#it’s not about everyone deliberately making his life worse. At least not to me

[j2zara]

And what if I said Jace’s neglect and Porter’s control of J2 were two sides of the same coin and born of the same rot. What then

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

A good grade.

Pairing: Perv Art Professor!Joel x afab!reader Words count: 4844 Rating: +18, MDNI Summary: You always thought you would have a future in the art world, until you met Mr. Miller, your professor who decided to make your life hell. What are you willing to do for a good grade? Tags: perv!Joel, soft!Joel, power imbalance, degradation, smut, blackmail, reader is described having female genitalia, no other description of her is given, unspecified age gap (in my mind 24/45 but you can imagine whatever, they’re both grown up anyway), unprotected p in v (reader is on the pill but you know, do better irl), oral (f receiving), mention of blowjob, edging, edging with a brush, creampie, pet names, slurs, Joel has a dirty mouth, a lot of swearing, some reader's thoughts marked in italics.

Disclaimers: English is not my first language, very poorly proofread, no beta, it's all my fault and I'm very sorry! I like art but I'm not an expert, I've never taken lessons (well, in high school I did but it was art history and it was only theoretical) and I don't really know how they work, I made it all up so if it doesn't adhere to reality please excuse me. I hope you like it anyway, the other morning I woke up with the idea of ​​Joel painting me as one of his French girls (heheheheh) and I started writing this thing 💀

If anyone wants to be added or removed from the taglist, please let me know. Thanks to anyone who reads, I hope you like it ♥️

You’ve always loved art, since high school it’s always been your favorite subject and drawing and painting your outlet, your way of expressing yourself. Your teachers have always praised you, considering your works not only perfectly executed but significant, mature, full of pathos. Everyone has always told you that you had an eye for recognizing artistic value, you’ve always been the best in your class and you’ve worked hard to get here.

You graduated with excellent grades and were accepted into a prestigious master's program. You would like to become a professional artist or at least an art critic.

You had a bright future ahead of you, until you met Professor Joel Miller.

He has done nothing but criticize you, your skills and your work from the very first day. 

And he always does it deliberately, in front of everyone else. No matter how hard you try, you never get more than F for every work you submit. The disdain with which he treats you makes you feel like a failure and your breath die in your throat every time he lays eyes on you and says the most hateful words you’ve ever heard about yourself. Today it happened again. You spent sleepless nights working on this portrait, begging the model called by Professor Miller to see you after class hours. You even offered to pay her and she was kind, she didn’t ask for an outrageous amount despite the fact that she could have taken much more lucrative jobs instead of posing for you. You’re just a master’s student trying to support herself by working nights in a bar. 

“What is this?” he thundered looking at your painting “You are only getting worse, miss, I have never seen anything like this. It is indecent that a person like you tries to make art, it should be prohibited by law. Look at this, wrong proportions, no harmony, no attention to detail, nothing. This does not even look like the same person I had pose for hours in front of you. You should be ashamed to present a work like this after 6 months of course” 

You won't be able to finish your master's degree unless you get a passing grade in Professor Miller's course, but he doesn't seem at all inclined to give you even a measly D.

It’s a nightmare.

You'd be forced to start all over again, ask your parents for financial help, which is the last thing you want to do when they've already sacrificed so much to help you pay for college, or do the unthinkable and give up on all your dreams, the career you have cultivated with strength and passion throughout your life up until now.

You decide to make a last-ditch effort and try to talk to Mr Miller during his office hours.

You've always avoided it until now because you thought things would get better but it's the third F you get and you can't afford to go on like this. 

The idea of ​​being alone with him doesn't excite you at all, but you hate losing everything you've worked so hard for even more.

You take a deep breath before knocking on the door, terrified of what he might say to you.

Mr Miller is also an established artist and his work has been appreciated abroad so his disapproval could really preclude you from many opportunities. 

“Come in” even from behind closed door his voice sends shivers down your spine.

You walk in muttering “good afternoon” feeling like a complete idiot, you are already convinced that it was a mistake to come to him, nothing will change his mind. 

Joel is sitting behind his desk, frowning as he corrects tests. He looks up from the papers only when you are in front of him “Oh. it's you,” he says in his usual dismissive tone of voice “What do you want miss?” 

You clear your throat and murmur, “I...” his gaze is already back on the tests, he doesn't even look at your face as he fills the paper with red marks and writes a big circled F at the top, the assignment of some other hapless person like you who will find himself failing his class. Incredible anger mounts in your body, you clench your fists and say "excuse me" in a stern voice. 

It infuriates you, it's maddening how he can't even treat you as a human being for a second. 

"What do you want?" he asks annoyed looking back up at you "and be quick about it, you are wasting my time." 

“I'd like to know what I need to do to have you evaluate me favorably” you try to keep your tone as detached and respectful as possible even though you despise the man in front of you with every fiber of your body. 

“Nothing, you can't do anything, I thought you had figured it out by now, are you also stupid besides not having the slightest talent?”

“Actually...fuck, I don't think I am that bad. And I think you are judging me too harshly,” you spit out feeling tears stinging your eyes. You promised yourself to keep calm but the way he is treating you only makes you want to insult him.

“I advise you to moderate your tone if you don't want to be expelled as well as failed in my class.”

He has the upper hand, you can't do anything about it. A sense of frustration and helplessness crackles under your skin as you plead with him, “Please Mr Miller there must be something I can do to change things. Anything...I…I don't want to fail.” 

An evil grin paints on his face “how much do you care about it?” 

“It's the only thing I care about, please, art means everything to me” you look at him feeling your whole essence crumble in front of him, you are desperate and tired of struggling, you just want to find a way to work things out. You have very good grades in all the other courses, he is the only one stopping you from achieving what you want most in the world.

“Actually you could do something to make it better,” Joel suggests, and you cry, ”Please, I'll do anything.” 

“Anything?” he probes ”are you sure?” His smug, dangerous expression unnerves you, maybe you shouldn't have made yourself so vulnerable in front of him, but there's no turning back now. "Yes," you shriek.

He leans against the back of the chair while continuing to sneer under his mustache “Well, then I have an offer for you. I'm working on a series of paintings of women, you could pose for me.” 

“Me?” you ask confused, the last thing you expected was for him to ask you to paint you.  

“Why not, if nothing else you're pretty,” he admits, and it's the first nice thing about you that's ever come out of his mouth. 

You wonder what the scam is behind his proposal, it can't be that easy, he's probably going to ask you to pose with some repulsive animal or in a way that makes you look completely idiotic or he's just pretending that this is the solution but then he's going to blackmail you and make you regret setting foot in his office.

He writes something on a post-it note and hands it to you “Meet me at this address tomorrow night at 8” he orders you “don't be late” 

“I really...” you try to say. 

“What? Is there something more urgent you need to do besides securing good grades?” he raises an eyebrow scrutinizing your astonished face. 

“No it's just that...I'm supposed to be working at that time.” You mutter.

“Well get your shift changed, or ask someone to fill in for you, pretend to be sick, I don't care, just show up.” He barks at you. 

“Okay,” you agree. You can't say no, it's your last resort, either that or total defeat. 

You walk out of his office with the feeling that you have gotten into big trouble. 

_____________________________

You get confirmation of this the next day when you show up at the address written by Professor Joel. It's on a suburban street with little traffic, in front of you is what looks like an abandoned former factory. A blast of cold air makes you shiver as you ring an old intercom near the front door. You huddle in your coat, wondering where the hell you are. Maybe he gave you the wrong address just to make fun of you, you took two buses to get here, at the very least you'll soon find out your professor isn't even here. 

Surprisingly, he answers you instead, his thick voice ordering you to come up. You enter through the doorway into a dusty, bare lobby, only an old freight elevator in front of you. You push the button and the elevator car begins to descend with a sinister, metallic sound. "What the hell is this place?” you ask yourself "my god, I'm going to end up dead and thrown in a dumpster". You get on the elevator with your heart in your throat praying that there isn't a serial killer waiting for you on the other side. 

The doors suddenly open wide onto a large room with concrete columns. You step out and look around, there is a large table in the corner, chock full of artists' materials, tempera, canvases, oil paints, watercolors, all thrown in bulk. Various canvases are resting on pedestals scattered around the room, and others lie leaning against the wall. There is an old leather couch in the corner and a double mattress resting on wooden pallets on the other side. Several rugs are spread on the floor. It's all messy and chaotic, but it definitely has the look of an art studio. 

"Oh, you're here at last," Joel grunts, popping up from behind a pillar holding a dirty brush stained with red tempera. 

He is wearing a pair of frayed jeans and a white T-shirt stained in paint, he is disheveled and barefoot. 

He doesn't even look like your professor; he always wears suits and perfectly ironed shirts at university. 

Two large leaded windows divided into small squares open on the wall in front of you. 

It’s dark by now, so the entire room is softly lit by several lamps and candles scattered around. 

“Where should I stand to pose?” you don't intend to put in more than is necessary; spending time with this obnoxious man is the last thing you want to do today. 

“Sit on the couch,” Joel orders, pointing to the old leather ruin to your right, ”I'll prepare the necessities and we'll get started.” 

You sit, quietly, dreading what lies ahead. 

Joel picks up a blank canvas and places it on a stand, takes a graphite pencil from the table and orders you " Undress" 

You squint your eyes, squeaking “I'm sorry, what?”

“I'm making a series of artistic nudes, didn't I tell you?” he grins 

“No, you don’t” you retort. 

Fucking bastard. 

“Strip” he repeats firmly. 

“But I don't-”

“Look, you're already irritating me, either take off your fucking clothes or get out of here” 

You've seen people pose nude in your art classes before, even in Professor Joel's class, and all you've ever cared about was doing a good job, but now it's different. It's just you and him, in a place in the middle of nowhere, you weren't warned before, and more importantly, he makes you uncomfortable. 

His gaze has done nothing but judge you from the first moment it landed on you. You don't want to lose that last bit of dignity you still preserve and let him see you in your most intimate form. 

“So what have you decided?” Joel presses you. 

With extreme reluctance, you begin to take off your coat, laying it on the couch. What else can you do? By now you have fallen into a trap, either you do this or your grade at the end of the course will be F. 

F for failure.

“Damn asshole,” you think, ”I hope I never see you again in my life after your fucking course is over.” 

The resentment must be clear on your face because Joel mocks you “Oh come on, don't pout like that. There's nothing underneath that I haven't seen a hundred times before. It's just tits and a cunt” he concludes in a dismissive tone, crossing his arms over his chest impatiently.

He rolls his eyes when after some hesitation you slip off the T-shirt you are wearing, revealing a light pink lace bra. 

He curls his lips "cute," he whispers in a lascivious tone " take that off too." 

“But Mr Miller I...” you try to retort

“Go ahead and take it off,” your arms reach for your back, you undo the hooks of your bra and drop it to the floor. You cannot believe this is happening, you are bare-chested in front of your professor. 

"Very well..." he acquiesces, "you see, everything is easier when you cooperate." 

He strokes his beard as he glances at you remove your shoes and pulling down your jeans, the same smug, dangerous smile he had in his office returns to peep across his face.

“Good girl.” 

You feel a knot in your stomach. And you who thought that commitment and talent were enough to get results...poor naive girl. 

You should get out of here and go to the dean and report him for unethical conduct but you suddenly realize that he may be the first, but he won't be the last. 

"Lie down on the couch," Joel whispers to you, his gaze not leaving your body, hungry and demanding. 

You don't want to be here, yet you feel you can't do anything else at this point. 

"Raise your right arm above your head," Joel instructs, "and bend your legs slightly." 

“Like this. Don't move," Joel stands in front of the canvas and begins to trace marks on the surface. His hand moves quickly, his fingers run over the traced lines smudging them. 

You remain still as he ordered you, feeling goosebumps across your body and your nipples harden from the cold. 

You have to admit to yourself that it is fascinating to watch him work; his gaze is alert and sure, his hands move expertly and competently. He is certainly talented. 

Joel observes the work done so far, scratching his chin, adding a few touches here and there as his eyes scan the entire surface of the canvas.

Maybe he really just wants to paint you and you're making a big deal out of nothing, maybe this will end well after all. He moves the easel to one side of the sofa you assume to look at you from another angle until he growls “Spread your legs for me, darling” 

“But I don't-”

“I need more shadows on your  body”

“What?” you glance at him, this sounds like a lame excuse. 

“Spread your legs” he repeats ”come on” 

You do so, feeling his eyes everywhere on you, feeding on every uncovered inch of your skin. And for some reason you cannot explain, you feel your body react under his gaze. You peak at the outline of his cock straining under his jeans, a rush of adrenaline rushes through you, a flush of arousal between your legs. 

No, you can't. 

You cannot crave for him to look at you. He's your professor who lured you here under false pretenses. 

Yet you realize how incredibly handsome he is. So far you had only thought of him as your teacher and had never truly paused to observe him, especially since he always treated you like a dirtbag. 

“Perfect, now stay still like this,” he mutters.

He hums as you do “Such a good girl for me” in a mellifluous and manipulative tone.

You feel his voice penetrate deep into your bones and another thrill of arousal runs through you all, gliding under your skin and straight to your pussy. 

This is so fucked up but on the other hand you are thrilled by the idea of ​​ending up in one of his paintings.

He makes a couple of changes to the sketch and then walks over to you, sitting on the armrest of the couch. He watches you intently, as if he wants to study every tiny detail about you, you still have your panties on but you've never felt more naked than that.

“Hmm, someone is wet.” he observes, gazing at the wet spot on your underwear. “It’s all for me?”

“I…uh…no, absolutely not” You don't want to admit it even to yourself but the situation is turning you on, no matter how wrong it is. 

“Honey, I advise you never to play poker,” he sneers. You look at him puzzled, and he adds, “You're not good at bluffing at all.”

When he reaches out a hand to touch you, you almost tremble, it's as if your body is crying out to him “take me. use me.”

All you ever wanted from the beginning was his approval and now somehow he seems to recognize something in you. You just want to stop arguing, to stop fighting, to stop feeling like you are worth less than nothing, you just want to know that you still have a future that consists of not settling for a job that you don't love and doesn't allow you to feel fulfilled and let you get the results you know you deserve. 

And most of all, you want him to be on your side.

“You're such a pretty little thing, you know that?” his voice gruels as his fingers run from your ankle to your knee and then up to your inner thigh. You stiff, feeling your heart raging up under your ribcage and a fresh flush of arousal dampening your cunt.

How did you never realize how sexy this man is? Now that his gaze has softened you notice the deep brown of his eyes, with some hazel undertones, and how he lights up as he stares at you. 

God, you want him so bad right now. 

You are almost on the verge of grabbing his wrist and placing his big hand on your pussy already, but you decide to let him. 

His fingers move slowly over your skin; instead of touching you where you need it most, his hand stops at your hip, fiddling with the hem of your panties. 

"Can I?" he grunts. 

You nod silently and he demands “I need you to use your words, baby. Speak to me”

“Yes” you breath 

He grins as he places his other hand on your hip and begins to pull down your panties. You lift your pelvis to ease him, and he comments, "mmm, so eager. You’re such a slut, aren’t you?”

You feel your cheeks on fire as you cannot take your eyes off him, desperately in need of his hands, his lips, his tongue and his cock. You want it all, right now. So maybe he’s right, you’re a slut and you don’t even care. 

Joel calmly moves your panties down your legs and brings them to his nose, inhaling your scent. “Sweet. I bet you taste even better.”

He gets up from the couch, tucking your panties into his jeans pocket, and takes a clean brush from a container resting on the table. He sits back right next to you, and grins. 

He caresses the inside of your leg with the brush, the feeling of the bristles flowing over your skin is incredible, soft and intense at the same time, leisurely moving on your inner thigh, raising up closer and closer to your pussy, his eyes set in yours, mesmerized by you.

You are subjugated by him as he fondles you, going up your belly with his brush, deliberately ignoring your pussy, moving deftly over every curve of your body. It is as if he is painting you, as if he has made you his work of art.

The bristles rub over your rib cage, slowly, then your breasts, moving in concentric circles from your areola to your nipples. He passes the brush back and forth over your hard buds and a deep moan escapes from your throat. “Please, Mr Miller” you whine. 

“You can call me Joel, darling” he whispers “what do you need?” 

“I…fuck” You’re dripping wet, your voice is a wail and your body is itching to be touched. 

“Say it.” he orders you, ”I want to hear it.”

“I want - fuck - my pussy” you blather, you are not even able to form a complete sentence right now.

Joel laughs faintly, descending again on your abdomen, very slowly, until he reaches your mound. He rubs the bristles from right to left lingeringly, then lowering again, descending on your outer lips, first one side and then the other. And then again and again. 

When he finally brushes over your clit, you are so pent up and needy that you arch your back, emitting a throaty moan. 

“Oh God! Oh my God”

Joel lowers the brush to your clit, surrounding it with the bristles, pushing and making concentric circles. He stops when he feels you on the edge. 

And then he does it all again, circling and pressing, jerking your bundle of nerves with the brush. And then a third time. 

You’re a crying mess at this point, mind completely numb and your body covered in sweat.

He spreads your folds with his thumbs and sighs, “Look at this pussy, all nice and wet for me, I can’t wait to dip into your sweet honey, babe”

He throws the brush on the floor, it falls with a dull thud bouncing on the carpet. 

“So fucking perfect” 

You squeeze your eyes whining “please" a riot of emotions assail you, your body is so on the edge you could explode just by the way he looks at you, moistening his lips with his tongue.

He puts his arms around your neck, “cling to me,” he whispers. You do as he says, instinctively encircling his waist with your legs, clinging to his body with all your strength as he carries you to the bed and lays you gently on top.

He undresses, staying in his boxers in front of you. 

You can't take your eyes off him, gazing at his wide shoulders, his broad chest, his soft belly with a thin strip of hair running down into his boxers. 

He kneels on the bed, facing you, gently spreading your legs and moving between them. 

He lowers himself on you, placing a kiss on your clit, making you whimper another pathetic "please." 

He sticks his tongue out and runs it flat across your folds, up and down, one hand firmly clinging to your hip, his fingers digging into your skin. 

"I was right, you taste amazing," he murmurs against your skin. 

You are no longer thinking about anything right now, not about your master's degree, evaluations or the fact that he is your teacher. 

You feel his nose hitting on your clit as he eagerly licks your folds, opening them with two fingers to sink his tongue in. 

You bite your lower lip, stifling your moans, burying a hand in his dark curls, pulling him toward you “oh fuck, yes”.

His tongue encircles your hard clit, swirling around, his lips lace over it sucking greedily.

“You don’t need to hold back, you can be as loud as you want in here, no one will hear us. Let me hear you, baby. I wanna know how you sound when you come” 

He doesn't stop sucking and licking until you feel your orgasm mount inside you like a flooding river, invading your body, curving your toes, clenching your fists on the sheet beneath you and rolling your hips on his face, wetting his lips, his chin, dripping onto your inner thigh. 

“Yeah, baby, come apart on my tongue, just like that”

He licks you clean until you calm down, devouring your juices to the last drop and then looks up at you “you have no idea how beautiful you are, starving for my cock” he groans “god, I must have you right now, I must make you mine, you hungry little whore”

You wait for nothing else, it seems your thirst has no way to quench today.

“Please, Joel,”

He pulls off his boxers, throwing them on the floor, his cock springs free and is incredibly hard, you can't stop looking at it. He's big, so big you don't even know how he's going to fit all the way inside you but you don’t care. “Fill me up, Joel, please”

“Yeah? You want this big cock inside you? Want me to fill you up so good baby?” He grumbles.

“Please, Joel, it’s all I need” you whine. 

He lies on top of you, tapping your lips a few times with the tip, running it along your folds and wetting it with your juices, aligning himself with your opening, “I'll give you what you want, then.”

He nudges at your hole a moment before he enters you, just the tip, pressing gently to let you get used to your intrusion. 

You moan feverishly, clinging to his back, bucking your hips toward him “more, please, more” you plea. 

As he plunges inside you, he stares at your face, as if he doesn’t want to miss a single second of your reactions, when he’s ball deep into you you let out an incoherent whine so graveling it doesn’t even sounds like your voice. 

He begins to pump into you as you circle his waist with your legs again, pushing to feel him deeper, your hands roaming in his graying hair. 

“Here you go, taking me so well princess, you’re so good to me” 

When his lips settle on yours you realize that you had not yet kissed until this moment. His lips are soft, demanding, his tongue penetrates your mouth licking eagerly, and you are more than happy to respond, savoring his taste of mint and cigarettes. 

One of his hands kneads your breast, his fingers close on one of your nipples as his cock doesn't stop sinking inside you.

You moan into his mouth feeling like you are on the edge of a cliff, ready to fall into the sinful pit of hell. 

“Where do you want me?” he whispers in your ear, and your voice comes out broken from the back of your throat  ”Inside. please. I'm - fuck - I'm on the pill.” 

You feel him spilling his load inside you a moment later, painting your inner wall with his hot sticky cum. 

You feel delirious and exhausted, guilty for what you just did. Your moral code has just been shattered under the hot weight of his body.

He kisses you again, lingering on your bottom lip. “You’re so much better than I thought,” he chuckles. 

He moves away from you and stands up naked to return to the sketch. He traces a few lines and makes some adjustments as you stare at him in amazement.

“Can you show me?” you ask. “Yes, come here,” he replies. You get up and stand next to him to observe the canvas. Your body is sketched on it and it looks perfect, you have never seen yourself so beautiful.

“You can go if you want, I’m done for today” 

“I- I don’t want to”

“Do you want more?” he sneers “god, you really are a slut.” he comments as he gets closer to you. 

He fucks you two more times, the first time he makes you get on all fours, licking your pussy from behind and then sinking into you while he holds you by the hips, his cock slamming against your cervix and his balls against your ass. Then you’re too eager to have him in your mouth, to taste your flavor mixed with his, so you offer to give him a blowjob and he fucks your mouth before digging back into your pussy again.

He drives you back to campus. “I may be an asshole, but I won’t let you walk around alone at night,” he says. 

You get out of his car feeling like you’re in a bubble, like everything that happened was just a surreal dream you can’t wake up from. You collapse into your bed after throwing your clothes haphazardly on the floor. When you wake up the next morning you feel like shit. 

You don't know how boldly you will look your classmates in the eye, but you can't skip class, and the thought of seeing Joel again thrills you, no matter how wrong it is. 

When Joel enters the classroom, he ignores you, probably so as not to arouse suspicion; it would be too strange for him to treat you with regard after denigrating you for months.

He begins returning graded tests proceedings slowly as usual, moving between desks and laying down the papers without making any comment. The test that rests on your desk has a circled A at the top.

Tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter @lemon-nomel @almostempty @thundermartini @harriedandharassed @pedrostories

[scififettuccine]

A Wild Fix: Part 2

Pairing: Frenchie x Reader

Summary: The day of the dreaded Supe Convention is finally here. After being paired with Frenchie for your part of the mission, you run into some unexpected conspiracies with some unexpected people.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Homelander, mentions of suicide, mentions of suffocation, Supes being Supes, not proofread (they never are)

Notes: Omg guys look at me being fancy and trendy and cool with the photo header >:)....(Please don't make fun of me I'm a writer not an editor, I tried my best okay?) Anyway here's part 2! Finally posting it after a lot of deliberation, but I hope it was worth the wait! Lots of description in this one, I'm proud of myself 💪 Here's Part 1.5 if you missed it. Big plans for part three, enjoy <3

The day of the Supe convention approached fairly quickly. You would be lying if you said that you hadn't been losing sleep over it. The whole situation was sort of a tightrope walk. If you went to the convention with The Boys, it was bound to end badly. Like you had mentioned to Butcher, it was a suicide mission. But if you told Butcher no, there was a possibility of losing the group as a whole. For better or for worse, they had been the only people in your corner since you joined The Seven…the only thing keeping you stable. As much as you hated that basement…it had become more of a home to you than the tower, even with Frenchie’s irritating presence. You had lost a lot of things in life. A lot of important things. You knew, even if you didn't want to admit it, that you were not stable enough to lose anything else. The outcome of the convention, at least in your mind, would be grim regardless of whether you worried or not. But you couldn't risk losing them, not when they were the only thing close to family that you’d had since…well since you could remember. Calling them family seemed stupid, as you’d only known them for about a month and a half. But truthfully? You didn't know what else to call them. No word seemed good enough.

Butcher had informed Annie of the plan, and the three of you had gotten together to discuss how dangerous the whole ordeal was. Butcher, of course, didn’t care. So, like clockwork, when the day arrived, everyone was informed of the base plan, and ready to go. You and Annie had shuttled into the casino turned convention center with the rest of The Seven, as was planned. The ride was tense and awkward, as it usually was when all of you were together. No one except for you and Annie were really friends, but of course Homelander tried to make it seem like you were. Unfortunately, you got the privilege of sitting across from him on the way there. He tried to create conversation, and you played into it, scared of what would happen if you didn’t. You two hadn’t gotten off to a great start, due to the fact that you had talked back, and he had choked the fear of his every movement into you. And ever since Butcher had info dumped about all the things he had done? You were even more careful around him. The conversation was bland small talk, not exactly focused on anything. You were honestly sort of drifting into space until he mentioned something that caught your attention.

“You’re young, right? You like music?” He asked, his sickeningly white smile on full display. You tried your best not to make a face, unsure of where he was going with it.

“I’m 27… and yeah. Yeah, I like music.” You responded, your fingers moving idly to crack your knuckles one by one. Homelander tilted his head ever so slightly before his gaze shot down to your hands. But as quickly as he had looked, he made eye contact with you once again.

“You know that guy, Mixer? He’s performing at the convention. Feisty little thing, I’ve met him on a few occasions. I remember the day he was signed on to the company.” Homelander paused, chuckling. “He was nothing, then. Fresh out of highschool. The kid could barely look me in the eyes…Now he’s dominating the music industry, with shitty pop but…Still dominating. Funny how those things work out, huh?” He asked. You nodded, glancing over at Annie for support. You didn’t have a clue how any of this was relevant, and you honestly didn’t know how to respond. Annie looked back at you and gave an encouraging smile. What a help she is, you thought.

“I met him at this convention a few years ago, right before he joined Residency.” You informed. Homelander audibly scoffed when you mentioned the team.

“Residency? They’re a PR nightmare in the making. It’s such a strange mix of people, too. I never understood where the inspiration came from.” He chuckled.

“Weren't they kinda supposed to mimic Payback to an extent?” You asked, genuinely curious. He waved a dismissive hand.

“Payback was a PR nightmare too. Come on! I mean, one death and the whole team dispands? Where's the strength in that? This is America! Keep fighting until you can't fight anymore. That’s what I always say.” His disgusting, distorted sense of patriotism always made you nauseous. The man was a blatant white supremacist, and saw the country like it was some holy land. The ideals itself weren't the most sickening part…it was the fact that he wholeheartedly believed them., to the point of influencing others to do the same.

“Yeah…Yeah.” You chuckled awkwardly, putting your hand over your heart, and shaking the other fist in the air. “Land of the free.” With that cringeworthy comment, the conversation sort of died off, ironically just in time for you all to head into the convention center. You and Annie had a few things to handle first, but you had already given The Boys their passes, so they could get an early start.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

It was around lunch time when you and Annie met up with the rest of the group. You had decided to grab a bite to eat at one of the restaurants in the casino. Everything was open and being paid for by Vought, which was honestly one of the nicer parts of the convention.

“Oi. Listen up.” Butcher started, cutting through the small talk once he finally finished his food. “I say we split up into groups, yeh? Divide and conquer. There’s an even number of us, which makes it an easy split.” He scanned the group with his eyes. “MM and Annie, you take the arcade floor, all levels.” He pointed to Hughie. “Hughie and meself will take the shopping center…” His eyes fell on you, and he chuckled ever so slightly. You weren't even paying attention, too engrossed in the pasta you were eating. “Oi, marinara face.” He called, trying to get you attention. You instinctively looked up and wiped your face, figuring you were being messy.

“Sorry…” You grumbled.

“You and Frenchie take the theaters. Go sit in on as many presentations as possible, and bring back anything of interest.” You almost groaned when he paired you with Frenchie. There were four other people for fucks sake, and he knew for a fact that you two didn’t get along. You looked over at Frenchie, narrowing your eyes ever so slightly. He didn't look too happy about it, either, rolling his eyes as he pushed his plate away from him. He muttered to himself in French when he stood up. From what you had gathered over hearing it often, it wasn’t the most accurate.

“Right. That settles it. You know your tasks. Meet back here around…” Butcher looks down to his watch. “3:30-4:00 yeh?” Everyone exchanged one last ‘good luck’ before splitting up, leaving you with Frenchie. The two of you stood in awkward silence for a good minute, before you reluctantly broke it. 

“Of course he would task us with sitting through the boring stuff.” You joked weakly, hoping he’d laugh. He did, but it wasn’t genuine, strained too. Neither of you really had a reason to be nice to the other, in all honesty. All you ever did was insult each other. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jackets before speaking. 

“Oui. Let’s get it over with, then?” He asked, finally meeting your gaze. He was glaring daggers at you. That pissed you off. You were trying to be civil, at least long enough to get through the night. But when he looked at you like that? Like he wasn’t even trying? You glared daggers right back at him. The tension between the two was frustrating, partly because you couldn't figure out what type of tension it was.

“Lets.” You responded, your tone unreadable. The sooner this was over, the sooner you could get away from him.

Upon inspection of the schedule that had been sent to you on your phone, the first event happening in the theater on the first floor was a presentation of Vought’s assets, given by one of the higher ups from the company. Not much info would come from that, you figured, but you wouldn't know unless you sat through it. You turned your head in Frenchie’s direction as the two of you walked out of the restaurant and towards the theater.

“The first presentation starts in forty minutes. It's nothing exciting but it wouldn’t hurt to sit in and listen.” As you waited for Frenchie to respond, you realized your inside hand was a little too close to his. You pulled it away ever so slightly and moved to put your hand in your pocket. Frenchie nodded in response, not seeming too interested. You shouldn’t have let that tick you off…but you did.

“Listen dude. If you’re gonna be an asshole all day you can go do something else. I can handle this myself.” You said, your tone sharper than intended. Frenchie scoffed and rolled his eyes, looking over at you.

“I did not say anything!” Frenchie protested. “Did my nodding offend you that much?”

“It was the inflection.” You huffed, rolling your eyes in return.

“Mmm…Oui. The inflection.” He said mockingly. At that point? It was no use fighting with him, so instead of coming up with a witty retort, you looked around the casino. The line outside the door to the theater was already a bit long, and very colorful. Most Supes wore their uniform suits to the convention, so you could pick out almost everyone, at least those who were signed with Vought. Your eyes fell on a few old friends you had gone through the scouting process with, some people you had met at the last convention, and then an extremely familiar color scheme to a certain Supe’s suit that stuck out like a sore thumb. A bright white ensemble that stood out in a sea of colors…one that belonged to the Supe, Laugh Track, one of the Supes you had mentioned to Butcher.

Laugh Track was another member of Residency, one you were not particularly fond of. You had never personally met the guy, but something about him was just…unsettling. He was rather tall, not as tall as Playback, but almost a head above Mixer. Build wise, he was lanky, at least from what you could see. His Supe suit mainly consisted of a white jacket that resembled those worn in asylums on television, almost a straight jacket, but with control of his arms. There was no visible zipper, and the jacket’s collar went all the way up his neck. His mannerisms were always strange, which was sort of on brand for him. His powers were described as “weaponized hysteria.” It was just a fancy way of saying that his contagious laughter made people go absolutely insane, or at least laugh until they turned blue and suffocated. Laugh Track always stood very stiffly, and usually had a very blank expression on his face, his eyes wide and observant. You’d heard him speak in commercials before, and his voice didn't necessarily ease the feeling of dread you felt when you saw him. He had a strange accent, almost British, but not quite. It was very breathy and weirdly persuasive. He wasn’t unattractive by any means. He had neatly kept bleach blonde hair, bright blue eyes, pale skin…Something was just off.

Laugh Track was standing towards the end of the line, eerily still, his hands, which were covered in little bandages, twitching ever so slightly at his sides. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you could only assume that they were darting around the room. You looked over at Frenchie, who was coincidentally already looking in your direction, his mouth slightly open, as if he was about to say something. You shook off the strange feeling that filled your chest and gestured to Laugh Track.

“Do you see the way his hands are twitching?” You asked, purposefully going out of your way to not look directly at Frenchie. Why the hell was he already looking at you? Was he staring or something? Frenchie looked over to the Supe, his eyes narrowing.

“Maybe he has a tremor. Rude to judge him for it, non?” You huffed and looked back to Frenchie, a less than amused expression on your face. You went to go say something else, but your ears perked up when you heard a familiar voice.

“Roman! There you are. I was looking all over for you.” The voice belonged to the man who was arguably the talk of the whole convention, Mixer. Frenchie followed your gaze and looked over at him too. Mixer originally had a Supe suit as well, but ever since he got popular and became more of a poster child than a Supe, he sort of just wore the stylish shit he wore on stage. On that particular day, the outfit consisted of a sleeveless black t-shirt with his logo on it, and ripped black cargo pants with a bunch of adornments hanging off of them. You had to admit, he knew how to dress. The shirt showed off his tattooed arms, and was tight enough that you could see the outline of his chest. After the slight shock of Mixer just appearing in front of you, you added his comment to your mental index. He called Laugh Track “Roman.” That must have been his legal name.

“I haven’t moved since the last time you saw me.” Laugh Track responded, his breathy voice mixed with the accent making you slightly nauseous. Mixer laughed and playfully nudged Laugh Track’s shoulder.

“I figured you would have gone to get a drink or something.” Mixer smirked and nudged his knee with a bottle of Dr Pepper. Laugh Track turned his head towards Mixer, which gave you a moment to catch a glimpse of his smile. It was…unsettling. Disturbing, even, he looked almost manic. But Mixer? He just tilted his head, and smiled sweetly back at him.

“I told you that I wasn’t thirsty.” The taller man let out a chuckle that honestly made you want to walk away. It was so unnerving, yet Mixer didn't seem affected at all. You and Frenchie made eye contact for a moment, before looking back to the two Supes. Frenchie looked just as uncomfortable as you.

“I know you did, but this thing is going to be long. And if we intend to get the info that he wants us to get, you can't be running on nothing.”

You played that sentence back in your head for a moment. The info that he wanted them to get? Who was “He”? And why were other people at this convention also digging for information? Especially people like Mixer. He had it made in the shade, what else would he need to know?

“You are being very loud about this. Hush.” Laugh Track said, taking the bottle of soda from Mixer’s hand. Mixer laughed softly and nodded.

“Right, right. My bad.” Before Laugh Track could respond, the doors to the theater opened, and the line started to move. “Remember, seats closest to the under-stage door on the left side of the theater. He said they should be reserved.” Mixer reminded as the two started walking, their shoulders practically glued together.

“Yes. Under-stage door on the left side of the theater, stage right in perspective of the presenter, reserved seats.” Laugh Track responded. You and Frenchie exchanged a look as the Supe’s in front of you had their lanyard passes scanned, and walked into the theater. As your own passes were scanned, Frenchie leaned over to you.

“Let's follow them and try to sit as close as we can get, oui?” He suggested. You nodded. That actually wasn’t a half bad idea.

“Good idea.” You responded. You could have sworn that you saw Frenchie smirk. The two of you kept a safe distance away from Laugh Track and Mixer as you made your way into the theater, but made sure you didn't lose sight of them. The flow of the crowd pushed you and Frenchie closer together, but in the heat of the task, you didn't really notice.

Maybe this presentation wouldn't be so useless after all.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sorta kinda leaving you on a cliff hanger there if ya squint. I really like where this is headed and I'm very excited to start writing part 3. Lemme know what you think! Full disclosure I laughed harder than I should have at the “Land of the free” comment so I hope it made you chuckle. Adieu!

teeny tiny taglist: @llynx7 @stinkysam @xcryptk33p3rx

[delta-lethonomia]

ok depresso week is over, back to deliberate hyperfixation on bg3:

It is absolutely wild to me that people take Astarion to the foursome with the drow twins (romanced, spawn, post-cazador) and are shocked, shocked I tell you, that he has a bad time. But it leads me to think that there's an interesting conversation to be had here about morality applied to video games. I'm going to be using what's a bit of a strawman tbh, what I would consider an archetypical, "good person" gamer for this niche example.

(3k essay under the cut about irl morals vs video game behavior, my take on why Astarion agrees to the orgy, beating the dead horse of Astarion discourse now that the fandom has cooled off enough I might not get flogged for it, and all my election stress being translated into an increasingly bitchy narrative voice that I hope is at least mildly amusing.)

"Good Person Gamer" romances Astarion. They're probably female, which I am mentioning exclusively so I can turn that into "Good Girl Gamer" 😏, or G3. G3 picks nice dialogue options. G3 tries to support their companions, and finds diplomatic and moral solutions to problems. G3 saved the tieflings. G3 still romances Astarion because he's hot, and vulnerable, and it's not like he forces you to be evil - he just complains a bit when you save kittens stuck in trees, but you get that approval back anyway just by being nice to him. Talk him out of Ascension and you've proven to yourself he's got a good soul under all that attitude anyway. He'd healed! You banged on his grave! It's all good now!

The brothel is fun. The drow twins are hot. It's always fun when games lets you do spicy things like have threesomes and orgies! We're sex-positive! Look, the drow twins said they love their job! It's totally fine! G3, as most people, probably does not do these things in real life, but that's the fun in video games: you get to be someone you're not.

And then Astarion noticeably dissociates. He throws himself in the center and lavishes everyone with attention; he's a professional, you know. Even an unromanced Tav/Durge notices something's off, and Astarion replies something along the lines of "you don't have the right to look at me like that," presumably with worry, distress, or sympathy.

G3 is upset. They did everything right - they didn't want to hurt him, and Astarion himself said he wanted this. Why couldn't they stop midway through and remind him that he doesn't have to hurt himself? Why couldn't they talk about it afterwards, and clear the air? LARIAN WHY DO YOU HURT ME

Now, to all the G3's out there: if you were dating a person with extensive sexual trauma, having been raped literally thousands of times, would you suggest having a threesome/orgy? With prostitutes, if that's better or worse? Putting them on the spot before your mutual friends? Would you wait a few years to mention the idea, or would you do so only weeks/months into a relationship? Your first "I love you" might have only been yesterday.

And most people, I think, would say "No." Writing that scenario outside of the lens of a video game makes it sound insane - of course you wouldn't! I'm not saying that they should never have group sex or that it can't be done, but I think most people instinctively get how that would be a shitty thing to do in that context, especially without discussing it in depth beforehand and making sure you're both on the same page.

And this is the meat of the issue. Most gamers play good-aligned characters: there's a strong culture of wanting to play the hero and saving the day. But tied into that cultural monomyth, in society itself, is the idea that sex is a reward at the end. You get sex at the end of the romance arc. The date where you have sex is one of many milestones, and you're not really dating if you haven't done it yet. Some people don't have sex until their wedding night. Threesome scenes especially are a video game classic: old-school God of War, for instance, had a hidden room in every game with scantily-clad women just waiting for you to button-mash away, a little treat for the player's keen puzzle-solving abilities.

Not all romances in BG3 have sex or end with sex, (some even start with sex), but that is because BG3's character writing tries to ground itself in reality despite being a medium people utilize for fantasy. Role-playing a "good" character is mostly easy: you typically know which dialogue choice is the ethical choice, can chide Astarion for being racist, can save the numerous children with moral ease - and BG3 rewards this: a good playthrough is more fleshed out, because you haven't killed off half the cast. You get better gear. You have more allies, better allies. You know what to do.

Or, well, mostly. BG3 is kind of special imo because even the good choices have a lot of nuance, where two people can make different choices but still feel like they both picked the most ethical one. Take Shadowheart's parents, for example: they beg for her to let them go so they can die and save their daughter. Saving them leaves Shadowheart in Shar's clutches - she will experience pain for the rest of her life, but regains her parents, and with luck, Selûne will claim her soul when she dies. Kill them, and Shadowheart is free - truly free, to live her life on her own terms, free from Shar and Selûne both. Both can be the ethical choice, depending on your morals.

"But if Astarion didn't want to have the threesome, the game should have let me stop midway through/made it clearer that this would happen. He said no before Cazador - why couldn't he say no again? Why would Larian put me in this position and make me feel bad when I thought everything was alright? I wanted to be good and have fun, not feel like I pressured my boyfriend." - Strawman G3.

Because BG3 treats it's characters like people. Multiple companions make choices outside of what the player character decides for them - Shadowheart's decision to save or kill her parents, kill or save the Nightsong, or Gale, to go for the crown or not depend on what events they are there to witness personally, or can be informed by conversations you have in camp about unrelated issues. You can fully let them make their own decisions and be surprised each time as they develop into different people with each successive playthrough. A lot of people are surprised when Gale goes for the Crown of Karsus without their input. In my last multiplayer playthrough, we could not prevent Shadowheart from wanting to kill the Nightsong, and so we were forced to kill her.

Astarion is not like that. The way he talks about Ascension changes depending on your relationship. If you're merely friends, he acknowledges it's probably a bad idea, even, in direct contrast to the somewhat obsessive and frightening way he pursues it in a romantic relationship. But Astarion can't decide what to do at the end: he has no hidden point system, no hidden flags - he will always pursue Ascension even if he knows it's a bad idea, because Astarion does not trust himself, has no experience trusting himself, and needs help. As counter-intuitive as it may sound, he needs support to make his own decisions, because in that moment, he cannot be objective.

(If Astarion is ever objective is another story....)

So much of Astarion's reactions and opinions are instinctive and unthinking. "Don't let the pixie out of the lantern, are you an idiot?" -> "A pixie! And honest-to-goodness pixie! *giggles*"

"We don't need a urchin hanging around." -> Astarion approves if you help Yenna

etc. etc. etc. There's so many times he says one thing, the cruel thing, the "fuck everyone else, I've got mine"-thing, and then approves when you do the good thing. Astarion does not live in line with his values (besides pursuing a growing need for freedom) and he frankly does not really know what his values even are.

Astarion doesn't react with glee to finding all the people he seduced - who inadvertently raped him, though they didn't know, some lowlifes and scoundrels and people having a bad day and even some sweet, naive virgins like Sebastian, who took that smoking hot Elf on his word and followed him home, probably in disbelief someone so gorgeous would pay them any attention at all - tortured and locked in a dungeon underground. He's crushed by guilt. He's in pain. Astarion delights in you causing others pain (the torture scene) because it aligns with his worldview, the joy of seeing someone else suffer for once. But he's not a cold-hearted murderer. (And yes, I am differentiating between "adventurer kills a bandit" murder and "deliberately killing someone you know for reasons/no reason" murder.) He doesn't hurt anyone in camp - Shadowheart and Lae'zel are far more dangerous than him. You never have to stop him from drinking anyone else to death. Even if you never feed him again, never use his bite attack, he never bites anyone in camp. Despite being a vampire, Astarion is, effectively, harmless. (Bite night was about checking whether or not Cazador's old command's still worked. It's his first real attempt at freedom, proving to himself that he's free from compulsion. Hence why the roll to get him to stop is a 5, giving you a 75% likelihood of succeeding. He doesn't actually want to kill you. And you get two chances!!!)

Astarion doesn't enjoy death for the sake of death. He's terrified if you side with the goblins and kill the tieflings despite goading you into doing it. I don't doubt that he could hurt others (god knows he's got enough feelings to work out that way), but there's a significant difference between a little knife play and condemning thousands of people to be tortured in the Hells for all eternity. Sacrificing his siblings is different, because they, like him, are guilty, and deserve their deaths. He agrees to sacrifice his fellow spawn as an act of self hatred, of self harm. But all those other people stupid enough to want to sleep with him? Given a day to think about it, I think Astarion would agree that that's not right - and that's why he thanks you for preventing his Ascension. That much murder isn't him. He can be thoughtless, cruel, and unkind, but Astarion isn't a psychopath.

Take him to the brothel, and slipping back into that role, the seductive rake, it as easy as breathing. I don't think Astarion has ever thought about if he's the type of person to enjoy group sex, or even if he wants it. I don't doubt that Astarion enjoys sex, that he wants to have sex (he is, after all that, still shockingly horny), but he's just discovered the idea of having sex with someone he loves. He's riding that high. Of course he says yes: not only is he a different man now (he's free!), it's something he's done a thousand times already - maybe it'll be different this time, maybe something has changed - or maybe, an orgy was on offer, so of course Astarion is there. It's his purpose. He's been doing it for 200 years. Where else would he be?

What I'm saying is that Astarion didn't think about what sleeping with the drow twins meant for your relationship, or how he would feel about it at all. He just went for it. He had a bad time. You then don't discuss it because that would mean admitting that he finally made a choice by himself and it backfired. He didn't think, or maybe he did, and it turns out he just doesn't know himself. Why discuss it? A relationship with G3 apparently means group sex. They probably asked twice. They backtracked all the way to Wyrm's Crossing post-Cazador. Will they ask again? How many times can he say no?

In reality, in the real world, the act of asking can be the problem in and of itself. If your significant other/spouse/lover asks you to do something you don't want to do, be it a threesome, anal, opening the relationship etc, these actions have consequences. The act of asking doesn't happen in a vacuum like it does in video games: there is a cost associated with it, a gamble, and while it may pay off, it may not. Some people get worn down and agree to things they don't want to do. Sometimes you break up because the act of asking is so inherently disrespectful you can't reconcile your differing wants and needs. If you're dating someone who has experienced the gut-wrenching pain of being cheated on, you don't ask 2 months into a new relationship if you can fuck other people. This should not come as a surprise to you, to G3, to anyone. It's common sense.

BG3 giving you the opportunity for a foursome with Astarion not only to give the player their hot'n'spicy sex scene (then playfully bops you on the nose by making it a fade-to-black, you naughty little perverts, you), but also to continue its theme of treating the player like a mature adult, who is dealing with other mature adults, and who can and should live with the consequences of their own actions. Subsequent patches have watered this down, I admit, but I do believe that that was the ethos guiding their work from the beginning. BG3 wants you to interact with the characters like people. If you roll over and tell them what they want to hear, you will Ascend Astarion, and he'll enslave you in turn. If you agree with Gale on everything, he will kill himself and you - or, he'll become a god, becoming the exact sort of god he used to rail against. Agree with Karlach, and she will rather die than go back to the Hells. You get my point.

"But Larian could have let me check in on Astarion midway through. Maybe it was a mistake to ask, but they should have let me check on him and stop it all if he wanted. I was trying to trust him to make his own decisions." - Strawman G3

Ok. We add a dialogue option. "Astarion, love, are you alright? We can stop at any time if you want."

Astarion disapproves (-5)

He's not backing out. Thank you for asking, darling, but fuck off. (I don't think he'd actually say fuck off but the implicit message would be there. I can't see Astarion stopping midway through, nor appreciating you doubting him. Nothing changes.)

"But I still feel bad." - Strawman G3

And I completely understand that. It's a video game. Don't worry! Of course you should get your sex scene - it's a reward! You got their approval high enough! You have enough charisma points! In DA:O, you can also have an orgy, unlocked by giving your companions enough gifts! It's a game! You have enough points, you get the thing!!! You killed Cazador - you win! Have your cake and eat it too! Congrats, you unlocked your hot slutty vampire elf who's basically a trained courtesan, who needs you to be his moral compass, who will never leave you so long as you don't actively rape him - enjoy all the fun orgies in your future!

Your actual choice - the choice the game gives you - is to realize that taking what's essentially a human trafficking victim to a brothel is a dumb idea, but they didn't want to punish you for it.

"Well, Astarion should have said something then. He said no before, he can say no again." - Strawman G3

If you go through life pushing peoples boundaries and expect them to verbally tell you what you're doing wrong, you're gonna be friendless and have a bad time. This ties back to both Astarion having difficulty knowing and defending his own values, BG3 trying to let you make your own decisions without setting out a clear "good or bad" path on occasion, and the hope that you'd use your own morals to make decisions. G3 would never behave in this way irl, and that's where the shock comes from, the guilt from committing an action they thought was without consequence in a risk-free fantasy scenario, and then feeling unpleasantly surprised when called out.

But it's a video game, and you didn't get the little zap, the little sting of an Astarion disapproves in the corner that told you you made the wrong choice. In fact, because he doesn't disapprove, it's not actually the wrong choice!

It really was mean how the Narrator made G3 feel bad, wasn't it. They didn't mean to hurt him. Astarion doesn't mention it, so it's probably fine.

... have you talked to Halsin yet? Surely he had a good time. Right?

CONCLUSION

People think they're good and moral and will typically behave "heroically" in video games. Games support this and reward players for doing so. The "good path" is expected to be clear. However, video games are not real life no matter how much they play at immersion, and multiple games have trained players in a linear "do x, receive y" type fashion. Sex is a reward in games, and is treated that way in real life as well, so players expect the Sharess' orgy scene to be a reward, and are then shocked when Astarion/Gale/Halsin etc reveal during or afterwards that they had a bad time. This is because Larian wants you to treat BG3 like a role playing game and interact with it seriously, and isn't afraid to boop you for your actions in ways that mimic real life relationships. This ethical dissonance makes people uncomfortable especially when they play games to role-play as someone better than themselves, and are surprised when they aren't herded down predetermined "good" paths via instantaneous approval/disapproval mechanics or unlockable "ideal" dialogue.

It is absolutely possible that someday Astarion might be into meaningless group sex with prostitutes for fun and pleasure. However, that is the sort of thing you'd probably either wait for him to bring up by himself organically, or discuss in a long-term trusting relationship after he's had potentially years to process the idea of not immediately hopping into bed with someone, as well as disentangling his instinctive "beaten-in" sexually available behavior from his actual desires. People much more emotionally mature and undamaged than Astarion have destroyed their own relationships by inadvertently pushing a partner (or themselves) into various forms of group sex or other sexual acts. It's not something you do on a random Tuesday on a whim.

Or maybe it is, and I'm just chronically boring and surrounded by boring people lmao

TO THE POSTER THAT INSPIRED THIS: I'm so so sorry if you ever see this, not trying to call you out at all hence no linking, I just wanted to pick apart why I think you felt that way. The thoughts just finally bubbled over after a year+ lol

[orange-foxes]

5️⃣ Laughter Is Infectious (The Best Medicine Remix) by moonix (4k)

Five times the Foxes tried to make Andrew laugh, and one time someone succeeded without even trying.

5️⃣ A Charmed Life by KatherineF (6k)

5 times one of the Foxes sees Andrew smile, and the 1 time all of them do. Or, Andrew Minyard is a huge softie for Neil Josten and he can't hide it.

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Andrew knows he treats Neil different. So why is it so bothersome that everyone else seems to know it, too? Five times Neil gets boyfriend privileges, and one time it doesn't piss Andrew off.

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5 foxes that worry Andrew isn't good enough for Neil (and find out he is) and one that knew all along.

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Five times Neil tells someone that he and Andrew aren’t dating, and one time Andrew uses his words to set the record straight.

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"Neil looked across the room at Andrew and felt a surge of affection so intense that it stuck in his throat. He wondered how someone who had rolled out of bed barely an hour ago could have the audacity to make him feel like this." or Five times Neil Josten had a realisation and one time he did something about it.

5️⃣ Anything But Quiet by lady_flash (16k)

Five times Andrew tries to be quiet, and the one time he lets himself be loud.

5️⃣ You go your way, I'll go your way too by emmerrr (20k)

Neil tries to leave it as long as possible to make his first phone-call to Andrew. He figures the longer he can go without hearing Andrew’s voice, the easier it will be in the long run. He doesn’t quite make it forty-eight hours. (Five times Neil calls Andrew after Andrew has graduated, plus one time Andrew calls Neil)

5️⃣ reckless/i like it by Willow_bird (27k)

One thing didn’t seem to have changed since getting off the drugs. One thing almost seemed to have gotten worse. ”The next time someone comes for you, stand down and let me deal with it. Do you understand?” “If it means losing you, then no.” --- 5 times Andrew realized this something he had for Neil was, well, treacherous + 1 time he admitted (at least to himself) that he liked it

5️⃣ men, abort mission (that is the silver lining in my cloudy disposition) by quensty (2k)

The recorded number of times someone hit on Neil Josten and got nowhere, and the one time Andrew didn't even have to try.

5️⃣ five times. by redblue (4k)

The five times Andrew doesn't say he loves Neil, and the one time he does.

5️⃣ Identity Theft by likearecord (5k)

The Foxes make a bet: will Neil really be able to tell Aaron and Andrew apart if Aaron is deliberately impersonating his twin? Or, Aaron Minyard's adventures in identity theft.

5️⃣ Brother of Mine by Paradoxolotl (12k)

5 times Aaron should have realized Andrew had somebody, and the one time he met him.

5️⃣ Assumptions by Exyissexy25 (22k)

5 times Neil thought that Andrew was pulling away, and 1 time Andrew realized that Neil is an idiot. Features Neil and Andrew learning to communicate.

5️⃣ Just Because I Can by NikNak22 (8k)

Dan and Neil exchange a look. Then Dan sighs, rubbing a hand across her forehead. “Great. Just what we need. A prank war. The last time the team faced one of those, I lost a dealer, a goalie, and someone was nearly blinded.” “All in one day?” Neil quips. AKA: Five times the Foxes were pranked, and the one time the prankster gets their due.

5️⃣ hold on to let go by djhedy, fuzzballsheltiepants, moonix (14k)

Five times Andrew and Neil reunite in the wrong place at the wrong time, and one time everything is just right.

[hrizantemy]

As a fellow Az hater, can we take a minute to shit on him? I've already made my own opinions clear on him, and his complacency. However, the thing that makes me absolutely livid, beyond everything else he's done, is the fact that, despite him supposedly having the best friendship dynamic with Nesta according to so many people, he is so quick to throw her to the wolves when it comes to endangering her life.

This also reflects on his weird complex as well, I guess, but it's the scene where he argues that Elain 'shouldn't be exposed' to whatever kind of 'darkness' surrounds the trove, meanwhile he's perfectly happy to suggest Nesta doing it, actively undermining the healing and autonomy of both Nesta and Elain.

One sister is mentally, physically and emotionally not fit to go on adventures and search for ancient artefacts, while the other, from what we see, is, and Az, who's living with Nesta and cassian and should be well aware of this, decides they should convince her to do it just to stop Elain from doing so.

As a fellow Azriel hater, I couldn’t agree more. People like to claim he has this great dynamic with Nesta, but really, it’s just him treating her with the bare minimum of decency—which, given how everyone else around her acts, is something Nesta sadly isn’t used to. But that’s the issue: Azriel knows how much she’s suffering, and yet he’s so complacent when it comes to her mistreatment. He never stands up for her when it matters, whether it’s against Cassian’s constant badgering or the Inner Circle’s condescending attitudes.

The fact that he didn’t even get her a gift at Solstice just shows how low on his priority list she really is, despite the supposed “friendship” people seem to think they have. And let’s not forget the moment when he thought it was funny that she got shoved down the stairs. How is that remotely acceptable? He should be aware of how much she’s struggling, but instead, he just stands by and lets it happen, never stepping in to protect her when it really counts.

And that moment with the trove is exactly what reveals Azriel’s hypocrisy. He’s all about protecting Elain from the “darkness” of the trove but has no problem throwing Nesta into danger when she’s clearly not in the right place mentally or emotionally. It’s so infuriating—he’s perfectly fine with endangering Nesta’s life just to spare Elain, undermining both of their autonomy in the process. He’s supposed to be aware of what Nesta’s going through, living with her and Cassian, but he still pushes her into situations she’s not ready for, all to save his precious Elain. It’s like he sees Elain as this delicate flower who needs constant protection, while Nesta is just disposable in his eyes.

Let’s talk about that hike and how Azriel purposely packed Nesta’s bag heavier, knowing full well she’d be the one to carry it. It’s like he wanted her to struggle. It wasn’t some innocent mistake—Azriel knew exactly what he was doing. She’s being forced to train and rebuild herself, and instead of giving her even the smallest bit of support, he adds to her burden, literally. It just highlights how little he respects her. Even if they weren’t on the best terms, common decency would’ve meant not deliberately making her situation worse.

And don’t even get me started on the scene where Rhysand yells at Nesta and threatens her. Azriel, who’s supposedly this honorable, morally upright figure, just stands by and lets it happen. Not a word, not a glance, nothing. For someone who’s supposed to be observant, calculating, and protective, he sure had no problem watching Rhys humiliate her. If Azriel had any real respect or care for Nesta, he would’ve at least tried to step in, even if Rhys is his High Lord. He’s so quick to defend Elain, but when it comes to Nesta being verbally attacked by Rhysand, he stays completely silent, once again proving how little he values her well-being.

It’s like he’s willing to treat Nesta like garbage just to keep in Rhysand’s and Feyre’s good graces. There’s no friendship or camaraderie there—just complacency and a willingness to pile onto Nesta’s struggles.

[postsforposting]

Saw a post about the Logan backstory that DPW might be referencing. The bits I want to talk about:

Mysterio tricked Logan to slaughter everyone in the Old Man comic run. But that plot, at least to me, doesn't make The Worst Wolverine. It probably makes the Most Tortured Wolverine -- the story of a man slaughtering his own family with his bare hands because he was mind controlled. Which inevitably created a power vacuum so gigantic that the world basically collapsed as supervillains take over the world. But the title of Worst Wolverine should belong to the Logan that completely abandons his most important moral value: to be the protector. The title of Worst Wolverine doesn't go to the man who got brainwashed and killed without knowing. The title goes to the Logan who killed indescriminantly and didn’t want to stop.

That would be true if this story is about Jesus and God (anchor being) saving the world. But Wade isn't Jesus. He's anti-Jesus, because he's an anti hero. Not Satan, which is the opposite of Jesus, but anti-Jesus. Perverted Jesus. A Jesus who saves by killing rather than offering (after) life. A Jesus who doesn't offer eternal life, but eternal death: killing those who need saved.

Logan is not a failed, coward of a god, but an anti-god. Again, not Satan.

This Logan isn't the worst version of Wolverine. He's the perversion of that character, a perversion of God. God saves living people if they agree to join him; people are saved in the afterlife--ie, saved after death. From the worse fate of eternal torture. If the worst of a good person is someone who doesn't help when they could because they're wallowing in their own self doubt....

An evil version would be a villain, selfish, laughing all the way, doing it for kicks because he hates everyone else.

An anti version is one who does the bad thing for the right reasons. Reasons no one else understands or agrees with.

A Logan who wasn't mind controlled while he killed everyone, fully knowing what he was doing, and freely chose to do that. Like the way Magneto is an anti-hero, trying to save his friends by killing other people. It's the anti version of that if Magneto "saves his friends".....by killing them.

Hear me out here: Wade knows he's fictional. Wade's most defining trait, when he chooses to become anti-Jesus, is that he does not want to be a slave. He succeeds in avoiding Francis. But when he becomes Deadpool, he learns he's fiction--and thus controlled by someone else, by god, by us. That's also slavery. He "escaped his fate" only to not escape his fate.

He and everyone else in the world are slaves of god. God of that world deliberately makes people suffer for his amusement: blorbo torture, because blorbo is not real but merely a toy--a slave.

How does one escape that? Get written out of the narrative. To escape slavery by author-god, you cease existing. Die. Only then will you not be a slave.

Eternal death as salvation. He only kills people who...deserve it.

To silence the voices in your head that control you...the anti version of IRL Jesus's eternal life via death.

Wade does the same thing: he kills those who are suffering from god the most, those who are damned to the fate he escaped from Francis. Who are being made to do evil things, who don't have a choice in the matter.

Villains. Like Francis was going to make him do.

Deadpool likes this Logan because this Logan IS him: Jesus and god are the same entity, just as Logan and Wade are.

If Jesus saves those who are damned.....who does god save? Everyone else.

If anti-Jesus saves those who are damned....who does anti-god save? Everyone else.

See how you can say two different things with the same sentence, if only your assumptions are different?

What can you do if you're a fucking liar like Wade, then? Say one thing and mean another, just like a double entendre. Let alone what you can say between the lines.

Wade only kills people who deserve it, because the most needy are who Jesus saves.

If anti-Jesus saves by killing, does anti-god save by allowing villains to live? Protecting and reforming them, getting them better lives? Because as god he's responsible for that?

God thinks everyone COULD be saved, if only they obeyed. Doesn't actually reach down and free anyone, does in fact demand obedience. Anti-god....thinks everyone deserves to be saved. Thinks no one should have to obey.

Wade's a fucking liar, but so is Logan: he couldn't have them thinking he wanted to be there, ie sent them away when they asked for help. Did he say no when he wanted to join them and just wouldn't admit it? Or did he not want to be with them at all, which is an equal interpretation of "incapable of telling them he wanted to be there".

Did the humans come and hunt mutants? Whose bodies were piled up? Is that truth or lie?

Was it really that he wanted to save the villains from slavery, it was too late, and it was the bodies of the villains he's upset about?

Worst Logan's world hates him because he slaughtered his friends, who were beloved by the world. He turned on the Xmen for killing people who attacked them. Did he kill them? Or did he just leave?

He ruined his world and did something unforgiveable: I think he killed them all himself. Lotta kids didn't get to grow up because of him, yeah? If he killed everyone in the school.....

Told them they looked ridiculous in their jammies they wore to....keep people alive, to kill villains, to kill people who were enslaved.

He couldn't help trying to save people, being there when it mattered most. Nobody understands why he did it, as not even the TVA are privy to the fourth wall....so they hate him. He's their worst. He earned that title by their books.

But Wade gets it.

Look back at what Logan does and does not say. Sure you can read a "he's a coward" between the lines....but you can also read anti-god, once you know he's a fucking liar.

Edit: "got you, fuck face": this isn't the good guy you think he is, this movie isn't what you think it is, and neither am i. We the audience are the fuck face

I also think Logan tried to tell his X-Men that this was all fictional. They're supposed to be all about helping people.... But they don't ever rehabilitate anyone. God would be disappointed they didn't actually want to help.

[silent-sanctum]

i loved your one shot “sensitive” sm omg 🫶 can i request for a part two? sfw or nsfw is up to you but i just wanted to tell you that i loved it lot <3 thanks for considering!

Ask and you shall receive anon 😬 I went on ahead and made it midway between sfw and nsfw. I hope you like this one 😊🫡

word count: 1.5k

Jotaro wasn’t one to tease others with fun and games, and everyone who has at least seen him knew it too.

But did it feel satisfying seeing you that flustered for the first time in his life. He always had that need to “get back” at you for all the times you approached him with this… certain type of manner.

One that wasn’t obnoxious and loud that the other girls from his class would lay onto him or one that gave off as desperate and clingy. What made yours different was subtlety- the type that seemed ordinary but had a certain motive underneath. And it drove him crazy.

Honestly, what he’d done was fair. One act compared to your many playful jabs? Reasonably justified.

From this point on, Jotaro doesn’t know what would happen next considering he said what he said to you back in the small restaurant. He might as well assume that you’d find ways on how to hide in a corner just to recollect yourself. That’s how it always goes in the movies he watched at least.

The guys went back to their respective rooms, including you following close behind at a snail’s pace. He’d risk a glance back just to check whether you still felt that embarrassment from earlier, but that he’d rather maintain his nonchalant attitude no matter what.

Jotaro unlocked the door to your room and stepped inside, letting you close it after him.

What was left for tonight was to get some sleep and continue on with this trip. He kicked his shoes off to the side, sat on his side of the bed, and-

“Yah.”

Just as he was about to lie on his pillow, all the room lights turned off, leaving only the moon outside to illuminate the small space. “I have to admit that your little act a while ago was clever. Obviously, it got to me and you got what you wanted out of it. However…” He heard the clear click of the lock. “Don’t expect me to let go of this stunt of yours that easy.”

In the darkness, Jotaro watched your figure walk across the room with deliberate steps. You didn’t stop by your side of the bed, but kept walking until he gazed up at you standing beside him. He cocked his brow and crossed his arms. “What are you doing?”

“I should be thanking you for what you did then. The waist grab. The prolonged hold you around me,” you said in a way that matched the atmosphere of the calm evening air. Then you bent over to him with a small curl of your lip. “The want of hearing me moan of all things.”

Being this close to you together with what you emphasized had Jotaro’s heart spiking in his chest but he kept his cool and managed to speak with ease. “What’s there to thank? If anything, you should be saying sorry for teasing me all the fucking time.”

“Oh but you see, you don’t actually need my sorry, do you?” You slowly reached forward to take his hat off him. With that off to the side, your fingers returned to comb through his curls, trailing one finger down behind his ear. A pleasant tingle ran its course throughout his body but he made sure to not show.

The tip of your finger continued to trace down the column of his thick neck and collarbones, until you grasped the golden chain of his collar. “Because you wanted to play back, it confirmed one thing that held me back,” You tugged at the accessory, hard enough to pull Jotaro forward a bit. “That my feelings aren’t entirely one-sided.”

Jotaro had to thank you for closing the lights because with you suddenly being this aggressive had his face fuming. To make this situation worse, he knew you weren’t lying.

He did like you too but he didn’t want to admit it. And now the consequences came to bite him in the ass.

“I think it’s only fair I get something in return, hm?”

Jotaro still held himself together but for how long? He wasn’t sure. He could only put up his facade on normal situations but this wasn’t one of them. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Without averting eye contact, he let Star hover quietly behind you with the intent of prying you off him to get this evening over with. It almost worked but the second he caught you smirk for a split second, he knew.

The delinquent clicked his tongue as he physically felt the fabrics tighten significantly around his Stand’s limbs. Now, he couldn’t move his arms and legs in the process.

You, and by extension Silent Sanctuary, had already anticipated his next move.

“I knew you’d try to push me off,” you giggled. “Not this time though.”

Jotaro furrowed his brows and swallowed at the creeping sensation trailing up the length of his leg to his crotch. Only when he gazed down did he found out that one of your Stand’s fabrics was the thing that played around with his belts. He jolted when he felt your finger gently grazed the shell of his ear.

“I’ve always wanted to try this at least once in my lifetime,” you purred with your face always inches away from his. He gritted his teeth as your damn finger traced a line down his chest, his abs, and-

Shit. Jotaro couldn’t control how his entire body warmed all over or how a bulge had grown underneath his pants. It didn’t help that his heart couldn’t stop pounding. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Get… Get off,” he said with little bite to his voice.

“Hmm? Really? You don’t sound convincing as you would’ve.”

“I don’t like this.”

With those words, Jotaro could tell your gaze softened in the dark room. “Why aren’t you fighting back then? Couldn’t you tell I’ve gradually loosened Sanctuary’s hold on you?”

To think of it, he could move his limbs around a little even with the fabrics still wrapped around them. Why didn’t he feel them slacking? Was it because… Oh… Oh no.

It dawned on Jotaro. Did he got too immersed with your play that his senses dulled a bit? And the worst part of it was that he wasn’t completely disappointed with himself. It’s as if he… liked it?

“Last chance, do you want me off or no?” You muttered into his ear, coy and sweet but with traces of genuine concern.

The delinquent couldn’t say anything. He could only stare into your eyes with the same furrowed brows, heated cheeks, and pressed lips as he did nothing to shrug off any of the fabrics encasing his extremities. Fucking hell.

A minute goes by and you broke into a small grin. “Interesting. Looks like I get to have my payback after all.” Jotaro gritted his teeth as simultaneously, all the fabrics on him tightened harshly. “Care to guess what that might be?”

He thought about what it could be but your finger toying with the skin by his ear combined with the silk lightly pressing against his crotch is making it hard. “Y-You tell me.”

“Well… it’s quite synonymous to what you looked for from me.” You leaned close until he could feel your breath brush past his ear, your teeth grazing its shell. He shivered and writhed a bit as the cloth added a bit more pressure on his bulge, slithering around to make sure it’s covered entirely. “Perhaps an audio cue like-”

In one heartbeat, you bit onto his ear the same time your Stand pressed against his crotch with enough force to make Jotaro buck his hips with a deep, resounding groan fleeting past his lips- one that faded off as the sound of his panting followed.

“That.”

You smirked and drew back in an instant together with your Stand’s fabrics. Without the restraints, Jotaro was able to sit upright, unsure whether to cup his bitten ear or traitorous mouth. Either way, he surprised himself from what he uttered out in the moment.

But he does know how to send a “what the fuck” glare towards your direction. Not that you were affected by it much when you skipped to switch the room lights on and unlock the door. You smiled at him with a cheeky face he wanted to do stuff with. “Now you know that you can’t out-do the professional.”

Probably from whiplash, Jotaro winced as his head throbbed lightly. “Where the hell are you going? It’s late.”

“Going off to Pol’s room. I have some gossip I wanna share with him,” you said as you opened the door. “Sweet dreams!”

Frustrated with himself, Jotaro scoffed and called out. “ Oi! You get back here woman! We’re not done!” But the door had already closed behind you as a receding “I like you too!” echoed into the room.

The delinquent slouched back onto the headboard and raked his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath to cool his warm cheeks and steady his beating heart. He clicked his tongue when he now had to deal with the tent still evident in his trousers.

And despite their exchange, he smiled to himself. “That minx.”

[scrubbinn]

Slime HRT 3 Months: First changes

Omg omg omg!!! My first real change! It finally happened! Ok! Ok. Ok, let’s start at the beginning, I need to temper my excitement a little bit. To start from the very beginning, the past month I've been drinking so much water lately. I've always been drinking three bottles a day at work but now I’ve been drinking nearly all the time. I was told that was the first sign everything was working. Becoming fluid requires fluids if you can believe it. I have to avoid coffee and tea now, which has been one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done in my life, but the caffeine in both can actually be really damaging to your new slime cells apparently. It’s pretty much room temperature water or non-caffeinated energy drinks only. Still, if I need to constantly drink water then at least that means the medication is working.

My skin has gotten so smooth too, it feels like I’m made of warm ice. There's still a lot of hair, and there's still some rough patches on my body, but the hairs and rough spots should disappear after a few more months. It really is just my limbs that have gotten smoother so far, which sadly includes the soles of my feet. I actually ended up slipping on the floor and crashed into the kitchen and directly on all the pots and pans. I was more panicked about if I'd broken anything around me rather than if anything about me was broken! I didn’t break anything, utensil or bone, but it’s clear I need to take more deliberate steps plus socks on if I want to make sure being a soapy slime isn’t going to send me to the hospital.

 It would be worse if I can’t phone anyone to take me to a clinic in the first place. I've heard that after a while you start to lose the ability to use a smartphone since it can't read your fingerprint or something. There's a few people that have made money off making fake fingers for those of us who no longer have skin. It's kind of gross, but my ADHD is definitely not going to survive without constant internet access, it's just another expense of perfecting my life I suppose. All of this new equipment I’ve been looking into has been starting to add up to a lot of money. Does everyone who takes animal HRTs go through this? I’ll need to waterproof my bed, buy a lint trap for cleaning out dust stuck in slime, and buy clothes designed not to sink into me. I don’t actually know if I need those things since it sounds like I’m going to have some kind of membrane, but this is a brand new medication so I don’t think even that doctor knows how things will go for me.

But ok, the big change. Just this morning I was eating a breakfast sandwich and had trouble biting into it. My teeth went rubbery! There's a blue tint to them too now. It's going to be a pain eating food now, I had to pull apart small bits and swallow them whole, and I just gave up on the bread. But now I've been experimenting with them. They aren't like a gel and there's still a few hard ones, but now that I know, I find myself constantly poking them. It just… makes me feel happy when they bounce back. Oh, but if my teeth are like this, I bet it means there's a lot of changes going inside my bones. Though it is concerning how I'm going to be able to stand after a while.

One big downside was that this meant I had to schedule a doctor's appointment. Normally doctor visits are fine for me, you go talk to someone you'll forget in a day and get some blood taken, but I had the feeling this wasn't going to be like that, and I was pretty much spot on. As soon as I entered his office, he just looked at me. Like that kind of look you get when faced with a disapproving parent or a teacher when you forget to turn in your math homework for the eighth time. Same doctor as before, I think there are assistants that handle certain cases but I got stuck with the guy you see in all the magazines outside his office. He asks how things are progressing and I showed him everything that's changed. He looked concerned, but most people can't wiggle their teeth, so that checks out. He mentioned my dosage was going to be increased, and that I should start taking a new medication alongside it. Some newer drug that's supposed to lower my level of humanity and make me more malleable. He told me I would probably see another change soon and then said three months was too big a gap and I needed to write a new entry in this thing, or whatever. Maybe I'll sit tight for four months next time just to show him.

Though the biggest downside of my new self was that one of my roommates had noticed what was going on with me and confronted me about it. Yeah so, I may have forgotten to mention to everyone other than my girlfriend that I was going through with this procedure at that point in time. I was going to tell them eventually, when I was more slimy, probably. They got mad at me for not telling anyone else, but especially not either them or my other roommate. Said it was important for everyone here to know what changes could affect the living situation. Like me being happier is going to hurt anyone. They said they weren't upset about the treatment and just the fact I didn't tell them… But for some reason it still hurt, like they were upset about the treatment. Sometimes that’s just how it is. Someone says the wrong thing and it just breaks you. Slime shouldn’t break, it’s supposed to bend.

I'm going to focus on the changes and avoid bringing up my new self with other people. A few online friends I told are supportive but god forbid what might happen if my family finds out. I'm sure they'll accept me eventually, but they aren't the type to accept change pleasantly. Change. That’s a loaded word for me. I knew there would be some rough spots, but I didn't think things could go this badly for my mental state, this was supposed to be a happy entry. Oops, sorry future me when you look back and read this, haha... I guess I can try to find something happier to write about next time. I think I'm done for tonight. I want to cry. I could really go for some coffee.

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Prev - Next

Thank you everyone for the support on the last chapter, the amount of likes and reblogs are insane. Seriously, thank you everyone. Apologies for the sudden dark shift in the tone but I’d like to make this a story of self acceptance rather than just a list of changes.

At list (for anyone who wanted to be mentioned)

@a-shramp

We now have a special announcement. Due to some recent events, we have discovered we're plural. We're still trying to figure out this revelation and it has been stressful for all of us. We don’t know if we wish to include our plurality into this story. It's all very new to us. We’ll be taking some extra time from Slime HRT to learn about our system and make an introduction post so you know who’s who. We're very new to this world so any support would be appreciated.

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Cursed

The last thing Lan Jingyi remembers is pushing Sizhui out of the monster's way - and a wave of blinding, searing pain immediately after. He can still feel the echo of it pounding weakly inside his skull, but it's nothing he can't handle. He's had worse headaches when he was hungover.

Anyway, he's awake and conscious at least - but he's becoming painfully aware of the fact that he's alone in the middle of the forest, with only the night and the few fireflies flitting about as company. Has everyone left already? Did they finish the night hunt without him... and just... left him there?

He feels a pang of hurt at that - he risked his life to save his best friend and then said friend and his seniors simply forgot about him? Alas, he'll have a word with them when he gets back at the inn. They had better not left there already too!

---

"Oh, sorry, young man, but the cultivators that stayed here for the past three days have left already!" the old innkeeper said, with an apologetic look. "Were you with them? I don't think I remember you..." Jingyi's face fell at that, he's just helped the lady carry some very heavy boxes yesterday and scared away some thieves, "...but then again I'm also really old..."

Jingyi forced a smile. "That's okay. Could you please get me a room anyway? I'm really tired, it's been a long night. I'll just catch up to everyone later."

"Of course! Go upstairs and pick your favorite, I'll have some food and drinks delivered to you!"

"Thanks but... I don't have that much money on me right now..."

"Hush now, I'm not just going to let a growing boy starve just for some coins, right? I'll scam some noble out of his cash to make up for the expenses later. Go now, you need to rest!"

---

Jingyi bites into his chicken, and though the meat is tender and flavorful, he finds no pleasure eating it. He feels... confused? Abandoned? Worthless?

He feels expendable.

Why would everyone leave him behind like that? He's really not done anything wrong this time, and even if he broke a rule or two, everyone seemed to find his jokes and comments funny, and it's not like he caused anyone any trouble... he hasn't been in anyone's way either...

Hanguang-Jun never leaves people behind. Much less if they're hurt. Senior Wei is the same, always quick to help others... why not him? Sure, he's strong and independent and capable, but he could have still been gravely injured, or even dead. Did neither of the people he looks up to the most cared to even check if he was still alive?

And Sizhui... they're friends, right? They've always been close, like brothers, they grew up together, been through so much - and yet...

It wasn't like something happened to them either. The old lady said they all left together and seemed fine - so they must have done it deliberately. They meant to leave Jingyi behind. They didn't care. None of them, not one bit.

Jingyi feels his chicken taste saltier than before... maybe it's just his tears.

---

He leaves the inn a few hours later, but can't find it in himself to smile at the old lady on the way out. He's paid her all he had and left her the few trinkets he bought in town the day before as thanks - she could at least hand them over to her grandkids if she didn't like them.

Jingyi always looks forward to returning home from night hunts, seeing all the other juniors and raving about how cool it had all been - but now, Jingyi is in no hurry to arrive to the Cloud Recesses. He feels like he's been kicked in the gut, his emotions so overwhelmingly negative that he worries he might even throw up from them and lose all the food he's managed to eat. He has no money left anymore, and he'll go hungry if he can't get himself together...

He keeps wondering what caused all this. He's been turning every interaction he's had with everyone for the past several days, months, years all around his head - and he can't find anything out of place. Is he that dumb that he didn't pick up on some social cue that told him everyone actually hated him?

But that can't be right - if they hated him, Jingyi would know. They were just indifferent to him, couldn't be bothered to care if he was alive or dead. That somehow hurts more than hatred.

No matter what, he has to know. Why have they all been pretending to tolerate him all this time then? As courtesy?

Jingyi grips his sword hilt tightly. His sadness and betrayal turn to anger, and he draws his blade out, slicing off the thick branches of the trees lining up the forest path. They fall loudly, the wood moaning under the weight.

Some lumberjack is going to have the best day of their life when they visit the forest today.

---

By the time the Cloud Recesses come into view, Jingyi feels a placid form of disgust towards his life and everyone in it. If neither of the people around him give any flying fucks about him, perhaps he is not deserving of it - or of them for that matter.

Why should anyone deserve to be treated as an accessory that's easily dropped at the earliest convenience? Jingyi might not be the brightest or the strongest, but he's not going to allow anyone to treat him like this.

Perhaps he has been wrong idolizing Hanguang-Jun all this time, or defending Senior Wei every time he heard people speaking ill of him. Perhaps those rumors that Jingyi has been so quick to dismiss had some truth to them.

And about Sizhui - well, he can find himself a new best friend, one that he won't leave to die in some random forest after he took a possibly fatal hit in his place. Good luck with that.

He doesn't expect to be greeted or acknowledged by anyone when he enters through the ornate gate of the Cloud Recesses - and he isn't. Nobody cares to look his way - and he swallows back his tears and does the same. Screw them all.

He doesn't expect Sizhui to say anything when he walks in their shared room either - and he doesn't.

But Jingyi does.

"Thanks for fucking checking on me after I took the fall for you."

"I didn't ask you to." Sizhui responds, not taking his eyes off the book he's reading. "You're always like this, reckless just to show off to everyone later."

Jingyi feels himself grow angry, "Sorry for not wanting you to fucking die, I guess."

"Swearing is forbidden. If you do it again, I'll have you punished."

"Like I give a fuck."

---

Hanguang-Jun supervises his punishment, and though Jingyi would have felt embarrassed in other circumstances, he feels a mild sort of annoyance at being around this man that he used to consider his hero.

He writes the rules as always, from his memory. He knows them by heart because, he bitterly remembers, he learned them with Sizhui, and Hanguang-Jun taught them memorization techniques to make it easier.

"Why...?" he finds himself gritting through his teeth. "Why...?!"

Hanguang-Jun lifts his eyes from his work for a few seconds, the same indifference in his gaze as if he looked at some insect passing by his desk. He says nothing, but Jingyi know he won't.

He's not worth the effort.

---

Senior Wei teaches them talisman theory. Jingyi loves this class - used to love it. Everyone does, Senior Wei is a great teacher, he's fun and he shows them all sorts of neat tricks.

Jingyi can't be bothered to pay any attention. He draws his talismans on instinct, the movements ingrained in his mind already - he's been hyperfixated on this for months, he's read all of Senior Wei's notes and even asked for extras. Everyone else is far behind him, even Sizhui.

That knowledge both satisfies and upsets Jingyi.

He's the best student in this class, it's effortless. Senior Wei always uses his work as an example, and they often hold demonstrations together.

None of that happens anymore. Senior Wei doesn't even look his way, not even as everybody gets their characters wrong and Jingyi is the only one whose talisman burns correctly.

When class is over, Jingyi all but runs out the door.

---

He leans against one of the large trees overlooking the bunny field and breathes in and out shakily, tears sliding down his face silently. He's never felt like this before, it's unbearably painful. It's his worst fear come to life, being abandoned, forgotten, a nuisance everyone wants to get rid of.

Not even the bunnies come to greet him, busy playing in the tall grass.

He has nobody to turn to, all the people he thought his friends look at him like he's a particularly bothersome stain on their pristine clothing. Jingyi is long past trying to figure out why.

He curls in on himself and tries to sleep. He'll get punished for it, for slacking off, for sleeping outside, for missing his training, for being alive.

He hugs himself and closes his eyes. Maybe he should have died during that night hunt, it would have hurt less.

---

Jingyi wakes up to the sound of a guqin and flute duet, so beautiful that he wonders if he is being played the music of heavens. Has he died? Has everyone left him to die of exposure in the bunny field? It must have been bothersome getting rid of his body...

But slowly, ever so slowly, the music floats Jingyi back into his body, into his consciousness, and his eyes open, gradually, to a world of decorated ceilings and sandalwood incense.

"Jingyi!" Sizhui shouts, excited and relieved, dropping all decorum to hug his friend over the edge of the bed. Jingyi moves his pupils to his... classmate, equal parts surprised and disgusted.

"Why are you like this?" he asks, cold and disinterested. "Since when do you care?"

Sizhui blinks away unshed tears, a shocked, scared expression on his face. "What do you mean? I've always - I've been here by your bedside all this time! You've been - after you got hit in my place you passed out and -"

"And you left me to die." Jingyi adds, his tone sharp.

"What?! No! Hanguang-Jun carried you all the way to the inn and we've been trying to find a way to break the curse the beast imprinted on you for over a week! We rushed to the Cloud Recesses the moment we realized we couldn't wake you up and Zewu-Jun has been helping us scour the forbidden section of the library for a cure!"

Jingyi listens, but doesn't know whether to believe it or not. Haven't these people... all this time, haven't they treated him like...

"They even - They wrote a new song for you, something to break the curse, like cleansing but much more difficult. Only Hanguang-Jun and Senior Wei can play it, because they need Zewu-Jun to play Cleansing for them after, that's how strong it is!"

What kind of song could that even be...? Why would they risk their lives and their health for...

"They just finished today's session and I've been waiting here to see if you wake up this time. And you did!"

Jingyi blinks a few times, looks around the room, looks at the way Sizhui is almost crying and at how tight he's holding onto Jingyi's hand.

"What... what kind of curse did I get hit with...?"

"One that makes you live your worst fears over and over until you take your life during the illusion... which leads to a powerful qi deviation that... kills you for real..."

"So... everything I just lived through was... not real?"

"No, not at all! We've been so worried whatever you were experiencing would make you break that-"

Sizhui's breath is knocked out of him the moment Jingyi pulls him in an impossibly tight hug. He can't stop his tears from flowing, but this time they're happy, grateful tears that he sheds right into Sizhui's robe.

"It was terrible! All of you, and Hanguang-Jun and Senior Wei acted like I was worthless and an inconvenience and left me and nobody even looked at me, not even the bunnies and-"

The door slides open to reveal Hanguang-Jun and Senior Wei, both visibly worried. "Has Jingyi-"

But their eyes fall on the two hugging friends and immediately rush to check on him. Hanguang-Jun gently takes his wrist to check his meridians, and Senior Wei looks him over carefully before reaching behind Jingyi's head and pulling two needles out of his skin.

"Welcome back among the living!" Senior Wei greets, playful as usual, but his relief is palpable in the soft gaze he sends Jingyi. "How are you feeling?"

"Good." Jingyi smiles, real and bright, "Happy."

"Your qi is balanced, your core filtered out the curse completely." Hanguang-Jun announces, a rare smile on his lips. "I am glad you're alright."

And then Jingyi finds himself embraced by the two, and it's his turn to have his breath knocked out of him.

"Don't ever do this to us again, you little rascal!" Senior Wei chides. "I barely slept at all this past week worrying over my little honorary son!"

"Honorary...son?"

"We consider you part of the family." Hanguang-Jun completes. "If you are alright with that."

A joyful laugh escapes Jingyi, and it's so infectiously happy that everyone joins in.

[azgfggf]

SPOILERS 4 TRIGUN/STAMP/MAX (Basically all Trigun content)

I have so many thoughts on Trigun and all of them are sad because as I see it, Trigun is fundamentally a tragedy, a little through Vash’s own doing.

It’s a noble pursuit to go through a ruined world and try to make it good, but I think the manga, show, and reboot go in too much in his martyr complex for it to be fully believable? Like he started that way for sure, but in all three I think it’s obvious to the audience that he can’t stop. He’s dug himself into a hole of needing to save all these people, because he has nothing else left. The ending of Trimax made me so sad because it’s essentially the beginning of the story all over again. Vash is hunted, Vash is running, and in the span of his lifetime everyone who knows him will be dead. It might even be worse in the anime, because now he has to work to rehabilitate his brother (unstoppable force and immovable object), sacrificing a chance at a relationship with Meryl in continuing his quest for peace at the cost of himself.

One of the most poignant thing about this is Rem’s whole “Ticket to the Future” thing. Lowkey I think Vash misunderstood it, or in some way messed it up. I think, at least on some level, that the ticket to the future was meant for him, specifically in him living his own life post-seeds. But because Vash has already convinced himself the future of others matters more, he’s deliberately ignoring Rems parting wisdom not to blame himself for what Knives did. I love Trigun so much and it’s always near the top of my anime list, but the endings (both manga and anime) just fuck me up because it’s not really an ending at all, just a hitch in the cycle of Vash forgiving everyone but himself. And the one character who he loved more than anyone else, who was the closest to convincing Vash to be a little bit selfish and take care of himself for once, died fighting alongside him. To me, this whole story is just Vash being driven by guilt unable to see the reasoning behind Rem’s words. I don’t know what the endings are supposed to mean, but because of them I’ve always read Trigun as this sort of Sci-fi tragedy where one man bears the sins of an entire world until he dies or they do.

There’s also an interesting parallel between Knives and Vash, both opposite in their ideals but equally determined to get them. Knives only relinquishes when he’s dying, and then Vash continues. He’s clearly tired, as seen with Erik’s, but in a super ironic twist of fate it’s WolfWood who brings him back, and that’s kind of just the nail in the coffin for Vash’s whole journey. He tried to leave, and it failed. WolfWood needed him, and he failed. This, I think, is Vash’s point of no return. He can’t stop, because he’s personally destroyed any way to. He’s built up this idealized Rem that needs him to do this. He’s built up some kind of debt to WolfWood that needs him to do this. He’s built up this persona that needs him to do this. He’s sacrificed himself, his sanity, his friends, and everything else in a self imposed quest for peace that will never end because as soon as it does his entire reason for being is shattered (See episode 25). This post means nothing I just think about these silly men way too much. Please give me more fix it fics. Please. Please.

God I hope TriStamp does the endings justice.

[comingyourlugubriousness]

Happy Birthday Yume Ume: Personal Story (Part 3/3)

Part: 1 / 2 / 3

Leona: Finally, the last question is “If you were to join any dorm other than the Ramshackle or Ignihyde, which dorm would you choose?”

Yume: *quickly, and matter of factly* Scarabia.

Leona: *smirk* Oh? Two in a row? Don’t let Radish sprout hear that.

Yume: *pouting* Shut up, it's not like that! It’s just…ALL THE OTHER CHOICES ARE SO MUCH WORSE!

Leona: *eyes widen at sudden outburst, before lowering again*

Yume: *ranting* You think I wanna deal with the Queen of Hearts dumb rules, or wake up at 6AM for spell drive drills?! 

Leona: It’s 6:30.

Yume: *ignoring his interruption* Honestly I don’t mind the Octavinelle dorm vibes itself; but I would rather DIE than live with Azul as a dorm leader; or have Vil breathing down my back 24/7 about my diet and health, uh- yeah-no thanks-!

Yume: *sighs, mumbling* And no offense to Diasomnia but their weird vibes make me feel like an outsider…

Leona: *Makes a vague noise of approval* 

Yume: Ignihyde would definitely be ideal, but since I can’t pick them Scarabia seems like the best choice. *shrug* I get along well with almost everyone and the dorm's mindset is something I agree with.

Leona: Mindfulness, careful deliberation, planning, considering all your options.*hums* Yeah that’s you to a fault. *crosses his arms, smugly* Maybe you should be there instead of Ignihyde?

Yume: *Immediately shutting it down.* No thanks, I can only take so many banquets and parties before I become exhausted.

-

Bonus question!

Yume: C’mon that last one was too easy, give me another one!

Leona: I’m only contractually obligated to ask two questions.

Yume: Boo~! *whining* C’monnnnn~!

Leona: Augh! Fine, *muttering* snot nosed brat…

Leona: If you could pick any student from Night Raven College to be your sibling, who would you choose? Other than your own siblings.

Yume: *surprised at the question* Huh…oh! Well that’s easy there's already a couple people here besides my brothers, that I consider siblings. *smiles* Like Ortho of course and- *they stop suddenly, seeming to have realized something.*

Leona:...And? 

Yume: A-ah, nevermind, just Ortho. *they seem slightly embarrassed suddenly*

Leona: *raises eyebrow* You're the one who wanted to be asked this question and now you're being secretive?

Yume: Oh well… *they purse their lips and cross their arms in though* *They laugh.* To be honest I’m not sure how this person would react to the idea and…it’s something I never really thought of until now. So, for now, I think I better just keep it to myself.

Leona: *slowly* How they would react…?

Yume: …

Leona: **realizes, his ears stick up** 

Leona: Hmph… *his tail flicks behind him. He looks away.* Well I’m sure they probably would care…but whatever let's move on. *He seems slightly stunned, but not unhappy.*

Yume: Oh man, wait I forgot. This part’s gonna suck isn’t it? *sigh.* Is it at least gonna be tasty?

Leona: *smirk* Guess you’ll find out. *winding up his arm* Are you gonna take your glasses off?

Yume: *dramatically, with grin* No, I’ll take it like a man.

Leona: Heh, suit yourself. *grins back. Leona pulls back his arm and throws. A breaking noise follows.*

The end! It was fun to write this but it took me a while! I find it hard to write dialogue without much description because I feel like so many things get said through actions and body language! Yume and Leona's relationship is fun and complex to write. In my mind, they both feel a sibling bond, but neither of them are really willing to admit it out loud. So it becomes this unspoken understanding over time. I think its a complicated feeling for both of them in different ways. In particular for Leona because in his life he hasn't had a good relationship with his actual sibling.

I hope you guys enjoy it. I'm working creatively on a couple different things but I also have a lot of big complicated events going on in my life right now. So sorry for the slow posts. I appreciate everyone who comments or leaves tags <333!

[redladydeath]

Decided to nail down some backstory concepts for Proto Vox's boss. Tagging @storm-ismyusername and @voxaholic since you two helped me come up with some of this back in October.

Fell in love with a charming older man when she was young (18 or 19). Married him and moved away from the community she’d lived in all her life to join him in his small hometown. Husband ran an apothecary/pharmacy, so she began helping him run it.

Once they were married, her husband turned abusive, hitting her, forcing her to have sex when she didn’t want to, and verbally belittling her. They had four children (3 sons and 1 youngest daughter), who he would occasionally turn his ire on too.

Things remained the same for a little over ten years. Eventually, she reached her breaking point. Desperate and scared, she used her knowledge from years of working in the apothecary to slowly poison her husband. To everyone else, it looked as though he’d just gotten sick, and no one bothered to look any deeper into things when he died.

Her eldest son was too young to inherit the business, so she began managing it herself. She started forming close relationships with the other women in her community, learning about their struggles with their own husbands. Once she realized she was in the clear regarding her husband’s murder, she eventually convinced herself that doing the same to other people’s abusive spouses would be doing them a favor. When one of those men became sick, and their wives came to her, she would lace their medication with poison, slowly killing them. This happened at least twice.

As he aged, her eldest son tried to take on more responsibilities in/control over the apothecary. She refused to let him, insisting that she would take care of it and he should just relax and enjoy his childhood. He began to resent her and slowly became more like his father as he aged. Eventually, as he reached adulthood and their conflict became worse, she convinced herself that she had to kill him too; she’d be doing the world a favor by taking out someone so similar to her dead husband. She successfully poisoned him to death, but given his young age and the way death seemed to follow her, people finally became suspicious.

She was investigated by local law enforcement and was eventually arrested. She either killed herself in prison rather than face execution or died at the gallows. Died believing that everything she’d done had been justified and was outraged when she woke up in Hell.

Manifested as an orchid mantis demon due to the way she used poisonous plants to kill her husband and other men. Sinner name options are “Azalea,” “Belladonna,” and “Lantana.” Eventually became the Overlord of the pharmaceutical industry after Alastor’s first purge in the 1930s.

Was approached by a recently deceased Vox in 1957. He was desperate to get off the streets since he was such an easy target for other sinners. She thought he was adorable and struck a deal with him: she would provide him with a safe place to live in exchange for his services as an entertainer. Vox, too desperate and green to fully think it through (other than refusing to give her his soul), agreed.

Soon, she began to get a sense of what kind of man Vox was beneath his precious exterior— arrogant, self-centered, and entirely too much like the men she had once killed. Despite Vox refusing to tell her much, if anything, about his human life, she started filling in the gaps mentally, making assumptions that weren’t entirely accurate (Vox was verbally/emotionally abusive towards his wife but never beat her or their children). However, instead of killing him, she began deliberately humiliating him and trying to break his spirit/pride. She thought it was cathartic, taking this man with an over-inflated sense of his own importance and treating him like a silly little boy at best, a mindless pet or doll at worst. He deserved to feel like he was nothing. Obviously.

[takerfoxx]

Okay, about halfway through my Evangelion rewatch, and I swear to God this show has taken over my life. Like, even though I've seen it before and recently watched the Rebuild films, it's just clicked with me in a way that hasn't happened in a very long time, and I am loving it.

Anyway.

One thing that I noticed is that while the show gets off on a very depressing note that shines a spotlight on Shinji's problems, from the agony he experiences while piloting the Eva to his crippling depression and everything, once he makes the decision to stay, the tone shifts. Like, all those issues don't really go away fully, but for a little bit, the show gets a lot more lighthearted, becoming almost a traditional giant robots fighting aliens-type show. Shinji's mental health improves exponentially, he forms several healthy relationships, he actually does rather well as a pilot, and things seem to be on the upswing for him.

And then Asuka shows up and...actually, things sort of get better?

Okay, let me explain. The first time I watched this show like fifteen years ago, I couldn't stand Asuka. I thought that she was an entitled, insecure brat, and her treatment of Shinji and Rei was totally uncalled for. However, now that I've experienced this story in both of its entireties, processed all the characters and the complexities of their portrayals, and experienced various interpretations of them through various fanfics, doujins, spin-offs, etc., revisiting the original Asuka that spawned all of these reactions is...honestly, it's not nearly as bad as I remember. Yeah, she's still an insecure brat, but I get it now. And her beef with Shinji and Rei comes from her literally being groomed to be the best Eva pilot imaginable while being traumatized by her mother's suicide, leading her to see the other two pilots as both a threat to her position as well as disappointments for not living up to her standards, hence her hostile treatment of them. Even still, we see that facade crack and she does display moments of genuine kindness and comradery with them.

Also, later events have caused people to view Shinji as something of the most extreme of doormats, but for now, he actually isn't? Like, okay, he's still kind of a pushover, but he does get frustrated, he does push back against Asuka, he does snap and start arguing. At the same time, you can also seem them trying to connect in their highly damaged, kind of awkward ways. It's not working, but you see the attempt, and overall, their dynamic does get played more for laughs and slapstick, at least in the early stages.

Of course, all of that goes out the window later on when everyone gets SOOOO much worse, but for now, it's nice to see these kids' relationship in it's healthiest stage. That scene where they all sit on the hill watching the stars together was honestly adorable, as well as Asuka deliberately eschewing a fancy steak dinner in favor of a trip to a ramen shack so Rei could participate.

As for me being ride or die for a poly ending for this trio, was it at all changed by revisiting the source material? Haha, NOPE! If anything, it was strengthened, given that all three have their unique dynamics with each other instead of the tired cliche of two people fighting over a third and it's all like, "Oh, who will they choose?" Y'ALL HAVE TWO HANDS APIECE!

Though on a more deeply personal side, I think that's why I've had Evangelion infest my mind like it has as of late. I just sort of relate to Shinji, Rei, and Asuka a whole bunch and see aspects of myself in all three, and I just kind of want them to be happy together, but, in this timeline at least, I know that that's not meant to be.

Speaking of complicated characters, Touji and Kensuke certainly are that, because on the one hand, they are kind of best boys in how ride or die they are for Shinji, basically becoming the close friends that he definitely needed and going out of their way to check in on him and support him and stick up for him.

On the other hand, they are also selling creep shots of Asuka and their other female classmates. Like, okay, 90's Japan culture and how that gets played for laughs back then, I get it. Still, not cool, guys. But I guess it just goes with the theme of how these are all messy individuals kind of stumbling their way through their messy lives, and everyone has their good and bad qualities.

Another observations. The virus takeover episode was one of the series' finest, as the whole bottle episode thing where the adults have to solve a unique problem while the pilots were otherwise out of the picture made for a great change of pace and was tense as hell. The dancing episode is a fan favorite for a reason and must've made the AsuShin ship explode early on.

Also, I know that we're supposed to hate the JSSDF because their rep was kind of a jerk to Misato and put down NERV and all (plus the later massacre in the movie), but to be honest, now knowing what we know about NERV and the Evangelions, he was kind of right in everything he was criticizing them about? And the fact that Jet Alone was deliberately sabotaged by NERV in a sort of petty dick-waving contest only puts them in a worse light. Honestly, if the two organizations had actually behaved like adults and cooperated, things might've gone so much better.

But then again, Gendo's got to Gendo, what with SEELE and their whole agenda and everything.

And on a more critical side!

Okay, I've said my piece about all of the weird creep shots in the Rebuild movies and how distracting and, well, uncomfortable they were. Like, okay, I know this whole series is low-key horny, and using Misato for some cheesecake shots, that's fine. But, like I said about Toji and Kensuke's creepy photo business...yeah. It's not as bad as it was in the Rebuild movies, which really took things way over the top, but it's still there.

And honestly, some of it you can get away with. Like, I don't have an issue with the scene between Shinji and Rei in the apartment, or Shinji ogling the girls in their swimsuits, or overhearing Asuka and Misato in the hotspring and having a reaction, because he's a repressed kid full of hormones in a very stressful situation. It makes sense that he would be like that. Same with Asuka's flirty side and how she hangs off of Kaji in a very inappropriate manner. Or Rei's lack of inhibitions. All of these make sense for their characters. I don't even have a problem with how Misato teases Shinji, because she's portrayed as somewhat of an emotionally stunted womanchild.

But when it's not from his or anyone else's point of view and you're just showing fanservice shots of your explicitly underaged characters, it gets kind of, well...

Okay, the point I'm making is...was there like a specific reason for the nude sync test? At all? Did it serve the plot in any way? Yeah, you need them in the plugs to get them out of the way so that the grown-ups could have an episode, but c'mon. Was it really necessary other than to get shots of them naked in their cockpits? Even from a character standpoint, I think Asuka at the very least would have protested more!

I dunno, I know it's a rampant problem in anime and always has been and you kind of need some level of tolerance, but that scene in particular did stand out as a great big, "Why is this happening?" Maybe if it had actually led to something it'd be better, but it didn't.

But Evangelion has always been messy and complicated, and that little bug aside, it's easy to see why it captured so many people's attention when it first came out and still does to this day. Hell, it's definitely consumed my every waking moment as of late.

However, Rei's little existential crisis is any indication, I'm approaching the part where things get really weird, so, that'll be...interesting.

[senka-mesecine]

Something bad happens to Barnes' significant other. Talking an ER, accident, potential loss of life type of close call. How would he react, watching the reader nearly fade? (Sorry, that last one had my mind wandering.) Living in the woods has its risks. 💀

-

I flat out think that if his significant other died he'd either want to die too, feeling that it's inevitable and simply a reality of things so the time might as well be now on his own terms or he'd go back to war, any war, anywhere in the world, wherever a war's being fought in case the one in Vietnam ends and he does so with the intent of total and radical self annihilation, wanting to do so in combat doing what he does best and furthermore, what he likes doing, like a soldier should (or at least a Mercenary). Him seeking out a war to die in would be like a deliberate suicide knell and goddamnit, he'll be crueler than ever before and take as many people as he can right to hell with him, because if you died, they should all categorically die too. And they will die en masse before he drops, believe me, because it'll be an outlet for his fury, sadism and grief, like he's having revenge on the whole wide world. He outright copes with it all by killing others, yes and he isn't even in denial about this fact to himself. He knows. He's aware of it. Feels like that would match his mentality.

But, if his significant other was right there on the verge?

And he's actively witnessing it happen?

I think he'd be keenly fixated on the actual process of them dying because if everyone gotta die sometime, he might as well be fully immersed once it's his significant other's turn once it is established he can't just take over the doctor's job from them (by force) and literally reach into his significant other's guts himself in order to fix them if need be; that's how his mental breakdown in this case manifests --- he wants to be there for all of it to the point of morbidity. Their final breath. The way their eyes roll back. Their last words. Their every shudder, shiver, their pulse and hand going cold. All of it. Is probably there squeezing their arm in a vice grip once their fingers go limp and everyone's too scared to tell the man he shouldn't be in this room right now. Might just get confrontational and violent if someone touches him, you or tries to separate him from you. Starts throwing around hospital equipment and busting up half the hospital? Maybe, yeah. Knocks out several people? Stabs someone or worse? Lands in jail due to the violence? Plausible. Drink himself into stupors? That's a given. Suffice to say, he doesn't take it well whatsoever in spite of his apparent stoicism, in fact, you dying is like the last shred of humanity flushed down the toilet. Gone. And scary thing is, he had extremely little humanity left in the first place. What he had is erased.

How about a close call and they survive?

He strikes me as the 'If you try and nearly die again on me, I'll kill you myself.' types of people, because he has this whole death seeking, grim mentality for everyone, including himself, but it's ironically juxtaposed with the fact he loves someone, namely you, and that him not wanting you to die almost makes him a two faced hypocrite and out here betraying his own philosophies and beliefs, so he covers up the fact by acting angry at the fact you were so careless and clumsy, nearly getting yourself killed, which is merely a (admittedly very toxic) facade to hide his personal hang ups, his grief and how profoundly torn up he was. Suddenly, death isn't just the dark banal 'Well, it happens to everyone eventually. Get over it, shut up and take it.' Suddenly...it's a conflict within him. You get reprimanded, criticized and he talks your ear off on the matter like a drill instructor would; might even brood for a good, long while. But to admit he actually doesn't think a whole ass human being should die, like canon fodder, because it's not their time and because he actually doesn't want them to? Because you're not indispensable to him? In fact, you are everything? Would mean pissing on everything he's ever espoused up until now. He'd be revealing a weakness left, right and center to the source of his weakness themselves. Oof, so yes, tough thing to ever acknowledge because it would also mean acknowledging he was wrong in ways. So, he doesn't. You recover from your fatal accident here thinking Barnes is somehow offended at your ineptitude and pissed off that you weren't taking better care, but in actuality, man's whole world was about to extinguish and he didn't like how that felt whereas he's been bringing and advocating death for everyone else for ages. Except now? Last thing he ever wants to experience is your death, contrary to everything he's ever stood for. Would quite literally rather end himself first or end you (or end you and him both) and at least have some control and say over how and when it happens. At least then he'd be the one who's done it to you instead of some bullshit, freak accident. Yeah, death comes for everyone and it's inevitable, but in your case, might as well be him.

He's quite literally be the living definition of 'He's so in love, he's gone insane. Well...even more insane.'

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

*jingles keys infront of your face*

Hi guys

Having a strange night again but I suddenly remembered Frank Sinatra exists and my brain went nuts for a second and I remembered one very specific song that reminds me of Angel Dust and also this brings me to my topic of how to write what Episode 4 was trying to do without being shit.

Song for your listening pleasure~

Alright *cracks knuckles* let me tell you how my brain is working.

Poison is meant to sound like a generic romance pop song about a bad relationship on the surface but the audience is supposed to know it’s about something much worse. Now lets flip that around real quick.

“My Way Of Life” is a romance song.

At least I think it is? I’m under the aromantic umbrella and I don’t pick up on this stuff good.

BUT try listening to the song while imagining the wording to be more hostile and literal.

A few standout ones are these in my opinion

—————

Gotta have you near all the time, with your dreams wrapped up in mine.

Gotta be a part of your soul and your heart all the time.

You are my way of life.

The only way I know.

I’ll never let you go.

Because “I love you so.”

You are my way of life.

The only way I know.

Make me your way of life.

Don’t ever go.

Nothing in the world that I do means a thing without you.

Im just half alive, in my struggle to survive without you.

Never let you out of my sight.

Be it day.

Be it night.

You belong to me.

That’s the way it has to be; wrong or right.

—————

Colour coding this by which characters I feel represents these best by the way. Angel-ish ones are pink and Valentino ones are red.

When you look at them in a tone like that with certain lines being possessive, and fake (ie. “I love you so”) and the others being despairing, self-loathing, you can hopefully see how I mistook this for a much more unhappy song when I first heard it.

If you look at a song like this thats so dramatic and intense and full of emotion, it’s going to be better than some generic pop song like 99% of the time. The music also make sense for the time period Angel died since Sinatra was popular in the 1940-1950’s which I personally think adds more.

How I imagine some kind of music video for this would play out, I’ll probably end up storyboarding it sometime, but bear with me till I do. would be a lot of Angel doing day to day things and tapping more into what ADDICT did with flashbacks and hallucinations and so on without shoving rape in our faces. I touched on this in my original Episode 4 rant so I’m going to vaguely recap on that. There are times where very simple things can trigger unpleasant memories, I think everyone knows that. But for some reason, Vivzie seems to think the only way to show SA actually happened is to deliberately show us since every other character thats been sexually assaulted or sexually abused has it played off as a joke. Yes I am fucking talking about Sir Pentious.

Angel having a flashback or hallucination doesn’t have to be of it happening. It can be something as simple as sitting next to Valentino. Someone pronouncing something the same way Valentino would. A specific piece of trash on the floor like a cup showing up somewhere else. Reminders can be tiny have a massive impact. Sometimes reminders for shit I’ve experienced is something as small as a hat, water, or a nickname. Even a day of the month can be nerve wracking.

Im about to start listing a bunch of ideas and stuff so this may end up being the entire song, brace yourself for reading all this.

0:00-0:32

I feel like this would start with Angel in his room staring at a wall, probably drinking after work.

“Gotta have you near all the time with your dreams wrapped in mine.”

Is less of a willing “gotta” and more of a “I can’t do anything else.” with the talk of dreams alluding more to the fact that Angel’s original wants from the contract are long gone and noting that Valentino is controlling his career, future, needs, wants, “privileges”.

“Gotta be a part of your soul and of your heart all the time.”

Is once again about the contract of Angel’s soul.

0:33-0:51

“Nothing in the world that I do means a thing without you.”

In the original song I assume this is meant to be like “Life is so dull without you” but for the way I hear this song, it sounds a lot more like “Nothing that I do holds any meaning without your name attached to it.” in a kind of corporate way. I imagine this part with Angel walking down the street and seeing posters of himself but all of them have credits to Valentino somewhere on them. Angel likes his job but obviously the job that he previously enjoyed has turned into a dangerous and traumatic one. Posters like this can both be seen as a reminder that Angel is no longer in control of his own life and as some kind of intrusive thought like “I’m only famous because of you. I gave up everything for this.” AKA Valentino manipulating his way of thinking about his situation.

“I’m just half alive in my struggle to survive without you.”

Once again calling back to Angel’s contract. This part to me is more of what I stated in another rant I did a while ago. Honestly if I ever did this it’d likely take place after or during season 2 under the assumption Valentino dies. This is more of what I said in the linked post, but it’s a lot of Angel processing everything that’s happened to him. Everything suddenly hitting him all at once. “Struggle to survive without you” doesn’t mean that Angel is struggling because Valentino is gone, health struggling because he was there in the first place. Angel is dealing with and processing severe trauma and judging by ADDICT, dealing with vivid flashbacks and hallucinations as well.

0:52-1:15

A lot of this section reminds me of how I processed my emotions when I first realised that I had control over my own life again and I feel like Angel would feel very similarly to how I did.

“You are my way of life. The only way I know.”

After so many years of sticking to this strict regime, enduring so much pain and stress, it’s so hard to just suddenly snap out of it. That was your reality for years and it’s over, but everything that happened is still clinging to you so harshly it feels like its still happening, but when you prepare for a previous habit you picked up from that time and it doesn’t happen it can be so jarring it’s terrifying that you’re still so used to it. My best example in this setting is going to hang up a call and saying “Hey I have to go do something” and you expect to have to lie about why you’re leaving or prepare for the other person to get mad and then they just. Don’t. And you can hang up normally. I know some people wont get this but that kinda stuff is such a specific feeling of realisation.

“You are my way of life. I’ll never let you go.”

Can be taken as either Angel talking to himself; saying he’ll never let the memories and trauma from Valentino go because it’s so engrained into his mind, or, as Angel remembering Valentino explicitly stating he will never let him go. Even if Valentino is dead by this time, it could still be done with a flashback or auditory hallucination like Angel had in Episode 2.

I don’t think I’ll be diving into this entire song, but it really hit something in my brain. I had to quickly sketch a possible frame for a video if I did ever make one:

It’s a bit basic, but hopefully you see what I’m going for. This was for the 0:52-1:15 section mostly, but I can see it being used in various other places.

I hope this was at least a little bit interesting for you all and if not at least maybe I could introduce you to a really good Frank Sinatra song! Usually my really long posts like this don’t get much traction, but I hope this one at least sees a glimpse of daylight because it really is an interesting idea to me. If you have any thoughts, questions, or ideas for this please tell me I love when you guys ask me stuff. I am hopefully going to knock out now because it’s 2:44 AM at the time of writing this, so whenever I post this, please enjoy.