bec͟aús͝e I͜'͟m ͏t͏he o̴n̴l̀y ͢pe̢rso͜n in you͠r͟ ́l̀i͜fe̷.” He shot at you.

“You're not even a person.” You shot back, and that earned a laugh from him.

...You always found yourself trying to make him laugh, and wondered if he could tell. He most likely could.

“Yo̵ur ͡w̧o̡r̢d̢s ͡c̀ut̶ ̨d͡e̷ep!”

“N͞o͠w- L̛et̶'s̶ go ̢someẁh͜ere̛ ͟more... Com̨for͏tab͠l͜é, yeah?”

Before you could even say anything, you weren't inside your recording room anymore, but in the living room.

You still needed some time to get used to him doing that- Teleporting you around. Even so, you plopped down on your couch, and he sat besides you.

“Oh, I forgot to ask. Do you want anything?”

“No. ͜Ju̴st ̵yo͡u.̷”

“Ah... So, why have you decided to visit?”

He crossed his legs, then placed his hand on top of his knee, which you can see him digging his nails into.

“Í'̸m͢ ̕just̨ ̛a̴ bi̧t... L̕o̕ǹèly.”

“A̛n̷d͞ upsȩt.”

He gritted his teeth through those last few words, making him come off as way more condescending than he was probably intending...

Or maybe he did that on purpose, so he could somehow feel less like prey accepting its fate against a predator.

You couldn't help but roll your damn eyes. It was ridiculous for him to feel like he had to continuously act this way. It was like he was paranoid that eyes were on him at all times, and he would be completely ruined if he let his guard down.

Still- Being so honest was unusual of him, since he never really bothered talking about how he felt. It was always about his accomplishments, his doings, what he had been up to. He was always so proud and full of himself whenever he talked.

“Well, I need a break anyway, like you said. So I'll be available for a bit. What's wrong?”

There was silence.

You shot glances at him, noticing how he breathed slowly, as if he was contemplating something. He seemed stressed.

...And suddenly, you got a nosebleed.

Because of course you did.

You only noticed it had even happened after a drop of blood fell on your shirt.

“Jesus christ-”

As you quickly got up, you noticed the shocked expression on his face. Did he not mean to do that? You made a mental note while making a run for the bathroom.

After you managed to get your nosebleed to stop, you went back to your room to change into a new shirt before going back to him.

He was still waiting for you in the living room, having not moved an inch.

“Hey,”

You spoke, your voice sounding tired. You were tired.

He glanced up at you, then quickly glanced away again. He refused to lift his head to properly look at you. Was he ashamed about what just happened?

“Sòr͞r̴y.͞”

“No, it's okay. I was just a bit... I don't know- Surprised? I thought you gave people nosebleeds and whatnot on purpose.”

He chuckled.

“S͏ome͘t̶i͏me̢s̀.”

You sat down besides him again.

“...Let's try this one more time then.”

You went straight to the point, and his smile faded. He was the one who had told you something was up in the first place, why would he be trying to avoid it now?

“What's wrong?”

You asked, and he answered your question with a question of his own. A question you would've never expected to come from someone like him...

“Ha͟ve͟ ̶you e̕v̧e̡r͘... Be̷e͘n ͡be͟tr͏a̢y̴ed̛?”

#jacksepticegos #jse anti #jse fandom #jacksepticeye egos #jacksepticeye #antisepticeye #antisepticeye x reader #ego x reader #Anti is sympathetic in this #reader is kind of an asshole lol ngl #the LOOOORE!!!

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celestialholz · 1 year

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Treasures, Ruined (or 'Are the Elite Four the Treasures of Ruin?')

My fellow thought-experimentee @serene-hatterene mentioned a little while ago that the Treasures of Ruin bear a passing resemblance to our Paldean Elite Four, and I agree... though I don't think it means a heel turn is coming. None of them are evil - there's been literally zero foreshadowing of any form, and I personally refuse to believe that there is a single shred of evil in Hassel specifically. This man is sunshine incarnate - he even goddamn looks like the sun, and is painted as such in Surrendering Sunflora.

No, no evil here. But I'll tell you what I do think.

The Treasures of Ruin are the Elite Four if they were to go down a very different and much darker path, hence the Dark typing.

That's a fun statement, isn't it? Allow me to explain...

We will start in dex order, with Wo-Chien, our Hassel counterpart.

This is most of Wo-Chien's lore.

Now, there are multiple things of note here:

Tablets were classically used pre-paper manufacturing to write or draw things upon - like a musician might wish to do, or an artist;

Hassel comes from a noble family, who don't agree with his life choices - whilst he doesn't seem to bear grudges in his present state of mind, it isn't a stretch at all to imagine that he could were his mind dark enough;

Plants. Wo-Chien drains plant life, and holds control over it.

... Now, imagine if you will a moment, a darker timeline: a timeline where, embittered by his family's treatment and his own musical failure, Hassel finds Brassius, and instead of healing and supporting and encouraging him as he does in our canon, leading them to a beautiful and loving companionship, he instead does the opposite: takes out his spite and his anger, leads Brassius instead to ruin and to the death he saved him from in another life.

... No, you're crying. (/j, I am also weeping, god I hate noticing things sometimes. IT'S OKAY GUYS THEY'RE HAPPY AND LOVED AND ALIVE IN OUR WORLD *ugly sobbing*)

This idea is backed up further by the fact that Wo-Chien's shrine must be opened via purple stakes - Poison, seeping into the Grass.

Oh, and as Bulbapedia points out:

... Huh. Imagine that, the emotional guy darkened due to his own feelings - or, indeed, that of our favourite Grass gym leader...

And then there's the fact that Hass' lead Pokemon Noivern nearly always starts battle by halving your HP with Super Fang... which has exactly the same effect as Ruination, the Treasures' signature move.

Anyway, let's move on, before I sob myself to sleep...

We arrive next at Chien-Pao, or our Larry counterpart.

Lore incoming...

Whilst Wo-Chien is represented by grudges, Chien-Pao is represented by hatred - and we know Larry a. hates his boss, b. hates his three jobs, and c. probably hates his life, as tired and done as he seems to be.

And so, imagine a world where that hatred, rather than be channeled into exhaustion and exasperation, becomes instead active - becomes instead a very powerful man who can apparently master types on a whim tearing down all before him, telling the world that's kept him down to bow before him. He becomes the boss; he becomes the hatred of those 'slain' by the corporate structure, and he simply sits there and watches the chaos.

Now, lovely little tired sweetheart Larry would rather eat onigiri, tell you you're very good at battling and go to sleep... but then, Hass would never drain Brassius either. It's all in the possibility, the alternate universe.

Interesting supplementary points here include:

Staraptor has the same base attack as Chien-Pao... who, like the rest of the Treasures, was patch-nerfed. It did have 130 atk, ten points higher than Staraptor;

It's represented by orange stakes, the colour of the Fighting type - Larry's one major weakness on his gym team, which later he adopts Flying types for and becomes strong against;

This man is a facade. He gives you the TM for it, he lives the gimmick... and when one tears down a facade, the person beneath is revealed. Not that I'm saying the person beneath wants to watch the world burn, but... not too tricky to imagine someone snapping under Larry's level of pressure, is it?

What's mightier than the sword, so the saying goes? The pen. You know, those things people use a lot in an office...

God, let's see if Rika can cheer us up a bit, although I doubt it given the topic... we move, then, to Ting-Lu.

The lore has this to say on the subject of Ting-Lu:

Ting-Lu represents fear: and if any of you have also sat there like me in fear for your champion prospects (and possibly life) as Rika stares you down during the interview process, I think we know why.

Fear... and control over the earth. The translation is a little more literal here, given that they share their specialist types.

Our Rika is fun and laid-back, but in another world, well... imagine a woman motivated by the fear of those before her, intimidating all who stand before her in both words and in battle, swallowing her enemies with the power of the earth. As a fun counterpoint, the Rika we know and love even says that you shouldn't find her worrying when you meet her during your gym challenge:

Couple of additional things:

Ting-Lu's stakes are green - Grass, life, swallowed whole by the ground;

Rika's rocking the classically evil red eyes;

Most of her Pokemon have the capacity to learn Fissure, which is referenced in Ting-Lu's bio.

We know comparatively little about Rika compared to Hassel or Larry, but the type-share kinda says it all here.

And finally, we reach everyone's favourite overachieving tiny sister, Poppy.

Here's some lore for y'all:

Now again, in comparison to Hassel and Larry, we know next to nothing about Poppy, but envy specifically is interesting. The kid is very clearly far too powerful for her age, and it's therefore quite simple to imagine envy-based corruption occurring - of her dominating her peers, of her envy that everyone else seems to fit in where she doesn't. Thankfully in the Elite Four she's amongst friends, but... the composition of this team, jesus. Take a look:

Kid is made of nuclear weapons, my god. The young mind is impressionable, easy to lead astray... except she's all fine and adorable, because she has structure, and an outlet for her power. Without that... well, Chi-Yu's on fire, so... I think this about sums it up.

Little bit more on the intrigue:

Mmm. Lighter. Well yeah, she would be...

There's a saying in gemology, or the sculpting of gems, about jade - what Chi-Yu's bead eyes are made of. And it goes like this:

... Like a bell? Like that one she has on her team?

Chi-Yu is represented by blue stakes, or the Water type; the tears of a lost little girl, her fieriness extinguished.

So, now we've analysed the similarities of the characters, let's take a look at the story of the Treasures.

'The king's greed', huh...

... Huh. Geeta, who owns a Kingambit, who is the Top Champion. Now, aside from Larry, who seems to just straight-up dislike her, we don't know how the other three feel about their 'king' here - but we do know from the gym leader rematches that multiple of those guys aren't fans of her hardline stance. She and Tulip style-clash, Katy resents her for having her go easy on challengers, and Grusha seems afraid of her power to oust him. She seems to be a divisive woman, and... well, it's irrelevant, because we're here to imagine an alternate universe, friends. In another life, Geeta greedily overworks her people, taking the desire she has to host the greatest League and turning it dark; in another life, grudges, hates, fears and envies lead to a world of destruction and rebellion instead of a united found family. What is a king there is a queen here, and what would our queen be able to do, if she was attacked by all four of her treasures at once? Very little.

Four treasures, one king, two worlds. We even have the people to 'seal them away' - us, Nemona, Penny, Arven, and all the rematch gym leaders, who at that point outlevel the Elite Four. After all, if the shoe fits... two of us have already have taken down all four of them.

Let's all be glad we live in the good timeline, folks, where our Elite Four are loved and wholesome.

... It's fascinating isn't it, that we've pulled up these stakes up, crumbled them to dust... released the Poison, the Fighting, the Grass, the Water... that we've all seeped toxicity into the earth, lost the fight, had the life sucked away, and doused youthful enthusiasm.

... Nah, can't mean anything. Can't mean anything that we're the wielders who have already defeated them. Can't mean anything that Geeta's name in Japanese is 'omodaka', which directly translates to 'heightened surface', like the high places you nearly always find these stakes on.

... Nah, guys. Just a coincidence. They're all perfectly lovely... in our world. Still, quite the AU, right? ;)

#paldea elite four #elite four larry #elite four hassel #elite four poppy #elite four rika #oh and look at that!#ephemeralartshipping!#in my completely NOT ephemeralartshipping meta!#I'm astonished guys don't know about you #treasures of ruin #pokemon scarlet and violet #meta #top champion geeta

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lucky-clover-gazette · 11 months

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The Big Picture

The Four Swords manga, adapted/retold using both canon and additional scenes, with a focus on Vio and Shadow's individual characters and ambiguous relationship.

Prologue: Evil Interview

He gains sentience inside an elevator.

He is a cloud of charcoal-colored smoke, taking solid form as the world moves beneath his feet. Feet—he has feet. He has legs. He has a torso. He has a chest, and a heart that beats within it... oh, that might become a problem.

Read the rest on ao3 or under the cut:

JANUARY

He gains sentience inside an elevator.

The top floor. He’s going to the top floor. It’s the only floor, the only button, lit up blood-red on the metal panel. Machinery churns as he’s lifted upwards, his pointed ears twitching at the unpleasant sound.

A body, a face, and a brain. Eyes, a nose. Hair—not blonde, he much prefers purple. A black tunic and hat like a gnarled phantom limb. It sways nervously behind him as the doors slide open.

The office lobby is dimly-lit, its sole window revealing an even darker landscape. A mountain range is silhouetted in the distance, the land beneath it peppered with dense forests and eerily glowing lakes. Over the trees he spots monstrous figures—dragons, he somehow knows—patrolling the air. It feels unlike daytime or nighttime (not that he's seen either), too unsettling to be calm but too calm to be unsettling.

He knows things, he's realizing, as the elevator doors close behind him. He is a new creation, yet he knows the difference between day and night.

He must have been here before. Not here, as in this lobby, but alive—knowledgeable about the world and his role within it. But that part of himself, the part that isn’t new, the part that simply understands how to exist… he can't fully access it. Not in a way that matters. Smoke still licking at his heels, he feels like an echo, a ghost, a—

“Shadow,” The hinox office receptionist scrutinizes him with one narrowed eye. “Shadow Link.”

He points to himself with a sharp-nailed finger. “Who, me?”

The receptionist sighs and points towards a wooden door. “They’re waiting for you in there.”

─────────────────

‘In there’ is a cavernous conference room, devoid of windows or overhead lights. He—Shadow Link—supposes he belongs in a place like this, illuminated only by tall pillar candles dripping wax onto the linoleum floor. The table in the center of the room could hypothetically seat about thirty people of his size, but only currently seats one. Shadow Link stares into the darkness beyond the candlelight’s reach, barely identifying a form at the table’s opposite end.

From what he can see, the form does not even remotely resemble his own. It has a circular body and several wings, an odd crescent shape on its head like a crown. Its stillness unnerves him, as does its silence. It’s only his best guess that he should take a seat at his own end of the table.

Once comfortable (enough), Shadow Link clears his throat. “Uh… hello?”

A large glowing eyeball opens in the distance, startling him to roll backward in his chair. Sheepishly, he scoots himself back into place.

“Shadow Link,” a voice says, reedy and dry with unmasked impatience. “I am sure you’re aware of why you’ve been brought here today.”

Not at all, he thinks, and wonders if he’s the kind of person who admits his own ignorance like a fool. Given that sentiment, he quickly decides he is not.

“Of course,” he says, clasping his hands on the table.

“I see,” says the giant eyeball, and Shadow Link actually finds that kind of funny, because it (he?) is literally a giant eyeball. “And you are smiling because…?”

Shadow Link stops smiling. It’s not that funny.

“I am impressed that you already understand your purpose, Shadow Link,” says a distinctly different voice. It’s deep and low, sourced from no particular direction but somehow filling the entire room. For some reason, Shadow Link knows he’s heard it before.

“Yeeeeaaah,” he says, his bravado quickly fading. “But I mean… you should probably still say why you think I’m here. Just to make sure we’re on the same page.”

This provokes a loud slam, like a fist on a desk. “You dare question me—Lord Ganon, King of Evil, and your very creator?”

Shadow Link winces. “Uh. Noooo?”

“Respectfully, Lord Ganon,” says the disrespectful eyeball, “this interview charade seems like an unwise use of our time. Did you not bring the applicant into existence to assume this exact position?”

“I did,” answers Lord Ganon, and Shadow Link feels the weight of those words on his shoulders. “So let us discuss what the position entails.”

Shadow Link wants to ask if he gets to be a Lord too, but decides against it. As far as he knows, ‘Shadow’ is already a title.

“We have much to discuss,” says Lord Ganon. “You have an important role to play, Shadow Link.”

He straightens in his chair. “So I got the job?”

Vaati’s eye rolls.

“Yes,” Lord Ganon says, “you got the job.”

He has the urge to shake someone’s hand—but Lord Vaati only has wings, Lord Ganon seems to be working remotely, and he himself only got hands like ten minutes ago, so he’d probably be pretty uncoordinated. Hopefully by the next time it’s appropriate to give a firm business handshake, he’ll be a little more experienced.

“Great,” Lord Vaati says with even greater annoyance. “I’m so glad I attended this important and necessary meeting.”

“Hold your tongue,” Lord Ganon warns. “Shadow Link will see you freed into the world of the light. If not for him, you would be trapped in the Dark World indefinitely.”

Shadow Link nods, relieved to be getting some idea of his assigned role. He isn’t sure which superior he prefers—the one who view him as a shameless nepotism hire, or the one who nepotism-hired him in a position far above his apparent qualifications. But then again, who’s to say he isn’t qualified for whatever purposes Ganon has yet to fully establish? He was created for them, after all!

“Yes, Shadow Link, you will do great things,” Ganon says, and his words invoke the oddest feeling. How can a compliment feel so much like a threat? “You will free the Wind Mage, wreak havoc on Hyrule, and pave the way for darkness to consume the light.”

“I see,” Shadow Link says, a small grin growing on his face. He’s not so sure about the Wind Mage stuff or the dark and light, but wreaking havoc does sound fun. Certainly more fun than the not-existing he’d been doing before.

Which… before. What had he been doing before? Not him, not really, but someone casting a shadow. A shadow that, to the original person’s knowledge or not, has been granted personhood of its own.

Shadow Link. He is Shadow Link.

“Before we discuss your employment,” Lord Ganon says, “it is customary to ask: Do you have any questions for us?”

Shadow—just Shadow now, he's decided—stares into the inscrutable darkness, his hat flicking behind his back.

“Yeah, I have a question: who the hell is Link?”

#fs #four swords manga #four swords #four swords adventures #shadow link #vaati #my writing #tagging this with future elements in the fic even if they're not in this chapter #vio link #vidow #i'm really excited to finally start writing/post this!!

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eviltothecore13 · 11 months

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...Did I just see someone, in 2023, claiming that the Wesker project was "a CSA allegory"?

I mean, at least they're not claiming that it's definitively canon that he was actually sexually abused, but...

*Why?*

Like. The thing the Wesker project is most obviously an allegory for is the various kinds of indoctrination that bigoted groups use to convince their members they're superior/entitled to greatness/etc because of their race or nationalitity or anything else (not that I'm saying Umbrella or Wesker work along racial lines at all, because we know they don't, but *as an allegory*). I can't find *anything* explicitly stated in canon that is about sexual abuse, but I can find a lot about indoctrination and raising him to believe he was superior--and a lot about him being incredibly privileged all his life with phrases like "the best education money can buy."

There's no *need* for anything remotely resembling sexual (or physical) abuse to take place in Wesker's backstory. (Or emotional abuse of the "you're worthless, you're pathetic" etc kind I sometimes see depicted in fics--again, the point of the project is to convince him he's *superior!* And its canon result was someone described in official materials as "confident", who genuinely believes he's superior and is never shown to doubt himself! I do think his upbringing was emotionally *distant*/not focussed on emotions because it was only concerned with success and power and that he wasn't close to anyone except Alex and later Will--but the idea of him being constantly berated and mocked and bullied just goes against both the goals of the project, and the effect we see it's had on him. Being mocked and insulted throughout your childhood does not generally *improve* someone's confidence or their opinion of themselves!)

The goals of the project are to create someone who is physically strong and capable (note, it does NOT say anywhere in canon that he was exposed to any of the viruses, or physically experimented on in any way, until 1998--it says there were "tests of endurance" which Alex according to the English translation viewed as "hellish", though in the Japanese files it's more like "rigorous training to improve their mental and physical abilities". Either way suggests more an elite/extremely challenging and difficult perhaps military-esque physical training program, rather than "strapped to an operating table and injected with stuff". Prior to 1998 there is *zero* canon indication that he was anything other than human with a lot of training physically.), highly intelligent, academically successful, ruthless, ambitious, a good leader, and fully convinced of the ideology that they are superior beings and the majority of people are inferior etc.

Starving someone, beating them, sexually abusing them, keeping them *so* isolated that realistically they would panic in a social setting/struggle to hold a conversation rather than being a highly charismatic and confident master manipulator who's very skilled at figuring people out and getting them on his side (like, I don't think he was around people enough to *form close relationships* with anyone other than Alex as a child, but he needs to have had a reasonable amount of interaction with a variety of people to develop the skills at leadership and at manipulating people, deceiving them, gaining their trust, getting them to like him, etc that he canonically has to a high degree! he is not going to acquire those skills if he is locked up in a cell in an underground lab), are all either unnecessary or outright counterproductive to these goals.

We know that, on average, even though only 13 of the hundreds got past the final stage of selection (and yes, it is confirmed to be multiple stages of selection and not "they're the only ones who survived to adulthood" as I've seen some people claim) to be given the virus, the Wesker children were generally more successful than the average person. (We can tell this just because 13 out of a few hundred were considered just as good as Wesker--who got a PhD at 17. That is more people, in the space of a short time, getting a PhD at 17 than IRL achieved that through *the entire 20th century*. And the people who did that IRL weren't doing intense physical training on top of that... or for that matter learning to become leaders or master manipulators. The project wasn't successful at creating loyalty or obedience to Spencer, but it *was* successful at seemingly everything else.)

Sexual and physical abuse *do not* make the victims more successful on average than people who were not abused. They tend to lead to children doing *less* well academically (very hard to learn when under stress and even more so if also in physical pain, difficulty concentrating, memory issues--trauma can lead not just to memory issues *about the trauma* but memory issues about all kinds of day-to-day things...), being physically weaker and less healthy (chronic pain etc from injuries, stress affecting the immune system, shorter and skinnier if they didn't get enough food or if stress affected their appetite etc--note that both Weskers we see are above average height, in Albert's case above average height and muscular even pre-virus, in Alex's case the virus only slowed the progression of her illness and didn't give her superpowers so likely also didn't make her taller, so she is naturally 5ft10 despite having been chronically ill for much of her life... not exactly looking like childhood malnourishment here...), being less confident, socially awkward or anxious or struggling to interact with people (Wesker spent most of his life in leadership positions and was able to get everyone at STARS, without exception--and including people like Chris who generally have problems with authority--to like him and place absolute trust in him), and often burning out/not achieving much later in life because they lack motivation that isn't based on fear of punishment (Wesker is certainly motivated, and has had an extremely successful career and is then very successful with most of his evil plans once he gets into the whole supervillainy thing).

Sexual and physical abuse do not make people stronger. They do not make people more confident. They do not make people more successful. The Wesker Project *did* succeed at doing all these things.

(Yes, some real-life educational/training programs with the stated goal of making people more successful or stronger have had incidents of sexual abuse, because predators join the organisation and exploit their position... but it isn't *beneficial to the program's stated goals*--all other things being equal someone who was abused will generally struggle more to be successful than someone who wasn't--it's a failure of the program, not a case of the program working as intended... the Wesker Project was scientifically designed to set these kids up for success and power and we know *it worked*, not simply in the sense of success in a narrow area like a sport at the expense of a lot of other things, but in terms of being extremely skilled and successful at a huge variety of things and extremely adaptable and fast-learning.)

If you want a villain whose primary purpose in the plot is to be someone you're meant to feel sorry for, or who hates themself, or is depressed, etc... there are so many others in various works of fiction. Wesker is not that character and twisting him into it just seems to be making him into a different character entirely from the one canon portrays.

I know some people just don't care about canon-compliance--not just because of things like people saying "his confidence is fake and would collapse at the slightest challenge" when the official RE4 book (not a noncanon novelisation like SD Perry's nonsense, official canon content) calls him "a confident man" who likes a challenge (and it's not from his POV but from a factual/unbiased narrator), but because I've encountered some *really odd* canon-breaking things in fics that weren't tagged as AU at all. (One of the most nonsensical-seeming to me, and I wish I could spoiler this like on Discord because it does need a tw but uh... tw self-harm... had Wesker portrayed as having frequently cut himself throughout his life, including frequently doing so at STARS, including only a few weeks before the Mansion Incident, explicitly described as cuts on his wrists and forearms... even though *his sleeves are rolled up in RE1* and *you can see there are no scars there*... those kinds of scars can take years to fade, and again, Wesker was physically human at this point, they are not going to vanish in a few weeks.) But I do wish stories portraying Wesker as some kind of angsty victim had a single clear AU tag on AO3 so they could all easily be filtered out when I'm trying to find canon-compliant fics.

This is why most of my Wesker fics have been delayed for a while, I just find this fandom so frustrating at times because half the Wesker fans seem to be fans of a very different character... it's exhausting and makes me feel as if no-one actually appreciates the character I love, as he is depicted canonically in the games I love...

#tw abuse #tw csa mention #tw self-harm #tw fictional abuse #tw fictional child abuse #not every good villain story has to be a story of trauma and abuse #sometimes an interesting and complex character can be made #from a story about entitlement and privilege and arrogance and power #even if the resulting character is less palatable #less 'sympathetic' in a conventional 'oh poor thing needs a hug' sense #resident evil #wesker #albert wesker

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