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ametrictonofaudacity · 2 years ago

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Hii! I've requested from you before ( I requested yan superman and what he told lois and his parents about reader) but anyway, I had another idea for a one-shot to share if you don't mind! ( It's a bit of a marvel x DC thing)

Reader being the child of a villain and being saved by Batfam and/ or superfam and taken into their family. One day the justice league gets wind of some kind of interdimensional portal that opened up. Superfam / batfam shocked to see it's their darling child. Basically they come from a universe where they were never saved by their father and were raised by their bio villain parents. I could imagine superfam's darling being like Deadpool or being raised by someone like him (ignoring the fact he's from marvel). They swear a lot and have a crude and sarcastic sense of humor. Just the complete opposite from superman's version of his child.

For Batfam reader would be like Laura Kinney, and since they were never saved they ended up as a test subject for a secret organization trying to create mutant solders. They see reader following their father and not exactly know how to interact with people without trying to murder them. (Much like Laura Kinney in the movie Logan). They don't talk and once they've calmed down they are a sweet kid just damaged. Imagine batman's anger seeing Logan act so aggressive/ passive aggressive towards different reality! Reader.

It breaks both families hearts to see their child be so different due to all the pain they went through. Maybe the justice league uses their counterparts technology and their data base and they basically see what reader went through. All the intense testing that's basically torture ( if you're comfortable writing that) like the documentation of every experiment that reader went through. ( Maybe in their universe they didn't know the gravity of the whole situation and didn't see what happened they just knew that this kid needed help).

Anyways that's just what's been on my mind, thank you in advance if you do answer❤️ have a good day sirrr!!

Hi!! I would absolutely love to write this, it’s such a neat idea! Especially given the different reactions each family member would have, as well as how it works!

So for this, I’ll be doing the Batman one, but I honestly think there will be a Superfam follow up!

Logan will not be on screen, but he ( as well as other Marvel characters, will be referenced!! Reader has enhances senses, on par with Wolverine

Warnings: medical abuse and torture, obsessive behavior, some deeply traumatized children, reader is non-verbal for the most part, mentioned child neglect and controlling behavior. As always, read safely and enjoy!!

You had lived in a mansion before. Briefly, of course, not having like being tied down by the X-Men and their strange customs, but you had lived there. It had been awkward and strange and uncomfortable, adjusting from life on the run to life with a bed and a warm plate, not helped by the fact that Wolverine had wanted nothing to do with you.

This wasn’t that. This was so far from that it made you seethe with rage.

You drag your claws over a bit of wood, gouging into it, and grit your teeth. You had been avoiding your dimensional counterpart, and their siblings, and now you you were trying and failing to carve something from the hunk of dead wood you had found under a tree. It was slow going, since you didn’t have any proper tools and the action only reminded you of the fact that, somehow, you had drawn the dimensional short stick and gotten completely screwed.

You throw the hunk of wood at the tree with an enraged shriek, and it shatters, tiny bits of wood flying everywhere. It wasn’t even good carving wood anyways. Too dry and brittle.

You begin to search for a new one. Alfred- their butler- kept the grounds neat. Pristine. It was hard to find any wood of carving size lying around, and it was even harder to find a piece worth trying to carve.

Your ears prick at the sound of a body moving, the footsteps so silent there’s no possible way you would have heard it if you weren’t a mutant. There’s a pause, and then the body moves forward again, this time much louder.

It takes you a moment to realize they were announcing their presence. The thought warms your chest a little bit, and you retract your claws, feeling the skin heal over and the pain vanish.

Dick -your counterparts oldest brother- steps out into view. You stare at him, even as he continues to approach, a friendly smile on his face. Everything about him, his body language and the way his blue eyes sparked with concern, was an open book, a far cry from when you first arrived and he watched you with sharp eyes while keeping your counterpart away from you.

You didn’t trust it, and you shift, narrowing your eyes at him. He doesn’t seem phased.

“Hey! I was looking for you. Dinner’s ready, if you would like to come eat?” He offers with a small half smile, and your stomach decides for you. You nod, and he grins.

“Come on than. We’ll be eating in the main hall tonight, since everyone is visiting to help you with everything that’s been going on.” He doesn’t touch you, although his hand twitches like he wants to, and you appreciate it. You wonder if your counterpart also didn’t like being touched, or if they had grown used to it.

You follow silently. He seems content to let the silence hang, before he glances at you.

“Damian had a lot of similar problems when he first got here. The anger, the violence. He wasn’t used to having anyone in his corner.” It’s a statement. One that baffles you.

Had they really realized how much you were struggling with such ease? If so, how? You knew you were violent and abrasive, you came by it honestly, so how were they so good at telling? Not even Logan, your father, had realized, and you both had spent so much time shoving each other way that it had become a familiar song and dance.

You don’t say anything. You don’t think he expects you too, even though he lets the silence hang in the air. It’s not an awful silence. It’s almost peaceful, actually.

The Mansion was in full view now, old brick and ivy covered walls, and you follow him inside. You are immediately hit with the sound of laughter, and yelling, and delighted clapping and whooping. It takes you a moment to reorient yourself, but when you do, you quietly slip further into the halls, sticking close to Dick.

He seems almost smug about that. You figure it’s simply another one of this world’s weird eccentricities.

The hall has one massive, long table, and there are so many people there. You had seen some of them, you recognized the white-haired one as Jason and the shortest as Damian, but so many of them were entirely new. Your counterpart seems comfortable, and you avert your eyes from them, slightly weirded out to see your face on someone else.

“Oi! Dick, get over here!” Jason motions, pointing to the two seats next to him. Dick grins, sitting in his seat, and you sit as well, idly fiddling with your silverware.

“So how come you were the only one able to find them when the rest of us were tearing through the manor looking for them?” Jason complains, and he passes a plate, Dick serving his food and yours. You don’t know if you’re pleased or annoyed, but he gives you plenty and that’s all you really care about.

“They just needed some time to cool off outside.” Dick shrugs, and you start eating, your stomach twisting angrily every second you don’t.

“Whatever. B managed to get some results on the the blood tests, so all of that is.. in the works.” Jason gestures vaguely, and you frown, before a new person huffs.

She’s blonde, and pretty, with sharp blue eyes that narrow at Jason.

“Keep talking shop at the dinner table and Alfie’s gonna bench you.” She sing-songs, before turning to you. “I’m Stephanie, by the way. I wasn’t here when you arrived, or else I would have kept the guys from being too stupid.”

“Oh bullshit! You would’ve been pulling stupid shit right alongside us.” Jason protests, and you snort. The sound surprises you, but it makes a delighted grin appear on Stephanie’s and Jason’s faces, and even your counterpart looks pleased.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She declares imperiously, nose upturned to give the illusion of looking down at Jason. It doesn’t work, mainly because he was so much taller than her and she was fighting off a smirk.

“Uh-huh. Sure Blondie.” Jason drawls, and you take another bite of food.

“Can we please not do this? It’s way too early.” Another new person, alarmingly pale although maybe his complexion was just like that, groans, rubbing at his forehead. You tilt your head, wondering whether he was injured. You didn’t think so.

“Timbers, it’s five in the afternoon.” Dick points out.

“Oh he definitely didn’t sleep again last night.” Jason says, almost gleefully. “He’ll be lucky if Alfie doesn’t chew him out.”

“I was busy! Anyways, I managed to get it so that, at the very least, we can access the files B found on our newest visitor.” He shrugs, and you tense. You had some idea what would be in those files, and none of it was good. The only people who had kept files on you back home, who had known you existed, was the lab you came from and the X-Men. You’d read both. They weren’t flattering.

You hear Jason suck in a breath. You slide your plate away, and everyone’s attention shifted to you.

You press your lips together, and then point towards the door that would lead into the room where the clock was.

Somehow, they understand you perfectly. You wonder if they also have a telepath.

“You want one of us to come with?” Jason asks, and there’s a sharp gleam behind his eyes. You don’t know how to decipher it, but you shake your head. He frowns.

You don’t wait for his response, instead slipping out of the room. Everyone is quiet when you leave, even Stephanie and Tim.

You step into the Cave, and the cool, moist air tickles your skin. It smells strange. Machinery, and gunpowder and underground. What you would think an underground lab or facility smelled like, but steeped in different, strange scents. All of your counterpart’s siblings. Medical supplies. Dog, even a hint of cow. It was a strange amalgamation of scents that was oddly fitting.

There’s was also the acute scent of rage. You stiffen, and you resist the urge to let your claws out, instead going down the stairs even though your instincts demand you do anything but. All else fails, you could simple flee.

Bruce- Batman- was standing in front of a massive monitor. He was stock still, every muscle coiled into something sharp, something dangerous, and the sight of it makes your heart clench in your chest in worry. The white lenses of his cowl were fixed on the text on screen, completely hiding his eyes, and if it weren’t for the scent of grief and anger radiating off him, you might have assumed he was simply like that. He always seemed able to come off as far more dangerous than he was. Or just as dangerous as he was.

You look at the monitor.

It was an old, old file. Ancient. From when you were too young to remember, based off the date. Either way, it had never illicited quite an extreme reaction before.

He stiffens. Maybe he finally broke out of his trance of rage to realize he was around someone else. You could relate. Anger could be.. blinding, sometimes. Emotions could be blinding.

He turns.

In a moment, everything about him changes. His entire stances softens, into something so much softer and far more gentle. His scent changes also, and there’s something entirely new in his scent. The grief and rage soften into something else, and you have no idea what to do with that at all.

There’s salt in the air that wasn’t there before.

You frown, and then turn just slightly, pointing to the time, and the entrance to the cave. He releases a shuddering breath, and nods.

“I’ll be up in a moment. Let me get changed.”

You nod, and for a second, consider what to do. Leave him here, and join the others, instead of waiting? You would like privacy, if you were nearly as emotional as he seemed right now. Or stay, and offer support?

You turn away, offering him his space, and go up the stairs.

Strangely enough, you are confident he will follow, and your skin doesn’t crawl despite the fact you had your back turned.

You wonder if everyone in this new world was as strange as these people. You’re not sure you would mind it if they were.

#dc comcis #yandere dc #yandere platonic x reader #yandere platonic batfam #yandere platonic dick Grayson #yandere platonic Bruce Wayne #marvel x dc crossover

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stil-lindigo · 1 year ago

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i’ve got a question about red and wolf that you may or may not have an answer to, so feel free to ignore: what made red start watching wolf in the first place? like, red’s an immortal personification of an abstract concept, so what got her interested in this one, specific, human? like wolf hadn’t even killed her husband or gotten all wolf-y yet, but clearly something caught red’s attention. its all from wolf’s pov and she only notices red after red’s already noticed her—red’s literally ‘the woman who watched me’. idk i guess it just seems like we only really have half of the story, and i was wondering if you knew what the other half was

So like - although Red is immortal, she isn't a static being. The closest comparison I can make to it is like in Dr Who, where there have been different versions of the Doctor during this one character's existence with different personalities and appearances, but they're all still the Doctor. In the same way, Red goes through 'lives', which end only whenever the current version of Red decides they've had enough. As a being who is supposed to personify passion and rage and lust as well as a whole lot of other...intense things, it wouldn't do for them to ever be bored of their existence - reforming into a clean slate every now and then helps keeps things interesting for them.

The current Red we know, Wolf's Red, isn't terribly interested in being wrathful - so much so that she surrenders part of it (in the form of Ash) out of love for Wolf. I'd call her one of the more mellow versions of Red (which is a little funny, considering she still has her fair share of blood on her hands but that's par for the course). But I'm getting off track.

Red was in love with Wolf's potential more than anything else. She continues to be in love with Wolf, because she met that expectation and surpassed it by leaps and bounds. And whenever Wolf dies, Red will feel that loss implicitly.

#lore drop #red roots #calling the whole red/wolf ash/snow story that now #i think its...cute #askbox #anon

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greenesmyfavcolor · 3 months ago

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I got to see Wicked Part 1 yesterday so here’s a little review of it! Spoilers for the movie and Wicked in general if you have not seen it yet! (which YOU SHOULD)

I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned this before on here but I’m actually a super big fan of Wicked (I mean, who isn’t though, right?) I first got into it when I was around 12 and since then, I’ve seen bootlegs of it tens of hundreds of times, collected all sorts of things such as shirts, cds, posters, pins, books (yes I even read that book lol), and I even had the privilege of seeing it on Broadway a couple years back. It also got me into Kristin Chenoweth who I actually got to see in concert too! (No disrespect to the other queen ofc)

So basically, I went into this movie ready to be real critical if need be since Wicked holds a special place in my heart and I didn’t want anything in this to be a downgrade from the stage musical.

That being said, Wicked Part 1 was one of the best movie musicals I’ve ever seen. I loved, loved, LOVED LITERALLY everything about it!!! Everything from the songs, to the acting, choreography, set design, cinematography, you name it, it was PERFECT.

The one thing I was really worried about going into it was the pacing since the movie is two and a half hours long compared to Act 1 of the stage show which is only about an hour. But honestly, nothing felt dragged out and there were no unnecessary scenes added to bloat things. Everything went at a completely natural pace, definitely slower compared to the stage show but it made sense and it’s definitely not the first movie musical adaptation to do this. Because it was at a slower pace, it made the characters and scenes feel more fleshed out compared to the stage musical which was great to see.

The music was also on POINT. I had no doubts that Cynthia and Ariana were going to be anything less than amazing, and of course they didn’t disappoint. But there’s been so many movie musicals lately that just straight up don’t have good music in them? Like, the one thing you’re supposed to get right, they can’t even get that right. It’s definitely gotten better over the past couple years but most of them still aren’t as good as they could be. And as someone who’s lived and breathed the original Broadway cast album for years, I can see myself choosing to listen to the movie’s soundtrack over the Broadway’s any day. Some parts just scratch my brain better so to speak than they do in the original like “dear Galinda you are just too good how do you stand it I don't think I could” in What Is this Feeling? or “who's the mage whose major itinerary is making all Oz merrier” in One Short Day. Now I’m probably still gonna end up listening to the Broadway version the majority of the time, mainly out of nostalgia, but the movie’s is 100% on par with the original’s, no questions asked. The ensemble especially just blew me away with how clear and distinct everyone sounded, particularly during No One Mourns the Wicked and One Short Day. As they should though! We’ve become too sensitized to movie musicals today having muted and flavorless or just straight up bad voices in them that it was so refreshing to hear actual good, strong singing voices in a musical.

One big criticism I’ve heard most people having with the movie though is that the lighting is too bright and that the colors are faded and bland. I’m not sure if it’s because I’ve gotten used to just about every live action movie nowadays looking like this but it really didn’t bother me when I watched it. Obviously, I would have preferred for the colors to pop more like they do in the 1939 Wizard of Oz. And the thing is, there is one moment where the colors do pop during the end of Popular and it looks SO good and like the whole movie should have been like that. But personally, it doesn’t hender my experience as much as it does with other people to the point where I can easily just ignore it.

Moving on, let me tell you, I cried so many times throughout the whole thing it’s not even funny. Now, I cry nearly every time I watch Wicked but it’s impressive that it was able to let me capture the EXACT same feelings I have when I watch a slime tutorial of it, or heck, even when I watched it on freaking Broadway itself. One notable scene was during No One Mourns the Wicked where before, I never truly took into account of how hurt Glinda must feel to try and hide all the pain and regret she’s feeling on the inside in front of everyone. But seeing the anguish on her face when she had to light the statue of Elphaba on fire SENT ME. It’s not something you can really pick up on a stage fifty feet away from you so seeing all the emotions on her face up close really choked me up. Another time was when Elphaba and Glinda dance together. Seeing Elphaba cry (which were real tears by Cynthia btw) for being truly accepted for the first time in her life really moved me like no other time I’ve watched that scene as, like I’ve said before, you can’t see the nuance of their faces on a far away stage. And of course, Defying Gravity had me bawling like a baby. It always does, but like I said before, it was able to capture the same feeling I had as when I saw it live on stage, it was incredible.

Also, I was totally NOT expecting Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth to appear the way they did! I knew they were going to make some sort of cameo, it was inevitable, but I thought they were just going to have a couple of lines to say or something. But NOPE! They straight up have their own new part to sing during One Short Day that COMPLETELY caught me off guard. I legit almost screamed in the theater 🤣 But yeah, that moment was really special and made me smile cause I could see just how much not only they enjoyed being there with all the little homages they made, but how much you could tell the other actors just absolutely adored being around them. And even if you went into this not knowing who they were beforehand (which how could you), you could tell that they were supposed to be a big deal based on their presence alone and Cynthia and Ariana’s chemistry with them.

So to conclude this long, drawn out review that I’d be impressed if anyone actually read all the way through, I think it’s of perfect of an adaptation as it could have been and it will definitely go down as being one of the best movie musicals of all time. Obviously if you’ve seen just a glimpse of me, you’d know that I already have an all time favorite, and that’s not changing anytime soon, but I’d be lying if I said Wicked didn’t come scarily close to topping it (not too close tho lol). I’m literally so shocked at how good this adaptation ended up being. I fear this is going to be my new personality for the next few months as it’s definitely reignited my love for Wicked again 😭

I absolutely cannot wait for Part 2 to come out next year so in the meantime, I will happily be rewatching Part 1 over and over again until then as it is THE definitive version of Wicked to watch now 💚🩷

#please excuse the terrible quality photo #I was trying to get one of those playbill photos but it’s hard to do in front of a screen in a dark theater #and I don’t have good enough editing skills to make it look good lol #wicked #wicked part one #wicked part 1 #wicked the movie #wicked the musical #elphaba thropp #wicked elphaba #glinda upland #wicked glinda #glinda the good witch #glinda x elphaba #cynthia erivo #ariana grande #ariana grande glinda

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generalb · 3 months ago

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Concept custom card for King Ghidorah, specifically the version from King of the Monsters!

Now usually I’d include my reasonings for the abilities and whatnot here, but I spend the better part of an hour figuring this shit out, and all of that brainstorming? I did on this post. So if you’re interested in how I came to this, it’s all under the cut. If you want an *exact* explanation for the abilities, send a reply on this post! As always, constructive criticism and feedback is greatly appreciated!

Oh and before I forget,

(Personally I’m leaning a bit towards yes)

How would I go about making a King Ghidora mtg card?

A better question: how would I make a *unique* King Ghidora magic card?

We have to start with the basis of what I know about King Ghidora, which is unfortunately very little. Most of what I know comes from common knowledge, the semi-recent King of the Monsters film, and that weird version in the anime trilogy that was on Netflix that one time. Is that paltry amount of information good enough? Let’s see.

King Ghidora:

Flies

Is from space

Has three heads

Can regenerate said heads and probably partial amounts of itself

Can fire energy beams from all three heads

Is usually on par or stronger than Godzilla.

In Kotm, it’s able to corral other Kaijus to work for it, what with that whole Alpha Titan nonsense.

Seems like a good enough start right?

Wrong! Let me explain by saying why the Godzilla custom card I made is of Shin Godzilla, and not normal Godzilla.

The difficulty in making a plain Godzilla card is because he’s a giant lizard that has a ranged attack. Normally, this translates into a creature with a high toughness and power, maybe a trample or menace, and then an ability that would do ranged damage to creatures. There’d even be space for flavor text.

This is the conundrum I see with a king Ghidora. At most, I can give it Flying, high power/toughness, and maybe an attack that can deal a certain amount of damage up to one, two, or three targets to represent the three heads. But that isn’t interesting to me! If you don’t know, Ikoria released a lot of giant creatures.

Like, a lot of them. Hell, this was the set that had the Godzilla Secret layers that didn’t mesh well enough to get me interested in the first place!

Now perhaps I just don’t go out enough anymore, but I don’t think I’ve run into any of these giant creatures from Ikoria. Some like the Apex’s can be excused since Ikoria also leaned heavily into the Mutate mechanic along with the giant Beasts. But there plenty of creatures, legendary or not, that are still in play in commander from even before Ikoria, sometimes because their abilities are just plain stupid(Krenko Mob Boss) but most others due to how fun it is to build a deck around(Xantcha, Sleeper Agent).

When i look to play commander, i want someone strong, perhaps not op, but im at least looking for abilities where i can say, “yeah, that’s cool! I can think of a way to exploit it.” And when i look at a big flying dinosaur alien that fires lasers, i just don’t see it. King Ghidora, in all its complexity, manages to be as boring as King Kong in terms of abilities. Very cool in the movies, but in card building? There’s very little I can see that i could give it that couldn’t just be given to a Godzilla card or any other Titan.

I could give it the alpha nonsense but even that could go on a Godzilla or even King Kong card if I went there. No, the truly unique part of Ghidora that baseline Godzilla doesn’t appear to have is its regenerative effects. But even that is hard to represent. While the Keyword Ability Regenerate does exist, it’s not exactly in theme. Ghidora, after all, isn’t able to completely regenerate from scratch, else it wouldn’t have lost to Godzilla. And usually, all creatures “regenerate” at the end of each turn, reverting to their power/toughness before any damage dealt.

Of course, I’m not the first to take a crack at this. What have others done for Ghidora?

…hmm. There’s *some* neat ideas. Nothing that scrathes right though. What if I go back and watch the first fight between it and Godzilla in kotm?

youtube

Okay first off WOW they keep cutting to the people so much in these fights. Remember when people were mad they cut away form the fights in the 2014 movie? I’d rather that then Monster-human-monster-human-monster. Jesus.

Anyways, something neat I noticed: Ghidora isn’t exactly stronger than Godzilla per se, but is smarter. The three heads often worked to subdue Godzilla rather than deal massive, devastating blows. Guessing here, but it seems that its Anti-Godzilla strategy is to tire it out and then go for the kill.

Hmm…..strong, but not much stronger…..works smarter, evades Godzillas biggest attacks, and doesn’t seem to take much damage when they hit anyways. Laser beams. Intimidation tactics. Sends smaller Titans to fight and weaken. Indirect damage?

You know, I’m starting to see something here. Perhaps Izzet? You know what cards are coming to mind? ghyrson Starn, Kelermorph, Captain Ripley Vance, and Stella Lee, Wild Card. I like it’s 6/6, but with the abilities I’m thinking of, perhaps a 4/5 would be a bit more even. What can happen in thirds enough that it could be done at least once per turn but not to the point that it’s insane?

Ghidorah is clever, to the point where it uses sources outside its natural abilities . In that case, I think some form of card manipulation might be possible. Perhaps something that lets you look at the 3 top cards of your library , before putting them back in any order. Than another ability that lets you revela the top of your deck, and if it’s a creature, King Ghidorah deals 3 damage to any target? This is a neat idea, but it doesn’t feel like something a Kaiju should be able to do.

Ooo! I’ve got it! Storm! Okay I have an idea I’m gonna go put it together

#mtg #magic the gathering #mtg custom card #king ghidorah #godzilla #godzilla king of the monsters #monster zero #mtg commander #Youtube

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rottingfern · 1 year ago

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sweetened breath, tongue so mean || a Bad Omens fanfic

Pairing: Noah x nonbinary OC

Summary: They're screaming at each other. They're throwing hands. They're half a second away from a violent hatefuck. And at the end of the day, they'll still call each other friends.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: ANGST, toxic relationship, language, heavy consumption of alcohol, degradation kink if you squint, brief discussion of body image, OC gets deadnamed, depiction of a panic attack, choking, cunnilingus, penetration, hair pulling, slightly dubious consent, spitting.

A/N: Wow do I love angst. But be warned going into this: THESE BITCHES IS TOXIC. Noah is not a very nice person in this, and neither is OC. This fic does not depict a healthy relationship. This is a work of fiction depicting a fictionalized version of Noah and does not represent him in real life.

A MASSIVE THANK YOU TO @signs-of-ill-portent AND @the-way-of-words FOR BETA-ING THIS FIC AND SCREAMING ABOUT IT WITH ME, for getting on my characters' levels with me and for egging me on to delve as deep and dark as I needed for this fic, for not allowing me to mince words and for listening to me catastrophize about the story beats as I figured out how to convey all the nuance this fic needed. Y'all really did the most when you didn't have to, and I AM EXTREMELY GRATEFUL TO YOU FOR THAT! My heart eyes are laser focused on you.

Brainrot Club: @meekahy @foliosriot @badhedonist Theme song is Hatef--k by The Bravery. I actually made a whole playlist! Click here to listen. Masterlist here.

Title taken from Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene by Hozier; banner made by me; dividers by @saradika

Lee’s just about done with this show (though it hasn’t even begun) when their shoulders hit the poorly finished wall of the back hallway of the venue.

His lips are searing, supple and wet and clingy as they suck to their own. They clench their teeth shut at the insistent push of his tongue past their lips, demanding entry into their mouth. Maybe this whole moment - the hands on their shoulders, the thigh between their knees, pinned between drywall and a solid mass of body heat and want - would be hot, desirable even, had it all not belonged to the one shithead they’d been hoping to avoid tonight.

Of course, Lee would have more luck surviving a plane crash into the ocean than avoiding a shithead when said shithead is Noah Sebastian Davis. This whole situation is vomit-inducing. Embarrassing, honestly. They push on his chest, hard, like their life depends on it.

“God, knew you’d want it,” Noah pants when Lee finally manages to separate his suction cup of a mouth from theirs, his shit-eating grin planted firmly like he’d done something - whether he meant to be sexy or purposely disgusting, they’re not sure - and it doesn’t help he hasn’t learned to be less cryptic since they’d seen him last. “What, no ‘hello’, no ‘how are you’?” Lee shoots back. They’d backpedaled out that green room as soon as the members of their entourage were occupied by conversation, though they really should’ve expected this. Noah following them down dimly lit hallways with dishonorable purpose is par for the course. “Didn’t think I’d need one. Once a slut, always a slut.” His chuckle is like shattering ice, each shard aimed at Lee. “Isn’t that right, Leanne?”

Noah hasn’t changed in the ten years since they’d met, and Lee isn’t about to let the persistent press of his thick, hard cock against their stomach through layers of denim and terry cloth (or the way an engine downstairs springs to life when they feel it) change their opinion of him: that he’s a shithead through and through, cocky in the worst kind of way, hell-sent the day he was born when the universe decided not only to make him a bigheaded fool but also to let him win the genetic lottery in one fell swoop.

Doesn’t stop the clench of their cunt that they struggle to suppress. Doesn’t prevent the mental scolding they’re forced to give themself: the chaos monster that is Noah Davis’s entire being isn’t worth dealing with for even a hookup. It’s pathetic, tacky even.

Something primal, old and hungry flashes in the glassy gel of Noah’s eyes when he forces Lee’s gaze to his, fingers hooked firmly round their jaw; something uncontrollably soft in the way his jaw trembles to mirror Lee’s own when he grazes their hip with his free hand, when he presses his thumb firmly to their clit through the denim of their shorts.

There are a million things Lee could’ve picked from the Rolodex of elaborate insults soaked in a decade of contentious acquaintanceship they’ve stored specifically to knock Noah off his self-appointed pedestal, if only the butterflies insistently bubbling below their gut would just shut the fuck up for a single second. Could’ve, had Noah’s propensity to always control every situation so it goes his way not also applied to their own bodily function, apparently. Instead, they lower their chin, defiantly forcing his grip on their throat to tighten.

Dangerous mistake. Stupid fucking mistake, because their hips buck forward along his thigh at the pressure, just an inch, and Noah’s smile widens dangerously, and oh. Oh no. They know this look, and the words that are bound to slip from his mouth in three, two -

Like a miracle from God or whatever the fuck other omnipotent being lives in the sky, a shout of their name echoes through the corridors. Noah’s hands find Lee’s shoulders again, head dipping once more as their own hands push desperately against his chest in a mad scramble for dominance and escape. They will not be caught - will not be seen - kissing Noah fucking Davis in front of their coworkers. No fucking way. Gag. Although…

It does feel nice to be wanted, and it’s been so, so long since they’ve allowed themself this - no strings, mindless, just a quick way to get theirs. How long has it been? Since before they got sick, since before they put on the weight, surely. And Noah throws them around so effortlessly, they didn’t even feel that hot sting of insecurity as his hands ran down their body just minutes ago. And it’s not like they aren’t attracted to him, as long as he doesn’t speak. He’s always been hot - even Lee’s freshly-eighteen mind had been excited by the idea of snapping his scrawny little bones with their bare hands back then. And he’s only gotten hotter, with that fucking haircut and the way his once-concave pecs now ripple with muscle under their palms.

So, what’s the holdup? It’s not like the two of them haven’t done this before. It would be so easy: they give Noah what he wants, they get theirs, then they never have to see each other again (at least not for another three years or four years, likely). Why shouldn’t they just let him kiss them again?

“Lee!” comes another shout, snapping Lee from their reverie. It’s closer, the sound of footsteps to match echoing just around the corner now.

Their wandering mind had loosened their push on Noah’s chest to a caress, but now they use his momentary distraction to force him from them with all their might once again, schooling their stance into a casual side-lean against the wall just seconds before their friends round the corner.

“There you are,” Mike sighs. “C’mon, bitch, we don’t wanna miss the openers!” As Lee follows Mike and Noor out to the floor, they toss a playful smirk over their shoulder, but Noah’s already replaced his mask of impassiveness, arms crossed sternly with clenched fists. His loss.

Noor’s laserlike gaze scans Lee as they collect their drinks from the bar. “Have a sweet reunion?” she asks.

Lee huffs. They get enough of this shit from her at home, at work, basically everywhere. They love Noor, truly, but she’s impossible to fool and Lee really doesn’t need her picking around their brain when they themself don’t have a full understanding of what’s brewing in there.

“Sweet as fucking vinegar,” they instead reply, eyes rolling demonstratively. Noor’s lips purse in suspicion, so they turn away before she can do that fucking clairvoyant inspection of details thing she does, leading them back through the crowd to their coworkers.

It’s not that Lee is stupid enough to truly believe they’d manage to avoid Noah at a Bad Omens show - rather that they’d have elected to straight up Not Attend were the outing not made mandatory by their boss.

Mercury Hall is the largest venue in Burlington - a mid-size club with two balconies, standing thirty years with a stellar reputation to boot - but behind the scenes, despite a revolving door of staff, Mercury regularly employs a group of college kids who collectively have the common sense of a single person. Not that it’s surprising, really, considering Burlington houses two universities and both offer a “music business” major. Lee thinks Mercury should be hiring communications majors instead - maybe that’d fix their massive communication problem.

Ouroboros - Lee’s place of gainful employment - is a smaller club on the other side of Downtown, and has absolutely no affiliation with Mercury… except that the owners of the two clubs go way back, oldheads who’ve been buddies since school and all that, and Lee’s boss regularly makes any problems down at Mercury his problem.

Or, the problem of his long-suffering staff, to be precise.

Just like last week, for example, when Lee was just trying to sort out next month’s scheduling while jamming to some ABBA, and was interrupted by their boss Roy roping them into solving the issue with Mercury’s scheduling instead, on only a week’s notice.

Really, the solution was a no brainer. One band was not local and on a tightly-scheduled tour; the other - from just three hours south in Boston, were playing just a one-off gig. Ask the Boston guys to move to the following night - they’d get a Friday spot anyway, way better deal. Enlist Mike and Noor to assist with rescheduling the hired crew to Friday. It helped immensely that the Boston guys only recently graduated to playing Mercury, that Lee knew them from their years of traveling up to play Ouroboros. The other band was Bad Omens. So, really, Noah should be thanking Lee.

Thanks only came in the form of Hank, Mercury’s owner, interrupting their pre-show planning meeting two days ago to inform Ouroboros staff they’d been guest-listed for the Bad Omens gig. Lee thought better thanks would’ve come in the form of Hank hiring staff capable of doing their jobs, and stands by that opinion.

Excited chatter had erupted the minute Hank shut the door behind him - it’s a rare occasion that a decent metalcore act rolls through Burlington - but Lee could only focus on the cold pit that opened in their stomach at the thought of seeing Noah again. Later that night, they’d get disastrously wine-drunk with Noor on their ratty porch couch and lament on the absolute asshole that was Noah Sebastian Davis, but in that moment they only sat blank, nodding along obediently, as Roy instructed them to attend Hank’s “extremely generous offering”.

The issue isn’t going to the Bad Omens gig, because if there’s one positive thing they can say about Noah it’s that he really hit his stride with this project and Lee respects the grind. Nor is it the idea of being in the same room as him; it’s not like they haven’t been around him plenty and willingly over the past decade between touring through RVA with their college band, and in the multiple shared friend groups they’d amassed over the years.

Noah’s annoying as all hell: the kind of person who says and does whatever, whenever the hell he wants, who doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up, who will unapologetically push forward if it pleases him. And, apparently and unfortunately for Lee, his biggest pleasure is making them absolutely fucking miserable whenever they’re in proximity of one another. And especially unfortunately, he knows exactly how to push Lee’s buttons, which ones to push, and how to drive them to absolute breaking point.

And, his greatest pleasure is knowing Lee will just hatefuck him when they get too fed up. Lee would bet their life savings (spoiler: not much) that he was one of those kids who pulled all the girls’ pigtails on the playground.

Going into the evening, Lee’s biggest issue was just that: that they’d snap at him in front of their coworkers, that Roy or Hank would clock the familiarity and fire them or something, that they’d get overwhelmed and just fucking cry. Dealing with Noah’s antics was even a knife’s edge in the past, in casual environments where their friends would laugh it off as “Noah and Leanne bullshit”, when they’d had security in their identity and image.

In the now times however, with their confidence dropped to near-zero, with meds that make them burst to tears at any strong enough emotion, with a fragile half-decades acceptance of their queer identity (and Noah’s inability to fucking catch on and stop misgendering them), Lee wasn’t certain they’d be able to handle the pressure of the battle of wills Noah insisted on having each time they met.

Now, as the giant party of the Ouroboros staff, the touring party, and those of the Mercury staff who are legal to drink head to the Archives for after-hours drinks, Lee’s issue is that they’re actually enjoying themself because Resident Shithead Noah Sebastian Davis is being actually fucking pleasant. And they’re really not sure how to deal with that. It’s new territory. A no-person’s land, if you will.

He’d slowed down to where Lee trailed behind the rest of the group, likely sick of tripping over Church Street’s uneven cobblestones trying to keep up with Joakim’s (they refuse to call him Jolly. What the fuck kind of grown man calls himself Jolly?) speed racer pace. “Hey,” he says quietly.

Lee releases a long-suffering sigh. “Hi, Noah.”

They walk silently beside each other for a few minutes. From the corner of their eye as they tilt their head back to admire this year’s lighted arches, Lee sees Noah fidget uncomfortably. They’re seconds from spitting out an out with it, already when he finally asks, “So, archaeology was a bust, huh?”

Here we fucking go. They’ve decided their Rolodex of insults is useless and resort to just tossing him a nasty look, a roll of the eyes, and to speed up to walk with Mike, Noor and Folio when he hurriedly follows up with, “Only you seemed so excited about your degree.” He sports an unfamiliar expression Lee has never seen him wear (is it sheepishness? abashedness?), head dipped low. “Y’know. Back then.”

Lee’s brain is short circuiting. That’s the only explanation for the wall of static and dial-up tones smashcut with thirty different trains of thought that occupies it and allows them to respond only with a blank look and a dumb-sounding “oh” because, did Noah actually just ask them about their life?????

Since when did he give a flying fuck about anything but making their night hell? All Noah Sebastian Davis cares about is his boys, his music, and getting his. But, it makes sense, right, since the last time they saw each other was at a holiday party and barely spoke at all - maybe he is just curious. He’s being pleasant, but to what end? When does the other shoe drop?

Or, a small part of their brain whispers, maybe he’s finally grown up. He does look awfully sincere, chocolate eyes wide with concern. “Just didn’t work out,” Lee shrugs, electing to open up. “For a lot of reasons. Mostly because, I guess I didn’t love it enough to work up to the fun stuff once I started getting hired.” A bitter, self-deprecating chuckle escapes their throat way too loudly for comfort.

The group has reached the Archives now, and Lee sends a short nod in response to Noor’s concerned glance as she hesitates behind Mike at the bar door. They light a cigarette and lean against the wall, shuffling their foot along the pavement awkwardly. Lee tosses their gaze back up when Noah’s shoes stop before them. He’s open, inquisitive, and they can’t help but relax into it, dumping the rest out: “It’s a lot of travel. And my aunt was sick…”

They choke on the rest, and are suddenly enveloped in possibly the most comforting, needed hug they’ve received since she died.

“My mom, too, recently,” Noah eventually lets out, voice matching Lee’s choke. He presses them harder to his chest, holding them, clinging, letting Lee soak his shirt as they rock back and forth.

They break away from each other after a few minutes, Noah turning to let Lee try to wipe their tears without ruining their eyeliner as he swipes his own away with the heels of his palms. They turn back to each other with tight, abashed closed-mouth half-smiles, letting out matching embarrassed chuckles.

He slumps against the wall and they stand, shoulders grazing, gazing at the night sky. “Y’know, it’s strange to see you here, because I associate Philly with you first, Leanne,” Noah ponders lazily, “But Vermont strangely suits you.”

There’s that bitter feeling again. Lee lights another smoke (having lost their previous to the hug) and follows the smoke trail as it draws circles around the distant stars above, shining bright as though they’re watching from somewhere far, far from civilization.

There’s something you don’t get in Philly - that feeling of awe, of being just a molecule amidst the inconceivable mass of this universe, of every worry and problem being an ant to a continent, and you’re just trying to live your life to survive to the next and the most you can do is just live and love it. There’s something they’d missed for years being away from the far Northeast, something they take for granted until quiet, gentle moments like this. They don’t share any of that with Noah. Instead, they reply: “Noor’s rich parents bought her a house here, and she took me with her.”

“How long?” Noah sighs. He sounds dreamy, on the verge of sleep, eyes closed, body leaning firmly against theirs.

“Nearly five years, now.”

Noah’s eyes snap open, a smirk spreading his face like wildfire, words flowing faster than Lee can even brace for the hit. “Five years of Vermont Cheddar’s done wonders for that ass,” he snarks.

There it fucking is, the other fucking shoe. Leave it to him to open his stupid fucking mouth at a moment like this. Here they are, opening up about shit they’d barely even told their best friend, crying about their dead family together, and he’s making caveman-brain comments about their body.

Lee kicks off the wall, dislodging Noah’s resting body, flicking their unfinished cigarette at the ground. If there’s a God, he’ll make the ash ruin Noah’s squeaky-clean white Vans.

They feel an absolute idiot for trusting this idiot, for choosing these feelings to entrust to him. Should’ve known better. “With as much disrespect as possible: fuck you, Noah,” Lee spits at Noah’s stumbling form before jerking open the bar door, slamming it shut behind them.

Note to future self (which will inevitably be forgotten and ignored): beware the Archives after hours - it’s completely shot and always devolves to the same bullshit. Yes, every time. Do not be fooled by the arcade machines - they are half broken and will not save you.

Hank and Roy left after chugging their first and only beers in under a minute the way Frank and Charlie shovel down cat food before bed on Always Sunny. Mike’s sniffed out that one gruff DL crew guy that’s seemingly copy-pasted onto each tour that comes through town and is working on enticing him to go back to his place above Ouroboros with that fucking slick grin of his (“It’s only around the corner, they’ll be none the wiser”). Nobody’s behind the bar, because it’s easier for Donny to just let people serve themselves - not like afterhours is official or legal here, anyway - so why would he bother serving?

Everyone’s broken off into small groups or pairs, and Lee? Lee’s nursing their fourth whiskey, stuck finishing the shitty fries Noor always orders after she’s had her first drink, the same shitty ones she eats like, five of before pushing them away in disgust.

The floor is sticky, left to be cleaned by the opening staff, and more than half the bar’s got their wax pens out, making the whole place smell like wet dog. Like the top note of a sick perfume resting above the heart note of the sweat of thirty slightly-too-warm people. Eau de metalhead. They really oughta turn off the heat in this place already - it’s fucking June.

It’s not the heat that’s got Lee absolutely boiling, though, no, that would be too simple. It’s that among this absolute hellscape, Noah is ten feet away, laughing like all that shit outside just didn’t happen. He’s fucking with the glitchy Ms. Pac-Man machine with Nicholas. He’s shotgunning beers with Mike and Mike’s newest conquest. He’s not looking at Lee.

“- and after all that, like we had a moment, and after all that -” Lee laments to Noor, “For fuck’s sake, bitch, will you quit making eyes at Folio for one second?”

Greta Van Fleet’s “Heat Above” is playing over the tinny speaker, and Noor’s distracted “uh huh” as she bops along is tell enough for Lee. The bitch is gone.

“Fuck’s sake, Noor, you really gotta fuck the drummer every time?” Lee hisses, reaching blindly behind the bar for the whiskey they’d set in arm’s reach. Noor doesn’t hear them. Noor is too busy being her beautiful self, flicking a chunk of perfect raven curls behind her shoulder. Lee watches in horror as Folio presents the other tell that Noor’s one-hundred-percent gone for the night, something Lee has only seen happen genuinely, unironically in two situations - one in movies, and the other when Noor flirts with men: Folio fucking wiggles his eyebrows at her.

There’s the whiskey. Goddamn, do they need another drink. Somewhere behind them, Noah cackles. Nails on a fucking chalkboard.

Can you hear that dreadful sound? Fire still burning on the ground, Josh Kiszka screeches. You, or the other one, Josh? thinks Lee as they pour themselves another drink.

They turn, ready to shoot Noah a dirty look, and the fucker winks at them. They down their three fingers in one go and push off their stool towards the toilets.

Their vision swims, not from the five whiskeys, not from getting up too quickly, but from the pins and needles of bitter fury tearing at their chest.

It’s not that Noah’s enjoying himself. Good for him. It’s not that he’d been a vulgar dick, either, because they’re pretty sure that wasn’t the first time they’d gotten the “wonders for your ass” dig from him before.

It’s that they’d allowed him a single moment of benignant sincerity for probably the first time ever, let him in, showed their tender belly, and then he’d gone and stabbed them where they’re most vulnerable. That he’d pissed on any genuine connection they’d been building up to then.

It’s not that Noah was an asshole tonight, that will never change. That’s the sky blue. It’s that this time, Noah actually hurt their feelings.

Lee shuts the bathroom door with their back, melds themself against the metal, digging the heels of their palms into their eyes as they let out a dry, heavy, tear-less sob. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale -

The second sob drags up with it hot spittle, sending them coughing and gagging into the sink. It’s that it’s all their own fault for letting him in, for getting comfortable in the first place. That’s what you get when you let Noah in.

How fucking shot in the head do they have to be to expect anything less than this bullshit? Because this isn’t how someone with an ounce of sensibility would handle this, right? RIGHT?! Hey, let’s go trauma dump on this dude who’s never had a kind thing to say to you. Let’s go talk about our feeeeeeelings with the guy who still deadnames you FOUR years after you changed it everywhere. Oh, he gave you a hug? Oh, he shared his little emo feels with you too? Awwww. Ohhhh. Cute. Fucking. Idiot.

Their eyeliner is smeared, their skin blotchy and red, and their hair absolutely refuses to lay well despite all their efforts to make it behave. Under the overly-bright fluorescent lighting, they can see the blue of the vein bulging in their forehead. They look like they’ve been beaten, or fucked, or both at once. Lee swears their reflection grins at them then.

They need to clean themself up and get another drink, and then they need to punch Noah in his stupid, smug, sexy face. Another dry heave works up their throat. No, no, this isn’t right. This is neither healthy nor productive. They can’t keep going on like this, can’t keep allowing themself in situations where the rage literally makes them sick.

Lee sighs, rubbing a hand over their tired face, presentability be damned. They need to go home; just crawl into bed and sleep it off and avoid any gatherings Noah might be at forever. They should probably cut off their mutual friends, too and never step foot in Richmond again, or L.A. for that matter, though they’d never willingly end up in that helltown, anyway.

Home. Bed. Sleep. Never see Noah again.

But when they swing open the bathroom door, he’s on the other side.

There’s a beat as he takes them in, and a small part of Lee thinks, hopes, prays he’ll grant mercy this time. Just this once. Look at me. Please. Mercy.

But prayer’s so unreliable, and Noah is so, so consistent. “Lookin’ good, doll,” mocks the physical manifestation of No Sense Of Time And Place. “Whoa -”

This is it. Their chest is exploding, they can’t breathe, they’ve lost their eyesight. This is how they die.

Noah catches their wrist inches from his face before Lee even realizes they’ve swung.

They let out a hysterical laugh, ripping their arm from his like it’s a third-degree burn, backpedaling so fast from his advance they nearly trip over their own legs.

He’s all, “hey, whoa,” he’s all, “hey, Leanne,” but they’re too busy contending with the fact that each breath feels like a leaf blower full of nails tearing their windpipe. “Leanne, what -” he says, but they knew this wasn’t normal the moment Noah started grabbing at their shoulders, at their face, the moment they couldn’t hear him pleading for them to get themself together. “Leanne, c’mon, Leanne, please,” he’s begging somewhere, but they can’t stop fucking laughing.

God, but doesn’t he sound so tender, so pretty when he pleads?

This isn’t normal, right? Like, what’s that saying about doing the same thing over and over? Right?????? And now there’s godforsaken tears pricking at their eyes and they can’t stop and -

They need him to stop. They need him to shut up, and they need him out of their field of vision. But he keeps getting in front of them, putting his hands on them and Lee wants them off but they can’t feel their hands -

Someone’s released an anguished, animalistic scream somewhere. Everything’s too tight. There’s arms caging them in, they need out, they need escape why are there arms fucking everywhere -

“Fucking, ow!” Noah’s left hand flies up to nurse his jaw where they’d managed to catch him, but the right finds purchase in their hair immediately, like it’s an instinct, like it belongs there. He yanks, hard, forcing their face to his as he crowds them against the sink.

There’s something grounding, calming in the pain at the back of their head, something reassuring in the way he’d tear their hair out at a moment’s notice. He’s so close they can smell the spearmint of the gum he’d been chewing under the liquor and smoke, nose nearly pressed to theirs. His hair tickles their cheekbones like a balm, like a promise.

He’s a vision of fury, all tightly clenched jaw and steely eyes, scrunched nose and furrowed brows. “What the fuck is your problem?” he sternly asks, voice quiet, chillingly flat.

An involuntary, scornful bark of a laugh escapes Lee’s throat. “You wanna know my problem? YOU’RE my fucking problem! I haven’t known a moment of peace since I met you!” they shout through their sob-torn throat. The dam bursts, there’s no stopping this train now, whichever metaphor you prefer. “You’re absolutely insufferable! No regard for anyone but yourself! You wanna know why people leave you in the dust and never look back? Because you’re the fucking worst! You’re a fucking mistake!”

Noah’s mouth twists that smirk again, the one Lee has been on the receiving end of too many times tonight, but there’s no joy behind it; his eyes are empty and cold and tinged red, omnipotent in the weight of his gaze. He doesn’t even need to say it. That cruel twist of his mouth is enough. Takes one to know one.

His lips are on Lee’s in an instant, barely connected for a second before he forces his tongue past their teeth, his free hand wandering anywhere he can reach. His hips push them into the porcelain, fingers brushing up the exposed skin of their belly, hand sliding overtop their binder. A harsh breath huffs out his nose as he passes a thumb over their hard nipple through the thick fabric, pulling a tiny, pathetic whine from Lee’s throat.

There’s a beat when he pulls their head an inch back, hovering by their ear once more, hips giving a miniscule, barely there roll. Then, in a movement so quick Lee can barely acknowledge it happened, he rips their arm round their back, flipping them so fast they’d faceplant into the mirror were it not for the grip he keeps steady on their head, fingers tangled in their hair, nails digging at their scalp. Hips press them into the edge of the sink, fingers pull their head to his shoulder, the arch lighting a tight burn in their spine.

Mirror Lee looks like roadkill, and Mirror Noah looks like the vulture circling round their corpse, towering over them voraciously.

He rolls his hard, clothed cock into the small of their back. “Look at what you do to me,” he croons. A hand trailing fingers dangerously slow up their bare leg. “Look at what a mess you are.” His hand trails lazily from their hair to their throat, nestling there like a puzzle piece fit into place, forcing their gaze on the mirror. “Look at you.” He trails kisses behind Lee’s ear, down their neck, the trail of saliva he leaves behind chilling in the stale air. “Look at you.” His fingers brush their belly. “Look at you.” A kiss on their pulse point. Lee lets out an anxious shudder at the fingers dipping below the waistband of their shorts.

His eyes snap to meet theirs in the mirror, and Lee’s screwed because Noah’s just caught them soaking wet. They can’t force themself to blink, to look away from Noah’s piercing gaze as he slowly, predatorily brings his mouth to their ear. Punctuated by a single flick of their clit, through barely-parted kiss-bruised lips, he whispers: “Slut.”

It’s then their mind catches up to their body, and as their face hits the cold, wet porcelain of the sink bowl, they realize they hadn’t fully caught their breath. They heave as the stoneware digs into the bottom of their ribs, muscles spasming over their whole body as they consciously force them to relax.

The heel of his palm pushes at the base of their skull, his fingers tangling tight in their hair once more, and a single, foreboding finger whispers assurance as it runs down their spine. Cold air on their bare ass as he unceremoniously tears down their shorts and underwear in one fell swoop. His cock prods at their hole and they, body before mind, back against him.

For the warmth, of course.

Nothing more.

That’s definitely not their whine when he slides home with a single snap of his hips, when he pulls out nearly completely, when he snaps back home again with twice the force.

Mercy. What a silly thought to entertain, what a silly plea to beg when you’re begging Noah. Noah doesn’t do mercy. That’s not his modus operandi. Noah winds you up, then puts you down. Like Lee is now. Down. Face down in the sink bowl. Like the stupid, stupid slut they are, in Noah’s own words.

They’ll never get used to the stretch, they think, no matter how many times they fuck Noah. It might be the size of him (though they’ll never admit it to his face, lest it make him grow a second head for sheer lack of space from his already overly-inflated ego), or maybe it’s that he’s just there to get his, and no matter how he fucks - slow, fast, hard, gentle - he’s never thinking about them. And despite that, despite that he’s just jackhammering, shoving their face into the porcelain with force which will surely leave a bruise, the roll of his hips tells them someone cooked here.

There’s no tenderness in the dig of his short, blunt nails into the flesh of their inner thigh, woefully close to where they need him, nor in sticky snap of his hips against their ass, and certainly not in the merciless drag of his heavy cock against that rough patch in them which serves to topple them like a Jenga tower, slowly, shakily, then all at once. They’re so full. So empty. They’re a coin-operated doll, helpless to be broken down and sold for parts on the whim of a single man.

They’re a wet mess, clit so swollen they think it might burst, hands a mess of numb pins and needles. They’re gonna be covered in bruises tomorrow, they’re gonna be so fucking sore when they pee, and for what it’s worth, this shouldn’t feel good at all, but Lee is so fucking close.

Embarrassing.

When Noah’s hips stutter, when his grip releases their head just enough for them to turn their head, he’s got his bottom lip in his teeth and his eyes are squeezed shut and he looks so, so gone (or maybe it’s Lee who’s gone) in the flush of pink running from his cheeks down into his shirt.

That’s not Lee moaning. They’re just trying to catch a breath. But, god, they’re right there, they just need something, they just need more -

Noah freezes, collapsing on them with a short, quiet groan, burying his face in their neck.

His breath is hot, wet, the weight of his heaving chest pressing their ribcage into the porcelain. There's barely a moment of peace before the fingers in their hair tighten once more, pulling their face up to meet his eyes in the mirror.

All it takes is a miniscule shake of Lee’s head for his blissed out gaze to turn stormy once more, for him to drop to his knees.

It’s a race to the finish line the second Noah’s tongue touches Lee’s neglected clit. Quite possibly all their synapses fire at once, all their focus single-mindedly on the way he sucks them, on the calluses on his fingertips as he pads at their hole, on the vibration of a moan they can’t hear.

Lee is jelly. They don’t need to be held down any longer, compliantly staying slumped in the sink, but the soothing scrape of Noah’s nails on their scalp as he presses two fingers in grounds them, turning any distracting thoughts to a static hum tuned to the note of fuck, Noah.

All it takes is a single curl of his fingers, like the press of a button before they’re falling, trembling on an overdose of oxytocin into oblivion.

With a final suck, Noah rises to his feet, bringing a deer-legged Lee with him. They’re dizzy, vision blurred as he turns them gently in his arms. Arousal-coated fingers pry their jaw open, and Noah comes into focus when his hand settles at their throat in an inky-fingered necklace. He forces Lee’s jaw open wider and spits, using the same hand to then cover their mouth. His eyes are wide and wild, rapt as he soothes the saltybitter spend down Lee’s throat. “Look at you, look at that dirty mouth,” he’s mumbling feverishly, voice still deep with arousal. “Look at you swallow that cum. Who else does it for you like this, hm? That’s right. Nobody. Only me.”

Lee chokes out a heaving breath, willing the tears that prick their eyes to not fucking fall, and he deflates, collapsing into their shoulder, arms dropping to circle their waist. “God damn, Leanne,” he sighs after a beat, dulcet and spent.

They glance down uncomfortably. His face is calm, unmarred by the everpresent lines and tension it usually carries, nose buried in their neck. “It’s Lee,” they say.

At least he has the sense to look embarrassed. “Right. Lee.”

They don’t clean themself up, they haven’t the energy. They let Noah pull up their shorts, shuffle them out the bathroom and out the back door, and walk them home.

The streets are quiet, streetlights haloing the street corners in gold, everyone with any sense of decency long-retired to their homes. Lee wonders what they look like from a bird’s eye view, or from outer space, alone together in a grid of light. What do the stars think - would they shame Lee? Would they judge them?

They stroll lazily, Noah’s arm draped round Lee’s shoulder. He looks so at peace, between the half-smile playing at his lips and the way the streetlights illuminate the lashes of his half-closed eyes. Something acrid bubbles in Lee’s chest. At least they get him like this, blissed out and pleasant before they never speak to him again. Before they never -

No. They won’t think about that. Just remember this.

Lee is halfway up the porch stairs before Noah yanks them back by the wrist, catching them from their awkward tumble into his chest. “Give me a call sometime, alright?” he mumbles, grazing the exposed skin between their shorts and shirt. “Don’t be a stranger.”

Their heart stutters. It’s too sweet. It’s too nice. This isn’t right. “Whatever, asshole,” they say. Weakly. Unconvincingly. With the weakest push they’ve got, with no resistance from Noah, they start again on the stairs.

He doesn’t pursue.

“Call me whatever you like,” he laughs. “‘Long as you call me.”

In the morning, through a blinding headache and a metric fuckton of hangxiety, Lee rushes to check their phone the second they pull their face from the pillow.

Among the sea of texts from Noor and Mike, work emails, and bullshit app notifications, there it is: Stupid Silly Man: hey, asshole. My number is still the same, btw.

#bad omens fanfic #noah sebastian fic #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #fern words #noah sebastian fanfiction #nonbinary oc

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canyoufucksoniccharacters · 3 months ago

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Vector the Crocodile (and by proxy, Team Chaotix, but you can just do Vector if that's too much)

Oooh, a fan of Team Chaotix, huh? Well, let's get you fixed up, why don't we? One of them is gonna hog most of the spotlight and it may be exactly the one you think.

Can you fuck Team Chaotix?

... Okay, the first one is incredibly easy. Vector. I would go through his age history, but it's kind of pointless. His original Knuckles' Chaotix bio listed him as 16, and the Heroes manual still unfortunately exists, but that's all completely irrelevant, for one single reason.

If you're not fucking Vector, the local MILF absolutely is. So, he's fuckable, whether you're the one doing it or not.

Well, that one's very easily out of the way. Next, another easy one.

This is a child. Indisputably a child. Most likely younger than Tails. This is an itty bitty. He's playing with crayons. He acts, looks and sounds like a child. Though, I do feel the need to shout out Archie for the batshit insane move of explaining his behavior with actual fucking brain damage because their version was an adult before Heroes came out. This is both incredibly insensitive and poorly handled and incredibly funny for the sheer amount of tonal whiplash.

You may have noticed I didn't go in the order one would normally expect, that from largest to smallest. Vector, then Espio, then Charmy.

And that's because Espio is the most complicated and ambiguous of the three.

Yeah, those two were honestly just a prelude for Espio. He's... Gonna take a bit. From the top.

The manual for Knuckles' Chaotix lists him as 17 years old. Makes enough sense, he's a relatively stoic ninja character so seeing him up there is perfectly reasonable. Strangely, older than Vector...? He's listed as 16 in this manual, which would later be contradicted by another manual. The one we absolutely loathe.

Espio gets bumped down to 16, somehow, and Vector gets bumped up to 20. So, now Espio is the younger of the two, even though the Japanese manual for their debut game had it the other way around...? That's stupid. This manual is stupid. None of it holds any weight. It's bad, mistranslated and made every single age listing up on the spot without any bearing for anything that had come before.

He definitely acts quite mature, about on par with Vector, and the manual that holds the most weight for him lists him as 17 in Classic, which would put him well over the range by present day.

The thing is... Espio could, sincerely, go either way. Because of one little ship.

youtube

Espilver is not only entertained by the writers behind the currently-canon IDW comics, but it's safe to assume their moments together were at least partially inspired by the ship. And, funny enough, the artist who illustrated their one-on-one in said comics ships Espilver and has drawn them together before! It's far from canon, of course, and it holds less weight than something like Sonamy or Sonadow due to how much time those two get to breathe in canon and the degree to which they may be teased (specially the former of the two, on that regard), but it's definitely a factor.

We have determined that Silver's fuckability status is... Dubious, at best. There's a slim chance he might have broken 18 by now, but it's highly unlikely. So, that leaves Espio in a weird spot. There's essentially 3 options here, depending on if you mind the ship getting sabotaged or not. A) Silver is an adult, and so is Espio. Espilver compatible. Requires Silver being an adult, which is unlikely. B) Neither Silver nor Espio are adults. Espilver compatible. Requires Espio not being an adult, which is unlikely but vague enough to be feasible. C) Silver is not an adult, but Espio is. Espilver incompatible. Most likely option.

Honestly, if the ship wasn't so genuinely and unapologetically considered by the people working on IDW, I'd give Espio a surefire absolutely fuckable status, but... As it stands, the ship definitely sort of gets in the way, and makes the whole situation a bit hazy. So, for Espio, I'd say it's up to what you yourself believe. If you're willing to risk Silver potentially being confirmed a minor in the future (which is very likely and he's the likeliest to be a minor out of every non-child covered so far), you can both have Espilver and have them fuck. If you want to fuck Espio and have no regard for Espilver, then he's a decently safe pick. If you don't want to risk it with Silver but still want Espilver, then Espio is probably off-limits for you.

... Does this make sense? It probably doesn't. Whatever. Let's give him a half-fuck for now.

So, that about settles it. The answer to the question of if you can fuck Team Chaotix is:

TEAM CHAOTIX, AS A WHOLE, HAVE ABOUT 1.5/3 FUCKABILITY POINTS. You can fuck Vector the Crocodile, you might be able to fuck Espio the Chameleon, and you absolutely cannot fuck Charmy Bee.

... This one was fun, ngl. Espio took up most of it, but tackling them as a group just feels right.

#group assessment #vector the crocodile #charmy bee #espio the chameleon #sonic the hedgehog #sth #Team Chaotix

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my-rose-tinted-glasses · 1 year ago

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I guess, this week It's my turn to rant about this show. I said I wanted more in this show about the time travel, but this was not what I had in mind. I've got no idea what is actually happening at this point. I give up. (not the show, I'm committed now) But I'm just gonna stop making theories regarding the time traveling aspect because I just can't make sense of this. Not just in terms of the time travel itself, but also in what the story is trying to tell us. I need something to hold on to, to care. Also, how is this only episode 8? How are there 4 more? According to the preview, we can look forward to some more crying. Just in case, we were starting to miss it this week. Yes, I guess I was shocked for like half a second this episode, which, by the way, was the strongest reaction this show has provoked in me the last, maybe, 4 episodes. (if we don't count the constant eye rolling and exasperated sighs that are now par for the course.) And then it all came back to me. WHY? What was the point? What are are they all trying to do at this point. And how will this make any sense? Are they just going to continuing going back and fourth trying to sacrifice each other for the sake of the other when in the end it seems someone will cry for a whole episode? And future versions are going to pop up to tell them they made the wrong choice? Seriously. I need someone to tell me. I need someone to explain it to me like I'm four. Cause maybe it's me. Maybe the show is making complete sense and I'm just too dense. This episode was like the reverse of the last one. We saw some of the same scenes of the adult couple but now with new information. Even with the adult couple moments, which although mostly repeated, were cute, I am unmoved. The best thing this episode is definitely Adult Ongsa(both of them). The comparison between the two adults is unavoidable and Adult Ongsa is so much more interesting in the driver seat imo. Anyway, since there are maybe 4 people watching this show at this point, I thought I'd share some thoughts. Also for those who aren't watching, I'll leave with this so you can get as confused as the rest of us.

#i'm feeling extra dumb #i won't give up now #but this show is really testing my resolve #absolute zero #rose rambles

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roobylavender · 10 months ago

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im really sorry if this question ends up being repetitive: but, if not for bruce’s over reliance on dick to regulate his thoughts and emotions, why would dick grow up into feeling like he needs to repress his emotions so much and his eagerness to act as people’s support? i know youve spoken about wolfman and his altering of their relationship but if ntt is generally an accurate portrayal of an adult dick, to me this nevertheless sounds like the consequences a parent-child relationship where the responsibilities are titled too much towards the child

i suppose this could also segue into asking for recs that would help me better understand your interpretation of their relationship 👀

not repetitive at all! to me the irony of wolfman's depiction of dick lies in that it is simultaneously something you can logically ascertain from prior canon but not for the reasons actually presented by wolfman. if that makes sense. he does extra work that isn't actually necessary to help explain why dick would act the way that he does because there's plenty of reasons for it without rewriting his history with bruce to have always been suppressed and edgy and dark. to me it makes far more sense to capitalize on the inevitable disconnect between bruce and dick as an adult and a child. batman: full circle is a good example of that dichotomy (and although it was published in the early 90s it built on mike w. barr's prior understanding of the relationship between dick and bruce that he wrote into the early 80s). bruce's primary concern for the people he works with is never standards or finesse but safety. he worries constantly about others coming to harm under his watch and with a child in particular those worries were exacerbated. he ran a tight ship not because he believed dick had anything to prove but because the only way dick could keep being robin was if he went about it safely. that was obv easy for an adult to understand. but not so much for a child

to bruce these worries were practical and par for the course (as well as an expression of his love and protectiveness) but for dick their consequences formed the crux of his entire world. as a child he idolized everything about bruce. his heroism. his work ethic. his skill. his resolve. his preparedness. if dick couldn't live up to the standard he set for himself in idolizing bruce then what could he ever hope to amount to? that was the thought constantly going through his head. and it's why the bulk of his childhood and primary tenure as bruce's partner was so precariously protected by the fact that nothing bad ever really happened during it (and admittedly this framing is convenient because even chronologically speaking nothing very significant happened in their history with each other until dick left for university in 1969) (i know dixon opted to write that whole shtick with dent in his version of events but personally i never found it necessary to do so). there is enough there in the idea of dick working hard for the course of a decade to embody who he believed bruce to be that lends itself to it eventually being difficult for him to healthily express himself once the rift between them actually began to emerge

because what about bruce was there to actually see that was broken and dark before dick became an adult? i know a lot of dick fans hate batman #408 because they don't like that it enforced "retirement" upon dick (which i personally believe is a conclusion they come to because of the way batman #416 re-framed the same scene) but to me that's an inaccurate reading of the text. batman #408 was about bruce (admittedly far too belatedly) recognizing that he could not in good conscience continue to ask dick to go out and be a vigilante on what he considered to be his own "orders". he viewed dick's close call with death at the hands of the joker as something directly of his own making. although their tenure with each other had been wonderful if dick wanted to continue to be a vigilante it had to be on his own terms and of his own volition. obv that was logical to bruce and it was something dick managed to accept in the moment. but it's still hard to go from always having a purpose alongside someone you idolized to finally being entrusted entirely to forge your own

in general i like the idea of dick the adult becoming privy to all of the personal problems and conflicts that come with being a vigilante. he was conveniently shielded from a lot of those problems as a child because all he had to do was be bruce's partner and hope to live up to the title. bruce had no reason to trauma dump on him or talk about his worries and concerns at length with him because it was never supposed to be dick's job to field those worries and concerns in the first place. he was a child. the only thing bruce wanted to do was to help channel his emotions through an outlet and provide him with a home to grow up in. but when you become an adult often that dynamic shifts. you're still not responsible for fielding those worries and concerns but you can perhaps be trusted with them. that's why i like the framing in batman #408 of dick now being a man. it's a subtle way to frame the double-edged sword of adulthood. the world is in your hands now but so will be the horrors that come with it. coming to terms with the real world that bruce lives in should be hard for dick. coming to terms with who bruce is when he's not perfect should be hard. coming to terms with how quietly bruce kept his grief because he did not see fit to overwhelm a child with it should be hard. that dichotomy of dick both wanting to be bruce's brother and his son should form the crux of their conflict with each other because you can't hope to be someone's equal and someone's protected at the same time in that kind of relationship. for dick to transition into the position of equal he has to expose himself to the fact that bruce is not in fact an idol but someone irrevocably human. and that should interfere significantly with his head and his own standards for himself

#all of this to say. i don't think it's so much about pre-ntt canon directly predicating ntt-dick's characterization #like it's not these events happened in the 60s and 70s so that's why he acts this way in the 80s #it's more the opposite. because these things Didn't happen in the 60s and 70s. that's why being on his own in the 80s is hard #dick wants so badly to be bruce's equal and an adult and a leader and someone trusted by others #but those are all things easier said than done. and the worst tragedy of it is that the bruce dick knows from childhood #is not the bruce he knows in adulthood. they are from the same person. but they are still different #because there are things dick is allowed to see as an adult that bruce spared him from when he was a child #and on one hand that was the right thing to do. but on the other hand it's devastating. because dick obv doesn't know how to cope #how do you cope with the fact that your decade-long idol is not in fact what you made him up to be #(and the thing is it's not that bruce isn't what dick made him up to be) (it's that he's also other things)#(he's sad. he's guilty. he's exhausted. sometimes he doesn't know how to go on)#reconciling with those realities should be unbearable for dick. because being robin has given him so much purpose #and while being batman gives bruce purpose too there are also so many times where he absolutely bends under the weight of it #and that sight should be frightening to dick #that's why i really like knightfall. or the potential of it because i mean prodigal did not deal with the aftermath of it #in a way that i liked at all. it was quite underwhelming #and then you guys obv know my issues with the framing of dick's reaction to jason's death and his conversation with bruce there #but the idea of dick needing to cope with bruce being a human capable of breaking under his own imposed duties is impt #and so my reading of their relationship is less about things written explicitly in text and more about drawing logical inferences #idk. i feel like i am all over the place i'm not sure if this sufficiently answers your question i'm sorryjgfkldghf #outbox

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danganronpasurvivoraskblog · 3 months ago

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Alright time to give my verdict and opinions on the dishonourable mentions.

1-1: The reason the 11037 clue is obvious to us is because of localisation messing things up, as the idea of 11037 being LEON in English was still the case in the Japanese version. While English is known and taught in Japan, obviously its a secondary language and not everyone will know it is it’s quite a tricky first clue as it requires knowledge in another language.

To put it in Western terms, imagine if the clue to a killer was in French or Spanish. But of course when the game was translated this didn’t get touched so as such the 11037 clue becomes extremely obvious to us.

I also note Leon’s execution is more on the brutal side compared to the rest of the franchise because it’s a remnant of his old Distrust execution where aside from a few minor changes it’s more or less the same.

Sayaka’s death was obvious now, but if you were a first time player getting into Danganronpa for the first time, it might catch you off guard, and especially how Sayaka was planning to backstab Makoto. Really sets the tone of this franchise.

Overall it’s a decent introduction.

1-5: Yeah I agree compared to how phenomenal the other Chapter 5s are this is the odd one out and kinda feels like part 1 of the finale. While it’s the first and only chapter to have alternative endings depending on your choices, I do wish other games did this but to my knowledge none have.

Also there’s a bunch of nonsensical stuff that happens such as Makoto get le flu, and yeah Mukuro wasn’t handled well neither does this show Junko in a good tactical light as it seems likely she’s panicking.

Neitherless to say when I get to Chapter 5 in my AU, it’s is gonna be one that’s get a complete rework to be more on par with other titles Chapter 5.

3-3: What pisses me off the most, aside from how Korekiyo was completely character assassinated, is that this was a Chapter 3 which had the greatest potential to not suck. Angie and her cult was shaping up to be a compelling antagonistic force, Monodam did a coup, there’s the idea of bringing a dead character back to life, we didn’t see a second body before Angie’s and the idea of a double killer.

But of course all of that didn’t happen, the Student Council died with Angie, Monokuma got his groove back and got back in the driver’s set, nobody was revived and Tenko dies in the investigation. Heck even that had potential since I had the idea that maybe Tenko was Angie’s killer as she and Angie might have gotten into a heated argument and the former killed the latter, and maybe the reason she decided to be the “spirit medium” in Korekiyo’s seance was because she sensed it was a trap and not only offered herself to save Himiko, but also because she knew she would die in a execution so this would be going out on her own terms. And then with the double killer rule, Korekiyo would be around in Chapter 4 for interesting character dynamics.

Before Chapter 3 I was really liking Korekiyo as he struck me as a very interesting character due to how philosophical and knowledge he seemed, and being fascinated with humanity in general. Granted I saw him as a Chapter 3 Killer a mile away since that philosophy of is was the same shallow motives killers tend to have but even my ideas or the fake spoilers where he did it because he hates religion, would be better then…incest.

Now granted Korekiyo is my least disliked of the serial killers but that’s only because a) the whole V3 plot twist so there’s a good chance the real Kiyo wasn’t a serial killer, b) the implication how abusive his relationship with his sister is and c) I have the feeling if you sat Kiyo down and told him how problematic his relationship with his sister was, he would actually stop and turn himself in.

The biggest crime with 3-3 though is that it’s the reason A2-3 is a thing. And that is inexcusable and it’s why I say Korekiyo killed 6 people; Angie, Tenko, himself, Setsuka and the Otonokoji Twins.

Here’s hoping you redeem him big time in Survivor Season 3.

A1-3: Thanks to Timeline Anon, everytime I think of this case the Spooky Mormon Hell Dream song plays in my head. Kinji is probably the most sympathetic of the Chapter 3 culprits but given the extremely low bar that has been set that isn’t saying much. And still he had every chance to stop when he killed Kakeru especially as the Lawyer told him to spare Kanata, and since she was knocked out it wasn’t as if she seen him or anything. Why he still carried on, the only reason is the whole idea Chapter 3s must have double victims.

Hey LINUJ here’s a groundbreaking revolutionary idea, how about you don’t do that? I know the Danganronpa formula says double victims in Chapter 3 but it’s a guideline not a absolute rule. And also Kanata’s death was too brutal for the sake of being brutal.

I do know that Chapter 3 was riddled with development issues as apparently LINUJ was having severe computer problems during the production of Chapter 3, and so maybe there was other ways it could have gone but technology issues meant some corners had to be cut. I do wonder if Kanata being brutally shocked to death was LINUJ venting his frustrations with how much the laptop was crashing on him. Let’s face it, you probably wanted to throw a malfunctioning laptop into a pool when you get mad it’s not working.

This like 3-3 had the potential to not suck but it missed the mark.

A2-2: Oh I’m so glad I’m not the only one who loathes this chapter.

Emma being the culprit was a interesting touch and the way she used her talent was really creative, so I do give her massive credit there and it could have been a good trail…had Kanade decided to not fuck with the class trial formula.

If you don’t know what I’m talking about in my opinion Class Trials go like this;

Introduction- The case opens and basic info is talked about. Things like murder weapon, time of death, stuff like that.

False Accusation- Someone is falsely accused of being the culprit, and thus the protagonist clears their name.

Mystery solving- This is where all the tricks and gimmicks are unravelled and at the end the true culprit is found. Longest part of the trial here.

Culprit Breakdown- Exposed, the culprit will fight to prove they are innocent and the protagonist needs to prove they are the only one who could have done it.

Conclusion- Protagonist rips the culprit’s clothes off, draws a comic to summarises the case, everyone votes, culprit says last words, execution.

So with that you can see the problem, Emma is in the falsely accused yet she isn’t falsely accused so we skip two entire parts, which disrupts the flow of the trial and makes it terrible.

The icicle puzzle is the most moronic thing ever as there was an easy fix, just replace the O with M and then it would be obvious what the dying message was. Maybe Kanade was the first one to realise this but still give the others a chance to think.

Plus yeah Kanade is the single worst thing about the trial as I suppose this was LINUJ trying to show she’s smart but in reality she comes off as only knowing stuff because the script gave her the answers.

And that wouldn’t be the last chapter she ruins either.

A2-3: Yeah this is the single worst chapter among the canon and Another series and it doesn’t even come close. This is what happens when you take a already bad case from canon and emulate for no fucking reason.

It’s part of SDRA2’s unholy trio of bad chapters alongside Chapters 4 and 6. And it’s a complete trainwreck of a chapter that I’m not looking forward to playing when the English dub for it comes out.

Since more educated people then me have already explored in depth why this is a horseshit of a chapter I will say the following. Firstly the length of A2-3’s Class Trial as long as the entirety of Danganronpa 3. I’m almost tempted to do a race to see if someone can watch all of Danganronpa 3 or get Kanade executed first.

And yes half of that length is Kanade and Syobai in a bitchfight. Given how Syobai has been very passive the last two class trials, him actually contributing to a class trial should be a big deal, but it really isn’t which pisses me off.

LINUJ also always attended for the Otonokoji twins to be a pair and be double killers, but the original draft before V3 got involved was that the twins would have a extremely toxic relationship and that Kanade would have had hidden resentment for Hibiki. That if explored would be much better then what we got.

The fact this is the only chapter to include motives also confuses me as wasn’t Mikado’s whole spiel was that with the Voids in place, there was no need for motives so what gives? I know Iroha was dragging her heels in this Chapter but I would have much preferred it if Mikado was pressuring Iroha to kill, and something else happened to push Hibiki into a state where Kanade could execute her murder plan.

Finally I also uncovered something which I don’t like talking about as I’m still unsure if this is true or not, and I need to look into it more closely, but if it’s true, then it makes this chapter even worse as it crosses a massive ethical line which is completely intolerable by any means.

This chapter was also the start of massively disrupting the plot flow of this game which is a big reason why in the end SDRA2 doesn’t turn out that great of a story. I do really wonder what a rewrite of this chapter which removes the V3 emulation in favour of something original would be.

Anyway long ramblings later and I’m done. Obviously once we start the countdown I won’t be talking as long as it’s just one chapter per day.

//Sometimes I forget you type a lot, lol. But yeah, here's what I have to say to this.

//Sayaka planning to betray Makoto was the biggest plot twist of Trial 1, and easily its standout moment. Even though I think Sayaka gets hated on way too much for what I think is a reasonable reaction to finding out the people you love the most in the world might be in danger if you don't do something, it's still shocking that, despite the genuine connection she had with Makoto, that she would do this. I'm not doubting any of that. But the stupid thing about 11037 doesn't make sense even for the Japanese version, because these students are Japanese. Why would Sayaka write Leon's name in ENGLISH!? And no, before anyone says "She probably thought that even if Leon discovered the message, she thought he might not be able to read English," because no, that's bullshit. These are Japanese students, she would write his name as "Kuwata" in a realistic situation, and even if she did write it in English, she would not use the English spelling. The Japanese language doesn't have an "L" sound, and it just doesn't make any sense to me that Sayaka wrote his name in a language that everyone else may or may not speak, and also what the fuck was she gonna do if Leon DID find the message and COULD speak English? It kind of just feels like a stretch.

//As for 1-5, the only other game I think on this ranking that had more than one ending was Another 1. But that switch happened in Trial 6, and it comes down to whether you want the bad ending if you keep Yuki as Yuki, or the true ending if you awaken Utsuro. 1-5 doesn't make it into the official ranking because it's a poorly structured case, but at the same time, the issue is there's a limit to how structured it can be when it's entire reason for existing is to BE a rushed and stupid case that was coupled together as an excuse to get Kyoko killed. Also, unfortunate as it is, Mukuro being handled very poorly is a very common thing in the Danganronpa series. IF is legitimately the only time she is shown genuine respect as a character in her own right.

//Trust me, I fully intend to do with Kiyo what I did with every other character, and that's show them for their truest and most honest qualities that don't make them objectively suck. And also, I don't blame Kiyo and Case 3 of V3 for what happened with Another 2 Case 3; I blame LINUJ for ever thinking it was a good idea to scrap his original plan and copy it. But yeah, that is generally the biggest issue with V3-3, in that it opens the gate for a trial that could be MARGINALLY different than anything else we've gotten so far, and yet it decides to stick to the bullshit formula anyway. I think I do genuinely need to make an entire analysis of everything behind Case 3 of V3 and why I so utterly despise it, but something I think I failed to really get across is that my biggest issue out of every problem I have with the case is how several key plot points feel underdeveloped or fail to reach their potential. First, the cult-like situation surrounding Angie's Student Council isn't resolved before Kiyo kills her, leaving that subplot hanging. The chapter's motive, a Necronomicon capable of resurrecting a dead student, is removed before it can significantly impact the story. This motive had the potential to introduce a unique dynamic to the game’s usual motives, which rarely repeat across the series. Even the Chapter 2 motive videos, while similar in premise, introduced the twist of being deliberately mismatched. Unfortunately, the Necronomicon serves only as a murder clue, sidelining its intriguing possibilities. Another major event in this chapter is Monodam’s apparent coup, where he uses the Exisals to seize control from Monokuma. However, this development is abruptly reversed after Tenko’s death, with Monokuma regaining his authority without resistance. And of course, as you mentioned, one of the most intriguing but ultimately unrealized ideas comes during the trial, where Monokuma reveals a new rule that we've never recieved before; if there are two killers, only the first murderer; the one who killed Angie in this case; would be punished, allowing the second killer, who murdered Tenko, to go free. This scenario could have created immense tension within the group, as someone known to be a killer would still be part of their daily lives. Unfortunately, this potential is squandered when it’s revealed that Kiyo committed both murders, negating the possibility of exploring this rule further. These missed opportunities contribute to the chapter's narrative shortcomings. Despite its interesting setup, the story opts for simpler resolutions, leaving characters like Kiyo underutilized and, for some, frustratingly unredeemable.

//Funnily enough, if that stuff about LINUJ's laptop being a part of it is true, that's actually a mood and that kind of fixes my issues a little bit. I'm still pissed that Kanata died in such a brutal and also pointless way, but that's just funny. But yeah, I don't have much to say about this; other than that one thing that made Another so famous so quickly is the stuff that it did differently than the original series, so it's not very enjoyable when it decides to stick to the dumb formula as well. Ironically, Case 3 of Another 2 subverted it, but had two killers instead of two victims, which would have been way more interesting had the killers not been the twins, who were very obvious candidates for this kind of case.

//To be honest, I was actually super scared that people were gonna get on my ass for hating on A2-2, so I'm glad that you have my back on this. The sad part of this one is that this case sucks, but I really WANT to like it. It's just by far the worst paced and worst structured trial in the history of Danganronpa and Fanganronpa, and I don't know how LINUJ managed to get away with it. In a realistic setting, not every trial has to follow that structure, and there can be cases where the obvious suspect really is the killer. The only issue is that this is not real life, it's a game, and these trials have structure, so as you and I both said, aboutt 15% of this trial is finding out who the culprit is, and the rest of it is just fucking YAPPING because Emma is a stubborn bitch, and her motive as a VOID, while I later become sympathetic of her, does not justify this bullshit. And yeah, my God, Kanade REALLY thinks SHE'S the protagonist, doesn't she?

//I don't really want to talk about Chapters 4 and 6 because they're on the actual list and I have a much better opinion of them than I think most people do, but that's largely because of the mystery and not because of the writing. Still, if that's the case and if that's how people feel, that effectively means only Chapter 1 of SDRA2 is considered good and that's a HUUUUUGE yikes! I will, however, say that I am SOMEWHAT looking forward to the dub of Chapter 3, because despite our reservations about Kanade, Eli is the fucking GOAT, and does a REALLY good job selling her lines. I don't know if I've ever said this, but as a killer, it kind of feels like Kanade is an unholy amalgamation of all the Chapter 3 killers, Celeste, Mikan, and Kiyo, in certain ways. Celeste because of her two-faced nature that she can kind of switch on and off whenever she wants, Mikan because she guises herself as someone innocent and to be bullied by Hibiki the same way Mikan is with Hiyoko, and Kiyo because she's a sistercon serial killer who have a love-hate relationship with her sister that she will, and has, murdered countless people for. So yeah, she's basically every bad killer in the main series squished into one horrific package, and I do not see how LINUJ could have EVER thought this was a good idea. I get that he thinks differently than we do, but...come on...at least CONSIDER it. Speaking of which, that idea of Kanade having a hidden resentment for Hibiki and her toxicity towards her is remarkably similar to how I've always felt about Hiyoko and Mikan's relationship, and how Mikan didn't actually kill Hiyoko to get back at her, or because she snapped, but for something infinitely more idiotic. It's the exact same case here. Even more unfortunate, I feel even if he had gone that route, it wouldn't have saved this for me, because the Otonokoji Twins literally EXIST to be double murderers, and its so obvious by the fact that they are twins in the first place, but what makes it unforgiveable for me is that only one of these twins, the worst one at that, is given any kind of development, and Hibiki is legitimately just canon fodder. I would have cared about this case more had Hibiki not been reduced to basically a murder weapon, and dicked over by Kanade. It's no wonder Bubbles treats her like a queen, because she fucking deserved it after all this. And it's only thanks to him that I even like Hibiki because she is such an abhorrantly written character, and by far the WORST handled in ANY of these games.

//But yeah, thank you for leaving a review. Please send me more stuff, I would love to have more conversations about this. Not just with RA, but with literally anybody.

//Also, if you don't feel comfortable talking about that thing, then you can DM me if you want.

-Mod

#mod

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lafcadiosadventures · 1 year ago

Text

Madame Putiphar Groupread. Book Two, Chapter XXXIII

The Parc-aux-Cerfs makes a stage entrance via our disgusting main libertines's secret schemeing meeting (as always, sensitive content is discussed within)

{check my friends and fellow readers's posts as well-> @sainteverge and @counterwiddershins }{pro tip: sainteverge is translating this lexical goliath here, Even if you can read it in french, their verson usually has very interesting footnotes and research you cannot find in the online french versions}

[x]

Not to be redundant but formaly speaking this is one of the theatrical dialogue chapters. Borel makes his dolls talk with each other, the narrator makes zero interventions.

We have the rare pleasure of an intimate glimpse into Villepastour's and Putiphar's secret reunion...

Our two friends (like Saint-Ange and Dolmancé, or Valmont and Merteuil, but even less likeable somehow) are together because Villepastour wants to be paid back for the help he has given Putiphar in the Patrick affair.

Our borelesian libertines are hypocrites. If the sadian duo had their own mansion and boudoir to speak as freely as they wanted and rip as many social conformity masks as they wished, Villepastour and Putiphar do the contrary. Even in private they feign offended morality, especially Putiphar.

She intends to make Villepastour believe Patrick has dishonoured her “up to the waist”. (the “woman pretends to be raped by the guy who rejected her” trope is pretty disgusting, do better Borel) Villepastour humours her and goes off in a rant full of mock puritan indignation. Interesting concepts in his speech are: “contagious” people, who spread their noxious mores among the Court and the City... who are these contagious people? Foreigners? Not really, but Villepastour is keen on demonizing foreigners during this whole chapter. It's Readers of Philosophy, apparently. The Philosophers (aka the french Enlightnement gang, most of whom had been in jail or in exhile) had corrupted France irreparably, causing according to Villepastour, children to need wet nurses out of their own sheer perversion, among other things. The philosophers had gone too far in their attempt to shake off prejudices, they have shaken virtue as well.

(I will always remark how much influence the french enlightenment, CERTAIN TEXTS of the French Enlightenment have had to many romantic authors. Within the petit cénacle, Nerval was a huge admirer of Diderot's Jacques le fataliste, of Rétif de la Bretonne's Parisian Nights, Borel has some Diderotian turns of phrase in Passereau, and names "Jacques" in Medianoche, seems to be in a constant dialogue with some of Rousseaus works in Passereau and in Madame Putiphar... Gautier was an admirer of Diderot's Salons, and followed his conversational and passionate school of art criticism, beging to go against artistic and moral conventions. The Enlightenment is of course, what the Romantics were reacting against, but. Hastag notalllumières. The secret, posthumously published fictions of Diderot, those transgressive texts he didn't dare to publish for fear of being incarcerated a second time, seem like a crucial key to undertsand where some of the interests of the young Romantics came from. He is even part of the inspiration behind Schiller's Rauber, and with it, the Romantic Outlaw trope. Don't sleep on Diderot is what i'm saying, his influence is vast and his secret texts are not what his more divulged writings would lead you to think he is)

That last paragraph about Virtue is interesting because, on the one hand, OH THE HYPOCRISY. You can totally imagine the ironic tones in which these two speak of Virtue, how disgustingly they accuse mere children of being perverse. On the other, it's always interesting to see how the elites will seek for a scapegoat: philosophers in this case. And I also like how Putiphar, who is shown to be a fan of the enlightenmet in previous chapters (owns a Rousseau volume that Patrick uses against her) likes the Philosophes only when they are useful to her (once they go too far in their challenges to her class, she cracks a whip and it's off to jail/exhile for them) Remember how Borel spoke of her being a benefactress to the Philosophes because it gave her power, it provided her with intelligent people who were indebted to her/therefore in her service.

So these two delightful fellas continue their tête-à-tête, the marquis complains about Deborah to Putiphar, he wants her arrested. Why, asks madame Putiphar, when raping her would be so much simpler -she is now alone- and less of a boureaucratic hassle, surely. (men she says, can always triumph over women, “courage, marquis!”, noone is un-rapeable, even if she pretends to be so)(the marquis knows that the fact that Patrick is away is almost irrelevant since Deborah has been more than capable of defending herself, but he conveniently keeps silent.)

So, given that Debby is an “impenetrable” fortress, Madame Putiphar reasures him “don't worry, we will form her” (Putiphar, like the marquis before her and like many Sade characters, insists that sex is a discipline one has to be enlightened on, by force if necesary...)

The marquis does a description of Debby's "English hipocrisy" that is so appealing to frenchmen who are too accustumed to their women's shamelessness, (very hitchcock to truffault's definition of english vs latin beauties core)(but we don't need to go back to the 60's... this stereotype is alive and well)

So Putiphar claims that her Punishment for Deborah will be Educating her, forming her... the Marquis should know by now what she means, but he cannot tell..

Putiphar explains she is worried her enemies are pushing a new favorite to turn the King against Pompadour. She is certain she is not as witty to hold his attention for long, as she has. And the Parc-aux-Cerfs is pretty barren at the moment, only a couple of young girls are being trained in it (and when Borel writes young, he means it, after the first period in which the parc was mostly populated by soldier's widows forced to sexually satisfy the king, the royal person became fearful of syphilis, so he started demanding children, girls aged between 12 and 14 years)(this is all real, Borel has been accused of demonizing Pompadour but she was actually involved in this, at least during the initial period of the Parc, and she was well aware of what happened in it, since it was strategically beneficial for her to be the author of the king's pleasures even if it was by proxy. It is important to recognize that many Romantic novels, while melodramatic and exagerated if you will, root their fantasies in facts and have the intention of denouncing real forgotten horrors from a ruling class that had managed to return to power like reventants, after the french revolution, with no long lasting punishment for their crimes...)

Villepastour is delighted by the perverse perfection of the idea. Pompadour is weary Deborah, being so beautiful and intelligent, will grow ambitious and become a threat.

Villepastour says this is out of the question, since she is a prude and a peniless foreigner (it doesn't follow but ok) her pride is more of a potential threat, but there is no one The Madame cannot break in, Pompadour reasures him. She has tamed the most rebellious of them...

Pomp commands some henchman to kidnap deborah, in the meantime she makes out with Villepastour and invites him to dine with her. Cruelty is the ultimate aphrodisiac, but more importantly, a tool of government.

------

annex:

first hand source on the children of the parc aux cerfs. even this person who intends to rescue the king from very partial anti-royalist historians (Michelet), considers this a reliable, dispassionate source (a source brought to light by Michelet himself)(Michelet accuses the king of being sadistic, wilfully harming the children. The fact that this man thinks it's all good since the children were "not virgins, but sluts" and there are no historical accounts depicting the king hitting them makes it all ok.... is beyond me)

20 février 1756 … …Le roi se livre à la nature, et cherche à se ragoûter par de petites filles très-neuves qu' on lui fait venir de Paris. Il se pique d' emporter des p... de quinze ans. On lui amena, il y a quelques jours, une petite fille de cet âge qui était à peine vêtue ; il s' enrhuma à la poursuivre dans le lit et hors du lit. Cependant, il fait du bien à ces petites créatures, et, s' il se comporte en paillard, il ne fait rien en ceci contre l' honnête homme. L' on dit que le Sieur Lebel, son grand pourvoyeur, est sur le côté, et l' on ne sait qui a procuré sa disgrâce….

Journal et mémoires du marquis d'Argenson Vol. 9. 1755-1757. [2] publ... pour la Société de l'histoire de France par E.-J.-B. Rathery

#madame putiphar #long post #text post #i am always grateful for the angry side of romanticism. motecristo putiphar goriot. i've learnt so much about power abuse via them #i am aware it's fiction thank you very much. but i love the combination of high drama + very real denounciation of historical injustices

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