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trevanent · 7 months

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I think one thing I will say about the finale was that the most problematic aspect of the concept of the show was how it feels like they had to use the Fionna and Cake plot to Trojan horse a resolution to a swathe of loose ends Simon and Betty's arcs had. They pulled it off even better than I ever wanted to let myself hope for for the most part but I would say my main issue if anything was how cramped the finale felt when I think they could have left a lot more up to season 2 speculations (especially with the resolutions for the alt universes, they didn't really feel necessary when they basically just had to egg Scarab).

I feel I liked the understated melancholies of seeing Simon recontextualized and kinda infantilized in that temporary form hosting his mind, and some people have said the Casper and Nova thing felt hamfisted but I thought the vibes were too cute to care that it wasn't particularly "efficient" as far as metaphors go, but that does slow down the pace which probably crunched the ending a little harder :'). But it also worked in further showing the sad side-effect of the crown on Simon's relationships, including that of stunting his ability to have ever matured in his understandings of love and his relationship with Betty. I also think their last scene in the memory worked because it was Simon reconsidering how he viewed their relationship for the first time, even if his attempt to do for Betty what she did for him would have just been an inversion of their original flaw, the scene rests on them understanding it's unchangeable anyway, so that decision doesn't matter so much and it's not something for Simon to dwell on.

I also feel I liked the scene a lot in spite of how scarce it felt in the finale was because of what was most conspicuously unaddressed, which was just the sheer logistical impossibility of any different choices they made having possibly been any "better." It sticks out because Betty says they could have made better choices, which kinda seems to situate their relationship in a vacuum as if there wasn't a very high likelihood had they done anything different at that crossroads, they would have just been literally nuked into orbit regardless. Sure, it seems like enough time had passed for them to have worked out their relationship better at least and then died, but that kinda seems better by an arbitrarily less tragic amount, and really it seems the least tragic possibilities ever were either that they conceive their relationship more healthily, Simon finds the crown and protects Betty from exploding somehow and also doesn't warp her to the future, and they live some terrible survival life but at least they get a chance to live something kinda fulfilling and Betty probably would have taken care of Ice King decently for the remainder of her life once Simon was gone while also having a better understanding of what had happened to him. The only other hand would be that she also was still warped to the future he finds the crown but Simon had not enabled her self-sacrificial tendencies and so she becomes less undividedly obsessed with saving him and instead integrates into Ooo more properly and also accepts what had become of him (I find it hard to think she would have just let him die either way though lmao).

That all said, they had been around a long time to have reflected over everything. I think it is a bit of an issue that they don't really allude to that, but I find it easy to believe that they did recognize how thwarted a happy ending would ever be for them by all angles of their reality, yet they still had that tender ache of that simple and small tragedy just between them two that still exists within the torrent of catastrophe that engulfed them and the breadth of their fate. So much horror in their lives but they reconnect and find themselves primarily concerned with that last regret of not having been able to make the ideal relationship they quite thought they had.

#fionna and cake spoilers #Besides that I would say my other kinda issue with the best part of the finale was that you also don't get to see much more #of how Simon enables Betty besides the elaboration on what Betty alludes to in Temple of Mars #Like they only show the red flags at the start of their relationship but I feel they could have taken some time out of the Scarab fight #to have pretty much just one more scene of his lack of awareness in their relationship after they got together #Because we literally only see him make a misstep right at the inception and that Casper and Nova imply this was a continuous pattern #But Simon has literally no autonomy over himself or Betty for like 95% of the original Adventure Time #and tries to stop her from saving him the first time she shows up #Granted I suppose he saw it as being for his own good should he die and leave Betty alone in some alien world #But that whole situation was profoundly different and difficult to have controlled #save for Simon having not opened that portal at all but the considerations and assumptions of how that might have affected her #a thousand years ago... seems difficult to forsee mid-rigor mortis #So it just sorta feels like Casper and Nova kinda was just pointing to something we didn't actually get to see that much of #And though Simon failing to consider that it wasn't great Betty threw out her plans to do Simon's thing like it was nothing #and then overlooking that more directly and with initiative a second time even with Babette yelling at him was a strong enough prelude #for you to “get the idea” but like. Damn! I wanna see a little of the idea maybe

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cassius-erosennin · 8 months

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i love how the biggest mystery/conflict from the red rising world is whether the Vale exists or not. its the big rift that separates golds from reds (which, as lysander shows in the end of lb, truly are The Colors). the void awaits golds, which makes them believe only this life counts, the vale awaits reds, which makes them unbelievable fighters, knowing there’s Something after.

yet darrow lives in between those world views, he swings between the void and the vale. half his friends died believing in the vale, the other half he lost to the void.

me personally, i believe darrow >will< die in red god, just like i knew lysander was the only one who could/would kill cassius. but darrows death will be the key to solve this universe’s biggest secret: is there a Vale? are they all waiting for darrow there? was this whole thing worth it?

in other words, are reds or golds right? because that makes all the difference about what this saga has meant so far, if its the void waiting for darrow in the end.

#darrow of lykos #darrow of mars #red rising #light bringer #light bringer spoilers #spoilers #i LOVE that out of such a violent scifi we are getting to the nitty and gritty of philosophy #thanks pierce

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purplepotatobread · 9 months

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🚨Lightbringer spoilers🚨

"Dying at his side would have been better than this. I'd trade him for all the ships. All the Moon Lords. He was worth all of them put together."-Lightbringer

#red rising #lightbringer spoilers #lightbringer #it hurts so bad #everything is numb #i cant say i understood much after that happened #back to mars is all i got

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buggymarsh · 8 months

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”you need to figure out if you feel forever about him.” ellen claremont tells her son who just came out to her and told her he had a boyfriend who happened to be the prince of england.

– > red, white & royal blue (2023)

i actually sobbed so many times during this movie and it's ended up on my top movies of all time bc i cried and felt so much throughout the entire movie n i definitely need to read the book, and also one last stop by casey mcquiston as well bc i would love to see that turned into a movie too

#₊˚ʚ ᗢ mars watches ;#! red white & royal blue #red white and royal blue #rwrb spoilers #rwrb #rwrb movie #rwrb film #alex claremont diaz #ellen claremont

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jinjeriffic · 3 months

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DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 2

Part 1

Damian glared at the envelope. He and Father were in the process of analysing the letter for any signs of toxins, explosives or other traps. Obviously he wasn’t fool enough to open a missive from a questionable source without taking precautions. So far, all their scans had come up empty. Literally. The letter was defying all their attempts at chemical or spectroscopic testing, x-ray and magnetic resonance scans were inconclusive, it defied all properties of ordinary matter. It was frustrating. It was vexing. He was blaming magic.

For all intents and purposes, the letter looked like ordinary paper, with an ordinary wax seal, bearing the initials CW. The looping handwriting addressing it to Damian was precise and neat. Swiping the surface of the letter for chemical traces yielded no results. When Damian had tried to cut off a corner of the paper for analysis it had resisted all attempts, including a laser and a diamond headed cutting tool. Damian’s only satisfaction was that when Father had grunted and taken over the task from Damian, he had no more success than his son. As if Damian didn’t know how to perform the standard array of tests!

It certainly didn’t help that his siblings wouldn’t stop their incessant chattering!

“I’m just saying, ghosts wouldn’t be the weirdest thing we’ve encountered, Red. I’m not sure it would even make my personal Top 5.”

It seemed gossip among heroes travelled faster than the speed of light.

“Really, Nightwing? Ghosts? It’s far more likely to be a meta with something to hide. Or a few screws loose.” Damian could practically hear the eyeroll in Drake’s voice “And since when do ghosts act as glorified mailmen?”

“I don’t know Red, since when do aliens pretend to be Kansas farmboys? C’mon, we deal with magic users all the time!”

“And lets not forget people coming back from the dead” Red Hood interjected over the open comm line.

“Magic is just science we don’t understand yet. Any sufficiently analysed magic becomes indistinguishable from science!”

“B, a little help here?”

“Hn” Father straightened up from his position at the lab table “Oracle, any progress on clearing up the footage from Robin’s mask?”

Grayson threw up his hands with a frustrated huff while Drake smirked.

“The program is almost finished rendering. Whatever scrambler they used did a real number on the video quality. I’m surprised the audio is as clear as it is.” Oracle replied.

“Hn. And the isotope tracer on the money?”

“Sorry B, no hits on the local sensors. Wherever the guy went it’s either outside Gotham or shielded somehow.” she said, mildly frustrated.

“Maybe it’s ghost magiiiiic” Drake sing-songed. Grayson lightly cuffed the back of his head, to which the former Robin responded with a firm shove. Their interaction quickly devolved into a childish tussle.

Damian gave an annoyed huff. “Don’t you two imbeciles have anything better to do?”

“Aww, we’re just here to look out for our baby brother!” Nightwing teased.

“Yeah, we gotta make sure your ghost encounter didn’t leave any lasting psychological damage!” Red Robin added.

Before Damian could retaliate for their needling, Oracle chimed in. “Uh, guys? You’re going to want to see this. Most of the footage was corrupted beyond repair, but I was able to pull some partial stills and, well…” she threw a handful of pictures up on the screen. There was artifacting marring them, but parts of the stranger were visible in each of them. Oracle magnified one that had a pretty good view of his face.

“Holy shit” Drake whispered.

Damian frowned. “What?”

“Dami, he looks like you. Just… older.” Grayson said softly.

“What are you talking about?” Damian snapped.

“Disregard the pale colouring for a second. The nose, the chin… he looks like you if you had a growth spurt,” Drake wrinkled his nose “and went through puberty.”

The commlines erupted into chaos.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Spoiler exclaimed “are you telling me there’s an older version of Robin running around Gotham?!”

“Copy?” Batgirl inquired.

“Don’t tell me Talia cooked up Demon Brat 2.0!”

“Given that he looks older it’s more likely version 0.1 if anything,” Drake snarked, “though there’s the possibility of artificially accelerated growth rates…”

Damian had had enough. “Tt. You are ignoring the obvious - if this is some kind of supernatural entity it likely copied aspects of my appearance in an attempt to engender feelings of familiarity.” he said haughtily, pushing down the uncomfortable churning in his stomach. There was no way Mother would replace him with a cheap copy. She couldn’t! “Besides, the creature has obvious powers and neither of my bloodlines has any trace of the meta gene.”

“That’s ignoring the ghostly elephant in the room.” Grayson chimed in, “Maybe it’s a dead ancestor?”

Drake gave their older brother an annoyed look “Even a time travelling descendant from the future is more likely than that. And delivering a ‘prophecy’ to boot?”

Oracle pulled up an aged up picture of Damian next to the stranger’s, highlighting several reference points. “On closer inspection, there’s a couple of discrepancies. The cheekbones for one - Robin definitely takes after his mother, while our mystery meta looks more like… well… Robin’s grandmother on the paternal side.” she finished hesitantly. “B?”

They turned to look at Batman, who had remained silent during the whole exchange. If they hadn’t known him so well they would have thought him unaffected, but the tightening around his mouth betrayed his agitation.

“There’s no use in pointless speculation until we have more data to work from,” he growled, “Oracle, look for any reports of a meta matching the target. Since our regular methods have failed to yield results, I will contact the JLD about running tests on the letter.” He turned to Drake, “Red Robin, see what you can find on recent League activities. If this is another scheme by Ra’s or Talia we need to know about it.”

“The last thing we need is more demon spawn running around!” Red Hood groaned over the comms.

Damian was furious. This was absurd! To even indulge the possibility that that creature was in any way related to him was making him feel like he had swallowed battery acid. He was the Demon’s Heir! He was not replaceable! There was only one thing to do.

“Robin? Stop!”

He ignored his Father’s shout. He stomped over to the lab table, snatched up the envelope and broke the seal.

Nothing happened.

He unfolded the paper and saw the same handwriting that had been on the outside.

Brother of blood, brother of soul

Never buried but already mourned

In lightning and ice the scorned child returned

To strike down the Demon’s Head

With all that Death earned

Damian’s hand shook. He reread the lines over and over again, refusing to comprehend. He could feel his Father standing behind him, scrutinising the letter as well.

“Son…”

Suddenly, the paper burst into green flames, going up into smoke that dissipated unnaturally quickly.

Silence reigned for a few moments. Then…

“Well that was needlessly melodramatic” Nightwing remarked.

Part 3

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman #dc domics #batfamily #no beta we die like danny phantom #prophecy universe #the one where clockwork uses prophecies to mess things up (and set things right)#fanfic #congrats bruce it's a boy #clockwork loves melodrama

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comatosebunny09 · 5 months

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clumsy | astarion a.

genre(s): romance, erotica (kinda sorta) warnings: blood drinking, dry humping, steaminess, terms of endearment (petal, sweetling), language summary: you get hurt. astarion helps the best way he knows how. spoiler: it's with his mouth. now playing: shirt - sza notes: based off the results for this poll. hope you all enjoy! thank you so much for reading! ❤️❤️❤️

It’s an accident.

Happens when your attention is siphoned by Shadowheart bidding you a “goodnight” over the firelight as she moves to retire to her tent.

You look up from your sword, the whetstone warm and textured in your hand, grinding across your blade in your lap as you offer her a smile.

You’re usually so attentive. So careful. Yet, tonight, you grossly misjudged your ability to multitask.

Shclink!

The cut is inevitable. Tears a hiss from betwixt your lips, and the whetstone plops to the ground along with the weighted thump of your weapon. You’re on your feet, nursing the angry, red line marring your palm. It buds with crimson, a pretty contrast to your skin.

“Hells!” cries Shadowheart, scrambling to your aid. She gently peels your hand away from your chest. Winces at the blood lazily spurring from your cut. A clean slice. Her voice holds concern when she looks up at you. “You’ll live. Would you like me to take care of it?”

Your lips quirk despite the pained knit of your brows. You draw your hand back, cradling it in your other. “Nah. Wouldn’t want you to waste your magic on something so small.”

“You’re sure?”

The tearing of your shirt fills the stilled space between you. Shadowheart blinks as you haphazardly wrap the scrap around your wound, mustering a reassuring smile. “I got it. I’ve had worse. You get some rest.”

Shadowheart smiles something unconvinced. Squeezes your shoulder. “You’ll come find me if you can’t staunch the bleeding?”

You nod, wary of the exhaustion hanging below her eyes. She examines you a moment longer before stepping around you and away from the warmth of the fire.

You watch Shadowheart retreat behind the flap of her tent. Left with the idle crackle of the campfire. Your hand throbs, your blood coloring the fabric you dressed it with.

You suck your teeth. Bend to retrieve your sword, cautiously setting it on the log you once occupied. You feel the hot trickle of your blood coasting down your fingertips. Hear it drip against the soil, the sound amplified in the stillness swallowing you.

You’ll need more than a bit of cloth to manage this.

Your gaze flits to your pack. You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, contemplating downing a potion to mend your hand. Then, you spot Gale’s tent. You could trouble him for some help. But, again, you see no need to waste your companion’s magic on something so contrite. You won't die, after all. It’s just blood.

Just…

Blood.

Your mind suddenly sparkles with an idea. A mischievous one, but an idea, nonetheless.

You wipe your hands on your breeches, starting towards a familiar setup. And somehow, devilry sets your face alight along with the coppery glow of the moon.

You find him silhouetted by the moonlight. Curls of white mulling over the deckled pages of a book, seated on a stool at the mouth of his tent.

You’re not trying to be discreet. Feet crunch soundly through the dry grass, alerting the vampire to your presence. Though, you’re sure he could hear you from eons away.

Astarion doesn’t look up as he acknowledges you, concentration nestled amongst his features whilst he turns a page. “Well, hello, sweetling. Fancy a cud—dle?”

The book, once cradled in his palm, clatters to the ground.

His expression is bemused as you slide onto his lap, your legs dangling on either side of his waist. Your arms sluggishly encircle his neck, and your chests brush together, coaxing an undignified sound from his throat.

Astarion intuitively wraps your hips in the circle of his arms to keep you both from toppling over. Angles his neck to stare up at you. His mouth hangs open with an unasked question.

Your voice is light. Twinged with something seductive. Manipulative. “Astarion,” you sing-song.

“Petal?”

“I need you,” you state plainly.

His brows quirk. Quads tense beneath you. “You—what?”

You bite back a laugh. It isn’t often you catch Astarion so off guard. Typically, he’s the one dismantling your resolve with his forwardness.

“As much as I enjoy beating around the bush with you,” Astarion’s nose twitches as he samples the air with it. Vermilion eyes land on you, shining with the slightest bit of apprehension. “You’re bleeding.”

“Keen observation.” You shift upon his lap, thrusting your bloody hand into his face until he goes cross-eyed. “Mind cleaning it up?” It’s more of a demand than it is a request. Damn your innocent face.

Astarion’s mouth twitches. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. Hunger wades below the depths of his irises whilst he glances between you and the blood seeping so enticingly through your impromptu bandage.

“Not going to tell me what’s happened?”

You shake your head, that devilish smile still twisting up your lips. “No time. I’m dying, Astarion. Save me. Saaave meee.” You drape your hand over your forehead and lean back to turn up the drama.

He scoffs at your theatrics, feigning aloofness despite his muscles twitching beneath you. “Fine.” Mumbles about being the cleanup crew as he unravels the cloth from your palm. Attentive and meticulous.

You flinch at the sticky pull of the dressing. The sting is immediately replaced by curiosity surfing along the shoreline of desire as Astarion appraises your wound.

He holds your hand between his. Looks at you with parted lips, saliva puddling in his cheeks. He licks his canines. His gaze holds a question. Offers an out as it chases the viscous fluid dribbling down your wrist.

Is this truly alright?

You nod, your breath held in your sternum.

Astarion studies you a moment longer before he delicately shackles your wrist in his hand, and his mouth pans in. His lashes shutter, and he groans something hoarse and feral as he presses his lips to the veins of your wrist. You flinch as if scorched by burning coal. How something as simple as a kiss could feel so sinful is beyond you.

You haven’t much time to linger on it because his tongue is sweltering and moving. Languid and obscene as it laps at the trail of crimson marring your skin. Astarion exhales appreciatively, his gaze sifting through his hunger to capture yours. He peppers your wrist with kisses, lips glistening a pretty red amid the moonlight.

You throb. Through hooded eyes, you watch your lover, your mouth parting with shallow breaths. A shudder filters through your bones, his lustful stare purposeful and unyielding.

He licks a torrid stripe up to your palm with a flattened tongue. Your fingers twitch with the need to touch. Thighs quiver. His wet mouth closes around your laceration with a raspy sound. Fangs graze the worn lines of your hand, and he sucks, drawing a bitten-off groan from your throat.

He feasts like he kisses. Stripping down your barriers, leaving you lightheaded and wanton. Swaying, and Astarion snakes an arm around your waist to keep you tethered to him. And a devious hand finds the globe of your ass and squeezes.

Your unoccupied hand curls around the base of his skull. Fingers comb through soft curls, and you press yourself impossibly closer to the rigid pane of his body. Your stomach spumes with heat. Somehow, your lover gorging himself on you turns your innards to mush.

Astarion moans. He fucking moans amid his sticky suckling, and you feel the sound stir something between your legs. He feels it, too, and he springs to life beneath the thick layers of his clothing, twitching against you.

Mindlessly, you bear your pelvis down on his. Sluggish like the drag of a tide, and Astarion hums his praise. He feels good. So wonderful, and you can’t help how your body instinctively writhes against his.

A few more languid rolls of your hips, and Astarion breaks away from your hand all too soon, heaving a breath as if resurfacing from water, his lips crooked with a smirk.

His mouth shines with your blood. Your ichor. And he greedily licks it up, not leaving a single morsel behind. The notion siphons your breath, and you feel like the most exalted thing. Hardly notice your skin gradually mending itself thanks to your lover’s attentiveness.

Once the lustful haze somewhat abates, Astarion’s chest rumbles with a chuckle as he draws you ever closer, sealing your body to his. “Tell me, petal. Surely, you didn’t come all this way just to provide me a midnight snack.“

His mouth drags along the slope of your neck, sending little warning shocks throughout your lower extremities. His throat crackles with a groan at the quickening of your pulse, teeth pinpricking your flesh.

“Don’t know what you’re on about,” you husk, craning your head back to allow him more access. Still playing innocent as if you didn’t charm him into this wicked dance of bodies and tongues. “But whatever it is, I like where it’s going.”

Astarion chuckles, lips sealing around your throat and sucking.

Your responding gasp is wet and wanton.

And you find yourself thanking the Gods for your carelessness.

#astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion imagine #astarion smut #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #astarion fanfic

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