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“oh my god.”
“you called?” satoru popped up from around the corner, a grin on his face at his dumb joke.
“i can’t find the chocolates for trick or treating.” you say, frantically checking under the pillows of the couch. you swore you left the bowl on the dining table before you decided to check up on the decorations. the only other people who had been in here were—
your eyes flit to your husband and the little girl perched on his shoulders, who both started to stare at the ceiling like it was out of a very interesting museum.
“gojo.”
“she’s onto us!” your daughter whispered to him.
“the child.”
“definitely on to you, papa!”
satoru’s gasp of betrayal was cut off by your sigh. “satoru, did you and yumi eat all the chocolates?”
“i don’t know why you would ever think that. does six years of marriage mean nothi—”
he paused as you open the locked pantry, casually pulling out a few hidden packs of candy. you raise a eyebrow at his words.
“six years of marriage has taught me that i live with two cheeky devils who need to leave right now if they don’t want to get leftover orange toothpaste for trick or treat.”
at the mention of the horrid flavoured paste, your daughter starting banging on satoru’s head, demanding to be put down. you chuckle as you turn around to cut the new pack of candy, satoru’s whines of your daughter pulling his hair filling the kitchen.
“oh and also, wipe the chocolate off your face before you leave. you look like a clown.”
you weren’t sure if satoru heard you but if he hadn’t, you supposed he would just have to deem it one of the punishments that came with a six year marriage. after all, he was the one who wanted to put a ring on it first.
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x reader#halloween#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk gojo#fluff#jjk fluff#idk what this is#nor do i wish to#vera’s.jjk.library.✎
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Writing Prompt #12
Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.
Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.
Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.
While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.
These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".
There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—
"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.
But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.
He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.
"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.
"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.
"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.
He doesn't look away from the man.
"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."
"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.
The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.
The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"
Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."
"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."
He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.
"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.
"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.
"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."
"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.
"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."
"Him."
"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."
"Why me?"
"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."
This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.
"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"
"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."
Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."
"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."
"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."
"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."
"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."
"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.
"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.
"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."
"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."
"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."
Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.
Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.
"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."
The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.
"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.
"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."
"I have more than one."
"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."
"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"
There is a pause.
"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."
"Resolve what?"
"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."
"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.
"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."
Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."
The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.
"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."
"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."
"They will have already muzzled him."
Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.
"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."
"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—
Clack!
"sluuuuurp!"
"Master Timothy, honestly!"
"Sorry Alfred!"
#i feel like I'm going to reread this and want to add other stuff#but I also just want to post it and get it out there#fun fact i scribbled a bunch of lines down at 2am bc i didn't want to forget them#im bad at multiple drafts#my writing#dp x dc#dp x dc au#dp x dc prompt#dp x dc crossover#danny phantom#batman#i live to make everybody dramatic#but also i subscribe to a world where clockwork doesn't know how NOT to be dramatic#lol he's a ghost from all of time he doesn't know how to speak to humans and tailor it to the century let alone the decade#and his favorite little girl who calls him clocky loves how he speaks so#he doesn't need to change for nobody#nor feels inclined to#also I feel like as god he's way more inclined to threaten to get what he wants than like...be vulnerable#jazz: let's unpack that#clockwork: we never do#jazz: are you saying that because it's true or because that's what you want to be true?#clockwork: ...#also I cannot take credit for BITCH I MIGHTWING#wish i could#that is cash money right there#shoutout to 11thsense
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sushi set 🍣
#this was inspired by the gloriously mid sushi i had before making this#that might have upset my stomach later but that's neither here nor there#anyway i looovvee sushiii nowadays. i'm craving it. i wish i could afford the good shit#omori#omori omori#aubrey omori#kel omori#mari omori#hero omori#basil omori#fan art#becki draws stuff n stuff
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thinking about this scene from the adventurer's bible from kabru's perspective...
#and even the fact that after a moment he just smiles and is like 'yeah laios youre so right' this guy is insane#this can probably be interpreted many ways#i personally am neither here nor there about that its for you lot to do what you wish#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#kabru dungeon meshi#kabru of utaya#laios touden#laios dungeon meshi#eek i love kabru so much you guys dont understand
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This is my contribution to society
I’ve always thought arial dancing was sick af like I wanna try it some day
#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#demon slayer art#artists on tumblr#giyuu tomioka#kny giyuu#kny tomioka#tomioka giyuu#demon slayer giyuu#kimetsu giyuu#demon slayer tomioka#mitsuri kanroji#demon slayer mitsuri#kimetsu mitsuri#kny mitsuri#she’s teaching him#…I just wanted to draw his ass ngl#TT I wish o could do arial#but I do not have the time nor money for classes#alas my poor soul
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nothing like a coffee made by a bisexual barista
#sorry i got to that scene where ianto is having owen make the coffee for the team#torchwood#ianto jones#owen harper#mine#on season 2 now#man i’m not ready to rewatch the third season nor this season final#jack harkness#toshiko sato#gwen cooper#man i wish i had that screencap of ianto staring in horror as owen fucks up the coffee#that’s what the teams says every morning when ianto brings them a cup#captain jack harkness#doctor who
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Hey anyone else remember the episode of Adventure Time called "Evergreen" where it's revealed that the original bearer of the crown to whom it was "forever linked" was actually a neglected child (and prior reincarnation of Finn) named Gunter trying to be like his wizard father?? Anyone??? Because I had fully forgotten until re-watching the episode last night and I'm losing my mind about the implications.
(This episode is also a devastating look at how a mistreated child unconsciously learns that he must treat himself and those he has power over as cruelly as he has been treated. Adventure Time has so much sadness and madness, y'all.)
#original#at#adventure time#Finn the Human#Evergreen Adventure Time#Gunter adventure time#simon petrikov#Evergreen the wizard makes the crown to stop the Lich comet against the advisement of every other Elemental#Evergreen looks a lot like the Ice King but the twist is that his servant / son Gunther ends up having to use the crown to stop the comet#but since the crown grants the user's truest wish and Gunter's wish is to be like Evergreen#instead of saving all life Gunter becomes a crazed parody of his cruel father and ostensibly dies moments later from the comet#so now whoever bears the crown is not linked back to Evergreen they are linked to a boy pretending to be Evergreen#they become a parody of a parody#and now it's happened again but Simon has the choice to be a better father than Evergreen#another Gunter has become a parody of his neglectful father.#although even Ice King was not as cruel as Evergreen. nor this Gunter as innocent. I'm excited for the next episode of fionna and cake#fionna and cake#also the gemstones are eyeballs stolen from a lava elephant that looks like tree trunks#tree trunks#I think there's a good chance that elephant is still alive and wants its eyes back#also the Thematic implications of the name Evergreen matter a lot to me
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just read this nice fic & they pointed out that Kitty's gatito blade is what she uses instead of claws, and so her giving it to Puss is a whole new level of trust
#i almost remember her using the gatito blade to cut/fall down some big tapestries#but i have neither the movie nor the skill to make gifs#kitty softpaws#puss in boots#puss in boots the last wish#fresh from the bog
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"Why do you like Sabo so much?"
It's the noble boy born into wealth recognizing his privilege and choosing to turn his back on an easy life to fight for those with nothing.
It's the man with disfiguring scars not letting his pain define him and how he lives.
It's the man who treasures the bonds forged by calloused hands and bloody knuckles more than anything in the world.
It's the man who decided not to forgive a family who abused, neglected, manipulated and used him just because they were family.
It's the man who wanted to experience the world so he could write stories about his adventures.
It's the man who craved freedom more than water, but when he was given a drop of that freedom, chose to forfeit it and chain himself to an army so that others may also one day be free.
It's the man who could have had everything easy but had everything hard instead, had everything he loved torn away from him, and still fights.
It's the man who has nightmares about his brother's death every single night but still manages to smile.
It's the man who hates himself but still gets up every morning.
It's the man who hurts but doesn't want anyone else to hurt.
It's the man willing to fall into despair and depravity to help end an 800 year long oppressive government.
It's the man who bloodies his hands and doesn't mind being labeled a monster so long as good can come of it.
It's the man who feels too much and not enough all at once.
It's the man who was offered water but instead ate dirt because what makes him so special?
It's the man who hurts. And hurts. And hurts. But he still moves forward. He still tries hard to do the right thing, even if it gets his hands dirty.
I love Sabo because I want to be that kind of person, the kind of person who isn't afraid of discomfort if it means standing up for people, because I was born with privilege and the only thing it's good for is using it to protect the underprivileged. I want to be the kind of person I can be proud of.
#one piece#sabo#revolutionary sabo#revolutionary army#chief of staff sabo#flame emperor sabo#i dont think im better than anyone else nor do i wish i was better than anyone else#i just want to be good enough for me
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personally i really dont like the theory about totk potentially being about seperating ganondorf from demises curse when its framed as in that gan was just an uwu innocent guy used as a literal puppet by .. just another one-note incarnation of evil™️
like, im all for a "good" ganondorf or him as an ally or something, but this just robs him of so much while adding nothing
the way demises "curse" is often spoken about in fandom is as if its a literal spell, magic he did in his last moments, i always interpret it as a warning, if they contiue this way they will have to battle someone akin to him again and again, there cant be life without death ect
he is a force of chaos and shadow in a world that wants only control and light, if the ones capable of shaping the world keep striving for a one sided one a force akin to him will rise again, to tip back the scale, they want it to be one sided, but all has to return to balance
the gods (in canon?) want a purely "good" world, but who decides what is good and what isnt? neither a purely "good" world nor a purely "evil" one is the correct one, its a battle of balance, both want to tip the scale in their favor, but it has to be balanced, so they fight again
(and even if the "good" people are in charge, will they discriminate against those they deem to be too different, will those suddendly be stapled as evil, as something that must be eradicated?)
its like ... they keep fighting a force of nature, and try to seal it forever, but some forests are laid out to be burned down every few years so it can sprout anew, eliminating the fires destroys more than it protects even if it may look like the objectively good thing at first
yet they keep trying to fight it instead of adjusting life with it, if the world of loz has to fall to grow anew, theres surely a way to work with it instead of fighting it again and again, next time always being worse than the last
( this at least is how i see the canon as it currently is, in my own AU comic its a very different deal )
#ganondoodles talks#loz#totk#a little rant from twitter im putting here too#this isnt well researched nor articulated since im notoriously bad at that#there are alot of people that have a way better reading of the lore in connection with japanece myths#ive grown a little tired of people wishing for gan to be freed of the curse tm so he can be purely good#like ... man that makes it uninteresting
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I sincerely like when just "kind eh OK" show stumbles and face slams into the pavement right at the finishing line... makes it kinda hilarious actually. Aw damn buddy you almost got it. You got the emotional response, but you also lack teeth and failed at what you were supposed to do....
*sigh* why did they reveal one of the core unanswered questions that was supposed to stay unanswered..
*sigh*
If i wasnt mainly fo1 fo2 n fonv fan i might have liked it..kinda..like.. its ok show.. The pacing is bad and the characters get progressively dumber..but it has some aspects that I enjoyed. The gore.. The ghouls...the set design..They also picked really good and interesting actors for main AND support cast (many character actors that I always enjoy seeing no matter where!!!)...
Also also many moments that reminded me of original fallouts and that tbh makes me sadder more than anything else...sadder kinda fondly kinda sourly...ill get back to replaying those fosils because of that.
n speaking of the old games..There were Many retcons I dont agree with... and the possibility that the show lore is canon over the game lore is absurd. Fortunately if true, it doesnt really bother me because I differentiate between the different games lores to begin with.. Its just a bummer...
I expected much much worse and I prepared for way much WORSE.. and it was... eh ok
tho...funnily enough as of writing this I am forgetting what even happened on the show...
oh well
#wishing i could put my thoughts together better#but i really dont have the capacity nor do I actually want to think about it more#soooooo maaannyyyyy gripes#will not bother with that#fallout show#fallout spoilers#fallout amazon
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the craziest part about being queer and closeted is that you don’t even know how exhausting it is until it hits in the most random situations
#i had to write an email to my counselor#asking her if she could just#not mention i’m president of the gender& sexuality alliance#nor my essay which includes struggle with my sexuality#to my mom during meetings#which is like#okay yeah makes sense#but mid writing the email i just burst into tears#and started crying so hard#like where did that come from#Man#I wish i didn’t have to live knowing she would never look at me the same if she knew who i really was#lgbt#wlw
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tumblr said draw something bad so I did but I'm mad I still didn't feel anything
#man i started tagging this and i cant even bring myself to do it. hashtag art hashtag illustration hashtag capitalism.#sorry to be sadposting... tumblr is the only place i can admit ive actually been really really struggling with my love for art...#i should be grateful. i should be thankful for the fact that i can do art as my job. i shouldnt be whining about it like this.#but theres a hole in my soul where my joy for creating used to be and i dont know how to fix it. i want to love to draw again.#its been like this for probably over a year now and i dont know what to do. i cant abandon everything ive been working on for 7 years.#im also unemployable. so its not like i would dare to quit moonlume...but i just want to find joy in it again...#but capitalism has dug its wretched claws into my skull so badly that everything has been feeling incredibly soulless. i hate it.#anyway. might delete this later. its unprofessional but this is the one website where i can let go of professionalism for 5min and be human.#i dont hate what i do and i really am thankful..i just i wish i wasnt so stressed about making everything look good and perfect and sellable#but at this point its subconsciously connected to my survival that every time i think about drawing i stress myself out before i even start#ugh idk. neither here nor there. cant quit but dont feel connected to my work but cant change what i do or i will alienate my audience 👍
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au where arthur and john are not being hunted/followed and they can play detectives for living and they're happy (:
#aka the least likely thing to happen to them#neither arthur nor john know comfort except each other and so be it#malevolent#malevolent podcast#i wish i polished this a little more but i had a thought and no time to waste
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I did just have the thought that the Nein, counting Luc, have a higher ratio of wizards per party than the Ring of Brass (40% vs 33.3%), which is kind of hilarious. Truly modern inheritors of the vision of the Age of Arcanum, but also enough modern sensibility and hard-won wisdom to recognize the pitfalls of the past. Platonic ideal of party comp.
#ludinus da'leth found dead in kreviris. he WISHES.#nonrebloggable because I don't wanna hear opinions on party comp. some of y'all get weird about wizards.#nor am I trying to say one of these parties is BETTER actually. I am saying they are shaking hands across time.#critical role
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