#my theme has become stale

[theotterpenguin]

the performative accusation that shipping zutara (and occasionally this criticism is levied at jinko/zukka) is colonialist apologism has been addressed in some excellent posts, explaining the inaccuracies and problematic implications of this logic far better than i ever could - like this post and this one and this one and this one and this one.

and i know this topic has been talked about to death, but if you could indulge my contribution for a moment, i just find it interesting how this sentiment results from the cognitive dissonance of atla fans being unable to reconcile with the idea of their favorite show's political beliefs not lining up with their own.

atla is a largely philosophical children's show that at its core deals with themes of love, redemption, and destiny vs. free-will. atla examines these themes through an anti-colonalist, anti-imperalist lens that deconstructs the idea of racial divisiveness and the idea that people of different ethnicities are inherently different. this is message is pretty explicitly stated by guru pathik:

Guru Pathik: "The greatest illusion of this world is the illusion of separation. Things you think are separate and different are actually one and the same." Aang: "Like the four nations?" Guru Pathik: "Yes. We are all one people. But we live as if divided."

and also by uncle iroh:

"It is important to draw wisdom from many different places. If you take it from only one place, it becomes rigid and stale. Understanding others, the other elements and the other nations will help you become whole."

this theme is developed across three full seasons, with the crux of this message culminating in zuko's friendships with the gaang - despite coming from different nationalities and different backgrounds, they have all had their own experiences being hurt by the fire nation and work together to take down the oppressive fire nation government. the question of destiny vs. free will is also explored through zuko's character - despite starting off as an antagonist, he develops into a symbolic representation of how the fire nation's oppression hurts its own citizens. he unlearns the fire nation's imperialist propaganda while simultaneously unlearning his father's abuse. rather than following misguided beliefs of what he thought his destiny was as the heir to the throne, instead he forges his own path.

thus, to claim that zuko can never form a deep and meaningful relationship with any of the gaang because of his nationality goes unequivocally against the themes of the show. and a major part of this is because these are fictional characters being used to analyze different theoretical questions within the show and in some cases, are used as symbolic representations of different philosophical ideas - their friendships and their character arcs serve a purpose within the text that cannot be easily transcribed onto real-life dynamics between people.

it's illogical to criticize fans who are choosing to understand atla at the level of the themes that are presented by the text - who are interested in exploring similar philosophical questions brought up by the show through the context of relationships.

if you don't like the themes of forgiveness and redemption that atla explores, your criticism should be aimed at the writing of the show itself rather than other fans. because you are giving far more thought to the "implications" of a close friendship or romantic relationship between someone from an imperalist nation and someone from an oppressed nation than the writers ever did. (and if you fall in this camp of people, i would hope you wouldn't be reblogging fanart of zuko and the gaang together while simultaneously claiming zuko could can never escape the sins of his ancestors and can never form a deep relationship based on trust and intimacy with katara or sokka or jin - because that would just be hypocritical).

and as a side note, people seem to apply this flawed logic to zutara far more than other ships solely because the show spends the most time exploring the complicated nature of fire nation imperalism in the interactions between zuko and katara in the latter half of b3. this is because they've been juxtapositioned against each other and paralleled with aang since the beginning of the show in ways that toph, sokka, and suki are not, who have mostly been used to examine different themes. there simply isn't enough time to explore these complicated themes with all the other characters, even if they theoretically exist in zuko’s dynamics with these characters, so the writers focus the most on zuko's relationships with katara and aang, and these relationships are given far more narrative weight, so have more content to criticize. but zuko and katara also canonically become friends by the end of the show. if you want to discount the existence of their friendship, claiming that it will always be tainted by the fire nation's oppression regardless of what is shown in the text, then you also have to discount zuko's friendships with aang, suki, toph, and sokka - because even if this isn't shown as a permanent barrier to their friendships in the show, it’s also not shown as a permanent barrier to his friendship with katara. if your logic is solely based on the idea that a person's identity in a relationship as a colonizer or a victim is fixed and unchanging regardless of character development, this would apply to zuko's friendships with everyone else as well.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Steve is pretty good at dealing with pain. Burns, scrapes, bites, bruises, he will just grit his teeth and get through it. It's almost like the more it hurts, the less he has to think about everything. But when he starts losing his hearing, there's no pain, nothing to shield him from his thoughts.

He's terrified. He already feels isolated, singled out in their small group, and of course he's concerned about not being able to respond, to live his life as he knew it, but what eventually breaks him is the smallest thing, the most insignificant, mundane thing.

He and Robin are sorting books in the Family Video and they have this unspoken ritual - whenever there is a theme song in the movie they're watching, Robin will hum it for the rest of the day, with exaggerated movements, directing the orchestra and everything. And Steve watches her one day and realizes - he will lose this. He will never hear Robin's voice again, her slightly husky and over the top renditions of whatever unlucky movie happens to play. He can't help it, his breathing becomes heavy and shaky and before he knows it, Robin is embracing him and he's trying to explain how scared he is, how he feels like his life is basically over, how he'll miss her silliness and they won't be able to talk on the phone when she leaves for college, he can't ever hear her hum anymore...

After an emotional evening and a pizza night with their favorite sitcom - with subtitles! - on, they go to work again, but Robin excuses herself for a bit, runs into the nearby store. When she comes back, she has a large sketchbook in her hand and a black marker. She starts scribbling along to the very faded melody that Steve is registering from the TV and when she hands her final work to him, he laughs and maybe cries a little. Maybe more than little.

What Robin drew for him looks like a mountain range. She created an axis for time and an axis for the "MUSICAL DRRRRAMA", indicating how intense the music is in each moment. And all of the intensity is annotated, not a single soud described, but rather how Steve and Robin still see their world, in all its silliness. "This part is mega sharp, reminds me of wanting to stab Tommy Hagan with a knitting needle", it says next to one peak. "Remember that really soggy and stale cookie we ate at your place because we were hungry? That's what it feels like" and "it's sooooo looooong and boooooring it's like Mrs. Click's class" and "the violin here is crispy. SPICY. Like the Chinese food we had last Thursday, it kind of never wants to stop burning".

It's then that Steve knows that he will be okay. There won't be phone calls, but there will be letters, so many letters with silly descriptions and drawings, nagging to practice his ASL and visits to check if he really did his homework. Robin will be better than him at it, of course she will, but even when they'll both be able to sign fluently, she will still hand him a new melody scribble now and then.

On Steve's first birthday without sound, she gives him a huge binder labelled "For my only schmuck: Steve's album". In it are tens of scribbles, all of the melodies they hummed together in the Family Video with fresh descriptions and inside jokes. And when she stands in front of all their friends, hands raised up like a conductor and under her guidance, the whole group signs "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, STEVE", he realizes that sounds might have been overrated, because there were no words to describe this kind of love.

[chronicler-of-narrative]

So, On-Lyne, huh?

Let's be honest here, they're actually an incredibly cool system. If there's one thing I like about DE is how they spice up stale systems. Like how Poe and Fortuna paved the way for Deimos and Duviri, the technocyte Coda seem to be doing the same for the lich system (especially considering how they dont seem to have any weapons).

While lightly disappointing because they have set identities unlike the very oc-friendly randomness of liches and sisters, its still basically the most hype part of the 1999 update for me.

However, praise aside, I also wanted to do some light speculatuon on their story and personalities, and specifically, why I think they weren't always infested.

Now, look, ik they look weird conceptually, being likened to fortnite skins by some, but I think that is mostly just foreshadowing. To me, they look like digital avatars, which considering their name is quite literally On-Lyne and all of the internet imagery in the 1999 promotional videos and ads seems to support this. Now, this is actually really important because if they are digital avatars of real people (as I suspect), then that sets up the main theme of their story: Appearances.

This is why I think they're not some infested psyop but rather started out normally, before being overtaken. Because at the end of the day, Warframe's stories are deep in the most batshit way possible. DE aren't afraid to use the mighty Allegory for their stories, and I think this is what they're doing here. The infestation is On-Lyne's Monkey Paw, being either a wish-come-true or a punishment, or both.

This, imo, is most evident with Zeke. After all, we literally hear him talking about how "if management gives him one more passive aggressive comment, he's gonna snap", which to me tells me that Zeke probably isn't able to endure the price of being famous. This, combined with a transcription of the infested writing on their fanpage I received from a friend, tells us what the Infestation has done for Zeke. "Zeke hungers to unmake himself" and calling him "Fleshskin" to me sound like Zeke seeking to become acceptable to the band at the cost of himself. As in, to literally martyr himself, to become the band's skin and remove the part of himseld that can't stand the pressure, becoming in the proccess an empty shell, a skin-suit, if you will.

For the others, we know a little less, so imma just summarize my theories on them :

-Hardrive's the one who spreads the infestation, the infection mechanism. But by the...unflattering language the hivemind uses to describe him unlike the others, what i get is hes trying to escape the infestation, escape the life of fame, but in doing so is only falling deeper into the very thing he's trying to get away from.

-Packet's the tactician of the group. Different from Drillbit in the fact that hes directly responsible for unity within the group. I mean, "Soothes the dissident voices" doesnt get more explicit than that. Its weird how hes the most "fresh". To me it sounds like he may have had a hand in unleashing the infestation on the group in some attempt to keep them from having a falling out, and is now in charge of keeping the whole hivemind together after being the last one to be consumed.

-Drillbit is the guide of the group. Especially with the brain and larynx lines, sounds to me like he was the second-in-command to Zeke who always wanted to be the face of the band but couldn't with Zeke in the way.

-Dj RoM is a little hard to figure out, but to me he sounds like the group hedonist. He doesn't question whats going on, hes just there to have a good time and might even be the most accepting of the infestation. Especially considering how it directly mentions how his 'palpatations reverberate' while the band is 'digesting' which may imply hes actually enjoying it.

So yea, these basically it. If im wrong, feel more than free to share your ideas. After all, this is just speculation, but to me it seems very fitting from a narrative perspective.

[blueparadis]

꒰ WHEN WE COLLIDED ꒱ ⋮ RAN HITANI.

───❪ SYNOPSIS ❫ ⋮ A decision always changes the course of one's life but mainly it affects just one person, the one who takes the decision. However, an accident doesn't, it affects more than one person. Ran seems to believe he can have both in his favor if he plays his cards at the right time.

───❪ TAGS ❫ ⋮ MDNI, 18+ & M RATING.

(sub!)ran haitani x (switch!)fem!reader, one sided pinning, manipulation, death via accident ( MCD ), fruity!ran agenda, yandere themes, mention of implied cheating, domestic violence ( not by ran ), bad marriage,slow burn, eventual smut.

───❪ PLAYLIST ❫ ⋮ stay by stephan, too close by sir chloe, million dollar man by lana del rey, i am the dog by sir chloe, me and my husband by mitski, movement by hozier, don't you know by james young, do i wanna know by arctic monkeys, sex with a ghost by teddy hyde, stuck on a puzzle alex turner, cherry waves by deftones, the witch by Rosenfeld & khemis.

part one.

summary: The monotony in the life of Ran Haitani has a flicker of excitement. It turns up for a second and then goes out. But, for a hungry animal to denounce the prey, even if it is a slice is nothing but a mockery of the ways of nature. word count —2,5k.

part two.

summary: Ran starts to gather pieces of his puzzle even barely has any piece of it, he could see a glimpse of the final picture. He has never been taught not to play with his food when he was a child and he never did unless the food feels stale and tasteless on his tongue. word count — 2,6k.

part three.

summary: Ran's heart starts to unwind, starts to overlook all the possibilities of obstacles he might face to have you. With his heart in a bind, he starts to seek ways to connect, ways to have you, see you, taste you, feel you. word count — 1,6k.

part four.

summary: There is a jinx that Ran heard when he was eight years old, from his nanny. "You lose the people with whom you share your handkerchief." Now, he is not much of a superstitious person but when he saw his favorite handkerchief in the fist of his father who was intimately clung by his mother in the newspaper picture, he started to believe; he started to experiment word count —1,1k.

part five.

summary: It has been almost half of another month since his last encounter with you. Ran has thought of his second encounter with you way too many times that it lies heavy on his eyelids, on his fingertips, creating goosebumps on his skin. It tingles his soul. He replays that particular memory in a loop until he gets drunk on it, until he gets what he is promised. word count —0.7k.

part six.

summary ~ to be updated soon.

───❪ NOTES❫ ⋮ read on ao3.

blog navigation.

dividers by @benkeibear. banner art by me. for better quality you need to view the image seperately.

This is for my beloved dawnie. @lalunanymph . ( kindly check her rules if you wish to read her works. )

Dawn baby, I have read your works when I'm happy, when I'm sad, when I'm angry, and whenever I missed you. I have kept coming back to read your works, again and again, especially during my exam season. And one day I reaslized that you and your writing has become an integral part of my Tumblr. Not only that, it has also shaped my writing and reading experience. Needless to say dawnie baby that I admire you a lot. So, this is a little gift from me to you for creating such a brilliantly bright trajectory in my writing journey. Tokyo Revengers has always been my staple fandom. Even being a multifandom blog it is the tokyo revengers’ masterlists which is most stacked. At first I thought I should write on Kakucho for you but didn't feel confident about it so I went with Ran Haitani. This is probably the third long fic on him and second series work. I don't generally write on my favs because I don't know what to write and how to write. It is always a struggle but I hope this scratches the right parts of your brain. Take your time, read it in a one fine afternoon all of a sudden or somewhere in next million years. I'm not in rush :’))

Love you,

paradis.

[oleander-nin]

Horrortober Day 10- Collar(Yandere Mud Dogs x Reader)

A/N, not important: Watch this be the longest thing I post. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Kidnapping, dehumanization, collar, blood, picking at the skin, forced name change(?), mention of being sold, gag, restraints, yandere themes, dark themes

Words: 4342

Summary: Mickey ran his mouth and now the Mud Dogs have to deal with Big Mama knowing about you.

The ropes around your arms burn, making it uncomfortable for you to sleep. The position you were forced in was awful, your arms tied together in front of you from your elbows to your wrists, and your legs strung from your knees down. The gag in your mouth hurts your jaw, your tongue stale and dry from having the rubber holding your mouth open for so long. Your eyes lazily scan the ceiling, not bothering to struggle.

The skin on your arms was already rubbed completely raw, no need to add to your own pain and suffering. You do your best to roll your shoulders, twisting your waist until your back cracks with a loud, satisfying pop. How long has it been since they left? One hour? Three? You shake your head, unable to fully tell. Your dazed mind had lulled you into a fitful sleep moments after they left you alone, the safest you’d felt since they first took you.

They cited a meeting for their reason to leave you unattended, apologizing despite how clearly ecstatic you were at the notion. You hadn’t realized it would come with the price of chaffed arms and sore joints. Maybe that was what they were apologizing for, you muse to yourself despite knowing they wouldn’t care about such a thing. Your arms especially hurt, the perpetual hold of the rope feeling as if your arms would pop clean out of your sockets if you move.

You hear the lock of their base click, the sound echoing through the silent warehouse. Their voices quickly take over the silence however, Leonard clearly scolding Mickey over something that had gone down. It’s clear they’re trying to be quiet, their voices slightly hushed while Leonard drones on and on, Mickey snapping back every so often. The only one you didn’t hear much was Danny, but you knew he was there. He always is.

You shift your body to the best of your ability as their hushed voices grow near, your ears perking at the sounds. They never tell you anything, so eavesdropping became the only way you could get information from them. It had only taken you three times of being caught before you figured out how to do it the most inconspicuously. You close your eyes and calm your breathing, letting your heart settle so it wasn’t hammering in your ears. Their voices become more clear as they walk closer. Mickey was never truly able to keep his voice down for long.

“It’s not my fault. She asked and I answered.” Mickey growls, the clatter of the trio in the kitchen sounding through. A low murmur of Leonard's voice comes through, his voice too muffled to understand.

It’s quiet for a second, their voices depleting and being taken over by the clinking of plates and dishes. You wait for the voices to pick up again, your heart rate spiking slightly. You wanted to know what wasn’t Mickey’s fault. You wanted to know how she was, and what she asked. You wanted to know. You needed to know. You were tired of being in the dark, of not knowing what was going on until you were thrust into the thick of it.

“Leonard’s right, Mickey. There was no reason to tell her about Pumpkin.”

Danny’s voice sounds above the ambient sounds of the kitchen, the words clarifying only slightly. Mickey told someone about you, someone Leonard doesn’t want to know. Which… doesn't narrow it down much. You grumble under your breath, annoyed. You wished you knew what was happening.

They continue to talk in low voices, too quiet for you to pick up properly. Anything you could was mostly just Mickey whining about it not being his fault. You shift in the bed, sighing. Maybe they will tell you this time. You just have to ask nicely.

The door opens and your three captors walk in, a small tray of food being balanced in Leonard’s hands. Danny walks closer, pulling you into a sitting position and moving your hands down. You hiss slightly, your shoulders protesting the movement. Having them tied for so long was starting to take a larger toll on your joints. Even if they untied them, moving them would hurt for a while.

“We got you food. I’m sorry it’s been so long, but we got busy.” Leonard says softly, keeping his voice low as if he were talking to an infant. You lean away from Danny’s hold, hitting the squishy body of Mickey instead. You grimace, quickly moving back into the middle of the two and trying to stay as far away from each of them as you could in hopes to escape their imprisoning arms.

Leonard sets the tray down on a stool by the bed, reaching over to take the gag off of your mouth. His hands land on your cheeks, his eyes meeting yours for a second, the look in his eyes hinting his hesitancy to remove the insulting item.

“Don’t bite, and don’t yell.” He warns, the threat heavy in his tone. He waits for you to nod before sliding the gag off your face, setting it down on the tray that held the food. He grabs the bowl of oatmeal they had made for you, taking a spoonful and holding it to your lips. He waits patiently for you to open your mouth, as if he has all the time in the world. Mickey nudges your arm, grinning slyly at you.

“You should really eat, Pumpkin.” He says, moving his chin to rest on your shoulder. You try to shift away but he wraps his arms around your middle, his eyes flashing with a dangerous edge. You awkwardly settle down, letting him lean on you as he was.

“My name’s not Pumpkin.” You grumble under your breath, despising the literal pet name with your entire being. They decided to rename you when taking you in, trying to assimilate you into their world more. You thought it was a stupid name, one more fitting of a dog than a human. Although, you doubted they saw you as such. The way they treated you, the way you acted. You were more a child, or even a glorified pet to them. You never knew you would’ve missed free will so much.

Danny tsks at your renouncing of the name, his face curling into a sneer. He was the one to pick out ‘Pumpkin’ as your new name, and was always the one who got the most upset when you protested it.

“Just eat your dinner, Pumpkin. We need to go somewhere again soon, so we don’t have time to waste.”

You keep your face schooled into a neutral look, trying to not seem interested in his words. He wouldn’t tell you anything if he thought you might try and use it to your advantage. Whatever that means.

Leonard sticks the spoon in front of your face again, his eyebrows furrowing slightly while he waits for you to bite. He sighs, setting the bowl down but still holding the spoon.

“I don’t want to force you, Pumpkin.” He coos, his voice dangerously smooth. You know what happens next, what happens when Leonard gets impatient while you’re eating. You shudder at the memories of him prying your mouth open and shoving food down your throat until you felt sick. You open your mouth and take a bite. Leonard smiles and nods in approval, grabbing the bowl again and continuing to feed you.

You all sit in silence for a while, Leonard feeding you slowly while Mickey and Danny sit beside you lazily. Almost all of Mickey’s weight was on you, his eyes half lidded while they flickered around the small room. Fit with only a stool and a small twin sized bed, it was never meant to be comfortable. The longest you’ve stayed in here was two days, and that was when you first tried to escape. Even Mickey couldn’t argue against locking you away.

Leonard’s voice pulls you out of memory lane, your mouth full of now lukewarm oatmeal as he waits for you to take the next bite. “We’re taking you out tonight.”

The sudden news surprises you, your eyes meeting his own in confusion. You swallow the food in your mouth, opening it to ask a question, but he shoves the spoon down your throat before you can say a single word.

“I know you’re still getting used to us and all, but Mickey decided to run his mouth and now we’re in a bit of a bind.” Leonard explains, ignoring the way Mickey glares at him for the slight. “You’re going to be meeting someone very important, and you’ll need to be on your best behavior.”

You roll your eyes as you take the last bite, chewing the mush before swallowing. You doubted what Leonard was saying was as important as he made it, but it still peaked your interest. You hadn’t been outside in so long, even being shown off in a sense might be worth the trip.

Danny reaches over to your arms while Leonard kneels in front of you, both yōkai quickly undoing the ties around you. As the ropes loosen and fall off, you stretch your muscles, almost trying in relief as you hear your joints click and pop back into place.

Mickey grimaces at the noise, his face scrunched up in disgust. You don’t bother to grace him with your gaze merely staring straight at Leonard as he picks up the gag once more. You try to lean back when he moves closer, but Danny’s hand firmly presses itself into your back, stopping you from moving too far.

Leonard fixes the gag in your mouth once more, smiling down at you like he wasn’t humiliating you. He stands up and ruffles your hair, nodding to the other two. You clench your teeth down on the rubber stick in your mouth, the cylindrical shape reminding you of a horse's bit. No matter how hard you bit it or pushed on it with your tongue, it wouldn't come off. You reach up your newly freed hands, trying to claw at it in hopes you’d be free. You were tired of the ache in your jaw.

"Stop messing with it." Leonard chides, pulling you off the bed. The other members of the group follow, each standing and making their way towards the door. Danny stops for a moment and stares down at you past his snout, his nose twitching while he looks you up and down.

"Should we change them?" Danny asks, clearly wanting to but not wanting to make it any more obvious. Mickey snorts, pushing past the Rat and moving towards you.

"They look fine, Danny. Big Mama won't care much what they're wearing." He says, wrapping himself around you. Danny rolls his eyes, grumbling as he kicks the ground.

"I care."

"We know you do." Leonard says, clapping him on the shoulder. He shakes his head at his partner in crime, shaking him slightly. "However, we don't have enough time to change them. Big Mama is going to be mad if we’re late again. You can always give them your present now, though."

Danny lights up at the suggestion, rushing out of the room. Leonard turns to you, his eyes narrowing at your hands clawing at your gag. "Behave. Big Mama is important. Sit still and be quiet, and just do everything we say."

Your hands drop to your sides as you huff, Leonard nodding in approval before turning to talk lowly to Mickey. Danny returns a moment later, an object hidden behind his back. You try to take a step back, nervous for what he was about to present you, but he grabs you by the arm and yanks you forward.

“Stay still Pumpkin.” Danny says, glee shining in his tone. You didn’t know what he was doing, but it seemed like something he was looking forward to. You grimace. If it excited him, it was most likely bad for you.

Danny pulls out a small black collar from behind his back, the bell on the front tinkling and rattling as it moves. Your face drops at the sight, unable to fight back from the shock of being collared. He takes no notice of your horrified expression, quickly fitting the collar around your neck. It clips on and a familiar surge of energy rushes through you, whatever spell entwined with the fibers of the collar activating once it was set on your neck. Your hands go up to grasp at the fabric, hoping to be able to pull it off. You stare at the ground in horror, your fingers unable to even pull at the smooth material. There was no indication of where your skin ended and the collar began, only a small bump and the feeling of a smooth material alerting your brain to the alteration. It was as if he had fused it with your skin. The cool metal of the tags and bell felt like they were burning your skin. You wanted it off.

Danny looks down, his finger flicking the bell and making it jingle. Mickey grins moving over to you and flopping his body over your back and leaning over your shoulder. “Do you like it?”

You don’t answer the eel, too mortified to speak. Danny grins, still admiring the accessory he had more or less glued to your neck.

“Sorry it’s not too pretty, but Leonard didn’t want you to have anything too… Flashy. You’ll be wearing this every time you go out at the least, and to our preference at home. Now,” Danny looks back at Leonard, nodding. “Anything else? Or should we leave?”

Leonard nods towards the door and the other two follow, no one paying attention to your face that was drained of color or shaky limbs. The bell rattles with every step, the quiet jingle sounding more like gunshots to your ears. You briefly wonder how they were bringing you, considering you were human and they were criminals. They’d filled your head full of the stories of how the yōkai hated humans, and while you were skeptical of some of the specifics, you really didn’t want to chance it if they were right.

“She’s sending a car, right?” Mickey mutters, his eyes flickering back and forth. Leonard nods, and your question was indirectly answered. You reach the door of the hideout, your hope raising for a small moment. It had been so long since you had been outside, since you had seen anything other than the four walls of their lair. The thought of bolting enters your mind, but only for a moment. Pushing any limits right now would be a bad idea, especially with how tense the three looked.

Leonard wraps his hand around your bicep, keeping you close and tightening his grip every time you try to pull back. He opens the door, keeping you in front of him while Mickey and Danny both stick to your left. A small limo sits in front of the area, a pig yōkai staring at the four of you. Danny nods at him, the pig opening the car doors and allowing you in.

Leonard has you move inside and sits next to you, not letting you go until Mickey and Danny were both seated as well. The eel and rat sat across from you, the seats laid out in rows of two, facing each other. You felt small, like every movement was being scrutinized by the two in front of you. Leonard leans back in the seat, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Mickey’s eyes are locked on you, the nubs he has for hands curled like a fist in his lap.

You shift in your seat, none of the Mud Dogs speaking and letting the silence rest over the car. Mickey looks out the window while Danny stares down at his lap, tapping away on the phone he had out. Your hand finds its way to the new offending piece that was situated on your neck, your nails scratching at the bump that signaled the start of the collar. You hadn’t noticed how deep you were scratching, your mind focused on extracting the offending object from your skin. It wasn’t until you hear Danny curse loudly that you realize there’s a small amount of blood coating your fingertips.

Leonard quickly snatches your wrists, pulling your arms away from your neck and stopping you from worsening the wound. Mickey stares at your neck in slight horror, his fishy lips gaped as he stares at you.

“What are you doing?” Danny hisses, reaching over to you and taking your chin. You hiss in pain when he tilts your face up to look at the wound, his eyes narrowed.

“Why did they…?” Mickey starts to question, his eyes narrowed at the marks on your neck. You try to speak, but the gag muffles you and you feel drool roll down your cheek instead of the words falling from your lips.

“Because Pumpkin’s an idiot.” Danny hisses, taking a handkerchief from the pocket of his flashy suit. You don’t try and make a face at the name this time, leaving it be. You didn’t want to push them any further while they carried that look in their eyes. Leonard stays quiet while Danny wipes the blood from your neck, his eyes dark and grip painfully tight on your wrists. You stop struggling as Mickey also moves forward, the trio crowding around you with concern and anger mixing dangerously in the air. You shift uncomfortably, your jaw aching at the need to speak, or to even shut your mouth.

Danny leans back, the corner of his handkerchief now pink with your blood. He shoves it in his pocket, eyeing your neck. He looks at Leonard and Mickey, sighing deeply. “That’ll have to do until we get home. I don’t have any bandages or disinfectant.”

Mickey nods, staring at your neck in interest. His eyes drop to your fingers, Leonard’s hand still encasing both of your hands. The blood had dried and stained your fingers a soft red, but the blood blended into your skin too much for it to be a noticeable worry.

Leonard yanks you forward as Danny and Mickey return to their seats, everyone’s eyes now on you. Leonard stares at your hands, the pads of his fingers running over your nails. He grumbles in annoyance, turning to Danny.

“Do you still have those gloves?”

Danny nods and pulls out a pair of black cloth gloves, one you usually saw him wearing after they came home from  a heist. Leonard takes the gloves and slips them over your hands without much protest from you. You didn’t want to rock the sinking ship more than you already had. Leonard pulls them as far down as he can so they’re snug on your hands before tightening the pull string at the bottom. He lets go of one hand, but keeps the other, his grip tight on your wrist. You gulp, slumping in your seat as you fight the urge to claw at the collar once more.

The rest of the trip is silent, no one daring to say a word.

You lean your head on the window of the limo as it pulls up to the entrance of the hotel, Leonard ushering you out and towards the door. All three were still tense, but no longer looked like they would bite your head off the moment you spoke. Walking up to the entrance, the doors open as soon as you reach the top step. There were two yōkai standing at the doors, both wearing purple uniforms with brass buttons. You stare at them in fascination for a moment, neither looking down at you as they continue to face forward with their backs straight and heads high. They remind you of royal guards for a queen, more for show than anything.

Leonard tugs you through, Danny walking a half step behind as Mickey grabs your other hand. The moment the eel has you, Leonard let's go, the responsibility of holding you being successfully transferred. The trio lead you into an elevator, another yōkai in the corner to press the buttons for the rider. Danny tells the operator something you didn’t catch, and he presses the corresponding button to wherever you were heading. You subconsciously lift your free hand up to your neck again, playing with the bell hanging from it instead of trying to attack your skin. You can see Leonard eyeing you, but he says nothing to your fiddling.

You stare at the scale of the moving numbers at the top of the elevator, watching them go up in mild disinterest. You could feel the anxiety rolling around in your stomach and flooding your veins, making every small movement of the elevator feel like an earthquake.

The elevator opens and you exit, Mickey dragging you happily to meet whoever or whatever it was that they took you here for. Your eyes move to the desk in the middle of the room, a small woman sitting at it. She stands up as the trio brings you in further, your eyes widening at the sight of her.

She was so… Human. Sure, her skin was a bit of an odd color(too purple to be normal, but maybe it was the lighting), and her teeth seemed just a wee bit too sharp, but other than that? Human. Completely and safely human. Your worries melt away despite the aura of danger drifting from the woman as she walks nearer, her humanness easing every bit of panic you had. She closes the distance and looks at you, adjusting the thin blue glasses on her face with a small smile.

“Oh my, look at this little doll.” The woman says, taking your chin and moving it back and forth as she scans your face. Your eyes are drawn to hers, the cool lilac of her iris’s burning into your mind. Was she wearing colored contacts? Her appearance and clothing showed her to be a woman of high authority, and she seemed to be the boss, or main leader, of your captors. It was an odd choice for someone of her ranking, but not one you could fault. The lilac eyes looked beautiful on her.

The woman leans back, her hand forcing your face to follow. She cups your face with both hands and smiles down at you, her eyes swimming with a false security. “Wherever did you find this one, dears?”

Leonard grins, his chest puffing out as he answers the strange woman. “I found them near one of the entrances to the city a couple months ago. I couldn’t just leave them alone and lost, so I took them home.”

A small smirk is held on her face as she continues to examine you, squishing your cheeks and lifting your lips to check your teeth and gums. You nip at her fingers for the intrusion, narrowing your eyes in warning. It was the first sign of aggression you had shown to the woman thus far. She merely smiles, cooing down at you.

“It truly is a marvelous example of a human. Quite scrumptious, if I do say so myself.” She finally drops your chin, moving over to her desk and toying with a pen on the surface. Her wording confused and worried you, bringing back the earlier unease with full force. She was speaking as if she wasn’t human herself, and it worried you to no end. “How much do you want for them? I do need more humans for the nexus entertainment, and I’m not quite sure you three would take good care of one like this.”

Leonard stiffens and I rub at my chin, the smooth texture of the gloves easing the ache in my jaw. Danny snarls, grabbing me and tugging me back. My eyes widen in surprise at the sudden pull, my hands flailing for a moment as I lose my balance.

“Pumpkin is *not* for sale.” He hisses, both Mickey and Leonard joining him in a tense stance. Danny shoves you behind him, not caring for your indignant cries. You can barely see Big Mama from behind the three, their bodies blocking you from sight almost completely.

Big Mama sighs, her voice clouded in fake dejection. You highly doubted the woman even cared. “Very well. Now, I do hope you bring them along another time then. But I am a very busy woman, and my schedule is oh so scrumdiddly packed. You boys should be on your way.”

The Mud Dogs take the sendoff at face value and tug you back, quickly going through the hotel and back down to the car. You’re shoved into your seat once more, and you’re hit with the regret of not trying to hightail it the moment you stepped outside. The car moves and you watch the window. There was still one more chance.

When the car pulls to a stop in front of the Mud Dog’s base, you tense. You go through the plan in your head, trying to memorize each step and each reaction you may need to take in case something goes wrong. Leonard pulls you out, and in the transition of Mickey and Danny leaving, you knee the ogre yōkai in the stomach. His grip goes lax as he doubles over, a wheezing cough ripped from his lungs.

You yank your arm away from him and dash down the street, your arms pumping wildly as you run. You didn’t notice how mast Mickey was until he caught you, volts of electricity buzzing through your veins and tensing your muscles. You collapse into the eels arms, your eyes heavy and body spasming. With your brain so fried, It wasn’t until you saw the others' eyes that you knew just how badly you messed up.

They drag you into the hideout, not one of them caring about your muffled screams.

[spinjitsuburst]

ninjago fic recommendations because i have so many Thoughts about them

gonna share some of my favorite ninjago fics bc they're so so so good and i want people to talk about them with me

Land of the Living by @captainbrookeworm - An evil scientist bent on using Lloyd's powers to resurrect his enemies chooses a poor one to start with - with Morro back alive he has to help Lloyd escape the facility, find a way to stop the bad guy, and keep the rest of the ninja from throttling him as everyone learns to adjust (pretty sure this has a sequel that i still need to read)

when you think you're all alone by @mondothebombo - A fic about a deeper look into what things were like for Jay aboard Misfortune's Keep. Lots of hurt, lots of comfort, lots of Jay needing therapy (TW: this fic contains depictions of torture and discussion of sexual assault so please be careful!) (also i've drawn fanart for this fic huehue)

The Ice Emperor and the Earth Dragon by @mcfanely - In the events of Secrets of the Forbidden Spinjitzu, things are changed when Cole gets zapped to the Neverrealm alongside Zane. With two ninja trapped instead of one, we get a different look at how the Ice Emperor comes to be, and just how far Cole is willing to go to protect his brother (this fic broke my brain ngl)

Current Hunger by @thoriffix - After a mission gone wrong, Jay's behavior begins getting more and more unstable. Dangerous. He's hearing whispers in his head, things that aren't there, and the ninja are noticing. Little do they know the danger is much bigger than anything anyone could've imagined (TW: a lot of psychological and body horror)

Play to Win by @sadisthetic - A Skybound one-shot. After getting captured on Misfortune's Keep, Cole didn't expect to be thrown into combat, much less against Jay. A one-shot about Jay and Cole and the worst round of Scrap N' Tap imaginable (tw: violence duh)

Visionary by @k1ngtok1 - A fic about Lloyd, getting an innermost look at the history of the people he cares about most

Would You Like to Enter Prime Empire? by @finn-m-corvex - A fic where Prime Empire carries out somewhat differently, with the ninja separated from Jay and having to work with him from the outside of Prime Empire

There's a Smell of Stale Fear by @spinchip - A one-shot about Jay tending to Zane in the aftermath of a traumatic event. A lot of reflection on Zane and what he's been through. (TW dark themes)

To rise after the fall by @k1ngtok1 - A series of fics centering around Cole and his realization that he has oni heritage. It's so cute and good and yes please read this series i am Begging you

Would You Like to Enter Stardust? by @aureallegories - Something goes wrong when Jay enters Prime Empire. Becoming a corrupted code in the game, Jay forgets the ninja entirely and becomes one of the hardest bosses in all of Prime Empire (i've drawn fanart for this fic too huehue)

Masking and Unmasking by HelloThere3306 - A one-shot set in the movieverse, all the ninjas identities are a secret until Lloyd's gets revealed to the group by accident. The ninja have to set aside their biases to get their green leader back.

[nerdraging4point0]

Mad Hearts and Temptations // Chapter Two // Wonderland Romance AU

Tropes and Tags: Wonderland romance, instalove, too much sex, destiny, fated lovers.

Content warning: 18+ only minors DNI. dark themes, gore themes, gothic themes, PinV, PinA, oral (f!recieveing, m!recieving), voyeurism, exhibitionism, angst.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

Taglist(click to be added): @poisongirl616 @ladyveronikawrites @shilohrosechicken @th0ughts-pr4yers @meliferafaerie @itsafullmoon @viofcrows @letmeadoreyoux @latenightmusiclover @transparentwitchnightmare @darling-millicent-aubrey @badomensls @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @mysticdoodlez @srorgana1 @in-another-life @broken0mens @somewhere-diamond @celestineveil @littlefoxkota @silentglassbreak @hayleylatour @sundamariis @lma1986 @thatchickwiththecamera @lilhobgobbler @missduffsblog @asilentsiren @catharsis-in-darkness @dsireland86 @skulliecadaver-blog @laurpartyprogram @faceless-mirror @somebodyels3 @jakeygvf21 @badomensls @thisbicc

It’s different this time. 

As I walk down the long, dreary corridor lined with identical doors, I feel a sense of weary familiarity. How many times have I made this journey, desperately seeking the door at the end that always seems to remain out of reach? My footsteps echo off the cold tile floor, the sound bouncing back at me mockingly. Yet something feels different. There's a charge in the stale air, a shift in the energy propelling me forward. 

“You’re late,”  her voice catches me off guard, I turn to see a striking, surreal sight. The pretty girl from the coffee shop stands there, only now with white bunny ears twitching above her cascade of perfect curls. Her ensemble seems plucked from a fairy tale, from the lace gloves to the ruffled corset and tulle skirt. She consults the pocket watch in her hand, it’s chain softly wrapped around her delicate wrist. Sweet caramel eyes meet mine as her lips curve into a smile, pointing down the hallway I've become so familiar with. 

I sense this is no longer the hopeless cycle of before. The static has lifted, rules rewritten. My quest down the corridor feels destined, each step bringing me closer to the door I've always sought. Something has unlocked within the universe's machinations. The end, once perpetually out of reach, now feels attainable. 

Racing down the twisting corridors, my feet barely touching the ground as I move with haste. I round the last corner and there it is, waiting for me. I approach with purpose, my hand outstretched. This is it. As my confident fingers close around the cool metal knob, a bright light suddenly floods out from the keyhole. I freeze, squinting against the harsh glow. A voice emerges, disembodied, yet clear. It calls my name, beckoning me. I stand transfixed, pulse racing, unsure whether to turn the knob or run. The light is warm against my skin, the voice soothing, but caution wars with curiosity.

I squat down, one knee touching the cold tiles beneath me as I brace myself on either side of the keyhole. I line up my eye with the bright light and it dims as I get closer, looking through the gaping hole to see what lies behind it. As the light fades, I can see the silhouette of someone. Whoever they are, they are tall, wearing a long tail coat and trousers with their hands clasped elegantly in front of them and a top hat placed neatly on their head. The voice carrying my name sounds miles away but just the same, clear as a bell - it's a man. 

Ember.

My name has never sounded so haunting and yet so beautiful to my own ears before. I open my mouth to say hello, to call out in response, but before any sound escapes, on the other side of the door, an eye flashes before me, looking back at me from the other side. I jump back in fear as I'm met with the deep realization that it's Alice's blue, deranged orb staring back at me. The icy blue iris bores into me, surrounded by veins spider webbing outwards across the white. Her heavy-lidded gaze feels menacing, hinting at the madness brewing within. I shudder, unnerved by her unblinking stare as a chill runs down my spine.

I wake startled and sweating, the dream leaves goosebumps over my skin as I pant trying desperately to catch my breath. Heart pounding, I scan my familiar bedroom but can’t shake the lingering sense of danger. My eyes dart to the front door and I am gripped by fear when I see it is unlocked. Propelled by raw panic, I leap from bed scrambling to the door on shaky legs. I turn the lock and slide the chain into place, reinforcing the barrier between me and my imagined pursuer. Only after double-bolting the door do I begin to calm down, the cool wood against my back restoring my senses. 

I try desperately to slow my heart, to calm my heavy breathing by holding my breath, letting it out in slow exhales. My eyes search the dark wildly to make sure I am alone, scanning every corner available without moving from my spot. I swear I can see someone in the shadows resting in the corner of the apartment; tall, dark, and ominous, top hat and all.

 "Help me, Ember. Set me free." The voice is wistful and melodic and I'm drawn to it. The way each word is articulated slowly, the deep tenor of it. Rationality has me bringing my knees to my chest, holding them tight as I keep my eyes on the shadow. Outside, a car passes by and it casts light through my window, horizontal lines dancing across the clean walls of my studio apartment. With them sweeping away, whatever shadow I think I see in the corner is gone, leaving me reassured that I am alone.

 Yet a lingering unease remains as I stand up crossing the room, curling up on my bed, heart still racing as I struggle to slow my breathing. The voice seemed so real, almost seductive in its plea for help, and I can't shake the image of that tall, shadowy figure in the corner, top hat and all. 

Was it just my imagination playing tricks, or something more sinister? I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing for the morning light to banish the darkness and the strange visions within it. But until then, I cling to my knees, listening intently for any further sounds in the still of the night. The encounter has left me rattled, and I know that sleep will not come easily tonight. 

–

I am only offered a couple of hours more of dreamless sleep before it is interrupted by an early morning call from Tori. 

“Hello?” I answer the phone groggily, not even opening my eyes. 

“I need help!” she whines. I hear shuffling and then something crashes on the other end. 

“What else is new?” I tease giving a tired giggle at my own joke. Tori is sweet but she is a chaotic mess sometimes. 

“Ha, ha. No, I have a shoot next week and have no props for it. I repeat no props!” She wails. Tori and I were hired at the shop around the same time, and you could say we built sort of a workplace friendship. She's been diligently building up her photography side business as of late, and ever since I offered some creative suggestions after perusing her portfolio a while back, she's enlisted me to join her on prop scouting adventures. We've scoured high-end boutiques with ornate mirrors and vintage furniture, dingy thrift stores bursting with kitschy knick-knacks and retro dishware, even dusty antique shops filled with weathered books, faded maps, and tarnished silverware. 

“So, will you please go with me?” When she asks again I realize that I have drifted off in the middle of her conversation. I sigh, rubbing my face with my hand, turning over in bed. I look into the corner where the shadow loomed last night, empty and clear. 

“Pay me in coffee and you’ve got a deal.” 

–

Entering the store, we seemed to be the only two people other than the cashier and the customer he was occupied with at the cash register. Despite being busy, he glanced up and offered a polite, welcoming smile as the bell on the door announced our arrival. Since it was just an antique shop I didn't think I had to overly dress for the occasion, black leggings and tank top and with oversized white cardigan paired with a simple pair of stylish cream boots seemed fitting. Overall, my outfit achieved the ideal balance of comfort, flexibility, and presentability for an afternoon spent digging for hidden gems in the cluttered aisles.

The place is a chaotic jumble of items from various eras, crammed together on shelves and stacked in teetering piles that threaten to topple over. Mismatched antique furniture, including ornate Victorian chairs with worn velvet upholstery and chipped mahogany tables, are shoved into every available corner. 

The wooden floorboards creak under the weight of the haphazardly arranged clutter. Navigating the narrow aisles requires contorting your body to avoid bumping into precariously placed porcelain vases and stained-glass lamps. Some items are caked under layers of dust, evidence that they've sat undisturbed for ages. Others appear practically new, though still decades-old – vintage comic books with crisp pages, classic toys in their original packaging, kitschy 1950s kitchenware in pristine condition.

“It’s gonna be dark, I need as many gothic things as we can find.” Tori says her voice trailing off as she starts to pick through the shops inventory. Her pretty brown waves gathered into a loose ponytail, white tank and highwaisted jeans accent every curve she had, her red plaid jacket tied around her waist. I nod along, half-listening as I note the diverse array of products. 

My eye catches a purple love seat in the back with buttons all along the back. It looked like it belonged in a vampire's cottage. It was perfect for her. 

"Why don't you start with the chair in the back, it looks like it would fit what you're looking for." Tori's eyes immediately pop up finding the chair and her feet carry her toward it. I laugh a little as I follow behind her. The loveseat truly did look like it belonged in a Gothic vampire's lair, with its deep purple crushed velvet upholstery and ornately carved wood frame. The buttons marching down the back were large and shiny, looking almost like black pearls. It had curved wooden arms and clawed feet, adding to the overall sinister Victorian aesthetic. As Tori rushed over and sunk into the cushions, I could imagine her hosting a vampire tea party on that loveseat.

I pause to gaze at the intricate display of antique timepieces, the faded faces and tarnished metals speaking to their age and history. Though motionless now, I can almost see the second hands sweeping around the numbered dials when first purchased long ago. I imagine the gentlemen who once carried these watches, checking the time with a flip of the enameled case, the steady ticking marking the passing minutes. Now they sit preserved behind glass, the once polished chains artfully draped. Yet as I lean in, the ghostly echoes of multiple ticking movements seem to sound in synchrony.

Tori busies herself examining the dark wooden furniture adorned with intricate carvings and velvet upholstery, I meander through the rest of the store without much purpose. My eyes drift over an assortment of antique items, ranging from ornate lamps to faded paintings in gilded frames. Tucked away in a back corner, angled to reflect the ceiling, sits an elegant mirror atop a gold stand. Unlike much of the shop's inventory, not a speck of dust mars its glimmering surface. As I stride past, a flicker of motion suddenly grabs my attention. I freeze, pulse quickening as I glimpse a blur of long white hair in my peripheral vision.

I set my coffee down and squat in front of the glass reflection. My eyes scan the mirror intently, searching for any imperfection or oddity that could explain the strange flash of light I thought I saw. I lean in, my nose almost touching the cool surface as I examine every inch, looking for a reasonable explanation. But the mirror seems completely normal, its smooth glass surface flawlessly reflecting my puzzled face staring back at me. I stand up and take a few steps to the left and right, carefully observing how the light hits the mirror at different angles. But no matter how I position myself, I can't recreate that brief, bright flash. It couldn't have just been my imagination...could it? 

Perplexed, I lower myself in front of the mirror once more, determined to get to the bottom of this mystery. As I peer deeply into the glass, the surface seems to swirl and blur. I feel an odd sensation like the floor is tipping beneath me. Gripped by a sudden vertigo, I tumble forward as if falling into an abyss. The mirror envelops me in a grey vortex, its cold tendrils wrapping around my helpless form. Icy darkness consumes me as I spiral into the unknown depths beyond the glass.

[armoricaroyalty]

5 Amazing CC Makers

This is a non-exhaustive list of some of my current favorite CC makers! It was hard to winnow it down to just five people, but here are a few standouts whose stuff I've been loving, lately.

@surely-sims: quirky, unique mid-century BB objects

If you're one of the readers of Anne's incredible Plott Legacy, then you're probably a lover of vintage/retro vibes and silly puns. Fortunately, she's brought that exact same energy to all of her incredible build/buy objects. The names and descriptions of all her objects channel the vibes of earlier sims game and add a certain je ne sais quoi to builds.

@warwickroyals: unique, fashion-forward dresses and gowns

Ayanna has an absolutely incredible eye for style. There is so much amazing royal CC out there, but with limited reference pools, it can get a little stale. Ayanna has never had that problem. Her downloads page has an amazing, curated vibe -- she's not just copying random dresses and gowns, she's choosing unique, fashionable pieces from real-world style icons. I really love her CC because it helps me give my sims unique personal style.

@chaotic-simss: family poses with personality

My story has been focused entirely on the lives and struggles of a bunch of unlikable adults, but it won't be long until those unlikable adults start having unlikable children. And I've already started bookmarking some of her amazing family poses to use once those babies arrive. I really love that her poses capture little moments in the life of a growing family and give each member personality, instead of just rigid, formal poses with uniform smiles.

@herecirmsims: high-quality poses for every occasion

My story involves a whole lot of people standing around and talking, and I'm so fortunate to exist in a community with so many incredible posemakers who make those conversations a little less tedious. She makes amazing, unique fantasy-themed poses, but even her simple emotion poses are amazing. Her poses are all lovingly made, with great attention to detail -- no stiff hands or blank expressions here, every single pose has incredible body language and expressive faces. Rapidly become one of my go-to posemakers for storytelling.

@rebouks: everyday poses to liven up your story

Okay, Becca is (deservedly) simblr-famous for her amazing storytelling, but I was first introduced to her work via CC finds blogs while I was searching for story poses. I particularly love her recent infant insanity series, which is a whole bunch of lively, expressive baby and toddler poses to bring life to the smallest sims.

[anonymousredactedconfessions]

i feel like erik pussies out a lot with plot. yeah, with the fred and bright shit, but also with just a bunch of stuff in general. speed through lovely's bloodlust and turning, speed through the quinn arc, speed through milo losing his shifting. linger bro LINGER. explore your themes, plot and its impact. leaping to fluff all the time like a mf i stg.

i think its in part to the community being weird as fuck with him when he attempts angst (fred and bright obv) but im not even asking for that. just develop my guy. there's only so many generic fluff and filler (and porn) vids you can drop before it becomes stale. and the plot can be good. idk, feels like he's pandering to the majority, which is a shame cause i like the plot driven shit a fair bit. but then it vanishes into nothing and has no impact. rip ig.

.

[felixdragonheartofficial]

TFP KINDA SUCKS RANT

Unfiltered opinion below ⬇️(long)

Transformers prime

Listen, you can like what you like, but tfp is not the Pinnacle of transformers media like every salty old fan of it says it is

Repetitive soundtrack

The soundtrack isn't varied, all of the music is comprised of grandiose orchestral pieces that become so goddamn repetitive it leaves you feeling empty. There's never any other emotion present in the music other than

"feel epic now pls"

I shit you not. There are scenes that are "supposed" to be funny, but it's just stale dialogue with absolutely no background music so it doesn't work at all. Any emotion conveyed with music is either epic, sad, or action and nothing else

"Haha, no moments of silly, that would kill the seriousnesz emo vibe U_U"

Terrible setting

Tfp is also much more visually unappealing due to the uncanny af models, the barren and drab backgrounds, and a convenient lack of humans to "disguise" from

not to mention how fuckin weird they look

sims 4 mfs

I'm so sick of animation elitists saying TFP's the better show because it's 3D and 3D is somehow Automatically better because it's "more advanced and sophisticated" which if you ever dipped your fingers into animation at all, you'd know how untrue that is

Feats of storytelling can be attained with either or, and the execution is dependent on the style and narrative that the show presents

TFP was trying to go for a visually darker theme, which is why they went for a realism. The only problem is that the settings are bleak and devoid of any soul

Speaking of which

Robots in disguise... From what???

Outside of team prime, there are literally no humans with speaking roles that have actual story importance

except for Silas

until there are infact- no, non-team humans of significance ever again, either because they couldn't afford the voice actors anymore, or they just chose to never bring them up again.

We don't get to actually see people, we only see the implication of human dwelling and it's lackluster.

There's never any of that conflict or tension that the show promised with the disguise plot, and It pisses me off so much because not only do a bare few of the fights happen around or inside of inhabited areas

but these robots

ARE LOUD

HOW THE HELL HAS NOBODY WALKED OUTSIDE OF THEIR HOUSE TO CHECK

A N Y T H I N G

"Honey, do you hear that loud, metallic ripping and obnoxious plasma fire?"

"Must be the neighbors shagging, Gerald. Don't be such a paranoid freak<3"

"Fair enough Cathleen, let's go back to playing spiderman 2 for the ps5"

"robots In disguise"

respectfully, Hasbro- you can eat out my entire ass with your forked tongue, ye fuckin liars✨

The Nothing Narrative

Tfp legit feels like the circle jerk of patriotism, oh my god.

Sure, it sounds far fetched but let's not forget that this show has agent fowler sucking off the American government every chance he gets

Its so audacious to show the devastation that war brought to cybertron, only to turn around and be like

"So kiddos, wanna join le special forces" at the end of it

How can you be anti war and pro US military?

The US

The leading imperialistic force in the world for the last 200+ years?

That's who you wanna prop up as a stand up figure in your "war is bad" show??

H o w

How Does That W o r k that's so fucking stupid

Wasted potential

considering wasted character opportunities that pissed everyone off, tfp weighs down the heaviest

1.Breakdown could've joined the autobots-killed off because they couldn't afford the va

2.Airachnid could've come back as a larger threat with her hoard of zombie/vampire insecticons -transported to Luna 1 and then never seen from again because they couldn't afford the va

3.cybertronian pirates were supposed to appear but didn't because they didn't use their own production bible

And that shit show sequel

(nice one hasbro, you really rodded yourself up the asshole with a ferocity for the millionth time)

Oh and that one moment that legit pissed me off

When megatron pulled that

"because I now know the true meaning of oppression, and have thus lost my taste for inflicting it"

😐

This prompts the question for me

Why would you even waste the little budget that you had creating this show with a premise that literally lies to the audience??

Its so funny that people meatride this show so hard because of animation elitist bullshit like "3D animation is better than 2D"

And yet, despite the scathing review I just gave I do not gaf if you watch this show and like it, that's literally great for you

But don't ever claim that it does narratives better than TFA/Earthspark dude, omg

[jasmine-green-t]

Art from chapter 11 of Diary of the Deserter: Let the Water Fall! This is going to be the last chapter of this version of the fic. Thank you for riding this rollercoaster with me and I hope you all enjoy!

Now for some boring stuff under the cut:

Hi. In the next few paragraphs, I'm going to discuss my plans to basically rewrite Diary of the Deserter. There are a couple of reasons for this which I will detail, but if you're not interested in that, you can skip this long-winded justification for that choice. If you just want to learn to plan for future chapters, read the last two paragraphs.

This fanfiction is one that I started almost 6 months ago. It was my first fanfiction ever, which sometimes come through in my writing. I started it with no idea of how I would continue it. There were no plans or big ideas I wanted to focus on, and so it made many of the chapters a bit... sub-par? I guess that's the right word.

The first chapter is a good establishing chapter, but it had no vision of what future events would be because I hadn't thought that through yet. Similar things can be said for chapters 2 and 3 as well. Because of that, many of the ideas or themes explored in the chapters become repetitive or stale imo.

Additionally, the work doesn't create interesting character dynamics. I didn't really want to make any of the characters adversarial, so I avoided that, and I had no clear idea on how I wanted to characterise Piandao which made him boring to read about. Overall, the characters were a bit flat.

I'm not saying that the entire work was bad of course, just that I can do better and I want to create a work that is better. I don't think I will be satisfied if I just leave it as is.

I have already made a plan to rewrite these chapters and go beyond what has already been written. On top of that, I will have new, simpler art pieces uploaded to ao3 directly with each chapter release. I'm not sure if I'll announce chapter releases on tumblr because that might get a little bit annoying, but I'll see how I feel when I've published the writing.

When I publish the newer chapters, I will dub the original fic "[First Draft] Diary of the Deserter" to avoid confusion. When the new version catches up with the old one, I might even set the old fic to registered ao3 users only, but again, I'll see how I feel about that when the day comes.

Thank you all for your support and I hope you enjoy what comes next.

[the-golden-queen-82]

I am doing a marathon on MCU to refresh and catch up on the lore.

In chronological order of events.

So here are my thoughts while watching Captain America: The First Avenger:

Bucky fighting that cinema bully reminded me so much of classic Hollywood fights.

I wonder if Steve and Bucky were disappointed that there would be no flying cars in the future.

It's so heartbreaking to see Bucky untouched by war. Untouched by HYDRA.

Seeing tiny Steve is so funny because the head and the voice don't fit the body.

How am I just now realizing Stanley Tucci is Abraham Erskine?

As a kid, Hugo Weaving's Red Skull scared me. Even before the face was revealed, he just has these really sharp features.

Steve becomes Captain America when he learns Bucky is in danger. A Stucky was born today, people!

"I'm invisible!" Never, Darling! Never!

That scene of Steve being sexually harassed by Margaery Tyrell and then later on shot by Peggy because of it was so unnecessary! Just stupid drama for the romance plot! A romance plot that is so stale!

The fact Sebastian's screams as he falls down were used for The Winter Soldier theme is chilling!

Howard Stark continues to look for Steve and, in the process, creates a semi-functional man.

My Rating: 7/10

[queenquinzel715]

Pt 1.2

1. HalfOrc Cai 18+

Warning: Extreme Abuse, Gore, Sexual Theme

Wrd count: 1,211

(Y/n) P.O.V

I would never understand my father, and I know he'd never understand me. I felt that every living breathing thing should have a chance to be their own person, where my father is a hunter of many creatures. He even partakes in The Creature Games, and when my brothers were of age he took them. Mother was the one that tried to teach us that everyone has a heartbeat, and it can break just like ours. I became absolutely sick of my whole household when my father walked in with a servant that was half orc, and would literally push him around. At night I'd bring him some real food, instead of the stale bread my father would give him. We became very close during that time, he'd tell me about his battles throughout life, and I'd tell him about the arguments with my father.

One night after a long hot day of working we fell asleep talking. I woke to my father snatching me off of the ground.

"Who knew my own daughter is a whore, for a creature no less." His grip on my arm becomes bone crushing. "You don't move." He orders Cai, and pulls me out of the room.

"Father please. I'm sorry." I beg as I trip over my feet.

My mother and my brothers come into the hall from the commotion. My mother tries to get him to let me go, but he just throws her off. My brothers don't try to touch him, just follow behind him, trying to get him to listen. He throws me into my room, causing me to fall to my knees as he locks me inside.

"No one is to let that whore out until I'm done with her!" He yells at my family.

I hear his heavy footsteps walk away, and my brothers follow. My mother lightly knocks on the door to let me know she is there. I run to my window as I hear yelling outside. My father is dragging Cai to the tree in the middle of the field, and my brothers are tripping behind him. I fall to my knees losing my will to stand. I couldn't stomach to watch him hurt Cai. The sounds of the whip, Cais scream of agony, and my sobs filled the air for a good hour. I thought he was done, but when I heard his footsteps get closer, and my mother's frantic voice. I knew he wasn't done. He comes into the room, throwing his bloody whip on the floor, and grabbing me by my hair. My mother tries getting between us, but he throws her to the ground.

"I will not have this family letting those creatures think they are nothing, but animals!" He throws me to my bed.

I try to get to the other side, but he already has my ankle in his hand. He ties me, on my stomach, to the bed posts. I can hear my mother beg him, but he just locks the door. All I hear is him moving around, and then the worst burning sharp pain. The scream I released would shatter the devil's heart. He didn't go as long as he did on Cai, but I still was fighting to stay awake. I start to lose my sight when I see my mother run to me apologizing over and over.

I started to wake up feeling the heat of the sun on my face, but I couldn't move. I'm still strapped to the bed, but I am on my side instead. I feel something wet, cold, and stings on my back. I turn my head to see my mother's hair.

"I'm so sorry I can't untie you. Your father has gone completely mad." She comes around my bed to kneel in front of my face. "I have a salve on your back that will help with the pain, but I made you that tea you love." She gives me a soft smile, and helps me drink. "Your brothers are helping Cai. He seems to be healing a lot quicker. Already sitting up." I squeeze my eyes shut as my eyes start to water. "I know honey." She gives my arm a soft pat.

Once night came I was able to actually sit up, my back had the salve linens mother put on. I try not to look out the window, but it's all I can do right now until mother or my brothers wake up. I know my father is still here, because I hear his footsteps stomping around. My stomach falls as my door starts to open, but when Cai's head comes into the moonlight I almost squeal out. My mother comes in behind him, carrying a candle, and an empty bag.

"I'm getting you out of here." He moves the blanket off my body. "Can you move at all?" He looks over my body.

"I can move my legs, but standing is straining." I look over as my mother puts some of my things, and a jar of the salve in the bag.

He helps me stand up, and holds me to his chest as my mother changes my bandages and changes my dress. I hold onto his arms as he steps back. I give him a worried look.

"Cai? What is going on?"

"We are going to Silentdew, and once we meet the King, your mother will come with your brothers." He kisses my forehead as I nod.

"(Y/n)? Please know I am so sorry." My mother comes to us, handing the bag to Cai.

"I love you mother. It isn't your fault he did this." She hugs me the best she could.

"Alright you two get going. You have a bit of a journey."

As we sneak around the halls my heart was steady hammering in my chest. I just know he'd kill us all if he knew we were leaving. I hug Cai's arm to my body, mostly for support, but for something to help my hands from shaking. My mother kisses my cheek before she opens the backdoor. I squeeze her arm as Cai leads me to the waiting carriage. My brothers were there keeping the horses quiet, and hooking everything up.

"Be good to her." My eldest brother, Burgess,told Cai.

"She'll have the world." Cai told him as he helped me into the carriage, shutting the door.

My brothers crowd the door, giving me sympathetic looks.

"We are so sorry we didn't stop him." My brother, Milgard tells me.

"You couldn't have stopped him. He has his own mind." I squeeze each of their hands.

"We have to get going, I'm sorry." Cai is standing behind them.

They all back up to the porch with mother, and as Cai walks to the reins it actually hits me I'm leaving my family. I wave to them as we ride away. I'm not even to the end of our road before I'm bawling my eyes out. It wasn't until Cai opened the door did I realize we had stopped.

Cai doesn't say anything, just steps inside, and pulls me into his side.

[sehtoast]

Mirror, Mirror On the Wall. (Depowered Homelander x OC)

1.1k words | Mild angst. Themes of body image issues. Brief promise of giving him head later bc he deserves it. | Depowered Homelander tries on his suit again for the first time in a long time. | Fic Directory

OC: Benjamin Colyer (The Boys-verse Spider-Man)

He'd left it there a long time ago. Soaked from the rain. Kicked to the corner when Benjamin had offered him some of his own clothes instead. 

They'd separated at that point. And yet, his little spider still took care of him. 

Well… to be fair, he had helped Ben first. Flew him home after finding him in an exhausted sleep in the rain. 

Now it was his once more. Dredged out of the closet in Ben's unoccupied apartment at the tower. It smelled of stale air and neglect. 

His lover stands before him, hands out to offer it. 

His suit.

The only one Vought didn't destroy– save for the one displayed in some monument to his legacy they'd erected after his 'retirement.'

His armor. 

His image. 

Him. 

He takes it with shaking hands, gulping thickly as his fingertips brush against the fabric. Tears sting at his eyes, and he wants to hug it as tight as he possibly can. Hold this long lost piece of himself close until it becomes part of him once more. 

"I remembered it the other day totally out of the blue. Thought you should have it back." Ben says to him. The web-head can tell there's temptation brewing. 

A desire to see if it's still him. He wants to don his image once more. 

As if on queue, they both ask near identical questions, words overlapping each other. 

Can you help me put it on? 

Do you want to put it on? 

It's tricky to wiggle into it this time. His body has changed, and he can tell now more than ever. It was always tight, but even more so now, and in all the wrong ways. A shiver runs through his body as Ben zips him into it. 

He feels like he's becoming whole once again. And yet… 

He knows better. 

But it doesn't stop him from dreaming. Imagining he'd never lost his powers. Picturing a world in which he could still swoop his little spider up and go anywhere their hearts desire. 

He tips his head back, sucking a deep breath before looking down. Everything looks normal again. He is exactly as he should be. 

He is The Homelander once more. He is a god. 

He is god. 

Except the suit is heavy. The false muscle weighs him down in a way he's never known before. The eagle epaulets are uncomfortable weights on either side of him. 

He meanders to the body length mirror hanging on the wall. It is there that the last embers of his dream are snuffed by the man looking back. 

Dark hair, messy and unkempt. Scruffy facial hair. Bags under his sullen eyes. 

The man in the mirror is not The Homelander. 

Not even close. 

Behind him stands Benjamin in his own suit, watching as he takes in the sight of himself. 

He's smiling, and John cannot understand why. 

"God," Ben chuckles. "You still look like the biggest boy scout in that thing." 

He wants to laugh in return– play it off, but all he gives is a curl of his lip. "I look like a fucking joke."

Ben scoffs. 

"That's because you see yourself through your own bad opinions of yourself." 

He wants to scowl and deny it, but he nods. Ben always had a way of knowing.

"Let me tell you what I see…" Benjamin approaches him, slings his arms around his neck from behind. "First and foremost, I see the love of my life." 

Homelander clenches his jaw, but lets his eyes flutter shut. Accepting compliments used to be so natural for him. Of course he was handsome. Of course he was perfect. 

Was. 

Very important word, there.

"I see my favorite face to wake up to, and the last one I wanna see before I fall asleep at night." Ben continues. "I see pretty blue eyes that make me feel like I'm looking out at sea."

He makes eye contact with himself, then. Sees the red rimming his eyes as he fights to hold back the torrent of emotions burning through him. He sees the blue Ben speaks of. 

He'd never thought of them in terms of the ocean, though. 

"Lips I love to kiss." 

Lips he's always chewing into an unsightly, chapped red. 

"Soft hair to play with when you lay your head in my lap." 

Shaggy overgrowth that made him look like a fucking idiot.

"The cutest little laugh lines.”

Signs of his age finally settling in.

"Then there's that hickey I left on you the other night." Ben giggles, nuzzling against his cheek. "Sorry 'bout that." 

He can't stop the little smile that spreads across his face. 

"There it is!" 

Oh, please. 

"A smile that's better than golden sunsets. You know the kind I mean." 

Of course he knew. They liked to watch them together on the front porch sometimes. 

"Okay, okay." He gripes. "I get it. You like me. Doesn't change the fact I'm nothing fuckin' special anymore." 

Ben contemplates his next words for a moment, simply staring at him. 

"Wasn't the suit that made you special, babe. Or your powers." He leans to press a kiss to his cheek before redirecting his gaze back to the mirror. "You made those things special." 

Homelander stares back at Ben through the mirror for a time, eyes big and doe like. 

"And, even when you take it off again, you'll still be special."

He inhales slowly, letting each and every word wash over him like waves kissing the shore. The sandy grit of his self loathing floats out to sea bit by bit. 

"I'm always gonna think the sun shines out of your ass, pumpkin." Ben plants a kiss against his cheek, swaying the both of them from side to side. "Now, whaddya say we get you out of that jigsaw puzzle of a suit and go figure out dinner? We can finish that documentary you picked the other day, too." 

He shakes his head to hide the smile that spreads across his face. 

"And maybe I'll suck you silly while you learn more about big man Washington." 

"Are you ever going to let me brood in peace?" He groans with a roll of his eyes. 

"Nope." Ben begins detaching the cape. "I love you. It's my job to bug you til you're smiling again." 

What bliss, to be loved so dearly.

[notafraidofredyellowandblue]

Jung Wild Grenzenlos (2022) - Paul Landers (with translation)

ARD/MDR documentary from 2022 about the 1990's era with Paul Landers, with an attempt at translation by me 😊.

Paul:

The 90's to me where the good old days in a sense that things evolved that one didn't know before. Musical directions emerged that didn't exist before. Youth movements that didn't exist. All of a sudden there was Grunge. Cool shit! Nirvana I heard on the radio and thought: Man what kind of good music is that! And one thought it would continue like that forever, and now looking back, one knows that is was a beautiful phase really, of change and of innocence and freshness.

There was this euphoria and i remember that it had a some anarchic traits, because the cops in the East could leave us, they weren't responsible for us anymore and the West cops didn't know us and didn't really know how to deal with the East-people and because of that there was a little Fool's freedom. Was a really lovely time.

<at a clip about the band Think about Mutation> 'Think about Mutation' initially were even ahead of us. They already had the principle of sequencer, machines and guitars. They already discovered that before us. At a concert we were pretty impressed by them in a musical way.

West alcohol i thought was really good, all the various variaties opened a whole new dimension.

Voice-over:

Maybe that Paul Landers pretty soon would be on stage with the band Rammstein. Forged from the wild growth of the Post reunification period, they practised at the East Berliner Knaack club and initially only play half full shows. But that changes quickly: German lyric, celebrated teutonics, Stage fire: the media foams of anger.

Paul:

The claim really was that we only do what we like, without looking in any specific direction, just "Lets go, we want to make trouble and we want to be extreme". We didn't care whether anybody liked it, at all.

VO:

Then the flame ignites, soon they fill every stadium all over the world. Six east-guys become the biggest band in the world. With thanks to the 90's.

Paul:

Rammstein is clearly a 90's band, but visually and musically. Ofcourse we think, we move, we mirror the sign of the time, but we are a 90's band, definitely.

VO:

Bobo, alias Christiane Hebold, steers the chorus of Engel

Bobo:

We were friends really. Then the idea was born for me to come in the studio and try out a few things as background. Paul sang the first parts of Engel to me and i thought "Sounds abit like 'Silly'" and he said "'Silly' is cool, sing it like that".

Paul:

The state-supported bands had a similar experience as the 'Ost-schrippen' 1) for the first time they weren't needed.

VO:

In the year 1991 almost a third of East people were unemployed. Especially women and men over 40 could step down.

Paul:

My father was at the Academy of Science, and in the West there already was an Acadamy of Science, so they threw him out right away, whoop!, with one swipe. My mother too, whoop! Both in the party, for them initially it wasn't that great.

VO:

Paul Landers at the time plays with Feeling B, and the band creates a funny little song from the desolate situation. "Ich such' die DDR" (I'm looking for the GDR) becomes a hit in the scene in 1993. Many want to forgive the old regime and crawl back in the warm nest.

Paul:

'Ich such die DDR' was a joke, because somehow it was funny, Whoop! the GDR, the country i was born in, is gone. Daft at first, but also interesting. A country, Whoop! nothing left. And an ambassador really has to pack his bags because his country is gone. He can go home. Somehow we thought it an interesting theme.

VO:

Feeling B didn't find the GDR again, and because of that, are soon history.

Paul:

Feeling B's motive was to mess around a bit, be a bit cheeky, explore the East limits, those were very narrow, so pretty easy to explore, and when those were gone, at first i felt dumb. The main reason for our musical existance was gone somehow. It was all a bit...it felt stale, like an old beer.

In the east i liked the east, and in the west i like the west. Because of this i don't have 'Ostalgie' 2) in a sense like the others may have because maybe they noticed that is was pretty great looking back, and the West wasn't as gold as they thought it was. For that reason i never went to a 'Ostalgie' party.

---

1) 'Ost-schrippen' are a kind of breadroll that was very familiar in GDR bakeries, but were quickly replaced by the treats from western bakeries (there are bakeries now that sell them again)

2) 'Ostalgie' is a wordplay that is often used, made of 'Ost' (the East) and 'Nostalgie' (Nostalgia), it describes a longing for East Germany when things in the West didn't turn out as fabulous as the seemed from East perspective before East and West Germany were reunified in 1989

[ranmaruswife]

Force Live & Pablo Picasso -

A Lyrical Analysis

In honor of Shining Live's 6th Anniversary, I thought I would post a write-up on one of the game's first theme songs, Force Live.

You may not know this but the opening line to the song, “I do not seek. I find.” is a quote famously attributed to Pablo Picasso, one of the most influential artists in history. It can be found in a 1936 article titled ‘A Trend in English Draughtsmanship’ by Graham Sutherland, another famous abstract artist who took great inspiration from the works of Piccaso.

Now this is particularly interesting because Picasso also often spoke on how an artist must “steal” from other artists, lest their work become stale. He was also famously quoted as saying “Success is dangerous. One begins to copy oneself, and to copy oneself is more dangerous than to copy others. It leads to sterility.” Which to me speaks volumes about Quartet Night’s rivalrous relationship with each other. They do not allow themselves to be satisfied as they are. They always seek to achieve greater heights. And to do that they find that which they lack in each other.

Going back to Force Live, there is a phrase in the final chorus that ties into this idea - 一つに束ねよう（一つになろう） 足りないエレメント（重ね合って） translating to Let’s tie each other into one (Let’s become one) Our lacking elements (Overlapping)

Speaking on the subject of elements, I actually find it very interesting the specific elements each of them were assigned in this song. Particularly Reiji. It is easy enough to see why Ranmaru would get lines about fire, while Camus gets lines about ice. And Ai even has the kanji for wind in his name. But Reiji was given light as his element. Whereas one would more typically assume earth. This can also lead us back to Picasso, though!

Not only does Piccaso have another famous quote about how an artist can transform a simple yellow spot into the sun, but he also pioneered the concept of painting with light, where one takes a light source in a darkened space and moves it around to draw a picture while taking a long exposure photograph.

Now there are more lines in Force Live that can bring us back to art and to this innovative artist. The most obvious being 歴史（ヒストリー）のキャンバスに描け or “paint on the canvas of history.” To quote Picasso once again, “I don't believe in accidents. There are only encounters in history. There are no accidents.” And Quartet Night often sing about their fated meeting and the importance of the bond they have built with one another. Despite the times they have fought and quarreled and nearly lost their way, they still always come back to each other. Rising from the ashes only stronger and hungrier for success.

AND ON THAT NOTE- the main lyrical motif in Force Live is them speaking of all their elements as being destructive, but coming together to form something new and better than what they can achieve alone. And to finish out my rant, once again in the words of Picasso,

“Every act of creation is first an act of destruction.”

And now my own little personal thing (yume warning)- As you can see I find Picasso to be very inspirational and as a yume I have always used another one of his quotes to explain my relationship to others.

Picasso said, "Everything you can imagine is real." Which is a statement I take to heart. Ranmaru might not exist in the way you or I do, but even as a fictional character, he is so influential and impactful. He is real in the sense that he has an image, a voice, music, story, and in my opinion, a soul. Many know him and love him. He has changed lives. Including mine. And in that sense, he is very, very real. No matter how much I may have to "imagine" him.

And since I always used this quote to put things into perspective for other people before Force Live came out, it meant a lot to me to have him quote the same artist. To feel that Ranmaru was inspired by Picasso as I have been. It feels really nice to have yet another connection to the love of my life through song ♡