#like. you can personally like something and connect to it even though the context is bad. ive connected to ableist media before

[samhadjblog2]

Hey there. Remember him? Does it seem like once he pacified Piltover he was just gonna call it a day, get back in his gigantic astral hamster ball and fuck off back to the compound? No. His goal was the evolution of humanity. Not Piltover. Jayce spells this out clearly. "This isn't a fair request". But it is the truth. And regarding the uniforms. The average Undercity character is seen is some variety of leathers/cloth/wool whatever that usually is displaying a decent amount of skin. THE ENFORCERS WEAR ARMOR.

Viktor's "End of the world" narrative a contrivance to get the two cities to talk to one another. And so its cheap to end the series that was driven by its class conflict with a MCU film where everyone joins together to save the world. And so the show having people die in suits of Enforcers is kind of messed up in the contexts of the conflict between the two cities.

As for the whole "Silco became a mouth piece for forgiveness" is also referring to the unsubtle line in Ep.7 where Silco said "The greatest thing we can do in the world is find the will to forgive ourselves". (Which is kind of messed up in the context's that Vander drowned him).

And the whole speech that his imagined version that Jinx made gave to her just kind of

Because it wasn't about Piltover or Zaun you crusty dishrag. Viktor was trying to purify all of humanity after a life-time of seeing the imperfections and weaknesses in himself as a start. Jayce loved Viktor. I'm not even getting to romantic or platonic, he LOVED VIKTOR. I suppose you would have preferred for him to look at Viktor and yell "You know what you diseased freak you have a point! Good for you taking everyone's humanity. WELL DONE!"

Yes it was about Piltover and Zaun that is the central basis of the show. And also Viktor wasn't interested in healing his sickness because he thought he was broken. He wanted to heal it because he didn't want to die. That's been his whole conflict in S1 that he has so much potential however his body is preventing him from obtaining it. And at the end of S1 he already made peace with his death. And so this conversation of "You were never broken Viktor" is empty. Also Viktor only healed people wanted to healed at first and its all Jayce's fault for not talking things out with Viktor and telling him that he met his future self.

Ekko and Vi are family. So while it is true he may be angry and we don't see it, I think a character of immense heart like Ekko who loves Vi would actually talk with her. You know.. rather than the savage degradation of Vi some people seem to wish for.

Jinx and Vi were also family and she was willing to call her out for all the murders she committed. To act like Ekko wouldn't have an issue with what Vi did isn't the case. Another thing Ekko also gave up Jinx until he was sent to the alternate dimension.

(Also Viktor end the world narrative is BS)

She is a side character. Sorry but she is. But after a lifetime trying and failing to stand for Zaun she becomes their first ever voice on the council. She is the representative of every person she has wanted to protect. Sorry if that doesn't cut it.

She still a prominent character in the show who has a lot of connections to the main cast. So her just being reduced to this one role is just cheap.

When exactly would we have seen this? I also would have been curious to see her reaction but they were dealing with the whole ya know.. war?!

As you already stated, her connections to Isha, Jinx talking it out with her about helping this fight (Even though I find the conflict a load of BS)

Same to above. I wish we could have seen Jinx rallying the undercity with Ekko. I actually give you this one. I think this was a missed opportunity.

It really isn't. This is something that "should of happened" because too much was just glossed over.

Again Viktor's story is BS.

Quick Response To Some Fresh Lunacy

**Spoilers For Arcane**

So while I have only delved into the sheer bedlam that is the Arcane Critical tag once, every now and then one of those feisty little diesel drinkers makes it onto my feed and I am treated to something like this as reasons season 2 supposedly sucked (their phrasing was much more unpleasant):

1. The people of the Undercity died to save Piltover while wearing Enforcer uniforms despite Piltover doing nothing to earn it. 2. Silco was turned into a mouthpiece for forgiveness and letting go of the past despite being one of the only pro-zaun characters. 3. Jinx was redeemed by sympathizing with topsiders, forced to apologize for killing Caitlyn's mom and felt like she needed to die so Vi could run off with Caitlyn. 4. Vi didn't care about the grey and serviced Caitlyn in a prison cell where she was locked away by Enforcers as a kid. 5. Jayce acting like Viktor's illness that was caused by Piltover wasn't something that needed to be cured. 6. Ekko never calls out Heimerdinger for his failings, Vi for joining the Enforcers, and risks his people (the firelights) to help Piltover. 7. Sevika almost being cut completely, never reacting to Isha's death or interacting with Jinx in act 3 and risking her life to help Piltover which is way out of character.

Okay... breathe deep... it hurts.. I know it hurts. It hurt me as well to read such a strong concentration of felonious stupidity all in one place as well. But we must never falter. There are a lot of ways I could respond to this. And perhaps at some point I will go more in-depth. But the simple fact is nothing here requires a long, drawn out, point-by-point defense. Because I have seen the show. Which clearly gives me the upper hand here. So, I am going to give each of these the amount of attention they deserve.

The people of the Undercity died to save Piltover while wearing Enforcer uniforms despite Piltover doing nothing to earn it

Hey there. Remember him? Does it seem like once he pacified Piltover he was just gonna call it a day, get back in his gigantic astral hamster ball and fuck off back to the compound? No. His goal was the evolution of humanity. Not Piltover. Jayce spells this out clearly. "This isn't a fair request". But it is the truth. And regarding the uniforms. The average Undercity character is seen is some variety of leathers/cloth/wool whatever that usually is displaying a decent amount of skin. THE ENFORCERS WEAR ARMOR.

Silco was turned into a mouthpiece for forgiveness and letting go of the past despite being one of the only pro-zaun characters

Okay. I am going to make this is as simple as possible so you can follow along with me:

As we know, Silco is not there. Jinx is essentially working this out in her own mind through these hallucinations

Her status as Silco's daughter, being a symbol, his influence and shadow, it is all tying her to the past which as we know is filled to the brim with delicious sugary trauma.

Even though he was a monster, she views him as a father figure. And as much as it sucks to say probably more than Vander. She was so young when Vander died. She was with Silco during her real formative years. And I would bet she has pushed Vander away mentally to protect herself after everything that has occured. So while Vi sees Vander in the barfight when she wants to give up, Jinx sees Silco.

Silco is giving Jinx the permission Jinx realizes she has to give Vi to save both of them.

Jinx was redeemed by sympathizing with topsiders, forced to apologize for killing Caitlyn's mom and felt like she needed to die so Vi could run off with Caitlyn

Again. HUMANITY ENDING THREAT. Also ya know her fucking sister wanted her by her side.

OH NO! OUR MURDEROUS MENTALLY ILL TERRORIST IS HEALING AND TRYING TO TAKE ACCOUNTABILITY FOR HER MISTAKES! WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! NOT CHARACTER GROWTH!

3. True. In that moment she felt she needed to die.. because as she says, she feels "there's no good version of me". I know it's unfair you have to watch the whole scene to get it. But you have taken a profound moment of Jinx's love for her sister and her recognition of how Vi loves her and made it.. whatever this was supposed to be.

Vi didn't care about the grey and serviced Caitlyn in a prison cell where she was locked away by Enforcers as a kid.

I have done this so... so many times. I am not doing it again. I will go with the same blanket statement I have been using lately: A non-lethal crowd dispersal weapon in targeted locations against dangerous drug lords and a terrorist who likes blowing shit up? Seems like a decent plan.

Well done. You have taken a beautiful moment of meaning between these two characters and simplified it down to the utmost degree. There are numerous thoughtful, in-depth and heartfelt breakdowns of this scene available and I promised myself I wasn't going to waste a bunch of my time responding to this mind-melting ignorance. So I will just say this. If that is all you see in that scene, I really am sorry for you. I hope someday things improve.

Jayce acting like Viktor's illness that was caused by Piltover wasn't something that needed to be cured

Because it wasn't about Piltover or Zaun you crusty dishrag. Viktor was trying to purify all of humanity after a life-time of seeing the imperfections and weaknesses in himself as a start. Jayce loved Viktor. I'm not even getting to romantic or platonic, he LOVED VIKTOR. I suppose you would have preferred for him to look at Viktor and yell "You know what you diseased freak you have a point! Good for you taking everyone's humanity. WELL DONE!"

Ekko never calls out Heimerdinger for his failings, Vi for joining the Enforcers, and risks his people (the firelights) to help Piltover.

Heimerdinger is very aware of his failings. You have to watch in season one. Again.. watching the show you talk about.. very hard I know. And as close as he and Ekko are in season two I think we can safely say they are on the same page. Never mind that Ekko has shown he has no trouble calling out anyone who needs it.

Ekko and Vi are family. So while it is true he may be angry and we don't see it, I think a character of immense heart like Ekko who loves Vi would actually talk with her. You know.. rather than the savage degradation of Vi some people seem to wish for.

AGAIN FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY

Sevika almost being cut completely, never reacting to Isha's death or interacting with Jinx in act 3 and risking her life to help Piltover which is way out of character

She is a side character. Sorry but she is. But after a lifetime trying and failing to stand for Zaun she becomes their first ever voice on the council. She is the representative of every person she has wanted to protect. Sorry if that doesn't cut it.

When exactly would we have seen this? I also would have been curious to see her reaction but they were dealing with the whole ya know.. war?!

Same to above. I wish we could have seen Jinx rallying the undercity with Ekko. I actually give you this one. I think this was a missed opportunity.

ONCE MORE WITH FEELING

I'm sorry scary Viktor. I don't know why they keep forgetting you.

[anti-transphobia]

Random reminder that I HATE Plushie Dreadful!! Those mental illness/disabilities plushes? Typically rabbits? There's been a lot of criticism over them about ableism in the past. Personal feelings about disorders being marketed, formerly partnering with Autism Speaks, etc. But one thing people don't seem to notice is the ableism towards schizophrenics, narcissists, and antisocials! This site with a bunch of beautifly designed rabbit stuffed animals decided to make the schizophrenic and antisocial plushes noticably creepier than most others. The antisocial one at the very least came out cuter than the concept art. But the schizophrenic one is openly based on serial killers. And NPD? The official Twitter account made a poll about what the design should be, made degrading comments about narcissists, and liked comments by people making fun of narcissists. In the end, in order to not make the npd plush TOO special or unique looking, made it a plain brown rabbit with a paper crown (openly saying it's because pwnpd aren't actually special or deserving of a real one). When contacted by pwnpd with criticism/feedback, like they say they accept, they ignored it

Ableism towards disorders people find "scary" or "bad" is still ableism!!! It's still shitty!!!

[itsnesss]

𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚 | oscar piastri × fem!reader

summary | you lose yourself in him, off camera, where no one’s watching and everything feels real

warnings | tension, smut, explicit content, oral (reader!receives), p in v, unprotected sex

word count | 3.7 k

🖇 more op81 🖇 f1 masterlist

The camera spins around you, capturing the perfect scene. You're standing next to Oscar, both dressed in F1 driver suits, posing under the bright lights illuminating the set. The production for the new F1 commercial is in full swing, and although everything appears highly professional, there's something in the air—something between you and Oscar—that makes the tension palpable, even while the cameras keep rolling.

Oscar is so close you can almost feel the heat radiating from his body. His eyes, so intense, watch you with a curiosity that, though subtle, you can’t help but notice. Everything else fades away as the camera flashes illuminate your faces. You’re acutely aware of every small movement he makes, of every glance he sends your way as you both play your roles as rival drivers—but something else is beginning to stir in the atmosphere.

The forced smiles only intensify the electricity. You see how his lips curl into that almost-defiant, ever-present, yet mysterious smile. For some reason, you find yourself trapped by it.

The filming progresses quickly, but as the shots continue, you realize that the line between professional and personal is starting to blur. The gestures, once calculated and perfected, now seem to be laced with something deeper—something neither of you can hide.

"Perfect, all good. Let's take a break, guys," says the director, and the sound of "cut" slices through the air, finally breaking the charged atmosphere that had been building between the two of you.

The set begins to calm down as the crew adjusts the equipment. The buzz of conversation and the hurried footsteps of the assistants momentarily pull you out of what you just felt. But for some reason, it’s impossible to shake the sensation that something has changed.

Oscar walks up to you, his gaze more intense than before. Without words, he nods slightly. It’s an invitation—no need for anything more. You follow his lead to a secluded corner, where the noise of the set fades. The air feels heavier, now away from the cameras. He leans casually against a wall, his silhouette lit by the sunlight streaming through the studio windows. Something about his posture makes you wonder if he’s really as calm as he looks. But when you meet his eyes, you know he’s not. Neither are you.

"Want to go out for some fresh air?" he asks, his voice low, but the way he looks at you makes it feel like he’s waiting for a specific answer.

In any other context, you might’ve said no. But something inside pushes you to say yes. You accept the invitation and follow him outside, where the sun is beginning to set. The sky is painted with soft orange hues, and the cool air sends a shiver down your spine.

You both walk in silence, but the space between you is minimal. The quiet isn’t awkward—it’s charged with something far more intense. The wind gently moves your hair, but your thoughts are consumed by him. By how close he is, how easy it would be to lean in.

Oscar exhales softly, as if restraining something inside, before breaking the silence.

"This..." he begins, but seems unsure how to continue. For a moment, he looks vulnerable—something you never expected from him. But that fleeting vulnerability only makes you feel more connected. It’s strange, you know it is, but the spark between you has ignited.

You stop by a wooden bench in the studio courtyard, and he does too. He’s close—close enough that you can feel his breath match yours. The sun dips lower, painting the horizon with golden and reddish hues. The peaceful moment contrasts with the tension that’s been mounting.

Oscar watches you, eyes locked onto yours, and in them, you see something different. What is it? Desire? Uncertainty? Questions flood your mind, but you don’t dare voice them. You don’t have to.

"What’s wrong?" you ask with a slight smile, trying to cut the tension. But the moment you speak, you realize words aren’t enough to ease the fire building between you.

Oscar doesn’t respond immediately. He steps closer, and the proximity makes your breath hitch. A shiver runs through you when his index finger brushes your arm casually—but his touch is anything but. It feels like the beginning of something inevitable, something you can’t undo.

You're caught between the urge to pull away and the irresistible force of attraction. You can’t look away from his eyes, and before you realize it, you're leaning in. The tension snaps in a second.

Without breaking eye contact, Oscar leans in, and his lips meet yours in a kiss that’s soft but intense. At first, everything feels like it's in slow motion. The brush of his lips is tentative, but it feels like time has frozen. Every second, every inch of closeness grows more intense.

You tremble—not from the cool air, but from the heat pulsing in your chest. Oscar doesn’t rush. His hand slides up to your neck, fingers gently tracing your skin as he deepens the kiss, unhurried but full of pent-up need.

When you pull away slightly, the air between you is thicker than ever. You stare at each other in silence, breathing heavily.

"This is crazy," you whisper, trying to catch your breath. Even your voice sounds strange—distant, like everything is still in slow motion.

"Yeah," he replies, his tone low, barely audible. "It’s crazy."

But he doesn’t step back. Instead, his hands move down your sides, touching you through the fabric of your shirt. The feel of his fingers makes your heart race, and without thinking, you lean into him again, chasing that contact that left you breathless.

Sensing your movement, Oscar closes the gap swiftly, pulling you into another kiss. This time, it’s fiercer—like neither of you can hold back any longer, like the line between want and need has completely vanished.

His hands slide down your back, lower this time, until they reach your hips. The touch is firm but gentle, and you can feel the heat of his body through your clothes. Your own hands respond, roaming over his chest, down the fabric of his jacket, hungry to feel his skin. The craving for more takes over, and you find yourself wanting something you hadn’t even considered before.

Oscar pulls away slowly, a playful smirk curving his lips. His breathing is ragged, but there’s something in his eyes that leaves you speechless. He’s changed. He’s no longer the distant, composed guy you knew—he’s here, with you, burning with intensity.

"We can’t do this here," he murmurs, sending a shiver down your spine with just those words. But he doesn’t look away.

"Why not?" you ask, more teasing than anything, knowing that each word only drives him closer to the edge.

Oscar watches you for a moment, his expression softening though the fire in his eyes hasn’t dimmed. Finally, he takes a step back—but not too far. He grabs your hand firmly, and a new silence settles between you. Without speaking, he leads you to the back entrance of a nearby building, away from prying eyes. All that remains is the urgency you both carry, as if time no longer exists.

Once inside, Oscar closes the door behind you, and the click of the lock echoes in the air like a signal that there’s no turning back. You’re alone with him, and you both know exactly what you want. The desire can no longer be hidden.

He stares at you for a moment, as if deciding something, then steps forward. His body inches from yours again, and once more, the distance disappears. His hands cup your face gently, contradicting the burning urgency you both feel—but when his lips find yours again, it’s nothing but fiery and demanding. There are no more doubts, no room for anything but this kiss.

You teeter between the desire to surrender completely and the need to think—but in that moment, all you can do is follow him, matching his pace, because he knows what he’s doing. Every move he makes, every touch of his hand, every sweep of his tongue over yours forces you to release everything you’ve been holding back.

Your hands move to his neck, feeling the tension in his muscles, and you realize just how desperate he is not to stop. His lips trail down your jaw, to your neck, and the brush of his breath on your skin sends a shiver through your body you can’t control.

"Oscar…" you whisper, unable to say much more than his name. He lifts his head to look at you, but there are no words—just the promise in his eyes. You don’t need him to say anything, because you both understand without speaking.

With nearly frantic hands, Oscar begins to undo the buttons on your shirt, his fingers sure but gentle, as if each movement is designed to make your heart race faster. You respond immediately, tugging at the hem of his shirt, craving the feel of his skin. The world outside disappears—there’s nothing left but the need to be closer, to become one in this moment.

The heat between you is unbearable. The cool air outside, the spinning world—it all fades away. All that matters is this contact, the desire to lose yourselves in each other. Every touch becomes more urgent, more demanding, and with every kiss, the need grows stronger.

Soon, the sound of your zipper joins the soft gasps escaping your mouths. The haste is clear, and what started as a camera-ready act has turned into something far more personal, far deeper.

Oscar’s body is now pressed entirely against yours, and the feel of his skin, his warmth, surrounds you completely. You feel him, fully, and even though you know this will change everything—you don’t stop. You don’t want to.

The temperature rises, your breathing quickens, and in that moment, the pressure of everything you’ve held back releases in one unforgettable instant.

Oscar lets out a deep gasp as he holds you close. His lips now hover near your ear, whispering with a mix of desire and urgency that sends shivers down your spine.

"This... this is crazy," he says, voice hoarse, breath ragged. The pressure of his body increases, and you feel the frantic rise and fall of his chest.

You can barely think. Everything around you vanishes. All you feel is his body—hot and firm against yours—and the rush of his breath, wild and overwhelming, wrapping you in a spiral of sensation. Your fingers tremble as you explore him, sliding along his torso, and suddenly you find yourself wanting more—so much more than you thought you could.

Oscar seems to be struggling to maintain control, but the way he touches you, as if claiming every inch of you, shows otherwise. Every move becomes more desperate, more intense.

"I don’t want to stop..." he murmurs, his words filled with longing, followed by another deep gasp like he can’t bear the tension anymore.

It’s not just the closeness—it’s the way his hands grip your back, trailing down to your waist, where they hold you tight. His muscles tense as he pulls you even closer, as if he wants to merge with you. His kisses, once soft and restrained, now burn with desperation, pressing against your lips with a force that takes your breath away.

You gasp, unable to hold back. Every brush of his tongue, every caress of his hands makes you forget everything else. There are no cameras, no spotlight—just the two of you, and the desire consuming you mercilessly.

"I don’t know if I can..." he whispers, his voice breaking under his heavy breathing. He knows what he’s saying—you feel it in his words—but his hands don’t stop moving over you, almost as if he physically can’t. Every touch is a promise, and you know it well.

Oscar pulls back slightly, though there's barely any space between you. His face is flushed, his eyes locked onto yours with a mix of desire and uncertainty that leaves you speechless.

"This is more than I planned..." he pants, but his hands rise to your face, like he’s searching for your answer, your permission. The touch of his fingers sends a jolt through you.

You can’t answer with words. Only sighs escape your lips—a raw, unfiltered need. You have to touch him, and you do. Your hands glide along his back, beneath his shirt, craving the warm skin beneath. You feel him shudder, his breathing picking up with each caress, each stroke.

The chemistry is undeniable—everything that had been held back finally surges to the surface. You can’t stop. Neither of you can.

"I don’t want to regret this..." he whispers, and the vulnerability in his tone surprises you. But there’s no room for regrets now. Not in this moment, not with him so close, so real.

With new urgency, Oscar kisses you again—deeper, hungrier. This time, he doesn’t stop, even as he presses you against the wall with a firm push. The breathless sounds you both make fill the room, and for a moment, it feels like the world has ceased to exist.

In the way his hands grip your waist, in the way he kisses you, there’s a hunger that can’t be ignored. Every touch, every brush of his body against yours, pulls you closer to something neither of you can deny.

Completely consumed by the tension, you draw him in, matching his every move with a heat that burns from within. Desire has taken over, and words are no longer needed.

Oscar, breathless, pauses to look at you, and you see the inner conflict in his eyes. The way he looks at you—with a mix of passion and hesitation—only makes everything more intense.

"Tell me this is okay…" he whispers, his lips just barely grazing yours, yet the heat between you is almost unbearable.

"Alright, I need you," you say, your voice trembling but firm. Your eyes meet his, and in them, there is a confirmation that needs no words. There are no doubts, only certainty. In that moment, everything is okay.

With a moan vibrating in his chest, Oscar throws himself at you, kissing you with an intensity that consumes him completely. His lips are demanding yet generous, as if he wants to devour you, to absorb every part of your being. The heat between you is unbearable, and the kisses grow more passionate, deeper, until it feels like there isn’t enough air for the both of you. The desire is immense, and in this moment, nothing matters more than being closer to Oscar, than feeling his body pressed against yours.

Without breaking the kiss, Oscar lifts you in his arms and pins you against the wall, holding you with strength and determination. Your body responds to his, and you cling to his neck, your thighs wrapping around his waist. The position is intimate and daring, and you can feel every pulse of his heart beating against yours. The world around you disappears; only the two of you remain, suspended in a moment of pure connection.

The kiss continues, more demanding, more urgent. Oscar, not relenting the pressure, bites your lower lip gently, and the pain mixed with pleasure causes a moan to escape your throat. Your body arches, craving more of him, and you can feel his erection growing between you.

"I want to feel you," you whisper against his lips, and your words are the spark that ignites a fire that had already been burning inside Oscar. With a growl he hardly recognizes as his own, he begins descending with his mouth over your body, biting and licking every inch of exposed skin. Every touch of his is a flame feeding the fire consuming him, and soon he's completely overtaken by the desire to take you, to make you his in this moment.

With quick, precise movements, Oscar strips you of your clothes, leaving them in a messy pile on the floor. Your skin is exposed, and the look he gives you is a mix of intense desire and admiration that makes you feel powerful and vulnerable at the same time. There’s no room for shyness now, only for pure, raw desire.

His hands glide over your body, tracing every curve, every plane, as if he’s memorizing your shape. The heat of his touch is intense, and your skin prickles with every caress. Oscar takes his time, exploring every inch of you, as if he wants to know it all. It’s a mixture of reverence and lust that leaves you breathless.

"You’re incredible," he whispers in a low voice, and his words send a wave of heat coursing through you. Oscar leans in, his lips brushing your neck while his hands continue their path of discovery. The pleasure blends with anticipation, and you can feel your heartbeat in every inch of your skin.

With unexpected gentleness, Oscar lays you down on the floor, making sure every movement is soft, almost reverent. The contrast between his strength and the delicacy with which he treats you is overwhelming, and you can’t help but tremble slightly under his intense gaze. There’s something in his eyes that goes beyond physical desire; there’s a connection you can’t explain, but feel deep within your soul.

His lips begin a downward journey across your body, kissing, licking, gently biting every part of your skin. The pleasure is intense, and you feel yourself drowning in a sea of sensations. Every touch from Oscar is a new flame igniting inside you, and soon you’re gasping, breath hitching from the pleasure that floods you.

When his lips reach the junction of your thighs, there’s a moment of pause, as if both of you are on the edge of a cliff, ready to leap. Oscar looks up into your eyes, and in his gaze, there’s a silent question, a search for permission. You don’t need to say anything; your answer lies in the way your fingers tug softly on his hair, guiding him where you need him most.

The first contact of his tongue on your clit is like an explosion of pleasure. A cry of ecstasy escapes your lips, and you arch into him, craving more. Oscar doesn’t stop; his tongue moves with skill and precision, exploring every inch, every fold, as if he wants to know you completely.

The pleasure builds with every movement, with every stroke of his tongue. His fingers join in, one, then two, sliding inside you with a rhythm that matches his mouth perfectly. The combination is too much, and soon you find yourself on the edge of orgasm, your body trembling with anticipation.

"Oscar!" you moan, and his name leaves your lips like a prayer, a plea for more. And he gives you more, increasing the pace, deepening every movement, taking you higher, beyond what you thought possible.

The orgasm hits you hard, and you let go, screaming his name as the pleasure consumes you completely. Your body tightens, then relaxes in waves that seem endless. Oscar stays there, prolonging the pleasure, taking you to new heights with every touch.

When the pleasure finally begins to subside, you realize you’re trembling, completely overwhelmed by the intensity of what you just experienced. Oscar moves up, kissing your body on his way to your lips. When his mouth meets yours, you can taste yourself on him, and that only fuels the desire still burning inside you.

"I need to be inside you," he murmurs against your lips, and his words are filled with a need that goes beyond the physical. It’s as if he needs a deeper connection, a union that transcends the mere act of sex.

There is no resistance in you; only acceptance and an equally deep longing. You nod, and your hands slide along his back, pulling him closer. Oscar positions himself between your legs, and you can feel his erection pressing against you, long, hard, and hot.

Slowly, he begins to enter you, inch by inch, as if each movement is a new discovery. The sensation is overwhelming, and you gasp as he fills you completely. The pleasure is intense from the first moment, and you can see in Oscar’s eyes that he’s also struggling to hold back.

"You’re so deep inside me..." you whisper, and your words seem to push him even further. With a moan, he starts moving, establishing a rhythm that is both gentle and passionate. Each thrust is deep, and you can feel him reaching places you’ve never felt before.

The pleasure grows, and soon you’re both gasping, your breaths mingling. Oscar leans down to kiss you, still moving inside you. The combination of the passionate kiss and the steady rhythm of his hips is too much, and you feel the orgasm approaching again.

"I can’t hold on," Oscar groans, and you can hear the tension in his voice, the fight to stay in control. But you don’t want control; you want release, you want to let the pleasure consume you both.

"Yes," you murmur against his lips, and those words seem to be what he needs to let go of the last shred of control. He increases the pace, thrusting harder, deeper, and every stroke brings you closer to the edge.

The orgasm hits like a tidal wave, sweeping you away completely. You scream his name as your body tightens around him, and that’s what pushes him over the edge as well. One final, deep thrust, and Oscar spills inside you with a groan that’s almost a roar of release.

The two of you lie there, panting, your bodies pressed together and skin damp with effort. The silence that follows is full of meaning, filled with a connection that goes beyond words. Oscar drops beside you but doesn’t pull away; his arm wraps around your waist, keeping you close.

The feeling of belonging is overwhelming, but there’s no fear in it—only a deep, abiding peace.

"That was..." you begin, but the words catch in your throat. There aren’t enough words to describe what you just experienced.

"Yeah," Oscar replies, and his voice is thick with emotion. He doesn’t need to say more; both of you know what has changed between you in this moment. What began as an impulse has evolved into something deeper, something neither of you expected—but now seems inevitable.

[valtsv]

can you pitch tsv to me fandom propaganda style… like sell it to me. hook me in. what is it about

the silt verses is a folk horror/political satire/weird fiction podcast set in an alternate ambiguously modern-day reality that asks the question "what if gods (and their saints, and angels, and miracles) were real? what if they formed the core infrastructure of the society you lived in? what if they were sustained by human belief and sacrifice? what if this was just the accepted Way Things Are?" and then introduces you to a cast of characters for whom this is their normal daily routine, and shakes them up through a series of intersecting arcs and plotlines. it deals with a lot of compelling themes - including identity and personhood, how institutions of power are formed and maintained and the potential for abuses of that power even by the most well-intentioned who wield it, action vs. rhetoric and the power of words; whose story is worth telling and whose is erased or adulterated by those privileged enough to write the version that becomes the widely accepted canon, and how struggles for control of something as conceptual as narrative can become very real and legitimate fights for the right to have one's autonomy and personhood recognised, human connection and why it's both so valuable and so destructive, etc. - but the central question it unceasingly begs is "why do we continue to live like this? why do we accept that this is all there is? what will it take for us to care about what's happening all around us, every day, right before our very eyes? what will you do when you realise you've spent your whole life drowning, and every option for relief comes at a cost? how long can you keep telling yourself that you're not really drowning before the water closes in over your head and swallows you like all those before you?"

tsv takes a magnifying glass to the horrifying exploitation and cruelty that so much of our own society runs on, and literalises it, leading to what is often rather heavy-handed satire bordering on the parodic - but it does so with such grace and unflinching, grounded honesty, without preaching to its audience but without letting them off the hook, either. it recognises that we are all both complicit in and victims of our own collective slow grind towards annihilation, and it asks us "isn't this absurd? isn't this horrifying? is this really all there is? is there nothing we can do in the face of this seemingly insurmountable, inescapable self-defeating routine-turned-ritual? why should we, or shouldn't we, care? why should we, or shouldn't we, try to make a difference?" and it's brave enough to admit that it doesn't have all the answers. but it still tries. because the silt verses is, fundamentally, a story about hope - real hope; the difficult, unglorious, unrelentingly in need of maintenance kind that is, nevertheless, still worth every effort to inspire it. the silt verses is a story about why we get up in the morning and try again, even though it might never be enough.

it's also a very character-driven story, and the character writing is truly second to none. every character is a person, in all their infinite messy, human complexity. every character has the capacity for abject cruelty and incredible kindness; to be a significant influence on their reality and to be utterly meaningless in the wider context of things; every character has the potential to be both the hand that pulls someone to their feet in their hour of need, and the boot that grinds them further into the dirt, and every character is both of these things, at some point or another, to someone. every character is both the martyr and the one holding the knife. no character is a saint - not even the actual, literal saints. and while this isn't necessarily something that should be used as a selling point, the way this podcast handles the diversity of identity is fantastic, and never used tokenistically, or as a character's sole defining trait (though not all aspects of identity get equal consideration; the creator has acknowledged that he didn't tackle race as a topic much beyond examining the developmental factors of broad strokes "us vs. them" nationalistic identities, and the arbitrary nature of patriotic loyalty to one's nation when it runs on the same oppressive systems as that which is painted the aggressor, and some fans have pointed out that while diversity of gender and one's lived experiences according to one's gender identity gets plenty of focus, some things are left to implication and inference in a way that doesn't necessarily strengthen the story's themes).

anyway. not sure this is the "fandom propaganda style" pitch you asked for, but listen to the silt verses. it's a brilliant work of fiction and to my mind deserves to be considered a landmark piece of art (even if that does mean that some of my more fandombrained takes would likely come to be seen as unflattering misconstrusions of the source material that betray my personal deficiencies. well whatever it was fun i had fun.)

[caldella]

SINSMAS SPOILERS AHEAD

Fan theory time!

This part of this episode had me SCREAMING because I hope they're hinting at a headcanon/theory I've had for a long time!

The way this scene was such a DIRECT callback to S1E1 Muder Family, down to looking through a window and one of them being hesitant to go through with the job because there's a happy family?

In Murder Family it was the same situation (murdering someone responsible for a marriage falling apart), but Blitzø didn't think anything of it even though he had done the same with Stolas. Blitzø and Stolas' situationship vs. Stella could've well been a Martha and Mrs. Mayberry situation, if you remove the later knowledge he and the viewers didn't have at first. Mrs. Mayberry as a client could have very well been a Stella if we didn't know the context later in the episode said otherwise. Mrs. Mayberry was more angry that the public viewed Martha as a hero for surviving being shot than anything else.

And the entire Sinsmas mission making Blitzø hesitant, because now he's realizing that he relates to his target? Like, suddenly he's examining that his revenge murder stuff isn't always the best solution, and this might be hurting someone who has been through shit and should be happy? That he could be killing a Stolas or a Blitzø? That he could be ruining a family of kids like Loona and Via who don't deserve it?

That maybe like he's been doing with his personal life, he should be asking some more questions about the impact of the jobs he's taking on, too? Add in the way Blitzø insists constantly that he's an assassin, not a bodyguard, but he is super protective of his loved ones and has proven to be really, really good at saving people...

Incoming IMP revolution theories might mess this up, but I am going to be SO, SO HAPPY if the eventual end-of-show route for IMP is that they transfer from murder to being bodyguards for hire. Like IMP is now Imminent Murder Prevention or something. Blitz is getting over his mentality that he can only make people's lives worse, and what better symbolism for that than his entire company eventually being devoted to protecting/saving people instead of destroying them?

They still get to fight/shoot/kill if needed, but to help instead of harm. The absolute symbolism. The way that would probably be really good for Blitzø's mental health once he makes that connection because he loves helping people he likes or thinks need it. Moxxie might like it, too. Just everything about this possibility.

I would love it SO MUCH.

[litsenn]

Hi, I hope it's alright to ask your thoughts on something about Astarion. I just think your posts always show a very deep understanding of Astarion as a character, especially in regards to his complicated views on sex and intimacy, and I really appreciate and respect your analyses. I'm only on my second playthrough, so I like to hear from people who have played a lot more than I have.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Astarion’s state of mind in the first sex scene in act one (I'm currently writing about it). The more I think about it, his experience seems to be a very complex mixture of both positive and negative that exist simultaneously. These are just some of my current personal thoughts (all of this in the context of the PC being someone who treats him well and is generally a good person):

This is the first time he's getting to have sex on his own terms in 200 years, and that's probably liberating, in a slightly terrified and overwhelmed way. He is likely trying to convince himself that he feels more empowered and in-control than he actually does, because he needs that feeling. 

He knows the PC better than he ever knew any of his past targets, but he doesn’t yet believe that they truly care about him, either.

The sex ends up meaning more to him than he thought it would, but I also imagine it isn't exactly enjoyable for him, given his dissociation, feelings of disgust, and the fact that this was all just supposed to be an act. 

He is also probably struggling to reconcile the fact that he’s growing to genuinely like the PC with his belief that they are fetishizing him (this also connects with your incredible post about Astarion’s feelings about feeding on the PC at this point, and how biting during sex can be enjoyable for him, though still uncomfortable in that he views it as transactional) 

He feels like his performance here is important to his survival, because in his mind he is using sex as currency to get the PC on his side. The transactional nature of it is probably comfortable in its familiarity, yet no less disgusting for him.

 So what I’m ultimately trying to ask is: 

In your opinion, how much of this experience feels positive to him vs negative? 

Which of the feelings mentioned above do you think are at the forefront of his mind going into the encounter? Which ones “win out” over others? Are there more factors I forgot / didn’t list?

(I hope I made this sound somewhat coherent. I’ve had a hard time articulating my thoughts about this scene.)

First of all, thank you so much for your kind words 😭 I’m always very touched when people say they enjoy reading my stuff. I don’t know if my understanding of the character is so relevant, all I can say is that I relate to him on many levels, and therefore I analyse him from my personal perspective. Which also means that my posts are just one interpretation among many others.

Now, concerning this scene, there’s a lot to unpack. And I first have to say that there is no clear answer to the question "Did he enjoy it or not?". IMO, it will always be yes and no. And I'm only offering a personal analysis of this ambivalent situation.

Proceed at your own discretion because I’m going to talk about trauma, SA, sex-work and complicated relations to sex in general. Be careful.

Please, keep in mind that al of this is pure speculation (and forgive the typos😅)(and this post is long and chaotic, sorry).

I globally agree with all your points, and I love that you mentioned the complexity of his feelings during this scene. We can all agree that he has contradictive feelings about sex in Act 1. It's not just disgust, not just hedonism, not just attraction, not just manipulation: it's all of this and more.

And that’s one of the things I love about the writing of this character.

Sex is always complex (for everyone) but for survivors it’s even more complicated. And I love that Astarion’s narrative stands against the “perfect victim” tropes and the idea that SA survivors are incapable of enjoying sex. Despite the decades of SA, Astarion still enjoys it and wants it, but his desire is tainted with self-loathing, with fear. He deals with those through defence mechanisms and what I’d call “automatisms” from his former experiences and obligations.  

That's why before I answer your questions, I want to add one point which can also work as a foreword to the rest of the post: Astarion is attracted to the PC.

He says it during the confession scene, and there's no reason for him to lie at this point. Likewise, if the PC tells him they can be together without having sex, he's indeed relieved, pleasantly surprised, but he jests about it being a challenge.

I think there's some truth in those words: it will be somehow challenging. First because sex is the only kind of intimacy he's known for 200 years; it's will be difficult to "quit the habit", to discover and get used to new ways to get close to someone. Secondly, because he does find the PC attractive and probably wants to be able to have sex with them without feeling bad about it.

After all, it seems like he enjoyed sex very much before Cazador turned him, since at the beginning, he thought he could still enjoy having sex with his targets.

Meaning sex wasn’t something that disgusted him before all this. He might be able to remember (deep down) that sex can be 100% enjoyable.

Yet, it doesn’t necessarily means he’s now incapable of enjoying it; it only means that it’s going to be more complicated. He needs to rediscover how to fully enjoy it again – on his own terms – now that he’s free to give his consent.

Take the brothel scene for instance; if the PC has sex with Astarion and the Drow twins after dealing with Cazador, he's at first very excited about it. And I don't see any lie here, he's genuinely enthusiastic.

Unfortunately, during the orgy, he realises that it’s not for him ( not yet at least). Being with many people, and/or with someone that is not the PC is still an experience that triggers his trauma. But he didn't know that, he wasn't expecting his trauma to manifest. He wanted to do it, he wanted to enjoy it.

Not only he falls back into his old mechanism: sex as a performance, Astarion as an entertainer who must give the best performance to his partners, paying no attention to his own desire and needs. Followed by dissociation, which is something that happen automatically. You don't decide to dissociate. It's your brain switching off because the reality is too uncomfortable. It's survival.

Anyways, this bad experience is typical of what can happen to someone who's healing. It's normal. You want to explore your sexuality, and sometimes it works perfectly well, and sometimes not. That’s what healing is about. It's not linear, and sometimes it's messy.

It is true that some SA survivors are perpetually sex revulsed. And some of them become sex-addicts. And for most of them, it’s somewhere in-between. Still capable of enjoying sex VERY MUCH, but also finding themselves disgusted by sex sometimes for reasons they can’t really explain. There’s no rule as to how survivors experience sexual attraction. 

All of this to say that it is clear to me that Astarion experience sexual attraction, that he is attracted to the PC and that even in Act 1, an important part of him wants to have sex with the PC.

Back to your points.

Control, habits and defence mechanisms

I like how you said he “is likely trying to convince himself that he feels more empowered and in-control than he actually does, because he needs that feeling.”

There’s definitely something in his mind that still thinks as a slave, something which believes that he must have sex to be safe. Because it was the case for as long as he can remember.

Seducing people, sleeping with them without thinking about his own needs, that's part of his habitus. His body has been a tool for so long that he still sees it as such.

It’s ingrained in his mind, and even if he’s regaining his agency, some of the seeds planted by Cazador persist in his mind (and will until the Act 2 confession). Astarion says it himself, it's instinctive. And as you put it, it's somehow comfortable, it's charted territories.

A part of him tells him his only value relies on his sexual skills. Therefore he associates sex to a “safety net”. But he probably hasn’t acknowledged that yet in act 1; he prefers to lie to himself and to pretend he’s sleeping with the PC because he has become the puppet master. It's easier to think that way. But in fact, it was just a automatism, his survival instinct. So even if he’s really attracted to the PC, Astarion is still driven by fear and by a need to control how the PC feels about him (precisely because he's so afraid to lose control over the situation). And sex is the perfect tool for that. His body is the perfect tool.

[I can recall a few numbers of times when I had sex with people while lying to myself and pretending I 100% wanted it, pretending I was the one in control, when in fact, I had sex with those persons for reasons that had nothing to do with my own desire. It doesn't mean I didn't find them attractive, it doesn't mean I regret having sex with them, but it still means that my motivations weren’t what I thought they were, that my decision to have sex was still controlled by something else in my mind, something different from my actual desire. I acknowledged it months and sometimes years later.]

When Astarion welcomes the PC in the clearing, he’s performing. When I say he’s performing, I mean in the way he presents himself as as a person craving for sex, and he expresses his desire as such. He puts on the mask of the “mysterious sexy vampire”, keeping his voice low and his smirk sharp. He plays his part, the one he's played for years. He pretends to be the lover he thinks the PC wants him to be, the overly seductive vampire with his exaggerated declarations.

I think there are several ways to explain why he feels the need to perform:

It has always worked with his target up to now

That's the only way he knows

The exaggeration is also a shield behind which he can hide his vulnerabilities

Let me explain that last point : Saying a simple “I’m attracted to you, I want to be with you tonight”, without all the grandiloquence, is not something he would do at this point (even if that's how he feels), because that would make him look vulnerable. That would mean being honest with himself and with you, letting you see his raw desire, so to speak. It would feel too real (I purposely insist on that word and you all know why), and it's easier to exaggerate the whole thing and to pretend to be the hedonistic and over-the-top vampire. After all, he’s confident, he’s been doing that for years. He knows it works. He knows he’s hard to resist.

But when you think about it, he's obviously lying, saying he wanted this to happen since his first meeting with the PC... Come on, the first time they met he was ready to kill them.

It's a lovely lie, just like the "I love you" during his second proposition for sex (I talked about it here), but when you look into it, it's far grimmer.

Once more, there's a parallel between sex and death: "to have you"= Killing you. I already talked about that connection here, so I'll just quote myself: "It's possible to see Astarion's offer to kill you as a foreshadowing of him offering you to have sex with you. And considering what sex means to him at this point of his life - a tool to manipulate, which can lead to his partners to death - the parallel between the two in early act 1 makes a lot of sense to me."

But oh! µTav/Durge survived that first night with him! The PC is still here in the morning! That's new! It never happened to him before, waking up next to his partner. He needs to control this unusual and terrifying experience! Quick!

So I tend to think that the little remark about the PC being loud all night falls along those lines. He displays his (exaggerated) hedonistic and over-confident part of his persona, as a way to reassert that he’s the one in control. As if saying, reminding them: "I made you (the leader of the group) scream all night because I decided to, and everybody knows about it. I’m the one calling the shots.” 

But I think it's also as way to hide how he really feels about that night. So instead of opening up and saying how he feels about it, he teases the PC about their own enjoyment. Another defence mechanism.

And yet, the mask cracks a little bit when he asks if the PC wants to lose themselves in him; he suddenly looks terribly sad…

he asks for a consent he was never able to give before that

That’s probably a line he’s said thousands of times before and those who agreed did get lost… in death

It brings him back to the feeling of being a toy for others to enjoy, for people to use so they can "lose themselves"

The look on his face here is what he's trying to hide during this scene. He's wearing that mask (which will come back later if you ascend him), because he needs to protect himself. I'm not even sure if he acknowledges it at this point. It's an automatism.

But I believe that, as the night unfolds, he finds himself enjoying it.

Maybe it's just me, but I tend to feel like he’s getting more like his playful and silly self when you let him bite you. Whereas if you trust him to not bite, he keeps on performing, in control, like he was told to do by Cazador. 

If you let him bite you, you roll on the ground and he looks pleasantly surprised. And I think he starts to have fun here.

(Shadowheart, please)

And I think he can enjoy it even if he dissociates. As I said, the switch is automatic when the brain finds itself in a situation that represents some kind of danger or discomfort. For two hundred years, Astarion experienced sex in a way that was all but comfortable, sex he didn’t really want. It makes sense that his brain automatically switches off. Even though he’s having a good time here, intimacy itself is a trigger, no matter how much he's enjoying it. It’s instinctive, just like flirting is instinctive to him, paradoxically.

And I find the way he explains it quite interesting: he pretends it’s because of his bloodlust, because he didn't want to get carried away.

You see in his eyes that he’s lying. And I kinda like it because it’s sooo relatable. Finding excuses to justify dissociation or plain detachment during sex? yeah, that something I did, with answers along those lines: “I didn’t want to hurt you/I didn’t want to be too intense/I didn’t want to be too loud/I didn't want to scare you/I'm a little tired/etc."

And I still think he enjoys it even if he’s not 100% into it. He keeps his distance (mentally, emotionally) and it’s normal because he’s careful, because he doesn’t really know how to let go. And (healthy, happy) sex is about letting go completely, it‘s about trusting someone and allowing yourself to be completely free from your mental and physical restrains and automatisms.

It’s easy to understand why he can’t fully let go: he’s afraid, because he’s not 100% sure he can enjoy this, because he doesn't know how the PC will behave, and because he must be in control to feel safe.

His body knows how it works, so he lets his body act automatically,  that body which have danced the same dance thousands of time. He doesn’t have to think and it’s easier not to think. Easier and apparently safer than following his true desires. Here again, it's an automatism: his body knows, he can switch his mind off, protecting it from potential bad memories, protecting him from his own desire and feelings, protecting him from the temptation of being himself.

He can’t let go, he has to be in control. if only to make sure he will offer his partner the best performance. Even if he's enjoying the moment because the PC is respectful, playful, gentle or whatever you imagine for this first night, he can't let go.

As you said, he’s convinced the PC is only here for his looks – But think about it: Astarion himself never offered anything other than sex, he didn’t pretend he was in love with the PC. He only offered his body. By doing so, he's also protecting himself from potential feelings (theirs or his) of attachment and affection.

It's like saying “Don’t get attached to me. It’s just SEX”. He pulls up his own walls to keep the PC outside. It's another contradiction: he suffers from being seen as a beautiful and shallow individual who’s only good for sex, but he says upfront that he won’t give more than sex. He keeps the PC away (emotionally) while suffering from it. That’s another defence mechanism, combined with the fact that he probably still sees himself as a "mean to an end" (unconsciously), unable to see that he can be someone else than the "hedonistic and heartless vampire."

Besides, it's probable that he doesn’t believe it’s even possible for anyone to care about him. So he anticipates a potential emotional disappointment by saying that it’s only sex, convincing himself as much as to convince the PC that there’s nothing more to expect from it.

Positive/negative experience

You asked how much of this experience feels positive to him vs negative. Let's recap.

Positive feelings:

Excitement (first time having sex on his own terms + he’s attracted to the PC)

Physical pleasure (sex + blood if the PC lets him bite them)

Fun

A sense of freedom

Relief and a sense of pride (they fell into his trap)

A newfound affection (they trust him, they respect him)

Good surprise (he can still have fun while having sex!)

The PC being who they are (more about this later)

Negative feelings:

A sense of obligation

Fear

PTSD

The need to perform and make sure they enjoy it

Habits that make him serve instead of just enjoy the moment

Guilt

Shame

Confusion

Disgust

Feeling of being used (even if the PC isn't exactly "using him"; they accept his offer and they're not to be blamed for it)

One could think that the negative feelings are more important, and true, those bad feelings can be destructive. But I don’t think the unbalance is so evident, maybe because the positive feelings are all completely new to him, therefore they may be particularly powerful.

But in fact, they're all entangled and messy, and I believe Astarion himself can’t really make sense of them.

And later, he sums it up all on his own.

What we know, is that a few days later, he remembers that night as a good experience. And exceptionally good experience.

And tbh I think that’s what matters: What he makes of this night, how he digests and, remembers it, and how he looks back at it. It was special. Special enough for him to admit it.

He admits it feels different with you, it feels good with you -- but he can't yet get rid of the negative feelings sneaking in the back of his mind, ruining what should be a lovely moment.

As for the main feeling at the forefront of his mind… I don’t think it would be one feeling, but more a motivation: “I must stay in control” (whether he succeeded is up to discussion). In the end, I think he manages to suppress his main fears, to keep a certain distance, while at the same time finding himself surprised to be enjoying it.

Questionable motivations and enjoyment

As a SA survivor myself and a former sex-worker, there are so many things that fall close to home both in terms of ptsd, of performance and habitus. I perfectly see how desire, obligations, attraction and disgust can mingle until they become difficult to set apart. {Mind you, I’m not saying that sex-work and sex-abuse are one and the same, far from it. One can be a sex-worker and have never been abused].

In the case of Astarion, he’s first and foremost a survivor, and even if he compares himself to a prostitute a few times, he had no choice in doing it. Therefore, it's not sex-work, it’s human trafficking.

Yet, it's still transactional, and just like a sex-worker, he had to perform, to let the partner(/client) believe that he wanted them, that he wanted it, that he was enjoying it, even when it wasn’t the case. Remember how he made Sebastian believe he was head over heels for him.

During the first night with the PC, Astarion decides to have sex without anyone forcing him to do it. But he doesn’t do it out of sheer lust and attraction. He does it because he wants to keep himself safe and he thinks that’s the only way. Which is, imo, closer to what a sex-worker would do: having sex for money because they need that money to pay the rent or whatever they need to survive. No one is forcing them, except the material conditions and (in Astarion’s case at least) cognitive bias (the belief that he’s “only good at that”) + long terms habits.

And just like a SW, he has to make them believe that he's totally into it (believe me, client don't enjoy it as much if the SW doesn't pretend to be attracted to them).

Look at him, he’s performing. He's said those lines multiples times before. Even the movement of his hand: it’s theatrical. It’s planned and calculated.

This too is instinctive. He's done that for years and he is good at it.

Look at the shift, look how easy it is for him to put on a smiling face to "open a lot of doors" (and legs).

And after pretending to be attracted to those persons, he had to pretend sleeping with them didn't affect him. That too falls close to home.

That line in particular. SO FUCKING RELATABLE IT HURTS.

In my experience, there had been bad experiences. But you go on, because you need to. And to protect your own sanity, you stick to the idea that it's fine, that you can do that again. That it doesn't matter.

But it does matter.

And yet....

In the case of SW (which should always be consensual), being with a client can be a nice experience. Some clients are attractive, some clients are very sweet and respectful, some clients are very good fucks, some clients are all of this (and some clients are bastards but we’re not talking about them here). In any case, they are still clients. As a SW, I didn’t see them as potential ‘real’ lovers, and I wouldn’t have considered sleeping with them in any other situation. It doesn’t mean the experience was bad. I had genuine O with some clients and really enjoyed the company of some of them.

It seems contradictory, but it's real.

Back to Astarion: at the beginning of the meeting it ultimately starts with a performance, like the SW pretending they really want it (whereas they're only do it for money), but it might turn into a really good moment for everyone involved.

And IMO, that's more or less what's happening here with Astarion.

It's a tricky thing to explain because I really don’t want to look like I’m promoting forcing anyone to do anything. Sex should ALWAYS happen in a situation in which all the persons involved are 100% sure they want to do it, and 100% sure their partner(s) want to do it.

But there are exceptional situations (such as sex-work or what Astarion’s going through here, and I can think of other cases), where sex remains enjoyable even if the original motivations weren’t that clear. It’s not fully incompatible. Clearly, that’s NOT a healthy way to deal with your sexuality!!! But it can happen. And the main point here is that it still relies on consent. The person fully consents to do it, but they do it for “questionable” reasons (whether they acknowledge it or not), and they enjoy it in spite of having questionable reasons to do it. It can happen.

I think that’s what happens to Astarion at this point.

(That being said, I repeat it: ALWAYS make sure your partner is fully into it, and NEVER force yourself to have sex if you’re not 100% sure you want it!)

From a transaction to something else

It’s interesting to notice that if the PC refuses to have sex with him in the clearing, he doesn’t really seem to care.

He’s probably disappointed because his plan failed, but his reaction is very different from the reaction you get if the PC rejects him after the first night (my post on this matter here) when he seems really sad to be rejected. It means, I think, that this first night was REALLY meaningful – his heartfelt reaction to your rejection to spend another night together makes it clear. That first night was special since his reaction to your refusal is so very different.

In any case, if the PC refuses during that first night, he says he thought you had an “understanding", and it somehow evokes me something like a transaction (as you rightly mentioned in your message).

And it's not the first time he compares sex with the PC to a transaction. The first time he offers them to sleep with him, he presents it as a reward for letting him bite the PC. It's transactional: You let me feed, I give you sex.

He thinks that’s what sex is about. He has never known anything else, or maybe he did a long time ago but can’t remember.

I wrote that long post about how feeding him can be quite problematic given how he might see it as a transaction (here and here): Offering the the vampire bite kink in order to be fed and survive. It’s the same here.

He knows the PC enjoyed being bitten, he’s convinced they're attracted to him, and by being the one who gives "a reward", he presents himself in a position of control. I “allow” you to have sex with me, since you want it so much: I’m the one making that decision, having more power over you.

After all, in his mind at this point, sex is a question of power. (And if he ascends he undeniably falls back into that pattern; treating sex as a reward, as something to use to better control the PC)

You put it rightly in your message, there's also some sort of familiarity with that transactional system that is deeply comforting.

I won't lie, back in the days, it was sometimes difficult for me to be with someone who wasn't a client, because my partners then didn't expect anything from me. Whereas clients always expect something specific, if only in the SW's behaviour, or/and concerning the acts themselves. And it was comforting. I knew what I had to do to please them. But as I said, it didn't always keep me from having a good time with some clients. It's not incompatible. That's why I think Astarion can still enjoy it even though he's performing, and can get attached to the PC even if it started as something more or less transactional.

And that's precisely why it must have been so destabilizing for him!

After all, when that first night together happens, he appreciates the PC (you need enough approval to sleep with him). As you pointed out, they've already spent several days/weeks together, shared a lot things... That's new to him, sleeping with someone he knows and appreciates.

As a SW, I had defined through the years a clear line between people I met for the job, and people I met outside of it. There was no confusion between the two, even for the long-terms clients – even for the clients I cared about. I liked them, but we weren’t friends, we weren’t partners, we weren’t lovers. And we would never be.

I would say that in the case of Astarion, that separation exists, but it’s not as well defined because, despite his experience, all his partners were destined to end up dead (for all he knew) and he barely knew them anyway. He didn’t have to clearly define that separation because there was no opportunity, no room for him to get attached to them. He saw a target, seduced them, slept with them and they disappeared forever.

It was “easy”, he didn’t have to question the nature of his relationship with them. Whereas after that first night with the PC, they’re still there, alive, and they’re still being this great leader who cares about him and his needs, who values him as a person, someone whose company feels good. His habitus is all messed up and his mental pattern is no long relevant.

{From personal experience, and SW put aside, many years ago, before I really started working on my traumas, I forced myself to believe that I didn’t need affection, tenderness, care. I would never allow myself to cry, I refused to get attached to people (except some very close friends). Because I wanted to be in control of my feelings, I thought it made me look stronger, not showing any kind of vulnerability. I was 27 or 28 when I first experienced genuine tenderness and care while having sex and I realized that there was a softness inside me I had hindered for years and that I actually loved tenderness. Before that, I would run away at the first sign of affection, because it made me feel deeply uncomfortable (and vulnerable).  And when I finally accepted to experience it, it was completely destabilizing. It felt good, but I needed time to adapt.}

Astarion realizing that he wanted something real, soft, and gentle with the PC might have had the same kind of effect, but worse.  Because he was supposed to be manipulating the PC, to pull the strings, and he suddenly found himself being “manipulated” by his own feelings.

It must have been terrifying for him, realising that he could feel something like this. Because it means he doesn’t control himself (his feelings) as much as he wants to, as much as he thought he could. He "falls" for the PC, the expression itself being one of vulnerability.

For him, falling in love = falling into a trap. He was supposed to be the one crafting that trap, and he ends up being trapped by his (uncontrollable) feelings.

That's why he can sound so cynical about your affair. This banter is from Act 2 if you romance him:

He feels uncomfortable, not because you had sex, but because it actually means something, and he doesn't not how to deal with it. It's easier to joke about it than to admit that maybe he's not so much in control.

It's not the PC's fault

He’s hurt, he has PTSD, but he can now think by himself and make his own choices, for better or worse.

It’s normal for us, fans who know the rest of the story, to worry about him and to not want to have him do something he's not fully into. But we should give him some credits and let him experience sex his own way.

When you’re a survivor, sometimes you have great sex experience, sometimes your PTSD will ruin it, and you won’t be able to go through with it. Sometimes you have sex for bad reasons, sometimes you regret it and sometimes you’re proud of it. Sometimes you have healthy sex and sometimes you use it to hurt yourself. It’s normal. That’s what healing is about and how you learn to define your boundaries.

Astarion didn’t have any body agency for two centuries, it’s coherent that his first experience as a free man is driven by questionable reasons. You can’t expect him to immediately find a healthy way to deal with his sexuality.

For instance, if you don't sleep with him at the party, he spends the night with Lae'zel, and imho it's even worse.

She shamelessly uses him like a toy, and he knows about it. But it's still his decision to sleep with her, even if his motivations aren't "good". You can't take that away from him on the pretext of protecting him. He doesn't need that kind of infantilisation. Same thing when he decides to sleep with the PC.

The thing is that the PC can’t know. As benevolent and respectful and selfless as the PC is, it’s part of Astarion's storyline that they don’t notice anything. He does his best to keep the mask up because the last thing he wants is to look vulnerable to you.

And he knows it's not the PC's fault. He slept with them for questionable reasons and he feels bad about it; not because he thinks they hurt him, but because he knows he mostly hurt himself, and he feels bad for manipulating the PC.

He doesn't blame the PC for it, and I'm sure it's not because he's deluded by his sense of guilt. After all, he never blamed his targets for sleeping with him, even the "villains" among them. They're not the enemies.

Those who hurt him didn't hurt him because they accepted to sleep with him, but more probably because of their behaviours during sex.

Besides, if the PC uses the confession dialogue to trick him into sleeping with them again, Astarion accepts before realising how disgusted he feels about it, and there he blames the PC for it, because here they explicitly abused his trust, using his vulnerabilities against him. It's still difficult for him to say no, especially to someone he respects, but he can say no when he's not taken aback in his most vulnerable moments (again: he doesn't sleep with the PC at all if there's not enough approval). Sleeping with him that first night doesn't make the PC an abuser.

In act 1, the PC has no way to know how Astarion is feeling about sex, The PC is one that fool who wanted to love him...

Trust

I already mentioned how pleased he looks when the PC let him bite them, and I think it has to do with trust. They accept to spend the night with him although they know he's a vampire and they trust him not to drink too much. Look at his reaction if the PC warn him not to bite.

He's really disappointed, enough to put an end to this affair. The tone he uses here doesn't seem 100% genuine, though, masking indignation? frustration? sadness? I don't know, but the "it's about pleasure" sounds so fake to me.

He nonetheless decides to not sleep with the PC - he listens to himself and realises he doesn't want to spend the night with someone who can't trust him. The PC has taken back their trust and reduced him to his vampiric nature (as something bad). Whereas if they sleep with him, they show him that they accept him.

That’s what makes that night so special: not thanks to some sort of “collective ecstasy” but thanks to mutual trust. The PC trusts him not to hurt them. Astarion trust them not to abuse him. He’s not ready to be vulnerable, but he allows himself to enjoy that moment with the PC, despite his plan, despite his past. Because they've both come this far and the PC has proved him multiple times that he could rely on them. It’s a fragile trust at this point, but it’s still more than  what he’d ever had before.

An essential step

IMHO this scene is essential in the romance route. I know some players wished there could be an option to romance him without sleeping with him, and I perfectly understand why. Realizing that he might have not be totally into it is painful. It’s uncomfortable. I also understand that if the PC is demi-sexual/ace, it makes the romance road a bit awkward. And it’s a valid feeling.

You can romance him without sleeping with him as Karlach origin, and that's because it's Karlach. The tension arises from the fact she can’t and wants it so much (for good reasons), whereas Astarion can and wants it somehow (for questionable reasons). That road is specific to them both because they are a mirroring one another.

Karlach aside, the thing is that in terms of narrative growth and storyline, this first night is the starting point of his healing journey. For the first time in 200 years, he has sex in a safe environment. For the first time, he finds a partner who trusts him enough to sleep with him even though they know he’s a vampire who could bite them. For the first time in his existence he can have real fun while having sex, he can be silly and roll on the ground. And maybe during this moment, he’s no longer the “sexy vampire” but just a man frolicking in the forest with someone he's attracted to. And again, it's still his decision, no matter how "bad" his motivations are. We should give him some credit.

I think it’s a brave move from Larian to put the players in that situation, to make them face the harsh reality of trauma. The harsh reality of being with someone who has such complicated feelings towards sex because of their trauma. It’s real. Very real. And it feels good to be seen.

You don’t always know the past of your sexual partners. You don’t always know what’s in their mind when you’re sleeping together. And if you happen to learn the harsh truth, it stings.

The Act 2 confession wouldn't be such a powerful scene without the first night. Astarion wouldn't have appeared so brave. Telling the PC about his former motivations must have been incredibly difficult, telling them "I wanted it but wasn't really into it" is freaking brave, and it's a token of trust he gives to the PC. Without that first night, it would have fallen flat. The PC would have just felt some kind of pride for not falling for his flirting and...that's it. Good, have a medal. Instead, the narrative puts the PC in an uncomfortable position, asking them: "Can you accept that? Because that's what trauma looks like and it's ugly."

That first night is inherent to Astarion's storyline, and to its message. That man goes from someone whose only reason to exist is being a sensual, sexual being in a cruel environment - someone who cannot connect with others without sex - to a man who finds out that he’s more than that, that sex doesn’t have to be dangerous, that’s it’s so much more than a game of power. And when you compare his grandiloquent attitude during that first night to his behaviour in the graveyard scene, it’s even more telling.

Those two scenes need to exist side by side to make sense, to reveal the evolution.

Everything about him in the graveyard scene - his body language, the look in his eyes, his voice - is a reversed image of that first night. He’s at peace, he doesn’t have to use those stupid lines about “mutual ecstasy” and how he will “taste you”, he doesn’t look down on the PC or look away. He looks into their eyes and tells them with his own words that he’d love to have sex with them.

But you have to experience both situations for the graveyard one to be so powerful. To witness that beautiful evolution. And Astarion too; he has to experience a “not so real” night with the PC to know that he wants something real with them.

It makes it all the more meaningful and sweeter. And imo, the graveyard scene is so freaking hot! Much more than that first night! Because it's genuine. It’s simple. He knows what he wants, his motivations are clear. It’s a man telling his lover “I want you”. A man who's learning to decipher what he really wants and to express it. And it’s more than enough.

[Let’s be honest, it’s been quite challenging to write all this. I rarely talk about my past online (for obvious reasons) and this scene means so much to me. Analysing it feels a little bit like analysing myself. And if you ever went through therapy, you know how hard it is xD In any case, that’s still my pov, based on my personal experience. I don’t pretend I hold the keys to a universal truth about it. We all have our own experience and sensibilities, and all of them are valid, even if we don’t agree in our interpretations.]

Thank you again @rivereverie for giving me the opportunity to dig into all this. I hope my humble opinion will help.

Last thing, a moment a god I wrote a short fic about Astarion’s preparing himself for that first night, and it’s here.

[merakiui]

no because skully is actually so sad when you think of him in every context (platonic, romantic, a fleeting crush, etc) because imagine meeting this guy who is in a very similar situation to you (trapped somewhere in a new world with no friends, all alone, and everyone thinks he's strange because they just don't understand him) and so he can sympathize with you and your situation. he completely gets it, and maybe you just,,, get him. maybe in a way no one has before.

over the course of this predicament, you form a fast friendship that's very meaningful to both sides. for skully, it's finally a friend who can understand him and isn't a complete idiot like his dull classmates. he finally has someone. and you finally have someone who actually pays genuine attention to you, doesn't call to the front the obvious power imbalance between you (magicless human) and a school full of talented mages. for once, you're just (name) to someone. not the magicless human or the beast tamer or the person dropped in twisted wonderland from a far, far place. you're just (name). skully sees you for you, and you see him for him. maybe that's why he comments on how similar the two of you are so often because he wants to cling to this connection. maybe he sees parts of himself in you and you see parts of yourself in him.

it's a connection that seems so real and raw and heartwarming. right place, right person, you'll both think.

but all of that is rendered meaningless when you're destined to come out of the book, having forgotten all inklings of halloween town and its residents and, most importantly, skully. the one friend who could understand you in a world where no one is able to. and now whenever you look at the portrait of the halloween king you're filled with so much sadness and longing. but why? you've never met this person before.

you never will again. even skully recognized that when it was time for everyone to leave because when he leaves the book he'll be dead, but you're still alive. the both of you are from vastly different times.

right person? definitely. but you met him at the wrong time. a little too late.

or maybe in a bittersweet way it was the right time. even if you can't remember your experiences, the both of you imprinted something special on the other. when you think of halloween, you'll think fondly of that unique portrait and a grin that seems eerily familiar. and maybe if he was still alive today he'd feel comforted every time he thinks he's alone only to feel as though someone, if only for a moment, was able to really, truly know and understand him in the ways he hoped to be known and understood.

[starmaidengarden]

HIIIIII I love your writing so much I’ve only found out about your page recently but you really did impress me! And I specifically loved the cute headcanon and I discovered your page from them so can you please make cute headcanons with Scarabia? XD

𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐚 !

note : thank you so much!! I'm so glad you that you liked them!!

contexts: just some adorable headcanons about the Scarabia boys

— Kalim : Jamil : x gn!reader. no cw/tw. cute headcanons. pt4! Pic: Leo08ph on twt, dividers: uzmacchiato

Kalim Al-Asim ༉⋆｡˚

⭑.ᐟ He crafts exquisite, handmade invitations to various hangouts, even though you see each other every day. Each invitation is uniquely designed, often featuring detailed drawins or personal touches that reflect shared memories. It's as if he believes that every moment spent together, no matter how ordinary, deserves a special reason to celebrate, changing ordinary days into cherished ones.

⭑.ᐟ He has an endearing habit of wanting to hold your hand constantly—literally all the time. Whether you’re strolling down a street, enjoying the peace of a quiet park, or just lounging together on the couch watching a movie, his fingers are always intertwined with yours.

⭑.ᐟ He writes songs about you, pouring his heart into every lyric. Although his voice may be a little off-key, the joy that shines from him makes it impossible not to smile. Each offbeat note carries genuine affection that melts your heart.

⭑.ᐟ No event is too small for him to want you included. If there’s a festival happening nearby, he’s already grabbing your wrist, excitement glimmer in his eyes as he plans your matching outfits. His uncertainty makes even the most ordinary outings feel special.

⭑.ᐟ When it comes to hugs, his are truly something unique. Each embrace is warm and tight, enveloping you completely. You can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest, and in those moments, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you.

⭑.ᐟ He even surprises you with food deliveries, accompanied by handwritten notes that say things like, “I thought you might like this! Hope your day is as amazing as you are!” It’s these little gestures that showcase his thoughtfulness and make you feel incredibly special.

Jamil Viper ༉⋆｡˚

⭑.ᐟ When preparing your meals, Jamil always considers your favorites, selecting ingredients that reflect your taste. He packs your lunches with care, often adding little hearts drawn in the corners of the notes, each one a lovely reminder of his love that brightens your day.

⭑.ᐟ Jamil is extremely careful to your well-being. He gently nudges you towards healthier habits with soft-spoken advice—“You didn’t sleep enough again, did you?” His voice is laced with genuine concern, making it clear that he deeply cares about your health and happiness.

⭑.ᐟ when he cooks, he occasionally hums traditional melodies, lost in the rhythm of preparing a meal. It’s a sweet little quirk of his that he’s often unaware of, until you bring it to his attention. When you point it out, he smiles shyly, a hint of embarrassment sneaking into his behavior.

⭑.ᐟ Jamil has an impressive ability to mask his emotions, so much so that he sometimes seems to forget they exist. He carries a calm exterior, but beneath that surface lies a well of feelings that he struggles to express.

⭑.ᐟ However, once he allows you a glimpse into his inner world, it’s a profound experience. He becomes incredibly intense and protective, his demeanor shifting to reflect a deep emotional connection. Soft-spoken yet emotionally charged, he reveals a side of himself that is rich and complex.

⭑.ᐟ You comfort him after he burns out from taking care of everyone but himself? You find yourself comforting him after he’s exhausted from taking care of everyone else but himself, his vulnerability glistening in the moments of honesty.

⭑.ᐟ Cuddling in his room—a safe space filled with the remnants of his dreams and a few scattered fears—he finally opens up about pursuing those aspirations. You listen as he lays bare his thoughts, the weight of his ambitions mingling with his apprehensions, and in those intimate moments, you realize just how deeply he feels.

[vaguely-concerned]

when spite describes itself in lucanis' journals, it seems to consistently use the wording 'a small shade'. self-identified 'just a little guy (threat)' fhsak. I really like that wording, though. a shade, something cut off from the wholeness and living light that is the fade and made a shadow cast by someone else in the real world. 'small', under threat, vulnerable, sort of scrappy (and perhaps a little pathetic but in a 'don't touch me I'll bite!!!' kind of way haha).

I'm so in my feelings over how in the last journal it/he describes the two of them as 'a small shade and a wounded spirit sitting together', though. he's so confused and frustrated about what's going on with lucanis at the beginning, but once rook explains that lucanis isn't intentionally fucking with him, he's just hurting, spite seems to understand and accept that pretty readily (if not without some initial 'ugh FINE physical reality rules are so DUMB bitch you guys live like this' frustration lol). lucanis' early statements that spite doesn't, can't or won't learn are obviously bullshit and the game basically tells you so the moment he says it haha, but you know what. that is some deep learning spite is doing, and in like a year of being in the physical world too. I know plenty of actual real adult human beings who are not capable of that level of insight.

and also, as an aside... I think it's pretty conclusively proven in the series that spirits do have the ability to change and learn all on their own when they get the opportunity to and that it gets turbocharged for good or ill when they're exposed to the physical world. but I also wonder if some of it is the other side of the two way connection. just as spite flows into lucanis, surely that must happen after some fashion the other way too. does spite have some access to/come into contact with lucanis' kneejerk empathy response? to be in opposition to something or someone is not the same thing as not understanding them or where they're coming from, after all. in fact sometimes that can amplify the 'no no trust me I get it I understand. but fuck you doubly for it actually you still suck that why only makes it worse', so I don't feel that would go against spite's nature, even. lucanis already has such an interesting relationship to his own empathy all on his own -- he's a prime example of how 'empathy' and 'compassion' are not inherently the same process and one need not accompany the other. when he's in contract mode, empathy is just a knife, a way to understand people deeply so he can stab them better and more efficiently. when he's in family mode, empathy is accompanied with enough tenderness and compassion and warmth that it makes me feel ill to consider and makes it a bit hard for him to stay with, sometimes. it's the same skill/instinct, but shows up differently based on the context he's in. sure why not drop a demon in there and see what happens I guess lol. 'smells like tears and lying' anyone. spite's response to meeting compassion out in the world is 'GOD no don't make eye contact keep walking this is so fucking cringe', but uh. there's no way for him to escape it within the bounds of the person he's been frankensteined into, is there. aaaah it's so interesting.

there's something so fascinating to me about two souls who are so close they can't help but reflect and bleed into each other, but also remain two separate entities who can look at each other. and be mutually protective about it, clearly. augh.

[iscdisc]

Whiteboard doodles for today !

Tang Shen supremacy 5ever- 🫶

I desperately want a 2012 timeline to exist where Shredder gets redeemed (At least, as much as he can realistically speaking-) and Tang Shen never passes away- But I know it's kind of impossible for both those things to exist at the same time,, 😭 Lmao

But imagine if Yoshi (Splinter) acknowledged Saki's (Shredder's) deteriorating mental health (Which is canon. Have you seen this man in Season 4? LMAO) and tries to reach out more. Despite knowing how much his brother wants his dead. Despite knowing he's the reason his wife is gone and his daughter didn't know he existed for years / painted him as her Mother's murderer.

Because if you really dissect Saki as a character, he's kind of an understandable / "relatable" antagonist-?? His biological Father (Honestly whole family I'm sure-) was murdered by his new adoptive Father (Yoshi's), his entire clan was taken out and he was swiftly indoctrinated into the Hamato Clan as an infant, I'm sure he practically got the Naruto treatment from the Hamato Clan (Always being judged for descending from the Foot Clan, like he asked for that or something-), Yoshi presumably was treated significantly better than him + was most definitely the favorite child between the two of them when it came to their Father-

This is getting a little theoretical here, since we don't exactly know the timeline between Tang Shen and Yoshi & Saki, but my personal opinion is that:

Saki met Tang Shen first- He had a very surreal connection with her and finally felt understood by somebody / wasn't treated differently because of his bloodline connections, right. Probably because he still has a lot of growth to do as a person, they had a falling out and the relationship ended (Tang Shen absolutely being the one to call it off-). Then after some time she ends up being in a romantic relationship with Yoshi and stays with him. To me, this is the most logical course of events considering what we see in the S3 episode, "Tale of the Yokai"-

But the reason I explained all this is because I feel like this is yet another thing that Saki feels the Hamato Clan has stolen from him. He has nothing, everything that he did have was taken from him, and he's treated as some sort of vile creature that needs to be "shown the proper path". I also want to throw out the possibility that their Father (Yoshi's Father-) being an unreliable narrator, since we don't get a lot of context behind the Foot Clan and whether or not they were actually bad people- I know historically speaking, the Foot Clan has always been the villains in this franchise, but for 2012 specifically we never truly got any proof of that (in my opinion) prior to Shredder's reign as head of the Foot- You know what I mean? (Though I know this is yet another thing that can be chalked up to poor writing / world building-)

During the same episode, "Tale of the Yokai", we witness Saki openly call out Yoshi for not caring about Tang Shen enough and for not caring about him. This is something I'd also love to get into at some point, since I think this would've been a really deep and complicated Character Arc for Splinter to have potentially gone through ! Because in my personal opinion, I don't think Splinter doesn't care about the people that he claims to care about + love immensely, I just think he doesn't show it in the way that he believes he is showing it- He doesn't always understand how his actions are being perceived by those people, you know what I mean?? That's exactly why I say Shredder should have had a Redemption Arc and Splinter should have been a huge part of that, because at the end of the day you can understand why Saki is so upset as a person-?? All he wanted was somebody to genuinely love him for who he was and not try to change him or blame him for something he wasn't even alive for at the time. I think Splinter really needed to prove to him that he does love him. I also think Splinter should go through similar efforts with his sons first before making an attempt with Saki- Since I know a lot of people have issues with his parenting / feel he didn't love any of his sons except Leo (Which I half agree, half disagree- Also talking about Splinter's lack of self-awareness or situational awareness sometimes, I feel like that's why he never really addressed the favoritism with Leo.,, Because he was his Father's favorite child, so why would he have that kind of self-reflection when he didn't notice it between himself and his brother- You know? 😭).

The point is, I think Saki is just a deeply hurt / scarred man and because he was constantly left his own devices and quite frankly self-isolated, he just got worse and worse,, You can honestly see that deterioration throughout the series with how delusional he becomes towards the end- I promise I'll stop yapping after this, but can we talk about the moment that Shredder had during the S4 episode, "The Super Shredder" when he was describing constantly seeing Splinter in his nightmares and him having this condescending face all the time-?? 😭

[swizzlemynizzle]

Underneath the Noise

—————————————————————————

Masterlist

Chapter 6: Post-Party Panic

—————————————————————————

The morning sun slices through Y/N’s window like a passive-aggressive reminder of her life choices. Her head is surprisingly okay. Her feet, not so much. The muddy size elevens are still by the door—silent, damning—and her own shoes are God knows where. Possibly in the Thames. The memories of last night blurred at the edges, not quite comprehensable this early in the morning.

Her new flat is still half-unpacked. Boxes lean against the walls, a heap of wires sprawled across the floor like a tech-themed crime scene. But she’s buzzing. Giddy, even.

Her cold feet sting on the kitchen tile as she makes a coffee, an attempt to rejoin Earth after a wild night. As the bitter liquid coats her tongue, the memories feel a little clearer.

Last night keeps looping in her head like a glitchy highlight reel: tambourine guy, fountain dipping, George’s stupid smirk when she called him a hobbit by mistake. The way he’d looked at her—really looked at her—like he saw through the performance and wasn’t put off by what was underneath.

And yet, beneath the buzz, something sharp simmers in her stomach.

Chris’s video.

She’s not in control of how people will see her—how they’ll edit her, meme her, decide who she is based on five minutes of drunken footage and one out-of-context laugh. She’s been on the internet long enough to know how fast strangers form opinions.

She’s done nothing wrong. But still. Anxiety doesn’t care about logic.

She shoves it aside and refocuses on her streaming setup. At least this part she can control. Two monitors up, ring light plugged in, mic adjusted. Her little digital kingdom—home.

Her phone buzzes on the desk. It’s a message from Chris.

Chris:

btw—thanks again for being in the vid yesterday. you were class. don’t let the internet be weird. if anyone gives you grief I’ll just post an unflattering picture of George and redirect the drama.

She snorts. Then reads it again. She hadn’t even realised how much she needed that.

She and Chris had only met a few times before yesterday’s video, yet he welcomed her like a long time friend.

Another notification follows almost instantly—this time from WhatsApp.

New group chat created: CHAOS GOBLINS

Members: Chris, Bach, Arthur Hill, ArthurTV, George, Y/N

Chris:

everyone give a round of applause to Y/N for not bailing when we made her wade into a public fountain

Bach:

absolute trooper. also possibly immortal?

Arthur Hill:

I still haven’t thawed out. if i die tell the coroner it was for content

ArthurTV:

100% worth it. someone check on Pickle the ferret tho

George:

still think Y/N peaked at “clown shoes and Hot Bitch Ready To Party shirt” tbh

Y/N:

sorry that I’m setting fashion trends you all can’t keep up with

Chris:

love you guys

Her grin creeps up before she can stop it. Despite the cold floors and the lingering worry, the thread of connection weaving through her screen is warm. Real.

Her Discord pings next.

georgeclarkey:

you up for streaming today or are you still emotionally recovering from trench foot?

She blinks.

Then grins wider.

y/n:

depends. are you going to insult my shoe choices again or play COD like a civilised human being?

georgeclarkey:

no promises. get in the vc.

She joins the call and is immediately met with George’s voice, clear and low and just a bit smug.

“There she is. The woman who turned the fountain into her personal Olympic trial.”

“Jealous I outpaced you in the chaos Olympics,” she replies, slipping her headset on.

They load into a match. It’s easy, this. Banter bouncing between them like they’ve done this for ages—even though this is technically their first proper stream together.

He makes dry, ridiculous commentary.

She mock-scolds him for stealing her kills.

He starts humming Wonderwall at one point and she threatens to rage quit.

The chat, naturally, loses it.

@bananasformonsters:

why do they lowkey sound like a couple

@yourewatchingBBCthree:

"she turned the fountain into her personal Olympic trial" – I’m crying, marry her already

@justvibingirl:

how do they know each other?? is this a collab or a situationship??

She snorts reading the comments, but George—either oblivious or intentionally ignoring them—just keeps playing.

After two hours and several chaotic rounds, they finally log off.

Y/N slumps back in her chair, cheeks aching from smiling. She opens Instagram on autopilot, half-thinking she should maybe share a clip.

And then—

@georgeclarkey followed you.

Huh.

A second later, a DM pops up.

georgeclarkey:

sorry in advance for the influx of people asking if we’re dating. feel free to deny everything. or say we met in Tesco. up to you.

She stares at the message for a moment. Bites her lip.

Then types:

y/n:

Tesco feels right. Two hands met over the last salt and vinegar packet. Destiny.

The typing bubble appears.

georgeclarkey:

iconic. should probably get married for the brand alone.

She laughs out loud. Okay, maybe she’s going to be alright.

---

@madforgeorge

@wherethezoes-at

@sundarksposts

@clarkey4life

[tanobatcher]

first kiss

wolffe x jedi fem reader summary: a night out with your friend reveals a curiosity you want to explore outside of your jedi commitments. warnings: nonchalant final boss wolffe and suggestive content a/n: in my head, this is a continuation of moonlight with some time skip obv ~~ but i'm not listing them together since they are completely separate scenarios without any reference to the other. it's kinda fun thinking about this one shot with that background context tho idk but i'm saying this from a writer's perspective since i love a good buildup in general. also i'm mourning my first kiss fr i wish it was him :( another note...i think i have a problem with cliffhangers but ig that's my style atp

79's is loud, dark, and busy. It's exactly like the kind of place you were advised to stay away from as a youngling growing up in the Temple. There are all sorts of enticing opportunities that might tip anyone's self-control over the edge, opening doors your duties keep locked out of reach. It's not a rulebook you follow, though. It's a code. One that cautions against addiction—whether the item of interest is alcohol, money, or something less tangible like the ecstasy of interpersonal connections.

Sex. In other words.

"Is it always like this?" You mutter, unsure where to rest your eyes without staring at the entangled bodies scattered around the bar. But the intimate proximity between every pair doesn't unsettle you as much as the fact that they're all attached to each other by the mouth in addition to all the other places where they're shamelessly grabbing each other. Their movements are lazy and drunken. Unsurprisingly, this is the most popular commodity found at 79's. The pretty women, all exotic and eager, always turn heads and stimulate competition among the men simply trying to ease their nights during this difficult war. You understand their innate desires, even if you're forbidden to feel them yourself.

"I didn't think you'd approve," comes a response. It's quiet, but you hear the "I told you so" in it.

Tearing your gaze away from a particular couple directly in your line of vision, you glance up at your remaining company—the only person who didn't split off from your group in search of something else. His eyes are sharp as they meet yours, but he looks tired. You know this because his posture is relaxed for once, not at its usual state of stiff attention. It's obvious he's also bored, which is ironic. This is the only place where someone like him can do whatever he wants. Or so you believe.

"Why not?" You reply, not stopping a defensive edge from seeping into your question.

The answer is clear to both of you despite being left unspoken. You're a Jedi. Just a couple of hours ago, you had to clarify the rumored myth circling across the Grand Army of the Republic that "Jedi can't have sex." They can, you said. We can. They just can't form attachments. They can't fall in love. They can't feel anything more than what they choose to do, which never fully made sense to you as a youngling. It still doesn't. And still, you abstain from anything that jeopardizes your honor and denies your code. Wolffe might not follow the same way of life as you, but he knows what it means to walk that fine line. It's only natural someone as committed as him does, really.

"It doesn't feel like you approve either," you continue when he seems to ignore you.

"I don't not approve."

You roll your eyes at this clear avoidance of your statement. "Well, believe it or not, you don't exactly appear as if you're having a good time."

"Yeah?" He exhales a little roughly and leans back against the wall with an expression even more bored than before, "What does that look like?"

While his figure seems to take up more space as this conversation progresses, yours shrinks and attempts to hide from his judgmental demeanor. Still, you point out, "You're completely sober."

"So are you," he says, eyeing you warily.

"I told you not to hold back on my accord."

Irritation flashes across his gaze, but it's so brief that the moment nearly slips from your fingers. You're more focused on him than you think, though, because you suddenly feel something warm and angry radiating from his spirit. But why? Which one of his nerves did you strike this time? That always seems to be the case with him, which also begs the question of why he's even here. With you.

"I don't want this," you vaguely gesture a hand between the two of you, "To be a thing. You can have fun tonight, you know. I heard that we won't be on Coruscant for very long."

He only seems to hear the first part of what you just said since he merely repeats, "A thing." The two words put together on his tongue sound a lot more menacing than you give him credit for. Cringing at yourself as subtly as possible, you try not to reveal that you're secretly questioning your ability to hold a proper conversation with him outside of your battles and briefings. Embarrassing yourself is the last thing you want to do, but maybe he's banking on it.

"I'm saying you don't need to babysit me. I'm fine," you brush off, feeling your face grow hot as your eyes dart around the room instead of looking at him.

He hasn't moved an inch—not even his gaze—as he replies, "This isn't babysitting."

In any other circumstance, his short and vague reciprocation wouldn't frustrate you like it is now. But you’re dizzy from the noise and flashing lights, while a tight knot burns an ache in your lower stomach. It's humiliating to think that such an unfamiliar yet normal environment is causing your body and mind so much discomfort. It's even more humiliating to admit this aloud, especially to someone as unbothered as your commander.

"So, what is it?" You unintentionally snap, "Because I don't know why either of us is just standing here while everyone else..."

Wolffe raises his eyebrows at you. "Then we'll leave."

Your head turns toward him with incredulity. "No, that's not what I meant. You can stay, if anything."

"So, you're leaving."

Sighing, you fold your arms over your chest and cast another glance around the room. "Is that what you want?"

You sense his surprise, which can't even be confirmed by the look on his face—only your intuition. You're forced to expose more of your own truths when he asks, "Does it matter?" instead of revealing whatever he's feeling for once in response to your questions.

"A little," you hear yourself telling him unabashedly, "I wouldn't want you to feel like you can't...do anything when I'm around."

He scoffs under his breath and rolls his eyes at this, not even bothering to respond with anything else. You don't miss the slight curve of his lips that indicates his amusement, which can only be intended toward how out of place you feel at the moment. Funny to him, maybe. You can barely hear yourself over the blaring music as you shake your head and mumble, “Never mind. I’m being childish.”

“I’m sure things are different at the Temple.”

“Depends. Some Jedi know their way around.”

The breath he releases almost sounds like a chuckle, deep and close to your ear. “Guess you missed out on that.”

A joke, you think to yourself as you turn your body fully toward him. He’s already facing you, shadowed and distant beneath this lighting. Still, you see him clearly. Everyone else in the room is hardly recognizable, passing through your peripheral in blurry figures and faces while he remains still and centered before you. The music suddenly feels quieter, and the conversations seem to die down. You can hear yourself better when you tell him, “I’m trying not to…anymore. Miss out, I mean.”

Waiting for his reaction, you sink your teeth into your tongue just to feel that momentary sting without drawing blood. It’s a silly confession, but it’s the honest reason why you’re here tonight. You want to know what it’s like to feel that high everyone whispers about. Even if you forget all about it by the time the sun rises. Even if just for a second that sensation enters your bones and spills into your blood. Even if you regret it, too. The way you see it now, you would rather live with that than not know at all.

Wolffe looks displeased when he replies, “This is the worst possible place you could have chosen if you wanted to fuck someone tonight.”

Embarrassed again, you frown and say, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You couldn’t have meant it any other way.”

“There’s more than just sex. Don’t you know that?”

He startles you when he crosses his arms over his chest and leans closer just enough to make your heart race for reasons you’re afraid to unpack.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” he murmurs.

The softness of his tone sends a chill down your spine, contrasting the furious warmth in your face. It doesn’t take much to understand the implications of his words. But you’re not sure why they leave a bad taste in your mouth. It almost feels strange to imagine him in any of the situations occurring around the bar—hookups, flirtatious conversations, and much more when someone offers to go to the back or even leave this place. And just like that, when it’s all over, it’s never to be spoken about ever again. The art of detachment, which is somehow very aligned with the Jedi way.

“So, you do know how to have a good time,” you lean forward as well, “I thought you might have been just as lost as me.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint.”

“It’s not a disappointment. I’m also not surprised.”

He pauses with a guarded expression before carefully responding, “No?”

You shake your head. “No. You’re attractive. They’re attractive. It makes sense.”

He flicks his gaze to your outstretched hand as you vaguely gesture to some of the available women circling the bar before looking back at you. It doesn’t seem to bother him that you just made an extremely unprofessional statement just now, but you feel a tighter pull between the energy that flows from his spirit to yours. The reaction is there—he simply does a good job of hiding it. Unable to ignore this, you take a step closer to him and smile.

“I wouldn’t kiss and tell either,” you lightly touch his arm with a few fingertips, “We don’t have to make it a big deal.”

That flare of anger from before returns as he grabs your wrist and pulls back. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“I do,” you disagree, “And I’d feel safer if it was you. We’re friends.”

He makes a face that almost has you believing he’s in pain for a moment, but he quickly regains his composure before you can ask.

“If you’re scared, then you shouldn’t be considering something like this at all,” he says coldly.

“I’m not scared. I trust you.”

He stares at you in disbelief and squeezes his fingers as if he’s trying to convince himself to let go. Before he can follow through, though, you step between his legs and clutch him by the forearms. This sudden movement brings your faces much closer together, and you can hear the ragged breath he takes once he realizes you have him cornered.

“Don’t do this.”

“You can say no.”

His eyes narrow as his jaw clenches. “Just for you to find someone else.”

You pause upon hearing the venom in his tone. “Does it matter?”

He holds your gaze, knowing you’ve taken his words from before. It’s another chance for him to admit anything he’s hiding, whether from you or even himself.

“It does,” he bites out, “If you’re going to be an idiot and not think this through.”

“I have thought it through. It doesn’t need to mean anything.”

“So, you jump in some bastard’s bed tonight, and the whole Republic finds out about it. What then?”

You wrinkle your nose at this hypothetical, which feels exaggerated and unnecessary to consider. “I know you wouldn’t do that.”

“I wouldn’t,” he glares at you, “But I’m also not offering that chance.”

“Because you don’t want…”

You don’t finish your sentence, realizing you sound more desperate as this conversation progresses. Snapping your mouth shut to process the rejection sinking in your stomach, you nod and begin to pull away from him. But he doesn’t let you. Studying his face with curiosity, it’s clear that he’s much angrier than before. The burning, hot irritation is simply climbing higher and higher the longer you stay near him like this. So vulnerable as if you’ve given yourself up to him. He’s not holding you by the wrist anymore but by the hips with both hands now, shifting your body closer and greedier.

“Let go, Wolffe.”

“You’re being naive.”

Averting your eyes from his, you look down where your frontside is nearly flush against his. “I don’t need a lecture.”

“What you don’t need is to sleep with someone just to feel better about yourself.”

“Isn’t that what everyone does?” You hesitate before pushing at his chest a bit, “What you do?”

When he doesn’t answer your question, you’re certain there’s no point in staying here any longer. You turn your head a bit to look around, but he seems to mistake this as an indication of your next destination—someone else. It’s unclear why he even cares, especially if he’s turning you down like this. That is, until you feel his hands travel across your upper body. His touch isn’t heavy at all, hardly burning holes through your clothes, which tells you he’s still trying to be careful. But the weight of this action is a lot more difficult to bear than the actual experience itself. He settles his palms across your waist, spreading his fingers out as if to cover as much surface as possible. It’s almost too gentle for someone like him.

Turning back to him, you nearly lose the breath you were just about to exhale. It gets stuck in your throat, constricting your insides into a whirlwind of squeezing nerves. This is the same Wolffe you’ve known for a couple of years now. The same Wolffe who’s never made any move to touch you if he doesn’t need to. The current look in his eyes is wildly different, though. It’s the reason for your pause as you try to recognize the hungry darkness threatening to swallow you whole. And maybe, if you push a little harder, it just might.

“You want me,” you whisper, “I can feel it.”

He closes his eyes. Opens them slowly. “Careful.”

But you’re already treading dangerously. Inhaling a deep breath, you let your body lean into his touch a little more. Closer. Even closer when he applies some pressure to his hands. He’s looking at your lips in anticipation of a kiss, which is becoming imminently unavoidable with the little distance that remains between your stolen breaths. Nervous, you steady yourself by bracing your hands against the solid plane of his chest and feel some vibrations when he finally speaks.

“I’m not kissing you just so you can prove your point.”

Your lips part as your breath hitches upon hearing how hoarse and desperate he sounds despite the indifference in his words. You almost have him where you want him. Time seems to slow as the room empties, but only in your imagination. All that occupies your consciousness is you and him in each other’s arms.

“Then kiss me because you want to.”

You hear a soft curse sound from his lips, and it’s almost sweet. It’s not rough and mean like the version of him you’re used to. The version of him you suspect you’ll still like, even after this whole situation becomes a forgotten memory. Maybe it won’t even make it to that point, because he still hasn’t kissed you. You pull your head back just a bit with the intention of saying something, but that only worsens his irritation. It also provokes the reaction you’ve been waiting for. There’s something impatient about the way his mouth claims yours, even though he’s the one who wasted all this time in the first place. Both of you are wondering the same thing, though. What took so long?

Your eyes flutter shut as he slows the kiss, letting it linger before pulling away. Still holding you close, he rests his forehead against yours while catching his breath in a few short exhales. You can see his heavy-lidded stare through your lashes when you open your eyes, also breathing deeply to savor the last of what’s already gone. But just as you accept this is over, he cups the back of your neck and leans in for more. And when he kisses you again, you know this time is the real him—the one that isn’t holding back anymore.

You gasp against his mouth when he pivots your bodies and pushes you into the wall that was just behind him. While you’re too far gone in his embrace to care if anyone sees you like this, he seems to remember your status outside of these walls. Covering your figure with his, he takes your surprise as an opportunity to kiss you deeper. His lips part yours wider with a low groan that wracks a shiver through your shoulders. He feels you tremble against him in that moment, caressing your jaw with the hand cupping your neck. His other arm holds you steady, gentle unlike the way he’s kissing you now.

It’s almost hard to keep up as everything intensifies. He’s still kissing you slowly, but it’s not lazy like the speed might suggest. Everything about the way his lips open and close over yours, sucking roughly when you sigh, speaks to his calculating nature. You wind your arms around his neck and drop your face to his chest when he nudges his thigh between your legs, applying just enough pressure to stimulate yet another foreign feeling you want more of.

“That feels…” you gasp softly as he slides his thigh deeper between your legs and kisses your neck, “…Good.”

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he groans into your skin.

You shake your head and tighten your arms around him, afraid he’ll walk away now when you finally have what you want. “I don’t care. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“To you.”

The response sounds bitter as it gets lost in another kiss you’re not sure who initiates. All you can feel is his mouth slipping over yours with barely any air to breathe between your kisses. He pulls back just to kiss you again—harder, angrier, and rougher as if to tell you something he can’t admit aloud. His hands are now clutching at your clothes, dragging slightly before pausing like a reminder of not to get carried away. You feel the feverish desperation beneath the fabric, though. You want to feel it even closer if it means feeling him closer.

“Wolffe,” you manage through another kiss.

“Mhm?”

“We can leave. Go somewhere else.”

He seems to consider it as he sucks on your neck just above your collarbone, but it isn’t until he pulls back and sees your face that reality sinks in. Your stomach drops when his expression blanches, growing cold and distant once again. The regret is clear as it writes itself all over his hard stare, one that you never expected to be so disappointed to see. Maybe if you hadn’t said anything, you wouldn’t have ruined a moment that never belonged to you in the first place.

“What’s wrong?” You ask quietly, even though you know the exact answer.

You. It’s you.

“This…was wrong,” he lets go of you completely and steps back, closer to the crowd that’s about to engulf him into disappearance, “I shouldn’t have done that.”

You try to reach for him, but he’s already so far. “Wolffe, it doesn’t—“

“Stop,” he avoids your touch, “I can’t.”

Some wounds sting at his words, but they bleed when he leaves without sparing you another glance. It’s suddenly so noisy once again, suffocating you with shitty music and boring conversations you don’t want to overhear any longer. The air has grown stale, but you still taste him on your tongue as his figure joins the blur of everyone else in this loud, dark, and busy bar.

[eiralunaire]

Damian Wayne/Reader latina.

Warning:AU soulmates, fluff

For as long as Damian Wayne can remember, he has lived with the intrigue of the phrase written on his right arm: "Green-eyed moron. You're an pendejo.". He knew what that mark meant, like everyone else in his world: it was the first phrase his soulmate would say to him. What he didn't understand was why, in a universe where soulmates meet with words of love or admiration, his was so insulting, aside from the fact that it had a Mexican word so he assumed his soulmate had Latin ancestry, it wasn't like it bothered him if that was the case. There was no context to help him understand the reason for that sentence, and, with his serious and analytical nature, he had questioned it more times than he was willing to admit.

Over the years, Damian became an expert at dodging that thought. Fighting crime in Gotham, following in the footsteps of the League of Assassins and being trained by the best didn't leave him much time to think about that future connection. But, like everyone who carried the mark, she knew that when she heard it, her life would change forever. An invisible bond, deep and strong, would be created with that person.

On the other hand, Reader had her own mark on her left arm for as long as she could remember: "Watch where you're going, garden gnome.". She couldn't help but laugh every time she read it. A "garden gnome"? Who the hell would say something like that when meeting their soulmate? Sometimes, she joked with her friends about how ridiculous her first interaction with her soulmate would be, but deep down there was always a part of her that wondered when it would happen. The idea that a simple phrase could unite two lives was both exciting and terrifying. And even though she wouldn't admit it, it also generated a certain amount of expectation.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a normal day in Gotham, which meant chaos was the norm. Reader had gone out to run some errands around the city. As she walked, absorbed in her own thoughts, she didn't notice someone coming straight in her direction at a fast pace, dodging the crowd as if it was part of their daily routine. Suddenly, the crash was inevitable.

“Watch where you're going, garden gnome! ”a male voice growled, deeply irritated.

Reader stopped dead in her tracks. Her head whipped around to the source of the voice, her eyes meeting those of the boy who had just spoken to her. Green eyes. Intense, piercing, and clearly annoyed. But that wasn't what stunned her. No, what paralyzed her was the phrase she had just heard. The phrase. That absurd phrase that she had written on her arm since she was a child. Her heart raced, and a feeling of electricity ran through her body, as if something inside her had clicked. There was no doubt: this guy was her soulmate.

But, instead of reacting with surprise or softness, the only thing that came out of her mouth was: “Green-eyed asshole. You're an pendejo.”

Damian stared at her, his features hardening for a split second before his brain processed what he had just heard. That sentence. His sentence. His damn sentence. The one he had seen on his arm his entire life. And there it was, spoken by this stranger, whose voice rang in his ears like a bell he couldn't ignore. He felt the same click, that connection he had heard so much, but had never really believed. An invisible force tied him to her at that very moment.

They both stood there, staring at each other in silence, as if the world around them had disappeared. The words were the indication that they were soulmates, but the bond they felt was deeper, a connection that seemed to have been waiting a lifetime to activate.

Finally, Damian was the first to break the silence, although his tone was still somewhat harsh. “You’re not very nice to your soulmate, are you?”

Reader laughed, a mix of disbelief and relief. “You didn’t start off with the best of phrases either, ‘garden gnome.’”

They both relaxed slightly at the strange situation they found themselves in. It was surreal, and yet so natural. There was something about each other’s presence that fit, as if, despite the bad start, the universe had put everything in its place.

Damian, still a little bewildered, couldn't help but look at her more closely. Despite the accident of the encounter, there was something about her that attracted him in a way unlike anything he had ever experienced before. His always logical and calculating mind was now challenged by the emotional connection he couldn't ignore.

“I suppose this means that... ”Reader began, not quite knowing how to continue.

“That we are soulmates ”Damian finished, nodding slightly.

She looked at him for a moment, still processing the reality of the situation. “I never imagined I would meet my soulmate this way.”

Damian let out a sigh, letting his guard down for a moment. “Neither did I. I thought... it would be different. ”He paused for a second, and then a small sarcastic smile appeared on his face. “Though, to be fair, the sentence made it clear.”

Reader laughed again, and although Damian was not someone who usually showed emotions so openly, he felt that, somehow, he had found a part of himself in her. A part that he didn't know he was missing.

[munnmolads]

Rafayel's bounty - Who is after him? Theory and Analysis

Why Rafayel has a bounty on his head and who is behind it? I'll explore all we know about his bounty from Chapter 7 and the possibilities behind it. Spoilers for the entirety of Under Deepspace, Land of Secret Flames and Long Lost Treasures World Underneath story as well as mentions about Long-Awaited Revelry.

The very common speculation about the bounty in the dark web is that Ever has placed on him - based off on the Long Lost Treasures World Underneath story, he is ranked sixth on their execution list. I have a feeling that Ever is not the only one after him - let's explore all the options.

Quick reminder - If you don't remember who Raymond is, he is the man who we met in Chapter 2 at his house with Zayne. He has been acting irrationally for a month and MC's mission was to find out if there were any wanderers involved. He has the Lemurian skeleton in his house as "art", and we learn during the main story that Rafayel painted the painting that makes him act irrationally. During chapter 7 we learn that Raymond died (last night specifically) and the painting Rafayel had painted vanished from his collection.

I have posted a separate post about Raymond's death and speculating if Rafayel killed him or not.

What do we know about the bounty:

It's posted on the dark web

It is a new bounty, so it hasn't been around long, there isn't any timeframe mentioned, but the message sounds like it is fresh

The "User323412" gets a referral payment for passing it along, so they likely aren't related to the bounty other than passing along the message

Rafayel was already aware of the bounty by the time MC learned about it and confronted him about it

The people who are targeting him are in the N109 zone

Rafayel claims the bounty is on him because someone in N109 zone wanted him to paint a painting as they discovered the secret that "could lead them to their hearts desire" and he said no

What conclusions we can draw from the bounty:

The bounty could be closely related to Raymond and his painting - the bounty's timing with Raymond's death and the painting vanishing from his collection while being related to N109 zone seems a bit too close to be coincidental

Someone who put the bounty is quite influental, atleast in the sense that they are giving out payments just to refer the job to someone

Also the referral payment makes me think it's quite urgent for the person who posted the bounty

Details that point out that the bounty could be from Ever

As mentioned before, Long Lost Treasures mentions that Rafayel is ranked 6th on Ever's execution list. This is in the context that the expeditions which Deepspace Academy have made to Lemurian ruins show protocore weapons, which complicates Ever into it. Rafayel is trying to protect those ruins and other Lemurians as best as he can, and most likely has made an enemy out of Ever because of that.

I want to mention that if Rafayel's bounty is the same thing as Ever's execution list, most likely Long Lost Treasures happen earlier in the main story of the game than in Chapter 7, possibly even before the main story begins. In Chapter 2, MC reads that Rafayel recently returned to the country and LLT mentions this as well. It would also make sense that he knows about it by Chapter 7. I want to talk about LLT's timing in a another post in more detail later though.

Ever is also quite influental in N109 Zone as we learn in Long-Awaited Revelry with Sylus. It probably wouldn't be out of the question to use dark web to their advantage when they want to deal with more shady business.

Something that really bugs me about this is that most of these aren't really related to Raymond other than that he has the Lemurian skeleton in his house. Also, if the timing with it happening well before Chapter 7 is true, the bounty isn't actually a new one, or that had been spread wider because of reasons. As mentioned before, I really feel like this bounty is more directly connected to Raymond.

In addition, Rafayel's reason about why the bounty makes very little sense - how an entire company would put a bounty on him because of he refused to paint a painting? It's not completely out of the question he would lie about that to MC, but we get to exploring more of that.

However I also want to point out that Ever has a motive to cover up Raymond's death, since we know from Zayne's story branch that since Raymond's death, Xander Sciences gets acquired by Ever. They also would have the perfect scapegoat right there, since everyone thinks Rafayel murdered Raymond. I don't know why they would want to put a bounty over his head because they want to cover Raymond's death - dead men can't talk and be proven innocent I suppose?

Why it could be someone else than Ever

Again, I feel the timing in the story for us knowing about the bounty is very important. Quite often the story tends to infodump on the player and then distract with another thing, but Chapter 7 is quite cohesive in the sense that most of the information locks in together quite seamlessly. We learn about Rafayel knowing about the illusion in the painting, what caused it and he even indirectly admits putting the it in the painting. I'm showing this conversation in a reversed order just to make my point about the painting being special.

He quite explicitly says this bounty is about someone wanting a painting like that from him too. His description of the bounty's placer doesn't really fit with Ever - maybe someone specific from Ever, but this sounds much more personal than a huge company trying to veer off people who could stop them.

Just after this conversation we hear from the journalist in 7-3 that Raymond is dead. This could be very much related why the bounty is new as it would be related to Raymond's death and to the fact that the painting had vanished from his collection room. This is why I think the bounty is heavily related to Raymond's death - we are getting all this info in such a short amount of time.

Something also that I really want to point out with Rafayel's brach story is that Rafayel specifies that he has other enemies than the people who put up the bounty, and he refers to Ever.

This is the main reason why I think the bounty from Chapter 7 is different from Ever's execution list. While Rafayel isn't exactly straightforward about many things considering his secrets, he still seems to be quite honest about the bounty. But even still he seems quite nonchalant about it - while his focus is quite pin-point on Ever. It would make more sense he would take the bounty more seriously if it was directly from Ever.

It also still leaves room for Ever having him in his execution list, as well as not tying Long Lost Treasures in a certain time.

Who it could be if not Ever?

I'll take out the boring answers out first. It could be a revenge bounty from Raymond's family, who thinks Rafayel killed him. I don't really think it's likely since the other details don't match with it, and as I said, a boring answer.

It could also be a nod to a 6th LI - I have seen the fan theories going around that the original 3 get their "dark counterparts" as the added LI's, such as Xavier having his "dark counterpart" from Sylus and Zayne from Caleb. This could be a subtle introduction to Rafayel's counterpart from the 6th LI. But we don't know much about them at this point anyway, so I feel I don't have much to do on speculating who that might actually be. Also, I feel the relations between the LI's aren't this straightforward.

Maybe this is just me readying my popcorn and waiting the drama to drop, but I feel it could be Sylus. There's the obvious connection to N109 Zone, but Sylus would also be aware that Rafayel managed to get hold of MC thanks to the painting that Raymond had thanks to the illusion in the painting. I am admitting I don't know much about Sylus' lore, but "lead to their heart's desire" sounds close to his words.

To my understanding Sylus is more the "If you are not useful for me, then I need to make you disappear" kind of guy. I wouldn't put it past him to put a bounty on Rafayel because of both being close to MC and him possibly being a threat to Sylus since he has approached Rafayel.

He also would have the reason to take the painting - maybe his thought was that MC will follow that painting to reveal the secrets behind it. I want to point out about Raymond's death is that it didn't leave any traces behind - such like the Ever researcher Sylus killed years ago according the voice recording we hear before learning about Rafayel's bounty.

I feel like all these pieces of information being presented in such a small timeframe - 3 chapters to be exact - Sylus' voice, Rafayel's bounty from N109 zone and the reason for the bounty and Raymond being dead, it feels very intentional.

Both Rafayel and Sylus are aware of each other

This is going on a bit of a side tangent since I'm just really into this, but also it's clear Sylus and Rafayel are aware of each other. If you look back on Chapter 7, you will notice MC never at one point mentioned her target being Onychinus, but at Chapter 7-4 Rafayel mentions about becoming a bait for Onychinus. I'm 50-50 on if it's something that was overlooked during writing the story or if it's a hint on Rafayel knowing more than he lets on, but I'll lean towards the latter.

I really, really would want to talk more about Rafayel's line in the Nest, but for now I'll just point out the similar language he used with person he's talking with. Considering that this is all happening after we learn about the bounty, I feel Rafayel's actions could indicate him trying to get rid of Sylus in self-defense.

We also hear some small mentions about possibly Sylus learning about the people attending the Nest during the Hunting day in Midnight Stealth, and then Luke and Kieran taking care of some "clean up" the day after.

Of course this night could also refer to something else, but atleast it would feel bit silly to include this in the story so deliberately if it wasn't about the Hunting Day. You could argue that Midnight Stealth isn't part of the main story, but I do feel it's very connected to it since it is about retrieving that brooch from Sylus that he tells to get from his person, and the main story continues from MC getting the brooch. This also could be why Rafayel is hiding from Sylus as mentioned in one of the previous screenshots since Sylus is aware Rafayel was there.

I have seen some other stuff that could also indicate some extra references between them. but unfortunately one of them is from a affinity call from Rafayel that I'm getting soon-ish hopefully, but it will take some time, so I need to put all that to a different post when I get more familar with Sylus's myths and other lore meanwhile.

What do you think? I think I will go insane if we don't get to know more about Raymond's death and Rafayel's bounty soon. I don't want to close the possiblity for the bounty coming from Ever, but I feel the bounty is much more deeper and meaningful than just Ever being the only big bad meanie to Rafayel.

[spamishmoss]

ADVICE FOR BEGINNER PRACTITIONERS

I'm a generational witch and have worked in the craft for around 10 years, with some experience in conjure. I'd like to disclaim that I am still fairly young - but I feel as though I've gathered a decent well of knowledge. And thus, as I connect with others in this community, I'd like to share it.

1. Know what type of work you're actually doing.

"Witchcraft" is a blanket term often used to describe any type of ritualistic manifestation, however, not all of what you may regard as 'spellwork' is considered to be witchcraft. You see, at their core, any spells, workings, or prayers are examples of folks working with energy to achieve a desired outcome. Many religions that denounce or don't explicitly link themselves to witchcraft manipulate energy in their practices in very similar ways to witches themselves. However, these religions still do not consider what they're doing to BE witchcraft - this could be because of stigma or a variety of different things, but it's usually important to respect this because if you ignore the origins of your work, then you'll miss important cultural context - and the history of any items used or deities called upon DOES affect the results of any ritual significantly. There are also closed practices in which only certain people can work with a type of energy because of heritage, location, age, gender, etc. Participating in closed practices when you are not invited is not only disrespectful, but it can also be extremely dangerous because you can anger the gods of that practice and spirits that have been venerated for thousands of years. This can result in horrible misfortune.

So, to summarize, when you're conducting rituals created by other people or working with gods or spirits venerated by others, it is extremely important to learn the history (mythos, examples of previous use, etc) and cultural background of what it is that you're doing. It may take longer, but your results will be better and you also won't accidentally put yourself in harm's way. This doesn't so much apply to extremely simple things like lighting a white candle to honor a recently passed relative, because it's common knowledge that thousands of cultures around the world have done that for years. But if when researching rituals and whatnot you find something completely unfamiliar to you, do NOT try and work with it until you've looked into it more.

2. People Lie

There is a small number of people who knowingly practice witchcraft or similar works. There is an even smaller percentage of people who tell the truth about their experiences and are skilled enough to make spells work consistently. It is easy to become a 'real' witch, but we are rare in Western society for a variety of reasons - a big one being that it takes lots of time and research. Many people who claim to be psychics or 'witches' are either scam artists, in psychosis, or are too ignorant to realize the errors in their craft that are preventing their spells from working - and they brag about them anyhow as if they do work. It is important to understand that, while you are learning about witchcraft or consuming content related to it, people are going to lie to you. Many people will exaggerate their anecdotes or just makeup stories altogether, either for recognition or to sell a product. On the other hand, witchcraft is WEIRD. Things that shouldn't be possible become more common, and it opens your eyes to the fact that some things just can't be explained with science. In my personal experience, at the beginning of my craft, my spells would manifest slowly as odd coincidences, but now I can control the timing of my work much better, and - since I am more experienced - the results are more effective and shocking than they were five years ago. So, in conclusion, some things that may sound like lies can actually reveal themselves to be true - and the world is actually that much stranger than you thought, while other things that seem fictitious just are. Thus, it's important to ensure you trust any source you may be getting information from - even from me, your dearest Nicasia.

3. Your results aren't going to be consistent at first.

This kind of piggybacks off of the last piece of advice, but when you're a beginner witch without any enchantments already active for whatever reason, it's unlikely that everything you do is going to work - and that is okay. I remember finding this very discouraging when I first started because I thought that if my spells didn't work, it meant that witchcraft itself wasn't real and everything I was doing was stupid. But spellwork is a very old and complicated practice, so when you're a beginner, it can be easy to make mistakes. Like I've said, as I've become more experienced, my spells are more effective. I'd say they work about 85% of the time now as opposed to my former 20, and the sole reason for this is that I'm more knowledgeable. Practice makes perfect, and even the elders can fail sometimes. Spells can fail for a variety of reasons. It can be because of the moon phase, your poor mental health or lack of subconscious belief, unstable energy, previous blocks, etc. Sometimes you can do everything perfectly and your ancestors or spirit guides just won't let something manifest because it's not meant for you - even to the point of your supplies going missing out of the blue. What's important is that you keep trying.

**If you don't have mental health issues, are currently living a privileged lifestyle, or have never been cursed before - this next part likely doesn't apply to you, but certain people will need to do uncrossing or road-opening work to begin spellwork. People can bind your energy, and thus your ability to do witchcraft, and you can even do this to yourself by overthinking too much. Many witches preach beginners learning protection magick first, and I agree that's usually a good idea, but there are cases where you gotta make sure your gates are open before you can receive iykwim.

4. You Don't Need to Spend Money to Have Effective Spells

As with all 'cool people' things, witchcraft is done best when you get creative. In Hoodoo / Conjure, a closed practice of African American folk magic, there's an emphasis on the fact that slave magick was created by those who literally had nothing and just had to learn to work - in secret - with the energy of what they had on hand. It is 1000% doable to do witchcraft without investing in expensive crystals, oils, and herbs. Don't get me wrong, the more you put into your craft the more you can get out - whether it be effort or money, and sometimes expensive supplies are genuinely just better. But if you have a strong intention and know how to call upon the right spirits, you can literally do witchcraft just by thinking. Don't limit yourself by thinking that since you can't afford to buy the angelica root in a spell posted online, you have no chance of doing it successfully. That's when you research substitutions and build upon that ritual to your needs until you finally have your own spells.

5. People are assholes

People suck. When and if you choose to tell people about your craft, you're going to get mixed reactions. Be very careful about who you tell, because witchcraft is very misunderstood and misunderstanding leads to hate and violence. Some people may even respect your work but inform you they don't believe in it: Which is fine, but this may affect your confidence in witchcraft and spells. Thus, sometimes, it's better to keep things to yourself. I'm a very anxious person, and many of my personal friends don't even know I'm a witch for this exact reason. I've found that my craft works better when I don't tell people about it. When I do workings concerning other people, even if they've specifically asked me to do them, I often won't tell them when exactly I conduct their spell. This is because I don't want them overthinking and second-guessing themselves, therefore closing themselves off to receive any new energy.

Opinions and facts matter, remember that. But above all, have confidence in yourself and your craft - and of course, stay safe.

- Nicasia

[weaselandfriends]

BanG Dream! Ave Mujica (anime)

It's 2008, and Doug Walker is confused.

The famous film critic is doing a ten-year retrospective on Pokémon: The First Movie (1998). While watching the opening scene, in which a group of scientists explore a jungle, he poses a series of questions: "What are those things? Who are you? Where are we? What's that thing? Where am I? Is this Earth? Are we in another dimension? Is this the past? The future? The present? What's going on?! Where does this even take place?! Oh, my God, I'm, like, one minute into this movie, already I'm totally lost!"

To Walker's credit, Pokémon is a notoriously impenetrable narrative, known for its high complexity and thematic depth. As he explains: "For those of you who don't know what [Pokémon]'s about, I can't help you because nobody knew what the hell it was about. [...] Nobody could follow it. The only people who understood it at all were the kids."

A similar confusion descended upon me as, on the recommendation of several people in my orbit who called it the criminally underrated sleeper hit of the season, I watched the first episode of BanG Dream! Ave Mujica. They compared it to Umineko, Madoka Magica. None of them told me the show is a sequel (to 2023's BanG Dream! It's MyGO!!!!!), nor any other crucial bits of context: that plot details and twists have been foreshadowed via ARG; that there are music videos for the songs the show's band plays, themselves containing oblique hints to the narrative; that the band itself is real, not in the vtuber sense where rigged anime girls bob their heads on stream but in the sense that each character is voice acted by the members of a real five-person band called Ave Mujica that plays live shows in goth costumes.

Oh no, I thought. I've stepped into a bear trap!(!!!!)

My initial confusion mostly stemmed from the show expecting the audience to already know all the characters, not simply the five members of the band Ave Mujica but also the five members of the band MyGO!!!!!, who are the main focus of the predecessor series. There are few establishing shots, few immediate character beats that cause one character to stand out from the rest, and the character designs have the traditional sameface of idol anime, so hair and eye color are often the only notable aesthetic differences between them. I watch a lot of anime, and sameface doesn't usually throw me, but here it was a struggle to tell some characters apart (particularly Ave Mujica's two blonde guitarists, Uika and Mutsumi).

Disorientation can cause one to stop thinking at all, though, even to understand things that are perfectly understandable. The irony of Walker's baffled series of questions about the opening scene of the Pokémon movie is how most of them pertain to the setting, when the scene's setting (the real-world nation of Guyana) never appeared before or since in the franchise; even the most dedicated six-year-old had as much ability to answer questions about it as Walker himself. It's not even important, really, in the scope of the plot. It's a jungle somewhere, some distant land. It's in one scene and disappears forever. But Walker, like most parents of 1998, encountered a few details he couldn't understand (the franchise's foreign-sounding name, the endless array of unique monsters) and gave up trying to understand anything at all.

In Walker's defense, the most insidious aspect of confusion is not knowing what you don't know. A Pokémon fan watches that opening scene, well aware of the typical setting of Pokémon, and thus knows that this jungle setting is someplace new, some foreign locale, something they're not supposed to know. Walker cannot, at a glance, discern that. To him, maybe this jungle is the primary location where the action is set. Maybe he really is at a disadvantage for not being aware of it already.

The trick to understanding Ave Mujica is that the five members of MyGO!!!!! do not matter nearly as much as their screentime suggests. There is some connection, as two members of Ave Mujica (Sakiko and Mutsumi) were previously in a band (CRYCHIC) with three members of MyGO!!!!!, and Sakiko's abrupt and unexplained departure from CRYCHIC is the root of the interpersonal drama between Sakiko and Mutsumi. Otherwise, the MyGO!!!!!ites serve as outsiders to the main drama who look in and occasionally comment on it; not knowing anything about them is fine. Once I figured that out around Episode 3 or 4, the show became generally comprehensible.

I think.

It's 2019, and Doug Walker is confused.

Everyone is. A collective confusion as, during the climax of his avant garde musical reassessment of Pink Floyd The Wall (1982), an anthropomorphic mustelid slithers onto his shoulder while singing a Cockney rendition of "The Trial". Across a series of discombobulated fantasy landscapes, Walker has been regaled by this and several other digital creatures designed with an almost obscene attention to detail, lavish fur and fabric textures far beyond the pale of Walker's more workman-like VFX flair. If there was context, it has been lost in the characters' impenetrable accents and vocal layering. All anyone watching can do is ask:

What are those things? Who are you? Where are we? What's that thing? Where am I? Is this Earth? Are we in another dimension? Is this the past? The future? The present? What's going on?! Where does this even take place?!

Nobody can follow it...

Except Doug Walker. This isn't the reason he's confused. If anything, he is oddly, uncharacteristically accepting of the situation. He is a critic best known for animated facial expressions and wild gesticulations, but here he stands perfectly still almost the entire length of the song, even as the CGI creatures pluck his hat off his head or lift him bodily into the air or toss him into a little spike-studded Doug Cage. His face is stone.

No, this is a Walker who exhibits, at last, mastery over the raw facts of narrative. It is not plot, character, or setting that confuse Walker about The Wall. When he criticizes the song "Another Brick in the Wall Pt. 2", he correctly assesses that the song is about the cruelty of the education system. What he's confused about, lacking the cultural context of British grammar schools in the 1950s, is what this means, how to interpret it. He can only do so in the frame of the suburban American education system he remembers, and so ascribes to the song meaning relevant to that context; namely, that school isn't that bad, that teachers can be nice, and that anti-school youth sentiment is meaningless counterculture. It's a misunderstanding, not of fact, but of heart. "Pretentious," Walker calls it, a word he repeats across the video. Pretentiousness is a fixation of Walker's. He loves the word; he uses it often. It's perhaps the perfect word for a workman-like man like Doug Walker, one of the first true outsiders to achieve success in the democratized media landscape of the internet.

"Pretentious" means the author believes their work possesses more meaning and importance than the critic can derive from it.

This confusion of interpretation struck me too as I watched Ave Mujica, even when I understood on a summary level the plot and characters. In the first episode, one of the few characters to distinctively establish herself is Ave Mujica's drummer, Nyamu, who starts a catty argument with the band's keyboardist and founder, Sakiko. The crux of the argument is simple. Part of Ave Mujica's gimmick as an avant garde act that blends live music with acted skit segments is that its five members wear masks on stage, concealing their identities. Nyamu, in Walkeresque fashion, wants to dispense with this "pretension," claiming to be bored of it. Her true goal is mercenary; she believes, as the only band member who is not already established in the entertainment industry, that publicly associating herself with her more famous bandmates will elevate her personal profile.

Sakiko, for whom this project is an artistic venture of deep psychological importance, rejects her proposal. But Nyamu disregards her bandmates' wishes and forcibly unmasks them at the next concert anyway.

I understood the argument. What I didn't understand was how to feel about it, how interpret Nyamu's role in the story. In a vacuum, I could only imagine she was intended as the show's villain. She is vain, petty, a shameless social climber, self-absorbed, a YouTuber, and also the driver of the initial conflict that causes the other bandmates to spiral psychologically out of control. Beyond that, she is commercial. In my preconceived cultural understanding of "fiction about art," the sellout is the villain, and the person with legitimate artistic vision (in this case, Sakiko) is the hero. The rest of the first episode supports this reading: it focuses on Sakiko's perspective and home life in a way that lends her significant pathos, while Nyamu exists solely to cause her grief.

Yet the rest of the show does not support this reading. When a band member has a schizophrenic break a few episodes later, Sakiko is framed as the core cause, due to her demanding auteurism. Nyamu, who sparked the inciting incident, is never blamed, either by the other characters or by the narrative as she slips away, unregenerate, into a minor and isolated subplot. She never abandons or even interrogates her crass commercialism, and despite being the most replaceable member of the band and the least interconnected to the others' social circle (she appears, actually, to be a college-aged adult while everyone else is a high schooler), nobody suggests she be replaced when the band breaks up and reforms. Nobody demands anything of her at all. Nobody even really seems to see her as a problem.

I love it. I love it when shameless little shits don't get any comeuppance at all. I love Nyamu. (Honestly!)

But how am I supposed to interpret her argument, within the framework of Ave Mujica as a story?

The obvious interpretation is that Nyamu is correct, or at least in wake of the show's ambivalence toward her, not wrong. Cynical commercialism has value, is at least an important consideration for artistic decisions. This interpretation makes sense considering it's the artiste Sakiko who winds up shouldering the blame for the band's internal collapse, but at the same time it's a bizarre proclamation to make in a show that is otherwise so concerned with rendering Sakiko empathically, with exploring her psyche and motivations, and with -- ultimately -- selling the audience her artistry. Ave Mujica, as I explained, is a real band. All the goth flair, the arcane skits, the oblique narrative hints, and the doll symbolism that are core to Sakiko the character's artistic vision are also core to the real-life Ave Mujica the band. It's inconceivable to me that the show is actually dismissing its own aesthetic as "pretentious." Why, then, does its own in-universe Nyastalgia Critic go unchallenged, escape unscathed? What does it mean that these criticisms emerge not from unconnected outsiders (even with five members of MyGO!!!!! right there, with their significantly more down-to-earth, more workman-like band) but from one-fifth of Ave Mujica itself?

What, exactly, is Ave Mujica's identity?

It's 2013, and Doug Walker is confused.

Existentially.

The video is titled "The Review Must Go On," with an ominous subtitle in the vein of End of Evangelion: "Demo Reel Finale." Something, indeed, is coming to an end here, and it isn't just Doug Walker's lifelong passion project.

In this postmodern künstlerroman, Doug Walker stares into a mirror, but what he sees is not Doug Walker. It is his past and it will be his future. (Is this the past? The future? The present? What's going on?!) It is the fixed and unchanging edifice of 18 long years and counting, an entity unstuck from time, who, despite changes to format, site, contemporary taste, and the internet itself, remains immutable. It cannot be denied, cannot be destroyed, can only -- briefly -- be bargained with.

And Doug Walker bargains. "Not every week," he says, staring his down his creation. "Once every two weeks." His creation, only somewhat put off, accedes. (Now, in 2025, it's once a week once more.) A single word: "Done," and the deal is made.

"Alright then," Walker says, with a beleaguered sigh. "What's next?"

The cold voice replies: "I think you know what's next."

Walker does know. He returns to his desk, where he had been typing the script to the Demo Reel Finale, and dutifully writes what he has known all along. Donnie DuPre, the main character of Demo Reel, that lifelong passion project, that original creative work, was always him.

The Nostalgia Critic.

It's a final surrender. There will be no more passion projects. No delusions of artistic accomplishment. None, at least, that don't involve this thing that Doug Walker has become, this thing to which he has given the rest of his life.

This moment mirrors the argument between Nyamu and Sakiko. Though Walker claims otherwise in the video, the decision to revive the Nostalgia Critic is clearly commercial; the Nostalgia Critic is popular, Demo Reel is not. Walker has abandoned his artistic vision in favor of what sells. Nyamu has won.

Except it's Sakiko, not Nyamu, who makes the demands that the Nostalgia Critic makes of Doug Walker. "I am not going to let this band be just a passing fad," Sakiko says. "I told you. Give me the rest of your life."

Doug Walker is giving the rest of his life to the Nostalgia Critic. Is trapped by it. As Ave Mujica progresses, its members become similarly ensnared. I claimed previously that Nyamu is never punished by the narrative, never challenged by the other band members or blamed for her actions, nobody ever attempts to get her replaced, but the opposite side of that coin is that she is incapable of getting herself replaced despite her desire to use the band as a stepping stone for a personal career. Though she gains industry connections via a bandmate's actress mother, she is crippled by the memory of one of Ave Mujica's most perplexing images, an image that similarly left me at an utter loss: the guitarist Mutsumi, collapsed in a disassociating stupor, on stage before an audience of thousands.

This moment is the beginning of Mutsumi's character arc, in which she is consumed by her band persona, Mortis, in a literalized split-personality storyline that itself has obvious parallels to Doug Walker's relationship with the Nostalgia Critic in The Review Must Go On. What fascinates me about this moment, though, is the reaction of everyone watching. The moment Mutsumi unexpectedly collapses, Sakiko deftly weaves it into the band's narrative, concocting a story about how the song they were playing lulls the "dolls" (Ave Mujica's band members) into eternal slumber, before abruptly ending the entire concert. The other four members step off the stage, leaving only the collapsed Mutsumi in the spotlight, motionless and silent.

The audience loves it. The band explodes in popularity. It's such a memetic event that the fans become disappointed when it isn't repeated at the next concert; Nyamu suggests that they repeat it, even to the point of showing up to concerts and not playing music at all. "Ignoring the audience's expectations -- what's the point of that?"

Nobody, in or out of the band, reads Mutsumi's collapse as a cry for help.

She can't cry for help. No matter what she does. When the band announces their breakup, she screams hysterically on the stage, even as the other four members are quiet. "Mutsumi was cooking until the end," a social media post later remarks. She has a breakdown on the street, arguing with her split personality in Gollum/Smeagol fashion (complete with camera angles swapping back and forth to indicate her two selves), and though people gather around and film it, the audience's only possible interpretation of the event is that it is a promotional stunt for the band. Even Nyamu, haunted by that image of Mutsumi collapsed in the chair, isn't haunted because of the psychological toll her actions inflicted on her bandmate (and, eventually, primary yuri shipmate), but because she believes Mutsumi was acting, acting so ingeniously that it torments Nyamu she cannot achieve that same level of skill.

Mutsumi is entrapped within the narrative ambiguity of Ave Mujica. Like Doug Walker, everyone watching her is confidently confused, only able to interpret her actions within their own contextual framework.

What is the contextual framework of Ave Mujica, though? It is a Babushka doll of meaning, an anime based on a real band that contains within it contradictory proponents of artistic vision and common-denominator commercialism, that is itself contradictorily artistic -- if my struggle to interpret it is enough to suggest -- and commercial, the way its poetic symbolism about dolls and control is draped on samefaced 3D anime girl models that move stiffly and unconvincingly. But the show is willing to make those 3D models contort their faces into distinctively un-idol-like (distinctively Doug Walker-like) maniacal expressions, to throw them on the ground and scrape open their knees with blood streaming out, to have them hurl each other down the stairs in fits of rage, to pair them in incestuous yuri couplings. The story both gesticulates toward a cynical, darker take on the idol industry like Perfect Blue or Oshi no Ko, yet is part of an established idol franchise selling these characters as actual idols. Even in the narrative, the depiction of the idol industry is confused; the band seems to have no managers, no agents, nobody telling them what to do. They don't even have secretaries; bassist Umiri handles scheduling and itineraries. Men only exist in the world of BanG Dream! as fathers or grandfathers; every behind-the-scenes staffer at the concerts, in fact every concertgoer, is female.

Nyamu is not Akane Yonezawa, Ave Mujica's real life drummer. But both are industry outsiders in their first real role, compared to their four bandmates who are already established. Rich girl keyboardist Sakiko is not Kanon Takao, but Kanon Takao was winning international piano tournaments in Milan at age 10. Where is the line between fiction and reality? How real is this anime, and how fake is this band? How much is the Nostalgia Critic a character, and how much is he Doug Walker with a hat?

And isn't it within this endless array of ambiguity, of questions, of confusion, that Ave Mujica ensnares? "Give me the rest of your life," Sakiko says, but with these ARGs and multimedia comb-over-it-with-a-magnifying-glass details and crossovers with other bands, whose life is she demanding? To the incurious, the Doug Walkers, confusion is enough to dismiss out of hand. But for those who want to know more, there are an endless amount of dolls to open...

Perhaps Walker was right, all those years ago in 2008, to not gaze too deeply into the world of Pokémon. It is a franchise, after all, that has exploited the human instinct toward curiosity to become the highest-selling media property of all time.

("Ignoring the audience's expectations -- what's the point of that?" Nyamu says.)

It's 2021, and Dan Olson is confused.

He is a critic criticizing a critic. In this case, he is criticizing Doug Walker's review of The Wall. Unbelievably, this criticism has over 2 million more views than Doug Walker's The Wall video does. Over twice as many people have seen this criticism than the thing being criticized.

Olson asks:

"What is this? Why does this exist?"

He doesn't know why Doug Walker would do this. Why would he put such elaborate effort into a musical review of The Wall, something Walker barely seems to understand or care about at all, something he only seems to have watched for the first time in preparation for creating the review. Walker's lack of curiosity baffles Olson, particularly because it is balanced against the effort on display in the review itself. How can someone spend months on costumes, visuals, parody lyrics, and celebrity guests, all to call something pretentious?

What Olson doesn't realize is that there is a Doug Walker, wannabe filmmaker, involved in this production, a Doug Walker with -- for better or for worse -- an artistic vision, who is willing to go to great lengths to apply that vision.

But someone else is running the show. Someone to whom Doug Walker has given the rest of his life. He's called the Nostalgia Critic, but, as in Ave Mujica, this avatar of commercial greed is only an abstraction, isn't it? A figment of ambiguity in which all cries for help, no matter how loudly they are screamed, can be extinguished. There's someone else, unseen and unacknowledged, with real control over these dolls, the one who forces them to perform as perfect time capsules, ageless and eternal. I'm not sure what they're called for Ave Mujica, but for Doug Walker, their name can be found with a bit of searching: Mike Michaud.

"Let me show you," says that anthropomorphic mustelid, Lucy Lacemaker, as the first notes of The Trial begin. "Let me show you what happens when your dreams no longer need you."