#God it could be so good. So good. And I'm not talking about in specific to me‚ which yes that too given the topics‚

[zenoxonslibrary]

Entire Transcript of "This Anime is Offensive by Scamboli Reviews":

The internet is quite pissed by this. This anime was shot, scripted in AI, generated by Corridor Digital. You know those guys? They did real-life Minecraft, Dark Souls, Halo, Mario—they even showed a real live woman at some point. Corridor got their hands on Stable Diffusion, it's this AI that… I don't know, does AI? But it was sloppy, so they clashed heads, did research, and two months later, we got an eight-minute-long short film produced by people who never had to pick up a pen. Imagine RDC getting their hands on this—the kids that will run around doing crazy sketches. Never before has animation been more accessible to the average person. And never before has that extremely specific demographic of white dudes that are extremely active on Twitter, with thick-ribbed glasses and beards, been more angry. And that… that made me so mad on so many levels.

Here's the thing: on one hand, I think AI is terrifying, and I want it to go away. On the other, I know that it won't go away and that screaming at excited nerds will do absolutely nothing. I'm not an AI technician, nor am I extremely smart, but God put me on this Earth to talk about things I know nothing about. I would like to discuss why people are angry, who's angry, and share my perspective on this whole ordeal. And to do that, we're gonna have to watch a video made by Mother's Basement.

Mother's Basement hates this. "I am insulted, and so should you." Jeff is an anime YouTuber that has been on the platform long before I have. He's part of a small group of creators who pioneered this niche to where it is today. In his video, Jeff makes some very valid points about the grim future that could lie ahead of AI… and zero good points about what Corridor has to do with that. Like, this dude for real said: "This video? It's not art. Not." Jeff will not call this video art. In fact, he doesn't consider anything AI-generated to be art. And I actually agree with that last part. Art is an expression of human creativity. As soon as a machine does the walking, you're already lost. Millions of photos—regardless of copyright or if the author likes it—are used to train these AI. They teach it to guess which colors and shapes go where on a grainy image. Not only is this overpowered as hell, but it, by itself, is devoid of creativity, which is derived from our personal experiences and biases. Jeff, I'm with you 100% when you say this… but you have to stop yourself from… from… ugh, talking.

If you're gonna be out—I know some dipstick will jump down to the comments to say—"The only difference between an AI reproducing an art style and a human artist doing it is the time it takes." Now, wait a minute, hold on. I just don't think this is a very well-coded comment. What you said is not funny enough to be that rude. If you're gonna be a dick, hide it with as much humor as possible, like what I'm doing.

There's a part of this video where he's like, "If they were interested in making something with even a shred of artistic legitimacy, they could have hired an artist or two to draw up the model sheets their AI would use. But instead, they just went and stole a bunch of frames from Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust and trained their computer." Someone better call the cops! This is where anime YouTubers do our job—we steal frames. We just take clips of anime and talk over them. But Jeff, you and I are artists. We transform the work we talk about; we reshape it with the aid of our personal experiences. I don't think you can be on the side of anime abridged and critique AMVs but flip as soon as someone uses software that digitally collages that same content.

To say that Corridor made something without a shred of artistic legitimacy is disingenuous. This team had a vision they wanted to achieve, so Corridor problem-solved. They combined the discoveries of multiple users to get this AI looking the way they wanted. They had to tune the hell out of it, write a short film, voice act, normal act, buy costumes, teach the AI what they look like, turn those photos into anime images, pop open Unreal Engine to set up a bajillion cameras with different angles so they could superimpose their animated bodies onto a new environment. And even then, they had to add so many things in post. Storytelling, acting, editing, videography—if you don't think the convergence of all these skills is art, then I don't value your opinion on this topic.

And then there's those sassy fingers. I don't like those sassy fingers. And B, how come every time you call this video an anime, you got to use air quotes? "Anime" looks like ass. You made a video called Avatar is an Anime. "Avatar is an anime?" Fight me. You of all people should not be doing the sassy fingers.

In that video, he made the point that anime is a movement—an artistic movement within the medium of animation, not unlike post-modernism or the French New Wave in film. Everything that makes anime anime—the big-eyed aesthetic, the over-the-top action, the mature themes, the overt sexuality—is a part of that movement. The line between anime and not anime is gray. It doesn't even have to be hand-drawn or made in Japan anymore. So if it looks like anime, sounds like anime, and is written like an anime, what's stopping it from being anime?

There's this video of Aaron Blaise, a dude who animates for Disney, reacting to Corridor's behind-the-scenes. Numerous times, he stops the video and points out, "Yo, that's just like how we made Snow White." "No, it's not too different than what we did on Beauty and the Beast." "We shot reference a lot." AI doesn't write the script, make a story, or rotoscope itself. This is an art form—an art form that is very distinct from all other animation we've seen. If you want to call it animation, it's constantly rotoscoped. It has some jank messed-up hands, and yeah, it's got the hands garbled, monster faces, and not to mention their six-fingered thumbnail. Okay, I don't think this will replace animators in the same way that CGI didn't replace animators. But who knows?

Tech is evil. Recently, I visited ChatGPT for the first time, and within 15 minutes, it had quoted Biggie Smalls saying, "I'm slamming like a dungeon dragon, coming around the corner with the gangster lean." Biggie Smalls has never said that. So then I asked it to write the description of a pickle but as a Dark Souls 3 item: "Era, this pickle has withstood the test of time. Once used as a means of preserving food, it now serves as a reminder of the fleeting nature of life. Consume it to restore a small amount of health, but beware the potential side effects of consuming a food item of unknown age and origin." Yeah, in about five years, these things are replacing me.

When I talk about AI, I don't want anyone to be under the impression that I don't sympathize with everyone whose jobs are in jeopardy. I'm scared as hell. But this situation constantly reminds me of the people that freaked out over the Industrial Revolution in 19th-century Britain. Weavers and textile workers were way more important. It could take years to cultivate the skills necessary to weave with the best of them, and it could take several hours to produce very little cloth using a loom. Then some guy is like, "Hey, why pay people when machine work free?" The world agreed. Automated loom factories started popping up around the 1800s. They continued to get more and more badass, and instead of using a single skilled worker on one machine, suddenly one guy could oversee a bunch at once. Now, every once in a while, the machines would eat a woman or small child, but that didn't stop anyone from using them. This is also how our politicians work.

But think back to those weavers—the people who worked for years doing this stuff by hand. They were sort of phased into obsolescence. Would they just take that? No. A group that would be known as the Luddites began burning down factories and destroying knitting frames in protest. This movement was quickly adopted all across England until, finally, the government heard the voices of the people, saw the pain they were in, and… chopped their heads off. (It just says "executed" here, so that's an artistic change by me. I was really proud to find this in the newspaper clipping.) By 1813, the Luddites had faded into history. That's pretty messed up, right?

On the flip side, look at how painters first responded to photography. Paul Delaroche was this hugely influential artist in the 19th century. He has this hard-ass quote after he was allegedly shown a photograph: "From today, painting is dead." We know that photography didn't kill art. There were even artists at the time who were excited by the idea: "We can use the strengths of both mediums to improve painting rather than replace it." But the feeling that technology will one day automate your job and push your skills into obsolescence existed nonetheless. We've seen it happen. It's very hard to tell who's going to be the weavers and who's going to be the painters in this situation. Only the future knows for sure.

I agree with Mother's Basement on a lot of fronts. A really good point he makes is that currently, this AI stuff can't be copyrighted. You can even take a frame from the Corridor video and sell merch with it. As long as the AI is trained on material you don't own, it's not yours. But what if a big studio hires technicians and artists to train AI with material they own? That gives studios a massive advantage over the little guys who can't afford that. And if it gets good enough, workers could even be phased out if they go on strike because, guess what? "We can make up your workload until you accept a lower wage." There are so many ways AI can benefit humanity—conversely, an equal amount of ways it can tear us apart.

Jeff, what the hell does this have to do with Corridor Digital? It seems like the internet has some misplaced aggression. This is a very emotive topic, so I can understand why people might get angry with Corridor at first glance. "Did we just change animation forever? Uh, I sure hope not." But Jeff is tripping when hearing anything Corridor says. He takes the most sinister, non-charitable interpretation every time.

Exhibit A: When I first watched the video, Jeff had me thinking, "Oh, Corridor maybe paid a subscription service for an AI and is charging people for tutorials on how to use it. That's kind of messed up if they're using copyrighted material, which is what will happen if the technology and processes Corridor are advertising—and apparently tutorializing behind the paywall on their website—do take off." This is false. First off, Corridor is using three open-source software to achieve this effect. They don't get money if you use it. Jeff never mentions that. So the "technology and processes Corridor are advertising"—stating it had me confused—but what Corridor did was push a new technique using the software. They got the animations to flicker less and got the AI to stop changing styles constantly. Then they recorded an hour-long tutorial that teaches you how to replicate that same effect.

"One thing I want to talk about is the democratization of this process. This is a situation here where we're looking at a piece of software that's free, that anyone has access to—a process here that we're sharing openly with everyone because everyone's openly shared knowledge with us." But how is it democratizing animation if the tutorial is behind a paywall? Well, I went and made an account. Oh my god, it's free! This long-ass tutorial is free. If you're only after their technique, you can plug in your card number, get 15 days of free usage on their website, and bail. Once we have the hour-long tutorial, it's not really an ad for that—more so the exclusive content on their site if you decide to stay. But Mother's Basement said—wasn't lying per se, but that's pretty scummy and dishonest in my opinion.

Dishonest is the perfect word. Exhibit B: Mother's Basement is being dishonest when he says, "They're clearly pitching this as a disruption to animation, not VFX." Not VFX? So you also say they're advertising how to cut animators out of animation? Let me just say, dog, that is your pitch. Their pitch is literally at the start of your video: "Wouldn't it be cool if you could film yourself and easily turn into anything you want, like a cartoon character?" Over and over and over, Corridor drives home the idea of giving the little guys—the creatives, groups like Corridor—the ability to make animated stuff. Regardless of what you speculate will happen in the future, this is what they're advertising. This is the pitch.

"And people can experiment and improve upon the process, helping all of us get better. That's great. I love that idea—sharing the knowledge. That's what it's all about." How can you, on one hand, claim they're trying to cut animators out of animation and, on the other, clown them for trying to make it more accessible—for them wanting to democratize animation? See, he's doing the fingers again. You can't have both.

Also, Jeff hates black babies. Maybe even Chinese ones too. That's what I took away from the video. That was a joke. Jeff loves all babies. But do you see how I can infer something, construct a straw man, and make that the thing people attack? Sure, you feel they're advertising how to replace animators and disrupt the world of animation, but what about their words and actions leads you to think that's their intent? Otherwise, you're just kind of… Exhibit C-minus.

From the one and a half million views in three days and tens of thousands of likes on that video, we can also see that the tech is already good enough to satisfy a sizable group of people with little to no taste. Weird statement, right? If you clicked like on this video, you have little to no taste. It's not like I don't know AI is cool and people just want to see it. I got a lot going on, okay? I don't need an anime YouTuber—the pinnacle of human performance—telling me I have no taste because I think a video is interesting.

Continuing on that track, Jeff goes on to say, "And knowing what… in terms of visual… Tokyo Revengers… it's entirely possible that studios will get away with it." And correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't this guy bought and paid for by Record of Ragnarok? No offense, but who gives a damn what you think about people's tastes? You endorsed an anime that isn't animated. In case you're not aware, Record of Ragnarok is an anime that was received terribly by fans for how poorly animated it was. One of the fights is a straight-up slideshow. Jeff was paid to do a reaction video to promote the anime.

"Freaking orbital laser-level attacks! I love it! Wow! Mid! I love mid! Mid! Yes! Whoa!" Jeff, in retrospect, realized the taste thing was a very stupid thing to say and had to issue a retraction in the comments.

My point is, if you're going to get so emotional over a topic that you're lashing out at people who don't deserve it, maybe it's time to take a step back. Jeff is mad—so mad—like a lot of people out there. And emotional investment is a great way to construct bad arguments to support your feelings. And they throw very valid speculations about what a future with this technology could look like, but when it comes to what the hell Corridor Digital has to do with it all, you see dishonest arguments, straw men, and this clip that he, for some reason, thought was a gotcha.

Because when it comes to these AI tools: "Hey, sure, it makes it easier to copy people's style. So somebody just rips out somebody's style—call them out and be like, 'You rip that person off! Screw you!'" So then we went and we took a bunch of frames from Vampire Hunter D. Of course. Am I the only one who had to rewatch that to see what point he was making? Nico says, "Let people know whose style you're using," and the next clip is Nico saying which style he's using for the AI. Doesn't this seem perfectly consistent with what he just said? Would shift your perception of things? And it's like, "Aha! Caught red-handed!" Somehow.

I don't think people are wrong to be scared or upset at someone, but I think the internet has a fat case of misplaced aggression. Some dudes tweaking software to make AI mildly more presentable aren't what we should be directing our attention at. I think exploring how we can work alongside and legislate this stuff is… I want a future where art coexists with AI in the same way photography did with painting. And I am positive that right here, right now, there is some way we can take that first step.

"We need an active, aggressive counterculture that pushes back against this nonsense wherever it rears its ugly head. AI anime needs to become as dirty a word as NFT." Your solution is to make it cringe? "We will stop AI from stealing our jobs by bitching about it." The sales volume of NFTs has gone up. How is this your solution?

There's a misconception on the internet that bitching about things somehow either changes people's minds or makes the problem disappear. Let me give you an example. When Nike put out an ad endorsing Colin Kaepernick's activism, people felt the type of way. All across the U.S., men and women thought to themselves, "I'm gonna burn every damn Kaepernick jersey I got!" These were our intellectuals, our leaders. Many joined the cause to be just like them and burned their Nike products to send a message. Nike sales changed dramatically, and the company's value went… up by six billion dollars. The movement, which aimed to be as flashy as possible, actually ended up being a phenomenal advertisement. And a lot of people were just like, "Yep… I wish I had my Nike stuff back."

More recently, there's the Hogwarts Legacy boycott. Hogwarts Legacy is this game set in the Harry Potter universe. Now, the author of Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling, had nothing to do with the production, but she does receive royalties. And J.K. Rowling is guilty of transphobia, so she's dead in the eyes of the public. People repulsed by her words decide to boycott the video game as to not support her even a little bit. Fair enough. But boycotting the game wasn't enough. It was these people's responsibility to boycott for you. Tweets rained down upon any streamer caught showing interest in the game. A VTuber was bullied to tears for playing. Hell, people were harassed and picked on by rabid activists. It didn't matter if you were famous; it didn't matter if you weren't. The internet decided that buying this game was an act of hate, and it was their job to stop it. The game just outsold Elden Ring. Turns out, bitching online is a great advertisement for the thing you hate.

I can't be the only one who didn't know or care about this game until the activism. Relax and take notes: "Get the aggressive counterculture to curb the sales of Hogwarts Legacy." No. It did, however, make people feel like they're part of a movement. It was a quick, free placebo for change. It's easy to get behind a movement without thinking of how you're perceived by outside groups because I promise, in both of these cases, people who didn't immediately agree looked at the stuff being posted and thought to themselves, "Okay…" and kept it pushing.

This is exactly what I think when I see someone post a picture of themselves having fun with AI and see those tweets that are like, "This is just you stealing from artists. It's lazy. Stolen from artists that deserve to get paid. Disappointed in you." Do you think anyone has ever read one of these types of tweets and thought, "You know what? You guys are right"? No. "I just want to see how I would look as an anime character. I'm not making merch. It's cool." AI is cool to play with, so people are going to play with it—just as being a wizard is kind of cool. I'll just do it in private if you're gonna yell at me.

Statements like these are great for people who already agree with you, but outsiders are the ones you want. And picking odd fights like these is a terrible way to recruit outsiders. Attacking Corridor is not the way. The march of technology lies not in the hands of YouTubers but in the audience that consumes that media and the laws that govern it. If there's a market for it, it will exist. Simple as that. There's nothing we can do to stop people from refining AI. Right now, thousands of people are tinkering away, trying to find the next foothold towards making the stuff look good. Corridor's video was only possible because of the thousands before them.

So the aim isn't to stigmatize innovating with AI. The cat's out of the bag. The aim isn't to pray people have high enough standards to not like the stuff. I'm sorry, Jeff. The aim is to create a world that coexists with AI. What laws can we enact that will protect animators? What are some general practices that the average person can agree on? I don't have all the answers. I don't even have a good amount of answers, but here's a start:

Corridor should have credited Vampire Hunter D on the main video. I don't think they made an attempt to obfuscate where they got the style. In fact, the behind-the-scenes video credits Vampire Hunter D for the style multiple times. It has damn near the same amount of views as the original. But a good practice to always have is saying, "This AI was trained on images from X." It gives the average person a better idea of what they're looking at, and a quick disclaimer like that on the start would help promote the original works even more.

Here's another one: Jeff was very, very doomer about that copyright stuff. If big studios hire people to train AI on content they own, and indie studios can't afford to do so, that's unfair. True. But since we're in the land of make-believe, let me put something out there: What if someone trains an AI on all the public domain stuff out there? I use public domain stuff for my videos all the time. This way, artists could even opt in instead of having their works taken. I have a friend who knows artists who would like to do something like that. Indie studios can then use this AI and feed it images that they created to replicate that style. And boom—ethical and legal. I don't know if the law would allow you to retain copyright, and I'm not going to learn, but that's kind of how sampling public domain music works, so I figured it'd be fine.

That brings us to the end. I'm not an animator nor a lawyer, so I don't have anything groundbreaking to bring to the table. But if you want to know my opinion, I think a lot of people are freaking themselves out for no reason. The whole "I oppose this thing, so I must attack anything related to it" mentality is silly. If that's how things worked, the vegans running around throwing period blood at butcher trucks and getting run over would have the meat industry on the ropes. That's how I see Jeff saying, "We need an active and aggressive counterculture that opposes AI anime wherever it rears its head." He thinks he's Rosa, but like… Jeff, I love animation, and I respect artists. They should be getting paid more and don't deserve to have their jobs threatened. I just don't see Corridor getting in the way of either of those two things, and there are actual animators that share that feeling.

Jeff deserves respect. He's an OG. If you're interested, check out his original video. I could chop and skew the stuff he's saying—you wouldn't know. But more importantly, subscribe to me. I don't make stuff like this often. I'm gonna be honest—I probably never will again. But anime, manga—hey, uh, where are you going? Don't leave me yet. Please subscribe. Subscribe.

ai generated images make me increasingly sad and tired the more i see them in more and more casual contexts. i dont know how to explain, but it just fills the world with a bunch of nothing. no matter how visually stunning the pictures might be, there's nothing behind it for me. no dedication, no emotions, no feelings, no hard work or creativity, nothing i can truly think about, admire or enjoy. i dont think thats how art is supposed to be

[falmerbrook]

Theories for What Darien is

Some folks seem content with "vessel of Meridia" as an answer to "what's Darien's deal" but I'm not, and I think at some point we'll get more answers, so here's a collection of some theories+clues I've thought of or seen others suggest in the meantime.

A Demiprince

A Demiprince is "the Daedric offspring of a Daedric Prince or Daedra Lord and a lesser entity such as a mortal". They aren't really a thing this series puts a lot of focus on (and I like that, personally. We have enough focus on daedra already) but having a focus on a major character being one could be a good opportunity to flesh the concept out perhaps. From what we do know, though, the relationship between Prince and Demiprince seems less like that of a literal parent and child and more like the Prince provides some part of themselves or their power/essence/realm to create a new being with part of the essence of a lesser being. When that other entity is a mortal, I suppose that would just be the other parent. Basically under this theory Darien's father (as a reminder, a character we have met and interacted with in-game) was probably a Meridia cultist, or otherwise connected with her and for whatever reason agreed to make and raise Darien. He probably grew up from a child if this is the case.

Meridia wasn't a part of the Coldharbour Compact, but maybe for whatever reason she felt she needed a mortal with loyalty and a connection to her, as well as a sample of her power to do her bidding on Nirn, and thought a Demiprince would be the best way to go about it? Regardless of motivation, I think it would set up a very interesting relationship or dynamic between Darien and Meridia if they ever return if it turns out she's basically his mom.

Evidence:

Darien mentions that he never met his mother when you talk to him on Summerset. It seems like something pretty specific to bring up unless it had some sort of relevance (although the rest of this dialogue is going to be more relevant to later theories)

He also seems to be under the impression that he has always had whatever power/abilities he has related to Meridia in him his whole life (now, how long that life is depends on the theory).

(me too, Darien)

When he mentions that he had dreamed of the assault on Coldharbour and the light of Meridia before, he says that he's been having these dreams since he was young, implying that 1) he had a childhood (that's relevant I swear) and 2) his connection to Meridia and purpose as her Champion has been present since he was young. In his journal you can find in Camlorn, however, he says he's been having dreams predicting the Planemeld "since winter", implying they are a more recent thing. Perhaps his dreams have just gotten more specific or frequent as he got older?

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Something of otherwise daedric origin that Meridia plops on Nirn when she needs something done

Basically, my thought with this one is that "Darien" has been Meridia's vessel (whatever that entails) for a long time, that she sends down to Nirn/Mundus whenever she wants to more covertly get something taken care of. For an example, in the context of the Planemeld, a certain amount of time before it started (I'm thinking, say, months) he appeared in Camlorn as a full adult, with him and the people around him having false memories of his past. Perhaps his "dad" is in on it, or perhaps he's just a random guy who has now been assigned an adult son by a god. Once he had fulfilled the task she set out for him, in this case helping to thwart Molag Bal, she would bring him back into the Colored Room for the next time she needed him (in this case, the conflict with the Dark Triad). In this case, he isn't a mortal, he just appears as one and is under the impression he is one. Usually, his memory is reset when he returns to the Colored Rooms, but, according to Meridia something changed in his interactions with the Vestige...

This one certainly has it's own holes in how it actually works, but it's a start.

Evidence:

The biggest evidence for this theory comes from the player's conversation with Meridia during the Summerset main quest.

She claims that he only believes himself to be Darien, and that he is really something else. (also she calls him "it") As well, she also says she sends him to Mundus to execute her will, implying this is not only his purpose, but also that she's done this before.

Additionally, she directly says that something about her intended purpose for him has been altered since he met you (and she specifically cites the Vestige as the problem). Perhaps he was meant to forget about his bonds and life from before he was returned to the Colored Rooms, but something about this time made it so he didn't and now he's invested in that past life.

The way he keeps returning to the Colored Rooms when he "dies" (his first time having not been within the protective shield Meridia set up, the second time being when he sacrificed himself to restore Dawnbreaker) is reminiscent of the way daedra are returned and reformed in their home realms when they are killed elsewhere. Daedra aren't actually "killed" when they die, they are instead just returned to the plane of Oblivion they originate from. Perhaps that is what's going on with him.

(source)

Finally, I mentioned earlier that in his journal, he claims he's only been having his dreams of the Planemeld and Meridia for probably a few months at most. Perhaps that's how long he's actually been on Nirn?

We saw earlier that he also mentions that his childhood was a blur. Maybe that's because he didn't actually have one.

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A(nother) Vestige™

(or just generally, originally a normal Breton dude, turned into something daedric)

So, from my understanding, a vestige (lowercase v) is basically the daedric version of a soul. Daedra do not have souls in the way mortals do. Instead they have vestiges that are basically the essence of a daedra that its form/body is created around. This is a bit different than what The Vestige (uppercase V) is. When mortal souls are sacrificed to Molag Bal, the soul is replaced by a vestige in Coldharbour, turning the mortal into a Soul Shriven who is compelled/forced to serve as a slave in Coldharbour for eternity since they cannot die permanently (similar to daedra). The bodies of Soul Shriven are weak and decay over time, but rarely, such as with The Vestige, some other Aunic (which I think means relating to Mundus) aspect allows them to maintain their former body, while still have the ability to reform after death like a daedra. (all of this is taken from this book, so if I got it wrong let it know)

With that out of the way, this theory is basically that Darien is like The Vestige, but for Meridia instead of Molag Bal. Alternatively (and more simply) it could be that he was originally born a normal mortal, but at some point had some part of Meridia's power/essence imbued in him to become what he is now (the Ambitions had this sorta thing going on for another example of it).

There isn't really any evidence for this theory that makes it more likely than the others. As a matter of fact I think it's weaker than the previous two. However, it would be thematically interesting to have him parallel with The Vestige, and it would make this line A+ foreshadowing:

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Other random tidbits I found interesting but don't really apply to any one theory

In his final words to the Vestige in the books he leaves us after the Summerset main quest, he rather definitively says that Meridia is responsible for bringing him into existence. So at the very least she has something to do with his existence. This could apply to any of the theories I've already put forward, but mostly the first two.

His powers or whatever essence of Meridia that he has is implied to be finite. He initially seemed to think that he was transferring the rest of what he had into Dawnbreaker when he sacrificed himself at the end of Summerset, but in his final words it seems more like it took away a part of it, and each time he does something like that or "dies" he loses a bit (and that when he loses all of it he will actually die :( )

Nocturnal seems to recognize him as "Meridia's vessel". This is right after he mentions using Dawnbreaker so the Meridia connection is obvious, but the same use of the word "vessel" makes this seem like a thing the other Princes understand or already know about unquestioningly. Maybe it's a Daedric Prince thing, maybe it indicates Meridia has had this "vessel" in whatever form for awhile.

His dad is definitely a guy that exists given Lady Arabelle mentions having worked with him at some point at least 16 years prior to the events of the game. Make of that what you will for however he fits into all this.

Not really related to what his deal is at all, but still a interesting part I forgot about: Darien and Sotha Sil have had a conversation. I very much wish I was a fly on the wall during that. Maybe Sil could recognize more about what was going on with Darien than we could.

[haru-dipthong]

Despite my whole blog basically being dedicated to translating Utena at the moment, I don't watch a whole lot of anime. But I just finished Dandadan and I'm totally in love with it. However, every now and then I switched on the english subtitles to have a peek at what was going on in there and my god... it was so bad.

One of the first things I noticed about Dandadan's dialogue is that it really respects teenagers. Specifically teenage slang. As Gretchen McCulloch mentions in Because Internet, most language innovation comes from teenage girls (here's another source on that). They're often the ones pioneering changes in their language. Dandadan seems to very much respect this in the characters' extremely natural and realistic speech. This is how teens really talk to each other! And yet the translation takes this respect and spits on it with this how-do-you-do-fellow-kids 2012-era cringe inducing nightmare dialogue.

Also, Dandadan being MA15 (or whatever the equivalent rating is in your region) means that it could use lots of swear words... but the strongest word I've seen used in the subtitles is "crap". I'll rant about this another day but translations of Japanese media need to use the word "fuck" more. There's no equivalent word in Japanese, but a good translator should be able to tell when the vibe/grammar/tone would convey a fuck in english. Also, teenagers swear a LOT. If you want to convey a similar tone to the original japanese, you need to use swear words. It's just not optional.

Anyway all this to say, I'll probably start translating Dandadan after I'm finished with Utena. It sorely needs a translation that levels the same respect towards teenage girls and towards the sexual themes that the original script does.

[bberry005]

now that i've sat down and thought a little bit more, perrin's speech in episode 2 was actually so good and i'm about to analyze it entirely too closely because i've had so many thoughts since i first watched it.

like "pain will find you. trouble and disagreement will arrive without summons. there's no choice in this, there's no effort required. you will simply stand still and the galaxy will deliver a daily basket of fresh anxieties to your door without fail" that is already so good. he's being truthful, honest, and maybe a little too real about how his life with mon turned out as he tells his daughter (and the room) about marriage.

but then? then you get "my hope...my hope...my hope is that you learn to reach past this constant cloud of sadness. pleasure, gaiety, amusement, these are the hidden things. the music buried beneath all that noise...joy. joy!" okay we're getting somewhere. we've got our rebellion undertones in there with his repeition of hope. he could just be talking about relationships and marriage and he probably is, but with pans to mon and vel and luthen, he could also be talking about the rebellion, the war. we will reach past the war, the empire, the pain and the suffering, and we will see joy again. in fact, joy might even be hidden in the pockets of this horrible place. we can search for it in all the hidden places (a long table on mina rau, in a converted cargo ship called the ghost, on an island called pabu), and we should. even in the most horrible times, there is a hidden joy underneath it all.

AND FINALLY we get "joy...but joy has no wind at its back. joy will not announce its arrival. you need to listen for it and be mindful of how fleeting and delicate it can be. but search out those treasures. a moment of...of pleasing sensation, the memory of the laughter and good company, the comfort of a fine meal." just...god its so good. because he is right. in the show, in real life, its hard to latch onto joy. its easy to get bogged down in all of the trouble and anxieties and forget that joy is there. that we need to listen for it. the rebels are at their lowest during the years leading up to the battle of yavin. they're scattered, desperate, waiting for that moment where they band together and take their chance and manage to overturn the empire, but there's more beneath all of that. they do not need to wait until the war is over to experience joy. perhaps they can find it in a quiet moment in the morning or late at night or surrounded by friends while planning for a mission, but joy is not gone as long as we search for it. joy is still there for those who have hope, and i think that's a beautiful thing for andor to say on top of all of that horrible, gritty reality that they show us. because this is star wars, and in rebellion era star wars specifically, hope is always the point.

[morrigan-sims]

And I forget sometimes I'm just flesh and bone.

As he stands in the ruined bathroom, all Rook can think is, At least now I can breathe.

[deiaiko]

#19.3 Unravel

It had been some time since Agni felt this nervous. Not even talking with Jinsung Ha recently had made him feel like this. He fiddled with the mask on his hand as he waited for Grace to come back. He had thought hard on how to deliver the news, but he knew that no matter how he phrased it, Grace would be upset. Velt nuzzled under his palm and Agni gave her a few pats, before deciding that she would be better inside her bowl in his lighthouse, just in case the shinsu acted up around Grace after he received the news.

Grace came back wearing the comfiest shirt and shorts Agni knew Grace liked to wear on lazy days. He joined him on the floor, and they ate dinner together. Agni always finished last, so while waiting for him to finish his meal, Grace told him about his day with Bam. Grace was intrigued by how much his way of thinking had changed, and how glad he was to be able to be by Bam's side when he was having a bad day. It reminded Agni of the hidden floor, when Grace faced his sworn enemy.

They left the used bowls on the coffee table and went to brush their teeth. Afterwards, they turned off the light and went upstairs to sit on their bed. Grace's curious gaze never left him, and Agni curled his feet nervously.

Grace was the one who broke the silence. "So…what is it?"

Agni's breath hitched. This was the part he dreaded most. "I talked with the crocodile earlier. Did you know that he could manipulate stone already?"

"Huh." Grace needed a few seconds to let the information sink in. "Didn't Rak learn it on the Hell train? How does he know it?"

"Turns out our crocodile also traveled back to the past like us. He found the young crocodile and taught him."

"What?!" Grace gasped, wide eyed. "That means our Rak is–!!"

"He's dead." Agni quickly snuffed out that hope. They had been in delusion for long enough; it was time that they faced the bitter truth. "He suffered a fatal injury from the explosion. He couldn't have lasted long without proper help." Agni omitted the actual cause for Rak's death, but still kept his words true. "I'm sorry."

"…Oh." Grace looked lost, just like Agni was. His lips parted a little, but they closed before any sound escaped.

Agni gently squeezed Grace's hand, encouraging and comforting as he let the silence stretch on, giving Grace some time to process the information.

"Agni…" Grace whispered, "do you think Hatz and Isu…?"

Agni bit his lip and avoided his gaze, as the nightmare of that day replayed in his mind. He witnessed Hatz get his arm ripped off when trying to protect him. He could still recall the clang of a sword hitting the floor, and Hatz's suppressed scream that gnawed deep at his guilt. He witnessed Isu get beheaded after being taken hostage, the memory of warm blood painting them both still vivid like it happened yesterday. 

Agni refused to acknowledge their possible deaths, because it felt like a nightmare that one day he could hopefully wake up from. He avoided the topic when Grace brought it up, so he wouldn't have to say it aloud and make it real. He had been so hard on himself, because he couldn't get rid of the feeling that he had failed Grace and everyone else involved.

Agni knew this had to change if he wanted to live better, now that they had gotten a second chance. So he swallowed down the lump in his throat that had built up over the years and asked mostly to himself; "What are the odds of their survival?"

"There's always a chance–"

"Grace." Agni looked him straight in the eye. "They were already severely injured before the explosion hit."

Grace fell silent and went still.

Agni felt a pang of guilt upon witnessing Grace's reaction. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap." Agni fiddled with his hands. He realized that he didn't know how much Grace knew of what happened. "My scar…do you know how I got it?"

"I…was told it was from the family heads' battle." Grace looked thoughtful. Agni knew he was trying to be careful with his words. "A stray attack?"

"It could have been worse." The memory of the scorching heat on his skin felt like it had only happened yesterday. He passed out right when he was about to heal Isu, and only found out later that he also lost sweetfish at that time. The days he spent recovering from the burn, to withstand the excruciating pain every second he was conscious, and finally coming to terms that it'd be a permanent scar, was one of the turning points that had changed him forever. Were Grace not there to care for him, he might have ended up destroying himself even more.

Agni hadn't realized he had his left hand clawing on his cheek until Grace pried his hand off and frowned, "You're doing it again."

"Maybe I should wear the mask…" Agni muttered to himself. After all, Grace gave it to him less so he could hide the scar but more to prevent him from unconsciously hurting himself. The only time he could safely take it off was when Grace was around.

Agni bit his lip nervously when Grace didn't reply. He no longer had the courage to look Grace in the eye that spoke so much concern, so he leaned close and rested his head on Grace's chest. "Rak, Isu, Hatz and Hwaryun were trying to get me out of that damned place. But we were caught while escaping, and…it was a bloodbath. I was…too occupied to react to the incoming heat. Rak shielded us from the explosion. And when I woke up…"

"They weren’t with you," Grace finished it for him after Agni trailed off a moment too long.

Agni nodded dazedly, "I've been telling myself that they're still alive, after a blow that could kill rankers. But…who am I kidding? I was lucky enough to survive with just this little–" Agni vaguely pointed to himself– "inconvenience."

Agni felt a hand gripping his arm, and he pulled away to see Grace looking at him with a pained expression. His eyes were glossy and his lips were pulled into a thin line. Trusting his instinct, Agni reached out to gently trace and cup Grace's cheek with his free hand.

"I'm sorry," Agni muttered. "I'm sorry, for not telling you sooner."

Agni silently witnessed tears that streamed down on his love's face. It was a bitter sight that Agni wished he'd never have to see again, that he had tried to avoid for so long by not telling him. He pulled Grace in and held him close to his chest, as if Agni was trying to gather his own crumbled heart back together.

Grace mumbled their late best friends' names as he held onto him tighter, shaking from each breath he took between sniffles.

Agni felt his own eyes sting with unshed tears. He remembered the years he spent climbing the tower together with his old team. Despite their banter being his source of headaches, Agni knew he too had come to acknowledge them as his cherished friends. Only when they were gone did Agni realize how much he'd miss having them around. Seeing the younger them didn't exactly close the gaping hole in his heart, but at least the emptiness was more filled.

Agni squeezed Grace tighter. "We have their younger selves with us now. We will protect them better this time."

Grace only nodded and sank further into his embrace. And Agni planted kisses on his hair, relishing the thought that after everything he had gone through, Grace was still a constant in his life. As long as he had him, everything would be okay.

When Grace started shaking again, Agni caressed his hair and hummed a comfort song they had known by heart. Still, it didn't make falling asleep any easier for Agni, especially not after admitting that his nightmare was very much real. However, as he had been through grief…this, too, would pass.

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[longagoitwastuesday]

Every day I am haunted by the fact JJK could be amazing but it will be just idk Bleach or something

[enhanced-operatives-division]

Junicrane/Starstruck Ramble

I will not be brief, all under the cut

To clear some things right off the bat:

No corpse, no proof with Juniper. Obligatory this is set in a canon where he's alive and adjacent to the agency in some way.

Reggie & Juniper are just gay to me, but I don't mind any interpretation of their sexuality

The games are set in 1967/68 to me (based on a couple bits in game) which is before it was legal to be gay in America at least (1971), which is relevant to how I interpret canon as being somewhat grounded in reality, despite unrealistic elements.

This is just an insane amount of headcanons/elements of and AU all culminated into one post. I will talk about some headcanons like they're just facts because they are established in my head, and it saves me over explaining literally everything, however I will explain some parts a little bit for clarity.

Alright. Actual beginning of the ramble:

Juniper is a character to me who had gotten so lost in his job as an actor and a social presence that in the end his whole life revolved around that 'role'. Because of this, by the time he's put into the situation where he's around the Agency, he basically knows nothing about himself, though he doesn't realise at first. Furthermore, what little identity he had has changed in so many ways. He's no longer a beloved famous actor in the prominence of public light, he's legally dead and he tarnished his career just before he was supposed to die, with the bonus of that making him lose the majority of his estate. From that, he also has horrific facial scarring from the electrical burns from literally having his face fried. I believe a friend of mine made a post about this a while ago (I also think they were the first to think it up also), but, to me, Juniper has a permanent trimmer in his right arm (aka his dominant hand) from the electrical current and it is messing with his nervous system.

All in all, he's not doing great, but he's too proud to admit that he's not doing great, because if anything, what's left of his ego is all he has as a defense since he's deep in unfamiliar water.

Before ending up around the agency (I have multiple interpretations of this, so I'm just going to bring it up generally), he'd never actually seen Reggie, and his only impression of him is a single voicemail, which was his only reference he had to later impersonate him. Juniper probably has very little feelings other than the ones he projects onto him because of Phoenix and that, at the very least, he's physically attracted to Reggie to some degree (that's like the beginning of how everything else would tumble into place in this sort of interpretation at least).

And on Crane's side? His feelings towards Juniper are probably very intense and muddled. On the one hand, he adores musical theatre, and that's his now ex-favourite actor. The thought of just casually being around him blows the bit of fanboy in him away at first because THAT'S the GUY, plus the inklings of a celebrity crush which still poke at him. And then there's the rational side of him, which knows Juniper has committed absolute atrocities on the side of Zoraxis, and hates him for that. Then there's how much Juniper comes off as an asshole at first because he refuses to cooperate with anything the Agency tried to put in place. He finds Juniper endlessly frustrating, and yet he's stuck working with him since, afterall, he's the one who knows the Agency's history with Juniper the best. I imagine him acting a lot like how he does IEYTD 1 around Juniper.

At this point, I'm just describing the pitch for a romcom.

I think the start of their relationship with one another largely started with Juniper trying to wind Crane up. It was a way of getting his attention, and I don't think Juniper knows why he's so dead set on that at first, because I don't think he realises he has a crush on 'this grump' at first. (I think that's actually the fun part about these two, because it's almost like a role reversal of the celebrity crush dynamic. This ex-big name actor has a TERRIBLE crush on an average joe and it is KILLING HIM.) But of course the Agency keeps them together because Juniper is at least conversing with Crane, so it's a start.

Through one way or another, they actually get talking casually, at least mildly at first. It takes Juniper a long time to fully deconstruct the wall he's built, and the thing is, Crane isn't the one trying to deconstruct it, at least at first, because yeah, Juniper realises if he wants Reggie to actually like him in any way, he can't keep winding him up. So they talk. Small talk at first, something rhythmic and almost easy to keep to a script. And over time that turns into actual conversations. Genuine ones in which Reggie rips out the occasional one of his jokes which Juniper is endlessly endeared about. The way he smiles just before he makes them, like he wants to chuckle at what he's about to say before he says it. That's probably when Juniper realised that he does have some vague crush on him, and that it wasn't going away.

This is what kickstarts John I can't-buy-you-things-to-impress-you-so-acts-of-service-it-is Juniper to do little things for him. It mostly starts off as him trying to make Reggie his tea how he likes it. However, the nerve damage in his arm makes that hard, as the weight of the kettle and trying to pour is hard all of a sudden. And he refuses to accept that, so he tries for a very long while. Long enough that Crane would go to investigate what was going on. And when he does see Juniper leaning over a cup with the kettle as he uneasily tries to pour it, and when Crane asks Juniper responds so matter-of-fact that his intention is nothing but genuine. And it catches Reggie off guard because Juniper hadn't done anything like that up to that point, and his very apparent vulnerability is so clearly on show.

It shifts something between them.

From that point on, conversations are longer, more familiar. Both of their attitudes soften, and Reggie makes more jokes. Juniper learns how to better use his left hand while strengthening his right back to a point where it could be used again. Slowly, they're both spending time with one another not because they have to, but just because they can. Little bits at first, not too far outside what they already were doing, but those little bits turned into long bits to a point where the other person's company was genuinely desirable.

As time passes, Juniper probably realises that he doesn't genuinely know much about himself or what hobbies he's into, because he never really had the time when he got big, and his home life in his youth wasn't bad, but it wasn't picturesque. I think Reggie would pick up on it, and absolutely try to introduce him to some things he's into. Some things stick, other things don't (corn husking very much stays Reggie's passion, and John will go with him sometimes because it's him, but it's not something he strongly cares for). Crane introduces him to a lot of music, and it's something that becomes a staple between them, with tracks they listen to more than others (tragically, I know relatively little about 60s music so I couldn't really say what). Occasionally they dance, never anything intense, think slow dancing, but the closeness is nice.

Through all of it, Juniper is battling the worst crush of his life, and he can't stand it, because I think he struggles to read people since he doesn't have anything like a script or a director to refer back to, so he has no idea if Reggie likes him back or if he's just desperate for that to be true. I think because of that any sort of confession between them would be incredibly raw, not only because of the time they live in making it hard for them to be truthful about how they love, but because it's a complete show of Juniper who's worked to be this better person. I don't exactly know how that would go, mainly because I don't have one set version of their dynamic, this post is just a generalisation of main consistent points.

Reggie does like him back, because he's gotten used to Juniper being just this guy, not a figure in the public eye, not a Zoraxis lackey, and not any sort of Agency operative (despite being under their care to some degree). He's someone he genuinely cares for, because they've given one another the time of day to learn one another, and I think because Reggie was a field agent, he was a lot better at reading Juniper than Juniper was at reading him. Eventually Juniper's company becomes something he could see around him for the rest of his life, and I think he accepts that he likes Juniper a lot more gracefully.

I think any affection directed at Juniper would at first be met with him feeling a little muddled. Reggie was a very physically affectionate person when he could be, and sure the initial flirting with one another came with the occasional little touches, but everything now was so deeply intentional. I also don't think Juniper would almost ever get over the novelty of being able to kiss him, or many other gestures, because it made the fact that they were together so very real, and it was great. I do think it comes easier to Reggie, and it's a big way of showing how much he cares, so it's important for Juniper to try and show it back because he knows how much it means to the other.

I like the idea of them eventually living with one another, too. I think Juniper would have always had a quiet little daydream of sorts where he does just live a domestic quiet life, and he can with Reggie (well, as close as they can get between the Agency and Zoraxis always being at odds), and he loves that, and he loves him, and it's immense.

I think they cook for one another a lot, it helps Juniper work on his dexterity in a controlled environment, which means a lot because it's a huge point of insecurity (that and his scars). He does improve, and Crane is proud of that and shows it and it's great. I also think they'd probably cook together too, because they can deal with being in the kitchen together and they work well with one another. It's probably a good way for them to unwind because over time they can do it in relative silence.

As I said before, I also think music is a staple in their household, and that Reggie listens to things on vinyl almost all of the time because he likes the background noise. Sometimes Juniper will catch him chuntering along to the music which he finds endlessly endearing. I wouldn't put it past his dramatic ass to also join in to fluster Reggie, but I also don't think Reggie would mind that terribly because Juniper has listened to the music enough to know the lyrics, and that's huge to him.

I don't think they are without rough patches, no relationship is, but I think the good part about them is that they're willing to talk about it (... eventually). They're used to long conversations, and while they're often less fun conversations, they're needed and they know that, and it works out.

Alright. I think I'm done for now. I haven't mentioned everything, but this definitely got the worst of it out of my system. If you ever want to hear any specific thoughts my ask box is open but other than that, behold my general dynamic for these two which has been festering in my head for years. I think they're great

[autumnoakes]

hyperfixations really will have you imagining a 2 hour video essay on some white guy video game character huh 😪

[lys-jeorge]

.

[multi-lefaiye]

sometimes you have a trigger that cannot be reasonably and easily accommodated for, because it would require the people around you to police themselves to an extent that is not healthy for them to do.

that doesn't make your triggers and your trauma any less real or valid or *deserving* of accommodations, but deserving does not necessarily always mean that those accommodations are possible.

sometimes the best way to handle your triggers is to recognize what triggers you and do what you have to do to handle them when they come up. find coping mechanisms that work for you, and as much as you're able to, be open with the people in your life about it. even if they can't make sure you never have to interact with something that may trigger you, they can be a support system for you to ensure you'll survive the blows as they come.

it's not always possible to avoid what triggers you and it's not always possible for others to do that for you. (to be clear: i'm not at all saying people should *seek out* content that they *know* will trigger them or that they shouldn't remove themselves from situations that are triggering when they have the ability to do so, but that sometimes it's not that easy.)

(disclaimer: this is not psychological advice and i'm not saying this applies to everyone.)

[suksatoru]

ryomen sukuna has (oddly) attractive teeth.

his canines specifically are teasingly sharp things. they graze over your skin and leave red marks in their wake whenever he kisses you, and when they sink into the juicer fruits sukuna choses to indulge in every now and then during dinner time—they leave rivers of nectar dripping down his chin, just begging to be cleaned up.

that is the explanation you give sukuna when he asks you why you licked him.

"say ah."

sukuna's growl is cut off when your fingers push past his mouth, cradling his jaw and prying it open before you gently push aside his upper lip to reveal the top two devils residing inside.

they seem to wink at you in the light, pearly white and just as sharp as you'd predicted—sukuna watches you through narrowed eyes as your finger gently traces the outline of his canines—the sharpest two teeth of them all.

"beautiful—just beautiful. are you sure you're not a vampire, suks?"

a mere second later, his jaw snaps shut—and you pull away with just barely a millisecond saving your fingers from being chomped clean off. and sukuna thinks that might finally shut you up about his teeth, but you're so crazy you find the audacity to laugh with a sadistic kind of glee that (he'll never admit) is freaking him out.

"you are a feral animal, woman. who the fuck is attracted to teeth? my body is one of a god, i could crush you with just the muscle in my arm, and what are you doing—using it as leverage to balance yourself, like it's some sort of stepping stool—to get a closer look into my mouth."

"mhm!"

your smile is charming enough that he can't help but grumble under his breath as you sigh dreamily, draping your head over the curve between his shoulder and neck

"have you ever bitten your tongue by accident, suks? i mean, you do talk an awful lot. i wouldn't be surprised if—"

sukuna seems determined to remind you that there are other aspects of him far more worthy of your attention (like his strength, perhaps) as he grabs you in one fell swoop and tosses you over his shoulder like it was nothing.

"bed," he grumbles as he gently tosses you onto the crumped sheets and blankets a few feet away—you laugh again, and he's muttering all sorts of profanities under his breath as he blows out the candle resting on your bedside and gets into the spot beside you, laying his head onto the pillow with a sigh

"and if you don't go the fuck to sleep—i swear to god i will bite your head off with these teeth you're so obsessed with," sukuna mutters, tone heavy with exhaustion and slurred with something like amusement as he watches your eyes glitter with mischief

"don't threaten me with a good time," you grin, and he tugs you forward wordlessly, cocooning you in his hold as his arms wrap around your form before he lets out a quiet grunt

"you're insane, woman. and lucky i'm so madly in love with you."

[lavenderprose]

Emmrich actually IS the suave and charismatic gentleman we've all been waiting for. Forget your Alistairs and your Cullens. Emmrich says dear and darling and has enough Big Dick Energy that you sense him coming from three rooms away. What's that shift in the air? Emmrich's natural necromantic aura touching the Fade? Well yes but also the sound of his monster cock swinging in his perfectly tailored trousers.

Emmrich talks to Rook like there's a love letter addressed to them specifically lodged in his voice box. He touches them like he paid money for the privilege. Emmrich uses his wealth to help others, he is NOT a person who desires power, and he expects the same of others. One time he looked at Rook and said, "The only good noble is a dead one," and even though Rook knew he was talking about the residents of the Necropolis, or perhaps because of that, it made Rook so wet they had to go sit down against a tree and bang their head a little to calm down.

Sometimes Rook shows up in Emmrich's room of an evening and without even missing a beat Emmrich says, "Come have a seat, darling," and Rook sits next to him only for him to tut and pat his knee. Immediately, Rook is perched there like he's Santa Claus.

"The things one can sense when truly in tune with the fade are inspiring," Emmrich says, and other such nonsense as his touch finds the path of least resistance to Rook's skin without hesitation. His fingers are cool and kind and they trace up the side of Rook's ribs like they might slot perfectly between them, like Rook was built as a home for his hand.

"You're killing me," Rook says, because he is, because Rook could actually choke and die from how badly they want to feel Emmrich's mustache on their thighs.

"Yes, but only a little death," Emmrich says. He smiles and his bangles jingle merrily away as he plays with Rook's chest. "Every time I touch your body, I'm already longing for the moment I'll touch it again."

"Guh," says Rook. "Hrng. Hunh."

"I quite agree. I find that words fail me when it comes to...how you make me feel, dearest." This is what Emmrich says, but fails utterly to demonstrate as he leans in and delicately bites Rook's earlobe, whispering seventeen of the twenty filthiest things Rook has ever heard. Things like I'll eat you like a cake, though you're more delicious and the Fade sings your name when I'm in you and--

"If I have to hear ONE MORE THING about that necromancer's cock," seethes Solas, who did NOT know that he was signing up for nightly pornographic lullabies when he decided to kick it in the back of Rook's head. This is the fourth time he's said that this week. He will hear many, many more things about that necromancer's cock.

"YES EMMRICH," echoes through the Fade, "Gods YES, harder! Give it to me!"

The spirits of the Fade, who like Emmrich a whole helluva lot more than they like Solas right now, twirl and giggle.

[slapmeshigaraki]

"You're pretty when you cry."

summary: uhhh meanie!rafayel likes it when you squirt...to put it simply

cw: pussy slapping, really condescending, slut shaming, daddy

"No no no more talking. You lost your speaking privileges." The usually soft-spoken boy was suddenly enraged, growling through his gritted teeth as he slammed his hips into you from behind, snaking his free hand around your body and covering your mouth.

"You should be thanking me, honestly. It's not like you deserve to feel good, do you? Brats shouldn't get to come at all. I'm doing you a favor, aren't I sweet?" Your muffled screams only made him fuck into you faster, your sticky skin smacking against his, creating such filthy sounds--god, it was all making him so painfully hard. Tears brimmed in the corners of your eyes now as he forced your face down into the mattress, reveling in the way he could see every muscle in your back tense and contract whenever he pushed himself into you.

"Fuuuck, you're so wet, angel. You don't like this, do you? You getting off on being bullied? Only a slut would like that--you're not a slut, are you baby?" He released your mouth, anticipating an answer, but only moans left your lips.

"Answer me and don't fucking lie." His hips stilled at once, a few free fingers sliding down between your legs, threatening to slam down onto your clit if he didn't hear what he wanted to.

"No not a slut--fuckk please keep fucking me."

"Mmmmh see, princess that was a lie. Do you think a good girl's cunt would be this fucking nasty?" Without warning, he pulled out entirely, leaving your hole to clench around nothing as he placed a harsh slap onto your cunt. You screamed out at the sensation, quickly trying to force your legs closed, but it was no use, as Rafayel forced your thighs apart with one of his own.

"Don't try to run now. You wanted this remember. You were the one using this dirty fucking mouth to beg me earlier, 'pleaseee daddy, just touch me.' I'm touching you now, aren't I baby? What do we say when someone gives us a gift?."

"Thank you thank you..." Another hard smack landed on your clit, forcing a shriek out of your mouth.

"I said thank you!" You protested at the unwarranted punishment only to be met with another harsh spank.

"I heard you." He did, but that didn't mean he was going to stop. The way your cunt was soaking his fingers and the way little gasps left your lips each time he slapped your swollen clit was far too entertaining. It was only a matter of time before your struggled screeches turned into moans, your hips gently grinding back against his palm at every point of contact.

"Please..."

"Please what? What do you want, baby, hm? Come on use your big girl words."

"Please, can I cum?" He couldn't help but to laugh at the pathetic request.

"Be more specific. What do you want me to keep doing, huh? What is it exactly that's about to make you cum all over my fucking hand?"

"Please keep slapping my cunt, daddy." There it was... he had you right where he wanted you--gasping and writhing beneath his touch, making a little puddle of drool on the sheets, begging him to do something so degrading to you. He had won and Rafayel was anything but a humble champion.

"Aww of course I will, pretty girl. Go ahead and cum for me. Fuckkkk that's it. This pussy is so fucking sloppy for my fingers, come on. Give it to me, angel--it's mine...Shittt what a creamy mess." A few more smacks and you were cumming, tits smushed against the mattress, back arched, ass pressed back into Rafayel's fingers as incoherent little mumbles left your mouth. Much to his surprise though, you weren't just cumming from him slapping your clit--you were squirting. A stream of wetness covered your thighs and his torso, his eyes widened at the sight as he continued forcing his palm down against your flesh.

"Fuckkk you are sick. Making a puddle like this all over me--you tryna mark your territory or something, baby?" Before you could answer you felt his length slam past your entrance once again, somehow stretching you more than before as you quivered and shook, your orgasm still coursing through your body.

"Wait wait please--fuck slow down..." It was no use, his palm was against your mouth once more, your juices covering his skin, the taste of your own wetness soaking your lips.

"Speaking privileges revoked, once again. If you're not gonna use your mouth to say something smart, then you should just be quiet all together, huh? You're sick, aren't you? You're a nasty slut--let daddy give you your medicine, baby. Let me make you a good girl again." His grip on your face forced your back to arch even more than before, pulling you up from the mattress, your back against his chest. It wasn't until now that he saw your face, eyes low, hair glued to your forehead with sweat, your neck glistening from the spit that had dripped down past your lips--but it was the tears that he liked the most, the way your little wet eyelashes looked, the pouty pleading gaze... he could've came right then.

"Fuck...can I tell you something, sweet girl?" All you could do was sob and moan out against his palm.

"You're pretty when you cry." he whispered, placing the softest kiss to your wet cheek. "Make another mess for me, will you? I wanna see this pussy cry again too, angel."

a/n: okayyyy sorry for being MIA. full transparency, i started taking antidepressants a few weeks ago and they make me have like NO sex drive at all. until today i randomly thought about fucking rafayel, so i decided to fill one of my asks. anywayyyy hope you enjoy, specifically the person that asked for this. have a good day, lovelies xx

[somnoir]

Damian's future husband

Got inspired by this specific line in a Tumblr thread and my brain went to work

Phantom was a strange hero—a vigilante that often worked with Justice League Dark. Constantine was always so antsy around the man, while Phantom himself often muttered about taxes and blasted fragments whenever said trech coat man was in the vicinity.

The Bats were, of course, initially apprehensive of the death defying being that could rip a man skeleton out of their body, manipulate space itself to rip open portals to different dimensions, and vanish better than they did. They were wary, mildly hostile after realising that Phantom had now issue killing.

But then time passed and Phantom was proven to not be a serial killer but only used killing as a last resort. Though Batman wasn't too pleased, he was—begrudgingly—tolerant of that. Because, yes, Phantom was a nice guy, a very likeable person in general. He made sure that the environmental damage during battles were kept to a minimum, he chose civilians over the enemy whenever it came to hostage situations, he was tactile and kind, and he cared so much for the innocent that he was willing to lose his innocence to keep theirs.

Of course Batman was fond of the young man, especially when he found out that Jason of all people had some sort of crush on him. A very big and almost pathetic one that he and Alfred would watch while sipping tea.

Seriously, Jason was his son! Has he not learned anything from his Brucie persona? The poor thing was like a Victorian maiden and would be scandalised at the mere thought of showing an ankle.

It was embarrassing how he'd practically start blue screening the moment Phantom was in the vicinity. As a father, Bruce was gracious enough not to bully his poor son whenever it came to Phantom. His siblings, on the other hand, held no such qualms and mercilessly dug into Jason.

In all honesty, he pitied Jason after hearing that Phantom assumed that Jason just didn't like him.

He really had to talk to him.

"You fucking hypocrite."

And that was a failure because Bruce forgot that he was just as constipated as his son.

"I'm not taking advice from the man who couldn't even try to be softer in his secret crush!"

With that, Jason slammed the door and left.

Okay... Plan B?

But what the hell was plan B?

Right.

Dick Grayson.

Bruce: About your brother...

Bird child #1: OH MY GOD

Bird child #1: THANK FUCK YOU FINALLY MENTIONED IT

Bruce: it's become an issue

Bruce: Alfred has commented that it's pathetic now.

Bird child #1: Wait wait

Bird child #1: I'll add you to the group chat!

And this Bruce Wayne found himself in a GC named 'Phantom of the Watchtower'. Along with all the complaints expressed by both family and friends when it came to Jason's bullshit.

Ah well... At least he wasn't alone in the suffering.

(Jason did not need to know that there was a video of him grappling through Gotham, Phantom passing by and waving at him, and Jason proceeding to hit a wall mid flight.)

Dick knows that his little wing has had trouble in relationships for a long time. His resurrection changed him, changed how he perceived his relationships. Dick didn't have the heart to be mad about it.

Phantom's arrival was a breath of fresh air for them.

But he suspects that Jason's attraction began with the fact that Phantom had died young as well. Fourteen from what was said. He had died much younger than Jason and had came back a hero, willing to protect the innocent and do what was best for those around him. Sometimes Dick suspects that Jason not only wanted to be with Phantom, but also to be similar to him.

Now he's watching Jason fumble with his words again, immediately going quiet once he realized that nothing coherent was coming out of his mouth. The helmet most likely hid how red his face was.

"Are you alright?" Phantom asked, frowning up at Jason. "You don't feel too good. Is the corrupted ecto acting up again? Oh, I knew I should have sped up the process of removing it but then it'd be very painful if I did it at once. And Frostbite recommended that we went slowly so we could monitor the side effect... And, and—"

"I'm okay." Red Hood immediately assured, his hand practically flying to Phantom's cheek then he shoved it down before he could even touch Phantom. "It's been a long day."

"Is the Joker out again?" Phantom's frown deepened.

Another thing Dick has learned about the dead and the undead! The fact that their murderer was still active unsettled then greatly and affected their entire mentality and behaviour.

"No. No. He hasn't tried escaping."

Phantom hummed, "I see. So what's bothering you."

"It's nothing." Jason grunted, sounding a little too much like Bruce for Dick's liking.

Okay, nope, he wasn't going to let this continue if his baby brother was going to continue making Phantom assumed he didn't like him. Nightwing to the rescue!

"Phantom! Hi!" Nightwing quite literally dropped into the alley, running his fingers through his hair and smoothly directing Jason away from whatever catastrophic misunderstanding he was walking into.

"Hello Nightwing! It's nice to see you again? How's Kori? Oooh! I wanted to invite her to a space date again—" He rambled on and on, eyes practically starry. Wait, nevermind. His eyes really were starry.

(Meanwhile, Jason was cursing his older brother for taking the attention from but also very thankful that Phantom didn't have to witness his stupidity again.)

Tim had noticed that the Joker hasn't attempted to break out in a long... Long time.

It's not a bad thing, no. It was great, in all honesty. But of course, Tim was paranoid, almost batshir crazy (pun intended, in the words of his damn boyfriends). The surveillance feed on Arkham was updated a long time ago, watching it very closely until static overtook the screen.

"Replacement," Tim startled, blinking before he saw Jason peering at him with a questioning look. Practically interrogating him on the spot. "The hell is that?"

"I don't know." Tim clicked his tongue, "This hasn't happened after Babs and I updated those damn cameras. Fuck, give me a second..."

"Did the Joker get out?" Jason practically growled.

"No, no. I'm sure he didn't. He would have been causing trouble by now." Tim reassured, clicking his tongue again before the feed went back to normal. Joker's cell seemed perfectly fine, with the Joker fast asleep on his little cot. "See, just some static. Maybe Phantom passed by."

The mere mention of Phantom has Jason blue screening, instincts kicking in as his older brother shoved his helmet over his head again. Then the idiot gets on his bike and speeds out of the cave.

Coward.

Tim whipped his head around, quickly surveying the area.

The static wasn't random. Phantom always had to be in front of the camera to directly affect the feed. So thank fuck when he made friends with Phantom's teammate—Pharaoh—and figured out how to fix any distorted imagery.

He sees Phantom standing over the Joker's unconscious body, plunging his hand into the maniac's chest and pulled out a glowing green orb. A core, from what he remembered. Holy shit, was the Joker a ghost too?

But he saw how Phantom seemed to put restraints around it, literal chains before shoving it back inside.

Slowly, Phantom turned to the camera, his entire figure still distorted, but he could see that fanged grin that his brother seemed to swoon over.

(The Joker was still alive, very much, but no one could understand how he was stuck in an almost permanent coma. Tim wasn't going to give Jason even more reason to start giggling over Phantom, unless he wanted to ruin the entire Dead on Main operation.)

Damian did not quite understand the insanity that was multiple individuals (including those that were not of their brood) attempting to matchmake Todd with Phantom. He didn't understand what was so great about Phantom, in all honesty.

He was heroic, powerful, and quite intelligent. Many people held similar traits. Perhaps it was the fact that he was a deathly being that attracted Todd in the first place.

"Hello, Robin!" Phantom greeted one day, eyes shimmering like the stars in his cape. "Superboy said you had something to tell me?"

Damian shifted slightly, "Yes. Are you aware of the Lazarus Pits?"

"Ah... Yes, of course. My court and I have been trying to destroy all of them. The Lazarus is corrupted ectoplasm that has been mixed with filth of all kinds." Phantom hummed.

"Filth of all kinds... Disgusting." Damian frowned, nose scrunching up at the memory that he's bathed in those pits before. "But I digress. I would like to assist in the destruction of the pits. Father and the rest of the family has fretted over my grandfather's pits for many years and we have barely grazed the surface on what the Lazarus truly was."

"I see! I was planning on asking Batman to help out on that. But since you've already asked, would you like to come to the Realms? I'm sure you can interrogate some of the ghosts your grandfather has wronged." Phantom grinned, already offering Damian a hand. He was floating, while Damian stood in the roof and stared at the hand.

It reminded him of the kryptonians. But Phantom's hand was cold and he didn't yank Damian the same way Jon often did.

No, Phantom took Damian's hand and then proceeded to hook an arm around Damian's waist, pulling him of the roof and into the air. And then they were flying into a glowing green portal that reminded Damian of the pits.

The moment they were in the infinite realms, Damian felt the overwhelming pressure of the dead. He swallowed the bile that rose from his throat as Phantom set him down on solid ground. The entire place felt eerie and strange, of course it was. This was the afterlife.

"Right, I forgot." Phantom cursed, "You're not as liminal as my family. Give me a second, baby bat." He murmured, his hand glowing green before it's gently pushed into Damian's chest. A sudden wave of warmth overtook his entire body and Damian stared at the ghost.

"I'm giving you a bit of Ecto to reduce any discomfort here in the realms. It'll flush itself out in 24 hours so don't worry about becoming overly liminal." Phantom smiled softly, before he offered his hand to Damian again. "Let's go? I have to stop by my keep to check the records of Al Ghuls victims."

"Of course."

And instead of being carried like a cat, Phantom picked him up bridal style and flew past what seemed to be floating islands and towards a large red and purple castle.

Is this was Todd feels? Damian asked himself, oddly enjoying this experience.

The moment they landed—

"Your majesty!" A floating eyeball yelled, rushing towards them. "You've brought an outsider—"

"Away with you." Phantom snapped, a crown and cape of stars suddenly appearing on him. "This is Robin. Ra's Al Ghul's grandchild."

"The Demon's head..."

"Yes, now shoo." Phantom snapped, before leading Damian away from the eyeball. "I'm sorry for my Observants. They're a conservative bunch."

"You are a king?"

"Mhm... Though I don't like to advertise it. The last king was a tyrant and I defeated him a little while after my death. I never intended to be king, in all honesty. But here I am." He gestured to the crown of fire and ice and the cape of stars. His grin was strained and quite troubled but he didn't mind leading Damian towards a large room filled with bigger files.

"Now, would you like to search yourself or do you want me to have someone else do it?"

Damian grimaced at the sight. "I'd prefer for someone else to suffer."

And that's how Damian found himself touring the realms, with Phantom happily bringing Damian to the arena where a ghost named Skulker awaited them. The man was a hunter, respectful towards Phantom yet troublesome as he challenged him. Phantom looked utterly annoyed, before he turned to Damian with sparkling eyes.

"What about you, Robin?"

And then Damian was fighting everyone and everything in the realms at the behest and amusement of Phantom. The ghost king provided him with different weapons each time an enemy switched.

It's only when they returned to the land of the living that he's informed that any weapon he's used is now his.

And he has a cat with him! The ghost of a small yet ferocious kitten that had his under Phantom's cape whilst Damian and other ghosts fought to glorious battle. Phantom kindly offered her to him, naming her Astra with the star shaped pupils in her eyes.

Damian is quite sure he has fallen in love.

Damian returns to the manor, utterly awestruck and infatuated. Thankfully (unfortunately), Todd is in attendance when Phantom carries him out of the portal, still held in a bridal carry with Damian actively clinging to Phantom like he had hung the stars (maybe he did).

"Sorry if we worried you! Robin wanted to help with our Lazarus problems since it's also your problem too." Phantom quickly explains once he saw Batman's troubled expression. "Don't worry about your gifts. I'll figure out a way to make you a dimensional bag."

Damian stared, "May I visit the realms again? If you would be amendable to it."

"Of course! You're my favorite, so why wouldn't I?"

Hah! Hear that? Take that, Todd!

Phantom vanishes into his portal seconds later, leaving Damian with the most beautiful and intricated sword in his hands. Blinking quietly, he whirled around and pointed the sword at Jason, who instinctively went into a battle stance.

"You may be my brother, Todd, but if you have not married Phantom once I am of age, I shall fight for his hand in marriage himself."

(Jason knows very well that Damian isn't joking and proceeds to practically plan the most novel-esque confession to date. Jane Austen might just be proud.)

Masterpost

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

HEAD OVER HEELS

drew starkey x fem!reader

(mood board does NOT depict readers appearance !!)

SUMMARY: in which drew starkey is head over heels in love with his girlfriend, y/n.

based on this ask !! i really hope you like this anon, you didn’t request a specific plot so i went with this :)

WARNINGS: pure fluff, obsessed!drew but in a cutie patootie way !! (lmk if i missed anything !!)

A/N: i promise guys i will sort out making a master list tonight !! for now, click on my personalised tags like #bettys asks !!

WORD COUNT: 1k

THIRD PERSON +

Drew couldn't stop talking about her. His girlfriend, Y/N, that is.

His castmates on the Outer Banks set had long since grown used to it, though they still teased him mercilessly. It wasn't unusual for him to pull out his phone between takes and scroll through pictures of her, showing anyone who would listen. Even Chase joked once, "You know, Drew, we've all met her. You don't have to keep proving she exists."

But Drew didn't care. He loved talking about her. Loved the way her smile lit up his entire day, the way her laughter felt like sunshine breaking through clouds. Y/N was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he wasn't shy about letting everyone know it.

"She's visiting today," Drew announced, a giddy grin spreading across his face as he leaned against the craft services table.

Madelyn raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching in amusement. "You've only mentioned that about a hundred times this week."

"Yeah, and what's your point?" Drew shot back, unbothered. He grabbed a bottle of water and opened it, taking a sip before adding, "I just can't wait for you guys to see her again. She's incredible."

Madelyn exchanged a knowing look with Rudy, who was attempting (and failing) to suppress a laugh.

When Y/N finally arrived on set that afternoon, Drew spotted her instantly. She stepped out of the car, her hair slightly tousled from the coastal breeze, and his entire world seemed to pause. She was wearing his favorite sundress—the one he'd told her once made her look like a walking daydream—and he couldn't stop the wide, lovesick smile that overtook his face.

"Y/N!" Drew called out, practically sprinting toward her.

Before she could respond, he had her wrapped in his arms, lifting her off the ground as she let out a surprised laugh.

"Joseph Andrew Starkey! Put me down!" she exclaimed, though she was grinning just as much as he was.

"Not a chance," he replied, spinning her around once before finally setting her back on her feet. "God, I missed you."

"You saw me three days ago," she teased, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

"And that's three days too long," he said without missing a beat, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

It didn't take long for the rest of the cast to spot her. Chase and Rudy came over to say hi, both of them giving her warm hugs and cracking jokes about how Drew had been "insufferable" without her.

"You're a saint for putting up with him," Rudy quipped, earning a playful shove from Drew.

Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly as Drew laced their fingers together. "He's not so bad," she said, glancing up at Drew with a soft smile.

"Not so bad?" Drew repeated, feigning offense. "I'll have you know I'm the perfect boyfriend."

"And humble, too," she teased, nudging him lightly.

The group chatted for a while before Drew pulled her away, eager to have her to himself. He brought her to his trailer, where he'd set up a small surprise for her: a bouquet of her favorite flowers and a handwritten note resting on the table.

"Drew," she said softly, her eyes shining as she turned to look at him. "You didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to," he said, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around her waist. "You deserve it. You deserve everything."

She leaned into him, resting her head against his chest as she took a deep breath. "You're too good to me, you know that?"

"Not possible," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

For the rest of the day, Drew was glued to her side. He introduced her to everyone on set—again—even though most of them already knew her from her previous visits. But it didn't matter to Drew. He wanted to show her off, to let the world see just how amazing she was.

During breaks in filming, he would find her wherever she was sitting and drape himself over her like an oversized golden retriever. "You comfortable?" he'd ask, despite the fact that he was the one taking up all the space.

"Very," she'd reply, laughing as she adjusted to make room for him.

When it came time for Drew to shoot his scenes, Y/N watched from the sidelines, her eyes filled with pride. He'd glance over at her between takes, flashing her a grin or a wink, and her heart would flutter every time.

At one point, Madelyn leaned over to Y/N and whispered, "He's like this all the time, you know. Completely obsessed with you."

Y/N's cheeks turned pink, but she couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face. "I'm not complaining," she said softly, her gaze never leaving Drew.

By the time the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the set, Drew was practically attached to her hip. He posted a candid photo of her sitting on a beach chair, the ocean in the background and a soft smile on her face. The caption was simple: My favourite view.

"You're going to make people sick with how sweet you are," she joked when she saw the post.

"Good," he said, pulling her into his arms. "Let them be sick. I don't care."

That night, as they sat on the beach together, watching the waves crash against the shore, Drew couldn't help but feel like the luckiest guy in the world.

"I love you," he said suddenly, his voice soft but steady.

She turned to look at him, her eyes wide and a little surprised.

"I mean it," he continued, his gaze locked on hers. "I love you. More than anything."

A smile spread across her face, and she reached up to cup his cheek. "I love you too, Drew."

In that moment, with the stars beginning to twinkle above them and the sound of the ocean in the background, Drew felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be. With her.

Always with her.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was so sweet :’) there’s something about guys who are so lovesick and obsessed with their gf’s that just MELTS my heart😫

i’m still working my way through all my requests from oldest to newest (except a couple i got good inspiration for), so please be patient if you’ve recently requested something !! <3