#it’s a recent development tbf

[autumnrory]

i've been going into the liam tag from time to time the last year where both his fans and people who hated him were Weird about him well before there were any allegations so i would get curious, i don't even remember what started it (maybe it was merely looking for photos that update accounts wouldn't post), but i normally try to avoid going into anything but edit tags for people i enjoy bc there are so many nonsense takes

and of course happening to go through today before the news broke bc i wanted to see what was being said about the abuse as i've only gotten bits on twitter and of course there were many posts rightfully calling it out and all but there's that weird mentality which i was getting a lot more of from twitter but some on here where they're like??? celebrating it and girlboss-ing and i'm just like. okay it's great that you're believing a victim but you're making light of it by talking about it like it's just another stan thing, i have seen that time and time again when this kind of stuff comes out and if people already thought that person was annoying or whatever they're just like "oh yes! i knew it! their career is ruined haha!" and it's like. you clearly don't actually care about the horrible things this person has done and just want to brag that you somehow ~knew~ a stranger's vibes were off and it's so beyond gross like you could use that energy to support a person's victims and instead you'll just try to prove you stan the right people and never the wrong ones or whatever

[bright-and-burning]

also currently in pain from literally head to toe. got the lower leg aches from running yesterday and walking a BUNCH today, the upper leg and lower abdomen and lower back cramps, the upper back pain from running in 20mph winds and hunkering the fuck down, and a headache from looking at my phone for too long bc i can’t sleep bc im IN PAIN.

[grimescum-2]

i feel bad sometimes bcoz 90% of my thoughts are complaints and even if j try to word them in a funny silly way its still complaining. and i dont want the people following me to be concerned or like. get a face full of me crying all the time

but then idk.. what else do i talk about... im not lying when i say that nothing goes on in my life at all ever. i have a bunch of ocs but im working on all of them + a lot of my followers arent really here for that . like what do i say

about to start speaking simlish on a mf im tired

[thepoisonroom]

honestly there will probably never be a more concise summation of my personality than the time i told britt i'm racist against white people who do reiki

[bucksboobs]

can I ask what oliver said that everyone's so mad about? I scrolled through two different articles but most of it seemed like standard vaguing about the plot (although tbf I didn't read that closely) so I was just wondering what specific article did he say something offensive and what did he say

I think it was his TVLine interview where he said in effect, that he has been texting Tim for months “#letbuckfuck” and suggesting a montage of him sleeping with guys and girls and some people found it a little biphobic that he would suggest that be the direction his newly single bisexual character take, some people found it flippant that that’s his main concern in an article that’s supposed to be about how the breakup affects him, and still others found it disrespectful to Buck as a character to suggest backsliding into promiscuity when Buck’s character grew past his hoe phase in the first season.

Oliver responded to the criticism by basically saying he’d want this hoe phase for Buck even if he had just been dumped by a woman, that he knows Buck has used sex as a coping mechanism in the past and would be sensitive to making sure it’s portrayed as healthier this time, and that he apologizes if anyone took offense to his words. Then he deleted the response within the hour. Which is its own interesting development, considering the way 911’s PR has been weirdly quiet recently.

And that’s what you missed on Glee!

[sepublic]

The Owl House's Ending Anniversary...

So it's officially been one whole year since The Owl House ended.

One year ago, I wondered how I would move on. How I would keep going. But I also knew I would, no matter what, because time keeps going on. Things will eventually pass, they always do, that's how so many moments and days for me have gone. Even entire periods of my life.

So I'm not surprised how things have gone on since then; I still had plenty more things to say about TOH, and I still love it just as I have. I've gotten new hyperfixations, and even returned to old ones as some of you can see with recent posts, so it's only a matter of time before TOH circles back again.

And man does it feel so slow, only to feel so brief, it really feels like this anniversary has snuck up on and surprised me! And once again, we have some other, appropriate event lined up; A solar eclipse on this anniversary! Luckily there's no sigils nor coven heads gathered to make me worry. But dang, it was raining in Connecticut when Luz returned there, and it was the rebirth of Jesus when Luz was resurrected.

Makes me wonder if anyone of the Boiling Isles, justifiably, has had PTSD from solar eclipses, and dreaded any that showed up, despite knowing it couldn't happen again. People must've held their breaths the entire time during the first eclipse, panicked at even the slightest fatigue, and then it passed and they realized it really was impermanent and over. And that there was another step towards moving on, which I guess I can relate to now, though this is something I'm much less happy to see gone.

I think a lot about how TOH has influenced both me and my writing, how I approach characters and stories now. I've found myself gravitating more and more towards personal, character-driven stories and situations now. I still have a bit of a taste for grander-scale stuff, but TOH was special for me in that it feels like the first time I really got and understood a show and its characters from the ground-up as I experienced it all in real time. The first time I truly grasped themes and character arcs and could make reasoned predictions based on those, some of which came true! It really feels like THE big start of my media literacy in a way?

It's been fun looking back at TOH as a 'whole' work more or less to reevaluate, and learning other things behind-the-scenes about the show. We've had a few more livestreams and stuff confirmed. Dana's done more drawings, including on her Patreon.

I haven't been writing as much TOH stuff lately, and tbf I've already said soooo much. I might have other, new things to say later down the line, and I do have a few thoughts I've written in notes that maybe could be fully-fledged posts in their own right. I've found comparisons to protagonists of other media, like Miles Morales, or Arin from Ninjago.

The Owl House still is and will probably always be something truly special to me; It feels like my first real fandom experience. My first time understanding and learning a show, appreciating it as it develops and even as I speculate. It broadened my tastes and horizons, my ability to participate with others in stuff.

I miss it; I miss new episodes, new developments. I'm still agonized over things that could've been, things I would've loved to see more of. I'm apprehensive over whether we'll get that Raeda prequel because I don't wanna get my hopes up. Plus Dana needs a well-deserved break and is trying and experimenting with new, different things. And I get that.

It's bittersweet, it's scary, it's freeing, it's sad, it's happy. I've gone so far, this show and fandom has gone so far. And it'll keep going, it has to, time keeps marching on. Luz had to lose her father Manny, process that, but still keep going and must be surprised looking back how much she's adjusted since then, how much she's still grown and gained and learned, while still holding him dear; The same applies for the Titan and the magic she once wielded. With grief and acceptance being a core theme in this show, I'm not surprised that it prepped up the viewers to do the same, and now we have.

And you know what? I'm gonna keep going on, like Luz Noceda, possibly my favorite protagonist of all time, one of the greats and a huge inspiration now for how I really want to write and focus on my own protagonists, too. I'm gonna keep doing this like it never ended. The rate and frequency might fluctuate, but every now and then I'll have things to say, and stuff to drop by and check, such as with the tag and the occasional trending post, others' reblogs, and so forth.

So again, thanks to Dana and the crew. Thanks to Luz Noceda, Eda Clawthorne, King Clawthorne, and the other many, many characters! Luz's story is one where it feels like the show really is about her at its core and wraps around to her, and I want to do a story one day that accomplishes the same feeling. And as I see how Dana has been inspired by past influences, I can't help but look forward to future generations and stories that will themselves have been inspired by The Owl House, I know I've been already, retroactively applying it to things that were already fairly compatible to begin with, and really needed the fresh breath of new inspiration.

I'm repeating a lot of the same things I've said last year. Will I say the same stuff another whole year from now? I'll see. But until next time... BBBBYYYYYYEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!

[writefightandflightclub]

The light is blinding (Joel Miller x fem!reader)

Summary: When he's hurt, you offer to wash Joel's hair for him. Turns out there may be other forms of comfort you can offer him too.

Genres: character study; angst (sorta); hurt/comfort; SMUT. Joel's POV.

Author's note: I watched TLOU ep 1 last night, then made bad choices today in favour of hyperfocussing on this 8k Joel fic. I mean, this was sort of inevitable tbf. We've been handed a sad, scruffy, brown-eyed, dusty apocalypse DILF, and there was no chance of me not adopting him as a blorbo. Anyway, this is my first attempt at Joel, I wrote this in a trance so god knows what it says and I haven't spent any time on editing/correcting. Can't promise it's any good, but if you want to wash his hair as much as I do (lol) maybe you'll enjoy it, who knows. P.s. I promise it does get super smutty. You just have to survive the extensive internal monologue and many rounds of haircare first. (I'm just like that :P)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Minors interacting will be blocked. EXPLICIT SMUT (unprotected p in v sex, totally ignoring practicalities like birth control in the apocalypse bc we can); canon-typical themes such as grief, apocalypse, infection/disease, trauma, injury. SPOILERS - if you know the core plot points or have seen episode one you'll be okay. Joel's POV.

Word count: 8.2k

GIF by @joelmjller (Pls lemme know if you'd like me to remove this!)

How did he get here, exactly? All stretched out on his back, your careful fingers twining through his wetted, grizzled hair?

Well, he supposes he got here because a smuggling deal had gone sideways - like usual.

He got here, because he’s getting too old for this shit, and because someone precisely young enough for this shit had garnered the advantage just long enough to land a gun barrel blow to his head. A blow which then made room for all manner of nonsense, of course; like Joel being teep kicked into a desk. The desk - owing to its sturdy construction and deliciously planed hardwood - had withstood the blow. Joel’s body, however -far less sturdily constructed - had reacted far less favourably to that particular transaction.

Most of all though, cracked ribs and busted shoulder aside, Joel is here, because of you. He is here, because you offered to wash his hair.

Joel isn’t a clean man, by any stretch. Who could be anymore, with the way things are? In truth, he’s forgotten what it’s like not to be coated with a layer of dirt and smoke and ash. But apparently, even in the midst of an apocalypse, the dried-in, caked-up, days old blood matting his hair had left something to be desired.

He’d agreed to your offer only because - honestly - it was starting to itch. Because this time he truly couldn’t do it himself, the searing pain in his ribs seeing to that. Making sure he couldn’t quite raise his arm high enough or dip his head low enough to get the job done.

He’d agreed to your offer, in part, because he thought you would be quick. And - he now realises - you are being anything but.

You have him stretched out on his back, on a repurposed dentist chair. The worn, dark green leather creaks beneath him as he adjusts, positioning himself just so. You’ve installed a makeshift neck rest and basin to the rear of the chair, and Joel’s head is currently dipped backwards into the warm water, your fingers diligently combing through the strands to release the debris and muck.

You use a cup to cascade the water from the basin over his head, cupping it with the other hand to guard his face and neck from any rogue rivulets. Then, you ease your fingertips over his scalp, massaging in circles, being extra careful -he notes- around his recently closed wound.

Yes, to Joel’s dismay, you are taking your time. You are being so thorough and so attentive, in fact, that Joel even wonders if you will end up washing the gray right out of his hair - Joel’d never been wholly convinced that his newly-developed colouring was ever anything more than a thick, impenetrable layer of dirt and ash.

You hum thoughtfully, a sweet, innocuous note as you assess your next step. “I’m switching out the water, okay?”

That doesn’t sound okay at all. That doesn’t sound done. And Joel had thought that this would be quick. Had needed this to be quick.

Before he can grunt an answer though, you are winding a towel around his hair, presumably attempting to save the drips from reaching the floor as you swap out one basin for another, setting down the one now filled with muddy brown water, and bending carefully to lift a second steaming basin of fresh water on to your makeshift plinth.

He needs to stop this here. “That’ll do,” he says gruffly, motioning to sit up -carefully- despite the pain in his ribs.

“Lie back,” you insist, the sound of your voice muffled through the towel wound over his ears but soothing nevertheless. “I’ve only managed to rinse out the blood and bird’s nests so far. We still need to wash and condition.”

Joel would protest more vigorously -means to, in fact- but the soft smile on your face dissolves him like sugar before he can do so.

He frowns though, for good measure. “Fine. Just make it quick.”

“The quicker you relax Joel,” you sing song, “the faster I’ll let you out of my seat. Deal?”

He grunts. He doesn’t relax. He can’t relax.

“And,” you add playfully, as if reading his mind. “If you can’t relax, you’d better learn fast to fake it.”

Joel sighs deeply in frustration as he lies back, and you usher him gently into position. However, the slow, deep breath he expels does genuinely serve to sink him more deeply into the chair. Does force him to release just a jot of the tension snaking through his taut muscles.

You hum again, softly, in satisfaction, and he thinks he can even hear a smile on your mouth as you foam his hair with some sweet-smelling product, your fingers resuming their careful ministrations across his scalp.

It’s nice, he notes, unwilling as he is to admit it. Your touch could knock him out better than a barrel full of oxy and a bottle of the good stuff. He almost lets himself enjoy it - an attractive woman like you working your hands into his hair, massaging with your thumbs, your fingers, your palms. Applying pressure and sensation, even into the tight muscles in his neck. Loosening some of the tension at his temples. He even consciously relaxes his forehead, feeling his frown soften. Closing his eyes instead of fixing his stare on the broken picture rail he’s sure he could fix with a few tools and a little bit of effort.

He breathes more deeply as he closes his eyes, focussing in on the sensation of your touch. On the scents flooding his nose. Floral and sweet and fruity. It smells of you, and he breathes it deeply. He tries not to think about how his pillow will smell of you later.

It shouldn’t be possible for you to smell as good as you do, Joel ponders. You even have him wondering whether perhaps he’s not the only game in town. Whether there’s another smuggler dealing in contraband which hasn’t even occurred to him to barter with. Perfumes and oils and essences. He doubts that you would be mixed up in smuggling, but he doesn’t doubt that you are capable of far more than surface-level assessments might suggest.

After all, people only survive this long with one of two things: brutality, or blind luck - and no-one is that lucky that they’ve never had to dabble in the former. Everyone who has made it this far is only out for themselves.

Therefore, who knows what secrets you hide behind your sweet facade, Joel contemplates. Though, if he did have to believe there was anyone selfless left on god’s blighted earth? If he had to believe in someone, Joel would bet cards on it being you.

He sucks in another long, slow breath, and the scent of you envelops him all over again. For a moment, he finds himself wanting to believe in you. But it’s never too long before he recalls he gave up a long time ago on believing in anything. Anything except his wits and his fists and his gun, at least.

“That’s it Joel,” you praise as he relaxes - uncoils - just a shade, and the smooth tone of your voice slides right under his skin. The thought that you want to make him feel good makes him tingle. Makes him forget - almost - that he doesn’t deserve that.

Meanwhile, your deft fingers and thumbs continue to work nimbly into him, sliding over the contours and bones and ridges of his skull. Applying a warm, steady pressure against the muscles at the nape of his neck. Circling your thumb against a spot that sends a buzzing, suffusing warmth skittering down the length of his spine. Blooming through him - and, it has been so long. So long since Joel felt anything resembling pleasure that when he feels this warm honey trail down his back, an involuntary moan overspills his parted lips.

Shit. There's no chance that you didn't hear that.

The moan reverberates in the tight, quiet room. Lingers far longer than it sounds out for. Lingers, despite how quickly Joel cuts it short - clamping his mouth shut and hoping he can pass it off as a grunt or some expulsion of pain from shifting in his chair.

Your fingers halt, still tangled in his hair. “D-Do you want me to stop?” There is a heat in your tone, Joel thinks, the vowels and consonants warm and full like the pop and crackle of a hearth.

It's new. And it occurs to him, ever so suddenly, that maybe you are enjoying this too? Touching him?

After all, he’s not insisting upon it. Didn’t suggest it. Has not attempted to prolong it. And yet, you continue, working diligently. Soothing him. Freely offering your praise and those little, contented hums - those small, burgeoning sounds which make his fingertips ache to have your skin beneath them, so that he can keep on making your lips overspill with those sweet sounds of satisfaction.

Indeed, Joel’s hair has got to be cleaner now than it’s ever been. He’s been in your chair longer than he ever intended - and you don’t seem to be working any other angle. Don’t seem to be after any contraband that he can get his hands on. Haven’t submitted any requests. Fished for any information.

Perhaps then, you are enjoying him. Enjoying performing this act of service for him - though god knows why. Perhaps you are even looking down at his body right now while he’s all laid out for you in this worn-out chair. His long limbs stretched out, clothes tugging taut over his tight, muscular frame. Perhaps you like looking at him like this, his hair slicked back and away from his sharp face and his hawkish nose, watching the twist and pull of the muscles as he sets his jaw - needing to consolidate all of his resolve simply to resist your sweet, sugary touches. Perhaps you liked when you watched his eyes flutter closed under your touch. When you watched his lips part with that sound. That throaty, undone moan, all for you.

Joel’s not stupid.

He’s clocked the way you look at him sometimes. With this gentle, inviting hunger. The way you always make the effort to come over and speak with him whenever opportunity presents itself. The way your appealing body bends to him like a flower to its sun, as though he has anything nourishing about him. As though he has anything but darkness to offer.

He’s clocked you too. Has seen the way kindness and warmth dance across your features like a living, licking flame. Has seen you glow brightly too with a steady, constant fire, which he is sure must run hotter and more fierce beneath the surface than any would estimate. He had noticed too, of course, the swell and contours of your body, hiding beneath your clothes in all the places he most enjoys.

He’s thought before how he’d like to find out where the hunger in your eyes could take him if he chased it; but in the end he knows there is never any further to go than here. That every road is a dead end since the world ended. That the quarantine zone is the only place with walls more impenetrable than his own.

Still; he’s thought about you more than he’d care to admit. To Tommy. To Tess. To you. To himself. Has thought about the way your lips might feel on his. How soft and warm your body might be if he held it up against him. The way his calloused hands might look with his fingers sunk into your flesh, grabbing up handfuls of you like you are his daily bread - the very thing he needs to survive.

Of burying his head between your thighs for hours and trying to suck the impossible sweetness out of you, as though, somehow, he could then begin to understand how someone as good as you is capable of existing in a world as shitty and cruel as this.

He’s had darker thoughts too though. Thoughts of filling you rough and sudden - if you’d let him. Of burying his anger in you with every thrust, deep enough that he could attempt to forget it. Of letting you take his rage from him for just a few moments - as if it could ever truly leave him for a moment longer than that.

But of course, in actuality, he’s done none of that. Joel hasn’t pulled on a single one of those threads. He hasn’t unravelled.

Instead, for the most part, Joel has simply ignored you. Ignored you, because that’s the precisely the last thing he wants to do. Ignored you, because the safest option - Joel has established - is usually to give himself the opposite of whatever he thinks he wants.

That is… he’s ignored you until today. Until you offered to wash his hair. A simple yet towering offer of kindness in a world blighted by dark and rot. An offer that feels like more than he deserves when all he’s ever done for you is to give you the brush off. To answer you tersely, his aim with every interaction to have it over quick.

Still… he’d said yes. Or, at least, he’d declined to protest. Had nodded. Had followed you.

If he’s being honest with himself, he could have asked Tommy to help him, even if he was trying to obscure the severity of his latest injuries from his dear ol’ brother. Even Tess - she’d have done it. With plenty of griping, but she would have done it.

The truth is though, that he wanted it to be you. Needed it to be you. He’d gravitated towards you, even before he knew what you might be prepared to give him. Even without any trade to offer. For you, he’d unravelled. Just a little; in a moment of weakness. He hasn’t slept and he hasn’t succeeded and he hasn’t succumbed for so long, that he finally slipped. Finally gave into one of his wants. Finally gave in to what he wanted most. To seat himself in front of the warm hearth of you and to feel a little god dang comfort.

Joel opens his eyes, expression washing clean with a new resolve, and your fingers still frozen in his hair. He fixes his gaze on the broken picture rail. Precisely at the point where it fractures. Where it needs fixing. He needs a little fixing too, he thinks. He’s sure now, that he’s chosen the right tool for the job, when not another damn thing could do it.

“No,” he finally responds, his voice unwavering, blinking his bitter coffee eyes, sweetened already by your sugar. A gentle gulp sinking down the corded column of his neck. “I don’t want you to stop.”

From behind and above him, he hears you release a breath as though you may have been holding one, tight in your chest, and you slide your fingers from his hair. “Good.” Good. The word rattles pleasantly in his chest when you say it. “We’ll do your conditioner next.”

And, for the first time, Joel unclenches his fingers from where they have been curled around the arm rests of the chair, clinging on to the lip until his knuckles had turned white.

This time - for all he can tell via his scalp - your touch feels a little bolder. A little looser. You even drag your nails over his head now, applying long, sizzling scratches which send that same buzzy warmth snaking down his back. You massage him more eagerly, blood flooding to his crotch as he thinks about having your strong, supple, precise hands work him in other places. He imagines, as your nails graze over him, how you might claw harsh stripes down his back in a moment of ecstasy. As your thumb massages a circle into the spot behind his ear, imagines how you might circle the soft pad of it around the swollen head of his cock, collecting up the glistening bead of precum as he leaks for you. Imagines, as you carefully pour a cup of warm, cascading water over his head, how he could bathe himself with the warmth of your skin on his. Imagines, as he hears the subtle wet sounds created as you scrunch sweet-smelling elixirs into his hair, how it might sound if your own juices were being coaxed out of you by his fingers until they began to drip, working down his veined, muscled forearm.

He allows himself to imagine everything he plans to deny himself. He at least allows himself to have that.

“That temperature still okay for you?” you ask as you lift the cup of water once again, fracturing his sordid daydreams.

Joel gives a terse grunt. It’s all he can manage.

“So,” you ask breezily. “Are you going anywhere nice for your holidays?”

It takes Joel a few moments to realise just what you’re doing. To twig. It’s a decade - shit, more - since he had a haircut like that, so it takes him a while to pick up that you’re echoing the banal small talk which used to occur as you sat down in the barber chair. Those memory cogs are stiff. He hasn’t turned them in a long time. He doesn’t want to remember that there was anything before. At least, not a lot of it.

Still, your bit takes him by surprise. It’s such a ludicrous contrast that it makes him laugh to think about how things have changed. Who can even go on holiday now? You can’t even leave the quarantine zone. Shit. Even if you could, you wouldn’t want to. And so, Joel laughs. He laughs and he barely recognises the sound from his own mouth. He laughs… and he instantly regrets it, because he knows better than to pull on any of those threads.

But; it’s too late now.

He laughs and you mirror him, the sound melodious and hopeful, and all of a sudden Joel can imagine everything he’s been avoiding you for.

He hasn’t been avoiding you because he wants to fuck you - not really. He’s fucked plenty of folk, and he’s moved on.

He’s avoiding you, because of how easily he can imagine you in a summer dress, twirling in the yard to show it off to him. How easily he can imagine you sitting on a front porch gripping your morning cup of coffee and the sun shining on your face as you smile up at him. How easily he can imagine you lifting a tray of freshly baked cookies out of the oven, batting his hand away as he steals one before it cools.

Truthfully, he has no idea whether you ever did a single one of those things before - before all this. He doesn’t even really care whether you did. He knows it’s a flat, idealised, empty picture postcard version of you.

But, even so, it still hurts.

It still hurts, because of just how easily he could imagine waking up beside you in his house.

The house that no longer exists.

The house with Sarah in it.

And that’s why he never pulls on that thread.

That’s why he avoids you.

That’s why this can never work.

Because you?

You make him remember all the sweet things. All the sweet things the world used to contain before the rot and the death and despair painted over everything. Infected it.

You make him remember the taste of fresh mangoes. The feeling of sand beneath his feet and waves washing over his toes. Saturdays at the mall. Picking away at his guitar in the living room. The easy jubilation of ball games on the TV on Sundays, with Tommy in the kitchen plating up chicken wings. Of bad movie nights. Of mornings spent around the kitchen table, and his daughter cooking up birthday pancakes.

That’s why he can’t ever start to be happy with you. Why he can’t pull on that thread; because all the good things in life are attached to it. All tied and knotted and tangled up with “before”.

When he dreams of you - when he lets himself - he dreams of then too.

He has to, doesn’t he? Because the past is the only place to build a future when the present is apocalyptic, isn’t it? When you are the only thing he hasn’t lost yet, and everything else -pretty much- is already dead and gone.

It kills him that he found you now.

Found you too late.

It kills him because Sarah would have loved you, and because he thinks he could have too.

You don’t know all of this, of course. You can’t ever know this. And so, your oblivious fingers continue touching him, until he feels another moan begin to spool itself tight in his chest, getting ready to unravel. This time though, he is less sure whether it is a moan of pleasure or of anguish. More and more these days, those two feelings have been starting to feel precisely the same.

“Can we move this along?” he asks gruffly, some of the weight settling back into his brow. He asks, predictably, for the opposite of what he wants. It has to be like that. There’s no other road anymore.

“We can stop whenever you like but… that’s a shame.”

His frown deepens. “Why?”

“Because your hands had only just started to unclench.”

Joel’s heart clenches at the thought you were watching him that intently. That you were weighing the state and tension of his body. Valiantly trying to release some of that weight from him, even when you must be so heavy too.

And of course, knowing this, he only tries to push you further away. Before his dreams of you are seared even more brightly under his skin.

“You know what. I should go.” His chest constricts - throat grows tighter, a lump forming.

Joel idly wonders if his grief will ever stop feeling so raw. That’s the second disease, he thinks. The other monster infecting everything around it. The shadow of the original cloud. He wonders if it will always be this debilitating, even after he’s pushed it down as far as it can go. It’s not only a grief for what was lost, he ponders. It’s also a grief for what he can never have again. It's a grief for you and all the ways he could have loved you.

He sits up -carefully but abruptly, hand clamped over his aching ribs- and his wetted hair sends rivulets snaking down his face, his neck, his chest. Inching beneath the collar of his green button down shirt. Collecting on his shoulders like a pattern of indoor raindrops.

“Joel,” you scold, tutting lightly. Following quickly after him with the towel, trying to mop up after him. Hastily, you towel off his hair. Sneak your hand beneath his collar, gathering the drops up from his chest and neck.

With effort, and a grimace, Joel swings his legs around, until he is sitting upright, feet planted on the floor. But, whether for the pain or for the promise of pleasure - he’s not sure - he can’t bring himself to move any further than that. Especially not as you finally round from the basin, the damp towel slung over your shoulder, your hands and wrists still shined and wet from caressing his hair in a way he can only describe as reverent.

You kneel before him, drying your hands off and setting the towel down before boldly sliding your palms up his denim-clad thighs. “Joel. Would you just let me take care of you?"

He meets your eyes and finds them soft but determined. Empty of darkness, even with the black expanding abyss of your pupil eating away at the colour of your iris.

Joel looks down at your hands as you begin to smooth them up and down, inching slowly up towards his crotch before retreating - repeating the pattern. He looks at you in displeasure, but there’s nothing about your touch which is unwelcome - and that’s exactly the problem. He swallows. Gathers his question up in his throat before he offers it to you gently, as though in cupped, outstretched palms. “How?”

Your beautiful eyes flash with pity then, he thinks, or something like it. It seems like a silly question, but after all this time he doesn’t recall what it’s like to be cared for. He doesn’t know how to let you.

Your palm reaches up to the scruff on his cheek. You smooth it fondly. “Lie back,” you encourage, with a soft smile which seems to glow from the inside, like a porch backlit with the glow of home. “And just let me take care of the rest.”

Joel has always found something to fight for, but today, he has no fight left in him. In truth, he doesn’t want to fight this. To fight you. It is easy to give in to you. In fact, it's too easy. That has always been the problem.

Your hands continue to travel up and down his thighs, and he feels the warmth of you bleed through the fabric.

God. He’s already hard for you. Already full and throbbing in his jeans. Already, he is imagining your hands wrapping around the thick, straining mass of him. Imagining the way that -in moments - you may be unloosing his belt, threading leather through denim loop. The way you might pop the button keenly with your thumb, and he might groan as you relieve the pressure. The way you might unzip the straining fly to have his substantial length spring free, so rarely touched and so so ready to be taken care of.

At the thought of that alone, he’s straining against the seams of his pants, a pressure which sits smack bang between pleasure and pain.

“Joel,” you whisper softly, and he realises he hasn’t yet moved from his position.

“Right.” He swallows. He lies back. Stretches himself out, feeling far more exposed this time, even if he is still fully clothed.

You stand, quickly disappearing the basin away and soon you’re back, standing over Joel and watching him laid out all needy like this. His eyes travel over you, entranced by your form, and he suddenly needs friction. Needs the relief he didn't even know he was waiting for until you offered it - or, implied it. He bucks his hips up, not even caring if he’s being subtle, and the denim and leather creak as he shifts. He punches out a breath as he strains in his pants, chasing any morsel of friction he can. The feeling of his shaft pushing harder against the seam as his whole cock twitches for you. For those hands. For that plush mouth. Maybe for that cunt of yours.

As usual though, when Joel feels anything good, there is a familiar swell of guilt too; this time, riding in on the flood of arousal to his cock. This time, there’s something new to be feeling guilty for too. Something to add to that already long list. He feels guilty for having all of these thoughts about you, despite never having asked you where you were from. Before. What you used to do. Who you lost.

“I’m sorry,” Joel offers, before he even knows that his mouth is moving. Before he’s even figured out what it is he’s sorry for.

Truth is, he’s sorry for so many reasons. For what he’s done. What he’s lost. Whatever you’ve lost. For not asking you about it. Mainly, he realises, because he can’t make you any promises. None that he could keep. Not to keep you safe. He can’t promise you that.

He thinks you’ll ask him what for - why he’s sorry. But instead, you say something else.

“Don’t be.”

If only it was that easy.

Even so, he looks into your eyes as your hungry gaze skims the length of his body, settling at the bulge at his crotch as you drag your tongue along the pillow of your lower lip. You’re beautiful. Vibrant. Full of life and lust and hunger. Alive in a dead world; and suddenly, it doesn’t matter one bit to Joel where you came from. It doesn’t matter what happened before. It only matters where you’re going. What you want. How he can give it to you.

But it is you who gives him something.

You hinge at the hips, slanting your mouth against Joel’s, and he feels your lips brush up against the scruff on his top lip. Feels the pillow of your plush mouth meet his before your tongue fleets out, licking into him like a searing, dancing flame. You hum hungrily into his mouth and his lips chase you as you pull away, another backlit smile dancing on your face, your features already beginning to resemble home to him in a world where there's no such thing.

Joel watches you move now, with quiet fascination, as you kick off your boots. As you wiggle your pleasing hips, untying then easing your cargo pants and panties down your thighs. His tongue curls around his lip as he is gifted glimpses of your skin - although you are still covered to your upper thigh by the yellow tunic top you’re wearing - and now he can’t help but palm himself through his jeans for a morsel of relief.

Still. What you're about to offer him? It feels like far too much. “What are you doing? You don’t have to-“

“-Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll stop,” you promise, meeting his eyes, open and honest and ready to back off if he doesn’t want this. But shit, how could he not want you? Look at you - and so he can’t. He can’t possibly tell you that, even though he thinks that he should.

“No. God, I want you,” Joel pleads, voice hollowed-out with need. All spent, like ash.

“And you’re going to have me.”

You kick your pants and panties off, leaving them to pool discarded on the floor, and Joel palms himself a little harder, grabbing the fat roll of himself through the denim as he catches a glimpse. They’re nothing sexy, of course; but from the way they’ve fallen he is able to note the telltale wet spot on the crotch. It looks like you’ve soaked them through, and God he wants to feel your wetness for himself.

You ease over him, settling your knees on to either side of the leather chair, where Joel’s legs are stretched out before him, sturdy thighs slightly parted to accommodate the arousal between his legs.

You’re still wearing your tunic top, bright yellow like sunshine, and the length of it dances and clings at intervals to your hips and thighs as you move. It’s driving him wild that you are bare beneath. All he can think about is that warm, delicious wetness of yours spilling over him. God, he wants to hear it. Wants to squeeze it out of you. Wants it to drip down the veined shaft of him.

You straddle his thighs, knees folded, the soles of your feet pointed up towards your ass cheeks, and your heat settles just below his own - not quite grinding over him, but tantalisingly close.

You take a moment like this to simply look at him. To gaze into his coffee brown eyes as though there’s something more to him than being sorry and bitter. Like you could see anything sweet there. Anything worth wanting. Then, you comb his damp hair back with your fingers, drawing the strands back from his forehead. Tucking and curling them around his ears.

Your touch - your tenderness - makes him ache. Makes him throb. Makes him want to bury himself in you. His tongue, his fingers, his cock, his feelings - anything of him you’ll take. And, as he wraps his arms around you a wracked moan unspools from his chest as his rough fingertips find the soft skin beneath your yellow tunic. As his touch traverses the contours of you he’s always admired from a distance.

As his jaw falls open, slack with desire, you drink down his moan, catching the resonant sound in the cave of your mouth. Kissing him with a gentle yet constant hunger. With a red hot spark of deviance in your sweet eyes which almost makes Joel spill creamy ropes into his pants there and then. Your tongue travels along your lower lip. Your gaze drops, lust dark and heavy to the bulge at his crotch, and you unloop his belt with those hands of yours. They'll look small next to the size of him, he thinks. He likes that thought a lot.

“Let’s see what contraband you’re smugglin’ in these pants of yours, cowboy," you smile, and Joel's eyes crinkle with rare amusement. His face tips up with a lopsided smile which is quick to drop - all of him focussed on where you're about to touch him.

He twitches eagerly in his jeans thinking about how tight you will grip him, but you don’t touch him just yet. Instead, you shuffle yourself back, down his legs, giving yourself enough space to tug on his clothing and to ease it down his thighs. Once his pants and his boxers have reached his knees you stop there, abandoning them almost as soon as his thick, veined length is sprung free, nestling all tender against the hatch of greying hair trailing down his abdomen - where his shirt is lifted.

He’s flushed a deep colour already. Veined and needy and weeping for you. His need becomes even more urgent yet as he thinks of your hands and the way they move - the way they might touch him. Take care of him. As he thinks about you sliding your thumb over the pearl of precum at his head.

Still, he is not quite ready for the feeling when you dip forward to slide your tongue around the head of him instead, gathering that salty bead with your tongue, lapping it up with relish. He feels you hum around the head of him, the vibration sending a zip of pleasure flooding along his length. Making his balls tighten and ache already.

He wants you. He needs you. He wants you with an urgency, and yet here you are, still taking your time. Taking your time to suck at him and feel him weigh heavy over your tongue until your jaw aches from it. To grip him in your hand and marvel at the girth of him. At the way he is so sensitive that every motion and shift of your pattern makes him melt into the chair, increasingly boneless, his brow burdened with need.

You are tender with him. Careful, of his injuries. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? You touch him like he’s wounded; everywhere. His whole body. His whole soul too. And he is, isn’t he? All of him is hurting? Has been for so long?

Joel groans, his lip almost splitting from biting down and stifling his moans. He never was a vocal lover but God, it’s different for you. And this time, the sound punches out of him as you shift. As you settle your cunt over him and he feels your sopping heat glide along his length for the first time. It is a non-descript sound, halfway between pain and pleasure; and instantly, concern flashes in your eyes. You pause; lift off of him with a rise of your thighs and check-in with him.

“Joel. Are you okay? Am I hurting you?”

Are you? His breath is searing in and out of his lungs. Ragged breaths, jolting his pained ribs. You have him on the edge and so alight with desire for you that his need feels unbearable. He’s aching to fill you up. His face is contorted and crumpled by his need, brows drawn down, eyes half-lidded. But is this pain? Or is this something else? Something he has forgotten.

For a moment, then, he almost answers “yes”. Yes, because he doesn’t remember anything else but pain and so, the sensation he’s feeling now? Isn’t that pain too? Is there anything else?

He’s almost grateful when he shifts slightly, writhes against the chair to buck his hips keenly up in search of you as you withdraw so cruelly from him, his muscles coiling up. He’s grateful that the shift does indeed send pain blooming through his side; because he knows then, with certainty, that you are bringing him nothing but pleasure.

He’s grateful too though, for the pain, because a pleasure like this? A pure hit of it, not cut through with anything he's more used to? Joel thinks it would be too much for him to take. Joel thinks you are too much for him. Far more than he deserves.

“Joel?” you prompt, sliding your palm against his scruff. He hears it rasp like a scraped match. “I want you.”

You don’t want me, the voice in his head sounds out. I have nothing I can give you. But those are not the words that make it to his lips. Those are not the words at all. “Then have me, sweetheart.”

Joel may have nothing he feels he can give you, but holy shit he wants everything you are offering. He wants your plush, velvet mouth. Your smooth thighs. He wants the pooling slick between your legs - and for once, just this once, he intends to allow himself to satisfy his needs.

He figures he will simply owe you a debt. Find something that you want or need and acquire it for you. He simply has to think of this like a transaction, doesn’t he? Something familiar. Something he knows. That way, he’s not taking anything he doesn’t deserve - and he sure as hell doesn’t deserve you.

Once invited back to his body, sure of what he wants, you kiss him. Deeply, hungrily, your tongue rolling and writhing against his. Your breaths just as ragged as his. Your thighs quaking next to his, your want more than evident.

You break for air and you rise up on your knees again so that you can settle over him, notching the fat, swollen head of him against your folds.

You look like a dream on top of him, and with this yellow fabric dancing about your thighs, you look to Joel like you’re wearing a sun dress. Indeed, when he looks up at you - when he blocks everything else out - you make it feel like nothing ever happened. Like nothing was ever lost.

You look just like you’re about to fuck him on his bed on white crisp sheets. Like you’ll fall asleep beside him and in the morning he’ll make you breakfast.

You look like everything he wanted and found far too late.

You are beautiful. You are good. You are gentle. Gentle still. Gentle despite everything. And where on earth did you learn that from - how on earth did you hang on to it - in a world like this? A world which has not been gentle with him. Which has been out to get him at every turn.

You are gentle with him, even when he is undeserving. Even when he has been anything but.

Gingerly then, you settle yourself over him, and once his head is notched there and your slick hand is guiding him home, he slips easily past your folds. His eyes flutter closed as he feels your warmth wrap around him, the tightness of you hugging his girth. You’re so tight that he feels like he must be splitting you apart, but the way you’re shaking for him, the way these delicious moans unravel from your mouth tells him it feels just as good for you too.

You’re gentle with him. Sinking down on him slowly. Being ever so cautious of his ribs and his bruises and scrapes. You’re making him feel so good. So close to coming undone.

But god, he’s not planning on being gentle with you.

There’s a part of Joel that wants to make love to you, sure; but he’s not even sure he’d know how to do that anymore. How to be tender. How to be gentle. And so, he reaches for you in the only way he knows how. Reaches for you with his arms, his hands. With a body that doesn’t remember pleasure - not really. With a soul that doesn’t remember anything good - not really. He reaches for you, with hands that only know how to kill things.

In the end, it’s clunky, when he extends his touch towards you. Rough - and far too desperate. He reaches for you like it’s survival - the one thing he knows how to do - and he claws at your hips, the rough pads of his flesh sinking into your skin like dough. He has the sense, at least, to check with you, to ask with words rasped through gravel in his throat if he can fill you up. And as soon as you say yes, as soon as your breathy affirmatives and pleas lilt to his ears, Joel is dragging you down on him. Spearing you -abrupt and sudden- with the fat length of his dick, surging into you all at once.

The motion, along with the sudden swell of him punches a breath from your lungs, your rib cage flaring with quick short pants. Your eyes, rolling back into your skull as you mewl his name, and god, if he wasn’t hurt he’d be drilling into you already, fucking himself up into you at a brutal pace, so long as you’d let him.

“S-sorry,” he stutters, with effort. “Too much?”

“Almost. Joel - fuck. I’m so full of you.”

He stills as you breathe around him, adjusting to his size, and as soon as you’re ready you rise up on your knees, dragging electric pleasure all along his shaft as your cunt strokes and grips him tightly.

Then, when you sink yourself down once more, impaling yourself on his length, Joel screws his eyes shut as he eases -glides- into the wet, warm cushion of you all over again. You’re so soft and tight and forgiving, your walls relenting to the girth of him, yet providing such glorious friction that it makes his head spin. Makes him see spots, the edges of his vision whiting out.

Next, Joel moves too, adjusting his hips slightly. Helping you impale yourself on him over and over like this. He keeps it going, despite the burn of pain in his ribs and his shoulder. He tries to guide you with the claws of his hands at your hips, until it begins to hurt him too much. Until all he can do is lie back and take it from you. All he can do is feel it, emitting gusty, billowing breaths from the shocked “o” of his plush lips as he attempts to stave of his end. To do all he can to take care of your end too before he spills himself.

He needs to. Needs to take care of you like this, because he can’t offer you any other damn thing.

He can’t promise to take care of you.

He can’t promise that to anyone ever again.

He will only break it.

So, no promises. But surely, he can feel pleasure, for these fleeting moments? Surely, he can give you that too, because even if he doesn’t he’s damn sure you deserve at least that much.

He reaches for you. In desperation again. Like it’s survival. Like he can’t live without this. Without you. Even though he has already. Even though he'll have to again.

For now though, for right now, he's filling you all the way up. Squeezing your juices out of you. Pushing them out with every thrust until he’s fucking you with wet, obscene sounds. Until your slick is coursing down his shaft, coating his balls, inching over him.

With a grunt, Joel gathers some slick with the two forefingers of his left hand, and he rubs the calloused pads of his fingers into your clit. You yowl at the pressure -the pleasure- and then you guide him with your hand over his, Joel quickly learning your pace and your patterns, replicating it perfectly when you release your guiding touch.

It feels so good. It feels so good and your eager, pleasured moans are billowing down to him, your cunt clenching down on him and his dick is feeling fucking blissful as you repeatedly sink yourself. It feels good - so good - and it’s more than he deserves but god, he’s going to take it. He's going to take it even if he has to be punished for it later.

He’s pretty sure the world has been punishing him for years anyway. Pretty sure it’s keeping score and will be sure to let him know about it if he dares to take too much.

For now though.

Holy shit.

It feels so good and you’re so beautiful. So perfect. Better than he could have imagined, his flattened daydreams of you nothing compared to the real thing. You’re a vision, and you’re too good for this blighted earth and you’re every bit deserving of the life Joel knows he can never give you.

It’s bittersweet and you’re beautiful; but you’re too beautiful to look at - bright like the sun in your yellow tunic, fabric moving around your thighs like a sun dress, like something you might have worn in the before times. Like you might have worn in his yard if he’d still had a home to offer you. Maybe. Maybe you would've. It kills him that he'll never know. Never know what you could have had. What he could have given you.

You’re beautiful, and god you’re too beautiful to look at and so he drags you down to his lips as you clamp down around him, squeezing him like a vice, causing pleasure to sear white hot from his middle, creamy ropes of cum filling you up as you convulse. Your spasming cunt sends jolting aftershocks zipping through his length, ekeing every last drop from him, draining him dry.

You’re too beautiful. Too good of a thing for him to hold on to - and so Joel keeps kissing you, his hands coming to cup your face as tenderly as his killing hands know how. Kissing you, for long enough that he can quash the tears which threaten to squeeze out from the corners of his eyes. He kisses you softly, his sentiments dissolving like sugar against your mouth - as sweet as he can muster.

He kisses you, until he feels the shape of your mouth morph into a smile, and that’s it. That's when he stops.

That’s when he stops, because he can’t let himself feel this. He can’t let himself feel this because he can’t pull on that thread. Not when everything he has worked so hard to push down is all knotted and tangled together. Everything he’s loved and everything he’s lost, all bundled up in his chest.

He can’t let himself feel this because it was far more than he expected to feel.

He’d thought that you would be quick. Thought -hoped- you were just using him. Like this was a transaction. That maybe this was how you collect advantages. How you’ve managed to survive. Instead though, you gave, and you took, but it was not transactional in the slightest. And Joel has nothing left in his heart or his pockets except ration cards. Nothing he can give you in return.

Most importantly though, he can’t let himself feel this, because happiness died when the world did.

Died when she did.

And, happiness?

Well - Joel doesn’t believe he deserves to feel it again.

That’s why he encourages you off of him a little too quickly, even when you pepper kisses along the column of his neck. Why he moves away a little too abruptly, even when you tongue hungrily at the salt-slick sweat which has pooled in the hollow of his throat. Why he sets his face, all stern again even as he’s still leaking out of you.

Anyway, he stands, grunting out in pain. Maybe in anguish. Pulling his pants up with his good arm, and preparing to go.

He sets his face, and he looks back at you, where you have huddled yourself in his spot on the chair, your makeshift yellow sun dress hitched up around your hips, exposing where you glisten, all slick with the evidence of what he just did with you.

You're beautiful. Too beautiful. You look like summer when he meets your eyes. A sun that is bright and constant, like it used to be before the rot clouded over the skies.

A light that is far too bright for him.

Part of him expects you to look sad. To look surprised that he has leapt up like this, motioning to leave so violently. Expects you to plead with him to give you more; but instead, you look at him levelly. Knowing, not naive. Maybe you too are clear on the limits of what’s possible. Clear that there are some things that can never be.

Still, as that soft smile plays over your face, as Joel holds the memory of your touch over his body, the bitter coffee look in his eyes sweetens just a little.

“Listen. Thanks," he states brusqely. It’s not enough. Not by any stretch. But unless you want some contraband or some shit, it’s all he’s got.

“No problem, Joel-y. I... I just wanted to take care of you. I thought you deserved that - at least once.”

Tears prick at the corners of Joel’s eyes. Stinging; but pushed down and flattened before you can even notice it. He’s not quite sure. Not quite sure whether hearing you say he deserves something he’s sure that he doesn’t counts as pleasure or pain, but he supposes that it doesn’t matter anymore anyway. He’s back to not knowing the difference. Not recognising pleasure or happiness when they stare him in the face, because now they have become strangers.

Joel nods efficiently at you. Picks up his rucksack and moves towards the doorway, trying not to think about the fact you’re still full of him. About the fact that you’re still smiling, that backlit glow of home imviting him in.

Truth be told, he can’t imagine ever being happy again.

If he could imagine it though? If he could imagine being happy, he’s sure as all hell that it would be with you.

You’re like summer, he thinks. Bright. Luminous. It's just that Joel’s not looking for the light.

For someone who’s so used to the dark? Like him? The light is blinding.

Still, he pauses in the doorway, turning back towards you for one moment more. From the surprise on your face now, he can tell you didn’t even expect that much from him - and by God, you deserve so much better.

His eyes sweeten, just a little further, and his face sets - now with a different kind of resolve. He offers his words, like they’re cupped in outstretched palms. Like he could be gentle. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“You don’t owe me a debt, Joel.”

He nods, but that doesn’t mean at all that he accepts your assertion.

His eyes tick over to the broken picture rail, right where it fractures. His gaze lingers on it for a moment, cataloguing what tools he might need to fix it. Clocking the picture frames of salvaged art you have leaning up against the wall, not yet hung.

“I said, I'll make it up to you.” You nod efficiently back at him, and Joel drinks one more long measure of you in before he leaves. Maybe it's not quite a promise, but right now, it's all he's got.

He’d burn the world down for you, he thinks, if it could change a damn thing.

Thing is though, the world has already burned.

He can’t make you many promises. Can’t keep you safe. Make you happy. Offer you a home.

He’ll only let you down.

Maybe all of that is true. Maybe it is - but Joel knows one thing for sure. You’re brighter than the sun, and, in a world full of darkness? He just can’t look away, even though you’re blinding.

[bobbydagen24]

little Creek backstory idea I've been thinking about recently.

( Look at that big adorable chubby smile lol )

I've talked before about the idea of Creek returning in a future film and being given a proper redemption story maybe with him returning and Branch and Poppy being forced to work with him

to try and save the village from some looming threat which Creek has knowledge on and the duo begrudgingly learn to give him another chance.

anyway when thinking about Creek recently I came up with this backstory idea for him to try and flesh him out a little more

the idea was that since I'm pretty sure Creek's age isn't confirmed? I'd have him be about as old as Branch or maybe even a year or two older

meaning he was alive and old enough to remember the years the trolls were trapped in Bergentown and following the escape like Branch he was left orphaned by the Bergens

but instead of isolating himself from everyone as a response to his Trauma like Branch did

Creek did live a fairly normal life as part of the community but basically growing up as a foster kid in pop village Creek developed an emotional distance to everyone around him

meaning his relationships while friendly and serviceable ( like his relationship with Poppy and the snack pack ) were ultimately just kinda surface level

since Creek never let himself feel any genuine connection to other people and instead developed his "" I have to look out for number 1 "" mindset since no one else was going to.

while you could argue this creates a problem in regards to him disregarding Branch's fears over the Bergens which it kinda does tbf but also Creek would have still grown up in a community

that hadn't seen a Bergen in over 2 Decades plus a community that actively rewarded mockery of Branch's fears, which means I think Creek with this backstory still not buying into Branch's fears

and making fun of him for them would still make sense especially since it helped his public persona as the chill fun guy who everyone liked

also I feel it would actually make Creek a bit of an interesting counterpart to Branch in a way if they were both orphans from the Bergen days

but Branch went in the direction of being outwardly uncaring and anti social and constantly afraid but ultimately he deeply cared for the people around him deep down.

while Creek seemingly was a normal kind caring member of the community but underneath he always was very detached due to his upbringing

making him think life was basically an every man for himself type of game since no one else was really looking out for him growing up other than himself.

like I said this was just an idea for a potential Creek backstory to flesh him out I'd been thinking about recently

and if Creek did come back and we got that whole redemption plot I feel he and Branch could have some interesting interactions where Branch actually realises

the two of them have more common than he'd have ever thought

I imagine Branch had always assumed Creek was some spoilt brat who had everything handed to him growing up so to find out he was actually a lone wolf who pretty much raised himself after the escape

same as him would probably throw Branch for six lol.

and maybe learning this about Creek actually explains somewhat why he behaved so uncaring towards Poppy and the snack pack post betrayal

since he never actually had much of an actual emotional connection to them and maybe he even assumed it was the same vice versa due to his warped world view

and that coupled with them coming to understand that he acted badly in selling out the village due to fear in extreme circumstances

I think could be a good way to get Branch and Poppy to understand him a tad more and give him another chance

maybe even teaching him a thing or two about actually forming proper emotional connections and letting yourself actually be vulnerable with other people.

Idk just a random story idea I had recently lol.

[kaija-rayne-author]

I guess the discourse today is about Astarion being the favourite poster boy of the devs to the detriment of the other characters.

Yes. That's unequivocally true. Wyll having so little compared to Astarion is also an example of racism.

It's also capitalism. Larian can't make more games unless BG3 does well. So far it has, so in their choice of poster boy they chose correctly.

Every business, especially entertainment ones, follows a similar model. Develop stories or games that the previous game helped fund. It's common in book publishing too.

(Which, tbf, is my realm of knowledge, but the business facts are the same.)

What you, if you're indie, or the publisher, if not, chooses to spend time on is the thing/character/aspect/story that will sell the most copies so they can stay in business.

They bet on Astarion being popular because:

1. Vampire, vampire stories don't seem to get old. People want more.

2. White hair, if you're at all into gaming or anime, you should recognize the white-haired anime boy coding Astarion has.

3. He's pretty. In games & books like these, people want to get turned on or be sucked into emotions, that's rather the point. So, of course, they made him pretty and gave him an angsty backstory about it. Have you noticed that his vampire fangs are the more traditional style and the rest have funky (and likely more efficient) chompers with the fangs on the front teeth?

4. Twink, you'd have to be really not paying attention to not notice that one. They tend to be attractive to the largest section of players.

6. Slow burn, a lot of people prefer slow burn romance.

7. Classically handsome. You could turn him into a statue (and can!) and he wouldn't look out of place.

I don't experience this type of point form character building, my characters tend to march fully formed into my head and demand I write them.

But Astarion was built as a fictional character that would (hopefully) capture a broad cross-section of players and give the game some more sex appeal.

Sex sells.

I'd lay money I don't have on every aspect of Astarion's character having been a deliberate choice to encourage sales.

And that's fine. That's what capitalism does. Don't like it? Start voting for social support programs and things like ubi so that people can create without worrying about the bills.

Is it fair to the other characters and to the gamers who love other characters more than Astarion? Absolutely not. I do hope Larian gets the message and produces more content to make them all equivocal.

Especially for Wyll, they did him so dirty.

Is Wyll having the least lines and scenes racist? Yup.

Larian, despite their faults, produced something that so few games companies have done recently. A single purchase, single player RPG without micro-transactions that was an excellent game straight from release.

Other games companies are bitching about that because it's like sand in the oyster of their business models.

Which, for a while now, has been to roll out a game that wasn't ready yet and use the players as unpaid, uncompensated labour to find bugs etc. As a gamer, I've really hated that.

Did Larian fuck up? Uh, yeah. On several issues. But they also made an amazing game that was awesome from release.

It would be a shame to lose sight of that.

It's important to call out the shite when we see it, but the current 'it has to be perfect for me, or I won't play' attitude rampant on the 'net these days is disturbing to say the least.

I've read Larian has a feedback thing on fridays. If this really bothers you, hustle on over and participate in the feedback session.

They're still actively working on the game. They can still make changes and they seem reasonably responsive to fan feedback.

But just remember... the reason Astarion is the poster boy with the most content is because of capitalism. It was likely a cold, business focused decision vs anything else.

Which doesn't make it better. I just figured inserting a bit of entertainment business knowledge might be helpful to the discussion.

[ceoofmetagala]

Please direct me to your beam mage hero of yore

Stellar… is it? (Hopefully got it right)

Because THAT OC IS FIRE WTH I simply must see more

(If you want to) (no pressure)

Yes! You have ut right. Stellar the evil cat.(have some exclusive stellars)

Stellar, the beam mage hero of yore he/him.

Below cut is: stellars past life, how he met bami, how me met flora and gala, how the heros of yore formed and his path to evil

Tws: mentioned violence,and details about characters deaths too especially the part about Dr Adwins death can be a little sickening. Thought tbf she kinda deserves her fate a tad. So don't feel too bad.

He has two apprances, the one he takes casually and his hero wear. Based off my fav gear for the beam mage in super kirby clash 😙

He rarely wears his hood, which is considered to be odd and even scandelous 😨😨,!!,

You see, his species tends to wear hoods to protect thier sensitive ears. Stellar however doenst care to do this. This is msotly because he dislikes the feeling of the hood on.

So... how did he become a hero of yore and go down the path he did?

Well he started off as a relatively weak and low class kitty. He was nothing more than a nobody. Hence his more reserved hood with very few patterns the higher class you are the more patterns are present on your hood.

Until he met Bami(the hammer lord hero of yore), his very first friend! Bami seemed to be the onky one who saw him as unique and likewise stellar saw bami as unique as well. They decided to make a better life for themselves, together ane to do taht they ran away and changed thier appreances up and names.

On thier way they both got stronger together and arrived at a town where bami met his soon to be wife, Diane.

It happned this town, the traveling flora and gala were together since Dr.Adwin had built robots she wnated to model after puffballs and chose galacta to use and she was successful! These robots were intended to be helpful.

Until... something went worng. One of the robots had gone rouge and was attacking the town! It was later found that waht they thought was just blood of Dr.adwin was all that was left of her body as it had been so throughly destoryed that you couldn't recognize it as remains of a living being.

So it was left up to the four to stop the robot in which all had succeeded with the power of teamwork and friendship and found that whem all 4 came together, they became so much more powerful. So they decided to form a team together. So now the heros of yore were fromed.

There was of course questions and how Adwin ended up like that, where the second robot had gone and what had caused Blacknoise to go Rouge.

So the heros of yore work together yay!

Now onto how stellar started his path to evil, you see stellar had always been envious of those who were better than him. He feared he would fade into the background again so he made sure to be as flashy and well known as he could.

So when void termina was defeated, he expected some more appreciation but it seemed evegrone was focused on one person, galacta knight.

So he baislcly was just very jealous and decided to ruin galactas reputation and with the help of bami he manged to make get into the then developing Galactic NOVA and make a wish, this wish was for galacta to against his will destroy anything he saw.

Galacta unbeknownst to them was at some tea party flora hosted as a sort of thing to relax away from the recent events.

Galactas last decision he could control was leaving the tea party early which, in the fic I had written of this tea party !! Had shown off along with some of the aftermath.

So. Galacta was then sealed and the people at the tea party obviously knew he had msot likely been passed, controlled something that was out of galactas own control but before any of them could argue for his innocence over the course of under a week they were all found dead. (Though little to everyone's else knowledge they were also sealed away in certain objects too!)

Galaxia killed by her own sword(you can porbqly guess where she went)

Narci was found strangled in her own bedroom. (She went into the dimensional mirror.)

Bami and Diane were both found dead together (thier souks going into the masks they wore in battle, the wanning and waxing moon masks from fighters 2)

Finally flora was left he was extemrly sad at this point bevause almost all of his friends are just dead and suddenly stellar wanted to meet up suddenly.

So he met up with stellar, at the spot stellar aksed him to go. The place he held the tea party.

And there stellar told him most of the truth. Stellar left out the key detial taht he had bami assit him throught almost every kill and the framing of galacta.

This was in stellars mind a way to make it up to bami who he had killed out of nessicty in his mind. To leave him as the innocnet victim and he's the sole villan in this.

Stellar mainly told this to flora to be dramatic before killing flora who he had epxcted to be the easiest to kill but what he didn't expect is floras next move. Flora enraged by all the information he got swiftly just killed stellar

First vines seemed to hold him in place. He can't move anymore. It felt like he was losing air

Then a great shadow seemed to be cast. He saw something comming closer. He realized it was a large rock, likely from a portal flora had opened. And it squashed him. He was dead.

Flora killed him. Floras rage took over and just led him to kill his former friend.

Flora didn't handle this well

@kirbyoctournament because I said some things about flora here as well that's enough to be propaganda

Qnwyas more stellar after I told you all of taht:

[felassan]

Some more possible scraps of interest from possible DA:D leaks on Reddit, from another Reddit user, under a cut due to DA:D spoilers:

first, the usual set of disclaimers that should be kept in mind with all leaks: might not be real, unable to verify at present, sometimes leakers think they’re right about things but are unintentionally incorrect or got some wires crossed, games change a fair bit between development phases and final release, the opinion-based stuff is completely subjective, take with grain of salt etc.

I tried to gather comments together in bundles where it would make sense (if on the same or related topics).

-

They commented on the timepoint of development that their information is from, saying "It's up to date." and that they played much more recently than last October. Someone asked "Alright so this is like alpha or pre-alpha video right? Which means what we see is subject to drastic change." (basically asking if they played the same build as the Reddit leaker who shared screenshots/gif) and they said "Ehh, that would be based on how soon it’s released. Because I’ve playtested it recently, and if that video is old, then they’ve changed essentially nothing about it and probably don’t intend to lol." "Between when your comment was first written and now, I’ve learned enough to be convinced that it was indeed from at least a year ago, so you were right. I’ve just played a much more recent version." "Nope, completely different. But I read through it thoroughly just now, and that person is right. Based on the write-up [Insider Gaming report], it is pretty old. They’re talking about missing textures and placeholders. In my playthrough, they could’ve told me the game was done and I would’ve believed them. Definitely wasn’t from the same test." So it sounds like folks leaking played different builts/different playtests at different times.

Someone asked a bit more detail about what playtesting involves and they replied "Certain part of the game. I played specific missions, story missions, so I wouldn't know anything about the sidequest fluff." "I played in the middle because that’s how most controlled tests for games work. You almost never just hit “new game” and start from the beginning."

Reddit user: "Rook is the name of the protagonist. Like “Inquisitor” was in DA:I." Someone speculated that Rook would be a fridged prologue companion like Jenkins Masseffect (F) and they replied "As someone who has played the game, don’t try your hand at the lottery for a while lol."

Reddit user: "Grey Warden isn't the class" [of the character seen in some of the screenshots] "I’m not confirming or denying the existence of different origins, but “Grey Warden” was not the class."

Reddit user: "I've played it. You can't directly control party members. A more apt comparison (and it's extremely weird that they didn't reference this [referring to the first Insider Gaming report] considering it's another bioware franchise) is Mass Effect. It's exactly like ME's wheel where you hold RB or whatever it was, and choose what ability they use." "They can always change it, but I've played it and unfortunately, I can confirm. I personally don't care as I never switch to companions in games where you can anyway, but it's exactly like ME in that aspect."

Reddit user: "Given the timing, I'm 99% sure his source is someone I played with." "Nothing in the leak that was stated definitively is incorrect." [referring to the first Insider Gaming report]

Reddit user [re: combat]: "I've played it, and tbf, it was closer to XV than to say, DA:I" "Combat felt like Andromeda with melee weapons. Take that for what you will lol." "XV was in reference t the combat wheel. It wasn't over the top at all though, it played like a typical action game (ie not teleporting everywhere)." "I've beaten all 3 [existing DA games] and have played Dreadwolf. It's nothing like the other games. It's action combat. Grounded though, not in a fantastical way like DMC." "I don't remember a wheel in XV, but then again I havent played it in a long time. What it is exactly like though (and them not using this descriptor makes me feel like they don't play bioware games) is Mass Effect. I've played it. The wheel is exactly like the ME games."

Reddit user [re: combat, when someone was asking about hack 'n' slash]: "It's more like Inquisition, although I wouldn't describe it as either. Plays like an action game." "What they meant [in the Insider Gaming article] is that it plays like an action game. So not like any of the DA games" "I described my playtime to friends as "Andromeda but melee"." "I thought it was fun. Funner than the DAs of the past. However I never really took advantage of all the tactical options in Bioware games, so if there's someone who is looing forward to that, they'll probably have significantly less fun than I did." They also confirmed the existence of skill trees, a map, choosing the PC's class, companions who used classes and jumping & a jump button. They said that there are 4 ability slots ("I was only ever able to use 4."). There's blocking but not parrying. Stats are levelled up automatically like they are in DA:I, so no skill points to allocate manually. "I’ve played it with 3 companions and 4 skills."

They confirm the following infos from the first Insider Gaming article:

- "The game still lacks features;" The game is missing voice lines and has a lot of placeholder text. - "Dreadwolf has a lot of similarities with previous games in the franchise;" AND "You can recruit members to your team"; The article basically just describes a Dragon Age game. ***POSSIBLE SPOILER*** "It’s understood that you’ll be able to move from your hub to missions by passing through a mirrored portal." - "You cannot control your team members, but you can issue commands to cast abilities;" Key word here is currently perhaps - "Combat will be hack n' slash-like and will be like Final Fantasy XV;" The article did not say it's hack n' slash like FF15, but the combat wheel itself is more like FF15 (I never played FF15 so I don't know if it's a time-slow type ability wheel or what).

and added on this topic, "I can confirm 75% of what that person has said, and the other 25% I just never experienced. Don't know why they would lie about it." "Unless they change it in the future, you can't directly control companions." "I've played it and can confirm everything in that article except for the release date and multiplayer stuff. You cannot directly control your companions, and its full hack and slash" "Other than what I didn't experience (multiplayer/hub) it's all true. Down to the part about a 1/10th of the lines not being recorded yet." "I can confirm almost everything in that leak." "Multiplayer I didn't experience, nor did I experience the hub world that was described, although the portal thing is true." "The hub thing he described, I never played, but I did use the portals he was talking about." They also commented on the missing voice lines, "It's implemented, they're just not all there yet. During my playthrough Id say maybe a 10th of the lines were missing, and a good amount of the monster sounds." "Oh for sure, it’s definitely not a mess at this stage. On the contrary, the environments are pretty beautiful. Only things that were missing were a few audio clips."

Reddit user [re: mirrored portrals and an open world]: "I can't confirm the existence of one, I could've just never experienced it from my time with the game, but I myself never played anything that could be considered open world. Funny enough, I never thought about that until your question just now. But it would make sense from what I played."

Reddit user: "Combat's are great, cutscenes' are decent. Best ever as far as Bioware is concerned (which should be a given). What's not great are the facial animations. Granted the game isn't done yet (and might be far from done, who knows), but as of rn, it's Andromeda 2.0"

Reddit user [re: not controlling party members]: "It's true." "Unless they change it sometime before release, which I doubt, I can confirm that you cannot." "I can confirm. You can't directly control them." They also commented that companion control felt like Mass Effect.

When someone said "i hope they don't mean a real "action" combat, and it would still have those Dragon Age" they replied "That's exactly what they mean." Someone mentioned no party member control and hack n slash, FF combat and they replied "Can confirm, both are true. I wouldn't say "will be like XV", and technically that's not what he said either. What he meant was that it's more of an action combat, not that you'll be teleporting around." Someone asked if it compares to Elder Scrolls and they said "Uhhh, yeah I guess. I usually play Elder Scrolls in first person, so that comparison would be kinda weird to me, but third person elder scrolls I guess would be more accurate than any of the past DA games. ES combat has no weight to it though, and this has weight. For real, it plays like Dark Souls games if you took out the invincibility frames and all the things that make them "hard"."

Someone asked about the party size, and they replied "Yeah, 2 party members and then a third based on what mission you're playing. Weapon wheel to control 3 abilities each for the two companion's you've brought and then 4 of your own abilities." "Now I will say, Idk how far I was into the game, so it's possible that it'll eventually open up to 3 of your choosing, but I played multiple missions and the third person was whoever you were helping at the time." "It’s still 4 [party members in total, so PC+3]."

Someone asked about what's happening to Solas and they replied "I have no idea lol. He was mentioned in passing seeing as he's the big bad now, but I never saw him or anything." "in Mass Effect for instance right? WHat Sovereign was up to wasn't described in every main mission. It wasn't even described in most of them."

Reddit user: "The look of the hair was pretty damn good I will say, the physics of it though, I didn't really pay attention to. Everything about the graphics looked sufficiently next gen, except for the facial animations. They're still Andromeda level, maybe a step up." "Everyone else's hair is great. Your character's hair is...decent." "Graphics are sufficiently next gen except for facial animations. They were the one stand out." "Movements are less stiff feeling, even when people are still. Animations and movement are better as well. They were satisfying to me, but of course, that’s subjective." "visuals and performance were pretty solid from my experience. That could obviously change though."

On facial animations someone asked them "You said that facial animations were only a bit better than those in Andromeda, but how do they compare to Inquisition? Because I think in Inquisition they were somehow better or at least didn't stand out that much like in Andromeda, despite the latter being newer game. I think I'll be okay with them being just a bit better than in Inquisition" and they replied "I’m looking at clips of Inquisition now and I think you hit the nail on the head when you said “at least didn’t stand out as much” because tbh, Inquisition and Andromeda weren’t that far apart in that aspect, they were definitely made using the same process, but Inquisitions somehow don’t stand out as much. Idk whether it’s because a lot of the people talking aren’t human or what. But it looks more like that than Andromeda. But because technology has gotten better, it looks better than both. I guess the conclusion is it still has that stiffness that both of them have, where it looks a couple steps removed from a robot that gets told to move pieces of their face X way at X time, but then at the end come back to Z position. So I guess I’d say the faces look and move like an HD Inquisition. I would’ve compared it to that instead of Andromeda, but I never realized they were so similar until you pointed it out lol."

Reddit user: "Yup, a KO for you is game over." [a KO for the PC]

Reddit user: "The maps feel like they could've came from DA:I design wise."

Reddit user: "It feels the same but different. I know that's an incredibly bs non-answer but it's true. It feels like a 2023 Bioware Dragon Age. For better or for worse. Anybody expecting DA:I 2 will be disappointed." "It'll probably be worth it [the wait] in the sense that DA fans will find it passable. But at this point (keep in mind the game still isn't done) it's not something that feels like it took 10 years to make or anything. Which is probably due to them reportedly restarting development multiple times." "I'd say most things about the game definitely feel more like Andromeda then DA:I" "If they keep it pretty much the same as my playtest, average players will be happy, but people who play Dragon Age games specifically for the Dragon Age gameplay probably won’t be. It’s completely different."

Someone asked about whether it answers DA lore questions, and what the storytelling/spread of storytelling is like and they said "I was dropped in and out of missions, so idk, but I will say it has A LOT of story elements from DA:O" and then "Same answer"

On characters they said "I didn't spend a significant enough amount of time to make that call [whether they're as interesting as the chars in DA:I. they're quirky though" "I think the character designs are sick, but that's completely subjective." "I wouldn't say I had enough time with the characters to get emotionally invested." Also someone asked if the characters are 3D, realistic and complex and they replied "Stereotypes unfortunately". Someone asked how the dialogue compares to ME:A, expressing the opinion that their "biggest issue with MEA was the MCU-esque style of writing that made the dialogue sound like it was ripped from bad tumblr fanfics. I couldn't take most of the cast seriously because they sounded more like caricatures than real characters." They replied "😬 bad news my man. What you just described is exactly how I would describe it.

Reddit user [re: armors]: "Im not sure how to answer that. Nothing really stood out, if that helps. But then again, idk what parts of the game I played. Could've been closer to the beginning where you just get the plain stuff."

Someone asked them "was the camera a tight over-the-shoulder cam like Andromeda, or was it more zoomed out / character centered like DAI / other 3rd person games?" and they replied "Zoomed out, but then tight when you use the weapon wheel (which youll be using a lot)" The other user asked if it was like Mad Max, and they said "Actually that's not a bad comparison. Picture the camera a bit further out though." On tac cam, they said "I was part of the leakers playtest. As of now, there is literally no tactical camera, but like you said, who knows if they’ll add it sometime before release. Just don’t get your hopes up."

Someone asked them "Does it feel like a medieval fantasy game still? It looks so sci fi to me, like the eluvians are shitty Rick and morty style portal guns all of the sudden. Does the neon purple take away from that feeling at all?" and they replied "It didn’t feel sci-fi to me but it sounds like you’re referring to a deeper level than just baseline aesthetics, and for that I think it’d be subjective. If you’re not though, no it still felt distinctly fantasy. Some parts more medieval than others." Someone also asked about warriors breaking stuff in the world, mages restoring terrain and rogues picking locks and they replied "Let’s just say…the game doesn’t play in a way that requires those anymore."

Reddit user: "Map design was one of the best parts, and boy were they gorgeous. The greenery specifically was the only thing in the game where I was like "This is exclusively next gen, like they couldn't have done this on last gen"."

Reddit user: "I thought it was fun, but I mean fun is subjective. Things were changed about the series that some long time fans will hate and some people who never liked Dragon Age will now love, such as the lack of tactical options." "I thought the combat was fun, but fun is subjective ya know? For instance, you guys already know that all the tactical stuff is gone, and for someone looking for that, they wouldn’t find it fun. I guess the takeaway could be that it’s by no means bad. Footage and screenshots are real. That’s 100% the game."

Reddit user: "I’ve played it. Recently. And all of the things people are giving the “year old” line in reference to are still the case. So the likelihood of them being changed are very slim."

Someone asked them "Hello! Could you share (or hint in some way) if some of the characters from previous games will make an appearance? (Beside Varric and Solas, obv). Some old leaks implied Bioware considered dual protagonist at some point, so I'm wondering if it turned into something. Or, at least, any mentions about Inquisition?" and they replied "[besides Varric and Solas] Literally the only people I saw/heard about lmao, sorry. I also never experienced anything regarding dual protagonists."

Someone asked them "Did it look to be anywhere near close to done??? I mean it's kinda a dumb question because on one hand I think you may have only played a certain area... On the other though I don't know anything about why you playtested, nor do I want to but, I am interested in knowing more about the overall size, comparison of detail to say like anything new gen, and whether or not they incorporated newer tech such as haptics, adaptive triggering, graphic upgrade and is the story intriguing or pushed... You know.". They replied:

"No no, that’s not a dumb question at all. Tbh, they could’ve said it was releasing at the end of the year and I’d believe them. The only thing I could see that wasn’t finished were the voice lines, and not even that many weren’t recorded. Maybe 1/10th. Graphics were superb except for the facial animations (and given Andromeda, that might just be how they’re going to stay). Controls were solid, enemies were solid, abilities were solid, UI and menu all looked unique and finished. General gameplay was in a finished state. Had a couple glitches here and there but nothing that couldn’t easily be ironed out.

[re: about the overall size, comparison of detail to say like anything new gen] From what I played, it seems more instanced than open world like DA:I, so I can’t really compare it in size, and obviously the previous 2 games have been outclassed in terms of technology.

[re: whether or not they incorporated newer tech such as haptics, adaptive triggering] Not that I saw, but idk if that’s the type of thing they’d incorporate anywhere before near the end of development. You sound like you’d have a better idea of that than I would though.

[re: graphcis upgrade] Graphics are for sure upgraded. The flora in particular I would say wouldn’t have been able to be created before the PS5 gen. It’s that good. Environments, clothing, faces were up there as well (clothing and faces could’ve been better with your character, but everyone else’s were next gen).

[re: is the story intriguing or pushed] The thing about judging a story is that even the most interesting ones fall flat if you experience it out of order (unless that’s the author’s intention), which I did. Even with putting bits and pieces together from what the characters were saying, I really felt nothing because I was coming in mid storyline."

[source] <- read the comments in context for them to make the most sense ofc :)

Edit - Update:

New comment of interest from the user (thanku @ladymacbethsimp for letting me know!). Someone asked them "can you attribute a single emoji to every companion you saw? like an out of context spoiler kind of thing". They replied "Hmmm I can try…" and posted these three emojis/series of emojis:

The screenshots I have included here are screenshots of the same comment from 2 different devices side by side, as emojis/emoji groupings can change appearance depending on OS etc.

so.. an elven Black man, red hair woman and woman mage?

[hearts401]

You mentioned a coyote oc in my notes? 👀 I'd love to hear all about em /nf

YIPPEE their name isn't official but they're like a legend in their area and usually are called starbringer or light bringer or whatever. i haven't fleshed it out but it was based on some the legends you mentioned. the legend in their universe is that they stole light from the sun and gave it to the moon so the animals didn't have to share daytime. They taught birds to sing and wolves to howl and whatnot

nonbinary because what binary can you fit a god into. usually go by they/them but they'll respond to whatever the tale asks for. Legendgender.

they work with a little witch named beetle who can turn into a rabbit and an assortment of other small animals (including beetles) who calls them Zirky. Beetle doesnt know they're the coyote in the legend, just that they're magical to some extent

they do pull little jokes occasionally but tbf theyre a god so i think they deserve to be silly with it

they're very loyal and loud and incredible with directions, and they like to help steer Beetle around, even if he doesn't like it all the time.

just made them recently so theres not a lot yet but i will develop them more!! they're very special to me

Here's them and (bunny) beetle along with nebula, their cat pal who failed familiar training

[consolecadet]

big complaining. please do not give me advice on any of this unless 1) we already talk AND 2) you get my consent first

Virtually everything for me right now is in some state of "it is terrible rn but I just need to hold on for a few more weeks/months" and it just. I don't have a lot of grip strength with which to hold on rn.

My tennis elbow hurts more since I started OT, or perhaps I am just more aware of it. Either way it's really bothering me and making me sad

I recently developed eczema or something like that, because of course I did, and the second I stopped steroid cream it came back just as itchy and weepy, despite aggressive moisturizing. I cannot see a dermatologist until November but I have vague hope in the form of a different steroid cream I may try in one week

The three-day low-residue diet my dietician had me try backfired horribly after I stopped it and now I'm even more scared to eat, like, beans and/or onions

I have been having trouble accessing medical supplies that I can technically get by without but really shouldn't. Dealing with it requires making tons of phone calls and/or driving to a bunch of different pharmacies, something I have no time or energy to do rn

I'm in a BMW situation and cannot resume trying to sell it until it is resolved, though it's not a big deal because I am borrowing my sister's car and will buy it from her once I have sold the BMW

Reviewing KC's edits to Latent Defects is tiring and emotionally challenging (though I'm way less upset and dramatic about it than I thought it would be)

I keep spiraling about things like the election, genocide, and the climate

Covid cases have once again risen in my area and I am nervous about that because I've socialized a lot IRL recently and don't know if I was careful enough

I agreed to do an art project with a friend that I think will be really cool, but am worried will hurt my forearm too much and/or cause extra stress which I have little capacity for rn

I am having trouble keeping in touch with friends bc the first thing to go when I get stressed is The Ability to Message People. I also have a newish local friend who messages me a lot more than I am used to and I'm worried I'm making him feel sad and uncared for bc I am so slow to respond and don't message him first very often

KC's summer break is about to end, which means I am about to start having to get up earlier, which realistically means I am going to lose a lot of sleep while I once again struggle to adjust. Also means I'm gonna spend a lot more time driving again

The project I am managing is a MESS, we pushed the launch back, and I feel like it's my fault for 1) not knowing how to manage a project, 2) not asking for nearly enough help, and 3) being kind of mentally absent due to being itchy, in pain, and very cranky for basically the whole project. Though tbf multiple of my coworkers have been sick for chunks of it and also not able to pitch in as much as we expected. Also once we launch, then I have to help manage an online community, which, yikes

I would like a raise to offset the gigantic medical bills I seem to get stuck with every year, but I also fucked up something else at work recently, the one account I managed fired us, and worse yet I absolutely know that the company I work for is barely scraping by and cannot afford to give me a raise regardless of whether my boss wants to. I should probably look for another job but 1) I like these people 2) I have no energy or time rn and 3) much fewer companies are fully remote these days and I cannot physically handle commuting and working in an office

yeah

[agenericplaceholdername]

Dragons Rising E11-15 Thoughts

Here’s some thoughts on each episode in the first half of Dragons Rising, Season 1 Part 2:

The Temple of the Dragon Cores:

The Merge music starts playing before the MergeQuake starts 

This does kinda make me wonder how many people in Ninjago have interacted directly with the Ninja

Commented last time on the other empty holes in the portal gate room, but I guess those are just used for dragon stables

“My bathroom is everywhere” tbf with all the dragons there Wyldfyre probably isn’t making things that much worse

Lloyd was fixing the monastery from where the bounty hit it in E4

Zane: “The world is gonna end” Lloyd: “yeah I knew that, can I get back to my plants?”

“among us”

LaRow wait- what were you about to say about Lord Ras?

On one hand, Zane is really unintelligent in this scene. On the other hand, it’s nice to see the other Ninja just lounging around

Arin how did you know there were 3 dragon cores

RAPTON

This is such a strange resolution of this scene

Correct use of precision over accuracy

Did the FSM actually create the other realms? or just the landmasses like he did with Ninjago

“It never came up” is prob true and also such a funny way to address that you’re actually the grandson of God

“And the Wyldness” isn’t that a whole realm? Imagine if the Spirit said one of the cores is “in Ninjago”— how would they know where?

Frohicky!

Gangs of the Sea:

The first hint at a Rapton defection?

Arin volunteering to be with Lloyd immediately :)

Nya faces the problem of any teacher who has two people in their class with the same name

Naps are awesome Kai

It’s interesting that Lloyd frames Arin’s inability to do Spinjitzu as something holding him back, since that usually seems reserved for True Potentials, while Spinjitzu is just doing certain body movements

Is this training music new? It’s good

Ninjago has *never* done this trope before (except when they did)

Have any non-human characters had glasses in Ninjago (Glutinous had a monocle, but idk anyone else)

Lloyd is just trolling this guy lol

So the crab used mind control though the crown to control the Merlopian leader. But how did it control the rest of the Merlopians?

The crab’s tooth being planted is a leap in logic but I’ll take it to be true (meaning some mystery that’ll be resolved later)

Even when small that crab looks evil

And we go right into the next episode

Wyldly Inappropriate:

So were these guys in the Underworld the whole time, but some other kingdom or something?

I wonder if this recipe differs from the one Frohicky makes for Lloyd later

PIXAL :(

“That’s the second fastest I’ve ever seen someone grow a mustache” lol

Zane went into the Crossroads with the intent to purchase something and brought no money?

So they can’t say “We should kill you” (outside of that one Nya line which is meant as a joke) but “We should eviscerate you” is fine?

Did Nya run into the Lava-Tides before she started working with the Craglings?

I love the scroll of grievances

THE Chancellor Gulch? Absolutely crazy that he was the first side character to return in DR

All the mucoids have hyphens in their names (Grab-Barg, Tope-Epot, Zant-Tanz)

Moral about bullying (similar to what S1 of the original show would do)

Good development for Wyldfyre

There’s a Never-Realm samurai in the crowd. What does he think about Zane

“I’ll let everyone know what happened to you. Maybe someone will be sad.” Great line but not only is it funny but in the context of what happens in S2…

I’d like Zane’s tax filing toaster

Yet another Lobbo win

Is this meta-commentary on how Zane has been written? Or just incidentally responding to criticism in recent years

Good to see Kai and Wyldfyre working together

And now into the next episode

The Last Djinn:

Poor Zane

Both Frohicky and Lobbo have problems with their moms

“Anything that isn’t alive” ok so that’s just there so that they can’t use the seeker stones to find the missing characters right lol

“Not all Spinjitzu lessons are about fighting” this is a callback to Can of Worms, so a deep cut

So in just 7 years, Frohicky could clean the monastery with a toothbrush

No, Nya doesn’t know that her destruction of the Cursed Realm resulted in Djinjago’s destruction

“Why am I not Sora One?”

So I know the Howlers aren’t ghosts (they don’t seem dead or alive) but they do remind me of Bansha

Nya immediately gets in front of Sora to protect her from Arrakore

A “special energy” about Riyu? Why don’t you elaborate, Arrakore?

Arrakore’s lower body looks like cotton candy

“The Howlers will hunt you to the ends of the known realms and beyond” I assume this is a figure of speech but it would be wild if the Howlers could follow someone into and out of Nether-Space, for example

Nya’s eyebrow raise lol. “No comment.”

“No one is ever powerless!” It’s true but also funny that Nya says stuff like this as if her arc in Crystalized made sense and actually proved this (obv it’s clear that the writers thought it did)

Great scene - the Sora development, the music, “Your wish is yours to keep”

Good lesson from Zane

Having a Djinn on your side is pretty overpowered, so they’re clearly trying to limit Arrakore’s abilities

Easily the best of the 5 episodes covered today, although E13 is solid too and none are outright bad

They Call it Doom:

Kai head jumpscare

Dorama’s Imperium guards have top hats lol

Kai how’d you fall for that

Could a wish like this help locate PIXAl or Jay?

The pie stuff is great bc it comes from Arin’s VA, Deven Mack

“Acting general” why is Zant-Tanz only an acting general? Was there another general before who had to be replaced? What’s the policy on Mucoid Warrior promotions? 

Not the doom mucus! This episode does everything it can to replace “death,” “die,” and “kill” with “doom” and “destroy” … even though Ninjago has used those words before?

“Teams are for people too weak to work alone” let’s see if Wyldfyre still has this anti-Kai, anti-team mindset by the end of S1

Dorama flying with his staff is incredible

When did Rapton try to “stomp [the Ninja] into oblivion”? Lloyd isn’t talking about the Photacs since that’s what Arin brings up next

“Be destroyed. Obliterated. Pass away. Cease to be among the living—” okay maybe it’s a little funny but cmon

“ All life is important.” “But that’s Rapton.”

Hey Dorama is a union man!

So when did Dorama switch the cores?

Zant-Tanz and Arin’s dialogue is great

Couldn’t a Mucoid just wear high quality shoes and be fine?

Rapton I know you help the Ninja later but you also really suck

The Administration is super cool here

Sora and Nya — you do understand why children would run away from two older people carrying weapons right?

COLE! yeah Nya and him could have recognized each other faster but whatever

This is an okay batch of episodes - it’s good to see various new locations, but it does feel very fetch quest-y

Next up, the finale of Dragons Rising Season 1!

[coldresolve]

shit this is kind of random but ur genuinely one of my fav authors ever and seeing u liking my posts is always such a like. delight 😭😭 hope this isn’t particularly narcissistic and i know it doesn’t mean very much to u but when i randomly opened tumblr today at 12:40 am and saw u liked my post relatively recently i got super excited hahahaha

anyways i’ve been really busy for the past few months and haven’t been able to catch up with mm except every now and then but i’m so glad to see the story get more developed and more people finding it because fuck i still remember stumbling upon the 1st chapter and reading that fake blonde line and reading each chapter over and over when there was only a handful of them out and making art of renee because i couldn’t get him out of my head and not knowing if the story would continue since the updates were relatively erratic but they did!! and i’m so glad they did and idek what i wanted to say except that i hope you know what a fantastic writer and artist you are and that, as someone who’s been following u since you were in the whump community, ur work has gained so much more depth and ur art even more storytelling?? ish?? over the past year or two or three and that i’m really proud of u in some weird parasocial way idk 😭😭

AAA this is so nice tysm!

yea i was scrolling thru the mm fanart tag n stumbled on a couple ppl i havent seen in a while like. oh i wonder if theyre still around etc. its good to see you are :>> i hope things settle for ya soon man

the updates are still erratic lmaO but we're in the Endgame so im giving myself a long leash for quality tbf. also have an hrt special brewing, some new art, stuff like that :)

[sepublic]

I'm pretty disappointed that the other stages of the Metroid lifecycle aren't as well known and abundant as the larval form; Everybody thinks of that when they think of a Metroid, but most people don't even know about the Queen and all of the other stages leading up to that! And it's a shame because they're such cool designs and really sell the Metroid as an intergalactic threat to me.

And it's weird, because I'm not sure why they never caught on? We had the first Metroid game on the NES, which only had the larval stage. But then the second, Return of Samus, introduces the full lifecycle. But then in Super Metroid, there aren't the other Metroid stages, for some reason; It's like the developers just kinda ignored that?

I guess it's because with the Infant, they still wanted it to be recognizable when you reunite with it later in the game. But we see other Metroids cloned from it in that game, so why not have those evolve, and use them as a way to bring the Alpha-onwards stages (except the Queen) into the SNES' graphics?

Next we have Fusion, which actually does show the other Metroid stages... But most of them are just static and in the background, contained in vats. But we do get an Omega Metroid as the final boss, plus Adam mentioning the Federation's success in creating Metroids that can speedrun its lifecycle.

Conversely, we have Metroid Prime, which doesn't have any of the other Metroid stages, but does have Phazon mutations in the Hunter Metroid, and then of course the titular Metroid Prime. Next came Echoes, which only had regular Metroids, and then Ing-possessed Dark Metroids. Finally, we have Corruption, which leans into a Phazon lifecycle for the Metroids, but nothing of the natural one from SR388. This would not be brought back until, of all things, Other M giving us the Queen Metroid.

And from a Super Smash Bros. perspective, since that's where a lot of people are first exposed to Metroid (myself included), we only see the larvae represented... I think the other stages, as well as the Phazon mutations, are also represented in trophies, stickers, and spirits. But you can see how people gloss over that in favor of the more obvious assist trophies.

This could be its own separate question, why Sakurai doesn't give the other Metroid stages more of a role, but the man is so swamped with Smash in general that I won't blame him. From another standpoint, it seems the Metroid lifecycle is also so unheard of because for a long while, it was mainly shown off in Return of Samus, a black-and-white game with some clunky controls, which could've dissuaded more casual fans compared to the more iconic, colorful, NES Metroid and Super Metroid.

Recently, we have gotten Samus Returns, which did help to reintroduce the Metroid lifecycle back into the limelight. Dread didn't do much to help, but tbf no actual Metroids show up in the game, just in the intro; Where we do see the other stages! But otherwise the only Metroid is Samus herself.

What also intrigues me is that when drafting ideas for Prime's sequel, there WAS art for an Omega Metroid... But that never followed through into Echoes, obviously. But why not? Since the Prime series takes place before Metroid II, did Retro Studies not want to 'spoil the twist' from Samus' perspective of seeing the full lifecycle on SR388? In addition to wanting to show off their own Phazon mutations; Metroid Prime Essence feels as if some developer was disappointed the Metroid lifecycle didn't focus on the deep sea jellyfish aspect of the creature when it evolve, and so their 'alternate' lifecycle was a response to that.

Did Super's developers decide there wasn't enough room to fit in the other Metroid lifecycles? Fusion does imply a rule about Metroids needing SR388's environment to undergo metamorphosis, which does retroactively explain why the stages weren't present in the first game. But tbf, the NES manual seems to imply that the Space Pirates just started breeding Metroids by the time you arrive, so there wasn't enough time for them to grow.

I'm just wondering what happened; If it really is as simple as how Sakurai chose to represent the creatures in Smash, which may have been influenced by NES Metroid and Super being the more popular of the series, with Return of Samus feeling like a black sheep until we got Other M. It feels like the galaxy-ending threat of the Metroids would've been emphasized more if these rapidly-reproducing jellyfish could then each grow into a giant vampiric dinosaur.