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taintandviolent · 2 months

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Devil's Favours - James March x Reader

summary & wordcount: 4.9K! originally chosen as the party favour for James' Devil's Night celebration, reader is quickly snatched away by James March, who would rather have his own fun with her than let the others kill her.

w a r n i n g s: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT! dark fic, dub-con, slight non-con, conflicted reader, sexual confusion, mild gore & blood, graphic descriptions, violence, aggression, bodily fluids, mentions of other real serial killers, smut, rough sex,overstimulation, body worship (reader with greek goddess body type), murder, reader death.

a/n: sorry for this, I'm mentally unwell. not beta read, so if it's horrid and clunky, I'm sorry!!! also, I think this is the last taglist I'll be doing, RIP. It's just such a pain in the rear end, and half the time, it doesn't even work.

full fic & taglist under cut!↓ / ao3 link here! /

After a long day of travelling, sleep was the only thing on your mind. That said, you were in desperate need of a bath, something relaxing. This was, afterall, a vacation. You twisted the ceramic knob on the hot water, and stuck your hand under it. With a hiss, you withdrew your hand – usually, water took a minute to reach temperature. This one? Scalding hot within a few seconds. Dangerously so. You twisted the knob on the cold side, evening them out until they’d reached a less skin-melting combination, and shed your clothes. You’d only been in there for thirty minutes or so before someone began rapping their knuckles against your door. Persistently. Very persistently.

“Just a minute!” you called from the bathroom, hoping your voice travelled. You reached for one of the towels – meticulously embroidered with the hotel’s logo – and wrapped it hurriedly around your torso. “Hang on!”

Quickly rummaging around in your suitcase and swearing under your breath that you had packed more, you searched for something to wear. Feeling pressured and running out of time, you settled on a cream coloured silk slip. Hardly modest with your plenteous figure, but the knocking continued and that seemed more important than decency. You hurried to the door, yanking it open with an air of annoyance. The vexation melted away when you were met with a man who looked more like he belonged on a silver screen than he did standing in front of you.

“Good evening.” He said, dipping his head down in a courteous display.

“…Can I help you?”

His lips stayed together, but curved into a subtle smirk. Though it was an unintentional pick; he’d chosen well; your delectable form was as if it was carved by Gods themselves. The look in your eyes told him that you were so alive, so vivacious that any bloodshed that would happen would be akin to art. His eyes were immediately lost on you, exploring your body and face with a fervid fascination. Feeling exposed, you pulled at the silken straps, bringing the neckline of the nightgown higher up on your body. Your cleavage protested, the fabric puckering across the voluminosity of your breasts.

All this time, he’d been silent, and you arched an expectant brow, wondering just what it was that you were to help him with. This man was… peculiar. From his fancy dressage to the articulate, over-pronounced way he spoke, his idiosyncrasies both alarmed and fascinated you.

“Indeed,” he affirmed. He’d made his decision; you were the one for the night. And he’d have you, whether you came willingly or not.

“My name is James March — I’m the owner of this impressive hotel in which you now stand.” He paused, expectantly as if that was enough for you to throw your arms up and consent to whatever he was asking. When you didn’t, he added: “I need you to come with me. Urgently.”

You squinted, scanning his motivations. A warm, gentle smile stretched across his lips, framed by his pencil thin mustache. His hand rose, fingers uncurling in front of you. There was something unnervingly come-hither about his gaze. Would he have introduced himself with malicious intentions? Surely not — that could lead to identifying him later on. But he could’ve given you a fake name, perhaps…

Unable to resist his passé seduction and against (likely) better judgement, your hand floated up into his, resting delicately against his palm. His fingers closed around yours, lingering a moment before guiding you out of your room, allowing the heavy door to swing shut behind you. He began leading you briskly down the hallway.

“I forgot my key, wait I –”

“Worry not, my dear. We’ll have another made for you, should you need it.”

Should I need it? You thought. Why wouldn’t I need it? Of course I’ll need my key, I’m walking down the hallway in nothing but a nightgown.

You trodded barefoot down the halls, listening to the sounds as you passed them. The hotel, you noticed, creaked and breathed with a life of its own. Whether the rooms were occupied wasn’t known, but they sounded as if they were.

As soon as you two got to a door, only a few down from your own, he reached for the handle and instantly, as soon as he did; something felt wrong. Something felt… sinister and the feeling took over like a gelatinous sludge. You tried to yank your hand away but James sternly jerked you the opposite way — back towards him. With a throaty growl, he wrapped both arms around your torso, holding you fast in a steel grip so that try as you might, you couldn’t dislodge yourself from his grasp. His strength proved too much for your feeble, sleepy muscles.

After shouldering the door open, James carried you inside. In a moment of panicked clarity, you tried to peek around and identify anything you could. The stern way that his hand was plastered on your forehead, holding it against his shoulder, you could really only see the ornate ceiling above you.

You took a deep breath, fighting back the tears that burned at the corners of your eyes. This was it. You’d gone this far in life without being mugged, raped, or killed… today was the day it would change. Your track record would end. Abruptly. Terrifyingly. Your chest shuddered with an uneven, hysterical breath. At least he was handsome. No, shut up. That’s not the kind of thought you want to be thinking.

Suddenly, your body dropped forward and you were spun around harshly, his grip still tight on the fleshy meat of your arms. Then, as though he was a lover and not your soon-to-be-murderer, he eased your back against a wooden chair with one hand, delicately, suddenly concerned with hurting you, like you were some kind of easily-bruised fruit.

“Good girl, sit there.”

At his praising words, your core twinged, tightening. No, no. Stop it. Clenching your teeth, you quashed the thought before it went any further.

His right hand snatched something from a nearby table before holding it proudly, stretching it out for you to see; rope. Unconsciously, your head began shaking back and forth. As the realisation sunk in, your heart rate picked up, thudding against your ribcage.

“N-no, no… no please.”

With the rope still in hand, James got to one knee in a familiar pose. His lightless eyes floated up to yours, staring into them deeply. Now in front of you, his cock twitched within his trousers, a carnal instinct tugging like an incessant child. He brushed the pads of his fingers along the smooth curves of your knees, your calves, your ankles…

Damn. You – obviously – were a woman with needs, so his feather-light touch awoke something deep within your core again. This time though, it didn’t take you reversing the arousal. The shiny tip of his shoe knocked your feet apart, lining them up with the legs of the chair. She clenched harder.

“What are you doing?” You asked, tensely. “What the fuck are you doing?”

He paused to answer, straightening up. “Securing you, my dear. A struggle is inevitable.”

“What!? Inevitable for what?!”

He didn’t answer. Hastily working, his large but nimble hands wrapped the rope around the smallest part of your ankles, knotting the rope against the chair. Your wrists came next, and those were tied much tighter; the fibres of the rope ground against your soft skin, already causing a burning friction.

With a sudden, powerful pull at the bindings, testing their security, James was finished. He was confident in his knotting, you wouldn’t get away. Humming to himself, he dragged the chair through an archway, into another, much larger room. You were facing a table – it was ornately set with a large contraption in the middle. You recognised it as an absinthe fountain, the bright green liquid in the container seemed to glow. You didn’t want to be a part of whatever this was, even as attractive as that man was.

“Please,” you begged. “Please, I just… I want to go back to my room. Let me go.”

“Let you go?” James echoed in a mockingly high tone. He seemed offended that you’d even desire such a thing. It was a pleasure — a privilege — to be invited to his dinners. “No…. You’re staying with me. Right here.”

He pat your thigh before moving to the head of the table. For the first time since you’d been brought in, you took a moment to look around, to take in your surroundings instead of him. Immediately, you whimpered in disbelief — met with such a visual that you almost immediately thought you were hallucinating. You blinked away the tears and sniffed, pressing your lips tightly together.

It was truly bone-chilling to see all of the worst eyes on you. The eyes that had seen the most foul crimes and atrocities in human history were now looking at you; the bound beauty with her sweat-soaked strands of hair stuck to your forehead and fear in your eyes. John Wayne Gacy, Richard Ramirez, Jeffrey Dahmer….

“She’s shakin’ like a god damn leaf!” Aileen Wuornos howled, before finishing off the rest of her beer. She slammed it on the table, the clatter made you jump. She doesn’t want me, you thought. I’m not her enemy. Still, you knew that you’d been sat at a table full of people — true monsters — who even if they didn’t want to kill you, they’d take great pleasure in watching you writhe in agony as the others stole your last breath from your lungs.

Though they were all equally terrifying, you were most horrified by Richard. He sat directly next to James, picking absently at his nails. His sunken, snake eyes followed every move you made; watching you with a hunger that made your skin crawl. Considering the circumstances, it was laughable to say that one made you feel unsafer than the others — but he did. Logically, how he preyed upon women must’ve played into your distaste for him. He held your gaze, peering into your thoughts with a vicious lack of consent, as he behaved with every woman he came in contact with. Finally, he spoke.

“I’ve waited long enough, Jimmy — can we kill her?” He said, sucking something out of his rotting teeth. He made a move as though he was going to get up.

You snapped your head to James, brows knit together in pleading. The visual surprised you. He, like the rest of the dinner party, had been staring at you, but instead of the feral, blood hungry gaze you expected, his eyes had gone glassy. He sucked his cheeks in, deep in thought. Beneath the dark fabric of his dress pants, heat blanketed his groin. You captivated him; the way your precious little eyes flitted back and forth in terror like a deer, the way your pulse thrummed in your neck, beating like a drum. He wanted you for his own — and only his own. Keeping his motives hidden, James stood up, smoothing out the fabric of his suit jacket.

“No,” he crooned. “No, we can’t. I’m afraid I’ve had a change of heart… this one… belongs to me.”

You jerked your head in confusion, while grumbles of disappointment bounced off the walls. Ramirez said something sickening and Gacy let out a horrible, guttural chuckle. You strained against the rope, somehow trying to put more distance between you and them. James sliced his hand through the air to silence them both.

“Miss Wuornos,” he abruptly purred. “Go find us a dashing young man keen to join our party!”

“Ohohoh…. Lil’ ol’ me? Find a man? I’m gonna’ be frolickin’ in the fuckin’ daisy fields with this one. Be back!”

“Pl-please.” You begged. Your lips parted, allowing desperate promises to fall from between them. You wouldn’t tell anyone, you’d never come back here, you wouldn’t remember anything, you promised, you would never speak a word of this to anyone… You looked to James, who regarded you affectionately, but patronisingly, his lower lip jutted out in a faux-pout. He’d heard all this before, and it was of no concern to him. He’d made up his mind. It was his god damned birthday and he was going to have you all to himself.

Your begging fell on seemingly deaf ears, nobody bothered to entertain you. Your teary, burning eyes flitted to Ramirez, who was smiling his ugly, decaying smile at you, leaning forward in his seat. “I dunno’, she promises, Jimmy… maybe we should let her go.”

You shivered, grinding your wrists against the rope. Anger blanketed you. “Fuck off, weirdo.”

“Who you callin’ weirdo, bitch?”

“YOU!” You barked, straining. “I can smell your rancid breath from here. Had to kill all those women just because none of them would ever come within ten fucking feet of you!”

“Now, now… manners. She’s a lively one, isn’t she?” His mouth bent in a proud smirk, James looked to Richard, who was still bristling from the comment. He really wanted to kill you. Delighted at the fact that James had seemingly given you immunity, you wiggled happily in your chair, fighting the urge to stick your tongue out. You didn’t want to test him, though, and so you remained silent, watching instead.

Silence was broken as the door opened. With a little thrashing, almost as desperate as your own had been, Aileen shoved a man — couldn’t have been more than 30 — inside. It didn’t take her long to find someone. In fact, it was like she opened the door, spotted him meandering by and dragged him back inside.

The guy noticed you first. Second, he noticed that you were tied to the chair so tightly that red marks on your wrists and ankles had begun to develop. Thirdly, he noticed the others, his eyes drifting slowly and visibly disturbed by who sat at the table.

“Woah… what the fuck is this?” He asked.

“A good fuckin’ time is what it is.” One of them said. You didn’t care which. Blisteringly hot tears streamed down your face, stinging your cheeks. What were the stages of grief? You felt like you were cycling through them in rapid succession.

“Fucking let me go!” You howled, thrashing your torso back and forth, which did little to relieve anything. With a distressed expression plastered upon his face, the guy looked from you to the other guests and back, before nervously putting his hands up, taking one step back towards the door. “Hey, is she okay?”

“N—!“ James was suddenly behind you, cupping his hand over your mouth, pressing the tips of his fingers hard into your cheek flesh. His lips moved quickly, whispering hotly into your ear. “Hush now, don’t spoil the surprise for him. Let him find out on his own.”

“She’s fine, the hors d’oeuvres didn’t agree with her.” Aileen barked, towing the guy towards the table. She shoved him down into the only unoccupied seat.

“Dinner… is served.” James said.

In unison, they all stood up. The sound of the chair legs scraping against the floor echoed in your head. Like syncronised swimmers, they all descended upon him, armed with whatever weapon they’d chosen. You hadn’t known the guy, but he had enough sympathy for you to make you cry at what was happening to him. He’d had a life, family… feelings. None of which mattered to him anymore, or perhaps that’s exactly what he was thinking about. Perhaps your entire life really did flash before your eyes before you died.

You let out a scream that burned on its way out. It ached and tore and ripped its way up your windpipe as the shrill, bloodcurdling sound filled the room. It was louder than his, and louder than the sounds that were currently coming from the gaping, gargling hole in his throat.

Gacy moved from his side, allowing you a brief glimpse. Torn flesh hung from his shoulders and blood had almost completely covered the front of his body. You closed your eyes and turned your head away, rolling your lips inward and biting down. It was fucked up, and you weren't going to absorb any more of it.

“Sweet dreams, my little pet.” James said, in front of you. You turned your head towards the sound, but were met with blackness.

A dull throbbing on the side of your head was what eventually pulled you awake, forcing your cinder-block weighted lids to peel apart. You looked around; an odd, minimally decorated room. Dark. Your head wobbled as you turned it left, then right, met with the same visual — your arms suspended high above your head, and rope again, at your wrists. You licked your lips and tasted metal. In your blurred vision, you noticed red flecked along your breasts. The ache on the side of your head was more than just an ache, it seemed.

Your consciousness ebbed, fading in and out. Sleep was comforting, the idea of it cradling you in its arms like a baby. You wanted so badly to sleep… just for a moment. Somewhere inside, you heard authoritative voices, advising against sleep. Concussions… sleep… sleep is bad… keep the individual conscious. And so you fought against the cool, towering shadow, turning your head away from nothing in particular. You couldn’t hear anything outside of your own laboured breathing, and the creak of the rope every time you decided to move. Nothing. Not even the muted voices of the monsters.

Time meant nothing, you lost track of how long you’d been hanging there when you’d finally heard the creak of a heavy door. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly before wrenching them open. You weren’t sure if the crushing weight you felt was the looming weight of death as it shrouded you, or merely the physical strain of your body being suspended for hours. You knew people could eventually die from suspension. Their lungs caved in or something. The tips of your toes barely touched the floor, your big toe grazing the cold, concrete floor every time your body swayed softly.

With your head hanging between your shoulders, your muscles quivered as you lifted it, just in time to see the door in front of you shut. James, standing in front of it, reached for a black leather apron that hung on a hook. Before slipping it over his head, he flashed you a charming smile, pleased to see that you hadn’t expired yet. Reaching behind him to tie it around his waist, he approached you. The light from the wall sconces reflected against the fabric dully.

“Ah, there you are.” He crooned.

You intended a scream, but could do nothing but whimper. You swallowed repeatedly, a feeble attempt to wet your dried out throat. James drug a single finger along your soft jawline, trailing it down your neck, and along your collarbone. You were drenched in sweat, streaks of it descending your face and neck.

The sudden ferocity in which he gripped your face made it sting, his thumb and forefinger digging into the bone of your jaw. He quirked a brow. You opened your mouth and although your throat was already raw, you finally screamed. You screamed again, angrily, and held his cold, black gaze. Your ragged shrieks filled the room over and over again as you tried, desperately, to wrench your hands free from the ropes.

Regrettable, James thought as his soulless eyes hungrily took in your form as it quivered and thrashed around. You were built like a Greek goddess, soft curves in all the right places, begging to be touched, worshipped.

“Aaaah,” He exhaled, frustratedly. “You’re almost too pretty to kill.”

“Then — DON’T! Fucking let me GO! AaaarhhhH!” You yanked at the ropes again, thrashing around until a deep pain in your shoulder began to burn. You cried out, letting your body go slack.

With a deep breath, you mustered up all your strength again, finding every drop of it within your tired body, and leaned forward to scream directly in his face. The result? He was wholly unphased by your screams. If anything, it seemed like he enjoyed them. Each one sounded a little more desperate than the last, and it only fuelled him further.

You decide to try a new, last-ditch tactic. Sore mouth contorting into a scowl, you gathered a mouthful of saliva and blood, hot and irony on your tongue and lunged forward, spitting it at him. The glob hit him square in the face, dripping slowly down towards his jaw.

“What, is it hard to focus?” You croaked. Your words were slurred, messy with the pain of the head wound. “Didn’t think you’d want to fuck me as bad as you do, huh?”

James’ dark eyes narrowed, the muscles underneath twitching faintly. He had in fact picked you, and therefore had to accept all of your fiery little quips as they came – but that one… that one had caught him off guard.

“You…” You narrowed your eyes, the fibres of the rope squeaking as you leaned towards him, your lips inches from his face. “…want to fuck me so bad, you can’t think. Look at you. You think your apron hides it?”

With brows raised, James glanced at his groin. Had he really been betrayed by his own body, so early on? Though he felt the warmth and stiffness increasing between his legs, there was no visual indication. James calmly brought his hand to his face, collecting the bloodied spit on his fingertips. With a reticent gaze, he brought them down between your legs, harshly knuckling the nightgown out of the way.

He smeared them roughly on your cunt. Your own fluids. The ones that you had just spit at him. Not only that, but he proceeded to tease your sensitive nerves with his fingers, pulling a confused gasp from your throat. Part of you had been bluffing, you weren’t entirely sure that he had wanted you —

James pulled back an inch to look at you again. Aside from your luscious body, your complexion was mottled with exhaustion, lips dry with fear, hair frazzled and bloody on one side. To him, it was a horrific sculpture of divinity. One that he had created in such little time with such little effort. The perfect, ample curves of your breasts were dotted with crimson, having dripped from the gash on your head. They jiggled delicately with each desolate shake you gave.

With his free hand, he took hold of your round, plush hips, his thumb working the softness like dough. He swung you towards him, pressing the pillowy tops of your thighs to his groin. Quickly, he identified a growing obsession with your body.

He loved it. All of it. In fact, he hadn’t seen a body as marvellously breathtaking as yours since his wife’s. Of course, it had been many years since he’d seen hers in any such manner, so the flames that licked at his desire were deprived, hungry ones. His mouth found yours, lips crushing against yours. His tongue, hot and strong, slipped in and beckoned yours to engage in an erotic dance.

He pulled your body closer, pressing it tightly against his. Though constricted by his trousers, you felt the bulging heat beneath his apron, and rubbed your thigh against it, teasing him. He groaned deeply in response, bucking his hips against you to force friction. After a few moments, James broke the kiss, panting heavily over your tender, swollen lips.

“Pl-please… don’t kill me… please…”

The back of his hand whipped across your mouth, hitting you so hard that the world sparkled when you opened your eyes again. Your face burned with the contact.

“Enough of that now! Say it again, and I’ll do just that!”

The harshness in his voice stunned you. Up until that point, he’d been using his syrupy, serenading voice — the one he had used to charm you into coming with him. Now, he bellowed, an unexpected violence. Silence hung heavy between you as he waited, baited you to beg for life once more. You didn’t speak again, but your sobs continued.

Finally, his hand dropped between your legs again. Your clit ached, burned with the way his fingers fondled it, but he didn’t stop. Your poor, exhausted body trembled beneath his touch, doing all it could to express arousal. Salty droplets streamed from your hairline into your eyes, stinging as they absorbed.

“Would you rather die?” he asked, suddenly.

“Wh-what? N-no… I d-don’t want to die…”

“That’s not what I meant, my little ember. I meant… would you rather die than be pleasured? I, of course, can arrange that.”

You hesitated a moment, but finally, shook your head.

At this thoughtful confession, James angled forward, plunging a single finger inside of you, past the knuckle. The digit wiggled inside of you briefly, before sliding back out slowly. He held it up for you both to see. “Oh,” he growled.

His finger was generously coated in clear slick. Your body had betrayed you.

Wordlessly, he untied the apron, tossing it carelessly to the side – it hit the floor with a heavy flop. Then, those same nimble fingers began unbuttoning and unzipping, until they gripped his rigidness, pumping it slowly for further stimulation. His chest heaved with wanton, desiring breaths as he stared at you, hanging there, with your warm, ample body for his taking. James lined his dick up with your leaking slit, and pulled you harshly onto his cock, showing no mercy for how exhausted your body was.

Your cunt swallowed his cock whole, hungrily and desperately. His head fell back between his shoulders, a throaty groan coming from his open mouth. He began thrusting, slow at first. The ease of thrusting fascinated him; your body hung limp on the ropes and all James had to do was tug you forward, tug you in the direction he wanted you to go.

“You know, I’ve never taken a woman like this before - suspended in the air,” he said, breathily. “Exquisite.”

You mewled in response, snot dripping from your nose.

Soon, the room was filled with wet, slick thrusting and the thudding sound of his torso as it met yours. You came repeatedly, coating his thick, pale cock in fluids you didn’t even know your body could make. At one point, during a particularly vicious thrusting, a warm, watery liquid splashed down over your thighs. You screamed like he was killing you, though he felt better than any man you’d ever been with, pleasuring you in ways that left you feeling breathless.

Still, your body persisted with its aches. So far, you’d been successful in appealing to his sexual nature, and decided to try again.

“….please…. Let me down… I’ll… d-do anything you wa—

Suddenly, he backed up, pulling the head from your cunt with a slick pop. You panted; fragile, pitiful breaths, barely enough energy to lift your gaze. With his rigid cock bouncing in front of him, James untied your hands, allowing your heavy, enervated body to fall into his arms. You couldn’t help but cry into his shoulder as he carried you to some sort of surface, laying you carefully down atop it. Some streak of mercy had captured him, and you mouthed words of gratitude. Your entire body buzzed with relief, your muscles aching in a funny, tingling way.

James wasted no time in fucking you again; the tip was nearly scarlet, hungry for release. His hand compressed on your soft stomach, pressing down into it to increase the pressure of his cock as it drove deeper and deeper inside of you.

“You know how this ends, my dear.” When he spoke, it sounded far away. But you did. You knew. There was never any end to this besides the one that you’d envisioned fearfully. He leaned to the side, retrieving a small, but very, very sharp blade from a nearby metal table. You watched numbly as James lifted the knife above your neck.

His hips pumped rhythmically, bringing you both closer to the fiery edge of ecstasy. Pulsing veins massaging your silklike insides, and another orgasm galloped towards you. Your body quivered, cold sweats taking over.

James whipped the knife across your perfectly warm neck, and instinctively, your hands went to the laceration. Bright crimson gushed out from the spaces between your fingers, and you felt a gushy warmth press against your digits. The inner workings of your throat, you realized. The gore of your own body, pressing back against you in its heat. James laid one hand over yours, seemingly just to feel the blood as it spurted. With a deep, guttural moan, his cock twitched inside you just before it released, coating your insides.

She gasped, a wet gurgle. The light left her eyes, gradually, but beautifully. The pulses of blood eventually ebbed to a dull trickle. As his thrusts slowed, he expelled a long sigh – killing both excited him and depressed him. On one hand; it brought exhilaration, delight and sheer unadulterated arousal. On the other however, you only truly got to do it once. Certainly, you could kill a ghost a million times over, but the effect wasn’t the same.

For a moment, James’ expression contorted into one of regret; when you returned in your new spectral form, you’d likely not want to spend time with him. Yet another woman who loathed his presence roaming the hallways, avoiding him. But perhaps, he still wouldn’t mind having you stuck with him for all eternity, if only to gaze upon your perfect form whenever you’d let him. With matching wounds, at that. A true romantic.

t a g l i s t : @kaismanwich / @garykingz / @elsamars / @silverzoomies / @tatesdisasterofalover / @thewolveswithin / @80strashbag / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @stucktothetwo / @enchanting-evan / @yesdevineruler / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @my-own-walker / @kai-slut / @demxnicprxncess / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @dewberryobssesed / @the-goblin1 / @dirtyfairy97 / @jellyluvr / @strangerthings420 / @kai-anderson-whore / @babygorewhore / @quickandsilvers / @tatelangdonsweater / @ifeeltoofuckingmuch / @howtobesasha / @randominstake / @throwinginmythai / @slvt4jamesmarch / @poltoreveur / @feefymo / @evpeters87 / @lacucarachapisser / @stveharringtn / @fear-is-truth

#fuck it we ball #James Patrick March #James Patrick March x you #James Patrick March x reader #james march x reader #ahs smut #ahs fanfiction #AHS Hotel #American Horror Story Hotel #myfics

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abrielarnold · 8 months

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@lexosaurus 's Reality Trip Zine piece

Electric Fissure

is up on ao3!!

it was really really cool to go back on forth on which expressions matched the tone of the scenes, and to see some of the behind the scenes writing process!

(jazz is so so so good in this. just. danny in pain + mvp jazz is my favourite combo.)

(also i am very proud of the fake amity park news logo. graphic design is my passion)

Read the full zine here! @dpauzine

Individual illustrations below the cut!

#dannyphantom #dpauzine #reality trip zine #abrielart #fanart #man. i peaked with those lichtenberg figures. they turned out so good. still chasing that high.#lexosaurus #ficrecs

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redactedrem · 5 days

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You know what? Fuck you. *Ponifies Batman*

Guys I'm so excited to share my newest project of ponifying the Batfam, it started out small with the hypothetical "I wonder what Batman would be like in a mlp universe." And then the project kept getting bigger and bigger.

If anyones interested in my world building/ headcanons surrounding this project, you can see it under the cut. (I didn't want to make the post too long.)

Incase anybody couldn't read my bad handwriting, I gotchuuu.

-(First pic) Bruce Wayne: Bruce had got his cutiemark the night of his parents death, after the grief had broken his spirit and he realized that he never wanted anypony else to feel the same pain as he does. (He has a fake cutiemark to cover up his obvious destiny)

- The first pic is pretty self explanatory, but I want to make it clear that Bruce's destiny isn't "My parents are dead so now I dress up as a bat and beat up mentally ill folk". Because I've seen people on here give hot takes on cutiemarks that directly link them to a ponies destiny.

This goes for specifically in the mlp fandom but (for the sake of being on topic) I'll use the the example of that one post where someone gave the hot take that Jason would get his cutiemark in the warehouse right before he dies (or after he dies? smthing like that) because "It would be really fucked up to know that you were always destined to die." And listen, I can appreciate some good Jason Todd whump as the next guy but knowing that this would be based in a mlp universe . . . just doesn't sit right with me.

It sounds less magical that way. Its like saying that Rainbow Dash was always meant to be the fastest flyer, so theres no point in trying to compete with her. So uhm, trying to stay on topic here. My personal hot take is that a pony's cutiemark is symbol of something that they do/ a skill or talent that they have that makes them happy. And whats a more magical and fulfilling destiny than doing something that makes you happy for the rest of your life?

Looping back to Bruce, he didn't get his cutiemark the moment his parents died, but I like to think that he got it sometime later on in the night. After hours of being checked on by the police, getting looked at by the paramedics, and after Alfred took him home. Its 1:40ish in the morning and tiny foal-Bruce is just staring at his bedroom wall feeling numb and dissociated to hell. And sometime after processing everything that night- he just decides that this is the worst thing that has ever happened to him and that he will do anything to make sure that nopony will ever feel the same pain that he has felt. And then-- Ta da!! Cutiemark!! Too bad neither he or Alfred got to experience the excitement when they both saw it the next day :')

(Edit: I didn't know where to put this detail, but Bruce's fake cutiemark is based off of the "Make It Wayne" TV logo from this fanfic here )

-(Second pic) The Bat: This is heavily inspired by Flutterbat, I know theres canonically already a race of bat ponies made from Lunas stunt as Nightmare Moon. But I chose to go through with the Flutterbat route because batponies are a race, and have bat-like features 24/7. In comparison Fluttershy maintains her pegasus appearance by day and transforms into Flutterbat at night (ALSO with there being implications that there are "Triggers" for her transformations in the day too!!) Which adds the "Vampire." right in front of her batpony title.

I might do a lil comparison chart between vampire batponies and regular batponies in the future or something. But for now I'm focusing on my batpony Bruce Wayne headcanons so yea. My point is that I felt like making Bruce a "vampire" batpony would give him a more solid secret identity with also the bonus of a really metal origin story.

Now we all know that the canonical origin story of batman is that a few months after the tragedy of his parents death, Bruce had fallen into a cave? a well? a pit? of bats and triggered a fear of bats since then. Later on he decides to become Batman so he can invoke the fear of bats he once had into the criminals of Gotham. Yadda yadda yadda.

Now canonically, we don't know the exact science on how Fluttershy turned into Flutterbat. What we do know is that at the time, pony magic is not researched enough for Twilight to be aware that Fluttershys "Stare" is her own form of pony magic and that it would interfere with Twilights spell.

Do you see where I'm getting at here? Uhmm don't ask me what exactly happened in the cave, I'm doing this for fun and thinking about it too hard makes me spiral. But uhmm something something- Bruce looked at a bat in the eye and decided to embrace his biggest fear to fuel his cause, and his already traumatized and fucked up pony magic had transformed his body- something something. (Edit: I didn't think about this until now but maybe Fluttershys "Stare" and Bruces "Bat Glare" could be a usage of the same form of magic? Just a thought)

I'll probably come up with a more suitable explanation in the future, but like I said. All of this is just for fun.

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thanksjro · 5 months

Text

Transformers Holiday Special (2015) — Wishing You and Yours a Delightfully Secular Wintertime, Containing Absolutely Zero References to the Birth of Christ

Despite what some might like to think, Christmas isn’t for everyone; even with all the commercialization, at its heart, it’s still about the Baby Jesus. You can tell that we haven’t shaken the Christian connection, because the cover for this special issue has the father, the son, and the holy spirit, which is hidden behind the company logo.

And if Rodimus doesn’t stop screwing around, his resurrection’s gonna have to happen a lot sooner than Easter.

Because this is a comic special, things are going to be a little different. Instead of one standard-size issue, we’re getting three mini-stories, each with their own writer (from each of the comic runs that were publishing at the time) and artist. Our stories are listed here:

Don’t worry about what Ultra Magnus is up to behind that text.

Now, you may ask, why on earth am I covering this issue, which is a specifically Christmassy one, now, when it’s not currently Christmas? Well, according to Roberts, the story “Silent Light” takes place after MTMTE #49, and #50 is when the crew manifest for the Lost Light gets shaved down some, so realistically, this is when “Silent Light” happens in continuity. So I want you to keep in mind that Getaway’s Christmas isn’t going so great.

I won’t be going back to catch up on the other runs’ plots, as the Christmas stories are stand-alone.

Getting into it, our first story is:

Penned by Mairghread Scott and drawn by Corin Howell. We open up on a cityscape featuring a happy sun and some eye-searing narration boxes.

I went to Howell’s Twitter to see what her deal was, and was greeted with a banner consisting of a sexy succubus lady with her boobies out, so I’m going to assume she simplified her style for this issue, since mecha are hella difficult to draw.

Also, I hope you like the structure of How The Grinch Stole Christmas!, because that’s what we’re getting for the next little while, complete with chunky, white text on painful-to-view red.

Our story opens with all the transformers from the colonies visiting Cybertron and making friends with each other. Everything is beautiful and nothing hurts, which pisses off President-King Starscream to no end. Being the drama queen that he is, Starscream feels that everyone should be paying attention to him 24/7 and feed him grapes as he reclines on a sofa, because hasn’t he done enough for all these sorry sacks of shit? He hasn’t even caused a war, unlike the last guy who was in charge. Bumblebee (who is a ghost) tells him to just be fucking nice for once in his miserable life, but Starscream wouldn’t be Starscream if he could settle down like that.

Our god-king of the planet calls for his aide, Rattrap, who is going to be in his alt mode for the entirety of this story, to help him set up for a public broadcast addressing his need for attention and adoration.

He sends Rattrap off to deliver the tape to the news, which seems to consist of two very sleep-deprived individuals. Because they’re apparently the only two robots stupid enough to attempt to cover the nightmare hellscape that is Cybertronian current events, the last bit of Starscream’s tape is cut off when one of them falls asleep on the switchboard. This turns Starscream’s personal worship holiday into “For the Love of God Be Nice to Each Other” Day. Everyone takes to it beautifully, getting BFF tattoos, going on vacation with their husbands, hugging in the straightest gay way possible, holding parades, giving each other bombs, and getting absolutely shitfaced.

Starscream, distraught that nobody is giving him the emperor treatment like he had wanted, sulks in his twin bed, then moves to his dinky little throne as the night wears on, making the most miserable faces he can the whole time. Eventually, Chosen One Day ends, and he’s been completely ignored. Very sad.

Then, there’s a knock on his door, and Starscream creeps over to the peephole just in time to be smashed flat by Wheeljack slamming the door open. Last time we saw Wheeljack he was assumed dead by most, and floating in a tank at Starscream’s behest. He’s gotten better since then, clearly.

Wheeljack came with friends— the entirety of the main cast for Windblade/Til All Are One, to be exact— and they’re here to make sure that Starscream isn’t completely alone on this friendship holiday he accidentally invented. Everyone toasts to his good, totally intentional idea, and Starscream decides against killing all of them for at least the next 24 hours.

Now pay attention to this next story, because it’s actually canon-relevant, because of course Roberts would write a holiday special mini-comic that ties into his overarching plot. Fucking nerd.

Our artist for “Silent Light” is Kotteri (or Kotteri!, as it’s been written on some of their other publications) the pen name for Ikumi Fukuda. Kotteri is primarily a manga artist, having created their own works and well as working on other projects. I admittedly can’t find much on this person, not even their preferred pronouns, TFWiki itself using “they”, which I will default to. All of the info they’ve provided themself is, of course, written in Japanese, but even running things through a translator only proves that information to be purely professional. Their personal Twitter is protected, and my follow request was never answered, as far as I know. There’s a fan Twitter account for their art that claims “she”, but I have no way to verify, and I don’t want to assume anything based on art style, because that’s sort of shitty. Let it never be said that I didn’t do my due diligence here— I fucking hate using Twitter.

We open with Rodimus having just returned from Meteorfest, a festival where you surf on meteors and avoid your co-captain and SIC’s calls like the putz you are. He’s greeted by said co-captain and SIC decorating assembling a Christmas tree cloaking machine and finishing each other’s sentences like an old married couple. Rodimus tries to deny the existence of Minimegs, then we get our heavy-handed and lampshaded explanation for the crux of the issue. Megatron handles Minimus like a baby doll as the two of them explain that the Lost Light is about to hit Mauler territory.

Maulers are notorious for wanting the Cybertronians dead, but Megatron is too much of a macho man to pussy out and go around them. So instead, the crew will be hiding in special sleeping pods that will mask their spark signatures, and pray to their pantheon of gods that no one notices the ship the size of Manhattan. Brainstorm has like fifteen new inventions, despite being on house arrest from his lab. Megatron’s autobot badge is wearing a hat. Merry fucking Christmas.

Over at Swerve’s, it would appear that everyone’s favorite television junkie is closed for business, as it’s just him, Nautica, and Whirl, sitting on the floor getting absolutely shit-faced on subspace-filtered engex. This might’ve been an issue, as folks are supposed to be bedding down in their B.E.D.s for the next leg of the trip, but Swerve slipped Magnus some Bing Crosby earlier so they’re cool right now.

There’s a banging at the door, and Whirl decides to answer, even though it’s not his bar, because if it’s trouble come a-knocking, it was probably looking for Whirl anyhow.

When Whirl answers, however, it’s not Magnus having caught wind of Nautica disrespecting the Autobot code, but an entirely different flavor of problem.

Now, I know that thing Whirl’s holding looks like a fucked up Hitachi Wand, but it is, in fact, an entire-ass baby robot. It seems that when Cerebros (Fortress Maximus’s friend, if you’ll recall) sent the engex through the subspace, this infant Cybertronian (Luna One-ian?) got mixed in with the other supplies.

We learn a bit about how baby Cybertronians work before we remember, oh right, this kid is gonna get everyone killed if they catch wind of her spark, since there isn’t a B.E.D. for her. Yes, it’s a girl! Congrats to our three idiots on their Cybertronian gender non-conforming little princess.

They gang decides to shunt her back through the subspace hatch, so they head over to where it’s currently being housed— the office of Ultra Magnus. Nautica, using her wits and all the tools in her arsenal, smashes the window to the office and they break in. The empty Magnus Armor sits in the dark like a grim monument to being married to your job. Whirl informs Nautica how to comfort the baby that he super for-sure doesn’t care about, handing her off while he uses his titty glass to replace the window in the door. Swerve tries to bite through iron chains holding the subspace hatch hostage, only to be stopped by the sound of justice coming down the hall.

The gang, of course, looks suspicious as hell standing stock straight immediately in front of Magnus’s office, but Minimus rather likes the change of pace out of these goofy morons, and is maybe also trying to deflect his embarrassment at being caught performing his own personal karaoke. He sends them off to their B.E.D.s, and it looks like all’s well that ends well until Whirl asks where Sparky is.

Yes, he named the baby.

Don’t worry though, he’s totally not attached or whatever.

Nautica, in her panic to not be caught stealing/vandalizing/using equipment she doesn’t have the clearance for, stuffed Sparky in the Magnus Armor. And also put the helmet portion back on the body, for some reason. Anyway, it looks like our little princess is gonna be a load-bearer when she grows up, because Magnus is up and looking for hugs. Nautica, a paragon of level-headed thinking in times of crisis, handles this in the best way she can.

And that’s a wrap on Minimus Ambus! Let’s give him a hand, folks! And let’s also give a hand to the new Ultra Magnus, Miss Sparky Whirldòttir! Where did that little scamp get to, anyhow?

Swerve nominates himself to be the one to drag Minimus to a B.E.D. to sleep off his concussion, leaving Whirl and Nautica to track down the baby.

The scene changes to Megatron announcing a last call for beddy-bye time on the intercom, just as Ultra Sparky enters the room. She looms over Megatron, putting him in a very compromising position as he hits the intercom button with his arm. Rodimus, climbing into his own B.E.D., wishes that his co-captain and SIC would stop being gay for, like, five minutes, or at least wouldn’t do it where it can be broadcasted throughout the whole ship in audio format.

Whirl and Nautica come save Megatron from the onslaught of physical affection, stating that “Magnus” has had a bit too much to drink. Megatron orders them to bed from his fetal position on the countertop.

It’s bedtime, but we still haven’t figured out how to get the kid back to Luna 1 so the Maulers don’t super-murder the whole crew. Nautica leaves Whirl to figure it out, getting into B.E.D. and wondering who the fuck knocked on the door in the first place. Whirl tells her not to worry about it and to go to sleep, so he can be the one to deal with this mess.

Whirl, notorious for doing all the nastiest jobs— former Wrecker, intended bullet sponge for the time travel situation, attempting suicide via Megatron— is going to add another tally to the list labeled “Reasons My Peers Don’t Really Like Me All That Much”, by throwing an entire baby out the air lock.

However, Whirl is being written by Roberts, who would never allow the number of robot babies to go down, so Sparky’s adorable assimilation of Whirl’s signature physical features gets him right in the soft underbelly he swears doesn’t exist.

Wow, Roberts put a baby in that robot. Surely this is as overt as we’re going to get with this imagery, since we’re in a major publication and not some fan-fiction!

ANYWAY

Whirl wakes up in the Medibay, emptied of infant and freaked the hell out about it. Velocity— who I will remind you is basically the only medical doctor on the Lost Light, since everyone else is too busy getting railed by weeaboos and joining unethical polycules to do their actual jobs—informs him that his daughter is, in actuality, a massive colony of scraplets that combined to look like a newborn.

It turns out that Nautica is a bit of a snitch, having spilled the beans after she woke up. Whether or not she thought Whirl had thrown the baby out the air lock isn’t really addressed, but thank god he didn’t, because then we would have had to send everyone’s favorite gun-addled dipshit to jail for the rest of forever. Checking security footage revealed who the mystery knocker was— it was the scraplets, forming the shape of an arm.

When Nautica asks how the hell they all survived this, seeing as Whirl kept the murder baby, Whirl informs her that he cut off power to his own spark to allow everyone else to live, including his sweet baby princess, winning him a #1 Dad mug, and also several emails from Rung to please make an appointment with him.

Whirl’s miracle Christmas baby lied and stole with the intent to murder everyone on board, and that makes her the ultimate daddy’s girl.

I hope you’ve all enjoyed this canon-important holiday special story about Whirl becoming a father.

In our third and final story, it appears we’ve been transported to Whoville, by the talent of our MTMTE Season 1 colorist, Josh Burcham. Within Whoville resides Anna Log, a human woman who owns two turbofoxes and sleeps in full military body armor on her couch. The wall in her living room suddenly explodes, revealing a late-night visitor.

Motherfucker, you are supposed to be on the ship right now.

Mega-Claus fusion-cannons Anna Log, and we cut to a film noir office where none other than Thundercracker has his feet up on the desk. The art grayscales for this section, as he narrates that he’s a detective. He’s wearing a fedora. It’s January 7th. He has a mysterious past and probably thinks that makes him very sexy.

The phone rings, cueing Buster, Thundercracker’s puggle, to put on her own fedora, and the two go to see the crime scene, where Thundercracker is the same size as a normal human man and wears a trench coat.

It turns out that Anna Log is the director of security for the entirety of planet Earth, which is sort of a big deal. When Thundercracker and the cops look at the security footage, they see who did it— Santa Claus, played by Megatron himself. Fucked up.

Sure, pal.

Thundercracker must now fly to the North Pole and kill Santa, because that’s how the law works. He transforms, flies by Club Penguin and a Coke commercial, reflects on his job, and then gets ready for a fight with Santa’s security measures, as Busters glowing nose warns him of incoming danger. She’s very talented, Buster.

Thundercracker makes quick work of the cybernetic security reindeer with his twin energy katanas and Buster’s jetpack. He kicks down Santa’s door to find the jolly elf himself standing in the dark, potentially rabid. The two start kung-fu beating the shit out of each other. It should be noted that this Santa isn’t the Megatron Santa, who shows up behind the two as they brawl, but rather original-flavor fat man Santa. How Thundercracker didn’t notice this isn’t addressed.

Thundercracker demands to know why Megatron dressed up as Santa Claus to commit a murder— the murder part made sense, Director Log and Megatron would be diametrically opposed— and Megatron reveals the greatest slight against himself he’s ever known.

Framing Santa for murder ain’t exactly gonna turn that coal into a diamond, Meggy baby.

Thundercracker clocks Megatron, he becomes besties with Santa Claus, and they ride a flying tank into the sunset. Thus ends Thundercracker’s most brilliant writing project yet, which he was reading to Marissa Faireborn this entire time.

Marissa isn’t terribly impressed, poking holes in all the little nonsense bits, while also not feeling thrilled about having been killed off in the first two pages of Thundercracker’s book. While the two argue, Buster and Ayana Jones make a Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown! reference together, and the issue closes out with a big ol’ Autobot symbol, even though Thundercracker was a Decepticon, Ayana and Marissa are humans, and Buster is a goddamned dog.

Thus ends the Holiday Special. Up next, more direct story progression!

#transformers #MTMTE #holiday special #jro punches me in the face #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing

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user4207292926282 · 2 years

Text

growth spurt

summary: teenage boy vs boobs

mike wheeler x fem!reader

part 2

mike, lucas, dustin, and the rest of the hellfire gang sat in mike’s basement the dnd game all set up and ready, waiting for you to arrive. they had made some sort of something up for your character so you could join back at anytime. something about freezing ur brain? it was very confusing and you gave up about halfway thru eddie trying to explain it. mike was seated next to eddie, deep in conversation about what they think you look like now.

‘bro she probably looks the exact same.’

‘there is no way kid. a girl like her goes to a summer camp? she’s gonna be a whole new woman when she comes back.’ eddie stares knowingly at mike, leaned back and legs spread.

‘she won’t be that different. i mean her hair will be a little longer, but in the four years i’ve known y/n she has not changed one bit.’ mike replied, knowing you literally have been wearing the same graphic t-shirts since the 6th grade.

‘cmon mike-’ eddie’s rebuttal was interrupted by loud shuffling upstairs and a loud door slam. all the conversation stopped as the party listened to you talk to mrs. wheeler and try to escape her attempts at small talk. finally after a few minutes of a painful interrogation from mike’s mom you made it to the basement. you crept down the stairs, slightly concerned at the lack of conversation. but then you finally made it to the bottom of the stairs. and boy was mike wrong.

the hellfire shirt you got at the start of summer barely fit you now, your bust stretching the logo quite a bit, you had also cut the shirt to show just a sliver of your abdomen,and the shorts you wore did nothing to conceal your long legs. but the part that really got mike was your hair, what had once gone past your hips, was now just below your ears, with bangs. mike had never seen you with bangs. mike just stared as he felt cupid’s arrow shoot him straight thru the heart.

he didn’t know how long he’d been staring until he felt eddie’s hand clap on his back and push him towards you. he stumbled forward and ran into a hug with you. he felt your hands tense in shock, but then slide around his waist and pull hum farther into you. he immediately followed your action and pulled your head just under his. pulling away, he looked into your eyes, scared if he stayed there any longer he’d never be able to let go. his hands fell to your upper arms as he stared.

‘what?’ you asked. confused as to why he was glaring as you so intensely.

‘ you cut your hair.’ he mumbled quietly under his breath. his hand reaching out and softly touching the peice closest to your face.

‘yeah. yeah i did.’ you said as you laughed. turning out of his grasp to walk to greet everyone else and finally catch up. but all mike could think about was how you hair moved as you talked. and your bare thigh kept brushing against his. and how it felt when you would giggle when he said something funny. but his favorite was how good it felt to have you in his arms.

you were the last to leave, pecking him on the cheek before running out to get your bike from his yard and start the journey home.

he quickly ran up to his room, careful to hide his hard-on from his mother cooking in the kitchen. he couldn’t even handle seeing you for four hours today, how is he gonna handle seeing you every single day at school?

a/n it’s literally 1am. i read this over once. i don’t love it. but i have 2 start somewhere ig. pls lemme know if u see any spelling mistakes (or just writing mistakes in general), even tho i will not fix them. this is my first fanfic. hope u like it baes. feel free to send in a request. i have 0 ideas rn. happy reading.

LEMME KNOW IF U WANNA PART TWO :DDDDDD

part two coming ?soon?

#mike wheeler x reader #fem!reader #mike wheeler #mike wheeler x fem!reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader #fanfic #fluff #cutie #pt.2???

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dlartistanon · 7 months

Note

There's a Liz CG in chapter 13 and I'm both excited and scared at the same time... Please enlighten us on what happened when you've got the time (っ °Д °;)っ

Let me tell you that I nearly jumped out of my seat when I first saw that CG. And let me tell you that Liz's expression was the second thing that gave me concern. I absolutely had to know what was going on immediately.

So, below the cut, I'm going to recap the most pertinent parts regarding this scene. Afterwards, I will reblog with my thoughts and commentary, and some speculation.

Shiningale focus? In my main plot? IT'S MORE LIKELY THAN YOU THINK.

CHAPTER 13 SPOILERS AHEAD

First off, this scene involving Logos, Ascalon, and Salus:

Logos: How far have you tampered with your… "bloodline"? It’s unimaginable that you are blood relatives of the Follower Shining. Such an outstanding person must always repent for your filth. (This is after Ascalon stabbed Salus in the neck)

After that, there's a conversation between Kal'tsit and Shining:

Kal'tsit: What's Nightingale's status?

Shining: … Outside the window, Shining sees Nightingale sleeping, leaning against a tree. Shining: Not good. Though Liz's state has never been more stable, the levels of Originium content in her body are rising, most likely even affecting her pain nerves.

Kal'tsit: This would not be a normal infection.

Shining: Maybe it's the sorcery devices that Sarkaz have set up on the battlefield, or the whispers of dead souls… I don't know. I can't tell her "I empathize with your pain." I really don't. But she happily told me yesterday that she hasn't felt pain in her sleep for a long time…

Kal'tsit: You're hesitating. You've been hesitating ever since you came back from the Confessarii alone. Do you remember the reason you applied to come along to Londinium in the first place?

Shining: 'To cure Liz'. Dr. Kal'tsit, I have never hesitated, even for a moment, about that goal.

Kal'tsit: Even without knowing the exact state of her condition, we all know what "cure" means.

Shining: What needs to be done hasn't changed… I know.

Kal'tsit: I trust you. The eyes with which you view Nightingale are not only compassionate. You're not the only one who's taking care of her, she's treating your fears as well. Nightingale may be physically challenged, but she is a member of the Followers, your companion, not a delicate flower to be protected. The secrets of the Confessarii are truly stomach-churning. But perhaps it is only by confronting the deepest of abominations that we can unravel the truth.

Shining: …

Kal'tsit: I know you're a little upset, Shining. But as we said at the beginning of our partnership, Rhodes Island will help, if you need it.

Shining: --Thank you, Dr. Kal'tsit. The blue feathered beast lands on Shining's shoulder, chirping. It was Liz's usual way of greeting her. Shining: … Liz is awake, I'm going to get her.

Nightingale then recalls a dream (or a memory?) that's very peculiar. Basically it's her and Shining when they were younger, holding hands and walking along a river and watching a bird, but then something strange and horrifying happened to the bird.

Unfortunately the next thing that happens is that they're ambushed by Confessarius and Salus in an attempt to kidnap Nightingale. Kal'tsit summons Mon3tr but Salus--from her battle with Amiya--is able to restrain Mon3tr. Apparently she was able to do this by performing rituals on herself and finding a way to cannibalize the Arts of other bloodlines. She also dove into Amiya's memories (where it turns out that there's a part of Theresa's soul/consciousness that's protecting Amiya still).

Kal'tsit: Mon3tr!

Shining: Dr. Kal'tsit, you can't move yet. Shining: I told you--you and I will only meet on the battlefield.

Confessarius: Oh? Then why are you hiding your sword at this moment? When you left home, you swore an oath to sever your family's bloodline, and I have longed for you to return and fulfill that oath. I gave you time, and you let me down again and again. We should have given birth* to the next me. It would have been the most ethereal bloodline in nearly a hundred years. Then Liz uses her Arts.

Confessarius: … well. Sharp, but full of impurities. What happened to your soul? Do you still think you have hope while you are away from us?

Shining: … Liz! Come back!

Nightingale: …！I won't… at your mercy!

Confessarius: … oh? You are truly an unexpected piece of work, far beyond my expectations. Even though it's just a body, can it still touch "me"?

Nightingale: Shining, now! I… I can't hold on for long!

Shining: … A strange feeling came over Shining.

Nightingale took the initiative to resist Confessarius and restrained him. The ancient demon clan, which had never seen its true soul, was now more vulnerable than ever. Bloodline. The word bloodline was vague, but at this moment, a long bloody crack seemed to appear right in front of you.

Shining hesitated. How could it be so simple?

How can it be so simple?

Kal'tsit: Nightingale, stop! This is a trap, he's waiting for your Arts!

Nightingale: ——！ Time slowed down.

Confessarius: You and I both know where fate will lead us, but the only one who doesn't know is this poor caged self. Contempt of blood and resistance to destiny are doomed to be in vain. No one can deny the heavenly principles gifted by our bloodline. I will do for you what you hesitated to do, create a gap in the cage… Come into the cage with me, and I will set you on the right path. Think through your options… [ancient Sarkaz name].

On the stone platform covered with dead branches, the white sword pierced the heart.

Shining remembers the first time she cried, how amazing it was, giving birth to emotions that she didn't expect. A new soul is carved and shaped under the sword's edge.

???: I have seen… your pain… your… tears…

Confessarius: Accidents always bring surprises. You could have stopped experimenting right then, but you couldn't bear to destroy the ignorant consciousness in that empty shell. … So you sewed memories into the empty shell.

Shining: She is Liz. She shouldn't…

Confessarius: It is your freedom to name your populated consciousness "Liz".

"Liz" was afraid of the silence of those across the long table. They meet to sit here and have dinner at the same time every day.

But the white-horned Sarkaz holding the sword opposite her had stopped talking to her, taking only notes. "Liz" is always asking herself, 'did I do something wrong to make her angry?'

"Liz" misses the fond memories of their past…

Liz?: I repeat the same dream every day, dreaming about us walking hand in hand in the stream when we were children… Then I flew up, flying higher and higher, but you couldn't hold onto me. From the clouds, I saw you crying. Every time I want to come back to you, I wake up in pain. I ache from feeling your pain and I want to share the burden with you. As long as you tell me why you are suffering… Quesasina.

Shining: …

Confessarius: Quesasina, the name means "hope that does not allow separation", our destiny. She blames herself for your moment of kindness, and she thinks all the fault is her own, this poor "Liz."

Shining: I have abandoned that sinful name. I am now Shining and will only ever be Shining.

Confessarius: Really? Do you think you can resist your family's destiny for thousands of years? I'll wait and see.

"Liz" held the blue feathered beast she rescued from the river in her hands. Her indigo feathers trembled, and the cold river water made her shiver. She thought Quesasina would be angry, but the sad Sarkaz just knitted a brand new birdcage for "Liz".

"Put it in the cage, and it'll be safe from now on."

Liz?: Quesasina, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to risk walking into the river to save it… but I can't just watch it die like this. I fell in love with it when your family gave it to me as a gift. It likes to fly freely, but once it gets too far away from me, it seems to lose its energy and always falls into the river… You said the same thing happened yesterday… but I don't remember it at all. But I will listen to you and put it in a cage. I will protect it. Please don't be angry. I promise you, such a stupid thing will never happen again.

Confessarius: The more fragments and lies you fill her with, the more confusion and pain she will feel. I uncovered the dusty fragments for her. Her awakening is irreversible, and she will eventually painfully disintegrate her rootless consciousness.

Shining: I won't let that happen, Father. I will put an end to our sins with my own hands, and Liz will be cured.

Confessarius: Then what? Isn't her regaining the truth what you fear, dear sister? This is the source of your sad hesitation.

Shining: …

Confessarius: I tolerated you wandering around with this container, and I tolerated you continuing to strengthen this fragile cage… Because I trusted you to love it with all your heart, and you didn't disappoint. Eventually you will come back to me with your cage. And you did. See, she even tried to imprison me to create opportunities to defeat me. Your rebellious love for her and her struggles against fate have sadly become another catalyst.

Shining: You--even using the hope she found in herself?!

Liz?: Shining? Are you here?

Shining: ！

Liz?: I can feel your breath, but I can't see you…

Shining: I'm here, Liz!

Confessarius: She can't hear your voice, we walk within her broken consciousness—the interior of the cage.

Liz?: Shining… there is a burning name and vague question echoing in my mind, but I can't remember it… Maybe I'll remember it when we leave here. I found myself able to share the pain of others to slow the withering of their lives. You said we would go far away to find a cure for me, and maybe I could cure others in pain on our journey.

Shining: …

Confessarius: The disordered and broken memories are flooding her, and sooner or later she will get lost in them. Perhaps she'll go insane, or will kill herself before that happens. But you already know the solution I taught you, Quesasina.

Shining: …

Confessarius: Draw your sword and destroy the bodies of your blood relatives once and for all. Our souls will be reconnected with your sword as a bridge, and you—will give birth. Give birth to eternal authority. This is a fate you cannot escape. Become one with me and nourish her otherwise shattered consciousness with the remains of your blood family.

Shining: … Liz, forgive me.

Shining clenched the sword in her arms, her hand already on the scabbard.

Confessarius: Finally, Quesasina…

From the scabbard, morning and dusk are about to pour out. But at this moment, a hand held Shining's sleeve.

Nightingale: Shining, I like your current name a lot more.

Shining: Liz…

Nightingale: I seem to have slept for a long time, lost in countless fragments. But I heard your voice, and you guided me to a place buried among the debris. There, I dug up fragments of memories… I still haven't remembered them all. But I remembered the question that should have been answered long ago… I forgive you. I forgave you even before you cruelly sealed my memories away… That's why, I'm angry at you for making these decisions all by yourself.

Shining: …

Nightingale: "Liz", I've always loved the name you chose for me. Don't leave me and bear everything on your own. We made a promise to get through this together—

Shining saw Nightingale's eyes and Nightingale's smile.

When Shining came back to her senses, the hand had quietly slipped from her sleeve.

Confessarius: A tragedy, but the ending is always fixed. Either you kill me and become the breeding ground for the next bloodline, or you watch me take her away and then drown in your regret. It’s all the same, sister. Quesasina, the consciousness of the cage has awakened. If you continue to keep her by your side, she will only evaporate and die like dewdrops in the morning.

Shining: …

Confessarius: I will take her away, I will help you maintain it, I will help you make up for it—I will mold the cage into a crown. Then, you will be, we will be… the eternal devil.

In the end, Confessarius ended up kidnapping Liz.

Kal'tsit: Operator Nightingale is a member of Rhodes Island's Medical Department, and we will not allow her to be kidnapped or harmed. But any rash move may put her in greater danger. After all, the opponent we need to face… is an immortal "Demon King" who has coveted the crown for thousands of years. Quesatushta. He who knocks on the door is he who usurps the king. I was aware of the threat of the Confessarii, even during the Tower of Babel period, and several attempts were made in vain. Theresis concealed them so well that people thought they were only the regent's bodyguards.

Shining: … Please don't worry, I know what we have to do.

Ascalon: You are calmer than I thought. What are you planning?

Shining: Liz… made her own choice. It's a choice that even I would never dare to think of. It is bold and aggressive, but it is the most effective. It seems that I'm always the one who's afraid of failure and dying… What I want to do, ha. It is to catch up with her.

#dltext #anonymous #arknights #shining #nightingale #dl talks ak #IT'S ALL SO MUCH #MY BABIES ARE GETTING SO MUCH RELEVANCE #BUT AT WHAT COST #SHININGALE FANS WHERE YOU AT

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anxiety-elemental-kay · 2 months

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And Take Away Its Pain: A Comparison of Masculinity, Trauma, and Queerness in Warcraft and Warframe

First, I want to shout out my friend Silriven at BluSky. (If any of you are mean to her I will Find You.) This thread she wrote recently reflecting on if/how she still likes Anduin as a character was what got me started writing this essay. She talks about the fandom response to Anduin, and the ways both the fandom and writers contradict themselves in discussing the character. The reason I wrote this essay is because I can think of another character and video game that work as a counterpoint to the way Anduin is portrayed.

Even before this specific thread, I made made a thread on BluSky comparing Warcraft and Warframe much earlier because both these games had major update reveals at around the same time. Not only that, but their content served as an interesting contrast between the different games' stories, and my own reactions to each.

The War Within[1] trailer and related announcements were revealed at Blizzcon 2023, around the same time as Digital Extremes, the developers of Warframe, held Tennocon 2023, which included a thirty minute demo of their next major story update, Whispers in the Walls.

For those unfamiliar with either/or World of Warcraft and Warframe, I’ll give a quick summary of the trailers.

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In TWW trailer trailer we see Anduin Wrynn sitting by himself in a desert. Anduin is a character the players have known for a long time, and last time we saw him he chose to disappear in response to a trauma he suffered in that expansion’s story. Here his face is dirty, he’s grown out a beard, and his hair is cut short. He has a vision of something that looks like a star calling his name. A second character appears, an orc named Thrall. The two talk; Thrall is calm while Anduin is angry and confrontational. They discuss the visions they’ve been having, how someone at “the heart of the world” is calling out to them. (Anybody who’s kept up with Warcaft's story even a little bit will know this voice is the Titan Azeroth, who lives inside the planet Azeroth.) When Thrall touches Anduin’s shoulder, Anduin has a brief flashback to when the ghost of his father touched his shoulder. Anduin draws his sword and declares “I’m not that person anymore! I have no Light! Not after what I’ve seen, not after what I’ve done!” Thrall replies “You are not your past, Anduin” and expresses his trust in Anduin, who struggles to not cry, and lowers his sword. Both of them experience a much stronger vision of the star calling for them, then Anduin accepts Thrall’s hand, and Anduin pledges to stand with him. They both express confusion at who could be calling out to them. (It’s Azeroth you dinguses!!!) The trailer ends with a cool shot of a giant sword sticking out of the desert, before switching to The War Within expansion logo.

Now, the Whispers In The Walls showcase was a full demo including gameplay, but to keep the comparison as fair as possible, I only talk about the opening three minutes [2]. You can see the whole showcase here.

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In the Whispers preview, we open with a cutscene. We start with some spooky eldritch speech, then we shift to someone the player will have heard of before, but never seen, Albrecht Entrati. Albrecht checks a beeping pager, and then an old computer, both out of place against the stylized sci-fi future setting of Warframe. He is followed by his feline companion. He gives his cat some pats, then he sits in a sci-fi casket, where his kitty also curls up. A second character, who we’ll learn later is named Loid, approaches Albrecht with his head bowed and eyes on the floor. Albrecht reaches up to Loid to touch his cheek, and wipes away a tear with his thumb. (Remember this moment, it's important for a point I'll make near the end of this essay.) Albrecht's dialogue is subtitled as (Quiet whispering). Then Albrecht lays down, and the casket closes. Loid raises a hammer as the casket makes loud sounds and lights flash, before he finally brings the hammer down to smash the casket. The screen cuts to black, then the gameplay starts.

Comparing these two teasers at the time, I thought about how Whispers was much more effective at building a story hook by creating mystery. Even if I limit myself to that opening cinematic, we have one character, Albrecht, who we’ve heard a great deal about and is important to the story, but we’ve yet to meet him in-person. The contrast of his 90’s tech and fashion against the more fantastical technology common to Warframe’s universe is stark and creates interesting questions. We’re introduced to this relationship Albrecht has with Loid. I don’t know who these people are or what their circumstances are, but I see genuine love and conflict. I’m already invested in learning more and seeing what happens to them. It’s a great hook! I actually rewatched that opening three minutes a few times while writing this because I have brainworms!

The TWW trailer is about creating a hook based on seeing where beloved characters are now, seeing what’s become of them when the player wasn’t looking. Azeroth the Titan is speaking to the main cast, which is clear to the audience familiar with the game but not the characters for unclear reasons. Anduin is still suffering, unable or unwilling to heal from his trauma. Thrall wants to him to come out of hiding. Anduin agrees to. That’s it. What’s the story hook here? Anduin seems to have gone nowhere in the years since he was last seen, and I have no sense of where his story (or Thrall’s, or Azeroth’s) might be going. I don't even know why Anduin changes his mind and chooses to help Thrall. What, just because there's another big threat to the world? The last one wasn't enough to bring you out of hiding? It’s just stuff happening, a general sense of vague Peril. I can't even get that excited about the shot of Sargeras' sword! Blizz should've thought to address that earlier, like, when the planet got stabbed! That was cool and exciting! Our planet got stabbed by Warcraft Satan! Then it's ignored for years until now, after people kept asking what was going to happen to it. The trailer tries to build a mystery about where the visions are coming from, but it's the Titan Azeroth, the players figured it out right away, there's no mystery. I don't have any reason to feel like the writers care about the story, setting, or characters. I’m left feeling nothing for any of it but a vague sense of disappointment.

Even more, the TWW trailer feels like it’s deliberately avoiding adding any details. Anduin talks about how he’s lost his Light, how he’s “not that person anymore” which is not a bad way to take his arc, but I can’t connect it to when Anduin was enslaved by the Jailer in Shadowlands. I know where his trauma comes from, but the trailer makes no effort to explain or expand on how those specific events affected him. I’m not even going to explain what any of that means to people unfamiliar with Warcraft because it doesn’t matter! In both dialogue and in visuals, the trailer gives little texture or meaning to what Anduin is feeling. In the Whispers trailer, I know Loid is sad, not just because Albrecht is leaving, but that he has to have a role in that departure. I don't know what happened to Albrecht at this point, but the emotional hook is there along with the questions about the story. I care because I believe these two characters are in love. Why should I care that Anduin feels he's lost his Light? I have no sense of what this loss means or feels like. I have no sense of what he's struggling with, or what he might face in the future.

Since those trailers were released, Warframe had its promised Whispers update, and I’ve played the full quest and leveled up the linked faction, which contained more story. While I know I’m being unfair comparing a trailer to a full release, I will continue to do so anyway because 1) I’m a bitter old faggot, and 2) the full story of Whispers makes the comparison between Loid/Whispers as a whole and Anduin/TWW even more interesting/saddening.

This is your warning that I’ll be spoiling the quest Whispers In The Walls. Eventually. I've got some foundation I want to lay first.

I found a tweet thread by Christie Golden, one of Warcraft’s major writers. She links a TIME article about a woman struggling to raise her son to be gentle and kind in a world that encourages anger and violence in men. Golden lists Anduin (among others) as an example of nontoxic masculinity in fictional media. In her replies she goes on to expand on her thoughts.

Here’s the tweet by Golden that stuck out to me: “Too often men and boys who gravitate to the gentler side are automatically perceived as being gay, whether they are or not. ALL men/boys should be able to display these qualities, just like all girls/women can be tough and fearless and athletic if that's who they are.”

What’s wrong with being perceived as gay, Golden?

To be fair, there is a point here about assuming someone’s sexuality based on their personality or behavior. That is nonsense, and assigning traits to someone based on an observer’s opinion isn’t good. I even agree that not all straight characters should be one thing and all gay characters should be another! The problem with Golden’s statement is the implicit bias, being “automatically perceived as being gay” is framed as something bad. Why shouldn’t straight men and boys look up to a gay character? Can they not see themselves in a queer character? Why?

This is another reason why the comparison between TWW and Whispers is so interesting, because Whispers is gay. Sure, there are people who will argue Loid and Albrecht weren’t in love, because no one explicitly says they were together, but if you’re paying attention that’s unneeded. Loid refers to Albrecht as “my Albrecht”, and later, in a diary entry, we hear Albrecht refer to Loid as “my Loid”. There's a moment in the quest where we watch a recording of Albrecht, and he says, “I need Loid to understand why I had to leave. Without him. Why I forced him to destroy the device after I had gone. And why I could never say the words he so needed to hear.”

If you listen to the codex entry “Albrecht’s Notes: The Aftermath” about what he went through after coming back injured from the Void, you get even more. Albrecht describes Loid as “crooning motherly” and how “Loid nursed me then” back to full health. His descriptions, and the voice acting, are entirely earnest. There is no sarcasm or veiled disdain as he describes Loid in these feminine terms. The affection Albrecht both received, and gave, was genuine.

“The agony bit deep, but it was clean. Blameless love bled up from me.

I had decided to live.”

Yes, yes, this section is partly for me to be snappy at the people in the Warframe community who insist Loid and Albrecht aren’t a couple. What I want to demonstrate here is mechanically how Warframe tells its audience these characters are in love without needing to spell it out. Why it’s reasonable (and valid) to interpret characters as queer even if they don’t list their labels on their bios, so to speak.

To bring this back to the character of Anduin Wrynn: while he’s never been officially portrayed as queer, his story, at least in its earliest years, very much was.

Though we don't see much of Anduin in-game early in Warcraft's life, his first story plays out in the supplementary comics and novels. There’s a conflict between who Anduin feels he is and who he is expected to be. He’s expected to become a warrior like his father, Varian, but Anduin finds wielding weapons difficult. He's unable to reach Varian's standards for who he should be. Instead, Anduin chooses to become a healer, in Warcraft terms he chooses the priest class, and focuses on spellcasting and support. At one point, as Anduin is about to leave home to go and train in healing magic, Varian reaches out and nearly breaks his son's arm in his attempt to force him to stay. Varian is horrified at what he's done, and Anduin leaves.

Anduin's story is literally about rejecting the traditional masculinity his father represents to pursue his own, alternative path. We see how the life Varian's lived, a warrior's life full of violence, has poisoned his relationship with his son, how his toxic masculinity was a destructive force. Varian’s story in parallel is learning to accept Anduin’s choice, and learning to understand that his son is still powerful and capable, even if he’s not “strong” in the way Varian himself is. In addition, Anduin is one of the few characters who objects to the war(craft) between the two player factions and wants to find peace between them. Anduin’s story was, in theme if not in content, very much a queer narrative! It's about challenging tradition and finding a path that's more true to who he is and what he believes in.

This was why I connected with the character of Anduin initially. I started playing Warcraft in late Wrath of the Lich King, after ICC came out. When I first met Anduin he had a default human child model, and he said and did basically nothing. Then Cataclysm was released, he got his own teenager model, and a whole questline to himself. Suddenly he was someone with agency, wants, and personality! And then Mists of Pandaria came out and Anduin got to be a major focus of an entire expansion!

Anduin was absent from the next expansion, but the one after, Legion, Anduin returned with an adult model, and his father dies during the story's prologue. While he didn’t get the same focus he did in Mists, in Legion Anduin still had a whole storyline about becoming king, accepting his new role, and making peace with his father's death. It's smaller than his role in Mists, but it's a storyline I enjoyed!

I’ve literally watched this character grow up in real time. It’s a powerful experience!

(Side note: there’s a lot that can be said about Anduin as a monarch, what kind of state head he is, how he treats his people, and is an aspect that largely goes unacknowledged in the canon story. I'll shout out Silriven again, this is a topic she's gone a good job of discussing before. I want to acknowledge this part of his character, but I consider it beyond the scope of this specific essay. I do think making him king, making him someone who extracts taxes and sends people to die in war, does have a major impact on his character, his masculinity, and how he processes trauma. However, talking about monarchy, even a fictional one, is its own topic and needs its own space to explore. It's something to keep in mind whenever discussing any major character in Warcraft who is also a major political leader.)

Through all this I would say I saw Anduin as queer. At no point does he express serious romantic interest in anyone, nor does he appear to be under any pressure to find a partner through either societal or political norms. The themes of his stories made me think he was gay, especially as the only other character he grows close to is another boy. Anduin was a comfort character for me.

This began to change in the expansion after Legion, Battle for Azeroth.

Anduin begins to wear a set of plate armor, looking more like his warrior father, and the role he once rejected, than the priest he chose to be. He leads his armies in a war that he used to be wholly against, a contradiction he never fully confronts. When he punches Wrathion, a childhood friend who reappeared in the last expansion patch, players responded with praise in real life. “Manduin” punched Wrathion, who Anduin claimed was responsible for his father’s death. Which he wasn’t, and can only be seen as responsible through a Five Degrees of Kevin Bacon type web. I'm not sure why Anduin says this, unless the writers wanted to either smear Wrathion or erase the history of friendship the two had previously. Or, maybe they didn't want to bring up any legitimate reasons Anduin might be angry at Wrathion, like abandoning him. If I had a nickel every time one person abandoned another to go on an ill-fated time travel adventure, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't much but it's weird it happened twice.

(Here's a tangent: Imagine if Albrecht ended up in alternate Draenor and/or Wrathion ended up in 1999. Those stories would've gone VERY differently.)

Since I’ve brought him up, it’s time to talk about Anduin and Wrathion.

This topic is. Divisive. In the Warcraft fandom.

Wranduin, the ship name, is something that appeared in fandom mid Mists when the two characters first met. Anduin was curious about who this Wrathion person was and set out to investigate. Long story short, their families had a long history of conflict, and Anduin had every reason to be suspicious and mistrustful of Wrathion. Was openly mistrustful of Wrathion. They continue to hang out together through the rest of the expansion.

This all leads up to a particular moment in the novel War Crimes, taking place after the main events of Mists of Pandaria. Anduin and Wrathion continue to spend time with each other in that book, playing games and discussing politics. When Anduin expresses how tired he is, Wrathion declares “I shall, if asked politely, take you on my back and ferry you to fascinating places, where we will have adventures that will age your father ten years in one night.”

I've never read any of the books myself, but I’ve seen this passage passed around online and it stands out to me. It feels genuine, two teenagers who are close friends but also bad at vulnerability and Feelings, making a connection and finding comfort in each other. I’m not even asking anyone to see a romantic angle to this, just to understand the emotions of the moment. It feels specific to them.

I was in the Warcraft fandom during Mists, I thought their relationship was interesting, and it could make for an interesting romance. Despite ideological differences, they were very much kindred spirits. People born into power who’ve also suffered immense loss of agency. Both were forced to grow up quickly, had their lives endangered at young ages, and both want to protect the world they live in, even if that means different things to both of them. That tension, the clash between their ideals and their personalities, the potential for connection and division both, was what made their relationship so interesting.

Then Wrathion disappeared for several expansions, came back in BofA, and the first thing that happens is Anduin punches him in the face. We never see them in a scene together after this moment ends.

It's worth noting that while Wrathion isn't human (he's a dragon in disguise) his humanoid form makes him one of the very few non-white characters in the main cast. They reintroduce him by having a white man, who was once a friend, punch him in the face. This is an action Anduin has never apologized to Wrathion for.

There’s another Warframe character I want to talk about briefly: Ticker. She’s a trans woman.

She's been in the game much longer than Loid and Albrecht, but like them, her identity is never explicitly stated, but at the same time it's unambiguous. She has a deeper, more masculine voice, has a masculine appearance (Old Mate rank spoilers, but if you know you know) while her body language is very feminine and she uses exclusively feminine pronouns and terms for herself. One her voice lines when you speak with her is “A person gets told a lot of things over the course of a life. Who they are. Who they should be. Amateurs, lecturing a professional.”

She is a trans woman, she has some of the best lines in the game, and I love her.

My greatest disappointment with Ticker is that she isn’t involved in the greater storyline associated with her zone. We do meet other good characters (Eudico in particular is a lady character I adore) but Ticker’s exclusion sticks out to me. Sure, one could point to Smokefinger as also being largely absent, but Ticker’s role in the story is to help pay off people’s debts so they don’t suffer more than they have to. This is something she has to do in secret (to her boss’s boss, not to the player natch) or risk facing harsh punishment herself. This could tie directly into the area’s larger story about a workers' union violently revolting against its hyper-capitalist overlords. Why isn’t she in Vox Solaris DE??? By the way, the player sides with the union.

(Side note: Blizzard is an American studio, while Digital Extremes is Canadian. I can feel a potential discussion of these two countries, labor unions, and these two games, but like the point about monarchy in Warcraft, that needs its own space. There's definitely things to talk about, but I'd need to do real research before I could begin to approach it.)

So looking at Ticker, then looking at Whispers, this update shows growth to me. Warframe is showing two men in love[3], both characters and their identities are treated with respect by the narrative and other characters. Yes, this isn’t the same as depicting a canonical trans woman, but I’m inclined to be patient and kind when I sense that creator(s) are earnest about portraying experiences that aren’t theirs. We all have internal biases we need to uproot, it’s a journey that will last our whole lives, and one that will inevitably end incomplete. We can all and always learn to improve our art, as well as our compassion and understanding of other people. For me, forgiveness for earlier depictions that were poor or problematic is easy when I believe the creator(s) are making a sincere effort. We all make mistakes, and we all grow. Hopefully DE will add another canonical trans person to their game who will have a bigger role.

I’m hammering this point home because I have never felt this level of sincere effort from Blizzard.

I know I’m comparing an middle-ish game studio to a massive AAA company, and I do not care. Whether it’s because of the writers’ cowardice or a producer’s mandate, Warcraft takes only small steps to be inclusive, while Warframe is genuinely trying. (DE also updated skin shaders specifically so darker tones would look nicer in their new lighting system!) It's things like this that make Golden's talk about Anduin being an example of nontoxic masculinity ring hollow. Only one of these games seems willing to engage with marginalized stories, with people who live outside of the strict roles we're assigned. The concept of "nontoxic masculinity" cannot exist if one is unwilling to engage with queerness. Allowing men to embrace more gentle behaviors also means not shaming anyone for being gay. Allowing men to do and be things that aren't the pinnacle of traditional masculinity means understanding and embracing that men can and will engage in more feminine behaviors or roles, and this doesn't diminish their gender identity. These concepts are linked.

(I know this is a very binary way of framing these concepts, but let me tell you, Blizz is NOT ready for that discussion.)

Warcraft has added gay characters or made some existing characters gay, but never anybody in the main cast, nothing that would get a major spotlight. Anduin could’ve been an easy solve for this, whether he started a relationship with Wrathion or someone else, it doesn’t matter! Having a major character in a game as large as World of Warcraft would've meant so much. Instead they hide their queer characters in secondary roles, in supplementary media, and made them into easter eggs in the game. Never major characters, never the focus of the story. Nothing they would, for example, show off at a major convention in 2023.

Moving away from talking about queerness for a moment, something that struck me watching the Whispers demo again is that DE isn't afraid to make their new character flawed. I don't want to say unlikable necessarily, because I did like Loid right away, but he's also rude to the established character traveling with us ("Resume your duties, construct!) and then dismissive of the player. He's supposed to wait for an "operator" to arrive at the labs, and thinks it's obviously not the player. By the end of the quest (which I'll talk about in a moment because yes it's relevant) Loid comes to accept that the player is the one he's meant to work with. When you level up the related faction in the full release, Loid eventually tells the player that his role was to care for Albrecht, and it would be his honor to extend that same service to the player. This arc is sweet and feels earned because Loid started so abrasive, the writers weren't afraid to make him abrasive, and even by the end I wouldn't say he's flawless. In fact, in the next update, Dante Unbound, DE has hinted that Loid will have to confront the established character he was rude to in Whispers. Loid feels like a person who's going through shit, in the way that people go through shit. Not with grace, but trying his best anyway.

I bring this up because one of the long standing issues with Anduin as a character, which has gotten worse as time goes on, is the unwillingness to give Anduin flaws. I wonder if this connects back to the point about the lack of specificity about his feelings or experiences in TWW trailer, why Thrall's simple "You are not your past" feels so strange, and why the trailer seems reluctant to acknowledge Anduin's anger as a problem. Anduin has, for a while, been positioned as a moral core for the game, the character who is primarily interested in peace for unselfish reasons. Part of the reason I enjoyed Anduin as a character in Mists was because, sometimes, he got to act like a shitty teenager. He'd be sarcastic or smarmy or do something objectively dumb, like run off to fight a major enemy of his nation on his own. This is especially true when interacting with Wrathion, which includes Anduin using the taunt "You're what, two years old?" To which Wrathion replies "Two in DRAGON years." It's very endearing! Look at these brats, they're believable teenage friends to me. Yes, Anduin is one of the few peace-seekers in the story, he tries so hard to be good and kind even to his enemies, but in moments like these he still feels like a person.

We could look at TWW and say Anduin is demonstrating anger issues, which would be interesting because, like in the example of almost breaking Anduin's arm, this was something Varian struggled with. Except it doesn't feel like the trailer recognizes this as a flaw. The moment goes by and is quickly forgotten. I can look at Loid in Whispers and I recognize where his bitterness comes from: he felt abandoned and so pushes others away. The one detail I did like in TWW trailer was the comparison between Thrall touching Anduin's shoulder, and Varian's ghost doing the same in the past. That moment felt like a trigger for Anduin, reminding him of that moment when he was so vulnerable, but also of his grief for his father. (Nevermind we had that story in Legion about Anduin coming to terms with his grief. Let's ignore that.) It's the most sincere moment of the trailer, but it doesn't follow through! As soon as the second vision dissipates, Anduin takes Thrall's hand and pledges to help. Why? Again, "because there's another big cosmic threat" isn't a good enough reason. What does he feel in this moment? Why did he change his mind now?

Nontoxic masculinity doesn't mean "flawless person". I would still say Loid is a good example of nontoxic masculinity, regardless of if or when he does engage in more toxic behaviors. I'd say as a character Loid is a better demonstration than Anduin of nontoxic masculinity because he's capable of self-reflection, realizing he did something bad, and correcting himself. One interpretation of events in the story of Whispers (because much of Warframe is open to interpretation) is that the local eldritch horror was feeding off of Loid's resentment towards Albrecht, and this was fueling its assault on the labs. Only in reminding Loid of Albrecht's feelings for him, specifically in a way Loid had been deliberately avoiding, can the player begin to take down the bad guy of the quest.

This is a great time to move to my last point about Whispers’ full story: the ending.

I know we can talk about ludonarrative dissonance about two games where the player regularly enacts mass murder and trying to square that with certain story themes. Listen. Hear me out.

In Warcraft, the solution to the final boss is always kill them. (Or arrest them in the case of Garrosh in Mists. In truth this was only a stay of execution). Part of this is the limit of always putting an expansion’s conclusion in a raid. There always needs to be a big fight in a specific kind of setting with specific player expectations. I wish Blizz played with this more; maybe we can only seal away the bad thing? Or maybe the goal is to hold something off while an NPC does a magical ritual that saves the day by some other method? I’m sure there are possible, creative solutions other than “hit bad guy (or his toes if he’s big) until bad guy falls over”.

How does the player save the day in Whispers in the Walls? I’m going to cover this in detail because it’s one of my favorite moments in the whole game.

You spend much of the quest fighting off The Murmur, constructs summoned by the local eldritch horror, called the Indifference (among many other names[4]) which is trying to break into the labs the quest takes place in. The final encounter, the story's climax, has the Indifference possesses a Vessel, one of many unfinished biomechanical giants Albrecht created and left scattered around his lab. The evil Vessel moves in to attack the player, who then possesses a Vessel themself.

The player’s Vessel holds up a hand, and we see a button prompt.

I'm stealing a point from another Tumblr user because it's great. Go read their post and the replies if you're curious about this particular moment!

This button prompt isn’t unusual. There aren’t many quick time events in Warframe, they're not a part of regular run and gun gameplay, but they do appear. If you’re like me, you’ve gone into the accessibility options and toggled button mashing off because wrists hurt. This prompt isn’t unusual to see for me.

But if you didn't use that accessibility toggle, you'll still get this specific prompt. It will be unusual that you're being asked to hold to interact with the scene, rather than the usual smash a button to make thing happen.

So you hold the button, the player’s Vessel reaches out, and when I first played I got excited because I think I’m powering up a big blast to destroy the enemy Vessel!

Then this happens:

youtube

I encourage everyone who can to watch the video for the full effect, but I’ll still describe it here:

The background music is ominous, and as you hold the button there's a heartbeat sound. The player's Vessel slowly reaches toward the enemy Vessel. When then the prompt button disappears, the scene goes quiet. The player Vessel gently holds the enemy Vessel's face, mirroring how Albrecht did to Loid at the beginning of the quest. As the music changes to a calming vocal track, we see the enemy Vessel's face change, drop from aggressive to lonely longing. The camera backs away as the two Vessels slow to a stop, posed to echo that "memory of love". The camera switches to Loid, who holds a hand to his own cheek, then looks back at the Vessels. He understands the connection too.

This kind of thing isn’t unheard of for Warframe either! I'll keep additional spoilers to a minimum, but a previous main story quest, The Sacrifice, has similar themes. In fact, my favorite moment from that quest involves a monologue by a major villain about how he is literally unable to comprehend the idea of empathy or compassion. He doesn’t understand why the player character, in a moment of vulnerability and understanding, is able to do what he couldn’t, with all of his violence and brutality.

“And it was not their force of will - not their Void devilry - not their alien darkness. It was something else. It was that somehow, from within the derelict-horror, they had learned a way to see inside an ugly, broken thing —

— and take away its pain.” [5]

In a story where the primary antagonist is a mysterious entity called “The Indifference” we don’t defeat it with force. With hate. What’s the opposite of Indifference?

It’s old man yaoi love. We defeat Indifference with love.

I don’t feel like I was cheated out of a cool moment. I suspect some people did. It’s not like Whispers didn’t have cool moments! I’m not even going to argue that this moment was uncool, just that it brought up different and unexpected emotions in me! It was an interesting and affecting twist on how we expect these encounters to go. It’s moments like these that tell me that Warframe's writers, for all their flaws, are putting genuine thought and emotion into their game. They’re thinking about characters and themes, trying to follow them through even with the scattershot way that video game design demands writers work.

Writing this description reminds me of a moment in Shadowlands, the expansion that traumatized Anduin. It takes place in (surprise!) the Shadowlands, the afterlife of Warcraft’s universe. Thrall, the second character we see in the TWW trailer, meets his mother in Shadowlands. She died when he was a baby, and now that he meets her in these weird circumstances, they begin to create the bond they couldn’t have before. In particular I found this conversation they have touching. A mother who didn't get to know her son, and a son who never knew his mother, finally get to connect. “I knew who you were the moment I saw you,” Draka tells him, “Do you really think I would not recognize Durotan's eyes?"

“Come, I wish to know more of your life, all of it,” she says to him, sounding tired.

youtube

It’s such a sweet moment, and bonus points for focusing on Draka, a woman who was functionally fridged prior, who now gets to be a character with personality and (some) agency in Shadowlands. It’s such a perfect demonstration of everything that could’ve been interesting in Shadowlands, what was and is interesting in Warcraft’s story, and what’s so often set aside or overlooked. Can they continue to have a relationship when the current conflict is over? Questions like this are interesting, but Shadowlands doesn’t engage with them at all, and it's poorer for it.

In Warcraft, trauma is aesthetic. Pain is aesthetic. It doesn’t matter what caused Anduin’s suffering in TWW trailer, all that’s important is that we know he’s suffering. We know he's important because he’s a main character and he’s sad about something. But, like, not sad in a way that would make him cry. That part is critical because we all know boys don't cry, right? That bias feels implicit in much of Warcraft's emotional moments. How much more touching would Thrall and Draka's reunion be if Thrall was allowed to cry at finally getting to meet his mom?

Loid does cry, at the beginning of Whispers' quest and during the story of the faction associated with the update. His emotions, and thus his story, feel more genuine and engaging for allowing him that vulnerability.

Warframe wants to engage with specific traumas, how they can make us bitter towards others, perpetuate our own and others’ pain. The point of pain is to understand it, because in understanding, that pain can be taken away. Warcraft has no interest in taking away pain, and it has no interest in understanding it. It’s not about emotional connection, because that requires a vulnerability and a capacity to self-reflect that Warcraft has no interest or courage to engage with. Pain is aesthetic.

Whispers is setting up a longer story arc for Warframe. At the time Whispers was revealed, Warframe was celebrating its 10th anniversary, and the previous main story quest wrapped up the storyline the game told from its release. In this way, Whispers is again an interesting comparison to Warcraft’s The War Within. TWW is also meant to be the start of a new story arc that will last several expansions. I know which story I’m excited about, and which one I feel nothing for.

Loid was a character I met for the first time last year, he immediately felt like a person, and I was emotionally invested. As a player I so badly want Albrecht to finally say the words Loid needed to hear. Anduin Wrynn is someone I’ve known for years, but is now a cardboard cutout. I don't feel compelled to follow his story because... what could it be? Warcraft doesn't seem interested in any conclusion or goal for him. He just is.

I have a lot of complicated emotions about World of Warcraft, as a game and as an influential piece of media. I played the game for many years, and it was an important part of my life. In many ways I’d say it's still a part of me, even after I stopped playing the game itself. Part of writing this essay was following up on some thoughts I shared with friends on BluSky, but part of it feels like exorcising a demon, or bleeding out poison. Part of me grieves for Warcraft, what it meant to me and what I thought it could have been. In Warframe though, I've found a place of comfort and compassion. In between all the space ninja nonsense and vast quantities of horrific violence the player commits, Warframe offers growth, and a way to let go of what hurts us.

—

I'll take a moment and shout out an excellent video essay by Shaun on Youtube called Andrew Tate: How to be a Real Man. It's a great resource for a more general discussion of masculinity in the real world. The video is a criticism of Tate and his approach, why it appeals to some men, and further dissects what masculinity means, and what nontoxic masculinity means. (Is it an inbox full of pictures of Aragorn?) It's a good dissection of masculinity as a concept, and one I'd recommend if you're curious about the topic of toxic/nontoxic or negative/positive masculinity.

—

Yes not only do I have my paragraph long asides I've now also added footnotes. This isn't a peer reviewed journal, you're not my mom, I do what I want!

[1] One of Warframe’s major quests is also called “The War Within” which might be confusing to a reader who knows Warframe. Don’t worry about it, I’m talking exclusively about the upcoming Warcraft expansion here.

[2] For bonus points, if you haven't played Warframe, go to 20:55 on the demo video. You'll see a logo and release date for Whispers In The Walls, hear the live crowd cheer, and the creative director will start to speak... until she's interrupted by something in the game. What you see and hear next is almost exactly as it is in the final release, including the music, minus an extra line of exposition from Loid. This wasn't just a stunt for the convention. I fucking LOVE Warframe.

[3] To be honest this is part of a personal measurement I use to gauge how queer friendly a work is: if they have queer women do they also have queer men? A good example of why I use this is Mass Effect. That franchise always had queer women and an option for lesbian romance, but only in Mass Effect 3 did they add one (1) queer option for a masculine Shepherd. I am a (nonbinary) lesbian so on the one hand I don’t want to dismiss all queer women in media as “pandering” and queer men as “valid”. It’s more of a guideline to estimate how willing a piece of media/creator is to transgress heterosexual norms. Depicting men who love men is seen as more transgressive than two women in love by the gaming community at large. The reasons for this are complicated and they all suck.

[4] hey kiddo

[5] I wanted to avoid spoilers for other Warframe story quests, but The Sacrifice is, again, an interesting point of comparison for Anduin's story. The Sacrifice is, largely, about a character coming to terms with his grief over the death of his son. If you see the whole video I link there, you'll see the player presented with three options: Wrath (We use this memory. It fuels our wrath), Acceptance (We accept this memory and move beyond its reach), and Emptiness (We return this memory to the Void and find peace in our emptiness.) I just wish Anduin's grief over Varian was, at any point, treated with this level of nuance and care.

#kay writes things #warframe #warcraft #anduin wrynn #loid #i'm a little hesitant to tag this #since i could get some real negative attention based on what i've discussed #and the nastier parts of both fandoms #whatever i wrote thousands of words i'll share it #for me and my friends and i guess the rest of you can read it too

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gale-gentlepenguin · 6 months

Text

Gale Reviews: Miraculous World Paris: Tales of Shadybug and Claw Noir

Spoilers below

-OH S*** NEW THEME SONG AND WHY DOES IT KIND OF SLAP

(The image of Gabriel's life. Damn)

-Gabriel is a good guy and working with his version of the Resistance. DAMN

-NINO! RUN BABY BOY RUN

-Kamiko? so that is the good version of akuma?!

-Ubiquity is the Kamiko's name. Okay neat

-BETTERFLY! THAT GOOD!HAWKMOTH'S NAME. IM DEAD

-And the villains just arrived

-Damn this is going hard.

-Love the Miraculous world intro

-And back to our world

-Okay so this is taking place AFTER destruction, since the miraculous are not rings yet

-Gabriel almost went into his son's room. almost. Adrien processing a long day (likely the fact that he CATACLYSMED SOMEONE) This would make for a good au later

-Could we be getting ADRIEN CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT! -Adrien having legit concerns over his power that actually makes sense? Good to see

-Plagg doing his best to help Adrien cope.

-Alyanette is good as usual

-tikki no!

-Cute little Tom Sabine moment. (LUCKY TOM)

-Alya's in pain (cause of the oh no)

-Seriously this all happened in the span of one night!

-Betterfly arrives,

-Also, seems the Kamiko in this case can impact MULTIPLE version. At least in alya's case

-That costume is dope

-Betterfly not knowing in this world HE'S the asshole

-Also Betterfly's design isnt bad. I accept it. Still weird cause its gabe tho

-THEY KILLED MAX? WAIT IS MAX THE AI. I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS

-OH NO CLAW NOIR AND SHADYBUG SLAY

-Nice to know Alynino is canon in that verse

-Shadyclaw arguements.

-Shadybug hates Adrien in this world

-Clawnoir loves being destructive, a nice contrast to adrien's current dilemma

-Alya covering for marinette like always

-Oh right, her phone is broken

-Smart move

-GASP THE LUCKY CHARMS ARENT ALL WEAPONS!

-Shadybug and Clawnoir should make out (the tension is so thick you can cut it with a knife) they are constantly arguing and its great

-CATACLYSM CAN GET BIG!!! OH F*** THATS SO COOL! (Adrien/Chat noir be holding back by a f*** ton)

-Tikki just sitting on this knowledge. BILLIONS OF UNIVERSE. (welp that is only half the amount of au's and what ifs I made lol)

-Tikki demonstrating what its like being a nigh omnipotent deity. (this is the first time outside of seeing their true forms did I feel this)

-The Supreme? Wait, the logos at the begining. Does that mean? the order of guardians is actually evil? Or is it like an Evil Fu?!

-Wait, so it isnt just an adult thing, if you are evil you can multi-use the miraculous but at a cost. SEE THIS RIGHT HERE WOULD HAVE BEEN A BETTER SYSTEM THAN THE ADULT THING! WTF?!

-So Shadybug and Claw noir ARENT the big bads they are just... lackeys? That is kind of lame, but if they are going to get redeemed it does make sense

-Ladybug out here being funny

-Claw noir got numb-chucks

-SHE SUMMONED A CAR AND KICKED IT AT THEM!

-CHAT NOIR FOR THE SAVE!!!!

-CLAW NOIR JUST TOOK A CATACLYSM...

-(Me with Claw noir right now)

-Chat noir making solid points right now

-Villains really do get all the cool s***

-OH S*** KAMIKO CHAT NOIR

-Damn so akumatization can be like in the blink of an eye. time slows down conveniently.

-Celesticat?!

-OMG ITS AN ANGEL CHAT BLANC (Marinette's ptsd should be kicking in now)

-The puns were great, and by by shadybug

-Claw noir litterally pretended to try and catch her then let her fall. Thats hilarious

-He was going to take her miraculous, that is amazing. They really hate eachother. She broke his finger lol

-Gabriel venting to his dead wife again

-Oh no, he is going to cataclysm the villains

-"As black as my heart?" Dude you are WAY underselling how evil you are

-The Supreme spares? So basically they are forced to do this or they perish. I see

-I love their arguements

-They went back to search the room, Alya really going through it now

-The Supreme, it must be Evil fu.

-Oh this is interesting, Gabriel was evil but turned it around after seeing the consequences of his actions.

-Shadybug found Ladybug's diary. Oh snap, she sees she was friends with Alya!

-Claw noir playing with dolls

-She read the diary and is like "That buffoon? REALLY ALTERNATE ME?!"

-Oh wow, Gabriel that is good is actually a better mentor then su han. (a low bar but still)

-Reminder that Plagg can be that insightful and also just as omnipotent as Tikki

-Adrien figuring it out

-The diary is cheesy for exposition, BUT shadybug's reaction to it is actually sweet. Marinette in any universe wants friends and to care for others. (my headcanon is that this is shadybug summarizing what her alternate self is thinking/writing)

-SHE FOUND OUT ABOUT THE WISH POWERS! OF S***

-shadybug going to double cross her Claw noir

-SHADYBUG GOT HIM!

-and she found out he's adrien.

-Emo!Adrien lol

-PLAGG IS GAGGED! The supreme is really evil

-Alya trying to get sabine's phone

-OHHH, he is wearing make up because of the effects of over using the miraculous! Damn thats a nice touch

-Emo!Adrien recognizes Emo!Mari

-Also Gorilla in white is so weird to me

-WAS EMO!ADRIEN SIMPING FOR EMO GIRL! THIS IS AMAZING

-This IS AMAZING

-Ironic that this is how we get the reveal.

-She can wish to swap places! oh s*** that is a hell of a plot twist!

-Wait something is wrong, that logo... Can they not use the wish?

-"Only The supreme defines reality." DUDE! DUDE!!!!!!!! The supreme is officially the most competent villain in miraculous.

-Marinette realizing she cant be an angsty bitch right now.

-Seems the miraculous is taking their toll on both of them. Damn this is dark and I love it

-Tikki blots on.

-Welp this is probably the best writing I have seen from ML in a while. I legit buy this saddness.

-Even Emo! Adrien is sympathetic and he hardly said anything as adrien

-Plagg Dagger's out

-They are both dying and desperate

-Monarch has shown up and he is up to no good

-And just like that Monarch shows why he is an unrepentant asshole.

-Oh look, Chat noir's nightvision is useful again. (It just took 5 seasons)

-MONARCH MADE THEM GIANTS! HOW DID HE EVEN!?

-I knew they werent akumatized,

-Alya being the MVP today

-Illusions, of course.

-I MISSED LADYNOIR SO F***ING MUCH (devours the ladynoir moment)

-Ladyfly looks really cool

-That is a brilliant plan

-The tactical brilliance

-Ladyfly was planning this

-Chat noir mocking Claw noir's puns is everything i needed in life

-Chat noir lost one of his ears

-AND countered, Nice try monarch. Nice akuma trick

-Took monarch long enough

-"There are no awesome girlfriends to inspire me every day" Rip to Shadybug

-Damn, Shadybug, that is a LOT to unpack there

-No matter the universe Chloé is always a bitch. (Theres the astruc stamp in the writing I expected. But honestly still a valid villain reason)

-This is pretty emotional

-Chat noir is playing Claw noir like a fiddle

-Claw noir is the adrien that never moved on from losing his mother. Yep, Like I have said, adrien has a valid reason to be evil

-A hero feels pain and wants to make sure no one else feels that way, a Villain feels pain and wants to hurt the thing that caused them pain

-"I dont want to be cringe." "Embrace the cringe"

-Adrien out here saving himself.

-Adrien talking about his friends because he DOES know them. THANK YOU. THIS IS WHAT I wanted.

-Shadybug, "I dont want to be cringe." Claw noir "It sounds cringe Im in"

-Shadybug fixed everything AND HER COSTUME CHANGED. I kind of love it

-THE COSTUME CAN BE ALTERED AT WILL.

-Claw noir's new design is officially my favorite. Chat noir iteration

-I think the good versions of shadybug and Claw noir might be my favorite costumes for them

-Okay so they going back now

-Also I just realize that these version actually KNOW the other's identities. yet their canon ones dont

-Monarch discovered the multiverse

-GASP! KAMIKO TIZED LADYBUG!

-My reaction

-Scarabella and Kitty noire universe

-Kitty noire's reaction is so lesbian

-ANIME UNIVERSE (this officially my favorite special)

-Comic book universe

-A Misterbug and Lady noir universe

-Betterfly being the mentor Ladybug and Chat noir really needed

-Omg the day is finally over

-You know one big plot hole is Monarch could have simply deakumatized Ladybug so she couldnt stop him but didnt. Cause he is an idiot

-And cute little alyanette

-LITTLE KISSES. Damn the Alyanette fandom is eating good tonight

______________________________________________________________

I stand by what I said, this is the best Miraculous world special done.

Honestly If I included it in my episode rankings this is easily a top 5 contender.

I now want a sequel in which Shadybug and Claw noir fight the supreme, because the Supreme sounds f***ing epic and evil.

Maybe season 6 plays into it. (That would be one hell of a season)

10/10 in terms of ML specials and episodes

It is a bit cheesy but I loved what I watched

#ml #miraculous ladybug #ml paris spoilers #ml paris #miraculous world #gale reviews

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