sorry not sorry I am suspicious of anyone who derides Wyll as significantly worse or more boring than the other companions. it's fine to say he was underwritten or whatever but I just don't buy that if you exchanged Astarion and Wyll's skin tones and nothing else about them changed it wouldn't reflect on their popularity. black companions are aaaaalways deemed the most boring/"poorly written"/whatever, and at one point you have to consider that maybe you're the problem
A gif set went by, sad that Kanan and Hera didn’t get their happy ending, and I realized that that’s fundamentally what’s wrong with Disney!Star Wars. Not Kanan and Hera, specifically, but that there are no happy endings in Star Wars any more. Inexplicably, the company known for happy endings took a franchise that had happy endings and said: “Nope. Let’s be Joss Whedon instead.”
Of the originally trilogy folks: Han and Leia don’t work out as a couple, and their son [insert whichever canon you prefer here, but it isn’t good no matter how you slice it*], also they all die, not of old age. Luke’s dream of a new Jedi Order is destroyed, so no happy ending for him. And he dies, not of old age. All of this is also pretty horrible for Chewbacca, since that’s a whole bunch of his friends. (Yes, he would have outlived them all anyway, still...) Lando apparently had his child stolen from him at some point. The Empire returned, worse than ever, and in a very short amount of time. Hell, the Emperor wasn’t even dead, so so much for Vader’s sacrifice.
In Rebels, the writers went out of their way to kill Kanan off and leave Hera with a “but pregnant” version of a “happy ending.” Ezra loses his (supposed) new family and ends up in space whale limbo. (Not real sure what’s supposed to have become of Sabine. ... Oh, I guess, Zeb got a happy ending with SIdeburns McGenocide, for some reason.)
The Mandalorian isn’t finished yet, but having even a satisfying ending is looking unlikely there. It’s either going to have a “happy” ending that doesn’t actually fit the character (here’s your consolation prize, Din, you get to be the new Mandalore), or it’s going to have an unhappy ending. (Yes, I realize I could still be wrong, but I am deeply cynical about Disney!Star Wars.)
The sequel trilogy ends with Rey alone, and Finn and Poe aren’t important enough to get endings. I guess Lando gets a possibly happy ending of going off with his possibly daughter. Yay? But how can we have any faith that the Empire is actually gone and the Emperor actually dead. Both were supposed to be true before and weren’t. The New Republic was a bust, anyway, so like the galaxy just goes shittily on, I guess. Yay?
(The Resistance characters are kind of left in limbo, given where the show falls in the time line. Same, really with a lot of the new!EU book characters. At least the ones that aren’t explicitly killed off in the films.)
I know Star Wars has always had a bit of a problem with being stuck in a permanent Empire vs. Republic/ Sith vs. Jedi battle for all eternity, especially if you look at the extended universe stuff, but the movies had a satisfyingly optimistic arc with the state of the galaxy ending up in a better place again. (Even if the story wasn’t necessarily finished.) Hell, there were real time decades of books in the old!EU before the torture aliens from Warhammer 40K showed up and ruined everything. And at least they weren’t the same damn villains who were already supposed to be defeated.
Now, it really does feel like Joss Whedon is running the show. Or rather, someone who really, really wants to be him, but doesn’t have his talent for zippy dialogue. (I may have issues with some aspects of Whedon’s storytelling, but I will give credit where credit is due.) Though, honestly, despite Whedon’s insistence on things sucking mightily if you’re a hero and on destroying any romantic relationships, he generally allows his heroes a greater level of final success than Disney!Star Wars has. So, yeah, somebody at Disney is aping all of Whedon’s worst traits and none of his better ones. Whee.
And I probably wouldn’t care so much if I didn’t want fiction to be optimistic and offer hope that reality doesn’t. When fiction known for optimism starts saying, well, actually, you can’t accomplish anything and things will always suck and the bad guys don’t even stay dead, I get very salty about the whole thing.
*This is also a problem, mind. Unless you’re intentionally aiming for a Rashomon-type story, a character’s story probably shouldn’t be multiple choice.
It’s not fine to call people things like sexist, racist, ableist, or anything else if that is NOT THE ISSUE THEY HAVE WITH THE CHARACTER.
If that happens to be the problem, then fine, call them out. But if they just have issues with the way the character is represented, treated, or acts, then it is NOT something to get upset about.
Sb: Wah waaaah I don't like it when fan content gets ~monetized~ via commissions, it ruins fandom culture, I don't see people who have patrons as people that other people can be friends with because--
Me: Oh, shut the fuck up. The Sistine Chapel ceiling art was commissioned fan art of the bible.
Me: Also, you putting this distance between content creators who make money off of fan content--or are even just ridiculously popular--sounds like a you problem.
People who think that no one should make even commission money off of fan works kinda frustrate me. "I just want all of my fan content for freeeeee why do I have to paaaay for iiiitttt waaaahhhhh"
Like most artists asking for commissions I've ever seen don't even specify specific fandoms--most of the time, it's the people buying the commission that makes it related to fandom.
And it's not like people don't commission others to write stories for them.
Stop complaining if a freelancer wants money for their content, you ass.
Michael wiped the cotton cloth across the altar, marveling at the shine left behind as he cleaned. The marble was always covered in smudges, fingerprints, and stains from splashed wine by Sunday night. Michael found joy in making the surface pristine for another week of worship. Giving the parish a ‘clean slate’ to worship upon made Michael feel like he was giving himself permission to preach, as well. He could not bring himself to lead his parishioners without doing this every week. Not to mention the church looked absolutely beautiful after dark, lit only by candles. Seeing it was but one of the few luxuries he’d allow himself to have.
“Well, that truly is a sight to behold,” a voice echoed through the empty church. “A priest bent over an altar.”
Michael froze mid-wipe, still bent over the altar, and glanced down at his rosary as it slipped out of his partially unzipped sweater and made a tinkling noise on the marble. That was not a voice he expected to hear on a Sunday. She usually showed enough respect to not show up on Sundays. Letting out a weary sigh, Michael brought himself back up to a standing position before turning around.
“It is not Monday yet,” Michael pointed out. He looked at one of the clocks mounted on the walls just to make sure he was correct. It was 10:48pm. He had just over an hour until Monday.
“Do I really seem like someone who cares?” the woman asked as she meandered closer to Michael, dragging her fingers over the pews as she passed them.
“No, but I do. Why are you here on a Sunday, Ruby?” Michael asked. He twisted in place to set his cleaning cloth down on the altar before Ruby reached him.
“Well, Father,” Ruby began. She slowed to a stop in front of Michael and reached out to run a finger down one side of Michael’s rosary as she gave him a mischievous look. “I have a confession to make. You do still provide those services, do you not?”
“A demon seeking the Lord’s forgiveness? And here I thought I’d never see the day,” Michael muttered.
“It has been several centuries since my last confession,” Ruby continued, ignoring Michael’s comment. She took a step closer to Michael and began to tip-toe her fingers up his chest. “I have...quite a few sins I wish to confess. Do you have the time?”
Michael closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as he felt Ruby’s fingers make their way closer and closer to his collar. It was a familiar game that Ruby was playing; Act coy so it made Michael feel as if he was the one corrupting Ruby instead of the other way around. A week would never go by without this. And, Lord above forgive him, did Ruby know the exact strings to pull to get what she wanted from Michael.
Feeling the string of his self-restraint break, Michael pushed Ruby’s hand aside and reached out to grab her face to pull her into a kiss. He was a weak man. There was no way he could handle her teasing until midnight struck. And tease Ruby would, if given the opportunity. Michael growled into the kiss when he felt Ruby’s hand tangle into his rosary pinned between the two of them and turned the two of them around so he could push her into the altar.
“Break it and I’ll exorcise you, myself,” Michael hissed during the moment he pulled away so he could start mouthing at Ruby’s neck.
“God, I love it when you start talking dirty,” Ruby breathed into Michael’s ear.
Michael bit down hard on Ruby’s neck for the blasphemy, grinding his hips into hers as he listened to her moan echo off the church walls. Michael briefly wondered how high on the blasphemy scale that sound ranked because he didn’t want her to stop. He’d do anything to keep her from stopping.
“I am afraid I break several commandments on a regular basis, Father,” Ruby continued. She removed her fingers from Michael’s rosary and unzipped his sweater the rest of the way so she could run her nails down his shirt. “I covet. I steal. I’ve beared false witness.”
“Quite the sinner we have here, my child,” Michael murmured into Ruby’s ear. He smirked into her hair when he noticed the goosebumps that grew on her neck.
“Oh, yes,” Ruby agreed with a few jerky nods. “And it gets far worse. I cannot remember the last time I honored my parents. I take the Lord’s name in vain. I commit adultery. I murder.”
“That is such a long list. How can one even hope to gain the Lord’s forgiveness for such sins?” Michael questioned. He pushed a hand up Ruby’s shirt to remove it completely and blindly tossed it onto the altar behind her.
“Oh, I didn’t come to confession for absolution, Father,” Ruby chuckled. She took the removal of her shirt as an invitation to start attacking Michael’s belt. Once she had it loose and Michael’s pants open, she hooked her fingers through the front two loops and pulled Michael closer. “I came to brag.”
“Now, you’ve broken enough of the rules already. No need to bring the seven deadly sins into this,” Michael chided.
“Where is the fun in that?” Ruby asked, giving Michael doe eyes.
Michael dipped his head to kiss Ruby again in response and cupped his hands under her ass to lift her up onto the altar. Ruby immediately wrapped her legs around Michael’s waist to pin him against her as she ran her hands through his hair. It was Michael’s turn to moan when Ruby scratched at his roots before gripping his hair tightly and jerking his head back so she could nibble at his adam’s apple.
Michael’s eyes focused on the face of Jesus, hanging high above them on the cross, and he swallowed hard as his brain began to finally register what he and Ruby were doing. What Ruby had baited him into. Thinking back to why he was in the church so late to begin with, Michael let out another growl and stepped away from Ruby.
“What is it?” Ruby asked, a look of confusion growing on her face in response to Michael’s sudden change in demeanor.
Michael ignored her question, however, in favor of pulling her off the altar and turning her around so he could push her forward and pin her down in a bent-over position. He held her down with one hand between her shoulder blades - an action he was sure he’d pay for later - and used his other hand to make quick work of undoing her jeans and pulling them down, along with her underwear. Sometimes it amazed him how much Ruby was willing to let him do when he considered how she could overpower him without effort. But he also knew better than to comment on her tolerance - or, dare he say, preference - for manhandling. She would turn it around on him purely out of spite. She had done it before.
“You come into the house of the Lord,” Michael said as he ground his hips into Ruby’s, pulling a moan out of her as his zipper scraped against her skin and left red marks behind. “On the Sabbath. A walking example of lust and debauchery. And you don’t expect to pay for such blasphemy? I dare say, I could almost call you a masochist.”
“Yes. I agree. I deserve to be punished. What punishment fits the crime, Father?” Ruby asked with a smirk, looking back over her shoulder at Michael.
“I have something very fitting in mind,” Michael hissed back. He undid his own pants the rest of the way and snatched the small bottle of mineral oil he had intended to use on the altar that night out of the basket of cleaning materials that sat at their feet.
Ruby quickly took the opportunity to push back against Michael when he had to remove his hand from her back to slather oil on both of them. However, she was soon grasping at the far edge of the altar and letting out a long moan after Michael tossed the bottle of oil aside and grabbed both of her hips to thrust in with one quick movement. Michael took a moment to steady his breathing, the room suddenly feeling much warmer than it was before, and reached forward with his dry hand to grab a handful of Ruby’s hair.
“Now, just look at that,” Michael whispered into Ruby’s ear as he held her head back far enough so she’d have no choice but to look at the crucifixion. “All these sins you’ve listed off, and he loves you regardless.”
Ruby let out a mewling whimper when Michael pulled out nearly all the way before snapping his hips back forward. She scrambled to get one arm under her for support and used the other one to reach back and grasp at Michael’s hand on her hip. Ruby shuddered at the feeling of Michael’s hot breath on the side of her neck as he gave her a few kitten licks and refused to let go of her hair.
“You didn’t even have to ask him to die for you. He did it, anyway,” Michael continued, punctuating every third word with a hard thrust. It took every ounce of Michael’s self-control to not let loose when Ruby’s moaning from earlier returned, but he managed it. Barely. A sudden high-pitched squeak from Ruby when Michael had to adjust his weight on his feet and inadvertently changed his angle didn’t help. “And, truly, that is the ultimate forgiveness. Nothing I say, nothing I do, can ever absolve you more than you accepting that precious gift of love he has given us all.”
“Good, ol’ JC can come visit me in Hell if he has something to give me,” Ruby shot back in a breathy tone. Michael slammed his hips forward and tightened his grip on Ruby’s hair before leaning forward to speak into her ear again.
“I am sure he would do just that if you asked him very, very politely,” Michael hissed.
Michael began thrusting into Ruby in earnest, foregoing any further banter back-and-forth in favor of pulling as many noises out of Ruby as he could. Which she delivered with repeated moans and heady breaths. It was intoxicating. If Michael was going to succumb to sin, this had to be his favorite way to go.
“Gah, fuck… Michael…” Ruby squeaked out between breaths, whimpering in need when he gripped her hair even tighter to keep her eyes on the crucifixion hanging above them. “Michael.”
The sight of his bouncing rosary caught Michael’s eye when he glanced down to adjust his grip on Ruby’s hip, and the reminder that he shouldn’t be doing this was enough to push him close to the edge. Michael released Ruby’s hair so he could grab both of her hips while he tried to get closer and closer. Beneath him, he could feel Ruby start to shudder as she cried out and gripped at the marble atlar again with white knuckles. The sensation of Ruby clenching around him finally pushed Michael over, and he rode them both out with a few more shaky thrusts.
The church soon fell quiet again with only heavy breathing to break the silence. Michael leaned forward with a forearm on the altar, next to Ruby, to keep himself upright as he attempted to catch his breath. Ruby let herself lay slack across the altar, in no rush to move out of Michael’s continued grip on her hip, and pressed her forehead onto the cool marble. Michael glanced up at the clock and couldn’t stop the sharp laugh from escaping his mouth when he saw that the time was 11:23pm. It was still Sunday.
“You are the most blasphemous creature I have ever met,” Michael said as he slowly pulled away from Ruby finally.
“And yet, every week, you never say no to whatever I ask,” Ruby pointed out with a chuckle. She lifted her head up to look at the crucifixion and gave it a mock salute before pulling her pants and underwear back up.
“Would you even listen if I said no?” Michael asked while re-doing his buckle, not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer now that he voiced his thoughts out loud. He was very much aware again that the woman in front of him wasn’t human. Ruby turned around to give Michael a look.
“I may be a demon, Michael, but even I have standards. We’re not down below. While here on Earth, it’s a hell of a lot more fun when you’re an active participant,” Ruby scoffed. She paused a moment and leveled another look at him. This one a bit wary. “You wouldn’t actually go through with it, would you?”
“With what?” Michael asked. He absentmindedly zipped his sweater back up and tucked his rosary back in, barely catching Ruby’s glance down at it. “Oh. An exorcism. No, Ruby. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t do it if I tried. Regardless of what anyone does, I would not be capable of knowingly sending them to Hell. That is not a judgement that is my place to make.”
A look flashed across Ruby’s face that Michael wasn’t entirely able to decipher, and it was gone before he could imprint it in his memory to consider later.
“Still. Quite the threat for a string of beads,” Ruby pointed out.
“It was a gift from my parents when I held Mass for the first time by myself. It has far more meaning to me than any rosary I could ever receive from the Church,” Michael explained. He didn’t understand why he was telling Ruby anything. She was usually out the door by now, unable to be within the grounds of the church any longer than an hour and unwilling to test her limits. But Michael could tell she was fighting the pain that had begun to creep up under her skin. And, for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why she stayed.
“Humans and your sentimentality,” Ruby laughed with a shaky breath.
“Ruby, are you okay?” Michael asked. He took a step forward and raised a hand to touch the side of her face. Michael’s face scrunched up in concern when Ruby let her eyes flutter shut and turned into Michael’s touch.
“Such devotion, you have,” Ruby said, ignoring Michael’s question. “To meet up with a demon on a weekly basis and still remain loyal to the church.”
“We are all sinners, Ruby. Each and every one of us. While the Lord may judge me for my affairs with you, I still have a job to pass along his word to all who are willing to listen.” Ruby fell silent at Michael’s answer. Whatever her reasoning for still being there, Michael knew she couldn’t stay any longer when he began to feel her shake under his hand. “Ruby, come on. You shouldn’t be here. We’re getting closer to the hour mark.”
“Just a minute more, Michael. To stay here with you,” Ruby whispered. She inhaled and exhaled deeply before opening her eyes, both of them flashing black. “You really do deserve to be a priest.”
Michael pressed his lips tightly together when he had no immediate response. Now was not the time to admit that he had been questioning his position in the Church as of late. Because as much as he loved the Church, he didn’t need to be a priest to teach others about the word of God. And not being a priest meant being able to stay somewhere that didn’t cause Ruby physical pain. He needed to find a balance between his devotion to the Church and his devotion to her. It wasn’t coming easily.
“Come on, Ruby,” Michael insisted, grabbing her arm and pulling her gently in the direction of the main entrance. “It’s not safe for you here anymore.”
Michael didn’t know whether or not to take Ruby’s compliance as a sign of anything significant. But for now, he’d focus on getting her out of here. He could get his answers later.
This isn’t necessarily a Fairy Tail thing, but it is a thing with anime lately?
Show length. I'm watching bleach from the beginning, which of course is a lot older than Bleach of today. Bleach had an intro song less than a minute and a half long, and the episode lasted all the way until the final minute mark. all in all, just over two minutes of non-show material. Which leaves a twenty-minute show, considering the time bar was a 22-and-then-some marker. Watching a Fairy Tail episode or one of the more recent Bleach episodes had me sit through a three-and-a-half minute intro, then three to five minutes of recap of the last episode, then five minutes of credits at the end, and the timebar would only go up to 20 minutes half the time, sometimes going down to 18. So that's, what, ten minutes left? Half the length? I'm gonna go ahead and guess that the reason for this is cheap bastards in the entertainment industry deciding to fill up time with already-animated (recap) and reusable (intro and outro) material to cut down on how much work they have to put into each episode and how much they have to pay the people who animate.
this reminds me of another post I saw ages ago with a gifset of tony and steve's conversation in avengers after coulson's death, when steve asks tony "is this the first time you've lost a soldier?", and someone on the reblogs said steve was being cold and insensitive towards tony's grief over coulson. and that really stood out to because it was such a blatant misread, maligning steve's role in the scene to the point of dishonesty, that's it's bizarre to see another take about a different scene where steve was also trying to comfort tony in the face of grief.
it's comical in a way, because steve and tony being bad at communicating is actually a running theme through their interactions in the mcu, so it's ironic to see stans taking their failure to understand each other at face value. i'm assuming the take on that scene is that steve's comment was insensitive because tony reacted poorly to it, but just because a character said something the other character didn't like, it doesn't mean what they said was bad, or that they meant to upset anyone by it. that's... just a very basic situation in writing? sometimes characters just rub each other the wrong way and shit happens because of it. I... do not understand why that would be a difficult concept to grasp
