#but its a small tag and my timeline is feeding me my own drawings a lot lately and Im like.. ohh damn oops

[prettymediocrewizard]

I'm predicting I'm going to end up drawing a lot of sketches this winter instead of bigger finished pieces, but I'm kind of curious, do people prefer waiting for sketch dumps? or do I continue being a creature with little restraint and just post what I draw that day and post more often ???

[mrsalwayswrite]

Magic and Firelight (Ivar x reader)

Oh God. you know how I said I never write smut....apparently I lied. I blame this entire thing on @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom​ and @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie​ for encouraging this. All. Their. Faults. 

This one-shot was inspired by the moodboard created by the ever-lovely @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom​ for a challenge. In the challenge she had to use Ivar, MagicAU and Licking....so I made sure to incorporate those themes into this written one-shot.  

Also this does not fit anywhere in the Vikings timeline because I want everyone alive and marginally happy, ok? So everyone lives in Kattegat but think season 5a Ivar. 

Warnings: SMUT, unexpected feels, like one swear word. 

Words: 4200

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius​ @evelynshelby​ @pomegranates-and-blood​ 

reminder: not my moodboard. this entire, glorious thing belongs to @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom​ who was kind enough to let me use it.

  Revelry filled the air, coating everything in the Great Hall like a fresh snowfall. The feast was well underway. The smell of roasted meat and ale rose steadily into the air, along with the laughter and cheers of those still in attendance. A contest of strength just finished, the loser ending up with blood dripping from his nose, tainting his teeth, as he laughed uproariously. 

 A joyous shout shot through the hall. The signal of the next form of entertainment. Fists pounded on the tables in delight, a few exclamations arising amongst the sound. All noise ceased when a slow drumbeat began, like the echo of a steady heart. It sunk into the skin, traveling to the chest until one's heartbeat matched in echo. 

 Ivar shifted in his seat near the base of the thrones. They both sat empty behind him, his mother having retired long ago, and Ragnar at a nearby table with Floki and a few others, laughing with a flushed face and ale horn in hand. Glancing around his table, he could see the wild excitement in his brothers' eyes…. for they all knew what came next. 

 As the drumbeat started to increase, the first of the swirling dancers emerged. Their bodies covered in thin fabric that teased as much as it covered, leaving one longing for a glimpse only to be denied as she continued her provocative movements. The six beautiful women moved through the tables like swans gliding through water, each step, each sway of their hips graceful and in tune with the beat.

 "Who are they?" Ivar asked gruffly. These women were not the normal entertainment at a feast. Nor did he did not recognize any of them. 

 "They came with a trader from the Mediterranean." Ubbe answered, never removing his eyes from the dancers. "He petitioned with father yesterday to allow them the chance to entertain us in the way of their people…. or something along those lines."

 "Remind me to ask that trader where they are specifically from, because I know where I am going to explore next." Hvitserk stated with a smirk. 

 Ubbe bumped shoulders with Hvitserk, an unspoken agreement in the action. 

 Ivar rolled his eyes at their antics and turned his gaze back to the dancers…. Only to freeze when one locked eyes with him. 

 She stood across the fire, the flames appeared to lick and dance upon her skin. Every curve, each dip of her luxurious body highlighted in the flickering light. Her hair hung long, swaying with each movement, its own form of enticement. It was those eyes though, that held him spellbound to her. Large, luminous orbs that seemed to peer into his soul, that stole the very breath from his lungs. All he could do was stare as she danced. Each movement was pure elegance and seduction. The whole time those mesmerizing eyes kept him spellbound, oblivious to all but her. With her eyes locked on him, it felt she danced only for him. Each twirl of her body, each shake of her barely clad hips, her hands tracing patterns in the air, it all felt like a dance to entrance him. To maintain his attention. To rile up his blood and desire for her. To make him yearn for her with his whole body and soul. 

 When she finally released him from her gaze to spin away, he gasped in a lungful of air. Not realizing until now how he had forgotten to breathe while watching her, so enthralled by her, even air became unnecessary. 

 "You alright, Ivar?"

 The raven-haired Ragnarsson looked at Hvitserk, noticing the smile that teased the corners of his mouth. 

 "This is the closest he's seen a naked woman besides Margrethe and we all know how that went." Sigurd snarked, bringing his cup of ale to his lips. 

 "Shut up before I rip your tongue out and feed it to the flames." He snarled at his curly-haired brother. Fury stirred in the hollow of his chest like a wild animal threatening to tear apart its cage. 

 Ubbe smacked the table. "Enough. Both of you."

 The table quieted as their focus returned to the dancers. Eyes searching the hall, a slow-growing panic simmered in Ivar's gut as he could not see her. The other five dancers spun and twirled about, their bodies an example of art in motion. 

 Without warning, the gentle touch of a hand on his shoulder caused his head to whip to the side, ready to demand blood from the one with the audacity to touch him…. Only to be met with those eyes that made him flustered and hot all over. 

 With her touches tender, she trailed her hand from his shoulder up his neck to cup the side of his face. Even if the need arose, he would be unable to remove himself from her sensual touch and her penetrating gaze, bewitched by her to remain still. Never before had he felt so exposed to someone. Even the times when he broke bones and had to be carried like a child, humiliation ripping into his skin. Now he felt undone as she beheld him, consumed by her with just a look. If the other dancers were art, then she, this divine beauty beside him, was a masterpiece, crafted by the gods themselves.

 Waves of jealousy rolled off his brothers, crashing against him like stormy waves on a beach but for once, he did not care. His eyes stayed glued to her, hypnotized by her very presence. 

 Suddenly he found himself facing her, unable to remember when he turned away from the table. She stood between his brace-clad legs, gazing down at him. Her fingers traced over his cheek, only to land at his mouth. Her thumb rubbed his bottom lip, encouraging his lips to part. Unable to resist her, he obliged, lips parting slightly. She made no further move, either to draw away or closer. His heart beat rapidly with excitement and mischief. A streak of wicked intent made his lips curl slightly, giving him away. His leather-bound hands reached out for her thighs; the soft skin almost foreign beneath his calloused-hardened fingers. In the same instant, he nipped at her thumb, still lingering on his bottom lip. Then he waited for her reaction with an impish smirk.  

 She chuckled, a sultry, honeyed sound that flowed straight to his useless cock and made him shiver in delight. 

 Never removing her eyes from his, she reached down to grab one of his hands on her exposed thighs. Then torturously slow, she guided it up the contours of her body, his hand caressing her hip, up her stomach and between her full breasts until his hand was at her mouth. Without waiting, she encouraged two of his fingers within. As her tongue swiped and sucked on his fingers like they were a tasty treat, Ivar lost all ability to think or resist. His hand still on her, gripped her thigh to ground himself, to confirm this was not a dream. 

 Women never paid attention to him, never looked at him with lust. After the latest raid in England where he proved his prowess in strategy and as a warrior, less women looked at him with disgust.

 But never this. 

 Never had one put him under a spell that made him want to sell his soul to possess her. Never had he seen desire darken a woman's eyes as they beheld him. Never had his own body and mind reacted with such a carnal, animalistic instinct. 

 He pulled his fingers from her mouth and dropped his hand to curl around her throat with just the slightest pressure. "Are you a thrall?"

 "No." She answered in a breathy tone, that only intensified his growing lust. Then she leaned closer, her lips brushing his ear, those barely contained breasts almost in his face. "Do with me what you want, Ivar the Boneless. I am yours tonight."

 Whatever previous desire bubbled in his veins exploded at hearing her alluring whisper. A guttural groan lodged in his throat. The hunger for her reached an all-consuming, feverish pitch. Without a word, he pushed himself to his feet, slipping the crutch under his arm. "Come."

 He half expected her to laugh and walk away but instead, she traced a hand down the tunic over his torso with a purr of pleasure. Then when she looked up at him coyly once more, he was halfway to throwing her onto the table behind him to ravish her right there. 

 She silently followed him back to his room. The whole walk his mind raged, both in desire and fear. He knew he could not pleasure her as a man but this ethereal creature that followed him deserved to be worshipped. And she had chosen him tonight. Out of all those in the hall, including his brothers…. she chose him. 

 He vowed to make sure she did not regret it. 

 He dismissed his personal thrall as they walked in, pleased to see the fire lit in the small hearth and furs laid out before it. The door closed, echoing in the room. Once alone, he moved over to sit on a nearby stool, leaning his crutch on the wall behind him. 

 She watched the fire, standing in the middle of his room. Her clothing appeared almost translucent in this light, a way of directing and guiding the eye along her perfect body. 

 "Take off your clothes." He commanded in a husky tone. 

 With a seductive wink back at him, she tugged on the few ties keeping the minimal clothing on her flawless body. In a moment, everything pooled at her feet….and he damn near swallowed his tongue. Bare before him, he was convinced there was nothing more stunning, more gorgeous than her. She put every sunset to shame, every spring flower, every star to grace the night sky, nothing could ever compare to her. 

 "Dance for me, my beauty." 

 A beguiling smile on her lips, she watched him for a moment. Then she began to move. A slow sway of her hips, hands trailing up her body to rise above her head. 

 There was no force that could tear his gaze away from her. When she danced in the Great Hall, he had been memorized…. but now, it would be sinful to remove his eyes from her graceful form. The circular motion of her hips, her hands tracing the curves of her body, the heavy-lidded eyes that watched him. He wanted nothing more than to sit at her feet for eternity and watch her dance. To worship at her altar and bestow her with gifts from the Aesir. 

 Then she began to spin slowly, allowing him to see all of her, a music leading her that only she was aware of. At one point, she squatted down and slowly rose, only to snap her hips up in a way that made him audibly growl. His hands were clenched in his lap, desperate to touch her, to replace her hands with his as they caressed her body. 

 Finally he could stand it no longer, this enchanting, sensual dance that made his blood boil ceaselessly with desire. 

 He swallowed thickly, mouth dry. "Go by the fire." He demanded. 

 If she was confused by his command, she said nothing. Turning around she sashayed over to the furs laid in front of the small hearth in his room. His eyes greedily drunk in the curves of her body as she moved. She laid down on the pile of furs before the hearth, unashamed in her nudity. With the colors of the flames and shadows painted across her body, she appeared ethereal. Something only for the gods to view. Perfection at its purest form.

 Sitting on the stool, he quickly worked the straps of his braces, never taking his eyes off her. Unwilling to miss her glory for even a moment. She laid on her side, gaze on him. One hand propped her head up while the other skimmed those curves highlighted by the flames. 

 Once freed, he crawled over to her like the predator he was. Hunger and domination with each placement of his hands and shift of his shoulders. There was no doubt who was in control. His fierce gaze never removed from her, keeping her pinned with the same strength as if ropes held her down. As he approached, she silently rolled onto her back, an intensity in those eyes as they watched him and a kittenish smile on her lips. With that, he crawled up her body until he hovered over her, blanketing her perfect form. Then he waited. Staring down at her, he was shocked once again that she chose him. That she currently lay beneath, pliant to his touch and commands. It was a powerful and dark sensation. To have this control, this power over her….to have her at his mercy. A more rapturous feeling than killing Christian priests or obliterating any army. 

 "Ivar…." She sighed out, tracing the line of his jaw with her finger. "Don't keep me waiting."

 A crooked grin grew on his face. Here lay this Valkyrie, this goddess, this divine creature beneath him, begging for him. Without wasting a moment, his mouth descended on her skin, his arms holding himself just above her. He placed open-mouth kisses along her chest, loving the soft sounds of pleasure it drew from her. His tongue traced the curve of her breasts, paying special attention to the tattoo of a flower between them. Suddenly he drew one of her nipples into his mouth, causing her back to arch. Her hand flew up to grip his braids, as he sucked and licked the bud until it was hard and peaked, then he switched to the other side to repeat his ministrations. 

 "Ivar…." She moaned, tugging on his braids, hips rolling beneath them. 

 "Shhhh…. soon." He nipped at the side of her breast, pleased with the heat that flared in her eyes. "We go at my pace…. and I plan on taking my time."

 Slowly he slithered his way down her body, his tongue leading the way over her soft skin. There was nowhere he did not worship with his mouth, nowhere safe that his tongue did not covetously explore. By the time he was done with her, his mouth and tongue intimately knew every inch of her and the erotic sounds those spots drew from her lips. With a long swipe of his tongue starting at her sternum, he trailed it down between her breasts to her belly only to end at the top of her womanhood. 

 He glanced up from between her legs, the scent of her arousal a beacon for him to follow. She laid there, bathed in flames, coated in his saliva, chest rising and falling like the waves of the seas, with her eyes closed and mouth partly open. Never had he witnessed anything more magnificent. 

 "Still with me, my beauty?"

 Her eyes fluttered open to peek at him, a tantalizing smile on her lips. "Always."

 With that, he dove into her. His mouth feasted on the juices coming from her womanhood. It was nothing like he expected. She tasted sweeter than honey, stronger than ale. He continued to lap and lick her, wanting more, needing more of her taste. For he swore, this was the nectar of the gods. A sweet ambrosia not meant for mortal men. 

 Her cries of pleasure doubled his resolve to ravish her with his tongue. To bring her such pleasure that she would always remember him. He flicked at her clit with his tongue, watching her keen to the ceiling above. Her hips rolled as he sucked at her folds with reckless abandon. 

 Each mewl and cry from her mouth, made him feel like a god. Each chanting of his name seemed to strengthen his body to continue. Even as he laid on the floor, propped up on his elbows, her legs over his shoulders, he felt no pain. As if her ecstasy flowed back into him. Instead of the constant ache of pain from his legs that clawed at his mind ceaselessly, for once it was silenced. All he was aware of…. was her. As if she invaded his body and possessed his mind. 

 If he was to die now, with her cries of pleasure filling his ears, he knew Odin would still allow him into Valhalla. For to bring this celestial being pleasure must be akin to the glory of battle. His blood roared in his ears, forcing him to continue, desperate for more. Her taste on his tongue was a craving he never knew he had until now. In the cradle of her thighs was his new favorite place to exist. 

 When she peaked, when her pleasure overwhelmed her and his name was screamed into the very heavens above, he greedily ate away at her, drinking everything down and still yearning for more. He licked at her womanhood through the aftershocks, her taste and scent all his senses wanted to know. 

 Once satisfied, he peered up at her, expecting to see her blissed-out, eyes closed and immobile. Instead what he witnessed made him freeze, unable to move.

 She observed him with eyes that glowed like two full moons on the darkest of nights. 

 Where once he had been the predator, intent on devouring her, adamant to possess her…. now he understood. He was the prey. He was the one caught in the spider's web. He was the one now owned by her alone. Those glowing eyes entranced him, preventing him from looking away, sealing his mouth shut to call out. Unable to do anything but gawk at her in a bewildered, longing awe. 

 Slowly she leaned up, staring at him. He could not remember moving. All his mind could fathom were those eyes…. those glowing orbs that he swore had seen Valhalla, that galaxies swirled amidst, that stole his soul and branded her mark on him. When he next blinked, he was sitting, with her straddling his lap, in all her exquisite, naked glory. Her eyes beheld him with softness, her hands a gentle weight on his shoulders, even her bare breasts pressed against his chest, all of it alluded a power that could only be answered with reverence. 

 "Who…. are you?" He stuttered out. 

 She smiled; a captivating thing that made him want to worship her again but also sink his teeth into her bottom lip. "I have been called many things throughout my life. But tonight, those names do not matter. Tonight, I am simply y/n…. Tonight, I am here for you."

 "Y/n?"

 She purred as if the name stoked a fire within her. "Yes, my valiant warrior." Her hand tangled in his braids again, almost guiding his head to the side as her plump lips skimmed his jawline. "I have heard your prayers, seen your cries. I cannot give you your legs but I will give you what I can."

 A quake raced up his spine. "What?"

 "Shhhh…. surrender to me." 

 Hesitantly, she pressed her lips to his, as if giving him time to pull away. Instead, he felt a jolt shoot through him. He groaned, opening his mouth, allowing her to take control. He had thought her taste as he lapped greedily at her core was ambrosia, but her mouth…. oh, the taste of her mouth was both death and life combined. Something so intoxicating and potent, it stole the very breath from his lungs while a vitality bleed into his veins simultaneously.  Her mouth held him prisoner, a melding of their lips and tongues that scorched him in every way deliciously possible. 

 "Do you feel it?" She whispered, before delving into his mouth again with an even greater need. 

 And he did. By this point, his legs should be screaming at him, especially with her weight on his thighs. Instead there was no pain, no ache. Only blissful tingles danced on his nerves and a fire stirred in his belly. 

 He wrenched his mouth from hers, eyes wide and panting as he gawked at her. 

 "I cannot heal you," she quietly said, eyes still glowing, "but I can take some of your pain in exchange for the pleasure you gave me."

 Unexpected tears welled in his eyes. Pain, his constant companion since birth, now was barely a blip on his mental radar. He dropped his head to her chest, overwhelmed by the lessened pain and bliss coursing through his veins. As he thought about it, as he feasted on her, every lick, every caress of his tongue against her, pain drained from his body like slow droplets of water. It was only now he noticed, so caught up in her exquisite taste, that he easily could become drunk on and never wish to be sober again. 

 She spoke against his ear, authority and power ringing in each word. "Hear my words, Ivar the Boneless. Your fame will live on for generations. You will not be forgotten, in this life or the next. This is my final gift that I give you."

 She drew his face back to hers, pressing her lips to his in a fiery, desperate kiss. Her words, her touch, her taste, everything felt seared into the very marrow of his bones. A burst of white light and ecstasy flooded through him, making him wonder for a second if he died. 

 When he opened his eyes, mind hazy as if intoxicated, it was to find himself alone. Frantic, he looked around. Yet there was nothing to show of her presence. Not even her discarded clothes lay on the floor anymore. 

 "No….no, no, no." He mumbled, refusing to believe she was gone…. but there was no denying the truth. Yet even as he sat there, tears still slipping down his cheeks, he could feel her presence with the absence of pain. He could still taste her on his tongue. Strength and vitality flowed through his crippled body in ways he had never felt before. 

 He was unsure how long he sat there before a quick knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. It opened to reveal Hvitserk who cautiously stepped in, eyes scanning the room. 

 "You alright, brother?"

 Ivar wondered at the stupid question then realized he must be referring to the evidence of tears still staining his cheeks. Hastily he wiped them away on his sleeve. "What are you doing here?"

 "We thought we heard something…. I came to check on you." He tilted his head and scanned the room once again. "Where is she?"

 Ivar turned his face to the fire, without answering. How could he explain all that just occurred without sounding mad? That a glorious being chose him, used him for her pleasure and then gave him priceless gifts. No, no one would believe that. This was a memory, a present for him alone to cherish. 

 "You know if you need advice with pleasuring a woman, I am more than willing to help. They do call me the love guru." Hvitserk chuckled but immediately silenced at the stony glare Ivar sent his way. "Um, right. Well, I'll head back out." He started to walk away but stopped at Ivar's call. 

 "Wait!" When Hvitserk turned back around, Ivar swallowed thickly then continued. "What…. what color are my eyes?"

 The flaxen-haired brother moved closer. "Um, blue…. a vibrant blue…. they almost look like they are glowing but with a veil over them. I've never seen them like that before. Are you feeling alright? Do you want help getting to your bed?"

 Ivar smiled longingly, his chest squeezing at his brother's words. "No….no, I feel… I feel great, Hvitty."

 "Um, sure. Do you need anything?"

 "No, you can go back out to the feast."

 "Okay, good night, Ivar."

 Ivar did not answer, only just hearing the door closing as turned back to face the dancing flames. His mind drifted to thinking about her, his beauty. 

 Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something nestled between the furs. Carefully he maneuvered himself over to gently grab it, curiosity pushing him forward despite caution. Cradling it in his hand like a priceless treasure, he now could see what it was; a pendant, only the size of his thumb, but it was in the color and shape of a full moon and an etching that matched the tattoo of the flower between her breasts. 

 "Y/n." He whispered, as if prompted by something to say her name. To his surprise, the pendant glowed faintly for a moment, so reminiscent of her eyes before dulling back. 

 "Thank you." He slipped his necklace off with Thor's hammer and added the pendant. Once back on his neck, he lifted the pendant and kissed it, only to stifle a moan as the faintest hints of her taste tingled on his lips. 

 Feeling euphoric, he laid back on the pile of furs, pressing the pendant to his lips. He closed his eyes, trying to remember every moment with her. He prayed that he could see her once again, either in this life or in Valhalla. For he knew, there would never be another like her. He had no idea who or what she was, only the name she gave him. A name that would be branded upon his heart and soul for all eternity. 

[senorarelojes]

Pizzaverse artwork and ficlet: 'A Little Piece'

@maiyashu made this really cute and beautiful Instagram post of Pizzaverse Dave being silly and drawing little monsters/creatures on the notes he leaves for Alan and their kids around the house. Of course, Alan shows off his husband's work on Instagram. Under the artwork is an accompanying ficlet set in the future for the Pizzaverse timeline. Thank you dear Shu for your gorgeous (and funny) artwork! Happy Father's Day to the boys!

Title: A Little Piece Pairing: Dave/Alan Rating: General Tags: Pizzaverse, Kid Fic, Fluff

Dave was always amused whenever Alan teased him about being the one in their relationship who was more addicted to social media. It seemed they were both on an even keel; Alan posted more often, while Dave had a variety of accounts across various platforms that he’d lost interest in after the initial posting frenzy. They had their different addictions too: Dave liked the spontaneity of Twitter and TikTok, while Alan for some reason preferred Facebook and Reddit. But Instagram was their common vice, and most of their friend circle were on it as well.

Before fatherhood, Dave had imagined that his use of social media would dwindle because he simply wouldn’t have the time. But instead he’d found the opposite to be true: now he wanted to post about Alan, Paris and Stella all the time, and he didn’t even care if no one outside their family and a few chosen friends would find it cute.

Of course, both Dave and Alan took care to obscure the faces of their daughters. But the adorable things they did were up for grabs: Paris’ first steps, then followed by Stella’s in a few years. Their first stuffed toys. Their first drawings. Dave shamelessly spammed his IG feed with various pictures and videos, and refused to feel bad about it because Martin was doing the same with his kids, and so was Fletch, who seemed convinced that his daughter was a maths prodigy.

Of course, Dave posted pictures of Alan on his feed as well. Naturally his husband was usually included if it was a picture or video with one of the girls, such as Alan helping Paris with her homework or feeding Stella at dinnertime. But sometimes Dave saved a few precious shots he’d snuck on his phone, like Alan frowning at the computer in his tiny makeshift home studio, or stealing a rare moment after the girls had gone to bed to listen to one of the many records he owned. Those didn’t get as many likes and comments as anything Dave posted of the girls, but he didn’t care much.

In truth, Dave would have probably gone on like this if Alan hadn’t taken him aside one night and asked him why he’d stopped posting pictures of his art. “My art?” Dave echoed, genuinely surprised that Alan had been keeping track because Dave certainly hadn’t.

“Yeah, your paintings.” Alan gestured towards Dave’s most recent effort, which was a white cat posing regally by a candle. Even that had been painted more than a year ago, before Stella had come into their lives. “You don’t really post them anymore. Or paint much more, for that matter.”

Dave just kept staring at Alan in astonishment. When they had gotten married and subsequently made the decision to become parents via surrogacy, it had been pretty much an unspoken agreement between them that family and work would have higher priority. This meant their hobbies were naturally the first thing to be sacrificed for time, and Dave had been fine with that. They hadn’t touched the band in years, not since the last time everyone had performed at Martin’s wedding.

But now Dave realised that he missed painting with an ache like a phantom limb, like something that had always been a part of him was now oddly missing. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d picked up a paintbrush for the hell of it. Everything he’d designed or illustrated over the past year had solely been for work, and that thought pained him like a spike through his solar plexus.

In contrast, Alan - who had always been very driven and disciplined - seemed to have no problem reviving his interests in mixing and composing after Stella had started sleeping at more regular hours. So Dave didn't even have the excuse of fatherhood.

“You should pick it up again,” Alan told him with a gentle squeeze of his hand, before moving on to the topic of Father’s Day, which was coming up. Dave just nodded distractedly when Alan suggested ordering in brunch from a nice restaurant, still preoccupied with thoughts of Alan’s mind-blowing revelation.

After that conversation with Alan, Dave decided to try and carve out time for painting. Although that wasn’t always possible, he did want to show Alan he was trying, so he started with small gestures. If he left reminders and post-its for Alan around the house, he’d be sure to draw a funny cartoon to accompany his loopy handwriting, like a sentient postbox (to remind Alan to go to the post office) or a funny caricature of Martin and Fletch (to ask Alan if he wanted to have dinner and catch up with them).

Alan never really mentioned the little drawings beyond an amused eye-roll, but Dave knew Alan was never particularly verbose about his true sentiments anyway. Dave had learned to look towards Alan’s actions instead. Sure enough, Alan started taking pictures of Dave’s little drawings and posting them on Instagram with an accompanying dry and witty caption, along with the hashtag ‘#artisthusband’. To Dave’s surprise, it really took off among their friends and other family members, and Dave always had to fend off demands from his mum and Sue about more cute artwork everytime he called home.

Since Paris and Stella loved the drawings too, he started drawing little monsters for them on their paper lunch bags, which he would prepare for them before Alan would drop them off at daycare. It wasn’t long before Alan started posting these on Instagram too, and his comment section would get animated at times because Martin, Fletch, Paul, Daryl and the rest would start discussing which creature Dave had meant to draw. He didn’t have the heart to tell them he’d made them all up on the spot.

Having Alan’s support like this, even for his silly little drawings, was more fulfilling and touching than Dave had expected. So he’d really meant it when he said he was going to get art supplies, but more often than not Dave would get distracted and buy Elsa colouring books for the girls instead. Alan hadn’t said anything at all, but Dave knew how to read him pretty well by now. His husband was definitely planning something.

On the morning of Father’s Day, Dave was the first out of bed so he put in the order at the restaurant before going for a run in Hyde Park. His metabolism wasn’t what it used to be, and he’d gotten into the habit of eating off the girls’ plates whenever they couldn’t finish their food. Alan was a really good cook too, so Dave knew he had to fit in a run today if he was going to be feasting on french toast and eggs benedict for Father’s Day.

When he got home, he thought he spotted Alan in the study with a giggling Paris and Stella. “Hello, my loves,” he yelled out at the door, even more mystified when Alan quickly stepped out of the study with the girls, closing the door hurriedly behind them.

“The food’s just got delivered, I’ll set the table,” Alan told him with a too-bright smile. ‘You go shower first, yeah?”

Dave decided to let his suspicious behaviour go for now. “Alright, sure.” He loped over to where they were, giving Alan a brief kiss and a I’m-on-to-you squint before bending down to stretch his arms out to the girls. “Can I get a hug first?”

“Daddy’s stinky!” Paris protested laughingly, while an uncomprehending Stella just giggled along with her older sister.

Dave’s jaw dropped in mock outrage. “Stinky, am I? How about I make you stinky too, huh?” He pretended to chase a squealing Paris and Stella for a hug, laughing when they ran to hide behind an amused Alan’s legs.

“Just go shower, the food’s getting cold, you lunatic.” Alan shook his head at Dave with a grin before shepherding the girls to the dining area. Dave left him to it, washing up quickly so he could join his family for breakfast.

However, he wasn’t expecting to find Alan and the girls waiting for him outside the bedroom, all of them grinning innocently at him. “What’s going on?” a suspicious Dave asked.

Paris took his hand and tugged him to the study, Alan picking up Stella and following with her in his arms. When Paris pushed open the door, Dave stared in shock at the brand new easel waiting for him, along with the art supplies neatly piled on top of a blank canvas. He stepped forward, picking up the paints and brushes with trembling hands. Alan had gotten everything right, remembered every detail from when Dave used to paint before they’d gotten married and become fathers.

“I had to take a bit out of the holiday budget for this,” came Alan’s soft voice behind him. “But it’s worth it for me to delay our trip. I’d rather see you painting again.”

“We want more of Daddy’s paper monsters!” Paris declared gleefully, while Stella stared at all of them in bafflement.

“I--” Dave just couldn’t speak. His heart was so full, like it was going to overflow with joy and sentiment and his overwhelming love for his family. There were simply no words that could possibly encapsulate the emotions warring within him now, so instead he grabbed Alan and the girls to him in a tight hug, his breaths ragged and his eyes wet.

“Happy Father’s Day,” Alan said quietly, the smile evident in his voice even though Dave couldn’t quite see his face.

“You too, Al.” Dave pulled away to kiss him, then smothered his squealing girls with equal affection.

[shadowofthelamp]

Year in Review: Writing

So, I can’t do the ‘year in review’ for art because... yeah, I didn’t really draw that much this year. So I decided to trawl through my writing tag for one favorite piece per month, and a pulled few paragraphs from each! Basically everything here is Zim except for the one tendershipping week thing, lmao, oops.

Some months had slim pickings but I still do like every one of these and it was a nice reflection.

January: Arrival

Her skin was tinted a sickly green, more like decomposing flesh than irken or human. Dib swallowed, but her breathing seemed to be even when he placed a hand to her kind of chubby chest, so that was probably just how their skin colors mixed, right? Besides, the lighting in the lab was always weird. Her mouth was gummy with no teeth yet, but her vocal cords were functioning perfectly. He was going to need hearing aids by his twenties, between her and Zim.

She had four fingers and three toes, which he kind of expected, as well as a nose but no ears. That made sense, if she had antennae, but it was still strange to run his fingers along the sides of her head and just feel smooth skin.

Her eyes… they were Zim’s through and through, deep ruby with the color filling the sclera. Did irkens even have sclera if they only had one color? Under the lab’s lights and mixed with the way everything on her slightly shimmered from the sticky goo she'd been coated in, she was like a section of space stolen into the little room and it took his breath away. The water blurring his vision didn’t help as he wiped it away with his sleeve, shifting her to one arm. She was so small...

__________

February: WLOD Dib meets Twix, alt version

It’s fascinating, to see what could have gone right. The 1001 here had gangly, underdeveloped limbs, and wispy hair that never quite got clean from the showers. This version wasn’t fat or anything, but definitely had more meat on its bones.

He examined the goggles- peering through them, they altered its vision because they made the lab beyond the ‘glass’ blurry. Curious, very curious. He was about to pop the lens out when it began to stir, tugging at the metal restraints with a clatter.

_________

March: Zibvoid

He talked to himself.

He talked to himself.

He talked to Zim, who hadn’t said a word since he’d died, but maybe he was just giving him the silent treatment.

Round and round, the generator buzzed like a bee and a hospital and a bug zapper that would draw in prey like flies to a web, except he was the spider now and the Zims were the moths.

Dib. Dib Dib Dib Dib Zim Dibdibdibdibzimdibdibzimdib. The names popped off his tongue as he rolled them both in his mouth, over and over until they didn’t seem like names at all anymore.

__________

April: Sturdy Branches (I know the date’s different on ao3 but it was first posted April)

Her dad is either singing or talking to himself as he vacuumed inside the house with a sway in his hips. At least you’re pretty sure it’s her dad? You haven’t seen a picture of him or anything, but he’s about the same age as your dad, so he’s too old to be a brother and too young to be a grandpa, and she hasn’t mentioned any uncles. A babysitter, maybe, but that doesn’t really make sense since Tulip isn’t home yet- ah!

She’s talking to someone as she turns the corner, bouncing her backpack. It’s lilac and circular, as well as covered in buttons. The Ranger helmet is in her backpack or still in her locker, but either way, she’s not wearing it anymore. She’s got the boots on, though. You adjust the binoculars a bit, but you aren’t good enough at lip-reading yet to tell what she’s saying. Whatever it is, it’s making the girl she’s talking to laugh. Maybe she’ll tell you tomorrow in class or at lunch if you pull her to sit at your table again. She has more friends at the middle table, but they don’t like sitting next to you after the beetle incident, and she doesn’t seem to mind. She always has a big smile when you start talking, and she’d say something if she didn’t like you, right? Pretty much everybody else does.

_________

May: Do Something For You (TD spoilers!)

Dib had never really thought ahead to having a family, but she was pretty much everything she’d want in one. She was an assistant and a partner, she was invested in the paranormal, she hated Zim- but on the other hand, she didn’t want him hurt? She seemed weirdly invested in making sure he didn’t get caught, actually. Eh, she’d hit him pretty hard, so it wasn’t like she was opposed to him getting his rightful dues for being an evil space monster.

It was relatively simple- she was just worried if he died then her timeline would be destabilized, which was a decent enough concern. Zim had to be important to his life for years to come, in one way or another. But whatever they were dealing with in the future, it had to be better with Zim out of the way earlier, right?

__________

June: Unnamed capture au drabble

“Why do you even give me these stupid scripts if you don’t like me doing them?” Dib folded his arms, kneading the ball in his palm. “Just get a robot or something.” He snorted. “I mean, it’d probably break, like half the stuff you touch.”

Zim’s hands curled into fists. “Take that back, you- you- worm!”

Dib quirked an eyebrow. “What, touched a nerve? When I was a kid, half the stuff you made broke, it’s just a fact. You only conquered Earth because this place is a trash heap and your garbage is slightly better than ours.” Over a year in Zim’s presence without too many galling injuries and a lifetime of not being able to keep his mouth shut made him bold. “Honestly, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re probably broken yoursel-” He was cut off with a Pak leg aimed directly at his throat, prodding in just deep enough to draw a drop of blood down the alien metal.

Zim’s eyes were narrowed, but something was watering on the edges, and Dib swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing just below the leg’s tip.

“Zim. Is. Not. Broken.”

___________

July: Laughter

Ryou couldn't stand the lights on one minute and then hated having them off the next. The shadows bled from the way the light reflected off the couch, how it seemed to devour the wall behind it, and he swore he could still hear the voice in his mind. (Was that himself? Had he started thinking of himself as a separate voice? It had been ages since he'd really been alone, even though anyone outside him would have wondered about the boy who talked to his reflection like it was an old friend.)

He wished he could talk to Ryou. Ryou who had seemed so pliable as a child but had proved entertaining, a match for the fire, (heh, fire, even though it wasn't that funny, in fact, it wasn't funny at all, but what did he have but jokes? it wasn't like he could cry anymore) who carved out rules for use of the body with gritted teeth and tugged at the rope of the Ring so hard it had chafed his neck. He'd respected him. From a soft child, he'd hardened and grown firm, grown powerful, grown to be worthy. What were the odds fate had given him a chance at the same time someone had handed a young Yugi the box with the Puzzle? A roll of the dice. (The Gods having a last laugh, perhaps..)

Ryou dug his nails into the wood of the desk so hard that it made crescents, tiny moons in the umber that dug splinters into his pale fingers. The little model of the Thief King sat, as he always did, half-hidden on his shelf behind the pieces of Zorc. He'd never bothered to glue the monster back together but felt oddly reluctant to just incinerate the figures and be done with them. Both of them. Either of them. Maybe he just didn't want to pretend it had never happened. (Maybe he was worried he'd forget, thoughts and memories swept away by the sands of time, trickling down the hourglass, minute by minute, day by day, as he aged the way the Spirit had never been allowed to.)

___________

August: New Mission

It had been a month.

Nebula Twix had survived. She’d had to be popped into the healing pod when she had an allergic reaction to the oatmeal Dib had tried to feed her when it had inflamed her spooch, and Gir had tried to eat her head the one second Zim’s back had been turned, and she made goo from both ends a lot, but otherwise, she was perfectly fine!

And with that, Zim had come to a crossroads. It seemed that he was, indeed, in this for the long heel. (He was pretty sure that was the phrase. Humans liked large feet and large boots, so it made sense.) He could either continue to keep her a secret, or he could pass on his success to the Tallests.

Creating slaves out of the species marked for invasion was pretty common- something like 85% of invaders did it. But creating hybrids? That number was much lower. (Besides, they were usually disposed of as soon as the invasion was complete.) And irkens having those hybrids from their own bodies, and not just mixing them out of genetic slurry and quickly aging them up in time-fields? Almost completely unheard of. Zim was the pioneer in that area.

Also, having smeets from one’s body may have been a tad illegal, considering how hard it had been to find good information and judging from the fact that all irkens found to do it were brought in for experimentation. But no matter! Zim was nothing if not very, very good at things few other irkens dared to do, ready to drive the Empire forward by any means possible. They would have to appreciate that!

__________

September: Twix finds out she’s pregnant

Secondary life-form detected, the chamber chimed.

“Oh, gross, I’ve got a tapeworm? Well, flush it out.” Twix rolled her eyes, going back to the computer.

Lifeform has elements of Pak user.

Her finger froze on the ‘b’ key. “It… what? Analyze species origin.”

The chamber hummed around Twix as sweat dripped down the skin of her neck. There was a tiny 'ding!’ like a kitchen timer.

Lifeform is too underdeveloped to make more than approximations, but is roughly 25% irken and 75% Dominant Earth Species.

Her scream rattled the walls.

__________

October: Best-Laid Plans

“Of course, Number One.” Two turned his head slightly, and Dib jolted- he hadn’t directly commanded him to do that. “Your plan is perfect.” He blinked slowly- much slower than most Zims. Most Zims were utterly manic, back and forth and back and forth, loud and brutal and dangerous, but Two- Two had always worshiped him. Maybe even more than the rest. It had been nice, to be admired so heavily. Two had adored the personal attention when he was turned into an errand boy.

Dib might miss him.

He shook that thought out of his head, gripping both sides of Two’s face with his index finger and thumb, nails (not claws, they weren’t claws) digging into the cheeks.

“You belong to me.” Two didn’t respond, and Dib dug in a little further.  Irken skin was thicker than a human’s, with a single drop of pink blood oozing over Dib’s fingernail and leaving a barely-perceptible damp trail. “Respond. Who do you belong to?”

“I belong to you, Number One.”

___________

November: Desperation (warning if you click through for impalement)

Dib’s lips were on Zim’s before he even knew what he was doing. “You’re not dying on me, you little bastard,” he hissed, fumbling to hold up the body as Zim nearly coughed blood directly into Dib’s mouth. It was salty and sweet all in one, but Dib couldn’t linger on the taste. Zim’s fingers grasped at his shirt, and Dib took that as a sign that it was working, pressing their lips together hard enough to bruise the capillaries.  

There was a click. Dib breathed in blood and out carbon dioxide, sputtering and swallowing it down so Zim wouldn’t die like this-

Something red-hot and metallic climbed over his arm before digging into his spine, and he realized that the body had gone entirely limp before there was electricity and then there was nothing.

____________

December: Freak

Twix grit her teeth. “How am I supposed to trust you if you’ll just- just do that?”

“How am I supposed to drop my whole social life because you can’t help being the weirdest person in school?” Tulip shot back. “I do care about you, but it’s so, so hard sometimes, because you just don’t know how to act, and sometimes I’m sick of waiting for you to play catchup just because your parents are the town freaks!” She slapped her hands over her mouth and took a step back.

Twix’s eye twitched under her goggles. “At least they’re freaks that love me. I’ll see you tomorrow, third period.”

“Twix-”

“I said,” Twix said through gritted teeth, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Get out before I reactivate the security.”

Tulip got out, and Twix buried her face in a couch pillow and screamed.

[60b3r]

Memes Kill Creativity?

Memes vs. Genes

In the 1976 book The Selfish Gene, Richard Dawkins coined the term 'meme' to describe something with symbolic meaning that spreads by imitation from person to person within a culture. This idea is an analogue to the nature of selfish gene, described similarly as a piece of genetic material possessing information required to be able to replicate themselves inside a living. The only key difference in both terms is that the gene is natural, while memes are artificial. The rest of memes' operating schemes completely mimic the genes perfectly. In our current timeline, memes as we know today are taking many forms: as image macros, short videos, and rick-rollicking music. Memes in imageboards and forums have been pushing internet porn traffic into a stalemate and putting our power grid into unnecessary burden. Of course, memes are not to be regretted, but otherwise need to be taken seriously, since they are able to put our current understanding of media industry and economic system into shame.

As with every other thing that have existed, memes are not exempt in its dualistic nature. If you ever venture to the depths of dark web, you may know that memes also took part in the infamous mimetic Tumblr-4chan War. Not only that, some memes are reportedly causing harm towards some users, even though it is often disguised or said to be a dank joke or mere sarcasm. Memes have seen its share of use in online bullying, mass shootings, and hate crimes, cowering behind the freedom of expression tag. Regardless, memes are also an extremely effective form of information transmission. Like all living systems with no set moral standards, memes do evolve and are subject to natural selection. Memes, like genes, actually work like a mindless machine. Again, this is eerily like the performance of DNA in living systems. The last thing we want from this thing is virulence.

Every day, something went viral on Twitter. Hashtags are flaring into the top trends, some videos are being watched billions of times, and another cat vs. cucumber pic garnered thousands of likes. Viral properties of a virus (duh) is defined as the capability to multiply quickly in relatively short amount of time. The term saw a huge increase in usage during the dawn of the internet age and the rise of computer malwares spread through unsecured ports of network protocol. This term is being applied to memes, as it is like a virus (which is a pure embodiment of a selfish gene). Now, a lot of people are utilizing memes to create art, because it enables them to cater the short-attention spans of current internet users. They create shorts, illustrations, inside jokes, and small comic strips. Some of you might not agree with me on this one, but stay with me now and I will explain to you why I would like to treat memes and art as a single unit of interest in this argument.

The dawn of meme-technology

Viral memes and their popularity are now often considered important in defining a time period in the internet culture. Now every netizen can somewhat distinguish the approximate age, sex, and political views of other users from the usage of rage comics, meme songs, and meme platforms they use. Intuitively we can make a generalized difference between the userbase of Reddit, 4chan, 9gag, Vine, and now Tiktok. Others, by the share of relatability with sub-genres of different areas of interest (film memes and game memes). Some others, even, in the perspectives of different social and economic class system (first world problems and third world success memes). Meme preferences to us netizens are ironically giving away our anonymous identity. Identity which the media companies are vying to get their hands on. That's where I would like to come into my opening argument: both memes and genes which originally possesses no intrinsic value, suddenly become a subject of value with technology.

How do we draw the logic, I say? The ones and zeros inside electrical systems are value-free, so does DNA in living cells. As we meddle ourselves with biotechnology to manipulate genetic material for profit, we also simmer ourselves in the computer sciences and tweak physical computation to perform better. We give value in the inanimate object by manipulating them. In our world, we often heard these expressions: that communication is key, sometimes silence is golden, and those who control the information wields the power. What’s these three statements have in common? Yes, information and expression. Memes are the simplest form of both. This is the beginning of the logic: memes are no longer in and on itself independent of external values. The infusion of utilitarian properties in memes as artificial constructs are seemingly inevitable, and for the better or worse shapes our current society.

We might have heard that somewhere somehow, the so called ‘global elites’ with their power and wealth are constantly controlling biotech research and information technology—or, in the contrary, they control these knowledge and resources to keep shovelling money and consolidate their power. Memes are one of their tools to ‘steer’ the world according to their 'progressive agenda', seemingly driving the world ‘forward’ towards innovation and openness. Nah, I am just joking. But, stay with me now. It is actually not them (the so-called global elites) who you should be worried about. It is us—you and I, ourselves—and our own way of unwittingly enjoying memes that are both toxic and fuelling the age-old capitalism. Funny, isn't it? We blame society, but we are society. But how are be becoming the culprits yet also be the prey at the same time?

Middle-class artists are hurt

Now, aggressive marketing tactics using memes are soaring. Media companies are no doubt cashing in the internet and viral memes to their own benefit. Streaming and cataloguing are putting up a good fight compared to their retail, classic ways of content delivery. This is quite true with the strategies of Spotify and YouTube, other media companies alike. They can secure rights to provide high-quality content from big time artists and filmmakers and target these works directly to the end consumer, effectively cutting the cost of distribution which usually goes to the several layers of distribution line like vinyl products, radio contracts, and Blu-ray DVDs. I believe this is good, since it is like an affirmative action for amateur artists to start a career in the art industry. Or is it? Does it really encourage small-time artists to begin? Yes. How about the middle-class artists? Not necessarily.

You might sometimes wonder, “how the hell did I get somewhere just by following the trending or hot section in the feed?”. This toxicity of memes often brings some bad things to our tables. Social media algorithms handle contents (like viral memes) by putting those with high views or likes to the front page, effectively ‘promoting’ the already popular post and creating a positive feedback cycle. By doing so, they could capitalize on ad profits on just few ‘quality’ contents over huge amounts of audience in a very short amount of time. The problem is most of the time, these ‘quality’ contents have no quality at all. They just happen to possess the correct formula to be viral, with the correct SEO keywords and click-bait titles with no real leverage in the art movement. This way, I often find both the talented and the lucky—of which the boundaries between them are always blurred—overshadow the aspiring ‘middle-class’ artists who work hard to perfect their craft.

If you are already a famous guitarist with large fanbase, lucky you, you are almost guaranteed to top the billboards. What, you have no skills? Post a video of you playing ‘air guitar’ and… affirmative actions to the rescue. Keep on riding the hype wave and suddenly you get to top trending with minimal effort, thanks to your weird haircut. Those haters will surely make a meme out of your silly haircut, not even your non-existent guitar skills. But still, hype is still a hype, and there’s no such thing as a bad publication. This also answers why simple account who reposts other people’s content could get much more followers than the hard-working creators. Not only being outperformed by the already famous artists taking social media by storm, now the ‘middle-class’ artists are also dealing with widespread content theft and repost accounts because of the unfair, bot grading system. It is unimaginable how many nobodies got the spotlight they don’t deserve just because they look or act stupid and the whole internet cheers around them. Remember, this is not always about the artist, but also the quality of the art itself. I believe a good art should be meaningful to the beholder.

Why capitalism kills creativity

The problem in current art industry is that we are feeling exhausted with the same, generic, and recycled stuff. We indeed already see there’s less discourse about art now. Sure, the problem lies not in the artist or medium, but is in the viewers—the consumer of the art form—and how the capitalist system reacts to it. The hyper efficient capitalist system doesn’t want to waste any more time and money trying to figure out what’s new or what’s next for you. What we love to see, what is familiar to us, the market delivers them. The rise of viral memes phenomenon in the social media pushes the market system to the point where they demand artists to create the same, redundant, easy art form. Listen to some of The Chainsmokers’ work and we'll see what music have become: the identical 4-chord progression, the same drop, the predictable riser, and the absence of meaningful lyrics. We sat down and watch over the same superhero movies trying hard to be the next Marvel blockbuster. The production companies are also happy not to pay writers extra to come up with new ideas and instead settle with borrowed old scripts from decades old TV drama. Disney's The Lion King and its heavy use of the earlier Japanese Kimba The White Lion storyline is one guilty example.

Despite it initially being an economic system and not a political ideology, it is untrue that many Marxist philosophers usher the suppression of art. While it is ironic that Stalinist policy intends to curb ‘counter-revolutionaries’—in this case his enemies—by limiting freedom of press and media; American propaganda added further so that it seems that the ideology is also limiting art and kill creativity. We all know the Red Scare in the U.S. during the Cold War saw a popular narrative of communism and socialism that is devoid of freedom of expression. This state propaganda then further become ‘dehumanization’ and make freedom of expression invalid under the guise of equality. Marx argue that total equality is not possible, and the uniqueness is being celebrated by having them doing what they do best and provide the best for their community. Thus, an individual's interests should be indistinguishable from the society's interest. Freedom is granted when the whole society is likely to benefit from an action. According to Mao in his Little Red Book, freedom of expression in art and literature, after all, is what initially drive the class consciousness. It is capitalism, not communism, that kills creativity.

If left unchecked, the threat of this feedback loop is going to cause a lack of diversity, resulting in stale content, less art critique, and overall decline in our artistic senses. Artists’ creativity that are supposedly protected by the free internet are destroyed within itself through the sheer overuse of viral memes. Capitalism has successfully turned the supposedly open, free-for-all, value-free platform that is the internet against the people into a media in which they are undeniably shaping new values on its own: the art culture that's not geared towards aesthetics and appreciation, but towards more views and personalized clicks. How social media and media industry caters to the demands of the consumer are, in Marx's own words, “digging its own grave”.

Spare nothing, not even the nostalgia

Well, people romanticize the oldies. The good old days, when everything is seen as better and easier. Look at the new art installations that uses the aesthetics of naughty 90s graphic design to become new, the posters released in this decade but with an art deco of the egregious 80s pop artist Andy Warhol, or the special agent-spy movies set frozen in the Nifty Fifties. Nostalgia offers us a way to escape from the hectic choices of our contemporary: different genres of music, dozens of movies to watch, and different fashion to consider. We choose to settle with our old habits, that we know just works. Remember how do we throw our money on sequels and reboots and remakes of old movies we used to watch during our younger days? We don’t even care about new releases at the cinema! Did you remember how Transformers 2 and their subsequent sequels perform at the box office at their opening week?

The huge sales of figurines and toys of Star Wars franchise—if we could scrutinize them enough—came from the old loyal fanbase of the late Lucasfilm series, not primarily from new viewers. Then suddenly, surprise-surprise. Our love for an old franchise deemed dead enough to be remembered and treasure soon must be destroyed to pave way for three new outrageous sequels (the ones with Kylo Ren and Snoke) by the grace of our beloved capitalism. Sadly, nothing is left untouched by the capitalism’s unforgiving corruption. Nostalgia has become a gimmick that makes people like some art more than they should, because it’s familiar. It is another way of squeezing your pocket dry.

Not that it is bad to make derivatives like covers or remixes, but the trade-offs are far too high. Consequentially, the number of original arts is now very little, because artists don’t bother making new stuff if they just aim for a quick buck. Most of the young adult novels are essentially the same lazy story progression with only different time setting and different character names. Most of them even have the same ending! No more a beautiful journey like the thrillers of Dan Brown or the epic adventures of Tolkien’s Lord of The Rings, which defines their respective times. Do we seriously want to consider Twilight and 50 Shades of Grey as a unique work? Isn’t the Hunger Games and the Maze Runner essentially the same?

If you play video games, you must have known that the trend always starts over. Game developers are making gazillions of sequels, and only a few of them that are actually good. Most are outright trash. Oh, wait, old video games like Homeworld are also getting remasters to cater the demand of nostalgic consumers. No new Command and Conquer release from EA Games? Re-release the 25 years old Red Alert because people will re-buy it! Profit!

15 June 2020 8.03 PM

[b00ket]

IM SO HAPPY YOURE THIS CURIOUS

Gives me big motivation to keep drawing him 🥺🥺 and I’ll HAPPILY TALK ABOUT MY OCS ITS MY FAV PASSTIME

Lucas is 6’ 7”! His home and shop is a hand me down from smaller relatives so he tends to be slouching at work. His home has tall cielings and loves being outside so he doesn’t have to bend down. But small spaces make him feel comfy so going into Mazelinka’s cottage doesn’t bother him in the slightest!

Lucas is in his early 20s! Don’t know a ton abt the canon timeline of the game so I can’t pinpoint an age exactly.

That is Amani! She thinks you’re cute too 😳✋🏽 Amani was initially the apprentice design but I loved her too much. Spent a lil too much time in my brain so she became her own character! Amani’s backstory is just as heavy but she was dumped onto the docks in Vesuvia with a cut up face, she was later found by Lucas. Lucas and Amani stayed roommates for a few months until Amani moved out to start her own medicine shop. Amani and Lucas both cause trouble out of work. Have a big Tulio and Miguel vibe when gambling on the streets together. Generally when together all braincells gone OUT THE WINDOW

I WOULD LOVE IF YOU DREW LUCAS! Any character of mine are open to be drawn really

THE EYE COLOR WAS INTENTIONAL! You may pet Jolie she’s very friendly. But Lucas is constantly feeding her small snacks when cooking so she may bite your finger first.

Thanks 😏✋🏽

Lucas is asian! And I love making diverse ocs! Still working on things like body types and disabilities.

And I love reading your tags DW there is more art to come. Spend some time on the others to know them just as well! They certainly are a group of characters.

Morning people?

The two on the left are mine! The other belongs to a friend. :3

If you visit Lucas and spend the night he will force you to change into clean clothes. All he has is his fuck large clothes though. He’ll let you keep it! And who doesn’t want a large shirt!

[recentanimenews]

Crunchyroll Favorites 2017: Video Games

What a wild year it's been for gaming. Nintendo has thrown down the gauntlet with the Switch and its unbelievable roster of exclusives but they're far from the only company mixing things up and putting out some astounding exclusives. Following Part One about our favorite anime and manga, Part Two will cover our favorite video games from the plethora of hit releases in 2017!

PETER FOBIAN (@PeterFobian)

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild: The obvious choice (get used to seeing it on this list). Breath of the Wild probably impressed me more than any other game this year, taking Zelda and the open world platform to new heights in the most clever, brave way imaginable. This game lets you do whatever you want, giving you access to an immense number of tools to drive you to solve problems in ways the designers probably never thought of. Or, at least, you might believe they hadn’t if the world wasn’t brimming with small interactions we’re still discovering to this day. Even the story is a clever take on the usual defeating Ganon formula. I felt Nintendo was slipping during the Wii U days but they easily dominated this years releases.

NieR: Automata: Or, at least, I say that, but now I’m gonna talk about a bunch of PS4 titles. NieR was quite the narrative journey and did some immensely cool things with its story you could only see in a video game, replaying the same events from different perspectives then building upon them into brand new arcs. The game had its aesthetic sense on lock, complete with one of the best soundtracks I’ve ever heard. The glimmer of hope residing at the end of such an oppressively sad world was a tremendous conclusion. I just wish there had been more. There are elements in the game where I feel Yoko Taro teasing DLC content that he knew would never come. That asshole.

Horizon Zero Dawn: Another open-world game that was willing to invest in its setting. The world of HZD is awesome, aesthetically, functionally, and narratively. It also feels complete. Rather than the usual fetch quests you can expect in this sort of title, every mission has its own story and serves to expand your understanding of the various cultures of the world. The main plot is a wonderful dive into the history that brought this world about featuring a partnership of convenience between two characters whose arguments I could listen to for hours. The relationship between Aloy and Sylens is fantastic. The gameplay is fantastic. The world is fantastic.

Nioh: This game got a lot of flak out of the gate for being a Souls-like but it’s risen to that challenge and done some great things all its own with a deeper combat system featuring a variety of stances, combos, tools and unlockable techniques. The aesthetic is also spot on and, while it doesn’t have the same cinematic approach, delivers a cool environment with enemies just as frustratingly hard. If I have one complaint, it’s that the game went for a more numbers-heavy approach featuring RNG drops and complex crafting system that kept me in menus while I’d rather be exploring. All-in-all the game felt great to play and never felt like it was slowing down. You could even collect pokemon!

ECHO: I feel like I’ve been waiting for the release announcement for this game for an eternity since I first played a demo at PAX two years ago. This game touches on all my favorite aesthetic hallmarks, taking place in a nightmarish superstructure that is equal parts Giger and Blame!, alternating between immaculate palaces and criss crossing walkways over a dark abyss. The story is a particularly satisfying space opera and includes a unique gameplay mechanic controlling the enemy AI that feeds right into the horror of the setting. It’s a horrifically beautiful achievement and a MUST. PLAY.

Persona 5: My first experience with the Persona series has been memorable and I definitely now understand the obsessive following these games have earned. P5 has a crazy awesome sense of style and a great cast of characters with individual stories that build up to some seriously anime cathartic moments. Pretty much every characters unmasking was a memorable highlight and synced up nicely with the games through line of defying oppressive authority. I wish they’d gone a bit further, done a few things better, and loosed up a but on what players can do in the game. All the same I’ll be right there with everyone else in 2117 when Persona 6 comes out.

Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice: I love this game not only for what it is but what it represents. Long time fan of Ninja Theory and this game makes me a diehard. Hellblade's aim to release an “independent AAA game” is just what the industry needs right now with franchises and studios falling victim to microtransaction based monetization and getting gutted by major publishers. I hope to see a ton more of these in the year to come. The game itself was well-worth the price tag, a fascinating descent into hell that had a few clever tricks and an interesting representation of auditory hallucination that added to the atmosphere. More of this, more Ninja Theory.

Guilty Gear Xrd 2: Everyone has their fighting game and mine is Guilty Gear. The franchise went through a notable low point releasing Guilty Gear Xrd without Baiken, but thankfully ArkSys recovered and is back with part 2 and the good content. They’ve tightened some of the bolts from the previous releases along with character specific changes. I’m loving the new kits on all my main. ArkSys’s 3D/2D style continues to set the visual standard for 2D fighters. The only thing I’m not crazy about is Millia’s hat. If they add ABA then this will truly be the perfect game.

Wolfenstein II: The New Colossus: Although I’d never played Wolfenstein before this year, I was understandably attracted to the marketing efforts of Bethesda to promote this title. I was wholly unprepared for the over-the-top narrative experience it provided, coming closer to Saints Row levels of ludicrous plot twists and characterization without compromising it’s blood-in-the-dirt aesthetic. The writing walks a razor's edge between horrific and hilarious while fearlessly drawing similarities between the Wolfenstein world and modern day America. It’s wild that Blazkowicz feels so real, even melancholic, with everything that surrounds him.

Uncharted 4: The Lost Legacy DLC: Lost Legacy solved what was incontrovertibly the biggest problem with Uncharted 4. No Chloe. It pulled one better by bringing back the best new character from the main title, Nadine in an unexpected partnership that worked better than I could have imagined. Rather than a fun side mission, Naughty Dog spent a lot of time using past events to build a compelling narrative around both characters and their unlikely partnership with all the same cinematic highlights as the main title. It wasn’t quite the unforgettable experience as Uncharted 4, but it was quality DLC that barely exists in a industry chopping up IPs to sell them in pieces.

RENE KAYSER (@kayserlein)

Persona 5: There are three titles that I carry as the triumvirate of “Games that changed me in who I am”. One of these three is Persona 4 which helped me get through the worst part of my youth. And while never got tired of Atlus’ spin-offs of that title like some people did, I certainly was hyped for the new entry in the series. It didn’t quite hit the mark for me that 3 and 4 did but it gave me an absolutely fantastic 99 hours of thievery and intrigue. I just wish they’d given us more Social Events to hang out with the entire group …

NieR: Automata: It’s quite something to not only get one but two sequels to life-changing games in a single year (Number Three in my triumvirate is Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII which introduced me to Japanese games in general). The original Nier broadened the horizon of what you can do with videogame storytelling for young 16-year-old me and while Automata didn’t hit me that hard, it still managed to let me reflect a lot on my actions as a gamer (I still feel bad for getting *that* trophy). I just hope that Square remasters the first game one day so I can reunite with its characters once more.

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild: No franchise in the world means as much to me as Zelda. I went through every single entry (not counting the CDI ones - I’m no maniac!) and know almost every dungeon by heart. BOTW has recaptured that old magic of (re-)conquering an entire kingdom and sucked a whopping 120 hours out of me before I knew it. It may have certain weaknesses (mainly in the story department) but that doesn’t take away from the utter magnificence Nintendo has gifted us with. I only wish they’d tell us something definite about its timeline placement (My money’s on the Convergence theory).

Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony: Kazutaka Kodaka is a goddamn genius. He, Kotaro Uchikoshi and Ryukishi07 are probably some of my favorite writers ever and in the newest entry of his murdery series, he once again presents us with this unique mix of comedy and horror only he can concoct. Its second and third case slow the game down a bit but the final two will turn anyone’s brain upside down and put it through the blender in a way you’ll never forgot. To write anything more, would delve into spoilers but if you haven’t gotten into this franchise until now, you’re definitely missing out!

Wolfenstein II: The New Colossus: I have a long-standing love for fictional (!) nazis. Part of it is certainly due to the gruesome part of German history which lets you easily villainize them without any need for characterization but also a remaining excitement of of the forbidden (all nazi content is stripped out in the German version of the franchise, so I have to resort to imports). Shooting nazis itself would be fun enough but Machine Games’ reboot trilogy somehow still gives it one of the best and most moving video game narratives in years which leaves me yearning for its final chapter. The cherry on top of the already delicious cake is the German dialogue which was voiced by fantastic German actors (who were sadly replaced by less fitting ones in the local version) which enhances the atmosphere tremendously by not copping out with using American actors with a funny accent and no actual dialogue like every other game with nazis. Even if you’re not into shooters, you should give the Wolfenstein reboot a try - it might really surprise you with its story.

Super Mario Odyssey: Here I go thinking that Nintendo just put out something that they can hardly match again for at least half a decade … and they do it within the same year! BOTW was already great but Mario Odyssey cemented 2017 as the year Nintendo returned to form. Not since Mario 64 did it bring me this much fun to play as our favorite plumber (though he did quit that job) and I find it highly possible that his newest game might even go down in history as being superior to his first 3D outing.

The Nintendo Switch and basically everything on it: This list of mine already carries two Switch games on it - but I could easily put down everything else on the system. While its portability might seem like a gimmick to outsiders, it opens up every system you play on it incredibly. Even if you’re mostly at home and work from there (like me), the comfort to pick it up and play another 30 minutes in bed before you’re sleeping adds so much to the experience that I can hardly put it into words. Skyrim, Doom, Xenoblade, Stardew Valley, Splatoon 2, Resident Evil - the list goes on and on and each week I’m overwhelmed by new announcements of both indie games I’ve been meaning to check out for a long time but also ports of bigger titles on this hardware. Not since my PS One have I been so in love with a system itself and with how things are going, the Switch might easily become my favorite gaming console ever created.

KARA DENNISON (@rubycosmos)

Resident Evil VII: This game messed me up something fierce -- in all the best ways, of course. I can understand why opinion is divided in some cases, but it’s so atmospheric and so entrenched in its own lore that it’s just fascinating to get lost in. And I love a game that blurs the line between gameplay and cutscenes to the point that you’re not even sure what’s under your control anymore. That’s some good horror.

Doki Doki Literature Club: The first release from indie studio Team Salvato, an OEL dating sim with a poetry-driven storyline. And -- funny story -- it just magically appeared in my Steam gifts. I still don’t know who sent it to me. But whoever it was, I owe them big thanks because it was just the kind of VN I love. The art is absolutely gorgeous, and it’s got a great story you’ll want to explore multiple times. High points of the game: hanging out with Sayori, a long weekend with Yuri, and finally getting some time alone with club president Monika!

Fate/Grand Order (US release): Of course this was going to make my list: I can build an army of nothing but different female King Arthurs. The story is entertaining for history and folklore buffs, and it’s also a great (read: inescapable) entry point to the Fate franchise.

NICK CREAMER (@b0bduh)

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild: From the first moments I started playing Breath of the Wild, I realized this game signaled the end of one era and the beginning of another. Through its gorgeous world, incredibly rewarding base gameplay, and infinite secrets to discover, Breath of the Wild redefines what we can expect from open world games, solving the issue of vast yet unsatisfying worlds in one definitive strike. I can only hope that future games steal as much as they can from Breath of the Wild’s bountiful innovations.

Nioh: Nioh’s appeal is pretty simple: place the satisfying, skill-intensive combat of a Dark Souls-style game in the circular loot-grind context of a Diablo-like, speed everything up by about thirty percent, and let it fly. The end result is likely the most successful riff yet on the Souls/Bloodborne subgenre, a game that can happily stand beside its spiritual inspiration.

Nier: Automata: Automata is undoubtedly the messiest game on this list, containing a vast number of minor gameplay failings and larger issues of overarching pacing and structure. And yet, no other game I played this year can match Automata’s narrative ambitions, or its soaring dramatic heights. Automata brings you to your lowest possible point in order to drive home that even at the end of everything, hope survives. Technical issues aside, a message told this creatively and well deserves all the accolades it can get.

Persona 5: Persona 5 was also messy in a variety of ways, like its occasionally unsatisfying dungeons, and especially its frustratingly conditional perspective on society’s “outsiders.” But from its endlessly endearing cast to its utterly best-in-class art design, Persona 5 also offers a vast array of astonishing strengths. I’ll still be thinking fondly of my time with the Phantom Thieves for a long time to come.

Resident Evil VII: Sometimes saving a franchise means going back to the drawing board. So it was with Resident Evil VII, which ditched all the bloated excess of the franchise’s recent entries in order to zero in on the fundamentals of horror: intimacy, isolation, implication, and, uh, insects. Lots of gross insects. Vast segments of Resident Evil VII play out as a horror experience so tightly composed that it really feels like you’re trapped in a beloved horror movie. It’s like twelve straight hours of opening a door that you really, really, really don’t want to open.

  THOMAS ZOTH (@ABCBTom)

NieR: Automata: Nier: Automata isn’t my favorite Yoko Taro game, but it’s the one that has established him as a creative voice and given him the tools and funding to keep delivering punishing Drakengard games for me, so I am beyond thrilled by its reception. Taro is truly a gaming auteur who enjoys playing with the expectations about what videogames must do and must be, frustrating and infuriating players with his obtuse cruelty and making them love him for it. Once you’ve finished Automata, play Drakengard 3 and the original Nier as well.

Xenoblade Chronicles 2: Xenoblade sneaks in just under the line, and I haven’t made it very far, but both Xenoblade and Xenoblade X were my favorite games of their respective years, so it’s safe to say I will love this one all the way through. Not as big a fan of this game’s more kawaii artstyle, but the story is still willing to go unexpected places and allow you to explore gigantic, overwhelming worlds. Plus, the game’s awful map system is getting a patch so I have no real complaints. Xenoblade is my favorite modern RPG series and one that’s not to be missed.

Super Mario Odyssey: A game that feels like the direct sequel to Mario 64, allowing for the feeling of exploration Sunshine and Galaxy lost. I love the possession mechanic, I love the bizarre uncanny valley situations where Mario interacts with humans, and I love New Donk City’s Festival. I’ve cooled on Mario platformers a lot in recent years but this reminded me why I spent so much time collecting 120 stars in Mario 64.

Persona 5: I know all of the problems with Persona 5, gameplay-wise, narrative-wise, and character-wise, and I agree with all of it. The game is massively flawed, and could have been so much better. AND YET… AND YET the fundamentals of Persona 5 are so strong that even with this burden it’s still one of my favorite games of the year. The gang of misfits that made up the Phantom Thieves are my family and the music is divine. I hope the game spawns all of the 100 spinoff cash-ins that Persona 4 did, because I will probably get them all.

The Legeond of Zelda: Breath of the Wild: I hate open world games, because they always present a procedurally generated landscape of vacant mountains and palette swapped ninjas. You are free to go anywhere, but there is nothing to do. Until Breath of the Wild, that is, which has a marvelous curated world made with the help of the wizards at Monolith Soft. The game has three problems. When it rains, you can’t climb. Running depletes stamina, making it hard to fast travel. There are horses, but riding a horse is pointless, because you have to leave it behind to go exploring. That’s it: Everything else is perfect. Play it.

JOSEPH LUSTER (@Moldilox)

Super Mario Odyssey: Odyssey is the ultimate fulfillment of the promise Super Mario 64 made over 20 years ago. As much as I loved the Galaxy games, Nintendo went even further on Switch, providing the ideal playground for Mario and his absurdly athletic abilities. Taking control of enemies is always a pleasure, and I still haven’t uncovered half of what’s hidden within Odyssey’s jam-packed worlds.

NieR: Automata: Yoko Taro is a genius, and NieR: Automata deserves all the success and acclaim it has received since launch. There may be moments where some things don’t click just right—including the fairly repetitive combat and some dull locales—but the whole is so delightful that it’s tough to really care about those faults. The immense soundtrack is icing on this introspective, humanity-questioning cake.

Resident Evil VII: The latest entry in Capcom’s storied franchise is a return to form in many ways. Despite the perspective switch and an ever-so-slightly more grounded setup, things get buckwild pretty fast. Throw in classically stupid objectives like finding three dog heads to open an old rural house’s door and you have exactly what I want from survival horror.

Nioh: Team Ninja is back! Nioh gave me the first good taste of their sweet, sweet take on action games since Ninja Gaiden II, all with a heaping helping of FromSoftware inspiration on top. Nioh is much more complex than it appears on its surface, so even the most dedicated of players should have their hands full unraveling the various systems and making them work in each increasingly challenging scenario.

Horizon Zero Dawn: Guerrilla Games’ PS4 hit is hands-down the most gorgeous game I played all year. While the main story is worth pursuing, the thrill of the hunt is at the core of Horizon Zero Dawn. It’s always exciting, and occasionally frustrating, to run into a mechanical beast you have no hope of toppling… only to emerge triumphant! Those moments never get old, and the variety of locations makes this one the poster child for Photo Mode.

ISAAC AKERS (@iblessall)

Atelier Firis: The Alchemist and the Mysterious Journey: My pick for game of the year isn’t one of the big JRPG titles, but the second in a trio of understated games from Gust commemorating the Atelier series’ 20th anniversary. I was inspired to pick up the game thanks to a beautiful article written by a friend of mind, and I was delighted to find one of the most expansive, relaxing, engaging, and rewarding game worlds I’ve ever experienced. Firis isn’t the flashiest game of the year, but the way it allows you to just sink into its comfortable rhythms astounded me.

NieR: Automata: I’ve got my reservations about Automata as a story, but one thing I can give it uninhibited praise for is its ability to create vivid experiential pockets within its world. Automata is not just rich in its colorful conceptualization of its world, but also in ideas, and the blend of themes, incredible music, beautiful locals, and its tendency to bat for the emotional stands resulted in some moments that stand out as truly stunning amongst my gaming experiences of the year. The ability to create those moments, whether they last a few seconds or a few minutes, ought not to be overlooked amongst Automata’s other strengths and flaws.

Uta Macross: To balance out my unusual engagement with actual console games, I must of course return to the place I spend most of my gaming time: mobage (which I found out this year is pronounced “mo-ba-ge” and not “mob-age”). A Macross rhythm game has been a wish near to my heart for years, and with the 35th anniversary providing a clear justification for it, it finally happened. At last, I can tap my phone screen to the rhythm of “Ikenai Borderline,” “POWER TO THE DREAM,” and “Universal Bunny.” It actually wound up being a little less exciting than expected since I already listen to Macross music constantly, but a long-standing wish fulfilled is nothing to sneeze at.

Tokyo 7th Sisters: On the other side of the spectrum is a mobile game I’ve been playing for longer than I can remember – Tokyo 7th Sisters. Although I played quite a bit during the year (it was my game of choice in my hotel room during long work trips), the most rewarding part of being a fan of the game came with a wholesale update of the whole thing, from the actual rhythm game to the way gacha points are handled. All those changes have gotten me back into the game in a big way, and excited for what mobage BS the game will give me in 2018.

CALLUM MAY (@CanipaShow)

Persona 5: In 2014, I bought a custom t-shirt based on the original teaser trailer of Persona 5. It had 4 chairs on it with balls and chain attached to the legs and one white chair in the middle.  It was a bit of cool symbolism for the game’s eventual themes and I was so impatient that I didn’t want to wait for the official merchandise, I wanted to make my own. When the game was released in 2017, that t-shirt had faded beyond recognition and is now just a red t-shirt with a white chair on it. Everything I love about Persona 5 has probably already been written above, but despite how many times the game was delayed and despite how much that shirt faded, it still became my favourite game ever.

Danganronpa V3: Never have I wanted a game creator to kick me in the shins more than Kazutaka Kodaka. He wouldn’t do it upon prompt, instead he’d kick me down at the most ironic and heartbreaking of times. He never does anything in halves. It’s always better, crazier and more dramatic than ever. I often promise to myself that I will pace things out, that I will try to balance work and playing through the trials of Danganronpa. But in the end, I always end up engrossed in an ever expanding spiral of mystery that delights, confuses and surprises me, sometimes even up to the early hours of the morning.

Xenoblade Chronicles 2: I’ve steadily been warming to the Xenoblade Chronicles combat and world design over the past two entries, but Xenoblade Chronicles 2 is the first time I’ve felt like I really need to see this through to the end. With a large, but manageable diverse world set atop titans wading through a sea of clouds, Xenoblade Chronicles 2 exists and strives with its own set of distinctive rules. The sea is made of clouds, the cloud level rises and dips because the Titans are always moving and if you’re a main character, your outfit is ridiculous. All very important rules that Xenoblade Chronicles 2 sticks to. Existing as a more streamlined version of previous iterations, Xenoblade Chronicles 2 is a brilliant adventure that succeeds more than it fails at keeping you on track.

  NATASHA H (@illegenes)

NieR: Automata: What to say about a game where already so much has been said? Nier: Gestalt was one of my favorite games of all time, so I had big expectations for the sequel, and it easily surpassed them. Haunting, nihilistic, melancholic, and searingly human, Nier: Automata encompasses so much of what I love in a good post-apocalyptic story about androids and robots. And yet it’s so much more than that, constantly evolving on nearly every structural level possible and delivering an emotionally exhausting but satisfying game about empathy, violence, and what it means to be human. Aided by a stunning soundtrack, beautiful visuals, and fantastic voice acting, this game will hold a special place in my heart for years to come.

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild: I’ve always liked Zelda games, but BOTW surpassed all of my expectations for what the game could be like. Rarely has a game felt like it was tailored for me while also respecting me. The amount of things there are to explore, to experiment with, and to interact with are beyond me, and yet, 70 hours in, I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface. The game invites curiosity in ways I’ve never seen, and I’ve got plans that may take up months, if not even years, of gameplay. There is something so delicately beautiful in Breath of the Wild - a world worth exploring and saving, and I can assuredly say that it’s my favorite game of the year (if not many years) alongside NieR: Automata.

Final Fantasy XV: I wasn’t sure what to expect of a game that’s been in developmental hell for almost a decade - at one point I was fairly convinced it was never going to happen. But happen it did, and while Final Fantasy XV is filled with flaws, technical and story-wise, it also has some of the most emotionally intense highs I’ve seen in a Final Fantasy game. Square Enix easily sold me on these four boys and their friendship, and I shed many tears along the way of their tumultuous and strange journey. They’re good boys, Brent.

Cuphead: I have only two things to say about Cuphead. One: The animation is sublime. Two: It is absolutely infuriating(ly addictive).

  SAM WOLFE (@_Samtaro)

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild: I know that just about everyone else contributing to this article is going to write about this game, and rightly so; The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild was spellbinding. After being delayed from 2015, to 2016, to “when it’s ready”, Breath of the Wild had a lot to live up to and yet still surpassed almost everyone’s expectations. Nintendo took a very big risk in deviating from their standard Zelda formula to give players a game that trusts them to be competent. In the first few weeks of release, I kept hearing the same thing from my colleagues playing the game “this one is really hard”, “the combat is like a puzzle,” “it’s so difficult!” Breath of the Wild doesn’t pull any punches, it expects players to meet it at its level. It allows you to get lost, it allows you to make mistakes, it allows you to wander around Hyrule for hours doing whatever you want, yet still somehow results in you having made progress.

Breath of the Wild’s bleak setting is also fresh to the Zelda series. You, Link, the hero of whatever timeline this game takes place in, have woken up one hundred years too late; the party’s over, and the bad guys won. While the NPCs you encounter still have the same Zelda charm you’d come to expect, they’re all a little fatigued. Almost no one believes you are the hero  you say you are, and nobody expects things to get any better. It’s a cynical world that only you have the power to fill with hope again.

More than anything else though, Breath of the Wild rewards players for how much time they spend in the world. I think the simplicity of the final scene is brilliant, calling out players who may have sprinted towards the ending. I won’t spoil it, but I will say that when you get to the final cutscene, it’s short, it’s simple, and if you’ve spent enough time in Hyrule to remember why you started this crazy quest in the first place, it’s satisfying.

Hearthstone: Kobolds and Catacombs: Hearthstone dropped three big expansions this year, but none were as impactful and fun as Kobolds and Catacombs. A love letter to Dungeons & Dragons, Kobolds and Catacombs introduced the Dungeon Run, a solo experience where players get to build a deck out of the coolest cards the game has to offer as they progress through the kobold empire. In addition to a slew of new cards, this new way to play was made available for free, meaning you can download the game and start playing with some of the most exciting cards the Hearthstone team has ever created, all without spending a dime. Thank you, little kobold, I will take that candle.

Sonic Mania: Sonic the Hedgehog 3 is one of my favorite video games. Period. The bullies who say there are no good Sonic games have simply forgotten the glory days, and who can blame them? Sonic hasn’t been doing what he does best in several years. Sonic Team themselves even forgot, throwing a bone to fans of the original games, effectively saying “if you think our Sonic games are no good, why don’t you do it?”

So they did. And it blew everyone away.

Sonic Mania is a love letter to Sonic’s Genesis era. Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles returned in spectacular fashion, reminding everyone of a simple truth: it’s fun to go fast. With exceptional level design and music you’ll bop your head to, Sonic Mania succeeds where almost every Sonic game in recent memory fails: it’s fast, it’s fun, and it keeps you coming back for more. I’m not sure if a Sonic Mania 2 is in our future, but if it takes us another 13 years to get there, I’ll still lace up my running shoes when the time comes.

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That's it for Part Two of our three-part series! Be sure to check out Part One and stay tuned for PART THREE: EVERYTHING ELSE! If you're still in the mood for past CR Favorites, check out the previous years' features here:

  Crunchyroll Favorites 2016 Part One Part Two Part Three

Crunchyroll Favorites 2015 Part One Part Two Part Three

Crunchyroll Favorites 2014 Part One Part Two Part Three

Crunchyroll Favorites 2013 Part One Part Two Part Three

Crunchyroll Favorites 2012 Part One Part Two Part Three

Crunchyroll News' Best of 2011 Part One Part Two

  What were your favorite video games of 2017? Comment below and share with us! Remember, this is a FAVORITES list, not a BEST OF list, so there's no wrong answers!

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Peter Fobian is an Associate Features Editor for Crunchyroll, author of Monthly Mangaka Spotlight, writer for Anime Academy, and contributor at Anime Feminist. You can follow him on Twitter @PeterFobian.

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com