#so full of cinematic potential

[edierone]

why don’t you listen to the kinks’ waterloo sunset and have a fuckin emotional breakdown and uhhh

[idledearest]

A POTENTIAL THREAT DETECTED AROUND THE DAYCARE PREMISES..

Just finished rebranding my twt (X) and IG username to match my name here! Anyways, here’s new art to start of the new handle! (Here we go again with my fake cinematic shots. So silly. Well, at least now we know why Sunny’s scared. Just Moon being himself as usual.)

Enjoy!

- idle ☀️🌙

EXTRAS: NO TEXT AND BORDER VERSION AND 30 SEC TIMELAPSE

here’s a version w/o the text and the borders! as well as a 30 sec timelapse! i miss doing these

there may or may not be a full speedpaint version of this in the making ;)

(NOW AVAILABLE AS A PRINT ON MY INPRNT STORE)

- idle ☀️🌙

[misswynters]

Innocent

short drabble

featuring. ambessa x princess!reader

requested by anon

a/n. a short drabble in honor of the new league cinematic video. (not proofread)

Whispers followed you wherever you went, delicate and sweet like the trailing ribbons of your pastel gown. A princess from a distant land, they called you, with eyes like morning dew and a smile so radiant it could disarm even the most hardened souls. You walked beside Ambessa Medarda as you entered Piltover’s council chamber, her imposing presence drawing wary glances and tightened jaws. But you, oh, you were such the opposite compared to her with your delicate hands grazing the edge of the table as you curtsied. The softness of your voice weaving through the room like silk.

They couldn’t understand it. What was someone like you, someone that was the vision of elegance, doing at the side of a woman like Ambessa? A warlord who ruthless and cunning, with a reputation for crushing anything that stood in her way. You looked out of place at her side, like a butterfly perched on the shoulder of a lion. But appearances, as Ambessa had taught you, were the first weapon in your arsenal.

“Your Highness,” one of the councilmen greeted, his tone dripping with condescension as he rose from his chair. “It is truly an honor to have such a distinguished guest among us.” His gaze lingered a moment too long on your soft hair and the glimmering jewels that adorned your wrists. You smiled, tilting your head ever so slightly.

“Thank you, my lord,” you said, your voice so sweet it bordered on saccharine. “I must confess, I find Piltover to be… overwhelming. Such brilliance and innovation, but so complex. I hardly know where to begin.” You laughed softly, the sound drawing smiles from more than one member of the room. Ambessa remained silent beside you, her sharp gaze watching, as you worked your magic on the men.

“You need not worry, Princess,” another councilman intersected, his voice laced with eagerness and a touch of pride. “We are more than happy to guide you through anything you wish to understand. Perhaps… I could offer you a private tour of the academy?” His tone was almost gallant, but the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.

Your cheeks flushed, as you clasped your hands together. “That is so kind of you, my lord,” you said, casting your gaze downward shyly before glancing back up through your lashes. “I wouldn’t want to impose, but I’ve always been so fascinated by Piltover’s Hextech. Perhaps I could ask you a few questions later? I wouldn’t want to take up too much of your time.”

Ambessa fought the smirk tugging at her lips, her arms crossed as she leaned back against the far wall. You were perfect. Every tilt of your head, every soft-spoken word was calculated to pull strings you weren’t even sure the men knew they had.

The council meeting proceeded, but you hardly paid attention to the broader discussions. Instead, you focused on planting seeds into the minds of the men. Compliments so subtle they felt like afterthoughts, questions that seemed harmless but dug at the roots of Piltover’s inner circle. By the time the meeting was over, you had gathered more than enough information to satisfy Ambessa’s expectations.

As the members filtered out, one lingered, his gaze fixed on you. “Princess,” he began, a nervous chuckle escaping him. “I couldn’t help but notice your… curiosity earlier. If you truly wish to learn more about Hextech, I could arrange a demonstration for you. Something private, of course, so you could see its full potential.”

Your lips curved into a soft smile, even as the words you spoke were sharp enough to cut. “You are too kind, my lord,” you murmured, stepping closer until you were just within his space. “I would love that. Perhaps tomorrow evening?”

The man nodded eagerly, his face alight with excitement as he stumbled over his words. Ambessa cleared her throat, her presence suddenly oppressive as she stepped forward. “Her Highness will have a full schedule,” she said, her voice like the edge of a blade. “But I’m sure she’ll find time for your… demonstration.”

As the man hurried off, you turned to Ambessa, your expression dropping the moment he was out of sight. “Amateur,” you muttered under your breath, your sweet demeanor melting into something sharper. Ambessa chuckled, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“You’ve done well,” she said, her voice low and approving. “They’re all wrapped around your little finger.”

You looked up at her, a small smirk playing on your lips. “Of course they are,” you replied, your tone light but edged with pride.

Later, as you sat on the edge of the bed in Ambessa’s quarters, she watched you from her seat by the fire. You were still the picture of sweetness in your pink nightgown, your hair falling in over your shoulders, but she knew better. Beneath that façade was a mind as sharp as any blade she wielded.

“You were perfect today,” she said finally, her voice breaking the silence. You turned to her, your smile genuine this time as you padded over to her chair.

“Only because you taught me,” you said softly, kneeling at her feet. Ambessa reached out, her rough hand brushing against your cheek, her touch surprisingly tender.

“Couldn’t be prouder,” she murmured, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it. You leaned into her touch, your eyes closing as a contented smile spread across your lips.

Innocence was your mask, manipulation your weapon, and loyalty to Ambessa the thread that bound it all together. You were exactly what she had shaped you to be. It was easy to manipulate others when they weren’t expecting it from a person with such a sweet demeanor. Clearly you proved them wrong, well eventually.

taglist. @blckbny @ch-bl0gsss @b-lossm @fortluocha @ekkosh @limereance @wolfessa @themostlesbianever @simonapietra @1-800-fantasy @saikikittykusuo @sevikaishot @sugarplumz100 @chaostudi @wxwrites @m-0-mmy-l-0-ver33 @robzo4 @puppyphia @xreadersarchive @boom58 @d3adbrainer @kylorey25 @slutmeoutfortoge @yaeil @sapphicarribean @randomperson291 @mvistl @hellokittyfeenie @literallyimthenerdemoji @nikaachuuuu @prettysupplicant @iamaboringrattat

[galedekarios]

meta master list

BALDUR'S GATE 3

early access content & cut content

i'm strong enough. i'll carry on alone - a meta about gale's strength of character

i cherish you - a look into gale's ea romance

gale & curing the orb - what the game had originally planned for gale

cut reactions & dialogues - 23 cut conversations from ea

the loss scene - major cut scene from ea

the deer stew scene - major cut scene from ea

gale's three tadpole dreams - cut content from ea

gale's condition & how artefacts worked - cut content from ea

the tiefling party - part 1 - cut content from ea

gale's key art

unused gale's scene / datamined cut scene found in the game's full release files

tara's cut content for companion gale

gale centric

gale & his parents - morena & his father

the netherese orb - consequences for gale's magic

gale & physical ailments caused by the orb

the nautiloid - where was he & where did he see the protag

gale - where was he kidnapped? ( 1 )

gale & yartar, the city attacked by mindflayers - where was he kidnapped? ( 2)

gale's love language - acts of service

gale's arcane hunger and its consequences

the missed potential of orin kidnapping gale

gale & masking - tell me more about yourself

epilogue - class specific skills gale learns from his s/o

to know you love me for the man that i am, not the magic i command... none have loved me so purely before - a closer look at gale & his relationship with the protag

gale & his love for his friends

gale's youth & time spent before the game's events

gale as professor at blackstaff academy

gale as a born sorcerer with a wizard's education

epilogue - gale, raphael, elminster and mystra

last night alive / act 2 romance scene cinematic notes

last night alive / act 2 romance scene devnotes

the drow twins scene

gale's scars - ea & full release

what do you need? - the red thread through gale's greetings

when is gale's birthday?

references in gale's banter on selection

evil ending devnotes

relationships with companions & npcs

gale & elminster - mentor, friend & paternal figure

gale & elminster - an addition

minsc & gale - a meta about their relationship with each other

karlach & gale - a meta about the relationship between the two

gale & karlach - epilogue specific lines

what was i after all but a mortal plaything in sacred hands? - parallels between gale and shadowheart

gale & withers - epilogue specific lines

gale & the ash, the magma mephit

gale & lae'zel

gale & family

gale & morena

gale & tara - general dialogue

tara being protective of gale

gale & tara - epilogue banter

gale & tara - epilogue ambient banter

tara & her little love

tara can speak common but doesn't want to

tara likes to snoop through gale's things

dialogue collection of tara & gale

items

gale's epilogue outfit - items decriptions & analysis

god!gale's outfit - items details & analysis

gale's animation vs standard wizard animation - a comparison

the chosen's earring - idle champions item descriptions

tara in idle champions - item decriptions

armillary sphere - coliar, karpri, anadia

gale's companion icon

the epilogue room

piano playing

waterdeep

waterdeep's splendours - what makes waterdeep special

waterdeep's festivities and celebrations

ahghairon's lost nose - who was ahghairon?

gale, waterdeep & coinage - a meta about waterdeep's coins and gale's wealth

manycats alley & a hc

wedding traditions in waterdeep - the wedding band

waterdhavians and their way of life - class & station, character & temperament, other races, smalltalk

doth thy mirror crack - ambient dialogue & waterdhavian saying

waterdeep after the game ends - trouble is brewing

the hospice st laupsenn & gale's stay there

waterdeep's wards

part 1: dock ward

part 2: castle ward

shorts

gale & home

the finer things in life

until we wake again, my love

scent - tim downie's hcs

colours associated with gale - tim downie's hcs

gale's themes - tim downie's hcs

epilogue - bookworm gale sneaking into various libraries & book shops

epilogue - epilogue description of professor vs god ending

epilogue - new hobbies

a look at gale's lifespan with an elven partner

quiet is not always peace

romance epilogue details - a closer look at outfits outfits & animations

idle animations - a closer look

DRAGON AGE: THE VEILGUARD

musing on the companions' rooms

down among the dead men: a closer look at emmrich's short story in tevinter nights

emmrich's vows & vengeance episode

emmrich & audric felhausen - a look at tevinters nights & da4

emmrich & flowers - meta and headcanon

emmrich & regret - a look at what happens after the argument with rook

emmrich & lichdom

[see-arcane]

So. What was the deal with the vampire in the graveyard versus Orlok’s Nosferatuing around?

SPOILERS INCOMING CLOSE YOUR EYES AND SCROLL AWAY

Von Franz mentions something vague about there being different rules depending on the region with the whole ‘sleep by daylight’ thing being the only consistent rule…

…except that doesn’t add up with what Thomas saw.

He followed the hunting party at night. He saw them open the coffin with the vampire still resting in it, cue the iron stake piercing him, the blood, the scream, Thomas’ startled cry—and then an immediate cut to him coming awake in the inn’s bed, now wearing a cross at his neck (which he tosses) and mud on his boots (proof of his excursion). He saw what he saw.

How did that vampire in the graveyard come to be? Was he one of Orlok’s making? Or was he never Nosferatu at all? Von Franz refers to Nosferatu exclusively as a type of undead that brings plague. That does seem to be Orlok’s gimmick, but the guy in the graveyard had no rats for company. The people Thomas encountered were out and about, hale and healthy, no fretting over plague. So what was he?

I might have misheard, but I think there was a moment as Thomas entered the inn for the first time where the woman doing an exorcism/healing rite involving garlic mentioned the word strigoi. It didn’t pop up in her subtitles, so I won’t swear to it, but it’d be interesting if Eggers went digging around in the Dracula and other vampire lit lore to fish out other variants of vampirism to play with.

But the thing is.

The thing is.

While it would be a good Easter egg hint that Thomas’ notion of hunting Orlok down and staking him in his big rat box was doomed to fail~, it would only add up if we’d gotten concrete on-film evidence that he was really mistaking one kind of vampire for another. All we have is Von Franz’ word that ‘he doubts it will work.’ Thomas, meanwhile, has seen it work and has the memory of Orlok snapping awake and actively stopping him from bringing the pickaxe down on him—if being impaled did nothing, why would Orlok bother to stop the blow?

It leaves the possibilities split down the middle.

Version A: Von Franz was right. Orlok the Nosferatu needed the Death-By-Maiden-and-Sunrise trap to be destroyed and what Thomas saw was an entirely different vampire being slain by its own methods. Potentially a vampire made by Orlok, but not a full Nosferatu plague carrier (possibly something that needs Scholomance study), or else turned by completely unrelated means. tl;dr: Thomas Staking Orlok Would Have Failed

Version B: Thomas was right. Had he been able to stake Orlok through, he might have put him down, or at least left him weak enough for them to bring on blades and fire to make sure nothing was left. Chuck the leftovers in a river for good measure. And Ellen would never have had to die.

Naturally, the latter isn’t as cinematic or thematically satisfying. It isn’t as meaty as Version A. But I can’t help picturing Thomas turning the what-ifs over and over in his head. What if he had been faster with the pickaxe? What if Von Franz hadn’t stalled them past sunset and they had found Orlok still in his box rather than Knock? What if Ellen could have been here and alive and safe if only he hadn’t been too slow, too late, too trusting?

What if…

What if both men were wrong?

Or at least failed to see the entire picture. To really wonder at the how and why of Thomas’ affliction being so different compared to every other non-Ellen victim of Orlok’s. To wonder just what Orlok intended by his drinking of Ellen as consummation by consumption. Surely he did not intend to kill her. Rather, to let her remain dead.

(The broker yet lives.)

((As a man.))

(This is no ordinary plague!)

((Plagues.))

Orlok was a cadaver who lived. The undead must first be dead. Is it not so for every form of vampire, no matter their region?

Ellen is dead. The Maiden become Death.

(He left you to the wolves yet you prevailed!)

((The wolves only came for him by daylight. When sleep ended and Thomas’ heart still beat. The work unfinished.))

Von Franz departs, head hung. Dr. Sievers will stall the formalities of the mortuary. There are dead enough to busy himself with. Let the boy grieve.

Let him think.

Of corpses that are not corpses. Death that does not stick. The sun moves between blinks as he banishes the shriveled carcass of the Count from the room, breaking and burning it.

His love is dressed anew. Clean, for she was never unclean.

(Her breast.)

((There is no bite.))

The sun sinks. Thomas holds a cold hand. Now it grips his back, their wedding bands gleaming. As she kisses his breast, he thinks perhaps it is not so terrible to be mistaken, all told.

They can be wrong together.

[supernovafics]

•*⁀➷ ❝ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖. ❞✧∘

supernovafics!

✭•*⁀➷ a modern enemies-ish to lovers actor!steve harrington series·。.·゜

in which before you even meet him, you’ve already heard enough about him. steve harrington— a phenomenal award-winning actor who is known almost exclusively as an asshole. he’s also set to be the lead in the movie that you’re currently working on as a production coordinator. over the years, you’ve somehow found routine in the never-ending hecticness of your job; the abrupt issues you’d have to handle, or the problems that you were tasked to prevent from arising in the first place. all you cared about was doing your absolute best at your job and you always did. but barely a week before filming is scheduled to begin, things change for the worse when, due to extenuating circumstances, you have to also be steve’s assistant for the entire three months of filming. it’s an unexpected addition to your already full plate that completely changes the routine you’d become so accustomed to. and from your first interaction with him, it’s abundantly clear that everything that’s been said about him is true, so your mind is only stuck on one thought, how the hell would you survive three months of being his assistant? 

warnings: modern au, actor!steve, asshole!steve, potential inaccurate descriptions of filming/film industry (i’m trying my hardest though lol), eventual smut (minors dni!), no use of y/n, specific warnings will be tagged per chapter

total wc: 41k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

prologue ━ the show must go on

chapter one ━ some rumors hold truth

chapter two ━ it can always get worse

chapter three ━ another round

chapter four ━ wave the white flag *

chapter five ━ a secret we're dying to keep *

chapter six ━ that bittersweet cup of coffee

chapter seven ━ the art of a cinematic goodbye

epilogue — forever home *

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

BONUS CONTENT!

all i needed

[supremeb1tch8783]

Something I find really funny as I revisit Black Butler is Sebastian’s character.

It’s been years since the last anime arc release, and an arc that’s animated as a full season rather than a movie. And I haven’t kept up with the manga as much because I will binge read and so I like to let ongoing series rack up chapters and preferably finish whatever arc they’re in so I don’t have to be left on a cliffhanger for a month.

But that’s neither here nor there. Onto Sebastian Michaelis! I’ll be brief!

I find him so absolutely funny because as we see from his cinematic record in the Book of Atlantic, and later as they showed us the specifics of how their contract was formed, he kinda sorta fr hated “Ciel” and found him to be punitive human not worth anything other than a potentially delicious meal lol. He wanted his soul for sure, and he came forth upon Ciels cries because he recognized a high quality meal, but he a) didn’t expect the job to go on for so long, b) didn’t know his new master wanted to do all the investigating rather just letting him run off and kill everyone and return to eat him, and most hilariously c) he didn’t think his new master would expect and demand of him to do a butlers job in a more “human” fashion.

Things like cleaning each room with dusters and brooms, etc. or cooking food step by step rather than just waving a hand and it all being done.

But what I find so funny is that despite him being a demon, and us seeing that very often, him voicing his thoughts on how pathetic and futile a humans life or goals or aspirations to be, he has found some actual pleasure in doing things the human way.

And it’s pointed out so obviously in the pride he takes in being like “ah yes, the linens are all perfectly pressed, dinner is exquisitely prepared, I was able to do XYZ for the Funtom Company, truly I am the best butler to ever butler,” rather than the “best demon to ever act like a butler”

Like he’s lost in his role, the method acting is so strong I wonder if he realizes.

And what’s even funnier is when he’s interrupted. Cuz he’ll be in the zone getting preparations done, having the butler aesthetic going on and then Bard, Meyrin, or Finny will do some off the cuff nonsense and he’s pulled away from what he was doing, like god dammit! I was JUST whisking the meringue to the perfect consistency but now I have to replant our entire greenhouse garden. Etc.

Like he really started out so feral and petty with Ciel when he started, loathing being a butler, finding it annoying, not thinking he was gonna have to do it for over 3 years and now he’s here acting as mother, father, teacher, uncle, aunt, daycare instructor, and on occasion male prostitute to perform his duties as butler to the queens guard dog.

He’s still feral for sure, but there’s a sorta domesticated feeling I get when I look at him being such a loyal demon servant. And he doesn’t hate all humans, he can still find their lives otherwise short and pointless, but he’s respectful in a real meaningful way to people like Tanaka, Agni or even Elizabeth, and despite being a demon the chivalry he’ll show at times is sincere, and once again, he’s been there for so long. It cracks me up sometimes.

Anyways, rant over <3

[hollybell51]

It's ok - two

Navigation

Part one

Adam Warlock x AFAB!Reader

Marvel Cinematic Universe, Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3 (outside canon)

Word count: 7.5K

Summary: you and Adam deal with the aftermath of the pollen debacle

Content: referenced sex pollen and associated dubcon, SMUT, agan maybe a bit of perviness, Adam being down bad, reader being down bad, blowjobs, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Adam's not technically a virgin any more but still kinda is, reader definitely isn't, bit of angst, with a happy ending, getting together, fluff, light dirty talk, praise kink, light body worship, subby Adam, again potential ooc

Notes: this is part 2 so you gotta read part 1 for it to make sense. I hope I fixed the numerous moral issues with part 1's ending lmao also before you come at me for the shower stuff; I'm so white I'm practically reflective, so I do apologise to all my textured-hair girlies for my crimes against you with that... I hope praise kink Adam who loves tits makes up for it. enjoy.

Oh yeah, this is also on my AO3

You woke slowly, swimming up against the gravity of sleep as though it were mud. Your whole body was tingling with a pleasant warmth and heaviness, underpinned by something that wasn’t quite unease, or discomfort, but close enough. A shiver ran down your spine, and you pulled the blanket closer around your neck. Hold on. Blanket? 

You shot upright, cursing as the cool air of the ship’s interior hit your bare skin. Of course. You vaguely remembered the sudden flush of heat that had overcome you, your suit constricting like it was being shrink wrapped to your skin, the incessant throbbing low in your stomach and then between your legs. Everything after that was foggy, as though you were watching a film with a hazy filter, shot through a curtain of water. But you could definitely see Adam’s concerned face close to your own, feel the echo of his hand on your back and on your forehead. And, well, everywhere else. 

“Do you want to have sex with me?” he’d asked, as if you hadn’t been dreaming about that for months. Hell, you’d been imagining that exact eventuality as you’d frantically gotten yourself off on the floor of the shower. 

Now, you wondered if he was ever going to look at you the same way. It had been quick, hard and rough and you felt bad now for how little thought you’d spared him. You weren’t even really thinking at all, your mind offered. He seemed ok. He came, didn’t he? You felt your cheeks heat at the memory, fuzzy as it was, of his face buried in the crook of your neck, hips jutting up against yours, strong arms wrapped around your waist and your name on his lips. It was better than anything your imagination had ever cooked up, and you were probably racking up some truly awful karma by stowing it away. 

You sighed, pushing yourself off the bed and running a hand through your (mostly) dry hair, fingers catching in the mess of tangles. You were never going to skim information on anything ever again. Actually, screw that, you were never going to go outside again. At least without a full suit and helmet, oxygen tank and air filter included.

The blanket trailed behind you like a grotesque bridal train as you headed for the bridge, bare feet slapping faintly on the cool floors. It had felt nice earlier, but now you wished you’d kept track of your clothes. You’d left your underwear in the shower, hadn’t you? What had happened to your suit? 

The ship was eerily quiet, the bridge deserted but for a pile you didn’t remember leaving on what had been your seat – still swivelled around to face Adam’s for the sole purpose of being able to watch him read the briefing and notes as you packed. 

The pile, as it turned out, was a fresh suit and your underwear, bearing no traces of the frankly ridiculous amount of wetness that had made the walk back so uncomfortable, or shower water. Had he washed them for you? Then dried them, too? Your heart gave a pathetic little jump and twist at the thought. Adam didn’t deserve something like this. Maybe if it had been anyone else you’d have been able to live it down, laugh it off and thank them for the good times, but him? No way in hell. 

You’d felt something towards the newest citizen of Knowhere almost as soon as you’d started really talking to him. He was funny once you’d gotten him to lighten up, and had practically jumped at the opportunity to help repair the damage to the planetoid, even if he’d been the one who caused a lot of it. There was so much genuine curiosity and wonder in him, the painfully obvious desire to do well – which you supposed came from the High Evolutionary and the whole Perfect Man thing – and the fact that he seemed to hang on your every word like it was the gospel… Well, you hadn’t stood a chance. It had only gone downhill from there, and before long you’d been wondering what it would be like to see what constituted the perfect man up close and personal. What would the hands that destroyed so much of your home, and then rebuilt it beside you, feel like on your bare skin? Would your arms fit around those broad shoulders as perfectly as you imagined? Would his lips be as soft as they looked? 

You supposed you knew some of that now. You fit against him perfectly, like you were made for each other. His hands were painfully gentle, and much softer than you’d thought they’d be. You regretted that you hadn’t kissed him more, and done a better job of it. You cringed at the memory of your teeth clashing against his, not an ounce of coordination or forethought. 

He’d been better at it when he’d kissed over your chest, sucked gently at the skin of your breasts. You could see a few faint marks as you did up your suit, far too ill-defined to be called hickeys. Guiltily, you wished you’d gotten him to leave more. 

You were jerked out of that line of thought by something rustling onto the floor. A note, scrawled hastily. 

“Dear (Y/N),” crossed out, then “To (Y/N),” crossed out again, finally just “(Y/N).”

You smiled stupidly. Who knew indecisiveness could be so endearing? 

“I hope you’re ok.” 

“Yep,” you whispered in return. “All fine here.” 

“Sorry I left. I hope you’re not cold. I didn’t want to wake you up so I didn’t dry your hair.” 

God, this man. 

“I washed your clothes for you, but I incinerated the other suit. Sorry. It had pollen on it. Don’t worry, I made sure it’s all gone.” 

You sighed. “Thank you, Adam.” 

“I’ve gone out, but I’ll be back in no more than three hours.” There was time here, too, underlined and in parenthesis. He had about half an hour left. Shit, had you been out that long? Seriously?

The next line started with “I h” but the rest was so heavily crossed out you couldn’t even begin to guess what it said. It was followed by “I hope you’re ok” again, then another bout of heavy censorship before his name. You wondered how he’d originally signed it, but quickly squashed that. Nope. 

“Alright,” you said to the note. You felt a bit stupid checking your surroundings as you folded it and placed it in your pocket, but hey, it might come in handy. For reports or future references or… something. 

How was he being so goddamn nice? A heavy stone of guilt settled in your stomach, along with the distinct sense that he was doing this because he didn’t know better. He was so eager to please, to do good, that he’d probably just assumed fucking you – letting you fuck him was probably a more apt description, actually – was the natural solution to the pollen problem. And yeah, you’d heard the part about dying if you didn’t (which you thought was ridiculous, frankly, and probably said something about humans and their suitability for anywhere outside Earth) but it still didn’t sit right with you. Not even a little. 

Something beeped on the console, the light for the door flashing cheerfully. “He’s back!” it seemed to be saying. “He’s back, he’s back, he’s back!” 

“Yeah, alright,” you muttered, flicking it off. “Think of the devil.” 

“What devil?” 

You jumped. Actually genuinely jumped before you turned towards the voice. “Figure of speech.” 

“Oh,” said Adam, boots thudding dully on the floor as he crossed the space. “Did you sleep ok?” 

“Yeah. Thanks for… this.” You didn’t know what to do with your hands. Fuck, why were your hands so sweaty? And since when had he looked good good in that damn suit? It was ugly on everyone, no matter how pretty they happened to be without it. 

Oblivious to the mini meltdown in your head, as he should be, Adam pulled off his gloves and set them down on his seat with a soft thwump noise. “That’s ok. Sorry I didn’t stay, I didn’t want to disturb you, and then I figured you’d be out for a while, then I thought maybe I should just get it over with since I can…” A pause, a breath, then, “Go out there.” 

“Yeah,” you smiled, “it’s fine. I’d have done the same.” Should you mention the note? No, you decided. It was staying tucked away in your pocket forever. 

He shrugged, then held up his arms. “I didn’t get any on me, by the way.” 

Right, yeah, the pollen. The pollen that had turned you into a goddamn nymphomaniac. You supposed it was going to come up, and better to just bite the bullet, right? 

“Adam,” you started, stepping around your chair to face him. 

His eyes followed every movement, as if he was memorising the way a person walked. Up close, you could make out a faint bronze tinge to his golden face, most likely from the heat outside. You could have studied it for hours. 

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. It came out quieter than you’d have liked, huskier and less sure of yourself. You forged on. “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to do anything, and I just… I…” Deep breath, look him in the eyes. “Thank you. For helping me. I know it’s how the whole ‘saving people’ gig usually goes but… you did. So, uh, thanks.” 

Maybe it was trite. Maybe it was a poor choice of words, but Adam didn’t seem to think so. Very carefully, as though he were afraid of somehow hurting you, he reached out and took your hand. His skin was warm and smooth to the touch as it had been before (after all, why should it have changed?), and just like it had in the shower, his thumb moved in little circles over the back of your hand. 

“It’s alright,” he said, sincere as anyone and only just tinged with something that might have been regret’s cousin. “You didn’t have much of a choice.” 

“Yeah, I… yeah.” You couldn’t help the little huff of laughter that escaped you. You didn’t have much of a choice? Carefully, you lifted your gaze from the hypnotic movement of his thumb. It was odd how such a tiny gesture, such a light touch, could suffuse your entire being with such warmth. It wasn’t like the heat from earlier, it was gentle and soft and the fact that you clung so desperately to it probably said more about you than him, but still… “I’m glad it was you, Adam.” 

You could have sworn he stood straighter, and that the lines of his shoulders became less harsh. Maybe it was just the smile he was giving you, genuine and sweet, and wow you’d never felt so undeserving of a damn facial expression. 

He nodded. “I didn’t realise it could feel like that.” Then, at your frown, “Sex, I mean. I didn’t understand why people liked it so much, but now I think I do.” 

Oh. Oh. Right. That bit. Of course you were going to have to talk about that bit too. Looking back, you were pretty sure that you’d have thought absolutely anything was top-notch in the state you were in, and from what you remembered, the actual mechanics of it had been very one-sided. You had, if you were honest, simply fucked yourself on top of him. 

But you were not going to say that. Instead, you snorted and let your hand fall from his. “You’ve been having sex with the wrong people, then.” Not that I’m the right one, or anything. But maybe I could have been.

Adam eyed your hand, then shrugged and turned towards the panel. “I hadn’t had sex with anyone before you,” he said as he unclipped his radio and dropped it onto one of the few free spaces. 

Woah. Woah, hold on, rewind. He what? That was the first time for him? That? The guilt-stone had become a bloody guilt-boulder, and were you being dramatic or had the ship just wobbled? 

“What?” 

He turned back towards you, frowning. “I hadn’t done it before. Are you ok?” 

“Oh God.” 

“What? Is something wrong?” He was back in front of you, hands ghosting over your shoulders and arms as your mind raced. You hadn’t even considered that. Well yeah, you had, in various imagined scenarios and fantasies none of which involved the prospect of your death if you did not have sex with him. 

“Yeah, I–” You took a breath, forcing yourself to look at him. How the hell were you going to explain this? Should you? Would it just make it worse? But no, you owed him this at least. “Adam,” you said as gently as you could, “your first time should be with someone you want, because you want to do it with them. It shouldn’t be to save someone’s life, let alone someone who… Fuck, Adam, I’m sorry.” 

He had a firm grip on your shoulders now, and that damned thumb was giving you the comfort treatment there, too. You wondered if he realised he was doing it. “Don’t be,” he said. “I still liked it. And I did want to do it with you. I know it was only me because there’s no one else here, but I still… I still wanted you.” He paused, then, “I just wish it had been you you.” 

Yeah, so did you. But that wasn’t what stuck with you. He’d wanted you. He’d liked it, shit as it had probably been from his end. “You…” You stopped, swallowed. “You wanted me, too?” 

He just nodded, searching your face. The tinge of bronze had deepened to copper. 

“Oh.” 

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but I think about you a lot. I wondered– wondered what it would be like to kiss you. Touch you, feel you like… like that.” 

Again, all you could manage was a soft “oh,” acutely aware of his closeness, how he filled your vision, the temperature of the ship (which seemed to have risen), and his hands through your clothes. “And?” 

His breath hitched in his chest, and his voice was low when he answered. “I’d have liked to kiss you, stay with you afterwards. Tell you… Tell you that you’re important to me, and I don’t ever want to see you in pain again.” 

You drew your own breath. How could this be happening? This didn’t exist outside your mind. It really shouldn’t even exist in your mind. But you heard yourself speak all the same. “You could. Kiss me, I mean. If you still want to.”

His thumb stilled. “Are you sure?” 

“Mhm.” You nodded, moving a fraction of a step closer. “I’d like you to.” 

You did not like cliches. You did not like to be trite or banal, but you could have sworn you were living in slow motion as Adam leaned down the few inches between you, his lips brushing yours in a kiss so soft it was almost chaste. 

You tilted your face towards his before he could pull away, parting your lips ever so slightly, leaning into the warmth at your shoulders. He seemed to get the idea, his hands sliding effortlessly up your neck to cradle your face, fingers caressing your jaw and cheeks, your own hands settling on his wrists. Your heart thudded wildly, and you felt for all the world like a schoolgirl playing truth or dare at a sleepover, a teenager spinning the bottle with the boy you liked sitting across from you, a Guardian of the goddamn Galaxy being touched so gently by the guy you’d ridden six ways into next week not three hours ago. 

You pulled back first, but barely. “I didn’t do a very good job of this before, did I?”

“It wasn’t too bad. Not what I expected.” You could feel the words on your skin, your face so close to his that his features were slightly blurred. His breath was warm against your lips. 

“Mm,” you sighed, “that’s not usually how it goes.” 

“Oh. Ok then.” He dipped back down momentarily, pulling away just as fast. “I like this a lot better.” 

“Me too,” you smiled, stretching up to kiss him again. This was firmer, more direct. This time his lips were parted too, and he gave a pleased little hum when you moved against him. You let go of his wrists, mourning the loss of his hands on your face for a moment before you mimicked the position, pulling him closer to you. He was good at this, and you vaguely wondered if it was just the sex part that was new to him. His hands had settled at your waist, holding you steady and he hummed into your mouth, a sound that you could have listened to forever. 

“I wanted this for so long, Adam,” you murmured between kisses. “I thought about you too, you know.” 

“(Y/N)...” Adam paused, raising a hand to press against your forehead. 

You just smiled, pressing into his touch. “It’s all me, don’t worry.” 

He nodded, following your lead as your tongue slipped along his lip, a tiny moan caught between his mouth and yours when you slid it alongside his. He tasted like the falsely sweet nutritious bars you never seemed to run out of, warm and smooth and so soft. How could a person’s mouth be that soft? Now you really felt bad for the borderline assault you’d launched on it earlier. 

You’d ended up with your hands on his shoulders, half bracing yourself and half mapping out the contours of his upper arms, neck, collar and chest. Your fingers slid easily through his hair where it brushed his neck, dipping occasionally under the high collar. You needed to get someone onto redesigning those. 

He was holding you so close you wondered if he was trying to somehow pull you into him, his grip firm and decisive on your hips. Carefully, experimentally, you pushed your pelvis against his, a bolt of heat shooting through you at the hardness already growing there. He cursed, muffled by the fact that his tongue was in your mouth, welcome as anything he was giving you. 

“Is this–?” you started, but he cut you off. 

“Yes,” he breathed, drawing back enough to look at you. He was really flushed now, lips swollen and so, so pretty, eyes bright with want. “Yes, (Y/N).” 

“Are you sure? No lives on the line here.” 

He smiled, stroking your hip gently. “I’m sure.”

“Ok.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before taking his hand and leading him towards the bed you’d woken in, your steps sure and determined. He sat, as he had before, watching you expectantly. You considered simply shedding your clothes and letting him take the lead. Maybe you could sit on his lap and jerk him off, show him how to touch you. Maybe. 

“Can I?” you asked as you stood between his legs, fingers toying with the fastenings of his clothes.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Yes.” 

“Would you like me to?” 

Again, “yes.” 

You smiled, running your hand up to cup his cheek. “You gotta help me out.” 

“Mhm.” He nodded, kissing your palm before reaching up to peel off the suit, rolling the material smoothly down his arms, his chest, letting it bunch at his hips.

This was not the first time you’d seen him without a shirt. There’d been the aftermath of the face-off with the High Evolutionary, for one, and you definitely remembered stripping him before. A few moments where he or you had entered the other’s space as he’d been pulling a shirt on or a suit up, nothing more than a glimpse of midasian shoulders, the ripple of a smooth back, the hint of a belt of muscle. You’d carefully stowed every inch of gleaming gold in the deepest recesses of your mind. 

Now you could touch, too. You bent to kiss him as your fingers curled around the ball of his shoulder, revelling in the little sigh he gave when you dragged your hand down to his sternum. His heart thudded under your palm, and you swore you could feel the warm rush of his blood beneath his skin as you slid your touch sideways, your hand now splayed over his ribs. 

He whispered your name as you moved your kisses to his jaw, still soft, gradually trailing down his neck. Goosebumps prickled under your hand when your tongue brushed his skin, the sharp rush of his breath stirring your hair when you sucked ever so lightly at the junction of his neck and shoulder. Lower, over his heart, tiny bronze marks standing out against the smooth gold. You felt the skin of his stomach twitch as your fingers met the waistband of his underwear, and you paused. 

“Is this alright?” you asked, craning your neck to look at him. 

“Yes.” His eyes were closed, lips parted, cheeks flushed, and you didn’t think you’d ever seen anything so beautiful. 

“This?” You slipped your hand under the material, tracing the deep v of his pelvis.

“(Y/N), please–” 

Oh wow. The too-tight, too-hot feeling was back, only this time its cause wasn’t sprinkled all over you. He was looking at you like you were an oxygen tank and he was drowning, and how could you ever have said no to that? 

“I can’t do it all by myself,” you smiled, pulling at the bunched and folded material circling his waist, “you gonna help out?” 

He assured you he was, lifting his hips and kicking his pants down to his ankles. It was then that you both realised he still had his boots on. He cursed softly, apologised, bent to unlace them before your hands on his stopped him. You knew what you were doing now, and exactly where you were going. 

“Let me?” you said as you knelt between his legs, your fingers already at work. 

“Oh,” he whispered as he watched you. “(Y/N), you don’t have to do that.” 

“I want to,” you replied simply. “I wanna take care of you, Adam. Can I?” 

“Yes.” It was a sigh, and his eyes when you met them were so full of what could only be described as awe that you wondered if he’d actually heard you. You ran your hands up his muscular thighs, wriggling closer to the edge of the bed, forcing his legs further apart. You bent, laying a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses across his stomach, marvelling at the smoothness and warmth of his skin, the faint tang of sweat and something else that was distinctly Adam. 

“You took care of me,” you whispered as you pulled off his underwear. “I wanna return the favour.”

He was hard, you’d felt – and seen – that much already. What you hadn’t seen, and had failed to even consider in any detail, was that his dick would be – that any dick could be – so damn pretty. It was metallic as the rest of him, ample as you’d felt earlier, flushed copper and fuck you wanted to put it in your mouth right now. 

“Is…” He paused, breathing hard. “Is that ok?” 

“Yeah,” you said quickly. “Yeah, Adam, you’re perfect. You’re just… You’re perfect.” 

He sighed again, this time with something close to relief. “Oh. Ok. That’s… That’s good. Thank you.” 

“Can I touch you?” You’d already touched him practically everywhere else, and had done a little earlier, so you didn’t expect that moan that slipped from him. 

“Yes, please,” he breathed. “Please, (Y/N), go ahead.” 

Go ahead, whispered into your neck before you’d sunk down on that dick. So of course, you spat into your hand and wrapped your fingers around him, moving your hand gently to coat the whole thing in moisture. Adam’s thigh tensed under your free hand, his breath catching in his chest. You watched his face carefully as you found a rhythm, mapping every vein and curve, the swell of the head, the wet slit which you slid your thumb over – making his hips jerk ever so slightly into your grip. 

“So beautiful,” you whispered as his hand came to rest on your shoulder. “You’re so perfect, Adam. How’d I get so lucky? What’d I ever do to deserve you?” 

Your name was little more than a sharp intake of breath, and you smiled as you continued your movements. His hand slid up to your hair, around the back of your neck, fingers dipping under the collar of your suit. “Your clothes,” he said softly. 

“Off?” You paused, relishing in the feel of his hand on you. It had been magnified thousand-fold earlier, every brush of his skin lighting you on fire. This was less severe, though not by much. 

“Mhm.” 

“Ok.” You turned your head, kissing his hand before it slipped from you as you stood. You were less graceful than Adam was in undressing, and you knew you were no stripper, but his eyes still followed every movement raptly, as though he were memorising every inch of skin you revealed. You kicked your suit aside, stepping back into place between his legs as you cast off your bra. 

Adam’s hands were quick to settle on your hips, dipping under the waistband of your underwear. “Do you want help with this, too?” 

“Yes,” you smiled as you brought your hands to his hair. You’d vaguely noticed that it was softer than you’d expected, and didn’t catch easily between your fingers, but that he’d seemed to like it when you’d pulled it a little. You could explore that more later, you supposed, too focussed on the way he slid the garment down over your thighs to pool at your feet. He hummed quietly as you continued to card through his hair, fingers stroking his scalp gently. 

You followed his movement as he ducked lower, sucking a harsh breath through your teeth when you felt him kiss your hip bone, his tongue warm and silken. He did again, his moan soft moan when your fingers involuntarily tightened in his hair stifled by your pelvis. He was copying you, you realised, giving you a belt of kisses just like you’d done to him. Except he was moving lower now, becoming sloppier, gently sucking every now and then. 

“What’re you doing?” you asked softly, frowning down at him. 

“I want to taste you,” he murmured, not raising his head. “Want to make you feel good.” 

Oh God. This man, you thought for the second time and certainly not the last. You laughed, the growing heat in your gut throbbing indignantly as you pulled him gently away. He pressed his cheek into your hand again as you let it fall from his hair, his brow pinched in confusion. 

“Next time,” you told him, “ok?” Then, “And you already made me feel good. You fucked me so good it saved my life. Now it’s my turn, hm?” 

He seemed to consider that for a moment, then the confusion cleared and he nodded, turning his head to kiss your wrist. He didn’t break eye contact as you knelt once more, rubbing your hands over his thighs again, up to his hips where you caressed the little belt of copper marks. You matched now. How cute. 

You leaned forwards, kissing the spot where his leg met his body. If you turned your head just an inch, your mouth would be on his cock. It was hot to the touch, still wet with your makeshitft lube, still flushed deep bronze, now beaded with precum at the tip. 

You looked up, meeting his eyes. “You tell me if you wanna stop, ok?” 

“Ok.” 

That was all you needed. You licked up the shaft, ignoring the twitch of his hips and the sharp gasp it conjured. He moaned – really moaned – when your lips closed over the head, then again, louder, as you relaxed your mouth and sank down on him. What didn’t fit in your mouth was taken care of by the hand that wasn’t holding his hips down, not that you’d be able to do much if he decided to face fuck you. 

“(Y/N),” he panted, “oh my– (Y/N).” 

“Good?” you mumbled, though it sounded nothing like the word. He seemed to get the idea. 

“Yes, yes it’s– you’re– Oh!” 

You’d sucked, hard, hollowing your cheeks and sliding your head down as far as you could. You drew back, tongue swirling around the tip of his cock before you did again. And again, and again. 

He groaned your name as you sped up, hand moving in tandem with your mouth, hot and heavy against your tongue. His hand had found its way to your hair, not pushing or pulling, just resting on the back of your head as you practically swallowed his dick. 

You’d never had a problem giving head. Liked it, sure, if the guy was nice, but you hadn’t loved it, and had never understood people who did. Now, as Adam cursed and whispered your name, all of it liberally punctuated by stilted moans and the occasional whine or grunt, you thought you got it. The idea that it was you doing that to him, you and you alone teasing forth those heady noises and making his body twitch and jerk like that… You could happily get on your knees for him every day of the rest of your life if this was what it was like every time. 

You breathed deeply through your nose, the warm, sweet and very Adam smell of him managing somehow to overpower the ever growing mess of spit and a little sweat your hand was sliding through. Maybe with anyone else it would have been gross, but here it only forced your own soft moan before trickling to join the wetness growing between your legs. Earlier, as your mind had cleared, right as Adam had been lifting you off his lap, you’d decided that you never wanted to be aroused ever again. You were very happy that wish hadn’t come true as you squeezed your thighs together, eager for any friction you could get. 

You could taste the saltiness of his precum at the back of your throat, feel the throb of his cock on your tongue as you relaxed even further, taking him deeper than you’d tried before. You prayed you weren’t about to make yourself throw up on him. 

“(Y/N),” he choked, thumb rubbing tiny circles where it rested in your hair. That was going to be a bitch to untangle. 

“Hm?” 

“You’re so–” He broke off as you sucked hard, the muscles of his thighs and stomach tensing. “Ah, you’re so beautiful. So soft, you’re so… Oh, (Y/N)--” 

You’d sped up at the praise, fuelled by the tiny, restrained thrusts into your mouth and the tightening of his hand in your hair. He was close, you could feel it, and you wanted nothing more than to make him cum in your mouth.

“So much,” he groaned. “It’s so… so much, I–” 

You squeezed gently at his thigh, a silent reassurance. He’d cum before – in you, no less – but maybe you should have started with something that you could talk to him through. You could have used your hand and told him that it was ok, that he was doing well, while you kissed him and he made all those beautiful noises against your lips. Hell, you could have gone straight to the ninth yard and let him fill you up again, given him control. 

Too late now, you supposed. His cock twitched, hips stuttering, whole body tensing. You squeezed his thigh again, I’ve got you, it’s alright, as he groaned deeply. His chest heaved, head tipped back as he came down your throat, hot and thick and salty. You didn’t stop your movements, hand and mouth working him through his high until there was no more. You pulled back and, after a moment’s hesitation, gently licked away the mess of your own spit coating him. 

You sat back on your heels, hand still resting on his shaking leg, and took him in. He shone with more than his usual iridescence, a sheen of sweat clinging to his torso, some pieces of hair sticking to his forehead, face and neck flushed so prettily, breath still coming hard and fast. You’d done that. You’d made him look like that. You were responsible for the pure, raw pleasure painted in every line of his being. 

“That was…” He broke off, swallowing hard before opening his eyes. He blinked, looked down at you on the floor, smiled. “That was incredible.” 

You smiled back, taking his hands in both your own. “You taste fucking divine,” you whispered as you kissed his knuckles. “And you did so well.” 

You couldn’t tell past the orgasm-glow, but you thought he might have blushed. “You’re so… so beautiful, (Y/N),” he repeated. “And so warm, and soft, I–” 

Now you were blushing, heat rolling up your neck, over your cheeks. “You’re beautiful,” you said softly as you stood, leaning down to press your lips against his. They immediately parted, tongue sliding beside your own, eager and exploratory. You shivered as his hands came to rest on your hips once more, pulling you closer as he shuffled backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed. 

“Adam,” you murmured, still bent over him. 

He tried to pull you closer still, gently, but still insistent. “What?” 

You tried not to laugh at the hint of frustration in his voice. “Bed’s in the way. I can’t get any closer.” 

“Yes you can.” He broke away, frowning. “Just sit on me.” 

“Sit on you?” You glanced at his lap, back up again, raising your eyebrows. Did you hear that right? 

“Yes. Sit on me.” He pulled again, and you were struck suddenly by the realisation that he really didn’t have to ask – or tell – you to do anything. If he wanted you on top of him that badly, he could easily pick you up and place you there without breaking a sweat. Hell, he could throw you across the room if he really got the urge. But he wasn’t forcing you. Even the pressure on your hips was gentle enough that you could have pulled away any time you wanted. 

“Ok,” you smiled, steadying yourself on his shoulders as you knelt over his thighs. 

“You can relax,” he urged, his hands running down over your hips to your thighs, back up again and over your waist, around to your back. His arms circled you, head bent as he mouthed at your neck. “Don’t have to hold yourself up.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Ok.” You relaxed your legs, sinking down to rest atop his. He hadn’t stopped the attention he was giving to your neck, nosing your hair aside to kiss under your ear, along the hollow of your jaw, over your jugular, right across the tendons at the base of your throat. You tipped your head back for him, sighing in satisfaction as you ran your hand through his hair. His palms were warm where they pressed into your back, his chest and stomach smooth against your own. 

“Closer,” he whispered under your ear, pushing you further up his legs. 

You shifted, your stomach backflipping as your pelvis met his. He hummed into your skin, pressing you harder against himself, his cock hard again and hot where it lay between your bodies. His mouth had moved lower, to your breasts, sucking and licking at the sensitive skin just as gently as he’d done to your neck. 

“You don’t have to be so gentle,” you breathed, rocking your hips. 

“Hm, I don’t want to hurt you.” 

You smiled at that. “You won’t, I promise. I wanna see this tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, and maybe even the day after that, too.” 

You felt him nod, and then moaned because yes he was really using his mouth now. His teeth grazed your skin as he sucked a dark mark just below your collar bone, soothing it quickly with his tongue. He looked up at you momentarily for approval, and at your smile, bent again to repeat it. Yep, you were going to be seeing those for a while. 

“Adam,” you gasped as he stooped lower, leaving a trail of wet hickeys down the centre of your chest. 

“Hm?”

“I know I was kind of – oh – in control last time,” you started, biting your lip as he turned his attention to your breast. “Do you want – fuck, yes – to try being in charge?” 

“No,” he said after a pause. He looked up, hand ghosting up your side to stroke a particularly large and dark hickey. “I liked it.” 

That wasn’t what you’d been expecting. He was always so happy to go along with whatever everyone else was doing, which you supposed was another side effect of Sovereign upbringing, you’d assumed he might like to take the lead. He seemed to be having an excellent time exploring your body at his leisure. 

“Ok then,” you smiled as you ground against him. “Do you want me to do it again?” 

“Yes.” His breathing was heavy as he nodded. “Please, (Y/N).” 

“Ok.” You reached down, taking his cock in your hand. “Ready?” 

He broke away from your chest, looking up at you like you’d hung the bloody stars. His hand joined yours as he closed the distance, kissing you softly at first, then with less coordination as you lined him up and sank down, sighing against his lips. His fingers gripped your thigh, tight enough that you wondered if they were leaving marks, a deep groan echoing through the space between you. 

“Alright?” you murmured, your voice not half as steady as you’d have liked. 

“Alright,” he echoed. He stroked up your leg, under the back of your thigh, squeezing gently at the soft flesh of your ass and lifting you. You wondered if he was trying to get you off him for a second, then he was lowering you back onto himself and it clicked. 

“Like this?” you asked, rocking your hips over his. God, he fit so perfectly, it was like he’d been made for you, the way his cock stroked every inch of your insides, sliding smoothly with how wet you were. How had you glossed over that the first time? 

“Yes, yes,” he sighed. “(Y/N), you’re– yes, like that.” 

You wondered if he knew what he was doing to you as you practically whined, steadying yourself against his shoulders just as you had before. His arm was around your waist, holding you close as you lifted and lowered your hips, your chest brushing his with every movement. 

His lips had returned to your neck, warm and soft. “Is this good?” he asked as he sucked at the as yet unmarked skin there. “For you?” 

Wow, you were ruined for anyone else. “So good, Adam,” you whispered, running your hands over his shoulders, the back of his neck. “You feel so fucking good.” 

He groaned deep in his chest, his hips jerking up into yours. And oh if that didn’t turn you on more than you already were. Just your words could have that effect on him. Eight little words and your touch, and he did that. The power was intoxicating. 

“What you do to me,” he was saying, guiding your movements. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” 

“Yeah?” You slid one hand down, trailing over his chest and stomach before finding the mess of heat and slick and sweat where your body met his. Your fingers danced over your clit, a sharp hiss of air between your teeth. 

“No idea,” he repeated, the words gliding over your skin like water. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, “fuck, Adam. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” 

You felt him smile. “Hm?” 

“You feel fucking amazing,” you hissed past the steady pleasure-ache of his cock hitting that place deep inside you, your fingers on your clit. It was building with every slap of your hips against his, hot and tight. 

“Oh, (Y/N)--” 

“Love feeling you fill me up,” you continued. “Dreamed about what it’d be like.” 

“What is it like?” 

“Like – fuck, Adam – it’s like fucking Heaven, I swear–” 

He groaned your name again, desperate and God, you were so close. 

“You look like Heaven,” you panted, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling his head back. You searched his face past the pleasure-haze already clouding your vision, dipping down to kiss him hard. It was as messy as the first not-quite-kiss had been, all tongue and breath and your whispered “so fucking pretty” as you licked into his mouth. 

“So are you,” he managed, hands kneading at the soft skin of your waist and hips, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. 

“Love hearing you say my name,” you went on, your fingers working harder and faster. “All those sounds you make, so perfect–” 

“(Y/N).” He said it like a prayer, like an incantation, and if that wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever heard, you didn’t know what was. 

“Gonna make me cum, Adam holy shit–” 

He thrust harder up into you, lips fastened to the hollow under your jaw, moving you hard and fast against himself. “Yes, do it, cum on me,” he babbled. “Let me make you feel good.” 

That did it. The bomb of pleasure inside you exploded, fizzing out though your legs as you spasmed around him, a desperate cry of his name torn from you. You held him tight, fingers twisting in his hair, half conscious of his own litany of curses and praises and your name repeated throughout as he continued to move your boneless body. He spilled hot inside you, and when you finally regained control of your mind, he was breathing hard against your chest and shoulder. 

“Are you alright?” you asked, combing your fingers through his hair. 

“Yes,” he nodded. His grip on you had loosened considerably, his hands roaming soothingly up and down your back. “Are you?” 

You sighed, then laughed as you drew back. His brow furrowed as you held his face between your hands. “Am I alright?” you echoed incredulously. “Adam, you are amazing.” 

The frown deepened. “So… yes?” 

“Yes.” You leaned down, pressing your lips to his. This kiss was gentle, slow and thorough, and he smiled at you when you parted. “Will you stay this time?” you asked.

“Yes.” Then, “Can I clean you up again?” 

“Yes.” You sighed as he effortlessly shifted you off himself, setting you gently on the bed. You could feel his cum leaking slowly out of you, the air cool against your sweat, his spit still on your skin, and the mess of arousal around your crotch. He wasn’t in any better shape, really, but still he moved with ease and grace towards the doorway, returning in record time with a damp cloth. 

Something inside you ached with how gentle he was. Thorough, but he drew away at the slightest hint of discomfort. He’d done this before, you supposed, when you’d been asleep. You remembered him telling you he was going to clean you up, had heard his footsteps retreating, but had dozed off before he’d returned. Still, you’d woken up relatively clean, and there’d been the blanket, too. If it had been anyone else the thought would have made you feel violated, perhaps, but not with him. With him it made your heart melt.

“Let me,” you said softly when he’d finished, taking the cloth and wiping at the mess around his crotch with a clean portion. You tossed the cloth aside when you were done, shuffling backwards, pulling him to lie with you. It took some wriggling, but eventually you settled face to face under the blanket, his arm draped over your ribs, fingers toying with the hair at the back of your head, your own hand splayed over his heart. 

“I meant it,” he said softly. “What I said before.” 

“Hm?” 

“You’re important to me.” Although the bronze had faded from his face, leaving it the shining gold you were used to, his lips were still slightly swollen, his eyes bright. In the dimness of the corner of the room, with the light behind him, he seemed to glow. 

“Oh,” you smiled, then sighed as you shifted barely an inch closer “You’re important to me too, Adam.” 

He leaned forward over the tiny gap, kissing your lips ever so gently. “Can we… do this again? When we’re back?” 

“Yeah. I’d like to.” You paused, taking your turn to kiss him. “I like being with you,” you whispered as you pulled away. 

Adam smiled. His hand flattening against your shoulder blades, he pulled you in against his chest. His skin was so warm, and you could hear his heart beating, feel his breathing. 

“I like being with you, too.” 

Note: I feel like this wasn't quite up to par with what I've written in the past, and I'm genuinely not sure why or how I can fix it. I've re-read both of these like five times now (after finishing them) and have edited them endlessly, but I just can't seem to make them feel right. Anyone else every get that? Either way, hope you guys enjoyed these x

[amaya-143]

hello. part two of me ranting about the fear of memory loss in isat. is it that obvious i have autism?

part one was about the kings fear of forgetting. Go read. *clicks my fingers like a cat* go.

disclaimer not a psychiatrist blahh blahhhh u get the idea :p king rant was long, this will be longer. maybe one singular person is as normal as i am about this game and will enjoy. otherwise at least its out of my system and into words

So yeah, the king is afraid of forgetting. Siffrin, however, is afraid of being forgotten.

Siffrin, is late 20s, and just like the king lost the majority of their memories to the island.The people they loved, all that jazz i don't need to write the cinematics again. They too end up in an unfamiliar place, however they end up a rouge. They travel from city to city, never staying anywhere solid, never making any real connections for years (at least as far as we know.) To him, he is just a guy* who lost everything that they knew, and that's that. No point if it'll just happen again. In fact im not even sure if they're aware they're from that island, since I'm pretty sure he learns it ingame. He just exists. Thats it. Their life doesn't matter, doesn't impact anyone. He is forgettable

But then, they meet Mira, Odile, and Isa. Then Bonnie, and when things couldn't get more confusing, he loses an eye for them. The party loves Siffrin, even if they never say it pregame. They appreciate him. And even if Frin doesn't think it directly, they definitely subconsciously believe it pregame. Otherwise, it wouldn't be such a shock when odile says they're colleagues at best. So how can Siffrin go back to his old life? A life on the go, with no connections, nothing but the millisecond bumps into strangers and polite conversations with the clerk at the hotel desk. Nobody to come home to, no one to ask how their day was.

Its like trying chocolate after eating coco beans all your life. Maybe you can tolerate going back to coco beans for a bit, but you'll never forget the chocolate. It'll be something you think about all the time, your thought before sleep takes you, as tiktok would say your 'roman empire'.

So Siffrin cannot let them go back home. He wishes to stay with them. and thus, the loops happen.But after a bit he, quote, 'understands the king more than he'd like to'

He refuses to be forgotten, to have to go back to that life. They've lived the span of their memories being so blindingly forgettable, now someone, some people see them and its so close in his grasp. Isabeau is so close to confessing to him. Mirabelle is so close to her full potential as a housemaiden. Odile is accepting she's more than her roots. And Bonnie, the kid he lost an eye for, disabling him permentantly, HUGGED them. a massive deal for a fella whos been living off small talk and avoiding eye contact for the last 10 years. Just one more loop, if they do it all right then just maybe..

Not here to talk abt the loops. moving on.

After all these people who love him, they don't wanna be forgotten. Trauma isn't just a factor in disorders. Trauma can, and often does create its own reactions. For a real world example, Children who grow up with absent parents often react with avoiding and distancing tendencies, where as children with emotionally unstable parents tend to grow to be anxiously attached to those they love. These aren't disorders, but they are a reaction to the trauma faced and ingraned. Frin's fear of being forgotten is just as much a trauma response as it is a result of the way he lives. Who knows how many people Siffrin forgot in the island. What's stopping him from being like them? What's stopping him from being so forgettable.

Side note, act 5 is next to the Sunny vs Basil fight as my favorite two scenes in games, especially when it comes to imagining/reading about them in other characters povs other than the mains. And bigfrin is my absolute joy in the world. not sorry.

But after loops n loops of trying to prevent it, hearing off handed comments about how bonnie hates them, and how isa will say i love you to anyone except him, Sif's self worth is at an all-time low. They just don't have it in them anymore. They cant do it. we're looking at months of living the same two days over and over. Same lines. Same people. Same events. Years, if you're an insane person who does like 500+ loops. I think most people did like 70-150 though. Siffrin has been reliving this for so long he's begun to find comfort in it. It feels safe. Its boring, its insufferable, yes, but its SAFE. After suffering all those months, they're leaving anyway. They are going home. They will go home and forget Sif and it will all be for nothing. When Odile stops them from looping back, they strike. Either at themselves, or those they love. They would literally rather attack those they've gone through months of suffering just to spend more time with, or attack themselves time after time till it kills them. They'd rather it than risk them all leaving and forgetting him. I don't really have much more to say i guess i just ugh

i love act 5 i love bigfrin and if theres any writers reading this write some act 5 from other party members pov and you will get the juciest kiss.

if you read all this way, congrats!! i diagnose you with autism 💜

*guy is used as a unisex. i know the correct term for siffrin is fella. i went to gender school.

[kassandras-one-braincell]

Ranting into the void about Act 3 because I loved it, but episode 9 needed to be two episodes.

Ekko's arc and involvement in the finale was flawless. Phenomenal. Episode 7 was some of the best cinema I've ever had the pleasure of watching, and definitely the best execution of time travel I've ever seen. The 4 seconds limit was a lovely nod to the game.

I was not expecting Heimerdinger to die. Didn't think that was an option. Rip Donger :(

Jayce and Viktor's entire journey was fucking incredible. The whole Glorious Evolution trajectory was so good, but the war against the Evolved needed to span over two episodes. Going from plotting to conclusion in a single episode wasn't the right call. But beginning to end, Jayce has remained one of my favourites, and his conclusion felt right.

I'm overjoyed that Mel got a full arc, and there's no doubt that Riot's next show (if there will be one) will heavily involve Noxus. She's so beautiful. I'm gay. My only complaint is that the Black Rose's involvement felt a bit hasty, and I personally might have struggled to follow the end and Ambessa's death if I didn't have good knowledge of LoL lore and the Vision's intentions. Nonetheless, I'd be ecstatic if Mel made an appearance in any future developments.

Loved the Orianna cameo in the end, especially since she's the only living remnant of the Glorious Evolution. And honestly, I'm fine with Singed's war crimes having a lack of consequence. He played both sides with selfish intent, loyal to his daughter and nobody else.

Sevika being used quite heavily in the marketing of the final act, only to have about 20 seconds of screentime, was unfortunate. Especially since her character is a metaphor for Zaun. If the last act was a bit more fleshed-out, and if she rallied a few more people to beat up the Evolved (maybe with some of the chem barons' henchmen), her arc would have been more opaque. But hey, 4th arm's the charm. Her getting a seat on the council was necessary for a future of a joint city-state.

Maddie betraying Caitlyn wasn't much of a surprise, but it was satisfying to watch unfurl. I thought her proximity to Caitlyn beyond being sexual partners was a bit off. Mel deflecting her bullet was amazing.

Caitlyn was a consistently interesting character. Her leadership skills and flaws made her a joy to watch. The ending with her at the Kiramman computer-like thingy was lovely, because it hinted that Jinx never really died along with the outro shot of the blimp. I just wish the evolution of her relationship with Vi went a bit smoother. Them fucking in the middle of a prison cell after a suicidal Jinx disappeared in front of Vi felt like lazy writing/fan-service, honestly, and I say this as a lesbian. I would have loved a bit more humanity.

Don't have much to say about Vi. Really glad she finally, after how many years, got a short moment to grieve Vander and Powder. But another episode was needed. She got lost in the sauce, which is my only major grievance about the show, because everything began with her and Powder.

Jinx, comparatively, got a satisfying ending. Powder got something of a rebirth, and the hints that she slipped away into the ventilation system and escaped Piltover/Zaun on a blimp gave her justice. Ekko doing all he could to stop her from killing herself wouldn't have achieved much if her arc concluded with her death. Her cutting her hair to resemble Vi's weird mullet nearly made me throw up from joy and sadness. She was the perfect tragedy.

Overall, I'm happy with the conclusion, except for how Vi's character was handled. The show as a whole maintains its status as the best fucking thing I've ever watched. I really hope that if Riot does decide to expand their cinematic universe into another show, they learn from their pacing errors with the Arcane finale. Because Piltover and Zaun are tiny regions in a massive universe, and they got this masterpiece in their honour. Noxus has so much potential. I think the crow at the end and the Black Rose's intertwinement is hinting at this quite heavily. Fingers crossed.

[transhoverfish]

OK TRAILER TIME

SO PRETTY!! now, because everything in this is cinematic (and it's only a teaser), i would take basically this entire thing with a grain of salt for how accurate it will be to actual environments and gameplay. the cinematic trailers/teasers for the first two games are full of things that didn't make it in. still looks VERY GOOD and im so excited!!!!!!

onto a few specific things, this specific area ^^ shows up in a steam screenshot (which i will get to later), and considering the high amount of light and coral, this is potentially this game's version of the safe shallows! that pink fish that swims by is also the youtube channel's current pfp, and as such is probably replacing the peeper, which was the old 'mascot' fish. this character is also using alterra tech, which i think is very interesting! are we still working for alterra, or are they just such a mega corporation that they make basically all water/space gear? the diving suit looks a bit like the stillsuit with its colors! the design itself reminds me of the cold suit,,, :o

now, the thing about this scene is that it goes by pretty quick, and is supposed to draw attention to the water vortex (and won't it be fun if THAT is an actual mechanic!!! god i would be so so scared), but upon a few pauses and look arounds... there's a building! that is so clearly some old ruins!! it doesn't look anything like the usual ruins/bases we've seen before, so i would guess that these are NOT built by the architects, and instead a new alien race. the assumption is that this planet is also very much abandoned,,, which begs the question, why? not the kharra again, surely? or is it just these surface-level ruins that have been left? and if they went deeper, why? this appears to be the only screenshot/sequence that shows any of these ruins. how many more are there?? I DEMAND ANSWERS!!

also, entirely possible im wrong, but this new character bears some resemblance to ryley, imo. the earlier scenes of him doesn't match too closely, and their hair is entirely different, but this shot specially depicts a very similar face structure, eyebrows, lips, and nose! now, this could be (and probably is) a new guy that just kinda looks like him, but if it IS ryley,,,,, what's he doin here? is he working with alterra still? is he just off exploring various ocean planets? even if this isnt him, i want to know these things. wheres my guy :(

another thing pointing at this being ryley is that this game is intended to be a direct sequel (as opposed to bz being a spin off), and if its in an entirely different environment, then it stands to reason there's a chance theres returning characters. otherwise,, this game would just also be a spin-off!

(also, would absolutely love if that oxygen warning is an actual popup ingame!)

and here's the second character that pops up! the steam screenshots also only show two people in co-op so far, and i do wonder if these are two of the playable characters and not just random models/characters used for the teaser (similar to how bart is a trailer for sub1 despite not being playable, and fred in bz's trailer). this person doesn't seem to be anyone from either game (she looks a tinyyy bit like lillian, but not enough that i can say it could be her), and she's in a new vehicle! everything still looks very atlerra, though, and the two characters seem to know each other, so once again i wonder if this is a lore reason, if these ARE alterra workers, or if this is just to fit in with the aesthetic of the other games.

BIG FISH!!!!! BIG FISH!!!!!!! this thing looks VERY new and introduced in the teaser in a similar fashion that the sea emperor was shown in the first sub1 trailer, so im wondering if this might be THE Big Fish (or simply just one that they've finished the design for). with brightness turned way up, it appears to have a nose and mouth on level with the two humans, much below the light on its head. a similar hunting tactic to anglerfish, maybe? and so many tentacles!! and pincers! BIG FISH!!!!

no exact date for early access, which makes me think we won't get it until spring at the earliest. however, the first two games came out in winter (december for sub1, january for bz), so its possible it will keep with that trend and be out before march. don't take my word for that, though, this is purely speculation.

with this teaser (or potentially before, i was not actively checking this LOL), there's also now a steam page up with additional ingame screenshots and description of the game with a lot of new information!! because tumblr has a screenshot limit, im going to rb this post later with all of the steampage info.

but there is a LOT of new stuff we've learned now!!! pair all of this with this article showing screenshots the devs have dropped in sub1 time capsules (which i will also talk about in the rb), and oughhhh it is a GOOD DAY to be a subnautica fan!!!!!! are we all ready to get dragged back into this fandom?? i hope ur all ready. we're gonna get water vortexed. help.

[rotaryclaw13]

I'm Done. Helluva Boss has officially lost me.

I finally tried to watch Apology Tour this evening. I made it to 9m58s and I just could NOT go any further in the episode. I very honestly had to close the browser because I was cringing so hard. So I have no idea what happened past Verosika cutting the Blitz cake, other than what I've seen online from y'all.

And that's saying something, considering I managed to make it through the painful, cringe-worthy Stolas/Blitz confrontation at the end of "Full Moon".

Please feel free to let me know if any future episodes are truly worth watching, but I just keep getting the absolute "Ick" from Viv and Co. regarding most of the HB/HH content in 2024.

It's odd and weirdly humbling to be in a position where I used to defend these shows and the writers (to an extent), but I just can't anymore. I'm done. The narrative in HH and especially HB is so painful for me to watch, now. You may disagree, which is absolutely, positively fine!

Power to you if you enjoy it, but I don't, anymore.

My genuine facial expression for the entire first ten minutes of "Apology Tour" that I could manage to stomach was LITERALLY this:

I'm done.

I still enjoy HB's first few S1 episodes before HB bought in so heavily into becoming the "Stolitz" show (I'm fully aware Stolas was featured from the start, but he was very villain-coded in the beginning, and I loved it, and its past potential storyline implications).

And I will admit that I find the original Fizz/Oz content from "Ozzie's" and pieces of S2 E6&7 to be enjoyable. I'm still an absolute sucker for Fizzarolli - sue me.

But let me be clear, Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel were never - in my eyes - well-done, artistic, or particularly poignant. They were fun, but that was the end of it. They weren't/aren't well-written.

They're not "important", which is fine. Content doesn't have to be important, impactful, or "well done" in order for people to enjoy it.

They were fun, and fun only. But now, they are trying to be "good", and they (HB, esp.) are not that. Because, frankly, Viv truly isn't capable of writing that way. Which - again - is fine!! Not everything has to be cinematically excellent and objectively "good" in order to be enjoyable to the audience.

We can enjoy content without it having to be important.

But please stop trying to make your fun IMP plotline into a melodrama that you, yourself, are not mature enough to write WELL, Vivienne. Stop playing HB as suddenly "important" with storylines that are complex and inward-focused when you have failed to set them up as such from the start.

Ret-conning is not good writing, and you're relying on it far too much. Particularly with your dear, sweet Stolas.

And frankly, I'm tired.

We should have a "Viv Sucks" party every Halloween, instead.

[bwat5-blog]

Let's Play What-If: Arcane

**Spoilers For Arcane**

The use of the grey by Caitlyn's strike during their mission to Zaun is a subject of A LOT. Of controversy. I understand. I do. But I wanted to write this to pose a little scenario to those who are still so upset by it. I have covered the strike team and their actions, the moral implications and a logical break-down all in heavy detail in other posts. I am not repeating myself here. If you are interested I'd love for you to check it out and I'll even find it myself and send it if you want. We are not getting into that here. I understand there is a whole nuanced and deeper conversation regarding the ethical aspect of this. I repeat. WE ARE NOT DOING THAT HERE. For a very quick breakdown:

What We Know:

Piltover is coming. That is not up for debate. The strike team is alternative to full-scale hex-tech invasion.

The Grey is not fatal. I understand there is of course the possibility we find out differently later but for what we are given, we see many characters exposed with zero fatalities.

They are hunting Chem-Barons, AKA known dangerous crime lords of the undercity. And Jinx. Who has an extreme affinity for explosions. In fact, we even see Loris injured by one of her traps in the cinematic.

The Complaints

A: They don't have to be there: Well as I've said, they are option B. So yes, Caitlyn could shut it down and they could leave the unfortunate reality is at this point things have gone too far. if they leave option A is coming. Somehow I doubt bunch of Enforcers with hex-tech are going to hurt less people than a small team using the Grey in targeted locations.

B: They could accomplish their mission without it: This is certainly possible but this is the question that brought me here for this post. What if they didn't use it?

Purely Hypothetical Scenario:

Let's say the strike team is coming for old chinless here.

Okay using my expertly created battlefield strategy map. Without the Grey, that is seven armed guards each with the potential to kill one of the strike team, or, if they are still up and fighting that is seven guards who may need to be killed themselves.

With the Grey, hypothetically speaking course. They are all disabled or runaway and that's that. Even more indoors where it would be more focused. Less violence=less death.

[antimony-medusa]

MCYT on Ao3 - April '24

The state of MCYT on Ao3, just for fun. Yes I do this every month, I like numbers.

Let's get into the spreadsheet!

Some notes:

Two new fandoms this month! Aimsey SMP and SOS SMP were both new to the sheet.

Fics are still primarily in english, but we have three exceptions with significant spanish fics. Karmaland (764 of 879 are in spanish, from 751 last month), Tortillaland (110 of 116 are in spanish, from 109 last month), and QSMP (925 of 8,938 are in spanish, from 845 last month.)

QSMP also shows 48 fics in French, up from 47 last month, and 463 in Brasilian Portugese, up from 454 last month. While I did not check every language this month, I checked on the languages I knew had a fic in QSMP and we see 1 fic in Bahasa Malaysia, 1 fic in Dansk (Danish), 2 fic in Deutsch (German), 1 fic in Esperanto, 1 fic in Filipino, 5 works in European Portugese, 2 fics in Polski (Polish), 7 fics in Русский (Russian), 1 fic in Suomi (Finnish), 1 fic in Svenska (Swedish), 1 fic in Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese), and 4 fics in 中文-普通话 國語 (Mandarin Chinese, I believe). While several 한국어 (Korean) speakers were recently added to the QSMP, there are currently no fics in 한글 (written Korean).

In the small and micro-sized fandoms, HBG continued to fluctuate— going up by 5 fics after going down by 7 last month. The fandom that saw the greatest increase was the Slimecicle Cinematic Universe, going up by 8, followed by Kaboodle with an increase of 7.

In the mid-sized fandoms, Aphmau continued to be outstanding with an increase of 37 fics, but the standout was actually Evolution SMP, with an increase of 38!

In the larger fandoms, nobody posted a decrease of fics, so we aren't at last month, but it's still a sea change from earlier in the year. Dream SMP posted an increase of only 113 fics, significantly above last month's -801, but still far below February's 591 and January's 918. QSMP also saw significantly lower numbers, potentially related to the semi-hiatus and business troubles they're having, as they only posted 443 fics, standing in contrast to February, when their increase of 729 was the single largest increase by a single mcyt fandom. Empires' increase of 151 beat last month's 142, 3rd Life's 553 beat last month's 398, and Hermitcraft's 805 was the single largest increase this month, beating last month's 628. Hermitcraft is still in that early-season boom, 3rd life got an april fools instalment, and we are starting to enter exchange season, so that might be contributing to the numbers posted. I'm gonna shoutout Lifesteal, which since breaking the 1000-fic mark in July of last year, has continued to just show steady increase month over month. They're coming up on the 2k mark soon!

Overall, minecraft did see the deletion wave continue, as they went down by 217— a significant drop, but still above last month's staggering drop of 1,555, a loss equal to many full fandoms. Video Blogging RPF as a whole saw an increase of 2,330, much increased from last month's overall increase of only 51 fics, but still reduced from both February's 3,513 and this time last year's 4,182.

[willow-of-themyscira]

Willow Reviews: Creature Commandos - Season 1

While many were initially surprised and confused at the announcement that the rebooted cinematic DCU would begin with an animated series about the Creature Commandos prior to the more expected Superman film, I was nothing short of thrilled. I knew nothing of the team outside of its base concept, having only experienced the original incarnation of the Commandos via the DC Showcase: Sgt. Rock animated short. But the Universal Monsters were a staple of my childhood and James Gunn's whacky and raunchy but emotionally sincere style makes him my most trusted comic book filmmaker. So I was more than ready for a 7-episode animated series that promised to be “Suicide Squad but with monsters”. What I wasn't ready for was the ultimate culmination of all of Gunn's previous work with comic book characters and my personal favorite piece of DC animation since Batman: The Animated Series, only kept from being its equal in my eyes by one significant flaw that I hope future seasons address.

The Characters

Without a shadow of a doubt, what makes Creature Commandos work so brilliantly is the characters. The character work on display here is James Gunn's finest outside his take on Rocket Raccoon for the MCU's Guardians of the Galaxy trilogy, with some already rivaling Rocket with just this first season and having the potential to surpass him if future seasons and concluded character arcs prove effective and strongly-written enough. Were it not for one particularly disappointing misfire, this would be the James Gunn superhero cast I consider perfect.

The strongest characters are thankfully the five titular Creature Commandos. Everything that works about Gunn's takes on the Guardians of the Galaxy and the Suicide Squad is on full display here with no weak links. The Bride especially stands out as a haunted and cold-hearted badass who borrows much more from Krysten Ritter's Jessica Jones and Clint Eastwood’s Man with No Name than the four-armed alien-abducted incarnation of her seen in Grant Morrison's Seven Soldiers run. Her brilliant backstory melds the best Frankenstein elements from Mary Shelley's novel and James Whale's films together, and coupled with Indira Varma's vocal performance made this my definitive take on the “Bride of Frankenstein” character concept across all of fiction. G.I. Robot fares just as well, with Sean Gunn's adorably whimsical performance turning what could have been an annoying one-note character into a lovable presence that lightens up an otherwise grim and cynical story whenever he is on screen.

Sean's additional character Weasel, returning from the previous DCEU canon, is held back from being quite as strong a character as the others by his inability to verbalize and thus became the pick for least favorite of the Commandos. However, he remains an endearing and weirdly cute comic relief layered by a heart-wrenching backstory that completely recontextualizes how he was presented in The Suicide Squad. Though I'll admit, I was able to predict it six months in advance when watching the teaser trailer. Ultimately however, Weasel being my least favorite is like being forced to rank my favorite ice cream flavors; they're all great, but someone HAS to be at the bottom. Zoë Chao's Nina Mazursky has similar setbacks initially, but only from how long it takes to learn anything about her beyond being the token nice character in this ensemble of monstrous killers and supervillains. In this sense she can at times feel like a copy-and-paste of Pom Klementieff's Mantis from Gunn's latter two Guardians of the Galaxy films and the holiday special. But her interactions with G.I. and especially the Bride keep her from ever becoming boring, and the similarities to Mantis just mean that she is effortlessly adorable and endearing while you wait for the narrative to give the answers to your questions about her. And said answers being given when they do works to make finally learning what brought her to Belle Reve and Task Force M all the more tragic.

On the other side of the coin, a character who is immediately a blast to experience before you dig under the layers is Alan Tudyk’s Doctor Phosphorus (Tudyk also provides his voice to Dr. Will Magnus in G.I.’s flashbacks and does Clayface's wicked chuckles in the main plot). His sarcastic delivery of every breath he takes, near-total nihilism with a hidden soft side, and his being the center of the show's best action scenes make for such an instantly hilarious, badass, and fascinating character that if it weren't for the Bride, he would be at the center of my fandom brainrot toward this show.

The supporting cast does its job well enough, with Viola Davis and Steve Agee doing what they did best in their returning DCEU roles of Amanda Waller and John “Dye-Beard” Economos, respectively. But the real standout is Frank Grillo, a welcome addition as Rick Flag Sr., the father of Joel Kinnaman’s Flag Jr. who was last seen in previous canon's The Suicide Squad. He has a surprisingly friendlier tone with the Commandos than his son had with the Squad, and this makes for an interesting change of pace when he’s alongside them. It's unfortunate the plot decides to brush him aside in the latter half, seemingly just to prepare him for whatever roles he will play in Superman and the second season of Peacemaker. At the same time, it allows for the Bride's elevation to team leader that sparks what will clearly be her series-long arc of eventually letting her walls down and opening herself up to literally any form of relationship or attachment. So I suppose I can let it slide, even if I did enjoy Flag Sr.'s presence as the token human and want him to stick around.

But despite a magnum opus’s worth of protagonists and a solid supporting cast, this season’s ensemble does noticeably suffer in one place, and that is in its trio of antagonists. Initial big bad Circe is a fun and flashy menace for the first three episodes, but disappears from the narrative altogether after episode 4. And with so little of how she's written having anything to do with how DC depicts Circe anywhere else, it makes you wonder (ha ha) why one of Wonder Woman's greatest villains was used at all. It might as well have been a one-off original character for how disposable and non-Circe she is. The ultimate antagonist, who will not be spoiled here, is afflicted with what I call “Prince Hans Syndrome”. There are almost no clues to their true nature until it is revealed toward the end of the season and thus we have little time to know and appreciate them as a villain. But at the same time, their impact is harrowing and undeniable once their villainy goes mask-off. Their actions are bound to forever haunt the show.

But most frustrating of all is David Harbour's Eric Frankenstein, a well-acted but often annoying case of missed opportunity and wasted potential. I admittedly feel this way partially due to my personal life experiences and how strongly I identified with the Bride and her story. Being a transgender woman who was raised by an emotionally immature father with temper problems, and who has also been a victim of stalking and harassment, I was all too familiar with the experience of Bride being told she is meant to be a certain something when that is not the life she wants for herself and having to constantly be on the run after Eric asserts his sense of entitlement to her and her “purpose”. 

What Eric did to the Bride in those flashbacks and the subsequent threat he poses to her struck me personally as an ultimate irredeemable evil that perfectly embodied the horror of modern misogyny and incel behavior. Keeping with my comparisons of the Bride to Jessica Jones, I felt he was effectively set up to be a more childish and brutal answer to David Tennant’s Kilgrave. So I could not help feeling frustrated and a little insulted when he reappears in the modern day plotline with his sinister vibes from episode 2 mostly gone in favor of dopey delusions of undying romance that reminds one of Pepé Le Pew. These more comedic moments are much too frequent and at times seem like they're actively trying to undermine the inherent horror of the character.

I think perhaps this attempt to have it both ways with Eric being hilarious and horrifying could have been more effective if he was a more present threat to the Commandos and fought them to get to the Bride on a regular basis over the course of the story. Instead he is given his own mostly-solo side quest and only interacts with the Commandos for, and I don't think this is inaccurate, less than one second before he is instantly removed from the narrative altogether. I hope future seasons and storylines place him more actively in conflict with the Bride and the Commandos, because what season 1 goes for does not work and made me hope he is never seen or even mentioned again.

But even with all those frustrations in the villains and especially Eric, Creature Commandos bears a strong enough main cast that they just barely deter the overall quality of the season. Were it not for the extremely adult nature of this series, I could see the Commandos becoming a staple of goth childhoods worldwide. I hope DC editorial takes note of the reaction to these characters and brings the Commandos back into the current post-Rebirth comics continuity with more or less the same roster as this show, because they're just that pitch perfect a group. So long as the writers make sure to give them better villains, that is.

The Story

Reminiscent of shows like Lost, Once Upon a Time, and Arrow, Creature Commandos splits its episode lengths evenly between the actual plot and episode-specific flashback stories that for the most part reveal a certain monster's origin and what brought them to Waller's custody in Belle Reve Penitentiary. After the first episode that's entirely main plot setup, it's made easy to identify the remaining six by who their flashbacks are dedicated to; “the Bride one”, “the Weasel one”, etc. It would take too long to review each episode one by one so I will specifically talk about my picks for the best and worst of the bunch. But for the sake of satisfying curiosity I would rank my preference from best to worst as: 3, 2, 6, 7 and 4 tied, then 1, and finally 5. Ironically, almost identical to how I rank their central monsters as well.

Episode 3, the one centered on G.I. Robot, is a brilliant metaphor for veterans who lose their sense of purpose after being relieved of duty. It is not difficult to count it among my favorite episodes of animated television and just needs to be experienced. 2, as I mentioned when talking about the Bride's character, contains an exceptional alternative take on Mary Shelley's Frankenstein novel, exploring a What If…?- like scenario where Victor Frankenstein fully gave in to the creature's blackmail and actually completed the construction of a female counterpart. It becomes a heartbreaking story of a woman born from male entitlement, and her life on the run in an endless search for identity beyond her “purpose”. Episode 5 on the other hand, while far from bad contains a flashback story for Eric Frankenstein that doesn't tell us anything we don't already know or could infer about the character from what we had seen before, ultimately feeling redundant and like a waste of time. Combined with the least amount of main plot progression in the series, this episode was the one and only time I asked myself “That's it?” once the credits rolled.

The big picture plot ultimately amounts to an amalgamation of both DCEU Suicide Squad films with a coat of monster-colored paint. It feels appropriate however because unlike the comics' Project M army squad from WWII or modern day S.H.A.D.E. agents, Gunn's Commandos are quite literally an in-canon Suicide Squad replacement. After events nearly identical to what we saw in The Suicide Squad and season 1 of Peacemaker (but not close enough for those to count as official canon), Congress has voted Task Force X/the Suicide Squad out of existence, prompting Amanda Waller to exploit a loophole in forbidding the use of human operatives by assembling a team of monsters instead, “Task Force M”. This task force, given the nickname of Creature Commandos by Waller herself, must carry out a glorified escort mission to save the ruler of a potential US trade partner from a murderous witch, only for it to transform into an assassination mission with the breakout of World War 3 on the line. It is solid enough, but can feel unevenly paced at times, like Gunn's scripts enjoyed the flashbacks and character moments so much that he looked at the actual plot and went “Oh yeah I gotta put something here”. This is especially true in episodes 5 and 6, and stems from how much of the plot is reliant on conflicting sources of information and how long it takes to clear it up and set the mission straight.

In terms of the lore, it is undeniable as a DC fan that the environmental storytelling and use of cameos and name drops in this season to paint a picture of how this new continuity works makes the future beyond exciting. Even better is how these moments never feel like they are awkwardly nudged in to announce an upcoming movie to you, as often happens with Marvel’s projects. There is an effort to establish a rich lore and history so that Gunn and DC Studios can explore the past in equal measure to the present. It is like if the patrons of the Mos Eisley Cantina from A New Hope were obscure but recognizable names you could tell stories about if you wanted, but serve equally well as the background decoration or pieces of the Commandos’ past they are presented as.

But this story is not really about a task force mission or a peek into the lore of a rebooted franchise. The story of this first season instead truly lies in the Commandos’ internal journeys processing their own trauma and searching for connection that they lost, never had, or denied themselves. In this way, the flashbacks are the bread and butter of the show and what makes this first season's storytelling truly exceptional. They are designed not to tie back to the events of the mission or to be dramatic reveals that each monster narrates to their comrades in arms. They are to show us in the audience what drives each characters’ choices and interactions while thematically exploring all the different definitions of a monster. Those definitions are then pitted against the monsters of the real world: in this particular case war, misinformation, and misogyny. Without the flashbacks, the story would lose its substance and this would be nothing more than what one would probably describe the show as to convince non-comic readers to watch it: “Suicide Squad but with monsters”.

The Style

As with all of James Gunn's comic book projects so far, this season has a bit of a jukebox soundtrack where action sequences and montages are amplified by a song handpicked by Gunn during the writing process. Due to my unfamiliarity with most of the tracks, it largely became just a vibe I came to identify simply as “Creature Commandos music”. A lot of solid rock tracks with Eastern European polka flair sprinkled in, carried most of the time by the works of Gogol Bordello. The band's “Start Wearing Purple” especially stood out as the track for a kickass Bride vs Circe fight in episode 2 that carried a “let’s fucking go” hype energy I would compare to the “Come a Little Bit Closer” scene from Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2. It quickly became my favorite song of the bunch and is destined to be on my Spotify Wrapped at the end of the year. But the best use of pop music comes in the next episode, when G.I. Robot mows through Circe’s forces like grass in a euphoric massacre set to The Dresden Dolls’ “Coin-Operated Boy”. This scene was so perfectly done that every single song used after it felt inferior and most failed to capture my attention as the season went on. But I never outright disliked a musical moment on the show, so they clearly did their job setting the mood at the very least. I suspect a rewatch focused on the music will bring more of the songs to my attention and change my mind, but at the moment I am convinced Gunn’s signature use of music peaked early when it came to season 1 of Creature Commandos.

The Verdict

As the first official entry in the DCU, season 1 of Creature Commandos is a promising introduction to this updated timeline that's elevated to greatness by James Gunn’s best band of superpowered misfits yet. It’s only held from perfection by its trio of mediocre villains and a wee pacing problem as the finish line approached. But what works about Creature Commandos works so exceptionally well that those problems mostly feel negligible and can be forgotten as you enjoy the monsters rampaging through Pokolistan and weep over (most of) their backstories.

I’m almost sad the next project is Superman and not a second season of this series. I can only hope the Commandos are set to be the third most prominent team behind the Justice League and the Teen Titans in this new universe. Because otherwise I may have to march to DC Studios and ask to play in their sandbox myself just so I can get more of the Bride and G.I. Robot.

9/10, strongly recommend as long as you are okay with intense gore and potentially distressing subject matter such as depictions of stalking, a threat of sexual violence, and child death.

[world-smitten]

just finished Arcane season 2 & how could something be so good, and yet so bad? Felt like a yoyo because the writers clearly knew what they were doing, but they wouldn't have been able to take the wild swings they did without Fortiche's production strength. If s1 got around its 9 episode limitations by being lean, spare and hyper-focused, s2 goes wildly in the other direction, a maximalist "bang-for-your-buck" approach that clearly favours the animation. Like Riot always knew that Fortiche was their trump card but i dont think even they could predict how quickly and massively beloved the studio's house style would be. So the plot feels like it's structured both to set up future shows, but also to give Fortiche every single opportunity to flex their skills. Its a season that's intensely cinematic and layered in the ways it visually conveys the external action and the internal psychology of its characters. But this maximalist approach to animation is something im getting slightly tired of - post spiderverse fatigue i guess (to put it simply). But the production isnt as insufferable as ATSV was, partly because all of the characters are a stronger emsemble, but also because the operatic multiverses, timelines etc all feel like a shell to hold the characters vast feelings about themselves & each other. Like the mechanics of time travel are meant to hold Ekko's twin loves of Zaun & Jinx; even the worldending Arcane mumbo jumbo is meant to express Jayce & Viktor's love of each other, of these two men going on a journey of discovery and work together, and where that journey ends.

the problem with the high-concept, big-feeling approach is that it blows away everything that s1 worked towards - namely that this conflict was about two sisters, and two cities. Zaun becomes a passenger to the story. So much gets picked up & left behind. The deep foundation that s1 set up gets built on in patchwork, and very few characters feel like they're written to their full potential. I also think that making Viktor the final boss was frankly ridiculous - why should his journey to heal himself lead him to such a hyperbolic end? Jayce's speech about why Viktor was fine the way he was would be great in any other context - in this context, it neatly sidesteps that there were structural reasons for Viktor's illness. But ofc, when your writing barrels towards the abstract, all kinds of structural, tangible world-building gets left behind.

Much to love (Ambessa, Mel & Ekko's storylines, even Jinx's kinda worked) - and i'll forever love this show for writing black characters that fully take part in the politics and magic of their world. But boyyyy what a crazy rollercoaster. The only consistent act was act 1, and then act 2 & 3 were ping-pong in terms of quality. Eps 4 & 7 were soo beautiful, but what followed them - yikes 😬. Those godawful "music" videos at the start of each ep (so glad they dropped that gimmick in act 3!) & I'm still not over how jarring that Vander flashback w/ Silco & Felicia was. Like wtf.