#the entire perspective thing was a nightmare (A NIGHTMARE i tell you) but i wanted to challenge myself to get out of my comfort zone

[delulluart]

after work hours (or: I got annoyed by people depicting him as an old man who uses his phone like a grandpa and this entire thing got completely out of hand)

[thecoffinsys]

Slay the Princess is the perfect demonstration of trauma, dissociation, and systemhood.

I NEED MORE PEOPLE TO TALK ABOUT THIS. And it's NOT just for the reasons you may think. Yes, it is due to the multitude of voices, but that isn't all there is to systemhood. Slay the Princess dives into almost every fundamental stage of grief, trauma, stress, and body sensations regarding traumatic events that we as a collective have ever experienced. Stay with me.

SYSTEMHOOD

Not only does Slay the Princess display systemhood through the multitude of voices, inability to come to a conclusion on outerbody decisions, and having different methods of how to survive specific situations— it also displays systemhood through loss of time, depersonalization, loss of identity and sense of self, alters having abilities over the body that others do not, looping the same trauma over and over again, and rapidly splitting due to traumatic experiences — even down to not being believed by family members when you tell them something horrible happened to you.

The entire idea of jumping from one alternative world to the next after dying or making the incorrect choice perfectly displays a repetition of the same traumatic memory over and over again, the mind trying to logistically think of what could have been done differently as a means of coping with what really happened. When you fail to save the world in one reality, your mind restarts the entire scenario again, trying to find a better option to the mistake you've already made.

The Stranger rout perfect displays depersonalization, dissociation, loss of self and identity, and confusion regarding time. The second you step down a staircase, you completely and utterly forget yourself in the mundane action. Forgetting who you are, where you are, what your purpose truly is - and sinking deep within your own mind, until suddenly you're right where you are meant to be and have no memory of how you got there. It's so perfect in how it shows the confusion and distress.

This game is about becoming. whole. Gaining. A sense. Of self. And purpose. Gaining more perspectives, more understandings of what it means to be a person. (Oh my god I'm screaming)

In The Nightmare, the voice of the Paranoid displays perfectly symptoms of not only paranoia regarding trauma, but symptoms of OCD due to trauma. He has an ability that no other alter has, which is to keep their organs running by participating in his own compulsion. Which really displays how some alters have abilities that other do not, because to be a system, you must be fragmented. Several shards of glass attempting, to the best of their ability, to be a functional mirror- but never having the exact strength. And different shards will hold different capabilities than those who are smaller, weaker, and carry smaller and/or more specific burdens. Paranoid is a very big shard, I think.

Following that — mirrors are a huge motif of the game. Not only do you continuously see them in every rout, but you end each rout by finally looking at yourself and seeing you for you. And the more perspectives you gain, the less "you" you truly feel. You become tired, withered. But it is all in the efforts to "become whole". To make this being of perception finally understand what it means to be more than just broken worlds creating branching understandings.

In A Moment of Clarity, dozens of voices begin to cloud our understanding due to the very traumatic thing we experienced in the last world. A rapid split because of trauma! We become more broken; "losing ourselves". Now there are even more conflicting thoughts, feelings, and opinions regarding how we should go about surviving- and it displays our further descent from our sense of self. Which is ironic given the name of the ending!

And finally (but most definitely not finally, I could keep going on and on but no one would want to read all of that), The Narrator never believing you when you tell him you've been here before, have experienced horrors that he could never imagine, and have been through countless nightmares. But not only does he not believe you, he will also ridicule your idea, and go on to say "you failed because you didn't listen to me" or "you damned another world because of what you did". Puts the blame on us, once again. It's the same thing a lot of systems do experience in the real world. You try to reach out, you try to explain to someone you trust that something horrible happened to you, but you're met with disbelief and shamed for your own trauma. Made to feel like the guilty one when you are in fact the victim- the survivor. That one stood out to me very personally.

. . .

I really want to go on but this is already a billion paragraphs and I worry no one will even get this far. But this game means a lot to us as a system and as someone who experiences things very similar to what is displayed in the game on a daily basis. Slay the Princess might be one of our all time favorite games as of right now, especially considering the guy who traumatized us for 200 episodes straight is the main guy voicing the entire thing- that also helps with sentiment-

Uhhhh thank you for reading if you made it this far :]

[keiriiz]

Chrollo Relationship/Romantic Headcanons

Now for these headcanons, this is where my opinion might really differ from the rest of you guys. Of course this isn’t all but just some of my favorites. I will be putting a clear NSFW warning for when I start to talk about him in bed. 🔞

I do want to add that some of my headcanons would change depending on his partner. If they’re a Nen-user or not, exactly what their ability is, if they’re in the Phantom Troupe, and how long he’s known them, etc. These are just as neutral as possible haha. Even some of what I say here contradicts how I’ve written him in certain ships because I knew exactly how he would act for those specific love interests.

✥ Right of the bat, Chrollo is bi-romantic, having very little preference of gender when it comes to his s/o. And sexuality wise, he’s definitely on the demisexual spectrum.

✥ Chrollo never really planned on being in a long term relationship or ever settling down with someone when he created the Phantom Troupe. It was just another aspect of life he was prepared to sacrifice. So giving a genuine relationship a shot he’d have to really love the other person.

✥ It would take forever for Chrollo to actually recognize he was feeling romantic attraction to another person as the entire thing is foreign to him.

✥ This man’s charisma goes out the drain when trying to flirt with someone he’s genuinely interested it. Tapping his fingers as a stim while he awkwardly flirts. It’s painfully adorable.

✥ Before making things official, he may do extensive research on his s/o. Background checks, verifying friends and family members, overall borderline stalking. It’s a safety measure. He doesn’t want to risk falling for someone who works for an opposing group or who might betray him.

✥ In a relationship, his s/o would be a source of comfort, especially if the relationship is long term. He’ll relax in their arms after a heist or cuddle up to them when he has a nightmare.

✥ I said in my last post but I’ll say it again here. Chrollo is a little spoon!

✥ It’s not too often Chrollo will verbally tell someone he loves them, his main ways of showing affection are quality time, and gift giving. And for his special someone, he wouldn’t just give them random things willy-nilly, he’d put thought behind each one. Say his partner mentions needing new shoes because their current ones are really worn out. You bet next time Chrollo sees them he’s bringing two pairs of brand new shoes.

✥ He loves to be able to lay his head in his s/o’s lap and have them play with his hair while he reads. He might even purr if given the right setting.

✥ Chrollo can be touch avoidant in general. If anyone touches him and he hasn’t given that person mental permission he will move away, shudder even. So if he’s actually allowing another in his space it really is a sign of fondness.

✥ This man definitely takes notes from romance novels he’s read when it comes to dates with someone he’s head over heels for. It can be cheesy.

✥ Chrollo isn’t a chef by any means but on occasion he’ll attempt to cook for his s/o when staying in. Might as well put some of his cook books to use after all.

✥ The times Chrollo is with his partner, things can be quite pleasant. However he can still be emotionally distant. He often wonders what he did to deserve all of this. To be able to love and be loved. It’s a mental battle he might struggle with quite often in the relationship and he wouldn’t be too open to communicating that, leaving his s/o confused. Just some general reassurance could go a long ways.

✥ I feel like a lot of people go for the idea that he’d like others with similar interests or are like him in general, and I could see potential in that mindset however I much prefer the “opposites attract” trope. I think Chrollo might have a bigger interest in someone different than him who can really show a different perspective on certain things. Or even test his mindset and show him new interests.

✥ He’s protective of his s/o, knowing with the life he has, anyone might try to hurt them to get to him so Chrollo wouldn’t be one to really “show off” his partner unfortunately. They relationship could be pretty private.

✥ Assuming his s/o isn’t in the Troupe, Chrollo may ghost them while he’s away on the job. He’ll let them know he’s working, but no calls or texts while he’s away. He won’t even give a location. He wants to keep his personal life separate and doesn’t want to risk revealing to an enemy his relationship or possibly get distracted.

NSFW BELOW ‼️

✥ Before the relationship, Chrollo didn’t really like sex (as I mentioned him being demi), he viewed the act as a chore used on jobs to get information and didn’t find it all that gratifying.

✥ With his s/o, Chrollo much prefers to make love as opposed to casual sex. He likes the intimacy of being with someone he truly loves and not just an act of pleasure.

✥ He prefers bottoming though is open to being a verse. Acting as Boss all the time he really just likes to relax in his personal life so in all honesty it wouldn’t be rare to catch him being a pillow prince in bed.

✥ Chrollo’s not the biggest cock wise, probably just reaching average. He’s uncut being from Meteor City but trust and believe he keeps that shit clean with his pubic hair trimmed.

✥ He’ll almost never out right ask for sex, he’s honestly fine if his partner doesn’t have any interest in the act either. Though if they make a move he’s more than happy for a session.

✥ He’s got VERY sensitive nipples. Give them a little tug with your teeth and he’ll mewl.

✥ Aftercare is always a given between him and his s/o. If Chrollo just got done bottoming, cuddles and praise are a must. He’d especially melt if given a massage.

[tippenfunkaport]

Today Variety (see above) had an article naming Heidi Schreck as the new writer for the live action She-Ra series at Amazon that was announced back in Sept 2021 and, after seeing dozens of terrible takes and people who are fans of the Netflix's She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2017) freaking out, let's talk about this, shall we?

Disclaimer that I do not have any insider knowledge of this project specifically, this is just my educated perspective from my experience with IP and TV.

First and foremost, I will believe this project is actually happening when it is showing on my TV and not a moment sooner. Let's just say that.

Now assuming it IS happening, here's what you should understand...

IP is usually use it or lose it. If Dreamworks wants to keep the rights to make She-Ra content, they very likely must have something in active development or risk listing it. If Netflix isn't willing to make more of the animated series right now, then the Amazon deal is all they have or give She-Ra up entirely. 

If you're an SPOP (2017) fan, you're in favor of Dreamworks retaining the license over losing it because, so long as they have it, the door is always open for more of our SPOP in one way or another. This reboot doesn't negate the possibility of a continuation of the animated version or vice versa. (Fans of frequently rebooted properties like TMNT and MLP would be happy to tell you about how there's been content for multiple gens at the same time.) It's not like the new version erases the old. If anything, a reboot often makes it more likely you get content of a past gen because of renewed interest in the property as a whole.

"But what if it's sexist trash!" The biggest fear people had about this reboot was that it would be some male gaze disaster made to please the worst kind of people who hate all kinds of diversity. Obviously, we'll see what we get, but the fact that they specifically got a feminist playwright as the writer is a big thing should alleviate some of that fear.

"But will it be gay????" I've seen lots of freaking out that Adora's going to kill Catra and marry a man on her grave and other equally unlikely fears. And the fact is: We don't know if it will be gay! With this writer, the gay door certainly isn't closed, but that doesn't mean it's open either. But honestly the real question you should be asking is: will it be explicitly gay? Because the rainbow homo-eroticism is baked right into She-Ra OG so even if we don't get an explicit same-sex kiss on screen... it's likely still gonna be pretty gay.

Even a bad or infuriating reboot will revitalize the fandom and bring new fans to SPOP (2017) AND increase the chances of continuation. Say the new show is terrible. Say they annoy everyone by giving Catra and Adora a supercorp queerbaiting thing and then never make it canon or make Catra and Hordak in love and everyone is mad. (Which I feel obligated to point out is *extremely* unlikely as this is literally still Dreamworks' show. They are the same people that gave you the gay. They are keenly aware of what their audience wants so, even if they are reluctant to make it canon, at the least they are probably going to tease it.) But even in the worst case scenario of the straightest possible version of She-Ra, what are people going to do if the new show pisses them off? Turn back to She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, create more fanworks, interact with what's already there, keep the fandom alive for everyone. You want that!

"Well SPOP (2017) was perfect and they should never be allowed to make another version of She-Ra again unless it's just like the thing we just got!" Wow, where have I heard something like that before? Oh yeah, that's exactly what the nightmare chuds said about Netflix's She-Ra and if they had gotten their way, we wouldn't have had this show we love. So maybe take a nice deep breath, chill tf out and look at that fact that there is no reason yet to see this announcement as anything other than a good thing for both this new reboot and the animated version's future.

[serene-faerie]

Okay, but imagine the Darkening of Valinor and the very First Kinslaying from the Teleri's perspective. It's almost a straight-up horror movie.

(This turned out to be longer and more fic-like than I thought, so I put it under the cut)

It's another ordinary day in Alqualondë. You've just spent the whole day sailing, and you've just returned to the harbour. The city is sparkling and beautiful in the evening light, and you're excited to tell your family about your day at sea.

You stop to chat with friends, trade stories and laugh before you continue on your way home. You are completely at peace, ready to end the day with a nice dinner.

Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, an all-consuming darkness falls upon the world. The beautiful light of the Two Trees has suddenly been extinguished. You can't see anything, not even your own hands in front of you.

You hear people crying out all around you in a cacophony of shock and terror. Your heart is racing against your chest. You don't know what's happening. Why is it so dark? What has happened to the Two Trees? Where has the light gone?

People stumble to light torches and candles and lanterns; anything to break this pitch darkness. Eventually, there are lanterns and torches lit up around the city. You've managed to find a torch, and now you can see in front of you again. But you're still scared. Everyone is just as confused and terrified as you are. No one knows what exactly is going on.

And then you start hearing news.

The Two Trees are dead. Melkor has destroyed them with the help of a terror named Ungoliant.

And now Melkor has just slain High King Finwë in Formenos.

You're horrified by the news. This is the very first time someone has been slain in Aman. And that too, Melkor, the most powerful Vala, has fallen to evil.

But the nightmare is far from over.

Not long after the news of Finwë's death has spread, an entire army comes marching to the gates of your city. It's an army composed entirely of Noldor, all of them carrying blades and spears and wearing helms upon their heads. You recognize some of your Noldorin friends in this army, but they may as well be strangers right now. Their eyes burn with an all-consuming anger and determination as they draw closer to the city.

And at the very front, leading this army, is Fëanor.

The sight of him scares you. His eyes burn with the fires of madness. It's obvious that he's grieved by the death of his father, but you don't like how he stares at your swan-ships, how unhinged his words are.

Then he demands to take your ships.

His demand leaves you speechless. Your friends are just as speechless, as is your king Olwë. The weight of Fëanor's demand is absurd. He claims that he needs them for vengeance. They need to get to Middle-earth so they can exact their revenge upon Morgoth and take back the Silmarils that he stole.

But the swan-ships are the pride of your kindred. You and your people have spent many long years crafting them and making them beautiful. And above all, your ships are vital to your daily lives. You need them for fishing, for sailing. The ships are as precious to you as the Silmarils are to Fëanor. And the Noldor don't know anything about sailing, and you don't want to see them wreck your creations that you worked so hard to make.

And that too, you do not like the prospect of waging war against Morgoth. It's obvious that Fëanor and his army aren't fully prepared for a war against a mighty fallen Vala. A campaign like this would need lengthy, proper planning.

Olwë tries to calm things down. He tries to talk sense into Fëanor, tries to dissuade him from his rage. But Fëanor is too far-gone to understand reason. And now he and his people start to insult you. They scorn you, claim that you would be nothing without their aid in building Alqualondë. Worse, your Noldorin friends are hurling similar insults. The words cut deep, and you're astonished. Are these really the same people whom you gladly received in your own home? Is this what they really think of you and your kind?

And then you notice some of the Noldor rushing towards your ships anyways. You and some of your Telerin friends rush after them, try to block their path. The Noldorin soldiers push you, insult you, and enough is enough. You spit in their face, and push one of them with all of your force.

"Get you gone, thief!" you shout. "You will not touch our ships!"

That's it. Swords are drawn, and Fëanor's shouting something you barely hear.

And then, the host of Noldor charges.

What follows is a horrific bloodbath. All around you, your kindred are being cut down by Noldorin blades. Their blood spills through the streets of Alqualondë, into the harbor. Their cries of anguish fill the air. You have nothing to fight back with, except your hunting knife. You try to fight back as much as you can, but the Noldor have the upper hand with their weapons. You watch your close friends get cut down, their bodies thrown off the ships they're trying to defend.

It hurts to fight back. You've never fought like this, so your movements are clumsy. Nevertheless, you manage to defend yourself. But your former Noldorin friends don't hesitate to fight you, and they leave you with many injuries.

It's a blur of chaos and bloodshed. At some point, a host led by Fingolfin joins in on the fray and you're all but outnumbered. In the end, your ships are stolen by Fëanor and his army, and they've left Alqualondë a ruin.

By some miracle, you've survived. But it doesn't feel like a miracle.

The air is heavy with the smell of blood and death. You hear the cries of your kindred all around you; pure, anguished wailing that shatters your heart. You stagger through the blood-stained streets, seeing the slain bodies of the people you know. You find the bodies of your friends floating in the harbour. Tears run hot down your cheeks, and you begin to weep. Your cries join those of your kindred as you collapse to your knees.

Other survivors find you. They take care of your injuries and bandage them. You help them, heal their wounds as well. But there's nothing that can heal the wounds dealt to your very heart and soul.

Then you learn that Fëanor has burned your ships. Those beautiful ships that you and your people have spent so many years crafting, they're gone forever.

It's another wound to your shattered soul.

You aren't alone in your grief. Lady Uinen has unleashed her own wrath upon the Noldor, sinking the stolen ships into the sea in her grief. The Valar also grieve for you, and Námo proclaims the Doom of the Noldor, barring them from returning to Aman. The Sindar, your kindred in Middle-earth, are just as furious on your behalf when they hear the news.

But it's all a cold comfort.

Eventually, you begin to heal. You help your kindred rebuild your ships, make them as beautiful as before. You sail them everyday, care for them, use them as they were meant to be used. But no matter what, it will never be the same.

Your community heals gradually. But the horror of the kinslaying still lingers in Alqualondë like a shadow; a festering wound that won't truly go away. They say that Morgoth is the ultimate evil, but what the Fëanorians did to your kindred was just as evil. Nothing can possibly erase the horror of that night, when blood spilled through the streets of Alqualondë.

You will never look at those Noldorin friends the same way again. You become very protective over your city, and your ships. Every year, your community holds a memorial, setting lanterns afloat in the water to remember those who died in the First Kinslaying.

You swear to never help the Noldor, even if they plead for forgiveness. It will be a lifetime before you're ready to forgive the Noldor for their betrayal.

And nothing they do can ever change that.

[mossycakes]

i talk a lot about the absolute horror that daniel went through in s2ep5 and how, all twink and gay jokes aside, just imagining that night and the 5 subsequent others from his perspective is CHILLING. but the other night i was thinking about nicki, and how his entire life was pretty much an absolute horror story, complete with the idyllic happy relationship at the start that completely dissolves into horror.

think about it, one morning you wake up and your boyfriend is just GONE. the only trace of him is the open window and the bedsheets thrown back. you wonder, what the fuck happened? did he leave me? surely not, we're on like, the third story? but the door is still locked... is he dead? your friends tell you not to worry, and that this is just lestat, especially when a few weeks later lavish gifts sent in his name arrive for you and your friends. they take it at face value and suggest he just got bored, as he so often does, but something just isnt right. and to make matters worse, you feel haunted by him, by his presence, you can up and down SWEAR you keep seeing him around.

and then one day he returns, and hes fine...? and everyone is so happy to see him but hes a bit. weird. and they push him out on the stage and the next thing you know the audience is fleeing and your ears are ringing. you cant make heads or tails of this, so you follow him as he runs into a box, only to see him get shot. your ears are still ringing but youre pretty sure you screamed, and he didnt even flinch. he just stands there, like a walking corpse, and smokes vaguely from the wound. and then hes gone again, and youre still not convinced it wasnt a horrible dream, still not convinced youre not being haunted by a vengeful spirit in the shape of someone you loved.

well maybe you could get passed that. (not really). but maybe. maybe your life could possibly return to some sense or normality, shrouded by grief but nothing that you cant recover from. and then something worse, YES, WORSE! happens. something beyond nightmares. something passed describing. as youre taken kicking and screaming by a horde of... what even are they??? corpses??? husks??? suddenly this starts to make a little bit of sense, in the way that you were trying to be reasonable about this entire situation, and theres absolutely nothing reasonable or sane about it in the first place. and your boyfriend is, predictably, at the centre of it (because he always is) and now whatever hes got up to, whatever supernatural fucked up bullshit hes been dealing with, has started spilling over into your life and may just be the cause of your death.

well finally, after that fuzzy but harrowing ordeal, he takes you... home? to a dark and cold stone tower on the edge of paris? and holds you and talks to you and you think he still loves you, you think he thinks nothing has changed and that youre fine and this is fine and everythings fine, and that just pisses you off. but he holds you and talks to you and maybe you nod and agree with something. maybe you shouldntve, because then shit gets WEIRD and after everything, EVERYTHING youve been through your emotions start to spill over, and youre a vampire now, and you didnt really want to be, oh and vampires are real, and you didnt want any of this, you wanted to play violin in the theatre with your boyfriend, but now everythings fucked and youre the tragedy of a gothic horror. youre the tragic waste, you were doomed from the start, from the moment you stepped foot in paris or picked up that violin, it was already over.

and sure enough, after misery and torture and more misery and madness, long after youve accepted your position, accepted his, you make up your mind and seek out ways to bring the immortal to mortality. maybe you can finally find peace in this insanity. and the only way to do that is to leap into your own funeral pyre.

[actuallyjustabiscuit]

The Fear of Being Forgotten

Ok, it’s time I talk about Pomni.

That’s right I’m doing another character analysis! Really it’s more of an analysis of episode 2 from her perspective, but I have a lot feelings about how they are handling her character so far.

I know we’re only on episode 2 and I don’t want to get ahead of myself so I’m gonna be keeping my speculations about this character to a minimum and focus only on what the show and Gooseworx has given us so far.

So I think everyone and their cat knows by now that Pomni’s name roughly translates to "Remember". Of course the irony being that it’s a name that was randomly given to her in the Pilot to replace the one she doesn’t remember.

So in a very meta sense, Pomni’s name is a joke, one that’s given at her expense.

Now, her entire motivation in the Pilot was centered around escaping this new reality that she suddenly finds herself in. And for the first half she’s kinda in denial, using the “dream” excuse as a flimsy way to rationalize everything, but still remains vigilant in finding a way out of this “dream”. So when Caine asks her what she wants to be called she tells him “I don’t care just pick anything.”, because she’s still convinced that what’s happening to her is reversible in some way. So what does it matter what she’s called in this new fictional place?

But in the end, it dawns on her that she is, in fact, trapped. No waking up, and no getting out. The Circus is her new home. And "Pomni" is now her new name. Whether she likes it or not, this is her life.

It really adds to the identity crisis of these characters that they know who they were but they just don’t know who they are. They don’t have full on amnesia when they enter the Circus, they just lose their identities (their names AND their physical appearance). And since it’s just their names that they completely forgot, that makes this scene

far more eerie.

Because just imagine how weird it is to suddenly find yourself looking at a face that is not yours. You know what you’re supposed to look like but your reflection is not showing that. Brain cannot compute.

(Actually I’m sure there are lots who relate to that specific feeling.)

So we know that these characters cannot “die”. They can get squashed, stretched, stabbed and suffer all other manners of bodily harms via cartoony physics without any lasting consequence because their bodies aren’t real. Their minds are the only part of themselves that is. Which is why Abstraction is the only major threat to be feared in the Circus . It’s the threat, because at that point, they lose what little else is left.

I love the different abstracted designs that fans have come up with, but this makes a lot more sense. You are no longer you when you abstract. And it’s irreparable. A broken mind creating a broken body. Caine, being an A.I., treats the abstracted like they’re just a whoopsie, sweeping them away in his cellar to be ignored. They are no longer considered characters. They’re arguably not human anymore either.

After they abstract, they’re nothing.

So the opening for episode 2 establishes Pomni’s fear of this right out the gate.

She’s not just trapped, she’s in danger of completely losing herself in this place. But this little scene does so much more than that. Because the choice in dialogue here is sooo interesting.

Pomni’s dream/ nightmare interpretation of Ragatha is someone who is mocking her for not being able to handle living in the Circus for more than a single day. Ragatha has managed to at least maintain this facade of cheerfulness, and everyone else has survived for years in spite of it all, yet here Pomni imagines that her mental health is so fragile that she couldn’t even last very long before suffering the same fate as Kaufmo.

And then we have NightmareJax chiming in about how he can’t even be bothered to remember her name, the new fake name that she’s had for only a few hours.

So this tells us two very important things about Pomni already. 1: She has very very little faith in herself and 2: She’s terrified of being completely forgotten. Both pretty reasonable and relatable fears.

Of course, we know this is just a dream cuz Ragatha wouldn’t be this callous. And we see this not a minute later after Pomni wakes up when she personally comes to check up on her immediately the next morning. With none of the quiet awkward tension from the day before, just normal awkwardness because Ragatha is too gay to function still trying too hard to make Pomni feel at home.

Now, I love Ragatha very much. I love her because she’s such a sweet person while being absolutely TERRIBLE about consoling people.

She speaks to Pomni but she doesn’t talk to her about what happened the other day. And this distinction is very important because what happened the other day was awful in many ways for both of them, and one of the first things she says to Pomni is

You can’t do this. You can’t undermine a traumatic event by calling it something like this. Pomni lost her home, her name, and her hopes of escape all in one day. Not to mention she has witnessed someone becoming a monster, getting seriously hurt, and being shoved down a hole with no regards to who they used to be. Nobody has really addressed her directly about all of that until now. And it was all condensed in one silly little word. (I love how this frame shows how Ragatha is fully aware that what she just said was BS)

And when someone tries telling you that what happened wasn’t so bad (when it obviously was) it makes you feel…shitty. More specifically, it makes it look like you were not personally capable of handling the bad thing that happened.

“You’re feeling bad not because the situation was bad, but because you are lesser for letting the situation affect you the way it did”

We already know Pomni thinks very little of herself for believing that abstraction will happen easily for her compared to the others, so hearing this definitely didn’t help.

To Ragatha’s credit, she tries to reassure her that there is no ill will between them by affirming that Pomni’s thought process for abandoning her was “understandable”. But it unfortunately comes off as a little passive aggressive. We know Ragatha is being sincere, because we as the audience have the benefit of hindsight, but Pomni doesn’t. “Understandable” does not mean “acceptable”. Jax’s destructive behavior towards the others and everything else in the Circus is “understandable”.

Abandoning Ragatha a second time after promising to come back to help her was not ok. Did it make sense in the moment, yeah. Was it still kind of a dick move, yup. And Pomni is very well aware of this. So it’s likely she doesn’t 100% believe Ragatha when she says shit like “there’s no hard feelings” nor can she think of her as a friend (yet) because she’s still not ok with her situation. She’s not terrified anymore and she’s past the bargaining phase that there’s still a chance for escape, now she’s just more or less resigned to it (and only after one day which is remarkable).

What also doesn’t help is that for the majority of the episode Ragatha’s attitude comes off as a bit patronizing.

So. Yeah. She wouldn’t appreciate this level of infantilization from someone she had previously dreamed was making fun of her.

What’s sad is that Ragatha’s not acting like this to be deliberately condescending towards Pomni. She really is just this into the adventures.

Bless her heart

Unfortunately, Pomni’s not having any of it because it’s gotta be kinda disheartening to know that your new eternal life just amounts to playing make believe with a bunch of maladjusted adults.

One of my favorite scenes that I haven’t seen a lot of people talk about is this one

Because I caught how she didn’t start looking away all irritated until Ragatha said “some way you could help”. Now I interpreted her reaction in two ways: Either she really doesn’t feel like getting involved in the adventure and is frustrated that Ragatha is still trying to push her to participate or (my personal favorite read on it) she thinks Ragatha is subtly rubbing it in her face how useless she was at trying to help her the day before.

Remember, Pomni actually went to a lot of effort to find Caine before she saw the “Exit” door. We don’t know for sure how long she spent looking for help, but it was a valiant effort on her part to explore the Tent on her own, only to fail at the end. Both at helping and not finding a way to leave.

She is two for two on the girlfailure checklist. And I’d imagine her self esteem would continue to decline with every little reminder that anything she tries to help herself or anyone else is futile.

Which is why her conversation with Gummigoo becomes such a turning point for her. It also shows how much better Pomni is at talking to others by allowing herself to be vulnerable.

She doesn’t try to make what Gummigoo is going through a lesser deal than it is. I also think the purpose of Gummigoo as a character was to be a sort of parallel narrative to Pomni.

The extreme wide shot of them sitting together under the map of his fake world makes them both look so small and inconsequential. And then it pulls back into a full shot of them with Pomni trying to convince Gummigoo that he does have value because he has people that he cares about and that care about him. (It won’t be until the very end where Pomni realizes that she’s in the same position as he is).

Gummigoo makes the argument of why should any of that matter when he, as an NPC, doesn’t have the luxury of having what little he has (his friends and his affection for them) when it will all go away as soon as the adventure ends. He was only designed for a single purpose, and that purpose ends with being forgotten.

Now we already know how Pomni feels about that, so she gives him what she’s been wanting: a way out.

She offers him a chance to be something more than what he was designed to do, where the fear of being forgotten doesn’t have to come into fruition (at least not in the way he would have to worry about)

And then he asks her the very fair question of why does she even bother helping him if he’s not even real, and her answer helps to further establish Pomni’s overall character. It’s not just a short term goal like wanting to find a way out of the Circus, it’s her defining motivation that will encompass her arc for the rest of the series.

Even in the Pilot, she proved to be a compassionate person when she chose to help Ragatha (both in offering her hand the first time and choosing to go back for her later). So I imagine she will start to actively be there for the other cast members once she grows more comfortable with them. Pomni has the benefit of being the newest addition to the Circus so she’s able to look at the others more critically by just passively observing them. Then calling them out on their behavior, not out of malice, but out of altruistic concern. These people have issues, she may not be able to fix them, but she’ll be willing to listen.

(This might be nothing, but a little detail I noticed after Gummigoo agrees to go with her is that she asks him for his name (and it’s also the first time we ever hear it in the episode itself) but he doesn’t ask for hers. In fact, he doesn’t call Pomni by name at all in the episode. Which could have an indication of some serious death flags. Again, I could be wrong about this and I’m giving it way more significance than it deserves. Just a stray thought.)

Anyway, Gummigoo gives Pomni the lead to get them both out and it’s telling how little she believes in herself the way she keeps downplaying her own ideas.

Because up until this point, Pomni has felt rather useless. So in her mind, the chances of something going right for once were slim. That’s why when her plan works as intended and manages to save not just herself but her new friend as well, she visibly starts to feel better. She’s actually smiling, she’s a lot friendlier towards Ragatha, and begins to act like living in the Circus might not be so bad.

…yeah…about that.

I think we are all in agreement that Pomni is a girlfailure. And she is, but not in the way we’ve come to understand it.

What I mean is that Pomni fails. A lot. Not because she’s an anxious mess or due to general incompetence, but because the narrative consistently prevents her from winning.

She tried to get Ragatha help -> Caine was nowhere to be found, abstracted Kaufmo was hot on her trail, and the door shows up to entice her to leave.

She goes through the “Exit” door believing it’s the way out -> She wastes an indeterminate amount of time going through countless doorways that lead to nowhere and is told in the end that the “Exit” was never real.

She tried to get Gummigoo to join the Circus -> Caine obliterates him Thanos style.

That is the face of someone who thought she was doing something right for once, and was abruptly proven wrong. God really said “LOL nope” to this poor woman. (I also love how Pomni’s trauma response is laughter, really leans on the whole jester imagery she has)

That she did, and it amounted to nothing. Pretty on brand for her really.

Yeah, it seemed like Pomni was not gonna catch a break. And once again Ragatha immediately tries to undermine what just happened, with Pomni going back to being paralyzed with shock at the utter insanity she had just witnessed. Homegirl is not ok. And she would have stayed that way if not for Ragatha actually being real for once by inviting her to grieve with them.

The ending of this episode truly caught me off guard.

Not poor Gummigoo’s “death”, that I actually expected, but it was still shocking to see.

No. much like Pomni, I wasn’t expecting the others to actually throw Kaufmo a funeral (and apparently this is a custom that they do regularly, which is bittersweet). And I wouldn’t have blamed Pomni for believing that they don’t really care about each other because all of them saw Kaufmo be thrown into the cellar and then the they all proceed to just eat dinner as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

I’ll be frank here, I didn’t get emotional from that scene because of Kaufmo. He never had a speaking part or even an actual on screen appearance; the man had no character outside of telling bad jokes and that had to be given through exposition, so there was no resonance in his “death”. But that is clearly intentional because they didn’t even bother making the other’s eulogies about him be audible. Pomni has never met Kaufmo, she never knew him, so her attending a funeral for someone she had no real connection with is odd.

And that’s because all Pomni needs and by extension what we need to know is to see that he clearly meant something to the characters we HAVE been spending time with. This funeral was less about mourning Kaufmo and more about putting Pomni’s fears to rest that even if she were to abstract, she would not be forgotten. And even more importantly, these people genuinely do care about each other (Jax is still up in the air, but 4/5 ain’t bad). So if anything could make Pomni more comfortable in her new home, it’s the affirmation that she’s not alone (Hence the title of the theme that closes the episode). So abstraction won’t come as easily as she previously thought.

It’s remarkable that the writers managed to make a FUNERAL feel like we were ending on a high note compared to the dread that the ending of the Episode 1 evokes. And I really like that because everything from the gentle music, to the visuals of everyone being sincerely doleful, to Pomni’s small smile at the end really stresses how this show isn’t trying to be nihilistic with its premise. That Pomni, in spite of everything, is going to be ok.

[leonw4nter]

Sharp Teeth and Sandy Woodland

RE2R!Leon x GN!Reader

!! CONTENT WARNING : Graphic description of bones and muscles making unsettling noises. Don't proceed if you're not comfortable with that!

You knew that something was wrong with your fellow Raccoon City survivor Leon Kennedy when he began exhibiting bizarre behaviors shortly after the government discovered both of you, along with a kid named Sherry and a college student around your age range named Claire. He seemed to be more thirsty than usual, his throat and eyes parched more often than not despite the amount of water he consumes daily. The food served at the temporary housing that the government gave you two wasn’t too bad or dry, for you at least. The rookie cop with you, though, disagreed and expressed dislike for certain starchy and grainy dishes.

“What happened to self-proclaimed “Mr. Not A Picky Eater”?,” you jokingly ask after Leon complained about the potatoes making his mouth feel dehydrated. “You were telling me to suck up those bitter herbs but now you can’t even handle potatoes.”

Leon groaned after finishing an entire bottle of water, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Not sure. I could handle potatoes just fine back then. Probably just adjusting to the temperature differences.”

You nod, taking another forkful of the meal as you watch Leon grimace before shoving another spoonful into his mouth. Swallowing looked a little uncomfortable for him so you assume that he must’ve been coming down with a sore throat or some sort of nasal malady.

“You could use a trip to the doctor, I think you’re going to get a cold.”

“Yeah, probably.”

A day or two after that conversation, Leon came home with a normal check-up result. He asked the doctor if he was coming down with an allergy but after doing the RAST and the skin prick test if he somehow developed allergies during his short stay in Raccoon City, the doctor confirmed that he had no allergies, which concerned both the patient and doctor. He didn’t wish to reveal and explain the sudden speedy growth of body hair and the presence of it in places that it has never grown in before, like the back of his hands and lower back. He kept other bodily changes to himself, not wanting to alert you and bring unwanted attention which would cause some complications with the protection and surveillance that the government placed you two under. Sherry would also somehow be dragged into the mess he’d create if they found out about him and that is the last thing he wanted the 12-year-old to experience; she’d been through enough and officials were being odd regarding her custody.

Months later, you would notice that his blue eyes also reflected back light, like an animal’s eyes; you shot up in the middle of the night, rattled and drenched in sweat after another nightmare. In your dazed state, you reached for a flashlight and the nearest thing that qualified as a weapon at that moment– a bedside clock. Your roommate shot up as well, getting on his feet and on high alert when he heard your screech of terror, ready to defend you and himself from any threat in the dark. You pointed the light source to the source of the thudding noise, the bright beam pointed straight towards the blond’s eyes. Due to the angle of the flashlight relative to your perspective, you easily saw the greenish-yellow orbs glow which you confused for a threat and sent the clock in your hand airborne, aimed towards him. Leon cursed, rubbing his shoulder that was hit as he looked back at you to clear the confusion clouding his mind. You turned the lamp on, trying to make sense of everything that has just happened as you sink to the side of the bed and attempt to level your breathing.

“Are you okay?!” Leon springs into action, forgetting the ache in his shoulder as he walks over to help you try to calm down. “Please tell me what you need, you’re safe now.”

Your gaze averts his eyes, not wanting to relive the fear that overwhelmed you by surprise when they glowed in the dark. You shut them, hanging your head low but still paying attention to Leon’s soothing voice and instructions, counting to 10 and raising your arms over your head as you gradually calmed down.

“Nightmare?” He asked in a soft voice full of concern, pity expressed on his weary features. Many times he had also woken up like this, needing consolation from you while he shook and sobbed in your arms.

You nod, suddenly aware of the sweat you accumulated and Leon’s fever-like temperature. The concern you had shifted, going from trying to regain your bearings to the disquietude for his health.

“Oh my God, Leon, you’re burning! Get in bed, I’m going to try and get your fever down.”

“Fever?” the 21-year-old echoed, fogged. “I’m fine? I don’t have a fever, nothing’s wrong with me. Promise.”

“Please just get in the bed,” you gently pleaded as you helped him get up and walked him to his side, pushing the thoughts regarding his eyes aside.

Not wanting to argue, he follows you and lays down like he’s instructed to do. Taking his dampened sleep shirt off, he chucks it to the side and sits up against the headboard, the solid frame cool against his searing skin. You emerge from the bathroom with cold water in a bowl, a towel drenched inside. Your face is also splashed with water, some hairs sticking to your damp forehead. You walk to his side before wringing the water from the towel then placing the towel on his forehead, checking the time and subtracting by your estimated amount of minutes that has passed since he helped you calm down from the panic attack.

“C’mon, I don’t have a fever,” he carefully reasons, yet he continues to stay still. “I’m always warm, you know that. Don’t worry ‘bout me, I’m strong despite being a rookie ya know.” He throws in that cockiness, smirking to get your worry down.

“You’re not just ‘warm’, you’re burning up. Stop whining, I’m going to sleep beside you so I can monitor your temperature.” You say as you get comfortable beside him, maintaining a respectful distance before you can lazily drape your forearm over your eyes and try to get some sleep again. “Oh, yeah. I’m really sorry about your shoulder, I was terrified and I just did what felt like the most logical thing at the moment.”

He chuckles, clearing his throat before he speaks. “It’s fine, been through worse. Sleep well, we’ll need it.”

Exhaustion claims you, lulling you into another slumber but deep down you know it’s only a matter of time until the images of death and decay flash on your shut eyes then it’s time to wake up with your heart rattling against your rib bones, adrenaline pumped through your veins. Sometime in the middle of the night, your body nears his and coddles against his side where you feel his warmth the most. The feeling of hair brushing against his skin causes his consciousness to toe the line between sleep and waking, vaguely aware of your body near himself. His consciousness crosses the border of sleep and into waking, his lids slowly lifted like the red drapes of movie houses. He takes the towel off of his forehead, carefully placing it back inside the bowl you set on his bedside table. His tired gaze falls on your sleeping form, his person overcome by the feeling to tuck you against his body, huddling up, and resting his head against your chest to hear your heartbeat. The feeling is strong, too strong, and at the realization that he’s trying to quell these bothersome impulses, he whines like a desperate dog.

As quickly as the embarrassing vocalization leaves his lips, he wraps a hand around his own mouth as his cheeks burn pink in shame while he sits up and rethinks every single decision he’s made in life. He looks at you, registering the faint sounds of your breath in sync with the slow rise and fall of your chest as you sleep; he wonders if you’ve always breathed that loud, maybe he should ask tomorrow if you’ve got any difficulty breathing so he can accompany you to the doctor to get it checked. Running his calloused palm down the side of his face, he adjusts himself to properly lay down and try to catch some shut eye before he starts to hear the first bird chirp. He can only hope that you didn’t hear him make that canine noise.

The morning after was definitely awkward, not because of your panic attack but because of you seeing Leon’s eyes reflect light and him thinking that you must’ve heard him whine. Breakfast was silent, save for the clanking of silverware against porcelain and him asking if you’d like some slices of his fruit. Well, your silverware since he opted to use plastic utensils because the silverware left itchy red spots on his large palm. You were trying to piece his eyes glowing together but nothing made sense; only animals have the membrane that causes light to bounce back and the membrane also helps with seeing in the dark. Humans don’t have it and it’s impossible for a human to be having one since we can’t just develop one randomly so Leon’s eyes definitely threw you off. His temperature was still unusually high but he didn’t look or act ill, he ate just fine… as fine as drinking 3 bottles of water in a single hour can get for him. Leon avoided eye contact, ashamed of the fact that you probably see him somewhere near a mutt or a sex-crazed freak who can’t hold his urges back. He can try to convince you but he thinks that he’ll look even more creepy and defensive, making your perception of him worse. The blond decides to wait until you say something about it or a future conversation will lead to this specific topic. In the meantime that you don’t seem ready to speak to him yet, he’ll go to a local grocery store and buy some waxing strips. It’s for them, he’ll say if an agent follows him to the local grocer like he expects one to and wants to know the reason for him buying such a product. He can’t have anyone know that this is for himself, to try and rip out the ridiculous amount of hair growing in the dip of his spine because shaving isn’t doing the job anymore. Maybe even find a nail file to try and blunt the equally speedy growth of his nails so he wouldn’t accidentally scratch himself or you or anyone.

The breaking point came for Leon after three months since the first symptom, a month away from his deployment to a bootcamp to begin his specialized training before being assigned to work under USSTRATCOM. He woke up feeling crusty, his joints sore and achy like he’d ran and ran until the sun took the place of the moon and stars in the sky. He was also coming down with a sore throat– no, not a sore throat but the driest, most dehydrated mouth he’s ever had. He had done nothing all day but locked himself in the empty storage room of your apartment with a bag of different cuts of grilled meat, scarfing them down like he’s never eaten in all 21 years of living. Despite the room having a working bulb, he didn’t want to turn it on because he found it too bright and irritating for his sensitive eyes that were more suited in a dark environment like he’s currently in. With each bite, he felt like he was going crazy and was slowly losing himself, becoming more crazed and desperate to start running barefoot.

You had already given him a weird look after he came back from the store with his food, bolting to the storage room and telling you to not disturb him; you had the feeling that he was feeling a lot more than he was letting on but you let him do what he wanted to do but you were ready to step in if he needed something. He let out a yelp and placed his food back in its container, a hand coming up to rub the spot of his cheek that he accidentally bit. He ran his tongue to soothe the area, tasting a metallic tinge as the muscle made contact with the tiny cut. The wound stung more than it usually did on the occasions that he accidentally bit his cheek so he felt for his teeth if they were truly that sharp to be causing him that much pain; his canines and incisors were pointier than he remembered them to be.

He ran a finger along the edges and poked the pointy tips on the pad of his finger, the edges of his teeth less smooth and more serrated; he knows that this change is recent because he always kept his teeth in good condition and made sure to brush and floss daily, keeping his sugar intake to a limit to prevent cavities. Now that he is not eating, he observed that the gums in the base of his canines were slightly sore but not overly bothersome. His mind is going into overdrive, worried that all these bodily changes were the symptoms of another virus strain’s infection. He wanted to turn himself in to the government so he could stop himself before he lost control of his mind and dared to put you, Sherry, and Claire in harm’s way but he also didn’t want to; he was afraid of what they would do to him, what they would do to you since you’re the one living closest to him. He knows the might of the government, what they wish to do with him if he happens to fall on the side of what they viewed as their enemy. They bombed Raccoon City despite knowing that there could still be survivors who haven’t gotten the chance to get out, what more could they do to a possible lycanthrope under their custody?

“Leon? You okay in there?” your voice comes out from the other side, knocking softly with your ear pressed against the wood of the door. “You haven’t gone out in a while and it's dark out. You’re not locked in there, are you?”

His bones begin to bother him again, aching and draining all his energy. He lays on the floor, taking deep breaths so you wouldn’t hear him growl and yell out of pain.

“‘M fine,” he hisses. “Just… go… I-I’m… fine…”

You barely part your ear from the door when you hear the crackle and pop of bones, eyes widening at how loud and spontaneous the crackling was. A borderline animalistic growl follows suit, now accompanying the nasty cacophony of bones sounding like they were being rearranged and clothes ripping.

“Leon!” you exclaim, palm pounding against the door. “I’m gonna get you out! Hold on!”

You run to your room and open the lowest drawer, taking the storage room key and speeding back to the door that separates Leon from you. To and from your room, the nasty blend of grotesque noises don’t halt and neither does the pained growls, hissing, and whining coming from Leon. Thanking the gods for pitying on you and your roommate, the knob isn’t jammed and easily unlocks with a tilt. You expect a scene of gore to unfold, a deep red adorning the white walls like an abstract painting or pieces of pink flesh that contrasts the brown hardwood floor but you are not greeted by any of those yet the sight before you still made you feel whiplash, your heart pumping fast to push liquid fear into your veins and petrify you on the spot; a large wolf that you estimate to be 6 feet long with light brown eyes stares back at you, its body curled away from yours and is backed into a corner by the wall. The wolf’s fur features a sandy brown foundation with patchy highlights of blond, its coat resembling a sun-dappled forest floor. Drool drips from the side of the beast’s mouth, fangs bared towards you.

Underneath the thick and rich coat, you spot Leon’s coat and pants that have been torn to bits, the fabric indiscernible from its former state as clothing. Too terrified to scream, you simply back off and slap a hand around your mouth, tears obscuring the large wolf in front of you as you try not to think and visualize the worst: Leon in mangled bits inside the canine’s stomach. You turn around and leap atop of furniture, getting your phone to call animal control with a shaky hand. You don’t know how the animal got here and how it ate Leon without making a mess of his flesh and bones despite the snacking it did on your unfortunate friend but you’re desperate to get it out and properly grieve. You turn all light switches you pass by on, trying to blind and irritate the wolf’s vision but it beats you to reaching the room, the beast pouncing on you, and pinning you to the cold hardwood floor as nasty drool drips on your collarbone. You try to kick yourself free and push what felt like a hundred pounds of weight from your legs away, screaming and crying but the wolf doesn’t budge and instead, digs its snout in the right side of your neck and inhales deeply. You truly acknowledge keeping wildlife safe, you really do, but all rational thought escapes you and your brain is focused on surviving so you smack the canine on the side of its head, stunning it for a moment before you crawl to safety.

The discordance of bones cracking, loud whining, and claws scratching the floor once again resumes, freezing you in your spot as you watch the sight a few feet away from your legs. Collapsing on its side, the canine’s body shakes violently as it growls and howls. Bones and muscles reorganizing itself poke lightly through the skin, rippling the fur; inky black pupils constrict into tiny black dots, milky chocolate irises shifting to an amber shade and amber changing to hazel before settling on blue shocks you out of your state of being frozen still, finally reaching your phone and contacting the local animal control to come pick the animal up. After coordinating with officials and telling them about Leon, you share your address and hesitantly hang up the phone. The vile noises finally end, silence coming in to fill the soundless gap before the next disturbance, which prompts you to carefully inch your door open, a tiny gap before fully holding it open.

It takes you more than a few moments to properly comprehend the sight before you, rubbing your eyes, and pinching yourself to check if you’re really awake and all this is reality; it is and now a small flushed welt is on your left forearm. Leon is on the ground, butt-naked, and laying in a pile of patchy brown and blond fur, some of it sticking on his sweaty skin. He’s unconscious and very unusually pale, posed in the same way as the wolf was before you called. As for the wolf, the wolf is gone; it didn’t leave trashed furniture and more scratched tiles in its wake when it saw itself out. It just disappeared… or turned into Leon instead… or was it the other way around? You pick Leon up (with much difficulty), placing him on his bed before covering his lower half with a blanket and wiping the sweat from his body. Deciding to check up on his vitals, you shine a light through his eyes and relief joins in the adrenaline coursing through your system when they dilate under bright light and return back to a normal size when you take the light away. His pulse is still heightened but they’re in the normal range otherwise. He’s still unconscious but you swear you can see atypically sharpened canines poke out from pale pink parted lips; drool appears to be dried from the side of his mouth, going down into his jaw, just like the wolf’s.

Sitting by his bedside, trying to calm down as you drink a glass of water to recollect and try to process what just happened, you remember all of Leon’s peculiar behaviors prior to now and it all makes sense that Leon could be the wolf– a constantly dry throat, increased gusto for meat, reflective eyes, abnormal speed of hair and nail growth, added strength, and dislike for things with silver. You call back the animal control’s number, telling them that everything’s okay now and that you were simply seeing things, apologizing profusely for wasting time and effort. Setting the phone down, you gaze down on Leon and enumerate the things you’re going to tell him once he wakes up: ask him if he’s a lycan and what you can do to help him now that his life’s changed. In the meantime, you wonder how Leon will fare in the military bootcamp a month from now if this is going to be a regular occurrence. If he’s the wolf. If you’ll accept that he’s a werewolf. If they’ll find out that he’s a werewolf.

NOTE - YOOOO YA GIRL IS NOW ENROLLED IN A NEW SCHOOL RAHH!!! I've taken another step towards my dream of becoming a doctor but at the same time, I'm still a long ways to go but we got this yk!! That aside, I decided to write a werewolf!Leon fic because I remember coming across a fluffy werewolf!Leon fic on AO3 and I rlly loved it so I had to contribute smn to the werewolf!Leon works (that aren't smutty, which is super few). Requests are still open so feel free to continue to drop them :)) I wanna write something angsty next but then I have another fluffy fic idea in my head so the angst will have to wait >:) Anyways, that's it and thank you for reading my fic!!!!!!!!!!! I <333333333333 UUUUUUUUU AND HAPPY PRIDE TO MY QUEER READERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The star dividers are from @saradika , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[primus-why]

I Feel TFOne Could've Handled This Better...

Hot take but I feel like folks have been really generous with the take that OP was unable to find ~the perfect words~ in the heat of the moment (and thus should be given some grace) when he told D to stand down and "not be like Sentinel"... namely cuz I don't feel that the narrative supports this?

Like-- after all is said and done, OP doesn't reflect on that part of their split. He doesn't have a moment where he seeks validation or voices his regrets over the choice of his words, it's actually cut-and-dry. The narrative (as it stands) supports that OP saw D-16 acting up, so he called him out and stood on business, down to the last scenes where he's basically like "yeah it's a shame but y'all knew I had to do it to 'em."

It didn't have to be much! I'm not saying to absolve Megs, just show OP looking at things from a different perspective/contemplating a bit on that tough choice and the morality of the moment. Some examples of what I wish we had:

B-127 straight up blurting the obvious by later chatting with Orion like, "Wait so you told your best friend that he was acting just as bad as the guy who enslaved us for our entire lives and was torturing him like an hour ago? Oof. Seems kinda harsh." Then have some of OP's regret show on his face.

OP asking Elita-1 after Megs is banished if he did the right thing. Have Elita back his choice up, saying, "You should have seen what he did after you were... gone. It was terrifying. I know it was tough, but you made the right call." OP is grateful for the support, but a conflicted look still flashes across his face before he steels himself to look out towards the horizon... and the future.

Have OP walk past other mechs/former miners who didn't go with the High Guard saying stuff like, "Wish I could've given Sentinel a piece of my mind!" "Yeah, but I'm glad he's gone for good." "Ugh I miss everything." "Oh, it was crazy! Megatron picked him up and then he rrrrriiipped-- oops, hey there, Mr. Optimus... Prime... sir?" And have OP wave hello, looking a bit sick when they leave.

Post-credits scene with Starscream going on and on, asking Megs when they'll be back to teach the upstart Prime a lesson. Megs grabs his face to shut him up. "Patience, Starscream. The Prime thinks I'm no better than Sentinel... but I'll show him. He wants Iacon? He can have it. In the meantime we'll take the rest of the planet! Then I'll come back, crush Prime under my heel, and we'll take Iacon too. Sentinel's reign will barely be a footnote, because I'm about to become Optimus Prime's worst nightmare." The vocal performance would really need to sell this-- like picture Megs saying something like that from a place of anger and hurt, not so much a place of genuine evil or malice.

Basically instead of Orion's assertion being backed up as black and white/good vs bad, I wish we had some different opinions/reactions from the characters sprinkled in there. Like you can't tell me out of allllll the miners who weren't strong enough/willing to go with the High Guard and ended up sticking around that NONE of them were like "eyyo honestly?? Kiiiiinda glad Sentinel is dead. Wish I could have helped, tbh." like come onnnnn...

And you can't even argue that he's not an active threat-- I don't think everyone would see things that way! It's not just about the threat he physically has, but the threat he represents and is very likely to act upon if given the opportunity! He has a proven track record of not only being sneaky and conniving, but also capable of dealing some serious damage/killing people bigger and stronger than him, plus he has the backing of the Quints. All he'd need to do is wriggle his way out of jail and run off to his sponsors, then he'd probably be back to hurt more people! (If the Quints didn't just kill him out of incompetence lmao). There's a lot of "ifs" here, but I think it's a valid argument that not everyone would agree on what is the right or wrong way to handle Sentinel once he was down long enough to, like, do something about him.

I feel the situation needed a bit of nuance. In some way I wish they had kicked the can and had D and Orion bicker while Sentinel escaped, then have D get frustrated enough by the loss of Sentinel to point fingers (and his fusion canon) at Orion, who then falls and becomes OP. (Megs could still show some of thar emotion/remorse right after he does it too.) Not only would this open the door for a sequel, but tbh the Quint might have just killed Sentinel anyways and sought to deal with the miners uprising themselves lol. (Maybe that could have been an after credits scenes too instead of the B-127 bit??)

Would love to see a moment in a sequel where they have a calmer moment after arguing for a bit. Have OP mention how Megs was out of line, that it hurt and even scared him to see him act that way, and Megs can quietly point out "you said I was as bad as Sentinel... is that really how you see me? After everything we went through?"

Then OP can fumble the bag again lmao like "D, I... I'm sorry, that didn't come out right... but you still took things way too far..."

"Why am I not surprised-- your opinion is what matters the most! Maybe that's why you became a Prime, since you're so good at acting like the world revolves around you--!"

*gets interrupted by someone else before another yelling match ensues*

[o-sunny-day]

OKAY SO

I have very strong feelings twords this animation. such strong feelings that i understand i have no other option than to respond through needlessly wordy paragraphs, and horrific reaction images that perfectly encapsulate emotions felt deep within my soul (that this AU, for whatever reason, tears out every single time without mercy.)

Enjoy. (if you want.)

There are 2 moments in this that stood out to me in the reactions department, so I wanna analyze them specifically, before going over some extra smaller things

THIS ONE FIRST.

the lyrics OUUUUUUUGGGHH THE LYRICS.

“To Run Away Is Easy, Its The Leaving Thats Hard.” is such a RAW LINE im obsessed with it, and Wingdings having DOUBT on his face is what gave me such an **AAAAAAA** reaction.

im pretty confident in saying that within the AU, this’d be about how disconnected he has become due to what he knows now. How RUNNING AWAY feels like the only option in surviving this nightmare-scenario he’s found himself in. Your entire reality being proven to just be code within the very machines you’ve based your entire life off of.

But then Wingdings also finds he has doubts about running away from that, due to- yknow- LEAVING HIS LOVED ONES N ALL THAT. Leaving everything behind is easy, but leaving everyONE behind is hard

But- with the doubt being the reason why I had such strong feelings towards this scene in the first place… I HAD NO IDEA WHY WHY I WAS SURPRISED. I never suspected Wingdings to be an over the top movie monster who has no concern for his actions and how they will affect people, if anything id think he’s oblivious to that kind of thing. Willingly ignorant. But for some reason, seeing him have this doubt just made me go “HEEEEEYYYYYYUH”

But I think thats mainly because, Its not something I was waiting for. it surprised me in a way, that I REALLYYYY LIKE it makes me consider a new perspective that I only felt subconsciously, AND I LOVE IT!!!

NEXT PART! THE WORST PART! THE PART THAT MAKES MY STOMACH SINK!

the WINGDINGS. AND SANS. AND ALPHYS. BEING HAPPY.

If this was any other fandom or story, id just be like “ye.” BUT I CARE ABOUT THESE CHARACTERS TOO MUCH TO JUST BLOW THIS OFF LIKE THAT

Just the pure JOY smile that Wingdings has as hes face palming, Alphys’ mannerisms…SANS. Its all just such a human moment with these characters, it feels so natual. ITS BEAUTIFUL. then Wingdings had to fuck it all up >:(

The expressions are so vivid I feel like I can tell what each character is thinking and feeling and it makes my heart break. Again, the PURE JOY SMILE. Wingdings giving genuine smiles like that makes me just

and Sans looking at him makes me think hes just so in the moment hes just so HAPPYYY. THEYRE SO HAPPY.

ONTO SOME SMALLER BUT JUST AS IMPORTANT RANTS:

The part in the song/animation where it goes “Running away is easy…..Running away is easy, its the living thats hard” work SOOO well together ITS LIKE A SYMPHONY OF ANGST

Running away is easy: Wingdings DOING THE RUNNING AWAY and turning into Gaster, (I JUST NOTICED SOMETHING IM FREAKING OUT GOD THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL i love how when Gasters face is revealed, the eyes are smaller like WINGDINGS’, before SPLITTING OPEN AAAAAAA)

Its the living thats hard: Papyrus LIVING WITH WINGDINGS’ MISTAKES!!!

Also not to mention in that part, Papyrus’ gloved hand coming over his ungloved one like Papyrus replacing Wingdings OOOOO????

And now, the last little part I wanna talk about is a bit of a sequel to the Science Gang being happy rant. This song… has so many raw lines- idk why but “loving you was easy”/any other similar sentiment makes me FEEL FEELINGS, they very much hurt. This was made to hurt me personally. This entire AU was made to hurt me personally.

I enjoy that scene radiating a feeling of- Sans was perfectly happy. He wouldnt have had it any other way- but it was torn away from him. NOW HES HAPPY AGAIN OFC!!! But yeah- Wingdings leaving did scar. AUGH I LOVE IT!!! IT HURTS SO MUCH!!! IM HAVING THE TIME OF MY LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!

in conclusion: ☹️

ok I also wanna include this- cause I think this clip perfectly exemplifies the feelings I get when the Forgettable AU updates and why I make so many deep dives as my decent into insanity is recorded through Tumblr blog posts

(Clip from Danny Gonzalez’ Youtube video: The Ratatouille Knockoff From Your Nightmares)

[halsaph]

alright whats this artdrone killbot thing

hi. You will regret asking this

The Murderbot Diaries is a series of books about a human-bot construct that was designed to essentially exist as an enslaved security guard / piece of sentient spyware. It's like if Alexa had half a human brain and a gun. We're introduced to Murderbot (the murder alexa) roughly 3 years after it's hacked the piece of hardware in it's brain that forces it to obey commands. In those 3 years it hasn't changed much about it's life except now while working as a subhuman slave it watches tv when no one is paying attention. As a series TMBD largely is about themes of personhood and discovering yourself when you have largely spent your life being denied the right to a sense of self. They also don't shy away from addressing the trauma that Murderbot has experienced from having it's autonomy stripped of it for most of it's life, with the second novella and most recent novel most heavily featuring that as an element. (Although that is a core aspect of Murderbot's character that informs its decisions throughout the entire series).

Murderbot as a character is bitingly sarcastic and witty, deeply paranoid and ultimately filled with the constant low level anxiety it doesn't know what it's doing (not necessarily moment by moment but overall, with it's freedom, with it's life). It's an excellent unreliable narrator because it only tells you exactly what it thinks is important in a scenario, relationships between other characters, physical features of itself and the people around it, it's own emotions and reactions often being completely brushed over with only occasional clues, and often outright misinterpreting people's actions, most often it's own. It has this ever present self loathing in the first several books where it constantly explains it's actions away in the least charitable interpretation possible even though we see time and time again that at it's core it deeply wants to help and protect the people around it. And we see over the course of the books as it starts learning how to make choices for itself and interacting with people who treat it with respect and develops a support system as it starts to move away from that mindset (with the exception of the most recent book but to be fair to MB System Collapse is about it being forced to confront it's PTSD and it's backsliding alot from recently being thrown back into a situation from its worst nightmares). I said before its a human-bot construct to explain that it isn't purely an inorganic being but Murderbot is a deeply inhuman character and openly has no desire to be human, and it's perspective as something that is made to be a security system and enmesh into both digital and hardwired surveillance is fascinating to read. As you know I deeply deeply love robots, they're my favorite kind of 'inhuman but still a Person' kind of character and Murderbot perfectly strikes the balance between a starkly in human way of thinking and deeply relatable emotions that draws me to robots as a whole, especially as an autistic person (and Murderbot was intentionally written with autistic traits but in a subversion of the typical ableist depiction of autistic robots so that EXTRA rings true lmao)

seeing as you mentioned it I will also explain ART as a character, ART is one of the reoccurring characters in the series (the first 3 novellas all have completely different casts outside of Murderbot itself as it hops from place to place trying to decide what it wants and who it is before in the fourth novella and beyond bringing back in previous characters and having them start to overlap throughout the rest of the series). It was introduced in the second book and is arguably the character that has the greatest impact on Murderbot as a person although I say arguably bc I would personally still say that's Mensah. Unarguably tho it is one of the most important people in Murderbot's life and has been described multiple times now by the author as the love of its life (although not necessarily in a romantic sense as Murderbot is both within text and confirmed via word of god acearo). ART (Asshole Research Transport) also known as the Perihelion (although not until the 5th book/first novel bc Murderbot doesn't bother to tell tell the readers its name until then, instead deciding its a dick so its gonna exclusively call it by an insult) is a spaceship's pilot AI, made to be sentient instead of the usual smart GPS as an experiment by the university is was made by. It was raised like a child by a pair of scientists who are now part of its crew (along with its sibling Iris) and now is a teaching vessel for students learning about deep space and also anticorporate espionage worker (don't worry about it). It's a giant pushy asshole unless you're a child (the only character we've ever seen it meet on screen it didn't in some way immediately threaten was a 16 yo). It can't watch tv without having to pause at the suspenseful bits to calm down. We're introduced to it by it threatening to melt Murderbot's mind and then pouting when it's scared shitless. It then a month later asks to do surgery on it. It fully intends to blow up a planet to get Murderbot back from a group of colonists that captured it until someone talks it out of it because that isn't effective hostage negotiation.

[var1an-onl1n3]

Another writing drabble because why not - this is as far as I've gotten into writing a small canon-continuation fic for teoe focused on Moles perspective, probably also needs a bit of proofreading but I feel like its better than the other thing I posted

(also for people who have already seen a bit of this drabble on the dc I have written more!!! Please read and review)

Moles legs hurt like hell.

Why couldn’t he have woken up on a running track or something? At least then he’d maybe be able to keep up with the others. I mean, come on. How was a man whose arms were made entirely of steel manage to be so much faster than him when he was probably twice his weight? This was completely unfair.

To be honest, the world hadn’t been very kind to him recently. Him being enslaved to some otherworldly moth-like being after forgetting all of his memories wasn’t exactly what he had hoped for going into the end of the world. And then just to rub it all in, he just had to wake up in a train station. Trains? Really? Why did that have to be his thing? It was a useless skill, other than when Acedia had tasked him with rewiring one for god knows what reason. He thinks its name was Acedia, though you don’t really pay attention to things like names when there’s a knife being held to your throat.

But he couldn’t focus on that now. He hung a left, tailing after the small green robot as it ran around a corner. They were still stuck in the subway, forced to navigate it’s maze-like structure. He wants to have a word with whoever created this building. Everything felt so horrifically similar. You could barely tell where you had been, because every hallway looked the same as the one you were in before. To add insult to injury, the few signs that had been placed around had either been spray painted over or scratched out entirely, rendering them useless. What a nightmare...

Somehow, however, the man in front seemed to know where they were heading. Blu was his name, or at least he hoped it was. Again, he wasn’t really paying attention. He had almost just crashed into his friend a few moments ago. He wrung his wrist as they ran. God, that man had had an iron grip on him. He wished he hadn’t been as harsh, but then again, fair enough. Mole spent a few seconds contemplating how the hydraulics in his arms worked when they suddenly came to a stop in front of him.

Blu groaned, staring up ahead of them. He had managed to find a way out, though it had been blocked entirely by those odd, ghostly creatures Mole had seen a few times. They creeped out from every nook and cranny, seemingly coming from nothing as they let out empty cries. Dread hit him like a brick, making him let out a shaky breath.

He watched the younger one raise her bat (Lucy, right?), taking a step forward. Blu put a hand in front of her, however, and she backed off.

“We’ll have to find a way around them. Facing them head on is just going to get us into even more trouble. See any alternatives?”

He looked at Lucy while asking this, save for the small second he took to glare at Mole. Again, fair enough, he had gotten them into this whole mess.

Lucy took a look around the musty subway they were stuck in before her face lit up as she pointed down the hallway on her right. Moles eyes followed where she was pointing, landing on a door that had been barricaded with wood. Hidden beneath those planks, however, Mole could just barely see ‘emergency exit’ stamped on in faded red.

“Maybe there’s a stairwell that can help us get out of here?” She replied, a twinge of insecurity stuck to her words.

Mole could tell Blu was smiling even with the mask on. “Atta, Lucy!” He said, following up with a firm pat on her back.  “Now, let’s get out of here.”

As those ghastly, white creatures creeped down the stairs, Blu ran over to the door. Letting his arms extend out (seriously, how was he doing that?), he gripped onto the planks. With a quick tug, they came flying off, nails and all. Mole took a moment to process what just happened, eyes blinking as he rubbed them. It was only when he felt a tug at his sleeve that he was brought back down to reality.

Lucy looked up at him like he was crazy. “Cmon, go?”

“Right- right, yep, going.”

And thats as far as Ive gotten, lmk if you guys think I should finish this and make it into some 10k-20k word fic (I could do it if I really tried but its going to take a bit of work to do)

[gilly-moon]

"Telling them about their kinks" blackice prompt please?

I think nice lingerie or a collar would fit Jack (for some people being collared can actually bring comfort and it's not sexual). Also, being blindfolded with your partner show so much vulnerability and trust it makes my heart weak 🥺

I missed writing from Pitch's perspective, but I loved the idea of Jack being blindfolded ♡ (also collar & lingerie is *chef kiss* I'm holding onto those ideas for future use lol)

⟡ ⟡ ⟡

When Jack came to him breathless and shaking, the last place Pitch expected for them to end up was in his bed.

The frost spirit had nearly crashed into him, staff clattering to the stone floor of the cavern as Pitch readjusted his stance to keep from falling over. Arms winding around that slight, freezing body, Pitch held the boy aloft and stroked soothing fingers into his hair. From the way he was trembling, Pitch half expected to feel tears against his neck where Jack had buried his face, but there was only a shaky stream of breaths cooling his skin.

“What’s happened?” he asked in a soft tone, already planning out a nightmare for whoever had left Jack in such a state.

“It’s nothing,” Jack replied - a lie so entirely unconvincing that it wasn’t worth either of their time to point it out. Fingers curling into the fabric of Pitch’s robe, his voice cracked slightly as he spoke. “Remember that thing we talked about last time?”

Hand pausing where it had been stroking down Jack’s spine, Pitch stared blankly at the frost-tinged staff where it lay a few feet away. They’d met a week ago, and the youngest Guardian had seemed tense then, too. He hadn’t said why, only asked to be at Pitch’s side for a few hours. It was a typical request of him, each of them drawn to the other by their shared loneliness and a need to be seen, but the unusual mood he was in led their conversation to more intimate topics. Only after a significant amount of reassurances had Jack eventually opened up about his desires, but he’d vanished back to the skies before things had the chance to progress. Pitch had spent the last week trying to control his disappointment, but he was wary of the opportunity hinted at in Jack’s words when he seemed so unsettled.

“Is that really what you need right now?”

“Yes,” Jack hissed into his shoulder.

And if Pitch were a better man, he might step back and give in to his own hesitation. He’d do things the right way, rather than indulging an impulsive need from a clearly emotionally compromised frost spirit. But who was he to deny Jack when he clung to him so desperately?

So Pitch found himself stepping into a shadow, bypassing the long walk to his bedroom. Prying the arms from around his neck, he dropped the boy onto black silk sheets and wasted no time in flipping him onto his front, ignoring the soft grunt as a hand pressed between his shoulderblades to keep him in place.

“You phrased it so sweetly last time we spoke,” Pitch murmured, admiring the sight of tousled white hair and pale, clutching hands against the utter darkness of his bed. The delicious fear of wanting was practically radiating off that slight figure. “Will you say it again for me, Jack?”

Turning his head aside to gasp in a breath, Jack gripped the silky fabric below him in two tight fists. His eyes were squeezed shut, tongue darting over pink lips. He seemed to struggle with the words, until Pitch was lowering himself down, using the weight of his own body to pin Jack down. The answer was exhaled on a breath that didn’t shake at all.

“Control me,” Jack whispered. “Take…all of my senses. I want them to be yours.”

A note of pure pleasure rumbled through Pitch’s chest and along Jack’s spine. Frost appeared in curls and spirals between Jack’s fingers, crackling over the sheets.

“Very good, Jack,” Pitch purred, placing a kiss among soft spikes of hair before lifting himself up.

His hands worked in smooth motions, reaching for Jack’s fingers to loosen their grip. Wrists thin enough for him to snap were gathered up at the dip in the smaller spirit’s back, bonds of shadow coiling around them and along his forearms. Pitch rolled him over carefully, letting a hand linger on a thigh while the other slipped beneath the hoodie, dragging up Jack’s shuddering torso until it rested over his heart. Bracing a knee at the edge of the bed, Pitch leaned up so they were face to face.

Eyes still held determinedly shut, Jack was still panting unevenly, but for an entirely different reason now. As Pitch brushed his lips over that sharp jawline, he could taste snow and evergreens and fear. Placing kisses up Jack’s flushed cheek and against dark eyelashes, Pitch basked in how eagerly the body beneath him surrendered to his touch.

“Look at me.”

Jack tensed from the order, eyes shifting in agitation beneath his eyelids. When Pitch’s nails dug dangerously into his chest, he sucked in a sharp breath and slowly, slowly revealed those stunning, glacial blue irises. They were watery with unshed tears, and Pitch found himself thinking how beautiful they looked like this, right on the cusp of overflowing with emotion.

“So perfect for me,” he murmured, cupping a hand against Jack’s cheek. A single tear escaped from those pools of sapphire, and his thumb swiped out to catch it.

Removing the hand from Jack’s chest, Pitch drew forth a strip of shadow and slipped it over those eyes that had been offered to him, hiding them away from the world. Like this, Jack could hardly move, couldn’t see, even if he wanted to. When Pitch’s thumb dropped to stroke his lips, they parted obediently.

The less control Jack was allowed, the more he unraveled beneath Pitch’s hands. He had left himself so vulnerable like this, had placed an inordinate amount of trust into the hands of a man who had been his enemy once. It woke something dark and hungry in the ancient spirit’s gut, accompanied by a painful warmth blooming in his chest.

“Give me everything,” he whispered, blanketing himself over the frost spirit until they disappeared together into the darkness.

[brightblurr]

Why do you like Rau Le Creuset?

There are so many reasons beyond just weird fangirling lol.

But it is largely because his character was written that good, both of the original voice actors (Toshihiko Seki and especially Mark Oliver) brought the character to life. You can feel everything he says, you can feel the emotion behind it or the lack of. You can tell he his deceitful but he comes off charming anyway. His character is handsome, young, agile and he can seem like a mentor who is there for you. I love the complexity behind his character, and how we see so many faces of his. We never suspect that he's behind the actual war, we never really know just how convoluted he is until Mendel.

I love that he influences everything, even Destiny. His hand is a huge factor in the Destiny Plan, which would see to it that people stop suffering as they did in his nihilistic perspective. He influenced Durandal, Rey, and honestly basically Aura Maha Khyber and Orphee Lam Tao too. He was the driving force behind Kira's worst nightmares - that he can't stop war. His philosophy wasn't wrong, and it applies to real life. War is never ending, humans are selfish and desire things. Everything is difficult. Even though I don't entirely agree with his negative perspectives, I can still admire that they got this character right.

He isn't an old man, he isn't totally unattentive. And he's easy on the eyes. Like seriously. Forget Athrun, Kira and Mu. RAU WAS HOTTER.

His character was charming. He was literally, if they went, let's take Lacus, flip her gender, and give her a reason for NOT wanting to help everyone. He was talented, manipulative, charming, knowledgeable and overall capable. He could come off as a kind mentor and actually just be doing everything to ruin your life. I love it. Amazing character, amazing role, amazing voice actors, amazing design. I wish he'd continued to make appearances, especially in Kira's head, because he drove Kira's whole character way more than Durandal. He was right about Kira, about the world, about everything.

Basically, I just love the character. if he were a real man, I'd probably jump him.

[whosthere54]

Prison duo playlist analysis day 7 - Brutus by The Buttress

YES I FINALLY GET TO YELL ABOUT THIS SONG! ME WHEN!

This is mostly gonna be me yelling about the season two prison arc and also probably corruption because wow I’m so normal about that specifically. From Icarus’s perspective mostly is what I’ve thought this through same as most things- though it could be corruption arc Centross too.

Starting off strong with

“I’ve been watching him for my entire life. I hate the air he breathes, his foolish decrees his words so contrived.”

They have known him throughout the first reset that they remember at that point- that being the only thing they remember from their life. They hate him- especially after they remember. They were fine around him before but when they remember their put straight back into the mindset the held during corruption and they hold so so much anger and resentment towards him. They don’t believe a word he says, he broke their trust no matter how little of it was real in the fist place. Why would he tell the truth now? They don’t believe him when he try’s to tell them Rae is sick- because their so sure that Rae would tell them even when they hadn’t fully earned that trust back yet because why would he tell the person who tried to kill everybody here over them?

“And I hate the way the townspeople gather outside. They cling on to every breath, cling to his chest. Home to his heart full of pride.”

Most people of not everyone have met Centross at this point- and most like him. Find him easy to hang out with or are just indifferent to him being there. Rae trusts him more than others, and if Centross said something most would probably believe him especially Rae at this point. Would people believe Icarus? Who’s to say- especially if Jamie and Athena remember. Athena I think trusts Centross more than Icarus with that memory. Easton I don’t know about- I think he would be able to tell if they were lying- but I don’t think he’d trust them so easily.

“The Oracle told him beware the Ides. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t wishing for untimely death or demise”

Mmmm. See if this was s3 “The Oracle told him beware the Ides” would be a great line.

I don’t remember off the top of my head if anyone except Centross himself was worried about visiting Icarus- so I can’t make the best connection here.

They would be wishing for his death- not exactly knowingly but they don’t want his here. They don’t want him to be around to hurt anyone anymore and the easiest way to do that would be for him to die. They don’t immediately want to do it themself- but they would be lying if they didn’t wish something would happen to him for what he’d done to the people they cared about- as well as what he’d done to them as much as they try to make it about everyone else.

“Or am I just wishing I could be like you? That the people would see me too as a poet, and not just the muse.”

THIS ONE. THIS IS WHY I SAY SEASON 2.

They wished they were like him in many ways in season one- he was Enderian’s favorite. Her speaker, her first choice. She talked to him the most. They wish NIW that they got the same level of trust and support from others he is getting, wishing they could walk around and not have to pretend they don’t notice the shifting feet and fearful glances when they talk to someone, pretend they don’t notice when Rae talks to them different after maybe a nightmare or something else that reminded him of them then. They wish it was like Centross- where he walks around freely and can gain the trust back of the other people on the server. What they don’t know is how he worked for it- he built that trust back and they haven’t taken the steps to do that yet.

“Oh it’s not true, I don’t wish harm upon you. From birth we’ve been like brothers of different mothers. Within the spirit of the same womb”

Even if they hate each other- they probably understand each other the most out of many of the characters on Fable. They’ve had experiences together through corruption and then have probably seen each other at their most vulnerable in both prison arcs- stretching into season 3 where there’s more trust and vulnerability for it to actually be a healthy exchange.

“May the gods strike me down if I forsake you. Frater meus, you’re beautifully made. And to you I’m forever grateful.”

Mmm. Me when. They didn’t want to hurt him at first- they just wanted to make sure he wouldn’t hurt anyone else.

He taught them a lot though season 1- I think. Just in their mental state really- even if it wasn’t a healthy environment they learned a lot about themself and what they were capable of specifically due to his help. He was part of the people who enabled them to do what they did- even if it was a bad thing. That turns into him enabling and helping them heal and do good later in season 2 and in season 3.

“You’re beautifully made” is a line for sure. Mhm.

“I’ll never forget that you showed me to make art. And I know the love you showered me came from a pure and noble heart. I love you, and if you want I’ll call you king. But why do I lay awake at night thinking instead of you it should be me?”

I don’t want to repeat myself- but same things as I said above he taught them a lot, as well as their respect for him vs their returned lingering hatred and resentment toward him wanting to be in the place he had been from season 1.

“something wicked this way comes. And as I’m set to face it, I’m unsure, should I embrace it? Should I run? What motivates me? Hatred? Is it love? What’s more wrong; that I too wish to be great, or my mother wished she’d had a son?”

Agh- me when. What’s more wrong; that I too wish to be great, or my mother wished she’d had a son?

Tell me that’s not so Icarus coded. Or my mother wished she’d had a son- because- was Icarus ever rally her son? She was their mother, yes, but Icarus was always Creations child. Always in fables shadow, his mini me, his perfect golden child that would do whatever he say. They looked like him too- the spitting image of their father taking on his temperament too.

Skipping a bit because- I’m so normal about this part-

“My name is Brutus and my name means heavy. So with a heavy heart, I’ll guide this dagger into the heart of my enemy. My whole life you were a teacher and friend to me. Please know that my actions are not motivated only by envy. I, too, have a destiny. This death will be art. The people will speak of this from near and afar. This event will be history, and I’ll be great too. I don’t want what you have- I want to be you!”

Oh me when they nearly kill Centross. I’m so incredibly normal. About that in particular.

“Please know that my actions are not motivated only by envy”

They didn’t just do this for what he’d done to them- at-least that’s what they tell themself- they do it to protect their family. The only people they care about that he hurt. Their actions are not only motivated by their care for what happened to them, but for what happened to the grove.

“I don’t want what you have- I want to be you!”

Now- contradictory to my last statement- this is about them. About the lingering mindset of corruption that has them in the same place of envy and anger and want that they were stuck in before. They want to be him now- wanting the respect of others like he had, wanting people to care about them in the same way- trust them and believe them the same way they do him. They want it to be easy- to not have to be looked at like they’re crazy or with pitiful gazes lines with fear and panic when the people they love look at them like they’re a monster.

“I always knew I could be the one. Though I feel the endless pain of being, and I am scorched by the sun. Of humble origins and born of the cursed sex. My name is Brutus but the people will call me Rex”

NOW THIS IS THE LINE IF BEEN THINKING ABOUT ALL DAY-

“My name is Brutus but the people will call me Rex”

They don’t know their name at this point so I am not going to say it here- but- “My name is Sherbert but the people will call me Creation(Creation’s child)” BECAUSE HEAR ME OUT- Fable was a military guy, he probably taught them a lot about war strategy as a child of them sitting in the war room as a little kid is anything to go by- and he’s a killer though they don’t know that yet. Following in their fathers footsteps, they’ll hurt the people they care about the most when trying to do something they deem as good for the people. Good for a kingdom, or good for the grove. And then end up with angry looks and sharp words that they didn’t want- that they did this to try and *avoid*

Just- me when they’re called Creation’s child and they follow so closely in his footsteps that sometimes it almost makes the lines blur between the two- even just in their tone of speech. Their tone of speech during the S2 arc and also the corruption arc nearly recreated Fables sharp and angry tones he speaks in and I just. Mm. This is all I’ve been thinking about right now.

That’s all I’ll say- I’ll cut myself off here but I have so many thoughts about this and the season 2 prison arc specifically- hence my whole playlist… it’s fine- I’m normal guys totally.

Anyways!

The image chosen from my prison duo Pinterest board today is-

I’ll leave it at that.

You are loved! Go take any meds if you need to and Go eat and drink water if you haven’t already today <3

Have a good rest of your day/night :]

[pfffsfic]

Post-Fall Falls False Starts- Chapter 7: The Encounter

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Sarah's story had included- among many, many other things- a detailed physical description of the demon in question. Rob hadn't exactly been lucid for that, and he certainly wasn't entirely lucid now, so the information was locked behind two invisible mental walls that he wouldn't have been able to break even if he had known the information he needed was beyond them.

"I'm Rob," he said with trepidation.

"Rob, huh?" said the triangle. "I'm Bill."

"Bill?"

Rob's eye didn't meet Bill's directly, instead gazing absently at the demon's bow tie, then his hat… and then the mental walls crumbled in turn, first with a faint memory of the outfit Sarah had been wearing earlier and second with a surprisingly robust memory of a previously-forgotten section of the monologue for which he had zoned out. His retreat into memory was abruptly broken up by Bill snapping loudly in his face a few times.

"Sheesh! It takes a special kind of foggy head to zone out in the dreamscape, and I don't mean that as a compliment!"

"Bill Cipher?" Rob asked.

The demon's 'face' contorted for just a second into a red one of seething rage and confusion that faded just as quickly as it had arrived.

"So you know the name. I'm honored, really." He didn't sound honored. "How much else do you know, kid?"

"I know you're a demon."

"By some definitions! And?"

"And…"

The aid his newfound memory granted him quickly reached the end of its usefulness. Either Sarah hadn't brought up anything about Bill's personality or Rob had been so lost for that portion of it that he couldn't salvage the information.

"You're a demon, you show up in dreams, and you can be summoned. …That's it."

"Excellent!" For the first time in the conversation, Bill sounded like he meant it. "Tell me, do you do a lot of traveling?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I haven't left my dimension in ages. Work-related concerns, and all that. I'm trying to live vicariously through you- is that so wrong?"

"Uh…"

"Let me tell you, the Nightmare Realm may be a nice place to visit, but you wouldn't want to live there!"

"The Nightmare Realm?"

"Either you're stupid or you're playing stupid," Bill sighed, "One's hilarious, the other not so much. C'mon, make me laugh, would you?"

They shared a tense gaze, and then Bill let out the world's least sincere laugh, giving Rob's the world's least sincere friendly shoulder pat by stretching out his arm.

"Lighten up, kid! I'm messing with you! You know, you're kind of a wet blanket. Squishy, full of water, and unresponsive when it comes to banter." As if to prove his point, Bill poked Rob in the cheek and discovered with a shiver that it was not, in fact, squishy. "Well, at least those last two."

"Oh, excuse me if I'm not suddenly chummy with you, okay? We just met for the first time one minute ago!"

"On the contrary!"

Bill's arm snapped back to its usual length and his body glowed with a series of rapid-fire images that Rob recognized from his dreams over the past week- the flashing colors of his hallucinatory episode after eating that mushroom, the nondescript classroom from his test nightmare, a few other half-remembered bursts of fantasy. Then, for a few seconds, before shifting back into its original yellow hue, it displayed the current scene in real-time from Bill's perspective, almost like looking into a mirror.

"I've been trying to get to you, kid! But every time I have an opening, you either stop dreaming or you wake up! If I didn't know any better-" his eye narrowed- "I'd think you were doing it on purpose."

"I wasn't doing it on purpose, man."

"Say what you want. Look, I'll drop the pretense. I'm gonna get into your mind one way or another, and then it won't matter if you play stupid, because I'll be able to see everything you aren't telling me."

"Aren't we in my mind right now?"

"Ha! We're in your dreams right now. The meat of your mind is elsewhere, both literally and metaphorically! This is basic stuff. Humans, am I right? Uh, 'scuse me, force of habit. Whatever-it-is-that-you are's, am I right?"

"Cyclopes."

"Cyclopes aren't made of untextured polygons and TV static, and they definitely don't dream. Those guys are dumber than a bag of teeth. Having one eye doesn't make you a cyclops, otherwise me, you, and the eye bats would all be on the same level!"

"Eye bats?"

"Point is, we're not on the same level, and you aren't a cyclops."

"I think I would know what I am."

"Trust me, I thought so, too. You're a real edge case."

"If you're so good with this stuff, what would you say I am if not a cyclops?"

"Hmmm."

Bill floated around him in a lazy circle, bringing to mind a pack of hungry wolves.

"Welp," said Bill, "I guess I'll find out when you're at your lowest! If you think I can't see through your game, it's gonna be all that much funnier when I get the upper hand!"

"My game? What on Earth are you talking about?"

"I'll be watching," snapped Bill, vanishing on a bitter note and taking the environment along with him.

"At least Sarah will be happy about this," Rob thought before his lucidity gave way to unconsciousness.

-

"WHAT?"

Sarah grabbed his shoulders and shook. Hard. When Rob had cheerfully broken the news to a drowsy Sarah, he had anticipated many possible reactions, this not among them.

"He visited YOU before ME? That's so not fair!"

She let go of him and flopped down onto an invisible fainting couch with a dramatic flourish and an even more dramatic sigh. Her eyes glimmered with an insincere sort of wetness, akin to the tears of a fairy tale princess upset about being simply too pretty and rich to relate to the common folk. Maybe she was happy in her own special way- she just didn't want Rob to know it.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm over it," she said without even a hint of the earlier negativity. "What did he say to you?"

"Just a bunch of cryptic stuff I couldn't make heads or tails of. I think he thought I was trying to manipulate him."

"And were you?"

"No!"

"It would have been really cool if you were."

"He caught me off-guard, alright?"

"Too late now. Okay, okay, so! Could you tell me everything you remember about what he said? We're gonna get to the bottom of this."

"I remember the first words out of his mouth- or, uh, his eye, I guess- were, 'who the heck are you'?"

"Interesting. Did it seem like a genuine who-are-you or an I-know-who-you-are who-are-you?"

"Genuine, I think."

"Interesting. Very interesting. He doesn't know who you are? That has some iiiinteresting implications."

"I told him my name- was I not supposed to do that?"

"First name or full name?"

"First name only."

Rob had gotten a surname for himself- Wrecker- a while back during a period of time he disliked thinking about. It was the only legal surname he'd ever had as far as he could remember (with the exception of the fake identity he'd invented to run for the school board), but it felt like a pseudonym even so. Perhaps, he thought, that was because his arch-nemesis had come up with it. If he had to pick his own evil moniker, what would it be? Would the word 'evil' with a few tweaks to the pronunciation really still cut it? Sure, he might stoop that low for someone else's name, but his own?

"I don't think he gets power over you if he has your name. That's fairies. But hey! There's a lot I don't know about him."

"I'm surprised there's anything you don't know about him."

"Well, two seasons can only tell you so much. That's why I'm here- to pick his mind and get some answers!"

"I don't think he seems like the sort of person who would be an open book about that kind of thing, but I guess you know him better than me."

"Oh, trust me, I have my ways of getting through to him. I'm like a therapist- I can get people to freak out and unintentionally say things that reveal their deepest, darkest secrets!"

"I don't think that's what therapists do."

"Well, it's what I do. Call it serapy."

"Like Sarah plus therapy?"

"Like stalking- I mean, supervision- plus therapy! Secrets beget more secrets. If they can't hide from you, they won't want to try and hide from you, and they'll tell you anything to get you to keep quiet! But Sarah plus therapy is good too."

"Sounds like blackmail."

"By some definitions."

"By all definitions!"

"Maybe so, maybe so. But blackmail makes it sound so serious!"

"Like how 'stalking' sounds so serious?"

"Don't tell me you've never done that to your nemeses."

"I spy on my nemeses. It's a villain thing- it's different. And less creepy."

"What's the difference?"

"The- the- the principle of the thing! The motivation! Hate is different from love. Have you ever hated anybody? Like really hated them?"

"I-"

"No, you haven't. I can tell from the innocence in your eyes."

"Innocence? Oh, trust me, there's no innocence here."

She leaned in with one eye to his and grinned like a serial killer in a horror movie, letting out her best creepy giggle- a laugh that sent chills down Rob's spine against his will.

"Point made. But-! it's still a different thing. You wouldn't understand."

"Whatever you say, Rich."

She patted him on the head. He didn't comment on that last thing- he was over that- he would not let it get to him- he knew better-

"It's Rob," he muttered.

"I know," she replied.

-

Against Rob's wishes, Sarah had gone and fetched more of the white mushrooms to roast them over the fire for breakfast. It took a few hours of Sarah swearing up and down that she wasn't hallucinating even a little bit before Rob finally decided eating one was worth the risk, and even then, he took small bites at twenty-minute intervals just in case. Their interactions were short, sweet, and heavy on the back-and-forth, and when one ended there would be a long period of peaceful silence before the next one started up. By the end of the day he had recounted his entire meeting with Bill to an inquisitive Sarah. Much to his appreciation (and annoyance), she was a much better listener than he was.

Rob's meeting with Bill had been heavily recontextualized by the information he learned. For one thing, Bill was a villain ('What?' he had asked. 'Why do you care? You're a villain too, aren't you?' she had replied), he lived in a decaying world called the Nightmare Realm that, much like the dimension Rob himself had once been trapped in, acted as a depository for forgotten things, he was a conman who made what Sarah called 'typical demony deals', he knew a lot of things (but not who Rob was, a fact that Sarah suspected bothered him), and he had a big and enthusiastic fanbase. That last one was less so useful info about Bill and moreso useful info about Sarah. It had also come up that eye bats were essentially eyeballs with wings (Sarah described them as 'the sort of demon that would appear on William's hypothetical shoulder if he needed to make a tough moral decision) and that Bill could see through images of his likeness and also trees- definitely birch trees, but, since there were no birch trees in the clearing, Sarah mentioned that she hoped his powers extended to other sorts of trees with holes as well. Rob plugged every tree hole in the clearing with dirt just in case. Sarah let him, but carved a little eye of providence into the bark of a nearby evergreen, apparently rendering his work irrelevant.

They discussed how one sasquatch could feed them for days, and then how to kill a sasquatch, and then how one giant ice cream cone could also feed them for days, and then the conversation topic shifted to if Rob was edible or not. He insisted he was no longer organic. She insisted they would have to try, to know for sure. Rob threatened her with the crowbar and said, 'You'll scream before I scream'. She laughed- hopefully at the quip and not because his failure to intimidate was funny.

Their final topic of the night was how that human had reacted to seeing Rob.

"It could just have been a weird little gag," said Sarah. "Somehow I doubt everybody you meet is gonna react the same way. That'd be boring, you know? But if you want to test it out I have an idea."

"An idea?"

"Yeah! I want you to go into town and try to steal a TV and a generator!"

"What, you wanna watch TV here?" Rob sat up, wide-eyed. He had been thinking about doing the exact same thing! He had wanted to determine if his own universe existed as fiction within this one. Could Sarah really have come to that same conclusion? "Why?"

"I have a DVD on me that could help us survive here."

"Like a wilderness survival show, or something?"

"Not exactly. I was honestly gonna keep it a secret, but now you know everything else and we're kind of living together like an old married couple, by which I mean we sort of hate each other but there's also love there-"

"No there's not."

"Friendship, then."

Rob sighed. Maybe there was friendship there. How long had it been since he had a friend? Was this really friendship if it was born of necessity? Did they need each other? He had survived fine the first week on his own, save for that time with the mushrooms.

"I'll go into town tomorrow. We'll see if I can steal one for you."

"You are the best. Thanks so much."

"Don't thank me! I have secret ulterior motives."

"Oooh, tell me about them."

"They're a secret," he said, and then he closed his eye and pretended to be asleep.