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doggone-devil · 2 months

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How (Not) to Summon a Demon: Chapter 10 (The End)

Here it is, my dear readers, the final chapter! The end to our story and with that, a big announcement! I am now writing a sequel! This book is now a series. How (Not) to Lose Your Soul will continue where we left off here, with the first chapter being released March 10th, 2024. I do hope you've all enjoyed this one and I hope its ending was well worth the wait. I look forward to seeing you all in the next one, my dear readers. <3 Pairing: Alastor x fem!Reader Warnings: mentions of death, mental breakdowns, loss, and use of profanity

It's instant, happening as fast as the bullet that pierced the air.

One second, he's looking at you as you look up at him, his heart thumping against his chest. He feels peace, something he hadn't in a very long time, and then it's gone.

He shouts your name, hearing Veronica scream but his focus is on you as you fall. He quickly grabs you, easing you to the ground gently. He calls your name again. "Stay with me!" You try to reach out for him but your hand falls. He looks down and his eyes widen. Blood. Your blood. So much of it spilling out from the wound in your chest. Your shirt is stained red. His heart stops, eyes watering. His smile hurts and he curses the way it stays on his face. He doesn't want to smile. Not now.

"You can't leave me," Alastor whispers, bringing his forehead to rest against yours. He feels hands start to pull him away, growling and snarling at them. Police are pushing him back as medics begin to touch you.

"Stay away from her!" he shouts at them. He has to protect you. He has to.

"Al, it's ok! They're going to help her!" Veronica says, stepping into view. Alastor glances at her then back to you. The police release him and he falls to the ground on his knees. He watches as they lift you up on a stretcher, carrying your limp body to the ambulance.

It's so sudden when it happens. He can feel it, like a string being cut. You're gone.

Green swirls around him, the light blinding and he fights against it.

"No! I have to stay, I have to be here with her! I can't leave!" he screams against the light, clawing at it to stay where he is. His hands pass through the asphalt, his body becoming transparent. "No!"

The scenery before him melts into one he's so familiar to, and yet unknown. The hard ground of the parking lot turns to plush carpet of the hotel lobby as Alastor is dropped back into Hell. The contract had been terminated, nullified by your death.

You were dead.

"Alastor!" Charlie runs over to where Alastor stays kneeled, his arms hanging limp, eyes wide as he stares numbly at the floor. "Alastor?" He looks up at her, the tears falling through. She gasps, "What happened?"

The smile that plagues him quivers as he speaks.

"I lost her." Charlie looks confused, placing her hand on Alastor's shoulder. "Lost who, Al?" The others are coming around now yet giving him space, their faces all carrying the same look of disbelief as they watch Alastor come undone.

His shadows start to dance around him, growling and hissing as they rise. His hands claw at his face. Charlie pulls back in fear, Vaggie coming to guide her further away. The shadows continue to swirl around him, giggling and laughing like children. Their hands clasp together, capturing Alastor inside the circle as green symbols appear. Green stitches thread through his lips and his clothes. He slams his fists to the ground, a painful howl releasing from him as his shadows scream. They break the circle and run rampant through the hotel, shaking the walls and rattling the furniture.

He rips at the carpet, anger and hurt burning through his chest as he whimpers. "I lost her."

Six days.

You had been in the hospital for six days when news of your ex's arrest made it to you. Veronica, your loyal friend, had made sure the police knew what happened, telling them about your history with John as she showed them the video from your phone. That, plus the fact that he shot you, landed him in prison for life. He was gone for good and yet you couldn't feel happy about it.

When you asked Veronica about Alastor, she had frowned, grabbing your hands gently. She explained how she tried to give him a ride to the hospital where they were taking you, but when she turned to tell him, he was gone. She had looked all around the parking lot, but nothing. Your heart dropped and you cried.

Deep down, you knew what had happened. The contract you formed with him when you did the summoning would only end when you either made your wish or if your life somehow ended before then. The doctors were able to resuscitate you, but you were dead for over a minute. You knew that's when it happened, the thread holding you and Alastor together had broke.

Another five days and the hospital cleared you to go home. The bullet had pierced your lung and you had lost an alarming amount of blood. Luckily, they were able to save you, a miracle they said. You didn't feel like it was a miracle.

Veronica helped you home, the apartment feeling cold and lonely. You glance at Alastor's room, expecting to see him there, smiling up at you and welcoming you home. The room is empty, cold. You feel the urge to cry returning.

"I'm gonna grab you some water, ok?" Veronica says, helping you to sit on the couch. You sit there numbly as she power walks to the kitchen, staring at nothing until she returns. She calls your name but you don't listen. Sighing, she sets the glass down on the coffee table. "Girlie, talk to me, please," she asks, grabbing your hands in hers. The tears begin to flow slowly.

"He's gone," you whisper.

"Well, yeah. Bastard's gonna rot in jail now." You shake your head.

"He's gone," you say again.

"Oh, you mean," she stops, not wanting to say his name in fear of you crying harder. "I'm sure he'll come back." You want to believe her, but you know he's gone. He was in Hell while you were stuck on Earth. The pain in your heart tumbles forth and you shake your head again, closing your eyes tight. You sob harder, wincing when your body shakes, pain throbbing in your chest. The wound was healed enough to no longer be fatal, but the remnants left behind still hurt.

"I didn't even get to say goodbye," you whisper through the tears.

"You make it sound like you won't ever see him again," Veronica jokes, but her smile fades when you don't laugh. "Oh honey. You love him, don't you?"

"Yes," you admit, your hands gripping your chest. You love him. You love him so much and you didn't even get to tell him, the chance ripped away from you. Veronica grabs you and pulls you into a tight hug. She rubs your back in an attempt to calm you.

"It's gonna be ok," she says. "If I know anything, it's that he loves you back so I'm sure he'll come waltzing through that door any day now."

"He won't," you sigh, wiping some of the tears away.

"Well not with that attitude. You gotta have some hope, right? Do you have his number? We could call him!" Veronica pulls out her phone. You stop her.

"It won't work."

"And why not?" she questions. You feel strange for what you're about to say, like you're betraying him in some way, yet you decide she needs to know.

"He's not here."

"Yeah, I got that Sherlock," she states, rolling her eyes. You shake your head.

"I meant he's not here on Earth." She looks at you like you've lost your head.

"Ok, gonna need you to start making sense here, girlie."

"Remember the book?" you ask. She nods. "Remember when I said I tried it out, too, when you went to get pizza?" She nods again and you sigh. "It worked."

"Wait, so," she sits further onto the couch, turning towards you, "are you saying that Alastor isn't here because he's the demon you summoned from the book?"

"Yep," you say with a pop. "Sounds insane when you say it."

"That's cause it is!" She stares at you in disbelief. "I mean, come on! The man might've been a bit weird, but, a demon?"

"A demon," you repeat, ignoring the look she gives you. You decide to give her the whole story. "He appeared in my room that following morning, talking about Hell and how he was contracted to make a wish with me for my soul." You smile fondly as you tell her about the deal you two made, how he'd live with you until you could make a wish. You even told her how you tried to make a wish for her but it was against the rules.

"You know this sounds bat shit crazy, right?" Veronica asks.

"Crazy or not, he was real. He was real and now he's … gone," you choke on the last word, folding in on yourself. Veronica frowns, crossing her arms.

"Well, you summoned him once, right? Do it again."

You look up at her. "What?"

"If you really did summon him, just do it again. We still have the book don't we?" You jerk upright, gasping in pain. "Easy!"

"The book," you say through the pain. "Where is it?"

"It's," Veronica trails off, looking around. You look, too, unable to spot it. You can't remember where you had put it, either, after that night. "Well, shit."

"We have to find it." You stand up, swaying slightly before moving forward. "Check the cushions. Under the table. It's got to be here."

"Alright, alright. Calm down, we'll find it." Veronica helps you look. It's not anywhere in the living room, nor in the kitchen or on the dining table. Did Alastor move it? God, you hope not. You'd never find it then. "Check your bedroom!" Veronica suggests.

"Good idea." You walk to your bedroom, throwing open the door. Your check under your covers, in your nightstand, your closet. You even force yourself to bend over to check under the bed, ignoring Veronica's protests. It's not there.

The book is gone.

"Fuck!" you shout, kicking your bed frame. You hiss at the pain in your toe.

"Don't hurt yourself more," Veronica warns, coming to help you. "Books don't just get up and walk away. We'll find it."

"Veronica, if I -," tears spill once again. "I have to see him again."

"Good lord, leave it to you to fall in love with a demon," Veronica huffs. "But I ain't one to not help my best friend after she's finally found someone. Not after all these years of me desperately trying. We'll get your man-demon-whatever, don't you worry." You manage to smile, hugging her tightly.

"Thank you."

"Anything for you, girlie." Veronica returns the hug, gentle as to not irritate your chest. You pull back, wiping the tears from your cheeks. You felt a surge of determination, of renewed hope. You were going to find that book, you were going to summon Alastor again, and you were going to tell him how you feel. Then, you would make your wish and neither Hell nor Heaven could stop you.

A knock at the front door startles you and Veronica, the two of your sharing a puzzled look. You weren't expecting company and neither was she.

"Stay here," Veronica mumbles, grabbing pepper spray from her pocket as she leaves to go see who it is. You wait patiently, worried, until she reappears.

"Who was it?" you ask.

"It's for you," she responds blankly, her eyes glazed over. You stand, walking to her.

"Veronica?" You wave your hand in front of her face, but she doesn't respond. You look past her and see a tall woman standing in your apartment. You quickly step around Veronica, shielding her. "What have you done?"

"What needs to be done," the woman speaks, her voice cold. It unnerves you.

"Who are you?"

"We both know you know the answer to that, my child," the woman says. You look at her more closely. Her eyes are angled, like an owl, her hair feathered out and down her back, pure white. It reminds you of feathers.

"You're an angel."

"Correct." She steps closer, her hands outstretched. "You have committed the ultimate sin, little one. I'm here to warn you. Turn back now, forget what has happened, and all shall be forgiven."

"What?" Forget what has happened? Forget… "No." You glare at her, fists clenched.

"No?" Her stone blue eyes narrow at you. "You would defy the word of Heaven?"

"I would defy the word of God himself if it meant I could stay with him," you state, teeth bared at her.

"Watch your tongue, little one. I can not save you from the fires if you so willingly go towards them," she warns. You bark out a laugh.

"If the fires are what I must walk through to return to him, I would gladly do so any day. Not you, nor any one else, is going to stop me."

"How sad." She drops her arms, her form shifting from human to something otherworldly. Her lips sharpen into a beak, her lashes growing out past her face. Multiple wings sprout from her back. "I ask once more, my child. Would you deny the gates of heaven, eternal peace, for a demon?" She sneers the word, as if it burns her tongue just to speak it.

"Yes," you answer. There is no hesitation, no doubt in your mind as you confirm your resolve. This is what you want.

"Very well, then." Her wings stretch out wide, flapping once. "Let's see if you can find your filthy demon again." In a flash of light, she's gone, silver glitter falling where she once stood. You hear Veronica groan behind you.

"The fuck just happened?"

You walk over to the front door, picking up a single feather. You twirl it in your hand, looking at Veronica with fire in your eyes. If Heaven was so adamant to stop you, taking away your only connection to him, then you'd go find another way. If you couldn't have his book, then you'd find another. You'd use every book depicting summoning you could get your hands on, calling forth any and every demon that would answer, until you found him. No matter the cost.

"Grab your hiking gear," you say, crushing the feather in your palm.

"What, why?" Veronica looks at you, confused. You smile, letting the crumpled feather fall to the floor.

"We're going hunting."

Until we meet again, my dear readers!

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Masterlist ... Ao3

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Just Another One

Sequel to: ‘A Little Bit Of Honesty’

Corpse Husband x Actress!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak, Mention of bad past relationships, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Romance, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: They keep proving each other right in the most wrong ways possible. They each want to be guarded even if that means the other will be hurt. Maybe that’s what they want - to hurt one another because they’ve already hurt each other once before.

Requested by the lovely readers who enjoyed the previous fic ‘A Little Bit Of Honesty’. Sorry for the large time gap between the posting of the two fics but I still hope you guys will take the time to read it and if so I hope you enjoy it! Love you all with all my heart, Vy ❤

When you go out of your way to avoid leaving the house your options of entertainment are severely limited and you can’t blame anyone or anything but yourself for it. Today, I wouldn’t have gone out of my apartment even if I was one of those people who frequent the outdoors seeing as how the sky is trying to flood the Earth with all this nonstop rain. It does set a mood for a perfect night in but when you spend all your nights in doing the same thing over and over again, the atmosphere is practically meaningless. And so I ‘ve decided to resort to channel surfing as though I’ll find something interesting on TV that I haven’t yet seen on one of my social media timelines.

I pass several cooking channels on my journey, making a mental note of their individual numbers in case I don’t stumble across anything capable of better distracting me from my boredom and loneliness that’s slowly starting to creep in. I pass by a few movie channels showing teenage romcoms as if to celebrate the start of summer so you can imagine how quickly I moved on from those. Then come the celebrity channels which can often get a laugh out of me because of how pathetic and unbelievably ridiculous they are. And so, I stick around one where there’s a broadcast on a movie showing that’s happening tonight in LA. Oddly enough, despite my anxiety, going to a movie showing has always been on my list of things I’d want to do. This can be considered living vicariously or rubbing salt into the wound that I’ll probably never go because my anxiety and fear of being recognized is too severe. Either way I stick around to watch it.

And man do I regret it now looking at several different angels of a couple of actors entering the venue where they are to be photographed and asked questions by the mob of paparazzi that’s gathered due to the massive event. That in and of itself doesn’t sound - and really isn’t - so bad. However, it’s important to note that the actress in this duo is Y/N. Y/N L/N. My Y/N....shit, sorry, I mean my FRIEND Y/N, her arm linked with whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is who is holding an umbrella above the both of them, shielding them from the downpour of rain that is also taking place in LA apparently.

“The two were seen entering the venue earlier this evening, looking particularly cozy in each other’s presence if I do say so myself. The rain probably worked nicely in their favor.“ The first reporter says, her teasing tone of voice sending chills of anger down my spine as I glare at the screen, hands balled in fists, jaw clenched - all my body’s instinctive reactions to what is being shown to me. I know I technically have no right to behave or feel this way, in fact I should be fucking happy for Y/N and her successful career and the progress in her love life. But damn it how can I?! I was so damn close to kissing this girl! I was so fucking close to falling in another trap, tripping and landing in the embrace of another liar and user, another girl who switches partners more often than shoes. How could I’ve been so reckless to get so close to her even platonically? How did we become close enough for me to 1) show her my face; 2) start inviting her over to my apartment regularly; and how didn’t I notice the kind of messed up person she was all that time.

She was all sweet and flirting and shit a week or so ago and now she’s doing the exact same thing with him! The cameras are capturing them perfectly: every laugh, every exchange of a knowing look or nod, ever smack to his arm when he tells a joke. But what bothers me most is the many times he’s wrapped his arm around her to pull her closer. Not just for pictures, but just because the fucker felt like it! And Y/N doesn’t seem to mind it at all.

“They have been the talk of the town recently, so while they could just be adding fuel to the fire, they could also have been caught by the flame and ‘caught feelings’ as they say. Regardless these two are a view we’d like to see more often.“ The other reporter says and that’s the final straw.

In one swift motion I turn the TV off and throw the remote across the room. It hits the wall and falls to the ground in several pieces, broken by the force of the impact. Just like I am broken by the force of the impact of these news. I don’t know which is worse: the fact that I fell for her and almost let her know it; the fact that she’s just another member of the club I don’t want anywhere near my life; or the fact that I can’t believe it.

Yeah that’s right - one foolish part of me refuses to believe that’s she’d do such a thing. I think that’s the same part which is still in awe of her so you can bet I ignore that part the majority of the time.

She is just another one. Not the one. Having been hurt before doesn’t mean she won’t hurt me or anyone else she’s gonna be with. Hurt people hurt people.

And damn has she hurt me, probably without knowing a damn thing. How selfish can you be, Y/N? How selfish can you really get? And how much am I going to allow you to hurt me?

* * *

“Thank you so much, Andrew. I would’ve died on the spot of anxiety if I was on my own.“ I say to my best friend who is currently sitting next to me on a park bench, in a tux, eating a cheeseburger. I too am still in my gown and am also gorging on a cheeseburger of my own.

“Don’t mention it. Us anxious people need to stick together.“ He bumps his shoulder against mine, stealing a small genuine smile from me, “Plus I couldn’t not come with you. You know how much I like a good rumor.“

I scoff, “Of course you do, but then again there was no need to add to what the media has already made a whole-ass ship out of.” I roll my eyes and take another bite. My appetite hasn’t been in its best condition so I’m only eating this under Andrew’s orders. I have no idea how people can ship us romantically, he’s the definition of an older - and very bossy - brother to me. I wish I could tell each and every single one of those girls who hate me because I’ve ‘stolen their man’ that I’d most likely be their sister in law rather than man snatcher, seeing as how my relationship with Andrew is so sibling-like.

That’s because we’re too alike, no one gets that. People play the ‘opposites attract’ car more often than I consider rational. But then again when they see a couple like Andrew and I - who are basically the same person in different bodies - they suddenly think we’re super compatible. Trust me, we’re not. And everyone who’s been on set with us will tell you the same.

“What can I say...“ he shrugs, smirking at me, “I like the fun. I bet Becca doesn’t though.“

I can’t help but huff. Andrew is the only one I’ve ever openly expressed my frustrations with Rebecca to. He was super helpful on the subject, seeing as how he can relate - many partners of his have tried to use him, some of which even succeeded. He’s more than qualified to school me on the topic but it turned more into sharing bad experiences. One of which was that instance back at Corpse’s apartment.

“And neither does Corpse I suppose.“ As though he’s read my mind, he pokes the hurt spot, pouring salt in the wound causing me to visibly cringe as though the pain was physical - because it was, I felt it in my chest and in my gut, a sharp stab of guilt and regret.

Why did I let it come to that? Why did I let us get so close? How did I not think of the consequences?

“I don’t care if he does or doesn’t.“ My hand automatically reaches for the pocket of the jeans I’m not even wearing in search of a cigarette. Not that I’d be able to light one even if I had them on me - Andrew would smack it out of my hand before I could even take a single puff.

He has the audacity to laugh, “You’re such a bad liar, Y/N.”

That’s all he needs to say really - that’s enough to make me feel seen and understood. Though that’s not always a good thing. I often times wish he couldn’t read me so well. Better said: I wish I didn’t let myself be so readable, you know. I’m just glad he’s the one who sees me because if it were anyone else they’d use this vulnerability of mine against me. I’m well aware that it’s a weakness, a really inconvenient one, but damn it I can’t get rid of it. I feel like I’ll be less human if I lose it. Everyone’s allowed to be vulnerable, some just are lucky enough to choose who they’ll be vulnerable around. I’m lucky enough to to have a choice, not so lucky in the people I choose to trust. Guess that’s not a luck thing, it’s just my inability to decipher whether a person is worth all the pain and torture of coming clean to them or not. So far many people have burnt me but two stick out in particular - Becca and Corpse. Corpse especially, which is the odd thing considering he hasn’t even wronged me in any way. At least not yet.

“Your phone’s vibrating.“ Andrew says, pulling me out of my overflowing head when he hands me my phone which I handed to him because of my dress’ lack of pockets.

“Thanks.“ I mutter through a sigh as I take it from him, checking the notification I’ve gotten.

My stomach drops: it’s a message from Corpse.

“Hey I saw you are in LA but we have a stream tomorrow, will you still be participating?“

Before I can reply, he sends me another message.

“I know you’re probably very busy but we get the most viewership on the streams when you’re in them so....“

I’ve probably been staring at my phone screen for longer than I thought since Andrew felt the need to make sure I was still breathing: “Hey, you ok? You look terribly pale.” I can barely hear him let alone reply. I can’t hear my own thoughts to know what to reply to him. “Y/N, you’re scaring me.”

I’m scaring myself too, Andrew. I’m scared too. I’m scared of how broken my picker has become. I almost kissed this guy! I almost entrusted all my thoughts, hopes, wishes and goals to him! What the fuck was I thinking?! Well, at least I know what he was thinking about - viewership. Likes, subs, views, publicity. The more eyes on the stream the better for him and everyone else. I genuinely want to applaud him, no one has been so direct about using me before. I was in a relationship with Becca for almost a year before I accidentally found out what she had been doing the whole time. No one’s ever smacked me in the face with this much honesty. It’s bittersweet really.

I want to laugh, I want to cry, slap myself across the face, slap him...I want to do so much, but all I can do now is sit in silence and think of how I could be so stupid.

He’s just another one, how did I not see that? How do I never see it until it’s too late? Why is one part of me still screaming: ‘He didn’t mean it like that!’

AND WHY THE FUCK DO I WANT TO BELIEVE IT?

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eternalsimp · 3 years

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Cursed Fears (pt 2)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Smut

Word Count: 3703

Warnings: NSFW 18+, Aged up Megumi, mentions of violence, character death, swearing, use of female pronouns and anatomy, angst, slight praise kink, oral sex (f. receiving) Minors DNI.

Author Note: This is a sequel but it can be read as a stand-alone. pt 1 is up on my blog and pt 3 will be posted soon.

Megumi’s POV

Everything was dark and the smell of blood was overwhelming. I couldn’t tell where I was exactly, I knew I was in the domain of a special grade but I was sure I had gone home to y/n. Nobara, Yuji, and I had exorcised a second-grade curse and had called it a night. So where did this domain come from? How did I get here? I could swear I could hear thunder crack every now and then, but I can’t even remember if there was a storm when I was here with Yuji and Nobara. Where was Gojo when I needed him? I stumbled through the darkness blindly before I was met with a sight that made my heart drop.

Sukuna sat lazily on his throne, his red eyes trained on me in a predatory glare, sharp nails tapping impatiently on his temple. “It's about time you showed up, I thought I was going to have my fun without you. Now that you’re here, we can continue.” Sukuna’s mouth pulled into a sinister grin as I stared at the limp figure at the foot of his throne.

“Y/n…” her name came out as barely a whisper, my throat felt like it was closing up. She was at home studying for her statistics class, I know she was. I shook my head violently before pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes. This isn’t real.

“What’s wrong little sorcerer? Not feeling so tough anymore are you? You were so confident you could take me on earlier, so come on, take her back. Until you do I may have to play with her a little bit more, show her that she was never safe from me.” Sukuna reached down and pulled her unconscious body up into his lap. He held her jaw with one hand and turned her face so I could see. I wanted to scream at him not to touch her, or to hurt me instead, but nothing came out. Every part of my body was frozen in place at the sight of her tortured body. Sukuna could see me struggling in his domain and smirked down at me. He slowly dragged his mouth up her throat and to the shell of her ear. “Time to wake up princess, our guest is here.” Sukuna squeezed her throat at the same time he nipped her ear and her eyes flew open to immediately fall on me.

“No, please let her go.” The words finally came but I still couldn’t move. She looked so scared, the person I love most is in danger and I couldn’t do anything about it. I forced myself forward a single step but it felt like I was sinking into the ground. Why can’t I move? “I’ll do anything you want, but please don’t hurt her.”

“I told you what I wanted, I told you to come and get her. Show me just how strong you are.” Sukuna taunted. With a firm grip on my girlfriend's jaw and his other hand traveling down her body, Sukuna was in complete control. I know I can’t use cursed energy or shikigami here or I would risk her becoming collateral damage, but I couldn’t stand still and do nothing.

“‘Gumi, help me.” Her voice was shaking, her entire body trembling. I wanted nothing more than to whisk her away to safety. Her eyes squeezed shut as Sukunas mouth attacked her neck and left dark bruises in its wake.

“Time’s running out kid, I’m starting to get bored.” Sukuna’s free hand began to snake over her legs, dragging his razor-sharp nails over the soft skin there, leaving angry red scratches behind. Tears began to fall freely from her eyes and I tried to force myself forward again to no avail. Whimpers and cries for help begin to fall from her lips faster, and god I feel like I’m in hell. All I can do is watch as she cries out in fear, heart cracking at every sound she makes. Finally, she says something that makes me feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest

“You did this to me, this is your fault.” My body felt numb at the sound of her broken words. All I can do is shake my head and beg, beg Sukuna for mercy, and beg her for forgiveness.

“Baby it’ll be okay, you’ll be okay. I’m so sorry.”

“You said you would protect me, why did you do this to me?”

“I’m sorry, I’m gonna get you out of here. Please believe me, my love.” I was on my knees before the king of curses now. So close I could pick up on her perfume that smells sickly sweet of roses, but the smell I adore so much was tainted with something else now.

Sukuna clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You know better than to make promises you can’t keep, right?” My whole body was shaking with fear and rage at the curse, but all I could do was bargain.

“Please, I swear I will do anything, just let her go.” I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her, pleading to just see her leave here alive. Sukuna’s nails dug deeper into her throat, drawing blood as it trickled down her neck and chest in small streams.

“I think I’d rather punish you and the brat for trapping me in this vessel. You get to watch as I kill her, and then I’ll switch out with him so he can see what he’s done.” Sukuna leaned down to face me. “This is what happens when self-righteous sorcerers need to learn their place, so don’t blame me for what happens next.”

Fear shot through my entire body at those words. I couldn’t help but scream loudly as Sukuna jerked her head and a loud, sickening crack filled my ears.

I shot straight up in bed as a crack of thunder rumbled through the apartment. My eyes were unfocused as I dragged myself towards the bathroom and a wave of nausea washed over me. I barely made it to the toilet before I was vomiting into it. My knees burned from where they hit the tile but all I can think about was the sound of her whimpers and begs for help ringing in my ears. I was vaguely aware of the shirt sticking to me with sweat as I tried to control my erratic breathing. Thunder cracked again, sounding eerily like the way her neck snapped in my nightmare and I was retching again.

The cycle continued for what felt like hours until I was left coughing and dry heaving. As the panic started to ebb away I noticed the presence of my girlfriend on the floor behind me, running her hands soothingly over my back, and lightly pressing her thumbs into my spine. She had her knees on either side of my waist and was resting her head between my shoulder blades. I reached up to flush the toilet before gently squeezing her knee to let her know I was okay. She wordlessly pulled my sweaty shirt over my head to let the cool air hit my back before lifting herself off of the floor and out of the bathroom.

I shifted my body so I could press my forehead against the hard plastic of the bathtub. After a couple minutes, she handed me a bottle of water and pressed a cold, damp cloth to the back of my neck. “I’m sorry I woke you up,” voice raspy from coughing and throwing up. This wasn’t the first time I had woken her with my nightmares, and I doubt it would be the last. She reclaims her spot on the floor behind me and continues rubbing my back.

“Don’t be sorry, I prefer to be woken up by you going to the bathroom than you throwing up in the bed anyway.” I can’t help but laugh at her teasing and we could both feel the unease begin to fade.

“Yeah, that's a good point. You’re too good to me, you know that?” I moved so that I was leaning back against her chest and she wrapped her arms around my shoulders protectively.

“Nope, I refuse to accept that statement because we are the perfect amount of goodness to each other.” I tilted my head back to rest it on her shoulder before pressing a quick kiss to her neck. I couldn’t help but wonder how I was lucky enough for Nobara to introduce the two of us. It was in the small, intimate moments like these that I knew I would happily go to my grave protecting her.

Reader’s POV

“Okay you know the drill,” you said to him as you held out your hands expectantly. He smiled as he placed both his hands in yours, palm up. You pressed one of his hands to your chest and the other to his so he could feel both of your heartbeats under his fingertips. The first time you did this he scoffed at how cheesy it was, but over the two years of living together, it became common practice for when he was trying to calm down after a nightmare. You didn’t like to press him about the horrors that plagued his dreams, knowing how reserved he was with his emotions, so you found your own ways to comfort him.

“See, we’re both okay. Do you wanna get up to go lay back down or do you need a second?” He shook his head and pulled himself up to sit in front of you again.

“No, I’m okay, but can we do the other thing too?” he asked sheepishly. He turned pleading eyes towards you, and how could you refuse him when he asked so nicely.

“Of course, whatever you need. You or me?”

He took a shuddering breath before whispering “you” so softly you almost didn’t hear it. Your shoulders slumped as that one word told you everything you needed to know. The other practice that became a common occurrence after his chronic nightmares was kissing the other person's phantom injuries. More often than not it was him kissing you, as you were usually the object of his nightmares, like tonight. He liked being able to physically see and feel that the wounds inflicted on you were in fact not real. This nighttime routine often led to some heavy makeout sessions, which then led to very soft and intimate sex.

“Okay baby,” You stand up and move to sit on the side of the bed while he brushes his teeth quickly to get rid of the gross taste in his mouth. While you wait, you find yourself tugging at the bottom of your shorts self-consciously as you shiver in anticipation. After a moment your boyfriend waltzed out of the bathroom and rested his hands on either side of your waist. He bent his head to capture your lips in a slow kiss. His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, silently asking permission to deepen the kiss and you happily oblige him. Your mouths move in a small fight for dominance but a firm hand on your thigh has him easily winning. Your hands trailed up to rest on his shoulders as he took your bottom lip between his teeth and bit down gently.

You gasp softly into his mouth and he brings one hand up to rest at the nape of your neck as he cradles your head protectively. He draws his lips down the side of your jaw, paying special attention to the spot behind your ear that never fails to have you melting into his hands. You tilt your head to give him better access to your throat, allowing him to deliver individual kisses to the spots where you likely had been hurt.

In a swift, fluid motion, he is pulling your tank top off of you and trailing sloppy kisses down your chest and stomach. You lean back onto your elbows as he runs his hands over your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You let out a shaky breath as he begins to kiss his way up the inside of your legs. “Just relax baby. I’m gonna take care of you.” He punctuated each word with a kiss or nip to the inside of your thighs, and you could feel the arousal pool at the pit of your stomach.

You forced yourself to make eye contact just in time to see a devious smirk grace his features. Before you could question it he is yanking down your shorts and blowing cool air onto your core. You yelp and instinctively try to snap your knees shut. He chuckles lowly to himself before tossing your shorts somewhere behind him. He brings his face back between your thighs to lick a long, hot stripe up your core. You gasp loudly and let your arms give out behind you. He reaches one hand up to where you are clawing at the sheets to intertwine your fingers together.

“My pretty baby is already so worked up and I’ve barely touched you. What a good girl.” He lowers himself back down to lap up the arousal dripping onto your legs before sucking your clit into his mouth. You arch into him and groan loudly which prompts him to hum triumphantly around the bundle of nerves. He moves his free hand down to expertly curl two fingers into you and starts pumping in and out at a steady pace. After a few pumps of his hand, he curls his fingers to find the spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

The combination of his mouth and fingers working you is dizzying and you can feel it pushing you closer to the edge of your climax. He could feel how close you were and began to move with more purpose, determined to make you cum more than once in the night. With the hand that isn’t intertwined with his, you reach down to tangle in his soft hair. “Wait, I- oh shit- I’m gonna cum.”

He removes the hand that was holding yours from you and brings his thumb down to rub circles into your sensitive clit. “Come on baby, I got you. You can cum for me.” He moves his mouth to rejoin his fingers at your slit to bring you closer to your high. A particularly hard press of his thumb has you crying out in pleasure and grinding desperately against his face. He removes his fingers from you and replaces them with his tongue to help you ride out your high. He greedily drinks up your release until you are weakly nudging him away.

“Do you want me to stop?” He looked up at you innocently, which was contradicting when you remembered the things he was doing mere seconds prior.

“No, I just want to feel more of you.” You could feel a hot blush creep up your body at the realization that he was still halfway clothed, while you laid completely naked in front of him. His brain seemed to process this at the same time because he was quickly ridding himself of his sweatpants and grey boxers.

His hard cock thumps softly against his toned stomach when he stood again and you were having a hard time not staring at the man in front of you. He wasn’t bulky, but the muscles that rippled underneath taut skin were nothing to sneeze at. He glanced up and caught your stare, and returned it with a cocky smirk. “See something you like?”

“I sure do,” you flashed an innocent smile as you sat up and palmed his erection. He gasped at your sudden boldness and leaned onto the bed for support. At this proximity, you were able to tug his earlobe between your teeth and bite down gently. “Please baby, I want you so bad.” Those words snap him back into action and he’s crashing his lips against yours again.

He moves you back up the bed and crawls over your body. He braces his forearms on either side of your head and experimentally grinds his hip against yours. You let out a soft “please” that comes out whinier than you intend. You lean your face up to give him a soft kiss before he reaches down to line himself up with you and slowly presses the tip inside. He shallowly thrusts to slowly work into you, mumbling praises against your skin as he moves deeper.

You can’t help but wince at the stretch his cock always brings you, which would border on outright painful if he didn’t feel so good. Your head falls back against the bed, clawing at his back to try to find something to ground yourself. He glances down to where he is buried deep inside you before pressing his forehead to yours. “I know sweetheart, it's almost there. You’re- fuck- doing so good for me,” he reassures as he presses a soothing kiss to your temple.

When he finally bottoms out he stills his hips to let you get comfortable and adjust to him. He takes this opportunity to pepper your face and chest in kisses and returns one of his hands to your neck where it cradles your head. You bring one of your hands to his hair to tug gently before rolling your hips against him, eliciting a breathy moan from him. “You can move baby, I’m okay.”

He nods and gives a couple of slower thrusts before setting a steady pace. He opted for slower deep strokes which made you feel every inch of him as he thrust into you. His thrusts have his cock brushing all the right spots inside you, and all you can do is gasp and moan for him while clinging to his shoulders. “Megumi, please,” you aren’t even sure what you were asking for. The pleasure has your head spinning and unable to make complete thoughts.

You can tell he is getting closer to his own climax because his thrusts are getting progressively faster and he is getting more vocal. “God, baby you’re taking me so well.” He hooks one of your legs around his waist and the new angle lets him hit your sweet spot with every roll of his hips. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you feel another climax approaching, and Megumi picks up his pace again.

“Is my pretty girl gonna cum for me again?” You bury your face into his shoulder and nod. He moves one of his hands to play with your clit to push you over the edge. You arch into him and let out a strangled moan as your orgasm washes over you. You’re sure you’re leaving deep scratches across his back as you grip him tighter. His hips stutter as you clench around him and he gives a few more sloppy thrusts before he’s cumming too with a loud groan. He unconsciously rocks into you lazily as you both come down from your highs.

“Are you okay baby?” He kisses your forehead and strokes your side to try and bring you back to reality. You nod again, not quite trusting your voice yet. He chuckles and slowly pulls out to not overstimulate you. You squirm at the uncomfortable stickiness between your legs but he’s already moving to the bathroom to grab stuff to clean you up.

When he comes back out he runs a warm cloth along the inside of your thighs and quickly over your center, which has you wincing at the sensitivity. When he's done he pulls out a pair of your pajama shorts and one of his loose shirts for you to wear. He helps you slip the clothes on and tugs his boxers back up before climbing back into bed with you.

You stand up to crack open the window next to the bed before laying with your back against his chest. The cool air from the rain seeps into the room and he mutters a “thank you” into your shoulder, surprised that you remember he runs hot for the rest of the night when he has a nightmare.

The clock on the bedside table shows that it's about 5:30 in the morning, so you estimate that he woke up roughly at 4. “Do you feel okay enough to go back to sleep?” You feel him shrug behind you and you scoot closer to him, pulling one of his arms over your waist to lace your fingers together.

“I don’t know. I should but…” you hear his voice trail off and nod in understanding. He always has a hard time falling back asleep on nights like these. He warned you about his chronic nightmares shortly before moving in together and confessed that he’s had them since he started high school at Jujustu Tech. However, you take small comfort in the knowledge that since living together they’ve gotten less frequent, and his reactions to them have become far less violent.

“Will you feel better if one of your shikigami sleeps in here? Just so you know that nothing will happen.” He considers it for a minute before tugging his hand out of yours, circling his other arm around your waist, and folding his hands to summon his divine dog. Its head pokes out of the shadows under the window. You pat the empty spot on the bed and it jumps up excitedly before laying down and letting you scratch behind its ears.

Megumi chuckles behind you and shakes his head. “You just wanted the dog on the bed didn’t you?” He reaches over to ruffle its soft fur as it dozes off.

“Checkmate,” you crane your head to place a kiss on his cheek before settling back against him. “Now will you please try to go back to sleep? I don’t want to nag you but realistically you can’t function on only two hours of sleep.”

“I’ll try but I can’t make any promises you know.” He tucks his chin on top of your head and relaxes around you. You hum in acknowledgment before slowly drifting back to sleep.

#fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen #megumi x reader #jjk #megumi fic #megumi smut #anime #fanfic #megumi fluff #megumi x y/n

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ninzied · 3 years

Photo

into the woods

based on the prompt: you know that scene in TWD where shane is being all cute and kissing up lori’s stomach? that but make it kastle.

rated m. 3k.

“She should’ve been back by now.”

Frank scours the tree line along their campsite, as if she’ll walk out of there any second. She hadn’t taken much more than a toothbrush with her, only a hand towel and a bottle of water to rinse off. How much longer does she need with those things?

“You worry a lot,” Sarah remarks. She doesn’t look up, measuring out coffee grounds for their pour-over stand. “For someone who’s ‘just friends’ with her.”

“Remind me again why I agreed to this weekend,” Frank says with a scowl.

“I could use a refresher myself,” says David. He’s emerging from their tent, zipping it back up the side before stretching. “From what I recall, Karen’s the one we invited. You’re the one who chose to tag along.”

Frank arches an eyebrow at their surroundings. “Thought my invite was implied.”

David makes a protesting sound. “You don’t have a monopoly on manly activities, you know.” He comes over to Sarah, drops a kiss on her forehead in greeting before taking one of the lawn chairs next to her. “I can camp. I can do camping. I’m a survival guy too, remember?”

“Ignore him,” says Sarah. “He gets grumpy before his morning coffee.” She leans over their fire and removes the kettle of water, which has just started to boil.

“There’s one thing we have in common,” says Frank. He nods his head toward the tent David vacated. “Kids still down for the count?”

“Both of them out like a light,” David confirms. “That ghost story Karen told them last night worked a little too well.”

“Trouble falling asleep?” asks Frank, not unsympathetically. “Or was it nightmares?”

“Leo came up with a sequel, actually,” says David. “Which she insisted on recounting in very vivid detail. None of us really slept after that.” He scrubs a hand tiredly over his eyes, but he’s also grinning a little, like he can’t help but be proud of this fact.

Karen would be proud too, Frank thinks, and pictures the smile he’ll get from her later.

“How about you?” Sarah asks Frank, her tone perfectly, deceptively innocent. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine,” says Frank.

The look Sarah gives her husband is a lot subtler than the one she receives in return.

Frank clears his throat. “You two got something you want to say?”

David shrugs. “Only that it’s a pretty small tent you and Karen are sharing.”

“We made do,” says Frank.

Truth be told, though, David’s not wrong.

Karen had borrowed the tent from Nelson, who, as it turned out, hadn’t gone camping since he was about ten years old. It had been a tight squeeze—that palpable warmth in the thin sheets between them, the soft little sighs Karen let out in her sleep, had all been nothing short of torture to Frank.

But the Liebermans are on a need-to-know basis only.

David is opening his mouth to say something else when Sarah interrupts him. “Here,” she says, “drink this,” and presses a tin of steaming black coffee into his hands.

“Guests first,” says David, but Frank’s already standing.

“I’m good for now,” he says with a wave of his hand. “I’m just gonna go for a walk.” He stoops down, checks for the blade inside of his boot.

“Karen’s a big girl, you know.” David takes a sip of his coffee. “I just don’t see how this is going to win you any points in her book.”

“Oh, let him go,” Sarah chides. “He’s not going to rest easy otherwise.” She calls cheerfully after Frank, “Tell Karen that coffee will be waiting when you guys get back, all right?”

…

If anything, Frank figures he could use the time away from the others.

Last night had been exhausting, with the Liebermans up for about half of it, and then Karen so close yet just out of reach. He’d behaved himself perfectly well, but the ache of all that longing for more hasn’t left him, and so he tries to walk it off instead.

Frank steps into the trees, the morning sun filtering through in soft, muted patches of light. They’re barely into September, but the leaves here have already started to pack themselves down into the ground. It makes his job easier, tracking which way Karen has gone.

She can take care of herself; he knows that. But she knows he’s going to worry. It’s something that they’re working on, meeting each other halfway. Still, Frank reasons that there’s a time and a place for these kinds of concessions, and out here in the woods is not going to be one of them.

Frank has been walking for about ten minutes when he steps into a snug little clearing, and suddenly, she’s there.

“Karen?”

She’s a few yards ahead of him, lounging with her back against the trunk of a large maple. She’s resting her arm on one of its thick, gnarled roots, and she—

She has her nose in a goddamn book.

It’s a small paperback of Agatha Christie. One of those rare finds that she’d unearthed from the half-price bin down the street from Frank’s place. It’s where she’d gotten her inspiration for the ghost story she told them last night.

Frank knows this because she’d read it aloud to him three nights ago. The book hasn’t left her side of the bed, until she packed it for this trip. She must’ve tucked it into her hand towel before leaving their tent earlier.

Karen glances up as he approaches. She doesn’t seem remotely surprised to see him there. In fact, she’s looking at him with a teasing kind of impatience, like he’s kept her waiting, and—

Oh.

He’d been planning to steal a kiss or two at most from her before they headed back to camp, but she clearly has more than that on her mind.

Always two steps ahead of him, his girl, and he wonders if that isn’t one of the things he loves most about her.

“Frank,” she greets him, lightly admonishing. She puts the book down. “What took you so long?”

She stands as he strides over to her, a disbelieving smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

“This what I think it is?” he asks her. He palms the sides of her rib cage, walking her slowly backward until he’s pinned her to the tree.

“Mm.” She winds her arms a little slyly around him. “You know solving murder mysteries always gets me in the mood.”

“You mean like last night?” He leans down, capturing her mouth in a kiss. Her hands are already pulling at the hem of his sweatshirt, gliding up his body and tugging the fabric over his head.

“I’ve been dying here, Frank.” Karen gasps out as his mouth moves over her jawline. “I thought they’d never fall asleep.”

“I know. Fuck.” Frank snakes his hands beneath her clothes and under her bra, cupping her breasts with a small but satisfied groan. “Couldn’t take it either. Wanted you so bad.” He remembers the reason for the Liebermans’ insomnia, and the kiss he presses to Karen’s collarbone contains the definite edge of a smile.

“What?”

“Tell you later,” he murmurs, stepping back and pulling her with him. With the toe of his boot, he carefully rearranges his sweatshirt over a stretch of some soft-looking moss.

Karen breathes out a laugh, nudging a kiss to his ear as she asks him, “Exactly how much time do you think we have?”

“Enough,” he says, and lowers her onto his sweatshirt.

He kneels over her, nosing her shirt out of the way as he deposits open-mouthed kisses up her bare stomach. He pauses over her belly button, circling his tongue there. She tenses all over with a sigh of content before shrugging her top off and tossing it to the side.

He licks a trail up her body, feeling the hitch in her breath as he reaches her rib cage. When she clasps his shoulders, he goes willingly, rising and settling himself over her. Their mouths meet, lips parting instantly, deepening the kiss.

“Mm—” Karen moves her hips into his, chasing the friction between them. She’s in a thin pair of leggings, his erection pressed up against the junction of her thighs. He can feel the heat of her, even through his sweatpants, and it only fuels his arousal, has him aching to be inside her right now.

He groans a little, breaking the kiss for a moment. There’s a few breathless seconds of them fumbling with each other’s clothes, of Frank’s vision tunneling out when she reaches down and grasps him.

Christ.

He pumps himself in and out of her hand, bending over to kiss her again. Their tongues slide together, and he swallows the sound of her cry as he slips two fingers down, feeling how wet she is for him.

His mouth falls to her neck, sucking kisses to her pulse point as he replaces her hand with his. He strokes himself before rubbing the full length of his dick up against her, pressing down into her clit with each pass back and forth.

She arches against him with a throaty little sigh. He loves this kind of foreplay with her—the liquid heat of anticipation, the throbbing ache of that sweet almost just on the other side of this moment.

And fuck does he love watching her this way, too. The soft, breathy exhales, the swell of her breasts as she writhes beneath him. The way she bites her lip, and moans.

“Can you come like this?” he asks her, voice roughened with desire. He knows he won’t last long inside her, and he wants her to finish for him at least once.

“Yes.” She’s moving her hips in tandem with his, finding just the angle she likes, the right press and release to send her over the edge into orgasm. “Yes—oh, Frank—yes—mmm—”

She shudders beneath him, her eyes squeezing shut as her mouth falls open in a silent, rapturous oh.

He kisses gently up and down her throat as she descends from her high, slowly relaxing back into him. Frank’s trying to breathe through his own need for release when she threads her fingers through his hair, coaxing his mouth back to hers.

He slides into her slowly, the air between them going shallow as they take a moment to adjust. In some ways, entering her is always going to feel like it’s the very first time, new and yet so familiar. Like the act of loving this woman comes from a place that goes deeper than memory.

Their mouths move together, unhurried, as he pulls out and sinks back in. She clutches his shoulders, pulling him closer. Each thrust of his hips has his body shifting up against hers, and he savors every inch of it, the feel of skin on skin. He cradles an arm around her head, moving his other down to slide a hand up the back of her thigh.

It has him going deeper, and she clenches around him, spine arching back. Fuck. Fuck, she feels incredible, like some kind of fever dream. Her mouth is so very warm on his, their tongues entwined, their kisses splintering apart on a gasp before they’re coming back together.

For these few blissed out moments, this is all that there is. The two of them wrapped into each other, all that soft, pale skin beneath his hands, the little moans she’s letting out as he pounds and pounds into her. It’s rougher than usual, but she only pulls him closer, hooking a leg around his waist and rolling her hips up to meet his.

Heat unfurls down low in his belly, pleasure clenching up his spine. “Karen—fuck, I—” He buries his face into the crook of her neck, trying to hold off for her as long as he can.

She turns into him, mouth finding his ear. “I’m close,” she breathes. “I’m close. It’s okay. Just—ooh—”

She cranes her head back with a soft, keening sound, and he wraps his hand over the side of her neck, kissing up her jawline. He rides her through her second orgasm, and then his own pleasure builds to his breaking point, and he’s coming apart.

Karen’s arms are around him when the strongest waves have subsided, leaving behind the small, lingering shivers. He finally collapses against her, boneless and spent, simply breathing her in for long seconds.

“Fuck.” He brushes his mouth over her shoulder, nudging her bra strap back in place. “That was…” He grunts a little as she turns them onto their side, draping a leg over his waist.

“It was,” she agrees. She looks even softer in the sunlight from this angle, and Frank inches closer, threading his fingers through the golden glow of her hair. “Guess we should head back soon. Before they call an official search party on us.”

“Guess so,” says Frank. He tightens his arms around her, and she snuggles into him, neither of them making any real attempt to move. She gives him a kiss, long, and sweet, and so indescribably tender that he could put down roots into this moment, never let it go.

Finally, with a small sigh of concession, Karen shifts up onto her elbow. She reaches behind him for something, retrieving the bottle she’d brought with her.

She bends down to kiss the crease between his brows, and smiles. “Water?”

…

They walk back to the campsite hand in hand.

Sarah’s cleaning up from breakfast, a thermos of coffee and a full plate of bacon, eggs and toast set aside for them.

“David took the kids down to the lake,” she tells them without turning her head. “They wanted to wait for you, but I told them you’d see them when you got back.”

“’Course,” says Frank, feeling a little pink in the ears. “Yeah. Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you stay behind for us.”

“It was no trouble,” Sarah says breezily. Then, still with her back turned to them, she adds, inscrutable, “Better me than David, I will tell you that.”

She’s still stacking some plates, so Frank sneaks a last kiss to Karen’s temple before he releases her, making his way over to some much-needed coffee. He takes a long drag as Karen goes to help Sarah, the two of them falling into easy conversation about Leo, her writing ambitions, how absorbed she’d been around the campfire last night.

He doesn’t interrupt them, except to come over with the plate of food for Karen. Predictably, she reaches for the coffee instead. “I’ll have something in a bit,” she says, “promise,” and he gives her a look, but decides not to press the issue with Sarah standing so shrewdly nearby.

At one point, he glances up from a piece of bacon just as Sarah reaches over, and plucks part of a leaf from Karen’s hair. Sarah lets it go without so much as a comment, simply continuing on wherever they’d left off.

Later, Sarah passes by Frank as they’re getting ready to leave. “I think there are grass stains on the back of your sweater,” she mentions to him, almost conversationally, and he hesitates a moment before grabbing a hoodie to change into.

He pulls out the sandwich he’d made from their breakfast and passes it over to Karen on the walk, in exchange for the thermos of coffee. His hand instinctively finds the small of her back every time a rock or large root juts up into their path, and after Karen’s done eating she takes his hand instead, twining their fingers together.

If Sarah’s feeling smug about it, she doesn’t let it show—much.

Leo tackles them both as soon as they’ve made it to the lake. “Hey, Pete!” Then, as if she can’t hold it in any longer, she brandishes a notebook and says, “Karen, I have the best idea for a story tonight.”

“Honey,” Sarah starts, with an amused kind of warning in her tone.

“Don’t worry, Mom,” says Leo, looking confident. “This one’s not nearly as scary.”

“Tell me,” says Karen, unable to suppress a smile.

Leo starts to tug her away when she pivots back on her heel a little, and says to Frank matter-of-factly, “By the way, you probably don’t want Zach to see you two holding hands.” She looks meaningfully out onto the water, where Zach and their dad are focused enough on their lines not to have noticed them all there yet.

“Leo Lieberman,” Sarah scolds gently as Frank exchanges a bemused look with Karen.

“He’s too young to find out what heartbreak feels like,” says Leo sagely. “Sorry, Mom. I know you told him she’s already been spoken for. But as his big sister, it’s my job to look out for him.”

“Fair enough,” says Karen, giving Sarah a wink. There’s a wistful quality to her smile now, her gaze soft on his when Frank squeezes her hand. She clears her throat, and gestures down at Leo’s notebook. “Now let’s see what we’re working with here.”

…

Their tent isn’t quite big enough to fit them in lengthwise, so they’re turned slightly sideways, Frank spooning her as they drift off to sleep. He’s hard against her rear in the morning, but they both do their best to live with it, Karen pressing a chaste little kiss to the corner of his mouth as they’re getting dressed.

David’s on coffee duty, and Frank lends a hand as Karen folds herself up in a chair and reads to them the morning headlines on her phone.

It’s slow, and quiet, and so easy that Frank almost forgets they’re not home. Karen hums out a thank you when he brings her some coffee, stooping down to brush a kiss to her forehead.

“Here you go, sweetheart.”

And it’s like any other morning, except this one has David staring at them like he can’t decide what has just happened, and just how long it’s been happening for.

“Blanket?” Karen offers, trying not to look too amused, as Frank drags a chair close to hers. She tosses it over them, and he takes her hand before leaning over to steal a sip of her coffee.

“Did you know about this?” David whispers urgently to his wife when she steps out.

“Know about what, honey?” asks Sarah, kissing his cheek as he frowns at her. “Why, did you see something?”

“You mean other than the obvious?” He gestures at Frank, who’s leaning in to whisper something to Karen. In his periphery, a look of recognition is dawning on David’s face with almost comical slowness. “Shit. You’re right. It was really obvious, wasn’t it.”

Sarah pats him on the shoulder. “So, what are we doing for breakfast today?”

And just like any other morning, Frank feels everything outside of this moment fade, his world narrowing to the small, private things—the warmth of Karen’s hand in his, the glances they steal at each other, and the way she bites her lip when she’s trying not to smile.

#kastle #kastle ff #kastlenetwork #thanks anon for the prompt!#and for waiting *checks watch*#2 months too long for me to finally get around to posting this #also there are no zombies here #though i will get around to finishing my walker au someday #!

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enigmatist17 · 3 years

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That Smile (Psychonauts 2)

PSYCHONAUTS 2 SPOILERS AHEAD I played the sequel on launch and have fallen in love with this series all over again, and Raz is still my baby <3 Anyways I may or may not have forgotten to post this, so have at it lol

-----------------------

Agent Sasha Nein was a lot of things, the brilliant scientist who danced around his morally questionable experiments. While many children idolized him from True Psychic Tales, the man was hardly ever approached when a child did actually meet him. The stories never captured his short demeanor, empty smirk when he would casually mention tossing children to a test in his mind, or lab that seemed like it held a lot of dark secrets.

Razputin Aquato was the first one to come back.

The child had caused a stir from the moment he had snuck into Whispering Rock, and after inviting him Sasha had expected the child never to return. Yet Sasha was surprised when he came back from Agent Cruller with his badge, grinning while bouncing in front of the brain tumbler. Raz had proved himself to be among the best students Sasha had ever trained, and it wasn’t until the whirlwind of not only knocking Oleandar back to his sense, and subsequently rescuing Grand Head Zanotto that Sasha had time to think about Raz.

The scientist had never been one for children, as strange as it was for him to be working at Whispering Rock during the summer was. He was more content with his test tubes, blinking consoles, and many experiments that would usually raise eyebrows of those on the ethically moral side of the community. Yet Raz had wormed his way into Sasha’s mind with ease, something that surprised the doctor.

Perhaps that’s why he was currently trying, for the first time in...ever, not to lash out at the newest interns and Raz’s family.

It had been a long day of questioning Loboto, and Sasha had originally set out for some fresh coffee at the lovely time of 2 am. The Motherlobe was quiet around this time, which suited the other just fine as he made his way down familiar hallways. Talking to anyone who wasn’t the few people who didn’t irritate Sasha was hard enough on his good days, doing so after failing time and time again with prying out Loboto’s secret would usually be enough to make him shunt people across the room. However, seeing a tired Raz sitting against a wall across from the intern’s sleeping quarters made him pause and approach the half-awake child.

“Razputin? What on earth are you doing outside this late at night?” Raz’s eyes shot open, and instead of the usual cherry and awkward explanations Sasha was accustomed to, Raz just sighed.

“I, uh, I got locked out.” The agent frowned, knowing that part of it was most likely still a hazing from the other interns that Sasha most normally would have ignored. Yet Raz had his family nearby, and this puzzled Sasha as he knelt down beside the child. Raz, after looking into those green goggles, seemed to have sensed what Sasha was going to ask because he just gave a shake of his head. It made sense, Raz probably was not expecting more of his family to come and see their son at the place he had escaped to, which probably added to the stress that radiated off of him in waves. Normally, Sasha would just give a strained pat on the head and quickly escape such a situation, but this time Sasha leaned forward and scooped the child up and into his arms. It wasn’t smooth, Raz jerked his head right up into Sasha’s jaw, and this nearly caused the scientist to fall back, but after adjusting his hold and standing up fully that the two just kind of...looked at each other. Raz looked so confused, suspicious, and exhausted, studying Sasha’s blank face for some sort of response to what he had just done.

“I’m going to get some coffee, and then return to my lab.” Sasha remains neutral as he starts carrying Raz down the hallway, merely adjusting his hold when the child slumps against him moments later. He’s asleep by the time Sasha finishes making his coffee in the cafeteria, letting out soft snores one has to strain their ears to hear if they weren’t a trained agent like the scientist. Sasha watches Raz silently, wondering why this child among the many he had trained over the years had made the agent care for them and their wellbeing. Was it the boundless optimism? The excitement of being allowed to earn a place as an agent? Or was it as simple as Sasha shared so much with Raz, and for once Sasha was branching out to trust and care for the other? It could be one of those things, it could be all of them. No matter the answer, the scientist didn’t much care as he carried Raz to his room to sleep, knowing full well of the interns watching with wide eyes. Raz was gone the next morning before Sasha could speak to him, and he didn’t seek the other out due to his own work.

It’s not until days later after Ford Cruller and the Psychic 6 (or rather 7, not that it mattered) had reunited to help defeat Maligula, did Sasha and Raz have the time. Sasha and Vodello were quietly sitting together on one of the balcony’s overlooking the mountains when the familiar shape of Raz’s balloon interrupted the view. Vodello held her free arm out to Raz, who wordlessly padded over to the agents and allowed himself to be set between them. For a while the three just sat together, watching the sun slowly inch its way down below the mountain line, Raz leaning against Milla while his legs were tucked up under his chin. At one point Sasha had shed his lab coat and draped it over Raz, wild red hair poking out being the only indication someone was underneath the cloth. Vodello was the next to carry Raz inside and to bed, Sasha watching Raz before taking up the couch to sleep that night. Call it sentimentality or intuition, he wasn’t surprised to feel Raz carefully join him on the couch, a quiet sniffle making Sasha gently put his arm over Raz and tuck him close.

“Thanks…” It’s such a quiet and strained voice, and Sasha feels his heart break for the first time in years.

“Sleep Razputin, we will work through this in time.” He can’t promise such a thing, he knows this, but right now he needs to be gentle, so he says them. Raz sniffles against before slowly falling still, and finally sleeps properly for the first time since he stepped foot in Whispering Rock. Sasha eventually sleeps as well, dreaming of future skills to teach Raz and how on earth he was going to break the news to Vodello.

Her quiet laugh in their mental link follows Sasha to sleep, and Sasha smiles to himself as he’s pulled into a pleasant dream.

#psychonauts #psychonauts 2 #mha spoilers #PN2 spoilers #I just love them???#Raz was my first video game child #and I still love him??? so much???

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steepgan · 3 years

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someone dear (iii) - d. ragnvindr x f!reader

PART I - PART II - PART III

FINAL PART!!!! also i hate this part the most because i definitely rushed it and i could feel myself losing steam for writing so i wanted to finish it asap LMFAO ALSO DILUC IS HELLA OOC IM SO SORRY I STARTED PLAYING GENSHIN LIKE SIX DAYS AGO IM RELLY REALLY SORRY LAFAHFOA#@*$@)*$

Today was payday.

“You look…” Charles made a face. “Vibrant.”

“I get paid!” you squealed.

“Oh, boy,” Charles said. “You know there’s more to life than money, [Name]. There’s knowledge. You could always learn more. There’s love. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with a significant other, honestly. There’s—”

You waved a dismissive hand. “I know all that already! I’m satisfied, Charles. It’s just not so bad to be financially secure while I’m at it. Money is the best thing ever!”

“Money is the root of all evil.”

“The root of all evil is buried deep within that chest of yours,” you accused. You picked up a clean rag and soaked it in a water basin. “You never let me have any fun on payday. Anyway, today there’s a new book being released, and I’ve been waiting for the sequel since forever.”

Charles nodded. “I think I know which book you’re talking about. Give it time and your librarian friend will have it in the library in no time.”

“That very librarian friend is coming today to hand-deliver the book to me.”

“Of course. Never once would you abandon your shift for books. Though, I think I’ve once seen you leave midway through the day because you saw a cat on the balcony while standing outside.”

“It was a cute cat,” you defended.

“You shouldn’t make friends with cats. They’re very picky and particular with whom they associate with.”

“Ah,” you said absentmindedly, “like Master Diluc.”

“[Name], that’s your boss.”

You deserved the reprimand. “Sorry. It’s not anything bad. I actually took your advice the other day and chatted with him a bit. He’s not as… cold as I thought, but he’s certainly as chilly as Snezhnaya at times.”

Diluc had been somewhat stubborn when you insisted on helping him. You didn’t understand. It was only natural to be there for other people; however, Diluc believed differently. He was right in some ways. Too much dependency would lead one to no good, but that was not your concern.

“Before comparing your employer to one of the coldest nations in Teyvat,” Charles said, “I nominate you to call for Patton a bit today. He’s coming in late ‘cause he’s wrapped up with something today.”

“Do you think me standing out there would do the tavern some good?”

“Try wearing a costume. Draws attention.”

“Right on. Let me see if there’s any maid uniforms in the back.”

As much as you worshipped your own looks on a daily basis, standing outside where Patton typically was took a toll on your body. But your mental health persevered. After all, you were getting paid today. Nothing could deter your smile.

You stood outside, calling out passing people with hopes of luring them in with Dandelion Wine. Diona, who worked at Cat’s Tail, stopped by to convince you to join her tavern. She was ultimately dedicated to sabotaging the traditional and rich wine industry of Mondstadt yet was doing rather poorly at it. You declined politely, as your job was the wine industry of Mondstadt.

Nimrod, one of the usuals, entered the tavern. He dodged his wife who condemned his drinking habits. He typically hung around Angel’s Share for the addicting wine. It was not strange to see him coming in and out of alleyways.

Not even the approaching Master Diluc could taint your spirits.

The approaching Master Diluc.

You’d recognize his hair and determined face anywhere. You were accustomed to seeing it, as you saw him often. You smiled and greeted him accordingly just before he entered the tavern. “Hello, Master Diluc. Have a good day today.”

“I will,” he said. “I assume today’s a good day for you, too.”

“Of course.”

Donna was giving him puppy-dog eyes around the corner, you saw, but she gave him puppy-dog eyes every day, so what was new? Diluc, the brooding bachelor bastard of Mondstadt, was the center of many ladies’ attention.

He was the center of yours because your paycheck was in his hands.

Days and weeks went by.

Because you knew Diluc’s secret and nighttime hobby, it wasn’t strange for you and he to grow closer. When he’d come back to the tavern, you arranged a nice meal for him to eat. Heroes needed plenty of food, you figured.

Sometimes, you’d eat with him in agonizing silence.

He made for mediocre company, but when it was late at night and you had nothing to do, he was a fine person to talk to. He kept his distance, preferring to sit a seat away from you at the bar, idly standing when you were sitting at a table. But you never felt alone on those nights.

Diluc came back injured sometimes, and as each night passed, he let you tend to his wounds pathetically before he went to see a doctor. You didn’t know if he was humoring your concern or if he seriously needed your help.

Even without you, he was doing just fine, but little by little, akin to a trickling stream, he began to rely on you. Another person’s trust was a heavy thing to carry, and Diluc’s trust was the weight of the entire world upon your shoulders. You feared that if you ever messed up, Diluc’s trust would be gone in a snap.

Diluc and you shared meals, which was nothing out of the ordinary now, but there was small conversation. Diluc, to your knowledge, never really participated in idle chatter, but he talked with you about the sights he’d seen around Liyue, the hub of business in Teyvat, and you retold jokes your friends had said and rumors about a certain person that were made just to pass time.

You could pull vicarious wonder when Diluc told you of the other nations. You’d venture there yourself, but your skills in the adventuring department were lacking.

You admitted that you were wrong about Diluc; where you had thought him cold and stoic, he was protective and brave. He treasured his work above nearly everything—to the point he overworked. In a way he was somewhat like you. A little different, though. A little stranger. A little better.

Diluc had grand aspirations and was bold personified. You, too, had something to live for, but it wasn’t as great as his. You liked the little things; you liked the dog who wagged his tail whenever you passed in hopes of you giving it a treat; you liked shopping with your friends; you liked reading new books and joking around with Lisa.

You and Master Diluc seem to complement each other, that’s all, Charles had said then.

“Charles, you’re insane,” you said, pushing Charles’ shoulder. “It’s never going to work. Patton would never agree to putting on the maid dress.”

“And if we bribe him?” Charles asked.

Diluc was standing on the other side of the bar, a brow quirked and a smile lapping at his lips. His arms were crossed, and as much as he tried to seem intimidating, he looked like a friend to you. Before, you would have seen him as judgmental and indifferent, but the Diluc before you was someone who you knew better.

“How much do you think we should give Patton? Maybe we need to sort into bigger pockets.” You peered at Diluc.

Charles said, “What—do you think Master Diluc is willing to put on such a uniform?”

You laughed, and Diluc was looking at you. He didn’t look upset at all. His face was calm, and his pretty cupid’s bow lips were drawn in an amused smile. Oh, he was gorgeous—and upon that thought intruding your headspace, you nearly stopped laughing.

Sometimes Diluc would bring you small trinkets from the winery. You once brought up you wanted an owl statue to put on your balcony to attract other owls (though you were sure that wasn’t how nature worked), and Diluc, sure enough, gave you an owl statue around the size of your torso.

“Master Diluc,” you said. “What is this?”

“An owl statue.”

“Gee, wow! I thought it was a penguin.” You tentatively patted the top of its head. “What’s it for?”

“You,” he said. “I had it laying around the winery.”

It provoked thought in you. What sort of person had an owl statue laying around? You felt the need to give Diluc something back, but what did you have to give him? So that very night, you took him outside of Mondstadt so you could capture a Mist Flower Corolla for your friend.

Typically, you wouldn’t take your employer out on an errand, but you were done with work, so it wasn’t Master Diluc. It was just Diluc. Diluc looked like he wanted to say no to you because he didn’t really devote his time into something so trivial, but you insisted.

“If you needed it that badly,” Diluc said, “you could have asked me. We have plenty near the winery, and I can take care of them easily.”

“It’s not that,” you said, watching an Ice Flower bloom and freeze the water around it. “It’s about the adventure. The message.”

“And what’s this message you speak of?”

“It’s the message of ‘hey, I nearly froze my ass off to get this flower for you, but I care about you enough to risk frostbite.’”

“How… kind of you, [Name].”

You and Diluc spent all night catching enough Mist Flower Corollas for your liking. You wanted a bouquet, and you had a bouquet at the end of the night, at the expense of Diluc’s time and your sleep. You carried the bundle in your hands happily.

Diluc’s fire skills came handy, and it wouldn’t be a lie if you said you brought him along just for it. You liked his personality and his friendship, of course, but his fire skills were a… plus!

On the nights where it was just you and he, Diluc sat nearer to you now. Diluc picked up Charles’ shifts more often and sat across from you whenever you were seated at tables. He sat next to you at the bar, entertaining you out of your boredom.

It wasn’t until one day, Donna of the flower shop was gushing about Diluc, and you felt uneasy. You’d known that Donna was incredibly fond of Diluc, but it never bothered you until now.

Of course, you brought it up to Charles, one of your closest confidants, only third to your bank account and Lisa.

“He likes you back, you know,” Charles said, playing with the tip jar. The coins clinked and clanked in there. “I can tell you that much, [Name].”

“Ewwwwww,” you moaned. “Talking to you about my problems is gross. Where’s Lisa? She’ll tell me the truth for sure. You only want me happy so I can clean the entire tavern for free again. You want me to cover your shift again?”

“Sure I do,” Charles said, “but what I’m saying is true, [Name]. He looks at you all funky.”

“Yeah, because I’m a funky gal.”

“Stop it.”

“Funky, funky, funky.”

“Please.” Charles sighed and set down the tip jar. “It’s like… you and he are weirdly connected. He looks at you a lot. He always looks at you whenever there’s a joke, just to see if you’re laughing, I guess. He must like your laugh. I think it sounds like a horse, personally.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. You loved talking to Charles. You loved money. You loved your friends, and you loved your happiness. You loved—no, you liked Diluc. You didn’t know what to do when it came to him. Maybe if you kept away, your affections would find someone else to torment.

Like, for example, that newly hired boy next door that nearly killed his shop’s plants. He was a clumsy sort of cute.

But Diluc was not clumsy. He was meticulous and always got the job done. He took care of himself well, and on days he overworked, you made sure he took some time to rest.

You shook your head. You should stop thinking about Diluc for now and focus.

Yet it was always you and Diluc, and Diluc began to invade your thoughts. You brought up weaving flowers into his long hair, and Diluc always turned you down, saying that there wasn’t enough time for that.

You wished to brush Diluc’s bangs back and lightly kiss his forehead, if he was okay with that. Instead, you said to Diluc, you have a big forehead. No wonder you’re so smart.

Can we go back to the part where you said I had a big forehead? he’d retorted.

It wasn’t until nearly a month later did Diluc come to his shift with Mist Flower Corollas in hand and shyly handed them to you. There was a red hue on his cheeks, and his voice was small, afraid of rejection. His hair was tied back in a neater fashion, and his eyes were cast downward.

Become someone dear to me, he had said.

He wore fine clothes and a nervous expression. It was so out of character for Diluc. You felt as if you were watching a high school boy struggle to express his feelings. However, had Diluc walked into the tavern with a more open chest and chin up, he wouldn’t have been Diluc at all.

You liked Diluc as he was—somewhat closed off but kind enough. Mondstadt’s hero. A knight who donned glimmering red hair and a steel exterior. You wondered if Diluc had to prep himself before coming to you.

“Sorry,” he said although there was nothing to be sorry for, really. “I mean, if you don’t like the flowers—”

Hey, I nearly froze my ass off to get this flower for you, but I care about you enough to risk frostbite.

You took the flowers. “Oh, no, I love it. I really, really do, Master Diluc!”

“Just Diluc.”

“Diluc,” you corrected. “Do I get financial compensation if I become someone dear to you?”

“For starters, I could give you a Mist Flower Corolla every day,” Diluc said, “if that’s enough to satiate you.”

“And then?”

“In the evenings, I’d take you to Cider Lake to watch the starry night while you read those magazines of yours. We don’t need to talk. Just bask in each other’s company, really.”

You tried to fight the smile that was growing on your face. You set down the flowers on the bar counter before saying, “that’s it?”

“I’d let you weave flowers into my hair. I’d take you all over Teyvat, if that’s what you wished as well. I’d take care of you as much as you had taken care of me whenever I’m injured. I’d learn your jokes and get along well with your friends because they seem pleasant.”

You didn’t know Diluc was such a romantic. You dusted Diluc’s shoulder. “I would hold your hand.”

Diluc frowned. “This doesn’t feel very equal to me.”

“You want more?” you quipped. “I’d kiss your forehead. And then I’d read to you. That is, if you like fairy tales… Oh! And then I’d take you up to the mountains where we could see the constellations the best! I love constellations; they’re so pretty.”

“Truthfully,” Diluc admitted, “you don’t have to do anything. I think… I think I’d be satisfied if I just had your company.”

“Would you now? And what about Donna from the flower shop?”

“What about her?”

“Oh, nothing.” You pretended to think about Diluc’s proposal. “I have to say, I think I’m enchanted by your offer, Diluc. I’m going to have to say yes. I will become someone dear to you.”

PART I - PART II - PART III

#diluc ragnvindr #diluc #genshin impact diluc #x reader #genshin impact #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin impact x reader #me speedrunning the ending desperately:

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kacchanrawr · 3 years

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Things I want to see in the future of MHA

(not just post-war stuff, but also the entire series. Some of these are kinda self-indulgent)

1. Endeavor and Hawks’ judgment

I honestly don’t know if I want to see them punished or pardoned. I’m interested in both of those so I’ll just trust Horikoshi on that one. But anyways, there’s no way they aren’t getting shit for this.

2. Whatever the ‘fake heroes’ are gonna do after this

Going back to Stain’s ideology about fake heroes. I agree with parts of it, there are a lot of people that become heroes without the conviction. They get into it by treating it the same way as any other office job, not as a mission to be well, heroes. But I don’t agree that they should be killed or eliminated. Being a hero for money isn’t inherently a bad thing, it’s when you let greed take over you to the point that you forget what it means to be a hero. Some of those ‘fake heroes’ like Mt. Lady who was originally in it for the fame and money have grown to become real heroes. Others who really have zero conviction, will probably quit after facing this amount of despair, like the guy in chapter 296.

3. The Todoroki family’s image

How will everyone else see the victims of the situation, Natsuo, Fuyumi, Rei and Shoto after this? Especially Shoto. Now that his past is out in the public, that will probably affect his future as a pro. Would his classmates and peers see him or treat him differently after this? Like out of pity or sympathy?

4. The public’s backlash in general

How will the public start viewing not just Endeavor, Hawks, and the Todoroki family, but all heroes? Will they lose faith in heroes? We know they kinda already are when UA had a lot of backlash when Bakugo was kidnapped. UA as well, will it get shut down?

5. Bakudeku’s talk

I don’t think their relationship is actually gonna stay the same after this whole ‘my body moved on its own because I care for you and wanted to save you so I just got stabbed and risked my life for you and even told you to stop trying to be so selfless and do everything by yourself’ thing. All Might also did foreshadow that they were gonna talk soon. Maybe we could get the long awaited Bakugo apology scene ? Though it feels way too soon. And if Hori feeds us Bakudekus even more I think we’re just gonna combust.

5. Deku’s character development

His mindset and view of the world will probably be way darker and even more serious after this. I also want to see how Bakugo getting hurt for his sake and saying “don’t play hero all by yourself” will affect him. We know that he has decided to become a hero that wouldn’t make anyone worry about him when he had a flashback of his mom crying and being worried for him. He decided that the solution to that is to be stronger, but now maybe he can learn that selflessness doesn’t necessarily mean that he has to carry all the weight by himself. But then there’s the 4th user’s quirk that will probably push him to be even more selfless.

6. Ochako’s development

Please please PLEASE let this girl have more development. The way her fight against Toga ended, and her seeing the grievous side of being a hero? Probably a set up for her development.

7. Basically the rest of the kids’ development?

Obviously it’s not just the people involved in the fight against Shigaraki, or Ochako that are gonna view the world differently after this. I wanna see how they will deal with this. Kirishima and Mina will probably be some of the highlights. Also Momo, since Midnight meant a lot to her when she was the one that trusted Momo to lead their classes in the battle against Gigantomachia.

8. Aizawa and Present Mic dealing with Midnight’s death

Those two are especially highlighted amongst all of the other UA staff members because they have a past with her, as shown in vigilantes. We saw their anger and sadness about Shirakumo, what more when it comes to Midnight?

9. The villains dealing with their losses

Yes, know Toga went on a rampage after Twice’s death, but how will she and deal with it in the long run? How about losing Mr. Compress? How will Shigaraki react to both of those, and having the other Paranormal Liberation Front members like Geten captured? Not just emotionally, but how about the loss in terms of strength and power?

10. Prison break arc

People have been talking about this for years, maybe ever since we knew All for One was only imprisoned and not killed. We’ll probably see it happen next chapter. Will it cause the public to lose even more faith in the hero system? How will it affect the villains? Will AFO be their boss now, or will they resist him and stay loyal to Shigaraki?

11. All for One vs Shigaraki

Related to the previous point. We know Shigaraki really doesn’t want AFO bossing him around. They’ll probably have a fight. Maybe Deku and Shigaraki vs AFO? Then they’ll go back to fighting each other once the common threat is gone. This doesn’t feel very likely, but it could be a way of interpreting Deku’s “you looked like you needed saving” at the end of chapter 295.

11. Deku’s arms?

I don’t know if I want him to lose them and get prosthetics, or get healed by Eri. It would be great to see him experience a major loss, but ability-wise and emotionally? Not so good for him, though that’s kinda the point. Also he might not be able to use OFA in his arms anymore and I kinda don’t wanna see that. Even if he can, will he be able to use it at 100%? So far, we’ve seen that the level of technology in MHA aren’t enough to withstand 100%

12. Deku mastering One for All

I wanna see him consistently use 100% without injuring himself. I want to see him do more with black whip, float and the fourth user’s quirk. I’m also curious about the other three quirks left.

13. Power buff for everyone else

I kinda don’t wanna see the MC getting so ahead of everyone else, to the point that they leave everyone else in the dust. But I know that it’s been established way earlier on that Deku will surpass everyone in terms of strength. Even now, Bakugo, one of the strongest in Class 1-A could barely catch up with 30% OFA. But from his internal dialogue in chapter 293, I’m guessing he already had a quirk evolution when he saw Deku at the verge of death. I want to see more details on that though.

14. Everyone else’s reaction to Bakugo’s sacrifice

It’s gonna be a big thing for his character and all, but I don’t think this is gonna happen because of well, everything else being a mess. But maybe at least All Might’s?

15. Deku’s father

I don’t want him to be a really big famous, important figure, or someone involved in this whole AFO vs OFA stuff. It will kinda ruin Deku’s character of like, ‘just an ordinary boy that was lucky and so his character arc is to be worthy of that blessing’. If Deku’s father was someone like that, that would mean he was the fated or chosen one in the first place anyways? But what else can Deku’s dad be? I honestly don’t know.

16. All Might’s death

I see so many people complain that he should’ve died in Kamino, but I disagree because saving that big moment for later was actually a good decision. We know he’s gonna die, he has death flags everywhere. But I wonder how exactly he will die, when he will die, and how big of an impact his death will have.

17. The final battle

As in, the last battle of the entire series. Deku vs Shigaraki rematch, Ochako vs Toga, Shoto vs Dabi. And for Bakugo, well...... he doesn’t really have a villain nemesis? (Huh maybe I’ll talk about that some other time) But the best I could think of right now is Bakugo and Deku vs Shigaraki, like in Heroes Rising. If the Heroes Rising ending was the original series ending, maybe Hori was hinting that Bakugo and Deku will be fighting the final boss together?

18. Bakugo and Deku as a hero duo

Related to the previous point. Shipping lenses aside, I think there’s plenty of foreshadowing for that? Even if they wouldn’t officially be hero partners, I’m guessing they’re both gonna be important pillars. “Win to save, save to win”

19. The ending

I want to see how they will fix the broken hero society. I want to see Class 1-A as wonderful heroes. I want satisfying closure for the villains as well. What I don’t want to see is everyone getting married and having kids like Naruto, and those kids being the characters for a sequel series. I’m sorry but as much as I like a lot of the ships, I think that’s probably one of the worst endings possible. But a next generation sequel actually wouldn’t be that bad if the main characters were the established kid characters we already know and love, Eri, Kota, Katsuma and Mahoro. We can see through them how the new hero system/society works, and maybe all the smaller subtle stuff that they still need to patch up. Other than that, I don’t think there’s anything else good about it.

20. Deku becoming the greatest hero

Also very much related to the previous point but I only remembered it afterwards. We know it’s gonna happen, but how? Also notice that while Bakugo always says ‘number one hero’, Deku always just says ‘greatest hero’, which kinda aren’t the same thing. Maybe it’s just cuz I’m a Bakugo stan, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to just let the rival characters be content with number two? Either ‘Bakugo is the number one in ranking while Deku is the greatest hero’, or ‘Deku is the greatest and number one hero but their rivalry hasn’t ended and it’s a push-pull’ thing. Or just kill one of them (cough Bakugo cough) and it’ll be fine.

21. Other people finding out about OFA

I don't think it's going to stay a secret between Deku, Bakugo and All Might anymore. At the very least, the people involved in the fight against Shigaraki, like Shoto, Aizawa and Endeavor should be given an explanation on why Shigaraki was targeting Deku in particular. At worst, it becomes public news and Deku will now have to deal with a much a greater pressure of everyone expecting him to take up All Might's mantle. I'd rather go with the former, but the latter is also interesting I guess. Or if not those, they'd have to come up with a really good excuse.

Anyways that’s all I can think of for now? There’s probably way more at the back of my head. I’ll just edit whenever.

#mha chapter 296 #bnha chapter 296 #mha #my hero academia #bnha #bakudeku #bkdk #deku #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #uraraka ochako #todoroki shouto #todoroki family is screwed #endeavor and hawks #just random ramblings #mha theories #well not really but kinda

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letterboxd · 3 years

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Siren Song.

Undine writer-director Christian Petzold talks to Reyzando Nawara about modern-day mermaids, Tinder culture and finding the magic in life.

“Love stories always change. A kiss in Berlin 1933, for example, is not gonna be the same kiss in Berlin today, right?” —Christian Petzold

“If you leave me, then I’ll have to kill you.” Undine’s threat to her soon-to-be ex-boyfriend Johannes, after he has told her that he has met someone else, seems at first like an over-the-top reaction to the breakup. But it is a curse that Undine must fulfill, for she will become human only when she falls in love with a man who is doomed to die if he is unfaithful to her.

From Splash to Ponyo to The Lure to Song of the Sea, mythical water spirits, usually female, sometimes horse, have powered many film plots. The sixteenth-century European myth of Undine, in particular, lies behind many screen adaptations of Hans Christian Andersen’s The Little Mermaid, though the Danish writer was not the first to popularize the fairytale in his century. Decades earlier, around 1811, Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué of Germany had produced his romantic novella, Undine.

And it is to Germany—specifically modern-day Berlin—that writer-director (and fellow German) Christian Petzold transports Undine in his contemporary magical-realist take on the myth. There, she does not take the form of a mermaid or siren, but a beautiful young woman (played by Paula Beer), who works as a historian at a museum, where she guides tours of Berlin’s architecture and its reconstruction. The breathtaking cinematography, by regular Petzold collaborator Hans Fromm, crystallizes both the romance and the beauty of Berlin, while Petzold’s leads root every scene in reality, even as aquariums explode and giant catfish drift past.

Paula Beer and Franz Rogowski fire up the streets of Berlin in ‘Undine’.

Water may be the dominant element in Undine, but Beer and her co-star Franz Rogowski bring fire to their scenes together. Where Beer brings charisma and intensity to the titular role, Rogowski, as Undine’s new love interest, an industrial diver named Christoph, offers charm and sweetness.

In the frenzy of Parasite’s world domination, it is easy to forget that Petzold’s previous feature, Transit, appeared in two of our 2019 Year in Review lists—the 50 highest-rated films and the highest-rated international films—and was one of the top romance films of the 2010s. His riveting Phoenix is still his highest-rated film on the platform—one of many to center a complex female character in search of love at a time of personal and/or political crisis. In Undine, Petzold does it again, a welcome departure from other adaptations, including the Colin Farrell-starring Irish romantic drama Ondine (2009), that have mostly told the myth from the perspective of its male characters. Petzold also revises the fairytale, by giving Undine a chance to try to emancipate herself from her curse.

We recently had the pleasure of speaking with Petzold about his fascination with water, the magic of Berlin history, modern dating and of course, his ongoing collaboration with Beer and Rogowski.

Spoiler warning: this conversation contains plot details regarding the ending of Petzold’s film ‘Transit’ (2018).

Your movie is inspired by the myth of Undine, but you reinvent it by giving it some modern twists. How did the main narrative for the film come about? Christian Petzold: I think the idea of the story first came to me around twenty years ago when I had a project in Germany. It was together with Claire Denis and also Kathryn Bigelow, and everybody had to make a ten-minute short film for a project based on the museum near the Rhine River. I had written a little dialogue—oh, by the way, Steve McQueen was also part of the project—and it was the scene that we can see in the movie in the first few minutes where Undine’s boyfriend, Johannes, said that he doesn’t love her anymore and that he wants to leave her and she said to him, “If you leave me, then I’ll have to kill you.” Then she goes back to work, and later when she comes back to try to find him again, he isn’t there—so she knows that she has to kill him now.

Then when I made Transit with Paula Beer and Franz Rogowski, I told them after a very lucky and happy time of shooting, that I had written a short story and wanted to make a 90-minute feature movie out of it together with them. I wanted to keep working and making movies with them because we’ve had an amazing experience together in Transit. This was basically the start of how the movie and my collaboration with these two actors came about.

Paula and Franz are actors who didn’t come from the basic German acting school; their backgrounds are dance and theater. But they both have so much curiosity about cinema—when I met Paula for the first time, for example, she told me that she had bought 50 movies by Alfred Hitchcock and wanted to see all of them, and to me, this is the best kind of school to learn about cinema.

So to some extent, Undine is a spiritual sequel to Transit? Yes, you’re right. It has so many things to do with Transit. Marie, Paula’s character in Transit, finds her own death in the sea—she’s drowned. And Franz’s character, he’s waiting at the land, hoping that she may come back from the land of the dead. So I said to them, “Okay, the next movie is gonna be about a woman coming out of the sea and going to the land to search for love and also about this young man who is a diver, who is going underwater, to find love as well.” So to some degree, it’s a sequel, you’re right.

Beer and Ragowski in ‘Transit’ (2018).

You mentioned earlier that you had a great experience working with Paula and Franz in Transit. Can you tell us what it was about these two actors that you thought would capture the story you wanted to tell in Undine? Paula is a very young actor—she was 23 when we started Transit, and she was around 24 when we made Undine—but when you’re filming her, she has this ability to make her characters much more mature beyond her real age. In one second, she’s 45 years old, with a whole experience of someone who’s had a hard life and has gone through so many bad things, then one second later, she’s thirteen and innocent. And to have that kind of ability—to go from one point to another—is just really fascinating to me. I’ve never seen other actors do this before in my life.

Franz was a dancer, and if I remember correctly, I think he was also in a clown school for a circus, so he can do everything with his body. It’s unbelievable what he can do. He has this amazing physicality that I admire and haven’t seen before in other German actors. When they’re together sharing a scene, they dance with each other. And this is the thing that I like so much about them and the thing I need in Undine, because I need actors who can float from one scene to another as if they’re dancing underwater.

In literature and pop culture, the myth of Undine has been mostly told from the male perspective. You reframe the narrative, to give Undine the opportunity to maybe emancipate herself from both the male figure in her life and the curse. Tell me more about that choice. Two or three years ago, I had a retrospective in New York, and I had the chance to see some of my previous movies again—[laughing] I’ve actually never done it before, revisiting my own movies. And at that time, I realized that I’ve always tried to rewrite the stories centering on women, which were made by men in the ’40s, ’50s, ’60s and ’70s, from another perspective: the perspective of the women.

When I was in Venice for the first time, Claude Chabrol [was] in the same hotel as me, and he had a Q&A. I wanted to say hi and tell him how great he was but I couldn’t do it because I was very young and too shy for those things. I heard what he said when asked why in his movies, the women are always the main characters. His answer was, “Men are living, women are surviving. And cinema is about surviving.” It was such a fantastic answer.

All the movies I [have] made, including Undine, are about surviving. Undine wanted to survive her curse—she tries to, every time, since centuries ago. In so many iterations of the myth, Undine always has to go back into the lake and to the life the curse has set for her. I really wanted to zoom in on that, to liberate the character of Undine from the myth and the curse.

In the movie, Undine works as an historian at a museum, and in her tours, she talks about Berlin’s architecture and its reconstruction throughout the years. How is this related to the romantic aspect of the movie? Everybody says you can take a love story and put it in the sixteenth century or the nineteenth century, and it’s always gonna be the same kind of love story. But I think that’s not entirely right. Love stories always change. A kiss in Berlin 1933, for example, is not gonna be the same kiss in Berlin today, right? Therefore I want to take the historical aspect of Berlin architecture and its reconstruction to tell the story of two young people in Berlin nowadays, to see the evolution of both this love story and the myth of Undine itself.

What’s the significance of all the buildings Undine mentions in the movie? The buildings serve a very important role in the movie because Berlin is between two rivers on an island, and the city is built on dried-out swamps, so the element that Undine is coming from, which is the water, is destroyed in Berlin. It doesn’t exist anymore. And therefore Undine doesn’t have any habitats, so she has no choice but to adapt and to live on the land.

In some way, I always think that the modernization in Berlin erases history, and when there’s no history, there’s no magic, which means magical creatures like Undine won’t exist. That was the main idea of the architectural elements in the movie.

Is that also the reason why there are two locations in the movie: Berlin, and the small town where Franz’s character, Christoph, works and lives, which is still full of swamps? To show that in this small town, magic still exists? That’s a good question. The romance and the myth of Undine is a part of German and European history. It’s a unique enchantment. But in Berlin, where modernization and civilization keep growing and changing, there’s no enchantment anymore. So I want to show how in this small town where everything is still kept as closely natural as possible, the enchantment and the charm of Germany are still there.

There’s a beautiful and romantic poem by Joseph Eichendorff that says, “You must find the right world, so everything can sync again.” To me, that line encourages us to find the magic of the world back. We live in this world surrounded by retro buildings and retro behavior and retro music, but it’s all actually just an illusion of magic. The real magic, that’s something that we have to find—either by movies or camera positions or poems or even by preserving the naturality of a city. And the Undine myth actually has a lot to do with this.

Another thing that fascinates me about the movie is how the dynamic between Undine and Johannes, in some way, reflects the state of modern dating. Is this something that you also wanted to capture when you wrote the script? [Laughing] Funny story, when Paula read the script for the first time, she told me that she liked it so much because the story reminded her of Tinder and modern dating. And on some level, it’s true; part of Undine is about modern dating. I always think that in the era of dating apps, everything gets much simpler—you meet someone, you have sex (or perhaps not), and if you feel like this someone is not handsome or beautiful enough for you, you can keep scrolling until you find someone new. So, dating right now is like going to the supermarket.

Johannes leaving Undine to be with another woman, who for him is better-looking than Undine, reflects the culture of Tinder. And the line I mentioned earlier, “If you leave me, then I’ll have to kill you,” is the opposite of that kind of dating life. And Paula, who hates Tinder, loves that line a lot. Some of the actors are on Tinder, I’m sure, and that’s understandable. Actors are sometimes very lonely because for six to eight weeks, they are deep inside of a character, and when they’re on break, they’re in some sort of “black hole of loneliness”.

Writer-director Christian Petzold.

Undine being a water nymph, of course, makes the water element very important in this movie. But water has actually been heavily featured in some of your previous features as well, like in Yella, Barbara and Transit. Can you tell us why you find water fascinating? I’ve seen a documentary by Agnès Varda, and in [it] she said, “The place where one element is touching one another is the place where cinema builds its stories.” That’s why she loved the beach, because on the beach, there’s water and there’s the earth and there’s also wind, and they’re touching each other. So to her, the beach is the perfect place where you can tell a story.

For me, however, the reason I like featuring water or the other elements in most of my movies is because it has something to do with seeing my characters coming from one element then going to the other elements; to see them act and react in a new and sometimes uncomfortable place. Also, when you see pictures or paintings, so many of them are about people looking deep into the sea. I always feel like that kind of painting is actually about a desire. And most of my movies, at [their] core, are about desire. That’s why water is so important to me. Deep under the water, there’s the place of desire.

What’s the first movie that made you want to become a filmmaker? The first movie I loved very much as a kid was The Jungle Book, but the first movie that made me want to become a filmmaker was by Alfred Hitchcock, The 39 Steps. I was fourteen or fifteen years old when I saw the movie for the first time, and I loved it from the first moment. The movie is about a man and a woman who are bound by handcuffs, and they don’t like each other, but because they’re on the run, they have to communicate and come to an understanding. And the love story starts because of that communication, not because of looks, and I love the movie so much for that reason.

If you could program a double feature with Undine, what movie would you pick? Good question. I would say The Night of the Hunter. Also maybe Creature from the Black Lagoon or 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea or The Son’s Room by Nanni Moretti. These are the movies that I would recommend for a double feature with Undine.

Related content

More ‘Little Mermaid’ adaptations: a list by Katherine

Paula Beer strolling around towns cinematic universe

Diogo’s mega-list of Mermaids in Film

Horror’s History with Scary Mermaids: a Bloody Disgusting list

Follow Reyzando on Letterboxd

‘Undine’ is in theaters and available on VOD in the US now.

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 4 years

Text

Twenty-Four Hours

Pairing: Spencer x Fem!Reader

Summary: (Five Minutes, Part 5) It all comes to a head.

Warning: Knife, blood, kidnapping, gun, swearing, violence

Words: 1,555

A/N: Here you go :)

Part One HERE Part Two HERE Part Three HERE Part Four HERE Part Six HERE

Master List HERE Permanent Tag List HERE

The funeral was beautiful. It was a warm day for autumn, and he knew she would have enjoyed it. The sun shone brightly, as if to say that she was looking down on them and saying, ‘it’s okay’. Its not okay though, she was gone, and he missed her.

It wasn’t a very large funeral. The attendees were family and close friends, a selected handful that she loved like family. Of course, she had many friends but her parents thought it best to have a quiet goodbye to their daughter. Its what she would have wanted.

It wasn’t overly religious. She didn’t pray unless it was a special holiday, ‘Just enough to get me into heaven, just in case’, she’d joke with a wink. He’d thought it was a cute little joke but now, it just made him home that if there is a heaven, she’d be there.

He hoped her heaven was nice. He hoped that the family she had lost were up with her, taking care of her. He hoped they ate in heaven, because he knew how much she loved to cook and eat. He hoped there were libraries filled with all the books that have been written, and all the books that will ever be written. He hoped they had a way of watching TV and movies in heaven, because she had always joked about how she’d hate to die before her series ended or before the next movie sequel was released.

He hoped she was happy up there.

He missed her. Missed her more than anything. He missed her laugh, her smile. He missed how she would chew on her pen. One time, she had got ink on her chin. He missed the face she’d make when she picked up a cookie and bit into it, thinking it was chocolate chip, only to discover it was raisin. He had been the one to leave them out for her, he had wanted to see her reaction.

He would hold onto those memories for the rest of his life. He promised himself that he would think of her every day, would smile for her at least once a day. Though he knew he’d move on, he had to, that he would go on to marry someone, potentially have children, in the future… he would always think fondly of her.

The funeral came to an end and he turned from grave. Two figures stood a few feet away, silently watching the funeral. They nodded to him, silently beckoning him over. He walked over to them slowly, not having the will power to move any faster.

They stood is silence for a moment, watching as the other attendees left. Some nodded at them, and they politely smiled softly back. When they had left and the men were alone, he let out a sigh.

“We got him” one of the men, David Rossi, informed him.

“Good” nodded Lucas King, looking back at the grave of his girlfriend. “Lydia… Lydia can rest easy now.”

24 Hours Earlier

You had failed the task. The stupid riddle with random letters. Letter number one was ‘O’, two was ‘T’, three was ‘T’ – wait… oh. That was the pattern. Of course, how could you have been so stupid? In all fairness, you barely had three minutes to solve the riddle and reading the riddle was included in those minutes. Your panic and stupidity had got you killed.

It was dark and you knew what would come next. The unsub would come in, and you’d be killed. However, this didn’t fit the profile you had formed in your mind. From the display of details of the victim’s deaths in the first room, and the blood stain in the maze, you knew that he’d want to be able to see him victim and for them to see him. He would want to see the fear in his victims eyes, you had no doubt that there were cameras throughout the self-made basement which had captured your ordeal thus far.

He wouldn’t kill you in the dark.

You put your hands out on either side of you. You carefully took steps backwards, putting yourself in the corner of the small space. The area was small, it wouldn’t allow the unsub much room to attack you and you couldn’t help but wonder if this was really where he was going to kill you.

The lights came on and you squinted, blinking against the harsh light to focus your eyes. You gasped, pushing yourself further against the wall as your eyes landed on the man in front of you.

He was tall, with dark hair and small light eyes. His eyebrows were thick, casting shadows over his eyes and causing him to look like he was frowning, though you noticed he seemed relaxed. He was in his element, standing there in front of a woman with a sharp knife in his hand.

“Move” he instructed, flicking his wrist to point you at the door.

It was the door which you had failed to open. You took a deep breath, keeping your eyes on him as you edged your way through the door. It was with annoyance as you realised this section was much larger and was obviously the end of ‘task three’. You had been so close.

You backed away from the unsub, your arms slightly raised at your sides and your palms open. You knew what came next.

He lunged at you, the knife aiming towards your stomach. You stepped to the right, moving your arm forward, up and to the left in order to knock his arm and push the knife away. Your right arm came up, fist formed, and you threw a punch at his nose. He stumbled backwards a step and you brought your leg up, planting your foot hard and fast onto his chest to push him further back.

“I’m an FBI agent, you thought I wouldn’t fight back?” you growled, bringing your arms up in front of you.

“You stupid bitch” he hissed, wiping under his nose with his sleeve.

“Yeah, come on, get angry” you encouraged, smirking at him. “I’m not just going to lay down for you.”

You wanted him angry, you wanted him furious. ‘Remember, Y/N, never fight when your angry or upset, it’ll effect your judgement and you’ll probably lose’. Derek’s words filled your mind and you hoped it was true, that it would impact of anger would haze his mind and cloud his judgement.

He came you again, swinging the knife to the left before quickly changing direction and going right. You grit your teeth, falling back to avoid the knife but let out a shout as the knife slices against your side. You throw yourself left and away from him, your hand reaching to brace against your wound.

Blood seeped through your shirt and the wound burned. Thankfully, the blood wasn’t gushing and so you knew it was too deep. Still, your side felt like it was on fire and your eyes stung at the pain but you had to push through. You couldn’t give up now.

He lunged forward; the knife held high above his head in one hand while his other hand reached to grab you. You lifted your left hand, grabbing the wrist which hand began to bring the knife down. Your arm stained under the force he was exerting and then you squealed as his free hand closed around your throat.

You right hand clawed at his, your teeth bared as you kicked out at him. Your left up shook and you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold him off for long. You hadn’t had anything to eat, had only had a few sips of water and you hadn’t slept. You were exhausted, the energy in your body coming from pure adrenalin as you fought for your life.

You weren’t going to win this fight though. you knew that. You weren’t going to be able to hold him off for much longer, but you were determined to make him work for your death. You weren’t going to go easily for him. You had already broken his nose and given him a selection of bruises, hopefully he’ll at least get muscle strain too.

A crash sounded to your right behind one of two closed doors. You tried not to let your eyes wonder to the door as it crashed open, two figures quickly entering.

“FBI-” Hotch shouted, gun pointed at the unsub.

“-Drop the knife!” Morgan finished.

It was at that moment your arm gave out from the pressure and the unsub drove the knife down with force. You couldn’t even scream at the knife pierced your skin; your brain unable to focus on what was going on around you as your eyes widened from the pain of the knife cutting into you.

A gun went off and then you were falling. The unsub was no longer holding you up and your legs gave out from under you.

“Y/N, Y/N, hold on” Derek shouted, falling to his knees besides you and bring his hands up to your wounds.

You grabbed his wrists, your eyes, wide with fear, meeting his as you gasped for breath.

Your team had found you; they had come for you. But it was too late.

A/N: Yes, I made this chapter Angst to spite you all. I can’t believe how quickly you solved the riddle. You nerds, I love you

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queenmuzz · 4 years

Text

Choo Choo, Here comes the Angst Train again!

A while back I wrote a short little story. You can find it HERE. This is a distant sequel.

Vergil awakens from a nightmare. He’s used to them, he’s had them for more than a decade and a half, so much so he doesn’t even wake up with a gasp, or god forbid, a scream anymore. This one was much more vivid than usual though, of a blood red sun, of cracked stone and suffocating armour. But it doesn’t matter, he knows how to deal with them.

He keeps his eyes closed, and thinks about what he must do for the day. They’ve been in this motel room for too long, it’s time to move on. The sighting of that demon that wore his mother’s face was the final thing that shattered the illusion of stability for himself and Nero.

Nero…

No doubt the child will be disappointed, but will accept the decision to move. His son is very conflict averse, almost concerningly so, but Vergil understands. After all, he knows what it’s like to be abandoned, to be willing to do ANYTHING to be loved and protected.

The boy will be turning nine soon, and Vergil wishes to do something special for him. Nero, when asked, had said that anything his father wanted to do would be nice, which leaves Vergil to observe the unspoken cues his son gives out, the way his eyes widen as they passed a carousel, him lingering a moment longer in front of an action figure display. All Vergil needs to do now is to figure out what his son would like to eat.

He breathes in, and that’s the first sign things are wrong. Instead of the smell of cleaning chemicals attempting to cover up the smoking from the last motel occupant, he is bombarded with familiar, yet unexpected scents. Gunpowder. Engine grease. And most alarmingly of all, stale pizza.

He hears a small gasp, and the rustle of clothes beside him. He’s not alone. Of course he’s not, Nero should be sleeping in the bed next to him, or quietly reading a book in the early morning light, but something feels off.

Cautiously, he opens his eyes. Even when he was desperate to find a place for Nero and himself to stay for the night, he’d never stooped to this. The yellowed wallpaper is peeling from water damage, the hardwood floor is chipped and worn. But even with such decrepit surroundings, he gets the feeling that this place is a sanctuary… a home.

Another rustle of cloth, a loud swallow, and he turns to its source. A man, couldn’t be more than a few years younger than him, sits on a worn antique chair, staring expectantly at him. Vergil swears he’s seen him before, but cannot quite recall where or when. Which is odd, because his hair, a vibrant silver, should stick out like a sore thumb in his memories. A Son of Sparda would remember someone like that.

His eyes are brilliant blue, dulled only slightly by the tired bags underneath them, and his lips are chapped, no doubt from the nervous biting he is currently doing. But what really catches Vergil’s eye is the scar, freshly made, that is drawn on his left cheek. Just looking at it causes Vergil pain in his chest, although he doesn’t know why.

He doesn’t have time to ruminate on the identity of his bedside visitor though, there’s someone more important that he needs to find.

“Nero?”

The man’s eyes brighten. There is no response from his child.

“Where is my son?”

The man becomes crestfallen.

A Son of Sparda does not panic, but Vergil is very close. The world is a dangerous place, and Nero needs protection. He reaches for Yamato, but she’s not at his side, she’s vanished. To have both his son and sole friend gone freezes the blood in his veins. Without either of them, he’s lost.

The man in front of him goes to speak, but Vergil cuts him off.

“What have you done with my son?” he threatens, and tries to get out of the bed, but struggles to even throw the blankets off. He feels like he’s been bed ridden, and his muscles have atrophied. No, scratch that, his muscles are perfectly fine, it’s him trying to get the orders from his brain to them that are slow and clumsy, as if his nerves have been left in disuse...as if someone ELSE has been ordering his movements.

But even with this setback, he’s able to finally sit up, and begins to force himself to stand, to tear apart everything in the search for Nero.

The young man, who up to this point hasn’t moved out of his seat, suddenly lurches forward to stop him from getting off the bed, his hands firmly on his shoulders. Vergil struggles to push him aside, but he’s too unyielding, (or is Vergil too weak?) to make him move.

“I need my son!” A Son of Sparda doesn’t beg, but he’s almost at the breaking point. At last, he can feel Yamato, somewhere in the vicinity, but strangely she’s not as panicked as he is about this, she’s giving out a calming aura. For a brief moment he’s amazed that she’s whole again, before questioning why she would have ever been broken in the first place.

“Dad!” the man cries out, and Vergil looks about, trying to see if there’s someone else in the room, but there's no one but them. “It’s okay, you’re safe now. We got you out of there! Nobody will hurt you anymore!”

“Where is my son?” he repeats brokenly, and the young man shudders. Why can’t he place this man’s face?

The grip on his shoulders tightens, but not to a painful extent.

“Dad...it’s me...it’s Nero.”

Vergil freezes. That’s impossible. His son is just about to celebrate his ninth birthday, not his twentieth. Last time he saw him, he only reached his chest as he gave him a hug while he went to confront.... His thoughts are painful and confused.

“I’m sorry,” the man says as he pulls Vergil closer, and despite being a man who hates being touched, he doesn’t feel any discomfort in this embrace. Wetness on his shoulder.

“If I had been stronger...we could have gotten to you sooner. I could have saved you.” The man is trying to hold in his sobs. “If it hadn’t been for me… You wouldn’t have had to protect me...you wouldn’t have gotten captured.”

Captured? He’s a strong Son of Sparda, he’s never been…

A mental image fills his mind. He feels the sharp pain as shards of sulfur infused glass pierce his torso, the taste of freshly spilled blood in his mouth. A trio of crimson lights exude malevolence, and worst of all, invisible tendrils burrow into his mind, trying to read his thoughts, his memories of his brother...of his son. Only then does he understand the decision his mother made all those years ago. Of which to choose, her son’s life, or her own.

A Son of Sparda has never, WILL never submit.

But a father? He would gladly give up everything to protect his son. And so, he submits. Allows himself to kneel, to be encased in suffocating metal, to do the bidding of his mother’s murderer. And when his Master orders him to dispatch the invaders to his sanctum, he does so. Even under a blood red sun, against a young man who won’t strike him, and calls him by a title he doesn’t deserve, continues to plead for him to come back, even as the blade, a blade that is not his own, cuts into his cheek. The pain it causes him jerks him right back into the present.

For a moment, Vergil isn’t holding a young man anymore, he’s holding a frightened eight year old, who’s just awoken from a nightmare, and needs comfort.

“Nero…?” he asks tentatively, finally understanding.

The young man...no, his son, pulls back a little with surprise on his face, tears streaming down his cheeks. The little boy is no more, he’s grown up… and Vergil’s missed all of it. But the smile on Nero’s face is genuine, and loving.

“You’re back…” he says, and this time, Vergil pulls him in for a hug. He may have given up nearly everything, but his son is alive. And that’s all that matters…

After a decade, Vergil finally awakens from his nightmare.

#Devil May Cry #Dadgil #Vergil #Nero #canon divergent au #ANGST #But a happy ending this time!

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arshipweek · 3 years

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AR Ship Week - Fanwork Recs

Banner credit

This is the fourth and last weekly post in the lead up to Alex Rider Ship Week. Only 1 week to go!

This week we’ve got a selection of shippy fanwork recs submitted by members of the AR fandom. Enjoy and hope to see you next week!

**Please note that I haven’t listed all the details for the fics so take care to read the tags on AO3 before diving in!

Yassen/Alex

Our Endless Numbered Days by Galimau Just your run of the mill heartwarming look at the quiet beats of Alex and Yassen's relationship...after the apocalypse. Soft and sweet this fic focuses on the very still and quiet moments of two men at the end times trying to hold onto the things that bring them joy. It's an intimate view of what Alex and Yassen's life could be like of all their cares were quite literally wiped away - excellent world building and writing make this a must read.

Yalex art by Ireliss Alex and Yassen in a lake! Everything about this picture is perfect - the light, the colours, the feeling of stillness... Probably the most beautiful picture of Alex and Yassen I've ever seen.

Sun Poisoning by fElBiTeR Angsty, beautiful, slowburn soulmate fic with a twist on the usual tropes and gorgeous imagery

Twisting, Turning, Tumbling by ShiruyTheSecond A glacially slow burn, road trip au, and sick fic all mashed into one fic, in non-chronological order based on 100 themes. I'd say this was one of the gateway fics into Yalex for me; there's nothing like reading a longfic you thought was gen and wishing it were slash, only for the realization to hit you in the face like a brick 50 something chapters later. Alex is on the run for a variety of reasons after a mission for MI6 goes spectacularly wrong, so he surprisingly finds himself leaning on Yassen for help, experincing whumpage along the way. Absolutely delicious.

Specific Performance by BurntWhisper Alex is a good spy, good enough that SCORPIA has tasked Yassen with killing him. Yassen can't do that but he can give Alex a very...enthusiastic going away present even Alex hasn't been a very good boy. It's a fun look at Alex and Yassen's first fling with callbacks to the original gen fic. That hits every perfect note and hits a few other things too.

Interlude by Suzie_Shooter Incredibly soft and fluffly Yalex that ends with an unexpected top!Alex and bath sex. Will absolutely warm your heart the way it does mine every time I read this fic.

Medicine by Suzie_Shooter The other fic in response to the prompt of "Alex is given a serum that makes him feel good when he tells the truth" except this one is praise kink while the other is humiliation kink! Specifically focused on a smoking hot blowjob and Alex's reluctance turned enthusiam, plus, there's a second chapter, just in case one dose of the antidote isn't enough.

One Year by BurntWhisper The slowest of slow burns featuring Alex and Yassen on the run from MI6, SCORPIA and their own feelings. Covering 3 months of their life on the run this fic features action as well as the slow, quiet moments where the budding relationship can truly shine through and behind it all the intelligence world continues to grind on threatening to take their happiness with it. It's a beautiful fic with strong, detailed writing and the emotional weight that it deserves.

Midnight Smoke by Hijja If you're in the mood for darker fics with plenty of Yassen hurting Alex complete with violence and heavy dubcon, Hijja has you covered. This particular fic features a mission-type premise with Alex being sent to investigate a spate of teen abductions only to be captured. Yassen is there, and he has his own goals...

Hello Alex by anonymous Fanart: a reunion hug between Yassen and Alex.

Face The Truth by capeofstorm Alex is given a serum that makes him feel good when he tells the truth. Yassen is absolutely a man to take advantage. Recced by Suzie_Shooter

Lights Out by Suzie_Shooter Yassen and Alex left tradecraft behind for a new life in the Greek islands. Ten years on, their relationship is still going strong and they've become island locals, the proprietors of a sailing club and a windsurfing business. Their idyllic life is disrupted by a new threat that wants them dead. I just love the premise of Yalex riding off into the sunset and not looking back. This fic not only has suspense, action, hot sex, and the intimacy borne of ten years...but once you're done, there are two excellent sequels and a prequel to lap up!

Villa in the Sun by BoldAsBrass A multi-chapter story within a story as Yassen and Alex keep in touch over the phone through a tale of a Russian bodyguard's encounters with a young English man. This is so cleverly done and beautifully written; I could re-read it and re-read it (in fact, that's exactly what I've done).

Sting in the Tail by Suzie_Shooter With the world hanging in the balance, MI6 presses an imprisoned Yassen into service. They use Alex to convince him, but also a nasty "sting in the tail" incentive to guarantee results. A thrilling Yalex mission!fic where Yassen and Alex forge their trust in each other by facing mortal danger and saving the world together. I was on the edge of my seat the whole time, eating up the slow burn and wondering how on earth they were going to succeed with all the obstacles Scorpia and MI6 threw in their way.

Rarely Pure And Never Simple by fElBiTeR Non-con > dub-con > fuck-yes-con speedrun. Recced by Suzie_Shooter

Just Say I Do by Nanimok I'm possibly biased because this was written for me, but 'woke up married' is a great trope and this is both snarky and adorable. Recced by Suzie_Shooter

Open Invitation by Suzie_Shooter After Ian's death in TV 'verse, fifteen-year-old Alex is living alone in a depressive, self-destructive spiral. He realizes someone is watching him at home...and decides to give them something more compelling to watch. I am squicked out by creepers, but the characterizations tackle the thorny elements head-on: Yassen's mixed feelings and understated pursuit tactics are 100% believable, as is Alex's volatility; he's alternately confused, provocative, and defiant. Exhibit A:“Does that make you a victim, or a slut?” The question came casually, but it had the unexpected sting of a slap. Alex blinked. “What, I can’t be both?” he countered after a second. Plot ensues, because how can a relationship possibly form from such a premise? Mind the tags (you might trip into your next kink because the sex is mind-blowingly hot).

Flirting with Danger by BoldAsBrass Basically THE gateway fic into Yalex for me - short and sweet, snappy narration and dialogue, a sleekly dangerous Yassen and Alex who might be a skilled, pragmatic adult but quickly realises he's in over his head. Sprinkle in a bit of dubcon and scorching hot writing and you get this perfect fic.

Burning a Dead Man's Fingertips by GreenQueenofClubs Multichapter slow burn, MI6!Yassen AU - an excellent premise done extremely well and feels fresh and new, balancing mission-style fic with character development! The dynamic between Yassen and Alex is somewhat different here compared to most Yalex fics as they don't meet until Alex is an adult; a really intriguing glimpse into what could have been...

A Little Pat Down by Nanimok Airport security can be frustrating at the best of times but couple it with being edged like none other by an assassin turned security guard and it can really be a pain in the ass. A filthy but extremely well written premise. Crack taken seriously is this author's strong suit so not a single one of their works will steer you wrong.

Yalex Ballet AU by anonymous Yalex ballet AU with absolutely gorgeous imagery and slow burn. Fluid prose and in the background, the shadows of past histories and things unsaid.

Gentleman's Agreement by Valaks Yassen and Alex have a "gentleman's agreement" for handling their business in the field. No one ever said anything about parent-teacher conferences. Claims to be gen, but deserves a place on this list for subtle genius alone, because with lines like "Like a fine wine, Alex Rider was improving with age" and "How interesting that Alex Rider would be that interested in his hands", what are we supposed to think....? UST in all caps is the best description.

Salty the Sweat on my Fingertips by Galimau A fun little romp of Alex visiting Tom and having to call his overly protective boyfriend? because he's pregnant and everything hurts. Beautifully written, this fic explores the ending of Oceanbreeze7's Moonfish and follows the extremely creative monster biology to its logical conclusion of Alex getting knocked up.

Slipping Through My Fingers by Nanimok This kink meme fill hits in all the right places as we watch through the eyes of a very jealous Julius as Yassen gives Alex all the attention he needs. The writing is, as always, on point and the characterization of Julius gets absolutely nailed (almost as much as Alex). Julius/Alex, Yassen/Alex

Other

Miss Julia by DantesThird Very creepy and traumatic noncon but really believable with Julia Rothman's obsession with John Rider. Alex/Julia Rothman

gone loose inside the shell by cyanides Fantastic messed-up fic where Julius keeps fantasising about killing Alex, but then the fantasies take a different turn. The possessive 'If I can't have you no-one can' dynamic really encapsulates the ship for me, and the fic stuck in my mind afterwards. Alex/Julius

smoke haze by Ireliss Dubcon, gun kink. A really intriguing and quite dark exploration of a young Yassen's situation with Scorpia and his very complex relationship with Hunter. John/Yassen

Our Settling Bones by Galimau A multi-chapter slow burn focused on a former assassin who has lost everything...and Yassen Gregorovich. The tension is off the charts and the characerization is on point. Everything you could want from the rarest of pairs. John Wick/Yassen

Lemniscate by Ireliss A look at what awaits Yassen when he arrives back at Scorpia after killing Vladimir Sharkovsky. This is deliciously dark as well as being entirely plausible. The sensory descriptions are fantastic. Yassen/Julia Rothman

#alex rider #ARshipweek #yalex #....#.....#mod posts #recs

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darks-ink · 4 years

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Reanimation - Ectoberweek 2020

A family can be a bunch of ghost hunters and 1 (half) ghost child.

[first part]

Rating: Teen Warnings: Implied character death, implied child abuse Genre: Family, Hurt/Comfort Words: 2,439 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - canon divergence, Sequel, Families of choice/Found family

[AO3] [FFN]

---

Agent O looked up from the report he was working on, trying to surreptitiously glance at the ghost in the van. One of the other agents had put a blanket on her—why did they have blankets in their ghost hunting van?—and she looked… cozy, for lack of a better word. Curled up even smaller than she already was, with the cape wrapped tight around her body, holding it tightly with her small fists, like she was afraid they might take it away from her otherwise.

Knowing what they had seen, where she had come from… O wouldn’t be surprised if it was a fear formed from experience.

She seemed stable enough for now, as long as she wasn’t using any of her powers. Which was good, because O wasn’t sure how they were supposed to stabilize her. When he’d promised to help her, he’d assumed that the scientists back at the base would know.

Hell, he hoped they knew. He’d promised, and knowing what she’d gone through, he would feel terrible going back on that promise now.

Looking down at the report again, he frowned. Turned back to the ghost. Cleared his throat to draw her attention. “Do you… have a name?” Was there any way to find out who these ghosts had been in life? To find out whether Masters had taken children and killed them, turned them into ghosts?

Were there parents, somewhere out there, whose child was gone and left behind the shade sitting opposite of O?

“Danielle,” she muttered, so quiet that O almost missed it. She repeated, a little more determinedly, “Danielle Phantom.”

And there it was again. Not only did she looked like Phantom, she used his name as a last name as well. How odd.

“Any relation to Phantom from Amity Park?” he asked. Had Masters somehow modeled her after Phantom? And if he had, would he have told her?

“Yeah, um.” She glanced away, eyes on her fidgeting hands. “He’s my… cousin.”

“Did Masters tell you that?” Agent L asked before O could work out an answer. “Or did you know that yourself?”

“I…” Danielle paused, clearly working through her answer. “I knew we were related,” she finally settled on. “But Daddy told me to call him my cousin.”

“And your brother?” O prodded, glaring at L over his glasses to get him to back off. “Did you know he was your brother for sure, or did Masters tell you that, too?”

Because it was undeniable that Danielle resembled Phantom more than just a little. Far more than what O would consider normal for humans. For ghosts, who could look like just about anything? It seemed suspect.

Was Phantom the first attempt? An escapee who wouldn’t listen to Masters? If he wanted another ghost just like Phantom, of course he would’ve prioritized her brother over her.

God, if only they had seen the other ghost before he’d destabilized. If he really had looked just like Phantom…

Well, it certainly had implications, didn’t it?

“No, I…” She frowned, then shook her head. “It’s different. We were all siblings, me and my brothers. Bones, Mo, Pixie… So of course he was, too, even if he never got to leave the incubator.”

“I see…” Bones, Mo, Pixie… those must’ve been the other ghosts near the mansion. Bones likely the skeletal ghost and Mo the muscular ghost, which meant that Pixie might’ve been the small one. “Your name seems a little strange, compared to theirs. How come?”

She shrugged, tugging the blankets further up, trying to curl away into it. “I… I was the only one who Daddy named. Bones, Mo, Pixie, we all picked their names. But Daddy called me Danielle…”

Her face crumpled, suddenly, somewhere between sad and outraged. “He didn’t even care about any of them! He only pretended to care about me! I— I—” The glow around her body brightened, the light visible through the blanket. Green coalesced around her clenched fists.

“Shh, shh, calm down,” O hushed, hands out and paused before putting them on her. “Danielle, you’re going to destabilize if you keep this up. Just calm down.”

“No!” she shouted back, her bright eyes snapping up to meet O’s eyes. “They’re all gone already! Nobody is going to care if I go to! Maybe—” The fire in her cut out as sudden as it had come. She sniffled, tears in her eyes. “Maybe we’ll get to reunite someplace else, someplace better.”

“Hey, shh, don’t talk like that.” O finally finished the motion he’d started, placing one hand on her shoulder. Damn this entire squad for being emotionally constipated. “Don’t look at it like that. Just think of it this way. You still remember your brothers, right, even though they’re gone? So as long as you still live, still remember them, they won’t be entirely gone.”

“Besides,” K cut in, finally. “This way, you can help us ensure that Masters gets punished properly, so he won’t ever be able to do what he did to you and your brothers. Don’t you want to help us with that?”

Her glow settled down, finally, as her expression grew determined. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I would like to do that.”

O drew back, then threw a glance at the report he’d abandoned to the floor. Shook his head as he picked it up, then put it away properly, instead taking out a voice recorder. “Alright, how about we start with this then. You tell us everything you know. We can record it, and you won’t have to talk about any of it again if it hurts too much, okay?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” She nodded, shifting her shoulders underneath the blanket like she was bracing herself. “Tell me where to start, please?”

---

“Danielle,” O said, disapprovingly, frowning at her. “You know the rules.”

“K said it was fine!” she immediately retorted, gesturing at her plate. Which was, of course, loaded with all kinds of sweets. Sometimes she maybe it rather easy to remember that her apparent age and her mental age didn’t quite line up right.

“Did he now?” O asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “So if I go over there right now and ask him…”

“No, don’t!” She grabbed onto the plate, holding it away from him. “L said I should, not K! But—”

Why was it always L? O made a mental note to speak to the man later, and then to talk to L’s partner M as well, just to be safe.

“Danielle,” he said, more patiently now. “I know you like the sweet things, but you need to eat properly, okay? You need to stay healthy.”

“But the ectoplasmic stuff is yucky.” She made a face, then jerked away when he stepped closer. “You can’t stop me from eating this!”

“Danielle,” O said, again, feeling his patience rapidly deplete. “You can have it after you’ve eaten all your regular food, okay?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly considering it. Finally she heaved a deep sigh and put the plate back down onto the table. “Fine.”

“I’ll go and grab some from the kitchen, then.” He stepped past her, ruffling her hair on the way. “Behave yourself, or I’ll have P and Q watch over you next time.”

“Noooo,” she whined, sprawling over the table. “I’ll behave, I promise!”

O hummed thoughtfully. “You’d better, little lady.” And with a last wink to her, he left the room.

Time would tell whether she would actually listen or not. O wasn’t sure if it was proper parenting behavior but, to be fair, none of them were proper parents anyway.

Besides, what kind of parenting advice would apply to a young ghost, anyway? Danielle appeared to be about twelve, but her behavior often seemed to fit a child much younger, and she couldn’t remember a life before being a ghost, either.

At least they had managed to stabilize her. It took quite a bit of work to convince the scientists to help stabilize her, rather than experiment on her, but they had managed it. After all, Danielle had been one of their few captures, and her behavior was so complicated that it clearly required further research. Not to mention her similarities to Phantom. Subjecting her to regular research would’ve a waste, no?

O scoffed to himself. A waste, definitely, but not for any of those reasons.

Now all they needed to keep her stable was a steady diet of ectoplasmic contaminated food. And also some regular food, because Danielle burned through quite a bit of energy just by existing.

And boy, was she intent on doing more than just existing. They needed all Agents on base just to keep her safe and occupied sometimes. Over time it had just… somehow become standard fare for all of them. They were all living on base anyway, so why not help take care of the little ghost?

O shook his head to try and dislodge the thoughts and focus on what he was doing. With a resigned sigh he opened the designated Danielle fridge, peering over its contents to find something lunch-worthy. Ah! Sliced ham. Perfect.

Quickly, he set about making some sandwiches, letting his thoughts stray once more. Yes, somehow Danielle had become the base’s shared child. No one present among the Guys in White would dare to harm her anymore. The few scientists that had let their curiosity stray a little too far had been corrected and, when they refused to learn, got fired entirely.

Or, well. They weren’t around anymore, at least. O might be in charge of his team, but he wasn’t that high up. He assumed they must’ve gotten fired, but who knew with government organizations like theirs.

Either way, Danielle was safe among them. She was cared for, protected, and okay. They hadn’t gotten Masters locked away yet, building a perfect foolproof plan first, but he was under constant supervision. No other children would suffer, no other ghosts would be made by his hand.

And, soon enough, he would pay for what he had done.

O finished the sandwiches, cleaning up the supplies and carefully picking up the plate. Now, time to see if Danielle had behaved herself.

He stepped through the doorway, back into the room where he’d left Danielle. Quietly, he inched closer to the table, then put down the plate with sandwiches right between her hand and the plate with sweets.

“Busted,” she murmured, withdrawing her hand.

“Busted,” O echoed with a grin, drawing away the other plate. “Lunch first, Danielle.”

“I know, I know.” She sighed wearily, like it was a huge task, and pulled the sandwiches closer to herself. “But sweets after?”

“Eat all your lunch first, then we’ll see if you have space left.” He sat down opposite of her, the plate with sweets in front of him. “Who’s watching you after?”

“Agent K is,” she said around a bite of food. “Why?”

“Well, we wouldn’t want you to get sick while she’s watching you, would we?” O smiled down at her. If it had been L, he might’ve considered it. It would’ve been a good lesson for both Danielle and L, who had encouraged her. But K? She was a good Agent, and she took good care of Danielle.

O watched Danielle tuck a strand of black hair behind her ear, feeling… satisfied. Yes, they were taking pretty good care of her, all things considered. She’d stabilized, and her core had grown mature enough for her to develop her own unique powers. She was a fully grown ghost now, even if her mind remained young.

Still, he was curious to see if she would grow in body, too. One of the first unique powers she had developed was a minor shapeshifting ability, after all, allowing her to look perfectly human. Which made sense, according to the Agents on base, since Danielle was so human, and spent so much time around humans as well. Of course she would develop powers related to that.

It was perfectly possible that she would continue to develop her shapeshifting ability to allow her to look older as time passed. O would be curious to see it. To see what she would look like, fully grown.

And, yes. Sometimes he wondered if this was what Danielle had looked like before she’d died. If somewhere out there, there were parents who could look at her and know this was their child. But they didn’t know how long Masters had her, or any of the other ghosts. Didn’t know what happened to their parents.

For all they knew, Masters had taken only orphans, or had killed the parents and made them orphans. It was better not to worry about it, when there was nothing to be done about it anymore.

Danielle finished her sandwiches, then turned big, watery, blue eyes onto O. “Please?”

He sighed, then slid the plate with sweets back over to her. “If you get sick, it’ll be your own fault. And L’s.”

“Yes!” she cheered, taking the plate from him. “I’ll be careful, promise!”

“Uh huh,” he said, dry and unconvinced.

She started munching away on the sweets, scattering crumbs all over the table as well as her clothes. Mentally, O made a note to have someone clean the room later.

“Hey,” Danielle said, suddenly, lowering the piece of chocolate she’d been about to bite into. “O? Is there… any chance you guys might take me to Amity Park someday?”

Amity Park? Why?

Apparently he’d taken a moment too long to respond, because she quickly added, “Y’know, to meet my cousin?”

“I… I’ll talk to the others about it, see if we can manage something.” Right. Her cousin. Who they were hunting down for haunting Amity Park. Who might be another one of Masters’ victims, and who might be just as human as Danielle.

That Phantom.

Danielle grinned at him, bright and cheerful. “Thank you!”

O sighed, reaching over to ruffle her hair. “Don’t thank me just yet. I can’t promise anything, just that I’ll try.”

“So? I can thank you for trying, can’t I?” She patted his hand, then suddenly jumped out of her chair. “Oh! I’d better get going before K gets worried.”

“Go, then,” O said, waving her away. “And Danielle? Stay out of trouble.”

“Like K will let me get in trouble,” she answered, blowing a raspberry at him. “Bye, O!” she called back before rushing out of the room, running down one of the hallways.

He listened to her rapidly decreasing footsteps, then heaved a sigh.

Right. Time to look into Phantom and Amity Park once more.

#danny phantom #ectoberweek2020 #ectoberweek 2020 #dp fanfic #phanfic #danielle phantom #guys in white #dark writes #i can't believe i'm going to need to write a third part to this series just to fit in the meeting with Danny

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gofancyninjaworld · 4 years

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watching ONE write women

One of the joys of following a writer for a while is that you get to follow how their ideas develop. One of the things that ONE brought up in an interview (annoyingly I’ve lost the link) was that he didn’t think that he wrote women particularly well.

I was thinking about that. When ONE says that, what comes across to me is that he has no problem writing a female character as an individual rather than a role. All the girls and women he’s written so far have their own voices, own their problems, and have something to do within the story that would be noticeable if they weren’t there. Quite frankly, that alone is over and above what various tests of representation (such as the Bechdel test) ask for.

What he’s not so good at is appreciating what being female brings to a character’s experiences and outlook. But he’s not just left it at that. More on what he’s been doing in a bit (and under the cut).

“...the law forbids rich and poor alike to sleep under bridges...” -- Anatole France

With his sharp eye and talent for exploring the implications of whatever he posits, ONE has brought up some issues are not inherently gendered, but usually are.

A: Childcare

Metal Bat appears to be the main, if not sole, carer for Zenko. How it affects him is fascinating. He’s one of the longest-serving heroes in the Hero Association, being there before Class S was formed, literally within the first six months of its establishment. He’s been extremely loyal and is highly trusted by the HA -- they put Narinki’s life into his hands without fear. His battle strength is literally praised to the heavens.

Metal Bat makes Zenko a priority, structuring his availability around her school schedule and being present in her life. He gets very angry if these times are threatened without overwhelmingly good cause. His reward is to be perceived by the Hero Association as less committed and so they under-recognise him in terms of ranking, and since rank and pay are linked, under-pay him as well. It’s a story all too many women can relate to. But that’s not all.

Because ONE writes so simply yet conscientiously, something else comes up and has a peek: intersectionality. It’s the concept that we often have multiple social disadvantages that interact and compound our problems. The first is sexism. Regardless of whatever childcare policy the HA has, the sexist assumption that only women care (for the record: this is bullshit) makes it unlikely for them to ask Metal Bat. Second, social capital. The fact that he’s Zenko’s sole carer means that he has low social capital, that informal network of people around you who can help out -- or tell you where to find help and what things to say in order to get that help. [Aside: this is why programmes to help people, unless they reach out aggressively, tend to disproportionately attract those who need it least.] Metal Bat doesn’t have the knowledge. The third is the challenge brought by his being a 17-year old boy. He’s quick to perceive challenge as threat, and threat as something to be met by anger. Witness him threatening to smash the HA headquarters if it turns out that he’s missed Zenko’s piano recital for nothing -- completely not useful to anything. [Another aside: the importance of learning to disambiguate emotions and do useful things with them even if it means being vulnerable as a part of growing up as a man is the whole point of Mob Psycho 100.]

What do the Neo Heroes do? They ask Metal Bat if he wants help with childcare AND HE JUMPS SHIP PRONTO. If that’s not an indictment of the Hero Association, I don’t know what is.

B: Emotional Labour

Saitama has been delegating more and more of the day-to-day work to Genos. What started as an act of service to express his gratitude, respect and love for Saitama is increasingly turning into a second job for Genos. It’s not just the cooking and cleaning and the shopping and the bailing Saitama out if he’s forgotten his wallet again, it’s also the worrying about Saitama, sometimes at inappropriate times. Has he drunk enough water? Has he clean clothes in good repair? What sales is he looking forward to? Have they been marked on the calendar? It’s honestly not doing Genos any good, and it’s one of those things all too many frustrated wives and girlfriends can relate to. This doing the practical and emotional work for another is not intrinsically gendered, but funny how often it breaks that way.

It’s not doing Saitama any good either. He’s using this freed up time to fritter his life ever more aggressively away, playing games with King and finding pointless competitions to enter, all while complaining about feeling less and less connected to anything (if you don’t address the problem, it doesn’t get better, duh!). Worse, he’s started to take that gift of service for granted, witness him airily telling King how he’ll just have Genos go clear up the mess of monsters he’s left outside the flat. I was heartened to see what happened when Saitama went a little too far and asked Genos to go cook and instead of jumping up, Genos gave him the the evil eye and let the awkwardness hang there. That was good -- there’s hope for this guy yet.

Speaking of Genos, he also over-functions for something else Saitama struggles with: advocating for himself. He tends to have Genos be the ugly one so he doesn’t have to be. You can see just how bad he is at self-advocacy when Forte and friends could invite themselves into Saitama’s house at will despite his protests -- and it stopped the instant Genos showed up.

In a sense, it’s not surprising that Genos can do that. When you’re differently-abled (and for once, this is not a euphemism) as he is, being able to clearly ask for what you want and need is life-and-death necessary. If Genos was shy about it, he’s long since had to discard that. But! Let me point to a nuance the story touches on. How pushy you can be without being punished for it depends a lot on who you are, intersecting strongly with race, gender, social status, etc (remember my mentioning intersectionality before). What’s called assertive in a man is called bitchy or sharp-elbowed in a woman. Even taking gender and race out of the equation, there’s still a noticeable difference in the way the world treats Saitama and Genos. You don’t need to be Sigmund Freud to understand the way the short, ugly Dr. Kuseno sweats making sure that Genos positively radiates youth, beauty, wealth and power. That’s part of his right to ask and be taken seriously. You can see how drastically different it is for Saitama, even from his middle school days. Genos notices, and makes sure to leverage his social power for Saitama.

What I love about these examples are that by not automatically heaving a woman into these characters’ roles, ONE’s brought a less frequently seen angle that illustrates the problems they deal with are not ‘womens’ issues per se but are rather inequities that disproportionately affect women -- which is at the heart of what feminists keep saying. When you read Makai no Ossan, you can appreciate that ONE could have gone with female characters and done a great job, but his choosing not to has brought a very welcome dimension to the story.

Women proper

“I’m not like other girls”

Still, bit by bit, ONE has been working more women into his stories. After his interview, the next thing he worked on was the single-volume sequel to Mob Psycho 100, Reigen. He took his challenge head-on by making the POV character Tome and putting her in an all-girls’ high school.

Throughout the story, we see Tome thinking of herself as special, better than her fellow classmates, whom she sees as vapid and shallow. The denouement comes with Tome being humbled as she gets to know her classmates better and realises that they pursue interests just as varied and weird as hers -- only they’re also practicing being socially adept on top of that.

It’s a gentle story, but it’s still a great side-swipe at self-internalised misogyny, the idea that it’s shameful to be like a ‘girl’ and it’s something to distance oneself from. Fortunately, Tome can laugh at herself and grow up.

“Ha ha ha”

For a long time, the only (named) women we had in OPM were Tatsumaki and her younger sister Fubuki. We’ve gotten more women both good and bad: in particular, it’s been very gratifying to find that one of the most dangerous, story-shaping villains in the story is Psykos.

In the webcomic, ONE’s pushed even further. A recent Tweet featured him talking about how hard he finds it to draw women. And he’s added several. No same-face for him! I’ll talk about the new heroines he’s added, but first, let me draw your attentions to something most artists don’t realize they do: massively skew the gender distribution of crowds, even when it is incredibly illogical to do so. With ONE, even drawing the crowds at the fair who gaggle at Amai Mask, he’s got a far more even balance of women and they’re not all young and pretty -- which is much more true-to-life. He’s in the business of drawing people.

ONE has featured microaggressions before, particularly in the way Fubuki can have perfectly sound things to say and be totally ignored, but he brings it properly to the fore with Suiko. No one calls her incompetent, but the little put downs she gets when she puts herself forward for the hero test in lieu of her brother, oh they’re well-observed The look on her face just makes it. I love the way she shut the recruiters up subsequently.

Let’s conclude this tour with a look at Webigaza’s lonely figure. We have another mono-manically focused cyborg in the story. Genos has been called a lot of things -- determined, obsessive even, but crazy? Never. Notice who it’s been reserved for instead. It’s no slip of the tongue.

Wrapping Up

I’m of the impression that ONE really wants to try to capture as much of the human experience as he can in his stories, however whimsical or fantastical the stories themselves are. I’m disarmed by his humility in accepting that he’ll never have the lived experience of half the world’s population but he sure as hell can put some effort into learning how to to writing well-realised, believable, female characters.

I watch ONE’s continued development as a writer with interest.

#OPM #Reigen #ONE #meta #long #women #female characters #I like that ONE treats women not as creatures whose problems and experiences can't possibly be understood #but as people first and foremost #perfect? No and who is #ongoing and adding to his understanding -- yes

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365days365movies · 3 years

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January 30, 2021: Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior

So, now that I’ve gotten through the first of these movies, it’s probably time to talk about the director of all four films, George Miller.

Miller’s an Australian director and medical doctor. Yeah, dude went to medical school, and in his last year there, started getting into filmmaking! Nice. He immediately came off as a budding director, and made his official directorial debut with his first film...Mad Max. Yeah. Very interesting guy. Today’s entry is his second film, and he’s since made films including Twilight Zone: The Movie, The Witches of Eastwick, Lorenzo’s Oil, Babe (yes, the pig one), Babe: Pig in the City (yes, the OTHER pig one), Happy Feet (not the pig one) and its sequel, Happy Feet Two. So, a pretty good filmography!

But throughout it all, Miller’s flagship passion was the Mad Max franchise, continuing with this movie, and eventually ending with Fury Road. And from what I’ve heard about these remaining two films, I’m in for a ride. Pun half-heartedly intended. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

An elderly narrator brings us in, telling the tale of the Road Warrior, Mad Max Rockatansky (Mel Gibson). He speaks of the downfall of modern society, punctuated by increased savagery, and the takeover of gangs on the world’s highways. People are ruined and forgotten, and they lose themselves. And these people include Max, who’s wandered out into the wilderness since losing his family. Yeah, Jess from the last movie? Dead. Guess she wasn’t doing so great after all.

Max and his dog are on the roads of Australia, where things have definitely changed. Ho longer around any vestige of civilization, the Road Warrior’s driving the Interceptor, being chased by punks on motorcycles, led by Wez (Vernon Wells), a cray, screaming dude with a bike and a mohawk..

After the chase, Max happens upon a recently-wrecked truck leaking gasoline, a much treasured resource in this post-apocalyptic landscape. Wez leaves, having been defeated, and Max gathers the fuel and goes his way. He drives through the desert until finding a mini-helicopter (a gyrocopter, it’s called), abandoned on the ground.

After taking care of a carpet python (Morelia spilota; don’t know the subspecies), he finds himself ambushed by the Gyro Captain (Bruce Spence), who holds him up for his fuel. However, using his dog, Max gets the upper hand. Frightened, Gyro tells him of a huge supply of fuel somewhere in the desert. He agrees to show him in exchange for his life. Max agrees, and does this.

Yeah, he tied a string to the trigger of a gun, and tied the other end to Dog’s bone. Fuck yes.

Gyro’s true to his word, and he takes him to an oil refinery in the middle of the desert. It’s being used and guarded by a gang of some kind. Max sets up camp, tying Gyro to a dead tree and spying on the gang. That night, many gang members leave the refinery, and return the next day. I should mention, at this point, that we start to see some of the crazy vehicles I love so much in Fury Road. Which, yeah, HERE for that!

Anyway, the bikers, including good old Wez, go after a guy in a tricked-out buggy, incapacitating him and...taking...his wife. Yeah, these movies are really leaning on that to vilify their bad guys, huh? First it was Toecutter’s gang and the young couple, and now it’s these random people. Not the best gimmick in the world, but...OK?

Well, Max goes down to take their gasoline, and finds that the man has lived. Max brings him back to a small settlement, where they take him in. Meanwhile, a child with a boomerang, called Feral Kid (Emil Minty), watches. Cool.

Max is taken into the settlement, where oil is being refined as well. The settlers definitely don’t accept Max, and are ready to take his car and oust him into the wilderness without fuel. And then, the bikers return. And there are a LOT of them.

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These are the Marauders, and they’ve taken some of the settlers captive. They’d gone out, only to be taken captive by Wez and the others. But Wez isn’t their leader. No...no, that would be the Warrior of the Wasteland! The Ayatollah of rock-and-roll-ah! THIS...is Lord Humungus (Kjell Nilsson)!

...Am I in love with this movie? Holy shit, I might be I mean, LOOK at that dude! With his voice and his scraggly-ass hair and Jason mask, he notes that the settlers sent out sentries to find a truck, with which to carry their gasoline and take it out of the desert. And as this is taking place, Feral Kid pops up, throws his steel boomerang, and kills Wez’ right hand man. WHAT

YES. MORE PLEASE. Feral Kid’s boomerang is thrown at him, misses, comes back and severs the fingers of the hand of Humungus’ mouth of Sauron dude, Toadie (Max Phipps). Humungus tries to calm the throngs, Wez included, and ends up putting Wez in a Sleeper. He tells the settlers to “just walk away, and [he] will spare [their] lives. Just walk away.”

...Yeah, I love Humungus. And his inevitable death saddens me more than I can properly say. Anyway, the settlers start debating whether or not they should walk away, and Max uses a little music-maker that he found to befriend the Feral Kid. The leader of the settlers, Pappagallo (Mike Preston) tries to convince them to flee with their fuel to a safe place. They continue to argue, until Max interjects with an offer.

Max can get them the vehicle to carry the tanker of gas that they have, but demands as much gas as he can carry, and the return of his vehicle. They agree to his terms, and Max heads off into the night to get the truck from earlier, with gas canisters and Dog in tow. With a little help from Feral Kid, he escapes the notice of the Marauders waiting nearby.

He catches up to Gyro, who’s managed to break free of the tree (well, mostly), and is quickly caught by Max in order to carry the gas canisters for the truck. They get back to Gyro’s gyro, where someone has died after being bitten by his...nonvenomous snake. Yeah, these films haven’t shown very high knowledge of zoology, huh?

They take to the air in the gyrocopter, and easily fly to the truck from the beginning of the film. They get it started, and Max leaves Gyro behind, although he protests to this, and follows behind in the copter. And then.he drives past Wez, who’s still enraged after losing his partner to boomerang hit.

By the way, I didn’t mention this about the gang, but they’re literally all wearing what looks to me like leather bondage gear? Like...I’m pretty certain that’s exactly what that is; it’s pretty obvious. ESPECIALLY Humungus and Wez’s partner, lemme tell you. Just a note, as this change in visual tone and style is going to carry throughout the rest of the series.

The Marauders run Max down, and Gyro saves the day with his snake, throwing it at one of the cars chasing him. Max JUST makes it into the Settlement, but a couple of the Marauders make it in as well, Wez amongst them. He kills a Settler using his favorite weapon, HIS OWN HEAD (fuck, this movie rules), and makes his was through the compound.

Max climbs the top of the wall, and uses a flamethrower on some of the men. Feral Kid throws a boomerang at Wez, who runs off with the rest of the Marauders. Gyro also arrives, landing in the settlement. Pappagallo, in the process, is shot in the leg with an arrow. Unfortunately, the damage sustained to the truck will take 12 hours to fix.

The Settlers thank Max for his help, but that doesn’t mean he’s staying there. That night, however, Humungus retaliates, and strings up their captured settlers for all to see, torturing them throughout the night. Nobody will make it out alive, by his promise.

For the time being, Max and Gyro are still in the settlement, waiting for their chance to leave. Gyro tries to sneak away with a young woman, but she opts to stay out of loyalty to the Settlers. Also, her hair looks like a Who from Whoville. It had to be said...it had to be said. Pappagallo berated Max for just leaving, rather than helping the rest of them and driving the tanker. Max shoves aside Feral Kid, and he takes off.

However, this is NOT the best move on Max’s part, as he drives RIGHT THROUGH the Marauder camp, and Wez isn’t far behind him. Using a NOS system (EAT IT FAST AND FURIOUS FRANCHISE), they easily overtake Max and run him off the road, DESTROYING the V-8 Pursuit Special, and injuring Max something fierce. Somehow, though, he manages to escape. But one of them KILLS DOG WHAT THE FUCK MAN

Max crawls away and escapes, but is found by...Gyro! Gyro picks him up with the copter, and takes him back to the settlement. He wakes up in a medical tent, still quite hurt. Pappagallo details the plan: use the tanker as a distraction to allow the others to escape. Max, although still injured, volunteers to drive the tanker after all. He doesn’t say exactly why, but he is now stuck there without a method of egress, and he’s the best chance they have. I’m going to choose to believe that he does it for Dog. JOHN WICK STYLE BABY

The time has come. On both sides, they head for conflict. Gyro’s air support, dropping bombs on them. But he’s quickly shot down. Meanwhile, the settlers get out in vehicles of their own, taking advantage of the distraction of the tanker. And once they’re all out…

Now, all eyes are on Max and the Marauders! With the assistance of Warrior Woman (Virginia Hey), Feral Kid, and a few more settlers, Max tries to outdrive Wez and his group. And a LOT of shit happens here, so do yourself a favor and watch this video!

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Rebecca and the other two settlers die, leaving only Max and Feral Kid behind. A LOT of Marauders die in the process, and then Lord Humungus catches up. As they shoot out the tires, Gyro (still flyin’, baby!) and some of the Settlers show up as backup. And...yup, another video. Yes, really.

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After ALL OF THAT, Humungus ONCE AGAIN goes the way of Toecutter, and is killed by a head-on collision with a truck. Said truck careens off the road, and Mac and Feral Kid get out. It’s then that we see that the truck NEVER had fuel in it! No, instead it was a decoy! It allowed the vehicles, which actually contained the fuel, to escape to the safe North, away from the gangs.

The Narrator comes back, revealing that he’s the Feral Kid, and that their new leader was Gyro! And the Road Warrior. That was the last they ever saw of him. He lives now...only in his memories.

And THAT...was The Road Warrior, AKA Mad Max 2. WHOOOOOOOO!!! Second verse, same as the first; epilogue at the end of the weekend! LET’S GO PART 3

January 31, 2021: Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome (1985)

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captains-log-reviews · 4 years

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Disney’s Peter Pan (1953)

Summary/Overview:

I’ve been considering a Hook-themed review blog for some time now, and what better way to start off than with the classic 1953 Disney film? Originally slated to be Disney’s second animated film after Snow White, the idea for a production of Peter Pan was in Walt’s mind long before it hit the big screen. Walt himself had played Peter in a school play as a boy and had retained a fondness for the story ever since. The first major film version to feature a boy (Bobby Driscoll) in the titular role, Disney’s Peter Pan has since become perhaps even more widely known than Barrie’s original. That being said, I think it’s probably unnecessary to give much in the way of a summary, but for the sake of developing a consistent format for my reviews, here’s the super quick version:

Wendy Darling, a young girl with an active imagination and a love for storytelling, is distraught when her practical father decides that it is time for her to grow up and move out of the nursery with her brothers. Later that night, after her parents have gone out, Peter Pan—the flying boy hero of Wendy’s stories—shows up at her window and offers to take her and her brothers to Neverland, a magical island with mermaids, “Indians,” and pirates where they will never grow up. Unfortunately the kids get caught up in the plans of Captain Hook, who wants revenge on Peter for cutting off his hand and feeding it to a crocodile. Ultimately, Hook captures the children and nearly kills Peter with a bomb in the guise of a present from Wendy, but Tinkerbell, Peter’s loyal fairy friend, saves him just in the nick of time, allowing Peter to free the children from Hook’s crew and fight the captain in a final duel that results in Hook being chased off into the sunset by the crocodile. Wendy and her brothers return home safely, and Wendy realizes that she isn’t so afraid of growing up anymore...only to have her father admit that maybe holding onto her childhood a little bit longer wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.

What I Liked:

Those of you who followed me over here from my other Hook blog, not-wholly-unheroic, already know that I am more than slightly biased when it comes to Disney’s Hook. I distinctly remember the first time I saw him on screen when I was twelve. The sequel had just come out on video, and ABC was doing its usual Sunday Disney movie (and advertising) by showing the original Peter Pan one weekend, followed by the sequel the next. I was bored and had never watched the film before, so I decided to give it a shot...and I was instantly struck by how different Hook was from any Disney villain I’d previously encountered. While most of the classic villains are motivated by greed, vanity, or the desire for power, Hook’s feud with Pan is at least somewhat justified considering he not only lost a hand but also faces the constant threat of the crocodile as a result of our supposed hero’s actions. Additionally, prior to Peter Pan, Disney’s major villains (Queen Grimhilde/The Evil Queen, Lady Tremaine, the Queen of Hearts) were typically rather flat and lacking in personality. We see only their wicked side (or in the case of “Man” in Bambi, we don’t see them at all!). Hook is a major departure from this trend in that while he is clearly made out to be the bad guy, we also see him in moments of fear, weakness, and self-doubt. We see him sick and in pain and ready to give up at times. Suddenly, he isn’t just a villain anymore... He’s a person we can empathize with. Walt himself recognized that the audience would “get to liking Hook” would not want him to die as he does in Barrie’s canon, opting instead to have him “going like hell” to get away from the crocodile but ultimately still very much alive at the end of the film.

Aside from Hook himself, I love the dynamic he has with Mr. Smee. While Hook admittedly doesn’t treat Smee well, there is clearly a bond of trust between them. Early on in the film, for instance, Smee prepares to shave Hook with a straight razor. It’s a moment that is ultimately used for comedic effect, but when one considers that Hook has a crew full of literal cutthroats, it says a lot about Smee that Hook feels totally at ease with this man putting a blade to his neck. Smee repeatedly attempts to intervene to save Hook when he doesn’t have to, and Hook unfailingly looks to Smee when he’s afraid for his life or when he needs to send someone out to complete an important mission for him. It’s a villain/sidekick dynamic that borders on friendship, and I think it adds a lot to the film and to Hook’s complexity as a character.

As far as artistic choices go, it is a rather minor thing, but I love that they kept the stage tradition of using the same actor for both Mr. Darling and Captain Hook, giving the film a rather dreamlike feel and subtly reinforcing the enmity Wendy feels toward her father in real life as she faces off against Hook in the Neverland. Speaking of the actor, Hans Conried isn’t just voice for Hook, as many would assume... He IS Hook as much as any live-action actor could be. I love the old hand-drawn animation style and how they used to use the actors as live-action reference models. (You can see some shots of Hans as the reference model vs the final images of Hook in the film here.) If you’ve ever seen a recording of Hans in one of his other roles, you’ll notice he doesn’t just SOUND like Hook...he makes the same facial expressions (particularly in how he speaks with his eyebrows) and hand/arm motions. It’s small details like this that make Hook (and all the characters) more human and show just how much time, effort, and love the animators put into their work.

What I Didn’t Like:

RACISM. With a capital “R.” There’s no sugar-coating it. Unfortunately, Disney’s film falls victim one of the many problematic tropes of the time when it was made and portrays the island’s native characters as highly caricatured, ignorant, and—in the case of Tiger Lily—romantically exotic people. Their signature song, “What Made the Red Man Red” is lyrically painful to modern listeners with any sense of decency, and the villagers’ character design—from their bright red skin to their large noses and often extreme body shapes (very fat or pencil thin)—along with their badly broken English is highly uncomfortable, to say the least. On the other hand, Tiger Lily, the most realistically drawn native character, is shown dancing flirtatiously for Peter and subsequently rubbing noses with him in what is meant to be a sort of native kiss (based on the concept of the “Eskimo kiss” which in and of itself is not a politically correct term).

Aside from the glaringly obvious issue of racism, my only real complaint with the Disney film is the music. While the songs are pretty standard for films of the day, I personally don’t find most of the music particularly memorable or catchy. “You Can Fly” is alright, I suppose, but the next few songs have their issues. “Following the Leader” and “What Made the Red Man Red” both have racist undertones, and Wendy’s lullaby, “Your Mother and Mine” puts the kids to sleep for a reason... It’s sweet but rather boring and drags on for far too long to keep the audience’s attention. Less time on the lullaby and more pirate sea shanties, please!

On the flip side, Hook is arguably the first Disney villain to get his own theme song, which is pretty cool. The original pirate song (which you can find here) is a bit more sedate than “The Elegant Captain Hook” we end up with and focuses more on the joys of pirating in general than why Hook, specifically, is someone the kids should want to work for. Personally, I’m glad they chose the song that they did, though I do wish they’d given Hook more lines as originally planned. (You can find the lyrics to the full version here.)

Would I recommend it?

Despite its flaws, Disney’s Peter Pan has had a major impact on the legacy of Peter Pan and how we view the characters as well as Neverland itself. It has long been a personal favorite of mine and acted as a gateway into the fandom for me. It introduced me to Hook as a likable, sympathetic, and complex villain and I’ll always be grateful for that. I definitely recommend it to anyone entering the fandom, those with a fondness for the nostalgia of classic Disney films, and kids at heart of all ages.

Overall Rating:

As much as I love the film and want to give it a perfect score, I’d be remiss if I didn’t deduct at least a few points for the depiction of the “Indians.” Otherwise a lovely version of the story so... 4/5 stars

#captain's log reviews #disney peter pan #peter pan disney #peter pan 1953 #disney captain hook #captain hook disney #reviews #disney reviews #movie reviews #film reviews #captains-log-reviews

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