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welcometomypersonalhell098 · 6 months ago

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i dont usually post but this is the rare occurrence where I can dump about my boy, my love: FLOYD LEECH. Consider this the unofficial crashcourse to Floyd Leech likers. Or don't idk. warning for uh absolute word vomit and octatrio favoritism

1. His Dynamics (and by that I mean octatrio)

With Azul:

When Azul said the twins would probably leave him when he got ‘boring' in Chapter 3, I need us as a fanbase to collectively point at him and call him a BIG FAT LIARRRR. I know what I saw in chapter 3, and Floyd Leech—while not exactly a tactful person per se— CARES. Even when Floyd teases Azul and makes life harder for him, I’m pretty sure that’s just his love language. And!! Despite his teasing, Floyd really does have some respect for Azul’s magical strength as seen in the Beanfest event.

He goes through all the ‘boring’ stuff for Azul and Jade’s plots because he likes the fun results!! He calls them by their ACTUAL names. They’ve been together since like middle school, and someone as mercurial as Floyd hasn’t gotten sick of Azul? It means he definitely has a bigger attachment that he OR Azul would like to admit. They are besties that hate to admit it because of the NRC disease of Not Being Emotionally Vulnerable Ever ™

Like look at these drama queens they are having the time of their LIVES.

With Jade:

I mean, yeah, it would make sense these guys would be close as twins BUT their dynamic is so fun. Jade's more "polite" demeanor plays off of Floyd's chaos perfectly: giving the guise of a put-together brother always needing to reign in his twin's insanity. When really both of them are menaces to society.

Probably the best example is in the Glorious Masquerade event, where Floyd makes a tantrum after finding out Azul gets to go to Noble College. And Jade JOINS IN.

(credits to RoseAmber on YT for the screenshots: I hadn't fallen into my TWST fixation as hard with the event was out on the EN server o7)

And of course, it goes without saying that they make for a really scary team for Azul. God bless Miss Yana and the team behind the Octavinelle manga--they have my soul and then some.

BUT THEY ARE ALSO GOOFY ASF and i love that for them

2. His Character

And there is a LOT of it. So let's start with his design!

(sorry about the long image </3) BUT you can definitely tell a lot about him with this official pic

for one: he's definitely relaxed. It's definitely in his pose: the hand holding the hat up, the other in his pocket, and in his posture. As opposed to say, Riddle who stands ramrod straight, this is NOT the image of a guy that cares too much about what people think of him. he has his own style and he flaunts it. He's had lines where he talks about his octopus inspired socks and his thing for fancy shoes-- he could not care LESS about his loose clothes either much to Azul's chagrin.

ALSO this is way less concrete but like...his face matches his voice wayyy too well. Credit to the VO: Nobuhiko Okamoto (fun fact also the voice of BAKUGO FROM MHA???) for his voice especially his laugh. Something about the way his eyes are droopy and his sharp teeth are shown in the image?? That's a silly guy, right there. And his laugh is just the right amount of weirdly endearing and creepy it is absolutely wonderful.

Now, in terms of personality...

We all get it. He's a menace. In his Ceremonial robes and Lab Wear SRs, he definitely shows his flip-floppy nature. In the former, he's fucking around at one of Kalim's parties and in the latter he is subject to one of Adeuces' fuck ups--and surprisingly doesn't hunt them for sport after (yay!). It's his thing.

But!!! There's other things!! :D

Among the rest of the Octavinelle trio, Floyd is probably the most acclimated to land life. Even more than Jade, despite his love for the mountains and mushrooms. Because Floyd has the unique trait of just fucking throwing himself at anything and everything the human world has to offer. We know from the Stargazing Event that Floyd has a thing for high-end shoes from a conversation he had with his (mafia??) father. Despite his initial boredom with fashion in general, it feels very 'Floyd' for him to be fixated on the one item that is intrinsic to living on land: shoes.

He's also canonically really good at cooking...when he wants to be. Like all other things in his life, he tends to be flippant with when he feels like making a meal. But damn when he DOES. For example, during Culinary Crucible Sebek admits that Floyd is very skilled in the kitchen. (If anybody has his CC card....and would like to share with the class his vignette....wink wink nudge nudge). And in the most recent event: Stitch's Tropical Turbulence in the EN server he's seen making a delicious meal for the crew that everyone can't help but compliment: even RIDDLE. He also says its best when you "just wing it" and throw stuff together: which makes sense for his taste for weird takoyaki flavors. Jade has said before that in the Coral Sea they just kind of eat shit raw--which makes it pretty impressive Floyd has such a knack for cooking as a land-dweller activity.

I think it's been said that generally merfolk have a bad time with flight--which extends to the Octatrio. I believe there's been vignettes that focus on Azul's struggles in P.E., though I'm not so sure about Jade. What I AM sure is that chibi Jade is constantly going through it in flight lessons so, I'll take that as gospel for now. But!!! Floyd has a fucking blast. It's definitely not like he's a prodigy or anything but, he thinks it's fun to keep trying ("Haha! I'm like, so bad at this!") Which honestly is why my headcanon is that he is the ONLY of the Octatrio to not be failing P.E.. This also extends to his involvement of the basketball club.

For a merperson to adjust to walking on land is already a crazy ask. TO ASK THEM TO PLAY AN ENTIRELY NEW SPORT THAT RELIES ON NEW RULES, PUTTING INTO ACCOUNT PHYSICS ON LAND AND OH YEAH THEIR LEGS IS INSANE.

But, Floyd Leech does not care what you think is insane. Actually, maybe he does. Just so he can do it. To top it all off: he's good. He can be really good. Club Wear stuff hasn't come out yet in EN server but Floyd Leech can fucking DUNK. I've seen the art. I know what I saw.

His diligence can rival Azul's--he's just less consistent about it. I just think that's funny and pretty cool.

3. Him,,,,,,but like romantically

OKAY SO THIS IS THE PINING PART. THE DOWN BAD MANIFESTO IF YOU WILL.

Sorry it took so long to get here, but I'm here now. Lemme absolutely YAP about what I love about him.

I have some feelings about how authors write him (THIS IS ALL OPINION I LOVE ALL FANFIC AUTHORS ESP OP U DESERVE A KISS ON THE FOREHEAD <3)

I dislike the yandere/overly possessive angle the twins get. I do. But, I get where that interpretation stems from: they're outwardly violent, intimidating, and are basically the fish mafia. Focusing on Floyd though: I love it when he's just....a guy in fics. When he is complaining about his childhood-best-friend-turned-boss who scolded him, or when he gets excited when his crush goes to his basketball games, or when he just wants to SQUEEZE the cute person in his class because he's got cuteness aggression. Fluff, I just like fluff.

OOO OOO FICS THAT LEAN INTO THE "Eels are Cowards" LINE. MY HEART AND SOUL. THEY HAVE IT. Gonna give Jade a big fat kiss for saying that line BC GOOD GOD.

GIMME FLOYD WHERE HE IS STARING AT THE READER FROM ACROSS THE ROOM BC HE DOESN'T HAVE THE BALLS TO SAY WHAT HE FEELS. GIMME FLOYD WHERE HE STARTS TO CALL THE PREFECT BY THEIR NAME INSTEAD OF "SHRIMPY" EXCLUSIVELY. GIMME FLOYD WHERE HE WANTS TO IMPRESS HIS LOVE INTEREST AND GETS EMBARRASSED WHEN HE LOOKS "UNCOOL".

I love where Floyd gets moments where he is caught off guard. Not even necessarily flustered. SHOUT OUT TO @cloudedgalaxies on Ao3 AND Tumblr for one of my FAVORITE interpretations of this.

I love it when Floyd doesn't know what to do when someone actively seeks him out. He's a moray--he's known to be feared by even the creatures of the deep. People at NRC know to be wary of him and his brother: he's basically a hitman for Azul for Seven's sake. But, for some reason, Yuu don't mind it. And I mean that in the sense to refer to the prefect and YOU. I love it when the reader puts up with his squeezes, his mood swings, and his eccentricities. Because for them, it isn't "putting up" with anybody: it's just them spending a good time with Floyd. And that's not a response Floyd expects. HE'S the one who is supposed to be unpredictable! Not you!

So he gets quieter. More reflective. Maybe even more angry. Whyyy???? Why do you do that? Your unpredictability robs Floyd of his control. He likes to toy with people for their reactions, but he is wholly unprepared for yours. And that makes him flail. In @cloudedgalaxies ' fic 'Benevolent Souls', Floyd gets angry with the reader. He can't understand their motivations and that bothers him in a way that he can't even understand completely. Love is foreign to him. The sea is cruel and cold sometimes, even though Floyd loves it it can crush your vulnerability. It really can.

I love it when fics make Floyd love. Even if he didn't think he could. I love it when fics show Floyd's softness that he didn't even know he had. I really do: because he throws himself into loving like he does everything else he thinks is worth it. I LOVE when he thinks love is worth it. He's intense, and wild, and unpredictable, and he's so silly. I love Floyd Leech. I do.

🐙 — AUBURN'S SUMMER RAFFLE EVENT!

rules for entry !

1) reblog this post and list something you love about your favorite twisted wonderland character!! gush about them!! yearn!! PINE!! you can get as mushy as you want, we love to see it!! 2) understand that each prize will be a sfw piece, with no ocs or self inserts (since i dont know how well i'll be able to write them.) 3) understand that raffle entries will start june 16th and end june 30th. winners will be announced after the event ends on july 1st. prizes will be awarded as i complete them. 4) understand that absolutely no incestuous, pedophilic, or other "problematic" relationships will be accepted as a request. if you win and request something as such, your prize will be revoked and someone else will receive it.

prizes !

1st place . . . a 2000 word (minimum) x reader fic with any character(s), tropes, aus, relationship(s) you want. 2nd place . . . a 1000 word (minimum) x reader fic with any character(s), tropes, aus, relationship(s) you want. 3rd place . . . a 500 word (minimum) x reader drabble with any character(s), tropes, aus, relationship(s) you want.

if enough people apply, i will consider adding a 4th & 5th prize . . .

4th & 5th place . . . a 300 word (minimum) x reader drabble with any character(s), tropes, aus, relationship(s) you want.

if you have any questions, please let me know in the comments <3

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thelordofdarkreunion · 4 years ago

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The Worst Planet in the Universe

The “humans are weird/earth is space Australia” stories that are quite famous here usually have aliens reacting to how they think humanity or Earth is really strange and bizarre. So, I got an idea: what if people could react not to Earth, but to one of the singular worst planets in all of science fiction? Here, we have some of the characters of the Magnificent Scoundrels reacting to the planet of Krieg and its infamous Death Korps from Warhammer 40k.

Death Korps is pronounced “death core” not “death corpse.” Jeicher is pronounced the German way, as “yay-cur”, not “jai-cher.”

“In life, war. In death, peace. In life, suffering. In death, atonement.” -Final litany of the Litany of Sacrifice, recited by the Guardsmen of the Death Korps of Krieg when entering battle

The shuttle slipped through the dead and polluted atmosphere, shields raised to their fullest capacity to avoid the boiling streaks of orange lightning. The occupants of the shuttle stared warily out the window, still nervous even though their craft was in the hands of some of the best pilots in the universe.

“I still don’t understand why we’re here,” said Commissar Cain from a strapped-in seat in the shuttle’s rear.

“Well, we’re visiting planets from each other’s galaxies,” replied Admiral Vir from the cockpit as he and Solo desperately tried to avoid the lighting.

“Yeah, I know that,” snapped back Cain. “What I don’t understand is why we’re here. Out of all the planets in the galaxy, you pick this one.”

“You wanted to know more about populous Imperial Guard regiment homeworlds, and you said Krieg sounded like an interesting name,” muttered Solo as a particularly large blast lit up the cockpit window. “Starting to regret that now?”

“I most certainly am!” screamed Dr. Kril from inside the heavy clear plastic compartment designed to hold him when accompanying Vir off the Omen. “And I thought Earth was a death world!”

“Radiation levels are approaching 3,700 roentgan,” said Vir, crisply reading off the cockpit instruments.

“We’re all gonna die,” wailed Kril.

The shuttle’s communication system crackled to life, and a dry, toneless voice sounded over it.

“Shuttle B-77401, you are clear of the storm in twenty seconds. Please proceed to landing pad RT-556 at coordinates 66579. Radiation levels on ground are currently 1,500 roentgan.”

“I remember reading up on your horrible human disasters, and that’s the level of radiation the Chernobyl disaster had right next to the plant as the fires were still going!” screeched Kril. “I will not be stepping foot on this planet! If you have a death wish, that's fine with me, but I won’t be leaving the shuttle!” He crossed his arms and sat against the container wall. Vir and Solo didn’t have time to respond.

“Breaking storm now.” The lightning and horrible, swirling grey clouds cleared, only to reveal a scene of utter devastation. The land below was an endless expanse of grey and brown. Entire swaths of earth were covered with grey dust. Other areas were endless seas of irradiated mud, with ancient and rusted barbed wire, empty concrete bunkers, and long abandoned and corroded gun emplacements sticking out from the infinite brown. A few ossified trees, long dead, peeked up in places, the only signs of life, or what was once life, on the planet.

“What happened here?” murmured Vir.

“A tale of tragedy, and betrayal,” replied Cain softly. “Once upon a time, some 1,500 years ago, Krieg was a massive city world. The ruling oligarchy decided to turn their backs on the Emperor and rebel against the Imperium of Man. The commander of the loyalist Guard forces decided that if the Imperium couldn’t have the planet, no one would. But despite the unleashing of a stash of Dark Age nuclear weapons, the people of Krieg survived, and loyalist fought traitor in a five hundred year long war in the trenches of the wastes.” The shuttle was silent, imagining how horrible such a war would be. This singular civil war, on this singular planet, eclipsed even the most horrible of fights from most of their home galaxies. “Eventually, the loyalists won, and rejoined the Imperium. Ever since, the people of Krieg have fought in the deadliest of Imperial warzones to repent for their ancient betrayal.”

“Wait, wait, wait. There are people that live here? This isn’t just a military base?” asked an incredulous Solo.

“Yes,” replied Cain. “They live in massive underground cities, safely shielded from the worst of the radiation aboveground.”

“My god… there aren’t really words to describe that,” said Vir.

“Shuttle B-77401, you are cleared for landing,” came the voice of the controller. “Please wear radiation-proof suits. Commissar Jeicher will be present along with an honor guard to escort you.” The brown of mud gave way to a large, circular landing pad sunk into Krieg’s dead earth. The pad led to a set of stairs, travelling down into a set of heavy, sealed double doors, leading even further down into the ruined planet’s crust. On the pad were two figures, clad in greatcoats and gasmasks, flanked by a double line of soldiers. Vir and Solo set the shuttle down.

In the back, Cain had already pulled the hood of a radiation-proof bodysuit over his head, and attached an anachronistic looking gasmask. Over this, he donned an old and tattered Commissarial cap and greatcoat. Vir and Solo also donned much more modern-looking gas masks over their bodysuits, and went to the shuttle’s rear as Kril screeched about the dangers of radiation. With the quick press of a button, they activated the airlock and stepped onto the surface of the ruined planet.

Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance as they stepped down the shuttle ramp and came face to face with what they presumed to be Commissar Jeicher. He was wearing the same outfit as Cain, a Commissar’s cap and greatcoat covering his bodysuit and gas mask. Behind him was a double rank of soldiers, wearing grey greatcoats and gas masks, clutching their las rifles in the ‘present arms’ position. Next to Jeicher stood another figure, hands clasped neatly behind their back. This one was dressed in much fancier boots, and wore a cuirassier’s breastplate. A brown greatcoat was draped over the figure's shoulders, and Vir assumed it to be an officer. Jeicher reached out to shake each of the trio’s hands in turn.

“Admiral Vir. Captain Solo. Commissar Cain. A pleasure to have you on Krieg. I am Commissar Jeicher, and this is Captain Kust,” he said, pointing to the officer behind him. Kust offered a single, curt nod. “You wished to have a tour of the planet, and to see it’s capacity for making war. I can assure you, gentlemen, that Krieg is one of the finest planets in the Imperium in that regard. I trust you will not be disappointed.” As he said this, Jeicher led them down the path leading away from the shuttle and towards the underground tunnels. As they walked, a series of flashes lit up the horizon, followed by the booming of thunder. Jeicher raised a gloved hand and gestured in the general direction of the noise.

“About twenty kilometers in that direction, we have the artillery and live-fire drills of the soon to be 712th Death Korps Regiment. It is the be the newest regiment coming into Imperial service, and the thirtieth Death Korps regiment raised this month. They will soon be shipping out to Warzone Viclius in the Segmentum Pacificus to break a massive ork siege of the Viclius sector.” They reached the end of the twin lines of troopers.

“Right shoulder, arms!” yelled Kust, her voice (Vir could tell it was a ‘her’ underneath the mask now) managing to carry through both her mask and Krieg’s stormy atmosphere. “Left face!” The Korpsmen spun to face the heavy blast doors in perfect synchronicity. Jeicher inputted some sort of code, and, with a great creaking and grinding of metal, the doors slid open. “Forward, march!”

The group, followed by the honour guard, stepped into a large white room. As the doors closed behind them, various nozzles sprayed radiation-retardant foam onto them. The airlock process completed, the heavy set of double doors in front of them opened. Despite the decontamination, no one took their masks off.

The halls were quite familiar to Vir, but unlike anything he’d seen as a civilization. They were long, emotionless white and grey concrete bunker systems, lit by cheap yellow bulbs that still allowed him to see perfectly well. Endless, emotionless bunker halls. It saddened him. What a terrible way to live and grow up.

Through the long walkways, they passed seemingly thousands of Korpsmen, all wearing grey greatcoats, and staring from behind emotionless gas masks. They all blurred into one, and Vir was grateful that at least Jeicher, Kust, and their honor guard he could pick out from the crowd.

They reached another large double blast door, and the two Korpsmen standing guard outside snapped to attention. The group walked through, only for the three offworlders to stop short. The entire left half of the hallway was a massive clear window. Far beneath them, a full division of Death Korps Guardsmen marched through an utterly massive, hangar-sized underground hallway. It was an endless tide of grey coats and gas masks, the thud of their boots echoing up even past the glass of the observation deck. Tanks rolled past, along with smaller, two legged armored walkers.

“That’s the 122nd Siege Army. Newly formed. They’re shipping out to the southern part of Segmentum Ultima today,” said Jeicher. He made another motion, and the group, still followed by Kust and her honor guard, left the observation room.

They walked through more hallways, still stark and emotionless, until they got to another double door. This area of tunnels and bunkers seemed to have more Korpsmen around. Officers, wearing their higher, more polished boots and cuirassiers’ breastplates. The double doors opened, revealing a much more polished and refined room, made mostly out of metal. Computers clung to the walls, and workstations were filled with Death Korps soldiers, red-robed cybernetic tech-priests, and unmasked commissars.

“This is the central command room of this section of Krieg’s underground cities,” said Jeicher, continuing the tour. “All the regiments and supplies that are raised and produced in section Alpha-Gamma-551 are tracked here. As you can see, we have more than enough to outfit the two regiments this sector is raising.” They went through the room, through another series of hallways, and down multiple sets of solid but plain corrugated steel stairs.

“Here we have the underground munitions factories of Krieg,” said Jeicher, gesturing through another glass panel on an observation deck. This time, the windows led onto an utterly massive factory floor. Conveyor belts led to unknown machines, and churned out endless numbers of what seemed to be artillery shells. “As you can see, everything is completely on schedule.” Vir noticed workers, all wearing heavy grey suits and gas masks below. Some of them seemed to be… off, and it took a moment for him to realize precisely why.

“Wait a minute… are those children?” he wheeled around and demanded at Jeicher. He was met with the empty lenses of a gas mask.

“Yes,” replied Jeicher. “I do realize that many off-worlders not of the Munitorum or Mechanicus find the practice… distasteful, but-”

“Distasteful doesn’t even begin to cover it. More like abhorrent,” snarled Vir.

“If you cannot fight, you must serve,” intoned Kust. “All infertile males serve in the Death Korps. Most fertile males and infertile females serve in the Death Korps. Most fertile females and some fertile males serve in the munitions factories. Children cannot go to waste,” she finished, rattling off the practices of Krieg in a completely toneless voice. Vir looked like he was about to explode. Cain put a hand on his shoulder, and nodded towards the honor guard and their las guns. Noticing the mood in the room, Jeicher went on.

“I think it’s best if we go on,” he said. The group followed him through another set of hallways, and when Kust was out of earshot, Jeicher spoke to the trio of newcomers.

“Please don’t antagonize the Kriegers,” he said. “That’s why they have commissars, actually. To ease the transition between them and any allied forces.” “They deserve to die,” hissed Vir, still shaking with rage. Jeicher gave a mirthless laugh.

“Oh, they do. Their entire purpose, their entire existence, is to die in the Emperor’s wars. They want this.”

“Why?” asked Solo. “Why would anyone want this?”

“They are driven by one of the most powerful motivators in the world. Not anger, not love, not faith, but shame. Shame of their ancient rebellion. In the Emperor’s service, the Death Korps will pay any price.”

The group reached another viewing balcony. This one overlooked a much smaller room, where a group of children in grey overcoats drilled with small las carbines. Vir clenched his fist in rage, but said nothing.

“Present arms!” yelled an adult and fully uniformed drill sergeant from behind his gas mask. The children held out their weapons in front of them, many with as much or even more precision than Vir had seen of new GA marine recruits. Most of them looked to be no older than six or seven, making the workers in the factory even younger…

No. He did not want to think about that.

The drill instructor moved along the line of recruits (or children, if you were fortunate enough to not be raised in a post-apocalyptic militaristic hellhole, thought Vir.) The instructor spun and glared at one of the cadets.

“P-44271930,” he stated.

“Yes, sir!” replied the cadet, with the enthusiasm of a fresh recruit.

“What is your duty, P-44271930?” asked the instructor.

“To serve the Emperor’s will,” replied the cadet.

“And what is the Emperor’s will?” queried the instructor.

“That we fight and die!” Vir clenched down so hard he crushed the balcony bar in the viewing room.

“What is death?” asked the instructor.

“It is our duty!” replied the cadet. The instructor nodded.

“Very good, P-44271930.” He took a step back. “Right shoulder, arms!” Vir looked at Jeicher.

“They’re calling them by their serial numbers at that young of an age?” he asked, still fuming. Jeicher inwardly cringed. He suspected the esteemed Admiral would not like what came next.

“They don’t have names,” said Kust, with the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

“What?” asked Vir, in a ‘please, do try my patience’ tone.

“None of us have names,” replied Kust.

“You have a name,” pointed out Vir.

“You only get a name if you survive long enough to become an officer,” replied Kust.

“Really?” Vir wheeled around to face the leader of the honor guard. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“YH-5577933,” replied the man, in a completely emotionless voice. Vir threw his hands in the air, completely done.

“Fine.” He nodded at Jeicher. “Continue the tour,” he snapped. Jeicher nodded, and motioned them on. I have to get off this place as soon as possible, thought Vir. This is… beyond anything I thought possible.

I hope you enjoyed it. I find Krieg and the Death Korps are one of the most interesting groups in science fiction. Motivated by shame, they represent the worst humanity could ever become. However, they are utter badasses in battle. If you aren’t afraid to die, you can pull of some pretty heroic things. If you have any questions, comments, criticisms, concerns, requests, or want me to continue this story, please tell me! Have a great day!

It should be noted, of course, I do not own any of these characters. Vir and Kril belong to starr-fall-knight-rise, Cain belongs to Games Workshop, and Solo belongs to Disney.

#writing #story #humans are space orcs #earth is a deathworld #warhammer 40k #death korps of krieg

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fill-me-with-your-memes-daddy · 3 years ago

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Watching the Rise of the Titans movie and I'll be documenting all of my thoughts/reactions here. [Spoiler Warning]

So instead of reblogging every new update, I'm just going to have this post up on my phone as I watch and type my reactions in a bullet list format.

Nari's human disguise is so cute. As someone who does have a cottagecore aesthetic, I want to cosplay her so bad

Are Skrael and/or Belroc non-binary coded? Regardless, I'm also obsessed and I want to fuck Skrael and be Belroc.

STEVE CARING ABOUT JIM BEING HURT YESSSS!!! My god his redemption has probably been one of the greatest there is because he doesn't just suddenly go from being a bully to a completely good person. You can see the gradual shift in learning better throughout the shows which is awesome.

IN NEW YOOOOOOORRRRRRRK!!!!!! CONCRETE JUNGLE WHERE DREAMS ARE MADE OFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!

The mugshot montage reminded me of season 1 of trollhunters when toby and Jim were arrested at the museum.

STRICKLER PUT A RING ON IT??? HE'S THE ONLY DILF IVE EVER ACTUALLY AGREED WAS HOT WYM I CAN'T HAVE HIM??? well I'm still really happy about his arc over the series probably one of my favorite character growths.

Eli my guy got his growth spurt!!! As an 18 year old who is still 5'0", I'm happy but envious for him

So I went into this movie without watching any trailers or promo, but I doubt anything could have prepared me for the existence of mpreg. In fact, I wasn't going to document my reactions until I saw that.

NAMURA!!!!!!!!! MY BELOVED!!!!!! I CAN STILL THIRST FOR YOU WITHOUT GUILT

The coach teacher just called the kids zoomers so I have to dock one point from my final rating just because of that. Unforgivable

Those husky animation models suck lmao

Oh fuck the titans got power ranger zords!!

God why did they include the mpreg??? This movie would have been perfect without it.... After that plot point being revisited only one time I'm already beyond done with it

Like it's bringing me back to the v*ltron days where they're was a suspiciously high amount of klance omegaverse and mpreg fics and art created and it physically hurts because Steve and Keith's voice actor is the same person meaning this is especially cursed to me since I was unfortunately in the v*ltron fandom and remember all of that

But like on another note, how old are these characters again??? I haven't checked any wikis because of spoilers but is Steve an adult??? I know aja might be technically a lot older than 18 because alien but is whatever age she is equivalent to an adult as far as emotionally and physically in Akaridion development??? IS THIS A TEEN (M)PREGNANCY IN A KIDS SHOW????

Like bruh I saw a singular post on here before going into the movie that was like "rott spoilers without context" and there was a pregnant belly but I was absolutely not expecting the actual context of it. I'll find the post after I finish and edit this post to tag the creator right here: @makoden

This entire post is just gonna be me ranting about mpreg huh

Anyway I love the whole roundtable allusion to the legends of king arthur (not the toa version but the one he's based off)

THERE'S 3 TO 5 BABIES????? I need to take a break bruh this is just too much

Alright I've taken a 30 minute break got some food and did some things i love (decompressed by tactile stimming with some owl plushies and watched some videos on my favorite owl, Garu. He lives in Japan with his owner and is a domesticated eagle owl who basically just acts like a sky cat. If anyone else needs some eye bleach, here is their YouTube channel)

Blinky and ARRRGHHH!!! saying their "if one of us doesn't make it" talk my god one of them is going to die I can see it and I will be utterly crushed. Jim can't lose another father figure and Toby can't lose his wingman again I will riot if this happens

On a similar but unrelated to the movie note, can we just talk about how toa started with Jim having 0 dads and (if strickler and blinky live to the end) will end with 2 dads? Like I just really feel happy for him that he has two dads who actually figured out how to put the past behind them to not have any infighting between them so that both of them are healthy father figures. Jim has already been through literal hell and back losing his actual humanity in the process so if he loses one of them, I'm going to be really pissed because at this point, this is just Jim torture porn. Y'all know how as SpongeBob SquarePants went on, the show just became Squidward torture porn? It's starting to feel that way for toa and I really hope they cut the shit by the ending

Jlaire is such a good ship but like I feel like it's too perfect they never disagree with each other

YESSSSSSS Someone finally doesn't treat toby like a fat waste of space who messes stuff up!!! I think out of all the characters that would have been most deserving of a rewrite, it's Toby. Sometimes I just feel he's only comic relief and any heartfelt moments he's had in the series was also born of stupidity (ie his flour baby project being unharmed was seen by him as divine intervention from his parents but was actually just Eli and Steve behind the scenes).

Ohhhhh yesssssss Archie's father!!! I was hoping I'd see him again because we got so little of him last

Ooooooooooh Asian trollmarket!!!!!

Oh never mind slavery trollmarket

Bruh titanic camelot

I feel like we're not seeing enough of the villains because I completely forgot about the power ranger zord things

NAMORA NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MY LAST CRUSHHHH

STRICKLER NO NOT YOU TOO PLEASE

WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE ONLY TWO CHARACTERS I SIMP FOR ON THIS SHOW DIED WITHIN FIVE MINUTES OF EACH OTHER

THAT WHOLE ASS RANT I WROTE IS COMING TRUE FUCK THIS MOVIE THIS SERIES IS JUST JIM TORTURE PORN

WAIT JIM'S SPERM DONOR INFO?

Oh thank God I don't want to know anything about that person

For the record, I call that man Jim's sperm donor because he has no business being called a father to him. All he did was donate some swimmers to the creation of him and give him abandonment issues

Oh another blind troll elder???? This fucker is just if vendel was a bad guy

Bruh I was grieving

PACIFIC RIM WITH GUN ROBOT VEX AND THE BELROCZORD? I've never seen that movie but I know the reference

Bruh Blinky doesn't read horoscopes? Does he realize conspiracy theories are just the manly version of horoscopes?

NO DON'T KILL VEX STOP KO-ING FOUND FAMILY MEMBERS

Oh thank God he's okay

NO NOT ARCHIE AND CHARLEMAGNE OH MY GOD

oh never mind they're just gonna coup de tat I believe in them :))

But I want to see him again

But I'm glad to see vex

Yay they're in arcadia!

But yeah I wondered why the trolls and Merlin didn't keep the whole "daylight doesn't hurt trolls" feature from the eternal night but now Guillermo del Toro I see you were playing the long con in that just to kill my girl Namora :(((

Oooooh I love the animation of the Narizord over Chihuahua!! It looks very good and realistic (if only they could have put some of that into those huskies from before smh)

Bruh the character designs of the arcane order are so good I want to be them

Nari making sure the Skraelzord doesn't crush the bus

DAMN DOUBLE HOMICIDE

Bruh I'm just glad we finally have an answer on why arcadia had everything going on as opposed to literally anywhere else!! I always found that as a weird coincidence for plot convince.

BRUH WERE BACK TO THE MPREG IM SO JEALOUS I FORGOT ABOUT THAT EVEN THOUGH IT WAS BECAUSE I WAS GRIEVING THE LOSS OF MY LOVELIES.

Oh that's real convenient that the ninth configuration meant all of them. Way to not decide which character gets more attention. Though it probably was a smart way to not have any infighting in the fandom between each character's stan group.

Bruh I just realized where is Barbera did they just ditch her on the Camelot ship???

And where are the other trolls that migrated at the end of trollhunters s3? They said something about new jersey but obviously Jim and the other main characters got on Camelot instead.... This feels like a plot hole

And we never learned the process of how changelings are made and bonded to humans and stuff. We just know it's super painful but I'm curious ffs!!!!

THE DONT THINK BECOME HERO SPEECH ALL SAID TOGETHER!!!

BRUH THEY REALLY HAD TO SHOW HIM GIVING BIRTH??????? WAS THAT AN ABSOLUTE MUST??????

Plus the main audience for this series is little children (the rating for the movie is literally TV-Y7) so even though my adult ass is not in the target audience, I STILL DONT UNDERSTAND WHY WOULD MPREG AND ANAL BIRTH WOULD BE AN IMPORTANT THING TO 7 YEAR OLDS???? THIS IS A LITERAL FETISH HIDDEN IN KIDS CONTENT ITS ELSAGATE ALL OVER AGAIN Y'ALL 😭😭😭😭😭

Though it's probably hypocritical of me to think fetishes don't belong in kids tv when I've openly admitted to thirsting for strickler and namora

HUZZAH

NEW AMULET WAZ GOOD????

STAB THAT BITCH JIM

WAIT NO I SAID STAB NOT GET STABBED

Alright good job just missed the directions at first but you fixed it

SEVEN KIDS?????????

T O B Y ????????????

W A I T NO

N O

IS HE ACTUALLY

OH MY GOD THERE'S HOPE

NO THERE ISN'T

F U C K THIS SHIT THEY REALLY JUST HAD HIM TO BE BULLIED THEN KILLED

Y'ALL IM ACTUALLY CRYING THIS NEVER HAPPENS

I NEVER ACTUALLY GET SO EMOTIONAL OVER MEDIA THAT I CRY IT ONLY HAPPENED ONCE AT THE END OF VOLTRON BUT AHHHHHHHH

W A I T

HE'S GONNA BE BROUGHT BACK?????

HOLD UP THEY'RE JUST GONNA BRING ALL THOSE DEAD PEOPLE BACK??????

WAIT IS HE

BLINKY CALLED HIM A SON

HOLD ON IS THIS GOING TO BE A CLIFFHANGER???????????

BRUH THEY REALLY JUST CAN'T END THE SERIES WITHOUT CLIFFHANGERS like there's always an open ending

TROLLHUNTER TOBY????? You know what forget the whole rants I had on how toby was written they just redeemed it all

And that's all! I'd rate it a 6.5/10 because it's definitely the weakest of all the sequels but still had amazing animation and some good plot points. It's just really hard to look over the bad stuff enough to rate it any higher.

#tales of arcadia #rise of the titans #trollhunters #rott #rise of the titans spoilers #rott spoilers #toa #3 below #athena's own original post!#jim lake jr #claire nuñez #toby domzalski

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notmoreflippingelves · 2 years ago

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For the AA ask please: 7, 15, 19, 23 and 35?

7. Favourite Design?

As in character design??? I feel like it will have to be something from either DGS or the Layton crossover as both have such lovely and unique aesthetic. Even though I will never forgive them from robbing us the mysterious masked man Phoenix in the PW vs. PL. Why do they hate sexiness?

I could say young Mikotoba because he’s really handsome but that’s so shallow and he never technically appears in the game as a younger mustache-less man which is a crme and a shame.

I really like Esmerald Tuspells and Enoch Drebbler’s designs a lot even though they are pretty Extra even by AA standards. I find the Masked Apprentice overrated as a character ngl but his design is also really great as is Sholmes/Holmes (though I still have a bit of a trouble wrapping my head around a blond Sherlock. He always has dark hair in my imagination except for Sherlock Hemlock from Sesame Street who is a redhead. But never blond).

I might have to say Barok van Zieks simply because I was a literature major and he has exquisite Victorian gothic/Byronic hero vibes. Either him or High Inquistor Darklaw from the Layton Crossover, who actually has a somewhat similar fashion-sense aesthetic to van Zieks.

15. Random headcanon you can share?

Hmmm...what’s a good tidbit to share that I don’t think I’ve already shared? I mean there’s the fact that I do genuinely believe that there is something concrete and sympathetic behind Kristoph’s black locks. And the fact that I hc that Kristoph was too busy focusing on school/work to have much of his social life and so Phoenix was really the closest thing to a friend he’d had by that point (let alone anything more than a friend), but I feel like I talk about these fairly regularly so hmmm...what else is random and not too self-indulgent/ship related and also sfw?

Oooo...I did have a head canon once that Daryan Crescend’s mom is a Payne sister (the lone Payne defense attorney and just as hopeless as her brothers, poor thing.) And that while his hair is very thick and impressive right now, he will fall victim to premature balding as his uncles (and ancestor in Meiji era Japan) did.

19. What do you think about the Ace Attorney Anime?

On the one hand, I definitely understand why some members of the fandom dislike it. Particularly not a fan of their version of Farewell, my Turnabout due to the changes made to Celeste and Adrian’s relationship. Also, it weirds me out that the English dub (while very good) kept the localized names but also kept the setting in Japan instead of Japanifornia which creates a weird canon kurfuffle. It would almost have been better to just keep their JP names for the anime in that case.

On the other, there is some genuinely pretty good content that came out of the anime. All of the theme songs are bops, the animation style is appealing (if somewhat less charming than the games), and a lot of the anime-exclusive content is actually really good and I tend to incorporate the bits that I like (and don’t directly contradict game canon) into my personal headcanon.

I particularly love the flashback episodes with bb!Larry, bb!Miles, and bb!Phoenix and think the Signal Samurai was a great addition to the franchise and adds a lot of emotional resonance to Miles’ canonical love of the Steel Samurai (i.e. maybe he likes Steel Samurai because it reminds him of another samauri show that his first real “friends” got him into). The anime original episode that dealt with the Fey girls and the “seashell” was another really good one that added some additional depth, emotion, and context to Maya’s relationships with Mia and with Pearl. I also have great love for the multi-part “train case” because dorky, uptight glasses Train Prosecutor is my beloved and gives me Kristoph vibes. Also where is the foe yay stuff with Train Prosecutie and Miles? We need it; I cry.

One thing that I do have to say is that the second season of the anime is overall much much better than the first. It was already a mistake to cram two games worth of content into a single season and given that they also rushed the pacing of each case, a lot of great stuff was bound to get cut for time. It was much smarter to do like they did in the second season--which just adapted AA3, slow down the pacing of the game’s cases and add a few new episodes to fill up the remaining time. Also, a different animation studio did the art for the 2nd season and it’s *much better.*

23. Your BROTP?

Part of me is tempted to say narumitsu just to annoy the fandom, but I won’t. Even though I don’t ship them at all (except in OT3 scenarios where at least one other character is there).

I’m going to say the trio of Edgeworth, Gumshoe, and Kay is probably my favorite dynamic to watch as they play off each other so well. You could also extend Lang, Ziska, and/or Sebastian to the group but I consider Edgeworth, Gumshoe and Kay the main trio. That being said, I do enjoy gumworth ship content so I’m okay with it not being totally platonic between the two of them--but I like it best when they are with Kay and having nice times all three together.

35. Smartest murder plan?

That’s tricky because when you really stop to think about it, most of the murder plans are way more complex than they need to be and have massive holes in logic/plausibility that totally strain credulity (but in a way that fits the tone of the series). Not to mention the fact that it’s mostly luck and/or being in a position of power that helps them get away with things for so long.

However, I’d have to say that the Big Bad of AAI 2 gets the undisputed crown of “Most Competent AA Villain by Far.” I mean to be fair, their complexity addiction is probably the reason they eventually got caught but unlike Kristoph who suffers from massive complexity addiction, AAI 2 Big Bad’s overly compex plan is just smarter and more thought out. (No unnecessary mail crimes for the aesthetic as with Kris. Though I still love him) .

The reason the AAI 2 baddie is so successful and competent is that they are successfully able to manipulate other people into doing the majority of their crimes for them--and therefore remaining very beneath suspicion. That’s hard enough to do in and of itself, but when the people you are manipulating are actually your *enemies* and allowing them to inevitably get caught and convicted for the crimes you tricked them into committing. It’s just...extra sweet and powerful. Even when they are caught and arrested, they’ve still gotten exactly what they wanted.

That being said, the only murder that they actually committed themselves was not the most well-thought out (though definitely appropriately Extra) but that is how they ended up caught and in their defense, they did have to improvise it.

#ace attorney #ace memes #ask #anonymous

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changeling-droneco · 11 months ago

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#OP I WOULD LIKE TO HEAR ABOUT THIS AU

Yay I love being enabled!

Okay so basically I was ranting to my friends about a video I watched about evil MLP versions and I was annoyed at while I loved the designs they made they had completely remade their personalities instead of actually expanding on their flaws. One of the new personalities was to make their old personality a complete lie and that they were involved with the mafia so I started ranting about how one COULD do a mafia based evil version of the mane six and set out some rules for how I think this would work

applejack's family is in charge, is just is, she's the only character that makes sense with how tied she is to the town

they need to think they're doing the overall right thing even if they do some wrong things to get to it

they need to still care about each other! they need to be friends! evil people can have friends!

they need to still embody their elements, but make it more toxic and codependent

give them concrete reasons to why they think this will lead to the best outcome

So this starts with Applejack and Rarity being friends as fillies due to both living in Ponyville, while their parents had "adult talks" they were expected to play together and while they had very different personalities from each other they were friends and playfought a lot. This would eventually lead to them as teens and young adults having a lot of flings with each other that always got tangled up before they ignored the other for a month and then immediately started flirting again the moment the month is over. It's a mess, they're disasters.

The Apples started this town for them as the leaders, one of the reasons they've stayed around so long is they won't betray a deal first, if you betray THEM then all bets are off but they never break their word otherwise. You may find yourself with a knife to the throat if you DON'T take the deal, but still, they won't suddenly change a deal on you. Applejack is being raised as the new matriarch of the group by Granny Smith who is the current don.

Anyways Rarity isn't high up in the mafia and honestly isn't the biggest fan of it, however with Applejack's influence she can spread her designs and fashion and art SO much farther! She can create so much more beauty! Sure some ponies get....hurt, but really, whats a few injuries between her and beauty! It'd be selfish to not take this opportunity!

One day Pinkie Pie comes to town and throws a big party for her being here now, someone tries to kill a member of the Apple family while they're distracted but Pinkie Pie detects it with her sense and foils the plot, immediately winning favor with the Apples and also a life debt. So Pinkie Pie goes "it's free friend" and now hangs out with Applejack and Rarity, she doesn't like the mean bloody bad parts, but Pinkie has the best fucking party drugs because she doesn't mind if happiness comes from a cupcake or a syringe, she just wants to see you smile so she tends to help out on the more drag trafficking and making side of things. She's one of the two main morality chains, as she doesn't like throwing sad parties so ponies get to live just to make it so Pinkie doesn't have to throw them a funeral.

Fluttershy comes to town and as is tradition a member of the apple family goes to greet her and welcome her in, get a glimpse and idea of the newcomer. So Applejack goes to visit and Fluttershy is too awkward to make her go away so they just have tea and they get along really well! Once Applejack gets Fluttershy going by bringing up Winona and critters she's seen in the Everfree she really gets going and Applejack starts to develop a bit of a crush. They quickly form a friendship. At some point something bad almost happens to Fluttershy, maybe a stalker? and Applejack solves it, bloodily. Fluttershy knows she should be scared, but standing over the body? protected? by someone so kind to her? she realizes she's never felt less scared in her life, she actually feels kind of in control! Craving this and desiring to pay back the kindness of her friend, she dives into the underworld, determined to protect the Good ponies who are kind to her from the Bad ponies who don't, no matter how.

Rainbow Dash is one of the few ponies that doesn't get in through Applejack but instead Fluttershy who missed her old friend a lot and wanted to see her again. When Rainbow Dash caught some crimes she was originally horrified and tried to shield Fluttershy and protect her from Applejack but Fluttershy stared her after Dash wouldn't listen and pleaded with her to understand how safe she feels and how sure it's not always kind but they can do so much good! Which Rainbow Dash proceeds to fall like a house of cards too because Fluttershy is too cute and too precious to Rainbow Dash so she decides to trust her. She's probably the most troubled by the whole mafia thing, and sometimes Pinkie gives her drugs (consensual, pinkie would never force something like that) to help ease her mind of it, she's put her loyalty to her friends above her morals even as she serves as the second morality chain.

At some point they all start dating and flirting and its cute danger codependency as their elements feed into their worst traits, Loyalty becomes blind faith, Honesty becomes control, Kindness becomes worship, Generosity becomes privilege, Laughter becomes hedonism. (this is not to say any of things are inherently bad it's just a quick shorthand)

When Twilight arrives the girls are all like "she's cute lets bother her" and poke her a lot with shenanigans and fun. They weren't planning on actually becoming as close to her as they do, but due to her connection to Celestia they hide the mafia stuff from her for a bit. That is until they discover Twilight experimenting with very illegal spells, she babbles excuses about furthering knowledge and how knowledge should never be illegal and that shes trying to understand them and fix them so they don't need to be forbidden, but offhandedly mentions how her research has kind of stalled by a lack of test subjects.

Applejack then starts to use her curiosity to bring her into the truth, giving her test subjects from debtors and people looking for favors. Twilight is hesitant, and even unsure, but the rest of the mane six assure that yes sometimes they do a bit of crime sure, they're just protecting the town! they're protecting the ponies! there so far away from any big civilization they don't even have any guards even though the everfree forest is right there! Things are different then in Canterlot here Twi.

The cinch comes when Applejack mentions Celestia gave them the land, and Twilight goes "well if PRINCESS CELESTIA gave you the land CLEARLY then this is what she wanted because PRINCESS CELESTIA is perfect"

It is worth noting that while their relationship is codependent and not healthy, it is not abusive the girls all love each other and are genuinely trying to be good to each other, they're just not in the kind of mindset needed to actually have a healthy relationship, here's an example of the dynamic of unhealthy but not abusive

Pinkie: whats wrong Rainbow? it's really late!

Rainbow rubbing a hoof across her leg, clearly jittery: i just, im having nightmares again Pinkie, was it...was it right? What we did today?

Pinkie: oh Rainbow come here give Pinkie a hug

Pinkie as they hug: does Dashie want some of Pinkie's special happy to sleep better?

Rainbow: yeah, i'd like that

Pinkie then smiles and kisses Rainbow, passing a pill into her mouth

Rainbow relaxing: yeah that, that feels better, thanks Pinkie

Pinkie nods: of course Dashie! anything to help you feel better~!

Got annoyed at evil aus that completely change a characters personality instead of expanding on canon flaws and accidentally made a fucked up mane six mafia codependent polyamory au during my annoyed grumblings

#My Little Pony #mlp #this has been three am thoughts

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mxdotombra · 4 years ago

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Musa, the one character I’m the least confident about (besides Aisha but I’m only doing season one right now). Please ignore, I forgot her belly button. Yay.

I will remake this because wow am I not proud

Below the cut is some thoughts as well as just discussing her character in this remake? Kinda its more just thoughts and nothing concrete

Okay, left to right lets go. I just really like cropped sweatshirts I don’t know, she just seems like she’d have one. She’s supposed to be cool? I guess? I won’t lie, really I have an aesthetic in my head that I totally failed to draw or even come close to. Finals week. yay. Okay so useless belt is useless, but I do enjoy the wide legged pant even if I know that it would be nothing but swish swish swish down the hall of magic school and that's hilarious to me. Also if you look hard enough (please don’t) You’ll see a magic airpod. That is an addition at midnight while I think about Thoreau’s Resistance to Civil Government.

Fair form is pretty basic, not my best and pretty boring but it is my belief that as they grow more powerful their forms become intricate as they can spend more magic on it, and as she is rebelling and tasting freedom I guess she’s trying stuff out? I don’t know why there's a window that was actually an accident (I got my wires crossed trying to draw spider ham as the pig miraculous with a b00b window) but I do like her design, its not my favorite and I’d change a lot of it in hindsight but still, I wanted it to be simple with hints of complexity. She has basic fairy wings with a gradient, yay.

Last outfit is admittedly like a chilling around the dorms outfit, meant to be just basic and comfy? Its on old band T-shirt from earth featuring rather unknown band 10,000 Angels (not a real band I just thought itd be neat) that Bloom was once a huge fan of. She gave Musa the shirt because Musa became a fan of em when checking out what Bloom had saved on her phone because bonding dammit let me have this. Its kind of worn and not made of material common in the magic realm but honestly its a different kind of rebellion (you see the only character trait I understand in her? You see me push it to the annoying extreme?)

Also her favorite color is yellow. Let her wear yellow!

Okay a few other notes. I’d imagine she’d have larger ears than most fairies, more bat like than anything. While Stella’s are long and pointed hers are more meant to pic up sound. As well as she grows older they become more prominent and her hearing grows. I forgot to add but her nails are naturally sharp and tough as well as her teeth (she got shark chompers). She really doesn’t have a passive effect on the environment around her, but her voice is notably easier to hear in a crowd and much louder.

Her character in this reboot isn’t really explored, so far. I really want to because she is shown to be the passionate hot heat of the group, compared to Bloom’s stubborn emotional fury. Where Bloom is sudden outbursts and regret, Musa is a prolonged argumentative anger, willing to push buttons to win. Its a bad trait really and she does tend to take things personally, she’s rather self conscious even if she is a self proclaimed rebel simply because she is afraid someone will take it from her.

Overall, she is emotional and tries to be tough, and bonds with Bloom and Tecna as they all struggle with their own emotional issues (Bloom as it pertains to her magic, Tecna to not having experience with other’s emotions, and Musa with loss and general personal issues). Still she is witty and while argumentative, quite cheerful to be with her friends. She is unafraid to get in someone’s face and paired with Stella she is prepared to help defend her friends against the world.

Also I’d have her break up for good with Riven. Fully. I understand getting back together, she’d afraid of being left or abandoned again and is emotionally vulnerable. She relies heavily on those she trusts so its hard to lose one of those people (or Riven in this case). But its to the point (and like with Bloom and Sky), that due to experiences and events they are not emotionally mature enough or have not has enough personal growth to care for both themselves and another. It seems they constantly argue and fight and are unable to communicate and I think, that after enough development of Musa and Riven growing as characters with their own issues, that they should leave eachother for good.

But hey its my opinion whatever, just don’t get me started on Bloom and Sky.

Also she likes musicals, she’d adore high school musical no I do take criticism.

#winx club #Winx #winx musa #my art #winx club redesign #winx redesign #character redesign

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awkwardnessandbaseball · 5 years ago

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So, now that we’re here, at the second to last chapter, I thought it might be time to let you know that there will be a companion piece! I’ve written a few key scenes from Killian’s POV to be posted after this story is complete! YAY!!!!!!

Once again, so many thanks to: @cspupstravaganza, @sherlockianwhovian, @lassluna

Tag list: @quirkykayleetam, @squidvisious, @carpedzem, @kmomof4, @revanmeetra87, @capnjay21

AO3 if that’s your jam: Prologue | Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7

I’d Pick You (and Your Little Dog, Too)

A Captain Swan Pupstravaganza Story

Summary: According to everyone in the known universe, Emma Nolan’s dog is supposed to lead her to her soulmate. But she’s not even sure if she wants that. Soulmates are pretty idealistic, don’t you think?

Chapter Six:

Emma isn’t surprised when David walks into the station starry-eyed on a Thursday in the spring. She knows he proposed to Mary Margaret the night before, and Emma knows -- knew before David even bought the ring -- the answer was yes.

There’s never been any question for the two of them. David knew before Mary Margaret even adopted Charming. He knew that the fourth grade teacher at Storybrooke Elementary with the big eyes and the bigger heart was it for him. She made his heart stutter and his mouth run dry before she even said a single word to him.

Emma’s happy for David, truly. She’s long since forgotten her fears about heartbreak when it comes to her brother and his soulmate. She is not, however, excited about what comes out of his mouth after he tells her the news.

“She wants you to be her maid of honor.”

“What?!” Emma winces at the high pitch of her voice. “I’m… I barely… why?”

David smirks at her. It’s the same face he made when he had to spell out the fact that Killian should move in with her. Smug bastard.

“Mary Margaret doesn’t know a lot of people here, you know. And you’re also her brother’s soulmate. And her soulmate’s sister.” He’s started ticking off reasons on his fingers. He raises a fourth finger, opening his mouth, but Emma stops him.

“Okay, okay, fine. I get it. It’s just… maid of honor?” Emma drops her head into her hands. “That means planning stuff like a bridal shower and a bachelorette party, doesn’t it? That’s a lot. I barely know the woman myself, I don’t even--”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about any of that.” David’s smirk morphs into a full-on smile. “We’re getting married in two weeks.”

“What?!” Emma screeches again.

“We don’t want to wait anymore! We just want to… be married.” David’s gone wistful now, surely imagining lots of little Nolan babies running around their little loft apartment.

“How are you planning to put together an entire ceremony in two weeks?” Emma crosses her arms over her chest, eyebrows nearly into her hairline now.

“We’re going to City Hall,” David says with a shrug.

Emma’s still skeptical.

“I don’t know her very well, but Mary Margaret seems the type to want a big wedding, with all of her family, and lots and lots of flowers.”

David rolls his eyes.

“Yes, you’re right. But we just want to be married now. We can have another ceremony later with all of that stuff.”

“So now I have to be Maid of Honor twice?”

“Yes.” David’s firm answer leaves no more room for complaints. This is important to him, clearly. He doesn’t ask Emma for much, and really, this isn’t even an imposition. She loves Mary Margaret, loves her for David especially. She’s just never really had a friend close enough to warrant a bridesmaid conversation, nevermind Maid of Honor.

Besides, most of her friends haven’t even bothered to tie the knot. They’re just… together.

"If it helps," David adds, "Killian's my best man."

“Fine,” Emma agrees with an eyeroll, but there’s a smile on her face, too.

****

For only having two weeks to plan what Emma has begun thinking of as The Wedding of the Century, David and Mary Margaret have done a lovely job. Mary Margaret found a beautiful, if simple, white dress that also came in light blue, so she bought the matching one for Emma to wear. She’s got a small bouquet of silk hydrangeas, the color almost identical to Emma’s dress. There’s a matching flower tucked into David’s tux.

Charming and Rascal wear collars of the same blue, and they’ve somehow finagled flower crowns onto Princess and Procella. It’s all very cute, and it makes Emma just a little bit sick, but also warms her heart just a tad.

And Killian.

Emma had suspected that her boyfriend would clean up nicely. She’d asked him not to shave -- loves his scruff too much -- and he’s listened. His own boutonnière brings out the color in his eyes, making them shine even more brightly than normal. And when they meet Emma’s from across the makeshift aisle at City Hall, they darken just a bit.

He watches her, intently, throughout the entire ceremony. And she watches him watching her. She’s overly self-conscious, but not enough to control her surprisingly emotional reactions. She bites her lip while David says his vows, a mixture of pride and something else she can’t quite name. And when the officiant instructs David and Mary Margaret to kiss for the first time as a couple, a couple of tears fall.

She’ll deny it later, but they’d hired a photographer, so she knows there’s proof.

Damn.

They invite all of their friends to a small reception at Granny’s. She’s cleared out all of the center tables and given them full control of the jukebox. David plays about fifteen slow songs in a row, and normally Emma would be griping, but… it’s so hard to complain about anything when Killian’s holding her with one arm around her waist, his prosthetic hand lingering at the small of her back. She glances towards her brother, who hasn’t stopped staring at his wife since the officiant announced her as such. Killian squeezes her hand, bringing her attention back to his face.

“I wanted to give you something,” he says, looking unsure for the first time all day. “Can we step outside?”

Emma worries for a moment, unsure of what he could possibly have to give her and why he looks so concerned, but she follows him regardless. It’s chilly outside, now that night has fallen, and he drapes his leather jacket around her shoulders.

“Emma, I don’t think it’s any secret that we’re meant to be, right?” He glances at her, still wary, even after all this time, that she’ll deny the fact that they’re soulmates. She nods, unsure where this is going. “It’s just… we never talk about it, and that’s fine. But today, watching David and Mary Margaret get married and take that next step, it sort of got me thinking.” There’s the ear scratch Emma has been waiting for. He reaches into his pocket, and her eyes bug out of her head.

“Killian, I don’t--”

“Calm down, Swan, I’m not proposing.”

The nickname calms her down more than the words. Ever since he’d learned her mother’s maiden name, Swan, he’s taken to referring to her as such, claiming it ‘suits her’ more than Nolan, and that it has more of a ring to it. She doesn’t care why he uses the name, but she does love the way it rolls off his tongue.

Love.

She’s been thinking the word more frequently recently, in relation to Killian. It’s never I love you, but rather that she loves some part of him, some habit of his. She doesn’t love him, not yet.

Does she?

Does he?

“This was my brother’s ring,” he’s saying now, pulling a large ring out of his pocket. It’s on a chain, one that’s clearly well-worn, far from the shiny silver she suspects it once was. “And I’d like you to have it.” He finally meets her eyes.

“Your brother… are you sure?” Emma reaches out hesitantly, touching the worn edges of the ring. It feels heavy, but not in weight.

“Aye, I am. I… I love you, Emma. And this is the best way I can think to express that.”

“I love you, too.”

She does. She’s sure of it as soon as the words leave her lips. Of course, then Killian is kissing her and they’re both laughing because it’s such a simple thing -- just a few words, really -- but it’s as though they’ve been dancing on eggshells without realizing it, and as soon as they admit the truth about their feelings, the floor turns back into concrete and they’ve found their footing again.

She loves Killian Jones, and she’s going to wear his brother’s ring around her neck for the rest of her God damned life if that makes him happy.

A low whine comes from near their feet, where Rascal and Procella would apparently like some attention, please.

“Ah, I almost forgot,” Killian says as he reaches into his pocket again. Instead of another ring, he pulls out a plastic bag with two cookies. One is shaped like a ship, the other a hook. He hands the ship to Procella and the hook to Rascal. Both dogs run to lay together under a table. They share both cookies.

Killian wraps an arm around Emma’s shoulders and they watch their dogs together. It’s strange to Emma, still, that Rascal knew Procella was meant to be a part of their lives even before that beautiful little stray golden retriever chose Killian. The order of events is all sorts of backwards, but it doesn’t matter, not really. Because they’re here now. She reaches up and holds the ring steady against her chest.

******

“Hey, where have you been?” Emma asks Killian a few weeks later. He’s punctual by design, always arriving home between 5:15 and 5:30, but it’s nearly 7.

“Hmm?” He looks up at her, as though he hadn’t expected her to be home. “Oh. Work ran late. Nothing to fret over.” He finishes untying and removing his boots before stepping into the kitchen and kissing her on the cheek.

“I ordered pizza, it’s in the fridge,” she tells him. He’s acting nervous, or secretive, or some other adjective that has a negative connotation when using it to describe your normally open and honest boyfriend.

“Thanks, Swan.” He reaches in and grabs a couple of slices and gets to work wrapping them in foil and heating up the oven.

“What’s wrong with you?” Emma asks.

He finally stops moving, turns to face her.

“What do you mean?” He tries to keep his face even, she can tell, but his jaw twitches and a blush rises from his chest up to his neck. His eyes are staring just past her head, as though he thinks she won't notice.

“You’re keeping something from me, Killian. You never get home late, especially without calling. And now you won’t even look at me.”

Rascal has joined her, sitting just behind her feet and staring at Killian, matching Emma’s intensity. Killian glances between the two of them, tension obvious in the set of his shoulders. Finally, he rolls his eyes.

“You two are impossible. Come on, then.” He reaches over to turn the oven off and then slides his sneakers onto his feet. Emma stays glued to her spot in the kitchen, entirely unsure of what’s happening. “Are you coming or not?”

“Coming where?” Emma asks, but she moves towards the door and pulls her sneakers onto her feet as well.

“Can you just… trust me? Please?” He holds his hand out to her, one eyebrow raised.

She takes it, and he leads her out the door, Rascal and Procella right behind them as they climb into the car.

“Why are we here?” Emma asks, slowly extracting herself from the passenger’s seat. They’re at the docks. She comes here sometimes, though not as much in the last year or so, when she needs to think or clear her head. Ever since she’d run away as a kid and ended up here, the water has tended to calm her down when she needs it most.

Killian doesn’t answer right away. He’s watching her face, like he’s memorizing it. It’s nearly dark out, the summer sun setting behind them as they face the open water.

“I came here a lot, when I first moved to Storybrooke,” he says finally. This is news to Emma, although she’s never shared her feelings about the water with anyone but David, so she can’t fault him for keeping this to himself. That said, it still doesn’t explain his strange behavior, or what they’re doing here together right now. “The water calms me down when my mind won’t stop moving. So I came here. The very first time, I saw you.”

This gets Emma’s attention. She’d thought, all this time, that the first time they’d seen each other had been at Granny’s Diner. But apparently that was a lie.

“Oh don’t get all narrow-eyed on me, Swan. I didn’t know it was you. It was dark out, so I couldn’t tell what Rascal looked like, especially from a distance. I only figured it out recently.” He clears his throat, then reaches out for her hand. She offers it to him more out of habit than desire, but she doesn’t take it back either. “I was talking to David--”

Emma groans at that. She hates when David meddles in her life with Killian. David’s a romantic, and he wants Emma to constantly be swept off her feet, but Emma just wants things to continue as they’ve been going.

“Listen, David wanted me to propose here, but I’m not doing that, so give me a little credit here, okay?”

For the first time since Killian came home late, Emma laughs.

“Continue,” she tells him.

“I was talking to David, and he mentioned that you came here a lot after what happened with your parents. That the water seemed to do something for your nerves that he couldn’t, and then that even Rascal couldn’t.” Killian looks at her again, waiting for confirmation. Emma nods. “So that got me thinking, and that’s when I realized I saw you on my very first night in Storybrooke, out here at the docks.”

“You’re a wonderful storyteller, Killian, but I’d love for you to get to the point.” She’s smiling.

“I bought you something,” he tells her as he starts walking, finally. They reach the water and he points to a boat. “It’s just… I wasn’t sure if you’d like it. But it’s large enough to hold the two of us, plus Rascal and Procella.” He’s speaking quickly now, rambling. “I just thought that, instead of this being a sad place for us where we go when we’re feeling lonely, we could… together, I mean, come out here when we both need to get away from everything else.”

“You bought me a boat?” Emma asks quietly.

“Aye, I did.”

“How do you… how did… Dammit, Killian, you know me better than I know myself and it’s driving me insane.” She’s laughing again as she hugs him, arms thrown around his neck.

It’s a fucking boat.

“But why all the secrecy?” She releases him and eyes him skeptically. “This is an incredible surprise. Why would you want to hide it?”

“Ah, I’m renaming her.” Then, the ear scratch Emma loves so much. “I didn’t want you to see her until she was done. I just bought her today. Signed the papers and all.”

The Jewel of the Realm is painted in beautiful, if faded, lettering along the side of the boat.

“What’s wrong with the name it has?” Emma asks, but she knows it doesn’t feel right. It’s so regal and dramatic -- really better suited for people like her brother and Mary Margaret. Killian raises an eyebrow at her. “Yeah, you’re right. So, what’s the new name?”

“I was thinking about The Jolly Roger,” he says with a grin.

She loves it.

“Sounds like a pirate ship.” She bites her lip.

“Oh, I plan to do loads of pillaging and plundering while aboard this ship, my love,” he says with a kiss against her hair. A shudder goes down her spine.

“When do we set sail, Captain?”

“Not yet, I’m afraid. This,” he gestures vaguely around the docks and towards the general direction of the boat, “is why I didn’t want to tell you yet.” He looks down at her, exasperated but also with a sparkle in his eye.

“There’s something else,” she says, pointing at his chest. “There’s more to this that you’re not telling me.” It’s not accusatory. Whatever else he’s hiding isn’t a bad thing, she can tell, but there’s still something there.

“Can you let me have one thing, Swan? My God,” he groans. “It was Liam’s boat. Okay?”

Emma stops smiling.

“Liam? Your brother?”

“Aye. She ended up passing through a few hands, as he didn’t exactly have a living will or anything, but I finally tracked her down. It wasn’t cheap, but I got her here.” His ears are bright red, and he won’t look at her.

“You never talk about Liam, you know,” she says as she takes his hand hand guides it to the ring hanging from her neck. “Not even when you gave me this.”

“It was… it was a long time ago.” He swallows a thick lump in his throat.

“You don’t have to talk about it, Killian.” She reaches up and cups his cheek. “But I’m here if you want to.”

“He… it was a car accident,” Killian looks at her, gauging her reaction, as always. She gasps, realizing not for the first time how alike their lives have been at the most unexpected moments. “Same one I lost my hand in.” He holds up his left hand, as if proving something. Emma grabs it and places it on her own waist. “He’d been talking to me, trying to tell me something, I can’t remember what. I know we were fighting. It all happened so fast. He looked at me and I remember the anger in his eyes, and then someone ran the light and it was over. I woke up in the hospital.” He shrugs, trying to pretend he’s okay.

“Let’s get on the boat,” Emma whispers after a moment of silence.

“What?”

“We don’t have to go anywhere. But it’s yours, right? Have you been on it yet since it got here?”

“I did an inspection, but that’s all,” he admits.

“So let’s get on.”

They climb on, Killian’s footing much surer than Emma’s, but he guides her. Rascal and Procella have no qualms at all, hopping aboard like they’ve been on boats their entire lives. There are two seats, but once Killian settles into one, Emma perches herself in his lap. It wouldn’t be safe if they were out on the water, but they’re still tied to the docks, sitting still as the water laps around them. They all sit in silence, even the dogs.

“I love you, Emma,” Killian whispers into her shoulder.

“I love you, too.” She turns and kisses him. It’s slow at first, and then it’s not.

Emma supposes they’ll have to christen it again once it gets its new name. When she tells Killian what she’s thinking, he growls into her mouth and they don’t leave the boat until after midnight.

#captain swan #captain swan fanfic #cspupstravaganza #captain swan ff #cs fanfic #caitlin writes

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skullgrind · 6 months ago

Video

MALIGNANT ALTAR: Let's kick off the month (and mix) with our filthy DEATH METAL friends from Houston, Texas. They play it downtuned and "old school" on this demo which really is a fantastic recording. Just pure headbanging delight wiggling out of the blank void of our lives (and the cover). Yeah this has been in the mix before SO WHAT!? THERE ARE NO RULES

NOXIS: Keeping it in the YOU ESS AYE for more DEATH METAL this time out of Cleveland, Ohio. I don't really have anything nice to say about that city or state but this METAL is top notch musicianship with a lot of varied styles featured on each track. It may make your brain explode just like the skeledude on this cover art.

TRAIL OF ENTRAILS: Keeping it in the MIDWEST we got more DEATH METAL from Chicago, Illinois. Just a putrid little 3-piece cranking out these filthy jams from the basement. HEAVY production will have you eating the rotten pepperoni off the walls while you rot down there. NAME YOUR PRICE

TUMBA DE CARNE: Enough of the EWE ASS YAY we are going to Buenos Aires, Argentina for some more DEATH METAL. This stuff here is evil sounding and dissonant while keeping the ears enthralled. Also I LOVE IT when a band has a track with the same name as the act. A personal favorite of mine. Creepy cover art of the horrific moonlight graveyard ritual by Juan Manuel Lencina.

INERTH: Now let's go to Madrid, Spain for some "harsh but pondering" DEATH/DOOM METAL that has hints of INDUSTRIAL and SLUDGE sprinkled about. A sweet mélange of sounds similar to bands like NEUROSIS or GODFLESH but seasoned with all sorts of heavy and harsh sounds. WARNING - Doomy "clean" vocals at times. Descend into the blurry caverns as illustrated on this cover art by Giancarlo Melgar.

Miseries of a country obsessed With despising its memories

CONCRETE WINDS: This one here is for the BLACK/DEATH METAL sickos who love the Finnish filth. Angry, feedback laden, and uncomfortable this straddles the lines of GOREGRIND at times and I love that. Stick the metal in your earholes and scramble your brains a bit.

RÖTUAL: Closing out the mix this week with crushing DEATH/DOOM METAL from Ottawa, Ontario. Heavy and DOOM laden riffs reduce us to a scattered assortment of limbs on a desolate alien world. Space worms crawl in and out of our various orifice as we rot like this cover art by Headsplit Design.

THAT'S IT FOR THIS WEEK! LET EVERYONE KNOW WHAT YOU LIKED IN THE COMMENTS/REBLOGS AND STAY SICK!!

youtube

THE GRIND - 7/5/24 MIX (GUT FULL OF WORMS)

FRIDAY 8pm EST it’s time for your weekly dose of METAL

#skullgrind #metal #death metal #mixtape #the grind #doom metal #black metal #Bandcamp

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maandags · 5 years ago

Text

Eidolon (Angel!Keith x Demon!reader) {part ii}

im still alive! yay!

---

Summary: Keith is an angel, and he’s completed mission after mission for the Upper Hand, the organisation controlling all of the Above. He’s only failed a mission once: when he was assigned to kill you, a surprisingly charismatic demon. He roamed Earth–Middle Ground–for years before he was caught by the Upper Hand again, and things quickly go south.

Word count: 6.5K

Genre: Angst -- CW: death mention, injuries, blood, hallucinations (?)

Notes: masterlist -- {previous} -- {next} -- yall........ hes trying his best ok

-- -- --

you did not break me

i’m still fighting for peace

~ Elastic Heart, Sia

-- -- --

Keith bites his lower lip as he makes his way to your apartment. Every step sends a sharp jolt of pain up his right wing and he grimaces in pain, massaging his shoulder. The trip looked a lot shorter from where he'd been standing in the square, he thinks bitterly as he makes his way through the swirling crowd, shreds of conversation coming at him from all sides. He's actually surprised at how well he remembers the layout of the city–and how well he remembers the way to your home.

When he finally gets to the apartment building he hesitates for a moment. In the glass door he sees his reflection: black dirt coating every inch of his body, tear tracks streaking down his cheeks. His hair is an absolute mess, as if a particularly pissed-off fairy had tried to knot his hair in the most complicated ways. He tries to smooth the locks down, growling when it did nothing at all. His clothes are torn and crooked, and a wild–almost dangerous–light shines in his eyes, and he looked like he'd just escaped death itself. In a way, he had.

That's when he remembers his knife. A glance to his calf tells him everything he needs to know and he suddenly wants to cry again.

It's gone.

The knife he'd carried with him for so long, the knife that had saved him in many a sticky situation, one of the rare blades that could actually kill both angels and demons–and he'd lost it. Probably dropped it on the ground in the woods. The black straps he used to keep the knife concealed beneath his jeans served no purpose anymore. Keith bends down, ignoring the pain throbbing on his back and unclasps the sheath. Strangely, it's mostly undamaged, except for the dirt and mud that coat every inch of it. He holds it, weighing it in his hands. His leg feels oddly light without it.

Scrunching up his nose, he chucks it in the rubbish bin that stands beside the apartment entrance and pushes the door open.

He's slightly out of breath when he finally reaches your floor, cursing the weight of his wings under his breath, but his heart skips a beat when he finally arrives in front of your door.

He doesn't know what he'd expected, quite honestly. It was–well–a door. A plain white wooden door with a stainless steel doorknob and a number plate on the side; yours said 34. Bar that very number, it was completely identical to the other doors in the building. It didn't look very... well... demonic.

But then again, he hadn't really expected it to be. He takes a breath and knocks.

You open surprisingly quickly, and the sight of you makes Keith freeze up.

Your eyes are stormy and wild and widen only a fraction before they narrow down again, your lips pressing themselves into a thin line just shy of a snarl. The door is only just cracked open, and Keith can't see what's going on inside your apartment, but he forces himself to relax his muscles even though every nerve in his body is screaming at him about how wrong this is.

In the split second where no one said anything, Pidge's words of the previous day–had it really only been a day?–echoes in his ears: Is that why you need guarding every second of the day? Because you're a traitor to the Above? She would never know how right she had been, Keith thinks bitterly.

"No," you say, firmer than Keith had expected, and you cross your arms.

Keith blinks. "You don't even know what I was going to say–"

"I don't need to," you snap. "You look like you just spent a week running around in a jungle. You're probably in need of somewhere to stay. There's a shelter a couple of blocks away. You can take the underground."

"They'll find me there."

"Not my problem." You almost shut the door on him, and in a desperate attempt to keep your attention on him just a minute more he stumbles forward and slams his hand against the frame. You freeze and Keith notices how your muscles tense up–as if you were preparing yourself for a fight.

"Y/N."

You look at him now, eyes pools of swirling fire laced through with hatred, fear–but Keith also thinks he sees something like doubt, and he latches onto that with all his might.

"I need your help. Please." He takes a ragged breath. "I don't have anywhere else to go."

You close your eyes, fingers tightening around the doorknob. When you open them again, all sign of the doubt he'd seen before is gone, a grim determination having taken its place. "No."

That single word is enough to stun Keith into letting go of the doorframe, sending him swaying back. His thoughts are racing, emotions coursing through his body–most prominent of all the absolute terror of the fact that he was going to die. He was going to get found by the Upper hand, and they were going to kill him, and he was going to die. He'd just fucked up his last chance at staying alive a little bit longer.

He almost protests again, opens his mouth–then shuts it, and lets his head hang, sighing deeply. There's no point. You've made up your mind.

Your voice is quiet as you say it. If there had been a single other sound in the hallway, he most definitely would have missed it. But it's dead silent, and so he hears it: "Never ask a demon for help, Keith. You're only going to get yourself hurt."

His head snaps up, but the door is closed. It's like you've never been there at all.

He brings a hand to his face, turns and starts down the stairs again, every step sending a bolt of pain down his back. He flinches against the pain. Doesn't slow.

What was it again you said about a shelter?

The Kindness for All Adults and Children's shelter is a small organization located on the corner of a dark street, easy to miss if you don't know where to look. Except Keith did know where to look, so he found it just fine. He knocks on the glass door, is immediately let in by a short and stern-looking woman (but with kind eyes) and ten minutes later he's sitting on a stool (he's careful to avoid anything to rest his wings against, because even though he concealed them, they're still there) and a blanket puddled in his lap (again. Wings), sipping on a mug of hot tea.

Isabel–the woman who let him in–enters the room, frowning at Keith's dirty boots and overall grossness. "Honey, you'd better take those off. If you'd wait a bit, we have shower hour in just–" she glances at her wristwatch– "twenty-three minutes. We have a couple of other fellas here; hope you don't mind communal showers." She gives him a scrutinising look, and Keith has to fight the sudden urge to straighten his spine and salute. "You look like you need one."

Keith takes a long sip of his tea, rolling his shoulder. His stomach lurches at the mention of a shower. He does need one: he reeks of rotten plants and he's pretty sure he has multiple cuts on his legs and arms that probably need cleaning before they get infected. He didn't bother to check.

But staying here would only get these people in danger, and that was about the last thing he wants. The Upper hand was going to find out one way or another of his whereabouts. Now that he couldn't rely on your protection–he hadn't realised how much he'd just assumed you would take him in, no questions asked (stupid, stupid; he saw that now) to the point where he had no idea what his next move was going to be. He had made a huge mistake doing whatever it was that got him onto Middle Ground and he was paying the price for it now.

Besides–he couldn't fully hide his wings; not with the injury. He didn't want to have to think about what would happen if one of the other guys in the shelter saw a cut-up, bruised, dirty dude wash blood and earth off his body while water slid off a shape hovering above his back that looked suspiciously like wings.

"I won't be staying, Isabel," he finally mutters, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

The older woman frowns, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. "Are you sure?"

Keith nods, setting his mug down beside him and getting up from his chair, bunching the soft fabric of the blanket in his hands. "I'm sure. Thank you for your care."

"But–but where will you stay, then?" The edge of worry to Isabel's voice almost makes Keith smile. Humans... some of them were even more rotten than demons, but thankfully even more were better than the purest angel could ever be.

"I'll find a motel or something," he lies. He didn't have money. He didn't have anywhere to go. "I'll be fine." He sounds so convincing he almost believes it himself.

As he curls up on a particularly comfortable spot of hard concrete, Keith nibbles on a piece of bread he'd nicked from the nearest bakery. It hadn't even been hard. He probably should feel bad. He almost does. His stomach growls even after he'd scarfed down the bread. Angels shouldn't have to eat, he thinks bitterly. And in a sense, they didn't–but everyone had to bend to the rules of Middle ground to a certain extent. Having to eat and drink to, you know, live, is one of those rules.

A bottle of water sits beside him, half empty. It was the last gesture of kindness Isabel showed him before he'd exited the shelter and he knows he has to be careful with it and not drink it all at once, even though it was tempting. He also got to keep the blanket, and he wraps it around his shivering body now, and although it hadn't been designed for an angel and it's kind of small to fit both his body and his wings he made it work, and he's grateful for the warmth it provided in the chilly night, however little it may be.

The city buzzes around him, lights flashing and illuminating his surroundings every so often. He'd managed to find a building that looked pretty quiet and not the worst place to spend the night in–big, made mostly of concrete and red bricks, apparently abandoned years ago. It looks like it used to be a factory of some kind. Graffiti tags litter its walls, from stupid vulgarities to surprisingly intricate artworks Keith observes with a kind of admiration. They give him a strange sense of safety, somehow. You're not alone, the colourful letters seem to whisper in the dark. The wall he chose to make his hoe is decorated with a particularly interesting piece. It's different from the others, somehow–he doesn't exactly know what drew him to it, but with his back to the paint he feels a little better.

Now that he's sitting there, the outside noises faded into the background, he has time to think. Really think. Mostly about how he's going to survive the next... next what, exactly? Weeks? Months? Years, maybe, like last time?

He sets his jaw, huddling up even more in his blanket. No. He had to make sure this wouldn't be anything like last time, because he got caught last time. It wouldn't happen again.

The best way to avoid an angry and very powerful group of celestial beings was by constantly moving. Never spending more than a few nights in the same place. Changing the way you look, changing the name you go by. Hiding your wings (that one might be an issue). Not, under any circumstances, performing magic of any kind. And, most importantly, not standing out among the people.

If you want to hide among humans, you have to fool everyone into thinking you are one.

That was probably how you had made it so long, Keith reflects, ears perking up at the sound of water dripping onto a metal surface. It echoes around him. That, or you had managed to reconcile with the big guys from the Below. maybe you'd started doing missions again. Maybe that was why you couldn't take him in. You feared for your own safety.

Or maybe you just didn't want anything to do with him, Keith reminds himself. He screws his eyes shut, softly banging the back of his head on the wall behind him. How he had managed to hold onto the hope that a demon–a perfectly real demon–would be the one to save him was completely beyond him. He sees now how truly stupid he had been. There was no mistaking the fire he'd seen in your eyes for anything other than what it was: hatred. Pure and utter hatred. They're a demon, Keith mutters to himself like a mantra. They're a demon. A demon. It's his fault and his fault only that he's in the spot he's in. His fault.

And yet, he can't get the image of your eyes blazing up at him through that crack in the doorway out of his head. On the back of his eyelids, he sees the vision he had of you right before he'd exited the Above–your eyes had been swirling pools of and black devoid of any emotion, so different to what he'd seen earlier this evening.

Because there had been emotion in your eyes. It had been sort of a shock to him and he recalls how he'd flinched back at their glint. He doesn't know why your eyes affected him so much. They shouldn't have.

But the difference was so stark–and, in a way, almost unsettling–that he couldn't for the life of him banish the image from his mind.

– – –

You sag on your favourite bench, ripping pieces off a stale loaf of bread and chucking them into the pond for the ducks to eat with more force than necessary. You're in a foul mood this morning, you realise, and it's all you can do to scowl at the ducks and scream internally about how much of a moron Keith the Angel really is.

You'd called Allura. Of course you'd called Allura. You hadn't explained to her exactly what had gotten you worked up–maybe it wasn't the best idea to tell a human about the existence of angels and demons–but you'd asked her to meet you at the park. You hadn't needed to say where. Allura knew.

Here she comes, you think, and you drip even further down the bench when you spot the tall girl skipping towards you, her silver ponytail whipping in the wind. She holds two cups of what you recognise as coffee and a smile creeps up your face. Allura, Allura. I don't deserve Allura.

"Gimme." You stretch out an arm and sigh contently when Allura deposits a steaming cup of coffee into your open pal. "I love you and only you."

"I know, dear," Allura croons, graciously draping herself onto the bench next to you and sipping her own cup. "So what's got your panties in a twist today?"

If the question had been asked by anyone other than Allura you would probably have snarled at them to mind their business, but it hadn't, so you didn't. You sigh, handing the leftover bread to her. She starts cooing at the ducks, pitching pieces of bread to them surprisingly accurately. "It's just... I got a rather unexpected visitor yesterday."

Allura's eyes widen. "Greg from Accounting. I told you he's got a thing for you–"

You cut her off with a whack on the back of her head, but you can't hold back the giggles anymore. "No! No, you moron, not Greg from Accounting."

She pouts. "Who then?"

You bite your lip, taking a long sip of your coffee. It's then that you discover that the drink is actually hot chocolate, and you silently thank the Devil for the one good thing in your life as the warmth spreads through your entire system. Still, you hesitate if you should tell her. It'd only bring up more questions, and you don't know how you'll answer them because you have a ton of questions of your own.

"An old acquaintance of mine," you finally muse. You pause, frowning, unsure of how to continue. "I only vaguely know him." You don't know him, you remind yourself firmly. You don't know how he figured out where you live, too–but your questions had to wait, though you had a faint feeling you'd get the answer to them soon. It wouldn't surprise you if you were to run into him once more.

You look over at Allura. She raises an eyebrow, her coffee forgotten and her hand gone slightly slack. "... And you have no idea why he showed up at your door?"

You shake your head. But deep down you did know why he was there: he'd needed help. He was terrified and hurt and alone and he'd come to you for help. Even after you had told him to go away, the encounter had left you awake into the early hours of the morning as you rolled in your bed, getting your limbs tangled in the sheets.

You still don't know why you were so worked up over it. You were a demon, first of all–a rogue demon at that. You were busy trying to avoid the Below's own Managers ever since you'd failed one of their missions and decided that the average demon's life just wasn't for you, and you'd done a fine job of it so far. Taking an angel in could put all of that in jeopardy. Everything you'd worked for–it could all go up in smoke.

You have a life here, now. You have a job at the local animal shelter (not very demonic–but you'd noticed it was harder for Management to pick up your trail when you smelled of animals. Besides, you like the job). You even have a couple of friends: Allura was a prime example of that, and in a way she represented everything you could lose should you have chosen to help the confused Angel who had knocked on your door the day before.

"What'd he want?" she asks, and you start.

"I don't–I don't know," you lie, fingers curled around your practically-full cup of not-so-hot-anymore chocolate. "He didn't say."

Allura squints at you, pitching the last of the bread to the ducks. You watch as at least six of them frantically paddle towards the sinking bread, squawking as they try to get hold of at least a small part of it. Discomfort lodges in your chest when the bread is ripped to shreds in a flurry of flapping wings and spraying water. "I think you're lying to me."

Your eyes widen and you open your mouth, but Allura cuts you off. "It's okay. I know you don't like to talk about your past, and I'm not going to force you to do so," she says in between sips. "It's just–you've told me about how you cut off all ties with people you knew from before you came here. Would this dude have gone through all the trouble of finding out where you live, seeking you out in particular when he knows you don't want anything to do with him anymore if it wasn't serious?"

"I don't care, though," you say, pulling your sleeves down onto your hands. You sound like a whiny child throwing a temper tantrum. "I don't want to know what's got him here. Nothing can be so serious for him to come to me of all people. It makes no sense."

"All right, all right." There's a moment of silence as Allura drains the last of her coffee. "You have the week off, right?"

You nod, even though you plan on going to the shelter anyway. Better safe than sorry.

"There's a party in the old abandoned factory in two days. Wanna come?" The twinkle in Allura's eyes should have warned you that the night was going to get messy. But you'd never been one to deny yourself a bit of fun, and hey–maybe you could even throw up some graffiti on your wall while you were there. Allura knows she has you when you start to grin.

– – –

The cans in your duffel bag make clattering noises with the swaying of the underground. You grab onto a pole to stabilise yourself, sending a cautious look around you. This particular subway ride was quieter than you'd liked, with everyone either on their phone or staring out of the window, headphones on, but nobody seemed to hear the suspicious sounds coming from your bad. That, or they just plain didn't care.

The city was big, and there were a lot of factories around, but Allura hadn't had to specify which one, because it always was the same one. It had shut down years and years ago. No one knew why. No one knew what it used to be–the signs were all worn and unreadable. Most importantly, no one cared. There were lots of little rooms. A few big rooms with high ceilings. Clean, concrete walls perfect for graffiti. It hadn't been long before the young folk of the city had claimed it as their own.

You duck out of the subway as soon as the doors hiss open, jogging with your hands shoved in your hoodie pocket and your headphones hanging around your neck, making your way to the factory. You don't go in immediately, making sure to walk past it before you skirt back and sneak in through a hole in the fence at the back. Cheap trick, you know–but it had saved you many a times from getting spotted, because you were technically not allowed to go in there.

Allura waits for you a couple of rooms away from your wall. She's smiling, long red skirt billowing around her legs, and holds out an arm for you to take. She starts chattering before you've even properly entered the building, stepping over suspicious-looking stains and discarded beer cans. You'd asked her to come a bit earlier so you had time to at least make a start on a new design that you'd sketched out the same morning. Allura plops down onto a slab of stone (probably supposed to have become a bench) and props her chin onto her palm. "You have maybe an hour, babe." You give her a side-eyed glance as you set down your duffel, zipping it open.

You shake the can, cocking your head to visualise the piece on the wall. Your sketchbook is propped up against the wall, for reference. You stand there for a couple of minutes, shaking the can of red paint in an almost hypnotic motion before you take a step towards the wall and push the valve.

Slowly, the lines you put down start to take shape and form something more. The design is pretty simple, yet you work faster on this than you ever have on any other piece. It's as if you're racing against the clock, and you need to get it done or it'll disappear. The two silhouettes take shape: one white, one black, facing each other in a mirror image of themselves and red wings sprouting from their backs. You purposely approach the can of red paint to the wall to make drips. When you step back, it looks eerily like blood.

As you work, you try to banish the thoughts that worm themselves inside your mind. An angel. A demon. How much more obvious did you have to be? As much as you want to forget about him, you find that you just... couldn't. You feel sick in the stomach all of a sudden, but you bite your tongue and squint hard against the tears that threaten to fall, pressing down hard on the can.

You had already refused. It was done. You repeat those sentences over and over until you start to believe them.

When you're satisfied with the base layer, you check the time. You have maybe twenty minutes left. You shove the cans back into your duffel, grabbing the small paint container you always carry with you and the paintbrushes.

You like the way spray paint and regular paint look together in the same piece. It's the small thing that sets you apart from the other artist whose work cover the walls, the small details you add in with black paint that make your work really stand out. You get paint on your hands. You don't care.

It's weird how an hour can pass in ten minutes. Allura taps you on the arm. "It's starting." It is. Music drifts through the door-less doorway, closely followed by laughter and chatter. You nod, packing in the paint and the brush and taking off your mask. You were practically done anyway, and when you look over your shoulder one last time before following Allura to the party, you feel a burst of pride.

The warm feeling quickly disappears, though, when you notice something you hadn't seen before.

A grey blanket, stuffed into the far corner grabs your attention and you frown. The fingers around your bag's straps tightening, you walk to the corner and crouch down. There wasn't much else besides the blanket–yet it made you uncomfortable enough to pick it up and inspect it from closer.

Out of the blanket, two black feathers fluttered down.

Anyone else would merely have thought it weird, but wouldn't have thought much of it. They'd have laughed and moved on.

You, though, weren't just anyone else.

You'd recognise an angel's feathers anywhere.

You make a sound that's a mix between a sigh and a groan. You don't even try to pick up the feathers, knowing they'll turn to ashes if you try. Running a hand down your face, you consider your options–but you know that there really aren't any options to consider. If he's here, and he's found by the partygoers–he can't conceal his wings properly, you recall from a few days ago.

You heave a pained sigh. The risk is too big.

"Y/N?" Allura calls, irritation staining her voice. "You coming or what?"

You stand, clenching a hand around the blanket and stuffing it in your duffel without a second thought, sighing once more for good measure. "Sorry, Allura. I can't."

"What?" cries Allura, face falling and shoulders going slack. "Why?"

You shake your head, eyes scanning the room. If he heard you and Allura come (which he would have, with Allura's chattering echoing through the building), he couldn't have left through the main door, which meant he had to have gone through either the crack in the wall on your left or the big hole that you knew led to the empty staircase to the second level of the building. The bigger hole is probably your best bet, you reason.

"Sorry," you tell Allura, and you hope she understands that you really are sorry. "I'll explain later." But you flinched even as you said the words. Explain what, exactly? You feel yourself slipping back into your old skin: one tainted with memories of fighting, hunting, and betrayal.

When you turn around again, Allura is gone.

Setting your jaw, you duck into the hole and into the dark staircase.

– – –

Keith presses a hand against his side, panting and flinching against the pain.

Noise is coming from all around him. He hears music, people laughing, people talking, people screaming. It seems to come from the walls themselves, and grows louder with every passing second. He needs to move, but these last few days have been hard on him–his wing has gotten worse, to the point where he can't conceal them at all anymore. He's losing feathers, leaving a trail of them behind him wherever he goes.

His other cuts–the ones he dismissed as not being very dangerous–have grown red and swollen and hurt when he puts any type of pressure on them. Infection, the one part of his brain that still somewhat works whispers.

He hasn't eaten since that loaf of bread the first night, and his bottle of water is long since empty. In fact, he spends most of his time slipping in and out of consciousness, living and reliving horrible nightmares that have him jump awake and gasp for breath as he wipes tears from his cheeks that he doesn't remember shedding.

Even in his feverish state, he knows he has to keep moving. There has to be a place in this building where he can huddle up and wait for the people to go away. There has to be a spot where he can wait it out. He stumbles his way up the stairs, one hand gripping the railing as if it's the only thing keeping him upright. Sometimes he has to stop for a minute to catch his breath, clutching his stomach and coughing his lungs out.

He wanders through the upper level of the building. It's somehow cleaner than downstairs, with less graffiti staining the walls and less rubbish littering the floor. Guess it's not an ideal place to party, in plain view of the city, Keith thinks. He chooses a particularly comfortable-looking spot in a small room–too small to be an actual room, more likely a broom closet–to curl up on. Before his head hits the ground, he's asleep again.

– – –

You curse the angel's apparent stamina as you climb the apparently unending stairs, skipping one out of two steps as you race up them, your bag bouncing on your back. Every once in a while you glance down, looking for a feather. He was leaving a trail of them behind, a sign his condition was worsening.

"Swear–to Satan–" you mutter, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. It may not have been warm, but running up a set of stairs for ten minutes was bound to make anyone sweat like it's thirty degrees and the sun is beating down on you.

You get to the top level and groan.

This part of the factory is relatively untouched, you know, because it was so easily seen from other parts of the city and there had already been people who had gotten caught by the police. But what that means is lots and lots of rooms you didn't know to explore, looking for on single guy who could, if he wanted, avoid you until you gave up. All it would take is a better knowledge of the place.

So you get to work.

You search as quietly as possible, as to not give yourself away, tiptoeing from one room to the other, making sure to check each and every dark corner. You don't need a flashlight: the city's lights have turned on, and the moon shines brightly in the sky, casting a cool light on everything it can reach through the windows. You silently thank the obnoxious city lights.

After ten minutes of checking rooms, you start to grow impatient and slightly worried. What if you're wrong? What if the feathers are already days old, and he isn't here anymore? What if you do find him–but you're too late? You shake your head, not wanting to think about it.

And what if you find him and he needs help? Even more than when he initially came to you?

You haven't even fully thought about that. When you did find him, you couldn't do anything else than bring him home with you, could you? You hesitate, slowing your pace and carding a hand through your hair, scanning the walls as if looking for an answer there. It isn't too late to turn back, a voice in the back of your mind whispers.

You can just go back downstairs, join the party. Make up some bullshit excuse to Allura as to why you left so suddenly.

You almost do. The thought of just leaving it–letting everything run its course normally without you interfering–is so tempting...

But then you hear a string of coughs coming from the room on your right and your legs carry you there before you can protest. When you see the shape on the floor, all you can say is "Oh shit."

It's him, all right. Unconscious, lying face down on the dirty floor of an abandoned factory, all curled up like a little newborn angel. He's shivering, you notice when you crouch down by his side. You put a trembling hand on his forehead and hiss through your teeth. He's burning up, the skin slick with sweat and his hair sticking to his forehead in a tangled mess.

"Okay," you whisper, getting on your knees and covering your face with your hands, taking a deep breath. "Okay, all right."

His chest rises and falls, though irregularly and barely noticeable–but he's breathing. He's still alive. You frown at his wings (they're all dirty and dusty and it makes you icky–it's a known fact that the state of your wings reflect your health) and wonder about how in the name of the Below you're going to get him out of there unnoticed. He's not exactly inconspicuous. You'll probably have to carry him.

You tap his cheek. He groans. You keep tapping until he cracks open an eye, and even then you have to coerce him into opening both eyes. They're unfocused and murky and filled with confusion and fear, but he's awake.

"Hey. Do you think you can sit up?" you ask softly.

He tries–you can tell he puts all the strength left in him to push himself up, inch by painful inch. You try to help him as best as you can, but even then he's panting with his eyes closed as he rests his head against the wall.

Then you remember your water bottle. Scrambling for your bag, you yank it out and unscrew the cap, slowly tipping it into his mouth. "Careful, careful," you mutter when he tries to take the bottle from your hands and starts taking bigger gulps, a bit of strength seeping into his system with every drop. "It's not good to drink so much after days of dehydration."

His eyes finally seem to focus on your face, and he frowns. "Y-Y/N?"

You only smile tightly in response. He blinks sluggishly. “But you–”

“I know, I know,” you mutter, running a hand across your face. “I’m probably going to regret this a lot. But I just…” You cast him a tired look. “I couldn’t just let you die.”

“Huh,” he whispers sheepishly, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. The small gesture is so strangely out of place that you just gape at him for a few seconds, only shaken out of your stupor when he doubles over and proceeds to hack a lung out coughing. You start, grabbing hold of his shoulders to steady him and whisper encouragement as he takes a few ragged breaths.

“Hey. I’m gonna get you out of here, all right? But you need to be able to conceal your wings. I can carry you, but you have to be able to do that for me, okay?” You speak to him in a low, rushed tone, only able to hope that he can grasp how important it is for the two of you to not be spotted all the way to your apartment. He sets his jaw and nods, weakly grabbing at your shoulders for support as he tries to hoist himself up.

“Okay, all right.” He’s standing now, still woozy and swaying slightly, but he’s standing. “There we go. Hide your wings.”

He closes his eyes. His brow furrows in concentration, beads of sweat beading on his forehead. His wings flicker in and out of sight twice before completely disappearing. “Okay, awesome. You’re doing great.”

You awkwardly lead him down the stairs, one arm around his chest and under his armpits as he steadies himself on the railing, muttering encouragement every couple of steps. His wings flickered twice more, and every time you almost had a heart attack–if he couldn’t keep them hidden when you were in the city, in full view of hundreds of people… you didn’t want to think about it.

When you reach the building entrance, you debate briefly in your head what your options are. You could walk back to your apartment, but that would take over forty-five minutes and you weren’t sure if the angel could keep his wings concealed for that long. But the other option would be to take the subway and risk someone seeing you and starting to ask questions.

Then again–it was almost midnight. Most people wouldn’t be out on the streets right now, and it was dark, and the ones who would be out would be exhausted and only wanting to get back to their own homes. With a little luck, you could find an empty subway cart. The ride home would be seven minutes long.

“C’mon,” you say quietly, tugging on the angel’s sleeve. He’s leaning heavily against you–but he’s walking on his own and that’s better than you could have hoped for. “The station is that way.”

The cart is almost empty, bar a teenager with bags under their eyes the colour of charcoal. They barely give you a glance as you stumble into the cart with the angel, only pulling up their hood and crossing their arms, pointedly looking out of the window. You don’t mind in the slightest. They probably think the angel is just shitfaced drunk, you think as you set him down on a seat–maybe a little rougher than necessary. He flinches. You feel only a bit sorry.

You had given him your sweatshirt before you left the factory, and now you rub your own arms up and down against the chill biting at the skin. You scowl, sinking down into the seat, wondering what in the name of all that is demonic was wrong with you to have made the choices that you did. Taking the angel in could very well be the cause of your capture. Hiding a demon amongst humans wasn’t so hard, but a demon and an angel… That would prove to be a challenge.

But then again, you think as you cast a sideways glance at the angel who passed out as soon as his butt had hit the subway seat (he looks strangely serene in the flimsy yellow light cast upon the seats–you could almost believe he’s merely asleep), you had never been one to turn down a challenge.

#keith x reader #keith vld x reader #keith voltron x reader #vld keith #voltron keith #vld keith x reader #voltron keith x reader #vld keith kogane #voltron keith kogane #vld keith kogane x reader #voltron keith kogane x reader #vld fic #voltron fic #vld fanfic #voltron fanfic #sorry it took so long!!!!!#i'll try and get the next ones out faster!!#the words just didn't want to go right for a while!!

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venus-says · 5 years ago

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Kamen Rider OOO Episodes 01-16

I never expected a show aimed at boys would have THIS many scenes centered around male underwear.

The second series on my "watch all of kamen rider" madness! Yay!

The first word that comes to my mind when it comes to OOO is: weird. But it's not weird in a bad way, for the most of it anyway. I'll try best to not make many comparisons to either W or Zero-One, but just as a point of reference for this first statement, I'll mention them for a minute. W and Zero-One touch bases that I'm familiar with (detective stories, futuristic settings, etc.) while OOO is somewhat completely new to me so most of the time I wasn't ready for some of the things that were happening. But like I said, this is a good thing. I really enjoyed watching this first part, it had a few stumbles, but overall it was a great experience. To bring the comparison again, I didn't enjoy it as much as W's first part but I enjoyed it more than I'm enjoying this first third of Zero-One.

The plot of this season is quite interesting, it reminds me of Doki Doki Precure at some points (you can really draw the parallel of selfishness and altruism in both shows), though I wish some things had been established sooner and I feel like the thing with the core medals is a bit confusing, the plot is very engaging. They took a page from W's book, and most of the "weekly cases" are dealt in two episodes, but they also improve in this formula because even in the MOTW plots we can see the overall arc being formed and no episode was left without a hook for the next what makes the whole experience way better and more interesting to follow. If I was watching this weekly this structure would definitely make me excited to always get back to this season, and watching it now after the show is over makes me want to binge-watch everything in one sitting even though that's impossible. So, great stuff.

If there are things I don't like about the plot and the structure it would be, the weird commercial breaks, some of the weekly stories have characters that make them very weak, the many antagonist forces that make things feel overcrowded at times, and a problem I have with most shows when a new hero is about to come in that is when the show makes the protagonists weaker/less effective just to highlight how good the new member of the cast is. But that aside, I pretty much like everything. The comedy, the absurdness, the drama, and the action have had a very good balance so far so OOOs hold many positive points to its name.

Talking about characters, our main protagonist this time, Eiji, while not as charismatic as I would like is still a sweetheart. His lifestyle is a bit questionable, and he has a bit of the Aida Mana syndrome where he gives himself way too much sometimes, also the show doesn't make a good job on keeping his clothes on brand - I mean the dude apparently has only two underwear and one pair of pants but somehow he has many top options and we never know where he keeps all those shirts and tunics - but I really like him. I think what I like the most about him is that at first glance he could seem like the standard "dumb protagonist" but he's actually pretty smart and his smartness doesn't affect his emotional drive which is great.

Sadly his partners on the good side aren't as good. Ankh has a very difficult personality which makes him VERY hard to like, every time he opens up his mouth to babble about his medals I just wanna shove 30 popsicles on his mouth to make him shut up. My biggest problem with him is that we haven't seen him change not even for a bit in all of these episodes and I'm afraid that when they decide to make an emotional climax with him it won't work as well and it'll just ruin what could be a strong moment. Though I love how Eiji knows exactly how to keep him in check, that's another sign of how great Eiji is. Accompanying Ankh we have Hina who's just boring as hell, I don't know if this is a problem of the character or the actress but she really bores me to death, not even her quirk of being insanely strong that could be very fun works with me, which's a shame. And the last character of this group is the owner of Cous Coussier that is a very good minor character that helps to make Ankh and Hina bearable sometimes.

Moving to the antagonists, the GREED are the typical villainous team so I don't have a lot to say about them, their designs are cool and I like that each one has a very strong personality trait and their greediness makes for a very interesting plot point when Kazari decides to betray them. The MOTW are weird as hell, I'm very grossed out every time that coin slot appear on people, but I like that there are different types of them each one works on a different way and it is quite interesting to see how each type feeds on the desires of the population, my favorites are the parasite type and the Mezools' ones. It makes me sad that apparently Mezool and Gamel were the first ones to be defeated because they're my favorites, I think the group has lost a lot from their defeat.

The next antagonists are the Kougami Foundation, and I really love them. Kousei is just as charismatic (or maybe even more) charismatic as Ryuubei was and watching him is a true joy. Maybe it's just my love for baking that draws me to him, but I really think he's a great bad guy. Another great asset Kougami has is the secretary, I don't remember her name but the fact she seems completely apathetic to everything that goes on in that company to me is just hilarious, I'd love to be her friend (I'm sure she's amazing at throwing shade). The weakest link of this company is without a doubt Gotou, he severely lacks in personality and his turmoil of not thinking Eiji is suitable to be Os just because he's jealous since he wants to be the savior of the world makes him sound like an immature kid rather than an interesting character.

Coming as the (unnecessary) third antagonist we have Professor Maki who just makes me want to bang my head against a concrete wall. Like, I really don't know WHY they had to make him a villain, he makes me have war flashbacks of W when they changed the role of final villains from the Sonozaki family to that very boring, soulless guy from Foundation X. And it makes me even madder that they did this change WHEN THEY HAVE A PERFECT SET OF VILLAINS ALREADY IN GREED AND KOUGAMI. All this guy has going for him is that creepy ass doll that will definitely give me nightmares, but other than that he's just completely uninteresting.

Talking about riders, when I saw it on W's movie I really wasn't into Os design, but now I've grown used to it. The medals gimmick is also pretty fun and it gives a good variety of forms the main rider can have, though I think this thing of each Greed having 9 core medals is more complicated than it needed to be, and I really dislike how arbitrary the system of getting core medals from the Greed/O's seem to be, it's also very hard to keep track of who has each medal with how easy the lose and get new ones. I really like the gadgets from this season, I love the idea of everything being on a vending machine, the bike looks really cool, and I LOVE the candroids to death, I'd love to buy a few of them if I wasn't so broke. XD On the other hand, the transformation belt I horrendous, and not even the "sixth ranger" could save it this time because that gashapon belt is just hilarious and I can't take it seriously.

And speaking of said "sixth ranger" here's probably the element I hated the most from these sixteen episodes. Much likely Doki Doki precure, they pulled a Regina/Cure Ace thing where they build-up for Gotou to be the new rider, but comes episode 16 and Kamen Rider Birth is actually A DIFFERENT COMPLETELY NEW GUY. Do I like Gotou or his "arc" that would lead to his possible transformation? Absolutely no. But having that would've been way better than seeing an unknown guy, who came out of the ether, become the new rider. I REALLY hate new members who come out of nowhere, and to top it off the milkshake of hate they made this new guy steal that spotlight of a guy they had been building up for at least 4 episodes prior.

I usually ended these with specific points of specific episodes, but I really covered everything I had to say and If I went on each episode it would be to just point out a few unnecessary nitpicks, so I'll skip doing it this time. I hate to end on such a salty note, especially considering that I genuinely like this show so far, but there was no way to escape from it, I'll try to watch fewer videos of the NerdECrafter before I write next week's post to see if I come here with less salt in my veins, I promise. XD

And these were my first impressions of OOO, thanks for sticking with me for another week and I'll hopefully see you, folks, very soon. Bye bye~.

#Kamen Rider OOO #kamen rider

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