#with a flick of the creator of universe ass
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New AU?/Новая АВ?
Hello everyone! After listening to one song, the idea of an AU based on BATIM is spinning in my head and won’t let go. Like exactly in the cartoon universe, without this “Creepy and Horrible Studio” Woo-ooo-oo~..Haha…BUT I’m still just getting my hands on drawing these "Bros" and your opinion is important to me..So give it to me know if you are interested. In the near future, my headcanon designs for the original cartoons(Bendy, Boris, Alice) will appear on my Blog, and then if I see a response (most likely even without it), I will try to start working on this miracle.. (the sketch (it is below) as always, like it better than the result, what an injustice TwT)
Всем огромный привет! После прослушивания одной песни у меня в башке крутиться и не отпускает идея АУ по БАТИМ. Типа именно по вселенной мультяшек, без этой "Жуткой и ужасной студии" У-у-у-у~..Хаха…НО я всё ещё только набиваю руку в рисовании этих бро и мне важно ваше мнение..Так чтоо Дайте мне знать если вам интересно. В ближайшее время в моём Блоге появяться ��ои хедканонные дизайнны на оригинальных мультяшек, а после если я увижу отклик(скорее всего даже без него) я попробую начать работу над этим чудом-юдом..(скетч(он ниже) мне как всегда нравиться больше итога, что за несправедливость TwT)
#art#cartoon#fanart#drawing#batim bendy#bendy au#batim au#batdr au#It seems to me that the idea is so banal that it’s even funny#You know#like#“A long-lost prince#with a flick of the creator of universe ass#of is found and from a homeless ragamuffin becomes a ruler”#...#Okay#as soon as I wrote this it became similar to the trends in Gacha Life of the 2020s
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SUZU!!! I wanna say that your writing is so NGHH my go-to scaraspice writers 10/10 Can I request balladeer Scara (Like in the official Genshin universe when he's still in the Fatui) breeding us till he's all sweaty and panting? Like they're trying to see if he can actually produce offspring so they just fuck till they find out one day You're amazing, Suzu. Remember to take breaks and care for yourself! Have a great day/night!! <3
fatui!scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. breeding kink. degradation. multiple creampie. feral!scaramouche.
fatui scara has that extra mmm😳 everyone, feel free to listen to animal by magnolia park while reading. and thank you🥺 i am actually terrified of you all losing interest 😅
scaramouche is a man hell bent on one mission. and one mission only.
to fuck a baby inside of you.
he never even gave a shred of thought to such a weak, human need. until he met you. now the thought consumed him. breeding a baby inside of you would be the biggest fuck you to his..creator. abandoned at birth for crying, thought to be inadequate.
it would scream: look at what i did! he could kill two birds with one stone. giving his mother the middle finger, all while taking care of you and fucking you so good until you were dumb and drooling, his cum dripping from your cunt.
how that for inadequacy?!
he wasn't sure how many times his cock ribboned cum inside of you. panting and breathless, he would just reposition you and stuff his cock back inside of you.
flipping you over, he pulled your hips up and smacked your ass before bullying his cock back inside of you from behind. "i promise i'll fucking show her," he groaned, bottoming out with a languid stroke that made your finger nails claw into the sheets, "i'll fuck you so full, your pretty cunt won't be able to hold it all."
his cock made unholy noises squelching in and out of you. you buried your face in the pillows, pushing back against his cock as drool soaked onto the pillow. you'd been stuck in the same blissful cycle for what felt like hours.
your cervix was bound to be bruised, he is fucking you that keep. but you didn't care. the feeling of him devouring you felt too good. he more than made sure you were cumming hard on his cock before filling you. rinse and repeat.
"my lord, please! fuck me harder!" you cried out, breathless from your next orgasm already knotting intensely inside of you. "i can barely breathe!" you managed behind your moans. your overstimulated walls clutched like a glove around his cock.
scaramouche laughed drunkenly hearing you cry out his rightful title as lord. it made his cock pulse harder between your gummy walls. "shh, it's okay, kitten," he purred, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking your head up.
outside his tent, he was pretty sure his subordinates could hear how good he was fucking you.
you mewled as your walls squeezed tighter on his cock from the rough treatment. his tongue flicked out along the shell of your ear. "you just keep crying for me like a whore while i fuck you fuller," his hips snapped into yours with a vigor that wasn't going to fade.
his body shuddered in pleasure, wishing he could reach down and caress your stomach, feeling the deep buldge of his cock. he has to be thorough so your belly will swell with child.
he drooled at the thought, smacking his hand across your hair. his bangs clung sweaty to his forehead as he pumped his cock inside of you. his body was burning with the ache to cum inside of you more. "i'll fucking knock you up like i promised. make you my wife. how does that sound, slut?" he moaned, pinching and playing with one of your nipples.
he couldn't believe you and your pretty pussy were tempting him to something as human as marriage. but he never felt so sure of something in his life. he is so fucking in love in hurt. it was almost disgusting to him.
you only moaned louder. "please! please, that's what i want. so so much..." you babbled, reaching down to rub your clit to show how badly you want those things. how badly you want him.
your fierce declaration made his cock spurt cum inside of you, a satisfied groan sounding from him as he curved your back down. he groped around on your stomach, pushing on the buldge.
your orgasm jolted through you, tearing a near scream of pleasure from your throat. your body felt limp, your walls fluttering around his cock as he fucked his cum relentlessly up inside of you. he batted your hand away from your clit.
he delivered a soothing pinch before circling his thumb around the swollen bud. pulling out half way, your toes curled as he slowly pushed himself back in. "another. it isn't enough," he hissed, hastily pulling out and rolling you over onto your back.
you were trembling, and exhausted. lost in a haze of fucked out bliss. you nodded, barely able to sit up and place a few, submissive licks on his mouth. an action that made his cock harder.
you dedicated yourself to pleasing him with every fiber of his being. because he deserves it. he knew he deserved it. that much was evident as he smirked down at you.
rest assured he will have fucked you full five more times before you took that first pregnancy test.
#genshin impact#genshin smut#fem!reader#genshin imagines#scaramouche#scaramouche smut#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x y/n#scaramouche x you
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Dating Luther Hargreeves Would Include...
Request: Hello, lovely! I adore your blog and am so sorry to hear about the writer's block. I was wondering if you could do headcanons for dating Luther Hargreeves? I checked your masterlist and I don't believe you've done it before, but if I missed it, please disregard this. I'm sending all the positive thoughts your way! Thank you 💕
Thank you so much kind anon for the lovely words, and I actually cannot believe I haven’t written for space man before! He turned out to be my mum’s favourite in season 3 despite her love for Klaus, which is high praise indeed lmaoo
This is mainly going to cover season one and pre-season one, so if you’d like continuations for each season please do let me know!
This also took quite a while, and I’m nervous to be back aha so any feedback is much appreciated!!
(I do not own the Umbrella Academy or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @diegodaggers.)
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°
Kind of only half joking when I say Luther Hargreeves will only go out with you if you’ve been adopted by Reginald soz Luthie boy but you definitely have a type lmao.
The two of you definitely met for the first time at Griddy’s, when the two of you were around sixteen years old: you were sitting by the window of the corner booth, looking out at the sleeting rain as you worked on your literature assignment and waited for your adoptive mom Agnes to finish glazing donuts for the night. You were so heavily concentrated on furiously scribbling your notes that it took your brain a few seconds, and your eyes a few blinks, to realise that a shadow was looming over you. The stifled giggles of the kids you had noticed filling up their usual Friday night spots at the counter when you had wandered on alerted you to the fact that it was probably one of them sent over to make trouble. You were pleasantly surprised, however, to peer up and see the sweet blossom smile of a surprisingly tall boy holding a jam donut in his napkinned hand.
‘Oh, that’s one of my favourites! Do you mind if I join you? I’ve had enough of being splattered with chocolate sprinkles for one night.’
He turns back slightly to roll his eyes at his siblings, still chattering over their cups of hot cocoa. You tried not to laugh when you spotted one of the boys - the one with his leg haphazardly thrown over the scowling kid’s chair - dunk a marshmallow out of the goop and ping it at said boy’s face. Luther turned back to you just in time to miss the scowling boy throw the last chunk of his donut as his brother’s yelping face with impeccable aim, his smile instead only growing tenfold again as you lifted your legs down from the other cushioned seat and allowed him to scoot in.
He placed his donut between the two of you, uncurling the edges of the napkin and bashfully beckoning at it as if he were inviting you to finish it. For the first time in his life, as he leant over the table with his fists under his hands and all the stars in the universe glowing brightly in his eyes as you talked, he didn’t give an ass about letting his father down. He was too fascinated, too enraptured by you: your openness, your kindness, the way your forehead crinkled and you dipped your head every time you were trying to get your giggles under control. Although he tried desperately not to make you uncomfortable as he followed your every word, he couldn’t help the way his eyes flicked down to your mouth every so often. One by one, the rest of siblings began milling out the door to make the treacherous journey through the storm and back home; Luther would just wave them off, never taking his eyes off of yours. He had found his port here, and for the first time in his life, under the mildew glow of the shop’s hanging lights, he felt normal.
He never wanted it to end.
You’d make a point of stopping by the barriers to their weird, cragged looking sprawl of a mansion if you caught wind that they had ventured into the city on a mission. Managing to butt your way to the front, you squeeze in between a very sweaty looking reporter holding out a microphone, and an incredibly hopeful kid dressed up in their uniform who loomed over the barricade. It took every inch of restraint not to bust out laughing at the leather mission outfit the first time you saw Luther step out in it, but the feeling quickly resided when you peered between a couple of heads and made eye contact with Luther. He seemed to light up immediately: it was almost as if he had been sitting in shadows and the warmth of the sunlight had finally flooded his face as he ran up to you. He immediately locked fingers with your own over the metal, rushing to ask if you were okay and if you were safe, despite being the one staring down the barrel of a gun only twenty minutes ago.
When his father finally tugged him off and snapped his cane at Luther’s heels like he was scolding an uncooperative hound, Luther still turned round to wave at you with each bound up the front door steps. Despite how fervently you were waving back, you didn’t fail to notice the way Allison flicked her hair and rolled her eyes as she walked past you, blocking your view of Luther.
Although he was never fully on board with breaking the rules, even if it was for his ‘soulmate’ as he had so eloquently told Diego (to a fit of snorting laughter), he could live with pretending that you had just magically appeared in the Academy. To try and prove he wasn’t such a love-hating ass, Diego used to haul you up the fire escape and through Klaus’ room, who would smoke a cigarette out his window to keep watch. When you finally reach Luther’s room (after having to quite literally claw Klaus off you as he tried his best to convince you to let him give you a makeover before you ‘go to meet loverboy’), Luther tries his best (bless him) to ‘woo you’ in the way normal teenagers would, should be able to. Sometimes that means he pushes his wardrobe in front of his door to stop his father from coming in, and listening to records (and having to watch his god awful dancing). Although that usually turns into dance parties, with the two of you jumping around the room, Luther grabbing your arms and spinning you around him until it’s interrupted by Klaus and his feather boa landing in the middle of the two of you.
Neither of you have managed to figure out how he got through the door. Luther thinks he can walk through walls, while you swear from the bangs and whimpering noises you can hear from the pipes sometimes that he crawls through the vents to escape the Academy.
One time, one special time, as soon as you had knocked on his bedroom door Luther had come bounding out. He pressed his long fingers over your eyes and turned your body back round, letting you lean back and rest against his torso as he led you gently up a few flight of stairs. Once you feel a bite of frost scratch at your nose, you finally realise you’re on the roof. With a buoyant ‘voila’ he lifted his hands, allowing you full view of the few wobbly blankets he had stolen from Allison and pitched up in a makeshift fort. Decked out with a few stringed fairy lights, and some sofa pillows, he found himself letting a sigh of relief he didn’t realise he had been holding in when you smiled and clambered into it. As you settled yourself down, it took you a moment to realise that Luther was holding something else in his hand - except for the soda cans he had bartered with Klaus to get.
You can feel his knee shake and bump where its resting next to yours as he opens up the velvet box and reveals the heart necklace inside, adorned with yours and his initials. His fingers tremble against your pulse point as he clasps it behind your back with a grateful thank you. He swears, as you fiddle with the locket and promise him that you’ll wear it forever, a wave of euphoria washes over him so overwhelmingly that he could fly if he dared to move.
That night is the first time Luther Hargreeves kisses you. For a while, the two of you muddle your way into a clumsy, adolescent kind of affinity. A new kind of understanding, as you manoeuvre yourselves till your lying side by side; his arm is strewn over his stomach, his head resting against the side of yours as he strains his eyes to keep looking over at you. Like, okay, we’ve been lost and confused for a while, but suddenly while I’m with you the strewn fragments of my life suddenly begin to make sense. With tranquillity washing over every relaxed muscle in his body, it takes Luther all of five seconds to decide to interrupt your speaking by hitching up on his elbow and swooping down towards you. For a second, his eyes widen in horror as if he’s finally realised that he’s about to kiss you, and you may run away in revulsion and refuse to ever see him again. With his heart in his throat, he pauses for a second as his nose brushes over the tip of yours, weighing up his decision. The overriding ‘yes, yes, yes’ in his head wins, and he closes his eyes and trusts himself to gently lean down and press his lips tenderly against yours. He’s so soft, so fragile as he pulls back; worry lines his eyes, as if he’s afraid that even with such a delicate pressure his strength has hurt you. It’s only when you tug the lapels of his jacket and let him fall on top of you in a crushing hug that he gets the message that its okay.
And it is. And it will be. Even during the harder days, when seeing you wear that necklace is the only thing that can bring Luther some form of comfort. All those years later, when the two of you have finally grown up - and yet you’re the only one who seems to be well adjusted to living in the real world. The days when you finally have your own flat, your own job, a solid life, and yet you can’t help but still sneak in to see Luther, absolutely devastated that he won’t allow himself to live. But then the accident happens, and he wakes up... and everything feels different, for a while. Still lying on the operating table, you’re thankful for the supportive touch of Grace’s hand on your shoulder as she closes the doors behind her, allowing the two of you the privacy and intimacy you had fought your lives so hard for. You’re roused from where you’re resting, bleary eyed, against his thigh by the slight twitch of his fingers against the side of your locket. At first, you’re confused. But then those same fingers come reaching for your face, and you jump up a few seconds after you feel the back of his cracked knuckles brush against your chin. Even through the veil of tiredness and pain, it breaks your heart to see the concern in those kind eyes as he watches you as intently as he can. You just shake your head and laugh out a sob as you brush over his overgrowing stubble.
Before he’s sent off to the moon, you’re the only person Luther will unlock his bedroom door to see. He spends most of his days with the door barred once more, even asking Grace to leave his breakfasts and dinners outside by the frame. The two of you mainly spend your remaining time together trying your best to huddle up together in his now too small bed: you cradling his head into your chest, and him trying his best to hug you like he used to and letting the wracking sobs overcome him.
When he finally does go, recording video messages about how much he ‘thinks about you constantly’ and ‘loves you more than the whole world’ and how ‘despite how important the mission is for humanity, I’m still counting down the days until I can see you again’ are the only things keeping him sane. That, and the picture of you he strokes his pointer finger against every night before he tries to fall into a restless sleep: the one he made Ben take during your second meeting at Griddy’s. You’re laughing because Luther had just smushed cream into your face, while he has an arm thrown around your shoulder and is too busy smiling down at you to even realise the picture had been taken yet. It’s the only object he owns that he actually cares about, and so he keeps it tucked safely in his breast pocket.
My man is straight up heartbroken about his father’s death. The one thing that seems to bring him back round is karaoke! You scrounge up and save for a while so you can surprise him at his return with a brand new machine for his room (he only spots it once he’s bear hugged you and spun you around the room, his head buried so deeply against your neck as he breathes you again that he nearly doesn’t see it at all.) You’re thankful that no one else has arrived at the mansion yet, and he’s thankful that he can finally sing without anyone poking fun at him as the two of you spend the night duetting ‘You’re the One that I Want’. When the song ends, he tugs you into his side and dips his chin onto the top of your head, feeling calm and serene and loved for the first time in four years.
That feeling of peace sadly ends early the next morning when his siblings begin parading back home for the funeral. Suddenly it’s like old times again; they’re all polite to Luther, perhaps a little awkward at the change of him, but they’re all more than glad to see you again. You can tell from the slightly lingering and tight hug Diego leans down to give you, or the way Klaus throws his arms up in the air and squeals when he spots you, before coming and jumping into your arms. Thankfully Luther was lingering behind you and was able to catch the two of you before you skid across the floor. Although he rolled his eyes as he placed Klaus’ feet back onto the floorboards, it’s sweet to know that in some form, his siblings do care. It’s even more obvious by the way they side eye each other each time you grab Luther’s arm to pull him away from a brewing argument with his brother, or when you manage to squidge yourself between him and Diego when you notice them punching a little too close to Ben’s statue for your liking. They’re grateful, in their own ways, to know that the brother they left behind wasn’t alone after all.
You’ve discovered that the way to bring him back round to himself if he gets all huffy and grumpy is to press kisses all over his face. He kind of paws his hands up as if he’s about to push you off, but he’s peached like a flustered puppy whenever you stop. It doesn’t take long for the pout to come out and for him to grip your wrist and pull you back towards him for a smiling kiss.
Although you tried to be as supportive as you could during his investigation into his father’s monocle... trying to be there for Luther when he discovers that his whole life has been a lie and his dad never really cared about him was rough. He didn’t mean to be so extreme, or so harsh with you, but he pushed everyone away with a heartbroken anger that made you shake with a fury against his family you didn’t think you could feel. You managed to track him down, by the sound of weeping behind the door, to one of the unused bathrooms on the third floor. After a lot of convincing, and some minor threatening, you roped a very frantic looking Diego into picking the door for you. It was hard to swallow your sigh when the door flung open onto the sad scene of Luther trying his best with his clunky limbs to press his knees against his chest. He was just sitting on the floor, cradling himself and crying. You spent a long time that day just sitting down next to him, resting your shin against his like when you were kids to bring him some familiarity, and holding your hand out. You knew that when his hurt, and when his pride had lessened, he would be able to take it. The world seemed so upside down, so different now, but Luther Hargreeves folded into you all the same, collapsing into your side as if you were the only thing the right side up. You try your best to crawl into the side of his coat, and the two of you spend the next couple of hours staying cuddled up against the wall, just holding each other.
Eventually, once a lavender dusk begins to dust over the windowpanes and melts across the tiles, you manage to get Luther out to get some fresh air for a bit. You didn’t go too far considering his current bloodshot eyed-state, but it still broke your heart to realise, as he looked around at the trees and spewing fountains with such wonder, that it was probably the furthest he had been from the house since before the accident. You stop by a bench, thinking the two of you could sit under the milky moonlight for a while before returning to the mayhem, but he surprises you by offering you his hand. With a sorrowful smile, you take it, and allow him to lead your feet on top of his shoes. With the truest smile he’s felt since he left the moon gracing his face at the sight of you tucked up against his chest, he puts his arms tightly around your waist and begins to hum an old love song: one he had listened to on repeat for a whole week after he had first met you, that was now probably collecting dust among the rest of his childhood records. As you slow dance around the pavement, the two of you revel in the knowledge that the world could explode right now, and you would both be content knowing you would go from this world safe in each other’s arms.
#tua#the umbrella academy#luther hargreeves#luther hargreeves imagine#luther hargreeves x reader#tua imagine#umbrella academy#tua headcanons#umbrella academy imagine#the umbrella academy imagine#luther hargreeves headcanons#tom hopper#umbrella academy headcanons#the umbrella academy headcanons#klaus hargreeves#diego hargreeves#allison hargreeves
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Brooklyn Go Hard
Across the Spider-Verse is killing at the box office right now and rightfully so. It’s exceptional. Not quite as good as it’s predecessor but still a top-five Spider-Flick, all time. I’m not going to go into detail about every little thing i loved in this fick, or the dope ass fan-service riddled throughout, or the emotional character study on acceptance and independence, or that full-circle moment with Childish Gambino, or any of the other, many, many, things that made my inner child squee with joy. I’m not gong to do that. I will say this; Go see that sh*t right now! Across the Spider-Verse is everything and absolutely NEEDS to be seen on the big screen to take in all of the grandeur. No, this essay is about the main character of what is fast becoming one of the greatest film franchises, animated or otherwise, i n history: Miles f*cking Morales!
Miles is the greatest thing to come out of the now defunct Ultimate Marvel line. He was created as the replacement for the 1610 Peter after dude got taken out by that universes Green Goblin. Spider-Man is my favorite hero in any universe so i hated that sh*t with a passion. Miles coming along and taking up the mantle felt like heresy and Bendis, his creator and writer at the time, definitely leaned into that sh*t. But as time went on, Miles became more than just a “black Peter Parker.” He grew into the webs and, but the time that first Spider-Men series dropped, WAS Spider-Man. 616 Pete gave Miles his blessing, and i think so did the overall audience by that point, and he swung off to do his own thing, until Secret Wars brought him to the 616. It would be in the main Marvel Universe that Miles really got to shine.
For a long time, Miles was the only refuge from the destroyed 1610 and, as such, found himself out of place. It took time for him to adjust but he did and, eventually, became one of the premier Spider-people in all of Marvel. That’s about when he started getting the big push. Miles was everywhere, all at once. He was in comics, doing big things, in that masterpiece of a video PS4 video game, and, finally, on the big screen winning our hearts while he chased after Spider-Gwen in the most awkward way possible. Into the Spider-Verse is, for me, the greatest Spider-Flick ever made and it stars, top billing, Miles Morales. And that’s coming from an unapologetic Peter Parker shill. Into the Spider-Verse did so much for Miles as a character, it was borderline embarrassing to the comics, and up to that point, the comics did fine by the kid! Also, Spider-Gwen. The animated Ghost Spider is awesome and, while i do enjoy her comics counterpart, it’s real hard not to recognize her brilliance on film, especially after seeing her origin in Across.
Bro, i love Miles, man. I think he has become an Amazing Spider-Man, and an even more brilliant character, in his own right. I think he is an ideal example of how to add diversity to an established character without resorting to pandering or lazy race-bending. There is a lot of talk about how Miles is “better” than Pete because he has so many new powers but that goes for any “new” Spider. Cats forget Kaine has stingers, Anya had an exoskeleton, Cindy has organic webbing. Every time a new Spider I introduced, they have better powers than Pete. Every. Single. Time. Hell, the first “new” Spider, Jessica Drew, has those venom shots, just like Miles. None of that stuff takes away from Peter, never has. There is no gran conspiracy to replace Pete with Miles as THE Spider-Man. There’s no way anyone would accept that. The only thing hobbling Parker right now is awful writing but i digress. Across the Spider-Verse is an amazing f*cking film and Miles Morales is fast becoming one of my all-time favorite characters in media. From film, to comics, to television, and even in video games, Brooklyn’s own Spider-Man has spun a web that is catching all kinds of fans, left and right. Couldn’t have happened to a more deserving kid.
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Brooklyn Go Hard
Across the Spider-Verse is killing at the box office right now and rightfully so. It’s exceptional. Not quite as good as it’s predecessor but still a top-five Spider-Flick, all time. I’m not going to go into detail about every little thing i loved in this fick, or the dope ass fan-service riddled throughout, or the emotional character study on acceptance and independence, or that full-circle moment with Childish Gambino, or any of the other, many, many, things that made my inner child squee with joy. I’m not gong to do that. I will say this; Go see that sh*t right now! Across the Spider-Verse is everything and absolutely NEEDS to be seen on the big screen to take in all of the grandeur. No, this essay is about the main character of what is fast becoming one of the greatest film franchises, animated or otherwise, i n history: Miles f*cking Morales!
Miles is the greatest thing to come out of the now defunct Ultimate Marvel line. He was created as the replacement for the 1610 Peter after dude got taken out by that universes Green Goblin. Spider-Man is my favorite hero in any universe so i hated that sh*t with a passion. Miles coming along and taking up the mantle felt like heresy and Bendis, his creator and writer at the time, definitely leaned into that sh*t. But as time went on, Miles became more than just a “black Peter Parker.” He grew into the webs and, but the time that first Spider-Men series dropped, WAS Spider-Man. 616 Pete gave Miles his blessing, and i think so did the overall audience by that point, and he swung off to do his own thing, until Secret Wars brought him to the 616. It would be in the main Marvel Universe that Miles really got to shine.
For a long time, Miles was the only refuge from the destroyed 1610 and, as such, found himself out of place. It took time for him to adjust but he did and, eventually, became one of the premier Spider-people in all of Marvel. That’s about when he started getting the big push. Miles was everywhere, all at once. He was in comics, doing big things, in that masterpiece of a video PS4 video game, and, finally, on the big screen winning our hearts while he chased after Spider-Gwen in the most awkward way possible. Into the Spider-Verse is, for me, the greatest Spider-Flick ever made and it stars, top billing, Miles Morales. And that’s coming from an unapologetic Peter Parker shill. Into the Spider-Verse did so much for Miles as a character, it was borderline embarrassing to the comics, and up to that point, the comics did fine by the kid! Also, Spider-Gwen. The animated Ghost Spider is awesome and, while i do enjoy her comics counterpart, it’s real hard not to recognize her brilliance on film, especially after seeing her origin in Across.
Bro, i love Miles, man. I think he has become an Amazing Spider-Man, and an even more brilliant character, in his own right. I think he is an ideal example of how to add diversity to an established character without resorting to pandering or lazy race-bending. There is a lot of talk about how Miles is “better” than Pete because he has so many new powers but that goes for any “new” Spider. Cats forget Kaine has stingers, Anya had an exoskeleton, Cindy has organic webbing. Every time a new Spider I introduced, they have better powers than Pete. Every. Single. Time. Hell, the first “new” Spider, Jessica Drew, has those venom shots, just like Miles. None of that stuff takes away from Peter, never has. There is no gran conspiracy to replace Pete with Miles as THE Spider-Man. There’s no way anyone would accept that. The only thing hobbling Parker right now is awful writing but i digress. Across the Spider-Verse is an amazing f*cking film and Miles Morales is fast becoming one of my all-time favorite characters in media. From film, to comics, to television, and even in video games, Brooklyn’s own Spider-Man has spun a web that is catching all kinds of fans, left and right. Couldn’t have happened to a more deserving kid.
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#5: The One With Astruc's Self-Insert
In my introductory post, I said the main inspiration for this blog was @hypocrisyofandrewdobson. For those who don't know, Andrew Dobson is an infamous webcomic artist known for drawing webcomics that tend to demonize people he's come across in public or people who disagree with him online (either critical of his art or his political views), while portraying himself as the victim or wise man calling them out on their differing beliefs.
If you want to learn more about this guy who I consider to be far worse than Astruc, check out the blog in question. And no, I don't know why he draws himself as a blue bear.
Why am I talking about this? It's one thing for some schmuck on the internet to use his work to respond to criticism, but the creator of a popular animated series dedicating an entire episode to attacking his critics and trying to get others to feel bad for him is another story.
The second episode of Miraculous Ladybug's third season, “Animaestro” served as a wake-up call for fans (myself included) to make them realize how immature Astruc could be. The plot centers around the premiere of a movie about Ladybug and Cat Noir directed by Thomas Astruc, who voices himself in the original French dub.
And this isn't just a brief cameo like what Stan Lee did in the MCU. Astruc is the Akumatized person this episode, so there's naturally a lot of focus on him. Throughout the first half of the episode, Astruc portrays himself as this timid man who nobody recognizes or respects, like this idiot who doesn't know what animation is.
Doorman: This is a private event, sir.
Astruc: Huh? Excuse me? I'm Thomas Astruc, the movie director.
Doorman: You filmed Cat Noir and Ladybug? What are they like in real life?
Astruc: Er, it's an animated movie. It's all cartoon characters. We don't actually film anyone. See, there's this whole team that draw the chara—
Doorman: Whatever. Who would want to see Ladybug and Cat Noir as cartoon characters?
Get it? Wasn't that meta joke hilarious? This is how much I was laughing:
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And Astruc continues to get about as much respect as Rodney Dangerfield when he interacts with other characters like Jagged Stone and Chloe.
Jagged Stone: Ladybug is one of my best buds! I can't wait to see her movie!
Astruc: Well I—I'm the director, so actually it's more my movie, so to speak.
Jagged Stone: Oh, so you're the one who created the story?
Astruc: Well, technically the screen writers wrote the story, inspired by Ladybug's exploits.
Jagged Stone: Oh, okay. So you did all the drawings?
Thomas: No, no. The animators do all the drawings.
Jagged Stone: So what do you do then?
(Later on...)
Chloe: So you're the one responsible for this movie?
Astruc: Yes, yes! Exactly! That's me!
Chloe: Then you were the one who left Queen Bee out of the trailer. You're lame, utterly lame.
I can't believe Astruc had a scene where he interacted with Chloe and didn't insult her at all.
The episode is determined to make the audience feel bad for Astruc. Nobody respects him and what he does. Isn't that saaaaaad? Nobody cares about animated film directors like Walt Disney or Tex Avery anyway. Not even these stupid children understand how hard Astruc works.
Several Children: Ladybug! Where's Ladybug?
Astruc: Hey there, kids!
Teacher: Ladybug isn't here children. We came here to meet the director of the movie. Children: (frowning in disappointment) Aww.
(Astruc looks visibly disappointed.)
Way to insult your primary demographic, Astruc. I thought you said kids have a better understanding of these stories when people criticized the writing of a certain episode (It's that scene in “Puppeteer 2” if you're curious/don't value your sanity).
It's almost like you're using that as an excuse to half-ass your work while still getting to claim this show is so groundbreaking.
In case you can't tell, “Animaestro” is one of those episodes. The ones where the showrunners decide to dedicate an entire episode to attacking critics of the show in a blunt fashion. Whenever a show addresses criticism, they either create an obvious strawman character to parrot the opinions of fans who don't like their work, or have someone defend the show and insult the critics directly.
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The problem isn't that they're ignoring criticism. It's their show, and they aren't obligated to listen to critics or fans who don't like the direction the show is taking. On the other hand, they aren't obligated to fight back like this and treat their audience like crap. Any show that does something like the three clips I showed you usually comes off as petty and immature because they dedicate so much time to insulting the critics.
Even during the Akuma fight, Astruc has to call out Ladybug for having problems with his movie in-universe, obviously representing critics of the show Astruc claims have no right to criticize the show while it's still airing.
Ladybug: What's with that trailer too? I am not scared of cats, at all.
Astruc/Animaestro: You haven't even seen the movie and you're already slamming it?
Cat Noir: He does have a point, you know.
Ladybug: I wasn't slamming it. It's called constructive criticism!
Yeah, how dare Ladybug be angry that this movie is portraying her as a powerless coward dependent on Cat Noir as opposed to a confident and brave superhero. She just doesn't understand the genius of Thomas Astruc!
And of course the character Astruc claims is “perfect” is the one to take his side.
And that's another problem with this episode, the metatextual references. Before he gets akumatized, Astuc says he spent three years of his life working on his movie. I get that time in this show is weird (we somehow had episodes taking place on the first day of school, Christmas, Valentine's Day, and the first day of Summer), but how did Astruc's self-insert work on a movie based on a superhero who has only been active for a year? Meta-wise, it's an obvious reference to the scorn Astruc has gotten from fans after working so hard on his show, but the only people who would get that reference are the ones who are aware of Astruc's reputation online.
Self-Insert aside, I actually think the titular Animaestro is one of the more visually impressive Akumas featured on the show. Animaestro takes on several forms based off several different forms and eras of animation, like flash, anime, rubber hose, and they all stand out. Granted, some of them are obvious parodies of other characters like Goku or Sailor Moon, but the actual Akuma fight is fun to watch. According to the Mexican Miraculous Ladybug Twitter account, this episode took two and a half years to create, and it shows. It's too bad the story behind it is completely insufferable, almost like the cartoon equidistant to Pixels.
But then comes the part that honestly makes the episode worth it, mainly for how unintentionally hilarious it is. Do you want to know what Animaestro's weakness is? Do you really want to know?
Animaestro is physically incapable of moving unless someone is watching him. I am not making this up.
Ladybug and Cat Noir literally defeat Animaestro by getting everyone to stop paying attention to him.
I could make so many jokes with this, but I can guarantee you're already thinking of something just as good, if not better, than whatever I write.
And there's the end where Astruc gives Marinette his ticket to the movie, which prompts Marinette to kiss up to him for no real reason.
Astruc: Sorry, I guess you don't know who I am either.
Marinette: Of course do. You're Thomas Astruc, the movie director!
Astruc: She recognized me. Somebody actually recognized me!
Nothing happened to make her change her opinion on the Ladybug movie, she didn't really say anything to him earlier in the episode that connects to this exchange, and outside of a few lines Animaestro said, she doesn't even know why he got akumatized (even though ironically she and Chloe accidentally contributed to it because of the awful subplot involving Kagami I talked about last time). If anything, it comes off less like she actually appreciates Astruc's work, and more like she's stroking his ego just to keep him from getting akumatized again.
So yeah, this episode is awful, and the fact that it came out right after the controversial “Chameleon” only proved to show what kind of direction the show was taking this season.
But honestly, even if Astruc still wanted to make about how he doesn't get enough respect the episode could have potentially. All he had to do was make a simple change: Instead of making it about validation for Astruc as a creator, make it about validation for animation in general.
It's a common misconception that animation is only used for shows and movies aimed at children, so the episode could reflect it. Instead of the huge turnout where several celebrities appear at the premiere, instead, the turnout could be a lot smaller, with the media dismissing it as some stupid kiddie flick. Instead of getting akumatized because he gets humiliated in public/getting no respect from anyone else, Astruc gets akumatized because he sees the audience didn't go wild for the movie after the premiere. All he can hear them say is that it's just “kids stuff”.
So when Astruc is Animaestro, he goes on about how important animation is. How it's helped produce propaganda since World War II. How it helped improve special effects in big blockbusters. How the medium is used to create movies that simply can't be filmed on a physical set.
After defeating Animaestro, Ladybug shows up to talk to him. She had seen the movie earlier, and actually enjoyed it. She had a few problems with the story, but they were just minor nitpicks and inaccuracies Astruc wouldn't know about, and she was blown away by the animation. She tells Astruc not to be deterred by his critics, and continue to do what he does. As a designer in her civilian life, Ladybug knows the joy creating brings her, and both she and Astruc want to spread that joy through their work.
Back at the premiere, Astruc thinks about what Ladybug said to him when he sees some kids reenacting a scene from the movie. Astruc walks over to them and asks what they thought of the movie. They said they loved it and how energetic it was. When he tells them he is the director, the kids' faces light up and they say they want to do what he does when they grow up, bringing a smile to Astruc's face.
Isn't that a much more humble approach instead of what we got? It would have helped Astruc come across as more sympathetic, especially with animation fans. But instead, we got an entire episode of Astruc whining about how misunderstood he is.
And you know the footage used for the movie at the beginning? Remember that, because I have a huge rant about it saved for a later post.
For now, here’s an example of a creator appearing in his work done right.
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#immaturity of thomas astruc#thomas astruc#thomas astruc salt#miraculous ladybug#miraculous ladybug salt#animaestro#marinette dupain cheng#ladybug#adrien agreste#cat noir#chat noir#jagged stone#chloe bourgeois#queen bee#queen b#star trek: the next generation#the simpsons#harley quinn#teen titans go#thundercats roar#thundercats#spider-man#stan lee
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"I always just rode the waves,” Rebecca Ferguson says with a shrug. The comment hangs in the air, as if the Anglo-Swedish 37-year-old is only now processing that a combination of currents and tides has led her not just to an acting career but to the brink of big-screen stardom.
“I’ve never been ambitious,” she says. “I’ve always thought that that was a bad thing.” She’s seen others in the industry consumed by constant striving and asked herself why she hasn’t hungered for fame since childhood, slept in cars outside castings, barged into directors’ offices or thrown herself in the path of a producer. “But should I not be burning for this? Out meeting people and networking for the next job?” says Ferguson, who has chosen the sort of quiet, private life outside the big city that so many actors claim to crave. “My life just took another turn. But I’ve always thought: Am I where I should be?”
At the moment, on this late July day, Ferguson is slumped in the backseat of a Mercedes-Benz sedan, crawling through rush-hour traffic on the M4 out of London. She is capping off a hectic week during a particularly busy period. Most immediately, she’s coming from a table read for Wool, the Apple TV+ adaptation of Hugh Howey’s bestselling postapocalyptic trilogy. Ferguson is both the star and, for the first time, an executive producer. “I’m sitting in all the different rooms, listening and learning like the students,” she says. She’s filming Mission: Impossible 7, her third tour of duty in the long-running series that first brought her widespread recognition. She’s also promoting the film Reminiscence, the sci-fi noir written and directed by Westworld co-creator Lisa Joy in which Ferguson stars opposite Hugh Jackman. And now she is starting a press push and festival prep for her role as Lady Jessica ahead of the much-delayed release of Dune (in theaters October 22), director Denis Villeneuve’s reimagining of Frank Herbert’s novel. “After this film, I think everyone will see what I see in her,” the filmmaker says. “She has a beautiful, regal, aristocratic presence, elegance. But that was not the main thing: The most important thing for me was that depth.”
After tracing a long, meandering path, Ferguson has landed in a rare and rarified position: ascendant in her late 30s (still an anomaly for women in the film industry) and sought after by some of the biggest names in the business. “When you meet Rebecca, you just see it. She’s very open, candid, collaborative, hardworking, funny—and not pretentious,” says Tom Cruise, who handpicked Ferguson to star opposite him in the Mission: Impossiblefilms, which are known for their demanding shoots. “She just rose to the occasion every single time.”
In February 2020, when the pandemic began, Ferguson left Venice, where she’d been shooting Mission: Impossible 7, and hunkered down with her husband, their 3-year-old daughter and Ferguson’s 14-year-old son from a previous relationship at their farm in Sweden. After four months, Ferguson returned to the M:I set and basically hasn’t stopped working since.
Dune has sat idle for far longer. By the time the movie premieres, more than two years will have passed since it wrapped. Ferguson recently asked to screen the film again: “I miss it,” she says. She ended up bringing along her Mission: Impossible co-star Simon Pegg. After the credits rolled, Pegg broke into a smile and wrapped her in a congratulatory bear hug. “That’s all I needed,” she says.
Despite being a sci-fi epic based on a novel from 1965, Dune feels “very timely,” Ferguson says, pointing to its handling of environmental issues, religious zealotry, colonialism and Indigenous rights. The plot of the film, which cost an estimated $165 million, centers on occupying powers battling for the right to exploit a people and their planet, named Arrakis, for melange (or spice)—the most valuable commodity in Herbert’s fictional universe, a substance that provides transcendental thought, extends life and enables instantaneous interstellar travel. “Spice,” Ferguson says, “is equally about the poppy and oil fields.”
Ferguson’s Lady Jessica is a member of the Bene Gesserit, a powerful secretive sisterhood with superhuman mental abilities. She defies her order by giving birth to a son, Paul (played by Timothée Chalamet), who may be a messianic figure. “She basically just f—s up the entire universe by having a son out of love,” says Ferguson. In her hands, Jessica is equal parts caring parent, protector and pedagogue. Among the skills she wields and teaches Paul is “the Voice”—a modulated tone that allows the speaker to control others.
The movie was shot in Norway, Hungary, Jordan and Abu Dhabi, whose desert landscape stood in for Arrakis. Filming there was particularly arduous, as temperatures exceeded 120 degrees Fahrenheit, limiting the shoot window to only an hour and a half each day at 5 a.m. and again at dusk. “We were running across the sand in our steel suits being chased by nonexistent but humongous worms,” Ferguson recalls, referring to the sand-beasts later rendered in CGI. “To be honest, it was one of the best moments ever. It was the most beautiful location I’ve ever seen.”
Back in London, Ferguson is approaching home. She leaves the following day for a small town on the coast of England, where she plans to spend her first vacation in two years and to do some surfing. “Let’s hope it’s good weather,” she says. “If not, I’ll surf in the rain.” Not that she’s the sort to paddle out into storm swells. “I think I’ve managed to stand on a board once in my entire life,” she says. “But it was quite a high. Complete surrender to the waves and total control all at once.”
Born Rebecca Louisa Ferguson Sundström to an English mother and Swedish father, Ferguson grew up bilingual in Stockholm. She immersed herself in dance from a young age, enjoying ballet, jazz, street funk and tango. Despite being shy and prone to blushing and breaking out when forced to speak publicly, Ferguson found she was at ease in front of the camera. She dabbled in modeling and then, at 15, attended a TV casting call at her mother’s urging. Ferguson ended up getting the lead role in Nya Tider (New Times), a soap opera that became wildly popular, splashing Ferguson’s face into Swedish homes five times a week.
When her role ended about two years later, Ferguson was adrift. She had no formal acting training to fall back on, no clear sense of how to steer a career and no major connections to the industry. She had a short run on another soap and appeared in a slasher flick and a couple of independent shorts, then…nothing. “I was famous in Sweden, but I didn’t really have an income anymore,” she says. “So I went and I worked in whatever job I could get.” That meant stints at a daycare center and as a nanny, in a jewelry shop and a shoe store, as well as teaching tango, cleaning hotel rooms and waitressing at a Korean restaurant. She eventually landed in a small coastal town named Simrishamn, where she lived with her then-partner and their toddler son, content to be a where-are-they-now celebrity.
When fame again came calling, Ferguson ran away. She was at the flea market when she recognized the acclaimed Swedish director Richard Hobert, and he saw her. As he shouted her name, Ferguson grabbed her son, who lost his shoes and sausage, and fled. “I panicked,” she says. “I don’t know why.” When Hobert eventually caught up to her, Ferguson tried to act nonchalant as he proceeded to tell her he’d admired her work and pitched her on the lead role in his next movie: “I’ve written this role, and I think I have written it for you. Do you want to read the script?”
Her work in Hobert’s A One-Way Trip to Antibes earned her a Rising Star nomination at the Stockholm International Film Festival. She quickly got an agent in Scandinavia, then one in Britain. On her first trip to take meetings in London, she read for the lead in The White Queen, the BBC adaptation of Philippa Gregory’s historical novels about the women behind the Wars of the Roses. Ferguson got the part, and her portrayal of Elizabeth Woodville, queen consort of England, earned her a Golden Globe nomination and the admiration of at least one Hollywood heavyweight.
Ferguson was in the Moroccan desert filming the Lifetime biblical miniseries The Red Tentwhen the assistant director whisked her off her camel. “We’re going to have to pause shooting,” he said as he asked her to dismount. “Tom Cruise wants to meet you for Mission: Impossible. We’re going to fly you off today.”
Cruise had seen Ferguson’s work in The White Queen and her audition tape and couldn’t believe she wasn’t already a major star. “What? Where has this woman been?” Cruise recalls exclaiming to his new Mission: Impossible director Christopher McQuarrie. “She’s incredibly skilled,” Cruise says, “very charismatic, very expressive. As you can tell, the camera loves her.” Ferguson landed a multi-picture deal to star opposite Cruise in the multibillion-dollar franchise. He and McQuarrie built out the role of Ilsa Faust for Ferguson, creating the anti-Bond girl, an equal to Cruise’s Ethan Hunt. “We could just see the impact she could have,” he says. “She’s a dancer. She has great control of her body, of her movements. She has the same ability to move through emotions effortlessly.”
Ferguson threw herself into the films and quickly found a shorthand with the cast and crew. “There was a dynamic that worked very well with all of us,” she says. “One of the things I absolutely love is doing all the stunts.” That physicality has given her a reputation as an action-minded actor. “It doesn’t matter that I’ve done 20 other films where I don’t kick ass,” Ferguson says. “Mission comes with such an enormous following. That was what made my career.”
Ferguson’s M: I movies bracket a number of films in which she played opposite marquee names: Florence Foster Jenkins, with Meryl Streep and Hugh Grant; The Girl on the Train, with Emily Blunt; The Greatest Showman, with Hugh Jackman and Michelle Williams; Life, with Jake Gyllenhaal and Ryan Reynolds; Men in Black: International, with Chris Hemsworth and Tessa Thompson; The Snowman, with Michael Fassbender; Doctor Sleep, with Ewan McGregor. And now Dune, opposite Oscar Isaac, Javier Bardem, Zendaya and Chalamet, whom she calls “one of the best actors, if not the best actor of his generation—of this time.” She was similarly impressed by Zendaya, who plays the native Fremen warrior Chani. “She’s quite raw and naughty and fun,” says Ferguson. “She has an enormous f— off attitude.”
When Ferguson first spoke to Villeneuve about appearing in the movie, “he started telling me about this woman who was a protector, and a mother, and a lover, and a concubine,” she recalls. “I was like, ‘I’m sorry. You want me to play a queen and a bodyguard? And you want me to kick ass and walk regally?’ I was like, ‘Denis, why would I want to do that? That’s the last thing I want to do.’ ”
After the call, Ferguson says, “I went downstairs to my hubby and said, Oh, my God, he’s amazing, but I’m not going to get the job. I just criticized the character.” Ferguson worried she was being cast as a stereotypical “strong female character,” where “it’s constantly, ‘She looks good, and she can kick.’ That is not what I want to portray.”
Ferguson hasn’t always been able to work with collaborators who’ve given her the space to question or opine. “I’ve been bashed down. I’ve been bullied,” she says, though she opts not to say by whom. That was never a concern with Villeneuve, who welcomed her critique. He and his co-writers had already decided from the start to make women the focus of their screenplay adaptation, and he promptly offered her the part.
“I want Lady Jessica to be at the center, the forefront. For me, she’s the architect of the story,” Villeneuve says. “I needed someone who will convey the mystery and the dark side of the film in a very elegant and profound way. Rebecca was everything I was hoping for. She’s so precise. She brought a beautiful, controlled vulnerability—it becomes very visceral on-screen.”
Ferguson vaguely recalls trying to watch the 1984 version of Dune, directed by David Lynch, in her youth, but she fell asleep. And she had never opened Herbert’s novel until being offered the part in the new adaptation. As she dug into the book, she says, she learned that her character was subservient and far more like a concubine, forced to eat alone in her bedroom, not spoken to and not allowed to speak. Ferguson ended up relying primarily on Villeneuve for her research and prep—his notes and comments, his references and the pages in the book he suggested she focus on. “I would feel ignorant not to have read Frank’s book at all,” Ferguson says, though she admits there are parts of the sprawling novel (which Villeneuve is splitting into two films) she’s only skimmed. “I have to finish it.” That will not happen on her upcoming vacation, however. “Absolutely not,” she says “I am surfing.”
By the way, if you saw, I am snaking on the ground, snaking around my room to get good Wi-Fi—it’s not some dance or yoga thing,” Ferguson says. “You have to do that in this old house.” It’s a week and a half after our first meeting, and Ferguson is at her new home, a more than 500-year-old property southwest of London that has, over the years, been home to numerous English Royals. It’s more spartan than stately now. “Empty except for a rock star,” she says, turning her phone’s camera to reveal a framed duotone poster of Mick Jagger that’s leaning against the wall. “We haven’t even started renovating.
Ferguson has returned from her holiday fortified and with renewed confidence, thanks in part to her success on the surfboard. “I went up nearly every time,” she says cheerfully, “but the waves weren’t very high.” She shrugs. “I was proud. I was up. I rode them, not the other way around.”
After years of going with the flow, Ferguson is eager to replicate that sense of control in her career. She values her role as an executive producer on Wool, she says, “because I am, for the first time, a part of it from the beginning.” She relishes weighing in on every aspect, from casting (the show recently added Tim Robbins) to cinematography to her character—which has not always been easy for her. “Why do I feel it’s difficult to speak up? I still battle with these things,” she says. Alluding to those times she was pushed around in the past, Ferguson says, “I was angry, but it was more me getting off at ‘How can I let that happen? Why am I letting myself react this way?’ And I take it with me to the next thing where I go, ‘OK, how do I stop that from happening?’ ”
She is learning that she can ride on top of waves without giving up her agency or maybe just let them break against her. “I want to feel I can go home and think, That was a hard day or that pissed me off—and that’s OK,” Ferguson says, with a nod and tight smile. “Because I still stood there as Rebecca. I didn’t shift.”
#rebecca ferguson#interview#dune interview#mi7 interview#wool interview#tom cruise#denis villeneuve#mission impossible#dune 2021
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I hope you feel better soon! When you're feeling better would you be able to write something about jealous Strife? That ask made me curious
“Do you really have to go?”
From your seat at the vanity, you heave an exasperated sigh and set down your lipstick, swivelling around in the chair to face the Horseman who stands sulking at your bedroom door.
“Strife,” you begin patiently, “I'm afraid my answer still hasn't changed since you asked me ten minutes ago.”
“Yeah, I know. It's just -” Averting his gaze, he crosses his arms and grumbles, “I thought we were gonna hang out tonight.”
“And I told you two weeks ago that I wouldn't be around tonight.”
You can't see his expression, hidden as it is behind the silver helm he wears, but you're fairly confident in guessing that there's a pout on his lips.
“And besides,” you add, “We hang out all the time. You practically live here. Hell, you've already turned my spare bedroom into your own personal den.”
'Den' is an understatement. Your spare room is now less of a bedroom more of an Earth museum, filled from floor to ceiling with all of the things that Strife has picked up simply because they took his fancy. For the most part, it's all junk. There's an obsolete gaming console that no longer works, a skateboard, a horse figurine made of glass, no less than three Nerf guns and not a foam dart between them...
Honestly, you're loathe to tell him to get rid of any of it, though you fear you might have to soon if you don't want the mess spilling out into the rest of your house.
Giving your head an exasperated shake, you check the time on your phone and stand up, throwing your bag over a shoulder. “Listen, it's just one evening with an old friend who I haven't seen since before the apocalypse. We can hang out tomorrow, I promise. But now, I really need to dash, he'll be here to pick me up any minute.”
Pausing to stuff your phone into the pocket of your trousers, you head towards the door, hardly noticing that the Horseman is still standing in front of it with his arms folded neatly across a broad, armoured chest. It's only because you glance up right at the last second that you manage to avoid a painful collision. “Um...Strife?” you ask, halting in your tracks, “... Move?”
In response, he simply leans back against your door and begins to inspect the claws on one of his gauntlets. “Nah... I'd rather hear about this friend of yours. You've never mentioned him.” Pausing, he shoots you a sly smirk that you can sense more than see, his golden eyes flashing, “You guys close?”
With a roll of your eyes, you mimic his posture, crossing your arms and giving him a glare that would make Death proud. “Strife, what's gotten into you? I just said I'm going to be late for my friend.”
“Yeah, I get that,” he returns coolly, “Just wanna know that my friend isn't walking into a trap.”
“Oh wow – a trap? Really? Of all the-” You cut yourself off and raise a hand, massaging at your temple. “Okay. Now you're just being ridiculous. It's not a trap.”
“Why don't you let me come with you, just in case?”
“Because!” you cry, throwing your arms up, “It'll be awkward! You remember what I taught you about third-wheeling?”
He remembers it well, in fact. Just like he remembers everything you teach him, committing the moments to memories that he'll carry with him until the day he snuffs it. He only has you for less than a hundred years, after all, and he's determined to remember every last bit of it. The Universe must have thought itself pretty hilarious when it placed you in his life. Of all the creatures in all the realms, the one he ends up caring about most just so happens to be the one with the shortest lifespan. It makes him want to hunt down the Creator and shoot a hole where a heart might be.
Shoving down his contempt for the omnipotent bastard, Strife returns his attention to you and lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “I don't mind tagging along. You know, just in case I have to watch your back.”
Your response hits him harder than a crack from Fury's whip. “I don't need you to watch my back every second of every day! Stop being so paranoid.”
The Horseman is too proud and obstinate to ever let the stab of hurt show in his eyes, but he can't ignore its presence in his chest.
He is not being paranoid... He's being a good friend - watching your back, looking out for you, all the things a friend is supposed to do. Not that he's had much experience being friends with a human. Or anyone, for that matter, who isn't a horse or his siblings. It's been a learning curve for both of you, though more-so for him, and so far, the most prominent challenge he's faced is balancing the line between being a friend and being an overprotective nuisance.
It perhaps hasn't helped that, ever since humanity was resurrected, the pair of you have been nigh inseparable. He's grown used to your presence – is dependant upon in, according to Death; a fact that Strife had vehemently tried to deny, at least until he learned that you'd made plans. Plans with someone else. Plans that didn't involve him.
It was only once he'd taken some time to reflect and found that he had indeed been glued to your side for months, that he realised the awful truth.
His older brother was right, after all. The smug ass.
A shudder rolls over the Horseman's body and he blinks, realising that in the few seconds he's been lost in thought, you've managed to reach around him to push open your bedroom door.
“Hey!” he complains as you all but shove past, and he – being the soft-touch that he is – simply allows himself to be moved aside. Grumbling, he follows you across the landing and down your sweeping staircase until you reach the front door and stop beside it.
From outside, the thunderous roar of an approaching, automobile's engine thrums in his ears.
“That's him!” you chirp, and Strife hates the way your face lights up at the mention of whoever 'he' is.
Throwing open your door, you head outside and try to pull it shut behind you, yet find your efforts abruptly halted by the Horseman sticking close to your heels. He ducks through the low doorframe and moves to stand beside you, his viciously keen gaze raking over the vehicle that idles at the end of your driveway.
By his own admission, Strife has always had a weakness for those 'motor bikes' the humans like to ride, with their shiny gaskets and noisy engines. But this one – the one upon whom sits a tall, lanky human – Strife does not care for.
“Anton!” you call out, flying down the driveway, splaying your arms out wide in anticipation of a hug.
'Anton' laughs brightly and kicks down the bike's stand as he leaps from the seat, his own arms only just opening in time to receive you when you crash into him with a whoop of delight.
As soon as those long, stringy arms wrap around your shoulders, the Horseman's hackles raise like a feral beast's and the sudden presence of Anarchy begins to claw at the confines of his ribcage. For a few moments, he wrestles with himself, weighing the pros and cons of letting his most primal form take over for a while, but after envisioning the disapproving frown that's sure to adorn your face should he pull such a stunt, he bitterly shoves a reluctant Anarchy back down and settles upon prowling down the gravel drive after you, glaring hard at the stranger the entire way. Admittedly, he is a little surprised at himself for the animosity. On the whole, he's always maintained a good rapport with other humans. He likes the species, a lot. So to suddenly be filled with such a strong disliking for this particular human strikes him as odd and out of character.
Then, Anton's hands slide down to your lower back and another bout of indignant fury flares up in the Horseman's belly. After what he thinks is, quite frankly, an obscene amount of time, the stranger releases you, holding onto your shoulders and leaning back to get a better look at your face.
“God, it's good to see you, Y/n,” he drawls, eyeing you from head to toe in a way that makes the Horseman's skin crawl, “I can't believe it! You've changed so much!”
Grinning shyly up at him, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and reply, “Hopefully for the better?”
His own smile widens. “You were always at your best, even before the apocalypse. Still, being Humanity's Hero seems to be really suiting you, huh?”
At once, your expression falls and you pull a face, extracting yourself from his grasp. “Oh god, don't call me that. I've told the media till I'm blue in the face - the Horsemen are the ones who deserve to be called heroes. Oh, speaking of whom...” You turn to face the looming presence at your side and gesture up to Strife. “I'd like to introduce you to a friend of mine.”
Anton's gaze leaves you long enough to flick over towards the Horseman and you watch as he does a very comical double-take, his eyes bulging for a moment before he manages to compose himself again and lifts his hand in greeting. “Hey! You must be one of those Horseman guys. Death, right?”
Noticing that the Nephilim's hands curl suddenly into tight fists, you interject, “Uh, actually, this is Strife, Tones.”
“Tones?” He really does try to keep the disdain from his voice when he switches his burning, golden glare between you and the other human. “I thought you said his name was Anton?”
How many other friends do you have?
“It's a nickname, Strife,” you reassure him quickly, “This is Anton.”
A nickname... Of course. The Horseman's stomach twists itself into a knot and he can't stop himself from blurting out, “How come you've never given me a nickname?”
The human concept surrounding abbreviated names was a fairly easy one for him to grasp when he first learned of them. They're terms of endearment, meant to signify familiarity and friendship.
He's your friend. He's familiar. Why doesn't he have a nickname too?
"Ugh, I'm sorry. We'll brainstorm nicknames when I get back," you huff, "But the restaurant will give our table away if we don't hurry. So -"
Turning to usher Anton onto the bike, you hardly manage to take one step before a large, metal hand is sliding around your forearm and tugging you gently to a halt. Biting back a groan, you glance over your shoulder, ready to scold him, but one look at his slouched stance and averted gaze stops you in your tracks.
"Uh. Hey, Tones?" you call, never taking your eyes off the Horseman's mask, "Can you give us a sec?"
The human behind you is careful to check that Strife isn't looking when he rolls his eyes and grunts in acknowledgement before he turns and saunters over to his bike, leaning up against it and pulling out his phone.
Once Anton has turned his attention elsewhere, you raise a brow at the Horseman and wait, patient, expectant. After working his jaw for a moment or two, he finally looks at you properly and tightens his grip on your arm, not until it's painful, but enough that you understand what he's trying to convey in the gesture.
He really doesn't want you to go.
"Strife?" you prod.
Reluctantly, he lets out a rough exhale.
Although he's far better at it than his siblings, watching Strife try to openly express emotion isn't unlike watching someone pull their own teeth out with a pair of pliers. The process is slow, and it's best to sit back and listen to him rather than try to encourage him to speak. So, that's what you do, and eventually, your patience is rewarded when after another few seconds of silence, he offers a strained chuckle and says, "This guy isn't my replacement, is he? I know the bike is cool, and all, but..."
"Your replacement?" you laugh, incredulous, "Strife. I don't know how it worked with Nephilim, but for humans, having another friend doesn't cancel out any existing ones."
He knows that. He's not some whelp who never learned how to share. Frustrated with himself, the Horseman huffs and turns his head to the side, glaring hard at nothing in particular.
"Hey..." An old habit kicks in, and before you can stop yourself, you reach up to trace your fingertips along the underside of Strife's helm, tipping it back towards you and smiling at the bewildered look in his yellow eyes. Confident that he's paying proper attention, you pull your hand away again and state, "I could search the whole universe from top to bottom for the next hundred, thousand years, and I'd never find a friend who could replace you, okay? So stop worrying. Your ranking as 'my best friend' is not under threat."
"M'not worrying," he grumbles, but inside, his heart is aglow with the warmth of your words. At the back of his mind, Anarchy rumbles happily. You said best!... He's your best friend? He tries to recall you ever calling him that before. Then he realises that, no, you can't have done. He wouldn't forget a moment like that. Not in a million years. Just like he won't forget how he feels right now after hearing those two words.
Oblivious to the fate you've just sealed for yourself, you clap your hands together, bringing the conversation to what you hope is an easy conclusion. "Good. In that case, will you please let me go with Anton now?"
The Horseman's mood sours almost immediately, but at least he peels his fingers off your arm.
"Hey, kid?" he address Anton, packing his voice with all the menace and threat that he can muster, "If I find out she gets hurt on your watch, I'll introduce you to a couple'a friends of mine..." His hands fall less-than subtly to his holsters, where the silver handles of Mercy and Redemption glint in the sunlight.
Anton's face pales upon seeing the Horseman's legendary pistols.
"Stop that," you scold him, smacking the back of your hand against the armoured chest plate before turning to your other friend and calling, "Come on, Tones, let's go."
Anton all but throws himself onto his bike, kicking the stand back and jamming his keys into the ignition whilst you climb on behind him, albeit far more gracefully. The man tosses you a helmet and you shove it onto your head.
Strife's eyes remain settled upon your hands that wrap snugly around Anton's waist and it takes everything in him not to grab you, haul you off the bike, drag you back to your home and lock you inside.
“I'll be back late tonight,” you call over the roar of the engine as you begin to pull away, “There's food in the fridge if you want to eat! And my Netflix is still logged in! I'll see you later, okay!?”
Strife doesn't respond, not because he can't think of what to say, but because there would be no point. Anton has already peeled away and pushed the bike to a reckless speed. All the Horseman can do is stand there at the end of your driveway, his shoulders drooping dejectedly.
After you're nothing more than a dot on the far horizon, he tears his eyes off you and lets them fall to the tarmac near his boots.
He never notices you looking back.
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What will be in my bag? Pre-ordered Manga. Straight and Lez edition.
Here’s a list of English-released manga I’ve currently got on pre-order, and manga series I ordered before but won’t be continuing with the series.
As a note: Some of these titles have been released but I have not received them yet due to a issues with covid backlog effected how things are released. I personally find that if you pre-order it tends to get you manga quicker. It seems there is more pressure to keep up with the new release schedule than chip away at the backlog.
I’m starting with the stuff I’ve already read some of and confirmed enjoyment, then stuff I’m shooting in the dark for, and finally series I have tried recently and have discontinued.
Heteros
My Androgynous Boyfriend
Story & Art by: Tamekou Publisher: Seven Seas
It is rare for straight shit to end up in my library but My Androgynous boyfriend is an exception that will surprise no-one since it’s pretty queer adjacent. This story is mostly a couple being lovey-dovey between jokes about sexuality and gender but (so far) isn’t problematic at all. The female lead is quite enjoyable as she’s well-balanced and has agency throughout. There’s even ace representation! It’s very low-stakes, wholesome, and sweet so far. (Volume 3 is set to release in November.)
My Excitement Level: The gentle about to sink into a bubble bath variety
Yuri/Lesbian
Even Though We’re Adults
Story & Art by: Takako Shimura Publisher: Seven Seas
Takako is also the creator of Sweet Blue Flowers and Wandering son. I have dipped by toe in to both those series. I overall find their writing kinda meandering and tepid (might just be me) but technically pretty solid. I am hopeful for this series since it features adults....if the title didn’t make it obvious. I was intrigued by the one character being married but the man finding out about the affair quickly and reacting more realistically and interestingly than the average male love interest in a Yuri. I also found myself relating at bit to Akari’s angst about being unlucky with relationships with women. I also do enjoy the artwork! This one is the most likely of my followed series to be dropped at some point. (Volume 2 of this manga was set to release in June this year.)
My Excitement Level: Cautious Optimism
For more click the jump!
Kase-san and Yamada
Story & Art by: Hiromi Takashima Publisher: Seven Seas
This is a series I keep going back to. While it is the very typical low-stakes bubbly, cutesy School age Yuri...it is a very good version of that. Just warm bubble bath vibes. (Volume 7 is set to release in February of next year. I think it was originally supposed to be released this May but was bumped back.)
My Excitement Level: The gentle about to sink into a bubble bath variety
NOW ONTO THE SERIES I HAVEN’T READ BUT I’M TAKING A CHANCE ON!
Adachi and Shimaura
Art: Moke Yuzuhara Story: Hitoma Iruma Publisher: Yen Press
This, as I understand it, is a slow-burn romance about two delinquent girls. I have heard good things about the novel and the anime series! However I prefer manga to novels and don’t have a funimation account so I went to snag it in manga form. (Volume 1 was set to release in February this year and 2 in September)
My Excitement Level: Cautious Optimism
The Girl I want is so handsome!
Story & Art by:Yuama Publisher: Seven Seas
The premise is a young lady has a crush on a handsome older girl who’s oblivious to her advances. When she tries to confess she instead gets roped into being the club manager of the basketball team that her crush is a part of. So it feels like it may end up cycling through 2 jokes and be so deep in the stereotypical manga bullshit you can easily-predict its beats volumes in advance. HOWEVER that is also a premise that is similar to Monthly Girls' Nozaki-kun which is legitimately a hilarious series. Also I fucking love butch/stud/masc-presenting women/AFAB people. So I’m willing to risk “The same Anime bullshit” for good jokes and a cute lezzy romance with a beautiful butch. (Volume 1 is set to release of December of this year.)
My Excitement Level: Pretty nervous actually. I hope it works out!
Monologue Woven for You
Story & Art by: Syu Yasaka Publisher: Seven Seas
A woman gives up on a career in theater gets tangled in a relationship with a woman passionately pursuing theater. Since it is set between college age women, and appears to be about more personal and mature themes I am interested. (Volume 1 I BELIEVE is supposed to be released in February of next year.)
My Excitement Level: Cautious Optimism
Mizuno and Chayama (No page yet so far as I can tell.)
Story & Art by: Yuhta Nishio Publisher: Yen Press
Two daughters of feuding families meet in secret. This is by the same author of After Hours. I read a bit of After Hours and found it fine but boring since it seemed without conflict. Conflict doesn’t seem to be in short supply with a story like this! While I enjoy the sugary-sweet high school lesbian romances...those are not in short-supply. So I am always hungry for something darker, meatier, more mature. (Volume 1 is set to release next February)
My Excitement Level: Cautious Optimism
5 Seconds Before The Witch Falls In Love
Story & Art by: Zeniko Sumiya Publisher: Seven Seas
It appears to be a playful fantasy about a Witch and Witch-hunter who’s antagonism turns romantic. This may end up one note and stupid...but I’m always hear for queer romances set in high-fantasy and I haven’t read a Yuri where rivals turns to lovers. (Volume 1 is set to release next February)
My Excitement Level: Low-key
Catch These Hands! (No page yet so far as I can tell.)
Story & Art by: Murata Publisher: Yen Press
A former delinquent runs into her high school rival. After losing a fight to her she agrees to her terms...her terms being to go out on a date with her. I mean the title alone makes me want to pick it up! It may run afoul of bad anime humor, but I’m hoping with the fact that it’s full of gay adult delinquents that it’ll be a little different. (Volume 1 is set to release next February)
My Excitement Level: Medium-key
Series I have discontinued:
I’m in love with the Villainess
Art by: Aonoshimo Story by: Inori Publisher: Seven Seas
A woman gets reborn into her favorite Otome game but she wants to romance the villiain! I had heard a ton of great things about the novel but I picked up the manga version. (If the novel is totally different I can’t speak to it.) For me, the writing is ham-handed, the jokes flop 90% of the time, and the fact the lead’s only personality trait seems to be ~obsessed with a bully~ really dampens this title. Her advances are so aggressive and unwanted I honestly started feeling bad for a spoiled rich bully. I will say it’s saving grace is the fact that the lead is masochistically into the villainess’ tsundere abusiveness. For me I hate tsundere romances if framed like, “I like you DESPITE your insults.” It is only tolerable if it’s instead, “I like you cause you tell it like it is. I’m a dirty little pig. Please step on this bad little piggy!”
Our Teachers are Dating
Story & Art by: Pikachi Ohi Publisher: Seven Seas
Well one reason I stopped the series is that cover you see up there. The sex in this series is fade to black but FOR SOME REASON the 3rd cover has them both butt naked. But on a less superficial note, the story is about two teachers who start dating. And while cute at points, I was just underwhelmed. I think a part of it, is the fact that this behaves like a stereotypical high school romance...and while set in a high school...these are grown ass women not 15 year olds. So I have less patience with the, “Gosh when will I get to kiss my girlfriend?” bullshit. I mean, I would hesitate to call it bad...but it’s just not a good version of it’s brand of bullshit.
Breath of Flowers
Story & Art by: Caly Publisher: Tokyopop
Absolute train-wreck, this is hands down the worst Yuri I have ever bought. The story is nonsensical and all over the place. There is a love rival who’s trying to break the two of them up so she can get with Gwyn...but then switches mid-gear to put in a lot of effort to bring them together intentionally...but she also still wants to hook up with Gwyn...it’s very ???????????? The main conflict of Gwyn is hiding their gender so they can play basketball on the boy’s team (not well explained) is built up hugely and resolved with a hand flick. There is a melodramatic moment where a school nurse says more or less, “GIVE IT UP YOU’LL NEVER BE A BOY!” And it’s like “OH SHIT! The fact that Gwyn is on the basketball team is cause he’s a transboy trying to live life as a boy! Oh gosh it makes so much more sense now!” But the author seems to not even know that trans people exist cause the story bumbles along as if that scene never happened. The closest we get is at the end Gwyn is like, “Look I’m learning to do make-up on myself to make you happy lawl!” Which is I GUESS supposed to be, “NO NO DON’T WORRY ALL OF GWYN’S GENDER STUFF WAS JUST THERE TO MAKE THE MAIN CHARACTER SEXUALLY CONFUSED WHEN SHE DISCOVERS GWYN’S TRUE GENDER! HER TRUE GENDER IS 100% CIS WOMAN CAUSE SHE DID MAKE-UP ONCE! IT’S FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE!” Like whaaaaaaaaat? And it ends on a very random scene which doesn’t really fit in with the rest of the story. Ugh just very bad do not interact!
A White Rose in Bloom
Story & Art by: Asumiko Nakamura Publisher: Seven Seas
At an all girls catholic school a young woman falls for a mysterious foreign student. I grabbed this cause it’s gay and I overall like Asumiko Nakamura’s work (she also does Doukyusei, double mints, and others.) However I was just not grabbed with this title. I just felt like I wasn’t getting what was making the MC pants on head obsessed with Steph. Also the lead’s mother tells her that she’s getting divorced and therefore will no longer have money to pay for the university and she’s framed like a super bad person for this. Like I get why the MC (a teenager) would think that something like that is THE END OF THE WORLD! But I remember them really framing the mom like a selfish bitch for this...when like...it’s well established that her mom and dad’s relationship has been toxic for YEARS and that they TRIED SO HARD to fix it. OH WELL! This might be good but it just didn’t grab me in the 1st volume.
I’ll make a post on the BL titles later! Take care and Stay Rotten!
#preorder#my androgynous boyfriend#kase-san and yamada#even though we're adults#Adachi and Shimaura#the girl I want is so handsome#white rose in bloom#our teachers are dating#breath of flowers#catch these hands#I'm in love with the villainess#Mizuno and Chayama#monologue woven for you#5 seconds before the witch falls in love
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i saw and i miss that universe, demon!reader my beloved 🥰 it’s honestly such a good universe and i still laugh at human!ranboo just going with demon!reader’s shit and thy in turn help him to pretend he’s some kind of cryptid to wind up his friends (mainly tommy) and the fans. and ugH. Just. their interactions kinda brain rot. i’m in a type of mood for overprotective stuff so the idea of demon!reader having to protect ranboo when they’re being shits together because whoops this kind of hellhound isn’t good for humans and i’ve already told the others thst ive had you for two days and i’d kill anyone who hurts you and then Myself™️. i am slightly sleep deprived but brain go brr and i’m ready-reading stuff now 🥺-🐈⬛
I love the idea of human!Ranboo and demon!reader having interactions on twitter, and mutual friends, and like, would definitely consider each other friends, but for the longest time their schedules never align to actually properly meet each other online, so the reader initially definitely believes he is a cryptid, and ranboo knows that the reader is a talented musician and incredibly successful and yeah they can be chaotic but he doesn't believe half the things people say about them because that can't actually be something they said, right?
meanwhile the first vc they're ever in together, ranboo joins right as the reader and quackity are arguing at the top of their lungs about which of them was more likely to shelve the world's tiniest violin - ("Okay but I can almost guarantee whoever currently owns the world's tiniest violin is more likely to give it to me than to you -!" / "Not if I learn how to make a violin so I can make the world's tiniest violin -!" / "It'll be the world's second tiniest violin because the tiniest violin will be up my ass, Quackity, and then you can play your shit second-smallest violin because you lost.") to which Ranboo is like WTF is this and Tommy explains how you'd complained about being tired and Quackity played a clip of a sad violin and told you he was playing you the world's tiniest violin, and you told him where he could shove the world's tiniest violin, and well, it all went downhill from there... which is about the time when ranboo realises that YES you are successful and talented, but you're also chaotic as all fuck and all the stories are true.
okay but why do i love the idea of q & reader's potential friendship being such a strange dynamic, like they genuinely get along very very well and really like each other as people, HOWEVER they have a very stupid bit which they somehow managed to come up with without ever really talking about it, which is that if anyone asks an opinion-based question, the reader and quackity will immediately have passionate and opposing opinions that they will loudly defend.
eg. Dream, knowing about these dumbasses and feeling like there was too much of a lull in the conversation: What's the worst multiple of 4? Phil, exhausted already: come on man - Quackity, immediately with his whole chest: 12 Reader: I knew you were stupid, but Jesus Fucking Christ, dude, 12? You really going to say that when 48 exists?
but also reader being all fond on stream when they talk about how much they've been enjoying writing music with Q, and how they think it's so cool that he's studying law, and generally hyping him up when chat brings him up. and if they find themselves on line at strange hours at the same time they'll have an impromptu hang out and we get a sweet, acoustic snippet of Sing-Along-Song with q on guitar, and q ends up rambling about the reader being a talented song writer and content creator and it's all just v :) :) :)
but jumping back to ranboo and the reader, i love the idea of a genre of tweet from Tommyinnit known as 'places ranboo is sometimes' which consists of screen shots of messages between ranboo and tommy, with a selfie from ranboo somewhere he definitely shouldn't be, like up tall trees, or sitting on top of the london eye (for only a few moments, enough time to take a selfie), or on a solitary rock in the middle of a lake while he's somehow completely dry, and tommy always responds with a very unflattering, bewildered selfie.
-- okay but, the idea of the reader and wilbur hanging out with the bench trio and, like, tommy's vlogging or something, and near the end of the day as its starting to get dark and they're trying to head home, they start to get approached by people with Bad Vibes, you know. and the kids and wilbur and the reader just wanna get away and not be hassled, but one of the assholes realises he kinda recognises them and won't let them be, and between the kids Tommy is the only one with like, an offensive supernatural capabilities but he's also a good kid and doesn't want to hurt anyone even if they're an asshole and he's trying to do the right thing and just ignore it. but also wilbur and the reader put themselves between the kids and the assholes, and are trying to set a good example. until 'hey i know you, aren't you some kind of siren?' accompanied by a mocking laugh, and a something hits the back of the reader's head, just a little piece of litter but still. and the kids are each trying to formulate some sort of plan to protect the reader, who's stopped dead and is not longer willing to put up with this shit.
"kindly fuck off," the reader turns and finally faces the assholes. behind them, wilbur is standing in front of the boys. his hands are glowing.
"what's a little siren going to do? you're the type to carry around fancy cameras and act like you've got a chip on your shoulder, until something bigger and scarier than you comes along -"
"i wouldn't know what a siren would do because I'm Not A Siren, so I'm going to ask you once more to fuck off," the way your eyes go black scares the shit out of them, the way your tail flicks menacingly is enough to have them stepping back; some are humans, some are supernatural, none of them pose any real threat.
as the assholes scatter, you turn back, and see the intensity in wilbur's eyes and the subtle hand movement's he's making, and you give him a tired, grateful smile.
"shoulda taken a taxi, sorry guys."
"What The Fuck Was That, Guys, What The Fuck?" Tommy, trying not to freak out about what just happened because yeah You and Wilbur kind of have vibes of being more powerful/capable than you appear but seeing it in action is a whole other thing.
so of course the only thing you can think of to do is put on a Godfather-esque accent and act as if you're a mafia boss promising them protection as long as they're with you. it lightens the mood considerably, but all three of the boys seem to look at you and wilbur in a different, kind of grateful light every once in a while, though they never bring it up again.
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This is a collection of my favourite canonverse fanfiction. I actually started reading bellarke fanfiction last year when season 6 premiered so a lot of the fanfics you see are old and popular within fandom. Nevertheless, I love them and they deserve the recognition for how awesome they are. 😊 I went through my bookmarks twice and I am sure I still missed some, but this is getting really big and has now taken me so long to compile so this is the list. I’ll update it once the show is over. For now though, enjoy!
To all the writers, thank you for your beautiful works! I appreciate you so much! 💖
Most are one shots because that is just my preference for format. Some fanfics are within the universe, but not part of canon (e.g. Ark AUs) so I have put at at the bottom under Canonverse AUs. I tried to list them in order of time in canon but some were difficult to classify.
One more thing, this is a Bellarke fic rec. If it was a general the 100 fic rec, this would include some great non-ship fics I’ve read or other ships. I might do a mini fic rec with those. (Also, I’ll probably post a big AUs fic rec, because my true love is AUs and i have read some masterpieces everyone needs to read!)
With that I am done. I hope you enjoy my collection and please don’t forget to show all these amazing fanfic writers some love - give kudos, bookmark, comment! Let’s support our content creators! 💖
Single Chapter
Inconceivable by @johnnyjaqobis
Explicit | 8,798 words
Bellamy and Clarke have to perform a ritual to seal a grounder aliance. It’s unconventional.
Just the Beating of Our Hearts by @hiddenpolkadots
General Audiences | Fluff | 4,683 words
He leans into it, tilting his body towards her where she still stands between his legs, and they’re so, so close, breathing in each other’s air before his eyes flick up to meet her gaze and then— Abby opens the door and steps out of the supply closet. “Clarke.”
or, 3 times Bellamy gets hurt and one time he isn’t.
Strong as an ox by @wellsjahasghost
Season 1 | Teen and Up | 5,399 words
Clarke tries to rescue Bellamy from some Grounders holding him captive, but things don’t go quite as planned
Here we go Season 1 The line between love and lust does not exist.
Meet me in the Morning by @argyledpenguin
1x03 | Explicit |Time Loop AU | 25,375 words
“I guess one of us is messed up,” he said, “and it’s part of our hallucination that the other is, too.” He paused. “Seems appropriately hellish that my mind sticks me with you.” She pursed her lips. “Likewise.” Clarke is trapped in a stupid time loop, and guess who’s trapped with her?
Sing the rage of Peleus’ son Achilles by @viansian
Season 1 | Mature | Angst | 10,858 words
“I have spent my entire life afraid of men thought to be gods,” he finally says. “I’ll tell you a secret, princess: these men? The ones who claim to be deities? Their blood isn’t ichor. They bleed red like the rest of us, and sometimes they need to be reminded of that.” or Clarke is abducted by the grounders. Bellamy freaks out.
and just as the sun chases after the moon (i will always chase after you) by @viansian
Post season 1 | Teen and Up | 12,013 words
He had once gone into hell for Octavia. He wonders at what point he had begun to love Clarke as much as his sister.
In the Silence Between Worlds (that’s where I’ll find you) by @viansian
Season 2 | General Audiences | Fluff | 12,647 words
It’s a goddamn tragedy that both of them could be so incredibly in love with each other and yet neither could notice it.
aka everyone knows Bellamy and Clarke are in love except for Bellamy and Clarke.
I loved him first by emmaofmisthaven
Season 2 | Teen and Up | Unrequited Love | 1,306 words
Clarke is missing and Bellamy is going after her. From Octavia’s POV.
Eight Minutes Against a Tree by @cupcakesandtv
Season 2 | Explicit | 2,320 words
Clarke and Bellamy use each other to relieve tension.
The Mating Habits of the Earthbound Sky Person by @ponyregrets
Season 2 | General Audiences | Fluff | 2,320 words
Clarke and Bellamy don’t know how to relationship.
Here be Dragons by ms_scarlet
Post 2x08-2x09 | General Audiences | Hurt/Comfort | 1,121 words
“Well, here we are.” She gestures towards the space beyond the electrified wire in front of them. “We fell from space only to find a pit full of monsters except they didn’t warn us that we’d find them in ourselves.”
All You Have is Your Fire by @hawthornewhisperer
Post 2x09 | Teen and Up | Angst | 2,402 words
Bellamy didn’t think he could survive Mount Weather. But he did, and somehow the aftermath is almost worse.
Do you look like me? Do you feel like me? by heroic
Post 2x16 | Teen and Up | 511 words
There are some selfish wants Clarke will not allow herself, even when everything is dirt with decomposing bodies.
Gifts by winterwaters
Post season 2 | Teen and Up | Fluff | 4,154 words
Bellarke are at a grounder festival. Clarke is pretty and Bellamy is flustered. Fluff.
What We Have to Do by ms_scarlet
Post season 2 | Teen and Up | Hurt/Comfort | 4,910 words
As the air turned cooler, the forest burst into color and the leaves started to fall, and all Bellamy saw was death and decay. He realized that Clarke had been gone longer than he’d known her. He’d lived most of his life without knowing her, so it didn’t seem like it should be such a striking realization, but crashing to Earth was such a cataclysmic event, he realized he’d been thinking of it as a new life beginning and now she’d been out of it longer than she was there.
This One’s for the Faithless by @argyledpenguin
Post season 2 | Explicit | Angst | 22,645 words
“He couldn’t worry about her, about how she’d fare, and whether she’d find her way home eventually, or make a home with strangers, learning to forget the friends she’d killed for. He needed to worry about those friends, to look after their people like she’d asked him to. “She doesn’t need us to go after her,” Raven said. “She knows how to survive.” They’d trust her to return when she was ready, and to look after herself in the meantime.”
who cares if we're trashed by @probably-voldemort
Season 3 | Teen and Up | Fluff | 2,180 words
"Propose to Bellamy." Murphy said it like it was easy, like she wasn't drunk off her ass, like she wasn't hopelessly in love with him. "Unless you're chicken."
The End Where We Begin by katebishoop
Pre 3x06 | Teen and Up | Kid fic | 10,553
Clarke and Bellamy are tired of war and bloodshed. So they run.
Hungry Hearts by @insideimfeelinpurrdy
Post 3x16 | Explicit | Hurt/Comfort | 5,663 words
We all swallow lies when our hearts are hungry.
Field Medicine by storyskein
Post season 3 | Teen and Up | Fluff | 3,558 words
Clarke decides that Bellamy needs to learn first-aid because his bandage wrapping technique is pitiful.
I’ve Got You Here by ms_scarlet
Post Season 3 | Explicit | Hurt/Comfort | 18,383 words
“Here.” He thrusts one of the cups at her and she sets the rake aside to accept it. “You owe me a drink.”
Five Years Later by storyskein
Post Season 3 | Explicit | Fluff | 6,845 words
Five years later, and everything is finally right
To the Order of Night by storyskein
Post season 3 | Teen and Up | Fluff | 2,620 words
Bellamy and Clarke hang out after a long day of preparing for Arkadia’s exodus. Drinking, poker, and cuddling ensue.
Soap by @verbam
Post Season 3 | Teen and Up | 3,571 words
Perhaps because of the late hour, or the heat limiting most duties to half day shifts, the hammam is surprisingly empty when they reach it, their voices going hushed in the echoing room. Clarke realizes as she glances at Bellamy that they’ve never been entirely alone here together. They’ve rinsed off here together before, but that’s easier when they’re surrounded by their friends: Bellamy distracted by Brian snapping a towel at him and Jasper splashing everyone in cold water. Clarke tends to sit with Raven, stretching their legs out on the warmed metal after they’ve scrubbed down and enjoying the steam and hubbub of Arkadians around them.
Right Within Your Heart (This is How It Starts) by @prosciuttoe
Post Season 3 | Teen and Up | Fluff | 6,270 words
Bellamy has never had a enjoyable Christmas. Clarke seeks to rectify that.
Cold Bones by @insideimfeelinpurrdy
Season 4 | Explicit | Major Character Death | tw: depression | 4,152 words
The world dies screaming, protesting violently at every turn, fighting for survival. He dies silently, whispering reassurances into the radio, walking fast and with purpose but without hope. The apocalypse can’t be stopped, and there aren’t enough lifeboats. Bellamy decides to take himself out of the equation.
if it was safer underground, we wouldn’t be on a boat by heroic
Season 4 | Teen and Up | 1,005 words
Did you feel it, too? Clarke wants to go back and ask, lean herself against the bark and look at Bellamy in the night. Do you miss this too, when everything hurt and we still thought we could be better than we are?
And If My Heart Should Stop by @octannibal-blake
4x06 | Teen and Up | Fluff | 1,905 words
The one where bellamy decides it’s time to tell Clarke how he feels.
Whenever the End by @sometimesrosy
4x11 | Mature | 2,173 words
It’s the night before the conclave and the end of the world is nigh. Clarke and Bellamy needs to sleep and Clarke convinces him to share her bed. But waking up in his arms crosses the distance they’ve kept between them.
How I learned to stop worrying and love the apocalypse by @kindclaws
4x12-13 | Explicit | Time Loop AU, Exes to Lovers | 16,407 words
Bellamy and Clarke keep reliving the last few hours before Pramfaya.
Just enough, but not enough by @rycewritestrash
Post Seaosn 4 | Teen and Up | Fluff | 1,173 words
They’re leaning against the rover, sharing an apple, back and forth, discussing their plans for the day when Bellamy says, “We should get married,” in the same tone he’d use if they were talking about what’s for dinner.
The Silence by @sometimesrosy
Season 5 | Teen and Up | Reunion fic | 5,872 words
Clarke and Madi stumble upon spacekru, finally returned. Everyone greets her, except Bellamy.
Think of Me as Time of Day by @octannibal-blake
Season 5 | Teen and Up | Reunion fic | 5,872 words
Three times Bellamy misses Clarke and one time he doesn’t have to.
You’re Just Another Recovering Heart by @prosciuttoe
Season 5 | Mature | Pining | 10,814 words
Bellamy gets into the habit of writing letters to the girl he left behind in the six years they’re apart. But as it turns out, Clarke’s alive, and she’s read them. Or: the fallout of a love confession six years in the making.
Forty Yards by @the-most-beautiful-broom
Season 5 | Teen and Up | Angst | 3,825 words
Bellamy and Clarke are caught in the crossfire of an Eligius/Wonkru battle, and in the fury of it all, Bellamy refuses to leave Clarke behind.
I’m so fucking happy you’re alive/swear to god I’m down if you’re down by heroic
5x13 | General Audiences | 679 words
He wants to go back there, to press his hands against the bare skin of her back, to breathe her in.
I Feel Like We're as Close as Strangers by @eyessharpweaponshot
Season 5 | Explicit | Angst | 7,277 words
“This isn’t about Madi," Bellamy tells her, voice even and certain. "It isn’t about me leaving you on Earth." Clarke’s expression is steel but he can read the discomfort off her a mile away. She’s holding her arms too tightly, her teeth clenched like she’s said too much. "This is about Echo." Even though he knows it is, his heart is still belting in his chest while he waits for a response. The knowledge is overwhelming - because if this is about Echo, it means Clarke might…she might… "Why would this be about Echo?" Clarke says blankly, like she’s bored - like he’s way off the mark. He’s not. "You tell me."
Astra inclinant by @hermesmultivitamins
Post season 5 | Not Rater | Sharing A Bed | 1,814 words
The inevitability of Clarke and Bellamy is obvious to everyone except themselves. Or, the story of how it took 130 years and two planets for Clarke and Bellamy to realize what everyone else already knew.
Do You Feel the Way We’re Falling out of Touch? by @eyessharpweaponshot
Season 6 | Explicit | Time Loop AU, Angst | 13,279 words
Clarke and Bellamy are over and he has moved on, it’s just something Clarke has to accept. They have a job to do and that’s what is important now. They spend the entire day at odds with one another, being distant and lying about their true feelings. When they’re stuck in a time loop because of their inability to be honest though, it’s time to start admitting some things - and it turns out to be a little harder than expected.
Bad Moon Rising by @bettsfic
6x02 | Teen and Up | Angst, Hurt/Comfort | 1,700 words
Afterglow by @queenginnys
Post 6x10 | Teen and Up | Love Confessions | 1,085 words
Bellamy and Clarke have a lot to discuss after Clarke survives Josephine.
Sick of Losing Soulmates by @pawprinterfanfic
Post 6x10 | Teen and Up | Hurt/Comfort | 4,884 words
Clarke and Bellamy talk after the events at Gabriel's. After almost losing her again, Bellamy intends to not let emotions go unspoken.
Our Own Stars by bellofthetolppl
Season 6 | General Audiences | Angst | 3,477 words
Bellamy gets hurt when he tries to find Octavia after she disappeared in the Anomaly and once Clarke finds out, she goes crazy. Kind of like 6x10 but the roles are reversed and she's worried sick about him.
feet on the ground, head in the sky by fathomless
Season 6 | General Audiences | Hurt/Comfort | 2,547 words
three times Bellamy kissed Clarke's forehead and one time she kissed his.
Like Being Submerged in Your Contradictions by WelpThisIsHappening
Season 6 | Explicit | Fluff | 4,491 words
She supposes she's not surprised.
Clarke probably should have expected it. After all, her romantic track record is not really all that impressive. But. She hoped. And to say that she's a little disappointed to find out sex with Bellamy is not as great as she wanted it to be is an understatement.
So now he wants to talk about it. Figures.
The House Don't Fall When the Bones Are Good by @ponyregrets
Post Canon | Teen and Up | Afterlife | Crossover with The Good Place | 6,019 words
Clarke wakes up and has a conversation with a man wearing a bowtie.
We Burned Bright by @marauders-groupie
Mature
Collection of canon-compliant drabbles
Multichapter
Small Favours by @kay-emm-gee
8 chapters | Season 1 | Teen and Up | Fluff | 24,203 words
Small favors born out of sheer necessity (part I, part II) forge a unique intimacy (part III, part IV, part V, part VI) that brings forth intense chemistry (part VII, part VIII).
Or, how Bellamy & Clarke take their time falling in love.
Survivor’s guilt by @wellsjahasghost
4 chapters | Post season 3 | Explicit | Angst, Kid fic | 102,671 words
“There’s no one else to live for anymore.” Clarke utters those words without too much emotion. They’ve had time over the years to reflect on all the people ripped away from their lives. It’s no longer a fierce, stabbing pain, just a kind of endless ache that surges and subsides with every breath they take. After all their efforts, they failed. The story of the SkaiKru would die with them. “We’re the last of our people.”
Bellamy finally looks up at her tone of voice and after a pause he says, slowly, “We don’t have to be.”
Hold me Still by bellofthetolppl
9 chapters | Season 4 | General Audiences | Angst | 45,863 words
“I can’t see, what’s happening to me?” or Bellamy is blinded in an accident.
The Twelfth Level by @jemleofan
13 chapters | Canon-compliant until 4x03 | Explicit | 62,085 words
The death wave is rapidly approaching. Clarke and Bellamy make a startling discovery: Cadogan’s cult has survived underground and is willing to shelter Skaikru from the impending disaster. But at what price?
This one’s for you by @andthelightbulbclicks
48 Chapters | Post season 4 | Slow Burn | 60,535 words
Ficlets glimpsing at those 2,199 days, and after…
The Price of Peace by @chase-the-windandtouch-the-sky
18 chapters | Season 6 | Teen and Up | Angst, Hurt/Comfort | 11,0987 words
Upon landing in the new world, it seemed like humanity finally had a chance at peace. When suddenly something is taken from them, Bellamy and crew must find a way to navigate this new world when it feels like it’s falling apart.
Bury A Friend, Try To Wake Up by @talistheintrovert
7 chapter | Teen and Up | Angst | 75,289 word
A few weeks after settling in to the new planet, Clarke seems to be acting strangely. Almost like she's two different people. Bellamy is determined to get to the bottom of it.
Canonverse AUs
Single Chapter
Winners Don’t Always Get Lucky Breaks by @cupcakesandtv
Explicit | Ark AU, Arranged Marriage, Domestic Bellarke | 23,501 words
Bellamy and Clarke are roped into Abby’s political games and have to get married.
Just as You Are Mine by @prosciuttoe
Explicit | Arranged Marriage AU, Grounder!Bellamy | 23,637 words
In hindsight, marrying a total stranger may not have been one of Clarke’s brightest ideas. (Clarke seals an alliance with the Broadleaf clan by marrying Bellamy Blake.)
Darkest of marks by @important-metaphors
Explicit | Ark AU, Angst | 21,162 words
After Jake Griffin’s prediction about the system failure turns out to be wrong, Clarke is given a second chance on the Ark. Janitor Bellamy Blake may or may not complicate everything for her.
Shadows Run From Yesterday by @important-metaphors
Explicit | Ark AU | 14,053 words
Thirteen nations have operational space stations at the time of the bombs and Clarke Griffin is among the survivors. When she loses those dearest to her, she finds an ally in the person she least expects.
In My House on the Hill (there is room for you still) by @argyledpenguin
Explicit | Ark AU, Angst | 24,066 words
“There were nights when the clinic was busy, forcing Clarke to scarf down a snack in between patients. But those nights were rare. Usually, there was time to take a break for lunch, to sketch for an hour, to talk to Bellamy, or to try to. It turned out that Bellamy wasn’t a talker. Or a friendly, pleasant person in general. But she got used to it. To him.” Clarke meets Bellamy on the ark.
Multichapter
How You Stay Alive by @wellsjahasghost
3 chapters | Explicit | Reincarnation AU | 88,303 words
You and him will live again by my hand. But whether you fall in love again is entirely up to you.” Nine lifetimes where Clarke and Bellamy meet again, and again, and again.
In his heart of hearts by @bilexualclarke
2 chapters | Explicit | Ark AU, Enemies to Friends to Lovers | 12,808 words
She looks at him expectantly when he walks in, daring him to say something. His interactions with Clarke since their first day have consisted of “hello” “goodbye” and the occasional glare when he scoffs at something corny she says to a patient. But right now, he can’t help but take the bait. “Mommy pull some strings for you, Princess?” Clarke deflates a bit, and for a second it dawns on him that maybe she was waiting for him to congratulate her? But then, “Go fuck yourself.”
Bound by the secrets we share by troubledpancakes
4 chapters | Explicit | Ark AU | 48,523 words
Ninety-seven years ago, a nuclear apocalypse rendered planet Earth unlivable, leaving only the four-hundred people on the twelve space stations as its survivors. Over three generations, these twelve nations joined together to form the unified Ark Station. To preserve the human race, the leaders of the Ark implemented strict measures including: capital punishment for anyone over the age of eighteen, a ration system based on job placement, and the arrangement of marriages based on genetic compatibility. If the human race was to return to Earth, it had to be strong to survive. Clarke Griffin turned eighteen and celebrated her birthday with a marriage ceremony.
#poppy's bellarke canonverse masterlist#fic rec#bellarke#bellarke fanfiction#bellarke fanfic#bellamy x clarke#clarke and bellamy#the 100 fanfiction#bellarke fic
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Villainous Tunes
Item #6 of the Scavenger Hunt 2020: Pick five villains from the James Bond universe. What songs do they use for a dramatic entrance?
Dr. Julius No
No by Meghan Trainor
My name is no
My sign is no
My number is no
You need to let it go
You need to let it go
Need to let it go
Nah to the ah to the, no, no, no
As our esteemed colleague's name suggests, Dr No's favourite word is... no. From refusing to speak under torture (why would he go all the trouble to steal coin from the Tongs only to tell them where he has hidden it?) to getting rejected by superpowers who couldn't see his genius (US and Soviet Union, I'm looking at you), the only constant in his life has been that tiny, magic word that can either bring to life relief, despair, anger - all the emotions on the human emotive spectrum. This is a villain who wants to be left alone in peace to do his thing, winning himself the title of SPECTRE Most Reclusive Villain To Ever Do Villainy.
Le Chiffre
Bitch Better Have My Money by Rihanna
Bitch better have my money!
Y'all should know me well enough
Bitch better have my money!
Please don't call me on my bluff
Pay me what you owe me
Die Nummer, Mr Number, Herr Ziffer, The Number, The Numeral, The Figure, The Cipher, The Code... you get the gist! Le Chiffre is known for one thing and one thing only: he makes the coin go around in the villainous world and you better have the money you owe him because otherwise he will bust your balls (literally, ask a certain 007 for confirmation) for putting his ass on the line. Despite his villainous ties, Le Chiffre considers himself to be a stateless man with no real allegiance: he follows the money trail, gambling for his life here and there, in order to get to the grand prize - afterall, money might not make a man happy but cash sure does help a long way and have you seen his suits? This man is high maintenance.
Dominic Greene
Coup d'ètat by G-Dragon ft Baauer, Diplo
The revolution will not be televised
The revolution is in your mind
The revolution is here
This is my coup d'etat
Do you need a government overthrown? Everybody knows that Dominic Greene is the man for the job - suspended in a limbo made up of shadows and intrigue, this apparently unassuming guy who hides behind his eco-green company has all the necessary connections to seize a government and overthrow it in the blink of an eye. Sophistication is his second name, you won't see him doing anything as crass as exchanging information in a dumpster: you'll get an invitation to his yacht where you'll be plied with champagne, hors d'oeuvres, company that's already been paid for and if things go bad... well, the sharks will be happy for the free meal courtesy of Quantum.
Max Denbigh
Drones by MUSE
Your mind is just a program
And I'm the virus
I'm changing the station
I'll improve your thresholds
I'll turn you into a super drone (super drone)
And you will kill on my command
And I won't be responsible
A specialist at infiltration, C has reached the highest levels and gotten his ass sat on a nice, plush chair at the JIS - the Joint Intelligence Services which, in case you missed the villainous newsletter sent out bi-monthly by SPECTRE, he is the head of. Creator of Nine Eyes, Glorious Vanquisher of the Double-Oh Section and King of Insults (M stands for "moron", afterall ¯\_(ツ)_/¯), Max Denbigh has the world at his fingertips and he is not wary of using violence when needed to make some people change their silly opinions. All done very tastefully, of course: he tells SPECTRE what needs to be done and the agency puts agents on the target because C will not dirty his own hands - manicures are expensive, don't you all know that?
Raoul Silva
Mama by My Chemical Romance
Mama, we're all full of lies
Mama, we're meant for the flies
And right now they're building a coffin your size
Mama, we're all full of lies
Think on your sins. Raoul Silva is the embodiment of revenge, wrapped up in silk and sugary rum - the memento for anyone out there that the line between do-gooders and villains is a very thin one, easily broken by betrayal. Island lover, bursting with mommy issues(TM) and with a thing for men who could break a gun in a half with bare hands (or destroy a 9 million pounds worth car with a flick of his wrist), Raoul Silva terrorises the world with his hacking skills far superior to those of the Quartermaster (especially that of young, spotty ones who should know better than plugging an enemy's laptop to the mainframe) and his thirst for revenge which can only be sated by blood spilled beneath his fingers.
+ Bonus Villain: sunaddicted
Sunburn by MUSE
She burns like the sun, and I can't look away
She'll burn our horizons, make no mistake
This is simply because I'm a villain and I deserve my own villainous tune duh. Resident Villains Lover, Angst Provider and Token Italian of the Fandom, I'm here to make you tremble at the sight of my fanfictions tags *insert evil laugh here*
#007 fest 2020#007 fest#teambondvillains#2020 headcanon#2020 other creations#scavenger hunt 2020#villain day#raoul silva#tiago rodriguez#dominic greene#dr julius no#dr no#max denbigh#c#le chiffre#sunaddicted#bond villains#songs#music
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: DCU, Batman - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Dick Grayson, Slade Wilson, Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, Tim Drake Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, SladeRobinWeek 2020, Day 2: Merfolk, I know nothing about boats, and you can tell, ambiguous ending Series: Part 2 of SladeRobin Week 2020 Summary:
'“Deathstroke,” Bruce said finally.
“What?”
“That’s what he’s called. Or at least what we call him anyway.”
Dick’s head was swimming. He’d heard of mers being given names before, usually old mers who showed up in the same places over and over. But he’d never heard of Deathstroke.'
For the SladeRobin Week prompt Merfolk.
Dick had seen mer before. It was pretty unavoidable when you spent as much time on the ocean as Dick did. Most sailors didn’t particularly care for mers. They were inquisitive, smart creatures that enjoyed interacting with humans, but this often led to mishaps. Mers had been known to grab things off of ships, to tangle rudders and even sink smaller boats. They never hurt anyone on purpose, as far as they were aware, but often they couldn’t help it.
Dick had never really had a problem with them. In fact, he quite liked the mer. He liked to watch them streak through the water beside the ship, playing in the surf, breaching the water with a flick of their powerful tails. He liked listening to their curious chitters, and on rare occasions, the beautiful sound of their songs.
He never tried to interact with them though. That was always a recipe for disaster. Bruce had told him once about a young crewmate who had reached out to touch a mer’s tail and instead had been dragged into the water by the creature. According to Bruce, it had looked like the mer had only wanted to play, chittering excitedly as the crew desperately tried to pull him back on board. It had let him go once he had drowned, perhaps no longer interested once he had stopped moving, and they had managed to drag his body back onto the ship.
Bruce told the story often, not to incite violence against the mers, but as a cautionary tale. They were wild creatures, and though they looked like humans, they were not. They were something else entirely, and they were dangerous. You were better off leaving them alone.
Dick had been a crewmate on Bruce’s ship ever since his own parents had been murdered by pirates when he was eight. Bruce had taken him in, given him a job, and saved his life. He’d been sailing with him ever since, and in all that time, he’d never forgotten Bruce’s warning.
So when he saw the mer, floating quietly a little ways away from Dick’s post, he’d simply watched, curious. The mer was huge, easily the biggest one he’d ever seen, with a thick tail covered in gleaming orange and black scales. He was drifting on his back, white hair fanned out around his head, and Dick realised that he was missing an eye, thick scars a tangled mess over the socket. The mer was watching him too, gaze sharp as he lazily kept pace with the ship.
Dick was tempted to call someone over, maybe Jason or Tim, so that they could see the mer too, but something stopped him. Most mers tended to hang out in pods. They were incredibly social, and those that were alone tended not to draw attention to themselves, keeping away from boats and humans.
This mer was definitely not in a pod, or at least, hadn’t brought his pod with him to check out their ship. Dick slunk closer, leaning his elbows on the edge of the ship so he could try to get a better look. The mer tilted his head, turning over slowly to swim a little closer.
“What are you doing alone out here?” Dick murmured. The mer couldn’t understand him. They mostly communicated through chitters and clicks, and occasionally, wordless songs that carried across the salt air.
The mer made a strange clicking noise in his throat, and splashed his tail a little. Dick grinned, and the mer tilted his head, before peeling his lips back in an imitation of a smile, showing a row of sharp, deadly teeth.
“Yo Dickface! Get over here!” Jason’s shout obviously startled the mer, because with a flick of his tail, he dived beneath the dark waters, disappearing from view. Dick was a little disappointed, scanning the waves for any sign of it before giving up with a sigh, and going to see what Jason wanted.
*
He’d forgotten all about the mer by the next time he saw it. Orange flashes had caught his attention, bringing him over to the edge of the ship to peer into the frothing waters. The mer poked his head up, and Dick almost fell back on his ass, letting out a surprised laugh. The mer grinned at him, rolling over to float on his back, tail twitching.
“Hello again,” Dick said softly, pleased for a reason that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. The mer chittered back at him, eye half closing, face turning towards the afternoon sun. Dick watched him for a long moment as the mer sunbathed, examining the pattern of his scales, and the litter of scars that were dotted across the mer’s torso.
“You’re a fighter hm,” Dick said. Mers often got involved in territorial disputes so it wasn’t unusual to see scars, but this many? Dick couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. Had he been forced from his pod? Bullied? Hunted? Were those scars from other mers, or humans?
There were people who would kill a mer. Either to protect their ship, or to prevent them from overfishing certain areas, or for their meat and scales, or even simply because they found them annoying. Dick had always found it distasteful. Mers were intelligent, beautiful creatures, and the thought that some people would kill them simply because they got in the way, left a bitter taste in his mouth.
The mer seemed to sense his souring mood, because he sunk a little in the water, tail flicking in agitation. He chittered loudly and splashed a little, and Dick stepped back enough to avoid getting sprayed.
“Wow look at that thing.”
Dick had been so distracted, that he hadn’t noticed Jason coming up behind him. He spun around, the insane urge to hide the mer from view making him step in front of Jason.
“What are you doing here?”
Jason gave him a look, like Dick had grown an extra head. “I’m doing my job. Obviously you have more important things to be doing.”
Jason leaned over to get a better look at the mer, whistling when he eyed the thick, muscular tail. “That thing could probably do some serious damage.”
“It seems pretty docile,” Dick defended, not sure why it was so important that Jason not think badly of the mer.
“Docile? Have you seen the scars on it?” Jason made a sharp gesture and the mer, who had been watching him carefully, gave an agitated hiss, teeth bared.
Jason stepped back, discomfort clear on his face. “That thing is dangerous Dick. Leave it alone and get back to your job.”
Shooting him a glare, Jason gave one last assessing look to the mer and then stomped away. Dick sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. Jason was right. The mer seemed docile and friendly, but he was a wild creature. He was unpredictable.
A soft chitter drew his attention back to the mer. He was almost within touching distance of the ship, gaze sharp as he eyed Dick. A swish of his tail, lifted him up in the water, and for a moment Dick was tempted to lean down and meet him halfway.
“I’m sorry,” Dick croaked, even though the mer couldn’t understand him. He turned away, and hurried across the deck, trying to put all thought of the mer from his mind. Dick would forget all about it, and the mer would lose interest, and everything would be fine.
*
Dick was woken by a haunting song, drifting through the salt air. He listened for a long moment, blinking into the dark of the cabin, an indescribable emotion swelling in his chest. Then he pulled his boots on and made his way up onto the deck.
Bruce was stood at the wheel, a dark shadow in the soft moonlight. He turned to look at Dick as he came up beside him, face drawn and serious.
“What’s that noise?” Dick asked, hushed. The melody was louder now, out in the open. It was beautiful and sad, and Dick wanted to close his eyes and fall into the smooth, low tones.
“It’s a mer,” Bruce said, just as quietly. His grip was tight on the wheel, eyes gleaming as he scanned the mirror glass surface of the water.
“You’re worried.”
Dick knew that Bruce was wary of mers, but he hadn’t realised that he would be so concerned, just hearing the song. Bruce had seen mers hundreds of times, and never looked like this.
“How many times have you heard a mer sing?” Bruce asked, and Dick was confused by the subject change.
“I don’t know, once maybe?” Once in the wild at least. It had been much more distant than this, higher and still beautiful, and far enough away that there was no hope of seeing the mer that was singing. Later that night there’d been a storm. Two ships had been lost at sea. Dick had been lucky that they’d made it out alive.
Bruce’s gaze was heavy. “Hearing mer song is never a good sign.”
Dick had never taken Bruce to be superstitious, but then Bruce had far more experience with mers than Dick did. His stomach squirmed, anxiety creeping beneath his ribs, as he scanned the horizon. Somewhere out there, somewhere close, was the mer, its mournful song echoing across the waters.
Tim appeared beside him, rubbing sleepily at his eyes, closely followed by Jason. “What’s going on?” Tim asked, voice thick.
“It’s a mer,” Dick parroted.
Jason shot him a look. “You don’t think it’s that mer that’s been hanging around do you?”
Dick hadn’t even thought of that. This bone-chilling melody, echoing through the still night, was so far removed from the mer that Dick had seen, that he hadn’t even equated the two together.
“What mer?” Bruce snapped, his focus suddenly laser sharp on Dick and Jason.
Jason shrugged. “It was some big, scarred up mer. Dick was messing about with it the other day.”
“I wasn’t messing about with it!” He knew better than to mess around with mer. He’d just been watching it, talking to it a little. That was all. “It was just kind of, floating around by the boat. It didn’t do anything.”
“Have you seen it before?”
“Yeah, once I guess. Why?” Dick got the feeling that he was missing something. Mer hung around the boat all the time, they were harmless for the most part. He didn’t get why Bruce was so bothered by this.
The music cut off suddenly, and Bruce’s jaw tightened, ignoring Dick in favour of scanning the waters again. The silence was almost eerier than the music had been, only the soft sounds of the wind and the gentle lap of the water as the ship cut through the surface.
There was a bang and the ship shuddered through a hit, rocking with the force of it. Dick cried out, startled, and staggered not to lose his footing. The rest of the crew spilled out from their quarters, shouting in alarm and hurrying to their posts.
“What the fuck?” Jason shouted.
“There,” Bruce said, pointing into the dark. Dick squinted into the water and, yes there, a flash of orange, the surface of the water breaking. It was the mer. But what was it doing? Another thud, and the boat listed like it was riding a wave. Dick couldn’t believe the sheer power behind it, the strength it must take to rock the ship like this.
Bruce grit his teeth. “It’s going to bring the whole ship down.”
Dick ran to the edge, leaning over to try and get a proper glimpse of the mer. Behind him Bruce shouted in alarm, but Dick ignored him. If he could just get the mer’s attention, maybe calm it down, then maybe it would stop attacking the ship.
“Hey,” he called out. The wind whipped at his hair, his clothes, carrying his voice out into the water. Another thud, followed by an ominous groaning sound. Dick gripped the edge of the ship for all he was worth, riding out the shudder. If the mer kept hitting the ship like this, it would breach the hull. The whole ship might sink.
“Hey, stop! It’s okay!” he called again.
“What are you doing you idiot?” Jason shouted, close behind him.
Dick ignored him, leaning a little further over, and there just beneath him, orange scales and then a flash of white hair. The mer floated up to the surface, his one sharp eye fixed intently on Dick. And that was good, as long as it was focused on him it wasn’t destroying the ship. Dick smiled and the mer smiled back, sharp teeth gleaming in the moonlight.
The mer disappeared, diving beneath the waters. Dick scanned the still surface for a long, anxious moment. Then the mer was breaching, lunging up towards him, and Dick pulled back in surprise, but he wasn’t quick enough to avoid the grab, the mer’s sharp claws digging into his wrist, dragging him out over the edge of the ship.
For a moment, Dick seemed suspended in motion, too surprised to scream as he fell overboard. Then hands grabbed the back of his trousers, halting his fall, and more hands gripped the back of his shirt, his hips, hauling him backwards. The mer bared his teeth, snarling furiously and tugged painfully on his wrist. Blood dripped down his arm and splashed onto the mer’s cheek, but the mer didn’t even seem to notice.
Then Bruce was there beside him, leaning over the edge to thrust a pike down at the mer. It twisted away, but the sharp end still caught its shoulder, and it shrieked in pain. A great heave, and Dick was falling backwards onto the deck, the mer releasing him with a howl. He collapsed in a tangle of limbs, heart racing, the blood roaring through his ears.
“You fucking idiot!” Jason was yelling, but he was still holding onto Dick, hands grabbing at his shirt as though Dick could slip away at any moment.
Dick leaned back against him, gasping in desperate breaths. He couldn’t believe how close he’d come to being overboard, in the water with a mer. Tim crouched beside him, hands fluttering in the air.
“What was that?” Tim’s voice was high pitched, strained. “Why did it grab you?”
The hits on the boat had stopped, maybe because the mer had lost interest, maybe because it had failed to grab Dick, maybe because Bruce had injured it. Bruce himself was a taut line in front of him, pike still clenched in his fists.
“I don’t know,” Dick gasped. “It’s never done anything like that before!”
“Deathstroke,” Bruce said finally.
“What?”
“That’s what he’s called. Or at least what we call him anyway.”
Dick’s head was swimming. He’d heard of mers being given names before, usually old mers who showed up in the same places over and over. But he’d never heard of Deathstroke.
“Why Deathstroke?” Tim asked.
“Because he’s dangerous,” Bruce turned to look at him then, and his face was pale in the moonlight. “He’s got a reputation for attacking ships, sinking them, and then slaughtering anyone in the water.”
He hadn’t felt malicious, when he was drifting lazily beside the ship, but then again, he had just attacked them.
“I’ve never heard of him grabbing people off the ship before though.”
Jason snorted behind him. “Trust it to be you Dick.”
“But I didn’t do anything. Bruce I swear,” Dick said. All he’d done was watch it, talk to it a little. The mer couldn’t even understand him.
“Jay go check if there’s been any damage done. The rest of you can go back to bed,” Bruce said, rubbing his temple like he had a headache coming.
Dick clambered to his feet, feeling strangely unsteady. Tim hovered by his elbow, hands out like he was worried Dick was gonna fall.
“I’m fine,” Dick said, giving Tim a wry smile.
“You’re bleeding.”
Huh. Dick had forgotten about that. Now that Tim had pointed it out, his arm was throbbing, bleeding all over his shirt from punctures and scratches in his skin. He examined the deep claw marks with a morbid curiosity. Mers were predators after all, and their claws were huge, and sharp enough to rend the flesh from your bones.
“It’s not too bad,” he said, but he let Tim fuss over him anyway, cleaning and dressing the wound.
When he climbed back into bed, he found himself thinking again of the mer. Why try to grab him? Had it been trying to drown him? Kill him? He’d thought that the mer had liked him.
It was an uneasy, restless sleep that night.
*
He didn’t see the mer again for a couple of days, and he’d been watching out for him. He’d hoped to catch a glimpse of him during the day, maybe try and see if the mer was hostile, or if he was back to his lazy curiosity.
When the mer did return, it was night again, and Dick was awake, taking a turn keeping watch. Orange scales caught the moonlight, and Dick was instantly alert, heart racing. The mer’s head broke the water surface, his gaze unerringly meeting Dick’s and the mer tilted its head and chittered, splashing his tail. Dick edged closer, cautiously and the mer reached towards him, as though beckoning him. Dick stepped back instinctively, shaking his head, and the mer bared its teeth with a strangled hiss.
“Bruce!” Dick shouted, just as the mer lunged down, smashing against the hull of the boat with his tail. The cabin door flew open and then Bruce was running towards him, Jason and Tim hot on his heels.
“It’s back?” Bruce snapped, then grit his teeth as another smash resonated up the hull He grabbed up his pike and rushed to the edge, peering over in an attempt to get the mer in his line of sight.
“It’s going to sink the ship,” Tim said quietly, and Dick realised suddenly that he was right. Under the water, it was almost impossible to hit the mer, and the ship couldn’t take the repeated battering. He moved to stand beside Bruce, chest clenching at the older man’s expression, fear and grim determination.
“Get away from the edge,” Jason snapped. “It’s you it wants.”
Dick blinked, Jason’s words sinking into his brain. Dick wasn’t sure if giving the mer what it wanted would stop it from attacking the boat, or killing the rest of the crew, but at this point they were kind of out of options. The ship groaned and shuddered, and they couldn’t even see the mer, let alone hit it. If they didn’t do something, they were all dead anyway.
Dick climbed up onto the edge of the ship. Bruce made a startled noise beside him, and as Dick dived, he made to grab him, fingers brushing against Dick’s ankle. The water, when he hit it, was ice cold, stealing the breath from his lungs. He kicked up to the surface, looking up at the ship as the waves buffeted him.
Jason was yelling, leaning over the edge, and Bruce was holding him back, face devastated. For a moment they tussled together, shouting, until Tim grabbed Jason around the middle and Jason slumped in his hold.
The water broke in front of Dick, the mer breaching the surface to regard him with a tilted head. Bruce shouted something, but Dick couldn’t hear what he said, all of his focus on the dangerous creature in front of him. His teeth chattered, fear flooding his veins, instincts telling him to swim away fast. But that would be pointless. The mer was faster, stronger, deadlier, than Dick. He just had to pray that whatever happened, if he was killed now by the mer, that the ship would be safe. That his family would be safe.
The mer chittered, swimming close enough that Dick could reach out and touch him if he wanted. Dick was treading water as the mer floated in front of him, and Dick couldn’t tell what exactly the mer wanted. Tentatively, he brought a hand up. The mer copied the movement, touching their fingers together.
Dick smiled, and the mer grinned back at him.
#sladerobinweek2020#day 2: merfolk#dc#dick grayson#slade wilson#bruce wayne#jason todd#tim drake#merfolk au#fanfiction#my writing#ambiguous ending
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Welcome Back
I am a card carrying geek. I was that nerd in grade school, reading comics, watching anime, and larping with his friends during recess. I’ve always loved things like books and film, mostly because my ma had a penchant for the sci-fi and we would share in her hobbies. I’ve been a fan of Doctor Who since i was a wee lil’ Smokey and had a particular fondness for Max Headroom’s shenanigans. My chosen proclivities lend themselves to alternate universes, divergent timeless, and the interdenominational doppelganger or two. What i am trying to convey, here, is that i am not stranger to the revisit of a franchise. For me, rebooting an established work or expanding a loved lore is not a transgression. I am a fan of narrative. If you can tell a unique story, it really doesn’t even have to be that good, but something creativity and compelling, i am totally on board. This isn't as difficult a feat as you'd think considering how well Hollywood can adapt international films. The Ring and The Departed are effectively remakes of their original Asian fare and those films are spectacular. Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy is the best example of this i can give. His deconstruction of the Batman mythos was one of the best cinematic and storytelling experiences I ever had. If you can take an established narrative, an established universe, and inject your own flavor into it, i am down for that, too. The Kelvin Star Trek timeline immediately comes to mind. Again, comic book guy, specifically a Spider-Man shill.
While i have years worth of alternate Spider-Men in the books to pull from, i think the most concise example i can give for a layman is to think Into the Spider-Verse, only with thousands more Spider-Men and Spider-Women. That’s the world I'm broaching this subject from, where there are decades worth of stories and reboots and remakes and reimagings, basically revisits, of a character that i absolutely love. Some are great like the Ultimate Spider-Man or the world of Renew Your Vows, and some are not so great, like that version Abrams’ kid came up with. That whole story was the worst. We have actually seen a little bit of this narrative reincarnation in the Spider-Man film franchise, itself, both good and bad. If we take the very first Spider-Man films, those campy, Raimi classics, as a starting point, then we had a terrible reboot in the Amazing franchise and a rather brilliant reimagining in the MCU outings. I really like the MCU retool. Tom Holland is THE onscreen Peter Parker and you can fight me about it all day.
Jurassic World and The Force Awakens are an interesting situation in the whole Revisit discourse. Both of these films are effectively reboots of the entire franchise and a whole ass remake of their initial entries. Beat for beat, theme for theme, these two films are basically the same as Jurassic Park and Episode IV, just less than they are in every conceivable fashion. Now, on paper, i should hate this but i don’t. There is a reason both of the imitations made billions for their respective franchise and that is simply nostalgia. We. as a culture, were starved for a Jurassic sequel and new Star War. When we got these movies in earnest, no one cared they were rehashes of the films that made them so important to the cultural zeitgeist. It was like seeing A New Hope and that initial outing to Isla Nublar for the first time, for a second time, but with much better effects. It had been decades since either of these movies had a proper release so we all just accepted that these were refresher courses in the lore. It was with the sequels that these things sh*t the bed so hard.
Fallen Kingdom and The Last Jedi skewed so far from what these franchises were, from the rules that had been established in the preceding films, including the first in their new trilogies, that they were offensive. Legitimately offensive. Jurassic World and The Force Awakens, as flawed as they were, left their worlds in respectable places. The narratives that could be built from those starting point were incredible. That potential was palpable. Lucas, himself, said that the stories should rhyme and you see that in his six films. Familiar yet different. Nostalgic yet original. Respectful yet original. None of that was recognized in the follow-ups and that is why these two franchises are on life support. It’s sad because there was potential there. Characters introduced were compelling and narrative threads left unties, could have become something great. Instead, expectations were subverted and the world completely sh*t on in an effort to be edgy, to distance itself from the established lore. That sh*t is whack. It’s not about being a fan of the franchise or a zealous istaphobe or whatever else the Twatter mob wants to accuse people of being. It’s about bad story telling. it’s abut a complete betrayal of a decades old franchise. It’s a bout being disingenuous with the property for personal gain.
I said at the beginning of this essay that i love a revisit. That’s why i went to see these sh*tty films. I also made very clear that i love storytelling. Fallen Kingdom and The Last Jedi lack in that fundamental aspect, that’s why they suck. They’ve done irreparable damage to the entire franchise and canon of these worlds that were so meticulously crafted by proper visionaries. Michael Crichton is rolling in his grave at what became of his Dinosaur Westworld and Lucas effectively bogarded his way into running Lucasfilm again after they sh*t on his legacy and that’s the thing; Legacy. These two franchises are part of American culture. They’re as revered as Apple Pie and Institutional Racism here. They’re not cash grabs or vehicles to push your politics. They’re modern fairy tales, myths, and should be respected as such. The thing is, though, i don’t believe there are actual creatives out there that have the vision to create like Crichton or Lucas anymore. Or, at least, Creatives that are willing to work within the constraints of this ridiculous studio system.
Modern film studios are disgustingly risk averse. That is a problem with anything making entertainment media nowadays but it’s most egregious in Hollywood. Films like Star Wars and Alien were made in a time when budgets didn’t swell to hundreds of millions of dollars so directors had to do what he could, with what they had, and that level of imagination birthed classics. It’s rare that creators get a blank check to deliver their vision nowadays, and even rarer that what they get to make if they receive that loot, is actually good. Zack Snyder and the train wreck that is Sucker Punch demonstrates my point perfectly. the new Lucases and Camerons are rare but there are a handful of directors who carry that torch. Denis Villeneuve is an incredible visual storyteller. He has a distinct vision for the grand and manages to craft proper worlds. Blade Runner 2049 is one of the best films i have ever seen in my life but it didn’t make money because people have been conditioned to ignore great storytelling for great effects. That sh*t is why people can say to me, with a straight face, that they think Batman v. Superman is better than The Dark Knight rises. That sh*t is stupid, shut the f*ck up. Deni was given the reigns to the Dune reboot and i think this might be the film that breaks him through to the mainstream.
Dune is a reboot. It looks like a revisit to the old David Lynch flick but with Deni’s penchant for the epic. This movie feels like what Jurassic World and The Force Awakens wanted to do; A respectful acknowledgment of what came before but an original take going forward. Dune is one of the greatest sci-fi novels ever written and Deni is one of the most profound visionaries in the game right now. I have no doubt the new film is going to be fantastic. This combination is a match made in heaven, similar to Alex Garland with Annihilation or, more accurately i think, Luca Guadagnino and Suspiria. Those two films are f*cking incredible and they adapt the source material in a very, specific, manner. Annihilation is a reimagining of the book and carries its own themes and tones while the new Suspiria is a complete reinterpretation of what came before, that i believe eclipses the original. Dune looks excellent but i don’t know that it will be well received. Deni has his work cut out for him because the world of revisits is riddle with the corpses of films that couldn’t care the weight of what came before or what could have been. Still, i don’t want Hollywood to stop. As unoriginal as remaking things is, i adore a fresh set of eyes on familiar fare. There are infinite ways to tell the same story and that’s the fun of revisiting an old tale.
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The dumbest post
I think y’all should be here to witness the dumbest post I’ll ever make, as I’m not all about getting into discourse and that, and any other self-identifying Vergil lovers please come here:
@creepyscritches, @brasspetalsx, @fandomhell97, @breezeinmonochromenight, @kaldea88, @xalmasyx, @hornyangrybean, @noir-sorrow, @catspook, @xenontrioxide, @zilla-may-cry, @boobble, @vergilshusband, @tifaroni, @littlebluewraith, @im-a-clown, @genovaempera, @neodicronus, @thelessiknowtheworse, @thriilsy, @jestermania, @bunny-girl-sweetseek, @darka3363, @witchkiid, @45, @manadebutt, @magsamaire, @spaghetti-queerghetti, @clairexredfields, @204863-yunglynn, @yuri-subtext, @miss-soso-25, @josuke-kujo, @cameguisada, @trionfi, @glitteryhumanfiretrash, @lewdbunbun, @journalofsparda, @complacentdevil, @infernokid, @emogodmatthew, @brit-o-raptor, @salsa-and-chips, @gemstone-enema
I’d like y’all to bear witness, as I take down this bitch-ass clown. As I’ve blocked the person in question that I want to call out - please tag them into this post to have at them ;) Also - to the other people that didn’t get this, tag your mutuals and get them here.
I’d also like to announce that @thephantomporg84 is now masquerading as @derelict-stranger, and I got a few messages a few days ago about how she was gonna take down her account, and how she wants me to block all of you, which is ridiculous as you are all blogs that I have known and followed way before her and also I don’t know you either. I told her that I didn’t want to be involved in her drama, but here I am.
It’s kinda hard for me to make this post, as I genuinely thought that she was cool in the beginning - she helped to give me more DMC asks in my inbox, and she always reblogged my stuff, as I’ve been trying to make it with the big guys - like @myfairmidnightladyspade.
But I saw the stuff that she says online to you all, and I think I got some anon messages from her asking if I was a terf or not... and yeah - my heart broke. I feel like I have been deceived in some way. What I wanted to be there was someone who was cool, and funny to talk to, but turns out that person is petty, heartless, immature and straight up spiteful.
I may have to justify myself in why I got messages from her - I was only trying to console her, but to do it in a neutral way as I wanted no part in her drama.
Also - i’m probably not gonna show any evidence for how much she sucks cause there’s tags and anon posts dedicated to that sort of thing
I want you on tumblr, and you on Reddit to find her, and in the /v/ section of 4chan to block her and report her for all she’s done. I want you to wipe her existence from the internet until there is nothing left.
Now - I need to change the flow of the conversation by directing it to you, @derelict-stranger.
I’d like you to kindly log off, take a breather and think, for a second about the actions that you’ve done to the people that I’ve mentioned above.
I’d also like to tell you that your suggestion to block all those people above is complete nonsense. Why would you make me block blogs who have perfectly decent and awesome content, and to those who I have talked to longer than you? why would you make me block blogs who I don’t know? Quit trying to get me on your side. I want no part in your drama like I said before, and stop trying to manipulate me into getting me to give a shit about you.
I’d also like to tell you that your situation is entirely self-inflicted. That you trying to talk to me won’t work, the only reason that people are apparently “attacking you” - is because you, in fact, are the instigator, are the catalyst of all this hatred.
You - @derelict-stranger, lack any ability whatsoever to disagree well. From where I’m looking, all of this started because you don’t like Vergil from the Devil May Cry games and you don’t like the plot of 5, which seems extremely stupid to me, as he’s only a small-ish part of 1, one of the best boss-fights in 3 and just a mere mention in 4. The fact that you need to incessantly attack content creators who merely like him is stupid. Either keep those opinions to yourself, ignore them, or do my favourite -> stick ‘em up your big stupid ass.
It’s also stupid that when people merely like him - you have to bring in your own shitty opinions. No one asked you what you thought, and I’m pretty sure you’re actively seeking out fights with people just to feel good about yourself. It’s also super hypocritical of you ragging on about how much Vergil sucks, when you go crazy for Kylo Ren, as they share some similarities in terms of their vibes and traits. (Yeah - I see you asking for smutty Kylo Ren x Reader requests online.....) Why do you get pissy when people like villainous fictional characters - do your knickers
What I just want to know is what kind of personal gratification you get when you actively hate on a character, and what kind of gratification you get when just because someone disagrees with you - that you have to result using death threats, rape threats, pedophilia threats, racism, slurs, and ableism,�� transphobia, alt-right rhetoric, neo-Nazi shit, pro-Trump, and homophobic comments to content creators just doin’ their own thing. Is it just to feel like the bigger man, is it to make yourself sound smarter than the other person (Cause you don’t) - like what actually motivates you, what actually makes you want to shit on other people’s parades, huh? Sounds to me like you need to get a life.
The fact that you always need to play the victim is sad and pathetic too:
- That you’re on the spectrum: - Okay, there are a lot of people who are on the spectrum here on tumblr. But they don’t use it as an excuse to justify shitty behaviour especially if it’s unitentional. as I’m sure they and the people they know are. I’m sure they apologise and try to get on with life like how NT people do. As you know - a lot of people of the spectrum feel like they’re being treated as sub-human being babies that do nothing but screech all the time, and they’re taking action to change those perceptions. Your behaviours are not helping their cause.
- That you use depression as an excuse - I’m kinda sympathetic to the whole mental health issues thing. I have them too. In fact, I am a hot mess. But I don’t use that to excuse me hurting other people with intention, and I’m sure many others don’t either. At least 1/4 or 1/3 will have some mental health issues in their life, and yeah, it sucks, and it’s common but it doesn’t make them exempt from them being called out on their shitty acts. the fact that so many people are and can be mentally ill doesn’t make you special, and it doesn’t give you a free pass to attack others.
- The fact that you try to bait people into making anti-semitic comments, so you can call them anti-semitic. Dude, that’s low. I’m pretty sure that’s gaslighting and manipulation as well. You don’t get the right to use your religion/race in that way as a defence when you’re feeling attacked so that you come off a better person. I’m friends with many jewish people, and they’d never have the gall to do that. I know that your peeople have had it rough, but you can’t use that in an argument just to prove that the other one is a piece of shit, when it is in fact you. I’m muslim, a WOC, and ancestrally speaking, from a country that your so-beloved president essentially banned their right to seek a better life in the states. For as long as I can remember - I’ve seen news about my kind being universally hated, I’ve been brought up in a post-9/11 world where for as long as I can remember that me and our kind are the enemy (so I can sympathise) - but you don’t see me and other muslims here using those petty tactics that you use, because unlike you, we’re not myopic and we know that won’t get us anywhere.
I mean, this behaviour sounds bratty and childish - so I was thinking, she’ll probably grow out of it. Then I find that you’re in you’re mid-twenties, and I think “you really haven’t grown up at all, have you?”, and honestly it just makes the behaviour worse as you are resulting to middle school/high school tactics -> especially making me block all those people, calling them sociopaths and evil bitches. This ain’t high school or Mean Girls, moron, this is a fandom. A place where people can create, share, like and comment on content that makes you happy. I don’t think you understand what that means - cause all I see, and everyone sees is you spewing hatred everywhere. Fandoms are supposed to make you feel included, feel happy, feel safe, be a place to make friends. I don’t think you know that, and I don’t think you are even smart enough to realise that you are the reason why our fandom isn’t happy.
And honestly, at this point, the hatred you are getting is well deserved. You deserve to feel like shit if all you are going to do is make others feel like shit.
I don’t know what else to say but:
1. Get the hell away from our fandom
2. Get rid of your internet connection.
3. Get a life.
4. We don’t want you here.
5. You’re scum.
6. Go suck a dick, or flick a bean, whatever gets you off you troglodyte.
I liked you man, I really did. Then I saw how you treat others, and now I know I made a dumb life choice in making friends with you. If only you weren’t such a piece of shit, we could have been good friends.
I don’t want you here on tumblr. They don’t want you here. No-one wants or needs a toxic parasite like you on this website.
Yours sincerely,
sui-senka, who just sucked Vergil’s dick yesterday, and liked it.
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