#making it a read more since it is long and rambling

[biancadoes1]

Hi Bianca,

You don't have to post this if you don't want to. I woke up yesterday and realised I needed a break from sm. I was getting more annoyed by the things I was seeing.

The more I look at everything the more staged it all seems to be for all of them. Most of them are actors but don't seem to be able to get the job done. It looked like they took notice of all the comments that people made about previous outings. Then acted on them to make it appear as if it was legit. The only thing off was Jake not seeming to be able to look her in the eye. We all know she is comfortable holding hands with all of her friends and touching them.

In an interview both of them said they would find it hard to be disingenuous. Which now seems to be in my opinion exactly what both Nicola and Luke are doing. They are coming across as not very nice. I do think there is other stuff in the background we will never know but hope it ends soon.

I still don't for one second believe the narrative they are putting out there but it is very frustrating at the same time. I am 99% certain there will be a good outcome. If I am wrong, life will go on as normal.

Hopefully she will stop playing with people trying to hide the picture on her phone now. There is nothing wrong with having your friend there no matter what capacity that friend is. I think we all liked the fact that the original photo was one we liked.

I have been on the ship since season one which feels like a long time with lots of highs and lows but it has been fun for the most part.

I enjoy your blog and your comments and hope you continue doing it. Thanks for taking the time to read this long ramble.

Better times ahead.

Listen, I feel optimistic about this.

I want yall to understand that I don’t normally feel that way in this fandom. I usually lean on the negative side with most things (not in general life but with this) we see but I’m feeling optimistic with this because I really do think we’re at the tail end of whatever shit has been going on.

A lot of this could be CAA involvement and with the huge media push, that’s likely what it is, but I still believe this narrative can successfully be reversed because they’re not talking.

Everyone can see it’s fake. Next week, this shit will be old news if it’s already old news. They can bury it, the HP comment will be gone, and they can continue on.

This is not sustainable, whatever the fuck is going on and I still think there’s a deadline at play with the sides.

[chaoticallykinkygrem]

James cloning himself to fuck Reg "properly"🤭

- 🕊

DOVE HOW IS YOUR BRAIN SO GOOD?!

I’m gonna combine this with your other ask of regulus crying during sex and it turning James on as well!! Sorry for the wait dove ❤️

I actually read a fic like this once (idk remember what it was called sadly) so I’m gonna take minor inspiration from that.

TW: Minor selfcest || NSFW

James found a book hidden in the dark recesses of the black family library. He knew most of the books back there weren’t of much help to him but this one was interesting. This book was about pleasing your pureblood spouse to get the best heirs. Apparently it used to be believed that the best babies, and therefore heirs, were born to people who orgasmed at least once a day. The book must have been hidden after it was found out that this wasn’t true but some of the information and spells in it were interesting to say the least. Specifically one spell. A spell that would create a double of the caster for however long the caster needed. It would be created with a specific intention in mind and was often used when husbands had to leave their wives for a day or two. Now though… now James has a fun little idea for this spell. 

James tries the spell out one day he knows regulus will be gone for a few hours. His intention is simple “Fuck me like you would fuck regulus”. That’s how James finds himself laying on his bed, legs spread wide, being held up by an identical copy of himself that’s currently fucking into him. That’s is until they hear the door open and see regulus walk through.

“….James what the fuck is happening?” Regulus asks in a tone James knows only means trouble for him. He kicks the other James away (or Jamie as he’s been calling him) and quickly gets up, rushing towards his husband.

“It’s not what it looks like I swear!”

“It looks like I just walked in on you getting fucked by yourself. You have ten seconds to explain before you both loose your dicks.” He watches as regulus crosses his arms, closing himself off to James with his body.

James takes in a deep breath before rambling, “I found a book in your library that was about pleasing your spouse and honestly most of it was bullshit but there was this one spell about cloning yourself and I thought it would be fun to try out with you since I know youve been thinking about having threesomes recently but I didn’t know if it would actually work so I decided to test it out while you were gone and let me just say love wow does that spell work-” James gasps when he’s done, having not taken a breath while rambling. Jamie continues to watch from the bed, stroking his cock and eyeing regulus hungrily.

Regulus takes a moment to process then begins to laugh at his husband’s stupidity. James watches, smiling to himself, before stepping closer to regulus.

“I’m sorry for not telling you and I’m sorry for not including you. Can I fix it now?” His voice lowers as he kisses his husbands neck, looking for forgiveness he knows he’ll find.

—

Regulus groans as Jamie pulls him closer by his hips, making him fuck himself on his tongue. He clings to the james in front of him while rocking his hips against the face of the James below him.

“That’s it baby. Fuck I’ve always wondered what you look like when you ride my face and it’s even better than I could have imagined.” James says while guiding his hips more before slapping his ass teasingly. “Do you want me to fuck you love? I can fuck your perfect cunt while Jamie fucks your face-”

Regulus whines while nodding in response, moving his cunt harder against Jamie’s tongue. “So close-” He pants out, holding onto James tighter.

“Cum on his face for me baby. Cum for me and I promise I’ll fuck you so good.”

Regulus cries out as he cums on Jamie’s tongue, soaking his lips with it while still being forced to grind down by James’ hands. Once he stops shaking, James picks him up and moves him off of Jamie, who lays there looking blissed out. James moves him like a doll into the perfect position, him on his hands and knees facing Jamie’s hard, leaking cock.

“Here’s what you’re gonna do baby” James growls in his ear while rubbing against his cunt from behind. “You’re going to let Jamie use your throat while I use this pussy. We’re not stopping until we’re satisfied and you’re crying. Sound good love?”

Regulus bites back a moan as he nods his head in understanding. That seems to be all the confirmation James needs as he slowly sinks into regulus, grabbing his hair and pushing him towards Jamie’s crotch. Jamie lets regulus get used to the feeling of having both his mouth and cunt full before he begins to thrust in time with James. Regulus can’t do much besides take it and so he does, moaning and whining the whole time as both James’ speed up and thrust harder. Before long, Regulus has tears in his eyes from overstimulation that fall with each thrust.

“You look so beautiful right now love. So wet and open for me and Jamie-” James grunted as he pulled regulus in by the hips with each thrust. “Gonna cum in this tight pussy baby- fucking make it sloppy and full of me just like you-”

Regulus feels his own pleasure bubbling up in his core. Can feel his thighs shaking and his cunt clenching around the thick cock currently working him open. He doesn’t even try to warn the James before he slips into pure bliss, falling off that edge and into the abyss of pleasure. He must have blacked out, for when he regains the ability to think, Jamie has cum on his face and he can feel even more cum slowly dripping down his thighs onto the bed below. With nothing holding him up anymore, he collapses onto the bed just as Jamie evaporates into thing air, leaving behind an exhausted Regulus and a James more than happy to take care of his husband.

[linkbetweenlinksau]

I noticed the slight style change in Wars' scarf (from before you actually started LBL and then where we are currently) and so I was wondering.......

What was the og design for your Links? And then how did it change to how it is right now?

I thought that would be an interesting ask, so here you go!

I hope you ready for a big load of yapping Anon cuz I have many things to say about their older designs 🙏

So we’ll start with Sky!

Old design on the left and new design on the right. He had a cape LU style, baggier clothes, and had the loftwing feather attached to his earring. I have the skyloftians wear their loftwing’s feathers because it lets them feel closer to them when they’re separated from them on the surface! The thing about this design was that not only was it impractical, but it was also suuuuper annoying to draw and color. Idk if you read the old comic from before but that helped me know that his loftwing feather was driving me insane haha. The cape as well was super annoying and while baggy clothes fits Sky, it didn’t seem smart for him to have that. He was also 5’0” because I wanted him to be older than twi but shorter than him. When I redid Lbl I thought about what I hated about his design while drawing it and changed it around

I made him 5’5” so I wouldn’t have to make his Zelda super short (she’s 5’3”) and he’s definitely one of the “taller” Links. I put the sailcloth and loftwing feather at his belt so they were out of the way. I also gave him bracers that kept his baggier sleeves out of the way and yeah! Still not the most practical thing ever but this is fiction and idc 🙃I’m a little sad about the loftwing feather tho cuz I always wanted him to have a long feather on his earring since I first designed him but oh well. It’s for my own sanity haha. I still kept his more “comfier” clothes and his lightning scars hehe 😈 so yeah!

The rest of the ramblings are under here:

Minish also underwent a lot of changes:

Older design on the left and newer one on the right.

The old design not bad but it’s kinda plain to me. Being a blacksmith he has an apron and gloves, and I always imagines mc Link with curly hair. I do love his headband and I think it’s super neat, but that’s really it. It’s just plain and when he has no apron it’s even more plain. So I changed it to the newer one!

He still has curly hair and his headband but he has no more apron. His tunic is meant to resemble a Minish but I kept the golden outline for some pizzazz. I gave him back his blue eyes which are very integral to his sprite in mc imo and I changed his nose shape to match his grandpa’s and that’s probably my favorite change about him. I love his nose very much and it makes him look very unique. I kept his gloves but I also added some iron-toed boots just so metal doesn’t break his toes lol. And I always had the square belt buckle on him. It’s very fun exploring different ways to do that swirly belt buckle! I also made his tunic dark green so it’d look better. Overall I love his newer design!

Old on the left, new on the right. Time didn’t change too much but he did enough for me to talk about it! His shirt darkened to match his old tunic, gave him the gauntlets for something interesting to look at, changed his collar shape, and I changed his eye color! This actually happened after I made the newer drawing XD I changed his eye color to match Twi’s :) also I untucked his shirt. Idk why. I thought it’d look better so we’ll see lol.

Twi changed a LOT, and by a lot I mean his colors lol. I had a plan where he was going to be pale with dark brown hair to show that he isolated himself and stayed inside after tp, and lbl helped him heal and he was able to look like he went outside again. Buuuuut I changed it for my own sanity cuz that would’ve been so hard to do well lol. So the newer design has the colors he was going to get in the old lbl. Truthfully the old backstory doesn’t fit what I have in mind anymore anyways so it makes sense for him to be tan in the new one. I also added more battle stuff for him including bracers, that sleeve thing, and actual clothes that match ordon lol. I did keep the Ordona symbol tho cuz it’s cool. But yeah, other than that there wasn’t too much of a change in his actual clothes! I did give him dimples tho :> you just can’t see it

Four changed quiet a bit as well. As least when he’s merged. He used to have armor but I thought giving him a full thing of armor when he was only 14 was kind of odd so I instead took out most of the armor. I also made his colors more neutral cuz I loved the idea that Four’s colors were more white and brown to show the colors merging. But honestly i don’t like the look of it haha 😅 it makes more sense for all of the colors to be on Four anyways since it resembles the colors never fully merging so honestly I miiiight switch the colors… but anyways. I did keep the braid flower thing cuz many liked that as did I, and I changed his eye color to match the actual eye color of the colors. They will change depending on who’s in control! But yeah, change in colors 🙃 might change it again idk. I just don’t like the tan and brown haha.

I went through a whole thing with windy because he was originally gonna be 17 or 18. He was gonna be an adult. But I didn’t like that and changed him to being 14! The issue with that tho was that he looked too old in his old design. The blue lobster and coat that resembled Linebeck’s just didn’t fit him anymore so I decided to lean more into his green tunic and played with colors to get him his new design! Which I love a lot! It’s just a little more boyish with nice colors of sea foam green that I like, and it definitely fits his younger aura. That could easily have something to do with how I drew his face tho haha. The old design had the blue lobster cuz that’s what everyone else was doing and I thought the coat would be a cut homage to Linebeck. Including a gossip stone. Also no boots cuz idk, I like it. Makes it easier on me haha. And his scar is a little less healed in the new design than the old one :) it’s very clear that I decided to do what I wanted to do with his design instead of doing what I thought people wanted, and I love his newer design now. Should be easier to draw too!

Left drawing was the first design of Age, and there’s some things I do kinda like. For starters the cape is very neat and would definitely mark him as a champion, but that’s about all I like haha. His short hair is fine but it doesn’t make sense for him to cut it, the armored pieces are a pain to draw and the colors were hard to work with. So I got rid of the cape cuz I figured it’d be harder to draw and wasn’t super practical, changed the tunic color and his hair color to match canon, and gave him more simple bracers and boots. The thing about Age tho is that I don’t like his design. Same issue with Four honestly. It’s not satisfying and I wish I took the time to play with his design more instead of jumping in, so I might play with his design a bit more, might do something with the cape. But I did add Mipha’s scale to show that they’re a thing <3 and lastly he used to be 5’5” but I didn’t like that so I moved him down to 5’0”. He’s taller than Wild to show that the shrine of resurrection stunted Wild’s height (but honestly my Age did technically use the shrine of resurrection so) but he’s not absurdly taller than him haha. but yeah, i don’t like either of his designs 😔

Wild’s overall design didn’t change too much cuz I did like the champion’s tunic with the Hateno clothes on top of it, but something that I do wish I kept was that his hair can’t grow back on some parts of his head, leaving him bald. I might still keep it but it’ll be very well hidden under that mane of hair haha. I dropped the braid and let his hair flow beautifully in the wind, and smae with Age, changed the hair and tunic color! I wanted him and Age to both have the champion’s tunic so that they know that they’re technically the same :) luckily Wild has a lot of outfits so I can honestly play with the clothes whenever I want hehe.

And as you mentioned, Wars went through a lot of change too! Just like Wind I played with some ideas for him cuz I wasn’t vibing with his design. He and Sky are the only ones I had in the older lbl comic so I was able to know what I did and didn’t like about his design! I liked his tunic design for sure, and it’s still there, but the cape was kinda lame to me. It wasn’t fancy, had a bad color, and I hated the overall shape. He has his hat here but he was always going to lose it. So keeping everything else I decided to try to explore the scarf again and tried to find a style I liked. I didn’t want it to be like the game, and I wanted it to look unique to him, and eventually I settled on the big triangle shaped scarf! Makes him look more dynamic and I changed the colors so they’d look better, and I do really like his newer design! He didn’t go through much change, but it was enough to keep me satisfied! I do wish his Diamond clip was on his back like how it is in the game but oh well, I wanted it to look like some sort of Medal of Honor 🤷‍♀️ my beloved

And that’s about all the big changes! I didn’t include everyone cuz they either didn’t change much or they didn’t have old designs. Like Hyrule did change a bit with his design now having a turtleneck rather than a V-neck, but that’s about it. I don’t think Legend’s design changed at all (I love his design) and Totem and Rift weren’t in the older era of lbl :) I do need to draw refs for them tho augh. Spirit too didn’t change all that much and I don’t have room to include everyone haha. But yeah that’s what changed about them! I like the changes a lot (kind of) and I hope they won’t kill me when I draw the comic :’D I know wolf Link is giving me grief, mostly his colors.

But yeah, thank you for this ask! I love rambling about this stuff!! XD especially comparing old lbl to new lbl :)

[veilody]

Hii! First ask here hehe ✨️

Anywho, you can ignore this if you want but if it's okay, may I ask why you don't like Mira? I saw a post or two mentioning it, and I've always been curious bc I really like reading about others' opinions and that kind of stuff in fandoms I'm in but was very nervous to ask, haha-

Hope you're having a good day/night! :>

Ohh~ Hi there~!

I don't mind you asking and I didn't just want to ramble about her out of the blue haha~ so thanks for the ask xD This is gonna be LONG-

Gotta state that here though Triggerwarning for Attempted SA, Violence and Sexualisation.

I won't show pictures of those specific things though - just mention the arcs it happened in.

In short:

Mira Kim is a very badly written character, who never developed negatively nor positively throughout the entire series and she used to be a Major Involvement in the first ~300 Chapters. So I'd expected her to grow. Like, I don't like Joy either, but she was minor enough so that the lack of growth and personality never bothered me.

Long version:

As I said, she was a Major character for a long time. Many conflicts revolved around her and she has been the moral compass for Zack since the start - until his growth was tied to Johan. (for the better)

She has been depicted as so pretty that many men couldn't hold themselves back and has almost been raped TWICE (Autumn Bootcamp Arc 41-45, Cult Arc (Johan introduction) 132-138), she has been harassed by an old friend from church (Zacks Date Arc 73-74), been used for Jasmines Money Making Scam (Runaway Family Arc 219-231) and harassed by strangers on the train (Hostel Branch Arc 255-257)

You would think, that all of this should have a lasting effect on such a young girl. ESPECIALLY what happened during the Cult Arc because she was much younger.

But you never see her reacting to any of these repetitive situations in any way a girl would who's been confronted with that so often. Instead, she's still selfless, like no matter if she's been humiliated by Logan Lee (Troubled Transfer 123-126) she comes back and defends Zack, so that he doesn't fight. In the Runaway Family, when Her, Zoes, Joys and Marys pictures have been stolen and used for a perverted scam she's not phased about the situation unlike the other girls. Joy probably had this situation for the first time, Zoe has been through sexualisation before and Mary throws a tantrum and takes matters in her own hands like a Queen. In this case though: I give Mira my benefit of the doubt, that she handles the stress by caring for others and not trying to be in the spotlight.

Still I would've like to see her having more emotions about the whole thing - even just a stressed out sighing out after it all ended rather than this blank smile:

I would've loved for her to show real human emotions, instead of always being this "angelic character" that is basically "perfect" with her morals and all that. Especially since this angelic image feels hypocritical: During Exposition Arc (1-10) she judges little Daniel at first sight and swoons over Big Daniel at first sight too. This behaviour repeats itself during the Autumn Bootcamp Arc, when she stays away from the "ugly" Councelor Won Bin and prefers to follow the "pretty" one Heemin Kim - who tries to force herself on her and it is Won Bin who saves her.

Hm...

You would say that her demeanor afterwards changed, because she's the one who gave Jasmine Huh the benefit of the doubt. And maybe that's the teeny tiny growth she had? But honestly: it would CRUSH me if I tried to change my behaviour and then get used like this.

I don't know, maybe her faith as a Christian helps her through all these situations - that something I just personally cannot relate to but maybe someone else can? I grew up in a strict christian household before my mom fled with me and my sibling. Afterwards I chose to be an atheist, so- There's that

Yet that brings me to Zack - and I love Zack A LOT actually, his character development is PEAK. But something left me pause for a moment lately was his outburst "I am catholic" (Busan Arc 530 - 548) - even though it was always canon that he is not faithful (Cult Arc) and later he seemed like he found reason in Buddhism after he trained with Gongseob Ji (441-516) and suddenly after he had spent time with Mira he's back to being a Christian?

Very Personal: As someone who grew up surrounded by Christians, that gives me icky feelings srsly. Not once but twice the people around me wanted me and my sibling to follow an even stricter and weirder ruleset - like the Baptist Church and whatever "other belief" cult my paternal grandparents followed. With rulesets like women HAVE to wear skirts and dresses, but all modest, and preventatives are frowned upon. In both cases a horrible purity-society that will shame girls and women regardless. I'm glad my mom was shutting down these people and we were already able to say no. (there's still a lot more depth to that all but I leave it here.)

Back to Zack and Mira: At first I found their little cat and mouse thing charming, but the longer it stretched the more sad it became for Zack. Especially seeing that she gets jealous when he interacts with other girls like Yui (Paprika TV Arc 28-33) or if he swoons about an actress (Zacks Date Arc)

So these two apparently see each other as a romantic interest. Since. The. Start. And we're now 550+ in and they're still not official. Zack STILL just looks in her direction and it's starting to look troublesome in my opinion. At this point Zack is romantically so focused on her that it borders on obsession. If she doesn't want to enter a relationship with him, he needs to accept that. If she's keeping him on the border of his seat but never moves to start a relationship with him despite knowing better than anyone else how much he yearns to be romantically involved with her: I call asshole.

I can imagine that PTJ keeps Zack single for now, to give fanservice and what not. I mean it obviously sells. But the whole romantic situation among the three childhood friends seems so out of place after all this time. Can't they just be three friends after all and just NOT wreck their heads over who's with who? Also I'd wager that Zacks and Johans reestablished friendship could suffer if ANY of these two enter a romantic relationship with Mira.

IN CONCLUSION

Mira could've been a much deeper character than she turned out to be. I would've loved to see her having anxiety, struggles or even ONE breakdown after everything that happened to her. Or maybe becoming a coward and having a negative character arc would've made so much sense? I also can't believe that she's handling a heavily injured Zack and Johan this cool (Hunt for Gun Arc 517) after ALL THE TIME scolding Zack not to fight. Like girl, be WORRIED about your friend endangering themselves - it kinda flattened her already flat personality even more.

If we compare Zoe and Mira's growth over the time of the manwha it gets really apparent that Zoe had a positive growth and Mira? Well, Mira is Mira.

EVEN Mary (Queen) Kim had a growth and I am NOT counting the cheongliang arc for this rn. In the first arcs she was more of a reactive to Vin Jins bullshit, sometimes there and sometimes not. In all honesty? She was insignificant at first. But! Nowadays she's the one who calls Vin out on his Bullshit and gives him consequences at school. From a reactionbot to QUEEN MARY KIM.

At this point this specific character gets me to roll the eyes whenever she appears. The only thing I hope from now on (because you can't change the past) is that she's kept minor enough, so I can start to overlook the problems I have with her.

Idk if I just have a way to objective perspective on the whole matter? I.e. Those assholes like Logan Lee, Kitae Kim, Taejin - they're all horrible - but they have me intrigued on what makes them tick the way they do. Also I can curse on them and say they're a well written character because each of them is made to be antagonised. And... I can't hate well-written Characters. That they commit heinous acts is absolutely necessary for the story and how they affect our protagonists is: CHEFKISS.

Or I see many people hating on Gapryong Kim, while he really has me on the edge of my seat. I want to know how the world was in the Pre-Gen (we know by now that organised crime was peaking during that time and the Yamazaki were behind that), why he chose to prioritize his gang over his family and if there was some part of him regretting his choices? Maybe when he lay dying?

[mackeralsauce]

a very long dive into cuttletavio feat. my personal opinions and viewpoints as someone with an insane fixation on the ship.

hello fellow cuttletavio freaks... since the fandoms been propping up more lately i kind of want to talk about my views on the ship and share them, but the problem is, i'm kind of scared to?

it's not necessarily that i want to be unfriendly/antisocial, but moreso this particular ship has a certain *history* to it (which i won't go into) and so making friends in the community seems scary!

this is going to be a long, long discussion/ramble on my views of the ship (their dynamics, etc.) which i don't really think will be read much but that's okay! i just wanted to put my thoughts out there and see how it goes. the full ramble is under the cut.

I've made a post before on the whole 'compare and contrast' aspect of the characters of Craig Cuttlefish and Octavio Takowasa, and that still applies to my views of them. I think the aspect of coming together despite their differences is important to the core of the ship. It is also important to the themes of Splatoon.

Splatoon- as a series- has a running theme of humanity, its mistakes, and its nature. The inkfish of the series, for all intents and purposes, have inherited the good and bad of humanity. This allows for a very complex view of the characters, especially in focus to the past. However, from what I've seen, it appears a lot of people tend to have a very narrow view of Craig and Octavio. They tend to split them into one of two camps:

Total Good, or Total Evil.

This narrow black-and-white view of the characters ends up bleeding into the ship usually. I tend to see people in the groupings of 'fluffy, wholesome ship' and 'toxic, abusive old man yaoi'. Both of these are somewhat disappointing (though the latter upsets me most, we'll get into why later) and dilute it to such a flat view. I know this is to be expected, since that's how fictional works are oft taken, but it does bother me since I care so deeply about the topic.

I'd say the 'toxic yaoi' view is the worse of the two. Am I saying the characters should always be happy, without angst? Absolutely not! It's perfectly normal for couples to argue and have spats. What I refer to is when the ship is distilled into these mere tropes (often associated with BL writing and such), where they're genuinely abusive, where the 'toxicity' is the main aspect of it. I can't stop anyone from having that perspective on the characters, but it really doesn't befit either of them in the slightest.

In my personal opinion- formed from character analysis and lore research-, they would be a healthy but complex relationship. As people, they are neither good nor bad. They want to be good people, they try, but they make mistakes along the way. These mistakes vary based on their own personal vices and virtues. We'll start with a discussion of that, their ideologies.

Craig Cuttlefish- keeping in mind that the NOA localization sucks balls- is a hopeful man that pursues an ideal of good. He's shown in-canon to care for his family, to be of artistic talent, and to pursue order. Through interviews, he's revealed to have always wished for peace. Based on these, I'd say he's somewhat of a hopeless romantic, with a strong attachment to his moral compass. I'd go as far to associate him with anti-war political beliefs and a certain 70s hippie charm to him.

Octavio Takowasa, on the other hand, is shown to be of a rebellious nature. Boisterous, loud, proud. He's shown in-canon to care for the greater good of his people, and that his allegiance is with chaos. His character tends to be misinterpreted less (from what I've seen), but many still tend to fall for the basic pitfalls of mischaracterization with him. As his kabuto symbolizes he likely leads a Shogunate-type society, we can infer he's of a strong, built mannerism, and likely was born into that militaristic structure. Despite this, I think he pursued peace in spite of his predecessors' rule.

Why does this 'order v. chaos' theme matter? It's because it can reveal their strengths and short-fallings. Craig is bound to his sense of justice, but it can be to a fault. Organized, operational, but would falter if his plans were broken. Octavio is able to go with the flow, ever-changing. He's a beacon of progress yet this also serves to his recklessness. Craig helps to ground Octavio, whilst Octavio helps to lift Craig up. They are, in essence, inseparable.

This DOES lead to arguments and falling-outs, but I do NOT think it would've escalated to that of 'toxicity'. They are mature adults. I don't think what happened at the Siege of Arowana was intentional, nor do I think they had it in them to hurt each other. I don't think they grew 'bitter' towards each other. Any hateful feelings were likely towards the leader of Inkadia's military or nation, towards the ones moving the pawns. It's unlikely Octavio started the war; not without being provoked. With Craig's behaviors, in-canon, I find it unlikely to be his fault.

If I were to go deeper-in with my personal theories, I'd liken that Inkadia as a nation is closest to Western Ideologies (which, does track, the whole haikara vs bankara thing). This is hinted at by mentions of inkling hedonism in pre-war times, which proves still present in the consumerist tendencies of modern Inkopolis. This doesn't mean that *everything* from western nations like the United States translates historically to Inkadia, but we can infer how this influence relates to the war and geopolitical tensions of the pre-war period.

It's already pretty obvious that the Sunken Scrolls are propaganda. From both sides, to be exact. The Octarian propaganda is obvious to us, the player, because we play as inklings in Splatoon 1. However, many people seem to not use the same thinking for the inkling historical sources in the scrolls. Those are likely influenced by propaganda too. This brings me to a topic I like to emphasize quite often (including in my fic... hi Ruse Theory fans!!): history is written by the winners of war.

The sunken scrolls state things like the war was started by rising tides, and that the inklings won due to 'superior number of limbs'. While I think the tides were *partially* true because of the Splatlandian scrolls mentioning a great flood, I don't think thats the whole story. We know the Zapfish are valuable to Inkadia. We also know that Bluefin Depot is a coal mine, Craig did something in Bluefin Depot during the war, and coal is a pollutive source of energy. Zapfish- so far- seem to be more of an efficient source.

Where am I going with this? The war had most likely been a power/resources battle, with the floods a further excuse for suddenness of attacking a previously-allied nation.

This ties into the ship because it clarifies the reasons for the war, and how much control they had in the manner. As far as we know, Craig's lowest rank in the early times of the war was that of Second Lieutenant. He wouldn't have been even close to calling those shots. As for Octavio, the waters are a bit muddied.

Shogunate Governments typically rule temporarily during wartime, but we also never hear of any other form of Octarian rulership. This can be excused with the fact that Splatoon's inkfish don't directly copy human culture. It's likely that the Octarians could have discovered remnants of human culture in the bunkers (pre-war, whilst exploring the continent), and simply emulated some of the elements discovered. In this case, the Octarians would have a Shogun who also serves the role of 'Emperor' as well.

Keeping this in mind, while Octavio serves over a military-type government, I don't think he started the war. Since Octarian tech RELIES on Zapfish, I believe they had claim over most of the Zapfish habitats in Inkadia's landmass. Therefore, we can sort of tie together how things escalate from there.

I think that even during the war, Craig and Octavio were in love. I don't think they ever broke up, neither, since Craig likely assumed the Octarians would take a quick victory. You could also infer some espionage-related activities but that bleeds more into the theoretical so I won't go into that. If there were some kind of separation, Octavio would have declared it out of worry more than distaste.

Keeping this in mind, I really think Craig and Octavio had a genuine love that bared no intention of hurting the other. If Octavio wanted Craig dead, he'd of taken care of that by now, even as old men. He's still very-much capable. Craig could have likely done the same, too, as he's shown to be resilient even in old age. There is a tragicness to the circumstances of their environment but they love all the same through it all.

What does this all mean? Craig and Octavio had a beautiful, brilliant love, stifled due to a war declared out of their hands. They loved so truly and openly, and planned on things to go smooth after a quick win. Unfortunately, the tables turned, and they got the wrong end of the stick. A life imagined of beautiful intimacy together, only for reality to crash in with that of isolation eating away at their hearts.

Going into personal theories some more, I don't think Craig stopped fighting for Octavio. He's left in such a poor state in Splatoon 1 for that of a 'recognized hero' in war. It could be an element of veteran mistreatment, and it could also be that he tried to speak up post-war of the unrighteous terms it'd been started upon. It could be he'd been stripped of any benefit due to his political views. I think Octavio resorted to stealing the Zapfish because he knew Craig's attempts would never bring about change, and that he'd been punished for trying. Craig wanted to stop him from stealing the Zapfish because he feared repercussions for his lover. I'm rambling on and its getting all sappy and I may cry now--

uhhh all this to say, cuttletavio more deep than basic tropes of 'toxic yaoi' etc etc. thank u for coming to my ted talk.... feel free to contribute to the convo in the reblogs or comments....

[galaxymagitech]

I was going to put this in the tags but I rambled on for too long...I have a lot of thoughts on this.

Firstly, it depends on how much we're giving a pass for genre conventions. Alfred enabled and even encouraged child endangerment and, debatably, child soldiers. But if I couldn't accept kids being vigilantes, I wouldn't be reading Batman. So I'll avoid letting that influence the results, because otherwise I'd be saying he's a bad person on that alone.

Secondly, I'll address emotional abuse, which I think a lot of us can agree that Bruce was at least approaching at various points in time. And in this case, I think it really depends on what role you think Alfred has in the household and how much power he held. If Bruce was being overly controlling, or isolating his kids, or ignoring their boundaries...what more could Alfred do? He could quit, but that might make things worse. And he has gone to bat for the kids before.

In many cases (I'm especially thinking about various retellings of Dick's time as Robin), Alfred recognizes something is wrong and at least attempts to intercede. He does his duty. He tries. Maybe he's not a saint, maybe he could do more, but I think he can still be good.

Then there are the cases of Alfred as an enabler. He actively participates in Tim's Sixteenth Birthday Test. He also sometimes borders on telling characters not to provoke Bruce...

And in this case? Well, I'm not sure he can be a good person.

But is it enough of a pattern of behavior to say "that's his character now" as opposed to someone who tries their best to do what he can for these children? I don't know. It's complicated.

Now onto the physical abuse. I think it's important to consider that Alfred is...old. Now, I'm not saying it's okay to hit a child. I think that corporal punishment of any kind is not good. But I am saying that the generational difference here is very real. Bruce should know better than to hit his kids. But Alfred comes from a time when that was very much normalized.

So take early Pre-Crisis, where Bruce has hit and spanked Dick. And if I carry any of that into one of my fics (usually, I don't, and if I do I just carry over the slaps, which makes this the following questions even stranger to me), people ask "what about Alfred?" or "where is Alfred" or "if Alfred knew he'd put a stop to this!" I...don't think he would see any problem with it. I don't think he's equipped to see any problem with it. My grandma hit me once, before my mom explained to her that my parents agreed not to "use that parenting technique" (my mom also often told us to be grateful that they made that decision, but that's another story). I can guarantee you that if one of my parents slapped me in front of her, she wouldn't do anything. Not because she's not a good person (I love my grandma!), but because she's not equipped to really identify a problem there.

The same is true, I think, for Bruce and Dick's fights in Post-Crisis, some of which end in physical violence. Is it physical abuse? Maybe, especially when combined with patterns of emotional abuse. It's certainly bad parenting. But I don't think Alfred not doing anything about it makes him a bad person.

(I will also note that Alfred has slapped Bruce on panel. So if you're really going for the throat, you can talk about cycles of abuse. This is part of where my "product of his time" belief about Alfred comes from. Basically, if you're considering Alfred an enabler for not stopping Bruce from hitting his kid, you're going halfway and not carrying things to their logical conclusion.)

Now, we move onto the New52, where Bruce has casually and brutally punched Dick, randomly punched Harper, etc. Rebirth, where Bruce brutally beat Jason while saying some pretty awful things after Jason had long since stopped fighting back. At this point? I think we've passed the point of plausible deniability. Right now, Alfred is dead. But before he died, there was enough that he saw.

So, at some point, there has to be some degree of willful ignorance. And at that point, I wouldn't consider Alfred a good person.

But before we cross that line—I think it comes down to classifying a few moments of Alfred's characterization and deciding which extraneous materials you're counting as canon. So...it's complicated. Ultimately, I think Alfred is not a saint, but still mostly a good person.

[ceiling-karasu]

I had a dream about one of the OCs I made a while ago (also murder mystery theater).

I know back in March I was discussing different AUs and OCs I could use for future projects, and I had a few issues with one that made me think I should axe that project, so I kind of put them on the wayside. (And hey, since we have been talking about neglecting certain OCs...)

My first problem was that I had four (fifth route scientist path absolutely not) different directions the AU hedgehog could go, but each way would require the OC to have a different personality and backstory. I wound up calling them Omelas, Yossarian (like Catch-22), POW, and Victorian mystery illness as placeholder names. Actual names would come much later. The other issue is that I later found out someone else had some similar ideas, but the ideas for each are different so I think it should be fine.

Either way, it was just a little too complicated to be viable, I thought.

But I had a dream this week that made me realize I could do all of the backstories and plots, if I split the one hedgehog into four different characters with intertwining stories.

Also, much more Flower Hill corruption than I originally had planned, but works out better.

It is kind of long, and only has basic ideas I want for the plot, so I'll put it under a read more.

Omelas

Some Flower Hill generals (or other high ranking position in the army) secretly invade some villages outside the borders of Flower Hill and abduct hedgehogs to pad their numbers. After all, the weasels will run out of bodies at some point, so they might as well throw some bodies that are not from Flower Hill at them.

Omelas is the child of a Korean/Ainu style village in which children are raised communally (and maybe girls aren’t given names until marriage, that is a regional thing in the past), and the hedgehog in question is just treated as an 'extra burden' since they are female. The area itself speaks a specific language dialect since it has been remote for generations, but the village head has been discouraging that.

The young hedgehogs are taken by the generals and sergeants, who mark them as Flower Hill hedgehogs trying to escape conscription, so no one asks many questions, especially since many of them can't give proper names, so other soldiers think they are lying. The military leaders involved get large bonuses for capturing deserters, as well as for how many conscripts they have under them, so two birds one stone.

Eventually, most of the other non Flower Hill hedgehogs die in battle, while the survivors plan rebellions behind the scenes.

Omelas, possibly as part of a ploy by the group to 'send a message,' causes a scene including destruction and threatening Flower Hill in the other dialect one day, that gets herself in trouble. The military police during the trial finds absolutely no record of her existing in Flower Hill before the army, which backs up the stories that had been going around, uncovering the corruption. The investigation unit that has to come in realizes that they now have an international incident on their hands if anyone finds out, and also if the records have been falsified, then there are an untold number of angry foreign hedgehogs planning a rebellion, and they don't know where they are.

Omelas is sent to work on a farm as punishment for the incident she caused, and also to keep them out of the way while Flower Hill tries to figure out what to do about the abductions (probably nothing, most of them are dead anyway, and it could be easier for the others to be written off as weasel sympathizers and ‘gotten rid of’), especially since the villages no longer consider the missing hedgehogs their own.

I kind of want her to be named after a mushroom. I really like the name Enoki/Enokitake, but that is a Japanese word, and it is Pine Mushrooms (songi beoseot) that are the major delicacy in North Korea, so I have to work on that.

But either way, she hates Flower Hill from the bottom of her heart, but also knows the weasels would kill her, so she has to bide her time and hope the rest of the survivors do their part.

Yossarian:

A young hedgehog from a family where each member has an impressive military career, especially in sniping (almost wondering if she should be related to Wonsi, my other hedgehog OC from a sniper family, but those AU ideas are not connected). When she was young, she found a sick and starving mouse child who had crossed the border and tries to help them, only for a squirrel friend a few years older than her to murder the child for being one of the enemy. Everyone praised the squirrel (possibly because they thought they might be next), who later went on to be a squad leader/general, which makes Yossarian question Flower Hill and why everyone outside needs to die, especially if they are too weak to be an issue. She doesn’t question the war or conscription in general, though, just why she has to do it.

Since she is an excellent sniper during conscription, her term limits keeps getting raised, and she is put in an 'exception' group. Like in Catch-22, this group can only end the conscription if they go on a set amount of missions, but that number keeps getting raised whenever they near the cap.

The leader of the group (I don't know military terms and commander seems to be wrong here) is the squirrel friend, who offers to let her out if she marries him in a televised wedding to show off Flower Hill's unity. At some point he forges paperwork saying that everyone in the unit has decided to stay in the military full time for another two years (have not decided if the 'exception group' explanation was a lie he came up with). Most of the group is happy that they did not have to waste the time filling out the paperwork, but others fall into depression, disrupting the unity of the unit.

Thus, Yossarian feels trapped and resents Flower Hill, while also feeling very protective of the few squad-mates she likes, and starts sniping enemy mice and weasels in the shoulders, in such a way that they can never hold guns again, but can still otherwise work. This earns her a reputation with the Weasel Unit. Killing someone brings no joy, but she finds it disturbing how excited she gets to wound someone, since it means they can finally be free, as she wishes to be.

But what would she even do outside of the army? Be a farmer? That would be disgraceful for the family, but can they really see themselves as being a part of the military or marrying the squirrel forever?

Finally, Yossarian snaps and assaults the commanders themselves when they call her in to send her on a long mission, screaming about the lies and false paperwork, which surprises and confuses them (also the squad mates who thought she was happy), because would have assumed she would be happy to work for Flower Hill in that way (oh, but there are a few like her every now and then, but they usually wash out earlier), but yes, that squirrel should not have done that.

He only gets a slap on the wrist, and Yossarian is 'diagnosed' with combat fatigue and stress due to expectations, but still needs to be punished, and is sentenced to work on a farm.

Meanwhile, a small investigation is started.

POW

A failed squirrel scout who gets captured and is a POW for a while before being rescued. But it is assumed he must have talked or turned, and is sent to a detention/re education facility instead to figure out what information they gave (he gave nothing). The detention facility actually does worse than what the weasels did to him, emotionally at least. Flower Hill was supposed to care about him, but they have completely betrayed him, and are not giving his injuries proper medical attention. Also, he is really afraid to go back out, considering everything he had gone through. Even the friends who are allowed to visit look at him as if they think he is weak and pathetic somehow.

He is not actually supposed to be in the detention facility. His commanding officer was a nepotism hire who accidentally gave him the wrong information, and then forged evidence of him being turning traitor to cover up his mistakes. Or maybe was even bribed by the weasel unit to give him over, and the rescue is a ‘problem’ for whatever deals he has going on if anyone looks too closely at the capture. No one in the facility questions the paperwork, though, and don’t explain anything to the squirrel.

This can go two ways:

POW eventually goes into sepsis from the injuries (maybe appendicitis, although really just humans, monkeys, possums, and rabbits who get that but hey, fiction?), and is only saved by the his old drill Sargent who was brought in to scream about what a disgrace he was, but recognized he was dying. That, or the facility gets raided by the Weasel Unit, and some enemy soldiers recognize him and appear so genuinely concerned about his health that he accidentally confesses and answers all their questions. Maybe both.

Or, he agrees to go back out on another mission so he can leave the facility. The handlers falsify some records to say he is fully retrained and recovered, but upon joining up with the Weasel Unit in disguise, has a panic attack and goes catatonic, which combined with his other health issues, freaks out the mice. The doctors turn out to be his original interrogators, who send him back because his reappearance in such a way actually answers the majority of the questions they had been asking about Flower Hill the first time they captured him, so they have no need of him anymore.

The workers could actually be fired or jailed for what they did to him, so they write it off as him developing sympathies for the enemy and helping them (perhaps albeit under duress) which nets him a labor sentence on a farm (especially if they spin it as he somehow brought the weasel unit to attack the facility and let them in). But his physical injuries linger, making it difficult for him to work, and there may be quite a few mental issues involved, which only gets worse as actual investigations begin and find him at the center of the turmoil. Also the drill Sargent starts asking a lot of questions.

Victorian Mystery Disease.

Basically a hedgehog with a failure to thrive issue. They have been sickly since birth with some sort of fatigue disorder, which everyone assumes is laziness. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot move very far without feeling exhausted and slowing down. Maybe some chronic pain issues as well.

Eventually he gets diagnosed as a malingerer, and as punishment to 'fix him,' he is sent to a farm to labor as punishment.

He is very upset about this, and has been frustrated his entire life with his inability to be 'normal,’ like everyone else.

Honestly, I’m kind of thinking Fibromyalgia. I’d didn’t expect to find this term when looking up symptoms as I was about to post, I was going to leave it open ended or give them regular anemia problems.

Murder Mystery

As I said in the original post, The idea for all of this came from when I was playing The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog the day it came out (those actual playtime segments were really stressful and made my mind jump around), and I did want a train to be involved at some point.

Which serves as a good meeting point for the characters, while they are being transported to the farm. They can't exit the train, so they are mostly allowed to roam free.

So, it could start en media res, which each of the four accidentally getting drunk at different points and bemoaning their problems. (Omelas because her guard suggested she tries a drink because she will never get the chance again, Yossarian to drown the stress and shame, POW to steady his nerves because he saw Weasel Unit soldiers, and Vic because it was an accident).

A bartender has the most horrifying night of his life, making him question his habits of getting strangers drunk to listen to their life stories, and briefly reconsider his alliance to Flower Hill.

A foreign reporter has the most fascinating day of her life.

The Poirot style international detective is very concerned.

Meanwhile, the train tracks have been switched, stranding the train in the snow, while several prominent people on board are murdered one by one, and the four are some of the prime suspects...

The Farm

The original plan was for the farm to be at the ocean. But that would provide too many opportunities to escape (although weasel unit infiltration would be easier). I am actually thinking of making the punishment farm be in Dol Jogagga, the rock carving/sculpting village I made up. After all, the sculptures are important for international relations, so they could use some help with the farms.

And they were roommates.

The four live in one small farmhouse together and farm what they can. They are told that if they can manage a certain amount of harvest several times in a row, then they can go back to the rest of Flower Hill.

They dislike each other either for being foreign or for being weak, but eventually heal and unlearn propaganda, maybe. Which is the opposite of what was supposed to happen.

So, basic farming, recovery, and slice of life in this village. Dol Jogagga is protected with enough sentries that there is almost no way to escape without them noticing. But they are remote enough to not stigmatize the laborers like the rest of Flower Hill. In fact, they are a little suspicious of the commanders, and can feel sympathy for the four, so are relatively nice to them, and try and help the best they can. Also remote enough to have their own dialect as well, which the four sometimes accidentally use, to the amusement of the villagers.

Maybe some enemies to lovers with Omelas and Yossarian. POW and Vic can just vibe as roommates and try and fix/understand their illnesses together.

Omelas learns that life does not have to be a tragedy and starts to relax a bit. Maybe starts growing mushrooms and starts a successful business. Everyone else learns to find farming very relaxing.

The corrupt investigative officers and other officers realize that the four are actually enjoying themselves, and people are asking too many questions, but cannot change the punishments because it turns out they got kickbacks from them in the first place. Plus, changing the punishments would bring even more suspicion upon everyone involved in the corruption plots, so they try and trick them into leaving on occasion.

Corrupt investigative officers/military police keep coming by to try and make the four confess to something since otherwise they know too much. Maybe sometimes Weasel Unit scouts do sneak into the village and shenanigans ensure.

Anyway, thanks to the hurricane, it has been raining for days here, and some parts of my area have been evacuated. I'm uphill, at least.

But it had me dreaming that it was a hazy, pleasantly humid, raining midday afternoon. The type of day when the chores are done, and there is not much to do. The hedgehogs and squirrel are cuddled up at the entrance way of the house, either drinking tea or mushroom soju, sliding door opened. In the distance, one of the nosy and aggressive investigators has arrived to harass them again, but since it was an unsanctioned visit, did not know the exact house, and are falling into muddy fields, getting further and further away.

It was very relaxing.

[batbabydamian]

The Boy Wonder #1 by Juni Ba rambling about why every time i open this book, i stare in wonder...HAHA and ofc!! how cute Damian is!!

Juni Ba’s style is so absurdly effective in telling a fairy tale for the ages. It’s a stunning blend of simplicity and complexity I'M GRIPPING THE PAGES AGAINST MY EYES…

Before getting into the interiors, THE COVER!! It associates autumn leaves to Damian's Robin title through the iconic cape shape/color; and on top of that, for a Robin going through a big transition in his life...a season of change one might say...Juni Ba your brain...

Damian and the leaves being the only colored parts of this cover is nice in focusing on those elements, but i also like to think by not coloring the background it prepares you to expect impressive inkwork in this book.

On that note, the interiors!! Starting off with Ba's backgrounds of Gotham as it establishes the strange new world that our young hero has been thrust into:

We get a neat tracking shot following a champagne glass that gives us a glimpse of Gotham from the upper echelons to the downtrodden in "Underwell"

This opening sequence quickly lays out the environment Damian will be traveling through in this series! It also sets the tone for some silliness with the cute zoom on the champagne glass before it BOKs the robber lol. Along with Ba's inks, O'Halloran's colors makes every part of Gotham pop - especially love the golds of the higher society shifting into the blues of the underbelly!!

Besides Damian’s personal conflict, Gotham feels like its own entity that he has to contend with. The dialogue speaks for itself, but within the art as well!!

"This city of ours swallows and crushes everything it can" -> a gargoyle's beak over Damian, crowds of people, and walls of advertising

"You've seen it too...the way it coils around one's mind from below." -> bridges and a passing train on a rail viaduct towering over a civilian

"A dark voice calling as if to say..." -> literally, "FEED ME"

LOVELY SHOT OF MOVEMENT... and i love how Damian's venture into Gotham opens with him passing a tree - its branches and leaves are the most organic element on the page before getting into the gritty details of the city! Some yammering because the inks are. so cool: the delicate lines of the leaves in the tree to the thicker/bigger lined ones closer to the camera on the right; the background inks allowing space around Damian's form + the fine line of his grapple!! More O'Halloran praise - PRETTY, and love his coloring over Ba's bg lines, particularly here, keeping the leaves darker on the right.

It's not only a pretty page it's just a really clean layout!! Ba exhibits this throughout the book but i really enjoy it here - from Damian nyooming, we head into these last 3 panels. his cute lil "Robin" shape easily draws the eye to the tops of the panels as we take in Gotham's liveliness alongside the lettering/narration

and the "Robin" shape?? SO CUTE. it's instantly familiar to us as Robin!! bold outline and filled with yellow...it's a Robin in movement!!...AN AUTUMN LEAF IN THE WIND... yeah, still not over that 😭

Damian's inciting incident is introduced in the former panel with a gorgeous backdrop of Gotham in the distance (plus itty bitty Trinity cameo haha). The shot parallels!! beautifully!! in the final page!! Damian is now in the depths of Gotham, his objective out of reach. The colors are of note too, where the familiar yellows of Gotham are suddenly a startling green after the demon makes its appearance. The Gotham land looks even more unfamiliar, which prompts Damian to seek help.

Some speculation, but the green could also be associated with the more mythical side of demons and such (like the ghost?? of the thief), but it could even imply there's a connection to the Al Ghuls themselves as it's the only other time green is so prominently used.

Now that the land of Gotham is established, popping in other fav bgs!

More lovely mix of Ba's inks and O'Halloran's colors!! especially allowing some of the brush/marker strokes to show faintly as part of the twinkling sky...STUNNING!! 😭 i love this whole page but this panel gets me weepy, SMALL DAMIAN IN THE VAST UNIVERSE COMBINED WITH THIS LINE "He knew he could be great. How unfair of the world to make him feel so small." KICKS MY ASS... i need to lie down

YAPPING AT MORE WONDERFUL INKING: the suggestion of windows offscreen from the frames casting these thick lines over the walls and stairwell; the minute shadow details over the railing; the hatching on the suits in the portrait; the framed portrait being its own panel!! cute hooded Damian in the gutter space looking in on the portrait/panel!! CUTE HOODED DAMIANS!!

SPEAKING OF PANELS, along with general effectiveness and efficiency, there's more whimsy in others!! like this kickass page of Nightwing whipping his escrima from first panel -> afterimage lines going POWPOWPOW hitting demons from a distance to ones closer to the camera -> and back into his hand!! IT'S SO GOOD AND SO FUN!!

Ba's action employs more diagonal panels, and characters are less restrained within boxes - there's more energy and freedom across the page!

not necessarily focusing on the action for this one, but THE WHIMSY!! the border itself is goop!! Also gotta point out that looming hammer shape!!

Nightwing's critical hit spans the entire page!! from silhouettes of a flip -> flashy stomping pose/Clayface -> to a distant shot of Dick landing

and a smooth finisher page!! love the motion lines on Dick's arms and waist + his head and arc effects popping outside of the borders; then the smaller panels for quick activity, and the final WOOB WOOB WOOB LOL i can hear this sound effect just as much as i can see it

Along with O'Halloran on colors, Aditya Bidikar on lettering works seamlessly with Ba's vision!! The text boxes for the fairy tale narration are like strips of yellowing pages from an old storybook!! Had to look up the term for this lol, but also reminiscent of those storybooks, there's even a use of "drop caps" - the big fancy capital letter!

Smaller things of note, but the bit of "Weakness" text from Ra's has a kind of. grandiose feel to it. Then the cute B< Damian behind the window!! Love how the bubble and text are faded behind the glass too! The end of the bubble tail is a nice touch as it matches well with Ba's bg inking :0

Otherwise, it seems Ba has done a majority of the lettering - dropping a couple of my favs below!!

also just this whole page: the very loud AAAH! text draws both Damian's and the reader's attention to the panel below!! it's a cool transition to a new shot where you can see Damian's silhouette on the building! The final panel is cartoony violence off-page through the bold POW BOOM SLAM haha + DAMIAN'S LIL FIST!!🥺 and the guy's tooth RIP

Pure speculation - Juni Ba's concept art included Carrie Kelley, so i'm wondering if the hostage in the beginning could be her and we'll be returning to this moment in time by the end. The worn Robin colors are similar to the design + their head is conveniently covered.

In terms of story, I'm obviously heavily biased, but the initial read got me rolling in emotions with how it has you caring for Damian. Damian as a character is so fantastical in essence - it’s part of his individual charm in the batfam cast! an heir of two kingdoms, born and raised with great expectations suddenly thrust into an unfamiliar land. he has a sword. he has a dragon bat for a companion. he is haunted by the sins he has committed. he is two apples tall. he's truly fairytale material!!

LIKE...past the panels of only his silhouettes, this is our introductory appearances of Damian. It's laid out clearly in the narration, but this parallel is SO GOOD: from the powerful and ornate visuals of Damian and the Al Ghuls -> to a simple panel of Batman's shadow behind a boy littered in scars, stripped of his home and status

Damian is out of his element and proves himself in the way he knows how!!

just kick me down a flight of stairs why don't you. i don't know which messes me up more, the top 3 or bottom 3 panels. His facial expressions!! his expectations for approval dashed!! Damian's hand reaching for his father!! only to be left alone with the body. The page after this is the final nail in the coffin in feeling just how lost he is in the world before he acts on it. And you root for him the entire way!!😭

Despite Damian's fanciful background there's so much heart to be shown in his struggles and discoveries - and this classic form of a fairy tale lays it out so brilliantly!! It's shaping up to be an amazing balance of heavier elements and whimsy based on this first issue, and it leaves you wanting more!!

Besides being a thoroughly enjoyable read, it's inspiring work!! i've ordered Juni Ba's other books to consume more of his storytelling, and here's the ones i've found so far if you're interested in checking them out as well!!

Mobilis: My Life with Captain Nemo

Monkey Meat

Djeliya: A West African Fantasy Epic

The Unlikely Story of Felix and Macabber

okay shockingly, i didn't blab about how cute Damian is as much as i thought i would, but i think the collage at the top speaks for itself lol

this is all you need to know how cute Damian is in this!! his cheeks are so pinchable, it was done on page!! 🥺 these panels obliterate me

[bittybeanie]

oh boy! time to post a new fic! I can't believe it's been *checks calendar* ....oh. uh. oops. ignore that! it's the fourth and final installment of (this) aspec reigen series, complete with a lite™ version of a couple different kinks and finally getting to touch the peen! this one's real long, folks, clocking in at about 9,500 words, so you might wanna get a nice beverage and settle in.

content notes: thigh riding, themes of consent, drunk almost sex, a discussion about the drunk almost sex in the following scene, praise kink, a very loose (literally) definition of bondage, and so so many pet names. minors please don't interact!

also on ao3!

It takes more than a couple tries for you to get settled on the bed. You’re too close, then too far, and Reigen can’t get comfy, and your hand keeps sliding out from under you, and he can’t decide how he wants your leg angled, and there’s too many clothes, then all at once so few clothes that it feels like too much at once and you hastily agree to put your shirts back on, not wanting to break the already fragile layer of quiet hope.

Finally, finally, everything is perfect.

Awkward, stilted, and a little tense, and you’re not sure how long your leg will let you keep it just barely raised like this before it cramps up, but he’s here, embarrassed but steadfast, breath coming out in shivery gasps, hovering over your thigh, one hair fisted in the back of your hair. If he tips over, there’s no way you’re not going with.

Perfect.

His thighs shake as he holds himself up, deciding which direction he wants to move. You reach for the small of his back to steady him. "Does this count as keeping my hands out of the way?" He nods, so you test the waters by sliding your other hand up his thigh.

"As long you don’t- just no direct touching. Close to is fine, just not… well." He moves a hand back and forth across where he’s hovering over your thigh.

“Keep off the goods. Gotcha."

"The goods? Awful. You're awful, I swear."

You slide your hand up, just barely skimming your fingernails over his hip when you catch the hem of his shirt, and his cock twitches in his boxers.

"The goods don't seem to agree."

"Oi." Despite his protests, the laughter loosens him, and he relaxes enough to lean back into your knee. “Fine, fine, just stop saying goods.”

“Alright.” He raises an eyebrow. You lift both hands in surrender. “I promise! I will never again use ‘the goods’ to refer to your perfect, gorgeous, suckable-”

“I get it! I get it.” He grabs onto your shoulder - maybe in an effort to distract you, or maybe just to keep his balance - as he shifts closer. You can practically feel the heat radiating from his ears. “Here, actually, can you-? Hm.” He presses a hand against the inside of your other leg, thumb digging in as he gives a shove. He slides a knee into the newly free space between your legs, leaning forward to get a better angle. Your hands settle back on his waist.

“Better?”

“Much.” He lets out a little hum as he pushes his hips forward, and you have to stamp down a whimper at the feeling, his dick heavy and warm even through fabric.

“Didn’t mean to just push like that, though. Sorry.”

“S’okay. I’ll survive a little manhandling, as a treat.” You hit the last “t” sound with a click of your tongue, and he falls into your neck with a laugh. You trace patterns on his hips as he moves, tracking the motion as you press your fingers into his skin. “God, how do you get your hips to move that smooth? It’s sorta mesmerizing.”

“Hm? Oh, I don’t know, I’m just- I wasn’t thinking about it. S’just what f- ha, feels good.” His breath fans out across your collarbone, warm and fast.

“Yeah? You like using my thigh, baby? No thoughts other than what feels good? Your own personal toy to get yourself off against?”

“Oi.” His hips stutter once before he falls back into a slower rhythm. His fingers dig into your shoulder as he pulls you closer.

“Too much?”

“That’s not how I think of you.”

You can’t help but laugh, a light chuckle coming out in a breath against his hair. “I know, ‘Taka, I know.” You slide your hands under his shirt, over his stomach and up to his collarbone. “But would it really be so bad to belong to you?”

“I- fuck.” There’s a moment of worry when he shoves you away, but then he’s scrambling for the hem of his shirt and pulling.

“Are you sure?” It’s a formality, uttered even as you’re already reaching to help slide the fabric over his elbows, but it’s one you can’t even imagine going without.

“Very.” He lifts himself off of you to push his boxers down, shifting his weight from one leg to the other as he shimmies them all the way off. The mattress shifts and pitches him over, and you hurry to grab his arm.

He crawls back over to straddle your thigh, the tip of his cock tapping lightly against your side before he leans back onto his ankles.

“Do I need to get-?” You chuck his shirt into infinity and gesture vaguely to the bedside drawer. He’s technically never told you that he started keeping lube in there, but he hasn’t made much effort to keep the secret either.

He shakes his head. “I’m close. Won’t matter.”

He tries to go back to rutting against you, anchoring his hands on your waist to tilt his hips this way and that, but something about the new angle is off, and he can’t get any good contact.

“Oh no, now horrible, your dick is just so hard it won’t stay down on its own.”

He clicks his tongue at you as he scoots to sit closer, flush making its way from his ears to the edges of his cheeks.

“That gorgeous curve probably isn’t helping, either. In this case, anyway. Be an absolute treat to have inside me, though.” You press your thumbs in just above his knees, encouraging him to spread his legs more, and he jumps with a squeak, hands flying to grab yours. “Sorry, sorry, di-”

“No, it’s-” He pulls your hands together, just in front of his stomach, and the tip of his cock brushes against you. For a moment, you think he’s going to pull down, but he guides your hands back to his hips, pressing them into his skin as he rolls his hips. “Here.”

He gives up and puts his hand flat over his dick, pinning it down against your leg. He lifts himself to adjust the angle, just his tip dragging along your skin until he bumps into your hip, precum rolling out in a thin line over your thigh. When he pulls back, he grinds down insistently, coating his length and covering what isn’t already marked of your thigh so he can slide more easily. After a few impatient jolts of his hips, he settles back into a rhythm, smooth and fluid, and lets up on the pressure of his hand. He slings his other arm over your shoulder to pull you closer, and he falls forward to bury his face in your neck, whining into your collarbone.

He wasn’t lying when he said he was close, because it only takes a few drags of his cock against you for him to seize up, body tensing before going boneless, cum rolling over his hand and onto your hip as he slumps against you in a mess of pants and sighs. You slide your hands up his back to support his full weight, pressing kisses to his hair as he catches his breath.

“Just… gimme a second, I can cl- get you- god, my legs.” He rolls off of you with none of his usual grace, limbs falling everywhere at once, lightly smacking your arm as he goes limp.

You laugh and push his hair back from his face. You don’t bother to untangle your legs from his, accepting your fate of needing a shower later in exchange for getting to lean down to kiss his cheek.

“Eh, let it dry.”

“I’m starting to think you like it more than tolerate it.”

“If you haven’t gotten the hint by now that I want you to absolutely cov-”

He gives you a shove, rolling his hand so there’s no real force behind it, but you seize the chance to topple with a dramatic moan, one hand falling theatrically across your forehead as your eyes flutter closed. 

“Oh, stop it.” He crawls over and props himself up on his elbows. You can feel his breath fanning over your collarbone, stilted like he’s trying not to laugh. You crack one eye open, breaking into giggles when you see his forced serious expression, eyebrows pinched together and one cheek sucked into his mouth to keep the smile off his face. He breaks at your laughter, breathing out through his nose and pressing his forehead to yours. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

“Oh, you could take me anywhere, handsome.” You waggle your eyebrows suggestively, and he rolls onto his back with an exasperated groan. You laugh again and sit up, pulling a blanket over him so you can settle in without accidentally brushing somewhere he’d rather you didn’t.

“Hey, Arataka?”

“I love you, too.”

“That, too.” You chuckle. “But I have a real question this time.”

“Oh.” He turns his head. “Sure.”

“After you… when you took my hands earlier, were you…?” The fleeting moment of contact between him and your hands floats through your mind. You can’t help but wonder what he was thinking in the moment he hesitated, but it feels weirdly invasive to ask so bluntly. “Sorry, never mind, this is a weird line of thought.”

You lay down beside him, craning your neck to rest your head on his shoulder. His hand finds yours, lacing your fingers together as his thumb smooths up your wrist.

“Do you mean…” He takes a steadying breath, grip tightening almost imperceptibly. “Do you mean after the clothes came off?”

You nod. For a moment, he stills, not even breathing.

“I was… I wanted so badly to let you touch me. I thought if I didn’t have to say it, if I could just… imply, then I could get around it, but,” he sighs heavily, and he sounds tired when he continues, “I panicked.”

You’re both quiet, long enough that you startle even yourself when you finally break the silence.

“It’s not a bad idea.”

“...Panicking?”

“No, angel. Implying.” He presses his cheek to the top of your head. “Maybe you just have to imply for a little longer.”

“I’m not following.”

“What if you left your hand on top of mine? That way it’s like- it’s the same as when you do it, but it sort of, hm, bridges the gap? All the sexy, none of the surprise.”

For a long moment, you’re not sure if he’s quiet because he’s thinking or because he’s falling asleep.

He hums, shoulder rolling under your head, and he pulls you tighter against his side.

+

"Okay." You shift nervously, tucking your foot underneath yourself, then deciding against it and unfolding your legs. "Walk me through the zones again."

"I'm not a city planning map." He rolls his eyes, but he takes your hand. You’re not sure which one of you the gesture is supposed to comfort.

You shift back onto your knees.

"Here up, anything goes." He points at the middle of his chest. "But try to stay- so more like, well, from maybe..." He gestures to his collarbone and wags his finger up and down. "Here to here, really."

When he looks back at you, you can tell he's waiting for something. You settle for a small nod.

"Right. A-and then, here to here," he points from his chest to just above his hip, "Hands are fine. Doing... whatever." He steadies himself with another deep breath and rushes through the rest. "Legs, stay still, and anything... direct we'll do the- on the- yeah, got it, that's all."

You let him sit for a moment to make sure there's nothing he forgot. His grip on your hand tightens, and you swear he moves to pull you closer, but he must decide against it at the last second.

"Whose hand is going on top again? Sorry, we've swapped it so many times I can't remember if we decided."

"Oh. Right. Um." He hovers his right hand over his left, then swaps them, then swaps them again. “Yours under mine.”

“Got it.” You reach for him, letting him pull your hand up to his collar. "And you know you can tell me to stop at any time?"

"You tell me that every time."

"It's important every time."

He swallows thickly and traces a circle on the back of your hand with his thumb. "Yeah. I know."

You shift to pull your legs off to the side, then cross them again, then sit back up on your knees. Gently taking the collar of his shirt in your hands, you trail one thumb along the edge of the fabric until you reach the top button. "And can I do this, or would you like to?"

He nods before realizing there were two options in your question, then points at you, then at your hands, then flashes you a thumbs up. "Yeah. Go ahead."

"Well, now hold on, I have manners. I'm not going straight for the goods." He laughs and shimmies to sit up straighter, letting his legs straighten out in front of him. "How about the pants later?"

"Uh, right, that's, I didn't think about that. I mean it would make sense that you're going to be- I mean it's not like-"

"Arataka."

"Yeah." He swallows.

"I'm not going to be offended if you’d like to take off your own pants."

He pauses, staring down at his knee. Eventually, he shakes his head. "I want you to do it."

"And your-?"

"Just do it at the same time."

"Got it." You take a steadying breath of your own. "I won't stay there, but is it okay if I straddle you for a little bit? I wa-"

His hands are pulling at your waist before you can get your legs properly unfolded, and you almost tumble over him. He laughs an apology as you move on top of him, hovering over his legs to avoid making any real contact.

You brush his bangs back from his face, following through with the motion until your fingers tangle in the shorter strands of hair at the back of his head. He tilts to follow your hand, craning his neck to keep you from pulling.

"Ready?"

He nods slightly.

"I’d like a verbal yes for this one, lovely."

He swallows. You watch his Adam's apple bob.

"Yeah, yes.” He nods again. His hand jerks, taking yours with it, and he awkwardly lets your hand fall into his lap. You do your best not to move. “I trust you."

You drag your gaze back up to his face, searching for any last signs of reluctance. A bead of sweat trails down his temple, and you’re certain if you put your hand to his cheek you’d worry he had a fever. Sure enough, when you slide your fingers along his jaw, he’s hot to the touch, and the tips of his ears are turning brighter shades of red by the second.

He clears his throat, pushing his jaw into your palm. “Are you gonna-?”

“In a minute.” You swipe your thumb across his bottom lip. “I’m savoring.”

He scoffs at that, the same scoff he uses when he sees somebody do something stupid in public, and you take the opportunity to catch him by surprise, surging forward to push him down onto the bed. His hands go to your shoulders on instinct but he pulls them back almost immediately, hovering awkwardly in the space between you. Using your grip on his chin, you angle his head so you can lean down and kiss him without knocking your noses together.

Once you’re sure you can support yourself without falling on him, you allow your free hand to trail down, tracing down the muscles in his neck, across his collarbone and back, finally settling on the first button of his shirt. It takes a little effort to get it undone with just one hand, but you manage it, and you allow yourself to dip down as you settle into a rhythm, lips ghosting along Reigen’s skin as you uncover more of it.

He’s shivering, hand shaking where it hovers over yours on the last button of his shirt. When you slide your hand back up along his side, his hand falls back to the bed, pulling at a wrinkle in the sheets.

You kiss along his jaw, savoring the feeling every time his breath catches in his throat under your lips. Your hand trails down along his side, wrapping around him to hold his waist when he arches up into the press of your thumb. He hums, eyelids fluttering, and you dare to slide your hand down, ever so slightly, thumb brushing over his waistband and back onto bare skin.

He grabs for you, grasp tight around your wrist, almost painful before he slowly relaxes and drags your hand back up toward his chest. You push yourself off him, swinging your leg to kneel beside him.

“Here, let’s try this.” You guide him to sit up. Once he’s situated against the headboard, you settle in by his thigh, your knee pressing gently into his hip. One hand traces circles and patterns as you trail down to his stomach. “Still good?”

He hums, but he scrambles for your wrist again, holding on tighter and tighter the closer you get to the button on his pants.

“You’re allowed to change your mind, y’know. I can let you do it.”

“That’s not- mm.” He relaxes his death grip on your arm but keeps his thumb hooked around it. After a few tries to let go completely, his head tips forward into your shoulder. “I thought I would… I’m sorry.”

You shake your head and slowly pull away. “Nothing to apologize for.” You cup his face with both hands and gently turn him, but he doesn’t hold your gaze for long. 

“Do you want to keep going? Should I…?”

He opens his mouth, but says nothing. His expression is pinched, tight with something you’re not sure how to label. His fingers press together, thumb and index, thumb and middle, thumb and ring, thumb and pinky, over and over as you lean back, nodding softly.

“Stay in bed?” Your voice is shakier than you’d like. You swear he flinches, and you clear your throat. “Or move to the couch and watch something?”

“Couch.” He nods once, stiff and harsh, and swallows thickly. “Thanks.”

He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, and slides out of bed, starting to button his shirt back up as he wanders into the other room.

You keep nodding as if in a trance, and you follow him out. 

+

Despite the now faint memory of some friend of a friend forcefully inviting you, there's not a single soul at the party you recognize. With the exception of a few people dancing by the kitchen, closer to the speakers, everyone has settled for taking a seat and awkwardly bobbing their head. You’ve repeated the same three lines of small talk more times than you can count, it's just cold enough that you've had the chills the whole time while still managing to feel overwhelmingly stifled, and the music is so awful you wonder how somebody hasn’t tried to change it yet. But there's alcohol, the good stuff that somebody is clearly very particular about, and lots of it. You can't remember how much you've had, and that fact is enough to tell you it was probably too much, but it doesn't stop you from taking whatever the host is passing out when they wander through.

You think Reigen might be the only person doing worse than you. He looks... woozy. His face is flushed and his eyes are lidded like he might throw up, pass out, or both at any moment. At one point he took a tumble when he tried to sit down, graciously ignored by everyone else, and you had to throw your arm around his waist to keep him from sliding down the front of the couch again. He's leaning on you for support every time he moves, and if there were anything left in his can you’re sure he would be spilling it on you right now.

He's restless at the best of times, you know this, but even through the fog you can tell something is off. Not wrong exactly, but he keeps giving you this sideways glance, digging his fingers into your thigh to steady himself and then yanking his hand away, knocking his head into your shoulder and muttering something you haven't been able to make out.

He laughs - way too loudly at something you're not sure was supposed to be funny - and stands abruptly. Your hand around his waist falls limp on the couch, and he sways without the support.

"I'm going to the re- the ba- I gotta piss."

Nobody but you pays him any attention. He takes a wobbly step forward, knocking his foot into the leg of the coffee table, but he doesn't seem fazed. His knees bend at a weird angle as he shifts his weight from foot to foot, then he straightens back up and whirls around to face you. The momentum sends him tumbling back down, and you manage to catch him before his nose smashes into your jaw.

"I guess you better help me there."

"Yeah." Your voice crackles from dehydration. You have to clear your throat and try again to get a recognizable sound to come out. "Alright." You do a quick mental scan of your legs to make sure they'll support you before you motion for him to get up so you can stand. He does, grabbing your wrist and pulling with the conviction of somebody who does not need help walking.

The gears in your head start to turn.

He drags you along, glancing over his shoulder as he rounds the corner into the hallway, only stumbling once when he has to screech to a halt and back up to yank a door open. He pushes you inside, pulling the door closed behind him after he follows you in.

It's pitch black, and you're not sure if the overwhelming lemon smell is coming from Reigen or something in the room. You reach out to find him, but your fingers brush against something cold and smooth instead, and it's not until it tilts and hits you in the head that you realize it's probably a handle for something. Reigen's hand whacks into your arm and he holds on tight, fingers digging into your shoulder as he pulls you forward.

"I don't think that was the right door."

"Hm? Oh, sure." You can feel the air beside you moving until eventually his other hand finds your face, one finger dragging across your cheek until it hits your nose. "No, I- yeah, I know."

"Then wh-"

He pushes, hard and sudden. You fight to keep your balance as you adjust to the weird backwards lean you find yourself in. Reigen hisses as he pulls his fingers out from between you and the wall.

"Dumb, that was so dumb. Sorry." He fumbles for your waist to guide you backwards, and you feel his hips press against you when he reaches past your head to lean on the wall.

Everything clicks together all at once.

Your hands fly to where his waist should be. Once you find him, you're not sure if you want to shove him away or pull him in closer.

"You're super drunk. I don't know if-"

"Tha's the point." The hand on your face slides around until his thumb catches your bottom lip. He sways, like talking about it has made him remember how much he's had to drink. When he leans against you, he's heavier than normal, like he can’t support his weight anymore. "Liquid courage."

"I’m drunk." 

"Mm. Shit." He pulls away, just barely, and he nods. "Do you mind?"

Your mouth drops open uselessly. All your thoughts feel like static, indecipherable noise screaming for you to do something, if only you could figure out what. He's squirming now, like it hurts to stay still. You realize he's whimpering at the same time you realize he's grinding his hips against your leg.

“M’fine.”

He lets out a sigh of relief and drops his hands as he shuffles around. You take the chance to stand back up. When you finally bump into each other again, he wraps his arms around you and squeezes, his breathing coming out in pants against your chest.  He hooks one leg around yours, tapping his foot against your heel to bring your leg forward. You make a strangled humming sound when he grinds against your thigh.

"Hey, where's your hand?"

"My...?" You suddenly remember you have hands. You allow yourself a moment of silence for all the time you could have been holding onto him before you push one hand forward. It smacks into what you think is his stomach. "Sorry. Here."

"S'kay. Stay put." You keep your hand pressed against him as he leans backward. You're not sure when he stopped holding onto you, but one of his hands is suddenly over yours, and a loud zip cuts through the sound of you both breathing. He slides his hand down, dragging yours with it. Your fingers glide along his skin, smooth and soft, until you brush against a patch of hair.

A sobering panic cuts through you.

He must realize what he's doing at the same time you do, because you both freeze. His grip tightens. He guides your hand away from him slowly, stopping when he makes contact with your side.

"Stay... stay put."

He turns and scrambles for the door. Something falls beside you when he misses the doorknob, then you're squinting as light floods in from the hallway. You can make out the silhouette of him sprinting into the room diagonal from where you're standing, and then there's the unmistakable sound of vomiting.

Your place is only two blocks away - no more than a ten minute walk.

You call a cab service.

+

It smells like coffee.

When you try to sit up, the room spins. You end up in a sort of half sit, half lean as you grab onto the side of the mattress, willing everything to stay still. You take stock of the things that are clear enough to look at, slowly making sense of what happened once you got home.

You're laying on top of the covers, still in your clothes from last night. One shoe is in the doorway, and the other is nowhere in sight, probably somewhere closer to the entrance. The coffee smell, growing more enticing by the second, is a good sign Reigen's in the kitchen.

You slide onto the floor beside your bed, not trusting yourself to stand up without falling just yet, to rummage for more comfortable clothes. Once you manage to get changed, you stand up slowly, and make your way to the kitchen.

Reigen must have grabbed a set of pajamas at some point last night, though you can't remember when. His back is turned to you; he's lazily stirring something on the stove. Two steaming cups of coffee sit on the counter beside him. Before you can decide whether you want to say something and risk startling him, he seems to sense you standing there, and he turns around with a weak smile.

"Hey."

"Morning?" It's both a greeting and a question, because you have no idea what time it is.

"Yeah." He lets out a breathy chuckle. "How, um, how you feeling?"

Your head is throbbing so bad your teeth hurt, your legs and back are sore, and you have a looming sense of guilt.

"I think I should be asking you that."

"I'm fine, really." He clicks off the fire and reaches for a bowl. "I told you, I felt basically back to normal after I- well, um, you know. Thanks again, by the way, for car- for carrying me."

You nod softly, feeling a little useless as he hands you what looks and smells like a very delicious soup.

"Reigen, I am so-" "I didn't mean-"

He reaches for a second bowl. "You first." When you start to shake your head, he rolls his wrist in a "go on" motion. "Please. I'm not actually sure how to say mine yet."

"Right." You swallow thickly, fidgeting with your spoon. Deep in thought, you miss Reigen slipping past you. He clears his throat and gestures to the seat across from him. You slide into the chair. Your spoon clanks against the bowl as you set it down. "I, um. Shit, I'm so sorry."

He seems surprised, a spoonful of soup halfway to his lips.

"What for?"

"Wh-" You blink. "Every... thing? I- I know sorry doesn't even cover it, but I-"

"Whoa, hey, okay." He shakes his hand in front of him. "Never mind, I'll go first, because I think you got the wrong idea and I'm not gonna let you apologize for anything that happened."

"But you trusted me, and I-"

"And I still do. That's- that was the whole- look, I-" He sighs. His spoon clanks as he sets it down, abandoned in favor of wringing his hands together. "I set you up."

"You-?"

"I didn't mean to! I thought- It was stupid, and I should have just told you what I was trying to do, I know , but I- I wasn’t exactly thinking straight, and I thought if I could speed up the process, then- I mean, there's only so many times you can put up with almost getting to- if I could- ugh, sorry, hang on."

He pinches the bridge of his nose. You swear your headache is reacting sympathetically, because pain shoots between your temples, dull but persistent. He goes to retrieve the coffees from the kitchen, just cool enough to drink, and you down some as soon as he hands you a mug.

"You've been so patient, and I know you would never do anything I didn't want, but I... I keep overthinking it. And I thought it would be the perfect excuse to... to not have to think about it at all. I mean that's- that's just what people do at parties, right, and- I mean, it was... ugh." He sits back down, his posture unnaturally rigid. He chooses his next words carefully, pausing between words as if he’s testing out different sentences in his head. "I trusted you… to not take it further than I was comfortable with… more than I trusted myself to… not panic over nothing. So, I- I saw the chance and I..." He gestures weakly, hand falling back to the table with a soft thump.

"Liquid courage."

He takes a sip of his coffee and slumps forward, holding his chin with one hand.

"You... got drunk on purpose?"

"Not originally, but, uh."

You nod slowly. Your stomach grumbles, and you realize you haven't actually eaten any of your soup. You take a reluctant spoonful, chewing slowly as you take everything in.

"When you froze up, it- I realized how little I had thought it through. I- it wasn't fair to you. You didn't do anything to- I never should have put you in that position in the first place."

"I... would have appreciated a warning, yeah."

"Sorry." He runs his hand through his hair and leaves it against the back of his neck. "I'm really sorry."

"Apology accepted." Reigen relaxes into his chair. As he stretches his legs out, one of his feet bumps against your ankle, and you laugh softly. "I'm still sorry, too. I should have asked more questions. And I didn't... I think I noticed something was wrong but I didn’t realize it was that frustrating for you. Before, I mean. I never wanted to make you feel like you had to do something like that."

"It's exclusively a me problem, I promise. I thought something would have worked by now. I don't... I don't really know what’s getting in the way." He shakes his head, breathing out sharply through his nose.

“I mean, literally speaking, your hands.” You laugh and take another sip of your coffee. He tilts his head. “Because, you know, y-you always grab my hand before I-?” He stares, unblinking. “Sorry, too soon to joke, probably,” you mutter into your cup, taking another sip just to have something to do.

When he moves again, it’s with a jerky start, sitting up and leaning forward. “My hands.”

“Yeah, I-”

“No, my hands.” He throws his elbows onto the table. The bowls clatter and his coffee sloshes; his chair scrapes against the floor as he stands. His wrists come together in front of you, palms up and fingers curled loosely, as he stares, silent, waiting for a glimpse of recognition to cross your face. It takes a moment, but when he finds it, he grins. “My hands.”

“If you want to stop-”

“Saying so has always been enough.”

You stand, leaning to match his eye level. You consider him, searching for hesitation, but you find none.

You take his hand, and you start pulling.

+

“This is… mine?” An old black tie lays across Reigen’s palms, the ends hanging loosely over his thighs.

“Yeah, you left it here. A while ago, I guess.” You shrug. “You never really liked it, though, plus you’re here all the time anyway, so I didn’t get around to giving it back, and it’s just been here ever since.”

As you slide the drawer closed, he catches a glimpse of an old t-shirt he left on his first night in your place, folded neatly in the back corner, under a small collection of his dress socks. 

There are signs of him everywhere, really, if he looks. His toothbrush in your bathroom, a blanket he bought you for your birthday draped over the back of the couch, his favorite sweater of yours hanging on the handle of the closet, never out of service long enough to make it in with the rest of your clothes.

He’s struck with the realization it’s not just in your things, your home, but in you, the way you gesture with an extra dramatic flourish that wasn’t there before, the unwavering, tight smile that settles on your face when you talk to clients, the softness in your voice when you welcome the kids into the office, quietly clearing a table for them to do homework on, the flashes of movement in the kitchen as you dash back and forth whenever you make recipes he taught you - favorites from when things were harder and uncertain and cooking was his escape, before even the hardest parts of his life were laced with joy.

He’s wearing off on you.

He’s known it for a while, but he’s never put it all together like this, never seen it all so neatly represented in a single black tie, satin and unassuming and full of possibility. You kick your abandoned shoe out of the way, pushing the door shut with a soft click that startles him just enough to draw his attention.

“Still okay?”

He wonders how you’ve worn off on him, which parts of him weren’t there before that he doesn’t notice, can’t notice.

“Yeah.” He nods. “I’m ready.”

He smooths his thumb over the fabric, watching it wrinkle and crease where he applies pressure. It slides across his palms, dragging slowly as you wrap one end around your hand, until he’s left with empty air, hands outstretched between you.

He feels light.

You take his hands in yours, turning them in toward each other, and start to lay the tie across his wrists.

“Oh, wait!” You pull back right away, and he holds up one finger. “Not- we should take my shirt off first.”

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!” You laugh and settle back onto your knees. “Yes, okay, let’s- yeah.”

Reigen stops halfway up. The fabric stays bunched when he lets go, and he pulls your hands to the exposed patch of skin. He can feel the tie, still wrapped around your palm, pressing against his side, cold and smooth, and he swallows thickly. As you drag your hands up, it slides up with you, and a shiver wracks through him when you finally pull the shirt off his arms.

He cups your face, pulling you into a kiss, fingers coming to press at the back of your neck to keep you against him as he topples backward. You catch yourself on one hand, the end of the tie flipping to rest over his shoulder as you climb to straddle him. He’s insistent, both hands tangling in your hair, little sighs and puffs of breath against your mouth as he refuses to pull away for air.

You press a kiss to his cheek to soothe the loss when you lean back. He drapes his arms over your shoulders, locking his fingers together behind your head.

“We could stay like this? My hands are… close-ish together.”

“I can’t see behind me to tie it, but,” you pull his hands around your head, “I’m sure we can figure it out after that.”

He nods. You turn his hands back toward each other and his fingers curl, knuckles pressing together as he relaxes. You drape the tie around his wrists, trying a few different ways of looping it but not finding anything you’re satisfied with.

“Sorry. I just wanna make sure you can get out if you need.”

“It’s alright. I like the attention.”

You freeze, a wobbly grin taking shape as your face heats up.

“‘Taka, I’m supposed to be the composed one!”

“I’m just trying to be honest!” He flexes his wrists, pressing his knuckles together to crack them.

“Don’t worry,” you press both ends of the tie between his hands and motion for him to hold them still, “I like giving you attention.” You fold the middle of the tie over to make two loops and start twisting them in on themselves. “And I wanna hear about it as much as you can bear.”

“You seem plenty composed to me.” He pinches his thumb between two fingers and squeezes.

“Quick recovery. I learned from the best.” You wink and put your fingers through the loops. “Here, hands in here.”

He flattens his hands to squeeze them through, stopping to let you shimmy the tie the rest of the way over. You hold the ends of the tie and give a quick tug before tying them together.

“There, it’ll have to do.” You slip a finger in each loop, making sure there’s enough room to be comfortable without him being able to slip out without meaning to. “It’s a little loose, so don’t pull too hard, okay?”

“Sure.” He folds his elbows down, letting his hands come to rest on his chest. He jerks one hand up toward his hair, pulling his other hand with it, and the tie snaps taut. He has the courtesy to look sheepish. “I’ll try.”

You roll your eyes, smile still wide.

“Hands above your head, please.”

“Hm?”

“I’d like to get at your neck.” You press up on his elbows, and he unfolds his arms. “Those were in the way.”

“O-oh. Right.”

You lean down, tilting his chin up with one hand, and press a kiss to his throat, savoring the way it moves as he swallows. You trail down until you reach his stomach, dragging your tongue along his skin on the way back up. He exhales sharply, breath moving your hair as you get closer to his face. He forces out a laugh, and he rolls one shoulder.

You glance up. The tie is already starting to come loose, untwisting in the middle, but his hands are clasped together, the tie held in place between his wrists, fingers over the ends.

You kiss him, quick and breathless, and slip your fingers under his waistband. When his breath hitches, you smooth your thumb along the bone there, a reassurance you won’t move yet. You can feel him tense under you, pressing up into your touch, then slowly settling back onto the mattress.

You’re both reluctant to acknowledge the fact that you have to get off of him to take his pants off. You do your best to shimmy them under you, and he lifts his hips to help, but you need both hands to make sure his boxers stay on for now, and you want to make sure he can move his legs, so eventually, begrudgingly, you climb off him.

He takes the opportunity to stretch, his back arching off the bed as you throw his pants off somewhere to worry about later.

“Ooh, pretty. Think you can do that for me again?” You press a thumb to the inside of his thigh, at the edge of where his boxer leg has ridden up, and he jumps, hips rolling against your touch.

“Trickery.” He squirms, a whine that refuses to come out shining through in his voice. “Not fair.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get plenty more chances.” You trail your fingers up his thigh, along the “v” of the bone, up his stomach. He shivers when you trail back down, your fingers catching on the waistband of his boxers to drag it over his skin before letting go, settling your hand lightly over the bulge in the fabric. It’s slightly damp against your skin, and Reigen chokes back a moan when you press down. 

You pull, grinding your palm down on his cock as the waistband moves until you can see the base of it, then you slide back up, tracing the outline of him with your fingers. When he whimpers, you’re too slow to hide your grin, and he glares halfheartedly.

“Having fun down there?”

“Oh, lots, thanks.” You slip your thumb below the elastic. “Seems like you are, too.”

“Hm.”

“Sorry, what was that?” You lift your hand with mock alarm, and he scrambles to reach for you, slowly lowering his arms to his chest when he sees your smile.

“Yes.”

“So, just to make sure, you are having fun?” It’s just as sarcastic as it is serious, and he seems to take it in equal measures, because he scoffs at the same time he nods. Both hands are on his hips now, both thumbs in his waistband, and you pull up gently to get him to lift his hips.

“Good boy.”

You’re not sure you would have felt it if you weren’t holding him, but he definitely shudders, trembling where your fingers press into his skin.

“Arataka.”

“Hmm?” He sounds breathless, and his chest heaves with effort, the rest of him as still as he can keep it.

“Should I keep calling you a good boy?”

“Um. If you want.” He jerks his hips up, and you take the hint to slide his boxers off, keeping an eye on his face as you do. You climb between his legs and lean over him, wrapping your hand slowly around his cock, firmly but gently, your thumb over the tip.

He squeaks, and he tenses, but he doesn’t reach for your hands.

“You’re doing so well, ‘Taka.” He swallows, and he shifts his hands, twisting the tie so he can lay his arms closer to his hair. “Such a good boy for me.” Precum oozes out of his slit, and you feel it roll down your hand.

“Mhm.” You lean back on your heels. “How about this? You tell me what feels good, and every time you do,” you pull your thumb down, spreading the precum along his length, “I’ll let you know just how much I appreciate it. Sound good?”

He nods, and you stop moving.

“Can I hear you say it?”

“Yes,” he breathes, pressing his wrists together, “yes, sounds good.”

“Good job.” When you lean to kiss him, grip tightening to keep his dick down against his stomach, his knuckles brush over your hair. “So perfect.”

You start slow, focusing more on touching every inch of him then keeping any sort of rhythm. When you trail up the vein on the underside, he shivers, and he gasps when you squeeze the base, and his hips jerk up when you pass over his slit, one leg coming up to press his ankle against your side. It’s not until you slip your other hand around him, though, arm passing through the space created by the bend of his knee to settle on his outer thigh, that he says anything.

“Fuck, that, more of that. P-please.”

“This hand?” You press your fingers into his thigh. He presses back.

“Yeah. I need… just, hold onto me.”

“Okay. Yeah, of course, sweetheart.” You scoot closer to wrap your hand tighter around his leg, spreading your legs to slip your knee underneath him. Once he relaxes, the full weight of his leg on yours, you press a kiss to his knee. “Good boy.”

“Shit,” he laughs, squirming closer to you. “S’not close enough.”

“Let me try something, then.” You slide backwards, reluctantly letting his leg fall to the bed, and you shimmy onto your stomach. When you pull his leg over your shoulder, he immediately hooks his ankle into your back and lets out a breathy moan. The pressure makes it a little harder to reach back around his thigh, but he relaxes into it easier, and the view is incredible. “There you go, perfect.”

You start up a little faster this time, twisting your wrist as you move up and down, and he bucks up into your hand. You risk a kiss to his thigh and his hands fly to your hair, the ends of the tie flowing down against your cheek.

“Sorry, too much?”

“Not enough.” His voice is scratchy now, and he gives a little tug once he gets a hold of you. “Can you, don’t put it- but, closer?”

“You want me here instead?” You press a kiss to the underside of his cock, flipping the loose ends of the tie out of the way to lay across his hip.

“Y-yes. Yes, fuck.”

“Gladly.” Between words, you pepper kisses along his shaft, following the trail of your hand up and down. “Thank you for letting me do this for you. You look so beautiful like this, feeling so good.”

He starts to make a noise of protest, but it quickly shifts into a stifled groan when you press a kiss to his tip, just barely letting your tongue drag across his slit as you pull away.

He whines and bucks his hips to follow you, and you can’t help but let an incredulous laugh slip out. “Alright, love, I’m gonna give you a choice, okay?”

He swallows thickly, then nods.

“Option one, you can tell me exactly how you want me to make you come. If you want my hand or my mouth or to go faster or slower or anything at all you just have to say the word. But I won’t do anything you don’t tell me, so you’ll have to say exactly what you want.”

His breathing is ragged, and he twitches in your grasp. “And option two?”

You grin and lean over him, propping yourself up on one hand. “I do whatever makes you the loudest, and if you stop making those pretty noises for me, I stop.” He seems to flinch at that, and you brush his hair back. “Just for a little while.”

He takes a shaky breath, eyes fluttering closed, and he pulls his arms in and down to drape one across his forehead. The tie was never really secure in the first place, but after quite a bit of pulling and flailing, it’s fully undone by now, nothing but luck and stubborn determination holding the loops in place around Reigen’s wrists.

“Both options, of course, come with all sorts of praise and admiration.” You slip a finger under the fabric and give a light tug. He lifts his hands to let the tie slide free.

When he opens his eyes, a shudder running down his spine, he sees you absent-mindedly tying the tie around your neck, uneven and loose, hanging down between you to brush against his stomach. He’s sure you just needed somewhere to put it, something to do with your hands, but it flips a strangely possessive switch somewhere inside him. Not because he’s seeing you in his clothes - he’s had the privilege of that many times before - but because you’ve taken the thing that was supposed to restrain his ability to fuck up the situation, taken something he left safe for you to keep track of without even realizing he’d done it, taken the symbol of his presence in your space and your time and your life, and you’ve put it on without a second thought. He thinks of his misguided reasoning that got you into this situation, that he trusts you with him more than he trusts himself, and he knows what he wants.

For once, words are failing him, which just makes the choice even easier.

“Second one.”

Your eyebrows raise a little, like you’re surprised at his answer, and he almost takes it all back, but then you’re grinning and leaning down to cup his jaw, kissing him like he’s giving you the only air you could ever breathe, and he moans into your mouth.

You lean away just enough to pull in a gasp of air, fingers sliding to tangle into the base of his hair.

“Just like that, gorgeous.”

He laughs, sucking in a shaky breath as you wrap your hand around him again. It pinches into a sort of strained whimper as he starts to quiet himself and thinks better of it, and you start moving.

“That’s it, good boy, just let me take care of everything.”

For all he got into his head before, breaking the seal of touching him seems to have removed any last bits of hesitation, because he relaxes into your touch almost immediately. Your experimenting earlier left you with a good idea of what will get the best noises out of him, and he doesn’t hold back. You’re silently thankful, not only because you get to hear him, but also because you’re not sure you could have followed through on your threat of stopping. And if he’s exaggerating for your sake, all clipped moans and raspy mumbling and bucking hips, well, you’re not going to complain.

After a particularly tight stroke up his cock and a brush of teeth up the inside of his thigh, he pulls one arm over his mouth, pushing it against his lips with his other hand. You’re still deciding if that counts as muffling his sounds enough to slow down when he bites his wrist and yelps, a loud, desperate, frantic noise that seizes what little of your attention isn’t already on him. His head tips back as he struggles to prop himself up on one elbow, hand flipping to clamp down over his mouth, and you can see the bite mark, lines pressed into the pale skin just below the jut of bone where palm meets wrist. It takes you a minute to realize he’s saying something, your brain struggling to piece his noises together into words.

“Can I have your hand?” You hum, scrambling to extract your hand from his leg. “I just- I need,” he opens and closes his hands, “something.” When you hold your hand up blindly toward him, he takes it quickly and holds on tight, fingers lacing together with yours. He gives a few tugs, and you hurry to sit up.

“Please, I need- I can’t take it anymore.” He looks frantic, eyebrows pinched together and his chest heaving with ragged, shaky breaths. His hips buck wildly, quick and shallow into your curled fingers. You realize you’ve forgotten to keep moving as you were watching him, and you quickly correct your mistake, reveling in the shiver that racks through him as your thumb swipes over his tip.

He’s begging now, your name falling out in pieces between gasps and cries; he’s still tugging at your hand like you can’t get close enough, pressing his lips to your jaw like he can’t quite remember how to leave kisses there. He pitches his hips up and presses against you, knees coming together to press into your sides, pinning your hand against your torso as he lets out a final shuddering whimper.

He comes across your fingers, his whole body tense as he holds himself up, back arched and head rolled to the side. He moves to wrap his arms around you, forgetting that his elbow is supporting him, and he pulls you down with him as he falls the short distance to the mattress.

You do your best to roll off him without letting go of him during the aftershocks, but you’re not exactly paying attention to where you’re still holding, and he yelps again from the overstimulation. You yank your hand away with half an apology, smoothing your hand up his side as you lift yourself up on your other arm.

“Nono, wait, don’t-” He scrambles to grab you wherever he can, and you intercept him before he can smack you across the face.

“It’s okay, ‘Taka, s’okay. I’m not going anywhere. I just didn’t wanna crush you. Let’s sit up so you can get some water, alright? All that noise can really make your throat sore, I know.” You slip your hands under him, one at the small of his back and one between his shoulders, gently lifting him toward the headboard. “That’s it. You’re okay. I gotcha.”

Once he’s upright, a glass of water in two shaky hands, you lean over the side of the bed to fumble for a washcloth. When he doesn’t slow down on his own, you start to reach for the glass, but he pulls away for a big gulp of air before you can.

“How you feelin’?”

He doesn’t answer right away, leaving you to fidget with the cloth, slowly reaching for his thigh. He lets his eyes slide closed as you start to wipe him off, smoothing an apologetic thumb over his hip when he hisses from the sensitivity. You wipe your hand on a mostly clean corner before you chuck it in the general direction of the hamper, silently relieved when it makes it in.

“I think I died.” His hands are still shaking as he goes to set the glass on your nightstand, and you gingerly take it from him, lifting yourself up to set it on the far corner where neither of you can accidentally knock it off later. “I understand you now.”

“You didn’t die, I promise.” You allow yourself a smirk and pull a blanket up from the end of the bed. “That’s high praise, though.”

“You’re high praise.”

“You’re the one that liked it so much.”

He rolls his eyes, too tired to argue. As you pull yourself up the bed to sit beside him, he leans over, one hand sliding behind you to rest on your hip. Now that he doesn’t have the distraction of everything else, you can tell he’s starting to think, because his ears are tinting pink and he’s fidgeting with a string on the edge of the blanket.

“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t happy to oblige.”

You scoop his hand into yours, leaving the blanket’s seams to live another day, and examine the bite mark on his wrist.

“I can’t believe I did that.” He scoffs, shaking his head a little as you turn his arm over. “The hell was I thinking?”

“Obviously you weren’t, which is both the point and very hot, so hush.” He turns away stubbornly, but he looks pleased. “You could probably say a spirit did it. Biting seems like an evil ghost thing to do, right?”

“With clearly human teeth?”

“Maybe it… stole them?”

He laughs, pulling away from your grip to get comfortable against your side. Just as you start to drift off, soothed by the sound of his breathing slowing and his weight settling on you as he relaxes, you feel his fingers walking down your hip, making their way to your thigh. You crack one eye open, and he looks away with obviously fake innocence.

“Where you going with that hand, darling?”

He smiles, bright and daring, as his fingers dig in. “Your turn?”

You consider it. You’re not quite capable of fully ignoring how turned on seeing him like this has made you. There’s a bit of nervous energy, buzzing over what’s left of your hangover, excitement, the joy that bubbles up in your chest at seeing him smiling at you like that, everything coming together in an overwhelming, swirling feeling of wanting whatever he will give you. But there’s something else, a calm undercurrent to it all, coating the emotion in quiet and directing it all back to a single point, solid and unwavering and right .

More than anything, you are content.

He sees your expression and laughs, must know what you’re going to say the moment you decide, because he mouths the words along with you as he pulls his hand back up to your hip.

“Maybe next time.”

[froschli96]

you know, i always find it really funny when dudebros complain about syndicate and odyssey being too "jokey" or not "taking its characters seriously" or whatever…

like, did y'all collectively sleep through "it's-a me, mario!", "i meant besides vaginas", ezio inventing the latte, bartolomeo's... just... *gestures vaguely* entire character, etc?

like, it's fine to have preferences of course, i myself prefer a more serious and grounded tone, but these are usually the same people who tout the ezio trilogy as "peak assassin's creed", call ac1 a glorified tech demo and hate on connor for being "too serious and boring", like? make it make sense!

[mariyekos]

Thoughts on the new DMC trailer?

Going to be honest I haven't watched any trailers since the trailer at the Game Awards (or whichever one I have those 2 breakdown posts for) 😅 I keep seeing the trailer announcements when I don't have my headphones on me, and I've been behind on watching them once I have the time... maybe tomorrow I'll finally get to watching them! Tonight I'm dead tired so I don't think I'd be in much of a good mood and I don't want to start off on the wrong foot, so to speak. When I watch them I can make a write up on it though! Would probably be fun.

[qualityrain]

i am thinking. about firefly wedding and being a tool v a person. rambling abt satoko and shinpei and throwing ideas at the wall. (some chapter 28 spoilers btw)

they are all tools to something. satoko being a tool to her family and shinpei and kotaro being a tool to her(albeit in slightly different ways).

initially satoko uses shinpei as a means to leave the island and shinpei uses her as a way to feel needed. this ofc changes over the course of the manga and theres alr this post abt how shinpei doesnt see satoko as an object considering the different reactions to her scar i think more obviously is the talk he has with her on the boat as they are leaving the island in chap 16 where he says i want to know more abt what kind of girl you are.

he wants to get to know her more as a person. understand her better. know why she is like this. what kind of girl is she. her likes?dislikes? and its mutual in chap 28

ever since chap 24 there is this explicit mutual commitment because this relationship isnt a short time thing on the island anymore. they’re stuck together now and its ok to have this mutual curiosity abt one another and they’re both able take the time to know more abt each other now. they’re not tools to each other anymore but somebody to have a long term relationship with

which makes me think abt kotaro. kotaro who brings satokos medicine and brings her favourite sweet. he learns these things abt her and obviously sees her as a person but encourages satoko being a tool to her family. its not his fault because its what satoko herself thinks she wants. i wonder if satoko knows kotaros likes and dislikes too. satokos whole dilemma of marriage for her family or for herself. does she want to be the tool or her own person. i think this is something shinpei(and kotaro) have to address in the future too since shinpei thinks of himself as a tool and it hasnt been addressed yet. lots of things to think abt and see what happens this year

[lgbtlunaverse]

I think i need to explain why this line makes me go so feral

I think the "fine! I'll kill myself after I kill you" line from nie mingjue in chapter 49 permanently altered my brain chemistry and it has something to do with precisely how i got into the mdzs fandom space in the first place.

I've mentioned it a few times but i started watching the untamed in late 2019 right as it was blowing up everywhere and, likely due to a combination of undiagnosed adhd wrecking my ability to be interested in anything for longer than 4 seconds and me very much not being used to the specific style of acting, especially during fightscenes, i never finished it. The only concrete memory i have of it is seeing wen qing's face and meng ziyi completely short circuiting my little gay brain. I remember more of staring endlessly at pictures of her than I remember of the plot. Press F to pay respects.

Flash forward a few years and a friend recommends me a fic writer for an fma fic (the fic riter in question is metisket) and i like their stlye so much i decide to read other stuf they've written. Here we get to our prime suspect: "the one body problem" a genuinely hilarious fic where jingyi gets posessed by wei wuxian like a year before the plot happens and they become awkward brain buddies. 10/10 i loved it (and still do) even though i remember huasiang showing up in my first reading and I, having fully forgotten his name, had no fucking clue what was going on. (Little did i know...)

Anyway flash forward ANOTHER year and I decide to reread that fic, and then the other untamed fic metisket wrote, a wen qing time travel fix it that's also real fun. And then i'm like. huh. that's fun. wonder if there's anything in their bookmarks.

And then, within 20 days, I had read approximately 350 fics. Many of them 100k+ words. I cannot stress enough how much this CONSUMED my brain's ability to do or think about anything else. I now think back to the early days of getting my adhd diagnosis and insisted that while i had pretty much all other symptoms, I did not get hyperfixations. Lol. Lmao, even.

I am mainly focused on wangxian and the junior quartet becuase they are my baby ducklings and i love them. I do come across some 3zun fics and I think huh... this is interesting. But the 3zun brainrot is LIGHT at this point.

The thing about reading more than 350 fanfics is that at some point you kind of piece the plot of the source material back together backwards. Especially because my favorite genre was time travel fix its, where characters relive the whole plot and like to make allusions to all the ways everything went wrong last time.

Because I'm still squarely in my wangxian + juniors (plus a heavy dosis of yunmeng sibling reconciliation) corner here... the feelings on jin guangyao in my fandom corner are. different from where I'd end up soon after. He is my special little guy though, so I do kind of immediatley develop a fondness for him, and I approach my 3zun and early nieyao thoughts specifcially from the assumption that the widespread opinion is that nie mingjue is a fine good guy and jgy is the evil one (I have not seen the bad nmj takes yet. well... I am seeing DIFFERENT bad nmj takes but they're nice to him. In, like, the wrong way. With no solid undertanding of the inherent tragedy at the heart of him that makes him so blorbo to me. But still.) major reactions to the stairs scene as I see them on twitter are "girlboss! He should've kicked him harder 💅"

And the baby jgy apologist in me goes :/ me no likey. And at this point I am also actively seeking out metas and analysis posts so i'm seeing some better opinions than that and getting a halfway solid graps on the themes. wwx and jgy being foils becomes very obvious to me very quickly. So, with my curent understanding of the plot, I go... you know all you people who are like "god i wish nmj would have killed jgy sooner" it uhh... kinda sounds like he'd have died if he did that. If he'd killed him before meng yao had gone off to spy there is a very big chance they'd have lost the sunshot campaign and most of the main cast would be dead. If he'd killed him at the stairs that's... well that's killing your sworn brother, which by the canon's own admission is a universally reviled crime, and jin guangshan could easily take advantage of this by demanding nmj's head in retribution, since he already wanted to get rid of him anyway. He doesn't give a fuck about a-yao of course but he could pretend well enough that he does. And what leg would nmj have to stand on? The jin clan is canonically both willing and able to slaughter entire clans for the murder or attempted murder of the leader or his family, and nie mingjue is the kinda guy who'd immediately offer himself up if it meant the rest of his clan would be spared.

This combined with jin guangyao specifcally dying for his murder of nie mingjue, with huaisang basically not caring much about everything else he does and wanting to get revenge only for his brother, it gives nieyao a sort of mutual doomed soulmates feel. For either of them, killing the other would spell death for themselves. They either both die or they both live, one cannot live on without the order. That's crunchy. I like it.

The fire palace though? well, on meng yao's part there is a real argument that if he'd let nmj get killed immediatly instead of dragging it out he wouldn't have been able to get wrh alone and distracted enough to assasinate him, so that's one half of the mutual doom coin, and if nmj had killed him during their fight there he's also done for. But after? Right before Xichen intervenes? I had no answer for that yet.

(You know what's coming. I did not)

It is at this point that i realize that if this is gonna keep being A Thing then i need to read the source material before I catch fatal fanon poisoning. Yes, I can piece together the plot and themes from seeing what stays consistent across fics and what are the author's own opinons. But I know just as well that sometimes fanon just agrees on shit that didn't happen and treats it like canon, and I have no way of knowing which is which. So I start reading the novel.

And of course, eventually I get to the empathy sequence. And remember, my "nieyao both live or both die" theory is heavy on my mind at this point, and the only stickler is that nmj could sort of have killed meng yao after the confrontation with wrh, still believing meng yao was actually working for him, and not a spy, and get off... not scott-free, Xichen won't be happy, but it's not gonna cost him his life.

And then I read THIS.

Please Imagine dropping a whole block of pure elemental sodium into water. Except the sodium is this quote and the water is my poor little delicate brain. Not only is my theory right, it is ten times more unhinged than i thought it was.

And considering that Nie Mingjue does not seem like the kind of guy who'd consider something like a life debt to have an expiration date, and because after this he will link himself legally and socially to jin guangyao as family and declare that one among their brotherhood turning against the others is to be met with a painful death, I can no longer read the scene at the stairscase in jinlintai without the impression that he is still planning to die afterwards. Which, if you wanted to make that scene even more painful, this is a very efficient way of losing all your remaining hinges.

I think I'd have gone crazy about this line no matter what context I heard it in, but this one specifically? where I'm already obsessed with idea of nieyao's deaths being connected by the narrative and missing just this one piece and having it confirmed? out loud? from one of the characters himself? It's like giving cocaine to a baby.

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 6!!!

[lee-blogs]

Still packing stuff and now i'm looking for a box for this.

My dad and i made it a few years ago for halloween, probably 2015/16 if i'm remembering right. It's made from a lays can, a wipes container from his work, and paper maché. I don't remember what the wires and front metal bits are from, but the middle actually lights up! It has one of those long battery-powered emergancy lights in it and some colored tissue paper

[fluffle-writes]

I wanna. Pick them up in my mouth and shake 'em around like a dog obliterating a squeaky toy