#well they all are really but this one was more heavily referenced
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POPTART REDESIGN!!!!!!!
More blabbering about paleontology stuffs below cut!!
A lot of you may be asking why I have chosen to redesign him, and the answer is actually quite simple. I had been reading up on more paleontology news, and I wanted Poptart to reflect what I have learned this past year!
Here are some of my design notes :3
• His arms may be tiny, but I can assure you they are not just evolution leftovers!!! Many papers have argued that they are well muscled and may have played a role in hunting. I like to think they acted as a grapple to anchor themselves while they bite at a prey item.
• I have already addressed this before, but I would like to touch on it again. I had to shave him bald because it may have been more likely they lost their feathers with age ( very sad, i know). Although, if it is any consolation, many smaller Tyrannosaurids have feathers! Like Naanuqsaurus and Yutyrannus!
• I chose to change his coloring to reflect coloration most prevalent in modern reptiles (specifically archosaurs and monitor lizards), mainly because the original ones were kinda bland and really only made him look like a giant chicken. Not very "Tyrant Lizard King" if I'm going to be honest. (Quick side note: Yes, their most closely related, extant relatives are chickens, but they have wildly differing lifestyles lol)
• A lot of popular depictions of T-Rex wrongfully skin-wrap them, but they were actually extremely bulky. Poptart is no exception! (Mainly because callie feeds him way too much.)
• Alsoo a quick little PSA!!
T-REX HAD EXCELLENT VISION!!!! DO NOT BELIEVE WHAT THEY TELL YOU ON JURASSIC PARK. They had an incredible depth perception and fully binocular vision. YOU AINT GETTING AWAY BY RUNNING. TRUST.
That is all! Hope I didn't bore you all teehee
I got most of my information from this YouTube video! It summarized research done by the EOfauna team, as well as going way more in depth than I ever could, lol. I highly recommend you watch it if you're also big on paleo news in such.
I also heavily referenced the Chicago field museum's "Sue," as she is one of the most complete specimens ever recovered.
#paleontology#tyrannosaurus rex#t rex#poptart#splatoon#splatoon 3#callie cuttlefish#callie splatoon#squid sisters#dedf1sh#acht splatoon#before anyone asks if hes still achts no.1 op#he is#he still hates them lmao#dinosaurs
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variations on dust
trying to get back into drawing after artfight, so have some random doodles in the meantime
#liem art#my art#dusttale#dust sans#random doodles#bottom right is usually how i draw him#bottom left is from a few refs mashed into one#well they all are really but this one was more heavily referenced#i kinda have a weird relationship with his eye color#like cyan is canon and looks better but patience just doesnt fit the version of him i have in my head#blue is like... i think dust thinks he has integrity but really its complicated#depends on how i feel about him that day#purple (aka perseverance) is i think the one trait he has for sure#but it looks like shit next to red :(#gonna have to make a choice sooner or later but rn im not doing that#also in my head he absolutely is wearing paps' scarf all the time but for some reason i always forget other people draw him without it#its like everytime i look for references i go “but where's his scarf :(” like a dumbass#but i still think he would never take it off ever unless he absolutely has to
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idk if this is gonna make sense but do yk the game twister? like with the colourful mat and you always end up tangled with each other?
so hear me out- you and art are playing together with patrick being the person that spins and tells you guys where to move.. but instead hes just trying to put you guys into sexual positions since he knows art has a fat crush on you😵💫
just ends in either you teasing art while playing or patrick getting you guys to fuck eventually (like making up his own rules - if you fall you take off a piece of clothing - etc.)
I RLLY HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE IM SORRY ITS KINDA LONG
FUUUUCK USER YOU'RE A GENIUS.
You're genuinely so into the game, and end up squatting with your arms crossed in front of you, while Art's face is like directly behind your ass. He can see the lace of your panties where your shirt rode up with the stretch of your back and he has to physically resist the urge to kiss the soft skin there.
Patrick, seeing it all, smirks and spins the wheel, but completely ignores whatever it lands on. "Right hand on green, Art."
"Oh, okay," Art gasps with almost child like innocence, searching for the right spot. And the only suitable one seems to be on the front of your own hand.
So he does the only possible thing, extending his right arm to place his palm on the green circle, completely enveloping you from the top. His chest presses into your back and you catch the tiniest hint of his boner pressing into your ass.
"Left foot on yellow, Y/N," Patrick commands, not even bothering to spin the wheel.
You try to do so, the top of your head bumping into Art's chin, and your back practically molds against his chest as you extend your left leg behind yourself. "Fuck, I'm gonna fall."
"Just hold it, Y/N, don't be a pussy," Patrick mutters with a roll of his eyes, loving the way you two are pressed together. "Ready for another round, Art?"
Eventually, the two of you end up tangled in a mess, limbs intertwined. At one point, your crotches rub together, like really really hard and Art thinks he might cum right there. Luckily for him, your legs give up under you and you fall straight on your bum, complaining about a lost game.
The boys know how much of a competitive girl you are, and evening something as simple as twisted is able to ignite the fire that burns on your heart. And the good friend Patrick is, he decides to give you another chance to prove yourself.
"How about a new rule, hm? If you fall, take something off," he offers, crossing one leg over the other were he's sitting. "We can continue until you're both naked."
He's an asshole, a proper fucking asshole. But Art makes sure to get on his knees and thank him next time when they're alone, because - fuck - the moment your bare boobs bounce in front of his face is like seeing a real angel descend from the sky. He's almost naked as well, just in his boxers now, his boner very much waving hello at you.
The positions you end in are even more awkward. At one point, Art end up on all fours, but in the other way, so his bum is just barely lifted off of the ground, with you hovering above him, legs spread on either side of his head. His cock is throbbing in his pants and his eyes are so wide at the sight of a wet pool of arousal soaking through the pink cotton of your panties.
"Art," Patrick hums, an amused expression on his face as he keeps studying the scene in front of him. "Mouth on pink."
Art's eyes snap towards his friend. "What?"
It's obvious what Patrick is referencing. And he's so fucking proud of himself for it. "You heard me, man."
"C'mon, Art," you almost whine impatiently, wiggling above him. Your full thighs jiggle and Art has a back time holding back a moan.
"Oh- okay," he swallows heavily, with a hesitant nod pressing his lips to the pink cotton of your panties. A breathy moan is heard above him, such a calm sound.
Art really can't help himself. He can't wait for any other instruction from his friend, he can't even hold himself back now that his face is smushed against your arousal. He licks a thick stripe and sucks in the sticky wetness that has soaked through the fabric, slowly losing himself in the sweet taste. Patrick chuckles at the eagerness and you do too, but with much less harshness. The sound is almost sweet, caressing Art's fluffy, fuzzy brain and encouraging him to keep going.
"Left foot on green."
Patrick announces and Art feels your thighs squeeze tighter around his head as you reposition yourself. His whole head is buried in your lap, the tip of his nose rubbing little circles over your clit as he breathes in the moisture. Little beads of sweat glisten on his pink cheeks, the feel of your plush skin against his ears making him feel like he's drowning. Like he can't breathe.
"Mhm, Art," you moan above him, grinding your pelvis down to meet him halfway. By now, his lips are fully latched onto your cunt, suctioning it into his mouth and sucking and sucking and sucking.
Locked in the awkward position, his hands and feet somehow remain within the colourful circles, and so do yours. It's almost admirable how you manage to stay unmoving, only the subtle grind of your hips and nodding friction of Art's head happening.
The smug bastard Patrick is, he's enjoying the whole thing, the sight something so beautiful and downright pornographic. He's almost tempted to whip out his phone and record the two of you, because he's sure there's not a single video like this on the hub. That could be a hit!
But he's not that much of a bitch. So all he does it palm his dick and dost it through his pants, the sight of his best friend's angel curls drowning between your plush thighs being just enough to get him hard.
#challengers#art donaldson#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson smut#art donaldson blurb#patrick zweig#ask
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6B4T
Lately there has been talk about 4B and so I wanted to bring up 6B4T which grew from the South Korean 4B movement, and specially the 6B4T movement as it is practiced by our Chinese sisters. Before that however differences between the both are as followed:
4B
No sex with men
No giving birth
No dating men
No marriage with men
6B4T
Includes the original commandments of 4B and adds the following:
Don’t buy products from misogynistic brands
Support single women/women that have chosen to be celibate
Reject the corset (rejecting toxic beauty standards)
Reject idol culture (as in male-worship and idolization of entertainment figures this ALSO includes rejecting idol culture for female kpop idols/entertainers)
Reject otaku culture (rejecting misogynistic anime culture)
Reject religion
(**You may see 6B4T referred to as 10bt to avoid censorship as CN social media sites are heavily monitored by government censors, even outside of CN social media CN sisters will still refer to it as 10bt because 6b + 4t = 10bt)
Now that there's a basic understanding... I wanted to talk about some of the differences that the CN 6B4T movement has compared to what I usually encounter in English speaking radfem circles. Please note that this is my own experience and as with any political movement there can a myriad of women that agree and disagree (except on the 6B4T principles as a whole, those are rock solid for them haha.)
I was first aware of this movement around 2020 and have been following women on twitter/x since then that follow these beliefs. All of this has been gathered from tweets by 6B4T users on twitter/x + interactions with them. I am not a CN speaker and have used translation apps to piece together details on the 6B4T movement and have cross referenced this with some of the writings I can find in English about this and the conversations that I have had with some of the 10bt sisters that were willing to interact with me.
I do not feel comfortable just singling out specific accounts for people to look up on twitter but anyone that wants to do their own research can search the keywords on twitter 6B4T or 10bt and go under the "People" filter to populate accounts of CN women that have 6B4T and/or 10bt in their bio.
One thing that I want to talk about right away - the term donkey. It will come up quite often when you search 10bt accounts and is used to describe women that are perpetuating patriarchy because they "carry the patriarchy without protest and allow themselves to be exploited." (This includes married women.) 10bt sisters DO NOT have an emphasis on educating women that perpetuate patriarchy. You can find sayings such as:
"Feminism is like being given a weapon to support yourself with, do not use it to commit suicide by having a complex of saving donkeys"
“Don't do donkey work for donkeys".
“Don’t get derailed by women support women, leave the donkeys alone.”
Which leads me to the next point - 10bt sisters are for empowering women independently. There is obvious acknowledgement of bonds and relationships between women but the general feeling is more to focus on the individual self, connections are based solely on shared interests and can be let go of as needed. (I have also seen discussions of letting go of romantic ties not just for straight sisters but for lesbian sisters as well.) Sentiments such as "focusing on oneself is a foundation for a happy life" "All thoughts and ideologies cannot be separated from down to earth efforts and dedication" are plenty. Really a focus away from "altruistic" causes so to speak
And on that note: anti veganism. 10bt sisters in general are adamant that 6B4T principles should only include tackling patriarchy and not have other causes added to it. Anti veganism sentiment also seems to stem from certain aspects in CN culture of serving smaller portions to young girls and discouraging them to eat meat as opposed to men. The focus on improving one's self from before also shows up here: "Women need strength to overthrow patriarchy, only then should we focus on improving the lives of animals."
Some 10bt sisters are also very open about criticism and believe women that openly identify with the 10bt movement should be prepared to have their posts critiqued, and while some will debate this... one of the things that is absolutely non negotiable is that actions MUST back up words. There’s lots of debates that go on in the 10bt movement but the bare minimum is that if you follow 6B4T then you must follow its core beliefs otherwise what are you here for? There is a huge disdain for those that say they belong to this movement but don’t follow its beliefs.
With that being said, how do the 10bt sisters feel about 4B taking off in the states? Well…
“4B grew into 6B4T and they only dared to do half of the movement? It’s disappointing.”
“At this point in time, it is crazy to deliberately go back and start from 4B. You have someone’s shoulder to stand on but you won’t take it.”
“4B: No marriage, no giving birth , no sex, no dating. Doesn't that mean they are still serving as donkeys: supporting idols and otaku, believing in religion, using pornographic content, and consuming misogynistic brands... It really makes one recognize by a glance what stupid things they are still doing.”
“I don't understand how this kind of castration of the feminist movement came about.”
Is some of the general consensus on twitter/x.
Two more things I will add here before I wrap this up:
I have seen a post in English about other principles to follow such as 5B, 7B or 8B. I am not aware of what these principles are and could not find a CN source to confirm this so if 5B, 7B and 8B do exist, I do not believe it originated from the CN movement.
There is also the concept of icing men out aka if a man comments on your social media posts immediately delete the comment EVEN if it is a comment in agreement. For this while I also could not find a specific CN source for the 10bt sisters, it feels like it is just natural to not interact with men. I have yet to see debates on whether someone can be part of 10bt and still have a boyfriend, husband, etc since the answer will always be a resounding NO. (And on this note… if you are curious about attitudes towards male family members.. rejection of filial piety is something that is very agreed upon. I would recommend first learning what filial piety entails in CN culture as whole if there is curiosity about this.)
I will wrap this up with one of my favorite concepts I have encountered from our 10bt sisters:
“When one woman keeps house*: five women are trapped: herself, daughter, mother, sister-in-law, and female coworkers”
[*keeps house meaning - “when one woman marries…”]
If there are sisters out here who are involved with this or have more info to add please feel free to do so! Also would love to get in touch with any that know more on the CN 10bt movement.
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i notice (when you're not around)
He promised to always answer when you needed him, no matter what. Or, 5 times he answers your call, and one time you answer his.
2.3k, 5+1 things, mentioned/referenced sex, cursing, domestic fluff, jealousy, canon compliant, S.T.A.R.S reader, I just think Wesker would be the best husband
a/n: all my fics are cross posted to my ao3
-> masterlist
-> i notice (when you're not around) on ao3
One
“Wesker speaking.”
He’s standing in the hallway, only half paying attention to his phone as he keeps an eye on the agents in the conference room. Chris and Barry sounded to be on the verge of snapping at each other, but he had promised to answer when you called.
“Captain! I’m so sorry, I didn’t think you’d actually answer.”
He hums absently, narrowing his eyes into the room, before his attention snaps to you. “Are you crying?”
You sniffle a few times and clear your throat. “I- no! No, I’m fine! It’s okay, listen I shouldn’t have called, you sound busy-”
“I am, we’re debriefing with the Beta team. What do you need?” He doesn’t mean to sound harsh, you’re obviously upset, but he really can see Chris’ eyes about to bulge out of his head with every word Barry spits at him.
“I- well, it’s really embarrassing, actually, but someone rear-ended me and they drove off, but I can’t get dispatch to answer because I think there’s something going on downtown-”
He barks out your name, “Get to the point.”
You suck in an audible breath and sniffle again. “My car is totaled, and I think I have a concussion.”
Chris is now standing over the table, sneering at Barry while Jill and Rebecca hold both of them back. Wesker sighs heavily, and hangs his head. “Where are you? I’m leaving now.”
Two
You’re sitting stiffly on his couch - the couch , you keep forgetting this is technically your home now too. He’s only been gone a week, but the dark woods and long driveway outside the house drive an eerie feeling straight through your stomach. Your phone is pressed tightly to your ear, the dial tone like a death bell over the speaker.
“Wesker speaking.”
You suck in a breath, suddenly at a loss for words. What had you even called for?
He makes a sound like he’s checking the phone and grumbles. “I'm busy. What is it?”
You snap out of whatever nervous trance you were in. “Sorry, it’s nothing, I just thought I heard something and I thought- it’s fine!” Your voice squeaks as you try to excuse why you really wanted to call. Somehow over the last year he's become a comfort to you, somewhere between being your suave mysterious Captain to stealing you away after the Arklay incident. He hadn’t left you alone longer than a day or two since then. Now, sitting alone in the middle of the night in his- your - dark, empty house, you just really needed to hear his voice.
“Are you afraid of the dark?” He sounds smug, and you hear the crunch of snow and distant yelling. “Poor pet. You miss me, don’t you?”
You scowl and blush. “Wha- no! When are you coming home?”
He chuckles darkly and hums. He doesn’t speak for a moment, and you bite your lip as you sway in place, trying to channel your nerves. How do you ask for the terrorist who practically kidnapped you for reassurance? His voice has an unfamiliar note to it when he replies. “Shouldn’t be much longer. You know I can’t tell you more.”
“Oh, yeah, right.” You swallow around the lump in your throat, voice sounding small. “I just… can’t sleep. I got used to you talking in your office, and now it’s… really quiet outside.”
He’s quiet again, and you laugh awkwardly to fill the same silence that’s making you paranoid. “Sorry, that’s probably weird-”
“Go lay down, pet. In my bed.”
You freeze at his words, choking on a breath as he sighs. You had been in his room a total of once, only after you drunkenly kissed him and he put you to bed. You hadn’t talked about that night, but he had been…not affectionate, but certainly less distant since it happened.
“I’m serious. I can talk for a few more minutes, but that’s it.”
You quickly make your way to his room, crawling under his soft sheets and laying there stiffly. He must hear the rustle of the sheets and your tense breaths because he scoffs. “It’s just a bed, relax. Nothing is getting in there without me finding out.”
You whisper a weak “Okay,” and listen as he begins to tell you about something simple he’s been doing in Antarctica, and you realize he’s definitely making up details to cover what’s really going on. You don’t mind though, and quickly begin to drift off to the gruff rumble of his voice. You’re nearly asleep when he says he has to go, but you swear you can hear one last thing before he hangs up, and the three quiet words sound suspiciously like what you had whispered to him, right before kissing him.
You might be wrong though, but the sheets smell like him, and you finally sleep through the night.
Three
“Hello, dearheart.”
“Are you alone? Take me off speaker.” Your voice was dark, and you heard Albert’s sigh. You imagined him rolling his eyes the way he did when you made a joke he didn’t like. “I’m serious, Albert. This is important.”
That caught his attention. You heard him speak low away from the phone, and then the click of a door shutting. “What’s wrong? Are you oka-”
“You need to get rid of her. Right now.” You cut him off, gripping your phone so tight your fingers were starting to ache. “I mean it, if I so much as hear her voice -”
“What the hell are you on about?” He sounded nearly as pissed as you now, and you felt a spark of vindication in your chest. “I don’t have time to listen to you throw a tantrum because I can’t babysit you. I have work to do.”
“Watch your mouth, Albert, I’m not the one letting an Italian nepo baby run her filthy hands all over me. I don’t give a shit what work you have to do, you should consider yourself lucky I haven’t gotten rid of her myself.”
He was silent for a moment, and then his laugh rumbled through your speaker. “Fiesty today, are we, pet?” He paused, and sighed. Despite your anger, your lip twitched in amusement at the thought of him sliding his glasses up and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am… sorry, that she did that. But you know what’s at stake here, and that she is a key part of Tri-Cell-”
You scoffed. “Yeah, Tri-Cell’s expansion, whatever. I don’t care. She can be a key part over a fucking Skype call for all I care, just keep. Her hands. Off of you.” You growled into the phone, white-knuckling the desk you were standing over. His desk, actually, where you had sneakily logged into his database and were watching his hacked security systems. You smirked to yourself at his bristling silence. He may be the evil mastermind, but he didn’t keep you around for nothing.
“I’ll do what I can.”
It was as good a promise as you would ever get from him, and you hummed flatly, your anger starting to dissipate. “Fine… please come home in one piece.”
He huffed again, but sounded softer. “I will, sweet thing.”
You let a smile slip out at his words. “I love you, Al.”
“Stop going into my office when I’m gone.”
The call clicked, and you set your phone on his desk. You looked back up to the monitors, seeing him enter the room with Excella and Jill again, but this time he pointedly waved her off as she approached. Your mouth twitched in a smirk. Albert may not be a sweet man, but he certainly knew when to listen.
Four
“I expected more of a challenge after all this time, Chris. How disappointing…”
Before Wesker could sneer at Chris’ cheesy retort, his phone rang in his pocket. He immediately pulled it out, recognizing your ringtone like he would his own voice. “Yes?”
“Hi, baby. You’re not busy, are you? The neighbors just did the absolute worst thing and I really wanted to-” Your voice was like honey to his ears, before you dropped the sweet tone and cut yourself off. “Is that Chris?”
He dropped the phone to his side, smirking as Jill took the BSAA agents out with ease. He could hear your voice still jabbering from the speaker, no doubt confused and nosey about where he was. He ignored you a moment longer, sneering at Chris pinned to the floor beneath Jill as he taunted him. “...I’ll leave you two to catch up.”
He quickly reactivated the P30 device on Jill, before he turned and entered the elevator, pointedly ignoring Chris’ obnoxious yelling. He finally raised his phone back to his ear, where, no surprise, you were still yapping.
“-Anyway, that wasn’t really the point, but Greg said he thinks it’s my brake system, but I’m not having a problem with-”
“It’s not your brakes, I just had those changed in December.” Wesker scowled, annoyed by stupid neighbor Greg’s complete incompetence. You stopped talking, and laughed breathily. “Oh, good you’re listening again. Was that Chris? You didn’t tell me this was an arch nemesis mission, you should’ve told him I said hi!”
“He is not the point of this ‘mission’, my love. Merely an obstacle I have to kick aside, as usual.”
You hummed knowingly, odd shuffling and tapping sounds coming though your end of the call. Wesker’s mouth twitched in a smile, you were probably making lunch right about now.
“Did you fight him? I wish I could’ve seen, I bet you were doing that sexy hand thing agai-”
“What are you yapping about now?” He growled, face quickly heating up. Only you had ever managed to make him blush like a teenager with your frankly vulgar mouth.
“What? You know what I’m talking about, the thing where you start bending your fingers like you don’t know how to make a fist- it’s actually kind of cute, but you do something similar every time you’re fingerin-”
He let out a choked breath, and hung up the call right as he heard your bright laugh. He struggled to will away his red cheeks before the elevator doors opened. God forbid Excella see him like this, he would never hear the end of it from either of you.
Five
“Hngh- what is it?”
You’re glaring at the soup aisle shelves when he answers, his voice gruff and raspy from sleep. Your mouth drops open and your eyes widen. Shit, you hadn’t even thought he might finally be asleep. “I’m sorry baby, were you napping? I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
He groans and the rustling of sheets crackle through the phone like static. “S’fine. What do you want?”
You can’t blame him for sounding grumpy. You would too, after all, if you had been dragged half-burned-alive covered in black goo from a volcano less than a month ago. “I’m at the grocery store, what soup do you want? I know you usually like the stew but Uro made you sick when you had it the other day so I’m thinking maybe just broth?”
He grumbles, and you think he might actually be mad now. “I told you to quit calling it that, it isn’t a pet, it’s a damn virus.”
You hum noncommittally. “Well, we’re kind of stuck with it forever, and it really does have a mind of its own. Do you want to try ramen instead? You said you liked the chicken when you had it that one time, but we don’t have to use the powder.”
He’s silent on the other end, and you frown, calling his name worriedly. He groans and rustles the sheets again. He heaves a great sigh, and mumbles a quick “I want chicken noodle.”
You smile widely, setting a few cans in the cart, and then grabbing a couple more just in case . He used to eat enough for a football team, and his appetite has slowly been coming back since he’s been home. “Gotcha. I should be home in about an hour, traffic was kind of bad on the way-”
He’s snoring through the speaker, a deep rumble of air that he would absolutely blush and stammer and scowl about if you mentioned it. You just shake your head fondly and end the call.
Maybe his stomach would be up for trying something sweet tonight, you’d better get a box of hot chocolate as well.
Plus One
You’re surprised when your phone rings as you crawl into the hotel bed, the sheets stiff but soft, and also freezing . You’re tempted not to answer it, but you can’t stop yourself.
“You know we aren’t supposed to see each other before the wedding, Al.”
He doesn’t talk, but you can hear the wet slide of his hand as he strokes himself. He’s panting, soft puffs of air. “We aren’t seeing each other- ah, we’re on the phone.”
You smirk, and begin to pass your hand down your chest, feeling the blush heating up your skin. “Wes’... you’re gonna give us bad luck.”
He groans weakly, the slick sounds picking up. “C’mon, baby, just a few minutes- I won’t even touch you, I just-” he gasps, and you adore the way he sounds utterly broken fucking his own hand. You hum, pretending to consider it for a moment.
“No, I don’t think so. I don’t think you should finish at all, actually.” You can’t help the teasing lilt of your voice, or the way your stomach drops when he moans again.
“Sweetheart, if you don’t get over here, now-”
“Goodnight, Albert.” You murmur breathlessly, making sure he hears the wet drag of your fingers between your legs, and at his choked groan you hang up the call. Just a few more hours , you think as you bring yourself over the edge at the memory of his wide, calloused palms. He’ll be mine.
#albert wesker x reader#albert wesker x you#albert wesker#resident evil#resident evil x reader#albert wesker fluff#trekk writes#re5 wesker#stars wesker#re1 wesker
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Ok so @king-crawler technically I finished your 2 hour Turbo documentary yesterday at 3 AM BUT regardless I have recentlt watched it and I have a LOT I'd like to say, clarify details or lil things you might have missed or could be interpreted differently when you look at them another way :3
With that last bit I am diving head first into the flashback scene since it's heavily referencing that.
First and foremost, keep in mind that it is being narrated from Felix's point of view- remember that he was in his game doing his job when the accident happened, it was while every person ever was inside their respective game being busy being used as avatars; also referencing back what you said on Felix- he's not exactly the most understanding of others' situations, he stays well within his comfort zone. Keep that in mind.
When Roadblasters is plugged in the flashback, you can see the two players using TurboTime immediately abandon the game to check out the new one, and the screen Turbo's pixelated image apoears on is completely dark, don't you think that is very reminiscent of a Game Over screen? 🙃 meaning, the two players abandoned Turbo in the middle of a race, likely causing him to crash and lose.
Remember King Candy's shock, and sudden change in behaviour as soon as he sees Vanellope sprinting past him? What follows is a volatile fit of rage and violence when things don't go his way, this sudden change of trajectory. Wouldn't you reckon this moment could mirror how Turbo felt in the flashback? He's being used as an avatar, and suddenly he loses control as he gets ditched and gets his race put to a halt. That initial shock of "what is going on. This wasn't supposed to happen!"
Following that, while I don't doubt he got jealous, he SPRINTED into Roadblasters the moment he lost... but not to try to take it over- to take petty revenge instead, interrupting the players' race and causing them to crash just like they did to him, preventing him from winning in his game. Picture it as a "if I can't have this, then you won't have it either" type mentality towards Roadblasters.
Going back to Felix and why his ignorance/remaining within his bubble could have possibility caused him to misread Turbo's intentions. Felix also is one to make assumptions in the beginning of the movie, like how for example when trying to calm the Nicelanders when Ralph goes missing: "Ralph probably fell asleep in Tapper's bathroom again!" Or some such. It makes sense he would make assumptions about Turbo as well, ESPECIALLY if he knew him personally and how self-obsessed he is. Doesn't take a genius to realize this guy does not like to lose.
Secondly, the final boss scene. King Candybug in general really. I disagree with your idea that Turbo has always been this hungry for power he'd want to take over the entire arcade. We both know that if that happened, if every game was infested by Cy-bugs, Litwak would be forced to close down his business because all of the games would be unplayable. His 'attention' wouldn't last very long if every game gets unplugged, his thought process to take over the arcade is purely manic and deranged for someone like him who has been well-known to be a master manipulator, able to keep a stable facade for over a decade without wanting to take over other racing games? That 'taking over the arcade' sounds very unlike him. It sounds more like... a cy-bug's programming. A cy-bug's programming that has gained enough conciousness to start plotting and planning. Because it now has the intelligence of a person, fused with him, learned what he knows.
Speaking of which, remember the cybug that ate King Candy?
Look at it's candy-pattern. Haven't we seen that somewhere before...?
Oh right! Right here, when the cybug eats some pepperming roots.
The same cybug that ended up there after falling into the taffy lake... after being ejected from a shuttle.
The same cybug that Ralph brought with himself.
What was the very first thing that King Candybug said to ralph when they see eachother again for the showdown?
"Because of you, Ralph, I'm now the most powerful virus in the arcade!"
I don't think, during this one moment at least, that this was Turbo speaking.
#wreck it ralph#king candy#turbo#my writing#infodump#aheem aheem i hope u enjoy my silly little ideas and observations smiles
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The Vavoom: Or, when the show's hinting Crowley & Aziraphale first kissed
It was not in 2.06, if that makes you feel any better?
Meta/theory hybrid stuffity stuff below the cut. As always, all interpretations are valid. This isn't meant to offend anyone who sees things differently. Post contains spoilers for the films 'Kiss Me Deadly' (1955), 'About Time' (2013), 'Love Actually' (2003), and 'Four Weddings and a Funeral' (1994). Apologies that this took a few days. Life's been wild this week. Let's dive in...
Right. So. The Vavoom...
I feel like most of us, by this point, are probably in agreement that Crowley is not talking about something he saw in a Richard Curtis film when he talks about his plan to help The Shop Lesbians to fall in love... and that, if he's not talking about something he saw in a movie, then he's talking about something he experienced... and yes, sure, absolutely Crowley has been on Earth for 6,000 years and could have vavoomed with basically anyone who has ever lived at this point as well as one semi-sentient car and even the world's once only-remaining unicorn but... we all know he's talking about Aziraphale. So this is about unraveling what the show presents as Clues to this end and using those Clues to solve for x and see if we can prove that Crowley is talking about Aziraphale and then figure out when this Vavoom happened with the information the show has given us so far... and the good news is that we can do all of those things so here we go...
The first thing to do is to eliminate the Richard Curtis films. Let's just start with Crowley saying that he saw his whole vavoom moment in "a Richard Curtis film." As someone who has seen a frankly embarrassing number of Richard Curtis films, I can tell you that this is a very amusing misdirect from a writing standpoint. It is amusing because it's a wink of sorts towards the same problem that comes up when you try to find The Vavoom on the GO timeline based on what the show's presented so far. What is that problem? It's that-- at first, cursory glance-- no one GO scene or Curtis film seems to have everything Crowley describes. Don't worry, though, because we actually do have enough information to find the lone caraway seed beneath these three cowrie shells here. You'll be Aziraphale-voicing an "a-HA!" very soon. :)
There are only two Richard Curtis films that feature elements Crowley lists as having occurred during The Vavoom: 'About Time' and 'Four Weddings and a Funeral.' The Awning of a New Age scene in GO actually winds up an homage of sorts to 'About Time', as it is referencing it pretty heavily. However, there is no vavooming in 'About Time'; meaning, there is not this gaze-to-kiss moment that Crowley is talking about. A wedding reception tent collapses under heavy rain and soaks several supporting characters in the film, much like how our supporting characters Nina and Maggie get soaked by too much rain causing the awning to collapse. There is no gaze or almost-kiss or kiss before it. There are other canopies-- umbrellas-- but no one gazes or kisses under one. So, Crowley did not see The Vavoom in 'About Time'-- but that particular Richard Curtis film might have been the one in Crowley's mind when he quickly latched onto Richard Curtis films while speaking with Aziraphale in the pub.
As a result, thinking about his conversation with Aziraphale while trying to craft his Shop Lesbians Vavoom might have actually caused him to over-weather and cause the awning to drench Maggie & Nina. So the joke there is more that The Original Vavoom of which Crowley is speaking in the pub scene is something that really happened and had an element or two in common with a scene in the Richard Curtis film, 'About Time', which also features Bill Nighy (see: 'Love Actually' stuff below), whose mannerisms Crowley seems to like to emulate at times. As a result of seeing the film and thinking about how it *wasn't* like The Vavoom-- the canopy collapsing, the lack of an actual Vavoom in motion prior to this, all of that disappointing Crowley greatly when he saw this film lol-- Crowley ironically then says he got the whole idea of The Vavoom from a Richard Curtis film... when, in fact, *the distinct lack of Vavoom* in the film was what Crowley remembered from it... and then, upon thinking of the pub discussion when trying to start an Awning of a New Age for Maggie & Nina, it accidentally became part of his miracle, causing him to over-Weather and, kind of hilariously, substituted the kiss Crowley was trying to incite with the collapsing awning scene from 'About Time'... the film then disappointing him all over again lol.
The other Richard Curtis film that is relevant is 'Four Weddings and a Funeral.' You might be familiar with the scene-- its ending scene-- just from cultural osmosis as this point, even if you haven't seen the film. Hugh Grant proposes to Andie MacDowell in the pouring rain. So, the big problem with this scene is that there is no canopy. None. Whatsoever. They're soaked through. We never see them go inside. They look into each other's eyes and they kiss but it's raining on them the whole time and Crowley is really specific about his canopy requirements for Vavooming. This scene is also wrong because it's a proposal between characters who have known one another on and off for years and have a more extensive history, whereas Nina and Maggie are much earlier in a potential relationship and The Vavoom Crowley talks about is an intense gaze into a first kiss. That said... just as how 'About Time' ties to Nina & Maggie's story, there are some 'Four Weddings'-y elements to Crowley & Aziraphale's relationship, in that their story also covers them meeting up through different points in time and such. 'Four Weddings' was also the first mainstream, hit rom com to openly feature queer characters in supporting roles so it's a strong one for GO to be referencing... but, ultimately, no Crowley-described Vavoom scene in sight.
Finally, there's 'Love Actually', which doesn't actually have a single element in it that pertains to The Vavoom but I'm throwing it in here because I'm just looking at all GO ties to Richard Curtis films at this point. 'Love Actually' features Nina Sosanya (GO's Nina, of course) as a queer-coded character and, in GO, David Tennant has a few scenes where he seems to be channeling Bill Nighy's Billy Mack from 'Love Actually' in S1. (Tell me Crowley's not doing Billy Mack's walk when they cross the street to the bookshop in Eleven Years Ago in S1 lol.) For those of you who have somehow avoided seeing this movie lol, Billy Mack is an aging rock star who is the best character in the film and heavily queer-coded. In S2, there's also some Big Bill Nighy Energy in the "we'll just to have to make it worthwhile then" bit with Muriel in Heaven and also in the way he chuckles in the "I *was* there, you see" moment with Gabriel. Also probably worth mentioning that, in 'About Time', Bill Nighy plays the dad of one half of the main couple in the movie and his role is to teach him how to live life and this involves pursuing the woman he is trying to marry throughout his ability to fall through time. So, Bill Nighy is basically playing the S2 Crowley of 'About Time' while the main couple of that film parallels Maggie & Nina, in that he's setting up the scenario for the couple involved to get together. Nothing in the film, though, is as overt or contains elements that match The Vavoom, other than the collapsed awning, as we got into above.
So mah point is dolphins that while there are a couple of Richard Curtis films that contain bits and pieces of what Crowley is talking about, there isn't a single one that has anything really remotely close to the, uh, extremely specific scenario he was detailing... so now we have to look at just what the hell Crowley's on about, exactly... and for this, we are, surprisingly, going to wind up looking at a very different film from any by Richard Curtis-- 1955's classic film noir, 'Kiss Me Deadly'. Why this random film, you say? Because it's actually not at all random to GO S2. It's the origins of the phrase "vavoom"... and S2 of GO contains a multi-episode homage to the film.
'Kiss Me Deadly' is, tonally, very different from GO as it's pretty dark film noir but it has a plot you might find a little familiar. One night, driving down a dark road, the main character picks up a hitchhiker who has lost her memory. After she's murdered, the film revolves around the main character-- a private investigator-- and his lover/partner investigating the case to try to solve the mystery. GO's episode "The Hitchhiker" opens with a plot and visual homage to this film when Aziraphale picks up Shax in The Bentley and obviously S2 contains a plot surrounding a mystery related to a character who has lost their memory in Gabriel. I'm going to do a separate thing that is a deeper dive into this with particular emphasis on how the lead characters relate to Crowley and Aziraphale at another point in time because it crosses into too many other things to fit it into this one at the moment but the reason why I bring the film up now is because of its ties to the phrase "vavoom."
"Vavoom", alternatively spoken as "va va voom" and containing the same meaning, is thought to have originated in a cartoon in the late 1940s but its use in "Kiss Me Deadly" in 1955 is what pushed it into popular, cultural use and knowledge. In the film, there's a character named Nick, who is friends with the two leads (the Crowley & Aziraphale-paralleling Hammer and Velda). They have nicknamed him "Va Va Voom" because he says it so often. Nick is an auto mechanic who works on the leads' car-- yes, there's a Bentley parallel lol-- and it is his use of the phrase that made it one we are familiar with today. But what does it really mean exactly in terms of this scene in the pub?
Without going too far down the road that we wind up in another meta about wordplay and symbolism in S2 here, the show is doing things related around the word 'passion' and all of its various meanings. It begins with Aziraphale referring to Maggie's feelings for Nina as "a pash"-- which is British English slang for "a crush" or "an infatuation". It comes from the word "passion"... but the word "passion" actually means something much different. "Passion" is very specifically romantic, erotic love when used to describe a relationship. It means enthusiasm when about a hobby or the like-- Aziraphale will get the neighbors to come to the meeting/ball by negotiating their commitment based on things they're passionate about-- Mr. Arnold and Doctor Who, Mutt and the history of magic. Finally, S2 is tying a lot of this passion-related plot to *The* Passion-- as in, The Passion of the Christ, or the Christian phrase for the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Why is it called 'The Passion' anyway? Because the Latin root of 'passion' is 'pati', which actually means 'to suffer.' Looking at all of this and how the show pairs up scenes with different types of passion is a whole other meta. I'm bringing it up here because of the relationship between 'passion' and 'vavoom'...
"Vavoom" means voluptuously sexy. It means passionate. Something having a sense of "vavoom" or "vavavoom" means it is either suggestive of or is sensually pleasing. In GO S2, Maggie & Nina represent the pash use of passion-- the new love, the crush-- while Crowley & Aziraphale are the show's example of passion in its fuller, richer meaning of romantic, erotic love. So now that we eliminated the idea that Crowley is talking about having seen an example of this vavoom he's talking about in a movie-- I mean, 'Kiss Me Deadly' is totally a movie Crowley saw once so he might have first heard the phrase in it, like many people did but there's no vavoom itself the way Crowley describes it in the film, just the phrase-- but yeah, now that we've eliminated the idea that Crowley got his idea from a film, we can say with relative ease that he's talking about something he personally experienced. I think we can all agree that if he did, it was with Aziraphale and the purpose of him bringing it up in the scene is not just as a suggestion to solve the issue of needing to matchmake The Shop Lesbians but as a way of being seductive towards Aziraphale.
This is also part of 'Kiss Me Deadly' in that Crowley here is the Velda to Aziraphale's Hammer. Hammer is preoccupied with the mystery. Velda tries to help him solve it but is also seeking his romantic attention the whole time and being rebuffed in favor of the mystery. It's darker in the film, as you'd probably expect, since it's film noir, and Aziraphale is actually subtly playing back in GO S2. In GO, it's mostly played off as Crowley, kicked out of bed since the religious family are in the guest room lol, continuously making overtures towards Aziraphale to torment him a little for the whole Gabriel situation but also mainly just because he likes to and he misses him. (It has been, like, maybe 18 whole hours lol.) He continues it into later in the day when Muriel is in the bookshop and Aziraphale is a little more overtly playful then but he is in the pub scene as well. All of this also ties into the fact that Aziraphale wants to drive The Bentley but again, that's a whole other meta. Going to stay focused on the kiss here...
So what we're saying is that, in the scene in The Dirty Donkey, Crowley does that whole lean and the sexy hands and that super posh voice he does from time to time to seduce Aziraphale, and describes their first kiss back to Aziraphale when asked to come up with a romantic solution to help their neighbors realize they are in love. Specifically, Crowley says this:
Whew. *fans self* Jesus, Crowley... No wonder why Aziraphale thought you could help The Shop Lesbians. That? Was romantic...
The key thing I love about this is that while everything he says lends itself to the idea of a kiss, he doesn't actually explicitly say that until the later scene in the back room when Muriel is in the bookshop-- the "one fabulous kiss" part. It's evident later on when he explains the plan to Jimbriel and when he puts it into action that his intent is to trigger a scenario that might prompt Maggie and Nina into kissing and when the awning collapses, he feels like he failed at the overall Vavoom. He did, however, see it working from across the street, such were the fireworks, when they looked into each other's eyes and what's sweet and also very hot about this scene in the pub is that the looking into each other's eyes is the key bit of The Vavoom to Crowley. The kiss is what happened as a result of looking into each other's eyes. The romance of the gaze and the passion of the kiss = The Vavoom but the latter without the former isn't the whole rapturous, perfect moment and Crowley is into this moment. He's still weak in the knees over the thought of it.
And what he says happened in it? They looked into each other's eyes and realized they were made for each other? Crowley thinks that. He says that, flat out, to Aziraphale. Crowley. Who was abandoned by the God who was supposed to love him believes that same God created he and Aziraphale for each other. That they're fated, destined soulmates. And that they both knew it, in that moment when they were taking shelter from a sudden rainstorm together, under a canopy, and they gazed into each other's eyes and then
Yes, I am aware that he says "humans" in that bit in the pub scene. He's referring to Nina & Maggie but also he and Aziraphale have a tendency to refer to their love for one another in human terms in different scenes throughout the series, which is probably a whole other meta and *refocuses on finding this damn kiss here*...
So Crowley-- while heavily emphasizing the words "together" and "canopy", both for maximum sexiness and to lead us in the correct direction lol-- tells us what's needed in this scene, right? We need a sudden rainstorm, a canopy, them wet from the rain and taking shelter, Crowley's glasses to be off or he's in a situation to be able to take them off (ironically, unlike he was when he was in the pub while he's talking about all this erotic gazing), and then we have all this gazing into a very vavoom-y, very passionate first kiss.
So, what scenes seem at all remotely tied to things Crowley describes for The Vavoom? There are three scenes that jump out immediately-- and it's none of them lol. They *are not kidding* about quite literally 'three cowrie shells and a lone caraway seed'. There are three scenes that they want you to think could be connected to this and be distracted by to complete their sleight of hand trick. They want you to look towards Aziraphale's hand and not up his sleeve, so to speak.
So the three cowrie shells scenes here are Before the Beginning, Eden, and the Job minisode. Why? They are the scenes that involve Crowley and Aziraphale and some form of a canopy, which is one of the two words in Crowley's whole Vavoom moment that he heavily emphasizes. So it's not Before the Beginning and it's not Eden and why? Because we're missing the other word Crowley heavily emphasizes-- *together.* Crowley and Aziraphale took shelter from a sudden rainstorm *together* under a canopy. That's the set up. But Before the Beginning and Eden-- the first scenes our minds run to-- are not this because they are sheltering *one another* but not sheltering *together*. One of them is exposed to the rain each time.
There's an additional possibility that is thrown into the mix that is tied to these two scenes, which is the S2 announcement poster-- the one that features Crowley and Aziraphale on Whickber Street in the rain. That one is also out because Crowley is being sheltered from the rain by Aziraphale with a tartan umbrella (ridiculously adorable, I agree lol)-- but they're not both sheltering together. That one feels like it was designed just to fuck with us, especially because Crowley's hair in it is, for some reason, at Eleven Years Ago length in it. It's almost like it exists to both be cute and to, after the season is over, make us go wait... was it then? (It was not then.) More distractions. Ok, so, then what about the Job minisode?
Is it ox rib night? This seems to have some elements at play-- there's a roof and a storm and them together and all-around kiss vibes-- but it's actually not this, either. That said? Job is connected to it in a big way and helps prove my theory here so we're going to come back to it. I'll eliminate it here by pointing out that when Crowley defends The Vavoom as a possibility for Maggie & Nina to Aziraphale, he says "get humans wet and staring into each other's eyes" and "humans" in that bit is them, even if they are not fully. This eliminates the Job minisode as The Vavoom because it confirms that Crowley & Aziraphale did get wet as they went to shelter from the storm. In the Job minisode, they never go out in it. So, Job is out, too.
Ok, so then how do we find the one scene that unlocks this and points us towards the answer hidden in plain sight in front of us?
What is the one scene that really should tell us more about The Vavoom? How about the one wherein Crowley partially recreates it?
The Awning of a New Age is the lone carraway seed. Maggie & Nina paralleling Crowley & Aziraphale. What can we learn about what happened with Crowley & Aziraphale from what happened in this Maggie & Nina scene?
We already know that Crowley feels like he partially failed at recreating The Vavoom for them. It was meant to lead into a kiss and then the awning collapsed. That is what is different from Crowley & Aziraphale's first kiss but Crowley was delighted by the gazing, which we already know to be the very important bit of this here. Off of this, we can conclude that there's obviously a parallel of this bit for Crowley & Aziraphale and this is where the parallels in the scene stop. That means that what happens *before* the gazing moment in The Awning of a New Age scene is important because that's the parallel. So, what's happening while Crowley spots them together outside and starts up the rain? They're talking, right? And what are they talking about?
They're talking about one of them-- Nina-- having a partner who is unreasonably upset. Nina is anxious about it. She doesn't blame Maggie for it, as it's not Maggie's fault. It's also not Nina's own fault and what Lindsay wants from Nina is confining and abusive. Lindsay, we learn, is cruel. We decide in this scene really how much we don't like Nina with this woman and that we want her to be with nice Maggie who is sweet and supportive and is over the moon for her.
On the surface, this would seem to be absolutely nothing like any Crowley & Aziraphale scene we've ever seen, right? Fooled by what is on the surface-- modern lesbians in London Soho, one of whom has a romantic partner-- this seems to be a plot Crowley & Aziraphale have never had. Except, that it's not. It's a parallel to one you'll remember.
One, paralleling sentence here for you...
God's a bit tetchy...
Awning of a New Age unlocks that Lindsay being unreasonably angry and dolling out insane punishment for no actual misdeeds is a parallel to God during The Flood. God was Aziraphale's Lindsay-- the unseen, abusive partners, sending down their words and marching orders and causing distress. Crowley approached Aziraphale like how Maggie approaches Nina. Aziraphale half-heartedly tries to defend God the way that Nina half-heartedly tries to defend Lindsay but both pretty much give up in the face of Crowley's and Maggie's sane responses and support. The agreement that the present situation-- Lindsay about to abandon Nina, God about to abandon her creations in The Flood-- is horrible and unjust. They connect over the lack of justice. The Flood scene we saw ends as the rain begins, with Crowley and Aziraphale both looking up as it starts to fall.
Maggie and Nina get further-- they get to the first half of The Vavoom, in parallel. We haven't seen that yet with Crowley & Aziraphale. (Maggie & Nina also didn't have to go stop and save a bunch of people first lol.)
So how do we know that The Flood was the first kiss?
How do we know that Crowley and Aziraphale first kissed in Ancient Mesopotamia in fucking 3004 B.C. and have been vavoom sorted gone on each other ever since?
Because it happening in the aftermath of saving lives in The Flood would then mean it meets every one of the elements Crowley describes. They get wet from the storm. They will work to save everyone, which is evident from Aziraphale being dead fucking certain in the Job minisode that Crowley was a sweetheart who wasn't going to kill any goats or kids. How would he know this for sure? Saying that what God was doing was terrible in The Flood scene isn't enough for Aziraphale's surety by Job. That means that Mesopotamia and The Flood is the first time they teamed up. It means that Crowley saved people and animals during it. It more than likely means that he did so in a way similar to what he does during the Job minisode-- he transformed them into something that could survive the storm, probably rocks or something. (Big Medusa vibes lol.) But what would happen then? Crowley and Aziraphale would have to *stay through the storm to turn the people back*, right?
So, they'd need to seek shelter from the rainstorm. Under a canopy that could survive the storm. One they can both step back under and bump into one another beneath. Most likely, it's an actual canopy in original meaning of the word-- the shelter of trees. I think one of them (Crowley) bolted afterwards, based on the Job minisode, which we'll get to again in a second, and from under a canopy would be the easiest way to just be able to leave during a storm. (They did not spend the Biblical 40 days and 40 nights under that canopy or they almost certainly would have wound up having sex, which the show is suggesting in other scenes didn't happen for awhile after this which is also another meta lol.) But there's also another reason for trees that kind of cracks me up.
Remember when Aziraphale comes back from Edinburgh in S2 and, before he left, they had their whole Our Car/Our Bookshop thing and Crowley's been peeved for a day now over how Aziraphale got to go adventure in The Bentley and he got to wear a cardigan and babysit their former attempted murderer? And about how what he's really playfully irritated over is that he keeps trying to use Operation Shop Lesbians to turn Aziraphale on by mentioning their Vavoomy first kiss and Aziraphale is, kind of hilariously in retrospect, just totally tormenting him by barely indulging him on it? What happens when Aziraphale comes back from his trip?
Crowley-- genuinely-- says "there you are-- I was worried something had happened to you" and he's off-camera for a moment as he does so and the camera is on Aziraphale, who kind of seems like he would like one of Crowley's kisses about now. But what does Aziraphale get in place of where a kiss could have gone?
A face full of plants lol.
In their box, so that when he handed them to Aziraphale, they hung over his head like a canopy.
Don't wanna talk about The Vavoom, angel? Fine. You're just getting the trees. Mwah. *goes to his car and is all did you misssssss me kissy face*
Aziraphale, in old married bitch mode:
Finally, there's that Ancient Mesopotamia is, chronologically, the last scene so far in which Crowley is not seen wearing glasses, which is essential because Crowley-- while wearing his glasses in the pub lol-- describes the key bit of The Vavoom as involving staring into one another's eyes, which Crowley & Aziraphale can't do if Crowley has his glasses on. Since Crowley wears his glasses in approximately 87% of Good Omens, it means that the answer is in a scene where he's either not wearing them at all or could be seen as able to take them off. Mesopotamia meets that criteria. But there's still one more thing that can really hammer home the idea of this The Flood, Part 2 being their first kiss and that's going to be how we end up back at the Job minisode again.
Go back and think of the Job minisode again but now with the idea that the last time they saw one another-- ages before it-- they shared this moment of wildly passionate vavoom and look at how it recontextualizes the entire minisode.
Start with when they first see each other again. Where did *that* Aziraphale come from? He's teasing him.
The Aziraphale in Before the Beginning and in Eden and in the first bit of The Flood that we've seen is more anxious. He's not afraid of Crowley and he's definitely attracted to him but he's distracted by the dangers of what is happening while they're talking. Suddenly, he jumps from the Aziraphale of The Flood to the Aziraphale of the Job minisode. This one is flirtier. This one is literally like all so you never called-ing Bildad the Shuite lol. He's all "last time I saw you was... The Flood?" like he doesn't know and Crowley is all tight nod ohfuckit'shim and also ohfuckit'shimhavemissedhimsomuch and hiding behind his sunglasses-- Bildad is the first appearance of the sunglasses, chronologically, so we go from the Vavoomy gaze to Crowley hiding his eyes... this then all moves into the courtyard scene after a few moments...
Oh, what's this now? The only scene in the whole series in which Aziraphale asks Crowley to take his glasses off? And he does? So quickly-- intentionally-- that his expression from before is still on his face and it's just nothing but naked want like he's saying oh you wondered how I was looking at you from behind these this whole time? yeah, it was like this... Aziraphale is straight up asking for more vavoom. Take the glasses off. Look me in the eye and tell me you want this and yeah, sure, they're talking *on the surface* on *one level* of their conversation about whether or not Crowley is exhibiting serial killer tendencies and wanting to kill small animals and kids but, really, this scene is also the formation of their coded way of speaking to one another. Crowley's "I want to. I long (pause) to kill the blameless kids of Job the way I killed his blameless goats" and then lifting just enough of the magic to let Aziraphale see that he had actually not killed the goats at all but had actually faked their deaths, indicating that that was his plan for saving the kids as well... Well, it also means that *all* of what Crowley just said to him was coded. That's the weird pause after "I long" that breaks it into two sentences. It makes the second level of their conversation that Crowley whipped off his glasses, gazed into Aziraphale's eyes, and said I want to, I long... meaning, I want you, I want to kiss you again, I long for you...
But the bit of the Job episode that sells me on The Flood being The Vavoom is actually the bit just after Crowley miracles himself, Aziraphale, the kids, Jemimah's pot (because he's so not a serial killer, he saved the damn pot lol), the wine (because fuck that little Influencer Brat of Job-- Crowley's not about to kill a kid but he absolutely will drink the last of his wine for treating Aziraphale like a whore lol), and the food down to the cellar and started iguana-ing the kids. Why this bit? Because Aziraphale is fucking giddy and is just tormenting the living fuck out of Crowley.
He's all "I knew it!" and when you first watch the scene, right, you could think he means he knew that Crowley would save the kids. Yet, he already knows that by this point-- that's what the courtyard scene was. That's why he's yelling that he's "QUITE SURE" when Crowley asks him if he is (and calls him "angel" for the first time when doing so) while he's setting everything on fire just a moment before. Obviously, Aziraphale is happy that Crowley didn't kill the kids but what he's all I knew it *smug smile, actually fucking wiggling with flirty joy* about is that Crowley wanted to be alone with him again and would find a way to make it happen because what's the plan? The one that Aziraphale is totally teasing him about?
Aziraphale is going on about how oh, this is *Satan's* big plan, huh? A *big storm*? He loves every minute of it and he also really loves Crowley getting very close to him-- kissable close-- and being all "ooh aren't you brilliant?" when Aziraphale was acting smug. When did Crowley get that comfortable getting that close to him?
But yeah, Aziraphale loving every second of Crowley saving the kids, turning them into sightless/soundless iguanas, and sending a storm over the land for the night while keeping the two of them dry in a little cellar canopy so they can be alone together again-- essentially, repeating a version of The Vavoom scenario, as he'll still be trying to do millennia later... Aziraphale thought that very romantic and had no problem flirtily teasing the hell out of Crowley for it. Crowley's game is as ancient as Bildad the Shuite lol.
So yeah, what we're saying here is that there's a The Flood, Part 2 and that it's likely in S3. I actually wouldn't be surprised if it opened S3, since the first two seasons are opened with the other canopy-themed firsts-- the two first times they met, really, in Before the Beginning and Eden, both with the wing canopy-ing of one another-- so S3 could be the tree canopy and their first kiss. The Flood also seems likely to return because of how it ties thematically to the whole end of the world of S3's Second Coming plot.
One aspect of this theory that I really like is also that it means that Crowley was more female-presenting during their first kiss (which also goes along with the feminine energy sometimes associated with the phrase "vavoom"/"vavavoom") but also that when they next see one another in the Job minisode, Crowley is the more male-presenting Bildad the Shuite... and Aziraphale is really just into all of it. He's just into Crowley, full stop. We already know he is but I like the idea of it tied to their early days and showing it unfold a bit and how it's just all fine by Aziraphale, who just loves this being and is happy to see them and get to be alone with them again. It's very sweet and romantic.
I guess the last thing to say is that if this is true, we're all going to have a field day redoing the psychoanalysis of this bit below, aren't we?
#ineffable husbands#good omens#good omens 2#good omens meta#aziracrow#crowley#aziraphale#good omens theory#vavoom
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The Charter Hill Matter
It's finally done ;__; I've been working on this on and off for the better part of half a year now I think. It was one of the first bigger ideas I sketched out one afternoon shortly after finishing my first Cyberpunk playthrough in February '23 xD
The little background story tha inspired it, that I've definitely told before, goes as follows:
During "Gimme Danger", when talking with Takemura about their childhood, Corpo!V will talk about their childhood growing up in Charter Hill. And me, a sucker for details like that, in the middle of building a background story for my V at the time, immediately drove to Charter Hill then to figure out where a good place to live might be.
I chose a random apartment building on Grant Avenue, cause it had metro access, lots of shops, and all the bright neon lights and ads everyhwere that V mentions. Good enough, I thought, it's settled. He grew up there.
Flashforward about 20 hours of gameplay, I finally meet Kerry, and he invites V to Dark Matter. And I don't think I even initially realized it (bc, you know, I was slightly... preoccupied otherwise during that convo) but then it dawned on me... You can actually see the building I chose as V's childhood home quite well from up there. And he would obviously realize it, too. Since Vince doesn't have good memories of the place though he never brings it up, until Kerry eventually, during one of their many dates they end up having up there, notices he's been staring off into the distance a little more than usual.
And yeah... this is that scene and I really wanted to do it as a little comic ;__;
All backgrounds are ingame screenshots, the map of Charter Hill is a heavily edited screenshot of the interactive Cyberpunk Map (https://maps.piggyback.com/cyberpunk-2077/maps/night-city) and the street names I referenced from this map someone on Reddit put together by hand from going around and reading all the ingame street signs (https://www.reddit.com/r/LowSodiumCyberpunk/comments/msyg79/i_couldnt_find_a_map_of_night_city_with_street/). Both super duper useful resources for writing, can highly recommend, I use them all the time XD
Anyway, I hope you like my sappy, self-indulgent lil' comic, I sure as hell had a lot of fun working on it and I'm so proud to finally have it finsihed x3
#cyberpunk 2077#kerry eurodyne#cyberpunk kerry#cyberpunk v#corpo v#cyberpunk 2077 fanart#cp2077#cp77#cp2077 fanart#cp77 fanart#kerry eurodyne x v#male v cyberpunk#vincent ezaki#otp: to bad decisions#art by me#long post#love is stored in the forehead boops ;______;
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"Chega de Saudade" - Alastor X Reader fic
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader.
Summary: When Alastor breaks into the V's building seven years later he expects to find a lot of things, lot of obnoxious, enraging, tacky things. He did not expect to find you. The Radio Demon does not take betrayl lightly and you have to live with the consequences of selling your soul to his worst enemy. Better yet, you have to live with the consequences of selling your soul to Vox and Alastor finding out. The soul you sold because Alastor left you for 7 years. Safe to say, it's a mess. A pretty, angsty, dark and delicious mess.
Warnings: Alastor is in Hell for a reason,general hellish violence,general hellish creepiness,eventual smut, i carioca coded valentino bc i can and bc he is very carioca sorry everyone,blackmail, Soul Selling, author is really invested in politics and decided to micromanage hazbin hotel canon, Corruption, Extortion, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, but nothing too explicit,mature themes in general, canon divergence, Not Canon Compliant, Eventual Smut, Alastor gets insane in this one you've been warned, fear play, Possessive Behavior, posessive sex, big bad radio demon is gonna fuck up the guy who stole his girl and will make it everyone's problem, Reader-Insert,no y/n,no beta we die like men here, i feel bad for tagging vox in this fic cause i think it's a disservice i really hate him and i make it clear so vox stans be warned, it's hell i hope y'all remeber ethics are fluid, posessive!Alastor, unhinged!Alastor, Isane!Alastor
Taglist: honestly only my queen @jyoongim i have no credibility to tag anyone anymore after being away for so long. If you wanna be tagged on future updates just let me know!
A/N:HI HEY BUNNY ANON IF YOU ARE STILL HERE THIS ONE FOR YOU!! Hiii everyone guess who's back. I had this fic cooking for a while now, actually i had a lot of writing cooking but in a very Ao3 author fashion a lot happened. You see i was on this writing streak and then my 15yo dog died while i was out of state. I had to go back on anti depressants and take a sabbatical. I got a new puppy and she's the light of my life. Got super sick, won a horse show. My first plan for this fic was having the first 3 chapters done and ready for debuting together because i always feel i'm lacking when i show up with only one chapter lol. After a while i realised i needed to get this first chapter out too see the light of day if i wanted to write again so here it is. This fic is a bit different from my other Alastor fics and i have a rough outline of 5 chapters so i think this beast will be more than 20k words long for sure. I decided to get a little deeper into Hell's politics and all the "no one ever thought of using heavenly weapons against hell even tough Hell's ancient and the best worst of humanity and demonkind is here". I call that bullshit sorry i'm brazilian i'm well versed in shady politicians and shady politics and unfortunatly, dear reader, you are in for this ride too. This fic kicks off right after "Stayed Gone". Also did i mention i'm brazilian and that my works are heavily inspired by brazilian media. This entire fic was inspired by one of my favourite songs of all time "Chega de saudade". And let's be real, Alastor and bossa nova are the perfect match. So yeah, english is not my first language and this isn't beta'd so sorry for any confusion or mistakes. Thank you so so much for reading my fics and always leaving the most kind beautiful and heartwarming feedback. I hope i can still deliver a nice story to my darling readers.
Click here for my other fics.
CHAPTER ONE: chega de saudade a realidade é que sem ela não pode ser.
In the first year you were calm and collected. There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation to why he is gone. Is he even gone, gone? He’s coming home soon, you can feel it.
In the second year you convinced yourself there were signs everyone explaining why he was gone and when he was coming back, you were just too oblivious to them before. But everything can be a sign when you are delusional.
In the third year you cried so much you felt you were constantly drowning. You barely left home and some thought you were gone too. Gone to him.
In the fourth year you finally gave in and took the deal. Lack of self-preservation and machiavellian schemes working together to create a trap for him. He would come home out of anger, ire. But you can't outfox the fox.
In the fifth year you decided to scour hell and beyond after him. You went to places just to taunt him. Paranoia became your best friend, blood sweat and tears as you repeat “This time it will work, I'm sure of it”. Can a lie be said so many times it becomes the truth?
In the sixth year you accept defeat. You buried him deep and went about like he never existed in the first place. Isn’t it mystifying how this city screams his name?
It’s the seventh year now. The alarm on your phone rings and rings and you feel like scratching your face off. It’s time to meet your damned executioner.
Rolling out of bed you open the curtains to let some light in. The penthouse from the V’s building has a great view of Pentagram City, looking down you get the feeling of dystopian sci-fi that is so characteristic of the technology district. Limelights, digital outdoors, and big opulent, oppressing screens greet you like a constellation of dead stars, long distorted from their original purpose and form.
You follow processional routine as you get ready. Choose a beautiful dress, put on make-up, and do your hair. It all feels like preparation for a sacrifice. One thing you learned from Alastor is that appearances are the best strategy and you intend to greet your handmade battlefield like a roman legion.
Alastor. Even thinking of his name hurts, especially today when you need to face the consequences of your actions, the consequences of his actions. He is gone, he left you. And now Vox owns your soul. You blame your fall from grace entirely on him, he forced your hand, he made you do it. Out of desperation, out of defiance, you sold your soul to Vox so he would come back and save you, so he would come back out of hatred, anger and ire to tell how foolish you were, how betrayed he felt.
Betrayal. Selling your soul to his sworn arch enemy should be treason worthy of him dropping anything he was doing to come and punish you, to address you. You just wanted to get a reaction out of him, proof that he still cared. That he didn’t just get bored of the empire of terror he fought so hard to build in Hell. That he didn’t, deep down, just disregard you like a shiny novelty, to be left when it got old.
You dry the persistent tears that insist on falling with clinical coldness. You are past feeling sad now, you don’t even feel angry anymore. You are past any emotion really, you just want to get this over with and get back home.
You went about your deal with Vox in many different ways, sometimes you felt like it was a good alliance, a slap on Alastor’s face. A side quest to gather as much information from the V’s inner circle, a social experiment. The truth is, during these past almost four years you were a mental gymnastics pro to justify your new arrangements. The cognitive dissonance required to live with the decision of being forever tied to Vox was an herculean task and boy he didn’t make it any easier on you. He would never be as refined as Alastor when it came to torture but there’s something about the coldness and calculated reality of the television business that was it’s own type of Dante’s inferno.
As soon as he got word of Alastor’s disappearance the TV overlord was on your scent, and he wasn’t shy about it either. You dodged him and led him on for almost four full years before finally giving in, everything was more or less under control during the early years of Alastor’s disappearance.
Until you saw the angel army leaving.
Death and gore were all around you. The sky rained blood. You couldn’t breathe. You tried to take a step forward only to realize you were knee-deep in demon blood. Adam was particularly ruthless this time, he seemed to have realized the unbalance in Hell’s power structure with one of the most prolific demon overlord’s absence and took full advantage of it. You choked on the sulfur filled air while the portal closed and Adam threw a last middle finger at the Pride Ring. A clawed hand offered you support as you were about to fall, your heart skipped a beat, for a split second you felt elation. In that split second a thousand thoughts, four years of misery and confusion passed through your mind like a movie. You were sure this was Alastor, showing up after the unprecedented carnage of today’s reaping. With the next heartbeat came the delivery of the most cruel reminder: the hand reaching for you was Vox’s. Alastor doesn’t care about anything anymore, not even losing territory.
The TV overlord was covered in thick, red blood and looked vindicated, a wide chesire’s cat grin on his face. Baptized in carnage, Vox had finally triumphed for the V’s.The V’s were now a force to be reckoned with in Hell, there’s no argument to be made. A good chunk of Alastor’s territory was now under their control, and everything that came with it too. Including you.
“My darling doe, be careful, we can’t have you hurt after the battle is won can we?”
Darling doe.
You threw up at the casual cruelty of the name Alastor called you with such affection being desecrated by Vox. He still supported you as you spilled your guts, you’d blame it on the nerves, the adrenaline, the reeking smell of death. Not on the fact that you knew he finally won, that the thing that broke you was to hear your name like that, on your lover archenemy’s lips. After that it happened. You sold your soul to vox. Of course he coerced you into it, and you were so mad with grief and betrayal that you felt like betraying Alastor back was the just thing to do. Pettiness and paradoxical hope dripping from your lips as the whole thing was done.
Every year this same flashback assaulted your mind as you got ready to meet Vox on the anniversary of your deal. It never went past the look you gave those pixelated eyes as he held you on that barren land, stopping right there when you made the decision that finalized your ruin. You still wouldn’t, couldn't face what really went down when you formalized your deal with Vox. Those memories were suppressed and tucked in under layers and layers of regret and self-hatred.
You gave yourself a final look in the mirror. No makeup smudging this time, you were getting good at numbing your feelings. Just a few tears, no more sobbing.
The yearly meeting with the V’s after the extermination was the perfect cover actually, everything was done in a way that it seemed like you were all cooperating. After all, you did hold a very good knowledge of the inner workings of Alastor’s deals, subordinates and territory. You knew who the V’s could “call in favours” and how to keep the peace. Or as close to peace as peace came when an abrupt power transition happened in Hell. You were a valuable asset to anyone really. Articulated in politics, masterful at the art of persuasion, kind, soft, charismatic, assertive, all in perfect balance, and frankly, breathtakingly beautiful. It wasn’t without reason that Alastor fell for you and that you became his most trusted advisor. You and Rosie were able to conceal his absence and manage his affairs for good two years and the better part of the third without raising any suspicion. Of course, the bigger they are the harder they fall and now you were walking down the corridor of the V’s building carrying a bulk of important intel that would dictate the fate of the Overlord power structure for the next year, at least.
The hallways of the building changed a lot since you first walked them. As the V’s grew in power, the building grew in grandeur. It was now an imposing beast, looming over Pentagram City. Modern corporate architecture that incorporated the savage capitalism of Vox Tech. Savage, cold, sterile, overbearing that’s how being inside the lair of Hell’s most up and coming trio felt. The tall ceilings and big glass windows were exactly what you would expect of a broadcasting network and silicon valley Big Tech company combined. As an esteemed guest, you got the privilege of staying in the coveted penthouses, with someone to attend to your every wish and demand. You also got an idea that Vox went a little extra with your treatment as a form of flirtation, he has been trying to convince you into moving in for a while, every time you stayed in, your usual penthouse had some shiny new thing that was made just for you, as he repeatedly emphasized.
This year’s token of affection was a makeup mirror-gadget-thingy, that looked out of a Totally Spies episode. You had to admit to yourself that this was way more thoughtful and useful than the gifts from the previous years. The thing was cute, practical and would come in handy, which was a big improvement. Vox had tried to sway you with all types of guns and high tech devices in vain. Well, there was also that embarrassing stance with the wire flowers with a hidden recording device. Needless to say that after that entire debacle Vox learned that he may own your soul but you weren’t a damsel in distress and you would reinforce your side of the bargain if he went too far.
You reached the elevator and went in, pushing the button for your destination.
The earlier you start this the earlier it is over, you remind yourself.
The panoramic elevator descended to the well guarded conference room, the guards didn’t bat an eye to you entering. You realized you were becoming a familiar face around here, that made you dread what’s ahead of you even more.
“There she is! Hello princesa, I missed that pretty face!” Valentino greets you. He’s the only one inside, sitting on the edge of the table. Well, that’s unusual… you think. Vox was always the first to get to the post-extermination meetings, plus he always gave you a slightly early timetable so he could have some alone time with you. Something must be going on.
“Hey Valentino, it’s nice to see you too! What gossip do you have for me today?” you give your best chirpy tone to the love moth. Look, you know how bad Valentino is, he is despicable really, even to your standards. But ethics are fluid, to say the least, in Hell. The acclaimed porn king was surprisingly engaging to talk to. He was fun and actually treated you like a person, which was paradoxical in itself, considering how infamous he is for exploiting and commodifying souls. You drove yourself mad with theories of possible agendas behind Valentino’s kindness towards you, but it was the simplest of answers really, for some reason Valentino liked you and he never denied himself of what he liked.
“You have no idea! We have a lot to catch up on, did I tell you about that bitch who was trying to spy on us?” a set arms gestures to you to sit down next to him. The next 10 minutes are spent talking frivolities with the moth. You’re not complaining, it's nice to get your mind off this dreadful day and you don’t get many.
Valentino, as always, has a lot to say, little goes on in Hell without him knowing who, what, where and why. Information, gossip, rumors, facts, if a single out of context word can be weaponized you better be aware that he knows. Pentagram city can be divided into districts and ruled by lots of different overlords, still, Valentino’s intricate web of influence and coercion stretches across all territories. Another poor soul manifests here and goes somewhere they should not be, talk to someone they should not talk to, discover something they should never know. All cases of “wrong place at the wrong time” are happily solved by a large sum of money from the moth and suddenly another thread is weaved into his web of knowledge, another secret made his. Valentino doesn’t operate like most Overlords and that’s where his power lies. He bribed and fucked his way into every major circle, every overlord’s inner circle, Hell’s best kept secret. If you were anyone in the hellish afterlife Valentino either fucked you or fucked someone very close to you.
Knowledge is power, and Hell’s gossip girl was proof of it.
You swallowed a lump you didn’t know existed, hearing the moth talk about how things changed in a matter of hours during the early post-war made you even more aware of the severity of the intel you were carrying. It was earth shattering (no pun intended) information.
Angels can be hurt. Angels can be killed. That meant a completely different way of existing in the afterlife, if this information goes public, the consequences are unpredictable and dire.
You don’t feel excitement knowing you technically can fight back, you feel pure dread.
To be completely honest, you feel like these “news” are not really news. You were pretty acquainted with politics back on Earth and this whole “omg no one knew about this! even though this was staring us right on your faces! is total bullshit. Hell is ancient, the exterminations are not a new thing, and there are some pretty smart people down here. To think that millenia after millenia masters of torture and skilled killers never thought of using heaven’s own firepower against them is wishful thinking at best. Sure, maybe after a few generations most sinners, even those who have power, may have been kept out of the loop about the chick in the holy army’s armor… but not knowing this at all just feels like a pretty convenient case of collective amnesia.
Convenient, that’s exactly what this is. It’s brutal, but that’s Hell. A scheduled massacre is a blessing to those who rule to maintain, reinforce and extend their power. And if you get lucky enough, empires will fall and you will make your move.
Vini Vidi Vici, that’s all you need to know about how Hell's politics work.
It’s true that with every massacre the Angel Army gets more and more brutal and unhinged. What was once justified as righteous mercy killings to stabilize the ever growing hellish population now is just a display of cruelty, these angels kill for sport. There have been rumors floating around of how the disproportional annihilation tactics are preparation for something bigger for a while now , and with the demonic royal families either operating totally off Pride Ring or being completely MIA, it is no wonder those influential enough are starting to get restless.
And that ties back to your first point, the thing that got you picking the skin around your nails while Valentino gossips. There’s a reason why this is being revealed now, you know how creating a narrative works, a few smart words and ideas become beasts of its own. A beast of its own that will tear anything on its way with the right fuel. The V’s have fuel to spare. Whose interest is that this information stayed hidden? Whose interest is that this information was allowed to be shared now?
Hell is constructed by layers and layers of complicated militias and parallel governance, each one a locked room of secrecy that is impossible to enter without a huge amount of connections and power.
“In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king. And, honey, you should see me in a crown” Valentino wisely said to you once. He’s a man of many many keys, and right now you are holding the fucking master key under your arm.
Speaking of Valentino, he notices that you dozed off and snaps his fingers, grounding you back to reality.
“My, my. You must have extremely sensitive information today to keep you from hearing the nastiest, hottest gossip of the moment babe” He takes a hit from his cigarette, an elegant and sensual move straight from an Old Hollywood film. The heart shaped smoke rings caress your face and for an instant you feel hypnotized, nodding your head profusely.
“But I already knew that” behind the rose coloured shades, you see a playful wink from his infamous red hot eyes.
The porn overlord quickly snaps his head towards the huge automatic doors, that open and reveal Vox and Velvette walking side by side exchanging looks between them that scream conspiracy.
“Sorry about the wait, my darling” Vox purrs on your way, stopping behind your chair and placing his hands on top of it, fingers dangerously close to your neck and shoulder. He pushes your hair to the side and lingers there, on your neck. “but as they say ain’t no rest for the wicked, am I right?” Velvette takes her seat beside Vox’s empty chair, meticulously placed in front of you, polite pleasantries leaving her mouth. She’s still a mystery, you never know her true stance on you, she keeps you on your toes. Does she like you? Does she hate you? Does she even care?
“If you say so, boss!” you give him your best pageant smile. “So, who’s climbing up the ladder of the food chain today?” You bat your eyelashes at him. Your performance begins.
“Aw baby, you know I love when you call me boss! keep talking dirty to me” Vox lands a wet kiss on your cheek and makes his way to his chair.
Right in front of you, so he’s always staring at you, drinking in your every move. You cannot fail, you cannot falter.
As much as you’ve gotten used to pretending, pretending you like the V’s, pretending you don’t feel disgusting inside for being here, pretending you don’t hate Alastor for putting you in this situation with a burning passion but still missing him so much you feel someday your heart will stop beating in protest to him absence, it’s still hard. Especially when Vox touches you. Your eyes focus on cybersharks swimming behind Vox’s seat and concentrate on keeping your awarding winning poker face.
“This year looks really promising I will tell you that! The orders for both your weapons and tragedy porn cameras doubled since the last extermination! I will give credit where credit is due, that fuckboy Adam knows how to put on a show!” he snaps his fingers graphs, stats and footage appears on the various screens. But it’s all irrelevant, it won’t matter when you spill your secret.
“Lot’s of veeeery interesting happenings but I thought this year we might… start differently. Let’s forget the profit talk for now, change things a little. Did you guys see anything out of the ordinary? Did something stand out?!” he spins around his Big Boss ™ chair and stops with his hand under his chin, leaning in to you like a schoolgirl with the hottest new gossip.
“Oh! I heard things -” Val also leans in getting closer to the TV overlord face.
Vox’s grin shrinks, lifting a finger in protest
“We know, we know, you always hear things Val” he replies in a monotone tone
Velvette, who spent this entire time typing away on her phone, interjects
“Look, don’t take this the wrong way girlypop” finally looking at you she asks, or rather, states the million dollar question “ but what Vox means is that we know you have something big cooking inside those files, so let’s drop the bullshit and go straight to it”
The doll puts her phone down, she knows how important this is, how this secret will probably dictate how things will go from now on. You can call Velvette many things, but she is clever and under all that attitude and posh accent lies a brilliant strategist.
“Plus, we all know you are contractually obligated to tell anyway, so spill, and can make this quick and painless to everyone involved”
Right, your cartesian, empirical proof that angels can be killed. Caught on the scene of the crime with the gun in your hands.
You don’t waste anymore time, the words leave your lips like you’re choking with the threat they present. You tell them everything: where the exorcist was killed, how he was killed, the golden ichor blood that oozed from the wound, where the body was hidden. Everyone is silent while you speak, even the mechanical sharks seem to have stopped swimming to listen.
After that you don’t remember much more of the meeting, it felt like you took the backseat of your own mind, the overwhelming feeling of dread making you so out of breath. Something is coming, something fucking coming and you can’t breathe. Anxiety sets under your skin like a second skeleton begging to crawl its way out and you find yourself sitting in one of the lavish anterooms of the V’s building.
“So, the cat’s out of the bag then” you recall hearing Vox saying when, as if on cue, a few moments before the meeting was being declared over, the emergency broadcast about the reduction of the extermination date from a year to six months was issued. You four watch the transmission and you wonder if that’s what it feels like to get the news of the end of the Cold War, the doomsday clock finally hits midnight and we are nuking each other out.
Mutual destruction assured.
Your mind wanders back to your life on earth, if life up there is better or worse these days. You died so young, everybody told you, your Untimely Demise a big topic of conversation that you yourself didn’t know much about. But nothing, nothing in all of your living years and your years from Hell to eternity could prepare you for what comes next.
“So the Radio Demon is back in town! Why is he hanging around? What does it mean for your family?”
The news hit your ears like a tsunami and you feel dizzy. It’s easy to find a big screen here and you are running to the closest one before your brain can even compute the words.
Alastor is back, Alastor is back, and he didn’t come find you.
The next sound wave is even worse, dragging you ashore to your feelings without any reprieve.
“Salutations!
Good to be back on the air! Yes, I know it's been a while, since someone with style treated hell to a broadcast
Sinners, rejoice!”
This isn’t a prank, there are no cameras and a sadistic tv host waiting for your humiliating reaction, instead all pairs of eyes in Hell are glued to the screen watching as the two Overlords fight it out.
Thus, no one notices how your entire body shakes and your vision goes black. It’s too much, and you grip the rails from the stairs that lead to the foyer for dear life. Your heart is beating out of your chest. No one notices how you cry, how you whimper Alastor’s name like a prayer, how the tears run down your face and you feel paralyzed. You want to run, a million thoughts per heartbeat making your head swim. The best you can do is collapse on the floor. So you do, you collapse trying to catch your breath as you plan your sweet escape, how you are going to Houdini yourself out of this situation right to his arms.
“Tune on in
when I'm done, your status quo will know its race is run”
You want to kiss him, you want to slap him, you want to tell him how much you missed him, you much your fucking hate him. You want him to drag you to his rooms and make you pay for cursing him out. You want him, you want your Alastor back. You cannot breathe.
“Oh, this will be fun.”
and then all the lights go out.
There’s a beginning of an uproar happening, the electric building dies a quick and unforgiving death, demons run around and Vox is flying down the stairs trying to do damage control. But even he is failing to keep his composure, because he knows. Oh how you know too.
Alastor is like a natural disaster, a shattering force that bends everything on its way with the sheer force of will. The inevitable reckoning that comes to your town, that judges and executes everyone that you love.
And now he is here.
You see the burning red hot pair of eyes first, their predatory gaze hold the entire room hostage, looking for his prey and then they land on you.
The piercing intensity of Alastor’s eyes, the flickering reds of damnation itself, regard you with surprise, elation and something more. So overbearing those eyes are, they make you shiver, bearing the weight of his gaze that penetrates deep into your soul. Your soul that is not yours anymore, it belongs to the man he hates, the man he despises.
The Radio Demon’s towering frame closes the distance between you two in five long strides, you do your best to keep yourself upright and not cower at the sight of him. He looks like Rapture and righteous torture, coming to deliver your setance. Vox knows his sentence is being delivered here and now too, so he runs, runs to you. You feel static and an electrifying pull, metal clinking. A chain. A glowing blue chain on your neck and Vox’s pulling it tight.
“What? what the fuck is going on? what’s this?” snapping your neck quickly towards Vox you whimper, you beg. The few seconds you stopped looking into Alastor’s eyes causing seething rage inside the deer demon, ire that makes the room tremble.
‘“Talk over the radio, that way everyone can hear, baby” Vox says straight at Alastor, like it is a shooting gun. The look on the TV Overlord is maniac, a sideway cocky smile that drips pettiness. Just because Vox clearly lost this battle, with all tvs and electricity on petagram city going dark, it doesn’t mean he can’t still forever tarnish this victory.
Alastor’s demonform covers the already dark building in opaque, thick shadows, radio static picks up around the room like a tornado chocking the majority of the unfortunate demons that are still inside, in a desperate attempt to seek shelter.
No words leave the radio host’s lips as he grows even taller, breaking the posh entrance of the building, debris flying down causing even more damage, the tall glass windows shatter in a million pieces courtesy of his tentacles tearing down everything on their way. The sounds of destruction and despair are loud but you haven’t been listening to the world outside you and your returned lover’s radio dial eye’s for a while. A doe caught in the headlight of his eyes the best you can do in brace for the inevitable impact that is coming your way.
In a flash of his scarlet eyes a fire ignites, the flames born from it are unnatural, behaving like a hive mind to kill and destroy.
You always knew that facing Alastor after these 7 years would not be easy, but you never imagine your reunion like this, in the midst of pomppeian fire, a wild raw power, the oncoming storm that is Alastor when he attacks.
Vox knows this fight is over, his ego hurt and today’s accounts always written as a victorious comeback from the Radio Demon, nevertheless, between the three of you Vox will always know who really won, who drew the last card, had the last laugh. He did, holding Alastor’s girl on a leash because he owns her. The soul of the woman the Radio Demon dared to love is his, the man Alastor despises with a burning passion, and that’s enough for now.
The raging flames circle the three of you and without much more flair Vox drops his act, your chain disappearing from your neck. You drop to the floor, branching yourself on all fours. You consider crawling your way to Alastor, so you can explain, so you can cry, so you can beg. You don’t know for what exactly you will be begging for: your life? his forgiveness? his punishment? you just know a lot of begging and pleading will be involved.
But the decision is made for you.
“Run, run my little darling doe” Vox commands “Run and do whatever you need to do”
You get up on your feet in a completely ungracious move and Alastor’s out of the room instantly. The flames never touch you on the way out, the outside world greets you: a cacophony of screams, sirens, burning sounds, the infernal orchestra that becomes the soundtrack of your life.
“Oh, and by the way” Vox screams from the threshold of the decaying building “we just got news that your place on Cannibal Town got trashed by some wayward sinners during extermination. But don’t worry you can always come home here, come home to me!”
You do your best to ignore his taunting, and you pray to whoever is listening that Alastor didn’t hear it. But it’s futile, the pavement where he is stepping cracks a dark cloud of static and shadows trail after him. He definitely heard and felt the implications of these words.
“Al.. Al!” you scream running after your lover.
Fuck, you’re still in heels, and those aren’t your running heels.
Kicking the damned shoes off you run faster, you cry harder and plead faster.
When you lived, your life always felt a bit surreal, weird stuff happened to you that you couldn’t really explain. People always joked that screenwriters of your life were the most creative people alive, the thing that happened to you never happened to anyone else. You died young, with a big, full life ahead of you, but you took this as gospel to your afterlife, after all everything related to your death was a mystery to you. But the things that happened to you living or dead were a raw reality impossible to make up.
The uncertainty of your death only fuels your resolve to fight for the life you found in the afterworld.
“Al, wait!” you are starting to get truly desperate, you need to get to him otherwise you are pretty certain you will drop dead here and now.
“Alastor please, please listen to me” your voice failing, you finally choking from the smoke, from the suppressed tears. If Alastor doesn’t hear you now you are not sure you can carry on after him, you’re too tired too scared. You him to save you like the damsel in distress you are right now so bad.
Alastor dramatically comes to a halt.
“I. am. Not. Having. This. Conversation. Here.” his voice is staggered, still. Filled with static and a murderous edge to it. His long arms catch your wrist and pull you close, flush against his chest, you almost stumble but a powerful arm around your waist locks you tight to him.
It’s the first touch in seven years, your legs shake at the realization that he’s real, he’s here. You lock your arms around his neck, the familiar fabric of his overcoat, the soft strands of his hair, they all feel like coming home.
Something inside Alastor snaps when he remembers, when he feels how small you are in comparison to him, only one arm securing you safely to him. Some paradoxical fight starts inside him, wild wild want, wild wild rage against tameness, the docile calm you bring whenever you are at his side.
The world disappears for a few seconds as darkness engulfs both of you, inside the black moving vacuum only the two of you exist, greeting each other in bloody homecoming.
Alastor takes you back to the Hotel, landing with a low thump inside his room. For a second his hand supports the small of your back, preventing you from falling forward. After all it’s been 7 years since you shadowtravelled with him, he knows you are terribly out of practice.
His consideration towards you only lasts this precious second thought, because he makes his way across the room, creating as much distance as he can between the two of you. Your touch disarms him, he is aware of that since the first time your hand brushed against his, the first time his lips ghosted on top of your knuckles. If Alastor is touching you he is extremely likely to get soft, to remember how much you mean to him, what you do to him, so he will be merciful. And right now the last thing the deer demon wants is to be disarmed, to show you mercy. He can feel your betrayal burning inside his veins, clouding his judgment with ire and jealousy.
Alastor doesn’t fight those feelings, on the contrary, he lets them take him by storm adding fuel to his already bad temper. That’s the only way he can face you now, that’s the only way he can make you understand.
You don’t get any time to gather your bearings, from the corner of your eye you notice a forest. His room is bigger on the inside and has a fucking conservation area but that’s hardly the most pressing matter at the moment. The pressing matter at the moment is that you are getting whiplash from touching your demon lover for the first time in seven years and his subsequent refusal to touch you, stationing himself across the room to you.
Why isn’t he with you? by your side as you ride the shockwaves of today together? You are scared, but above all you feel overwhelming sadness.
“How did it happen?” he finally snaps, breaking the deafening silence. It’s the first time Alastor regards you, directly, in 7 years and the weight his words bare is so heavy you wish for more of the silence. “Tell me, how did it happen?” his eyes are wild, dangerously close to radio dials.
“How did it happen? You tell me Alastor! You left me, you fucking left me!” you wish you could be your usually articulated self, you rehearsed this conversation so many times in your mind and in none of them you started with such venom on your lips. But it has been too long, and maybe the poison from all those years alone and afraid beside Vox drips through.
The Radio Demon sees the tears that fall profusely from your big doe eyes, and they sting more than an acclaimed torturer like him could have anticipated. Alastor finds himself still disarmed, because with every single glistening tear that falls he can see how hurt, how scared you are. He is the only one allowed to make you scared, he owns your fear.
But that’s the problem isn’t it? He owns nothing. Vox does. And that realization turns him back to feeling seething rage.
“So my mere absence is enough to change your devotion? Is me being here the only thing that stopped you from falling into his arms?” more poison. By the end of the night you both will choke on it.
“Al.. Al” you are sobbing now, your throat tightens and it’s hard to breath it’s hard to speak. “ I had to do it. You don’t get it, you don’t get it.” your voice breaks “hemademedoit, hemademedoit!!”. You swallow half the words, whimpering, as if you say it fast enough the action will quickly become the past, as if the memories won’t haunt you. And yet the memories flood your mind
A dim-lit room, the smell of blood and something burning.
“He is gone baby, and he isn’t coming back”
Electricity makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
A stranger’s hand pushes the hair to the side of your face, dread creeps up inside of you.
“This is the only way my dear, the best decision you can make”
The same stranger’s hand grab you by the waist
“I’m the only one who can protect you now, you know that right?”
eyes that make you freeze, it’s hard to think. eyes that make it hard to say no.
“If this is hard for you, you can pretend that I’m him”
a wrong type of static pricks your lips
“This won’t hurt”
a shockwave hits your body and it feels like you are being split open
You have to steady yourself on the closest piece of furniture. You cower as the repressed memories from the night you finally gave in to Vox assault your mind, trying to make yourself as small as possible, like he is coming back to do it all again. Cries and incoherent words leave your lips and you don’t know if you actually said what happened or if this entire time you have just been crying. You entire body hurts as you hyperventilate “Al, I’m so sorry” you whisper
That’s what undoes Alastor, you curling yourself in a ball, defeated and scared at the ghost of the man he hates. You looking away from him like you are undeserving of him, of his punishment, of his love. Like you are tainted. Alastor can’t make the exact words of your confession about how it happened, but he heard enough. Vox would never make you come to him willingly, Alastor knows that. Whatever Vox did - and Alastor has a lot of ideas of what he did - he will pay double for it.
Alastor’s blackened heart shatters when he calls your name and you don’t look up to meet his eyes, like you always do. He was always your lantern for when you were drowning. He meant to break you, hurt you like that. He just wanted to make you come to him, beg for his forgiveness, beg him to soothe the pain.
“Mon coeur, my sweet darling doe you are safe” Alastor voice goes so soft it hurts “Don’t fret, it’s in the past, it’s over, you are safe with me now as you are meant to be” he coos.
Still, you can’t read your lover’s mind. So you don’t know his heart is shattered, you don’t know how much he loathes himself for letting this get this far. You are so caught up on your own feelings, reeling the rage and the memories that you miss the softness of his voice and his outstretched hard and you inevitably choke on the poison.
“No. No!” you snap “You don’t get to say that. You have no right to say that!” you scream as you get up “I’m not safe, I will never be safe because you weren’t there to protect me, you promised Alastor, you fucking promised” the poison is now inside you, heartstopping waves of hurt consume your body and sprit. Right now the same burning passion that makes you heart beat for Alastor makes you hate him too. You were never good with ugly feelings, you always pride yourself for being soft to be strong. Your kindness and act of rebellion during the hellish reality you lived. You were never good with bad feelings, so you do something you never thought you’d do.
You shove the Radio Demon, that man you love so much it drives you to insanity. You shove him because the shame is too much, all the ugly feelings ball up inside, convincing you that you don’t deserve him, that you already lost him. And you won’t survive his dismissal.
You never talked back to him, you never raised your voice. Not because you were afraid to, but because you never had to, hence the reason why Alastor is so taken aback that your pitiful attempt of violence actually moves him from where he was standing.
Alastor shoves you back, pushing you up against the wall with a searing kiss. He kisses you like you are his last chance at salvation, like he wants to be redeemed. He licks your lips as you struggle to catch your breath, pushing his hips hard against your core, making you straddle him. Alastor doesn’t grant you a moment of reprieve, his lips come crashing down on yours again, his tongue inside your mouth dancing to a madman’s tune. He does what he does best, he takes and takes and takes. He takes your breath away, he takes all the callous words that threaten to leave your lips, aimed at him.
You succumb to your demon lover, your nails dig into his skin and he moans inside your mouth, he bites your lips enough to draw blood. In the end Alastor is still Alastor, and of course he gets all hot and bothered when fighting. You feel delirious with the taste of his lips, your blood and your salty tears mixing together, an unholy ambrosia. His hardness press just the right way to make you sing creating a current of desire after a seven year long drought.
His hands are quick, ridding up your shirt making he grab your ass and then your hips, strong enough to bruise. His clawed finger is already tweaking your nipple that way he knows you love. Your bravado melts, in perfect synchrony to when he sinks his teeth deep into your neck, drinking everything: that wretched poison that tarnished your words, the sacred warmth of your blood. You moan his name like a prayer that he promptly answers, he’s kissing you like a drowning man again, your blood on his lips painting your lips red like you both just drank from the holy grail, his hand cups your other breast and you vow to never speak to him like that again, only if it’s gonna get you up against the wall like that with him.
And then he stops.
“I hope this kiss haunts you” he says, voice still drunk with desire, low and threatening. He swiftly moves you off him, walking away and creating the same distance from when this all started “haunts your every breath, finds its way inside your every waking moment until you are mad with regret”
You are bewildered, eyes widening in disbelief. What is he doing? How can he go from 0 to a 100 so fast?
“I hope this kiss haunts you, so you never forget that you were the only woman who ever had me at the palm of her hand and you decided to throw it all away with that calamitous cynicism of yours.”
So that’s what’s happening. You can never expect to beat a master at his own game, Alastor is still cruel when he is merciful. When push comes to shove he will always win. There’s only so far you can get with taunting his repentance, playing with his heart laid bare at your feet, filled with sorrow and begging for forgiveness. He was ready to apologize, to dry your tears and soothe your fears, worshiping your delicious body and the ground you walked on. He was ready to admit that this was half his fault until your venom stung him beyond the realm of spoken word.
“I understand it now, it must be hard for you to cope with your own decisions, your own failings, so you take it all on me. I hope you remember this when you come back to beg, on your knees for my forgiveness. And trust me, you will.” Of course Alastor would torture you with the knowlodge of his guilt and despair, the loss of his benevolence, the promise of desire and carnality. He will always be a torturer at heart, and you forgot that’s the first rule you need to always remember when dealing with him.
“You’ve got your demons darling” never was your precious pet name said with such disdain. Static starts to gather around you, and in a flash his hand is on your neck
“and they all, Look. Like. Me” his voice is distorted when he finishes cursing you, there’s a tempest behind his eyes that entraps you, the burning red of his irises condemn you.
The Radio demon is a raging fire, an oncoming storm. But he is also meticulous, cruel and calculating, if you dared to question him, to step on the grace he gladly gave you, you clearly were aware of everything he did to lull his absence. All the plans and contingencies he made to hush your worrying thoughts about him and bathe your threshing heart on tranquiline waters.
And you decided to mock it. To mock him and his love for you.
You are crying again, but this time Alastor is fucking glad he was the one to hurt you, to reduce you to a mess of regret and tears.
Tonight in Hell, power shifts from one Overlord to another. Sinners plan and freak out accordingly.
But their machinations are all meaningless.
The 7 years you spent away from Alastor made you sad, the three years spent on Vox’s side made you bitter. The V’s operate on poison, it’s their fuel. And maybe the poison drips through.
Tonight you drank the poison and it broke you.
Tonight, for the first time, the poison broke Alastor too.
#HEY BUNNY ANON THIS ONE IS FOR YOU I NEVER FORGET A REQUEST I TAKE 5 MONTHS BUT I DONT FORGET IT#alastor x reader#alastor x reader smut#alastor x you#alastor fanfic#hazbin hotel x reader#the radio demon x you#im insaneeeeeeeee#baixaria#im sorry everyone#alastor#the radio demon#hazbin hotel fic
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Just like Piltover, Arcane's beauty hides its fundamental problems. Its ableist, antisemetic, acephobic, classist, and worst of all, it doesn't initially seem that way.
Firstly, I want to say that this post and my problem with all of this is due to the real-life references, biases, and viewpoints of the team people who created the show, made the design decisions, wrote the scripts, and continue to defend what many have pointed out are genuine problems in their stories and characters. This nothing to do with the VAs, individual animators, supporting crew, or even the characters themselves. I'm genuinely heartbroken for all those people who proudly worked on the show, did their parts beautifully, supported the viewers, and are met with a fanbase disappointed, hurt, and angry about something completely out of their control.
I wrote up a different post about Piltover vs Zaun in the original lore and how that version is such a different situation than we we got.
Despite everything they did to make the Arcane undercity/Zaun this horrible place, they keep referencing the positives of LoL Zaun (an equal and respected society) and attributing them to Arcane Zaun. All of this is straight from the AoA:
"When you look closely, Piltover and Zaun are not entirely dissimilar" (y'all literally designed them as polar opposites)
Zaun is a refuge for outcasts who don't have a home, and there is the thrilling sense that anything is possible. So pretty much the exact opposite of what Vi was trying to show Cait?
In Piltover everything is heavily regulated; Zaun is wild and more pure meritocracy. "its is not completely lawless, though there are some issues with the mob." That's certainly one way to put it.
Zaunites "make magic out of nothing. nothing is precious, everything can be recycled and be reworked to make it better" I'm sure it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that people can't afford to replace things when they break. Nope. Completely plausible reasoning. No real life parallel at all.
One example of innovation is a jeweler from Zaun who makes unique gothic work. Not only did they never showed us this side of the undercity, I maintain NOBODY in Piltover is putting on a gas mask to go jewelry shopping in a slum.
"Even though they were oppressed, they can innovate in ways Topside can't. Like well let's take this freedom we have because they don't care about us, and use it to find beauty and innovation. That's where Ekko's little conclave came in." Did they forget the literal orphans he rescued from those "shady streets"? What were they free from, their parents? Cause Piltover's enforcers seem to kill a lot of those despite "not caring". This is straight from Ekko's LoL lore where he spent his days being a kid running around with the Lost Children and inventing for fun. Arcane Ekko got Misfit Toys as an intro song. The Firelights were called a gang. These are not happy, healthy kids enjoying their world. They're vigilantes taking care of other kids who have nobody else.
"Ekko emerged as one of the unlikely heroes of the show, rising to meet tough, sometimes heartwrenching challenges, and becoming a charismatic and beloved leader" His LoL lore is that of a self-educated genius described as "The Hero of Zaun's Youth". Beloved pretty firmly established already. Also charismatic...are we really not past the point where its not supposed to be a shock that a black guy can be articulate?
Sevika's arm is specifically described as "flamboyant", which was the same word used to describe Piltover's augments
This gave me the vibe that they were trying to glorify or romanticize Zaunites' suffering and environment, but on further reflection I think that's giving them way too much credit. Christian's reply below makes it pretty clear he doesn't understand his own story, and Alex's indicates they weren't even trying to tell it and are surprised by this interpretation. Because to them, the Zaunites were the bad guys all along.
(Cool cool name one team member who has personal experience with living in under an oppressive ruling class that is either ignores their suffering or actively worsens it. I'll wait.)
Also, I think its very telling that a cocreator admits to having difficulty distinguishing between a group of systemically abused people fighting for their right to live on their own terms and people breaking the law because want power and influence and money. I don't think Peaky Blinders and the French and American Revolution (among others) are really compatible stories.
"It was an impossible pipe dream if you ask me." Well then. All the nations that successfully rose up and freed themselves from their oppressive overlords were just flukes I guess. Also I'm not sure how they managed to figure out the alien invasion lack of relatability and not realize that's basically what they ended up with. Also, the fact that they keep framing it as a civil war rather than a revolutionary one is mindbogglingly out of touch.
So they were trying to comment on the two party system, but also the point wasn't to comment on the real world. They wanted to show the widening wealth gap in a "fun way", but also that's not what they were shooting for. Over and over we've heard about how the show is about duality, the struggle of Jinx and Vi and the struggle of the two cities. If they didn't want to comment on the real world, didn't know enough about politics to even realize what they were doing or what message they sent, DON'T MAKE A $250 MILLION STORY ABOUT IT. Thanks to their contributions, we now have a story about two girls brutally traumatized by their environment enveloped in a pro-oppressor, forgive your abusers theme. Well I aint forgiving any of this.
I get the idea of "show, not tell", but some things do need to be explicitly told. Oppression is objectively wrong no matter who the oppressed are should not be left up to interpretation. Its not the viewers' job to piece together that Zaun's problems are ultimately caused by Piltover, especially since what they are shown is that death of a child makes the world a better place. Not once in 18 episodes do they ever explicitly condemn Piltover. Not once did they validate Zaun's right to independence. We got "forgiveness" (forgiving your abusers? great message) and "finding your way back to each other" (which none of the duos actually did. They're all "dead"). And my personal favorite, the important lesson that asexual people do not have happy, healthy, nonplatonic relationships, so TAKE THAT JAYVIK SHIPPERS.
Since they ended Arcane with a reference to a Japanese proverb, in the spirit of duality I'm ending with a quote by someone who actually has personal experience on the subject:
“If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor."- Desmond Tutu
#jayvik#asexual#asexual viktor#i'macedon't@me#arcane critical#arcane criticism#arcane critique#arcane analysis#arcane meta#art of arcane#arcane season 2#arcane league of legends#arcane season one#arcane ekko#arcane vi#arcane caitlyn#arcane silco#arcane sevika#arcane viktor#arcane jinx#piltover and zaun#arcane piltover#arcane zaun#classism#inequality#ableism#acephobia#antisemitism#oppression#christian linke
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hi Hank! I’d love to hear some of your thoughts on Sanford, if uhh, that’s okay with you!
not the greatest with words so this is going to be messy and ill try to keep it shorter.
mainly gonna be referencing this series and not as much project nexus
i think he is painfully underrated and heavily misinterpretated which is really confusing to me because of how much material he has on screen. it doesn't take that much to pay attention to a character that has more screentime that one of the other most popular characters in the series and game.
hes expressive, not wildly dramatically expressive but hes the only character besides jeb that shows facial expressions or some sort of dramatic body language. hes not heavily emotional but he's probably the only person to show atleast something but that mostly comes from fustration or stress.
people dont mention his paranoia enough. hes constantly hyper vigilant, way more than anyone else. even if hes been sneaked up on a few times hes constantly checking over his shoulder and surveying the area and keeping an eye out even when he isnt directly in the line of fire. keeping an eye out for the people around him and himself.
big fan of him being the one to have a bond with everyone, he manages the play well with others and is good at helping keep track of surroundings which ties in with him being hypervigilant especially in MC 11. even while hes stumbling and limping hes still keeping an eye out and keeping track and trying to pay attention to his surroundings.
with the shit i mentioned before where hes expressive with and fustration and anger hes still playful and is still having fun between shots when theres brief moments of a break. playing rock paper scissors, dancing around with his teammate, playful sort of open motion as he get anchors in mc 12, and feeling himself up in his new outfit.
hes tough as shit and i dont think people give him enough credit for that as if it wasnt obvious enough with the hell he went through in MC12 and bring labeled as "unkillable". getting shot and still limping around and then hitting himself with a shot of adrenaline and getting moving again like fucking nothing, taking hit after hit of being bullied and pushed around by tricky, getting flung around and into walls, getting dragged to hell while still alive, fighting iff being possessed, getting stabbed and taking the knife he was stabbed with and etc.
i hate that people label him as deimos' bimbo boytoy with tits, hes a tough motherfucker that has survived it all. hes playful and intimidating, hes a freak and a guy.
id say more but thats all youre getting. take this as bullshit ramble demo-lite because i rant about this bullshit for hours.
#@gruntmail.com#.txt#took me a bit to get back to you#kept rewriting shit#but yeah this is barely anything its just hard to put my thoughts into cohesive words
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Constant Companions Closeup #8: LIAISON
(also on spotify!)
Welcome once more to the Constant Companions Closeups - a series of in-depth dives into the songs off of my latest album, Constant Companions! After the nightmarish tiktok voice brainrot of Aggrandicize, it's finally time to talk about Lesbian I mean Liaison!
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...It's a love song.
...
That's about it.
...
..
.
Oh you want me to say more okay
I don't really write simple and straightforward love songs much!! Love is absolutely a core aspect of my songwriting, and I love a lot of people and a lot of things, but even when I invoke romantic love, it's usually not entirely literal? If that makes sense.
But, like, c'mon. I'm a lesbian. I love women with the best of 'em. Sometimes I just wanna be gay! Especially on an album as fraught with emotional moments as Constant Companions is, I feel like it's really important to have at least one simple moment to settle on.
...
oh you want me to say More
Well okay. I like yuri. I like vocal synths. And maybe my himejoshi ass likes making certain combinations of vocal synths do gay shit lesbian style.
lets move on already
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I love the band Phoenix. I'll be completely honest and tell you that I first heard their music when Lisztomania and 1901 came out as DLC for Rock Band 2 but hey that's how a lot of people my age found a lot of music when they were younger probably. Their album Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix was one of a couple major sonic touchstones for how I wanted Constant Companions to sound - bouncy, warm, synthetic-yet-natural, with multiple shades of idiosyncrasies - but Liaison in particular was a pretty bold-faced attempt to directly evoke their music, at least in terms of arrangement.
Now, I'm not well-read or French enough to fully match the bright-eyed abstract lyricism or historical knowledge of their songwriting completely - but I can be Jamie Paige about it, reference Arthurian legend, and quote another freaking song I wrote
🤼♀️, also known as :women_wrestling:, isn't the gayest song I've ever written, but it's certainly up there, and it gets referenced pretty heavily in Liaison. Maybe this is the aftercare once they're done in the ring? Maybe there are more complicated layers hiding beneath the saccharine sweetness of these hopeless lovers...
Maybe I'm just gay. Ever consider that, huh?
That being said, for reasons I won't go into here, there's some amount of the vocal synth fandom that interpret Solaria and ANRI as being in a sort of toxic embittered lesbian situationship... which does make the layers a little more interesting... though if you ask me? I think lesbians deserve to be happy. What about that you shithead
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Finally, because I have a moral obligation to make sure you've all seen this, please enjoy ODDEEO's very personal and moving take on Liaison.
Of course, let me know if you have any other questions below!! Otherwise, I'll be back tomorrow to talk about the most transgender song I've ever written - Object of Affection!
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Title: Two Conditions
(Chapter 8 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)
*Crossposted to AO3 Here*
Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader, Aokiji/Kuzan x Reader (referenced), Smoker x Reader (referenced)
Chapter Warnings: language, controlling/possessive relationship, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex referenced (female receiving), Doffy considering baby trapping reader, Doffy referencing attraction to reader even when she was still a teen (nothing happened)
Chapter Synopsis: It’s now day two of your three day agreement to stay with Doflamingo. You’re still surviving, even enjoying it at times. But whether that is for better or worse remains to be seen as he’s keen on coercing your full commitment to him as soon as possible.
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9
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It was clear that you were far more familiar with sharing a bed than Doflamingo was for as deeply as you now slept. Either this or you were just that exhausted from enduring him so many more times throughout the night.
Even his cock was finally feeling a bit sore from so much grinding, lube or not. But he never would have told you that, just watching you sleeping against him still in what was probably now two or three in the morning.
He’d only allowed you out of the bed long enough earlier to eat dinner with him as well as to use the attached master bath to clean up, and occasionally relieve your bladder from the beer you’d had in town and all the wine which came alone with him after.
Dinner had been a quick one out on the balcony, you and he both indulging in a mushroom risotto with scallops. More of that traditional Scyllian fare prepared from the kitchen and personal chefs below. Though those servants would have long gone home by now.
Even as expensive as this place had been to purchase, it was still far smaller than what he was used to. Which also meant that it stayed less crowded inside. Really, not much more than the two of you left except for some useless guards perhaps still patrolling this late at night.
But you had seemed to approve when first seeing the villa. Because of course, what difference did you know? The majority of your quiet hours were likely only had laying in a marine bunk not much bigger than a coffin, having to hear all your other crew moving and breathing around you in the ships you traveled on.
Like an ant in the dirt with all the others.
But he couldn’t stop watching you all the same, so vulnerable beside him. This fascination with you in particular only seeming to worsen exponentially each time that he had you alone.
And he already had thrown down the gauntlet with Tsuru, announcing his intentions to keep pursuing you despite her strong misgivings. So he’d have to be prepared for those consequences soon.
She had promised to air everything she knew about him in an attempt to drive you off. All in the name of protecting you of course. And goddamn that woman did know almost all of it. And even what she had no proof for, she likely still heavily suspected.
But him racing against that clock to capture you fully before she could sabotage him only made things that much more interesting really.
It was obvious that you and Tsuru had yet to connect again since she’d first found out. But the moment she was back on the scene, it’d be a full out battle of wills for your fate he was sure.
And this was the primary reason everything had to be rushed along.
Though, courting you at this speed did agree with his natural impatience too of course. He’d waited long enough to have these chances with you after all.
Whether you accepted it yet or not, he had wanted this from very first sight. And he absolutely would have fucked you senseless in the North Blue too if things had worked out better then. Teenage body or not for you at that time in your life.
Sometimes he still suspected that you and Tsuru had even added a few years onto your official marine record to make you legal for recruitment back then. She’d kept you hidden aboard her ship as a little chore girl well before training you up to let you out into the field with villains like him he was sure.
Because she had learned the hard way not to leave the wrong child behind again hadn’t she?
Doflamingo smirked to himself at those old thoughts, just burying that scarred left side of his face back against you now.
He was going to have to tell you that part of his story eventually. Because she would if he didn’t. The one about the rage filled little boy whose eye and life your insufferable race had tried to steal as they rose up against him.
The bottomless violence of humankind only contrasted in the one older woman he’d met soon after that offered him a brief respite which nearly made him change it all.
He had begged Tsuru not to leave him there. That boy had cried out for a mother’s warmth one last time and been so fatefully denied.
Too young to recruit then she’d said, and with biological family still alive that she wouldn’t remove him from.
Oh how Doflamingo had wondered how many nights she had lain awake ruing that mistake ever since. Especially when her peer Sengoku had found an even younger Rosinante soon after and done for that traitor what she wouldn’t for him. Of course Doflamingo had never learned about Sengoku’s direct involvement until long after his brother’s death.
But now, so much like his bird namesake which sometimes hid their head beneath their wings as they slept, Doflamingo had long since made a habit of burying that blind side of his face and those mistakes of the past within the nearest comfort whenever available.
And tonight, instead of just another cold empty bed and overstuffed pillows alone, that actually meant the safety of the nape of your neck as he breathed in your scent and warmth.
Everything he did still had its own purpose though. Even as entirely uncomfortable as it’d been to let you see him laid bare this soon, he knew he was correct to have made this choice.
Because it was already so obvious in the way you’d touched his face and spoken to him so sincerely after…you were already forgetting how easily that switch within him could still flip.
If he used tenderness as a tool to get his way, it didn’t erase anything else that he was still so capable of. This beast would still bite you, even as an injured one now experiencing your rare kindness.
Especially an an injured one actually when faced with your weakness of affection.
Because no amount of kisses, soft touches, or pretty words could make his pain any less real. Or dampen his inner fear of ever experiencing that level of helplessness again that he had once been dealt from your kind.
If you did sleep beside him enough nights to find out, you’d discover him sweating and thrashing in his sleep eventually. Reliving the ropes cutting into his wrists, the fire at his feet, and the smoke in his lungs as he’d screamed at those vermin. Screamed and threatened to destroy everything and everyone even as their arrows finally hit their mark.
He’d made good on some of those promises too in recent years. But it would never be enough. That rage could never be fully quenched, his suffering from it never lessened.
That pain could only be paused perhaps, or briefly redirected. In the instances where he was receiving something that he also wanted so thoroughly.
He wanted to hold you. He wanted to fuck you. He wanted to fight you. And he wanted to keep you.
His mind had run endless with plans and strategies to do this very thing for so long now. But he absolutely had to seal the deal soon to make this permanent.
Because the only thing he was certain of when it came to these conflicting emotions was that no one else could be allowed to truly claim you again.
As his long body shifted once more, nestling even further against you at every meeting point that he could, his hand still tightened slightly on your lower abdomen.
That was one option he was still considering.
He hadn’t forgotten the crazy things you’d made him say in Sabaody. He’d been so angry with you that day. Likening you to nothing better than livestock for him to shame, abuse, and even impregnate however he’d see fit.
It was still very much a cheat too if he chose to use that. Because as highly as he regarded his own twisted, mother and son like relationship with Tsuru, it also made him not see a chain in this world stronger than that between mothers and their spawn.
No matter what you said or eventually promised him now, he knew you may still try to fly away from him one day. But if there was a child…then no matter where or how far you may wish to run, you would always return right back to any nest he’d made for you. You would do so without hesitation if your chick was the one within his grasp instead. If it was crying out in fear for your protection.
And the immorality of such ideas was not even a concept worth considering. Because of course he could do whatever he wished with his own future blood, or with you, his own desired mate.
It was just the logistics of achieving such a thing.
When his servants had searched your bag earlier, he could have had them throw out those stupid birth control pills of yours then and there.
But you’d just get more as soon as you were back on any marine ship. He knew that. So the fight that would have been with you hadn’t been worth the annoyance to him right now.
Not for such a low chance of making a difference in just three days time anyway.
But he was definitely keeping an eye on that potential. If it really came down to it, he knew other chemicals existed. Things that nullified those pills which could easily be slipped into drinks for instance.
Caesar alone had a treasure trove of old Germa 66 data that’d been stolen. Forced fertility was hardly a complicated affair in all the greater horrors Vinsmoke Judge had committed to his own bloodline.
The reminder to Doflamingo that he had no blood family, outside of the more distant ones that he’d gladly kill if they ever set foot beyond their gilded gates in Mariejois, was a bittersweet one though.
If you really could give him that family back one day, he would absolutely use both you and that child to help with the void those last executions had still left him with. It would be something to finally have the Heart seat filled again too of course like he’d considered before. Doflamingo had lost his heart in more ways than one back then.
———————————
“Doffy.” You said quietly, just this surreal scene something your mind was still trying to accept as you felt his breath warm and soft against your neck in the new light of day.
Well, the dim light of day. The curtains were not pulled shut. But the sky was overcast, gloomy almost.
The perfect morning to never move at all really.
With a sleeping monster coiled all around you, like you were some shiny pebble he’d never let go of again.
But this pebble needed to pee.
Quite badly, with a smaller bladder than him, and all that wine still filtering into it. Something expensive and vintage you couldn’t even properly pronounce, but it’d been that or nothing as thirsty as you’d been last night. As sweaty as you’d been as you’d climbed that pirate as if you’d never see a man again.
Over and over, but somehow you’d still survived him.
If there had been blood again, it’d only been specks. Mostly under his fingernails or yours. And he’d liked it every time. Every claw mark, every bruise and bite. He’d wanted to give as much as receive.
But he was about to receive something worse if he didn’t release you soon.
“I need to pee.” You said a little more insistently. Trying to slide out from between his arms, and those even longer legs wrapped so tightly around you.
But you felt his face press into you even harder. Even that short blond hair now messy, mussed against your skin.
His calves slid against you, warm and tight as a new sound finally greeted your ear.
“….and if I say no?”
His voice was dark, but so thick with sleep still. There was a large hand running down your side again.
“Then I piss on your skinny bird legs.” You threatened.
He made an indistinguishable sound at that, but you felt his lips upturn against your spine.
“Filthy animal.” And now that same hand had moved to enclose on your wrist.
He’d been like this some last night too anytime you’d needed to leave the bed. But he’d been much easier to fight when worn down from all the fucking.
This was now a Doflamingo with a few hours of sleep back in him.
But you still didn’t have the time, deciding to take that challenge. Pulling up your legs so quickly that he couldn’t catch them with his own.
You put the soles of your feet against that hard abdomen of his next as you pushed for all you were worth. Only the strength of one of his hands now pitted against the force of both of your legs.
He cursed at the pain that made for him, and when he twisted his body, your foot nearly slipped down between his legs. Not intentionally on your part, but you and he both realized how close you’d come to annihilating him right in the balls this early in the morning.
He released you immediately too then. And you hadn’t been ready for that, crashing right off the bed with most of the blankets as you’d still been trying to pull away from him.
Yet you jumped right back up, though with the bedsheet cascading off of your hip as you thought he might be coming after you to continue the struggle.
But he was only staring at you. Still laying there on the bed where your fall had fully uncovered him. Like some kind of nude adonis in annoyed repose.
You straightened up at the sight, nude as well and trying not to feel that flush of heat within you all over again.
And he said nothing, but you felt his gaze on you all the way until you’d made it into the bathroom and closed the door for privacy.
But then that was actually worse. Again, just like the night before, not being able to see him meant he could be moving anywhere, doing anything. The same way that snakes and spiders didn’t bother you as long as you could see them. But it was an entirely different matter once they disappeared.
You were trying to listen for any footfalls even as you flushed the toilet and briefly washed your hands over the sink.
But there was nothing and you had opened the door again soon enough.
You saw he had indeed moved, but only to pull the blanket back off of the floor and onto his body. Only his shoulders and head were exposed now. He had the left side of his face buried against the mattress as well in the absence of you. His right eye still watching you, but through a half lidded gaze.
Still that tired then? Poor thing, you thought sardonically.
Yet this was also your chance to get something else done as you tried not to make a big show of grabbing one of the now empty wine glasses off of the dresser. The drinking had started on the balcony with dinner last night, and then moved back inside as he’d herded you into the bed and beneath him once more all those hours ago.
You were absolutely still sore too as you kneeled down by your duffel bag. You unzipped it quietly, just enough to slide your hand in and pop one of your birth control pills out of the foil packet buried within your clothes.
In one smooth movement, you’d slipped the pill into your mouth and stood again. Just walking back to the bathroom to fill the wine glass with enough water from the sink to wash the pill down as you’d swallowed.
“You really are a fucking animal.” His voice cut through rather loudly right as you’d tilted your head back.
You about spit the water out at the sudden gruff voice, glaring back at him through the open bathroom door for startling you.
But the pill did make it down your throat as you’d walked back out.
“What’s your problem? Go back to sleep, pirate!” You fussed, heart rate up now as that’d been so unexpected in the otherwise silence of the dimly lit room.
You left the wine glass back on the dresser as you approached the bed again however.
And that crimson red iris of his right eye was locked in on you, even as he opened the blanket and quickly pulled you back against him once you were close enough.
His grip was stronger than minutes before, painful this time as you felt his cock, already half hard again against your back.
But he didn’t use it right now, just growling a little in your ear. “The problem is that we don’t drink from bathroom sinks, you little savage. If you want water, you ring the help to bring you some. Ice water filtered into a pitcher, not bathroom water from the same room that we shit in…got it?”
And then he was forcing you to turn around again, to face him in the bed before he tightened the blanket back around you both.
Your eyebrows were lowered, knowing he was actually serious but not at all understanding why this was suddenly such a trigger. Why was he so goddamned weird? He’d literally licked his own cum off of your face last night. But drinking from the sink was taboo?
“Yes, Doffy.” You muttered anyway. Intuitive enough to realize that that was also what he wanted to hear.
But he huffed a little regardless. His eye still on yours as he answered. “Watch the bratty tone. I’ll housebreak you yet, little cur.”
And even with the dark clouds outside, enough sunlight was filtering in to start to lose your focus by watching his face again.
He really did have expressive eyes when they weren’t hidden.
So even as much of an asshole as he was already being to you just minutes after waking, you did find yourself touching his face again soon enough.
And him allowing it as well despite that previous condescending talk while he turned his head so that both his eyes could be seen now. His cheek was against your hand as he still watched you.
“What now, love?” He asked abruptly then.
Just like that his tone was different again with your touch. But it felt intentional too. You weren’t as naive as he may think.
Like it was still all a game somehow. From cold to warm, then sweet back to sour again, dangling the lure in front of you, then pulling it away again to try and make you drop your guard.
But he was willing to keep it going even if you weren’t falling for this constant switching back and forth fully yet.
“No, I can’t see out of my left eye if that’s what you’re pondering.” He actually offered without being asked though while you’d watched each other. “Nothing there but shadow and flares of light that bring on the worst migraines anyway. But that left eye was always sensitive to light. Even from birth.”
Well, then he was suited to being some kind of venomous creature living under a rock after all wasn’t he? But he was clearly trying for your sympathy again too.
And he did scowl a little then, that cloudy eye narrowing in tandem with the other. You still weren’t taking the bait to empathize with him as easily as last night he likely realized. Your hormones and desire for him more under control now….mostly.
“But this is obviously a secret you’re now obligated to keep as well, love.” He warned instead. “Being a half blind warlord doesn’t pack quite as much of a threat now does it?”
“I’d bet it just makes you that much meaner actually.” You quipped in return.
His scowl upturned a bit there, a smirk beginning as he didn’t entirely disagree. “Sometimes.”
And really, you would have been fine to leave each other alone from there. An armistice to just lay in Doflamingo’s arms as a lazy morning like you hadn’t had from anyone in much too long.
With Kuzan the last time…and you supposed it really had to be the last time now, he’d been too drunk. Rolling away from you even hours before it was already time to be back up and in uniform.
And with Smoker, even before the breakup he’d been away from you for months. Your last physical time together, actually having been only a quickie in the bathroom of a damned bar. Just a port town both your ships had been in at the same time.
Hardly romantic as you’d been bitching at him not to get ashes in your hair as he’d hiked up your skirt from behind and still not put out those fucking cigars regardless. Thrusting into you just long enough for him to cum, and then he’d been done.
No talk of missing you. No lingering kiss or hold at all. Just a man who’d been alone on a boat for too long and needed something to put it in.
You really should have realized his waning interest in you sooner. You and Smoker hadn’t been much more than friends with benefits by the end, had you? And apparently even that had been too much for him to maintain.
It still pissed you off really. How quickly Smoker had just turned and cut you out when you’d thought it had been more than just sex.
“The fuck are you thinking about now?” Doflamingo interrupted as your eyes flitted back to him in surprise.
Had you been showing that past regret on your face? Hell.
And the pirate was indeed watching you with full judgement.
“It’s just been a while since I’ve gotten to stay with anyone. I don’t know.” You certainly tried to stay non specific there. You couldn’t think of any quicker way to violence than to confess to Donquixote Doflamingo of thinking of another man while in his bed beside him.
But thankfully, he didn’t press this time. Seemingly a bit more interested in the handful of your ass that he was then cupping.
“Well you didn’t slit my throat in my sleep. So I suppose I’ll let you stay again tonight…” He taunted a little, but still sounding somewhat lazy as you remained in his grip.
“Because I’m a sailor, not an assassin.” You replied though, a bit offended at that insinuation before you could even help it.
And he did grin again then. “Oh, I’m well aware. Tsuru’s little protege. You two and your pitiful ethics. But…that predictable nature of yours makes this rare privilege possible for you. You think I’d let a fellow pirate curl up to me like this?”
And there was a look in his eye then that absolutely said he was referring to someone specifically as his words kept on. “My peers may know how to fuck well enough, but we’d kill each other sooner than touch again after the copulating was done. Too much ego between us to make it even one night without murderous intent rearing up.”
“Hate fucking you mean?” You asked, and you didn’t know why you were encouraging him. He’d talk about these crazy things and you’d just start to answer sometimes.
“Exactly! All lust, no trust.” And he did seem amused, both at your response and his own little rhyme there.
“But tell me, marine.” And now those wandering fingers were roaming your inner thighs as his eye looked more curious. “What would you really call this instead? You and I?”
And your nervousness was back. His focus so fully on you then.
“I don’t know.” You said honestly.
“Let’s think about that then.” He said, and you were seeing more of his teeth. That smile that never resembled anything close to friendly.
“Did you like it when I walked you around in public yesterday?” He asked next. “…when I called you my woman in front of those scurrying mice at the store?”
And his voice was dropping too. His fingers gripping you harder in tandem.
“It made you wet didn’t it?” He breathed through that cruel smile. “Because you want so badly to belong to someone.”
Which, that tone only made you think that he must finally be awake enough to start feeling amorous all over again. But those devilish eyes were still thinking, considering deeper things once more.
“I liked the way it felt too.” He said abruptly. “I’ve been thinking of what it’d be like to have you to come back to each night…”
Your lips couldn’t help but part a little again at that when his thumb ran across them. Yet he kept talking, kept suggesting.
“You’re already a captain after all. I’ve no doubt that the rank of commodore will soon follow. And you’ll have your own ship and crew by then, won’t you darling?”
His face had moved in closer to you again then, lips ghosting along your jawline. Hungry little bites made along it, urging you to tilt your head back as he finished his thought. “You do realize that that ship will have to have Dressrosa as its home port, don’t you? I don’t think I’ll be able to accept anything less now…”
Of course you made a sound somewhere between disbelief and disagreement at those new words. But he didn’t care. His tongue was running wet across your pulse point before he bit down abruptly.
And the palm of your hand was against his cheek just as fast to push him off.
You felt his resulting laugh more than you heard it before he did pull back. Yet only enough for him to outright lick your still open palm.
Which earned another look of equal surprise and bewilderment from you as you tried to wipe that spit back away immediately onto the bedding.
“And how the hell would that work?” You did ask irritably though, still clearly flustered by his new ideas. “There’s no marine base in Dressrosa. A home port is where the crew members’ families live. Where we stay between assignments and resupply, and-”
“Yes, it’d be the perfect country for raising a family, wouldn’t it?” His voice was so smooth again at that, unnerving almost as it caught you a little further off guard.
He was stroking you idly again too, down your side and over your hip. “Your subordinates would be kissing your feet to get to live in the comparative paradise of Dressrosan casitas instead of those utilitarian marine barracks they’d find everywhere else.”
“It takes a lot of crew to fully man one of our ships.” You didn’t know why your body was trying to tense again at this subject. Or why you were trying to fight illogical emotions with logical words at all. “That’s not an amount of housing that can just pop up overnight.”
“I’m their fucking king…we’ll designate whatever space I say to. And it’d all be free obviously. Your miserly accountants at HQ could never say no to that.”
“Nothing is free.” You quickly replied.
And Doflamingo did smile again there. Like a magician conceding that his current audience was more cynical than most. You were still seeing some truth even behind the attractive show.
“Well…you’d be the real payment of course.” He murmured, beginning to look a bit more hungry again.
“Funny.” You tried to deflect.
“I’m serious.” He contended. And you could feel his hips shift, a rather hard something now poking against your stomach yet again.
“You actually want me to live in Dressrosa?” It felt like a last ditch effort to try snd show him how insane those words really could sound when strung together.
“Oh no, love. That alone wouldn’t be enough.” And he’d moved again so that long cock of his was now sliding back and forth against your abdomen.
And you looked at him in some confusion. All the while seeing that lust begin to bud all over again in his handsome face.
“Your crew would live in Dressrosa. But you would live in my palace. In my bed. Just like this.”
And he flung the blankets back with those words, before he’d rolled the two of you so that you were fully beneath him once more.
You could see how flushed with blood that throbbing cock already was then, an enlarged vein running beneath it as he’d pulled that lube bottle back into his hand via string.
“Every morning while your ship was in port, woman. This could be us.” He promised even as he was then stroking that lube back over his shaft and the broad head of it. “You could set sail and go ruin as many other pirates as you’d wish…crush my competitors. And then come home, back to me at the end of each voyage. Back to your king.”
You heard that resealed lube bottle clank against the nightstand as he hadn’t even had the patience to set it back down. Him just tossing it before he grabbed you behind the knees and spread your legs while lifting them up simultaneously.
Your ankles were in the air and then pressed against his torso before he shoved that wet cock back inside of you.
It was always painful. And always amazing too as you saw him smile down at your pitiful expression. Just a woman hopelessly conquered, aroused, and desperate all at once for this ruthless man.
You didn’t care about a future that had yet to be. Whatever schemes and plans he had for you…there was no point of being afraid of what wasn’t yet here.
This stretching and heat and need were what was real. Just blooming all over again and pushing everything else from your mind as you finally found the way to beg.
“Fuck me, Doffy….please.” You whined when he’d yet to begin thrusting at all after that first penetration.
He’d been too busy watching you writhe as you’d stretched for him once more.
And the growl that came from him in return to your plea was nothing short of hedonistic. “Of course. Of fucking course, love. Open up and take me…on two conditions.”
You tried to focus, but even as those damnable eyes of his bid you to heed him, his thumb was now pressing over your clit simultaneously. He rubbed it so perfectly as he tightened that metaphorical snare all at once.
Every prior word, every prior action…he’d been waiting for you to succumb like this.
“I’ll be yours, woman. I’ll even let you come and go from my country. Let you continue with that ‘ambitious justice’ that you’ve so claimed.” The sneer on his face at your particular notion of justice made clear how arbitrary and futile he found the term however.
He did begin to slowly thrust his cock in and out of you too then, dragging it almost to extend each and every tease to all those heated nerve endings inside. “But no one else may have your body this way…not without my full consent. No one.”
His finger was still massaging your clit incessantly with each new word, but not letting your own hips buck up into him as they so badly wanted to. He only pinned you even harder into the mattress, almost impatient for you to comply as he gave the final rule.
“And you will always return home to me.” There was no smile then. This was absolutely all or none. “Your only true home will be wherever I am.”
And for the very first time, you may have preferred the red glasses to have been back on his face to cover him. Because that look in his eyes was abruptly unforgiving. But…especially in the wounded left eye actually.
He’d admitted that eye had always been abnormal and sensitive from birth. Even from before whatever incident had later blinded it.
But only in the daylight, and only with it focused on you that dangerously could you now see that larger iris’ outline in full. Its original deep red hazed over to almost a pink beneath the white scar tissue.
And something inside that blinded eye was fully primal. Mad. It was separate of the rest of him in a way you couldn’t explain in that moment. You were afraid of it.
“Doffy…” You tried to call him back to you.
“Swear to me.” He hissed just as quickly though. That pressure from his hand on your clit becoming painful.
He was absolutely hurting you now. Your body caught under his weight as well as he stayed buried as deeply inside of you as he could go. The head of him was pressed hard against your cervix yet again.
You were cornered and you knew it. And even as frightening as that could suddenly be, it didn’t kill your desire for him.
He was absolutely a monster.
But he was still the only thing you kept thinking about. The only one you kept needing. You’d keep coming back to him anyway, as stupid as you were, wouldn’t you? Because everyone else kept throwing you away when you’d tried to do better.
You’d tried to fall in love with marines, and felt like a ship smashed against the rocks both times. Wouldn’t it be insane of you to just keep chasing that same honorable kind of man like Kuzan or Smoker, only to find that you weren’t an honorable enough woman for either of them to ever keep?
“Then what would I be to you?” You pleaded within the pain. Your clit stinging, your cervix aching. “Just your mistress? Your concubine?” Your eyes were starting to sting too. Were you no better than your own brothel working mother in the end? The most you’d ever have in lieu of actual love was just the sexual fixations of a dangerous man?
Yet he spoke these new words into existence and everything else went silent.
“You would be my wife.”
You weren’t breathing, the bed wasn’t creaking. Every muscle on you both was frozen. Just his unnatural eyes staring into yours.
“You can’t mean that.” Your brain felt utterly useless now. Any words just reflex, completely helpless and defeated really.
“Waiting any longer is only for the indecisive. Once I know what I want…why would I leave it for anyone else to take?” And the tone had changed yet again. His thumb was now moving only in gentle circles on your clit once more.
You spread your legs a little more in reflex. Your goddamned body so confused.
“Say yes.” He insisted still though, even as he started to pump his hips again.
All the pain in you was being covered up again by the pleasure he now allowed.
You had no choice. You knew you’d be absolutely mauled if you denied him now. Even with every haki trick you had, you may not even make it out alive from this room, as passionate as he clearly was on having your submission.
So you nodded, feeling like you’d just ceded a piece of your own soul to the being above you. “I accept.”
“No. Swear to me instead.” Those same words came again in immediate reply. But this time was different. There was that very faintest hint of anxiety in the Heavenly Demon’s voice. Like a fisherman seeing the catch of his life teetering on that edge of either fully entering or escaping the net.
“I swear, Doflamingo. I’ll have no one else, and I’ll return to you after every voyage. I’ll even be your wife if I can still remain a marine.”
And were you crazy for still trying to add your own stipulation at the end there?
Yes, of course you were. But you’d seen the way he was hanging on your every word then. Your heart had still had that touch of bravery left to rise at the final moment.
And it worked. You saw his smile instantly reform. But it seemed involuntary, disbelieving almost, and entirely nervous on his face. “You can still be both. I have pull higher than even Sengoku…they can’t terminate you. Can’t demote you. You can be the first royal of modern times still in active service…”
And he was starting to laugh too. He didn’t know what to do with himself as it really began to sink in.
“My queen…” he purred, his hips picking up the pace as the bed started creaking once more. “A warrior queen of the sea at that…fuck, it’s going to be so goddamned fun.”
And he was grinding your g-spot for all he was worth soon enough. Having you moaning for him as he reveled in this sudden and wholly unexpected victory.
You couldn’t think about it much more though. Not as your toes curled and your back arched beneath the now gleeful devil.
It was utterly insane. Him, you, all of it. There was just nothing else that could be done in this moment to save either of you.
———————————
The rest of the daylight hours had been a haze of more fucking, more alcohol, more just being together frankly. Lazing around that beautiful villa together with no one to disturb you. You’d never seen Doflamingo in such a good mood.
At some point you finally had gotten into the shower together though. Which had resulted in more games in the hot steam. You’d gotten pinned against that lovely tile mosaic in the bathroom as he’d actually gotten on his knees to eat you out. Like a starving man who’d never have or want anything else.
It was a hell of a day.
But by the time the sun had set again, you felt like he was missing the attention of everyone else too. He wanted to show you off and parade the both of you to the envy of the other elites.
He wanted to go to the carnival ball.
And what were you supposed to do but entertain him? He had been almost kind to you ever since your agreement this morning. You knew it couldn’t last. Something was bound to set him off again.
But until then, you could do your best to enjoy this rather affectionate warlord that he was currently being.
So you went with him. In the dress he chose for you, in the shoes he chose for you. Your arm around his as you’d gone back out onto the gaslit streets together.
The carnival masks were back on as well. His red one, and your black one. He was in a different suit tonight though. A red one with a black under vest and shirt.
It reminded you even more of the one he’d used to favor in the North Blue. But it was a bit more modern cut, a slightly different shade.
And still you caught yourself staring at him at times. The way he carried himself, the way he smirked at you as he always had to stay in some form of physical contact with you.
He was right in the way you loved the attention. But was he right to say that you did wish to belong to someone?
It looked like you were going to find out. Unless he got tired of you before he went through with this whole Dressrosa as your home port plan.
Gods, you still had no idea what to really think, or how any of it could even work. So you kept trying to live in the moment at least as you’d ended up in the biggest ballroom you’d ever seen.
Royalty and nobility were all around while musicians in tuxedos played more songs Doflamingo knew and you did not.
“Who taught you how to dance anyway?” You had finally asked him as he lead you in another slow spin. Him somehow keeping time to the music even better than all the other couples you were trying to imitate around you.
You weren’t as clumsy as you’d been in the street the day before at least. But it was still far from intuitive to you, though you were trying.
“My mother taught me.” He answered, no real hesitation either that time.
But the way his mouth was downturned slightly, you were quite certain that woman was also no longer alive. Though you supposed rarely would anyone with a loving family feel a need to set out on a life of crime anyway.
You certainly hadn’t had a real maternal figure until you’d met Tsuru. Your own mother had been far too young, and just trying to survive herself. There’d been no room for you really.
“She sounds interesting. Swan owner, dancer…” You dared to continue that topic though. Hoping maybe his good mood was still enough to allow you to pry into him a little more.
After all you’d promised him this morning, that seemed more than fair to know a bit more about the man you’d just tied yourself to.
But then again, this particular man was hardly known for his fairness.
Yet with your hand tightly in his as the violins continued, he did reply. With more than expected actually. “No. She wasn’t interesting at all really. Quiet. Submissive. Wholly fragile and quickly gone…” But the somber tone in his voice still belied more regret than just those plain words. “Like taking a rose from a greenhouse and expecting it to survive in the mud outside with the weeds. Of course she couldn’t do it. She passed away when I was eight.”
Saying sorry would be too pointless. You hated useless platitudes like that. So you wouldn’t do it yourself.
“Was that still in the North Blue then? Is that your home sea?” You asked carefully instead. It should have been a harmless, neutral question really.
But you saw Doflamingo’s chest move as he took in a larger breath.
“I know you’ll figure it out eventually…and yet, we’re having a nice night aren’t we? It’s been an excellent day actually. Is this really what you want to know right now, love?”
And of course you couldn’t understand the change from such a simple question as the opaque lenses in that carnival mask were then looking down from above you.
When the current song ended, he’d led you back away from the dance floor as well.
There were small circular tables all over with flowing table cloths. Wait staff moved effortlessly between them, taking food and drink orders from whoever may wave them down.
“Let’s get something to eat and perhaps we can talk a bit more.” He said as his hand moved against the small of your back, guiding you to a table of his choice.
He still wasn’t angry, just guarded.
But you’d already seen his real face now. And you knew what kind of cutthroat pirate he’d been and still was. What else of his past could be that important to him?
And you did let him do the ordering as soon as a waiter had indeed rushed up. Doflamingo was always going to take charge regardless you were finding. Picking your clothes, picking your food too…
You didn’t care right now, though you should have. It was just more control of course. Even as much as you’d already given him of yourself today.
But food was food in this moment. You’d barely eaten today with all the other in bed activities. So you just idly surveyed the room while the waiter explained the current entrees and the chef’s recommended wine pairings to your warlord date.
It was an old habit of yours maybe. Situational awareness and an idea of who was where, where the exits were, plus the general mood and threat level at any given time when working with a crowd.
Yet here was just a lot of fluff and self serving people putting on displays for one another really. You’d even clocked the father and sons you’d first escorted to this island. They hadn’t recognized you of course. How could they have when they’d never even looked you in the face when on Momonga’s ship? You hadn’t been worth it to them.
The youngest son had spilled wine on his date somehow. She was having a fit, and the father was stepping in with heaps of apologies. She must have been even richer than them then. The fact that there were hierarchies within hierarchies for these people just made it seem all the dumber.
Such a waste of energy. And you were about to give up watching any of them, bored in their manufactured drama and flamboyance before something else caught your attention.
A group of people were moving against the general grain of everyone else. Stiff and organized, something you recognized immediately as tactical. Two in front, two in back, and one on each side.
You stretched to see better, past the socialites and their petty conversations.
That group was moving someone in the center of their formation. A young girl actually, certainly no more than ten or so. Her blue ponytail was swishing side to side, even with her body so tense. Her shoulders were hunched defensively as she was being pushed forward with one of the men’s hands clamped down onto her shoulder from behind.
You could see the silent tears in wet streaks down that girl’s face. That terror in her eyes that you’d seen so many times before. You knew exactly the kind of thing that must be happening, even if no one else did as you immediately stood.
——————————
Doflamingo had just been committing to the fiorentina steak dish and a polenta entree as well for the two of you to sample together when he’d seen you stand.
Belatedly noticed because you’d been on his left. But that spoke of his already increasing trust in you really, letting you guard his blind side even subconsciously. How he’d often keep his officers to his left whenever seated.
Yet that didn’t mean he expected you to actually do anything from that position. He tried to grab your wrist as you’d moved forward. Seeing that tenseness in your body immediately and not understanding it a bit before you’d dodged his touch easily.
The waiter was just as confused and in the way really as Doflamingo stood fully as well. He moved his fingers, ready to stop you if he had to.
“Where the hell are you-“ He started to demand you to explain.
“No time. Stay. I’ll be back.” You said so quickly though. So different and commanding. Before one slightly softer note of, “I promise. I’ll be back.”
And you didn’t even look at him before you’d disappeared, almost in a run then into the crowd. Him left standing at the table, inexplicably hesitating.
You’d told him to do something and he’d actually listened.
He was as dumbfounded as the waiter who now excused themselves just to say they were going to put his order in.
But they didn’t get far.
No one did before the first gunshots rang out.
———————————
T⨂ BE
CONTINUED
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Thanks for reading!
#doflamingo x reader#doflamingo x y/n#doflamingo x you#doffy x reader#doffy x you#doffy x y/n#one piece smut#one piece reader insert#one piece x reader#one piece x y/n#one piece x you#one piece fanfiction#one piece doflamingo#op doflamingo#doflamingo#donquixote doflamingo#doflamingo one piece#doffy#doffy one piece#doflamingo’s marine
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can i be honest? im a fan of azul but his dream felt like it lacked impact. there were some very interesting moments and its better than the prediction that he would already be rich and own the world
like really? azul becomes a famous athlete and bullies others, then he takes over night raven? i feel like his struggles with his own identity and food could have been further explored and he is based off of ursula, which should extend to vanessa, right? it was the perfect reason to give him a total makeover and show that he has to be comfortable in his own skin before anything else, even if his other ness was what made him a target of bullying in the first place
your thoughts and worries on book 7 post has affected my perspective and i cant help but feel like something is missing 🥲 maybe all the budget went into Jade and Floyd?
[Referencing this post!]
As I’ve previously expressed, I have a lot of my own complicated feelings about the direction book 7 is taking, specifically with how the OB boys’ dream segments are presented and resolved. Azul’s dream is no different; it felt very contrived due to the formula TWST insists on running with in every new installment. It’s becoming even more apparent with each update, and it is really grating on me.
But!! Before I get to what I believe are shortcomings with Azul’s dream, let’s review what Anon has to say.
I feel like, no matter what, there will always be people claiming that the OB boys’ dreams are “missed opportunities”. This is simply because these characters have much more deep and complex issues than the rest of the cast, so we will naturally scrutinize them more. TWST is basically only able to go with one angle when they tackle the dream, leaving the other threads unexplored. This will surely annoy or disappoint people who wish that TWST would have addressed a different issue instead, or perhaps something closer to their personal interpretation of the events. In Azul’s case, I feel like some people (particularly in the west, not so much in the east) see Azul’s weight concerns or relationship with food as a prominent part of his character, so they wish that book 7 part 10 had looked into that more. However, that was never a big focus in canon, so it follows that TWST would want to dedicate its time and resources to the most pressing thing (which would be more centered on Azul’s general self-confidence, greed, and how those tie into his sense of identity). At the same time, they probably wanted to avoid a lens that is too broad. Having the focus be on Azul’s “otherness” or being an octopus might veer too heavily into something way beyond the scope of the ~10 parts of the story he has to himself.
We also need to consider that these dreams are meant to be shallow interpretations of what the dreamer desires (according to Idia). Only the OB boys get to go more in depth due to bring dragged down into deeper layers of their dreams. Azul wants to be accepted by his peers and is insecure about his lack of athleticism (as one reason why he was bullied was due to not being able to swim as fast as other merchildren). So of course the surface level of his dream makes him a star athlete beloved by all. The whole “his plan succeeds, he steals everyone’s magic, he takes over NRC” thing happens in the second layer of his dream, which, like all previous OB boys, is a dark display of what would have happened had they not been stopped. And finally, Azul being a bully is nothing new—we saw this behavior back in book 3 as well. He became the very thing he despised back when he was a victim, and now he continues to perpetuate that cycle of bullying in an effort to affirm confidence in his “cool” new identity. I think the dream was very intentional in trying to entice him with the promises of power and acceptance. That, in turn, shows us that the desire to be a successful businessman (the thing many of us thought would be his dream) actually hinges on Azul’s longing to be accepted. His struggle with his identity and how it depends on how others perceive him was portrayed. I’m just not sure if the idea was executed in the best way, since it sounds like the message may have gotten muddled along the way and it definitely requires some reading between the lines.
I noticed that you cited my original post where I detailed my concerns about book 7 and how that has influenced your own thoughts 💦 I hope that it just… informed or supplemented your opinions rather than suddenly altered them to be more “in line” with my own. I never want to be the kind of person who claims their interpretations are the “most correct” I’m not Riddle’s mom, okay?? 😭
About Jade and Floyd’s dreams, I feel like those are less heavily critiqued because they, by virtue of not being an OB boy, have fewer stakes and are predominantly there to be silly. It’s like contrasting Epel wanting to be big and buff to Vil literally murdering Neige; there is just no comparison. Even then, I wouldn’t necessarily say Floyd’s and Jade’s parts received “all the budget”… They seemed like pretty basic storylines to me, perhaps dressed up slightly better thanks to the new undersea assets and bioluminescence reveal.
My issues with Azul’s dream segment is how… ham-fisted several elements were. All of it, for the sake of sticking to the pattern already established earlier. It feels so unnatural and stilted because you just KNOW it’s written this way to fit the template 😔 For example:
Why did Jade become SO dumb when they were trying to figure out where Azul had moved the contracts? He’s supposed to be much smarter than how he is presented here. Wouldn’t his immediate thought be to check Azul’s room? But NO, Jade can’t come to that conclusion on his own because we need a contrived reason for each student to use their UM before the ending :/ so Jade has to waste time using his UM to get the truth out of his dream!self.
Jade and Floyd sitting around and going “………….” while they watch Azul make an ass of himself was such a time waster. Clearly you have enough brains to know what would trigger him, so why are you not acting on it???? Oh yeah, because we need to show more cool stuff in this dream like La Grotta!
Azul literally turns to the camera and tells his OB self, “Unlike you, I’ve changed.” It’s way too on the nose with what it’s trying to communicate. It breaks immersion and makes it so obvious the characters are outright stating their character development to make sure we all “get it”.
What was the purpose of Azul using his UM to get the mermobs to sign a contract to give all their power to him???💀 Bro can just say “excuse me, I forgot something back at the Coral Rush field” and they’d probably let him pass. But again, Azul isn’t allowed to do that because he MUST use his UM before the ending. Because Azul’s UM requires that another person willingly agree and sign a contract, his mandatory UM use before the grand finale feels particularly forced.
How many times do I need to listen to Idia/Ortho or other characters warn us about how we can’t have too many people dream hopping or else bugs might happen or Malleus might notice… It’s almost like the devs realize how long this is being dragged out for so they have to remind us every so often.
Not only that, but we get such poorly constructed explanations to keep characters behind while a new character goes with the main group. Why don’t you just leave them all behind once they’re awake then?? Oh yeah, because we NEED to drag along the current student into the next dream so everyone gets a cameo. It’s so inorganic how the characters are chosen to stay behind, Jamil just conveniently volunteers himself while we also listen to another spiel from Silver and Sebek about how their training makes them more stable than the twins to keep dream hopping.
I would actually consider Azul’s dream… serviceable? Like it isn’t fantastic or anything but for what it is, it works. It’s cohesive enough. But god, did I dislike how rigid it was… Nothing happens because it’s natural, it happens because the script demands it happens. To quote another post:
If anyone has played the first Ace Attorney game, this feels a LOT like that part in case 2 where Phoenix is too dumb to check the back of a receipt until Mia literally tells him to. The [characters have] to actively be made stupider because the scenario calls for it, and that really rubs me the wrong way.
#twisted wonderland#twst#Jade Leech#Floyd Leech#Azul Ashengrotto#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#book 7 part 10 spoilers#Octavinelle#tweels#notes from the writing raven#question
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ok i was cooking up another hong lu analysis thing bc i noticed SEVERAL things in his base id art the other day and wanted to share with the class but they just dropped a new one in the canto V trailer and i have some stuff i wanna talk about that one:)
My Hong Lu knowledge and interpretation is very heavily influenced by reading Dream of the Red Chamber, which may not be the best because I don’t know how much Limbus will pull from the book because it’s Long as fuck but I think it’s given me a deeper knowledge of Hong Lu.
Keep in mind this ego is NOT out yet so i could be totally off base depending on what the full animation/corrosion/sin affinities are like and this is totally theorizing but I wanted to have a go at anyway!! And this got totally out of hand so reading is appreciated :)
One of the first things I noticed here is this Hong Lu seems VERY Bao-yu. We still don’t know for sure what Hong Lu is within the context of Red Chamber (i don’t think it’ll be straightforward considering how that book works) but it’s important to note!
He has this little hat on (this is the best pic i can get atm to show it’s not a fancy hair tie, unfortunately the footage we have rn is a little scuffed)
and Bao-yu is ALWAYS depicted with a hat like this.
This could just be because that’s the appropriate outfit for Chinese nobility (I unfortunately have little to no reference point here, feel free to correct me, but from some quick searches hats aren’t ubiquitous and ESPECIALLY not ones of this style.) I think it’s worth noting because it comes up in nearly all modern depictions of Bao-yu.
There’s also the pearl Hong Lu is wearing on his neck/chest area, which is where Bao-yu wears the magic jade he was born with. His jade is translated into Limbus as Hong Lu’s jade eye, but this plus his hat and the abno’s themes REALLY makes me think we are dealing with some Bao-Yu stuff here.
Speaking of the Abno’s themes, now i can actually go over them! All we have for Walking Pearl right now is the MD event (as well as general observation), but there’s a few things that are relevant.
Just based off design, the abnormality seems to be mostly about the precious (the pearl) and the filth (the muck) intermixing. which makes sense with the EGO being named “Effervescent Corrosion” and our holders being Hong Lu and Rodya.
There’s some symbolism around greed/wealth (the offspring filled muck desiring the pearl and fighting for which one will earn it? the muck tarnishing the pearl? ) and I think we should read into that because it’s Hong Lu and Rodya who have this one and they’re both very tied to their financial status. Those two sharing an ego makes me insane for a bunch of reasons but that’s probably for another analysis piece! But duality is REALLY important for those guys and that’s a theme they’re emphasizing here with both the pearl and muck within the clam.
There’s also some elements of shelter/protection/potentially entrapment with the clam’s shell which are HUGE for Hong Lu, especially with his egos so I think those may come up.
But mostly it’s about the mixing of the precious (likely “wealth” here) and the unsavory, which works very well with what we know of the Jia family. The design likely referencing Bao-yu and thematically dealing with the Jia family makes me think each of those individual readings are more likely because they’re deeply tied together!
And now onto the MD event! I did not write this in order so I may repeat stuff here but. I realized I had to cover the design first so here we are!
First thing that stuck out of me is this portion when you choose to sample some of the clam’s slime.
Sibling/family infighting is very Jia family. It reminds me a lot of this line base Hong Lu says.
You could take this a step further because the clam is something that would typically offer shelter from the rest of the world, and even though it protects, its offspring continue to kill and eat each other.
It seems fine, the offspring have this lovely shell for protection, and they have the precious pearl held within, but even as they are sheltered and wealthy. They are still getting killed and eaten by one another! Reminds me of someone I know:)
It reminds me of some bits in the later half of Red Chamber, where family members more obviously start acting behind each other’s backs or turning on each other, some even killing other family members.
Another part of the MD event that I got something out of was the beginning portion.
using specifically jade as the color for the seawater is a Hong Lu thing. I may be reaching with this bc it’s more than likely just flavor text BUT when taking this color with the fact that there’s nothing in the water it makes me think of an important scene in Red Chamber where Bao-Yu is described as an empty shell, so I wanted to mention it. We know Hong Lu has TONS of water motifs, especially when relating to his family (see his base ego)
The main reason I brought up this section of the MD event is because of the question brought up by the last portion.
If you take one thing from Dream Of The Red Chamber into your perception of Hong Lu as a character, it should be the themes of ambiguity, duality, and being between binaries. Because he sure as hell does that a lot!!! (and i’m not just talking about his gender) He is both genuinely curious and sheltered with an urge to learn as much as he can, but he also plays dumb frequently, backpedals and asks a lot of stupid questions on purpose to maintain others’ perceptions of him. He is CONSTANTLY walking the line between truth and illusion and it can be hard to tell which is which and precisely how much is fake or real, which is why I find him such an interesting character to think about.
Tangent about Hong Lu's characterization aside, it's really easy to read this line as about his family's perceptions of him.
Hong Lu (or rather, Bao-yu) can be read as being the source of the contamination in that he is the heir of the Jia family who is just an absolute fucking failure of everything you’d want in an heir for that time period.
The clam containing the filth can be read as Hong Lu’s lies (whether conscious lies or otherwise) to himself and others about the true “filth” of his family. Really good example of this is with another bit of window dialogue, but these lies and half truths come up quite a bit if you know where to look. (what happened to cohort of kin looking to stab each other in the back at every turn???)
We already have Hong Lu’s assorted water motifs (his feet make ripples on the water in his base id, land of illusion has so much water theming and shows the Jia mansion is surrounded by water) so I think this is a reasonable analysis to make :)
There’s some other sections to the MD event, but there’s nothing of note that triggered the Hong Lu sleeper agent in my brain & also this has gone on long enough that I wanna talk about predicting some stuff for the ego!
I am manifesting Gluttony/Gloom/Wrath for this ego!!
Gluttony and gloom are in the MD event’s skill check already and I think tie in nicely with the themes. Gluttony works with the offspring in the muck killing and eating each other and themes of greed with the pearl (plus the ego is primarily green and that’s a pretty good clue) and then gloom comes up a LOT with Hong Lu’s family (Liu Hong Lu, the only one that remarks on his jade eye, is also the only Hong Lu with gloom. land of illusion requires 5 gloom resources and also relates a lot to red chamber/his family) Gloom’s also generally a stand-in for water which exists here.
Wrath in Hong Lu generally manifests in him going “yeah, maybe my family was a little fucked up actually” internally, instead of manifesting as taking direct action about the fucked up things like it works for most other sinners, and acknowledging that his family was at least partially filth and killing and eating eachother (metaphorically. maybe literally) works for that
i am not an expert on sin analysis but i wanted to take a prediction bc it’s fun :)
I have a couple of predictions for corrosion and i’ll be real they are the main reason i wrote this thing because i LOVE when bad things happen to Hong Lu!!
Since this ego seems to be referencing Bao-yu so much i can pull stuff from Red Chamber too which makes it more fun :)
First one I came up with is Hong Lu taking the place of the pearl within the clam and getting locked in there! A bunch of his egos have to do with being controlled/trapped so i think it works and it also can work as a parallel for Bao-yu’s treatment by his family. Bao-yu’s name means precious jade, and he’s often treated more like his namesake than a person, heavily controlled and never allowed to leave the Jia mansion (or, in this case, the clam.) I just think it’d be fun!
My other concept has to do with more Red Chamber stuff, notably what happens when Bao-yu loses his jade. I’m not quite there yet in the text, but from what i’ve heard he becomes incredibly unstable and essentially loses his mind. This sets the Jia family’s downfall into even faster motion and from that point things get REALLY fucked up. Since the pearl here parallels Bao-yu’s jade, I think having a reference to that part of the book would be really fucking crazy for all 5 people who have read 1800+ pages of red chanber to get to chapter 94 where he loses that thing. Also i just want to see Hong Lu lose his mind i KNOW it would be terrifying and chilling. but they may be saving that for his distortion (manifesting)
In my skimming Red Chamber table of contents to find when Bao-yu loses his jade i just found a chapter where Bao-yu’s father admires a pearl but we will just ignore that for now bc this has taken long enough to type already and that is several chapters off. but there may be more analysis when this thing actually comes out!
Thank you for reading this far!! I hope you enjoyed me looking far too deep into an unreleased ego we know next to nothing about for fun! this took WAY longer than expected to type out but i’m glad I did because I loveee telling people about Hong Lu!
There is a very real chance very little of my analysis and prediction is reflected in canon BUT please remember that truth becomes fiction when the fiction’s true and even if this doesn’t turn out to be correct now u know a little more about Hong Lu and the themes he plays with :)
#limbus company#hong lu#hong lu lcb#limbus analysis#effervescent corrosion#analysis#limbus company analysis#my analysis#pachiposting#idk what tags people use!!! this deleted on me halfway thru and i type slow so weiting this was a miracle#i think i’m cooking here. i love analyzing#fighting for my life to upload the. ugly clam theory lore
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i was encouraged for two seconds and now you all get to look at medieval ghost trick—heavily based on the medieval AU by @theriveroflight!
MORE WORDS BELOW THE CUT:
im gonna talk about each outfit specifically because again, someone encouraged me for 2 seconds and i love talking
YOMIEL (and SISSEL): Sissel gets a little medieval hood instead of a plain kerchief, because it's adorable.
Yomiel's outfit is based on this gentleman here, but with a longer doublet to mimic his suit jacket. His red clothes are plain and a common color, but the richness of the color (from an early dye batch) indicates that it's probably a bit expensive, and the rich black collar and blindfold (because sunglasses didn't exist) are also some flashy signifiers of wealth.
The white leather of his shoes and belt would also be pretty showy (even if those white shoes are a bad idea in medieval mud...). I couldn't figure out a way to make the hat work, but I kinda wanted to.
CABANELA: As a knight, Cabanela not only has some flashy white leather for his belt, but he's wearing a full-length chainmail shirt (expensive!) AND a deep black skirted tunic—lots of fabric that would take LOTS of expensive dye. This is conspicuous consumption to the max, showing off his status (indicated by his silver chain and pendant) as a royal knight.
His sword doesn't quite seem to match...as it's not his, but Jowd's old sword, still bearing Jowd's family's crest. Cabanela's outfit is taken from these two 12th/13th c. knights.
LYNNE: A younger and less established knight than Cabanela, she's wearing more common colors (red, blue, yellow) from cheaper dyes, and her armor is based on this 9th/10th c. fellow. Older gear and much less flashy—she has plain brown leather accessories—but she bears the green ribbon favor that shows her commitment to Jowd's case.
Plus, her hose (pants) are a pretty deep blue and her armor is polished. She's taking good care of her handmedown gear and has made a few splurges on clothes! Her sword may not have a crest, but there's still a few jewels set in the hilt, befitting a royal knight.
KAMILA (and MISSILE):
Kamila as a young noblewoman is referenced from this statue of a French queen. Her veil and circlet are typical for medieval women—most wore some kind of hair covering—but her circlet is metal, while most ordinary people would use fabric. I'm very proud of how nice all the gilding turned out. The power of shading!
Her little purse is not only expensive, but a royal favor—it's silk dyed Tyrian purple, a color that was often legally banned for anyone not in the royal family. I imagine it's a gift from her friend, Princess Amelie! Her clothes are pretty plain, light colors for a noblewoman, which is probably a matter of taste and/or youth.
The pose she's in, holding her cloak fastening down so it doesn't pull against her throat, is very common in medieval artwork of the period where this type of sash fastening was common.
Missile is Missile. you can't improve on perfection XD. I have given him a green collar, in a style to match Kamila's fancy gilt belt.
JOWD:
Jowd is dressed in his "prison clothes", this rough brown friar's robe and rope belt that I copied the pose from as well. However, being brought back onto the case as a knight, he's recovered his old green "coat", a very nice garment called a gardcorps. It's a simple green, not too expensive, but it's lined in a contrasting white, showing the care put into its make.
I switched the opening on his gardcorps to the front, rather than the side as in the original illustration, so that the rope belt would be visible because I really liked the belt. It's got most of the "penitent" vibes I was trying to give Jowd. Also, like the friar, he is barefoot (prison does not give one a big clothes budget).
The background shows the city, like the original green-monochrome city skyline from the game's promo images. This city, however, has fewer and smaller lights, indicating the palace and the castle wall—and over the sea, the Viking longships of Sith's country are swarming in! (it's explicitly not longships in the fic I reference, but the Vikings are just too suitable a reference)
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