#a unique response for every answer given

[paimonial-rage]

Omg hi! How are you? Sorry for taking a while to write the fic I promised you. I struggled to figure out which word, the character, and the setting. I'm almost finished! Will be done in the following days, so there are no more delays! -Yuri

Aww, don't worry about it! Even though I am looking forward to it, I am in no rush. Honestly I'm having trouble with writing right now, so I totally get it.

[beardedjoel]

pretty little wife | better now

joel miller x f!reader one shot collection

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 summary: 3.9k words, a snippet of a day in the life of husband! joel and his lovely housewife | no apocalypse au, no use of y/n warnings: 18+ MDNI! pre-established relationship/dynamic, unprotected piv, rough sex, free use kink, sub/dom relationship, cum play, spit kink, exhibition kink, dirty talk, pet names for reader, brief mention of alcohol, generally extremely submissive reader so if you're into that this is for you! a/n: not pretending this is anything other than some little fantasy i had that i needed to write out. i'm really excited about this one shot series for husband!joel though, i have some really fun (and depraved) ideas planned for these two for future blurbs so stayed tuned if you like this one! reblogs + comments are always loved and appreciated! ♡

i've decided to start a kofi in case anyone wants to consider a small donation to support my work! ♡

How’s my pretty little wife today?

The words you look forward to each day, falling from your husbands lips in some form or another, whether it’s rasped tenderly in your ear, from between your legs as he smirks up at you, or from over your shoulder as he slams his cock into you, sending you to heaven and back down as soon as he can after walking in the door after work.  

Joel asks the question today after walking up behind you in the backyard, his mouth already next to your ear, warm breath tickling along your skin there as he brushes your hair over your shoulder. The wiry texture of his beard nuzzles right into your neck, sending a thrill down your spine as his arms slide around your waist and hold you tightly to him, swaying you back and forth. The motion is soothing, reminding you that you’re right where you’re meant to be.  

You can smell the workday on him - sweat and dirt and the outdoors, and the lingering scent of the cologne you’d given him this past Christmas. He’d sprayed it on this morning, as he does every morning since you bought it for him. Makes me think of you all day, he’d remind you while you’d watched from your bed with a teasing smile, sheet disheveled and draped over your naked body.

You breathe all of it in, savoring this scent unique to your husband, before touching your hand to where his rests around your belly and stroking it gently.

“Better now,” you answer. More times than not, that’s your response to his routine question, knowing it drives him wild, makes a long day of work ache a little less when he hears you say it.

“S’what I like to hear,” he says, a kiss on your neck leading up to your lips - a long, deep, ravenous kiss that already leaves you breathless. He pulls away so suddenly you nearly have whiplash, your head falling slightly into nothing, missing his lips.

“Smells good out here,” Joel comments, turning his nose up in the air slightly. “Usin’ the new pizza oven already?” 

When you’d made a passing comment about wishing you could make wood fired pizzas at home, just like the ones a restaurant in town serves, Joel seemed to take it seriously, as he did with most things involving your wishes and desires. The next weekend, he’d hauled in bricks and began his work. You’d stepped out into the yard when you heard all the commotion, giving him a quizzical stare, and he’d simply grinned and shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world that he should be building his wife a pizza oven. You’d nearly teared up, feeling grateful and giddy with excitement at your new toy to experiment with. 

Within a few weekends, Joel had finished his new project, always seeming to need one to have around the house, wiping the sweat off his forehead and gleaming with pride at it as he showed you the final product. You’d practically jumped for joy but settled on flinging yourself into his arms to show your appreciation. When that had turned into him fucking you on top of the kitchen counter moments later after he went inside to fetch a cold drink, you hadn’t minded one bit.

“I couldn’t wait,” you say with a grin. When Joel nuzzles your neck again you start to lose your train of thought. His lips press a gentle kiss right on your pulse point, and you sigh into it. “T-trying out margherita today,” you manage to squeak out.

“Hmm,” Joel says, seemingly contemplating the flavor choice in between latching his lips on your neck and sucking, marking you over and over. You’re sure the ones from mere days ago haven’t faded all the way, a smattering of them going right down to your tits, but Joel always needs a fresh mark on you as soon as they start to fade, a way for you to always remember you’re his. He grinds his hard length into your back on the next touch of his lips, and you arch into it a little, your cunt starting to ache more needily for him. 

“F-fresh basil… from the… gar-” you gasp as he pulls you completely flush against his cock, letting out a little, devious laugh.

“Sounds fuckin’ delicious, baby,” he replies. His fingers reach down and toy with the front hem of your dress, delicately sliding his calloused fingers up your thighs, bunching the fabric as he goes. The warmth of his hands on your bare skin blazes a trail up to the apex of your thighs, finally cupping a hand around your warm heat. You instinctively grind into the heel of his hand, and can practically feel Joel smirking behind you. His fingers brush the outside of your panties, starting to rub circles on the wet fabric. He lets out a low growl, deep and needy in the back of his throat feeling the evidence of how much you’d anticipated him coming home. 

“So wet for me already, huh, doll? Couldn’t wait f’me to get home ‘n take care of ya, I bet,” Joel taunts in your ear before sucking on the lobe, and you’ve gone breathless now, nodding your head. His fingers tease the edge of your panties again, finally slipping one underneath the fabric, feeling the obscenity of your wetness directly, and he lets out an impressed tut, sucking in air between his teeth. You nearly moan out at the smallest touch he’s giving you, the way his rough, worn fingers gently brush over your clit for just a split second. 

“She’s so needy, ain’t she?” Joel coos in your ear, swiping a finger to your entrance and back to your clit. You can feel how slickness quickly gathers on Joel’s digits as he teases you. You squeeze your eyes shut and lean back into him, letting your head drop to his shoulder as pleasure wracks your body already.

“Mhm… needs you,” you murmur, turning your head towards his where he meets your lips, continuing steady strokes on your aching bundle of nerves. His lips are softer than you’d think, looking at the hardened grump behind them, but like so many parts of Joel, they are only soft for you.

“Needy, needy girl… good thing I’ve been thinkin’ about gettin’ my cock in that little cunt of yours all day.”

“A-all day?” you say with a little smirk, rutting your ass back into his throbbing length, and Joel groans with the friction.

“Second I pulled out of it this mornin’,” he replies, low voice drumming against your skin, and you shudder, desperate for what you know he’s about to do.

Another routine of yours - Joel comes home from work, and more days than not, he fucks you. And you enjoy every second of it, basking in the attention and his cock filling you up in the way nobody and nothing else can. You crave him night and day, never having gotten your fill, wondering if you ever could. His hunger for you in return only fuels the fire, a vicious circle the two of you seem to have no intention of breaking.

Your weakness lies completely in the man standing behind you, burying his fingers in between your legs and making you moan out wildly before he’s even had his way with you.

“Fuck, gotta get this cock in you, baby, split you open f’me so good, fuck you stupid,” Joel grunts suddenly, interrupting your swirling thoughts, withdrawing his fingers in a flash and leaving you whimpering. It’s not fair, the way he affects you. 

Nobody should have this power over you, but the minute you’d met Joel, you couldn’t deny the way he’d made you feel. Masculine and warm, rough hands and broad shoulders that you’d clung to that same night you’d met him in a bar, fucking mere hours later in the bathroom. Even in your drunken haze you’d submitted to him fully, Joel having no problem ordering and throwing you around the bathroom like you were just a toy to play with, his little doll. You’d found that you could never look back after that night, the safety he represented to you, the adoration he showered you with, the way he fucked you like it was his last time every time. When Joel saw how willing you were to be his in the way he craved from a woman, there was no stopping the insatiable beast he became, hellbent on never letting another man feel your touch again. Joel promised you a good life, an amazing life, even, and in the last few years, he had more than delivered for you. 

“Hush now, you’ll have what you want in a second,” he says, running a quick stroke of his fingers through your hair, giving it a tug. On principle, you let out a little mewl at the sensation, too many instances of your hair being tugged and pulled with Joel involved to not recall those memories with the pain of it. You hear the jangle of his belt as he frees himself from his jeans, the familiar sound of Joel’s thick, heavy cock slapping against his hand as he fists it. You’re already cock drunk without having seen the damn thing yet, and it’s nearly laughable how pliable you are when Joel’s involved. It’s always been that way - you’ve been happy to oblige his every desire, no matter when, where, how he wanted it, or the frequency. You were his to use, to pleasure, to fuck senseless, and you got off on the way all of it steadily built his need for you just as much as it did with your need for him.

“Please…” you whine, trying to slip out of his grasp and start for the sliding glass door to the house, making the assumption that he’d be taking you inside at any moment to take what he needed from you. 

Joel immediately tightens his hold on you, a dark tut in your ear that goes straight to your clit.

“Not so fast, little doll,” he croons, hand grabbing your cunt through your dress again to hold you to him. “Right here,” he adds on, turning your body towards the outdoor dining table in the backyard. 

“J-Joel… right here?” you question, knowing you shouldn’t. It won’t matter anyways. “The… t-the neighbors…” you whimper quietly as Joel crowds you against the table, tearing your dress up over your ass, revealing your lacy little thong to him. He groans at the sight of your bare ass ready for him to claim before roughly shimmying your underwear halfway down your thighs. He places a rough hand on your back, pressing you down into the table so that you’re completely bent over, your hands splaying out into the wood to support yourself. 

“Let them see…” Joel says quietly, a heady murmur as he slips his cock between your thighs and notches himself at your weeping entrance. “Let them see how much I love fuckin’ my wife.” He pushes in on the last sentence, and you gasp at the stretch and burn of his girth. Your vision goes white for a moment with the mix of pure pain and pleasure, and your mouth hangs open, panting in delight as he fills you inch by inch. 

“Mmm… such a sweet little pussy, honey…” Joel says quietly once he’s seated fully inside of you. He’s just as lost in the bliss of it as you are. “Know I’d fuckin’ live right here if I could.”

You give him a little moan of satisfaction, wiggling your hips to give yourself any sensation of movement from his cock. He places his hands on either side of your hips, squeezing his grip tightly enough to bruise before starting to thrust himself into you. You cry out in a yelp, the noise passing though your lips before you can even control it. 

“Yeah…” you whimper, face pressed against the table, trying to peek up as Joel looms above you, like some higher being that has the power to decide your fate, to decide the pleasure or pain you’ll have to endure in this moment. And truthfully, you do worship him. The way he moves inside of you, makes you crumble underneath even the lightest of his touches. The way he spoils you in every regard - you’ve never wanted for a single thing for as long as you’ve been Joel’s, him vowing to take care of everything you ever need, and in return, you take care of everything he needs. 

To some, it might seem like there’s a lack of balance in the way you do things, but fuck do you love it, you think as you desperately cling onto the table, manicured nails digging into the wood as Joel’s cock rams back into you, pressing so deep inside of you that you see stars.

You let out a low, strangled sound, whining as Joel begins to press against your cervix, the front of your thighs bumping into the table with every new thrust from him. He grunts with the exertion, fucking into you hard, taking what he wants, leaving you both breathless with the need for more of each other. You let Joel take and take and take because of how much he gives in return - while he loves to use you, he always makes sure you get every bit of pleasure you deserve for being so good to him.

When you continuously moan louder as Joel fucks you towards your high, you glance around, the small sliver of your brain that’s still rational worried about you two getting caught by your neighbors. The thought is equally mortifying as it is thrilling, but you decide you’d rather not deal with the embarrassment today if you can help it.

“Still worried about the neighbors, hm, pretty girl? I’ve got an idea,” Joel says, responding to your sudden nervousness. Before you can even answer, his hands are wrapping around your shoulders, urging you up from the table. You follow along, breathless and dazed, letting him move you as he wishes, too deliriously starry eyed for him to care about anything else other than what Joel is gearing up to do to you next.

He accidentally slides out with the movement of your body, and immediately he’s grasping at your hips, practically clawing his way back to you as he pulls you tight to his body again. His throbbing, dripping cock slaps periodically against your ass as he shoves you forward, pushing your body towards the house. 

“Here,” he grits out, suddenly crowding your body from behind to press you against the sliding glass door. “That better?”

“I- yes,” you say, eyes wide from the way you’d been roughly handled by him the last few moments. Your cunt aches almost painfully, having been getting so close to your climax only to have it ripped away suddenly when Joel decided to move you.

“Good,” he snips quietly. “Couldn’t stand to keep this cock out of you much longer’n this.”

With his words he brings his lips to the back of your neck again, just his heavy breathing fanning across the skin there, making you wild as he repositions himself and nudges your legs apart with his knee. You feel the length of him tease between your legs, sliding up to your entrance again. He groans loudly, letting you know how badly he wants you, so you try to pop your hips up at just the right angle you know he’s looking for. 

He slides in effortlessly and with a renewed vigor, hips snapping into you, pressing you further into the sliding glass door with neither of you seeming to be worried about the way it’s suddenly shaking on the frame. It’s completely lewd, the way you imagine the two of you - your entire body against glass, tits being pressed out the top of your dress and bouncing, palms spread against the smooth surface, nails clawing and unable to grasp at anything.

Your body is shaking in his hold now, Joel’s cock hitting inside of you in all the right places. You can feel yourself tensing, almost like every cell is going taut, your core pooling heat deep inside of you with molten pleasure from Joel hitting the spongy bit inside of you. 

“Fuck, love it when you sound like that f’me, doll,” Joel punches out as he hears your moans becoming louder and more desperate the longer he continues to thrust against your g-spot. You can’t respond, only continue your lustful noises with a renewed vigor as you try to bounce your hips back into his thrusts, getting him deeper than what’s even possible, the length of him already burying up to the hilt each time he drives himself into you.

“Know you wanna come for me, baby,” he says right in your ear, voice hoarse with need, and you whimper in response as his hand snakes around your hips and in between your legs, circling a gentle pressure on your clit. 

You feel your hold on reality completely break, your eyes squeezing shut as you melt into the way your entire body is tingling with pleasure now, waves of it turning into spasms as you go practically limp with shaky knees. Joel’s hands hold you in place, his warm strength keeping you upright as you push down onto his cock, riding out your climax and screaming for him. 

When your movements start to slow and your body relaxes, Joel thrusts into you even harder, loving the way you’re so compliant and soft after climaxing, letting him move in you however he needs as you ride out the sensitive aftershocks with a few quiet yelps.

“This little pussy is all mine, y’know that, right?” Joel reminds you through clenched teeth, giving your ass a firm slap. You nod vigorously, eyes still half lidded and mind scrambled from the way he’d shattered you mere moments ago.

“Y-yes, Joel,” you say when he slaps your ass again, demanding an answer. Your breathy answer is enough to get him to his own climax, and he surprises you by pulling out suddenly, leaving your body lurching back into nothing, missing the fullness of him already. Before you can protest, say anything, Joel’s hands grip your shoulders and spin you around and push down, forcing you onto your knees in one fluid, swift motion. You watch, wide eyed, as he fists his throbbing cock, shiny and coated in your own slick arousal as he spreads it along his shaft in jerking motions.

“Be a good girl and open up,” he commands, and you submit to the words immediately, mouth hanging open, even sticking your tongue out for good measure. Joel smirks at that before giving himself another swift tug, and you watch in renewed wonder as he begins to spill himself all over your face, ropes of cum hitting your skin. You taste him on your tongue immediately, savoring it. Your eyes are glued up on Joel’s face, watching his glazed gaze taking in the scene below him as he groans in pleasure, trying not to tilt his head back and get lost in the moment so he doesn’t miss a beat of your beautiful surrender to him.

“Fuck,” he mutters as he watches the last bits of his release hit your tongue. “Don’t you dare swallow that, yet, doll,” he adds on quickly, eyes fluttering for a moment before he tucks himself back into his slacks. He continues to tower over you for a prolonged few seconds, looking down in satisfaction at the image of your glowing, angelic face coated in something so sinful, the milky substance starting to drip down your face, your tongue trembling slightly with the need to swallow.

“Hold still,” he says needlessly since as the words come out of his mouth he grabs your chin, tilting your head upwards and gathering spit, letting a long, tortuously slow drip of it fall into your open mouth. It lands on your tongue, combining with his cum and Joel smirks again, releasing your chin.

“Swallow, my little doll,” he says, voice starting to go soft, an indication that he’s feeling satisfied and finished with his enjoyment of you. You close your mouth, smile, and swallow obviously for him, licking your lips for good measure. 

Joel holds out a hand, helping you stand, your legs buckling slightly as you try to get your bearings. He carefully smooths your disheveled dress, flattening the bottom half and tugging the neckline back into place before fixing the straps to sit perfectly square on your shoulders, eyes roaming over quickly to examine his work with pride. His hands then move to your hair, brushing his fingers gently to put it back in its place, leaving every part of you like none of this had just happened besides your face, still dripping with his spill. Your smile widens, seeing him watch a particularly large spot of it sliding down your cheek. You see his composure fail for a moment before he strokes your cheek gently, avoiding any of the mess there, giving you soft, affectionate eyes.

“Good girl,” he says quietly, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Pizza’s probably ready,” he adds on, the casual tone taking you aback for only a moment before you blink yourself back to reality and nod dutifully.

“Of course,” you say, a genuine smile plastered on your face as you look at your handsome husband, admiring the way he’s looking at you with stars dancing across his eyes, the deepest love for you tucked away in his deep brown irises.

“After you get that, go clean yourself up, doll,” he says, and you nod again, the smile not leaving your face. You see out of the corner of your eye Joel settle onto one of the chairs at your outdoor table, leaning back casually as if he hadn’t just had you bent over that exact table, fucking you for the entire neighborhood to possibly see and hear.

You gather everything you need, serving utensils, plates, and two cold beers before bringing it to the table along with the pizza and a freshly tossed salad you’d made to accompany it. Each time you drop something off, the smirk on Joel’s face grows, watching the way you work with the evidence of his obsession with you still lingering on your flushed cheeks.

Once the table is set and your face cleaned off, you join Joel outside to enjoy the beautiful spring evening, and see he’s already served you two generous slices of the margherita pizza. 

He reaches a hand onto the table, taking yours delicately into his palm, dwarfing it with the size of his thick fingers as he absentmindedly runs his thumb along your knuckles, stopping to play with the large, gorgeous diamond on your ring finger. Another reminder to him that he has you all to himself, his pretty little wife.

“Thanks for dinner, baby” he says, eyes locked on yours as he uses a free hand to pick up the pizza and take a large bite, letting out a little noise in satisfaction at the flavor.

“Anytime.” You smile, genuine and tranquil, a fresh appreciation and love for the life you’ve found yourself so grateful to be living.

tysm to @jupiter-soups @huffle-punk @rensraptor for so much help with ideas and writing this fic! love u guys x

[hajimeseyo]

“Tell me something about yourself that not many people know.”

“What's this?” he asks, voice laced with amusement.

“Just answer me, ‘tsuya.” you grumble, head lolling over the side of the bed you're currently spread out on, peering at his upside down figure. “I'm bored.”

Mitsuya hums thoughtfully, pen tapping against the table absentmindedly. Both your homeworks lay abandoned on his table, you having already given up a long time ago and pestering him to do the same, despite his best efforts to stay focused and finish them.

“I have a dragon tattoo on the side of my head.” he says casually.

“WHAT?????” you leap up from your spread-eagle position to gape at him properly. His lips curl into an impish grin at your reaction, the sight sending butterflies flying through your stomach. You swat them away in favour of focusing on the more pressing matter at hand. 

“Yeah.” His hand comes up to tap at the right side of his head. “Right here.”

You scramble off the bed, nearly tripping over yourself as you rush to his side. “Whaaat the fuck. You're the last person I'd expect to ever have a tattoo.” you say as you pull up your chair next to him, plopping down on it.

He huffs in amusement. “I am in a gang, y'know.” 

“I know, but you're like, more well behaved compared to them.” You pause, peering at his face suspiciously. “...right?”

A mischievous smile is all you get in response.

Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention back to the side of his head, peering closely at the short lilac hair, trying to catch a glimpse of the tattoo. You can't see anything, though, due to all the hair fully covering it.

“Can I…?” you raise your hand hesitantly. He nods, grabbing your wrist and bringing it to where the tattoo supposedly lies, the warm touch sending sparks flying through your skin.

Carefully, your fingers gently part his hair to reveal the scalp below. The slight shiver as your fingers make contact with his head doesn't go unnoticed by you, although none of you say a word.

And there, under the lilac strands, you catch glimpses of furling strands of black ink, coiling and curling into something resembling—

“A dragon?” you murmur.

Mitsuya hums. “Mhm. I designed it myself. Cool, huh?” You can hear the pride in his voice.

You snort, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. “I suppose.” Following the strands of ink, you trace down the side of his scalp, mesmerized by the intricate design. Despite your seemingly unimpressed response, you found the tattoo really beautiful, the art style unique and artistic, the way it curves along the side of Mitsuya's head so naturally you wouldn't be surprised if he said he was born with it. Lost in your concentration, you don't notice Mitsuya's slowly reddening cheeks, closing his eyes as his head subconsciously leans into your gentle touch.

The two of you stay like that for a while, in comfortable silence, him enjoying your ministrations, you too absorbed in admiring every detail of the tattoo to notice. 

Until you trace the final curl of the dragon's tail, the trail ending making you snap out of whatever trance you were in, face immediately flushing a deep red as you realized you probably spent way more time touching him than you should've. Your hand instantly jolts back from his head as if it touched hot iron. At the loss of your touch, Mitsuya's eyes slowly fluttered open, gazing lazily at you, the sight once again sending some weird, hot feeling shooting through you. Damn this man and his stupidly pretty face.

You clear your throat, trying to act natural. “Why have a tattoo when you can't even see it under all that hair, though?” 

That question catches him off guard, and he barks out a laugh. “There's a funny story behind it, actually.”

He goes on to tell you the story of how he got the tattoo, from meeting this boy called Draken, to playing games at the brothel, to deciding to become a delinquent and accidentally matching tattoos with Draken. Your jaw dropped more and more as the story progressed, mostly from how unexpected and wild the entire thing was.

“Damn.” you laugh when he finishes. “And here I thought you were this good, well-behaved child who got roped into the gang business by their friends. I mean, abandoning your sisters to graffiti a wall?” you shake your head in mock disapproval. “What a bad child you are.” 

His lips stretch into a sly grin, something dangerous glinting in his eyes. “Oh? Really, [name], you should've known by now.”

He leans forward until his lips are right by your ear, voice coming out in a teasing whisper.

“I can get quite naughty sometimes.” 

...

You're quite certain your face is in flames. 

You sit there, short-circuiting, as Mitsuya leans back into his chair, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Fumbling, you glance around desperately from something that will save you, and your eyes land on the abandoned exercise books on the table, the whole reason you were at Mitsuya's house in the first place. 

“Oh! Would you look at that! Our homework! That we still have to finish!” You pull your chair back to the other side of the table hurriedly and bury your face in the books, your homework suddenly being the most interesting thing in the world. You hear him chuckle, but he doesn't say anything, picking up his pen and continuing with his work. Your heart finally stops racing, and you think that you're safe until—

“[name]?”

“Hm?”

“I enjoyed that very much. Feel free to do it again if you want~”

“...”

This boy is going to be the death of you.

(part 2 here!)

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #1: DYAD

(also on spotify!)

Hello everyone!! It's been a couple weeks and change since Constant Companions, my newest album, was released unto the world, and I've been genuinely blown away by the response. Genuinely, thank you to everyone who's been streaming, commenting, making mashups, changing their pfps and usernames - it means the world to me!

I wanted to give some of that love back with something people have been asking me a lot about - and, admittedly, something I love doing. Song explanations! Deep dives! Dropping the lore! Welcome... to the Constant Companions Closeups...

For the next eleven days, I'll be going into each track one by one and babbling about the process, inspiration, details, feelings, and thoughts behind each one! We're getting sappy. We're bearing our hearts. We're telling unfunny jokes. And we're starting with track one - DYAD (featuring unit.0)!

---

Naturally, since this is the first track, it also serves as a great point to talk about my intention with this album as a whole!

I'll elaborate more on this with future tracks, but to me, there are really two main things that define the sonic progression of this album versus my previous work - guitars and vocal synths. Obviously, these things have been present in my work since I first started calling myself Jamie Paige, but Constant Companions is intended to be my overwrought, sappy confession of love to these two things that time and time again have made me simply want to make music. I love rock and I love Hatsune Miku dammit!!!

I had originally written this song in February of 2023 for a game-jam-esque online festival hosted by my friend Loni called HAPPY PARTY TRI, and at that time, I had found myself at a major crossroads. I had put out People Posture Play Pretend and :women_wrestling: the previous year, and while the response was nice, I was feeling listless and lost.

I love singing. I like my voice well enough. I certainly love writing music with lyrics!! But... there was something uniquely electrifying about using vocal synths. Amidst a lot of insecurity and emotional turmoil surrounding the process of making art and putting myself out into the world, it was one of the few things that just made everything feel right. Suddenly, I was making the same kind of music that had touched my heart so many times over.

Would it alienate people, though? Would I lose longtime listeners? Yes, that weighed on my mind more than I'd like to admit, but even more than that... I was worried I'd lose some part of myself, as silly as it sounds. Maybe what I thought was a bridge would become a barrier, and the messages I wanted to send across the gap would never find their way.

Ultimately, I felt that Dyad was the only kind of opener I could've possibly given this album, and a perfect fit for the album's motif. A dialogue between myself, stricken with loneliness and a lack of inertia running in circles, and that synthesized voice (ANRI Arcane my darling), grabbing the outstretched hand and asking a question I already know the answer to -

"Baby, do you know what you wanna hear?"

Yes, it's a love song, but it's not just for a person - it's a love song for the creative impulse, and for the places I wanted it to take me.

im resisting the urge to be jokingly dismissive of myself to diffuse tension but i still need to signal that the emotionally bare part of this is over so pretend im doing a funny little dance Anyways let's talk more technical stuff

---

Like many of my songs, Dyad came together from a patchwork of different snippets and ideas I had laying around. The back half of the chorus - "dream together, we can dream together" - originally came from this idea I had jotted down something like 9 months prior, but ended up being a perfect fit for Dyad in basically every way. The verse snippet that I'd written to go with it got reused for a later song on Constant Companions as well! (I say without naming it, as if it isn't literally lifted wholesale from this demo and thus incredibly obvious)

I wasn't originally planning on brazenly quoting the bridge of a Tally Hall song when I set out to write this song, but while toying around with a bridge idea involving a shortened version of the pre-chorus melody, I realized I had inadvertently copied it anyways. I was going to scrap it... but at the request of my dear friend and certified Tally Hall lover Marcy Nabors, I made it an explicit reference. Which I'm fine with, personally! The first CD I ever owned was a copy of Marvin's Marvelous Mechanical Museum my sister bought me all the way back in 2006 - You can pry that sentimental attachment from my cold, dead hands, TikTok kiddies.

Lastly - not really behind the scenes so much as just a shoutout - thank you to unit.0 for the lovely lead guitar work on this song!! He's been a beloved collaborator of mine for many, many years now, and one of the people who ultimately convinced me this direction was the right one to go in, so it means a lot to share this song with him. Go listen to his music!!! Now!!!!!!

That's about it for this song! Not to sound like a fucking YouTuber, but genuinely, if there are any details you'd like to hear more about, let me know and I might made a bonus post at the end of all this. Otherwise, thank you for listening! Tomorrow: Not Quite There, featuring telebasher!

❤️💚

[thewertsearch]

So pacified, he listened to what I had to say, a8out my recent travails with the law, and Pyralspite, and what I'd come for in truth - the treasure he'd 8een keeping safe for me.

There's the fucker.

I cradled the oracle in my synthetic hand, as if appraising 8y w8 the mystic qualities it still concealed. With my vision 8fold seared away, I was as 8lind to its secrets as the old Doctor was to its present wherea8outs. I'd learned to keep it cloaked from the awareness of the man who once called me his protege, a 8ackhanded term of endearment from a smug manipul8or. Loc8ing his so called dark pockets was the only gam8it I had in countering his milktongued dou8lespeak.

Milktounged is such a great descriptor for Scratch's bullshit. I'm willing to bet that the Expatriate came up with that one.

I wonder what Scratch's plan was for Mindfang? Perhaps she was just another vector for manipulating Vriska - a particularly effective one, too, since she's serve as a mouthpiece her descendant would naturally trust.

The expatri8 for indiscerni8le reasons seemed naturally surrounded 8y such a void in the Doctor's awareness, and so was uniquely fit to inherit the or8. The Doctor could not see his treasure, nor I into it.

It's been implied a couple of times that the ancestors have access to Aspect powers. The Expatriate appears to have some sort of passive Void ability, and Mindfang's (presumably) effective use of the Fluorite Octet suggests that she, too, can manipulate luck. She also referred to Redglare as a 'true seer' in her journals, implying that that each Guardian might also share their offspring's Class.

This is a pretty interesting idea. The Guardians are children of Sburb, same as the Players, so there's nothing really stopping them from having pseudo-Player status themselves. They don't seem to have Dream Selves, but it's not out of the question that they could even ascend to God Tier, if they died on a Quest Slab.

It also means that the human Guardians probably had powers, too. Could their advanced knowledge of Sburb be derived from Mom Lalonde's status as a pseudo-Seer?

I guessed exploiting some technological means of gazing through its surface may have 8een simple enough, 8ut I hesit8ed. Every expedient granted 8y its counsel, though never instantly, came at a price. Knowing his n8ture, I'm surprised I only now recognize it as yet another instrument of his spurious 8enevolence, dangerous 8y way of selective divulgence. The sense of infalli8ility his oracle 8rought me was superficial, and in hindsight weakened my readiness.

Unsurprisingly, the cueball's answers have the same asterisk attached to them as Scratch himself. It doesn't lie, but you'd be a fool to think that means it can't manipulate you. Like all of Scratch's games, it's rigged as hell; you can't win, and you probably shouldn't even try.

…mind you, there might be a way to keep its answers unambiguous. If you restricted your queries to yes/no questions, then it couldn't phrase its responses to give Scratch an advantage.

At the same time, though, there's nothing forcing it to answer a given query with a single word. It'd probably just insist on answering in full sentences.

The gr8est mistake I have ever made was asking the or8 when I would die. 8ut as I revisited the prophecy surrounding this unfortun8 query, something struck me. I thought of the man I would have as a m8sprit centuries from now, who was said to command an army of 8easts. The one it called the summoner.

Mindfang dated Primordial Tavros?

...that poor bastard.

[lumsel]

Basement Syndrome

Why do first levels in roguelikes suck so bad?

Consider it. You're playing your favourite roguelike, starting up a new run, but before you get to the fun part you have to slog through that part. You know, the boring slog at the start of every playthrough that you gotta suffer through before you hit the fun part. The Mines in Spelunky, the Desert in Nuclear Throne, the Basement in Binding of Isaac, if they've all got one thing in common it's that you just can't wait to get out of them. What gives? This is Basement Syndrome: the tendency in roguelikes for the start of the run to just broadly suck ass.

There's two big reasons Basement Syndrome is so pervasive in the genre:

The first is Difficulty. The first level in a roguelike is generally designed to be a new player's introduction to the game. It has to be! It's the first thing you're confronted with when you hit play. So this first level bears the burden of introducing the player to the game's mechanics and expectations in a controlled environment. The designer is understandably reluctant to throw new players in the deep end, so this first level will usually be mechanically less complex so you can come to grips with how everything works before the game starts switching things up on you.

Add on to that how a lot of roguelikes take a kind of arcade approach to progression. You measured your success based on how far you progressed in a run. You'd get good enough to beat level one, but then you get stonewalled by level two. Then when you're good enough to beat level two, you get stonewalled by level three, and so on, until you hone your skills enough to beat the whole damn game. Each level is a new spike in difficulty that you have to conquer to beat the game, and you measure that progress to mastery by your runs reaching further and further into the game

This is pretty standard stuff, it's a difficulty curve, everyone does this. But, of course, in a roguelike... you gotta replay that super simple easiest first level every time you die! This means the first area has to juggle a dual responsibility as a new player's introduction to the game, and the start of every elite player's run. That's not an easy balance to strike-- and most games don't strike it!

The second is Variance. Modern roguelikes use the player's build as a source of variance from run-to-run. As you play through a run, your character will accumulate new items that give them unique attributes which come to define their playstyle in some way. This has become a ubiquitous part of the genre, and it makes sense! It's a great way of keeping the game fresh and interesting as you replay it again and again, by changing the way in which you engage with the same problems the game tosses at you depending on the tools you've been given.

The problem, though, is that if the bonuses that define your build are something that accumulates over the course of the run... then at the start of the run, when you've got the least bonuses, that's where the variance is at its lowest. The first area in a roguelike takes place before your build has taken shape -- if every run begins in the same place and then branches out into something interesting, but the start of the run is happening before that branching has occurred. Which means that the feature that makes roguelikes as replayable as they are -- the variance -- is straight up not present through the first level or longer. It's the same shit every time!

So, alright. Basement Syndrome is basically two problems walking in lockstep. And the bad news is that these can be pretty tough problems to solve. But the good news is, you can stand on the shoulders of giants here, cause these are a known problems. Roguelike devs the world over have concocted solutions for one or both of these. Let's take a look at some of those.

Solution 1 (Difficulty): Just Fuckin Skip That Shit

If the first level sucks so bad, why not just not play it? This is the problem Spelunky set out to answer when it invented the Tunnel Man. Once you've showed true mastery of the first level, you can accumulate resources that allow you to buy skips past those early levels that let you get stuck right in to the good stuff.

This one gets kind of held back by most of the games that implement it implicitly punishing you for using it. Spelunky treats the ironman run as the "true" way to beat the game and you'll be down on items if you skip to the end anyway, and Nuclear Throne has the oasis shortcut but because of how that one scales difficulty you'll be behind on weapons and score for the rest of the run. Maybe Enter the Gungeon was better about this but I did not like that game so I never found out lol. A shame, too, because I really think there's promise here. Just skip the boring bit! It's fine!

Solution 2 (Difficulty): Metadifficulty

Many Roguelikes escalate difficulty by ramping up the challenge with each successive level in a run. But what if there was another way? What if, once you got good enough at level three... level one got harder instead? Enter metadifficulty. This is systems like ascensions in Slay the Spire and Heat in Hades, where beating runs grants you access to new tiers of difficulty that add complications to the entire thing, allowing the devs to scale game difficulty in such a way that the run can START hard and not just GET hard after an indeterminate time.

This can be done wrong, like if you amp up the damage without increasing the complexity of the start, you've potentially made the game more tedious but not more interesting. But it's not too hard to add some modifiers that change up behaviours enough to add interesting wrinkles to the early game. Even something so simple as a time limit can really complicate how you view that first level, pushing things enough to add engagement to even the start of the game.

Solution 3 (Difficulty): Alternate Start

Pretty straightforward one here. Just swap out that shitty first level for an actually good first level. The Repentance expansion of Binding of Isaac lets you switch over to Downpour after playing the first floor of the Basement, and in return you get a free reroll on every item room in the alt path. You could also see Hades II's surface route as a variant of this as well.

I think this is a really promising solution on the difficulty side; it's all the benefits of Just Fuckin Skip That Shit without the sorta cheaty feeling it brings. There are potential issues with actually incentivising the alternate start, though. Why play the harder (but more interesting) start level when you could play the easier (but more boring) start and not have to risk anything? Sometimes you gotta come up with tricky ways to force players into enjoying themselves when they won't do it themselves.

I'd like to see this one explored more. Both the abovementioned games implement alternate starts as part of a whole entire alternate game route, and yeah, not every roguelike is gonna have the resources for that. It'd be neat to see some roguelikes that have this sort of thing but really just for the first level. Who knows? It could work better than you think.

Solution 1 (Variance): Start Bonuses

So if early game variance is such a problem, why not just... add variance to the early game? Every run, at the start of the run, why not give the player some huge big bonus that could help define their run? That'd at least make the start more interesting, right?

It's a good idea that immediately runs into an issue, which is that couldn't you just restart the run over and over until you get the start bonus you want? Cause if players are doing that, that actually totally defeats the purpose -- the run variance you so carefully cultivated is now obliterated by degenerate player strategies! Every run starts the same way again! Fortunately Slay the Spire already figured out how to handle that in a pretty elegant way, which is that the cool start bonuses are only granted if you reached the first boss. This means you can't just hold R until you get a good start, you're forced to at least commit a little to every run if you wanna keep seeing those cool bonuses. Smart!

Solution 2 (Variance): Frontloaded Upgrades

So, run variance in a roguelike is the result of a number of accumulated bonuses, all of which work together to define your run. This is all well and good, but... does it need to work this way? What if the first few upgrades in your run are more consequential than the others, causing your build to rapidly take shape right at the beginning and the rest of the run becomes tuning?

This stroke of genius is exactly how Hades II handles it! You've got five primary slots for upgrades that affect your active abilities and your method of MP gain, and you can only have one upgrade in each slot. These slots rapidly fill up at the start of the run, and the upgrades that hit these slots are far more consequential than most of the passive upgrades that don't touch a slot, so the shape your run will take is rapidly defined nearer to the start of the run and the rest of the run is just tuning (you'll notice Hades 1 attempted a similar system here, but that game beefed on run variance in general so it didn't really land.)

In theory this is vulnerable to the same reroll problem that start bonuses are subject to, with players just resetting after the first 2 upgrades instead of the very start of the run, but both Hades games do their own work to train the player out of getting restart happy by making you forfeit all metaprogression resources if you quit out of a run. You have to either finish the run or die to make it count, and killing yourself can be surprisingly tedious in those games, so... fuck it, why not tough it out. It's surprising how well a little bit of careful incentive engineering can get a person to change play patterns. At least, it worked on me, anyway...

Anyway, that's the rundown. Basement Syndrome is still a pretty pervasive issue in roguelikes -- even the ones I've mentioned above often still have the issue, just to a lesser degree. But still, it's a solvable problem! Lemme know if you think I missed anything, and thanks for reading!

[yok00k]

coming down

pairing: non-idoloc! x idol!jk

genre: angst

“i always want you when i’m coming down”

sypnosis: although you sleep next to jungkook every single night, it feels like you’re million miles away from him.

wordcount: around 1,000

warning: in 1st pov, it’s a little sad (for me), open ended ending, one sided love, allusion of cheating, oc’s world revolves around jk (don’t be like her)(lowkey im her), toxic relationship, lack of communication

author’s note: this did not go as I initially planned help-_- i was gonna make light jealousy oc/jk drabble idk how I ended up with this. i hope yall sob w/ me or lmk ur thoughts

an absolute ideal.

his performance. the concept. the way he sang his new released songs flawlessly. how smooth his dancing movements were. how the stage composition and development were so sumptuous.

and most importantly, how romantic the live performance was, given the fact that there was an actress involved in the show.

calling Jungkook an amazing artist would be an understatement. He’s creative, unique, and original in his masterpieces. Everything he does, no matter what, is just mesmerizing and astounding. He’s indeed a true performer.

Jungkook dedicated several months to work on his solo album. The time and effort he had put to his work is just admirable. On most days, he stays up late, trying to come up with so many possible ideas and options he can add on his album.

and I was there by his side. I chose to be.

I was there, waiting for him to come home every single night, or usually midnight, in our noiseless living room, wrapped with a thick blanket and loneliness. He would arrive home, but as night by night goes, I was accompanied by nothing but solitude. it feels like it’s taking over me.

I was there, in bad days where Jungkook is focusing on the negatives and having doubts in himself. Days where his standards for himself weren’t being met. both of my shoulders were closely next to him if he needed something to lean into. Reminding him that it’s okay and he’s doing wonderful.

I was there, even in times when he didn't want or need me to be there. times where he just wanted to be by his own with no distraction. but here I am, continuously showing him my undying love and support for him.

I chose to stay there. on nights where he stopped saying “i love you” back before going to dreamland. I hugged him closer as I convinced myself to believe that he just didn’t feel like saying those three words at those moment because of all the stress he undergoes through day to day.

I gave all of myself, I’ve done my part as his other half. Just like how Jungkook produces his works, I poured all my love and time to him, leaving not a thing for myself. It sounds foolish, but that’s just how I love

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

we’re both lying on the massive bed, only inches apart from one another’s body yet it feels like he’s millions of miles away from me as I stare at his cold, broad back that’s facing me.

I’ve got to used to this upsetting scenario at this point but that doesn’t mean it hurt less.

The whole bedroom feels chilly. I’m freezing, solely due to the fact that his warm arms weren’t wrapped around me like they used to be. as i’m not hearing his snores, I know that he’s still awake

“Do you still love me?” I manage to ask out loud and clear, immediately regretting the words that came out of my mouth even though it’s simply an inquiry.

a question that’s been going around my head for quite some time now. a question that i’m afraid to know the answer to because his response might be the response my heart doesn’t wish to hear or else it will shatter into millions of pieces.

my hope for an answer rapidly decreased as seconds went by filled with silence. The absence of noise that surrounded me was deafening; abundantly mocked the emotions I was feeling at the moment, screaming at me that my feelings didn't matter.

It's alright.

I did nothing but wipe the single tear that uncontrollably rolled down my cheek.

it’s stupid. I should’ve just kept it to myself. maybe that would be less embarrassing. less problematic. less painful than I was feeling minutes ago.

I turned my back against his as I accepted my defeat. maybe I’m just tired. maybe drifting to sleep will make me feel okay although I know deep inside that I won’t take the pain away. this is not some type of feeling i’m unfamiliar with to begin with.

I shut my eyes, as I try to put myself to sleep. but in that process, i felt his body moving, turning around, and finally snakes his warm arms around me. a pair of arms, the same ones I longed for so many nights.

“____, why would you ask that?” he giggly asked, sounding like he just heard a silly question. as if i was just being clingy and wanted some piece of his attention.

‘because i don’t feel like you love me anymore’

the man waited for a response, waiting to see if I was just fooling around or that was really genuine. the noiselessness, just like all times, answers the question we both interrogate to each other.

the heavy feelings just got worse, if not heavier. even so when he talks more. “i won’t be laying next to you if i wasn’t.” as if that makes me feel better.

indeed, he’s physically here by my side yet distant. Jungkook is so far off that I’ve lost him. numbness was all I felt as I heard his words. I couldn’t be more content now that I have my answers.

his indirect answer to a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question is enough for me to know where we stand.

I can’t help but to turn my body to face him, just to stare at his doe eyes that I easily get lost in due to the fact that they hold thousands of stars, if not a whole world in them.

regretfully, my eyes should’ve just maintained contact with doe-like eyelids. but rather, they drop their focus on the side of his neck, detecting a foreign lipstick shade that he might have forgotten to wipe off. a shade that will be tattooed in my brain and will forever hate.

Inhale. Exhale. I chose to shrug it off, bringing my attention back to his worn out face.

“I love you” truthfully and whole-heartedly confessed to him once more just like I always do. although this was a little bit different because I don’t expect him to say it back anymore.

and with that in mind, this was also the last night that I will to express my love for him.

[diejager]

I have a fucking insane idea based on a DnD thing I saw once lmao. So basically, if someone went through an immense amount of trauma, it could sort of manifest into another being used for self defense. This being was literally only limited by their imagination. It could be a damn house cat or a fucking dragon. It was basically an extension of their body that was a result of a dangerous or traumatic situation. It could help with other tasks as well, but its main purpose is defense. I need to see the men react to this, I’m begging

Monster au. Plz

~🧋

Cw: trauma, inaccurate magic, tell me if I missed any.

They were familiar with all kind of magic. Be it Old Magics and Magiks, enchantments, hexes, curses, dark arts, and everything known to the world, yours was…. peculiar. Quite peculiar for a person without any ties to a magical lineage or prior knowledge of powers. You were just a normal human - as normal as you could be with all your fearlessness towards monsters and hybrids alike - with a few unique perks and qualities, but a human no less. You weren’t any different from your parents, your extended family or any friends. A mortal with soft flesh, resilient and persevering, wild imaginations and genial abilities to adapt and conquer, and yet, were so, so fragile. 

They hadn’t expected it, with Farah - the only witch they personally knew - tied to Alex by the hip and always on the move, their repertoire of magical knowledge was lacking. So, there was a mass of confusion between them, one that made understanding your strange ability difficult, but not impossible. They had Laswell’s help to sift through all existing records, some confidential, hidden under red tapes and confidentiality regulations, and others public, open to any curious eyes and prying noses. 

The black Maine Coon that seemed to follow you, her lumbering figure and elegantly, curled fur that stood out among patches of grey and military green and browns of the base brought many questions, but all shrugged away at the mere sight of those piercing green eyes, vibrant lime that seemed to glow in darkness. She could light up the room with a single glance. It was as odd as it was menacing, and she was fiercely protective of you, shadowing your steps, curling her tail around your leg, laying on your lap when you sat and glaring at anyone who tried to approach you. 

A spirit animal someone had commented, a guardian in the shape of a cat another had hushed. She was all speculations and would stay that way until someone found out more about your Maine Coon, or if someone grew a pair and actually asked you rather than treating it like a secret mission conducted behind your back. A mystery to resolve, a like game they thought it be amusing to play until you found them out or someone gave up after grueling weeks of hitting a brocade —a dead end. 

It was fun and all, at least while it lasted. They felt like they were so close to figuring it out by themselves - pride and ego, you’d cackle. You’d have a field day laughing at them for them, then praise them for holding out so long - and Soap went out and begged for an answer. 

“I was wondering when one of you would crack,” you smiled, running your fingers through her fur, brushing away knots and tangles, “Took you longer than I expected.”

You had known of their investigation, but never spoke up. It riled them up, a thrill at finally being given the knowledge they’re hungered for, an adrenaline that pumped from their hearts to know the answer. And you stalled, teasing them with the pretty curl of your lips, taking all the time you needed to have them squirm in their seats and hang at every word that fell from your mouth.

“She’s a… trauma response, of some kind. I don’t really know how or why, but she just appeared one day while I was recovering. I was confused,” you laughed, nuzzling her scruff when she sat up to lick your chin, “Really confused. But I did some tests, experiments out of sheer boredom and discovered she came from my mind- or a product of it.”

“Your mind..?”

“You know humans have vivid imaginations, as physically unfortunate we are, our minds are a… strange thing, and she came right out of it.”

“So she could be… anything?”

You threw your head back, pulling her up in your arms as if she was the lightest kitten ever, your smile so wide it was infectiously making them smile.

“Anything that my mind can conjure up.”

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce @sobbingnshtting

[zutarasbuff]

I watched the Netflix adaptation of ATLA today and being a hardcore fan of the OG series who knows every nook and cranny of the ATLA world, here’s my unbiased and truly honest review (It contains both the negatives and positives of the series, so dear reader please enter to read at your own risk).

Firstly, let’s talk about the wonderful additions to the already magical world of ATLA.

1. The depth of the genocide

Well, I always wanted to know how the air nomads were suddenly wiped out and how it would have been for them? Why didn’t they resist? I got my answers in the first episode where we explore how the unhinged power of the comet was “actually” used to create a genocide on a massive level. Before that, I had only heard about it in the OG series. Those few scenes were so powerful that they had left me sobbing uncontrollably and Gyatso’s concern regarding Aang had me bawling.

2. Suki’s Characterization

In the OG series, we do find our Suki the fiercest warrior, but here in the live action, she’s an absolute goddess. She is perfect in every sense. She understands the responsibilities she has being a non-bender and is fearless. Her character is what I believe to be was the strongest one of all.

3. Graphics & Music

We never talk about a film by M.Night (that didn’t happen), but this one is really a visual treat for you can readily set yourself up for some mind-blowing bending scenes, plus the fight scenes are quite impressive. It seems that the VFX team had really done their homework this time. Plus, both Momo and Appa are so freaking cute. I loved the fluffy Appa. Good work over there. The revival of the OG theme is also a highlight plus the sun warriors’ chanting in the end is given a new but intriguing twist. The background music especially in scenes where Aang unravels his Avatar powers is mystical in every aspect.

4. Life in motion

I don’t know about others, but I have always been a sucker for animation as well as live-action where characters are operating even in the direst of the circumstances. Life is there and even after they know what happened a hundred years ago, they are still trying to believe and regain their past confidence. This is beautifully portrayed and I was very much impressed by the way people are continuing their day-to-day activities even in the middle of a crisis.

Overall, the series serves the purpose of an adaptation carrying its unique colors (at least better than the previous live-action disaster that didn’t happen).

Now let’s move to the bad side, and when I say it’s honestly what I felt, you need to take my word on it being a hardcore Atla fan.

1. Weak writing & lots of exposition

ATLA remains at a 9.2 IMDB rating even after years because of its writing, strong plot, and very few plot holes. This time, the writers are the real amateur ones. Despite adding more to the already flourishing universe of ATLA, sadly, they killed the quest of the viewer to find answers. There is too much exposition. It seems that every character just wants to see the end of the war and keeps on revealing things after things. Plus, some of the OG moments that were the soul of the series are not even included. The way Aang finds Momo and then decides to keep it with him as a last remnant of their bygone air nomad civilization is nowhere to be found. In fact, the replacement of Roku with Kyoshi is the biggest disappointment. I love Kyoshi like no one else but that was unnecessary as per the cycle.

2. Bland acting

Even the worst writing shots can be digested only if the acting appears real good. Sadly, this is another issue that I found with the NETFLIXED version. No doubt the characters must have done a lot of hard work for this, yet, they lack the expressive power. Gordon as Aang is super cute but the goofiness is not even there. Katara seems a nerd who doesn’t like to talk much even when it’s necessary and Sokka’s jokes are forced. Meanwhile, Dallas seems to save the day at one point, but again his over-the-top angry young man attitude ruins it for me. Maybe the actors will learn from the criticism in the upcoming season (if Netflix plans to go with it).

3. Major changes

Yes, it’s okay to change the narrative while you are working on an adaptation, but targeting the loyal viewers who are OG fans of ATLA means that you have to be very careful when you are trying to implement your changes in scenes that are the real soul of the OG. You can’t change the Omashu myth as if it’s nothing when we actually see even the cute animated version of the folklore. You cannot portray Roku more as a perpetrator of the genocide and Bumi as the evil king when in truth he’s the mad king who’s known for his genius ways of teaching. I hated that. Plus, reducing Zhao’s authority and taking Uncle Iroh’s sarcastic attitude is just meh. Mai again doesn’t even seem perfect as a cast. Jet is good as far as the aesthetics are concerned but Jet being in Omashu doesn’t even sit right with me. The amalgamation of multiple storylines creates so much confusion and this persists till the end.

4. Bending at convenience

We all know how Katara’s bending progressed throughout the first season and it’s little effort each day. However, in series, one day she’s unable to bend even a droplet of water and the next day she is capable of producing ice crystals. This was unacceptable for me because I was anticipating her learning strategies. Besides, Aang doesn’t learn much water bending throughout this season and in the end, it’s him being the savior in Avatar state. Thoughtless bending sucks despite the great VFX and that’s one thing at which you can’t convince me otherwise.

5. Forced friendships

We all know how it took some time for Sokka to embrace Aang as a chum. However, here Sokka keeps on calling him “the kid” and remains mostly alienated from Aang. Talking to Katara, then she also seems more interested in helping Avatar fulfill his goal than being with a friend. I hated the scene where Aang comes into the Avatar state and instead of hugging him just like in the OG series, Katara runs along Sokka and keeps on calling his name. How is that going to build any organic friendship? I think the first mistake began right from the very moment when Aang was taken back to Wolf Cove on a boat in his unconscious state. Upon opening his eyes, the first person he finds near him is neither Katara nor Sokka but a tribesman who’s playing guessing games. Writers were really high when they wrote that.

6. Lack of the four nations’ biodiversity

Maybe in live action, it’s difficult to create all the marvels of the four nations when we talk about their natural biodiversity. In the OG series, it is indicated by Aang that even after 112 years, he has still not forgotten the animals that define different regions in the four kingdoms and that’s exactly why he wants to finish those “important tasks” alongside saving the world. His important tasks included keeping a check on the natural biodiversity of the lands and exploring whether the Hundred Years’ War had not damaged the majestic animals. Actually, his first dialogue right after regaining consciousness is to go for an otter penguin’s ride with Katara. When I thought about that I felt that somewhere in Aang’s mind he was always connected to nature and that’s why he wanted to regain that connection by being an avatar. Sadly we never see much of the biodiversity but I hoped that maybe they will.

Also, how come Aang had that silent whistle for one hundred years when in the series he only discovers that accidentally? I missed the OG Yip Yip for our Appa. There are lots and lots of problems with the Netflix version, and no I am not being a nitpicker. I appreciate how the current creators credited the original ones, but now I know why Bryan and Michael bade farewell to this project. On a scale of 10, it’s a 4 for me or 4.5 if I am being too generous.

If I am asked to review the live action in a single line, I would only say this:

“The Netflixed ATLA makes you go back to the OG series and you end up watching the animation to give your mind a much-needed respite from a carefully crafted artistic disaster aimed at the sensationalized generation.”

[ghostofskywalker]

I Love You, But I Love Your Cat More

Natasha Romanoff/Reader

Fictober 2023 Day 25 of 31

Words: 725

Summary: When you have a bad day, there's only one place you would even think about going.

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist

It only took two knocks for her to answer the door, and the minute she opened it, she could tell what you were there for. Today had been the worst day you’ve had in a while, and it truly felt like there was nothing in the entire world that had the capabilities of making you feel better, but there was one thing you wanted to try.

“Bad day?” Natasha asked as she opened the door, and you just nodded in response, sure that your face carried the weight of your exhaustion. “Come in, she’s on the couch.”

Natasha was your best friend in the entire world and you would do anything for her in a moment’s notice, but if she said anything or mentioned how close you were, you would jokingly tell her that your relationship was only as good as it was because of her cat. A beautifully striped gray and brown tabby with green eyes, Fig had the most beautiful purr and the unique ability to make you forget every worry you’ve ever had when she was within three feet of you.

You practically flopped down on the couch, heaving a sigh that must have clearly communicated your worries, because the next thing you knew, Fig was crawling over to you and settling in your lap. Instantly, you could feel some form of peace wash over your brain, and Natasha walked into the room to see you smiling.

She sat down next to you, and you laid your head on her shoulder. After years of friendship the two of you felt completely comfortable around each other, and this was not a new experience for either of you. Truth be told, if given the chance to progress your relationship you would probably take it in a heartbeat (you would never be able to deny the fact that she was incredibly attractive), but right now you were happy with the way that you snuggled on the couch while you gently ran your hands down Fig’s back, listening to the way she purred like some kind of fluffy comfort machine.

“You want to talk to me about your bad day?” she asked quietly, reaching to grab the pale blue blanket that rested on the top of the couch and place it over your laps.

You paused, thinking about her question as Fig got herself comfortable in the blanket, and you smiled at the way her little head popped out but her body stayed exactly where it was before. “Not really,” you said. “It’s just a lot of things that seemed to build up, you know?”

“Yeah, I do,” she said. “And you know that if you ever do decide you want to talk, I’m here for you.” Both of you have said that to each other before, and you never doubted her sincerity. But since the friendship you had built together centered more around physical comfort than long vent sessions (and the fact that you did not want to cry right now), you elected not to go into the finer details of your terrible day.

Pizza was ordered and movies were played, all from the comfort of the couch, and it was hours before you even moved from that spot. You watched as Fig played with a toy mouse on the ground, filled with a kind of sudden energy that you honestly envied a little bit, and you thanked Natasha profusely for everything she did for you.

Halfway through the second movie of the day and right after Fig had hopped up in your lap once more, you could feel your eyes closing. Natasha was right next to you, and you didn’t want to disturb the way she was settled against you, so you just closed your eyes and allowed yourself to drift off right then and there. For a beautifully blissful moment, you completely forgot about what had given you so much pain and stress earlier today, and you allowed yourself to bask in the comfort and serenity that being in this place (and with this company) brought.

You could have sworn you felt a soft kiss on your forehead as you slipped away from the waking world, but it also could have been a perfect dream. Whatever it was though, you didn’t really care, because you were right where you were supposed to be.

- the end -

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[theresattrpgforthat]

THEME: Kaiju Games

@ospreyonthemoon I see your need and I answer! There's a lot of really neat Kaiju games out there.

Kaiju Klash, by NeonRot.

Kaiju Klash is a GM'less rules light game where 2-4 kaiju battle it out in a fight for might to become top dog of the city. In the centre of the city is the Capitol Building, a huge spire that the kaiju scramble up as they slash at each other with tooth and claw.

For Kaiju Klash all you need is a D20, a D6 and a falling block game like Jenga.

Make a Kaiju and battle it out in this Gm-less strategy game. Kaiju Klash includes various Kaiju types with respective skills, and incorporates the city as more than just scenery - it’s a vital battle strategy!

On any given turn, instead of choosing to attack, your Kaiju can grab onto nearby buildings for bonuses that help your next attack. However, you’re in the middle of a fight, so you have to roll randomly for the building that you grab, and the building type will have special details that inform what happens next.

I don't know what the Jenga Tower is used for exactly, but the fact that this game uses one definitely makes it more exciting for me.

Overall, the game gives me King of Tokyo vibes, so if you like smashing through a city in a big ol’ brawl, you might like Kaiju Klash.

Caltrop Kaiju, by Button Kin Games.

A gigantic, rampaging kaiju (giant monster) has shown up in your home town and is destroying everything! You must head out to observe the kaiju to find its weakness, then pass on what you know to the military at their secret base so they can defeat this monster  - all while trying not to get eaten!

This is a solo TTRPG which can be played in ten minutes as a tense, tactical puzzle, or in a couple of hours as a journaling/story game.

This one is for the solo gamers! Caltrop Kaiju is about your tiny little character trying to survive a Kaiju attack. The game comes with a grid for you to print off, with special icons to represent specific buildings in the city. You roll 2d5 to determine where the Kaiju moves on every turn, and you’ll try to move through the city before too much of it becomes damaged for you to move through. Special locations will trigger specific effects when they get destroyed, and if you get too close to the Kaiju, you might get injured - or worse, killed.

However, you need to get close to it in order to save the day, as you’re responsible for learning the Kaiju’s weakness and communicating that weakness to people who can stop the monster. Overall, the game can play pretty quickly if you just focus on dice rolls and moving through the map, but the game also comes with instructions on how to turn the game into a journaling experience, which can draw out the story as you reflect on who your character is, why they’re following the Kaiju, and what the city means to them.

Hyperweapon, by Rookie Jet Studio.

Hyperweapon is a rules-light tabletop RPG that combines the excitement of dart blasters with a vibrant and immersive gaming experience created by you and your friends. Set in a world threatened by colossal Kaiju, players take on the roles of skilled Hunters tasked with defending humanity. These Hunters utilize real world dart blasters as their primary weapons in epic battles against these gigantic foes.

Players will embark on a journey through ancient ruins, navigate diverse landscapes, interact with all kinds of people, and ultimately face off against towering Kaiju threats. The game places a strong emphasis on collaborative storytelling and worldbuilding, allowing both players and the Game Master to contribute to the creation of the game's setting, factions, cultures, and lore.

Hyperweapon is unique in how the core of the game revolves around the guns that your characters are using to bring down gigantic Kaiju. You still roll dice to determine damage, but to see whether you hit, you have to actually shoot a foam dart at a target. On top of combat mechanics there’s also locations that change the battlefield: towns have civilians and infrastructure that are endangered by Kaiju but carry shops that the players can purchase goods at. Ruins are more dangerous to visit, containing booby traps, collapsed areas, and Kaiju - but they also hold information that may be useful.

The linked page in the title also has a link to a free Quickstart, in case you want to try before you buy. If you want a high-energy game with a neat resolution system that gives you an excuse to pull out your Nerf gun collection during game night, then you want Hyperweapon.

Dawn of the Daikaiju, by Pinnacle Entertainment.

The world changed in 1953—a radioactive monster rose from Hudson Bay to terrorize New York. Now these “daikaiju” save the world!

In Dawn of the Daikaiju, players take on the roles of giant monsters called kaiju or daikaiju (the terms are used interchangeably and both mean “giant monster”). Though daikaiju range in origin from oversized insects and dinosaurs to bio-engineered alien weapons, they somehow recognize in each other a single species. Even daikaiju from different worlds work together in packs.

Savage Worlds uses different dice sizes to represent competence, and much of the character creation process uses a point-buy system, with guidance on how many points you can spend on certain things. Characters can take on flaws to give them extra points to spend on bonuses, so there’s a balance of embracing weakness in order to boost your strengths.

Savage Worlds also has both the boon and the flaw in that it’s a system meant to cover a lot of genres. You’ll need the SWADE core rulebook in order to use this supplement, but you can also use that rulebook for many other genres. If you already own the core rulebook or know how to play the game, this is a neat option to change the tone of your current game.

The Kaiju Love You, by InnocentGoblin

Walking through the ruined streets of a massive metropolitan city, each footstep crushing another building, the weight of brick and mortar collapsing underfoot. The military prepares for battle, tanks and helicopters opening fire at the behemoth.

The florists come out to see the commotion only to see a massive foot crash down in front of them, believing their end has come they cover their eyes only to find that they are safe. The Kaiju leans down, gently drops a coin that is tiny in its massive claws, in return it takes a large bouquet. It sniffs the flowers with delight and starts walking back. 

The Kaiju has a date tonight, and it has to be perfect.

A neat twist on the Kaiju genre, this is a game not just about being a Kaiju who is fighting other Kaiju, but also being a Kaiju who is falling in love with the city they are trying to protect. Your character will be balancing between big disastrous fights against other monsters, and finding ways to romance the people of their city. The more people who love you back, the stronger you are in combat; but the more that they adore you, the harder you have to work to maintain that relationship.

Thematically, I think this is a really neat concept. Character creation feels rather simple; you have only 2 stats, which are represented by numbers that are opposite from each-other on a d8. You want to typically roll at or over your personal number, so your Kaiju will probably be better at either fighting or falling in love. Altogether, it’s a really unique take on the genre, and I think that merits checking this game out more than anything else.

Giant of Light, by RudoJudo.

Giant action in the style of Ultraman! Investigate strange goings-on, uncover mysterious aliens and ancient powers, then do battle as either a Giant Hero or Kaiju!

Giant of Light is a TTRPG for 2-6 players that can be single sessions or long campaigns. This is the first edition of the game, which uses custom-built systems to allow play at both human and giant size.  

Giant of Light is designed to replicate Ultraman, so you can play a Kaiju, but you can also play a giant hero. Your characters are meant to be protectors of your city, fighting against other supers-sized threats. Your characters have both civilian and giant forms: as civilians, you’ll be investigating the newest threat as regular civilians, and then transform into Heroes or Kaiju in order to fight your foes on an even playing field.

What’s really interesting to me is that a giant Hero and a Kaiju character are somewhat different mechanically; Heroes have an energy pool that powers elemental abilities, while Kaiju have a health bar and special abilities instead. Heroes typically have more energy to spend and can bounce back, but they need to use their energy to fuel their powers. Kaiju don’t have to spend currency to use their abilities, but their health bar makes them more susceptible to falling in battle.

If you want some more info on how the game works, I reviewed Giant of Light a while back on this very blog.

Kaiju Incorporated, by Evil Hat.

Do you have what it takes to face the hazards of mayhem, destruction, biohazardous waste, human resources, minimal career prospects, and really really big footprints?

Jump into the lives of the workers for the world’s biggest multinational Kaiju-conglomerates! Rebuilding the world following giant monster attacks takes a Kaiju-sized work-force. Do you have what it takes to face the hazards of mayhem, destruction, biohazardous waste, human resources, minimal career prospects, and really really big footprints? Find out in Kaiju Incorporated: The Roleplaying Game!

Kaiju Incorporated is usable for both Fate Core and Fate Accelerated, both of which can be found for free on the Fate SRD website. It comes with suggestions for character options and stunts that are unique to the setting, and incorporates a crew structure that the group is balanced and equipped for taking on a giant monster. There’s also GM advice to help you build a Kaiju attack, and lore to help the GM if they don’t want to build the world from scratch.

Overall, Fate is very accessible since you can access the rules for free, and you can use regular d6’s if you don’t have any Fate dice. It’s a stellar system if you value maximum character flexibility, and enjoy coming up with witty turns of phrase rather regularly. If you want a bit of taste for Kaiju Incorporated specifically, there is a lovely episode of Literal Cat Pod that goes through character creation, in which they build Peter the Kaiju Reader!

Kaiju Generator, by The Bardic Inquiry.

What is a Kaiju? To put it simply, Kaiju refers to a genre of film that originated in Japan that featured giant monsters, but it can also refer to the giant monsters themselves.

The actions of these giant monsters are typically devastating to the planet and pose a global threat. This can range from the intentional destruction of infrastructure or the combat between two giant monsters.

This generator will help you to create a Kaiju that you can use in your roleplaying adventures by utilizing 4 1d66 random tables. Can your players survive an encounter with a gigantic monster?

This isn’t really a game; it’s mostly just a monster generator, but it’s very well designed and the quality of the zine makes me excited to play a Kaiju game. I think you could use this for many of the other games on this list, or use it to add a Kaiju to a game of your choice. There’s a number of roll tables for the type of Kaiju, its special ability, its origin, and its goals. As a bonus, there’s also some guidance on creating plot hooks to get your players interested in the Kaiju plot, and creates stakes that keep them invested.

Honorable Mentions

Liminal Colossus, a supplement for Liminal Horror by Mynar Lenahan.

Hey, So… We Accidentally Turned Steve Into a Kaiju and Now He’s Trying to Eat Cleveland, by lazersarus.

I Was Going To A Picnic, But Then A Kaiju Showed Up!, by BitwiseCoyote.

Twenty, by kumada1.

[shihalyfie]

There's something bugging me since I saw a statement from Producer Shimomura in a Spanish interview being linked to Rui's page (and consequently, the Chosen Child's page) on a wiki about a question which was "Rui is way younger than Maki and Daigo who're the first Chosen. How so?" My assumption of that question was like "the interviewer was assuming things (thanks to the fact now everyone who sees the mentioned Five Previous Chosen from Adv'99 as Maki and Daigo's team thanks to ▽) and is not well aware of the math lore",

But then... Shimomura's answer was like "Oh this is new for me too. Anyway Rui is not exactly a Chosen Child and is more likely a special and unique case" which is basically contradicted by everything 02TB-related as well -- interviews, promotional stuff, etc.

(also the interviewer misquote Rui's statements in-movie, since Rui was not even aware of that term and the ones to claim he was indeed the first there were the 02 kids.)

I've been talking with a friend about this quite recently and i'm confused now... What does that whole question even MEAN what's up with that answer!?

(I hope this is not ▽ negative tho, because i do love Maki-Daigo and i want them to coexist with Rui, i'm trying to make them WORK with the lore... Even by soft-retconning a few details of them orz)

Yeah, so about that...I apologize for the language, but this is one of those rare occasions where you just have to flat-out discard an official statement as bullshit. Shimomura's answer doesn't make sense by any kind of logic whatsoever:

In Adventure continuity, being a "Chosen Child" has an extremely loose definition (which is even acknowledged in Two-and-a-Half Year Break). The only consistent definition of a Chosen, and the one thing that distinguishes cases like Oikawa, Hiroki, and Hikari and Taichi in 1995 from kids who can actually be called Chosen, is that Chosen Children have Digivices (i.e. them being "chosen" is not for anything specific, but being formalized with a Digivice means they now have a responsibility). So by definition, as a kid who was sent a Digimon and a Digivice by some entity, Rui is a Chosen. There's no good argument for him to not be a Chosen.

And of course, even if in the movie they didn't claim that Rui was the first Chosen with that exact wording, basically every bit of promotional and advertising material and member of staff has referred to him as the first Chosen. Like this isn't a "Menoa says that Digimon disappear because they became adults" situation where the advertising would have this "they learn from Menoa that..." indirect tone about it; everyone else has been completely unambiguous about the fact Rui is meant to be taken as the first Chosen. Otherwise, why would they make such a big deal about picking that specific year for Rui to meet Ukkomon, or, hell, what's the point of naming the movie "The Beginning"? That would arguably make advertising the movie as being about the first Chosen into advertising fraud or something.

This is a response to a question asking how Himekawa and Nishijima would be Chosen if Rui was the first Chosen Child, because the contradiction makes this not make sense. But even if you take Shimomura's idea of Rui being the "first one to form a partner relationship with a Digimon", that still doesn't explain anything nor does it resolve the contradiction because Himekawa and Nishijima also clearly had partner relationships with their Digimon in their childhoods too. Like again, it's practically advertising fraud if Rui isn't the first something.

As for why Shimomura would say something like this, the whole "this is new to me too" already hints at the idea she wasn't very well-informed about this issue or series Deepest Lore (in particular, it's pretty likely she didn't know much about tri., given she was two producers ahead of it, and her article series on Digimon Partners suggests she's pretty new to Digimon production as a whole). So I doubt this answer was very well-thought through, especially since everyone else involved in the movie has been pretty clear about being timeline-precise.

The other likely reason is that, when you think about it, this question is inherently an unsolvable trap for a producer like her. If you know the actual Digimon Adventure series production timeline, tri. was unilaterally the one that went off-kilter here; Adventure lore alone dictates that you can't have Chosen before 1995, so there is a correct answer here, and it's simply that tri. messed up and that going back to original Adventure canon for Kizuna and 02TB required throwing a lot of it out. This has generally been the implicit stance that's been taken since even back during Kizuna; most glaringly, tri. was just flat-out omitted in an official timeline, which has to carry some meaning because one does not just accidentally omit a series that was advertised as an Adventure sequel and was basically the core of the franchise for five real-life years.

I don't get the impression it's "tri. isn't canon anymore" as much as it's "we have to ignore so many substantial details of tri. that it may not be correct to call it the same thing anymore," which is consistent with the way "canon" has been loosely treated in the franchise in general. But the thing is, the reason why they're being implicit about it instead of saying it all-out is that, yeah, if they say it in explicit words, that's going to piss off everyone who's going to see that as five years being tossed down the drain, let alone tri. fans who will basically see their favorite being spit on in public. (If you ask me, I don't see "messing up lore points" as having inherent ties to writing quality, and I don't think the creators do either, but lore can be Serious Business to Japanese fans, so officially saying that something violates lore can easily be taken as public shaming; even the few times they've brought up lore contradictions have gotten people mad in some way.)

So while I definitely wish she'd have given an answer that was less obviously bullshit, Shimomura did kind of have to give a bullshit answer in order to not piss someone off, since her job as a producer is less about the creative writing and more about juggling the interests of the movie as a whole. This also wouldn't be our first instance of this kind of situation; it's generally been hinted by staff members that Seki's claim of every version of Akiyama Ryou being the same character was also something she was forced to say in order to not have to say something like "yeah the WonderSwan games aren't canon actually" (which would piss off their fans and Bandai).

[askvectorprime]

Why would anyone come up with the Functionist caste system?

Dear Caste Castigator,

As many ideas do—be they dangerous or benign—it began as innocent curiosity. Every generation inevitably asks itself the same question: “What is my purpose? For what reason was I created? What part do I have to play, in our society?” Our alt-modes are important to us, and throughout history, many have looked to our forms for the answer. “Why do I turn into this, and not that? If I was designed this way, then what for?” And as we find that our own bodies have precious few answers to give us, we turn to those around us: “Why are there more cars than particle accelerators?” At the dawn of our civilisation, even my siblings wondered about these mysteries.

It was during the rise of Nova Prime, in response to the war of the Primes, that these philosophical questions morphed into the ideology of Functionism. Nova Prime decided that the tribes had gone astray—that each had their own divine purpose to fulfill, which they had forsaken. He recruited twelve bots—one from each of the original tribes, excepting Onyx's—who formed a council to comprehend and expand this list of functions, forming the first Grand Cybertronian Taxonomy.

Having arrived at what they believed to be a complete set of categories, they thus set out to fit the planet’s population into these categories. At its basis, this meant that Solus’ followers were assigned to work in the forges; Alpha Trion’s followers to the archives; the Darklanders to the barracks. Few at the time considered this societal structure to be asserted unnaturally. Rather, it was seen as codifying the existing cultures of the tribes, unifying them in its view of Cybertron as a single people collectively working to a divine mandate. The dissenting voice of the Beasts was easy to disregard, given their defeat at the Citadel of Light, and most abandoned Nova’s society to live in the wilderness.

As the Golden Age continued, the Taxonomy grew more and more complicated. The original set of castes was expanded, coinciding with the introduction of ratioism: the more unique your alternate mode, the more important you were believed to be. Castes believed to be “important for society” were heavily subdivided into hyperspecialized classes, allowing the Prime and his followers to be seen as blessed. Meanwhile, laborers remained in larger, more generalized castes, where they were treated as interchangeable.

Naturally there were objections to this—but with the weapons held by the newly-formed military classes, the rebellion was halted in its tracks, and society was forced to accept the caste system wholly, even as it grew ever more byzantine and oppressive.

It may be surprising, given his later reputation, but Nominus rose to become Prime mostly on the back of his promises to loosen the caste system. This was supposedly implemented through the introduction of the intellectual classes—those who were judged to be valuable for their minds, not their alt modes. This was a huge development at the time, bordering on heresy... but in truth, this progress proved to be a fantasy.

[thenightfolknetwork]

I already know how you will answer this, and that's my problem. Of course that means I also have already sent this and will send it and am currently sending this. I will experience time in a different manner compared to most. Where you've experienced your life in a linear fashion I am experiencing all of it at the same time. I will have written this letter to you before you answer it but... Further explanation isn't necessary, but I had written this all out like that so I will have to write it like that.

I am not going to have an issue with having viewed time in this manner. Or the me in times chronologically before this point in "ordinary" perspectives will not. But, "now" I had met someone. And we had liked them. And we will spend their life with them. But I have not yet met them and I have already seen them die. I will not know how to handle the middle section. I have experienced their tragedies and triumphs. I will have experienced their worst and best days. I am having fights with them. I was scared about what will have happened. I want to be with them now, but I am worried my unique timeframe will have caused more strife for them. You will have helped.

(I have apologized for the verb tenses.)

I am going to assume you have already forgiven me for using the present tense in discussing this issue, dear reader. And I am very pleased to hear that my response has helped. It is certainly a nice change, to know in advance that whatever advice I give has already been been well-received.

I see no reason why your temporal perspective should be a sticking point for your future partner. It will bring (does bring, has already brought) a unique set of challenges to the relationship. But every relationship has its own particular challenges, based on the particular combination of the participants' personalities, needs and expectations.

As is so often the case, the key is communication. You need to share your concerns with your partner. This is the person you're going to have shared your life with, after all. In order to share that life, you need to trust them with your most vulnerable feelings, and let them support you.

This conversation is also important given your foreknowledge of their future. Your partner needs to decide what boundaries they want to set around what you share with them and what they prefer not to know. They can only do that if they have a full and fair understanding of the situation.

I know that from your perspective, this has already happened. But I want to say, from my own place on the time-stream, that I am wishing you all the best for the future, and I trust that you and your partner will be able to work together and find a way to live well, in whichever tense you prefer.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

[positivelybeastly]

X-Men #3

Again, late, but who cares? Let's do this.

Fuckin' Vanisher. For the second villain the X-Men ever faced, he really has never been anything more than just a mercenary twit.

That being said, I do appreciate his presence as a furthering of the general vibe of post-Krakoa Earth - mutants are on the run and scrabbling to find stability wherever they can find it, whether that be X-Men, X-Factor or, in Vanisher's case, O*N*E. Some are pickier than others, it would seem.

Ohhhhh my god, Hank. Hank. HANK.

Ahoy hoy? You Alexander Graham Bell Montgomery Burns loving bastard. I love it. Such a goober.

I do also appreciate that Hank's response here works because, even though we can assume that he knows vaguely who these people are - he's probably been reading the X-Men files to catch up on what he's missed, which, depending on when they were last updated, might mean he's reading his own observations on everyone else - he does not know how stubborn those four individuals are.

Half of them, Remy and Jubilee, he's never even met before, which is a wild concept, but true, nonetheless.

I do also like how easily Scott's fallen back into the habit of having Hank as his best friend. Like, I love Scott's friendships with a lot of the X-Men, they're all very unique dynamics, but I've made my case before that Hank was, at least up until 2009, Scott's very best friend, based on how much more free and able to talk about anything Scott was with him, and I feel like it's being born out here.

Even Illyana, who probably became closest to Scott after that point during the revolutionary era, never had the same emotionally intimate conversations that Hank and Scott could have during New or Astonishing X-Men. Among the O5, Scott's detachment and analytical side gelled with Hank's intelligence and social acumen in ways that Warren's easy going confidence and Bobby's immaturity simply couldn't.

Even back in the very original run, Hank is understanding of Scott's psychological make-up in ways that the others aren't, and you can really see that Scott allowed Hank to pull him along to being a little more open and free with his emotions, while being safe in the knowledge that Hank wouldn't try to force him out of his comfort zones. There was absolute, complete trust between them.

Was. And, seemingly, is again!

But yeah, you can really see it on display here. I don't know that Scott would be this willing to be this visibly frustrated and annoyed with Rogue's X-Men with, say, Kwannon or Max, but he can be with Hank, because Hank is gonna roll with him and work with him. I missed this dynamic.

God, this conversation fucks. I'm so glad that Idie is being given the space and the time and the freedom to be fucking furious with Magneto here, because she has every right to be. Her relationship with the X-Men and killing and death is so historically fraught, so full of judgement and learning and ideology, that I completely buy her frustration and fury and lack of patience for Max's hypocrisy.

When the teams for the From the Ashes books were being announced, I remember a lot of people analysing the team make-ups and thinking, ooh, I wonder if they'll touch on this, if they'll touch on that - all the canon deep cuts, all the conversations that should happen, the dynamics that should exist.

And because Jed MacKay is gonna Jed MacKay everywhere, all of those deep cuts and conversations and dynamics are present. It just. Pleases me, immensely. He's even intimated that Hank might have his time displaced memories, which would awesome to explore, since his time in the future with his older self has never really been brought up again, unlike Bobby and Scott. So much potential . . .

Lundqvist having to just sit there and take it is so good. I also appreciate the clarification of a bit of the world state that was going on in Fall of X, even if it is a . . . very disturbing and unfortunately realistic answer. Like, Christ, it doesn't surprise me to hear that the US just let Orchis do what they wanted, but it still just. Woof.

The demonstration of emotional control and the rattling off of the damage done to Scott in the wake of the Hellfire Gala is excellent foreshadowing, too.

I do love how fast and loose psychic connection allows you to be with team scenes in X-books. Literal info-dumps and fast-acting stratagem crafting on the fly - this is absolutely a team that Scott hand picked, because even without him around, they perform like, well.

Magic.

Also loving that Cain and Illyana continue to be bash siblings in the best way possible. Even if they don't get the same character focus that Hank, Scott and Idie have been getting thus far (still too early to say), if they come out of this with a fun dynamic, then I'll call this run a win for them both.

Beautiful.

I do love the continuing interconnectivity between the books - even though they're all separated geographically, people are aware of the changes in status quo, what everyone's doing, what their angles are, and it feels like a cohesive world. This was one of the better parts of Krakoa (and one of the more glaring flaws of X-Force/Wolverine), so I'm glad to see that the writers are clearly talking to each other a lot.

Also, ow, Scott, did you have to do Alex like that?

(I like unpopular X-Men, so, yeah, I have a soft spot for Alex Summers. Enough of a soft spot that I think that Scott is playing dismissive because it means that Alex isn't considered an easily exploited way to get at Scott, which keeps him safe. Scott has to play the lone wolf, no weaknesses, thinking five steps ahead leader man, and that means quite a lot of posturing. Hence the final line.)

Goes hard, tbh. I remember people being worried that Idie was going to get the short end of the stick, going into this series, just because she wasn't front and centre on a lot of the promotional material.

I don't think people have much to be worried about.

And then we come to the stinger, arguably the most interesting part of the issue - and the part that makes the most sense to me.

Now, I hate a certain contingent of Scott Summers fans. I hate the fans that act like he's some kind of alpha chad turbo mutant general boss man who gets all the hot telepaths and he's always right, because the amount of projection involved in that 'look at this introverted guy, he became a total badass that everyone respects' concept of Scott is off the charts, but also because it's just. Less interesting.

Scott Summers has fucking garbage mental health. Always has done. How could he not? His childhood was a literal nightmare. His surviving parent is a deadbeat asshole. He's lived from trauma to trauma since he was 15 years old. He was never taught proper coping techniques, never given the help he needed by Professor Xavier to help him live a life outside of the X-Men - which is why he's always come back to them. Which is why he's always there.

Because he has nowhere else to be. If he isn't an X-Man, he's nothing.

And now? Now, it's gotten to be bad enough that he's having panic/anxiety attacks. Because of course it has! His eyes got sewn shut! His wife got murdered! He's been through it!

This is one of those stingers that catches you off guard for a second, and then anyone with a brain goes, oh yeah, nah, that actually makes total and complete sense, of course Scott Summers would have panic attacks, the guy has some of the most insecure psychology you'll see outside of a Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders!

Absolutely fascinated to see where this goes, honestly. It's not often you get to see a 60 year old comic book character in a new light, and the idea that MacKay is really going to dive into Scott's trauma, into who he is now and who he's always been, into the man that people have made him, is just fascinating.

Issue #2 was good, but it did feel very much like filler. This, though. This is way more in line with issue #1, and it has me genuinely excited to see what comes next.

Just, uh. If we could get more than three panels of Hank, two of which have him unconscious on the floor, that'd be great, thank you. I need new icons, ya dig?

[artemisravencourtney]

Klaroline WIP Wednesday: Mixing all the Colors like we're Making a Monet ch2

Y'all asked for this. Partially inspired by @impossiblekryptonitecolor for piquing my interest in Sentinel AUs. This fic is not a Sentinel AU and you do not need any knowledge of Sentinel AUs to understand it, bit some of the underlying themes are there so if you them you might enjoy this too!

“You know love, I always thought champagne was our thing, but I’m starting to believe it might be clubs.” She doesn’t dare open her eyes, too afraid of what more sensory input would do to her, but the smell of cedar wraps around her like a blanket. She breathes it in, and the pounding of her heart slows enough that she can tune into his. It sounds just like it did in Miami, as unique as any fingerprint, and it’s enough to make her let out a sigh of relief, tension leaving her body like a marionette whose strings have just been cut. “Klaus.” She breathes, grateful for the respite. She feels the heat of him prickling near her hand, and grabs his own without thinking, tugging him onto the couch with her. He stiffens in surprise when she buries her face in his shoulder, fingers still interlocked with his, and she doesn’t even care if he has someone waiting for him right now, he’s here, right when she needs him, as he always is. Caroline needs something to ground her in reality, and if there’s one singular thing her senses can focus on, it’s Klaus Mikaelson. Ironic, given that she came here to escape him. With her burrowing into him the way she has, it’s easy to just focus on him. The cedar probably comes from the cologne he wears, because it’s easily the strongest smell, sitting right on the surface. She breathes deeper, still somewhat lightheaded from her momentary freak-out earlier, and she can smell the sharp scent of pine needles, ozone, and death. It’s both fitting and foreboding, and she wonders if the tingling she gets on her tongue when she’s with him really is chemistry, or if it’s a prey response from being so close to a man that screams danger in every foreseeable way. “Caroline, are you alright?” She feels him brush one of her curls away from her face, feels the silky (and undoubtedly expensive) fabric of his shirt on her cheek. If she was a cat she’d be purring. She knows she has about five seconds to answer before he gets impatient and flashes them out of here, witnesses be damned. Still, she’s having a hard time putting the problem into words now that the worst of it is over. “Too much.” She rasps out, trusting him to understand her the way he always does. He hums, and she focuses on the vibrations as she does her best to tune out everything but him. “Vampires have a tendency to blur the lines between regular lust and bloodlust, especially in settings like these. In fledglings, it can make their powers come to the surface against their will.” He pauses, shifting as he tilts her chin up gently. She’s barely had time to take in those stormy eyes she loves so much before he continues, minty breath ghosting against her face, “Your features haven’t changed, likely due to your impressive control, but we should still get you some fresh air.” She swallows thickly, head still swimming, “I think that’s a good idea.” He tells her to wait there and says something to the management, who have her confirm that she knows him (which she does via a picture from Miami that he’s clearly very surprised she kept), before handing her a bottle of water and sending them on their way, Klaus grabbing their coats on the way out. Enzo is going to be so fucking annoying about this.