#I would have done the vote here but it will obviously not actually be posted here for THEY-DELETED-MY-BLOG reasons

[satansknitwear]

We all love a democracy here, right??? Help me decide on the props for my first ~involved~ show set ✨😈

Go Vote!!!

[quinzzelx]

Eros

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Well....How do I put this. This is Porn with Plot. Filth, with a bit of an unhinged story. You're on a mission with Azriel. After an ambush, you get into a fight and find yourselves to be captured by some sick people. Word Count: 11K

Warnings: Smut, pure FILTH, a bit Angsty, Slight Dub!Con, Voyeurism, Canon typical Violence, blood, Mentions of Sex-trafficking, some type of sex pollen/potion, forced intimacy, porn with plot, 18+

A/N: Guys, I swear that I DID SEE the voting turned out to be Fluff, and I will be posting that one soon. BUT- please only read this if you feel comfortable with darker tones. I had to get this out here. Jeez, enjoy. ☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

Sometimes, bad things happen. In fact, they occur all too frequently, by all the gods' reckoning. Azriel could swear he attracted bad luck like a magnet. But this? He cursed under his breath, feeling as if fate were playing a cruel joke on him.

He groaned, frustration evident as his hand ran down his face. Of all times for misfortune to strike, it had to be while he was on a mission with you. "What?" You snapped at him, your eyes squinted in concentration as you struggled to fix the sheath of your dagger. With a huff of frustration, the dagger and its sheath fell to the ground, clinking and scattering. You muttered something under your breath, wincing as you shifted on the log you were perched upon.

Azriel paced in the small forest clearing, muttering to himself. "For fuck's sake, Rhys!" he shouted inwardly, though it proved futile. Hours had passed since he first attempted to reach Rhys, to no avail. Either they were too far away or something was interfering with the connection. "I can't reach Rhys."

You snorted at his statement, rolling your eyes. "No shit, Azriel. If you could, he'd be here by now." His jaw clenched, his narrowed eyes landing on your hunched form still seated on the log in the center of the clearing. They trailed over your injured left wing, twisted at an unnatural angle. With an irritated twitch of his upper lip, his scowl deepened.

"If you had paid attention while flying, we wouldn't be in this mess," he said, his tone harsher than intended.

"Excuse me?" Enraged, you stood up and marched toward him, your face contorted in anger, a slight limp accompanying each step. "I got shot by a damn Asharrow coated in Faebane!"

"Exactly!" He snarled, taking another step to close the distance between you. "How did that even happen?" A humorless laugh escaped you as you met his gaze. "Are you serious?"

When his expression only hardened, your anger resurfaced. "Oh, you really are serious!" You swallowed the lump in your throat, closing the distance between you and jabbing a pointed finger at his chest angrily. "You!" you hissed between gritted teeth. "If you had actually listened when I said I needed a break, I might have been able to pay more attention!"

In fact, you had asked for a break numerous times. However, the group you were tracking didn't seem to consider breaks necessary. They had been abducting young females and males all over Prythian for months. When they crossed into the borders of the Night Court and ambushed a small village, Rhysand had dispatched you two immediately. Several days had already passed since you crossed into Winter, and now you were venturing into Autumn territory.

Azriel growled lowly, catching your wrist with his hand to prevent you from stabbing at his chest again. "You obviously shouldn't have come on this mission then," he said, his voice as cold as ice. For some reason, Azriel was always harsher with you. You had tried, really tried to make him warm up to you, but this thick-headed male infuriated you like no one else. There had been a time when you would have called him a close friend, someone you could confide in.

You had met Cassian and Rhys in Windhaven on the day they first established that Wingclipping was forbidden and never to be done again. You had always found ways to avoid it, making yourself sick with different herbs and mushrooms, because for whatever reason and little morals the Illyrians held, they didn't want to clip a sick female's wings. The irony was beyond you, but it worked for some decades. That day, your uncle had found you preparing the mixture that made you sick and unleashed his wrath upon you. He had dragged you outside by your hair while you thrashed and clawed at him, begging him to let you keep your wings, pleading for mercy.

As if the Mother had heard your pleas, Rhys and Cassian arrived just as a group of men were holding you down to make an example out of you. Taking advantage of their temporary distraction, you kicked up at the jaw of your uncle holding you down, breaking it. He howled in agony, clutching at the broken bone. One of his friends tried to punch you then, but you dodged him, elbowing him in the gut and headbutting him when he fell to his knees.

In that moment, you probably looked like the personification of pure fury, blood dripping from your split lip, broken nose, and dislocated shoulder. Still, you fought, not only breaking these men's frail egos but also their weak bones. Rhysand was angry, standing tall and making a strong example out of their behavior, executing them for their act of treason and hurling insults at him. He was the High Lord, and no one was to disobey his orders. Cassian tended to you, helping with your shoulder and beaming proudly at you. He started training you from that day on. They had seen your sheer willpower, strength, and potential. And potential indeed. These days, you wore not one, but three siphons. Yes, you still weren't as powerful as Cassian or Azriel, but you weren't weak either. The average Illyrian had nothing on you.

They soon took you to Velaris with them, where you quickly found yourself becoming one of Mor's best friends. Azriel was always wary around you, distant at first. But for years, you had enjoyed talking to each other. Only in the past four had he become distant again, seemingly even disliking you and your company. And you found yourself becoming resentful too. You could have lived with it if you never got along in the first place, but this sudden change made you angry at yourself for ever having a crush on this stupid male in the first place!

"Fuck you, Azriel!" you spat at him, your head red with anger. Both of you had been flying for three days straight, resting only twice. You had only spotted the arrow at the last moment, dodging it just as it was about to strike your head. But despite your efforts, it found its mark, lodging right into your shoulder. A second arrow followed swiftly, tearing through one of your wings. The pain was excruciating, and a strong gust of wind threw you off balance, causing you to crash into Azriel with full force, sending both of you plummeting towards the ground. Azriel momentarily lost his bearings, only regaining focus when you hurtled past him. With powerful beats of his wings, he caught up to you and wrapped you in his arms, but it was too late to slow the momentum. Together, you crashed through the trees, branches tearing at your skin before slamming into the unforgiving ground.

"I'm just saying that maybe Rhys has overestimated your capability," he stated nonchalantly, lowering his gaze to meet yours. Ripping your hand away from his grasp, you shoved at his chest, your voice snarling with rising anger. "Yes, I'm sorry to burden you. Maybe next time I'll just free-fall and accept death with open arms."

Without thinking, anger consuming him, Azriel growled, "Maybe you should." Any retort you had died in your throat. Wide-eyed and shocked, you took a step back, and only then did he realize the gravity of his words. His own eyes widened, filled with regret as he reached out to you, flinching when you dodged him and hurried to retrieve your dropped dagger. "Wait—I—" he called out, stepping toward you, desperate to take back his words. He cursed himself as tears pricked at your eyes. "No, I understood perfectly," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. With one swift motion, you shouldered your bag and walked toward the opposite treeline.

Azriel's heart clenched as he called your name again, pleading for you to wait, to let him apologize and take back his words. But you cut him off, saying, "I'll scout the surroundings, see if I can find anything useful," before disappearing into the woods. He cursed himself once more, sending some of his shadows after you. Splitting up was dangerous, especially when enemies were nearby. Defeated, Azriel sank onto the log you had occupied earlier, sighing heavily as he buried his head in his hands. "Rhys," he spoke again, reaching out to his brother, "We were ambushed, and I messed up." As he sat there, waiting, his hazel eyes scanning the darkening sky, he cursed himself again.

A while later, a twig snapped to his right, and his head whipped around. Had you finally returned? His shadows frantically warned of danger. Standing up, he gripped Truthteller tightly, ready to face whatever came his way.

"Behind you!" his shadows screamed, but before he could react, a blunt object struck his head, and a syringe found its way into his neck. With a grunt, he collapsed to the ground.

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Something was definitely amiss. Azriel's senses felt muddled, his consciousness drifting in and out like waves against a shore. Hadn't he just been... flying? No, he was on a mission. Flying, no, falling. A groan escaped his lips as dizziness overwhelmed him. He attempted to rub a hand over his face to clear his thoughts, but something restrained his wrists, pulling against his movements with a metallic clink. Groggily, he tried to pry his eyes open, but they felt heavy, weighted down by an impenetrable darkness. Panic stirred within him as he struggled against his bindings, the realization sinking in that he was not where he should be. Where was he? And more importantly, where were you? His brows furrowed in frustration as he tugged on his other arm, only to find it chained as well.

"Fuck!." Whipping his head around, an alarming feeling of unease settled in the pit of his stomach. Surveying his surroundings, he noted the darkness but discerned the wooden floor. Good, this meant he was either in a village or some kind of building. His arms were chained to the ground next to his body, where he sat leaning against the wall. Confusion swept over him when he realized his legs were relatively free to move. Chains wrapped around his ankles, but the chain was longer. He surmised he could walk around the whole room if he wasn't anchored to the ground by his arms.

His eyes continued to sweep through the dark room, gradually adjusting to the dimness as he squinted, attempting to focus on what lay on the other side of the room. At the other side of the room, a table gradually emerged from the darkness, its silhouette becoming clearer to Azriel's eyes. As he discerned more barely-there furniture, a sense of dread washed over him. This was no ordinary room. It was a torture chamber, though unlike any he was familiar with from Hewn City. Whips, clamps, syringes, and various other implements of torture adorned the space, along with devices he couldn't even identify. His gaze lingered on a table adorned with chain locks, clearly intended to restrain victims.

Chains were strewn everywhere, giving the room an ominous and foreboding atmosphere. What kind of place was this? The smell assaulted his senses—blood, urine, and something else, something sickeningly familiar yet repulsive: arousal. His stomach churned in disgust at the realization of the horrors that had taken place within these walls. He attempted to summon his shadows, hoping for their familiar comfort and assistance, but nothing responded. Faebane. His heart sank at the realization of the poison's presence. Determination fueled his actions as he tried once more to pull on his restraints, but a piercing scream from outside the room froze him in place.

"Don't touch me!" Your voice, muffled yet unmistakable, sent panic coursing through him. Gritting his teeth, he ripped and tugged at his chains with renewed force. Outside, commotion ensued, accompanied by the creaking of a door. The sounds of struggle intensified, punctuated by a sharp slap that echoed through the room, causing Azriel's eyes to narrow in anger. "She damn well bit me," someone exclaimed amid the chaos. More noise followed, and then the door swung open fully, allowing light to seep into the room as several figures stumbled in, three of them carrying your thrashing form. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he took in your distressed state. You were cursing at them, fighting back with every bit of strength you could still muster. His eyes quickly swept over you from across the room as they threw you onto the table with a force that elicited a loud crack.

His heart stopped then. Where were your fighting leathers? What sick place was this? You were dressed in a white, very sheer and drenched dress that ended just above your knees. One of them grabbed your thigh forcefully, and he saw red. Screaming at them with a hoarse voice, Azriel struggled against his restraints, his muscles straining against the chains binding him to the ground. "Leave her alone, you bastards!" he roared, his voice echoing in the chamber. But his cries fell on deaf ears as they continued their assault on you, their intentions horrifyingly clear. One of the many males in the room laughed at Azriel's futile threats.

"Don't worry, Shadowsinger, your time will come," he taunted, his voice dripping with malice. Azriel clenched his jaw, his frustration mounting at his inability to protect you. As they chained you to the table, Azriel's panic surged. Your hands were bound together above your head, your legs hanging over the edge of the table and spread, tied to each leg. The sight sent a surge of fury coursing through him. "What is this? What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice thick with rage and desperation. But his questions were met with only sinister chuckles from the assailants.

Your eyes met Azriel's, and something washed over your features—a mixture of desperation and fear. "Please," you choked out, your voice trembling with emotion, "I beg you, not in front of him." Azriel's heart clenched at your plea, his gaze filled with anguish and determination. Despite his restraints, he struggled against the chains binding him, his muscles straining with the effort. "I won't let them touch you," he vowed, his voice laced with fierce resolve. Though powerless to act, his eyes conveyed a silent promise. The one who had spoken earlier chuckled darkly as the others moved to silence you, advancing with a gag. Your head thrashed around in a desperate attempt to fend them off.

Your body trembled, chest heaving, the wet white dress clinging to your form like a second skin, barely concealing anything. It left little to the imagination, the cold causing your nipples to harden as you fought against them, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. Your black wings, a stark contrast against the white fabric, remained spread out behind you, a symbol of your strength and defiance even in this vulnerable state.

Azriel's heart twisted with anguish as he watched their hands on your wings, holding you down, causing you to shiver and writhe even more. A soft whine and gasp escaped you involuntarily, the sound tearing at his soul. Fury contorted Azriel's face as he snarled at them, his anger palpable. "Dare to touch her again, and I will cut your hands off," he growled, his voice dripping with venom. But his threats were met with mocking laughter from the group, their disdain evident in their sneers.

"How would you manage that chained to the ground?" one of them taunted, their words dripping with cruelty. The group, consisting of about ten males and some females, settled a little farther away, some taking seats while others remained standing beside you. Azriel's rage burned hotter at their mockery, his muscles tensing with the urge to break free and unleash his wrath upon them. Your chest heaved, teeth sinking into the cloth they had used to gag you as you struggled against their restraint. Seeking solace in Azriel's unwavering gaze amidst the chaos surrounding you, your eyes locked onto his. "You see, we were kind of growing bored of watching High Fae," the male spoke again, his tone laced with malice. He was tall, fatter than the others, with grey hair and a posture exuding arrogance. Confusion flickered between you and Azriel as you listened. "You still haven't figured out what we do?"

Azriel's anger burned fiercely as he glared at them, his fists clenched in impotent rage. The male continued, revealing their twisted motives. They watched prisoners engage in sexual acts or forced themselves upon them, all while testing out new weapons, torture devices, and potions. They reveled in the power they wielded over their captives. "And when we found out the High Lord of the Night Court sent two Illyrians after us?" The fat, grey-haired man sneered, his voice filled with twisted excitement. "Well, well, it seemed like we're in for quite the treat. Illyrians are known for their stamina and prowess after all."

"You two especially are a treat to look at," the male leered, his gaze lingering on your exposed form with undisguised lust. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but anger burned brighter in your eyes as you glared at him. "Rumor has it," he began, circling around the table you were strapped onto, his voice dripping with malicious intent, "that Illyrian wings are very sensitive." He punctuated his words with a sinister smile, sending a chill down your spine. Azriel's eyes widened with horror as he watched the man's dirty hands trail over the delicate membrane of your wings.

A growl rumbled deep in his throat, but he remained trapped, his muscles tensed with the urge to break free and tear the man limb from limb. You couldn't suppress an embarrassed moan as the man's fingers grazed over a particularly sensitive spot on your wing, the sensation sending shivers down your spine and igniting a blush on your cheeks. Illyrians were notoriously protective of their wings; allowing someone else to touch them was considered a significant display of trust. The violation of this boundary filled you with a sense of vulnerability and violation, intensifying your anger and humiliation in the face of such blatant disrespect. The dirty male's gaze shifted back to Azriel, lifting Truthteller in his hand, a cruel smirk playing on his lips as he brandished Azriel's own dagger.

"You see, Shadowsinger, we've got ourselves a little experiment planned," he said, his voice oozing with malice. Azriel's eyes narrowed, a cold fury simmering beneath the surface as he listened intently. "We've got this new love potion we've been itching to try out," the man continued, his tone sickeningly cheerful. "And we thought, what better way to test it than on our favorite pair of Illyrians? "Azriel's shock was evident, his voice laced with disbelief. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, but we are," the man chuckled darkly. "You and the lady here," he gestured toward you with a lewd grin, "will be our little test-subjects. One of you will get the pleasure of enjoying its effects firsthand." Azriel's heart sank at the realization of what they were proposing. He couldn't bring himself to do something so violating to you, not like this. Though he had harbored certain thoughts about you, this was beyond anything he had ever imagined. "I will not do that to her," he declared through gritted teeth, his voice laced with defiance and disgust. The look on your face was difficult to decipher, a mixture of fear, anger, and betrayal evident in your tear-filled eyes.

As someone approached with a syringe filled with a blue liquid, your breath caught in your throat. The cold sting of the needle piercing your skin sent shivers down your spine, your body trembling with a sense of dread. The male's smirk widened as he used Truthteller to cut the dress from your body, exposing your breasts and leaving you vulnerable and exposed before their leering eyes. The effects of the potion began to take hold, distorting your senses and leaving you in a state of heightened arousal. Your pupils dilated, your chest heaving with each ragged breath, and your legs trembling beneath you as the drug coursed through your veins.

"Lorsh," the man called for another male, summoning him to join their twisted game. As Lorsh stepped forward, rising from his chair with predatory intent, a sense of dread washed over you. "If our Shadowsinger won't do the honor, you can have her," the man declared, his words sending a chill down your spine. No, this couldn't be happening. You shook your head slightly, trying to fight against the effects of the potion as your gaze turned to Azriel once more, silently pleading for him to intervene.

Azriel's heart clenched with desperation as he watched the scene unfolding before him. He couldn't bear to see you subjected to such degradation, such violation. With a ferocity that echoed off the walls, Azriel's voice cut through the tense atmosphere. "Don't you dare touch her! I swear, I'll break your hands before I let you lay another finger on her!" His words dripped with a protective fury, his eyes ablaze with a primal instinct to shield you from any harm.

"I'll do it," he declared, his voice trembling with a mixture of rage and resolve, "but not at the expense of her dignity. I'll be the one." A sickening delight spread across the male's face as he licked his lips, relishing in the twisted power play unfolding before him. With a gesture, he commanded another to throw the key for the arm chains to Azriel, a malicious grin playing on his lips as he watched the exchange.

As Azriel caught the key, the man retreated, his voice dripping with a sickening satisfaction. "You see, these chains on your legs will keep you tethered to this table," he clarified, his tone filled with sadistic amusement. "But don't get any ideas about getting close enough to kill us. You won't succeed." Azriel's jaw clenched with frustration at the limitations of his movements, but his resolve remained unbroken. As Azriel hurried towards you, relief flickered in your eyes as you locked gazes once more. Stopping in front of you, Azriel's heart hammered in his chest as he faced the daunting task ahead. His mind raced with possibilities, seeking a way to ensure your safety amidst the chaos surrounding you. "You may do as you please with her," the male declared, his voice dripping with malicious intent.

Azriel's heart sank at the man's words, grappling with the limitations imposed upon him. "Can I untie her?" he asked, his voice tinged with desperation. If he could free you from the table, maybe you could fight your way out of this nightmare. If unchained, you could reach a weapon and turn the tide.

But his hopes were dashed as the man's cruel decree fell upon his ears. "No, you can free her from the table if you must, but you cannot completely unbind her hands," the man stated, his words a death sentence to Azriel's hopes. "They will stay tied together." The look on Azriel's face was one of pure sorrow.

Determination surged through him as Azriel clenched his jaw, bracing himself to make this ordeal as bearable as possible for you. With steady hands, he reached for the gag, untying it and freeing your mouth from its suffocating restraint. Next, he carefully loosened the straps that held your arms and legs in place, his movements deliberate and gentle.

As he brushed against your skin, a jolt of electricity coursed through him at the sinful sound of your moan. His heart clenched with both guilt and longing as the realization of the drug's effects washed over him. “I’m sorry.” Your apology only added to the turmoil raging within him, a bleak reminder of the violation of your consent. His voice trembled with uncertainty as Azriel locked eyes with you, his own turmoil mirrored in your gaze. "Is this okay?" he asked, his words barely more than a whisper, filled with a desperate plea for reassurance amidst the chaos. Your nod was barely perceptible, accompanied by a whimper that tugged at Azriel's heartstrings. "I don't mind if it's you," you whispered, your voice trembling with vulnerability and trust.

Azriel's breath caught in his throat at your words, relief and distress flooding through him. His gaze lingered over your exposed form, desire and guilt warring within him. Despite the circumstances, he couldn't deny the allure of your beauty, the vulnerability you displayed beneath him. Guilt washed over him as arousal stirred, his body responding to the primal urge.

Swallowing hard, he fought to rein in his need, guiding your hands from above your head to rest on your stomach. As he intertwined his fingers with yours, he felt your whine of anticipation reverberate through him, igniting a heat between your spread legs. "Look at me," he murmured softly, seeking to soothe you. "I'm here," he whispered, filled with reassurance. "I'll keep you safe."

But beneath the reassurances lay desire. "I'll make you forget they're watching," he promised, leaning closer, his breath hot against your skin. "In this moment, it's just you and me," he continued, a promise of intimacy amidst the chaos. "I'll show you pleasure beyond anything you've known." Each word dripped with longing. "I want to make it better for you," he murmured, his voice husky with desire as he leaned closer, his lips grazing your earlobe. "Tell me what you need."

As your body trembled beneath him, a surge of arousal coursed through Azriel at your vulnerability. "Touch me, please," you pleaded, your voice shaky with need. His heart clenched with longing as he resisted his own desires, focusing instead on easing your discomfort.

"It hurts, Azriel," you whispered, anguish and need evident in your voice. His own arousal forgotten, he concentrated solely on comforting you. "I'll make it better," he vowed, determination lacing his voice as he sought to ease your suffering and fulfill your desperate longing for pleasure.

Tears streamed down your flushed cheeks as you squeezed his hand, seeking comfort. "I'm sorry, this is all my fault," you whimpered, self-blame and anguish evident in your trembling voice and quivering lip. Azriel's heart ached at your words, the weight of your guilt heavy upon him. "No, it's not your fault," he murmured softly, his voice tender as he wiped away your tears. "None of this is your fault."

Ignoring the sickening gaze of the others, Azriel clenched his jaw with fury. With a deep breath, he leaned forward to whisper in your ear, his voice low and intense. "I will end them," he growled softly, promising to protect you at any cost. "Every last one of them." As he felt his powers surging back, an ancient energy thrumming beneath his skin, he knew he had to bide his time, to wait for the perfect moment to strike.

Leaning back slightly, his gaze locked with yours, a smoldering heat burning in his eyes. "How do you want me?" he murmured, his voice husky with desire as he sought to give you control in a situation where you had none. "Az..Need you" Face constricted in pure longing you sucked in your bottom lip. With a thoughtful expression, he trailed his finger down your trembling form, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you both. Lower and lower he traced, until he reached the boundary where the drenched fabric of your dress began again.

"Here?" he murmured, his voice husky as he gazed over your pubic bone, his eyes smoldering with heat. Your mewl of pleasure echoed in the air, the sensation of his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. With a whimper of agreement, you nodded eagerly, your face contorted in pure longing as you looked up at him through thick lashes. "Yes," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breathy whimper, your body writhing under his touch as you surrendered yourself to him.

"Fine," he muttered, lust thick in his voice as he gave in to fervent longing. With a swift, almost savage motion, he ripped the last bit of the dress open, a low rumble escaping his throat. Your yelp mingled with a gasp of pleasure as your body was fully exposed to him, the sudden rush of sensation sending shivers down your spine. The air crackled with electricity as Azriel's gaze swept over your exposed form, his eyes dark as he drank in the sight of you.

Azriel's mind swirled with a tumult of conflicting emotions as he hovered over you, his fingers tracing patterns of guilt and desire on your trembling skin. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was responsible for the predicament you found yourself in. If only he had been more attentive, more cautious, none of this would have happened. But even as he berated himself for his mistakes, a dark, twisted part of him reveled in the power he held over you now.

As he watched you quiver under his touch, he felt a surge of arousal mingled with self-loathing wash over him. He was sick, twisted, and yet he couldn't deny the rush of pleasure that coursed through him at the sight of you laid bare before him.

Groaning in frustration, he narrowed his eyes, his resolve faltering momentarily before he forced himself to continue. Tracing a finger lower, he felt the tension in your body as you clenched your thighs, seeking relief from the overwhelming sensations that consumed you. But Azriel wouldn't allow it, not yet. With a growl, he forced your legs back open, his gaze fixed on your glistening core, evidence of your arousal under the influence of their vile drug. Deliberately, he brushed a finger through your folds, eliciting an intense reaction from you. Your body flinched, your core clenching around nothing but air as pleasure and pain collided within you.

A needy whine echoed through the room, reverberating off the walls as you squeezed your eyes shut in desperate longing. Azriel's eyes widened at the sound, his heart clenching with desire and fury. "Please, more. It hurts," you pleaded again, your voice thick with need. His jaw clenched as he fought the urge to unleash his fury upon those who had brought you to this state. You were suffering because of their sick, twisted games, and he swore to himself that they would pay dearly for it.

"I'm here, love," he cooed softly, his voice soothing. With a lazy motion, he began to draw circles on your sensitive bud, his touch both tender and electrifying. Finally, unable to resist any longer, he dragged two of his fingers down again, sinking them into your awaiting heat. A hiss escaped his lips as he felt you clench around his fingers immediately, your core desperately trying to draw them in. "Azriel," your voice left your lips in a sinful moan, sending a shiver of pleasure down his spine. He felt himself twitch in his pants at the way you said his name.

Picking up his pace, he arched his fingers, pumping them deeper. Unable to resist the intoxicating scent and taste of you, he leaned forward, carefully extending his tongue as he licked up from where his fingers were buried deep within you, moving steadily up to your sensitive bud before sucking on it with fervent hunger. A deep, guttural groan escaped his throat as the taste of you flooded his senses. You were on the brink of release, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as you whimpered and pleaded for more. Each flick of Azriel's tongue, each harsh suck on your bundle of nerves sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your trembling form.

When his mouth left your clit after one final, intense suck, you heard a groan from the corner of the room. Azriel's keen senses immediately picked up on your movement as you started to turn your head toward the source of the sound, but his other hand, not the one still buried deep inside you, found your face, forcing you to look back at him.

His expression was stern, his gaze piercing as he locked eyes with you. "Eyes on me," he ordered, his voice commanding yet filled with a tenderness that belied the intensity of the moment. "Watch as I make you come." With a firm yet gentle touch, he guided your gaze back to his, his eyes burning with a fierce determination to pleasure you beyond measure. And as you obediently focused on him, the weight of the room and its twisted audience faded into the background.

You watched Azriel with rapt attention as his fingers worked wonders inside you, driving you to the edge of ecstasy with each skillful thrust. Your hips instinctively met his movements, grinding against his hand in a desperate quest for release. Despite the intensity of the moment, Azriel's concentration remained focused elsewhere.

His shadows slithered through the room, silent and deadly, creeping toward their unsuspecting victims. One shadow had already retrieved Truthteller, waiting patiently for its master's command. As you soared to the peak of pleasure, your body convulsing with the force of your climax, you released a torrent of ecstasy, squirting all over Azriel's hand and leathers.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice a low growl of satisfaction as he allowed you to use his fingers to ride out your orgasm. But as you basked in the afterglow, the lust in Azriel's eyes gave way to a chilling darkness. With deliberate slowness, he withdrew his fingers from you, straightening his back as he met your gaze. Parting his lips, he slowly sucked the remnants of your arousal from his fingers, cleaning them off with a deliberate thoroughness.

And then, in the blink of an eye, he unleashed his wrath upon the twisted individuals in the room. His shadows surged forward, wrapping around the unsuspecting males, snapping their bones with lethal precision. Some shadows slithered into their lungs, suffocating them with tendrils of darkness. Truthteller gleamed in his hand as he swiftly dispatched nearly all of them, their bodies falling lifeless to the ground within seconds. But he saved the one who had dared to touch your wings earlier for last. As the man's eyes widened in fear, Azriel loomed over him, his Siphons glowing bright with unleashed power.

"You filthy male," Azriel's voice was ice-cold, his words dripping with contempt as he confronted the perpetrator. "Enjoy watching helpless Fae get violated?" With lightning speed, he caught the man's wrists, his shadows swirling around them as the room was consumed by darkness.

For each finger he severed with Truthteller, Azriel delivered a damning sentence. "This one," he intoned with chilling precision, "is for touching her wings."

“This one," he hissed with lethal intent, "is for the innocence you defiled." The blade sliced through flesh and bone effortlessly, leaving a trail of severed digits in its wake.

With each finger severed, Azriel's voice grew colder, more menacing. "And this one," he continued, his tone dripping with venom, "is for the fear you inflicted." The man's agonized screams filled the room, mingling with the sound of metal meeting flesh.

As the bloodied fingers littered the ground, Azriel's gaze bore into the man's soul, his eyes ablaze with righteous fury. "Remember this," he spat, his voice a low, ominous rumble, "for every drop of her pain, you will pay tenfold." Azriel's grip tightened around Truthteller as he gazed down at the mutilated figure before him. With a swift, calculated motion, he brought the blade down once more, severing the man's remaining hand with grim determination. "Shame that I cannot take my time with you," he muttered, his voice devoid of mercy, as he plunged Truthteller through the man's throat.

While the male gurgled and choked on his own blood, Azriel withdrew the blade with a steely resolve. With a final, lethal thrust, he ensured the man's demise, his shadows already dispersing to scout the building for any remaining threats and to locate proper attire for you both. Breathing heavily, Azriel attempted to quell the raging storm of fury within him, the splatter of blood marring his face and clothes serving as a grim reminder of the savagery he had unleashed. In that moment, he longed for the confines of his torture chamber in Hewn City, where he could have taken his time with these vile creatures.

A soft cry pierced the air, drawing Azriel's attention. With a start, he turned to find you on the ground, trembling on all fours, the remnants of your once-white dress clinging to your form. With swift, purposeful strides, he approached you, his expression unreadable as he assessed your condition. Blood and tears mingled on your face, your trembling form a testament to the horrors you had endured.

Kneeling beside you, Azriel reached out a hand, his touch surprisingly gentle as he brushed aside strands of hair plastered to your sweat-soaked skin. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with an undercurrent of concern. Despite the fury still raging within him, a flicker of something akin to tenderness sparked in his eyes as he gazed upon you.

Without waiting for your response, he moved to free you from the remnants of the torn dress and chains, his movements efficient but careful. As the fabric fell away, revealing the bruises and welts marring your skin, a surge of anger welled up within him once more. "I'll get you out of here," he vowed, his tone firm.

With a deft motion, he wrapped his cloak around you that his shadows had brought, shielding you from prying eyes and offering a semblance of protection against the chill of the night. "Hold on to me," he instructed, his voice commanding yet oddly comforting. "We're leaving this place, and I won't let anyone harm you further."

Rising to his feet, Azriel gathered you into his arms, holding you close as he carried you from the chamber of horrors. As you clung to him, he swore to himself that he would never let anyone hurt you again.

Azriel winnowed you to the inn they had booked a room in three days prior, the exertion causing him to stumble slightly upon arrival. Despite his weariness, he carried you with care to the bathroom, settling you down before running a bath. Your silence weighed heavily in the air, your gaze fixed ahead as if lost in the depths of your own thoughts.

"I'm so sorry you had to endure this," you finally spoke, the words heavy with emotion.

Rushing to your side, Azriel gently cradled your face in his hands, his heart aching at the sight of your pain. "No, love, it's me who should be apologizing," he murmured, disbelief coloring his tone. "I failed to protect you, and I let those monsters lay a hand on you."

Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears as you shook your head, a soft sigh escaping your lips. "It wasn't your fault," you insisted, your voice barely above a whisper. "We were both in that situation together." Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I promise to make it up to you," he vowed, his voice laced with determination. "Starting with getting you cleaned up and taking care of you."

Feeling the lingering effects of the drug, you sank into the warm water with Azriel's assistance, trying to hide the discomfort that still gnawed at your senses. Despite your efforts, the telltale signs of your distress were evident to him, your body tensing at the slightest touch, your skin still flushed with fever.

Azriel noticed your unease, his brows furrowing in concern as he observed your strained movements. Gently, he reached out, his touch feather-light as he brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead. "Easy, love," he murmured soothingly, his voice a soft reassurance. "I'm here with you. Just relax, and let the water ease away the pain." Though his words offered comfort, you couldn't shake the lingering discomfort that coursed through your body. Despite your best efforts to hide it, Azriel's keen gaze didn't miss a thing, his eyes filled with empathy as he watched you struggle to find solace in the water's embrace.

With a gentle hand, he began to massage your shoulders, his touch tender yet firm as he worked to alleviate the tension that gripped your muscles. Gradually, you felt the knots begin to loosen, the warmth of the water seeping into your bones and offering a fleeting sense of relief. As Azriel massaged your shoulders, you couldn't suppress a slight whimper, the tension in your body betraying the pain that still lingered within you. Heat flooded your cheeks as you immediately apologized, feeling embarrassed by your body's involuntary response.

Azriel's movements faltered slightly at the sound, his senses heightened by the scent of your arousal that filled the air. Swallowing hard, he fought to keep his own desires in check, the tension between you palpable in the confined space of the bathroom.

You stuttered slightly as you tried to explain, your words coming out in fragmented whispers. "I'm sorry... I just..." Another whimper escaped your lips as you curled into yourself, pulling your legs to your chest in a feeble attempt to shield yourself from the discomfort that still plagued you. "It still hurts."

Azriel paused for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in as he contemplated his next move. When he spoke again, his voice was raspy and deep, tinged with sincerity. "Do you want me to help?" Your eyes widened at the question, your body trembling slightly as you shook your head. "Please don't do this because you pity me," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper.

Furrowing his brow, Azriel leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking with yours. "Believe me," he murmured, his tone firm and unwavering. "Me fucking you would have nothing to do with pity." His words hung heavy in the air, filled with conviction and a promise of something more profound than mere sympathy.  As you met his gaze, your pupils blown and cheeks flushed, uncertainty still lingered in your eyes. Azriel noticed, and in that moment of vulnerability, he bared his own desires to you.

"If you had asked, I would have fucked you right there on that table," he confessed, his voice low and filled with raw desire. "No hesitation. No remorse. Just us." He paused, his gaze intense as he continued, his words tinged with a hint of  need. "And I would have taken my sweet time, making you forget any other male you've ever been with. I would have tasted every inch of you, every drop of your arousal, until you were begging for release."

He swallowed hard, his eyes burning into yours. "And afterwards," he added, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I would have savored the sight of you, laying there, fucked out and trembling, as I licked my cum from your cunt."  As he voiced his desires, your body responded instinctively, a low moan escaping your lips, anticipation coursing through you. The tension between you grew thick. In the heat of the moment, you couldn't resist expressing your own desires, your words dripping with longing and want. "I want you, Azriel," you murmured, your voice laced with need. "I want you to fuck me until I can't think straight, until I'm begging you to stop."

Without hesitation, your lips crashed into his, a desperate hunger igniting between you. The kiss was fierce, fueled by longing and desire. You surged from the bath, water splashing around you, and pressed your wet, naked body against his chest. He groaned into the kiss, the sound vibrating between your lips. Prying your lips open with his, his tongue ventured forth into your mouth, exploring every inch of you, as if he was trying to commit it to memory. "Shit, you have no idea how much you infuriate me," his voice rumbled deep in his chest. He pulls you from the bath then, hiking you up in his arms, hands on your thighs as you wrap your legs around his middle. "How effortlessly you occupy so much space in my mind."

As he carries you, your bodies pressed tightly together, Azriel's breath comes in ragged gasps, his eyes dark with desire as he gazes into yours. "Gods, the restraint it took to keep myself from you," he confesses, his voice thick with emotion. "Every time I looked at you, on missions, during training... I wanted nothing more than to rip the clothes off your body and fuck you right then and there, for everyone to see."

His admission hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the heat of your desire. You can feel the intensity of his longing radiating from him, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you both.

"And you, my love," he continues, his voice husky with desire, "the strength you possess, the way you could best me in one-on-one combat training... It drove me mad with desire, the urge to ravish you, to claim you as mine."

With each word, his voice grows more fervent, his grip on you tightening as he carries you toward the bed. "I couldn't bear the thought of hurting you," he admits, his tone laced with regret. "So I distanced myself, buried my desires deep within, but now..." He trails off, his eyes locking with yours, a hunger burning within them that mirrors your own.

"Now," he whispers, his voice barely more than a breathy murmur, "I can't hold back any longer. I need you, more than I've ever needed anything in my life." And with that, he lays you gently on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours as he begins to shed his own clothes, his movements urgent and desperate.

As he discards his pants, his cock springs free, slapping against his toned stomach. You gasp at the sight, salivating at the thought of wrapping your lips around the silky skin of his member. Crawling forward on the bed, you meet him at the edge where he still stands, your hunger evident in your gaze as you look up at him.

"I know I'm still influenced by the drug, and I'm incredibly aroused. I can practically feel myself dripping onto the bedsheets right now," you confess. His eyes darken at your admission, wandering over your form kneeling before him, lingering on your dripping core. "But believe me when I tell you that I have fantasized about this moment so many times, Azriel."

Biting your bottom lip slightly, you part your lips shortly after. "I want to pleasure you, to taste your beautiful cock, feel it glide down my throat, and I want you to use my mouth." God, your shameless words cause a faint blush to creep up his cheeks, his dark hair still disheveled from the day's events.

His cock twitches in anticipation as you confess your desires, your words sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine. "I want you, Azriel," you continue, your voice low and sultry, "I need to taste you, to feel you fill my mouth and fuck me."

His own arousal surges to new heights at your shameless admission, his gaze locked on your lips, parted and inviting. "Then take me," he growls, his voice rough with need, "show me how much you want it." And with that, he guides himself to your waiting lips, his cock throbbing with anticipation as he presses against your tongue.

As you lower your mouth towards him, you flatten your tongue, tracing a strong strip up his long shaft, relishing the taste and texture of his skin. Your movements are deliberate, teasing, as you kitten-lick at his throbbing head, savoring every twitch and shudder that runs through his body.

Opening your mouth further, you eagerly suck him into your warmth, feeling him harden even more within your mouth. Your lips form a tight seal around him as you take him deeper, inch by inch, until he hits the back of your throat. You relax your throat muscles, taking him in completely, reveling in the feeling of fullness and the primal sounds of pleasure that escape him.

Your tongue dances around him, swirling and caressing, as you bob your head rhythmically, matching the pace of his rising desire. His hands find their way into your hair, threading through the strands as he guides your movements, urging you on with gentle pressure.

Each suction sends a wave of pleasure coursing through him, and you drink in every drop of his arousal, your own desire building with each passing moment. You're lost in the intoxicating rhythm of give and take, completely consumed by the need to pleasure him, to taste him, to feel him pulsing against your tongue.

As your lips wrap around him, Azriel grits his teeth, his eyes locked on you with a fierce intensity. He watches intently as you graze your teeth over the vein along his shaft, a deliberate tease that elicits a low growl from deep within his chest. He knows you're testing him, pushing him to the edge, and he can feel the tension coiling tighter with each passing second.

"You take me so well," he grunts through clenched teeth, his voice strained with desire. "Sucking my cock like that, driving me insane."

But as you continue to tease him, grazing your teeth and tongue over his sensitive skin, he feels himself reaching his limit. With a warning growl, he tightens his grip on your hair, his voice laced with a hint of desperation. "Keep teasing me like that, and I'll snap. I won't be able to hold back."

Your groan around his cock, a mischievous glint in your eyes, pushes him over the edge. With a growl of frustration, he releases you with a pop, watching as you smile innocently at him before flattening your tongue to lick up his shaft again. "You little minx," he breathes, his tone a mixture of frustration and desire. "You brought this upon yourself."

With that, he loses control, gripping your throat tightly as he uses your mouth for his own pleasure. His hips snap harshly, fucking your throat with an urgency that leaves you gasping for air. He can feel your gag reflex kicking in, but he doesn't relent, pushing you to your limits as he drives himself closer to the edge. "That's it, princess," he speaks through gritted teeth, his voice strained with need. "Take it all. You know you want it."

As he only pulls out when your eyes well with tears, gagging around him again, your jaw slack and drooling all over your chin, a string of saliva connects your mouth still to the tip of his cock as he retreats, chest heaving. He caresses your cheek, his touch gentle yet possessive, before dipping down to grab your chin with his thumb.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper as he gazes down at you. "So hungry for my cock. Bet your cunt is already waiting for me to bury myself inside it."

A whimper escapes your lips at his words, and he smirks down at you, the corners of his lips curling into a wicked grin. "Open your mouth again," he commands, guiding your head to lean back a bit as he slips his cock back into your warm mouth. He moans sinfully as he sheathes his cock into your willing mouth, the sensation sending shivers down his spine.

"Knees apart," he orders, his voice firm yet laced with desire, and you obey without hesitation, shifting to part your legs. You gasp around his length when you feel a cool touch on your thighs, sliding up your body. Your eyes widen in surprise when you realize he is using his shadows on you, and his smirk grows wider.

Your breath hitches as you feel friction between your legs, the shadows brushing against your clit, sliding through your wet heat. "You filthy thing," he chuckles lowly, his voice a dark whisper. "You like that," he states, groaning when your moan sends vibrations through his cock, intensifying the pleasure coursing through him. Your drugged form, heightened senses and all, nearly reaches the peak of ecstasy when one of his hands falls to knead one of your breasts and a shadow brushes over one of your wings softly. With a gasp, you pull back, your body shaking with need.

"Fuck, Azriel," you pant, your voice laced with desperation. "I need you inside of me." A wicked grin spreads across his lips as he looks down at you, his eyes smoldering with desire. "You want me to fill you up, don't you?" he growls, his voice dripping with raw lust. "You want my cock stretching you out, pounding into you until you can't take it anymore."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, desire coursing through you like wildfire. "Yes," you whimper, your voice barely more than a needy whisper. "Please, Azriel, I need you to fuck me hard." He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs, "I'm going to make you scream my name, darling. You're going to beg for more, beg for me to never stop."

He lifts you slightly, guiding you as he turns you around, bending you over until you're on all fours, your wings fluttering with excitement. With a hand placed between your wings on your spine, he presses down, arching your back.

"God, you're gorgeous," he murmurs, admiring the sight before him. Using his knee, he nudges your legs apart, positioning himself behind you. "You're absolutely soaked."

Collecting some of your slick with his cock, he slides through your wet cunt, coating himself in your arousal. Your loud whine fills the air as you feel him grind into you. "Azriel," you moan his name, gasping when a harsh slap lands on your right ass cheek, leaving a handprint behind. Your pussy pulses with desire as you try to rub yourself against his hardness. "Fuck me," you seethe, your voice dripping with need.

He obliges, plunging into you with a force that sends your body reeling forward. You curse loudly as he inches deeper, until he's completely buried in your cunt, hitting your cervix. Azriel twitches at the tightness around him. "Shit, you're so tight," he groans, the intensity of the moment overwhelming both of you.

With a primal need driving him, Azriel begins to move within you, each thrust growing more relentless than the last. His hips collide with yours in a rhythm that's both punishing and intoxicating, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing through the room.

Your body responds eagerly to his every move, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor. Your moans fill the air, a symphony of desire that spurs him on further. Azriel's grip tightens on your hips as he sets a punishing pace, his cock delving deep into your slick heat with each powerful thrust.

The sensation is overwhelming, pleasure coursing through your veins like fire. Your nails dig into the sheets as you surrender to the ecstasy of his touch, your body arching against him in a desperate bid for more. As Azriel's thrusts grow more fervent, he groans, his voice strained with desire. "You feel so good," he pants, his breath hot against your skin. "You take me so well."

You respond with a needy whimper, your fingers clawing at the sheets beneath you. "Harder," you plead, your voice barely more than a breathy whisper. "Please, Azriel, fuck me harder." He grunts in response, his movements becoming more forceful as he drives into you with unrestrained passion. "Like this?" he growls, his voice rough with need as he increases the tempo of his thrusts.

You can only moan in response, the pleasure overwhelming as he takes you to new heights of ecstasy. "Yes," you gasp, your voice trembling with desire. "Just like that." With each powerful thrust, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion, the pleasure building to a crescendo that threatens to consume you. "I'm close," you whimper, your voice filled with urgency. "So close, Azriel."

He grunts in response, his own release drawing near. "Come for me," he urges, his voice low and husky as he drives into you with unbridled passion. "Let go, my love. Let me feel you." With a cry of ecstasy, you shatter beneath him, waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. "Azriel!" you gasp, your voice echoing in the room as you succumb to the overwhelming sensation.

"I'm not done with you," he coos, withdrawing from you with a determined gleam in his eyes. In one fluid motion, he shifts positions, effortlessly lifting you into his arms as if you weigh nothing. "I need to look at you while I make you come again." Your breath catches in your throat as Azriel's commanding voice fills the room, sending shivers down your spine. You cling to him as he effortlessly lifts you, feeling weightless in his embrace, your legs draped over his shoulders.

The sensation of being held by him, of being completely at his mercy, ignites a fire within you as he plunges into you with a primal hunger. With each powerful thrust, you cling to him desperately, your nails digging into his skin as you surrender yourself to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins.

You gasp, your voice echoing in the room as he drives into you with unrelenting force. "Please, Azriel, don't stop." He grunts in response, his movements growing more frenzied as he takes you to the brink of ecstasy once more. "I won't," he growls, his voice thick with lust as he pistons into you with intensity. In the heat of the moment, Azriel's movements become more frenzied, his muscles straining as he drives into you with an unyielding passion. Your body quivers with each powerful thrust, the intensity of his gaze locking you in a mesmerizing trance.

The room swirls with shadows, dancing in a frenetic display of their master's passion. Beads of sweat form on Azriel's forehead, his brows furrowed in concentration as he maintains eye contact with you, his hazel eyes ablaze with desire.

Curses escape his lips as he nears the edge, his rhythm relentless as he repeatedly strikes that sweet spot deep within you. Your head falls back in ecstasy, your entire being consumed by the raw intensity of his thrusts, the sound of his balls slapping against your skin adding to the symphony of pleasure.

With a primal scream, you climax again, your essence gushing around him as you convulse in ecstasy. Wetness cascades down his legs as you drown him in the waves of your release. When you lock eyes with him again, you see the turmoil reflected in his gaze, the desire for release warring with the need to control.

As he begins to slow, ready to withdraw, you refuse to let him pull away. Your voice cuts through the haze of passion, commanding and insistent. "No," you declare, your tone leaving no room for argument. "I want you to fill me. I want every last drop of you."

A mix of desire and determination flashes in Azriel's eyes as he succumbs to your command. With a growl, he thrusts into you one final time, burying himself deep within your core as he spills his essence into you with abandon.

Azriel's breath is ragged against your skin, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his release as he continues to grind into you, riding out the waves of his orgasm. You both pant heavily, lost in the intoxicating embrace of each other's warmth.

In the quiet of the room, the steady ticking of time seems to slow, the rhythm of your hearts gradually synchronizing as you revel in the aftermath of your passionate union. With each passing moment, the remnants of the drug that once clouded your senses dissipate, leaving you both in a state of serene clarity. Suddenly, Rhys's urgent voice breaks through the tranquility, invading Azriel's mind with a sense of urgency. Azriel's grip tightens around your hip instinctively, his focus momentarily pulled away from the blissful moment you share. "Brother, where are you? Is everything fine?" Rhys's concern reverberates in his mental voice, a stark reminder of the dangers that still loom beyond the sanctuary of your embrace.

Azriel's response is curt, his mental voice tinged with irritation as he struggles to maintain his composure amidst the lingering ecstasy. "Yes," he confirms, the word clipped with impatience as he tries to convey his need for privacy.

Relief floods Rhys's voice at the reassurance, but Azriel can sense his brother's lingering worry. "Gods, what happened, I wasn't able to reach you," Rhys presses, his concern palpable even through their mental connection. Azriel's annoyance bubbles to the surface, his desire to savor the aftermath of your passion momentarily overshadowed by the intrusion of reality. With a low growl, he sends a brusque reply, his focus returning to the warmth of your body pressed against his. "I'm kind of busy right now, Rhys," he grumbles, his tone a mixture of irritation and longing as he tunes out the outside world, fully immersed in the intoxicating sensation of being buried deep inside you.

A brief pause follows Azriel's curt response, the tension in the mental connection palpable as Rhys gathers his thoughts. Then, with a hint of playful sarcasm, Rhys's voice echoes in Azriel's mind. "Ah, I see. Busy indeed," Rhys remarks, his tone laden with amusement and a touch of mischief, his words carrying a knowing undertone that hints at his awareness of Azriel's current state of affairs.

Azriel's jaw clenches slightly at the teasing remark, his irritation flickering momentarily before being replaced by a begrudging amusement. He shoots back a mental retort, his tone dry and laced with exasperation. "Do you mind? I'm in the middle of something here," he replies, a hint of playfulness seeping into his mental voice despite his attempt to maintain an air of annoyance.

Rhys's laughter rings in Azriel's mind, a warm and familiar sound that serves as a reminder of the unbreakable bond between them. "Carry on, brother,”

With a soft sigh, Azriel shifts his head, planting tender kisses along the curve of your neck, the warmth of his lips sending shivers down your spine. He hums softly against your skin, his movements deliberate and gentle as he relishes the intimacy of the moment. Pulling back slightly, he meets your gaze, a knowing look reflected in your eyes.

"Rhys?" you inquire, a hint of curiosity lacing your voice. Azriel's expression darkens slightly at the mention of his brother's name, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "Yes, but I'd rather not have my brother's name on your lips while my cock is still buried deep inside your cunt," he replies, his voice low and husky, his gaze intense as he holds your gaze.

You chuckle softly at his response, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes as you playfully tease him. "Fair enough," you concede, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. Azriel's frown deepens momentarily before giving way to a smirk of his own.

He kisses you once more, his lips lingering against yours before he slides out of you, gently setting you back down on your feet. As you stand there together, still caught in the aftermath, you decide to address the elephant in the room. "This doesn't have to be a one-time thing, you know," you say, your voice soft but resolute, seeking clarity in the midst of the intimacy you've shared. Azriel meets your gaze, his expression serious yet filled with a hint of vulnerability.

"I don't want it to be," he responds, his voice a low murmur, his eyes locking with yours as he lays bare his desires and intentions. "Good," you state, a sense of satisfaction in your voice.

"Good," he echoes, a soft smile playing on his lips as he gazes at you.

You move on shaky legs, his hand enveloping yours as you make your way to the bathroom together. "Now, I really want to clean up," you state, casting a playful glance over your shoulder at him. "But there's room for two sets of wings in the tub."

His body responds immediately, his eyes darkening once again as he takes in the sway of your hips while you lead the way to the bathroom, a lingering gaze on your bare ass.

"We're not returning for another day. Something came up," he sends out to Rhys, already on your heels as you chase each other into the bath.

"Sure you do, brother," Rhys's voice comes through, laced with amusement. "Just don't forget she still has to fly back home."

The flight back home indeed turned out to be quite difficult.

[lastflowerofyourhouse]

oh oh hey wait!!

so obviously our hint that something is Up with gideon's physical resilience after the avulsion trial is the revelation that palamedes calculated that it would cause permanent brain damage to the cavalier and gideon is. um. very much not permanently brain damaged.

but it just occurred to me. this post. this post right here.

cytherea didn't accurately convey to them how dangerous the field was. which means she probably didn't mean for harrow to succeed.

and. um.

"Sextus has seen this?"

"I asked him first," said Dulcinea, "And when i told him the method, he said he'd never do it. I thought that was fascinating. I'd love to get to know him better."

...

"So technically," said Harrow, acid as a battery, "We're your third choice."

"Well, Abigail Pent was a very talented spirit magician," said Dulcinea, and relented when she saw Harrow's expression. "I'm sorry! I'm teasing. No, I don't think I would've asked the Eighth House, Reverend Daughter...They could have done this with ease...Maybe that's why."

the sixth, voted most likely to figure out what she's doing, after abigail pent, already deceased. and the ninth, who have nothing whatsoever to do with spirit magic, but who have been establishing themselves as strong competitors and fraternizing with the sixth.

but not the eighth, the ones most likely to successfully complete the trial. because they're the most likely to successfully complete the trial.

yeah, cytherea fully intended to kill them both here, i think. she wanted them to die. come to think of it, that's the only real reason for her to be participating in the labs in the first place considering she's. ya know. already a lyctor.

and.

"Good girl," the voice was saying. "Oh, good girl. She's got it, Gideon! And I've got you...Gideon of the golden eyes. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault... I'm so sorry. Stay with me," the voice said, more urgently. "Stay with me."

that's remorse, i think. that's a genuine moment of humanity peaking through. that's oh god, what have i done.

Gideon was suddenly aware that she was very cold. Something changed. It was getting harder to suck in each breath...Now Gideon was scared. Her body had the soft, drunken feeling you got just before fainting away, and it was very hard to stay conscious. Three seconds before you die, Palamedes had calculated...It felt like all the pressure in her ears was popping loose...When her eyes opened Gideon was distantly worried to discover that she was blind...The air stopped coming. It would have been peaceful, only it sucked..."Ha-ha," said Gideon. "First time you didn't call me Griddle," and died.

no, yeah, i think she did, actually. I am 99% sure that gideon capital-D Died here.

i wonder what cytherea made of her immediately opening her eyes again.

[literary-motif]

Hey! I really really love your writing!!<3

I was wondering if you could write a fluff of Zaros and reader. Where zaros says something extremely hurtful to reader then immediately regrets it and he starts to feel extremely bad. After that he makes it up for them, while he makes it for them reader can obviously tell that zaros has feelings for them and that he’s bad at hiding his true feelings. (I’m sorry if this isn’t clear!! I’m trying to explain my vision but idk how T-T)

Thank you!!<333

I Mean What I Say

Zaros Atha'lin x Reader

Warnings: survivor's guilt

When Zaros saw you in the garden, the corners of his lips perked up. The usual feeling of warmth in his chest at the sight of you was overshadowed by resentment.

The talk with his mother had been rather heavy. She was beyond disappointed, furious even that he fell behind in the trials now that the throne was so close. It had not been his fault, truthfully. 

He had tried his best, but it was an open secret that had him questioning the impartiality of the scholars constructing these trials that you were stronger than him, therefore beating him in physical combat, and more popular, easily securing your favor with the nobles and the people in a vote of confidence. 

Nira had been furious, telling him to do better, reminding him about how important this was both for the good of Serulla and the Atha’lin family. It hurt to know that his best was not good enough, that he was not equipped enough despite his hard work to bridge the gap years of unfair advantage had given you. 

He was desperate, the self-satisfied grin you had given him as the Serulla people cheered for you had burned a hole through his heart. What had you done to deserve their favor? He actually had ideas and plans to make life easier for them yet you had won them over with a few empty promises and forced smiles because you were the Earis and he was nothing more than a post-disgraced leech.

“Come to gloat?” he quipped, stepping up beside you. The seething rage and the feeling of injustice boiling within had turned his voice sharp. 

He knew you enjoyed watching him fail when he had been so confident in the beginning. It was a small mercy you did not outright mock him on that stage, turning him into a laughingstock for the entire kingdom.

You did not look up, instead keeping your eyes fixed on your brother’s grave.

The garden was kept in perfect condition, but not all the riches in the vaults under the castle could halt the passage of time that slowly began chiseling away his name on the stone. It had been years, but his absence still left an aching void in your chest. 

With the trials nearly completed, you could not help but wish for him to take the throne instead. It was his right, after all. No matter the days, weeks, or years you spent perfecting yourself, trying to become someone worthy of your mother’s legacy and the place he should have taken instead, you always fell short. 

You wished you had more of your brother’s kindness, more of his calmness. You wished he was here to teach you the art of subtlety, about talking for hours with someone who did not share your view on things and emerge with a compromise. You wished you had more of his charms, his carefree appearance when you knew he contemplated all his actions carefully. 

You wished he was here to cheer you on and guide you. But most of all, you wished he was here instead of you.

“I am not in the mood, Zaros,” you said bleakly. How long had it been that you were staring at the cold grave? The grass had turned humid, staining your robes and making you shiver as a gust of wind blew through the garden. 

“I wonder what he would have thought of you,” he said, deaf to your quiet melancholy. “Then again, the way I knew him, he would be ashamed of you.”

It was not like him to provoke you this harshly. His teases had always been that, with a few truths and thinly veiled resentments added here and there, but never outright mocking. But with defeat hanging over him and the taste on his tongue of the trials rigged in your favor, even Zaros could not contain himself anymore. 

Everyone had their breaking point.

“What the hell is your problem?” you spat, rising to your feet and spinning around to face him. The heavy quiet of your contemplations was broken by the fury now coursing through you. 

Zaros stared back at you, giving a low chuckle at your clenched fists and furrowed brows. “Losing control again?” he mocked, “How do you think that will look on you when you have a crown on your head? At least he” — he pointed to the grave — “knew how to keep it together and actually cared about the people!”

“And what do you suppose I do about that?” you screamed, digging your nails into your palms to suppress the need to break something. “What do you want from me? Should I go and look for a mage to bring him back? Should I summon an entity and trade my life for his? It’s not my fault he’s dead!”

“Maybe you should,” Zaros said coldly, the iciness in his voice freezing your blood and making you feel hollow. “Serulla would be better off without you, so perhaps you should look for a way to atone for the fact it was him who died and not you.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but whatever venom you wanted to spit died on your tongue as Zaros’ words sunk in. You could only huff as your hands began to shake, the tightness in your throat choking you as tears blurred your vision. 

You turned before he could see them fall, leaving Zaros behind without another word. The steps you took towards the palace were measured as you tried to create the illusion of being unbothered by his cutting words. You only hoped he could not see your body trembling in the dim light. 

Zaros’ gaze did not follow you. He stood frozen, his eyes fixed on the tombstone as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. 

‘Should I summon an entity and trade my life for his?’ 

‘Maybe you should.’’

Had he really said that? He clasped a hand over his mouth, sinking to the ground in shock. Had he just told the person he loved to seek out death? His free hand grasped the grass, trying to ground himself as the world spun. What had he done?

“No— I didn’t mean it,” he muttered wide-eyed, heaving a shaking breath as waves of self-loathing washed over him. How could he have said something so cruel? What kind of person was he to let desperation and resentment guide him to say something like that?

How could he fix it? What could he possibly say to get back from that?

“I didn’t mean it,” he gasped, choking on his breath. “No, please. I didn’t mean it. Earis!” He looked up, but the garden was deserted. Of course you had gone, but where to?

‘Serulla would be better off without you.’

He needed to apologize, needed to make this right. 

Zaros got up shakily. He felt sick. What if this was it? What if he had ruined all the progress you two had made in getting closer again during the trials because he had snapped today?

“Damn the trials,” he whispered, bracing himself against the stone wall as the world kept spinning around him. Your chambers were just a few doors away. “Damn the throne. I don’t want it if it means losing you.”

He reached your door, knocking on it hurriedly. 

No answer.

“Earis?” he called. His voice sounded strange to his own ears, muffled and choked as if it came from far away. “Earis?” he tried again, louder this time.

“The Earis has gone out,” a servant said, poking their head around the corner, “the library is my best guess— Are you alright, Sarl Zaros?”

He nodded in thanks, waving a shaking hand in dismissal of the worried look. “Fine,” he answered curtly, stumbling towards the library before they could say another word. 

‘You should look for a way to atone for the fact that it was him who died and not you.’

“Earis?” he called shakily, letting the door of the library fall shut behind him. Silence was his answer. 

He leaned back, resting his head against the sturdy wood and wiping the tears from his face. He sighed, taking a deep breath and calming his racing heartbeat. If you weren’t here, he needed to—

His thoughts were interrupted by a sniffle echoing through the silence of the empty library.

“Earis,” he said softly, turning the corner to find you curled against one of the large windows. The light of the setting sun was illuminating your face in a gentle orange glow. The speck of dust in the air seemed to shine in the light, creating the illusion of warmth, when in reality the scene before him was heartbreaking. 

You did not look up at his approaching footsteps, turning your head away from him instead. “Come to gloat?” you rasped, continuing to look out.

Zaros flinched as you threw his words back at him. “No, I—” he sighed, sitting next to you on the windowsill. “I’m—”

“Save it,” you said tiredly, drawing your arms closer around you. “I don’t care. You’re right anyway. He would have been a better Regent. He would have been a better heir and it’s unfair that he can’t be.”

“It is,” he said, slowly reaching out his hand to take yours, “but his qualities don’t take away from yours. You can be a good ruler just as well. I’m sorry for what I said. I know it doesn’t change anything, but I hope you can forgive me with time. I— I was frustrated and angry. That’s no excuse for—”

“Thank you,” you mumbled, allowing Zaros’ hesitant touch against your hand.

“I could withdraw from contesting for the throne.”

“What?”

Your surprised exclamation made a small smile appear on Zaros’ face. You looked at him wide-eyed. After all the trials and all the challenges you mastered together, why would he drop out so close to the finish line?

“Consider it my gift of apology,” he said, squeezing your hand. His expression grew serious again. “In truth, we both know you’ve won. There is only one trial left and I doubt I can catch up with how far you’re leading. Additionally” — he hesitated — “I’m tired of playing my mother’s games. Whatever revenge scheme she has is slowly burying me with its weight and I— I don’t want to be the person you saw today.”

You were speechless. It sounded like a joke, but the sincerity you saw in his expression convinced you that it was true. “You’d do that for me?” you asked, searching his gaze. “You’d walk away from ruling Serulla simply to say you’re sorry?”

“I’d do anything to show you that I’m anguished at what I said to you and I am sorry. I don’t want to be someone you— someone you hate. Not anymore, not when we rekindled—”

Your hand on his cheek silenced Zaros immediately. He leaned into the touch with a soft gasp, brushing his lips against your palm. You tilted his head, leaning forward to kiss him. 

Zaros melted against you, his arms wrapping around your back and pulling you into him. All the tension between you seemed to melt away as he held you in his arms, your hands gently threading through his hair and making him sigh. 

“I’m so glad you’re alive,” he said as you broke apart, resting his head on your shoulder and squeezing you tighter. “I’m so sorry, believe me. I lo— I—”

You hummed, slowly nodding. “I know,” you whispered, tracing circles on his back. “I’m glad you’re alive, too.”

The sky was clear, giving you and Zaros an unobtrusive view of the constellations above. You were lying in the garden, the humid grass staining your clothes, but neither of you minded. The moment was far too precious. 

“Zaros?” you asked, raising his hand to your lips when he gave you a short grunt in response. “You’re one for revolutionary ideas, aren’t you?”

He chuckled, raising his head from your shoulder to look at you. “You know I am, my Earis.”

“Here’s a thought for you then: What happens if we talk to the Queen come morning, telling her to call off the noble trials, and we instead rule together?”

Zaros was silent for a moment. “Together as what?” he asked quietly.

“Partners for now, and if perhaps it develops into something more, then we shall pursue that as well.”

“Revolutionary indeed, my Earis. Count me in.”

[markantonys]

AITA for joining a "cult" that thinks my sister and mom are Darkfriends?

First, some backstory. I (30m) have always been an outsider in my family. It wasn't anything to do with my parents - dad (dead) always spent all his time with me instead of my younger siblings, and (step)mom (43f) always gave me extra attention compared to her bio kids because she didn't want me to feel neglected - or with my brother (21m), who's always looked up to me. It was all because of my sister (19f). She's hated and bullied me ever since she was a toddler, and I have no idea why. I guess maybe she doesn't think I'm her real brother, or blames me for telling on her whenever she did irresponsible things like climb trees and talk to strangers. All I've ever done is try to keep her safe, but she's never appreciated it.

Anyway, there's this organization (my sister claims it's a cult, though I don't think that's fair) that's dedicated to serving the Light. My mom always hated them and kept them banned from our country because she thinks they have an agenda against women who can channel, and she's one herself, as is my sister. I used to believe her, but after reading one book written by the organization's founder, I realized that my mom has a totally biased view of them and they're actually doing really important work founded on admirable principles. So when my sister went missing at the hands of women who can channel, I decided I'd had enough of those women lying to everyone all the time and I joined this organization.

I did have my view of them shaken when I found out my mom had been kidnapped, abused, and murdered by one of their leaders (turns out she's actually still alive though, don't worry about that), but I challenged that leader to an honorable duel and killed him to avenge my mom, and my friends and I rooted out a handful of other corrupt members of the organization, so now with that small minority gone, the rest of us can continue doing the Light's work and spreading awareness of the evils of the One Power.

To be clear, I OBVIOUSLY don't think my sister and mom are Darkfriends; it's only everyone else who uses the One Power who is. I've explained this to my sister multiple times but it only makes her angrier instead of grateful that I'm making an exception for her and choosing to believe the best of her. It feels like I can never do anything right in her eyes, but maybe I've somehow got the wrong understanding of the situation. So, AITA?

******

u/dainbornhald: NTA. Your sister's problem isn't actually that you joined this organization (which totally does sound 100% Light-serving). She doesn't think you're her real brother and is just looking for any excuse to continue the bullying, manipulation, and gaslighting she's been using on you since she was a toddler. [+5k votes] u/childbyar: Came here to say this. Sister sounds like a textbook abuser, and, honestly, almost definitely a Darkfriend. I'd go no contact with her, OP, and maybe get a restraining order if you have to - she's obviously unhinged. [+1.2k votes]

u/amyrlinseat: You joined a cult that thinks your sister is a Darkfriend based on an innate characteristic about her that she didn't choose and can't change (unlike you, who DID choose to join this cult), and you're whining that she's mad at you for it??? YTA [-749 votes]

u/luckyfox: YTA for the cult thing, but this whole family's got serious mommy AND daddy issues (take it from an expert). Sister resents you for getting all your parents' attention growing up, and you have a victim complex about being a stepchild/half-brother. I can only wonder what might be going on with the middle brother who wasn't mentioned much here. You guys need to go to therapy. [+2 votes] u/galaddamodred [OP]: My brother always seemed very well-adjusted, but a few hours after I made this post he actually died going on a suicide charge in battle because he thought he was unimportant enough to risk and no one would care much if he died in the attempt. Which sucks because now the only sibling I've got left is my sister who hates me. [+273 votes] u/luckyfox: oh my god [+312 votes]

[tpher]

scary girl analysis !

something something the most clearly gimmicky gen 4 character we know. as your resident pahkitew island apologist, i dont care. it actually took me a bit to warm up to her and i figured id talk abt why that is

so her main thing is being creepy and sadistic for the sake of jokes. its not serious.. mostly. she does prove to actually be down to hurt others (such as when she got a hold of a jackhammer). but what about an instance where she wanted to hurt someone for actual reasons? when was that?

that was when priya went up to her to compliment her on doing a good job on the previous challenge. priya says that shes surprised by scary girl having done a good job.

scary girls response?

a very defensive "oh, it surprised you that i was good? cuz you thought id do bad?"

and thats the thesis of this post

scary girl is very insecure

backing up for a moment, in ep 2 when the teams were on ships and attacking each other, she was the one who came up with the idea of sinking the other teams ship as an idea on what to do when they were out of ammo (? iirc). but no one else heard that, just zee

then in ep 3, ripper makes her go last in the relay race thing bc he didnt want her to "blow things" for the team. she reacts by trying to bite his finger. not with a funny creepy smile, but with genuine anger to her literal bite. and then during that challenge, she infamously grabs a bear by the arm and starts beating it up while saying "thats what you get for growling at me!!!". once shes done, she goes "byeee" and goes on like nothing happened. proving that if someone wrongs her, she can easily let it go.. so long as she gets to do something back. remember this for later

and here we come back to her interaction with priya. so far, scary girl has proven herself to be a pretty alright player and she herself knows that. so the notion of someone being SURPRISED she did well?? does not sit well with her at all. but the way that she harps on the wording, even before zee steps in to make it worse, is what gets to me. it just really adds an extra layer to her character that, well. ironically surprised me! for someone who always seems to be in her own world, so unconventional, so ill-fitting with everyone else to also be insecure in some capacity?

anyway she tries to hurt priya with a spoon but gets interrupted. later on, priya is still thinking abt their encounter and feels bad so she tries to make it up to scary girl by flattering her. namely by saying that scary girls question was smart.. and priya being her awkward self, only dug herself in a hole by making it seem like that was a smart question by scary girls standards

scary girl is speechless. baffled. mad beyond words

it should be noted that scary girl looked offended when priya even started speaking. meaning that she also did not forget about their conversation that morning. she REALLY took it to heart. applying the bear logic here, had scary girl hurt her with the spoon earlier, would she be less mad? would she had considered each other even? and in that case, would this comment go over better or would it had simply restarted her need for revenge?

well. they dont interact for the rest of the episode up until the very end. after ripper used priya as a human shield, obviously injuring her

scary girl tells her that rippers a jerk and that priya didnt deserve that. so she'll be voting to get ripper out. and calls priya her "friend".

(her face and tone makes me a bit suspicious if this was genuine. but thats probably just her being her offputting self so i'll ignore it.) ok so by scary girl logic, priya deserved to have SOMETHING bad coming her way after what she said to her.

but not this.

scary girl, who came here to "make friends and watch them get really hurt", was not okay with what ripper did to priya. perhaps she thinks that only she could be allowed to hurt priya to balance things out? personally giving priya her karma, perhaps?

but now she considers priya a "friend". who likely wants to see her get hurt. but in the fun way that scary girl likely sees most other contestants as, possibly? idk.

anyway after all of that, we can see just how insecure scary girl can get over unintentionally awkward phrasing. just how deeply it hurts her feelings to be underestimated like that

season 2 spoilers ahead !!!

in season 2, we see even less of her. but there is SO much to work with

normal girl is so fascinating to me

by the time s2 starts, scary girl already has an all new look. shes trying to be "normal"

she admits in her confessional that some ppl thought she was too scary in the first season so thats why she changed her appearance and her everything. who were these ppl?

other than a dog as a joke, online forums, showing an interesting glimpse into the in-universe ""real world"" stepping into total drama. perhaps also a meta joke on the fandoms response to her but who knows. imagine unabashedly being yourself on tv and everyone is telling you to change. you are 16 and likely going through a weird phase. feeling a lot of heightened emotions already and ""knowing"" that this is who you are (at the moment). and if its not a phase? still 16 on international television getting lambasted by millions

and last but not least, her MOM??? her own mother. that just raises more questions abt how scary girl was before getting on td. was she NOT like this before? was she playing it up for the cameras? or did she just go unhinged without parental supervision? in any case the fact is that even her own mom wasnt okay with what makes her happy and how she presented herself.

so scary girls solution? to try her best to suppress anything that made her unique. to try to adhere to "societal norms", in her own words.

we dont see much of her in this ep other than her commenting on how shes normal and totally did not want to see someone get hurt. shes clearly struggling so bad. she knows that apparently what she likes isnt "right", therefore the opposite must be true, right?

she is simultaneously so immediately different that the others didnt even recognize her at first. yet still so "scary" that she cant fit in. she just doesnt know how no matter how hard she tries. if she were to stay longer, what can she do? this game is not only abt your skills in the challenges its also a social thing. how long until she snapped and went back to her old ways?

and then we get to the campfire ceremony. chef is about to call out whatever it was the she did wrong that day, but she interrupts him with a simple "no."

she cannot fathom being sent home, at least not this early. bc shes normal! she is sooo normal and she tried SO HARD to be normal! she read normal books and normal movies and studied normal people. she even taught herself to smile in a more acceptable way, which is so autistic coded to me. so she deserves to stay longer.

(getting flashbacks to my topher psychoanalysis and his entitlement being both a tragedy and his self-imposed downfall)

..but she studied "normal people" in her own not-normal way. while they werent looking. while they were sleeping. while they had no idea she was there.

so she got booted out for that. and she cannot believe it.

when she says that she "didnt even try to hurt anyone this time", she is mad. that was her ""fun"" and she managed to control it 100% only to get eliminated??? shes fed up!

but when she talks about how she taught herself how to smile in a "less-creepy" way?

she softens up and looks genuinely hurt.

she tried so hard. she saw all those horrible comments from people judging her based on like 5 episodes on a reality show. her own mother didnt accept her. her insecurity won and she aimed to change and repress everything that made her unique

and it still wasnt enough

[fvretts]

Very different from my typical posts, but just wanted to compile a few reasons on why I think Trump unfortunately won the American election, as an American student! I posted the same thing on a burner account on twitter (trying not to get doxxed lmao). I'd love to discuss more about this if anyone is interested! 1. Misogyny and gender gap Unfortunately, there are these internal biases that a lot of men and women don't know that they have. People aren't used to seeing a women in power, ergo, they're not going to vote for one. Harris focused way too much on abortion as her main policy, which also only isolated young male voters. Regarding the gender gap, and also the shift right we're seeing within younger generations, I think during COVID and lockdown, there were a bunch of movements like BLM and LGBTQ+ awareness, and just overall things that helped marginalized groups gain a stronger voice and raise awareness to issues. However, time and time again, there was a common issue with all these communities and straight white men. These men were not used to having to take accountability for either their actions or actions that the society had done for them but against other communities, so instead they fueled that discomfort into hate and raised the platforms of horrible people like Andrew Tate. BTW I'm not at all saying that this is ALL straight white men, or it's only white men or it's only straight men. The common factor is being a man. Typically, in my experience, when it's regarding race or gender or sexuality, the men, typically, are either straight, white, or both.

2. Democrats really didn't differentiate themselves. Harris aligned herself more moderate when she should have aligned herself more left. The "undecided" and center votes were going to go to Trump, so she should have taken a more leftist stance, especially on issues like the genocide in Gaza. Most Americans, no matter their stance, are against the the "conflict" (genocide). Had Harris been more concrete about a ceasefire on Gaza and not giving aid to Israel, she would have gained a lot of leftist voters and perhaps convinced others to vote for her. My third, and arguably most influential reason to why we lost. 3. People associate life being better 2016-2020 related to Trump. I'm especially talking about the economy here. To the average American, the economy is the most important thing. Lower income POC voters aren't going to care that Trump is racist towards them, they care about how much it costs to live, and the economy dictates everything from employment and life of living. Trump, very fortunately, had inherited Obama's economy. Hence, unemployment rates were down and cost of living was affordable. In comparison, in 2020, we had a global pandemic, which completely shut down the economy. This is obviously not Biden and Harris' fault--we've actually recovered quite well from the lockdown, but we did have inflation and unemployment rates go up a lot due to this. Lots of people correlate inflation and unemployment rates TO Biden and Harris, rather than the extenuating circumstances there were. As they say in statistics, correlation is NOT causation, but it may appear that way, enough so, that it swings a lot of people's votes. And people are just not educated with what tariffs are.

[lakesbian]

rachel and alec are specifically interesting to me re the undersider Situations as of early worm posting. thats right for the first time in my life im saying rachel specifically is interesting to me. everyone on the team is at least a bit lonely i think but it's so loud and obvious with rachel, because she's loud and obvious about everything. she's a disabled teen who's been homeless since she was very young. she was deeply abused by the foster home system, and the legal system responded to her wounded and confused outbursts as an autistic child by criminalizing her and hunting her down. she can't exist in public without the cops being called. society has done everything to demonstrate that it doesn't want her, and then blames her when she doesn't trust people.

brian says that the undersiders are the closest thing she can have to friends. alec says that they're the closest thing she has to a family. (which is an entire can of worms in itself wrt alec's relation to the undersiders.) and both of those things are true, but there's also something so tragic in their assumption that their tenuous connection w/ rachel where she can only just barely tolerate them is the best she can ever have. they're the only people she can even remotely trust to have her back or treat her somewhat fairly instead of fucking her over, but they're still fundamentally considering her beyond close connection, less of a friend or someone to attempt befriending and more of someone to keep on a leash. of course taylor is the only one to actually get close to her--taylor is the only one who tries to engage with her, as a person, on rachel's own terms, instead of begrudgingly tolerating her. rachel :(

& alec is the other team member who's in the Extra Lonely Isolation Club...he gets silly with the team sometimes, he has his little teenage banter w/ brian, he and lisa are clearly very familiar with each other in the way ppl who've been living together for a year and a half are. it's really good for him. it's the first time in his entire life he's gotten to have a consistent home with his own belongings, and he's getting to have it because he's part of the undersiders. the undersiders are literally the first people in his entire life that approach counting as a friendship. he gets SO FUCKING MAD!!! when he leaps to assuming that rachel stole the money from them. he gets So Mad he immediately goes "i vote we kill her" and then goes on a seething rant about how he wouldn't have thought she'd do that since the undersiders are the closest she has to family, but apparently she would. and the projection is so obvious! he's not wrong about applying the sentiment to rachel, but there's a reason he goes farther than brian's "closest she has to friends" and into the more intimate territory of "closest she has to family"--the two-way street there means that the undersiders are the closest he has to family, and the idea of being betrayed by one of them hurts enough to trigger the aggression he always displays when he's feeling vulnerable.

and he still doesn't tell them Jack Shit. he obviously lies to them all the fucking time, because brian is under the impression that he "dropped out" of school, when the reality is that he never went. even lisa brings up heartbreaker to taylor without any awareness that he's the father of the boy she's been living with for over a year. alec spends most of the early arcs in worm in dissociative, depressed fugues. the other undersiders have lengthy conversations where they're sharing personal info and he's just trailing along behind them, not speaking for so long that even the readers can forget he's there. lonely broken little shell of a boy who is so empty all of the time and does not even know it. aisha cannot get here fast enough if i have to see him being depressed and disconnected for one (1) more chapter i will explode

[yzafre]

who wore it better – 2003 v 2012 episode comparisons

I said I wanted to do this in my 2003 thoughts post, and I’m gonna. I've been picking away at this for a couple weeks now.

I’m focusing on places where they actually recycled a storyline rather than adapted general concepts.  Fugitoid and the space arc is an example of the second method – Robot Scientist with a connection to a Dangerous Machine is a shared concept, but the stories are different.

“Ohhh how did we end up here we’ve GOT to figure out how to get home, our Dad might still be in danger” versus “we HAVE to collect the McGuffins before the enemy or earth is going to EXPLODE. AGAIN.” You know?

Comparing those types of adaptations could be done, but it’s not what I’m interested in here.  I specifically want to look at the places that made me think “oh, 2012 just copied this” while I was watching 2003.

Now, obviously this is extremely subjective.  So take this as me defending my nominations for winner in these categories, rather than some sort of objective truth.  I am presenting my dinky power-point on why you should vote for my favorites.  Ect.  Your preferences may be different!

My ramblings on the episodes got long (should I have split this into parts? maybe! didn't though), so uhhhh...

tl;dr: Scoring got weird at 3.5 to 2003, 3 to 2012, and two draws.

Key takeaways: 2003 better matches my personal tastes, and what makes 2012 good is the stuff specific to its iteration, rather than copying 2003

With all that taken care of, here’s my opinions, in very messy order.

Meet Casey Jones vs The Good, The Bad and the Casey Jones

So, this was the very first episode that made me sit back and go: wait.  This is just.  The same thing? 

Raph loses a fight, loses his temper violently over it.  He then goes out to get some air and runs into Casey, getting into a fight.  Raph goes back and apologizes to his brother, and then they have to deal with the Casey situation.  Eventually they’re friends.

That being said, they do handle things a bit differently inside of those plot points, in a way that makes me very split on which one is better.

So, this episode is doing two things: introducing Casey (at least to the turtles, in 2012’s case), and spotlighting Raph’s anger issues, and the shows handle both of them differently.  So let's look at them:

Raph and his anger

I want to start with the positioning of the episode within the wider series.

This is the 4th episode of 2003.  At this point, they’re still setting up the characters and your understanding of them – so this is really here to say hey, our Raph has a temper, that’s going to be a thing going forward. (I'm watching '87 right now, and while I've heard Raph gets more of his anger late in the series, at the beginning he is... not that. So signaling this for people who might have watched the previous show is valid.)

After this, I don’t remember there being other episodes that are Explicitly About Raph’s anger issues?  That’s not to say there aren’t any – there very well could’ve been some that were just so boring I don’t remember them, which would be a whole other issue – but what I remember of him being, to quote the show, a “hot-head” is integrated into other stories.

For 2012, this is nearly halfway through season 2, and is one of 3 episodes I can think of off the top of my head that at least start out framed as a lesson on Raph’s anger issues.  (The one with the guy that turns into a spider mutant, this one, and…. Okay so I don’t remember the details but I’m Pretty Sure I remember there being another one post-space arc).

Now, in theory this is good – having a sort of long-term journey recurring throughout the series.  In practice… eh. 

This is very subjective, but from the way the topic was constantly put on the shelf until they wanted to use it for an episode, to the way it was all extremely surface level and used mostly for jokes, it didn’t do much for me.

That aside, let’s look at the content of the episode itself:

Raph's anger issues have two different tones here.

2003 Raph’s snapping at Mikey is framed a lot more seriously – and a lot more dangerously – than 2012 Raph going at Leo.  And, accordingly, ‘03 Raph is a lot more horrified at his actions, whereas ‘12 Raph is more petulant, unwilling to fully own up to his mistake.

That carries over to when they’re “getting some air” - ‘03 Raph is blatantly angry with himself, where ‘12 is complaining about his brother’s not getting it.  I do think some of that frustration with himself is buried underneath, but it's interesting to note the difference between how aware of it they are. (Of course, ‘12 also didn’t try to brain his brother over the head with a metal pipe.  So.)

The two different versions also shifted what they chose to have “spelled out” versus implied.  What I mean is.... okay, so ‘03 had Raph explicitly say “What is wrong with me” – that frustration with himself I mentioned earlier – where it’s kind of buried underneath for ‘12.

On the other hand, ‘12 Raph flat out says he wasn’t angry, just “determined to win,” when explaining himself to Splinter, whereas with ‘03 the reasoning comes from Raph’s “You think you’re better than me?” line during the fight (and a bit of Mikey’s taunting, the menace), allowing you to (very easily, let's be real, I don't know that you can really count this as subtext) connect the dots on how it escalated.

So, that leads to their fight with Casey – where they both get carried away, before coming to their senses and questioning what they’re doing (and subsequently getting surprise-attacked).  The difference here is that ‘03, upon calming down, went back to trying to talk some sense into Casey (using the lessons he’s obviously trying to absorb himself), while to me ‘12 Raph just kinda seemed disoriented by it all?

Which. Fair.

Next step: the apology.  VERY different receptions.  The ‘03 brothers greet Raph with worry and care, and take his apology quietly and warmly, whereas for ‘12 they act like this is another Tuesday, a bit dismissive, and tease and taunt him through his apology.  I’m not trying to disparage the ‘12 turtles here – not exactly – more so observing the difference in tone once more.

When people say the ‘03 turtles feel older, I think this is a huge part of it – the ‘12 turtles’ behavior feels very “stupid teenager”.  And I mean that in a genuine, fairly affectionate way.  I remember being that age, I was dumb.  You don’t know how to handle all these strong feelings, you have no impulse control. Also around 2012 I remember being genuine being deeply uncool, so. But ‘03 are demonstrating a higher level of emotional maturity, compared to that, and it does make them feel older.

Anyways, after that you get the reunion with Casey, having very different tones.  ‘03 purposefully tries to reach out and rehabilitate help Casey get himself under control, whereas ‘12 diverges into a surprise attack by the Foot where Raph and Casey bicker their way into teamwork.

Overall, ‘03 takes a more... introspective? Approach to Raph’s anger, where ‘12 flickers between being slightly emotional and using the situation for humor or cool action scenes – it feels like setup for an arc that I never felt we got satisfying payoff for.

For my tastes, I think I prefer ‘03 for the Raph part of the episode, if only because it remains thematically cohesive till the end.  From start to finish, Raph is trying to impart the lesson he wants to learn to Casey.  With 12, it feels like the “Raph’s anger issues” thread got a bit lost/abandoned in building up the Raph-Casey dynamic.

Speaking of...

Casey Jones

I think ‘12 is the better Casey intro episode.  There, I said it.

I know, I know!  It’s not technically where we meet Casey, we already saw him interacting with April (also scenes I like), but... although having finished 2003 I think ‘03 has the better overall Casey (mostly because they give him like. Actual personal connections to the world), ‘12 has the better initial burst of character, in my opinion.

His little intro monologue is so stupid, and I love it.  The skates and the little taser-gloves he obviously put together himself (and the fact that we only got one episode of Donnie and Casey bonding over this kind of engineering is criminal???).

The initiative to follow Raph down, his reactions to Splinter, the entire subway tunnel chase scene, where his and Raph’s rapport is building up... it’s good stuff!  I like it!  Maybe there’s a bit less depth in some places – we don’t get the personal connection with the Purple Dragons, how it ties back to his family – but his character voice, his initiative and impulsivity, and his creativity all come through.

It’s such a shame they didn’t do more to add to his character throughout the series in ‘12, because he had a fantastic early showing.  But then, that series didn’t seem interested in doing that for any of their characters, to me.  Sigh.

But... just looking at the episode itself, I'd give the Casey have to 2012.

So... draw?  Great way to start off, I know.

Shredder Strikes Back vs The Invasion (or: Leo gets thrown through a window)

So, this is a tough competition, we’re gonna have to take this point by point, I mean -

2012.  It’s 2012.  Are you kidding me.

Okay, look.  2012 already has an advantage just on moving this from halfway through season 1 to the season 2 finale, but, I mean... come on.

With 2003, there was barely any build up with the Shredder.  We’d seen him sort of being in charge of the various villains since early on – but the turtles didn’t see that!  For them, he showed up, tricked Leo, Splinter gave some back story, they fought and then Splinter seemingly killed him.  It just... wasn’t that dramatic? To me??

So when you have Leo thrown through the window, whispering “he’s back”, I was just like... I see no reason for this level of dread.  It doesn’t feel that personal, or important, or.... anything, really.  I know 2003 came first, but having watched 2012 beforehand this was kind of a letdown.  Didn’t feel earned.

Now, 2012 on the other hand....

Shredder has been a constant, ever-increasing threat since the moment he showed up in Season 1.  It was already personal with Splinter, yes, but then he also became a subject of looming dread for the turtles themselves.  And it doesn’t come out of nowhere. 

Like, yes, we, the viewers, were aware 2003 Shredder survived, but otherwise he was just hanging out off-screen, doing who knows what.  He wasn’t on the mind.  2012, on the other hand, showed the way Shredder was slowly amassing power, planning for something.

And then you add the Kraang on top of it.

Like, seriously, making this a two-prong threat is. Mwah!  The boys are falling apart, stressed by the time-limit of the upcoming Kraang invasion, disagreeing on how to handle it.  And then the argument gets cut short by their home being discovered – they don’t even get a chance to choose their path together, because they have to run, and everything’s chaos, and they’re still focused on the Kraang.

And that’s when the Shredder comes in.

This is insult on top of injury with everything going wrong that possibly could.  This is an immaculate payoff to the set-up they’ve been doing all season. This is fantastic.

And when Leo is thrown through the window, you feel it – the dread, the horror, the regret.  It really feels like the breaking point of “we can’t take any more” that leads to them retreating.  It has a weight to it that 2003’s version was sorely missing.

When it comes to Leo getting thrown through a window, 2012 takes the win, hands down.  The stakes, the drama, and my investment are all so much higher than they were in ‘03, no contest, it’s my favorite part of ‘12.

What comes after, on the other hand....

Tales of Leo + The Monster Hunter vs Season 3a (or, the Farmhouse Arc)

Maybe it’s unfair to compare 2 episodes to 8 episodes.  And maybe this is diverging from my “only episodes that are directly connected” rule I stated in the beginning, but I need to get this off my chest.  Because I just.  I’m not impressed by 2012’s farmhouse arc. 

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Warning: rant ahead, this is VERY subjective and heavily based in my personal tastes.  Reminder that I do genuinely enjoy 2012, I just think the farmhouse arc is the lowest point in the whole series and is representative of what I find to be the weakest aspect of the series’ writing across the board.  That being said.

I see what 2012 was trying to do, by drawing out Leo’s recovery over all those episodes, giving the characters some space to breathe.  But they didn’t do it well in my opinion, and honestly the whole thing.  Flounders. 

2012’s best feature is its plot writing, how one episode tumbles into the next, Rube Goldberg machine-style, across an entire season.  But at the farmhouse, they’re removed from the greater plot, and that’s not doing the writing any favors.

And it’s not that the episode ideas are bad – I generally think they’re pretty interesting!  It’s just that without the inter-connected plot, they need something else to push them from “okay” to “exceptional”.  Usually, this would be where deeper characterization and relationship building would kick in instead, but uh.  I don’t personally think 2012 is great at that.

They under-cut the message of the episode with Big Foot, the Casey and Donnie friendship doesn’t really go anywhere after this, every other episode where inter-personal issues are only dealt with on a very surface level become even more obvious and a bit annoying without the greater plot to distract from it. Yes I know this is a kids show, but A:tlA had already finished airing at this point, also on Nickelodeon.

I think there’s a consistent issue with character writing in 2012 where they do what looks like set-up with no intent to ever give a meaningful pay-off or significantly change the status-quo, and that’s very much on display here.

And it’s not that there was nothing good in the season – I liked what they were doing with Raph, and how he was trying to help/encourage Leo, while somewhat bungling it in very realistic ways.  It was a fascinating look at what this Raph acting at his best as the Lancer trope could be, and I genuinely wish they leaned into it more later down the line.

Also, I’m always thrilled to see the Leo-April friendship get some focus, so Eyes of the Chimera was a favorite.  But across the board... the season didn’t wow me, and the longer it went on, the more I could see the cracks.

It all tops off with Vision Quest, which was my biggest disappointment in the entire series, the point at which I had to really stop and reset my expectations on what kind of story the writers were interested in telling.  The summary describes them having to go on a spiritual journey to really face themselves and their weaknesses, and I was so excited!  But then it was just.  Really surface level.  And occasionally confusing.

Raph needs to work on his temper, sure – but how is this any different than any of the other episodes about it?  Do we look at all at where his anger comes from?  A deeper way to handle it?  No, of course not.

Mikey needs to focus, stop getting distracted – I mean, yeah sure I guess.  Not a particularly interesting way of handling it, though.  Also, even if he manages it here, I know it's not going to pan out to the rest of the show, they’re not giving up their easy source of humor for the younger demographic.

And Donnie needs to... stand his ground? What?  I was so caught off guard.  It’s not that it’s completely out of touch, we see him coming up with complex paths to his goals, trying to think his way around of problems, ect, but... it was never really highlighted or presented as a real problem other than maybe the episode on instinct over thinking too hard?  It just felt really disconnected from anything else they were doing with him.  A genuinely interesting pay-off scene, with no solid set-up.

And Leo.  Oh jeez.  My friends.  WHAT is up with how they handled Leo’s knee injury?  The pain is just in my mind? It's not real??  Really???  No, thank you.

Like... I think this was supposed to be a riff on what Splinter says about ‘03 Leo’s coma, and him being trapped in his head due to fear – but because in ‘12 they tied it to an actual, specific physical injury, the execution falls apart. 

(Especially when they use the same flash-effect they used on Leo having issues with his knee of Splinter having issues later in the series but I probably shouldn't take that into account here.)

I mean, his quest is the closest to being satisfying, because they had lain interesting groundwork with his struggle with recovery and his insecurities in previous episodes, but then they just completely bungle it at the end! Argh!

I was so excited for Vision Quest, but this didn't tell me anything new about the characters or progress the characters in any meaningful way! It had no effect on how the characters are written going forward. So – other than some admittedly very cool fight choreography – what was the point?  Was there one??  It felt like putting on the trappings of an emotionally deep story without any of the actual, you know.  Depth.

I am clawing at the walls. Look at all the potential you wasted.

And yes, I’m aware this is all very subjective, and again part of a show for kids, but that’s how it hit me.

The 2003 farmhouse arc, on the other hand, was very short, and I think it benefited from that.  It had two episodes, and it knew what it was doing with both of them.  They felt purposeful, in the larger arc of the story.

First episode: they make their way to the farmhouse, Leo’s in a coma (according to Splinter, one driven by his fear), and his family tells stories of when he was brave/strong as a little kid to try and bring him out.

Wonderful, amazing, I love this episode.  So much character work – both in the past and present!  By going back to when they were kids, it helps us contextualize the turtles’ relationships by making them simpler.

In showing early memories that probably started cementing their views of each other, we see the core around which they developed.  By seeing which memory each brother chooses to present, we get some insight into how they each see Leo.  It gives us a point A to our current point B, which allows us to extrapolate the line between the two, how they developed.

And then you also get the little moments of how the brothers are handling this catastrophic event, how they react to the stress, to seeing their brother so hurt – Raph especially!  It’s pure character work and I love it.

After that, we get one episode of shenanigans, which is both representative of that “space to breathe” after Leo woke up, and also gives space for the B-plot (which is the truly arc-important plot) of Leo, now awake, dealing with his own handling of this stressful situation.

Is the A-plot of this episode quite as good as some of the ideas for the 2012 episodes?  Honestly, no, but just the fact that it’s carrying the Leo recovery story pushes it ahead.  We see Leo struggling with his failure, Raph stepping up to herd him back on the right track – the idea of physically remaking his swords to remake himself!  And, though we don’t know it yet, how hard Leo takes this is great foreshadowing to how he reacts going into his season 4 breakdown.

And then, having done the character work they wanted to accomplish, the writers go back to the main story.  The characterization here matters (and also is good) in a way that whatever is going on in the 2012 farmhouse arc just.  Isn’t. 

In my opinion.

Okay, rant over, winner is obvious, moving on.

Triceratons

Again, we’re not comparing most of the space arcs, as that’s apples to oranges, but there are two episodes that caught my attention:

Rogue in the House vs Dinosaur Seen in Sewers!

Here we've got two episodes where the turtles find a Very Confused Triceraton and trick him into helping them.

I like the 2003 one better.

Honestly, it comes down to the context of the episode.  Rogue in the House comes after the turtles have been in space and when they know more about who the Triceratons are.  2012 on the other hand is a sudden introduction to a new arc.

2003 also... questions the ethics of their decision more, by the end.  It’s a bit more empathetic?  And I appreciate that.

I will give 2012 credit that translating “we’ve been dropped into the middle of a war where both sides are bad” over to be attached to the Kraang, which they’ve built up already as a powerful alien threat, was clever.  It doesn’t have the same edge of commentary that “and one of these sides looks just like us humans” has, but it is clever use of their existing world-building, and I like it.

The Arena vs The Arena of Carnage

The most obvious connection in the 2012 space arc – the turtles get thrown into a gladiator arena.

Now, 2003 does have an unfair advantage in this comparison, as The Arena is heavily bolstered by the set-up work done in The Big House, giving you a sense of place, stakes, connection to the other characters...

That last bit is where my bias and personal taste shows: I really love the turtles making any kind of meaningful connection with other characters, and I find this more convincing in the 2003 version than the 2012 one.

But 2012 also weakens itself in its own right by doing some setup here with no long-term pay off.  You’ve got your fellow prisoner, who turns out to be a Triceraton who objected to the leadership's decisions... and after this episode, that means nothing!  Cool, okay.

Like I get that was a part of the episode they’re pulling from, but if they’re not planning on reusing that long-term story, then they really could have cut that aspect all together.  I know they have enough creativity in them to adapt the concept of “stuck in a gladiator arena” to do something more interesting, they’ve proved they have it in them.  They just... didn’t, and the plot point didn’t translate well.  Ah, well.

2003 also wins this one.

City at War vs... City at War?(???)

Look, I am only comparing these because they use the exact same name.  Otherwise, it’s nowhere near a fair comparison.  For 2012, this is actually part of a couple episodes where they talk about there being a power vacuum after the Shredder is out of the picture, but...

Can we be so real?  They don’t even get close to the scale of 2003.  Like with the farmhouse, it’s not that they don’t have any good ideas – I like the Don Visioso episode quite a bit – but it never gets to the depth or scale I want it to. 

Like, 2003 made it visually obvious that the city is falling apart, that things are really out of control, in a way you can feel. Though, honestly, I’m not even sure 2012 could reach the levels of 2003, because they never put as much effort into making their NYC feel... real?  I guess?

Also, the 2003 City at War arc is just.  It’s really good, guys.  It did such great work on Leo and Raph’s characterization, the danger in the city is palpable, the tension is thick, and then you add Karai on top of it all?

You’d think 2012 could push this, given the added dimensions to Karai and her connection to Shredder, but it ends up falling short.  Point again goes to 2003.

What a Croc! Vs It Came From the Depths (Leatherhead)

So. I am painfully biased, because It Came From the Depths is my favorite 2012 Mikey episode, and I thought What a Croc! was... just okay.

I frequently bemoan that 2012 didn’t lean more into long-form character arcs for their story, and this is one of the central episodes that defined my desire for Mikey’s arc.

The instant compassion and understanding he has for Leatherhead – the way he recognizes and is willing to work with his trauma responses, but also is childishly impatient with the process when it gets messy later on, showing he still has some maturing to do – it's great, and I love it.  I didn’t find the same kind of depth in the 2003 episode.

On the other hand, long-term I like Leatherhead better in 2003, just because he’s more present as ally, friend, or even family.  2012 Mikey’s always excited to see Leatherhead, but you don’t exactly see them hanging out.

But this is about the episode, and for that, I’ll give it to 2012.

Renet (Time Travails + Return of the Savanti Vs Turtles in Time + Tale of the Yokai)

I’ll be real with you, 2003 gains points with me just because this is another example of 2012 poorly shoving in romance. I would like to make it clear – I don’t have an objective issue with the turtles being in romantic relationships.  It’s just... don’t put it in there if the writing's going to be so... bad. And boring. And unnecessary.

Additionally, this particular example put me off a bit more because... hm. Okay, the episode starts with Mikey going “I'm never gonna get caught up in all that!" Only for the show to do the writing equivalent of saying "of course you will, as soon as the right person comes along. And here she is!"

And uhm.  Okay, so, I’m asexual with a big ? when it comes to romance.  So that framing is..... nghghghgh I don't like it. Like I get the joke, but it still gave me the ick.

Also it was another infatuation-at-first-sight situation like Donnie which. Is a romantic trope that is So Stupid, you CANNOT tell me that's how it actually works, I don't believe you, and also it makes for stupid, boring writing. So there.

Ahem.

Once you get past that, there’s points to be made for both episodes.  The way the 2003 turtles find Renet just kind of tiring but can’t help going along with her anyways is very funny to me, but 2012 lets them do Tales of the Yokai, and I enjoy the concept of them getting to see what Actually Happened Back Then, rather than just hearing subjective stories of it.  Adds some texture.

I dunno on this one – if it’s Time Travails vs Turtles in Time, 2003 wins, but once you move on to Tale of the Yokai I give it to 2012.  Call it a draw?

Loosely inspired by

Okay. So. These are things where I can’t say “Oh, they were just doing this story again”, but where I think there might have been some heavy inspiration.  Your mileage may very on these, and you could think I’m completely wrong, but I thought they’d be interested to talk about.

Even if they are from Back to the Sewers.

The Engagement Ring to The Power Within Her

April gets magic jewelry that possesses her, goes on a rampage?  Admittedly, the set-up is very different, as is the tone, but... well, you have to wonder.

I thought The Engagement Ring was one of the better episodes of Back to the Sewers, but as entertaining as it was, I’m still going to give this to 2012, I think.  I like things that have more build-up to them, and they did pretty good at setting up this episode ahead of time, building up that dread.  And it just did more with the concept, you know?

Also, it fit well into my interpretation/re-write of April’s character, so.

Identity Crisis to Brain Worms

I mean.  Turtles get brain-washed by the Foot, have to be broken out of it by being reminded of memories/who they were.  Methodology of the brainwashing is very different, admittedly, which is why I put this down here rather than in the main section!  But it’s similar enough for me to connect them.

This is another situation where I think 2012 took a concept and further developed it.  The brain worms are fantastically gruesome, and really treated like the existential horror it should be.  The amount of fics I’ve seen expanding on the brain-worms concept is proof of how it hooks in people’s brains.

Another point to 2012.

Conclusion

So let’s run a tally.

I'm not sure the two Back to the Sewer episodes count, but I also maybe have broken my rule on the farmhouse arc... I guess we could count those as half points?

Casey Intro: Draw

Window: point 2012

Farmhouse: half-point 2003

Lost triceraton: point 2003

Gladiator arena: Point 2003

City at War: point 2003

Leatherhead intro: point 2012

Renet: Draw

Losely inspired: cumulative point 2012

So that's... 3.5 for 2003, 3 for 2012, and two draws? Pretty close.

Realistically, I think these should be the two takeaways from my opinions:

First, 2003 better matches my personal tastes. I'm a character arc girly, and 2003 gave a lot more attention to that aspect of their writing than 2012 did, and that affects my opinions. See: the Vision Quest rant.

Second, what makes 2012 good is the stuff that’s specific to its iteration.

The way they adapted the Hamato Yoshi backstory from 2003 to be about Splinter and Shredder, making Karai Splinter’s stolen daughter, and how that whole plot line plays out.  The way they make the Kraang a whole organization, and their alliance with Shredder.  The full season, Rube-Goldberg machine buildup of plot.  These are all the thing that make it excel.

So... yeah. That's my thoughts. Your opinions might be different, and - if you're nice about it, please - I would love to hear your thoughts on what I've said, which episodes you like better, and why you like them! Shows hit different people, well, differently!

[lets-steal-an-archive]

And yes, the Trump campaign is pretty clearly committed to stealing the election by crying foul about voter fraud, declaring victory on election night, pretending that the slow process of counting all the votes is somehow illegitimate, and working with his co-conspirators in the GOP House to steal it away in some sort of post-election coup that Trump couldn’t help but teasing as a “little secret” of theirs.

Luckily, the Democrats seem to realize these things will assuredly happen and have said they’re ready to respond and push back immediately when they do. 

But things would be even better off for the Harris campaign, obviously, not just if she pulls out a clear win, but if she pulls out an overwhelming win. The larger the margin of the popular vote nationwide, the harder it will be for Trump’s lackeys to pretend the election was “stolen” from them. And the broader the electoral map is for her, the harder it will be for Trump’s lawyers to subvert the results. (When it all hinged on Florida in 2000, it was relatively easy to flip. When they had to reverse several states in 2020, it became impossible.)

So that brings us back to what you can do this weekend. And that’s do whatever you can to help get out the vote, to make sure the Democratic ticket runs up the numbers and not just wins, but wins convincingly. 

In general, check out the Harris-Walz campaign GOTV page which has a number of links for checking registrations, volunteering, canvassing and phone banking. Even if you can just do a day or an afternoon or an hour, that’s better than nothing, and I mean that in terms of helping the campaign but also channeling your nervous energy into something useful. 

[…]

Anyway, check out state and local resources. For instance, here’s a ballot curing operation in Pennsylvania that starts up [today]. And here’s another for Michigan that targets absentee ballots after the election. And North Carolina. This is an incredibly important role and one you can do from home. Look for places to help out here.

I keep thinking about how I felt the first week after the 2016 election, a bit dazed but mostly angry with myself for feeling I hadn’t done as much as I could have to keep a psychopath out of the presidency. I’m sure you felt something similar. Let’s do what we can to make sure we don’t go through that again, and a whole lot more.

Run through the tape.

Stop worrying about what might happen. Make the future you want actually happen.

[tapwater118]

The Post-Split Rant, Part 2

a.k.a.: Grown Adult somehow whines about Baby Cartoon for even longer

Part 1

BFB Post-Split is my least favorite season, so I’m gonna keep whinging on about it. As a reminder to all who bother to read this, this is my opinion. It is fine if you disagree with me about something, and you probably will. This is a good thing! Disagreement invites discussion, as long as all involved are willing to discuss.

Ok let’s just get right into it.

BFB 22

THE LEAFY PLUSH IS NOW AVAILABLE!!!!! I don’t have really anything to say about the ad intro other than it’s become a vocal stim for me. Moving on.

erm taco got out and she was my favortie character so this js the wrost epistioe

Ok, but seriously.

Overall, this is a pretty fun episode! “Court case” doesn’t really sound like it would make for that good of a challenge, but they make it work! A lot of funny moments all around. Jet-flying class is a top tier bit.

That being said, I have two VERY BIG ISSUES with this episode that keep it out of my favorites list. The second one I want to save for later (after BFB 24), so let’s talk about that first one.

This episode, and the resulting elimination segment in the following episode, is the biggest middle finger to Bubble Post-Split ever pulls. She is killed off very early into the challenge, and is not recovered until the next episode. I believe this is directly responsible for her elimination. Leafy gets her moment with Firey (more on that later), Lollipop and Gelatin form their Newbie Alliance, and Teardrop has some cute moments with the typewriter. Every Have Cotter gets to do something intriguing or endearing this episode, except for Bubble. She is, quite literally, written out of the show. It’s not even like she did nothing because she’s a boring character; Bubble is a very interesting character! She was just killed off. (Honestly reminds me of how in season 1 they were pretty obviously trying to get people to vote Ice Cube out near the end, only this time they didn’t have to resort to a contestant vote to do so.)

Like I said, we’ll get to that second issue in a bit.

BFB 23

One last one-two combo on Bubble for really no reason or payoff here. Pretty much nobody remembers she even died last episode, and her elimination is by far one of the most anticlimactic in the entire series. No drum roll or anything, and she barely even gets to say bye. Spongy, the character everyone always seems to point to when people talk about characters being mistreated by the writers (rightfully so imo), had a more impactful elimination.

This episode is just bland. Challenge-wise it’s the exact opposite of BFB 22; the premise for the challenge is really interesting (A jailbreak! That’s exciting!), but they execute it in probably the most boring way possible. One team spends the whole time jumping on boxing gloves, and the other basically has a repeat of BFB 21. The Flower and Purple Face stinger is the best part of the episode.

Just wanted to mention Flower here because I’ll probably forget to do this later; she’s actually written pretty well, by Post-Split standards. I’ve seen people say she wasn’t done well by Post-Split, but I honestly don’t really see it. Post continues her character quite cleanly from Pre-Split; she wants to make friends and make amends for her past behavior, while also still being a bit rude and off-putting. Don’t really see where the issue is here. (As for why she’s like this versus her BFDI/A self, we’ll probably have to wait for IDFB to pick back up.)

BFB 24

Unless something really dumb happens in BFB 28-30 that I’m forgetting (haven’t got there on my rewatch yet), this is probably the worst episode in all of Post-Split, and maybe even the whole series. I know this is the worst episode because it was the only one during my rewatch where I checked how much time was left, saw I still had half the episode to go, and audibly groaned. Nothing happens the entire challenge except for people shitting around and talking, and the overall payoff for most of the contestants not doing the challenges is like one and a half kinda funny jokes. We barely get to see any of them getting the supplies for their parties, or setting them up, or even anything related to the parties until it comes time to judge. The intro/Cake at Stake are so much more engaging than the actual challenge portion. The best part is the Flower and Leafy team-up and even then barely anything happens. Definitely up there with the likes of BFDI 16, BFDIA 1, and BFB 5 for the “real stinker challenge segment” award.

Purple Face becomes a mainstay here, so I guess I’ll comment on him. He’s whatever. He has some good bits, but overall feels like he doesn’t bring anything new to the table. Kinda unnecessary for what Post-Split goes for (or at least tries to go for).

I’ll be completely honest and say I completely forgot about this Gelatin-Teardrop “arc” before this rewatch. It kinda comes out of nowhere too; their moments of “conflict” are not brought up as such (not even any subtle insinuation) until this point. But hey, maybe if they expand on it, Post-Split could really have something intere—aaaaaand it’s over. The same episode this “arc” is established, it gets entirely resolved. Glad that that conflict totally got fleshed out and developed to its full potential. Yup.

Ok, I said we would talk about it after BFB 24, so here we go. My second main reason for making this rant:

I do not like how Post-Split resolved Firey and Leafy’s arc

If you’re gonna disagree with me on anything in this rant, it’ll probably be this.

Let’s start with BFB 22.

First off, bozo, she DID try to talk with you, you just slammed the (soundproof) door in her face before she could get a point across. Ok time to talk about the actual writing.

As a whole, this whole scene comes off as extremely biased towards Firey. Yes, Leafy never apologized for stealing Dream Island, but Firey never apologized for both excluding her for an extremely petty reason and for ignoring her in the years since. This SHOULD have been a mutual make-up between the two. Both apologize for their misdeeds towards the other, and both promise to do better with each other moving forward.

Instead, we this one-sided argument wherein Firey is given much more pity than Leafy by the show. He isn’t even all that remorseful about how he’s treated Leafy, he’s more distraught over potentially being eliminated for stealing the diary. And Leafy, of course, offers to throw the challenge to make sure he isn’t up for elimination. Ok. Sure. Maybe that is in Leafy’s character, to help save Firey from elimination when he’s done something the viewers won’t like; she is the super nice one after all.

Anyway here’s a completely unrelated screenshot from BFB 15. Just putting this here for no particular reason.

Episode ends with them being friends again, and Firey’s only punishment for stealing the diary is to clean the railway. Yippee.

Fast forward to BFB 24: Lollipop snarks in Leafy’s direction, and Leafy tells Firey she’s upset about him not standing up for her, as well as all the time he spent ignoring her. And Firey apologizes! Great!

THIS SHOULD NOT HAVE TAKEN 2 MORE EPISODES TO GET TO!!! THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN IN BFB 22 WITH THE REST OF THE MAKE-UP SCENE (aside from the ferris wheel probably)!!!!! I can only imagine the crew realized how one-sided BFB 22 was to Firey, so they decide to shoehorn in this scene into BFB 24 to try and fix it. It doesn’t, and this moment feels so phoned in.

Overall, my main issue with how Post-Split handles this reconciliation is that it feels sloppy. It’s too biased towards one side, and they try and correct for that too little too late. It feels like rather than something they wanted to write, it was something they had to write, as they (correctly) predicted Firey didn’t have much more time in the game left, and if they didn’t do this now they wouldn’t get a chance to later.

Anyway, Firey gets eliminated so no more of this arc for a bit. Let’s move on.

BFB 25

Just want to mention it here, because this episode has a perfect example of it, but Four has definitely changed from Pre to Post-Split. Here Gelatin slaps Four, and instead of Four giving him a face full of zappies like Four most certainly would have in Pre-Split, Four just kinda insults him and then the episode moves on. I won’t really say whether this is a good or a bad change, but I will say I like Four much more in TPOT than in Post-Split.

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP

Meme-slop aside, this is a very whatever episode. More just walking and talking, you know how I feel about these already. I do like both the detail of how Flower’s vomit-repelling sweater was what was causing the vomit-filled totem to run away from her, as well as the fact this detail goes pretty much unspoken. Certainly a nice change of pace from the amount of over-explaining characters tend to do (COUGH COUGH LOLLIPOP COUGH).

The best part of the episode happens near the very end. You know what part I’m talking about.

i need her

BFB 26

It’s the Profily episode! I guess I’ll touch on them a bit. They’re a pretty funny joke character! I can’t decide whether it’s funnier for them to have been there all along and nobody noticed, or for them to straight up be lying about everything. This is a good thing. Past that though, they’re just ok. Some good bits here and there, but after this episode they just become another face in BFDI’s minor character menagerie with nothing to really set them apart.

Nothing really to complain about here. Fun episode! Lots of silly things, and nothing stays still for too long. This and BFB 20 really show how good Post-Split could have been, I think. I do prefer 20 a good bit more, but I’d rank this one above 22.

Time to ditch the Pillary Ruins.

BFB 27

The thumbnail is the worst thing about this episode. Just look at it. Why is there just an ugly chartreuse slab on the side. Why are the characters arranged so haphazardly. What even is this composition. It barely even fits with the rest of the Post-Split thumbnails. I hate it.

What gets me is that there was a scrapped thumbnail that looked a lot better! No clue why they switched it.

I do like the desert as a setting more than the Pillary Ruins, which might be an uncommon opinion idk. The ruins always felt too cluttered to be good default backdrops, so going to something simpler is nice.

Yeah I don’t have much to say about this one, another “whatever talky bluh bluh” episode, but this does have some more funny moments than others like it so there’s that. The Flower and TD montage was silly, and it seems like they kinda set Leafy up for elimination solely because they didn’t want her in the top 3 again. Nothing really much else to say.

Actually, come to think of it, this is the last “regular” challenge before the final all-in-one challenge. Maybe escaping the oven was a callback to BFDI 22’s escaping the volcano? If so, BFDI 22 did it better.

This seems like a good time to stop for now. They’re about to bring back all of the eliminated contestants, so I’ll be touching on both Taco and Firey/Leafy again in the next and final part of this rant. We’ll also get to the third main reason I’m making this rant: BFB 30.

Part 3

[kojoty]

It's obviously a complex question and discussion and I'm certainly admitting to a level of blue-state privilege wherein my vote really only matters in so far as working towards getting funding for a third party, like green; not to mention the privilege of, being in such a blue swaddled state, my rights are not immediately at stake-- so I am including myself in this but.

I really, really, really, really wish people in blue states like Cali, new York, Illinois, etc-- heart of dem territory and the places where your rights are NOT at contest-- would sometimes shut the fuck up and listen to the extremely valid worries and fears and pleas of people in deep red states. I think saying 'it doesn't matter who is in office, they're basically two sides of the same coin', while true ideologically in the grand leftist scheme, it also does betray a certain level of handwaving to millions of Americans where who is in office DOES matter.

And I know this is the anti colonialism website, and so we don't really want to talk about domestic issues as much as foreign policies-- completely understandable given the current global conflict-- but consider America is a vile colonial project, that which we do to our domestic underclasses IS a colonial issue as well.

I am not going to say 'go vote!' because who am I, Hillary Clinton? But I guess I am trying to say... It is really frustrating as someone who does a lot of on-the-ground community resource work in his fairly privileged area and see how the difference in economic status between a democratic and a republican president really matters, and then come on here and see the ever present leftist issue of taking ideology over material. I cannot imagine the landscape of on the ground resource work in more impoverished areas.

(most Marxists in this website really obfuscate how much material work they actually do, and are, in fact, often pontificating on ideological castles in the sky, but that's another post)

The tldr here really is: the amount of deep red state southerners who are telling you with crystal clarity that someone like Harris in office is magnitudes safer than someone like Trump in office, and urging people in states where it matters to vote....... I mean. You don't have to listen to them (even though I think you should hear their perspective), but the least you could do is not completely ignore and shun the very real realities of millions of Americans who are with good reason scared shitless that one nominee will keep the liberal hegemony (also vile-- don't take this as me condoning it), and the other will systematically make their very existence illegal. That isn't to say it can't still happen-- roe v wade-- under a dem, but. You... You do realize that it does actually matter to some people in certain states whether the pres is red or blue, right? And that yes it sucks that we have to play by American rules to keep some folks safe but.

Idk. The amount of 'leftists' on this site who paradoxically care far more about their ideological purity than the actual people who need actual material work done is... Well, that's not my leftism tbh. The amount of condescension I see levied at people daily on here. It's not just a bad look. It's Imo betraying to me that your politics are more about signpostibg and being right than actual community and human care and connection . And it happens! Ideology is a tantalizing thing. I have to constantly divorce myself from it and reintegrate into the ground. But you can't make policy out of air. You can make policy out of soil. You have to remind yourself of the faces and the beating hearts your ideology is addressing. Even if you're RIGHT are you giving the infoemation in a way that actually cares?

Idk. I don't wanna tone police. But there's a very deep seated and real classism and privilege issue within the online left that is...... Distasteful to say the least. Idc if you go vote. But the least you could do is not bully people who are more scared for policy changes that will actively affect them. It is not betraying fear and outrage at what is happening outside of these borders-- the atrocity in Gaza-- to also be scared of your own living conditions. One can balance both.

[katieaki]

My ✨ post-apocalyptic Lesbian Cowgirl Mailman choose-your-own adventure✨ has just updated! Read it here for free on my Patreon and vote in the poll! There is a summary of the first part, here, the second part, here, and the third part, here. They have everything you need to know about Lou, her requited-but-complicated love, the religious assassin who just beat the tar out of her, the worst person she's ever met, and the ill-advised journey she is on! There is also now a discord where Pony Express readers from all across god's green internet can gather, here! The Girls are working through revelations from the most recent update and this shit is real! They really did meet each other before. It's a small post-apocalypse, but is it that small? Or is this the work of the gods? But why would the gods, who have so much else to worry about, give two shits about a five-foot-nothing, loser lesbian cowgirl mailman?

Read the update for free on my patreon & vote on what happens next! Excerpt below the cut.

“I’ve prayed before,” Lou said. She prayed all the time. Well, maybe not all the time. But on holidays and sometimes she went to a shrine for deliveries, usually under the encouragement of a shrineward that she felt too awkward to turn down. “You obviously pray all the time. You work for Their Honor. Your mama and daddy are both church people. And look where you are now. How long do you have left? Some good it’s done you.”

Artie’s eyes darted back to Holliday and Lou realized that she hadn’t just missed all the crush conversation, but also the conversation about Artie being put to death. Luckily, she didn’t seem to notice as she was shifting back and forth experimentally in her saddle.

“It’s done me a lot of good, actually,” Artie said. Her voice sounded thick and she swallowed before continuing. “If I drop down dead from the saddle right this second, prayer still made the twentyish years I’ve had between escaping and right now years that were worth living. Because the gods care about me, like they care about you, like they care about Holliday.”

“Venus prays for me, anyway,” Lou said. Venus told her all the time that she was praying for her starting very early on in their acquaintance. 

“And Venus knows your heart completely? Every dark corner? Every fear? Every desire?” Artie asked. She seemed lit from within, not with a soft, pleasant glow, but a wildfire. For the first time in a while, Lou remembered that she frightened her. “Lou, if you don’t pray, you probably don’t even know your every desire. Prayer is revelatory. It reveals things.”

“Oh, good,” Lou said. “Just what I need: more desires I can’t achieve. I’m always thinking that what I really need, what’d really do me, is to have more wants.”

“Just because you don’t know they’re there doesn’t mean they’re not hurting you,” Artie said. “If you can see them, if you talk to the gods about them, then together, you can handle them.”

“I can’t understand why I’m being preached to right now,” Lou said. Her head ached.

“‘Cuz, unfortunately for you, you’re traveling with a fucking disciple,” Artie said.

[hugintheraven]

Let's poll RPF

Not the morality debate, that's been done to death and is honestly uninteresting to me. But what is Real-Person Fic/Real-Person Shipping? Or, more specifically, what qualifies as a real person?

Because obviously Tony Stark is fictional, while your friend Antony is a real person. But past that point, everything gets blurry. Like professional wrestlers, who are playing a created character along a prewritten storyline, but are doing so unscripted and often under their real name and as a reflection of their real fake fighting capabilities. Plenty of bands and Twitch Streamers have played out fake drama for the media attention, which is basically the same thing except less openly fake.

Stephen Colbert of the Colbert Report was clearly playing a parody of a far-right news personality, but did so with his real name and background. And when he moved to the Late Show, he's still putting on a fake personality there, just like every other famous person when the cameras are on them(you can't act like you do in front of your family on the red carpet, or vice versa). But when that's the case, how is that different from the barista who smiles while mentally stabbing every person in line?

And then there's stuff like George Washington. We have an IRL historical figure, a mythological figure that resembles a demigod more than a human, and the version from various fictional media(Hamilton et al). If someone writes fics based on each of those versions, which are RPF? And, once you answer that, do you think the same answers apply to Mulan?

So, the point of this post. Here's a list of options, from most fictional to most real. At which point do you consider it to be RPF. Note: I DO NOT CARE whether you approve of shipping it or not, the question is just at what entry in the poll would you think it needs a tag/warning/whatever. Please vote for the first you think is RPF, we can assume that means everything past that point is also RPF(because that's the only way to poll this on this site).

Please reblog, I'll be tagging this with RPF related stuff, but I want everyone's opinions of this. And feel free to go in-depth in the tags/RBs on your nuances, "At what point does someone become fictional" is a rather hefty question for a Tumblr poll.

[doyouknowthischaracter]

RANDOM ASKS GRAB BAG

Putting a bunch of answered asks in one post so I don't spam your dashes too much. Under the cut because it's a very long post. If your ask isn't here, don't worry! The ask box is far from empty, and I'm sorta trying to group them by topic. Enjoy?

Anonymous asked: you mentioned in another ask that there were a few things you were probably going to check out from doing these polls and I was just curious which ones those are, if you don't mind sharing fjdjsj

I don't mind sharing! I had to go through the archive to remember which ones I wanted to check out, but a few of them would be The Walten Files, Red vs. Blue, The Murderbot Diaries, I Am In Eskew, and The Mistholme Museum of Mystery, Morbidity, and Mortality. Many of the characters posted here look interesting, but I'm such a slow watcher/player/reader/etc. that it'd take me decades to go through everything lol

Anonymous asked: Have you considered doing like uhhh idk how to explain properly, but statistics/data from loads of polls in a summary every so often? I've seen some poll blogs do a most known/least known type bar graph every so often. And I would be super interested in seeing this sort of thing for this blog!! It's fair enough if not though, obviously this would create a lot of extra work for you. Anyway, thanks for running this blog :-) Anonymous asked: I just asked a question about seeing the data statistics/ bar graphs - please ignore it! Just reread your pinned and realised I'd missed that bit :'). BUT, last point remains, thank you for running this blog and putting up with repetitive anons I bet aksjskdjsk

I haven't put the data in a graph yet, but if I figure out how to organize that in a way that's both comprehensible and actually tells us something new, I'll give it a try for sure. Until then, we do have the spreadsheet. And no worries, I'm glad you're enjoying the blog! :)

Anonymous asked: *sees a poll blog* "I must answer each and every poll I can"

Godspeed on your journey and remember to stay hydrated! 🫡

Anonymous asked: this is my favorite blog! Every morning I wake up and check the polls like they're the paper, just to say "I don't know them" Truely a humbling experience!

Happy to be your neighborhood paperboy!

@iceice-baeby asked: Are olyou fearing the day someone submits Solid Snake from MGS and you will choose the wrong picture Because everyone always seems to choose the wrong picture

The only difficulty will be in not using this one:

Anonymous asked: Just scrolled back through your blog up to posts from Dec 3rd and I know why those polls are closed now but I cannot describe the genuine anguish I felt seeing Mr Orange and going NO I KNOW HIM - I KNOW HIM!!!! Anyway I found this blog like ten minutes ago and I love it

Don't worry, he's A-OK! 👍

(Also, thanks! I appreciate your dedication.)

Anonymous asked: scrolling through to catch up on the characters and knowing a whole three of them was so bizarre. im not supposed to press the yes i know them button, im supposed to do my sworn duty and vote no with unending confusion. the world has been flipped on its head 😵‍💫

I bet the next 30 were characters you've never heard of, just for balance to be restored.

Anonymous asked: Whenever i misclick I feel sooooo bad like im sorry my dear friend for not recognizing you I apologize for my rudeness

No polls so far ended with only one vote difference between answers, so you don't have to feel too bad. For now. 👀

Anonymous asked: this is fun cause i’ve definitely submitted some characters but i’ve immediately forgotten who. so i’ll also be pleasantly surprised to see my beloveds on the blog.

A gift from you to you, courtesy of unreliable memory! Sweet!

Anonymous asked: Devastating. I keep missing the voting for the only characters I know.

You'll do it one day, I believe in you!!

@iceice-baeby asked: Would you consider writing in the tags if YOU know a character or not You have done it sometimes before, but I'd be curious if you do recognise some of those random niche as all hell blorbos Also I can't wait for my Blorbos turn. Because either He-and-she is gonna take most obscure place, OR I will actually find maybe more than two people, myself included, who know him-and-her and who I can ramble at for hours until they block me

Oh yeah, for sure. I didn't think anyone would be interested to know, but I can do that when I remember to!

Did your blorbo show up already?

Anonymous asked: I have been having the opposite problem of everyone else, apparently. I'll see a name and be like, "I don't know who that is". But then I see the picture and realize… Yes I do!

That's why I take the time to include fitting pictures, helps jog the memory!

Anonymous asked: I feel very superior every time I know a character most people don't

Hey, nobody likes a show-off. (<- Joking)

Anonymous asked: Wait, has Beetlejuice not been submitted?? I could've sworn I submitted the musical version! Anonymous asked: Oh wait no I didn't submit musical Beetlejuice to you, got you mixed up with @/every-character-ever-poll lol my bad

Indeed he hasn't been submitted yet, maybe next time!

@thetisming asked: sorry for saying something negative in the replies to a post someone was being a dick about jukebox musicals

No worries, but don't let it get to you. People are allowed to dislike your favorite things even without any good reason. It's a matter of taste, which is highly subjective. It's more constructive to focus your attention on people who do enjoy the same things as you!

@autism-criminal asked: What is your favorite color of the rainbow (red orange yellow green blue indigo purple) ?

Orange! 🍊 What's yours? :)

Anonymous asked: "data is not accurate" bro if ur going to a tumblr poll blog for accurate data you NEED to reassess some things asdfghjkl; anyway this blog is great thank you for running it it's a lot of fun and has resulted in some very funny interactions between me and my fiance. notably "what the fuck do you MEAN 6% of the sans undertale website doesn't know who sans undertale is" and "i'm sorry i simply don't believe that ANYONE doesn't know who DRACULA is"

Different people come here with different expectations, I suppose. Which is fine, I don't mind, but they're bound to be disappointed if they expect 100% accuracy all the time. But anyway! I'm happy to hear I can provide a new form of enrichment for you and your fiancé!

@sweetpollyolliver asked: So many manga and anime characters and I know like 1% of them 😭

I'm ngl, I'm not a big manga/anime connoisseur either, so I'm just as lost as you most of the time lol 🤝 (<- shaking hands in solidarity)

@cringelordofchaos asked: If I go insane one day I am going to try to make an English translation for Mesec Boje Purpura so everyone can know who veštica Noks is

I'm fully behind you! Keep us updated if you do.

Anonymous asked: I scroll through your blog. I don’t recognise any of these characters. ‘No,’ I click, ‘no,’ ‘no,’ ‘no.’ I am content in the darkness of the rock I live under. But, alas, all things must end. I continue my scroll, the glee of the irrelevant rampant in my veins. But what’s this? It can’t be… My shelter is cruelly ripped away and the brutal light of knowledge seeks me out like a bloodhound, it gives me no place to hide. ‘Yes,’ I sob, defeated, ‘Yes, I do know the jjba character.’

A modern-day Greek tragedy, truly 💔

Anonymous asked: was really surprised to vote and see that a character was 100% know them. then I noticed I got there early enough to be the only vote

For one shining, brilliant moment they were 100% known and surely that counts for something.

Anonymous asked: You should make up a character and make a poll for them and see how many people lie or misclick

Well....... I'm not going to comment on that. 🐰

Anonymous asked: I follow this blog and another blog that does smash or pass and occassionally I will come to one of your posts and examine the images to decide and then remember this blog's gimmick before trying to hit smash

Imagine voting smash there and then coming here to vote "I don't know them at all" on the same character. Brutal.

@ink7blot asked: *sees big naturals* I hate that. *reblogs*

A job well done, then 😌

[colorisbyshe]

How can you justify voting in this election?

Quite easily.

I do not vote while worrying about myself. By that I mean, I'm not voting to ensure I'm a good person. I am not that self centered. If this election is a stain on my soul, so fucking be it. It's not about me. If I'm a lesser person for what I have done to survive, the same way we're all lesser people for not doing EVERY SINGLE THING WE CAN EVERY SINGLE DAY to help other people, so be it.

I see this election as a form of survival. I am voting to keep as many people alive as possible. You when you're on a plane and they say put on your mask before you put on your child's or anyone else that can't? Same energy. More people survive when more people can put on their masks. Mutual aid, direct action, civil disobedience, things more extreme can all be easier and more effective with the right electorate.

I don't see voting as a cure all. I think of voting as a small, small step in a much larger plan. Voting is... a day, max. Voting is a couple hours of research into ALL of the candidates and measures on the ballot (spread out over an entire election cycle) and, depending on where you are, either a couple minutes or a couple hours in line. It could be a couple minutes filling in and dropping off a ballot. It does not get in the way of spending the rest of the year/term doing more directly impactful things.

Actual activists, who are on the streets and have dedicated their lives to good work, have encouraged people to vote. No one posts about it here but like... actual activists have been saying "It's horrible that these are our choices and yet we still must choose." Like... I don't really presume to know better than the people who have actually gone up to Kamala and begged her to change her ways.

Voter suppression, gerrymandering, and other forms of violence and disenfranchisement against potential voters are all proof that voting does matter, even when it doesn't feel like it.

I recognize "not enough of a difference between candidates" isn't the same as "no difference." The difference is thousands upon thousands of lives, tbh. But, if nothing else, you should be concerned about the fate of the supreme court right now.

Voting is not about what feels good. It's about what keeps things from getting even worse. That's it.

The conversation, the election, is going to happen whether or not your voice is involved. Why would you concede your spot on the table to someone you view as less moral than yourself? Why would you let someone else speak up over you while you stay mum?

And, again, voting today or any other day does not take any meaningful time or effort away from doing more impactful work. There's literally nothing to lose by voting today besides your self-obsessed sense of integrity.

Integrity doesn't' save lives, doesn't feed people, don't affect the supreme court, doesn't impact debt or the healthcare system. It's not going with these people to the grave or to the hospital or to school. Integrity isn't going to keep climate change at bay.

I'm also too cognizant of actual reality and not tumblr world to think a Trump presidency would be identical to a Kamala presidency. Like... I'm sorry, I do think Kamala is a terrible choice, I do think Biden has been a terrible president, and yet I do know it can be worse.

Most people I voted for aren't as different as they should be from their competitors. That weighs heavily on me. It agonizes me that we do not have good choices.

But we (speaking broadly, obviously I have noted some people ARE disenfranchised) still do have choices and there are still differences. And those differences include whether or not some people eat, whether some people get medical treatment, whether or not some people die.

Who the fuck am I to say let them die so I can feel good about myself and say I "taught the democrats a lesson" by not voting them (which is not a thing that has EVER worked, btw, democrats do not learn from you trying to rub their nose on the mess they made)

I'm not interested in feeling good about myself at anyone else's expense.

If you can't do it, no judgment. I do recognize how horrific this entire situation is. I'm just not built like that. Like if you really, really can't do it, so be it. If Kamala loses, it's her fault for being so fucking awful.

But... idk man. If even one additional person lives under her that would've died under Trump, I can't turn away from them. Personally.