#arguably also brief encounter

[murderballadeer]

hot tip if you want to destroy me emotionally through fiction just show me a woman who feels unfulfilled and past her prime, let her have a brief but life changing romantic relationship, and then make her return to her old life

[robinsno1lesbian]

hiii long time no see! can i please request a blurb where nancy runs a bakery in a small yet popular town and reader come in all the time and is instantly drawn to her innocence and hyper femininity and they both get to know each other one day which leads to them discovering each others desires and tastes 🤭

𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

- n.w. x reader

summary: new au unlocked?? baker!nancy wheeler? (2.8k)

warnings: SMUT!! (mdni), vaginal fingering, oral sex, semi-public sex, hair pulling, finger sucking, thigh riding, hyperfeminine!nancy, pet names (baby, pretty girl…), not an actual warning but there’s a brief mention of body hair in this and if that’s something that bothers you, respectfully, you can fuck right off :)

a/n: thank you so much for your request! i always appreciate them so if you have any for my summer fics don’t hesitate to send them! this turned into so much more than a short blurb, i hope you don’t mind! i also wrote this at the beach so ignore any typos <3

when you first stumbled upon her bakery on your usual early morning walks, you immediately felt drawn to it.

whether it was the sweet scent flooding the streets of the small coastal town that first drew you in or the loopy, cursive letters of the sign above the door, you do not remember.

there was just something about the small store; not too far off from the main road, but just enough to keep a sense of tranquility, away from the constant buzz of all the tourists that were filling the streets of the town in the warmer months of the year.

you quickly discovered though, when stepping through the entrance of the bakery where a small bell above the door was announcing your presence, that its location did nothing to prevent it from gaining some sort of popularity among the town’s people.

its interior was arguably even prettier than the store had been from the outside: all in soft pinks and pastels, with expensive looking furniture and the sweetness of baked goods lingering.

behind the counter stoood a woman, her sharp facial features framed by brown curls, only tamed by a bow that sat on the back of her head. her attire was, much like the store around her, the same shades of pink. above all this, she had an apron tied to her rather petite form. in her delicate hands she held a bowl with cake batter, but quickly put it down when she saw you.

“hi there” she spoke, wiping her hands with a towel.

you ran your own hands through your hair, feeling oddly out of place among so many pretty things.

“i haven’t seen you around before…?” she went on, blue eyes meeting yours.

“oh!” you said, snapping out of your trance. “i’m y/n. i haven’t seen you around here either”

thankfully, it didn’t come out as accusatory as you had feared it would.

“i’m nancy” the woman, nancy, said “nancy wheeler. i’m still fairly new to this town”

you looked around the room once more, over the cakes and cookies and all sorts of baked foods that were on display.

“i’m sure you’ll be fine” you assured and gestured all around “this is really pretty”

perhaps you were imagining it, your mind playing some cruel trick on you now that you’re facing a gorgeous woman like her, but her cheeks seemed slightly rosy at the compliment.

“why thank you” she leaned against the counter, manicured nails tapping a steady rhythm on its top. “can i get you anything?”

ꪆৎ

ever since that first encounter, and your first taste of her white chocolate chip raspberry cookies, you come to her bakery frequently -if not daily, as long as your schedule allows you.

you get to taste all of her specialties, whether it’s her cherry cake, her sweetly decorated cupcakes or the coffee you order every time.

what you probably like the most of all is her own sweetness. the way she blushes furiously when you compliment her or the way she starts fumbling with her apron when it’s just the two of you and she lets you have a taste of cake batter, your lips closing around the spoon with a soft, maybe slightly exaggerated hum.

you learn about her too, about some ex boyfriend of hers whom she left in a small town in Indiana to pursue her own dreams, about the people she left behind and the new friends she has made along the way.

your daily visits become hangouts when the store is empty and it’s just the two of you. they become shared secrets and lingering touches that never fail to make her cheeks turn all pink and rosy.

that’s around the time when you start feeling a new sense of hunger. not the kind you feel when you watch her working on a new cake from which you know that it’ll turn out delicious no matter what. more so the kind you feel when you’re close to her, when you move her aside by the small of her back to walk past or when you’re feeling especially bold and close your mouth around her pretty fingers to lick off whatever sweet treat she’s got smeared over them.

nancy will scold you then, complain that she’ll have to wash her hands all over again, but you see the way she fumbles when she turns, hear the way she stumbles over the words like she doesn’t understand. too innocent and new to it to wrap her head around the way her abdomen coils when you’re around.

when you first kiss her, she doesn’t know where to put her hands. they land on your shoulders, in somewhat of an awkward angle, but you guide her. help her put them on your waist, where nancy pulls herself closer until she’s pressed up against you entirely.

she kisses you slowly, like she’s still new in her skin and has to figure out how to move her mouth. you let her.

the first time you get to taste her, is in her apartment right above the bakery. on her bed where you briefly wonder, between soft pillows that smell like lavender and sugar, if everything in her life has got those pretty pastel colors.

nancy lets you untie the ribbon in her hair and you run your fingers through her untamed, wild curls. there’s an intimacy to it, one that lingers when she starts shedding her clothes. you lean back and watch through heavy lidded eyes as her skirt lands on the hardwood floor before she pulls up her blouse, further and further up and -god- nancy wheeler doesn’t wear a bra to work.

she seems shy in her own skin and you beckon her over until she’s straddling your lap and her pretty, pebbled nipples are right in front of your eyes.

“you’re so pretty” you swear to her before you take one of them into your mouth and flick it with your tongue. nancy moans and you hum. she’s sensitive there. so sensitive that she starts bucking her hips and grind them against your pelvis when you roll her other nipple between your index and your thumb.

she -honest to god- whines, her brows drawn together in pleasure. it’s the prettiest sight to see.

it doesn’t take long for you to spin her around and watch the way her hair sprawls out around her head on her pillows. she looks like a goddess like this, like a woman taken right out of your wildest fantasies: with her nipples hard and wet, her chest rising and falling quickly and a wet patch on the crotch of her lilac panties.

you could tease her, of course, feel her clit through the thin material and mouth at her pussy until she’s practically riding your face. but you wouldn’t dream of it now, not when you’ve been waiting to taste her for the longest time.

so you pull them down and nancy is spreading her legs and she’s opening for you. soft and pliant and pink like the rest of her, with hoarse curls surrounding her.

“fuck” you mutter. when you look up at nancy, she’s shyly biting her index and draws her legs together by the knees.

“don’t” you tell her gently.

“you don’t have to-“ she gestures downwards. “put your mouth there”

you chuckle at that. “i know. i want to though. is that okay?”

nancy nods immediately, even props herself up on her forearms so she can watch you when you nudge your nose through the hair there and place a first, soft kiss right onto her clit.

she moans, so responsive, and you get lost in the taste of her.

when you’ve made her cum with an actual shout of your name and you’re in her bed together, she kisses your temple.

she tells you that she’s never had sex like this. that no one ever put their mouth on her, that no one ever made her feel this good. you take pride in being what could’ve easily been her first orgasm. it’s sweet and you love every minute of laying with her.

it’s that until she leans above you and confesses “i want you to feel good too y/n”

“you don’t have to” you tell her and cup her cheeks with your hands.

“i know” she promises and kisses your palm.

you cum twice that night: once just from grinding against her thigh under her watchful, amazed gaze. the second time, you’re kneeling in front of her, each of you having one hand buried between the other’s legs, reaching your heights simultaneously.

that night, you find out how pretty nancy wheeler is when she cums. you find out that her cunt tightens, right before she releases, and that she gushes without noticing.

you also find out how her scent coaxes you to sleep like a lullaby. so you sleep, with one of her arms draped over your chest and her warm breath against your neck.

ꪆৎ

you had hoped that, whatever you were, wasn’t just casual. you knew it wasn’t when nancy woke you up with coffee in bed and a promise of “next time i want to have a taste of you too”.

nancy becomes more confident in her desires over time, admitting to more of them to you. you study her body, become familiar to each swell and dip, with every mole on her skin.

by the time you give in to what you’ve been wanting to do from the start, she’s officially your girlfriend.

you’re both behind the counter, an early, lazy morning in the bakery. you’re leaning against it, arms crossed over your chest, as you watch her mix together her ingredients. there are some freshly cut strawberries on a plate and you can’t help yourself but snatch one from it to pop it into your mouth.

“what’s that gonna be?” you ask with a nod in the direction of her bowl.

“strawberry shortcake“ she looks up at you momentarily. “want a taste?”

absentmindedly, you hum. you approach nancy from behind and wrap your arms around her waist. she squeals and scrunches up her nose.

“i’m working”

“i can see that”

she turns in your embrace, a smudged expression on your face when she meets your gaze.

“y/n” she says, nudging your shoulder. “you’re distracting”

“you love it” you return smoothly, leaning down to capture her lips in a kiss. nancy returns it, regardless of her playful complaints. and even though she gasps in surprise and you can feel her fingers tighten around your arm when you lick past her lips, she complies and kisses you back with all tongue and teeth.

nancy’s eyes widen when you lower yourself down to the floor in front of her, your hands roaming over her sides.

“y/n” she hisses under her breath, eyes darting towards the entrance. “what are you doing?”

you fumble with the hem of her maxi skirt, playfully grinning up at her. nancy is even more gorgeous when you’re down on your knees for her.

“is that okay?” you breathe. nancy takes you by surprise when she lets out a shuddered breath and nods.

“please”

“alright” you nod, already pulling up her skirt so you can stuff the hem up to where it sits on her waistline. you’re beneath the counter, hidden from the view of potential customers or anyone who might walk by. “keep working pretty girl. we wouldn’t want anybody to see”

nancy actually does, you can hear her stirring from above.

with your own task at hand, you pull her panties down her slender legs and quickly store them in your pocket -the slight, but visible bit of arousal sticking to the fabric doesn’t go unnoticed.

with that last barrier of clothing being out of your way, you put your palms on either of her thighs, your ragged breath ghosting over her bare, exposed cunt

“so pretty” you mumble, kissing her mound. nancy’s breath shudders above you. it’s true. you could spend hours, perhaps even the rest of your life, between nancy’s legs, worshipping her body. you part your index and middle finger and run them through her, spreading her labia open, delighted by the squelching sound of her arousal.

“hm” you hum, licking your lips. nancy is wet and wanting for you and she’s right there in front of you, awaiting your mouth.

she lifts her leg a little bit and drags her fingers through your hair impatiently.

“come on” she whispers.

you comply; your mouth open when you press it against her heat. she tastes good. so good. her slick is coating your tongue and it takes everything in you not to get lost in her immediately.

you trace your tongue over her clit and nancy gasps.

this time she drops the spoon entirely to grab a fistfull of your hair. you inhale sharply against her cunt as she guides you to where she needs you the most, the vibration of it going straight to nancy’s core.

finally, finally, you wrap your lips around her.

the noise nancy makes is somewhat of a strangled moan and you’re forever grateful you chose to close the front door on your way in. the noise echoes through the empty bakery, only for you to hear.

you eat her out like this for a while, getting lost in her desperate attempts of stifling her sighs as well as her taste on your lips. you know your teasing won’t make her cum just yet, your mouth avoiding her clit with purpose, only ever ghosting it briefly. you can tell nancy knows, her frustrated grinds of her hips enough of an indicator.

“come on baby” she groans softly. you look up at her just when she turns her chin down to send you a pleading glare.

you hold the established eye contact and bring one of your hands up to run it through her wetness, coating it in it. when you tilt your head, asking a silent question, nancy nods breathlessly. you push into her, two of your fingers sinking into the heat of her cunt.

she slams a hand over her mouth to stifle the moan that threatens to spill from her. you’ve stopped eating her out momentarily to catch the sight of her head thrown back in pleasure.

you moan too, quieter and less desperate, but a moan nonetheless when she flutters around your digits. she shoots you a warning glare, the hand that had been resting on the countertop coming down to cup your cheek.

her thumb strokes your lower lip, pulling it down and open slightly whilst she watches you through hazy eyes.

“quiet baby” she reminds you in a breath before pushing that finger forward. you open up for her, greedily sucking on her thumb to hold back your own moans. she replaces her thumb with her index and middle finger after a while, watching you suck her fingers off from underneath her counter while you’re still buried knuckle deep inside her. there’s a muscle that twitches in her jaw but you’re not sure if it’s because she’s trying to keep it down or because she loves the sight of you.

you hollow your cheeks around the long, manicured fingers that are pressing down on your tongue, giving the woman above you a show.

as you fight back the urge to gag around her, you go back to pumping your fingers into her pussy. in and out, in a steady rhythm, every stroke hitting her g spot perfectly. additionally, you start circling her clit with your thumb. you know that’ll be enough to make her cum and you’re proven right when nancy starts trembling above you.

“y/n” she whispers, over and over, like a prayer. “y/n, baby, i’m close. i’m so close”

you let her fingers fall from your lips, only for her to bury them in your hair once more.

“it’s okay” you whisper but it comes out like a plea.

“i’m gonna cum” she warns, voice high pitched and needy. “gonna cum- fuck- baby i’m cumming. i’m cumming”

her body bends forward a little, curling up in itself as the waves of her orgasm ripple through her. you feel the familiar pull of her pussy trying to suck you in deeper, to keep you in place. nancy is panting, some strands of her curls clinging to the sweat on her forehead.

after a moment of this, of her bent over with her lips pressed together in pleasure, she loosens the grip on your hair and leans back.

with a murmur of “fuck” she finds her voice back.

you grin, slowly pulling your fingers out. you contemplate sucking them clean but nancy is already handing you a paper towel. you’ll get your chance to taste her again, you decide, when you wipe her cum from your digits and stand back up.

you help the woman in front of you fix her hair and pull her skirt back into place gently.

“beautiful” you hum when you place a quick kiss to her forehead. “so beautiful”

nancy wheeler is beautiful, you learn. and sweet, too sweet even.

[goldencheesekingdom]

I've seen a few posts btw that seem to oversimplify Burning Spice to "destructive asshole who only wants to kill as much as possible" and Golden Cheese's only potential relationship to him as simply "she's purely disgusted by him and would never want to see him again" so I wanted to drop my 2 cents 🪙🪙

I really do wonder if all Spice's talk of "I'm going to kill you, I'm gonna kill your friends, and I'm gonna Totally Crush And Destroy whatever's left of your fallen kingdom" is... really just for show.

He does get VERY very close to crumbling her... but the whole while, we KNOW that killing her would be unsatisfactory. He doesn't even take the soul jam for himself. He doesn't lay a finger on Smoked Cheese, who ends up being easy prey after she loses consciousness (and would, most certainly count as Destroying One Of Her Treasures).

I think he fully expects that she'll be able to fight back! I don't know if he knows about Awakening (who knows? what if sm briefed him on what happened to flour 🤷) but I think he understands that if there's ANYONE in the world with the same amount of power, it MUST be the one who has the other half of it. He's not actually looking to kill her, and I think if she had passed out again, he would have simply taken her back to the cage. After all, he loves the game as much as he loves winning it.

For Spice, sure, it's entertaining, but it also really just is a moment of feeling... complete? Evenly matched? Finally able to let loose? Like scratching a centuries-old itch? Who knows, but it's just. "Ok, well I can't die, and I'm not sure you can, either. Let's have a "fun" time. And by fun, I mean lethal to everyone but us."

And we KNOW fighting is a great way to portray attractive tension. From the moment he set eyes on GC, BS was, simply put, obsessed. With his insistence that she should enjoy the fight, the fact he doesn't kill her or harm someone dear to her while he can, the fact he compliments her and listens to what she says instead of dismissing it (you can see she strikes a nerve!) you know he sees her as an equal at the very least... and may even be infatuated.

As for Goldie... the fact that this specific encounter is what made her feel ready to talk to WL? Who arguably did worse? Mind you, Lily being DE is doubly hurtful - for one, this extremely close friend of hers essentially turned her back on the world INCLUDING Golden, and also. Wholesale, she's (in)directly responsible for the destruction of the entire Golden Cheese Kingdom. And yet, after simply "Teaching Spice A Lesson" (one with... actually very weak impact in the actual story), she feels ready to talk to someone who was an even bigger threat to her treasures, to what she's fighting for.

I think her choice to leave Spice alive is ... a strange, but not fully ooc decision. She's forgiven someone who took her soul jam, she's likely going to work something out with someone who took her kingdom... so who's to say she hasn't thought ahead here, too? After all, if he gets too bold, tries to hurt her, tries to hurt her friends, she can easily put him in his place, at any time. The risk is genuinely minimal. But that would surely get boring eventually right? She's extended out her hand to anyone who needs it... who's to say she would NEVER extend a hand out to someone with not much better left to do or go back to?

[ryunumber]

On the subject of Just Shapes and Beats: in Spider Dance, there's a brief moment where a spider holding a "sign" appears in the bottom right, and that sign contains a heart. This heart is a one-to-one copy of the sprite of the soul from Undertale/Deltarune. It's very clearly not just a picture, as it moves and bounces around the sign of its own volition, without the spider holding the sign moving at all. Could this count as an appearance of Frisk? Or does the soul count as a character? (1/3)

So as for the SOUL in Just Shapes & Beats, there's a couple of uncharitable reads I could make. First, as a reference to the spiders in Muffet's encounter, the SOUL is pretty clearly in a sign, which even with the movement doesn't draw favorable comparisons to the posters and photos that aren't eligible, but the bouncing up and down near the end does imply some agency, and arguably it's not all that different from the normal context the SOUL is in for all of Undertale, anyway.

Second, SOULs are almost entirely distinguished by their color, and that color of SOUL doesn't correlate with any known one, but that's obviously just to bring it in line with the game's aesthetic, and the mere context of the song pretty strongly implies that it's the protagonist's red SOUL.

As for the SOUL's status as a character in and of itself, they do at least seem capable of acting by themselves in Photoshop Flowey's battle, so that's probably fine. As to whether the SOUL is also Frisk?

I'm gonna sidestep that with Groove Coaster: Wai Wai Party's help.

So while I don't think it scans well enough to give the Just Shapes & Beats cast(?) definite Ryu Numbers, yeah, sure, it'll work as a possible route.

Thank you for the correction!

[cosmica-galaxy]

I hope you don't mind one last one for now but this ask has been in the back of my mind forever. I saw the weaponsmith!human ask & I fell in love with the idea. Based on John Wick 2 where the Baba Yaga goes equipment shopping & meets the Sommelier, picture this:

Cameron, DJ, Vee & Veteran were called down to the armory by Doc to see something. Upon arrival, the doors opened to reveal Doc & greeting them upon arrival & the human, who was wearing a fancy looking butler uniform & tuxedo with gloves, was polishing a paralyzer rifle with a cloth. They then put it back on the rack & turn to face their friends & caretaker.

"Good afternoon guys. I'm glad you all could come here today for what I like to call a, 'tasting'. Now then, let's get started. Cameron, Vet. Now I know of both of your fondness for the paralyzer rifles but, I can whole heartedly endorse this new upgraded version (hands them both each one). A higher frequency output for longer stunning duration against normal & larger opponents, a built in plasma ballistics knife for close quarters combat, a laser function for blasting stronger toilets to dust, & I know & hope you'll both appreciate the custom design & your names signed by yours truly of course. I've also, (pulls out two cases from under the display counter & opens them, revealing pistol variants of their rifles), made these more compact breed with the same power as their larger counterparts but with much better handling & mobility."

Now then, DJ. I've noticed that while you're race is more then capable in the knife-fight-distance & self defense with your soundwaves, there's one small key area that's lacking a little bit. Range. Now don't get me wrong I've seen your matriarch, her brother & your titan blast their knives with their soundwaves & no doubt you can do the same, I've always felt you could do more. Which is why, after a ethical thumbs up from Pal, I made you this (hands DJ his new gun). The cardiac pulse blaster. Functionally very similar to a speaker mimic's blast, albeit not as strong as the real thing. But it can penetrate headphones and disrupt a foes' cardiac rhythm, however it doesn't fully kill the unit. Instead, let the stress of the battle kill those toilets. No doubt it will up your kill count my friend.

And of course, I can't forget about you Vee. I would say you arguably have the most solid combat package. But I know for a fact that it can be perfected even more. (Takes out two wrist blasters with TV remotes sticking out to form their barrels) Should your TV light not work on whatever Skibidi you encounter, these blasters should come in handy. One blast will infect the toilet allowing you to mind-control it. And of course, (takes out a custom box with his new blades in them) the finest cutlery. All freshly stemmed & designed by me. The electrical obsidian material & the remote charging feature through the pulses of your own core that these have will allow you to cleave through metal & porcelain. The "reaper" shapes they have helps for better directional swings.

Now with that said, I really do hope you guys enjoy them & find them effective."

What are all their reactions?

P.S: Sorry this is so long.

If there's one thing the alliance members LOVE, it's getting new weapons. The camera units, both Vet and Camron, each explore the new guns frames and magazines before walking over to try them out in the shooting range that was built for testing such things. The first round of shooting enabled the pair to discover that they find that the guns were nimble, smaller, and still packed a PUNCH, judging from how badly singed the dummy's further into the range fared. Plus, the dummy that appears in front of both Camron and Vet was reflexively stabbed by both in their disgusting fake neck. Cleaving through the thick-skin material like warm butter. With a brief glance of excitement towards one another, the pair give the guns an approving thumbs up. DJ is excited to finally get a weapon that fits his faction a lot more. Knives are nice, but they are VERY close range and need multiple hits to kill...as a result, DJ has to be careful and lacks a kill count that's worthy of boasting about. However, the new gun in his hands felt amazing. Upon taking it to the shooting range and lining up a headphone-equipped dummy, he fires the first blast. The recoil was there, but it wasn't horrible. Plus, he finally understood how the gun could penetrate the headphones...the plastic that the headphones were made out of cracked and crumbled from the force of the blast...as well as the entire dummy's posture changed. It even skid back a few feet! DJ lets out a whistle sfx. He LOVES this new gun! Vee was a little apprehensive of exchanging his precious combat knives, but the sheer sleekness and reaper-like design of the new ones swayed him over nearly immediately. The biggest problem the TV units have is the glasses that the enemy uses to resist their powers...if this weapon can bypass such a handicap, then the battles would become easier to win. With a quick exchange of his knives and a wiring of the new weapon into his core-line, he heads over to practice with the new ones. The first was obvious, he needed to test these knives. As soon as the round started, skibidi dummies appear in the training area and he unsheathes his new scythes. With a swing, they cut through even the thickest of material with gliding accuracy, then with a flick and rotation of his wrist, he swings cleanly in the opposite direction. Nailing the dummy that appeared behind him. He swings again and again, ripping, shredding, and demolishing the dummies. Then, he saved the last one for long range as the remaining toilet dummy was a ways away. Of course, this would need a live subject, so all he could do was check the range on the weapon. Which was...quite a distance, surprisingly. Once it was all said and done, he retracts his scythes and nods in approval.

[ampleappleamble]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

okay okay at least three separate people (you, @adozentothedawn and @dragonologist-phd ♡♡♡) have asked me this now so i guess i better deliver. conveniently, i only have 5 published fics in total, so this'll be pretty easy! i'll list them in order of my most to least favorite:

Hero Worship — this fic answers the question "before he invited them to the Dead Floe, how did Vatnir learn about the Watcher of Caed Nua's exploits in the Dyrwood and their presence in the Deadfire?" in my Watcher's case, it turns out the answer is "an unscrupulous merchant sold him a book about her and he became infatuated with her after seeing her portrait, and then he had a really fucked up terrifying horny nightmare about her that he's pretty sure was some sort of omen from his god, so he figured he'd better write to her." features Maribel and Maribel, my Vailian nature godlike and endings godlike not-really-sisters with the same name who ran away from the circus and are trying to build themselves a little trade empire. this was one of those fic ideas i kicked around in my head for years before finally writing it and i personally really really love how it came out! content warning: there's an almost-sexual encounter involving arguably dubious consent, blood, and forced consumption of gore (all of which are entirely within a dream sequence), and vomit (that happens in the waking world).

Pillars of Eternity: Anthem Infinitum — my very first fic ever, a novelization of my Watcher Axa Mala's journey through the events of the first Pillars of Eternity game. she features in most of my other fics, so if you wanna know what she's all about, start here! my longest fic at over 100k words thus far, still very much in progress, stalled out around 2 years ago just as i was starting the White March, a rather difficult section of the game wrt keeping up one's momentum. also i had just given birth to my son, which shifted my priorities a bit. i'm currently in the process of re-editing it in preparation to (hopefully) continue the damn thing, so if you'd like to help encourage me, read what i've got and maybe consider leaving a comment! 👀 content warning: every sensitive topic you might encounter in Pillars of Eternity you'll also find here, including blood/gore/violence, (memories/discussion of) child abuse, (memories/discussion of) incestuous sexual assault, and the abuse/murder of vulnerable people.

Shelter in Place — your classic "curmudgeonly old man and adorable precocious child are thrown together by Circumstances and must learn to get along" fic. Vatnir hasn't been in the Watcher's crew for even six hours yet, and already they're under attack by pirates, because of course they are. but as he's trying to find a place to hide (what, you thought he was gonna help fight them?), who should he happen across but a little orlan girl, clutching a stuffed stelgaer and looking for her mama? as the battle above intensifies, he scoops Vela up and gets the two of them to a relatively safe place, but can he manage to keep her safe? or at least quiet? another fic i spent a lot of time daydreaming about before finally writing it, and the only fic of mine requiring no content warning because there's no objectionable content! (unless you count the very brief appearance of a severed hand.)

God's Children Bathe Free — still the only Vatnir/Tekēhu fic on ao3! the Watcher of Caed Nua has decided to treat her crew to a trip to the Luminous Bathhouse, primarily because they're offering free admission for godlike patrons today– hence why she's invited her newest recruit, Vatnir. he's reluctant at first, but Tekēhu convinces him that he ought to enjoy all the Deadfire has to offer their kind... as well as the amorous attentions of Ondra's favored. i write about Vatnir a lot, i know, but this was my very first effort starring him! this one turned out very differently than i'd initially planned. i didn't set out with the intent to pair him and Tekēhu romantically, but by the end of the story that's where i found they'd led me. no regrets though. content warning: there's a good amount of innuendo and implied sexual activity in this one.

Wael's Mystery Nut — a shitpost in the form of a fanfiction examining what each of the gods might be like were they to engage the Watcher in sexual intercourse. literally born of making ridiculous raunchy jokes about the gods in the pillars fan discord, inspired by the hauntingly beautiful, achingly erotic unfinished fic from the Forgotten Sanctum, A Very Good Farmer. featuring an intentionally ambiguous Watcher (just plug your favorite Watcher into the story!) and a little epilogue starring Xoti and (who else) Vatnir. content warning: no one should read this. (honestly it's meant to be funny and not at all titillating, but it does make use of some pretty explicit sexual imagery and language, so if that's not your thing then read at your own risk.)

[theflowerofhumanity]

Castaways

Five years in space was a long time. It could, on occasion, feel like a lifetime even on a starship as big and bustling as the Enterprise. Between their often death-defying missions and encounters with new alien civilizations, daily routines sometimes began to feel tired, stale, even suffocating. Tempers flared and attention wandered. Even the most dedicated Starfleet personnel were, after all, only human—well, most of them. After a while, they all wanted to stretch their legs, enjoy some sunshine (or at least some shopping), and see some unfamiliar faces off-duty. The captain of the Enterprise, arguably the most dedicated of all the ship’s officers, had sometimes been reluctant to take shore leave in the past. But he felt sorely in need of it now. His brother and sister-in-law were dead, his first officer had nearly been permanently disabled, and the remaining years of their mission stretched out before his eyes like a deep well full of endless, invisible possibilities, not all of them good. He loved his ship and his crew and was still looking forward to the rest of their journey...after a brief holiday.

Starfleet Command approved four days of general shore leave for the entire Enterprise crew on Beta Regulus II. During that time, outside technicians and engineers would crawl all over the ship evaluating its condition and making potential repairs and updates, much to the chagrin of Chief Engineer Scott.  The planet was dominated by a pleasantly subtropical climate and warm seas as well as several large, bustling commercial centers in its chief cities. It was an ideal place to take shore leave by just about anyone’s standards and could comfortably accommodate all four hundred of them.

Kirk had instructed his officer corps carefully regarding his expectations: he wanted the entire crew on their best behavior. “This is a pretty cosmopolitan planet, and we might cross paths with some people we wouldn’t consider friends. If I hear about any of our people making trouble, I won’t hesitate to cancel general shore leave for everyone.” Then he dropped the stern commander facade and smiled at them. With only the best serving on the Enterprise, he wasn’t really concerned about having to make good on his threat. Besides, there were no signs of any Klingons or other similarly unsavory characters in the area as far as he was aware and therefore little cause for real concern.

After procuring some appropriate civilian clothes from the replicator—since he rarely had any reason to be out of uniform and also had the most varied regulation wardrobe of anyone else aboard the Enterprise, he kept almost none in his quarters—Kirk beamed down to the surface with Dr. McCoy and Spock. The former was already fully decked out for a vacation in an old-fashioned polo shirt, sandals, and sunglasses, while the latter, still in uniform, had his Vulcan harp tucked beneath one arm. The three friends materialized in a small, sunny plaza from which they could just catch the roar of the sea in the distance. Numerous other crew members were milling about nearby.

“Planning to serenade the doctor while he sunbathes, Spock?” Kirk asked with a chuckle

Spock raised a brow. “Since Beta Regulus is, as you say, cosmopolitan, I intend to see if any shops carry a set of strings for my lyre, captain,” he replied.

McCoy rolled his eyes as he slid his sunglasses down over them. “Just don’t forget to relax a little too, Spock. That is the general idea of shore leave! Well, Jim, you comin’?”

Kirk smiled. “I’ll catch up, Bones.”

He headed towards the dispersing crowd of crewmen to say hello to people with whom he usually didn’t mingle. A few of the women who rarely got to see their captain in person blushed and smiled like shy schoolgirls as he passed through, shaking a hand here and grasping a shoulder there in the warm, congenial way that inspired so much personal loyalty. His sleeveless royal blue v-neck certainly did nothing to discourage them from glancing over their shoulders to steal a second look or from smothering giggles with their palms. As usual, Kirk paid no mind to the attention.

@multirptrash

[twistedtummies2]

ReCount: Top 15 Portrayals of Van Helsing

Opinions change over time. I've been doing lists for a while, and the more I see and the more I learn, the more frequently my feelings about characters and portrayals of them can shift. SO, I've decided to start doing "ReCounts." These are second attempts at old countdowns: for my more long-winded countdowns, such as month-long countdown events, I will do shortened single-post versions of them, with updated rankings, short descriptions, and collages that separate different "sections" to help tighten things up. For my shorter lists, where I give almost no descriptions and/or the choices are fewer in number, I will provide said descriptions (albeit relatively brief ones), and the lists themselves, once again, may be adjusted. With that said...later this month, I’ll be doing a countdown of the Worst Dracula Portrayals, in my opinion. I’ll also be doing a ReCount of my personal favorites. Before then, however, I felt it would be fun to talk about the notable side characters of Bram Stoker’s novel. So, we’ll begin with a ReCount of arguably the most famous character from the story (aside from Dracula himself), Abraham Van Helsing. Professor Van Helsing ISN’T the main character of the original book. I would say he’s more describable as the Gothic Horror equivalent to Merlin. He is the de-facto leader of the vampire hunters who set out to destroy Dracula, true, but he’s not the main protagonist: he is their teacher, their guide, the one who has all the knowledge and wisdom the other, younger warriors require in order to combat the threat that the undead Count provides. Van Helsing is not depicted as a professional vampire slayer, either; he’s simply a scientist, but one who has a vast knowledge of and strange belief in the supernatural. In the novel, the Professor at first appears to be a somewhat comical character; slightly clumsy and with an unusual way of speaking, as well as several eccentricities. As the story goes on, however, his own inner steel and darkness begins to show more and more. As a result, he becomes just as fascinating and mysterious as Dracula himself: there are a lot of unanswered questions about Van Helsing that make him intriguing, and he is one of the most proactive characters in the story. Both of these facts are a major part of why the character has become so noteworthy over the years since.

Over the years, Van Helsing’s reputation has intensified; most versions of the character don’t actually follow the book at all, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing (nor an uncommon thing, as later lists for other characters in the novel shall indicate). Choosing my favorite versions of the guy was really difficult, and in making this ReCount - expanding the list to a Top 15, and providing some brief descriptions - it was interesting to see what made some interpretations work or not work. With that said, here are My Top 15 Favorite Portrayals of Dracula’s Nemesis, Professor Van Helsing!

15. David Suchet, from 2006 BBC TV Film.

The same year this TV film came out, the BBC also produced a radio version of Dracula (not connected to the movie at all), and which also featured Suchet. In the radio adaptation, Suchet played Dracula, but - perhaps because the film wanted to go for a younger, more “sexy” Dracula (played by Marc Warren) - in the film, he plays Van Helsing. The film seems to conflate Van Helsing with Renfield, of all characters, depicting him as a shabby character driven half-insane by a past encounter with Dracula. Suchet does a good job with what he’s given, but I rather wish Van Helsing (and the film, in general) had followed the novel more closely.

14. Rikiya Koyama, from Phantom in the Twilight.

In this anime, Koyama voices Van Helsing XIII - a descendant of the original Van Helsing, who is the head of a monster-hunting organization called “Midnight Sun.” He is depicted as an anti-heroic antagonist: a religious zealot who believes all humans are inherently good, and all of the Umbra (monsters) are inherently evil - a Javert-like, black-and-white perspective that often causes trouble. While I liked the character on the whole, and the mysteries about him are intriguing, I was ultimately disappointed by his “battle” with Vlad (the Dracula character) and the conclusion of his story in the show. An interesting concept, but not the most glamorous execution.

13. Nigel Davenport, from the 1973 TV Film.

Davenport plays a more stiff-upper-lipped Van Helsing in this Dan-Curtis-created TV production of the story. The film depicts Van Helsing at first as a sort of dandy, very typically “British” and slightly foppish. However, as the film goes on he shows more and more of his strength and wisdom as the battle to stop Dracula gets more and more intense. I can’t say Davenport is my ideal Van Helsing, but he is an interesting rendition that pays some slight homage to the original in that respect.

12. Martin Gabel, from the Mercury Theatre Radio Version.

Not pictured here in costume, because...well...radio. :P Honestly, I don’t really have a lot to say about Gabel in this radio version, created by and starring Orson Welles. I just think he’s really freaking good: he feels a bit like how Edward Van Sloan’s Van Helsing might have acted (more on him later) if he were in a slightly more book-accurate adaptation.

11. David Moroni, from Dracula: Pages From a Virgin’s Diary.

This extremely bizarre, silent-film-styled, surrealist/Expressionistic TV film was produced by the utterly bonkers Guy Maddin, and loosely based on the Royal Winnipeg Ballet’s dance version of the story. In the film, all of the male characters - and I DO mean ALL of them - are depicted as figures of toxic masculinity. Each of them has flaws and unsavory traits, but Van Helsing is arguably the worst of them all. As a result, the film - I think intentionally - plays with the duality between him and Dracula in some interesting ways, visually, as Van Helsing really is just as awful as the vampire he’s hunting in this version.

10. Christopher Plummer, from Dracula 2000.

While I personally feel this film is a total mess, I will say that arguably the best part of the entire experience is Plummer as Van Helsing. In the movie, Van Helsing is revealed to have become as immortal as Dracula, by using the vampire’s blood to keep himself going, so that he can forever protect the world from the Count’s darkness. However, the methods Van Helsing uses provide some flaws in his character, and at the same time, Dracula himself is depicted as a more sympathetic villain (which is not uncommon). Once again, the duality this creates is interesting.

9. Goofy, from Disney’s Dracula, Starring Mickey Mouse.

Disney has done TWO different “Dracula Starring Mickey Mouse” adaptations in print: the first was a graphic novel, the second was a children’s storybook. While both have obvious similarities, they also have some differences: most notably, the storybook is much, MUCH shorter and “thinner” (both literally and metaphorically), and the casting for many of the characters is different. In the graphic novel, Goofy, of all characters, plays the role of Van Helsing; in the storybook, it’s Horace Horsecollar. (Incidentally, in the storybook Goofy is Quincey Morris, while in the comic version Horace is Arthur Holmwood.) The weird thing is that by making Goofy - clumsy, bumbling, silly Goofy - the Professor, the graphic novel actually creates one of the most weirdly accurate interpretations of the character out there.

8. Laurence Olivier, from the 1979 Film.

In this film version, Olivier’s Van Helsing is given a tragic, personal reason to fight Dracula, as its revealed his daughter is the Lucy character (and you’ll note I say “the Lucy character,” not just “Lucy;” more on that another time). When she is made into a vampire by the undead Count, Van Helsing swears vengeance, and thus his crusade to avenge his child begins. The quest to defeat the vampire ultimately seems to destroy both hero and villain in the end…but I mustn’t say more, or I shall spoil the whole story.

7. Hugh Jackman, from Van Helsing.

While Jackman’s action-hero spin on Van Helsing has almost NOTHING to do with the original book…I’ll give both him and the movie this: anytime I think of the name “Van Helsing,” this movie and this take on the character DO come pretty immediately to mind. Other than that, there’s not a whole lot to say: the movie may not be that great, but it’s a guilty pleasure, and I think Jackman’s performance is part of the reason why. He’s just always a delight to watch, in my experience.

6. Anthony Hopkins, from the 1992 Film.

In the 1992 film, Dracula is given a strongly sympathetic streak. To contrast this, Van Helsing, in turn, is given a darker edge to his character. While what he’s doing IS ultimately heroic, his methods and manners aren’t always the most saintly or kind. At times he even seems to lean towards the verge of madness, which again, makes the struggle between himself and Dracula all the more interesting.

5. The Version from the 2006 BBC Radio Version.

To this day, I have not figured out who plays Van Helsing in the radio adaptation the BBC made, written by Liz Lochhead. The actor is not credited, and I can’t tell if he’s played by someone else in the cast, doing double roles, or if it’s just that the performer chose to be anonymous. Whoever does the job, however, they do it very well: playing a serious, intelligent, but still interesting version of the Professor that courageously leads the other characters.

4. Herbert Lom, from the 1970 Film.

This was the movie made by Jess Franco, entitled "Count Dracula." While I personally feel the conclusion to Van Helsing’s story in the film is somewhat anti-climactic - neither he nor Mina ever travel to Transylvania in this version, leaving them COMPLETELY out of the final battle against Dracula and his servants - Lom portrays the Professor excellently. In this version, Van Helsing is the head of the asylum where Renfield stays, with Dr. Seward as his closest associate; it’s eventually revealed that, in secret, Van Helsing has long been a student of the occult, and it’s implied the asylum is a cover for his true work facing the “creatures of the night.” The battle between himself and Dracula is made interesting, as the film puts emphasis on their competition. Though they only come face-to-face briefly in the movie (and, apparently, behind the scenes, neither Lom nor Christopher Lee actually EVER shared screentime together), I think Van Helsing says it best: “I have never met the Count, yet I feel I know him better than my own soul.”

3. Frank Finlay, from the 1977 BBC TV Film.

Finlay plays probably the single most Stoker-accurate version of Van Helsing ever put to the screen in this 1970s television production. Many consider this one of the most faithful adaptations of the story, even though it - like all renditions - does still take a few liberties. Finlay’s Van Helsing ranges from slightly zany and comical to stone-cold serious and courageously capable, and his performance is probably one of my favorites in the man’s whole career.

2. Edward Van Sloan, from the 1931 Film & Dracula’s Daughter.

Van Sloan first played Van Helsing in the Broadway production of Hamilton Dean’s “Dracula” stage show, opposite Bela Lugosi as Dracula. When Lugosi was cast as the Count for Universal’s famous film version, Lugosi personally suggested Van Sloan be cast as his nemesis, as well. Perhaps because of this, as well as because of the expansions the film made to the twin source materials (the movie is based mostly on the play, but also includes elements from the book and a few new additions all its own), the chemistry between Van Helsing and Dracula in the film is one of the most interesting parts of the whole movie. They feel like the Sherlock Holmes and Moriarty of Gothic Horror in this version, more than anywhere else. Van Sloan reprised the role in the sequel, “Dracula’s Daughter,” and would also go on to play Van-Helsing-esque characters in both “Frankenstein” and “The Mummy.”

1. Peter Cushing, from the Hammer Horror Franchise.

Cushing is arguably where the modern Van Helsing - the idea of him as a professional monster hunter - really began. In the first Hammer film, Van Helsing is a doctor of medicine, but it’s made clear this is a cover for his true profession as a monster hunter, who has been tracking Dracula for years. Later films would continue to expand on the seemingly eternal conflict between the Count and the Professor. Cushing’s Van Helsing is a strict and strong vampire slayer, willing to go to some extreme lengths to take down Dracula and his progeny, but what I like is that - despite these hard edges - there’s also a warmth and a kindness to his character. He can be just as fierce as his enemy, but what separates him from the Count is ultimately his humanity.

[mrsreginagold]

Fic: Why Don't We Rely On Chemistry?

Fandom: Ready or Not x Saw VI (Crossover)

Pairing: William Easton x Grace Le Domas (Willace)

Rating: R

Spoilers: Takes place at the end of Saw VI, but in an AU where William lives, and after the events of Ready or Not. While it arguably messes with timelines, Grace has been working at Umbrella for around a month, and as a new hire in administrative would not have been targeted the same way as those who have been part of his team for longer. 

Summary: Grace is unprepared for William’s sudden arrival at her apartment but lets him in regardless. 

Author’s note: Every now and then, a crack pairing that forms seemingly out of nowhere becomes important enough to write. In this case – there were three different concepts that demanded attention, so I decided to tackle them all in between other projects. Dedicated, with affection, to @eternal-learner whose interest in the idea of the pairing finally got me to think about it clearly. 

The Song That Inspired This

Why Don’t We Rely on Chemistry?

            It’s the last thing Grace Le Domas expects – her boss leaning against her doorframe: bloody, disheveled, and looking as though he’s been through hell and back at least twice – but she would be lying if it also wasn’t a relief to see him. 

            Things with the estate she’d inherited had gotten complicated, as it was only a few months after her horrific ordeal on the night of her wedding. In fact, she had just ended a tense phone-call with her lawyers. Honestly, a distraction was exactly what she needed. 

            “Will,” she reached out quickly to catch William Easton’s tall, lean body right as his legs gave out beneath him. “My god, what happened?”

            “Jigsaw,” he gasped, the gravel in his voice revealing the pain he was in. 

            Grace’s eyebrows furrowed. “Isn’t he supposed to be dead?”

            Somehow, her employer manages a brief laugh while she hoists him up, draping one of his arms over her shoulder so she can cart him inside her apartment properly. 

            “Apparently even the dead can exact revenge.” He remarked as she charted a path through her messy living room.

Admittedly, it doesn’t take too much to guide him into the small bathroom at the end of the hall. While she has a tinier frame than he does, she is also strong enough to carry him entirely if need called for it. Luckily – that doesn’t appear to be the case.

            She lets him recline against the counter, flipping on the light switch so she can see things more clearly. “Take off your shirt and tell me what happened.”

            Again, he laughs, though there’s a wounded hiss and he inhales sharply right after. “You’re being so bossy. Do you get that from watching me all day?”

            She finishes rummaging in her medicine cabinet, turning just in time to see him struggling with the buttons. The sarcastic retort she’d prepared dies on her tongue and her gaze softens. 

            Grace crosses over to William and takes over, popping each button on his blood-stained shirt open in rapid succession. “Please tell me, as best as you can.”

            He takes another shaky breath before doing so, while she gingerly pushes the ruined garment off his shoulders. 

            He leaves nothing out in his retelling of the harrowing encounter in the abandoned zoo, but what might be the most alarming part of all is how haunted he is about not being able to do more. 

            In ordinary circumstances, she might ogle his surprisingly defined torso a bit, but she is more consumed with tending to his injuries while he relays his story. 

            She winces in sympathy when he is unable to keep a whimper at bay while she cleans the puncture wounds on his hands – wiping the blood away as gently as possible despite the sting of the rubbing alcohol. “I’m so sorry, I’m almost done,” she mutters. “Then I’ll stitch up that gash on your side.”

            “Don’t apologize,” he shakes his head, dark brown strands of hair coming loose from where he had smoothed them back earlier. “You’re rather adept at this, actually. Did you have any medical training?”

            “On myself you could say,” she holds up her own hand, where scar tissue is visible right on the center of her palm. 

            He blinks, concern crossing his handsome features. “How?”

            “A fucking kid shot through my hand, that’s how. And then I impaled it again on a nail.”

            “Grace…how much about your past have you told me?”

            A rueful smile tugged at her lips. “Well to be fair, I was only recently hired.”

            “True, but now I’m doubly curious,” he turns when she instructs him, so she has a better angle at which to sew in the stitches. 

            In a way, it’s a great release to finally share her own story, and she’s certain William appreciates being able to take his mind off his own for a while. 

            What she isn’t counting on is the tears that have sprung to her eyes by the time she’s completed her work, and when she peers up at him, the emotion reflected back in his sea-colored gaze nearly takes her breath away. 

            Gingerly, he frames her face between his damaged hands. “What happened wasn’t your fault.” 

            “You need to tell yourself that too,” she half sobs.

            The next thing she knows, she is cradled in his arms, flush against his solid chest, and listening to the steady beat of his heart while he soothes her with kind words.

            “This isn’t hurting you?” she risks a nuzzle.

       ��    “You’re worth the pain,” he rests his chin against the top of her head. “If there’s something I’m grateful for, it’s that you weren’t with my team long enough to get dragged into that game with me. I don’t know what I would have done if I couldn’t have saved you.”

            “If there’s something I’m great at: it’s surviving,” Grace admits, tilting her head back so she can look at him again. 

            Her heart skips when he smiles genuinely for the first time that night, and then he raises a hand to trace along her cheek before whispering, “I don’t doubt it.”

            Whether she moves or he does is beside the point – in the next moment, their mouths are colliding in an ardent kiss.

            She parts her lips eagerly in invitation, delighted when he takes it, and his tongue delves with practiced precision. 

            She hooks her index fingers into his belt loops, tugging him forward as she steps backward to lead him to the shower. 

            They separate for air and for Grace to shuck her tee shirt over her head. 

            There is no mistaking the lust in William’s gaze the second he gets a glimpse of her in the black lace bra she has on underneath, those eyes of his trailing slowly over her. 

            She makes a show of removing the undergarment – and then she is standing there, half-naked and hoping that he won’t let reason cloud his judgement. 

            He hesitates for a split second before throwing caution to the wind. 

            She’s in his arms again in a heartbeat, elation coursing through her entire body as she blindly reaches for the faucet to start the hot water. “You sure?” she mumbles, fumbling with the rest of his clothes.

            “I need to feel something that isn’t pain,” he responds, assisting her until they’re both completely nude and stepping under the refreshing, warm spray. 

            If he weren’t recovering, she’s certain that he would be lifting her up and pinning her against the wall. Instead, she straddles him on the tub floor and takes initiative.

            They’re careful after joining together, moving in a deliberately paced rhythm so as not to aggravate his injuries. The water cascades over them while they exchange loving kisses, and a symmetry builds. 

            It’s been some time since she’s connected with another in this way. She relishes in how good it feels – as though he’s been made for her because he fits so perfectly. 

            His name falls from her lips like a mantra as they pick up speed, and she cards her fingers through his damp hair while looking deeply into his eyes. He braves gripping her hips more tightly, and she can’t deny that she likes witnessing a hint of dominance, especially when it adds to his allure.

            “Grace…” his already low register is akin to an inhuman growl, and she shivers before kissing him again, encouraging the movement of their entangled forms until there is nothing left but the pleasure they share. 

            “For the record, this was probably the worst idea, and I should have immediately taken you to a hospital,” Grace confesses not long after. Her hands are preoccupied with stroking through the hair on his chest while they lie in her bed, twined with each other and the sheets, recuperating. 

            William’s quiet laugh rumbles against her cheek. “You gave me some painkillers and food. I should be fine till tomorrow morning,” he sighs and sweeps his fingers tiredly through her unbound, blond waves. 

            She lifts her head from where it’s pillowed comfortably and purses her lips. “One hint of a fever and I’m dragging you there completely naked.”

            “That’ll be a sight,” he grins, yanking her close for a sweet kiss that she happily returns. 

            He’s right. Being responsible can wait till the morning. 

The End

[valentinecult]

So question on Kratos' strength. Cory Balrog said the Kratos is stronger than before but also says Kratos is holding back. So, what is this?

Kratos has always been strong, it's more like how he approaches his battles.

Kratos is 'stronger' now because he is more mature and wiser and cautious. He has better control over his anger now and you should keep in mind also, anger makes you reckless and clouds your judgement.

What he means by 'holding back' is holding back simply his anger and bloodlust. Every time he enters Spartan Rage, that is technically Kratos unleashing his suppressed rage if he's getting overwhelmed or backed into a corner. However, this ability is temporary because the longer Kratos stays in that state of anger, the more likely he'll relapse back to his former self. So, that is actually Kratos 'going all out' for that brief moment.

Despite that he's killed powerful gods, you have to understand that Kratos is in an unfamiliar land with unfamiliar gods and deities.

So Kratos is more cautious and wary of the Norse Gods. Even though it is obvious that the Greek Gods are stronger in terms of raw power and influence on earthly nature, the Norse Gods are no slouch for they're more like warriors and are downright tenacious.

The reason why younger Kratos seemed 'stronger' was because he had more weapons and equipment than he did in the Norse Pantheon. As strong as he is, Kratos wouldn't even be able to kill gods without the help of certain weapons.

Here's some examples.

Without the aid of the mistletoe arrow, there's no actual way for Kratos to kill or defeat Baldur. Even if Kratos went Spartan Rage, Baldur is just going to keep coming back or get back up. So before the mistletoe, Kratos doesn't have a solid advantage or a chance to beat him.

Onto Thor, if it weren't for the Leviathan Axe, Kratos wouldn't have been able to keep up with Thor's raw might. In their first encounter, Thor had an advantage because of two things. One, Kratos was worried about Atreus and was making several mistakes in the fight. Two, Kratos didn't have the Blades of Chaos or the Draupnir Spear to wear down Thor. The reason why Kratos is able to defeat Thor in the second fight is because Kratos is fighting smartly and using all his weapons to wear him down. Thor's tenacity is ridiculous but there's only so much damage he can take.

And finally, there's Odin.

According to some sources, Odin was described as Kratos' most formidable opponent. This is not talking about terms of raw power, it's most likely referring to the All Father's trickery and cunning intellect. While he isn't as strong as Zeus in a physcial fight, Odin is arguably more adept and versatile in magic. With his obsession for knowledge and desire to know everything, this makes him potentially the most dangerous god in the GOW franchise. Keyword: POTENTIALLY.

The only reason why Kratos needed help from Atreus and Freya is because Odin is a skilled magic user. He can alter and use the environment as a weapon. However, magic requires a great deal of focus. When you have three people fighting you at once and not to mention, you have Atreus and Freya who are both strong magic users in their own right, this is enough to overwhelm Odin.

Don't think I'm downplaying Kratos. Kratos is strong and has always been strong, but raw power and strength can only get you so far.

[chippedclawclip]

Part 1: The Set-up

Fortnight - This is a letter written to someone’s obsession. It’s what you would write for someone who you’ve only had a brief relationship with, that ended way too early and now you can’t get them out of your mind. And, to make matters worse, they live right next door. It’s about constantly watching the love of your life through open windows and remembering what you had, what could’ve been. The daydream is what keeps this song going. It’s important to note that, in the song, both main characters have other spouses, implying there’s a forbidden love element to their story.

the tortured poets department - this is arguably the most lucid song on the album. clearheaded, focused, but not above taking the piss out of the characters a little. “We’re modern idiots” seems like a tragic miscalculation in the context of the rest of the album. The story is of two artists falling in love, their love is deeper due to the connection through their work. They understand one another, where others might find them strange. They’re alike, they can weather the storms together. However this song is also setting up their challenges: his mental state seems precarious. It’s the first time we hear talk of the level at which they’re operating; they’re talking rings.

My boy only breaks his favorite toys - the inevitable happens; our hero lets down our narrator. He apparently called time on their relationship and destroyed her expectations. It’s not entirely clear why he does this. The narrator believes it’s because of the danger her life presents to people who become associated with her OR that he just isn’t ready for the real deal (“saw forever and he smashed it up”). We already know from the previous song he has self-destructive tendencies, and the narrator’s own personal opinion seems to be that this is a pattern of behavior she’s not unfamiliar with, it’s happened before. But she’s also hopeful that it may still come to fruition someday. She’s annoyed in this song, but she hasn’t entirely lost her faith yet.

Down bad - someone otherworldly takes our narrator out of her comfort zone, shows her what could be, and then just takes her back to where she was before. Except the encounter has left her changed, she fell in love. She wants that love, not whatever her tepid life is offering her. It’s implied in the song that her lover left her where he felt like she belonged (“leaving me safe and stranded”). But maybe the narrator feels like she’s ready to move planets anyway.

So long, London - This is a narrative pit stop in the story we were seeing in the first few songs. In this song, our narrator is the one doing the leaving. She’s laying out the reasons for her departure, which all seem to boil down to: she no longer loves the guy. The “rift” between them was something that she got tired of bridging. Sometimes you just feel like you are done trying, for your own sanity. There don’t seem to be any score-settling lines in this song. Doesn’t seem like a crying, screaming sort of break-up. More that the car simply ran out fuel, and air…and drivers. If there are any hard feelings, it’s the sense of bitterness at the time and effort wasted trying to make things right. Trying so hard for someone who ultimately wasn’t actually the one.

[florbelles]

✘: Who do they detest the most? Do they typically avoid this person or antagonize them? ✨: What motivates them? Is it a deep rooted passion/motivation, or is it something they struggle with from time to time? ✪: Have they ever let a rare opportunity slip them by? for Lyra beloved <3

✘ WHO DO THEY DETEST THE MOST? DO THEY TYPICALLY AVOID THIS PERSON OR ANTAGONIZE THEM?

(under the cut for brief gore description bc of lyra lyra-ing).

lyra, funnily enough, has a very difficult time actively detesting anyone; she's a very social creature who very much wants to be liked and who, as a rule, likes others as individuals, in at least some capacity. she doesn't hate the resistance; she doesn't hate the damned, condemned to her judge's domain—they are quite useful and necessary to her, if nothing else, and anyway, is she not taking their sins upon herself to cleanse them in their suffering, to make them purposeful, to make them beautiful? (they are eyeless and tongueless and strung on that beam over there by their entrails for the next poor unfortunate soul to choose to save or leave to their fate in her little gauntlet, but isn't that just lovely? if your right eye causes you to sin...)—and anyway, who is she to judge? she winks coyly. the crowd boos loudly.

the closest she's come to actually loathing an individual, as opposed to an individual's actions or their conflicting ideologies (which is what stokes the deep, undying flame of rage that burns inside her, exacerbated instead of lessened by the fact that she likes, instead of detests, humanity—she would find it far easier to be apathetic and pragmatic if she cared less and disliked the species on principle), comes in the form of her father and his ilk (she spent the ten years prior to the project killing them wherever she saw them in those she encountered, though she fled the entire east coast so as not to harm the originals). she also loves him, in spite of everything, in spite of wishing she did not. in that sense, though she antagonizes them in theory (aforementioned killings and the thefts that preceded them, the instructor she shot while returning from archery and the colleague of her father's whose hand she crushed with a croquet mallet, the party she drugged the night she left for good), she also avoids them — she left, quite simply, because she was afraid of what she would do if she stayed.

✨ WHAT MOTIVATES THEM? IS IT A DEEP ROOTED PASSION/MOTIVATION, OR IS IT SOMETHING THEY STRUGGLE WITH FROM TIME TO TIME?

to make herself, all that she is and all that she isn't, mean something. if she cannot be good, if she cannot be loved, she will be what she is; she will be the monster that hunts all others. she will be the predator the predators deserve. she will be the wrath of god. she's already damned—it will not be for nothing. it cannot be for nothing. arguably she only falters in this the first few years past the collapse, because she had fully intended for her life to end then and there—she did not count herself among those who belonged in the real world, she meant to burn along with the rest of the damned, and that she did not, that she has lost everything, that others have died and she is still breathing, leaves her physically and mentally comatose. (she is pulled from this the only way she could be—the voice returns, and she has a purpose again. her work is not done, and that is that.)

✪ HAVE THEY EVER LET A RARE OPPORTUNITY SLIP THEM BY?

truthfully? no. she will wonder this, of course—might things have been different at this moment, or this one, or this one?—but ultimately she finds little use in it. if an opportunity passes her by, it was likely not by her will, or it was something she did not and never would see an opportunity. on a meta level, sure; she missed the opportunity to use her family's abundant resources before she fled at the age of sixteen to get some goddamn therapy and reframe her thought processes instead of getting herself kicked out of every single boarding school in the country and one or two abroad. alas. otherwise, she is far more likely to seize upon a perceived opportunity she should not have done than to watch it slip through her fingers.

[ventruevitae]

💢, 👯‍♀️, 🌎, 🚫

💢 What is their moral alignment?

Kat is probably somewhere on the neutral good spectrum, usually. Of course, she can dip into more dubious categories if the situation calls for it, which can be pretty unsettling. 'Self preservation mode' also throws some of her morals out the window. But generally speaking, she'll go for options that seem morally correct. This does not prevent her from being petty on a minor scale, though.

Mitchell is somewhat similar, but she's harder pressed to get involved with conflicts these days. She'll help if it comes down to it, or if the situation seems otherwise hopeless, but she's more of an observer before all else. Neutral in actions, opinionated in thoughts. Unlike Kat, when Mitchell decides to get petty, she doesn't have a sliding scale for her actions. If she's decided to fuck someone over, the term 'minor inconvenience' suddenly vanishes from her vocabulary.

👯‍♀️ Do they have any notable allies/friends?

Kat's counts her coterie as most of the familiar faces of The Last Round, and her relationship with Nines Rodriguez has evolved from 'brief encounters while avoiding the vengeful eye of her Sire' to 'has half of her wardrobe stored at his Haven.' She's at least tangentially familiar with most of the major players in the local Anarch poplation, making it her business to stay aware of the goings-on in the city. She doesn't like to owe people favours, but has no qualms about a reversal of that set up.

Mitchell has been romantically involved with Beckett and Velvet Velour for a while now. By extension, she knows many kindred though Beckett's connections. She's a welcomed presence with the LA Anarchs, but they're definitely not at the level of a coterie. She's not nearly as enterprising as Kat is when it comes to her ability to network, and usually just ends up falling into people's paths rather than seeking them out intentionally.

🌎 Do they try to retain any part of their humanity? 

Kat is arguably more sentimental than she has any business being. It would probably be easier on her to actively seal off her heart & repress emotions, but she doesn't want to. In her mind, she's almost owed her connections & happiness after years of being deprived. She doesn't need to smoke, but she does anyway; she hangs onto the person she was almost spitefully, selfishly determined to still enjoy her existence.

Mitchell never felt like much of a person to begin with, struggling to connect with the people around her & floundering in her understanding of emotions. Outwardly, she actually doesn't come off that different than she did as a human, which is perhaps why she sees it as a bit of a pointless endeavour. Mitchell has always existed somewhere in the uncanny valley, and just keeps going as she has been all this time.

🚫 Have they ever broken one of the Traditions? (This is includes the Masquerade)

Not intentionally, but Kat has a history of violating Hospitality. She wasn't about to put a beacon on her location knowing that her sire wanted her dead. She's also violated Destruction more than once, and this was far more intentional. She doesn't see this as a problem, since it's not like she makes a point of killing other kindred senselessly. Those people did deserve to die, and the world will be no poorer for it.

If Mitchell keeps the Masquerade up, it's incidental. As a born-weirdo, she's used to people looking at her strangely. This strangeness is so innate it comes naturally, and any of the Malkavianisms that leak out in public are usually just brushed off. She has also killed kindred freely before, with less restraint than Kat's selective methods. Mitchell was in the Camarilla for all of five minutes, so she doesn't have that same burden of subconscious knowledge of rules to break.

asks.

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Sukea anon again (sorry for the rant)

I'm a sucker for tragedies and my brain immediately jumps to Sukea ultimately having to fight Obito (either as Tobi or unmasked) while Kakashi recuperates after getting injured or something and just- the *angst* potential!!

About Kakashi and Sukea's fight, I like to imagine both were in anbu for a while and that's what ultimately led Sukea to be disillusioned and desert, leaving Kakashi to try and keep others from going after him despite their strained relationship. I also like to think that after the whole Orochimaru fiasco, Sukea encounters Tenzo at some point and gets an update on how his brother is doing (arguably) better when it comes to others.

Let me just add I'm totally picturing Sukea and Gai being pen pals lmao.

On another angsty note, Sukea, Gai, Rin, and Kakashi were like a quartet for the brief period of time after Obito's 'death' and before Rin's. [Maybe this is where Sukea got the idea for using Rin's cheek marks later on, he was formally adopted into their family (and maybe Kakashi was too but he rejected the invitation)] Sure there was some tension at times and things that needed addressing but they had fun and got to be kids for a little while together.

Last thing lmao, not sure where I got the idea but in this mini world I occasionally think about I imagine Kakashi at some point learned how to mix a specific shade of purple and gifts it to his brother on special occasions, and this is the eyeshadow that Sukea likes to use. (Of course, he doesn't tell Sukea he's the one making them for the longest time)

Oh i LOVE the idea of Kakashi making eye shadow for Sukea. I wrote a fic once where Kakashi buys him the make-up but this sounds even better. Kakashi struggles verbally saying ‘i love you’ so he has to find other ways to do it and who he’s trying to say it makes a difference in how he displays that love

For Sukea, it’s that small gift. Something Kakashi can do to show him that he cares and loves him, but without having to try to force himself to say it (he can say it to himself but not to the person)

And Sukea fighting Obito. Perhaps Kakashi goes down with the big reveal and Gai’s trying to pull him back but he’s soiraling really bad, so Sukea steps forward and faces Obito while Gai gets his brother back into action

Also, Tsunade or Kakashi going to sukea to inform him about the war. Maybe Sukea runs into Kakashi while he’s out with Naruto (after taking him to try and pleas for Sasuke’s life with A) and learns about the war and Kakashi’s appointment to hokage from Gaara.

He’d be so worried about Kakashi in that moment because he knows Kakashi’s terrified of being given positions of responsibility and failing again. Sukea following Kakashi back to Konoha for the first time in years because he needs to make sure his brother is ok, and then he ends up being roped into the war efforts and placed onto one of the divisions (probably not the tactical. I feel like Sukea wouldn’t fit as well in that one)

[lemonhemlock]

This might have been covered already, you get a lot of asks! I’m sure I’m not the first. But I find people view Aemond’s (incredibly brief) recollection of his brothel visit with Aegon one of two ways - either the interaction with the madame is to set him up as a hardcore milf hunter to foreshadow his relationship with Alys (which, yk, arguably couldn’t be more different from the stereotypical young guy/older woman lol) or it was a trauma and Aemond views it as such.

I obviously can’t speak for what the show was going for, because it’s two lines and a very brief exchange in which he says nothing lol,but idk if it’s that black and white? I viewed it more as a) another way to underline how Aemond and Aegon are different, in that Aegon has been frequenting brothels/etc since he was quite young and is well known to them, while Aemond only recalls the singular place his brother took him and b) Aemond resents Aegon for both the way he discusses things like this (feminist king) and also thinks it’s another thing that makes Aegon unworthy of the crown. His look at the madame seems awkward, but idk if it’s much more than that- and, even in modern, real world times, it’s still awkward to run into the person who took your virginity if you haven’t seen them in 6 years 😂

Obviously from a modern pov, sending a 13 year old to have sex with a prostitute is pretty messed up, but within the context of the time, it reads (to me) more as Aegon goading him into something, rather than a clear and explicit SA backstory for Aemond.

I obviously can’t speak for what the show was going for, because it’s two lines and a very brief exchange in which he says nothing lol,but idk if it’s that black and white?

I think this is the most well-balanced assessment of that scene, honestly. To me it looks awkward and uncomfortable, like Aemond is not remembering this encounter with particular fondness. HOWEVER, there only a couple of vague lines exchanged and, if the writers cared to take this any further and expand upon it, they could go in a variety of different ways without being far-fetched. They could go the traumatic SA way or they could make it "not that big of a deal" / forgiveable (ofc, as you said, we know that there is no way a 13 yo could consent, but they could do their best to "minimize" its negative effects, I guess). But most likely they're just going to leave it as vague as it is, I don't imagine Aegon & Aemond are going to have a heart to heart about this.

[inventedworld]

INFLUENCERS

A significant number of readers can probably recall a time when substantial creative works actually played a role in shaping broader cultural conversations. A casual perusal of important books from the 1980s immediately recalls the many ways their contents suffused American life, even among those who haven’t read them. Consider this short list:

The Color Purple

Neuromancer

The Satanic Verses

The Bonfire of the Vanities

A Brief History of Time

I’m conscious of how influential creative expressions from previous eras delivered their cultural payloads through different media mechanisms than they do today. (We can leave that examination for another day.) I’m also focusing on the 1980s precisely because the media landscape in that decade describes global cultures avant les déluge.  Anyone remember just how much cultural muscle the magazine market exerted with weekly articles and photo-spreads? Make a sandwich, open a magazine, read something with lunch: ordinary behavior in 1980. The implications of that behavior, however, extend far beyond simply consuming content in non-electronic formats. A culture capable of even casually reading anything — car magazines, gossip magazines, music magazines, newspapers— meant its citizens were capable of simply focusing on something—anything—for more than a fleeting moment, by which I mean minutes not seconds. Hold that thought (if you can focus for more than a fleeting moment), ‘cause I’ll be back to it shortly.

In the 1980s, things began to change. No single factor provoked this, although multiple contemporaneous forces converged, as is often the historical norm during moment of profound change.  (For your consideration: the end of The Cold War; satellite communications; personal computers)  Pop music encountered, for better or worse, the second British Invasion, amplified by the era’s biggest meme machine, MTV. Hollywood, for better or worse, began to get its hands around the idea of tentpole properties—think Back to the Future and Indiana Jones— rather than “major motion pictures” from the previous decade —think Apocalypse Now and Chinatown. CNN inaugurated the first 24-hour news cycle in any medium. Nobody watched it very much in the beginning, but the awareness that such a thing existed at all—24 hours of news every day!—rapidly changed expectations about how often anyone might need or want updated information about anything.

I started this essay focusing on books for a reason. Books, I believe, often amount to leading cultural indicators of deep cultural changes, as well as simultaneous mechanisms for making sense of where we’ve already been. The list at the top suggests both. In just five titles, we see windsocks about identity politics, technological inseparability from all aspects of modern life, and existential examinations placed in the cultural foreground. Even among the many people who did not read these titles, these books and a small pile of others profoundly changed the cultural conversation. They were influencers. If you have any doubt about their profound influence [sic], consider:

The Color Purple has recently been turned into a movie for the second time, and continues to function as a vital engine for cultural dialogue

Apple released what might arguably be the first mainstream mirrorshades

Western tensions with wide portions of the Islamic world have not abated

Wealth disparities have expanded and become more visible and more divisive

Scientific and technical conversations have become a daily part of ordinary life, including extraordinary telescopes designed to rewrite our understanding of our own cosmic origin story

Change accelerated in the 1990s. Clearly there were other titles of profound influence: Infinite Jest prognostically anticipated the ubiquitously commercialized future. The Things They Carried looked backwards—and prognostically forwards—at the timeless experiences of soldiers at war.  But one event on August 6, 1991 shredded everything. You’re reading this essay on the outgassed exhalations of that initial moment of ignition. That day, the World Wide Web appeared with its first publicly facing page, offering the potential for a million monkeys to write neo-Shakespearean verse.  

The expression “fast forward”  ironically recalls an analogue world of magnetic tape spinning on spindles. Now it’s a cute anachronism. Therefore, fast forward to today and recall my earlier charge to consider minutes not seconds. Today’s influencers provoke us to engage with information at the metaphorically atomic scale. Largely gone from the day-to-day national dialogue are long-form magazine articles. It’s true that long form essays still appear online and in the quaint printed pages of The New Yorker, The Atlantic, The Sunday New York Times, and a handful of others. But those print pages are essentially dead sheafs of tree pulp (sad), and their online versions do not have the same cultural influence they may have had in decades past.  They may be sharable, and thus easier to share (I mean, obviously), but I do not believe that broader cultural dialogue hangs on modern “sharables” in the same ways that millions of people used to wait for the latest cover stories in Time or Newsweek.  

Airport lounges present fewer book covers facing opposing chairs than ever before, replaced with the anodyne backs of cell phones held by slack jawed travelers lost in endless scrolls. Movies themselves have been relegated to last-option slouch sessions on couches, often broken up by refrigerator raids and distracting images on second screens competing for attention. Music these days is…strange. Songs appear in endless streams and playlists, separated from albums, floating adjacent to the artists themselves. To paraphrase a song in the Wizard of Oz, “Click-click here, click-click there, and a couple of tra-la-las…that’s how we move our thumbs all day….!”

What’s constant, as usual, is change. Nobody gets wildly excited about tulip bulbs anymore, but clearly people still get excited about all sorts of other stuff. Excitement does not equate to influence, however. What captures my attention and makes me worry is that the influence invested by simply the constant pursuit of stimulation has largely supplanted any actual influence from creative work. Influencers have become their own source material, rather than the source material influencing new creators. There are no longer movies in common cultural conversation, no novels that everyone can cite, precious few collective moments that remind us we’re not alone. As if to amplify this point, it’s worth noting that the trend continues to accelerate. As culture becomes more and more self-cannabalizing, we’re just about to usher in artificial intelligence to supercharge the recursive process. Soon even our own sharables will become synthetic creations of soulless systems. 

In other words, après vous, le déluge. 

@michaelstarobin

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