#This is probably me just watching too much analog horror content | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

efrmellifer · 3 years

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Confluence

Wolmeric Week May 2021, Bonus Day: Mermaid ...okay it's a merman. still. rated PG-13 for suggestive content XD

Aymeric had been escaping his pod for a long time now, slipping away into the warmer waters outside Coerthas. He quite liked the beautiful sights and warm air of the rivers of the Black Shroud. He watched the wildlife passing through, primates and ungulates of every stripe snapping twigs to make him jump and rustling the leaves above his head.

But he’d never seen another being like him.

Not a merman, he knew the clans of merfolk stayed separate on purpose. The sirens, the sand-dwellers, the sun-dappled, and the snowbound. None of them ever met because they were all too far changed from one another.

But he didn’t see the children of man running about the forest; that was what he meant, and what he wanted. Part of it, he assumed, was that he was only free to swim through the streams at nighttime, when they were all in their homes, probably fast asleep.

But he was curious about them, and frustrated that said curiosity was never sated.

Eventually, with a sigh, Aymeric took out his flute and began to play. If he was going to be out here alone, he might as well keep himself occupied and pass the time. It was a while to sunrise, so there would be no use in swimming back to the frigid waters he called home.

But it was as he played the melody that he heard something. Not the usual whisper of the leaves or the crack of a twig breaking. It wasn’t even chestnut falling to earth.

No, he heard… a voice raised in song. It didn’t blend with his playing, so he stopped, listening as the singing came closer.

The singer crested a hill, and he finally got a good look at her.

Maybe it was better that he hadn’t seen so many of the forest’s residents, if they were all so pretty. He slid from the rock he’d been sitting on and back into the water to watch her without being caught.

She may have had a beautiful voice and a face to match, but there were rumors of the land-dwellers’ wicked hearts for a reason. Who was to say what she might do to a merman, all by himself?

Slice off and sell his fins, leave him to dry out and die on a bed of leaves, or just plain slaughter him, any of those were possible. Aymeric didn’t want to take his chances.

But he had forgotten that those on land had keen hearing, especially hunters like her, and the splash the resulted form his entering the water drew her attention, halting her song.

He held his breath, trying to focus on the feeling of the river running over his back as he watched her come closer, crouching at the edge of the water, until her nose was mere ilms from his.

Aymeric swallowed thickly, half scared of what she would do to him and half flustered that she had come so close to him before they’d even gotten properly acquainted.

“Were you the one playing the flute?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Do you do it a lot?”

Again, Aymeric nodded.

“Have I been hearing you every night?”

“I… am not sure.”

“Oh, gods be praised, you talk.”

He blinked. “I do. And it is likely that you have heard me playing more than once. Though I have never seen you before.”

“No, I live up that path. I’ve heard you every night, and tonight I decided to come investigate. Here I find I stumbled upon a merman. I thought you were made up.”

“I assure you, we exist,” he told her with a toothy smile.

“What’s your name?” she asked, extending a hand and taking hold of his water-logged one. “I’m Etien.”

Aymeric had been escaping his pod to visit Etien in Alder Springs for moons now, playing the flute while she sang, the two of them in a duet for the wildlife and the moon, singing a lullaby to the sleeping forest.

He had only found her more beautiful, harmonizing under an errant beam of moonlight, than he had that first night they had met, and they had settled into something of a pair in the meantime, though the matter of their separate worlds was bound to complicate things if they went much further than they had.

Still, he was smitten, and Etien had accepted what passed for his advances. There was little more he could ask for.

Tonight, he lay in her lap, soaking her skirt with the wetness of his hair, and they watched the stars. Well, Etien watched the stars. Aymeric saw plenty of them swimming in his home waters. Instead, he watched her, the way she tipped her head back to see past the canopy of trees.

But it didn’t take long for the sky to lose her interest, and she looked down at him again.

“I always thought the merfolk were supposed to be scaly, razor-toothed horrors, if they existed,” she mused, running her fingers through his hair. “Or is this a disguise to lure me to my watery death? Will you make of me a feast for your cohort?”

“If I were to make a feast of you, I would partake alone, thank you,” Aymeric commented, grinning when Etien blushed.

“A talented musician and a quick thinker,” she said finally. “What a catch I seem to have landed.”

“And here I lay, happy upon your hook.”

She traced the scales on the backs of his hands, then drew her finger up his arm and traced over his collarbone.

“Can I touch your gills?”

Aymericblinked, then swallowed again. He knew exactly how he was going to react to it, and some part of him was scared to be so vulnerable. But… he knew how he was going to react to it, and he knew why that was. He did want her to do it. Still, he may have whipped off that lewd joke, but now to actually be acting on these desires…

“You may.”

Etien’s fingertip was gentle around the edge of the gill, not even touching the seam of it yet. She seemed to know already that she needed to be careful.

He had planned to warn her of that, to take care not to be rough and damage the unprotected organs there, but it died in his throat, only to have a moan push past it as she finally glid over the seam.

“Is that all right?” she asked softly.

“Yes,” he breathed. “More than all right.”

He felt her fingertip on his skin again, still dancing around his gills, simply stroking the skin surrounding as she worked him into something of a lather.

Emboldened by the thrill, he sat up slightly, kissing and nipping at her throat (it was analogous, he figured).

She gasped, and pressed him down into her lap again, bending in half to kiss him hungrily.

“I think I like this even better than the singing,” he commented in a brief parting of their lips.

She laughed, but let two fingers graze a gill, turning his laughter to a sigh.

#Aytien #wolmeric week #a little spicy?

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onthevirgeofdestruction · 4 years

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Plea for My New Self

Sanders sides Vampire College AU - it’s gay - it’s full of fun fluffy tropes - a bit o’ hurt/comfort - mostly fluff

Words: 5,346 Warnings: Arguing, Violence, Referenced Gore (in a movie), food, blood Characters: Virgil, Roman, Patton, Logan, Thomas, Remy, Joan, Talyn Ships: Prinxiety, Anxceit, Roceit, Analogical, Remile, Joan&Talyn Universe: Plea for my New Self Rating: T Genre: Vampire Nonsense

Chapter 30: A Noise Severe

Chapter 1 for New Readers - ffn mirror

Virgil sighed with relief as the film came on, pressing his back into the base of the couch as he relaxed. He had been looking forward to some pleasant murder since Thomas first mentioned it. Virgil hummed a deep, satisfied noise as Logan shifted to get more comfortable in his lap. Virgil wrapped his arms around Logan and enjoyed his company. Logan continued to mess with his bracelet but leaned into Virgil happily. Logan didn’t normally do public displays of affection, but Virgil wasn’t complaining.

Emile and Patton split half of Virgil’s head each, and he didn’t understand what was happening back there. There was lots of tugging at angles that made little sense for their braiding bonanza. He was happy as long as they were vibing and that Emile wasn’t pestering him. The others in his clan felt content. Roman was extremely satisfied in the hot tub. He was one with the bubbles. Deceit may have been cuddling Pat, Virgil wasn’t able to turn his head to check with the bubbly duo doing something strange to his hair. Virgil nuzzled into Logan’s neck while the intro to the film played out.

“Do you like horror films, or are you just here for scientific curiosity?” Virgil muttered into Logan’s neck, taking in the aroma that smelled particularly enticing after growing more hair for his shoulder demons’ amusement. He was perfectly aware he was torturing himself, and he did not give a single fuck. One benefit of being as old as sin is good self-control, even if he was batty.

“For both,” Logan smiled and whispered back. “Horror films are fascinating. I enjoy critically examining the themes and the psychological tricks and tactics meant to instill fear in people who aren’t in any real danger,” He explained cordially, flipping a bead on his bracelet.

“That is another cool thing about horror films,” Joan mused, not taking their eyes off the screen.

“I just like the screams and blood,” Talyn smirked, looking extremely amused. Virgil thought Logan might have had a reaction to the obvious bloodlust, but he seemed just as happy as before as he reclined in Virgil’s lap.

“There’s one less mental voice in here than there should be,” Deceit announced suddenly behind Virgil. There was a pause in which everyone in the room stared at Deceit.

“What?” Thomas asked, looking incredibly baffled out the corner of Virgil’s vision.

“I can’t hear one of you. Joan, I think? What’s your gift?” Deceit inquired curiously, shifting on the couch behind Virgil.

“Oh, you have a telepathy type gift?” Thomas looked intrigued and leaned in Deceit’s direction.

“Not exactly, I know people’s genuine feelings. Near Virgil, I passively hear thoughts. It’s a bit of a nightmare even if it is useful, so I’m always curious about gifts that prevent mine,” Deceit explained, affectionately nudging Virgil’s shoulder when he was mentioned.

“Oh, that does sound annoying. I’ve got negation. It’s a boring one. I cancel out gifts and near Remy, I can also negate physical blows. It’s killer for fights, but other than covering Remy’s territory we’re barely in any conflicts,” Joan replied passively, watching the screen.

“I know, it sucks,” Talyn whined emphatically. The sheer blood lust from them was surprising, but Virgil could relate.

“Roman probably has the coolest gift for both general use and battle,” Remy mused, splashing at the water. Virgil’s eyes shot to Remy in pure confusion. Roman’s look mirrored Virgil’s bafflement and breathless intrigue.

“What?” Virgil and Roman both faltered at the same time, staring at Remy.

“It’s better to tell you now, before you set a bed on fire… you’ve got pyromancy,” Remy said blithely, flicking some water in Roman’s direction.

“Wait, what the fuck? How do you know?” Roman demanded, splashing his hand down in the hot tub.

“Mine’s premonition. It’s also annoying. I lose track of which reality I’m in sometimes,” Remy explained. Wow, no wonder Remy was an already batty for an Alpha with a Brood. Virgil heard Deceit hum in agreement behind him.

“Please, if I had future manipulation I’d use it constantly,” Deceit said flippantly, and the couch shook slightly from a dramatic motion.

“Can we get back to the part where I have freaking fire powers?” Roman demanded loudly, sounding shocked and splashing both hands on top of the water surface.

“I can’t believe you’re not interested in how you set a bed on fire,” Remy laughed boisterously, lazily splashing Roman in return.

“He’s an idiot, I’m sure it has something to do with that,” Virgil joined Remy’s laughter, much to Roman’s disdain.

“Oh, it might still happen,” Remy said smugly, winking at Roman.

“Try to use it!” Patton cheered excitedly from behind Virgil, yanking hard on his hair.

“Do not use fire in chemically treated pool water,” Logan insisted hastily, pointing at Roman.

“Yeah, also not indoors,” Virgil chuckled and shook his head affectionately, stroking Logan’s arm.

“Hey, shut up, the horror part is finally starting,” Talyn hissed in protest to their nonsense. Roman made a variety of upset sounds, but gave up for now and settled on being extraordinarily elated, bobbing in the hot tub.

“Oh, awesome,” Virgil looked back to the TV in anticipation.

‘Pat, how do you use your gift!’ Roman mentally shouted, splashing more water as he begged Patton for answers.

‘Ro, no yelling,’ Virgil huffed and shot a glare to Roman. Patton paused with braiding. ‘He’s got premonition powers, we don’t know if you have them now,’ He rolled his eyes at Roman who glowered back for a second, but he was apparently too excited to stay mad.

‘Maybe I get it this evening! Come on, feed on me,’ Roman goaded Virgil on, and as wonderful as that sounded right now he had higher priorities.

‘I’m watching a movie, I need to see somebody’s freakin’ throat get ripped out before I go mad,’ Virgil thought to them desperately. The smell inside the suite was intense.

‘This is a ghost film, Virge, I doubt there’s throat-ripping,’ Roman thought irately.

‘Don’t I have enough thoughts to deal with in my head right now without these extras?’ Deceit made a dissatisfied noise behind him and bopped Virgil on the head with his cane, probably because he couldn’t reach Roman in the hot tub to do it to him. Virgil sighed inaudibly, and Logan leaned back to look at Deceit in confusion.

‘I want to know!’ Roman shot mentally, the water sloshing around him as he vibrated angrily.

“Babes, quit harassing your alpha or he’s going to attack me,” Remy groaned, splashing water at Roman forcefully, a small amount of excess water landing on the tile around the hot tub.

“Sorry,” Virgil huffed and blew a little loose hair out of his face, grinding his teeth. Roman sighed and sunk into the hot tub bitterly. Logan shifted to angle more towards the movie in interest but didn’t stop playing with his bracelet.

“Emmy, get me something from the minibar,” Remy grunted sourly, beckoning at Emile. Emile hopped up from the couch, dropping a handful of tresses over Virgil’s shoulder. He walked over to the black mini-fridge with a clear door, considering the options before grabbing a few nips of vodka. Emile went to the hot tub and dropped them in Remy’s outstretched hands. Virgil could feel Roman’s frustration, and Patton made a concerned noise. Deceit sighed again, sounding excessively disgruntled.

“Logan, love, can I go handle this?” Virgil whispered into Logan’s ear and stroked his arm in consolation. Logan nodded and shifted off of Virgil’s lap, climbing up to sit next to Deceit on the couch. Virgil felt his hair was half-braided in certain parts, and it felt odd when his hair swayed as he got up off the floor. He went over to the hot tub and twisted his hair into what was possibly the most lopsided bun in existence. After stripping to his boxer briefs, he stepped in next to Roman.

“Cute tats, Virge,” Remy smirked, looking Virgil over as he settled into the hot bubbling water. It felt a little wrong. It surprised him how relaxed Remy seemed in here.

“Thanks,” Virgil nodded and sat behind Roman. ‘Ready?’ He confirmed with Roman mentally, pulling him into his arms on the hot tub bench.

‘What, right now? Here?’ Roman looked appalled at the very concept of Virgil doing what Roman urged him to do a literal moment ago.

‘You’re throwing a clan-wide hissy fit and demanded I come over,’ Virgil stared intensely at Roman.

‘There are people here,’ Roman motioned to the room just barely above the water, looking embarrassed.

‘You’re seriously shy now?’ Virgil glowered at him irately.

‘It- I just don’t think it’s appropriate around others,’ Roman thought nervously, looking around the suite with concern.

‘Do you want to venom, or not? I’m tired, I’m thirsty, my body wants to punch the guy next to us, and I’m missing a horror movie,’ Virgil loosened up on Roman and leaned back in the hot tub, giving Roman his space to decide.

‘It’s, well, it feels…’ Roman turned beet red and sunk partially underwater.

‘I will stick his fangs in your neck myself!’ Deceit shot them both a glare and motioned threateningly with his cane.

‘Your coconspirator is not a fan of all these extra thoughts,’ Virgil looked critically at Roman. Roman sighed and reached around to hold Virgil, shifting into his lap. He exposed his neck and tapped on Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil bit down into Roman’s skin and the rush of fiery blood hit his dry throat like a holy blessing. Finally, some good fucking food.

‘You are incorrigible,’ Deceit thought. Virgil didn’t quite care at the moment. Roman tasted too fucking amazing. He was thirsty from the hair growth and smelling Logan’s neck wasn’t exactly making it better. Virgil got in a few good long drinks before Deceit tapped his cane on the floor. He took that as a sign that he tapped out Roman and sealed the wound. Virgil leaned back in the hot tub with Roman still in his lap, laying against him in a daze. Virgil turned back to the film, feeling very satisfied and rejuvenated by the fresh blood.

They all watched in what was probably very blessed semi-silence for Deceit since he finally relaxed back into the couch and went back to watching the flick. He pressed partially against Patton with a pleased expression. Logan was watching the movie with a vested interest, leaning forward on his legs. The tension in the film was building, and the attack was imminent at this point. Virgil waited with bated breath for some violent action.

When the ghost made its move, Patton and Emile shrieked from the couch, clinging on to each other for dear life. Deceit cackled in delight. Thomas shook his head and chuckled, and Remy looked extremely amused. Talyn watched with unparalleled interest, and Joan leaned back and smiled. Roman didn’t have much of a reaction, probably because he was facing away from the film and blissed out. Virgil’s instincts near Remy were still on edge, but he felt a little more in control with blood and some lovely brutal murder.

Virgil was certain Roman fell asleep while they were watching, which didn’t seem like the best idea in a hot tub. The movie is back to them dealing with the terror over actual terrors, so Virgil hopefully had a minute before there was any more gore. Virgil carried Roman out of the hot tub and dripped his way to the bathroom to towel off the water.

There was a giant standing shower with a bench he propped Roman up against to dry him with a towel. The food should be here soon, so having to wake up Roman to eat conflicted Virgil. Obviously he needed the nutrients since Virgil just fed, but Roman also kept staying up too late and needed the rest. That was probably why he got sleepy when he lost a bit of blood. Virgil shouldn’t have fallen for their pestering and made Roman fall asleep in the middle of a movie party with other vampires Virgil didn’t fully trust.

Virgil sighed and opted to let him nap for the time being. The guy slept like a rock to be capable of sleeping through this, but Virgil tried to be light and gentle nonetheless. He dried Roman off carefully and picked one of the empty rooms to lay him on a bed. He tucked in Roman, leaving him laying on a towel so his swim trunks wouldn’t soak the sheets. Roman was still feeling warm from the hot tub, But Virgil laid a towel over him, anyway.

He went back into the living room and slid his clothes back on to rejoin the movie, though he left his leather jacket on the back of the couch. Patton, Emile, and Logan were now all under blankets on the couch. He had no idea where ever they ran off to find them since Virgil wasn’t gone that long. One of the closets they found earlier could have been a linen closet? Logan would have known, probably, considering he ran around checking everything when they first got here.

Virgil moved to sit back on the floor in front of Patton, but they caught his shoulder. Virgil looked to Patton, and they shook their head and pointed to the spot next to them and looked scared. Virgil chuckled and sat down, letting Patton burrow under his arm, holding on tight to Virgil’s torso. Deceit leaned against Virgil affectionately on the other side. Logan seemed happy with his space, for now. He watched the movie tensely while his hands gripped his knees.

Room service arrived a short while later, and Emile looked ecstatic to have an excuse to look away from the film. Patton also finally left the couch to eat the dinner they intended to at least thirty minutes ago. They both looked like they were watching with wide eyes from across the table as they ate, though. Virgil got up from his seat and went into the bedroom to grab Roman.

Roman was sitting up on the bed looking dazed when Virgil came into the room. He rubbed his face and seemed lost, furrowing his eyebrows, and didn’t notice Virgil enter. Virgil frowned in concern as Roman spaced out.

“Shit, are you okay Roman? Did I take too much?” Virgil stressed, hastily moving to Roman’s side next to the bed.

“Oh, Virge. No, I’m just-” Roman yawned widely and covered his mouth. “-still kinda feelin’ it other than being tired,” He ran his hand through his hair and blinked a few times.

“Well, the food’s here if you want to change and come eat,” Virgil offered his support. Roman took it, and Roman was oddly warm to the touch. “I think you were in that hot tub too long, you’re still pretty warm,” Virgil muttered.

“I feel dandy, I’m just a little out of it,” Roman said cheerily. “Get out of here so I can change,” Roman pointed to the door lazily and Virgil helped him off the bed before leaving back to the couch.

Virgil returned to his spot in between Logan and Deceit. Deceit cuddled up to him immediately. It looked as if Virgil had made it back just in time because murder: part two was gearing up. The swelling of the background music and the close zoom of the camera attracted Virgil’s interest right away. Virgil heard Roman come out and sit at the table with the others, and it relieved him Roman was finally eating. Plus, there was blood everywhere on the screen. Roman quietly uttered a disgusted noise, but there was a splash from Remy leaning forward excitedly and the other vampires all tensing for the kill.

There was a collective sigh as the remains of the foolish homeowner collapsed on the ground. Deceit nodded slightly, maybe to someone’s thoughts. Virgil leaned into the couch happily and Deceit played with the hair at the base of his neck, also relaxing again. They watched out the rest of the film quietly. Patton and Emile must have been too tense to return to the couch because they never moved, but eventually, Roman came back and laid in Deceit’s lap.

When the movie was over, Roman got up to flip through the other movie disks with a curious hum. He still looked very satisfied, but less out of it while he examined the cases.

“Alright, what are you feeling next? Castle of Terror or Mystery of the Marquis?” Roman said, holding the two movie cases up to see.

“What are the descriptions?” Deceit asked lazily, nestled under Virgil’s arm. Roman flipped over the case to read it.

“Castle of Terror has the phrase ‘murder frenzied’ on it,” Roman supplied, grimacing slightly.

“Sold!” Virgil and Remy both called out at the same time.

“Aw, but Mystery of the Marquis is supposed to have neck ripping,” Talyn whined, opposing their selection with some extraordinarily pertinent information.

“That one!” Deceit blurted out eagerly.

“Yass, bitch!” Remy cheered, also changing his mind.

“We can watch all three, we have the room all night and none of you sleep,” Roman chuckled and shook the cases at them.

“Logan would go to bed earliest, hand him the cases and let him pick the next one,” Virgil suggested, pointing to Logan.

“I will stay up tonight. It would be hard to sleep. There is an unsettling intermittent crawling sensation up my spine,” Logan supplied, shaking his head.

“Sorry, Logan,” Virgil frowned. Perhaps he should offer to take Logan back to the dorm again.

“I would have stayed awake even if there wasn’t some kind of strange prey instinct occurring,” Logan shrugged dismissively. Roman passed off the cases to Logan to make his choice, anyway.

“Ugh, I relate. The feeling on my neck is getting a little weird,” Patton agreed, rubbing their neck with a perturbed expression.

“I think the Mystery of the Marquis would be a superb choice,” Logan decided, holding up the case. Roman nodded and took both disks back and loaded up the movie. Remy got up and climbed out of the hot tub to go dry off, walking across the room confidently.

“Emmy, babe, feed Joan before the next movie,” Remy waved as he disappeared into the bathroom doorway. Emile stood from the table and dropped himself into Joan’s lap with a bright grin.

“Come here often?” Emile laughed playfully. Joan groaned loudly and pulled on his arm swiftly to feed on him. Emile’s smile softened, and he relaxed against the chair. Roman came back over to the couch after he loaded the disk into the player and returned to cuddling Deceit. Deceit leaned into Virgil and angled Virgil’s head facing down to steal a kiss. Virgil smiled happily into it and Deceit pet Roman’s hair in his lap. Patton got up from the table and climbed up the back of the couch to sit behind Virgil on the top of the couch. They started playing with his hair again after freeing it from the lumpy bun.

“Did you want to finish the hairstyle?” Their determination amused Virgil, shifting to let Patton slide their feet into a more comfortable position before leaning back again.

“Yes! It will look amazing,” Patton said fervently.

Remy came back out a moment later, tossing a towel on the splashes on the floor. He pulled his clothes back on right after and dragged his foot around the towel to sop up the water and chucked it in the bathroom’s direction. Remy walked over to Joan’s recliner and lifted Emile right out of Joan’s lap. Remy sauntered to the couch, holding on to the out-of-it Emile, and deposited himself on the couch.

“Bring the suffering, girl, let’s get some throat-ripping action!” Remy commanded, pointing excitedly to the TV. Roman sat up enough to reach the remote and settled back against Deceit’s chest. He lazily lifted his arm and pressed play on the next movie before nestling his face and closing his eyes. Logan pulled back up the blanket and leaned back, looking interested in the new movie. Patton kept braiding as the movie started up, and Virgil sighed happily as he stroked Roman’s hair slightly with the arm around Deceit.

This movie was much less eventful in that most of the people in the room were watching it so intensely that the vampires barely moved and the humans mostly shifted nervously. Patton got distracted again from their braiding, but Virgil’s hair felt mostly put together when they stopped and held on tight to Virgil’s head while they leaned forward. The movie had less suspense than the first movie and more brutality, which was incredibly gratifying. It wasn’t so much a mystery as much as it was historians and a greedy person getting slaughtered violently by a vampire. This one might have been by a vampire, it had so much blood and throat-ripping.

Patton buried their face in Virgil’s hair after things got intense every time, and they slid down the couch and hid behind Virgil more than halfway through the movie. They made little squeaks of terror and flinched every time there was a loud noise. Logan threw a blanket over Patton and they didn’t come back out. Virgil held up his arm and Patton slid into it instantly and grasped it tight, laying on Virgil now and hiding behind the blanket. It was very cute.

Other than noises of disgust, Roman seemed to put up with the movie alright. Logan had that expression he sometimes got while taking notes, and Virgil did not understand how to parse that information. If it meant anything, Virgil had no inkling as to what. But Logan was too invested in whatever way he was and didn’t make any tiny noises. Emile was also hiding under a blanket at this point, but he was still watching, his eyes barely peeked out from his safety blanket.

The various vampires, on the other hand, often let out various levels of satisfied hisses and didn’t move much. Remy had a deeply contented grin, Joan and Talyn looked absolutely stoked, and Thomas was rigid, but he still had an invested expression. Remy and Virgil had shot each other a few glares and glances and met eyes, but they held their own despite the growing urge again.

Virgil tried to focus on the movie that was extremely tailored to his murder instincts, but he felt his muscles stiffening. They appeared to have it under control, though, and Remy could just tell them if they needed to change something to avoid an event. Though Virgil wasn’t sure if Remy cared if they started attacking each other. He was unpredictable. Constantly changing things in seemingly strange ways to alter the future probably gave that impression rather than the reality of it.

Virgil was still tense when the film was finally over. Roman got up with a hop from Deceit’s lap, and Deceit looked concerned about Virgil’s hard expression while Roman messed with the movie disks.

“Are you doing alright, love?” Deceit asked quietly.

“I’m fine,” Virgil hissed and gripped Deceit’s shoulder, a little too rough for an affectionate side hug. Deceit didn’t seem fazed, at least.

“Clearly,” Deceit drawled sardonically and rolled his eyes, shoving at Virgil irately.

“Hey, um, is the neck tingling supposed to get worse? Because it feels weird. It feels weird, right?” Patton asked softly, no longer shaken from the film and popping their head out from under the blanket. They hadn’t watched the last half, so it must have been recovery time from their panic.

“Oh, yeah, it’s giving me shivers,” Roman nodded in agreement as he put the next disk in the player.

“Hot tub might help,” Virgil grunted, barely moving his lips to talk. He stared stoically ahead. The smell in the suite was overwhelming him.

“Oh!” Patton perked up excitedly. “Will you join me, Lo-Lo?” They asked, dropping their blanket shield completely.

“That sounds delightful,” Logan nodded and dropped his blanket, then got up from the couch. He offered his hand to Patton and Virgil cautiously released them, trying to keep himself under control. He took a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself, but that was a bad idea. The smell made Virgil grip at his leg and tear a new hole in his pants with his nails. No more air for him.

“Virgil,” Deceit chided with a hard voice. But Virgil was done with breathing, so he didn’t respond. He shot a look to Deceit in response and shrugged. “That’s ridiculous, just go fight again,” He insisted pointedly, shoving at Virgil again.

“I agree. Remington and Virgil need to take it back outside,” Emile replied airily, still a little dazed. “You did get cut off earlier,” He pointed out, lolling his head back.

“I want to fight Deceit!” Talyn suddenly proclaimed and stood from the recliner, rolling their shoulders.

“Alright,” Deceit shrugged, letting go of Virgil. Deceit slid his suit jacket off and started rolling up his shirt sleeves. “But no tearing at the suit,” He added curtly. Virgil exhaled and looked around nervously. He didn’t want a repeat of earlier today.

“Is… is everyone okay with me punching his face in and/or my face getting punched in?” Virgil’s tone was acrid with the strain, but he meant it with concern. He was looking specifically at Logan and Patton standing in front of him.

“Kick some ass!” Roman cheered on the couch next to him. “I’m watching,” He beamed, heading to the patio door.

“I suppose, though I am not fond of the idea of your face being punched in,” Patton crossed their arms and looked displeased but resigned.

“I’ll punch where his liver would be if he was human, then,” Remy said brightly, getting up and dropping Emile on the couch. Emile giggled as he bounced on the chair from the height Remy dropped him. He cleared his throat and fixed his hair promptly when he saw people staring at him.

“Do you have to?” Patton whined, looking sad and pouting out their lower lip pleadingly.

“That feeling on your neck is going to get worse. Just have a nice time in the hot tub and try to remember they’re very hard to hurt and heal quickly,” Emile offered consolingly. Patton nodded, still upset, but headed off into one of the bedrooms in the suite. Logan went to the bedroom next to it but paused in the doorway.

“You will be safe?” Logan asked Virgil, his eyebrows furrowed with concern. Virgil was positive if he opened his mouth he would hiss, and he looked to Deceit to answer for him. He didn’t want to be rude or scare anyone.

“He will be fine,” Deceit reassured him, stretching out his arms. “No gifts and try not to think about your next move or we’ll both be bored,” Deceit said dryly. Talyn bounced in one spot with delight, looking intense.

“You want to just brawl, babes?” Remy suggested airily, a lazy grin on his face spreading to show his fangs.

“Remington, love, please don’t cause property damage. It’s not fair, anyway, it would be unmatched even if Thomas sits out,” Emile chided him, pointing at him with a disapproving expression.

“Aw, but look at him,” Remington pouted. Thomas’s foot was tapping up a storm, and he crossed his arms as he sat on the couch with a scowl.

“I’ll be better once you two shitheads go punch each other,” Thomas hissed, glowering at them. Patton gasped loudly from the room they were in. Virgil didn’t quite expect that language from Thomas, either, but was kind of impressed Patton could hear it behind a closed door. He wondered if they had good hearing before getting venom.

“Let’s take it outside before things escalate any worse,” Deceit pulled Virgil off the couch and started shoving him towards the door to the patio. He was happy to be pushed out of the way because he felt roughly ten seconds from going for Remy’s throat if he moved on his own.

As soon as the fresh air hit Virgil’s nose he breathed with relief, taking a deep breath of clear air. Virgil rolled his shoulders and neck to stretch out a bit, glad to be able to think again.

“It really was fucking bad in there. We should open the windows,” Joan huffed, coming out next behind Virgil. “We should probably scatter after the third movie or Remy and Virgil might go for the neck,” Joan said, eyeballing Virgil’s exceedingly stiff stance as Talyn came outside with Deceit.

“Sounds nice,” Virgil grunted darkly. “Get the fuck out here,” Virgil called to Remy. Remy shot out the door and tried to tackle Virgil, but he wasn’t having it this time and braced against the tackle just to have the angle to punch him hard as Remy rammed into him. They grappled for a moment and they threw Deceit into Virgil. Deceit pushed off of Virgil instantly and went after Talyn again. Roman cheered as Virgil successfully lifted Remy and threw him behind himself. Remy launched off of something to tackle Virgil from behind that sent Virgil rolling.

Roman jeered as Virgil and Remy tumbled around, Talyn getting launched into them at one point, but Virgil’s sole focus on kicking ass without fangs or claws that he longed to use. Remy hissed as Virgil kicked Remy off of him. Joan went flying past for a moment, which confused Virgil, but attacking Remy again was his priority. He felt a powerful blow on Deceit, though, and tossed Remy immediately, launching off to protect Deceit on instinct, landing in front of him and taking a hit from Talyn, who froze as soon as they made contact.

Remy came and tackled Virgil out of the way and they were back at grappling for dominance across the rooftop and over the edge onto which earned a scream from Emile. But Virgil flipped to the building side and managed to throw Remy back up before things got too dicey. Virgil ran up the wall to join him before they attracted any attention.

“Be careful, you fucking idiots!” He heard Joan call as Virgil landed and went for Remy again.

Virgil felt the urge to rip out Remy’s throat fade and he could have more fun with it instead of fighting himself with every hit. Remy smirked and landed a hard hit into Virgil’s side, so he must have been feeling similarly. They tossed punches, kicks, and each other for another few minutes. Roman cheered on Virgil excitedly, and Thomas applauded Remy in turn. Virgil spun rapidly to slam Remy to the patio by the arm, and Remy barely managed to change gravity polarity in time to avoid ruining the stonework.

“Boo! Kick his ass!” Thomas jeered and Remy used his legs to flip Virgil swiftly onto the ground and they tumbled across the tiles. There was an opening for Remy’s throat he nearly took and had to bounce back for a moment.

“What the-” Roman shouted as Virgil bit his own arm, careful not to penetrate his skin, before going back in to attack Remy and landing a punch right in his smug face.

“Having fun?” Remy snarled and swept at Virgil’s legs and kicked him while he was down. Virgil twisted and grabbed Remy’s leg, causing them to grapple for dominance across the patio once more. “Come on babe, just one bite,” Remy hissed and Virgil had to punch him in the face to stop Remy from angling his head to attack.

“I’m not a fucking venom junkie,” Virgil snarled, shoving him away with enough force to send him skidding a few feet. Remy dove to bite and Virgil struggled to push him off, opting to roll to dodge instead. Remy went in for another bite, and then there was a bright flash of light out of the corner of Virgil’s eye.

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hellzyeahwebwielingessays · 4 years

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Superior Spider-Man v1 #2

The context for the above pages that throughout Superior #2 Otto has been trying to have sex with MJ but met with failures. Finally he realizes he can experience having sex with MJ via accessing Peter’s intimate memories of being with her. The nature of Otto’s infiltration of Peter’s body was such that accessing these memories meant he’d literally feel the sensations that Peter felt (or at least remembered) from the experiences.

The scene proceeds to imply that Otto masturbated whilst Peter’s subservient mind watched all this in horror and disgust.

So…this is easily one of the single most abhorrent scenes in Spider-Man history.

I despise this scene so goddam passionately. Let me try to No. Prize it to make it less awful.

Let’s be clear, the intent by the author and artist was clear. Otto accessed memories of every time Peter was physically intimate with Mary Jane and relived them over and over again.

It was undeniably a heavy implication.

However, an implication is not a confirmation.

And with ‘Death of the Author’ Slott or Stegman’s intent or Twitter statements are not tantamount to confirmations.

So where does this leave us?

This leaves us with Otto wanting to have sex with MJ and realizing that as an alternative he can access Peter’s memories of ‘being’ with MJ (that’s the term he uses). Then he accesses the three we see on the page.

Yes, the art and dialogue are implying these are but three of many which include more explicit scenes. These memories themselves might lead to more explicit scenes.

However…we do not see that. That is not on the page. Therefore it is not confirmed.

To elaborate let’s cast our minds back to the infamous Chameleon/Michelle controversy from ASM #603-604. In these issues Chameleon, disguised as Peter, kisses Peter’s roommate Michelle Gonzalez and they go down to the floor together. One of them (probably Michelle) giggles in a sexual way as indicated by the little hearts around the text.

In the next issue Peter returns home in ASM #604 to find Michelle wearing his boxers and t-shirt and acting like she is his girlfriend.

The implication is clear here too. Chameleon as Peter had sex with Michelle.

Fred Van Lente however said otherwise. According to him Michelle and Chammy

did nothing more than make out … There was no sex, and therefore no rape

This was an obvious case of backpedalling because the story stirred up backlash and even coined a term known as Van Lente rape.

It was improper to have done this story and was disingenuous to then cover his ass the way he did. However, technically speaking the idea that no sex occurred is not actually beyond belief.

In truth we did not see what happened on panel so it is up to the reader’s imagination. Even Michelle wearing Peter’s clothes could have an alternative, if improbable, explanation. She was clearly not mentally/emotionally stable and had little respect for Peter’s personhood or property.

For Michelle to be overly presumptuous based upon some kissing or cuddling is not beyond belief.

And as bad as some kissing or cuddling might’ve been from an ethical standpoint, it’s a far preferable interpretation compared to the Chameleon honestly raping someone; in a story for apparently for kids no less.

It doesn’t make Van Lente’s writing justified. But it is a far preferable in-universe interpretation.

So, when stories have wiggle room should we always take the best faith interpretation?

Well, no it’s more like we should take the least damaging interpretation. Even then it depends case-by-case.

In cases where there is wiggle room to not interpret these recurring characters (that are merchandised to children/intended for fun entertainment for old farts like myself) as not rapists?

Yes. We should absolutely take that!

Equally we should take the interpretation that allows for Spider-Man and Mary Jane to be the least violated possible.

It doesn’t mean we should let the creators off the hook for even doing stuff that supports the idea of these guys as rapists.

But it equally doesn’t mean there is no choice but to interpret them that way.

So, using ‘Van Lente Logic’ if you will, it is not an open and shut case that:

a) Otto accessed any memories beyond the three we see on the page or indeed accessed any lurid memories between the two above pages.

Yes he does say that he can relive each kiss or tender moment with MJ over and over.

The key word there is ‘can’.

He ‘can’ do that.

The story does not confirm beyond doubt that he did.

Using ‘Van Lente Logic’ it is theoretically possible he accessed just those three memories and was satisfied with the sensations he got from them. Or perhaps he was satisfied with the power and potential they opened up to him. As in maybe he didn’t experience what having sex with MJ was like, but he knew he could whenever he wanted and that boosted his ego and sent him on a kind of miniature power trip.

Or perhaps he was content knowing he could access Peter’s memories of being with MJ and thus chose to move on and turn his eyes to new ‘conquests’; like Sajani. Let me try explaining with an analogy. Imagine you were keen on finding an episode of a TV show and were frustrated by your failure to do so. Then late in the evening you are delighted to discover that Youtube has a playlist of the entire show that you can watch whenever you want. You check out three random clips and save the videos. You then turn your attentions elsewhere because you are satisfied that you can watch the episodes as much as you want at your leisure.

Hence why Otto might’ve been so satisfied with himself at the start of the second page.

b) That any of them led to sex. Noticeably only ‘Peter’ is in a state of undress in any of the memories we are shown. MJ is fully clothed in all of them. It doesn’t prove anything because they might’ve just had sex or might have proceeded to after the moments we are shown. But it is food for thought.

c) That he masturbated. Perhaps more importantly than the sexual implications of this scene is the implication of timing. Otto is outside, atop a roof, in his costume and removes his mask when he starts talking about accessing Peter’s memories. The sentence then continues into the next panel with all of the memories with Otto’s unmasked face smiling in pleasure.

This heavily implies he accessed the memories right then and there. Why would he masturbate (in costume and unmasked no less) outside on a rooftop in one of the most densely populated city on Earth; there is even a window right behind him?

That doesn’t make any sense. Therefore he must not have been masturbating.

In fairness there are counterpoints to this. Why would Otto randomly take his mask off at all on a rooftop? It’s a safety risk even with his Spider Sense? One might argue that it was because he was preparing to enter his/Peter’s home. This actually supports the idea that he was masturbating because if he’d be most likely to do that in his home. But then why remove his mask prior to entering his home? Especially when there is no sign of other civilian clothes for him to change into. It’d just be Peter Parker unmasked in a Spider-Man costume entering Peter Parker’s home via rooftop or whilst crawling on a wall.

So the location or being unmasked doesn’t necesarilly prove anything either. It’s again just food for thought. Indeed the very next panel is Otto waking up in bed saying he’s slept more soundly and Peter asking him to stop touching his body.

Again, this is a pretty clear implication?

Is there even any wiggle room on this one?

Actually yes but you’ll have to bear with me as I walk you through it.

Okay so analogy time again.

I want you to imagine a target, like the ones you see in archery tournaments with the rings.

Now imagine the dead centre is ‘Established characterization/In character actions’.

That’s what you want to aim for right?

Being as true to the characters as possible.

But of course you can pick up and move the target right? You can place it on the grass. On concrete. On carpet. Wherever.

So those different locations are the different contexts our characters get placed in.

E.g. the target on concrete is Spider-Man reacting to the death of Gwen Stacy. The target on grass is Spider-Man proposing to Mary Jane.

In this analogy we (the people analysing the stories) are the archers and our bow and arrows are our interpretations.

Obviously the aim is to get as close to centre as possible. To get as close to how the characters would act given both their established characterization and the context.

We can take multiple shots at the target but the one we should count the most is the arrow that lands closest to dead centre.

The guy who built the target and chose to put it on the grass or concrete might disagree. But they just built the target and placed it wherever, they aren’t the ones who have to aim and fire at it. In this analogy Slott, Stegman and Marvel are the creators of the target and the guys who decided to put it on the grass or wherever.

What I am trying to say is, our analysis of the in-universe events (not necessarily Slott’s intent or ability to convey that intent) should ultimately depend upon how the characters would act in that context based upon their established characterizations.

So if a guy kills Spider-Man’s girlfriend, he should be angry about it. If Peter proposed to Mary Jane he shouldn’t be holding a gun to her head whilst doing it.

With Superior #2 Slott characterized Otto as creepily trying to rape MJ and obsessed with her as a mere sexual conquest. He wasn’t in it for revenge against Peter. He wasn’t in it as a way to prove his own superiority. He was just horny and wanted her.

However, Dock Ock had never acted this way before. He had been willing to exploit people (including women) for what he saw as higher purposes, like granting him greater scientific resources or preserving his own life; Otto is an egotist, he views himself as the most important thing. However, it was never sexual. And he has pursued or formed romantic relationships with women before that were at most consensually sexual and not really predicated upon his physical attractions to them.

Otto is all about his mind, his intellect, etc. His fiancée was a fellow scientist who was impressed by his mechanical arms.

His affections for Aunt May, even if they were not strictly romantic, were rooted in her absolute kindness and generosity.

His affections for Carolyn Trainer (again, these might not have been romantic and she was fairly attractive) revolved around her admiration of him and her intellect.

His affections for Angelina Brancale/Stunner stemmed from him noticing a outcast kindred spirit.

Even his later affections for Anna Maria Marconi was predicated upon her intellect, admiration for, and kindness towards himself.

We should also consider that it is often true that people’s choice in romantic partners is a result of their relationships with their parents. The old adage of men marrying women like their mothers and women marrying men like their fathers holds some truth to it.

So what was Otto’s mother like? She was a woman unattractive by stereotypical beauty standards (not that there is anything wrong if you like women like that). She was overwhelmingly affectionate to Otto to the point of smothering him if anything. She was highly praise worthy of his intellect throughout his life. She pushed him to pursue a career ‘better’ than manual labour. Otto’s father was a manual labourer and had a strained relationship with his son. Often Otto’s mother would shield him from his father’s insults or physical threats. As a result for Otto, intellect (and his brilliance in particular) was emphasised as an important virtue.

If we compare to every woman Otto was romantically interested in, or at least held affection for (pre-Superior), we can see they were overwhelmingly kind to him and/or scientifically inclined and/or in admiration of him.

So these are all women that one way or another are reminiscent of Otto’s own beloved mother. And some of them were not ‘typically attractive’ either.

Beyond praising Spider-Man’s heroism, Mary Jane (from Otto’s POV) doesn’t fit the pattern at all. Even if Otto was a ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’ type of guy (of which there is no indication), MJ wouldn’t be someone he’d particularly be interested in just for sex. He has never displayed a huge libido for typically glamorous women. Hobgoblin has. Norman Osborn has. Even Electro and Sandman have. But never Doc Ock in spite of being one of the three most recurring villains in Spider-Man’s history.

Thus it is out of character for Otto to have attempted to trick MJ into bed in the first place. And by extension it is also out of character for him to have accessed Peter’s memories specifically for the purposes of sexually pleasuring himself.

On the flipside let’s consider Peter. Peter is actually my trump card for this essay as I think his character actually definitively proves my case.

Okay, so if taken at face value Ghost Peter’s dialogue on the first page seems to convey he’s horrified, probably traumatized, by what he’s witnessing.

However, on the next page, and the pages thereafter, and in all consequent appearances of Ghost Peter in Superior Spider-Man his reactions are….odd

That is to say they are extremely odd for someone who was well…just sexually violated/raped.

Now I’m not by any means saying there is just one way anyone who is raped is bound to act, of course there isn’t.

Nevertheless, for someone who was sexually violated just the night before, Ghost Peter seems startlingly casual. He’s annoyed sure. But he acts like an invisible and silent quipster sidekick complaining to himself off to the side. It is a pattern of behaviour that continues for the rest of the issue and in consequent ones thereafter.

Alright, maybe he’s in denial.

But that seems like a bit of a stretch doesn’t it?

Ghost Peter is a manifestation of Peter’s mind and memories pushed into a subservient position by Otto’s dominant mind. So there is a rather large question as to whether or not realistic (let alone complex) human psychology even applies to him.

Then if you accept you have to consider that he’s not exactly denying that happened. We are talking about acknowledging something occurred but not having anything like a believable response to it. He’s acting like Otto just pissed him off and that’s all.

Well maybe he’s doing what Mary Jane did and putting on a façade of sorts for himself to cope? Except that sort of thing inevitably leads to those emotions coming out some other way. And at no point during Superior or Slott’s run is there any hint that that’s going on. The only reason that worked out for MJ’s character was because the audience didn’t spend that much time following her character intimately.

This then leads me to something I spoke about a long time ago in this essay. To quote myself:

“What this all means is that when we come up against a continuity problem (regardless of whether it’s related to a retcon or not) we have to figure out a solution to it which makes it work based upon the evidence presented in the stories themselves. But it can’t be over complicated or far fetched. It has to be the simplest solution possible which nevertheless answers all of the problems and dismisses the impossible scenarios.”

Maybe what we are discussing in Superior #2 isn’t strictly speaking a continuity error or a retcon. But the principle still stands, the simplest solution is the most logical.

Therefore what’s more simple?

a) That Doc Ock masturbated in Peter’s body to Peter’s memories of having sex with MJ whilst Peter himself was forced to watch in horror and torment, utterly helpless to stop him and then secretly developed a mental issue to cope with this trauma?

b) Doc Ock accessed a few intimate but not really sexual memories of Peter’s romance with MJ which upset and angered Peter. Then Otto went to sleep and Peter was still miffed the next morning?

And before anyone brings it up, Peter’s line about Otto touching his body can easily be interpreted as referring to Otto’s shower, not him having masturbated in Peter’s body the night before.

I know an easy counterpoint to all this is that Peter never acts believably under Slott anyway, so why should we take this interpretation? Wouldn’t it be more likely that Otto did masturbate but Peter is once more not reacting the way a normal person would? Same thing with what I said about Otto.

Well, again, that’s prioritizing intent above everything else.

But more importantly, to go back to my archery analogy, the aim is for our analyses of the in-universe events (as in what canonically happened) to be as close as possible to how the characters would act in context.

Of course so much of Peter’s actions and reactions don’t add up.

But in this scenario we aren’t talking about whether he is appropriately reacting to a confirmed event (like Otto killing Massacre). We are looking at it from the opposite angle. We are trying to confirm and clarify what the event Peter is reacting to was in the first place. As a result it’s far more fair game to take Peter’s reaction as appropriate because that’s the starting point in the analysis.

With Otto it is approaching things from the other end. We know how Otto would act in this situation. Therefore it doesn’t make sense for him to act the way implied. Therefore it’s appropriate to dismiss the implication as it is not a confirmation. The fact that he’s been out of character up until this point is irrelevant beyond pointing to how the author clearly intended for him to act.

But again, Death of the Author applies. Just because Slott intended Otto to have acted a certain way within the context of the implication doesn’t equate to a confirmation of him acting that way.

Anyway, I think that’s enough talk about masturbation for one essay. I’ll go back to my corner now.

P.S. In Superior #27 Ghost Peter claims that Otto accessed 31 memories before deleting the rest of Peter in Superior #9.

Given how active Peter and MJ’s sex life was when they were together if Otto really had accessed they would’ve accounted for a large chunk of the 31 memories he accessed.

And yet after Superior #2 we never see the memories depicted in that issue in any of the various collages or mindscape scenes throughout Superior. Let alone any other physically intimate memories between Peter and MJ. The only other one we see is their first kiss and that’s it.

This lends credence to the idea that Otto actually did not access any private memories involving MJ sans the ones we saw on panel.

#Superior Spider-Man #The Superior Spider-Man #otto octavius #Doc Ock #Doctor Octopus #Dan Slott #mjwatsonedit #mary jane watson #Mary Jane Watson Parker #MJ Watson #spider-man #Peter Parker

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prettyboysdontlookatexplosions · 4 years

Text

magicians 5x04 thoughts, or: everything was stupid but almost nothing hurt?

-kady & fogg teaming up was the best part of the season so far. i am torn between agreeing with @leguin that fogg deserves, with multiple valences of that word, to retire to acidland for infinity, and being upset because i want more fogg! but he got taken off the chessboard last season and came back, so, we'll see. everyone gets to come back on the magicians except... lol.

-alice and julia working as a team is Nice Content my reptile brain enjoys, and "the overlord kind of liked me..." / "OFF the table" was the one bit of dialogue i really liked in this episode. (that is such a grim sentence to type when almost every episode even through season 4 has multiple tiny moments that bring me unspeakable delight which is the weird alchemy of this show... oh well)

-eliot DOES have legs for days, and i am annoyed @ syfy but relieved overall that the promos SO FAR were like lying in terms of their implications about eliot & margo potentially schisming over the dark king... being a competent spy team is much better and i like that they are smart enough to keep important things secret (brakebills, margo's eye). i liked when eliot kind of poked at margo re: her brand and she took him seriously and he smiled, although also sort of feel like that scene maybe should have played with slightly more awareness that he very literally crowned her that? whatever spy buddies! cool! im not 1000% following this plot that closely but i assume that things will be reexplained to me if they turn out to be relevant by the show

-clarion wanting to be human was interesting to me mostly because it edges towards some ideas about god perceptions of humans i've been toying around with as i semi-attempt to outline A Fic With A Plot, which actually now that i think of it the burning of the books does too... i don't really know what to do with that. i like that zelda regrets being a bad mom although also, like, where tf is harriet? i feel like she and kady should be allies at this point now that kady is all Hedge Rights. but probably marlee matlin is too big a get to keep her around regular, which is the kind of tv-ism i can forgive.

-things i CANNOT forgive: 23/julia, the worst pairing any show has ever subject me to, managed this episode to get somehow WORSE? i just don't even know what the show thinks it's doing with julia, who i personally would love to see get her annual 5 minutes of Not Suffering any second now, being put in a position to choose penny's life without magic vs. the whole world......... everything about it is so bad. the way it refutes the show logic re: quentin's death, the way this is framed as equivalent to 23's choice when the alternative was not fucking goddesshood but death...... just..... the decision to add more weirdness and autonomy issues to this horrible pairing.... why. the decision to make 23 even more of a sad knock-off of OG penny just when arjun gupta was getting to have fun again...

-oh my god i can't believe the show tried to have alice and zelda connect about Losing The Most Important Thing re: quentin instead of re: the time alice was a niffin and lost Understanding All Of Magic... which is arguably considerably more analogous to uhhhh a fuckin library???

-the dark king stuff, i feel like the way i feel when i watch a trailer for a thriller or a horror movie. like i don't actually want to WATCH it but i do want to look up the plot twist on wikipedia when it comes out. i wanna know What The Fuck Is The Deal with the dark king, but i'm not like, invested, you know? i never actually did look up the plot of oculus. i feel similarly-ish about plum, whomst is not interesting yet to me, a book not reader, but who i'm like, yeah, sure, i wanna know what the fuck a chatwin is doing being haunted by evil psychic signals, for sure.

-i'm glad sunderland is doing ok and yeah ok i did laugh at the idea of sunderland being insufficiently caught up on the fillory situation, although the meta-joke they added felt like... i dunno i felt like they could have trusted us to understand why that was funny without being explicit about it.

-DAVID ANDERS! this is two episodes in a row they have really tried to court me via guest stars. can we get a recurring bit for jason dohring next

#the magicians #the magicians critical

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buffyversefanfiction · 4 years

Text

Twisted Tristan

Chapter 4 - B Normal Again

Warnings: I do not own or claim to own the original content to “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”, “Angel”, the comics or any of the original characters from the “Buffyverse” all rights belong to Joss Whedon.

15 plus, displays of Violence, Gore, Torture, M/M, F/M, F/F.

Buffy, Faith and Willow remained within the underground sewer tunnels completely broken by their loss by Buffy’s loss as Buffy stood there as a heartbroken mother with no idea where her son could be.

“There’s got to be some way to find him Willow some spell that you can do.” Buffy cried. “He’s my son Willow, my baby boy.”

“I really wish there was some way of fixing this Buffy but when I opened that portal, I backed it up with another spell so if we came back and were captured by one of them whoever escaped would be safe.” Willow explained to her as she shed tears of her own for her missing nephew.

“Find some way of reversing the spell Will find some way of opening the portal Willow I can’t lose my son.” Buffy sobbed as Faith remained silent clearly sympathizing for her friends. “He’s just a baby and he’s all alone.”

“I’m so sorry Buffy I really am that spell was supposed to keep everyone safe.” Willow apologised while trying to dry her tears.

“Safe,” Buffy shouted, losing her temper with Willow. “How can my little boy be safe when we have no idea where the hell you dumped in? What if he’s in some demonic dimension? What if he’s already dead?”

“B Willow would never put the kid somewhere that wasn’t safe,” Faith told her fellow slayer in defense of the redheaded witch. “Wherever your boy is now I’m sure he’s safe from the ones who tried to steal him.”

“Faith I’m his mother I should be with him he’s abandoned in some strange place probably crying for me and thinking I’ve just abandoned him.” Buffy replied, heartbroken by the reality of her situation. “He’s never going to grow up knowing that I loved him more than anything that I’d fight for him until my last breath. He’s going to grow up alone thinking he was unloved.”

“I know B,” Faith said as she walked over to the blonde-haired slayer and placed her hand on her shoulder. “But wherever your son is he gets to grow up and live a life it sucks he isn’t with you for now but at least he’s safe from this madness.”

“I’ll look through every spell book search the worlds,” Willow promised Buffy. “One way or another I will find your son and get him back to his mother.”

“No, we can’t go looking for him,” Buffy replied while drying her tears. “Wherever he is I know you put him somewhere safe which means he’s safe from them and if we start looking for him it gives Wolfram and Hart a chance to get their hands on him.”

“I don’t understand Buffy what you want me to do?” Asked a confused Willow.

“For Tristan’s own safety we tell everyone that he died, and we mourn him and try our best to move on from losing him.” Buffy revealed as her voice began to break. “If they think he’s dead they will stop looking for him and he’ll finally be safe from all this chaos.”

“Are you asking us to lie about Tristan?” Willow quizzed her before admitting. “I don’t think I could do that to Xander to Giles to your sister to everyone.”

“Buffy, Angel already lost his chance to raise Connor because of another god dam portal that sent baby Connor straight to hell only to return as a murderous teenager.” Faith said making her disapproval clear. “Angel may not be able to come back from losing another son.”

“We tell no one!” Buffy demanded with a furious tone in her voice. “As far as everyone will now this was the day my son Tristan Summers died.”

Willow walked into the prison style interrogation room at Giles’ slayer rehabilitation center to find Tristan handcuffed in chains to the table looking far from amused to be in this situation.

“I don’t like seeing anyone shackled in chains and handcuffs so for that I am truly sorry,” Willow apologised as she sat down at the table. “But when you have murderous tendencies precautions tend to need to be put in place to stop us all winding up dead.”

“This place is like some of prison and yet these chains aren’t as weak as the ones they used on me in prison.” Tristan replied before going on to ask. “Where the bloody hell am I?”

“My friend Giles prefers to call this place a slayer rehabilitation center prison’s kind of a touchy subject around here.” Willow admitted to him.

“So, basically I’m locked up with a bunch of deranged slayers.” Tristan scoffed. “Figures you lot would come up with a prison for your own kind.”

“Tristan, that’s an interesting choice of name.” Willow responded to him. “Who named you Tristan? Do you have any family?”

“No offense red but I’m not going to sit here and give you the dirt on the ins and outs of my life.” Tristan snapped at the witch. “I suggest you let me go before I have to go to the trouble of breaking myself out which I promise will be a pretty bloody prison break.”

“Tristan you have murdered several innocent defenseless humans not to mention your rather large murder count on slayers.” Willow snapped back at the raven-haired murderer making it clear she wasn’t scared of him. “We are going to keep you here at all costs until we believe that you will no longer be a threat to anyone which is a pretty good deal considering a prison would sentence you to life.”

“I find it hilarious how Willow Rosenberg is talking about me being the threat when your death count is rather intriguing yourself.” Tristan laughed cruelly. “I heard you once skinned a man alive before literally trying to end the world.”

“That was me during my darkest period but I’m not that person anymore.” Willow admitted. “We have helped many people escape their own darkness and taught them how to use their special skills for good instead of evil. I know you just lost the person you love, and I know how hard that is, but we can help you through it through all of it if you let us.”

“What is this some kind of widows club meeting?” Tristan asked clearly not impressed with Willow mentioning his recently deceased vampire lover. “I say you take these chains of me and I test how truly powerful you really are.”

“I know how delicious the darkness can be and I know how hard it can be to pull yourself out of it once it’s taken a hold of you but trust me evil maybe alluring but it costs you far too much.” Willow replied to try and get through to the troubled man. “But when you fight it when you come back from it and get to some form of normal again it helps heal those wounds.”

Willow walked out of the interrogation room and into a hallway within the rehabilitation center to find Faith anxiously waiting for her knowing she was hoping for her to say there was some hope for Tristan’s redemption as Willow feared there was no redeemed this long black haired psychopath.

“If this was a horror movie, he’d be the Chucky to your Tiffany,” Willow said to the redeemed slayer as she walked towards her. “Oh, great now that analogy is going to be giving me nightmares tonight.”

“Okay so what’s the next move then?” Faith asked her eager to know her thoughts about the man she found herself strangely caring for.

“To be honest Faith I think that guy is more in need of a psychologist instead of a witch but you were definitely more scary back in your vicious villain days so if you could turn your life around maybe there’s some hope.” Willow replied hoping to reassure Faith.

“Do you find there’s something off with him?” Faith asked the witch. “For some reason I want him to want redemption more than I wanted my own redemption.”

“Are you sure this obsession for him isn’t because of his name?” Willow asked her.

“It’s not because of some name a thousand other guys have there’s something different about this guy he’s as strong as a slayer yet not a slayer and he’s human it makes no sense.” Faith tried to explain her fascination with the raven-haired man. “Stay here for a bit longer and do your digging thing I need you to find out as much about him as possible.”

“I can’t deny my interest in finding out what this guy is but I should really be getting back to Buffy I don’t like leaving her alone for long especially since Dawn and Xander jetted off with baby Joyce to some weird hippy dimension.” Willow admitted to Faith.

“Come on red Buffy’s been a recluse for three years now and I totally get why but she’s still a bad-ass bitch who is more than capable than looking after herself for a while.” Faith reassured the witch.

“You’re right,” Willow admitted before taking a deep sigh. “I’ll look into this guy, but I make no promises I’ll actually be able to find out anything new.”

For a rehabilitation center specialized in helping slayers reform themselves and seek out to amend their dark path Giles’ slayer rehabilitation definitely looked a lot like prison especially for Tristan who had found himself locked up in a pretty bare prison cell sitting on the floor while bouncing a small bouncy ball against the wall.

“If your hoping to make some great escape by cracking the walls with a bouncy ball you’ll be spending a real long time.” Faith revealed to him as she walked into the room and stood outside of his cell. “You see the guy who runs this place was the watcher to Buffy and me very briefly, so he practically knows all the tricks in the books on how to lock up us super powered folk.

“Us super powered folk live outside of the laws that the normal people push upon the weak or at least we did.” Tristan replied as he stood up and walked over to the prison gates. “Leave it to a bloody watch to try and force laws upon the supernatural.”

“Yeah I’m not exactly a big fan on this whole project but it’s better than letting you go around killing people.” Faith admitted to him.

“I wonder where they keep the less pretty monsters for rehabilitation?” Tristan asked in a sarcastic tone. “Just fucking with you I know whatever you guys don’t consider human just gets dusted or killed without any chance to reform but hey we can’t complain that we’re privileged by looking like humans.”

“Keep an extra eye on this guy.” Faith said to the female slayer guarding Tristan’s cell after walking away from the long black-haired man.

“I’m sorry Faith but we don’t have enough resources to keep any more eyes on him he’s not our only prisoner.” She replied before going on to say. “Client.”

“I’m not asking for a god dam favour I’m making a demand.” Faith shouted at the guard causing Tristan to laugh to himself. “Get one of your prison guard wannabe slayerettes to help keep an eye on this guy before I show you why people don’t tend to piss me off.”

Faith walked back into the hallways of the so-called slayer rehabilitation center to find that this time Willow was the one anxiously waiting for her which could only mean one thing the clever little witch had already found out something about Giles’ latest prisoner.

“This prison rehab or whatever the hell Giles wants to call this place isn’t right for Tristan don’t ask me why I just know it’s not.” Faith said to Willow as she walked over to her.

“I agree,” Willow admitted while looking like she had just seen a ghost. “I agree so much more than you could believe.”

“You found out something juicy, didn’t you?” Faith asked excited to get some new information on Tristan. “What did you find out?”

“Give me a moment,” Willow snapped before Faith noticed the room spinning leaving her feeling dizzy before they disappear out of sight only for the two of them to reappear in the middle of somewhere nearby woods located a few miles away from the slayer rehabilitation center. “This play is far more discreet.”

“Next time let’s try walking here,” Faith said to her as she tried to calm her dizziness caused by Willows’ magic. “Why is this so top secret anyway?”

“Trust me Faith when I say the minute, I found out this info on Giles’ latest prisoner I needed out to get the hell out of sight because nobody can overhear what I’m about to tell you.” Willow revealed to her. “I ran his DNA into the criminal database which I swear gets easier to hack into every year and I found multiple records he racked up along with a bunch of fake names before finding out his surname was Black on his birth certificate only for him to change it himself when he was eighteen but that wasn’t even the strangest thing I found it. I then hacked into several hospital records putting everything online these days really isn’t a smart move and well anyways I found out that his original birth certificate was faked and there was no actual proof of Tristan Black-Summers’ birth.”

“Okay consider me well and truly lost Wills.” Faith admitted to her confusion while trying to work out what Willow was leading towards.

“I then went through all hospital records across the whole of America and found only three living candidates that were blood relatives to Tristan.” Willow continued to reveal.

“You did all that with such a short time Jesus no wonder no-one could beat Buffy back in the day with you by her side.” Faith replied shocked and proud of Willow’s research methods.

“Those three blood relatives were Buffy, Dawn and their father.” Willow divulged completely stunning Faith in the process.

“So, if I’m right little miss goody two shoes has a psycho in the family who literally stole the name of Buffy’s son.” Faith said while trying to make sense of Willow’s findings. “Is he a cousin, a long-lost brother…”

“Come on Faith you’re smarter than that I’m sure you can put the pieces together.” Willow replied while slightly mocking her friend.

“Oh, my freaking god,” Faith answered her as she finally realized. “The portal you put Buffy’s son three years ago was a portal to the past and the boy grew up to be the psychotic prisoner Giles is currently holding who is now only a few years younger than his freaking mother.”

“Tristan Black really is Tristan Summers.” Willow admitted. “He’s Buffy’s son and I have no idea what we’re supposed to do about this.”

Tristan once again found himself chained up and handcuffed to the table in the interrogation this time waiting for the founder of the slayer rehabilitation center wondering if he, Willow or Faith had found out his true identity fearing the truth would be spilled before he was ready to use it as his latest weapon.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite kidnapper.” Tristan joked as Giles walked into the room and sat down at the table.

“I would prefer it if you stop calling me your kidnapper and start calling me Giles.” He replied to him.

“You know what Giles you’re lucky I have a thing for older men,” Tristan flirted with his mother’s former watcher and his mother’s one-night stand. “But next time you want to get a little kinky I think it’s only fair that you’re the one being chained up.”

“Faith seems to have quite the interest in you Tristan why is that?” Giles asked Tristan completely ignoring Tristan’s attempt at flirting.

“The girl is clearly obsessed with me for some reason but she’s barking up the wrong tree.” Tristan told him noticing he was making Giles blush. “You’re much more my type to be honest I bet your wound up tighter than my chains I promise if you’re brave enough to cross the table, I’ll find a way of loosening you up.”

“I want to talk to you about your upcoming psychological evaluation.” Giles said to him in a desperate bid to change the subject.

Faith and Willow took some time walking through the woods nearby the slayer rehabilitation center as Willow explained to Faith that she must’ve sent Tristan when he was a baby into a past in which he was adopted by a family before eventually learning his true identity as they began to puzzle together how Tristan went from an innocent baby to someone so twisted.

“I can’t get over the fact that Tristan Summers should be three years old not in his 20s wanting to kill everyone.” Faith said in disbelief as she tried to understand the complicated turn of events that led them to this situation.

“The only thing that has kept me going that has kept Buffy going is picturing Tristan having this perfectly normal life, but that boy is far from normal.” Willow admitted to her. “I can’t begin to imagine what his life has been like all these years or what he must’ve went through to wind up where he is now.”

“Simple really he fell in love with a vampire very much like his mother then he killed a bunch of slayers not so much like his mother.” Faith joked trying to make light of the situation. “The real question is how the hell did he become so damn strong?”

“Well we know children of slayers don’t usually develop their powers but at the same time we know Connor developed special abilities from being a son of two vampires so if you take into notion his parents are a slayer and a vampire then his strength makes sense which is the only thing about his entire life which actually does make sense.” Willow explained to Faith. “Poor Angel we told him his son had died and now he’s back wanting him dead as much as everyone else.”

“He’s going to hate me for keeping this from him.” Faith feared. “I never wanted to lie to him in the first place I knew it was going to come back and bite us all in the ass.”

“There’s also the worrying factor about Wolfram and Hart I mean if I figured this out with a little research it won’t be long till they work things out and start looking for Tristan again.” Willow worried.

Tristan was once again back in his prison cell bouncing his bouncy ball against the wall harder and harder the sound clearly annoying his female slayer guard who gave in to his annoyance much to his own delight.

“Would you...” She began to ask but before she had a chance to finish her question Tristan launched the bouncy ball into her mouth catching another female guard’s attention who began rushing over to the choking slayer all while playing into Tristan’s hands.

Before the other guard could get to her fellow slayer Tristan quickly grabbed a hold of the choking woman’s neck instantly snapping it before grabbing the keys out of her pocket and throwing her lifeless body onto the ground as the guard look at him in complete shock and horror, Tristan using the remaining guards state of shock to quickly unlock his cell gate and walk out of his prison.

“What the hell did you do you’re monster?” The guard screamed at him before charging towards the callous murderer only for Tristan to push his gate open once again so the gate slammed against her face before the two began to fight.

The fight doesn’t last long before Tristan got the upper hand of the girl, grabbing a hold of her neck and snapping it just like the other guard as the second slayer’s lifeless body fell to the floor.

“Okay listen up bitches!” Tristan shouted down the hall noticing the many slayers in their many cells. “It’s time to get our own back on these bloody bastards for thinking they can lock us up like animals.”

Tristan wasted no time in making a run for it as he ran through an empty hallway before reaching a large window in which he looked out of horrified to discover nothing but a huge drop towards a large ocean before turning back around to see Giles standing in front of him holding a gun.

“No offense darling but I’ve had my fun and now I’m bored so it’s time for me to get the hell out of here.” Tristan told him.

“You killed two of my girls like it was nothing to you.” He shouted clearly furious by his loss at Tristan’s hands.

“You should never cage an animal and expect it to just follows your rules.” Tristan replied with a smug smile. “This little operation of yours is a complete failure.”

“Stay there or I will shoot.” Giles warned him. “I will shoot you.”

“Please you’re boring old librarian trying to redeem a bunch of wayward slayers you’re hardly going to shoot me.” Tristan laughed. “Although I do love it when you flirt with me.”

“You wouldn’t be my first kill.” Giles admitted to him.

“Okay this flirting is getting stale now.” Tristan said as Faith and Willow appeared from around the corner just in time for Giles to fire his gun three times.

Two bullets hit Tristan’s body with force one hitting him in the chest and another in the stomach while the third one hit the window causing the glass to shatter while the force of being shot threw Tristan backwards until Tristan fell out the window causing both Faith and Willow to scream out in horror.

A panicked Faith quickly ran over towards the window desperate to see some sign of Tristan only to be left horrified to see nothing but the ocean.

“I had no choice he already killed two of my girls.” Giles told them before Willow walked over to the former watcher and harshly smacked him across the face.

“You just shot and probably killed Buffy’s son.” Willow said to him with a cold stare completely furious by Giles’ actions. “He didn’t die we placed him in the past to protect him and after all this time we finally found him only for you to kill him.”

Willow left Giles in shock by her revelation as she walked over to the window to stand by Faith’s side as the two girls looked down to see nothing but ocean fearing that Buffy’s son wouldn’t have survived the fall even if he managed to survive being shot.

Tristan’s seemingly lifeless body washed up on the shore of a beach front completely motionless looking like he was dead, but his story was far from over his story was just about to change to the next chapter.

Suddenly Drusilla appeared from out of the nearby woods rushing over to the man she considered to be one of her children before lifting him up into her arms looking at him in the exact same way, she looked at him when he was just a baby.

“Oh no my little baby boy what they have done to you?” She said to Tristan’s unconscious body while continuing to carry him as she walked towards the woods. “But don’t you worry my littler cherub mummy is back now and I’m going to make you all better again.”

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pastelbandana · 5 years

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DSCF Chapter 12

Read it on AO3 here!

Suddenly, everything was black. Pitch blackness on all sides, no light in sight. It was as if someone had flicked off the light switch in a room, except this was the light switch to Saihara’s entire world. That in itself was terrifying. What came next even more so.

When he went to cry out for the other two, thick liquid filled his mouth and forced its way down his throat to his lungs. His eyes went wide. He felt himself fighting not to swallow his tongue. In his panic, he sputtered, and tried to take a breath of air and push the liquid out of his mouth. Finally, against every instinct, he shut his mouth, pressing his lips together so intensely tight they trembled against each other. That did not change what was already done, though. Saihara felt his lungs burn. Even when his lungs struggled to breathe through the dust and rubble of the collapsed school, it was nothing like this.

His body thrashed as he tried to struggle, but it felt like he was being held underwater by some invisible force he could not seem to win against no matter how hard he tried. A small part of his brain wondered if this is how Hoshi felt when he was dying, and sorrow rivaled his terror and desire to survive for a brief moment. The difference between a quick death—such as Chabashira’s—and a slow or drawn out death—like Hoshi’s or any of the executed—was the amount of suffering they had to go through. At least with a quick death there was no suffering. But this was crushing dread and terrifying despair.

Even with his hatred of criminals and murderers, he never would have wished this kind of punishment against them.

With every passing second, Saihara’s struggling grew weaker. His muscles ached like his lungs, desperate for some form of oxygen to keep them going.

Such a damn waste, Saihara thought so bitterly. Had he not been underwater, he probably would have let a few tears slip from his eyes. Such a damn waste that I made it through everything, only to die like this.

What “this” was, Saihara didn’t even know, and that made it worse. About to die from something he had no control over. An invisible enemy. Unable to focus, happening too suddenly, he surrendered to cold blackness, welcoming death’s slumbering embrace.

Feeling his body growing more distant—as if he was leaving it—Saihara gave a bitter smile.

Such a waste.

And with that, his thoughts silenced.

***

When he awoke, he was surprised. He did not expect to be alive.

Then again, was he? Had he ever been “alive?”

“Oh, you’re awake,” a voice said, and Saihara felt his heart leap into his throat at the sudden noise, looking around for the origin. In the corner of the room, a man sat, staring at him with amused eyes. He was wearing an all-black suit and pants combo, and his hair was neatly groomed. He held a clear air of professionalism, yet his slouching imposed a kind of relaxed atmosphere and worked to contradict his physical appearance.

“Who are you?” Saihara asked.

The man waved him off. “Don’t worry about the specifics, kid. I’m just here to tell you what you need to know now.”

Saihara pursed his lips at this. That the man wouldn’t give him his name was something of a concern to Saihara, but nothing too big. There were plenty of people who Saihara knew who were simply nameless figures in his life; this should be no different.

“You said you need to tell me what I ‘need to know?’” Saihara asked with a raised eyebrow.

The man nodded and reached to his side, pulling onto his lap a briefcase.

“Where even are we?” Saihara asked, hoping the man would at least answer him that.

The man seemed to think it over for a second before nodding to himself. “Depends on your view of what this is,” he said.

“What?”

Once again, the man waved him off. “Like I said, don’t worry too much about it. No matter what I tell you, you’ll make your own conclusions in the end, won’t you?”

Saihara huffed, his face beginning to show a hint of anger. “Are you going to tell me anything?”

“Sure I am! Didn’t I tell you I was going to tell you what you need to know?”

“Anything I want to know.”

The man shook his head and sighed. “What you want to know is not what you need to know. You’re like a kid whose mom has five bucks right now. You want to go blow it at the candy store, but she knows the house needs water. So, whether you like it or not, you’re getting the water.”

“What about if we get the water and there’s money left over. Then can I get the stuff—candy—I want?” Saihara asked with a glare. The analogy was stupid, but he went along with it. Anything to try to get the man to understand or help him was something in Saihara’s book.

The man hummed and did not respond. Instead, he opened up the brief case and pulled out a few stacks of paper. They were thick and Saihara could only guess that the stapler had a few problems stapling them together if the marks around the edge of the paper were anything to go by.

The man locked his brief case back up and put it back on the floor next to the chair. With a heave, he stood up and walked to Saihara’s bedside, who watched him with a weary look.

He dropped the papers in Saihara’s lap, making him look down instantly.

“Here’s what you needto know,” he said.

Picking up the first packet, Saihara looked at the title.

His blood ran cold.

“W-What is this?” He asked, a horror creeping into his voice.

The man sighed and walked back over to the chair. He grabbed his brief case and the chair and dragged them to Saihara’s bedside. Once he was content with the chair’s placement, he sat down. Saihara was still looking at him, his eyes wide.

“Legal documents,” the man responded. “I know they might be hard to understand. That’s why I’m here, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about it?” The man pointed to the documents on Saihara’s lap. “Shouldn’t you be more concerned with those things anyway?”

“You said they were legal documents?” Saihara asked. “Why?”

“You got in trouble or something, kid.”

“Trouble?” Saihara asked. His mouth felt dry, yet he refused to look back down at the papers. He already knew what kind of trouble he was in and, most importantly, why.

The man shrugged. “Don’t know why. No one really knows why. Apparently, this is the first time this has happened. No one knows how to handle this type of situation.”

A small knowing smile pulled at the corners of Saihara’s lips and he twitched. “And this type of situation is…?” He asked, trying to prompt the other man into confirming his thoughts.

The man blinked, before a look of recognition flashed in his eyes. “Ah, yeah. I forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

The man hummed, low and slow and calm as if he were removed and unaffected by the whole thing. “Congratulations,” he said.

Saihara had expected the man to elaborate, but when he didn’t, Saihara sighed and prompted the man. “Congratulations?”

For the first time, Saihara saw a smile spread across the man’s face. It was abnormal, as if he had never quite found something so amusing in his entire life; as if this were the first time he was being truly thrilled by something.

“Surviving and, more importantly, giving Team Danganronpa the biggest middle finger anyone has ever given them before.” The man paused to give a low laugh. “I hope you’re happy, kid. You’ve got a long road ahead of you now, so don’t think your part is over.”

Saihara let a smile of his own spread across his face. He was sure it was nothing like the other man’s. Saihara’s was gentler and filled with knowledge, yet a hint of pain glossed his eyes.

Of course. What kind of person would he be if he didn’t finish what he started?

***

Saihara placed the tea cup down on the table, watching as the remaining liquid within rippled.

It wasn’t often he thought of the first few days he was here, but, when he did, he usually thought about that man. The man had been right: the road he had chosen was long and was painful. Yet, with all the progress the three of them had made, he felt a certain pride blooming in his chest knowing it was the right one despite anything that would happen to him.

He’d thrown away all concepts of self-preservation when it came to fighting against Team Danganronpa. He began to value his life as something to preserved for the sole concept of finishing what he’d done, but he cared little about what they did to him in any other way.

He turned his eyes towards Harukawa, not at all startled or surprised when he saw her face.

Complete hate.

He sighed and wished for another sip of the tea if for no other reason than to give him an excuse to stay quiet for a bit longer.

Gathering up his courage—even though he already knew the answer and seething response he would get—he asked, “What do you think?”

Her face whipped up to face him, her eyes set in a fierce glare. Saihara had the faintest idea she’d forgotten he was there in her reading—lost in memories, perhaps—but said nothing of it.

“I think you still don’t understand,” she hissed. Her lips pulled down into a frown. “Do you?”

“Of course I do.” He tried to keep his own facial expressions and voice even and neutral. There was no use in getting her more on edge than she already was. “But you have to understand—”

“All I understand is that you don’t know what you’re doing.” She paused for a moment but continued, asking a question that had been nagging her throughout her reading. “Do you even know which side you’re on? Are you even on our side?”

At this, Saihara could no longer keep his expression calm, slipping into a confused, yet offended look. “Are you accusing me of working with Team Danganronpa?”

She pursed her lips and looked back down at the paper. Saihara’s fingers wrapped themselves into a fist, his nails digging into his palm. He would never hit Harukawa, it was just his frustration making him do something with his hands.

She looked him in the eyes for a few more moments before she broke eye contact. She sighed and pulled at the end of her hair for a brief moment before relaxing. “No. I’m sorry. That was…” She trailed off, unable to finish her apology. But it was understood well enough by Saihara. He smiled and gave a small laugh.

Yumeno, on the other hand, was not done with Harukawa.

“…Wrong of you?” She finished the sentence with a brief glare sent towards Harukawa.

Harukawa looked down and sighed. “Yes.”

Yumeno huffed and tried to pry the papers out of Harukawa’s hands, who gave in after a moment of thought.

Yumeno waved the papers back in forth in the air. “What’s so bad about these?” She asked. She still had her normal lazy drawl, but there was a determined undertone to her voice that grew stronger with each day.

The first day they had all awoken had been the worst. They had seen each other on their way to this part of the hospital, but they were denied any communication until everything was explained to them. It had caused quite a panic, going from the game world to the real one again. They were unsure of anything—their being, their reality, their everything. When it was explained to them, their emotions had run even higher to the point where they became distrusting of everything including their fellow survivors.

Yumeno had emotionally taken the explanation both the worst and the best, and it was clear between the other two that some of those negative emotions still lingered.

“Saihara is far too timid in his demands.”

Saihara wanted to tell her he’d thrown away his concept of being timid at the minimum of twice now. Once in the game, and then again when he reached the point where he realized he didn’t quite care what Team Danganronpa did to him with every move he made to push them back.

Instead, he said none of his thoughts, letting them clear from his brain and throat with a sigh. “It’s negotiation, Harukawa,” Saihara said.

Harukawa glared at him. “You are going to let them walk all over you if you negotiate like that. Not to mention we shouldn’t even be negotiating with them. Look at what they’ve done.”

“Look at what we’ve done to ourselves,” he responded.

Yumeno hummed, her eyes scanning the beginning of Saihara’s letter. The other two grew silent, waiting for her to finish.

There was an unspoken rule between the three of them that it wasn’t worth it to fight over anything, or at least not fight for long. There were three of them after all—the perfect number for tie settling.

That being so, Saihara could never predict the actions of the other girl with accuracy. She was often the tie-breaker in his and Harukawa’s little spats over this subject, and it was as good as a coin flip what she would say.

“We’re never going to get anything done like this,” the girl whined.

Saihara shook his head and grabbed the tea, taking another drink of it.

“I get it,” she said. “And I know you want to go slow with them. But—” She cut herself off to take a deep breath, and Saihara noted how red her face was and the way her eyebrows were pulled together in an annoyed look. “It’s still so frustrating!”

“Barking demands at them like we are the ones in charge will make it a thousand times more frustrating, I can assure you of that,” Saihara said.

“It’s like no matter what we do, we can never win,” she said.

A small smile tugged at the edges of Saihara’s face, and a quick glance at Harukawa told him she was thinking the same thing.

He laughed, whole heartedly and set the tea back down, giving a quick glace down to the now sloshing liquid as he stared into Yumeno’s eyes, a fierce feeling growing in his heart.

“Well,” he smiled. “It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve overcome something we could never “win,” would it be?”

***

They had called it a “treat.”

Ouma called it an insult.

If they thought he was putting that anywhere near his mouth—

“Are you gonna eat that?” Momota asked around a mouthful of food.

Ouma glared at him. “No.”

Momota made a sort of ‘give-it-here’ gesture. Ouma pulled the dish closer to him.

Momota scowled and swallowed his food before asking, “Hey, what gives?”

“If I can’t have it, why should you?”

“Well, I mean, it’s not that you can’t have it, but more like you’re being a stubborn brat who doesn’t want it. Sooo…” He reached for the plate and Ouma slapped his hand away. “Ugh. Dude, c’mon.”

“Nope,” Ouma responded, false cheer oozing from his tone.

“What’s up with you anyway? I mean, it’s pretty normal for you stare into space for extended period of time, but you’re like glaringat that food. Food that’s done nothing wrong to you, might I add!”

Ouma glanced around, biting his lip. The feeling of being watched was always strong, but whenever he turned his head to look, no one was ever watching. He could have sworn a few times he saw their heads whip before he could catch their eyes, but uncertain about it all, and not being able to do something even if it was true, he had no reason to start a ruckus, even among those at the table.

So instead he just whispered, “Later,” and tried to keep his shoulders relaxed and not bunched up as if he was a tense, paranoid rat shoved in the corner.

Momota groaned, but shoved another bite of food into his mouth, making the same noises one would make if they were trying to convince a child the canned mush being shoved in their face was going to be some top of the line, three Michelin stars, executive chef made gourmet meal.

The only baby Ouma could see at the table was him, so he figured it might be a way to convince himself to eat it. There’s no other way anyone could stomach it.

***

Night fell and Ouma was jittery. It wasn’t the normal kind of nerves he got, it was something worse. It was this feeling inside of him that this was going to be something that changed him; some deep, unplaceable visceral feeling as if his world was about to be turned on its head. He had a reason to feel like that though—he’d put a lot of effort into his time at the hospital, and now he was about to harvest but a small portion of the crop with the hopeful thought that it could turn into something even bigger. Whatever he discovered or learned tonight, it was not going to be a total bust in any way, shape, or form. (Even if it revealed something only about Saihara, that was enough for him to feel satisfied at this point.)

Stepping out of bed, everything was set the way he wanted it to be. He had memorized the code that Saihara had given him, but checked it over once more to make sure.

Next, he approached the door, creaking it open slowly at first as always before stepping out.

He scurried behind the desk, and chose the desk facing the door the nurses usually went behind for the night. That way, he figured, even if the light from the computer was bright at first it wouldn’t hit under the door. A small, and maybe useless, precaution, but he’d rather be safe than be caught less than a minute into this operation.

This was a chance he was not going to waste.

He turned on the computer and, like he anticipated, the light almost stung his eyes it was so bright and he had to look away for a second to blink the wetness out them. But when looked back, the lock screen was greeting him.

His fingers were slightly shaky, but he typed the information in with motions so deliberate a brain surgeon would be proud.

The clicking of the keyboard was almost as bad as the screen as bright as the sun that was shining on him, and it made him wince, but nothing he was too scared of the nurses hearing.

Now, Momota was a person he was scared of hearing him—but Momota had sworn to stay in his room even though he would probably be vibrating around in there out of suspense with enough force to shake his bed.

Double, triple, and quadruple checking that he had everything right, he pressed the enter key.

The screen went pitch black for a second. Not the one-second-black-while-it’s-booting-up kind of black either, but this black as if someone had turned the lights off in a room with no windows or light source, the deep black that was synonymous with a never-ending descent into an endless abyss.

And then a shape came onto the screen. But not all at once. It was a slow thing that if Ouma’s heart didn’t feel like it was lodged in his throat he might have admired. The shape slowly filled with crimson red, as if it was a syringe being filled with blood. It was curved, yet sharp at the same time—as if it could not decide what it wanted to be. He had no idea what it was supposed to be. (An eye, some horribly anxious thing deep inside informed him. Kind of like the bear’s eye he doodled what felt like so long ago.)

Then around it grew a circle, thin but with some weight to it. Then, more lines, with blocks forming between and on top of them.

And then, finally, DR. Straight in the middle, as if it was hitting him with a bullet bullseye in the heart.

And damn did it feel like it, too.

#danganronpa v3 #ndrv3 #new danganronpa v3

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prettyfunkyunorganized · 6 years

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Sugar Daddy Hanzo part 10

Good evening everyone! Or whatever time of day it is where you are. I’ve got another chapter for you today, but first a few announcement-y things:

1. Just moved and started grad school so I’m busy AF, so if chapters continue to be a bit shorter than they were at the beginning, that’s why.

2. I am starting up a new tag on my blog that will be side info about this story - stuff written from Hanzo’s POV, fun facts, ideas I’m considering, and questions for you! You can always submit questions too via the ask feature on Tumblr or you can use the tag #sugardaddyhanzoextras (sugar daddy hanzo extras). That is the tag I will be using for all this type of content and if you would like to be tagged, feel free to let me know!

3. I love you.

So yeah, that’s it! Here are 2,800ish words of mush essentially.

BTW, this whole business world AU is based on my bud @watch-your-grammer‘s post here. She’s glorious and so is her work.

The rest of the story: pt one, pt two, pt three, pt four, pt five, pt six, pt seven, part eight, part nine

Waking up had never been so difficult. Your eyelids dragged, almost impossibly heavy, but not nearly as stiff as your arms. Every shallow, tentative breath was a struggle, and your chest ached with each inhale. Each exhale. You looked around the brightly lit room and frowned. “Guess we’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto,” you grumbled to yourself, “or maybe I’m the witch – certainly feel like I’ve been hit with a house.”

By some odd circumstance, it looked like you had the room to yourself, the bed to your right was folded up tight with precise corners as starkly white as the walls and ceiling above you. Everything was so . . . sterile, as if you had been transported to your very own dimension, removed from the rest of Earth. It was unsettling.

And sad.

Your chest tightened in a familiar way that had nothing to do with your injury, it was a painful manifestation of your growing disappointment and loneliness.

“You’d think the gals would at least come by to see me,” you whispered as tears welled in your eyes, “and if getting shot isn’t enough to get Mom and Dad to come visit me, what is?”

In a burst of realization, you remembered what had happened and put a hand over your breast, a powerful tenderness warning you to be gentle.

“Holy fuck I got shot,” you gulped looking for the nurse call button and slamming it while trying to tame your breathing.

After a brief pause that seemed to last ages, a nurse swung open your door and scuttled in, but not before you saw what looked like a dark suit a dark expressing in the hallway.

“Well, hello there,” the tall man in scrubs said with a smile. The bright corgi pattern on his shirt relaxed you for some reason, maybe it was because that was the first bit of color you had seen since you awoke.

“Hi,” you said softly.

“You look scared,” he murmured kindly, “don’t be. We got you all patched up, and you’re going to be fine.”

“Oh thank goodness,” you sighed, running your hands over your face. Of course you knew that you were alive, but hearing a nurse say ‘you’re not dying’ still made you feel a thousand times better.

“Do you remember what happened,” he asked. You nodded. “Good. And how are you feeling?”

“Uh,” you hesitated, “pretty shitty? But not dead so, I could be worse?”

He chuckled, “Very true. Feeling sore in your chest, right?”

“Oh yeah,” you groaned.

“We will get you something to help with that and check over your bandages here in a sec, I just want to tell you what we’ve done on our end if you’re feeling up to that.”

“Sure,” you nodded, trying to glance out the window so you could figure out if what you had seen was what you were desperately hoping to see. Then again, it was a hospital, and there were likely hundreds of patients here with worried family.

And Hanzo wasn’t family.

And he hadn’t taken you back.

And the nurse in all his corgi covered glory was in your way.

“Alright,” he said looking at the digital display on his arm, “you were brought in with a bullet wound in the chest, it went right through you, but went through your lung.”

“My lung,” you gaped in horror.

“Yes,” he confirmed, “that is what caused you so much trouble, but medicine has come a long way, and we were able to have your stem cells from your baby teeth flown in and have started growing you some new lung tissue. We had to do one surgery to keep you alive, so your left lung is currently dormant, and your right is doing all the work, which is probably why you’re likely feeling a little like you’ve been running a lot and haven’t quite caught your breath. Once your new tissue is ready, we will get you into the OR again have you feeling right as rain before you know it.”

“Wait,” you said reeling at what he’d just said. You knew your baby teeth could provide stem cells for fancy medical stuff, but patching up your lung? “So . . . you’re going to be able to just cover up the holes in my lung?”

“Yes, ma’am, just like a punctured tire.”

“Ew,” you grimaced at his analogy.

He laughed, “Yeah, sorry. The other nurses say I’ve got a way with words, but I’m not sure if they mean that as a compliment.”

“I mean, it helped me understand,” you shrugged, “but is my lung still going to be able to function normally with a patch? Am I not going to live as long or something because of this?”

“Actually, the procedure has been tested very thoroughly on patients with lung cancer, and there is very little if any loss of functionality. Patients with renewed lungs climb Everest, run marathons, and live long healthy lives – so long as they take care of themselves, that is. If you eat fast food every day or do drugs and die young, you can’t blame that on the new tissue.”

“Of course,” you nodded. “That’s pretty god-damned amazing.”

“It sure is,” he beamed, “the biggest inconvenience is the post-op checkups and drugs to help encourage faster healing, but all that will be finished up in a few months.”

“Good to know,” you sighed, a thin smile forming on your lips.

“Anything else you need right now, or should I start taking a look at you?”

“I – well, actually,” you fumbled, try to lean over and see the window, but you cringed at the pain, “could you just tell me if I have anyone out there waiting to see me? I – I thought I recognized someone.”

“You sure do,” the nurse said with a playful shake of his head, “you’ve had lots of people come in and out to see you, but it’s late at night right now, so the only one here at the moment is the older gentleman in the suit who basically never leaves. Man’s practically a part of the furniture now.”

You grinned so wide your chapped lips hurt, but you couldn’t stop. “Is his name Hanzo? Is he still out there? Will you tell him not to leave yet?”

“Calm down, calm down,” he laughed, backing toward the door, “I’m sure he’s still here, and I’d be happy to tell him you want to speak with him.”

“Thanks,” you said, blushing at your girlish excited outburst.

Without entirely closing the door behind him, the nurse spoke quietly with Hanzo, who had been waiting with an impatient look on his face. The instant you saw him you were relieved. In all honesty, you would have been happy to see anyone you knew out there, but knowing it was him was almost too good to be true.

The nurse came back in and asked you a few more questions while surveying your condition and giving you a bit of pain medication, but ‘not enough to make you all loopy,’ as per your request. Pain meds had always given you the creeps. It was awkward to have a man you’d never met poking your bandaged up boob while the other one laid out in all its glory, but thankfully as soon as you wrapped your hospital gown back up, Hanzo was waved in.

“Hey,” you said as he closed the door behind him. You did your best not to look like a giddy schoolchild, but you were far too happy to be in the same room as him again. Part of your uncontrolled emotion was definitely the drugs, but not all of it. You didn’t care if you shouldn’t be so enraptured to see him, at least not now. You had been shot, you could feel however the fuck you wanted.

“Good evening,” he responded lowly. The distant tone in his voice made you face fall flat, and the physical distance he kept between you made you pull your knees closer to your chest sadly.

“I was, um, well I was kind of surprised to see you here,” you admitted sheepishly.

Hanzo sighed and looked away. “Yes, I probably should not have come, but I felt I had to. That, and I could not find the will or focus to do anything other than sit here and wait for news on your condition.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” you said softly, “extremely so.”

His lips pursed as his gaze landed on something next to your head. “You are the only one who has been happy to see me here.”

You twisted around as far as you could until your chest muscles griped at you to stop. There was a tiny speaker clipped to the bed frame with a note attached to it. “That sweetie,” you chuckled as you read Lucio’s message:

‘Sorry I couldn’t stick around ‘til you woke up! If I missed another tour date, the bosses were going to have some fried frog legs at their next meeting. Call me THE SECOND you wake up and know that I’m thinking of you. Lots of hugs, your best-est client.’

“He’s always so good to me,” you said shaking your head and the sad frog sketch Lucio had done on the other side of the card.

“I am glad you have found someone that has made you happy,” Hanzo said almost inaudibly, his eyes turned to the ground, bangs in his face as if trying to hide the sour look on his features.

Was he . . . jealous? Clearly you were feeling a little better because the devious part of your mind was suddenly much more awake. No, you shouldn’t be happy that Hanzo was feeling all put out at the fact that you had someone new if your life, but shit! How many people got to see the illustrious Hanzo Shimada practically dripping in envy?

Plus, it meant that maybe – just maybe – you had a chance to have him back.

Maybe it took almost dying to realize that you were willing to give Hanzo another chance, or maybe that bullet had torn right through your resolve, but you knew what you wanted now, and you were ready to admit it. More than that, you were ready to fight for it.

If Hanzo really wanted you to find love with someone else, fine, you understood, but you weren’t going to just walk away. Not again.

“Perhaps I should go,” Hanzo said abruptly, “the nurse assured me that you will be fine and now that I have seen you for myself I believe I am feeling much more assured. Goodbye, and I hope you – ”

“Woah, woah, woah,” you shouted, sitting up and groaning at the way your body protested. You were shot in the chest, so why did your back feel like agony, too?

Hanzo turned back you, looking very unsure of himself. “What is it?”

“You know Lucio is just a friend, right,” you asked.

He scoffed and glowered at the door. “That is not what the tabloids say.”

“Since when do you put stock in the tabloids,” you said giving him a skeptical look.

“There are photos,” he said grimly, crossing his arms and keeping his gaze off you.

“Of what? Me and my friend walking into a party together? We may have been ‘arm in arm’ and all that, but people do that all the time. He’s just a public figure, so everything gets blown out of proportion,” you said matter-of-factly.

“The pictures of him covered in your blood and sobbing as they brought you to the hospital are quite . . . telling,” he insisted.

“Hanzo! I had just been shot! And he’s one of my friends! One of my best friends, in fact. If Gabe were to be gunned down in front of you wouldn’t you be looking a little disheveled?”

His head bobbed as an admittance that you had a point.

“Come here,” you demanded, holding a hand out to him. His body went rigid, and he didn’t move. “Please,” you pouted, beckoning him again.

This time he slowly made his way to you, stopping far enough away that you had to lunge forward a bit to grab his hand and yank him closer. His eyes were wide with surprise, or maybe concern, but fingers curled automatically around yours. You brought his knuckles to your lips and place a gentle kiss on them, the tension in Hanzo’s shoulders floating away, letting his perfect posture slip into a more relaxed stance. You were glad you still had that effect on him. Big oaf needed to pull that stick out of his ass every now and again.

“Lucio means a lot to me, but not the way you do,” you told him in the most earnest tone you could muster. “You’re the only person I want to be with, you’re the one that I wanted with me more than anyone else when I thought I was dying, and you’re the person I most wanted to see when I opened up my eyes in this place.”

“You know,” Hanzo said with a small smile, “you make it very hard to stay away from you.”

He leaned against the rail of your bed and set his palm on your cheek gingerly, you leaned into its warmth. “I guess getting shot has its silver lining.”

“I vehemently disagree,” he barked firmly, “it should not have taken a gunshot to bring us back together. A conversation would have done just as well.”

“Hey, for the record, I tried that,” you retaliated. “That night in your brother’s big fancy bathroom I wanted to talk about it but you – ”

Hanzo silenced you by placing his thumb over your lips, and you giggled, kissing the pad of his finger in delight. Having him this close again was everything you had hoped it would be. “I am sorry for that night,” he said tenderly, “I was only trying to – ”

“Trying to do the right thing,” you finished for him, nodding understandingly. “I know, and I was, too. But I don’t care about what’s ‘right’ anymore. I don’t want to give up on what we could have together, and I know you’re on the way to changing. I’m tired of chasing the ideal of what should happen. I just want to be happy, and you make me happy.”

“My beauty,” he cooed, placing a long kiss on each of your temples, “you make me happy, too.”

“Does that mean you’ll be with me again,” you asked, wriggling closer to him.

“How could I say no,” he chuckled, dancing his fingers along your exposed arm until you shivered, making him grin.

The two of you basked in each other’s presence, but no matter how hard you tried to keep from overthinking things, you had to ask him something.

“Hanzo?”

“Yes?”

“Will I be your sugar baby again or . . . ?”

“I – well – ” he stammered, clearing his throat to buy him time to find an answer.

“The full-fledged relationship idea still freaks you out, doesn’t it,” you asked worriedly.

“Yes,” he huffed frustratedly, “though I do not know why. I know I want to be with you, and I know that I want more than that sort of arrangement with you, but there is something about that word, that step that just . . . fills me with a dread I do not understand.” Hanzo looked down to you, an ashamed expression on. “I am sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you said stroking his jawbone, “I don’t mind being your sugar baby again, but I’d like to set down a new set of rules and whatnot.”

“Of course,” he said, sounding relieved, “I believe that would be necessary.”

“But you are still going to your therapist, right?”

“Yes,” he said with a strong nod, “and this is something we have discussed lightly, but, as you know, there is much about me that needs to be . . . dealt with.”

“We’re all a work in progress,” you assured Hanzo, pulling him down so you could kiss him on the nose. The token of affection made his face go a little red, and you burst out laughing. “Good god I missed you and the way you blush, handsome.”

“I am quite convinced that you are the only one who can make me blush,” he grumbled, smirking just a tinge.

“Oh I bet Genji could tell me some fun stories that would make you all flustered,” you teased.

“Just who’s side are you on,” he said with a scowl.

“Mine,” you said brightly, “a girl’s got to put herself first, you know, and that’s what I do.”

“And I adore you for it,” Hanzo hummed, meshing his fingers into yours.

“Don’t worry,” you said, giving him a gentle squeeze, “I’ll always be in your corner, though.”

“A fact that makes me infinitely stronger.”

“I’m glad you realize that,” you said, beaming at his progress, “a couple of months ago I pegged you for the ‘I don’t need anyone’ type.”

“I have since learned a few things, met a few people who have shown me otherwise,” Hanzo said, holding your clasped hands to his heart.

@collinssie @watch-your-grammer @zarcake-writes @yesthisisbae @eebbapanda1@deercapitate @missbumblina @skyrina @justjaaaay@thewetbones@skyelentnight @ilovebva @punk-dork @cbrokeherboobs@sobanoodledragon@sydniesamm @honeyburger @knightofsexyness @queenoflabyrinths@speakingishard @iknowimcutethanks @ninevast @ivymarquis @sydniesamm@barbie-the-centrist @tumblertrash @angle0fthegourd@shaybae1997 @lillypet95 @rusty-potato @tt-nikithakppr

** please let me know if you would like to be tagged or removed from the tags in future updates and sorry if I missed anyone, I feel like tumblr is deleting my shit**

#Overwatch #hanzo #hanzo x reader #sugar daddy hanzo #reader insert #mine #my drabble #overwatch drabble

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rikudera · 6 years

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#writing #fem!riku #discussion #eggwyrt

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playeroneplayertwo · 5 years

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Editorial: ‘Til the Money Runs Out

(Unless otherwise clarified, all prices are MSRP, or manufacture standard retail price)

The subjectivity evident in any critical analysis of a book, movie, or board game is–I would hope–obvious. Value, however, feels far less subjective.

How much someone is willing to pay for something varies greatly depending on the person, not only based on what we’re talking about, but also how much money that person has. With that out of the way, let’s talk about a sticky wicket in the hobby of board gaming: value.

It wasn’t long ago that this idea felt less nebulous, with value often coming down to the argument of collectable games vs non-collectable games. Things are a little different now. Collectable card games (CCGs), expandable games/living card games (LCGs), legacy games, campaign games, mystery games, and consumable games have gone a long way in complicating a once-simple(ish?) idea. These days, everyone has an idea of what’s a good value, and what’s not. Lots of people have axes to grind against games deemed “of poor value.” I’ll try not to fall into such a black and white box.

When I originally thought about writing about value, my main angle was simple: Magic (1993) vs an LCG, like Android: Netrunner (2012) or Lord of the Rings: The Card Game (2011). As a former fan of Magic transformed into an avid LCG fan, I bristled at the less than rosy coverage most LCGs received from the gaming community, in regards to value specifically. I knew firsthand how expensive a collectable game like Magic could cost. With a 15-card Magic booster pack costing $3.99, and a booster box of 36 booster packs coming in usually around $100, it gets expensive quickly. Individual cards can be bought online for anywhere from 10¢ to $50+, this is a deep hole that is hungry and ready to eat you alive.

For anyone who has not played a collectable game, it is set apart from LCGs by randomness. A collectable game is purchased in packs of randomized cards, so oftentimes you will purchase a pack and get nothing you want or need. This happens far more than you would believe. LCGs/expandable card games are unique because they are available in fixed, non-randomized sets, whether that be small expansion packs of larger deluxe expansions. The rub is that these will cost more. For example, the typical small expansion pack for an LCG is typically $14.99, but you know exactly what you receive in that expansion, and additionally you’ll receive multiple copies of each card–something that never happens in collectable packs.

This distinction alone is worth a deeper dive, but we’ll only gloss over it briefly. Head to head LCGs or expandable games (like the now OP Android: Netrunner, Legend of the Five Rings (2017), Doomtown: Reloaded (2014), or Game of Thrones: The Card Game (2015)) offer a large pool of cards with a fixed distribution. You would conceivably be able to buy the core set for one of these ($40), plus perhaps four small expansions ($60 total), which puts you in at $100. For $100, you could buy a booster box of Magic cards and maybe build two strong decks, if you’re looking to have a satisfying experience. The randomness will throw a wrench in here, because you could theoretically get enough good cards for more than two solid decks; you could also get mostly junk.

Reviewers often balk at the LCG model, because while it appears to solve the money-pit aspect of CCGs, they are still not cheap. That being said, for people who are merely interested in the game–but not deck construction, LCG core sets offer plenty of introductory level gaming to help you discern whether you actually like a game or not. If you do, and you know what you like about the game (eg factions or mechanics), the set expansion packs allow you to build up where you want. Why buy an expansion pack for a faction you don’t like or don’t play? You don’t have to!

The cooperative LCGs are a different story. They, too, have the $15 expansion packs, but in addition to cards you’ll add to your pool for deck construction, you’ll also get quests to play against, essentially a typical “expansion” that brings in additional content beyond merely deck construction.

Whether it be cooperative or head-to-head, LCGs are expensive, but unlike CCGs, LCGs have simultaneously removed both the excitement of the blind buy as well as the frustration of the bad buy. Granted, in the small box expansions, you’ll still be getting cards you don’t need or don’t want, but at the very least, you will be getting at least a few cards you know you want (if not, uh... why did you buy it? Do your homework!).

As a player of both Lord of the Rings: The Card Game and Arkham Horror: The Card Game (2016), I would argue that the best value for me in LCGs probably lies in the cooperative line. By giving players both quests to pursue as well as player cards tailored to those specific quests, these small packs never feel incomplete. And, I would argue, getting a core box of Arkham Horror or Lord of the Rings is a great value as an introduction to satisfying, well-supported systems.

Beyond card games, the water actually gets far muddier when you expand what you’re talking about. Legacy games and escape room games (which is a term I’ll use to encompass both consumable games and “mystery” games that, once solved, can’t really be replayed satisfactorily) have managed to blur the lines in terms of value considerably. Let’s start with legacy games.

A legacy game is a game that evolves the more you play it, and with the exception of Charterstone (2017), most legacy games cannot be played beyond the completion of their main narrative arch. For example, Pandemic Legacy (season one or two) leads the players through a series of games that add up to a long-form narrative. As the games unfold, the rules of Pandemic will change, as will the cards, board, and other components, making the last game wholly unique from the first. However, once completed, you can’t play it again. You may as well recycle your game. Charterstone, Stonemaier Games’ take on the legacy game, at least leaves you with what amounts to a custom-designed worker placement game that is replayable. Legacy games can be played anywhere from 10-20 times before you complete the story. That being said, because they have so many components, they are usually quite expensive: Pandemic Legacy (2015/2017), $70; Charterstone (2017), $70; Betrayal Legacy (2018), $75; Rise of Queensdale (2018), $80; and the peril-plagued SeaFall (2016), $80.

After looking at these numbers, take a minute and compare them to the LCG/CCG numbers above. Yes, they are cheaper, but they also have a limited lifespan. Is a legacy game worth $70-$80 if you can only play it 12 times? That’s about $7 per play, cheaper than (or at least comparable to) a movie ticket for a good night spent gaming. Seems like a decent deal, right?

What about consumable or “mystery” games? In this case, I’m looking at you Exit (2016), Unlock (2017), and T.I.M.E. Stories (2015). Other games will fall into this category too (further escape room games or a host of Sherlock Holmes or similar mystery-type games, like Consulting Detective (1981) or Chronicles of Crime (2018)), but these three games are hyper present in the hobby today. Both Exit and Unlock retail for $15, but they will each offer a one-time experience only. Unlock games are mystery-based, so once you’ve worked your way through, they essentially can’t be replayed because the answers will all be known. As for Exit, this is probably one of the more controversial because it is literally consumable. At the end of a game of Exit, that $15 game you bought is now destroyed. Cards are cut, the book is written on or torn up, maybe event the box is destroyed. Unlike Unlock, you can’t even trade it to someone who has not yet played it. Each set of Unlock and Exit is unique, offering lots of new games, but it’s a flat $15 each time you play. Still cheaper than a night at the movies.

Which brings us to T.I.M.E. Stories (2015). T.I.M.E Stories is essentially a board game version of Unlock: card-based and entrenched in a branching narrative with puzzles. You’ll play one set of T.I.M.E. Stories maybe three times, at most, before it’s completed and cannot be replayed. The core box ($50) sets you up with the components and one mystery. Additional mysteries are available in modular expansions for $25 each. At its heart, T.I.M.E. Stories is most analogous to a BluRay player, with each expansion being a new BluRay you pop in to watch. In the long run, it’s also the most expensive of the bunch.

So what’s the point of all this? Board games are expensive, but you know that. Your average big box board game (ie not a traditionally labeled “filler game”) runs anywhere from $30-$60 MSRP.

Ah, but who pays MSRP these days? you’ve been muttering this whole time.

Who’s paying MSRP? Well, if you’re looking to support your brick and mortar local game stores, you should be. Yes, this is a tough case to make, because money is money. It’s hard to rationalize spending $90 on Scythe (2016) to support your local store when you can buy it online for $52. I can try to make my best possible case for spending that extra $40, but like I said, it’s a tough sell. $40 is a whole other game. I’d like to say I only shop local, but it’s simply not true. This hobby is expensive, and while I buy local when I can, more often than not I buy online from brick and mortar places like Cool Stuff Inc or Miniature Market. It’s worth making a case for buying local, though. Do you like having a local store? If you want to keep having a local store, shop there. Support them. Give them your money when you can. It’s hard out there for brick and mortar stores. And please, don’t expect a brick and mortar store to sell at online prices. I don’t want to have to explain profit margins; in almost all cases it’s just not feasible.

In the long run, what does this all mean? I could throw my opinions at you endlessly about how I think T.I.M.E. Stories is, for Player Two and I, not worth it, or about how Exit is worth it, or legacy games don’t work for us, but that’s not what I’m here for ultimately. I guess I’d like people to ease up on LCGs, and maybe think twice about those hot hot big box legacy games, or remember to pass on their Unlock games to friends or families to get extra miles out of those small boxes. The breadth of the hobby is wide, and it is getting wider every year. Ultimately, you need to decide what you’re willing to invest, and in this case I don’t just mean you money, but also your time. Which of these games will you get your time value out of? If you buy a legacy game with shoddy mechanics, it will fail you on value across the board, because you won’t even finish it. LCGs or CCGs will offer you–theoretically–endless play, but if you don’t like the game enough, or it’s not nuanced enough to sustain those theoretical infinite plays, what’s the point?

The best advice I can give new gamers is to start small. Do your homework on small box games first. There’s a reason that in our first episode recommended gateway game was Oh My Goods! (2015). It’s a quality game that teaches new players a lot about engine building euros, it’s got decent replayability, it’s got two expansions, and it’s only $15. If you are new to the hobby, figure out what you like. Don’t run out and buy Lords of Hellas (2018), Batman: Gotham City Chronicles (2019), or Gloomhaven (2017) on a lark, because you’ll be unloading tons of money on something you may loath.

There’s nothing wrong with starting small. Trust me, in the long run, it will save you a lot of time and money.

#board games #value #editorial #my two cents

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rubiaryutheroyal · 7 years

Text

MGSV Story Study Sequel

@aireyverkhovensky submitted:

hey rubia are you feeling ambitious

(i’m kidding, i just want to know about the little comics and charts included, not the huge walls of text!)

Thank goodness. I sure wouldn’t want to have to explain the entirety of MGSV’s story here in one post. It’s an in-depth analysis of the story, characters, plot, etc., compiled into 73 pages, counting table of contents and preface.

As it goes without saying, spoilers abound. Also, a few mentions & pictures w/ adult themes, but nothing explicit.

Sorry that it took so long. I couldn’t find the time to finish up until now.

P1: Cover

P2: Intro & argument for why BB didn’t betray Kaz or Venom

P3: Table of Contents

“The (Grossly Oversimplified) Character Relationships Chart 1”

Top box: main characters of this game

They all love BB and want to help him.

But M. Zero calls BB “his possession”, and BB: ((((;゜д゜)))) -> ( `;ω;´ )

So they all want Zero dead. (bottom right: only Venom is playable, so he doesn’t know that Zero is directly involved in the story)

And Zero wants them all dead. (bottom left: while another Snake is being made, Miller’s plan is to “get” Jack as he’s killing ’em)

left note: Code Talker is Zero’s henchie, and so was Huey until he got jossed.

P5 - 6: MC introductions

“The (Still Somewhat Complicated) Character Relationships Chart 2”

top: TPP is about Venom tracing back to BB’s last mission. MGS3 ended with killing The Boss. Venom’s version of The Boss is Kaz.

Zero: “Crush them all”

BB, Ocelot –blue–> Kaz: has to keep this guy alive (hence why his limbs are cut & eye scarred, as per Zero’s objective…)

Venom –red–> Kaz: “Kill” // Zero’s final objective succeeds //

Skull –green–> Venom: Since Venom catches onto him, Skull has no choice but to kill him (he’s sad, since they’re supposed to be allies) -> Expecting Venom knew about the source of the vocal parasites, he had to kill him anyway… Once he learned the truth, all was good.

BB –gold–> clash: “Stop that”

BB – Venom: precious friend, lover

BB – Skull: from bottom of heart, want to be bros

BB, Ocelot –gold–> Skull: keeps him alive, get Zero’s whereabouts from him “I’ll leave it to you.” “John’s counting on me, I’ll do my best!!”

BB –green–> Kaz: doesn’t want to worry about the truth

BB –red–> Zero: trying to find where Zero is to kill him

bottom: “But Ocelot doesn’t do anything this time?” you’d think, but he may actually be moving behind the scenes.

P8 - 10: Facts & FAQs about Skullface

P11: Eli

P12: Sahelanthropus

P13: What Eli has to do with it

P14: The whole lotta digs on Kaz (following pages are numbered by these questions)

P15 - 20: 1. Venom

P16 - 20: Ties b/w Chico’s reports in GZ & TPP’s untold scenarios

P17, right: shojo manga depiction of angst comfort

P20 (on character relationships by distance):

Kaz: Hey! This isn’t some kind of ero corner! Why are we heading for this kind of horror? And the background’s all pink!

Venom: It’s fanservice.

P21: 2. Soldiers (minor chars)

(right) Boy who ends up getting gang-raped

(left) Woman who completely crushes all TNK attempts at rape

P22 - 24: 3. Boss

P22, top:

(right) Quiet: Snake ♥

BB: …

Ocelot: ?

Quiet: Not you!

(left) Kaz: Boss ♥

BB: !

Ocelot: …

P23: Paz’s reports on Kazuhira Miller - “His adoration of Big Boss is obvious”

top panel: cigar (right) [true adoration] lights his cigar for him (left) [adoration…] ignores his attempts at lighting it

mid panel: way of calling (right) [true adoration] “Boss (respectful)”, “I’ll be there for you!” (left) [adoration…?] “Boss (resentful)”, “Zadornov disappeared again. Go find him.” “And get me a hooker while you’re on it.”

bottom panel: how they’d show off their bods (imagined) (right) [true adoration] “…Alright… If you wish, I’ll happily show it to you!” ”May I rest in your room tonight…?” (left) [anything but adoration] “Aw, Boss! You’ve been waiting on me? Well, I guess we can’t help it!” *strips*

A/N at bottom right: ^ What Paz imagined was probably like this

Paz: It was a report from the beginning of Peace Walker…

P24, center: Three-way deadlock

[T/N: For the top & bottom, I’m not exactly sure what scenes the author is talking about. What’s “MSF”? And some episode where Kaz & Ocelot are arguing…?]

Kaz: strong to BB, weak to Ocelot

Ocelot: strong to Kaz, weak to BB

BB: strong to Ocelot, weak to Kaz

BB -> Kaz: says whatever

Kaz -> Ocelot: ‘fesses up

Ocelot -> BB: loyalty & adoration, “John’s the best”

P25: 4. Liquid

Meryl: Hey! Stop messing around! Ahaheehee! What, you call this torture!? This is just sexual harassment! *blah, blah, blah*

Ocelot, Liquid: (Shut up already…)

A/N, bottom: Captive female soldier, “Quiet”-type

P26: 5. Zero (imagined)

[Setting: Kazuhira Miller, age 12]

Zero: You may not know this, but it’s a Japanese school uniform.

Paz: (What the heck is this play…?)

[T/N: Namely, it’s a uniform for boys. The author goes on to explain the episode about Paz and Zero’s wiretap.]

P27 - 32: More FAQs about Zero

P27

Zero: Look, Jack~ It’s (my and) your kids!

BB: Waaaaaahh!!

A/N: So he filled up his entire bedroom with flowers to cleanse himself of the dream.

P29-30: Seeing BB x Kaz from BB’s & Zero’s relations

[T/N: I guess this is a scene that happens in-game, where BB tries to snap his neck, but decides against it?]

P33 - 34: comics

P33: “I thought a ‘sauna’ was like this”

Swan: Oh, while we’re using the soap, let’s add the vihta too. Okay, Armadillo, if you please.

*Now you can slap the subcommander on the ass*

Kaz: Whoa, wait a sec. It’ll make me seem like I’m in a S&M relationship…

Swan: Huh? Did I get it wrong?

Gazelle: But wouldn’t it be great to **** the boss?

Elephant: Right to the sexual harassment!

Puma: The boss is **** so wouldn’t **** **ing her be ********?

Dolphin, Cotton Mouse: *w*

Puma: Besides, ****… and then ** and *****…

Kaz: Stooop! This game is rated CERO C!

Armadillo: (Women are so rough…)

[Ending]

???: Clean the sauna for a year.

Kaz: Yes, sir…

Elephant, Puma: (He’s done for.)

Gazelle: (I guess he won’t.)

Swan: (Thank God I don’t have to clean the sauna! Lucky break!)

[Thinking about it, women on the battlefield wouldn’t be so weak.]

P34

Venom: When will I get to see Kaz’s smile…?

Kaz: *mmph*

Quiet: *push push*

Venom: What, Quiet? Huh? Those are…

Kaz: Ahahahaahahahahaaahaha!!!

[Electric tickling rods] * used by Ocelot

Kaz: *huff huff*

Venom: I didn’t mean by force… And he’s not used to it, so using those shock rods can be dangerous.

Quiet: Okay.

Kaz: Ahahahaahahahahaaahaha!!!

[Analog tickling rods] * used by Ocel…

Kaz: Damn it! Stop tickling my nipples!

Venom: Hehe. (Quiet’s making a calm face, but maybe she’s got a grudge…?)

[Boss smiled. Mission complete.]

Kaz: Hey, wait. Why are you ending this like it’s a happy ending? Hey!

P35-36: Quiet

P36: On Kaz & Catherine

(lower right)

Kaz: “That’s no way to treat your mother!”

??: “Ah, it’s fine.”

Kaz: “Dear!”

[Parents]

[T/N: below is a quick chart of their relations]

P37-46: More about Eli

P43

[End of chapter 1] * screenshot trace

Kaz: (I have the feeling it’s not over yet…)

P44

[Zero.]

Zero: (I’m watching you…)

P47-50: Review/Summary

“MGSV’s story is full of misleads and false info to trick the players, and this is the real S3 Plan (MGS2).”

[T/N: Welp, I wouldn’t have been tricked because I’ve been lost since the first page. :D ]

P49: “VR Boyfriend”

Genre: virtual reality boyfriend simulation Developer: Illusion

A/N: So MGSV:TPP has been from Zero’s point of view.

(just below) “Become Venom Snake and get real close with Miller!”

*insert facts about Kaz*

Zero: We can have a spiritual conversation!

Skull: Leave it to the Major to keep up with the latest tech. (This eroge nerd is hopeless. Use it properly already…)

VR Snake: >_<;

P51-64: references & homages made in-game

[T/N: There is way too much to cover here, so I think I’ll just skip over all the text and some comics. I’ll list the names of the sources, though.]

P53: Berserk

P54: Silent Hill 2, Blade of the Immortal

P55-56: Siren

P56

Kaz: Boss, Ocelot shot me in the face.

Ocelot: Don’t give them the wrong idea!

P57-64: Yakuza

P59: [T/N: Apparently in the JP version, when Venom puts on the Golden Armor, he starts talking in Kansai dialect.]

P60: [T/N: I feel like I’m missing a lot here, since I don’t know much about the Yakuza series, but it’s basically the characters from each swapped into the other game.]

P65: “No Way He Wouldn’t Finish Manga With That Moe Poster in DD’s Lounge”

Kaz: Hm? What, you like manga, Ocelot?

(books) “Weekly Shonen: Champion” “Japanese for Beginners”

Ocelot: I’m only reading them to better understand other countries’ culture. But, these ‘mangakas’ come up with some interesting ways to capture other people’s attention. (Hmph. This is for kids.)

By the way, did you find the next issue?

Kaz: Oh, the series I was reading ended, so I didn’t buy it.

Ocelot: What!? Don’t screw with me! Go get it already! NOW!! GET GOING!!!

Kaz: So you are addicted.

[20 years later, roleplaying]

Ocelot: L-Liquid! I beg of you!! My hand! My haaand… My right hand Liquid has been captured–! I wasn’t betraying the Patriots! It was Liquid’s fault!

Zero: What!?

Snake: Liquid!?

AI: Liquid!?

Wolf(?): What.

P66-70: More on Liquid & Ocelot, spanning MGS1, 2, 4

P71: Character relations across the games

P72: MGR: SOLIS & Kaz?

P73: Conclusion (feat. pun with Peacewalker, how Kaz ties into everything, and extras with Hideo Kojima)

And with that, I am officially done with this post. Not done like “I’ve covered everything I could”, but done like “My brain needs rest”. Thanks for your submission…

#i translate #metal gear solid #aireyverkhovensky #submission

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zmediaoutlet · 7 years

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Thank you for the reply to that post and sorry if I made you feel like an asshole, that wasn't the aim at all! I'm glad we're good. As for hurt/comfort and catharsis... I mean, yes, I think that's exactly the function it serves. One of the things that I find super interesting about fan fic as a literary mode is the sort of unashamed emotional functionality of it? Things like the ability to search AO3 by tags, or blogs like SPN Storyfinders where you ask for a certain thing and people make (1/2)

suggestions, both of which permit you to narrow down to just exactly the right sort of fic that you’re looking for. That’s not to say that lots of fic isn’t acting in the same way as other literary modes or genres, like e.g. people might read and write horror fic for exactly the same reasons and in the same way that they’d interact with horror in the form of novels or TV, but there are also definitely areas of difference. (2/3)

For instance the porn content of fan fic is obviously higher than mainstream literature and I think there’s a really clear analogy between PWP and hurt/comfort in that they’re both about satisfying sort of iddy emotional-physical needs. (3/3 and sorry for the multi-asks, blame Tumblr!!)

The function of fanfiction is really interesting, you’re right. I think there’s probably a few schools of thought there, but if I had to run it down in a list-like format, I’d say that there’s a few different modes of creation happening:

1) Emotional/Id-fic, as you say–fic that’s looking to explore a very specific kind of emotion, for cathartic purposes both on the writer and readers’ parts.

2) Writing to write–and by that I mean, to explore character/tell a story as a thing in itself, absent the need for catharsis.

(There are probably lots more, but if we keep to very broad categories, that’s what occurs to me.)

On the first category, I think you’re absolutely right that PWP/porn and h/c and heavy angst and candyfloss-fluff all perform roughly the same function–they’re pinging some deep emotional/physical need. H/C is emotion-porn, as much as PWP is properly porn, or a long angst-fic is sadness porn. Now, personally, I think there’s nothing wrong with porn. Generally, porn is defined as something that lacks substance–but hell, who needs substance all the time. Not every meal can be whole-wheat bread and brussels sprouts; sometimes you need a taco and a chocolate bar. Sometimes you might just need a fic where Sam plays with puppies. Fair enough.

On the second category, I guess I’d call that a more–literary approach, for lack of a better term. As an example I’d use a fic by one of our classic authors in fandom: astolat’s SPN/HP crossover, Old Country. Just looking at the text, not knowing her mind while writing it, I’d call this a more ‘literary’ approach because it seems that the fic’s primary function is to explore an idea: what would it be, if Sam and Dean went to Hogwarts? Certainly there are what could be considered ‘cathartic’ moments in the vein of the first category–there is sex, and there’s a bit of dark!Sam, and Dean is saved from Hell. All things that take place in catharsis!fic, and yet it doesn’t feel like one of those.

The difference, I think, between the two types is how the writer (and reader) emotionally engage with the text. In type the first, the emotional goal is the main one. To get the reader (or writer) off, whether that be physically via a wank or emotionally via a cry or a squee or whatever. In the second, the more literary mode of writing is the goal–which, I’d say, is convincing the reader of the argument the text proposes, whether that’s a romance or a horror story or an adventure, or whatever.

This is really the place where fic diverges from traditional writing, I think. Fic tends to assume that the reader is already convinced. The tag says Wincest Hurt/Comfort, and so the reader enters with that mindset and doesn’t care about the realism of two brothers hooking up, or why they would, or why one would let the other baby him, or whatever–all of that is assumed by the tag. A traditionally published piece that featured homosexual incest, in which one brother has had a leg blown off and the other takes care of him (sexily), would have to put in a lot of work to make the reader first buy the conceit, and then build the argument that such a thing could work, and by painstaking logic force the reader to believe that Sam and Dean Winchester were in love. (Unless it were badly written, but that ought to go without saying.)

Personally, as a reader (and writer), most of the time I prefer the type the second. Maybe it’s the academic training that got beaten into my head, maybe it’s because I’m a snob–who knows. I enjoy the more complex, difficult characterizations and plots that tend to come with the ‘literary’ mode, as opposed to the sometimes more facile/simplistic characterizations that tend to come with catharsis!fic. (Note, I’m not saying that it’s simplistic all the time–it’s just a tendency.) I’m also not going to pretend like I only go for lit!fic–after watching Civil War, I definitely went on a round of reading all kinds of Tony-positive!fic, which often turned into Steve-negative!fic, just because I was so annoyed at how the characterization of Cap went. But I also wouldn’t ever say that those fics were good or canon-based, because the characterizations were so simplistic (Tony good! Steve mean!) as to be preposterous. Still–it gave a kind of catharsis.

The ‘problem’ with catharsis!fic, from a lit!fic point of view, is that in pursuing one emotional goal so steadily, all of the nuance tends to drop away. If as a Dean!girl I think that Sam was cruel to go to Stanford, then I might write a fic where Sam is a perfectly horrid shit as a teenager, and Poor Sainted Dean is basically abused and sidelined by him and still cries bitter tears when Sam walks out. If as a Sam!girl I think Dean was too harsh during the demon blood years, then I might write a fic where Dean was nothing but cruel during that whole time, and Poor Sainted Sam really never had a choice but to fall into Ruby’s embracing arms. And hell, I’m free to do either. But both of those ignore the nuance of both situations–it may have been cruel of Sam to leave, but he deserves his own life/Dean was harsh sometimes, but he also flat-out offered to help Sam with it any way he could–and by failing to take the characters’ multidimensionality into account, I’d say that they’re badly characterized, and I’m disappointed after reading them. Yet–someone who specifically craves the catharsis engendered by either of those situations would really enjoy those fics, and recommend them as good.

And so here, as always, we fall into the trap of what analyzing the characters means to the individual. Do we analyze clear-eyed and logically? How can we tell? If Dean is my favorite character, am I capable of seeing his flaws, and not reacting poorly when other characters engage with him in a negative way? Well, who’s to say. And who’s to say that it matters? If you’re engaging with fic in a purely emotional/cathartic way as a Dean!girl, then it may not matter to you that Sam is being demonized because your cathartic needs are being met.

It’s really impossible to see, from the outside (and even from the inside), what the biases are, and whether they’re affecting the analysis/writing. And, therefore, it’s nearly impossible to self-identify: am I writing pure catharsis!fic? Am I writing ‘logical’ fic? Am I engaging with it as canon or as fanon? If we could clear up these sorts of things, we’d probably have a much less fractious time here on tumblr. (And, for me, I’d have a much easier time finding fic to read.)

So… there’s an essay, haha.

#the-megalosaurus #meta #writing #fanfic #fandom

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subjectredacted · 7 years

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1, 8, 20 and 29?

1. if someone wanted to really understand you, what would they read, watch, and listen to?read - One of my all-time favorite reading experiences was Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. The writing style and language was easy for me to consume and I loved the engaging nature of how man comes to question his own morality while also dealing with the fear of responsibility that one isn’t ready for. It’s the birth of science fiction and a great metaphor for how we as people assume we know best.I did also devour Fahrenheit 451 when I had to read it in school, because it felt so close to our reality but with some strong sci-fi elements that were vividly described and easy to visualize. watch - I was gonna try to just pick ONE thing but I’m gonna have to pick a few because they’re different genres - End Of Days - Rated R - Okay so I must confess that while this movie is rated R (because there is sexual content in it as well as other things) that I grew up watching it as a child. I loved seeing Arnold Schwarzenegger in a serious role as a melodramatic cop, like he’d stepped out of a noir film and into a biblical film about the end of the world. Gabriel Byrne plays a mysterious and alluring interpretation of The Devil, and it’s all around very odd business but I love this movie. Lots of spooky demon stuff, possession, body horror, and sexy nightmares.Star Trek (the 2009 film) - Rated PG-13 - I love TOS Kirk but AOS Kirk resonates with me on a deep emotional level. I went through a lot of the same struggles he went through growing up and so I really feel like I understand what he’s been through, and by that notion, seeing him overcome his personal obstacles as well as outside ones gives me hope. It took him a lifetime of self-deprication before he found his purpose and career goals in life, and honestly I hope that I’ll find that for myself someday, even if it takes Way Too Long and I do spend a lot of time hating where I’m at in life in a career sense. Plus, I love sci-fi.Rock Of Ages - Rated R - This kooky musical captures my love of life, the 80s (from a pop culture standpoint, not a socio-political one), and music. Also it has a gay couple in it who even kisses on-screen!!! It deals with sex positivity and the struggles of workers in the sex industry in a way that I feel like is much needed and honestly this gem goes underappreciated. PLUS, TOM CRUISE IN LEATHER PANTS, and if you either looked up the deleted scenes or watch the extended edition, you even get to see him pole-dancing. Overall, this musical deals with great coming of age analogies and how to learn to accept yourself, both your good parts and your faults. This musical is a gift and honestly if you like 80s-themed musicals, please check it out.Evolution - Rated PG - This movie…. This freakin movie…. It has an all-star 90s cast, and while it came out in 2001, it still has that classic 90s movie feeling but with more polish in its special effects due to its time of production and release date. You’ve got Mulder from X-Files dealing with aliens but in the most comedic, although sometimes raunchy way, and this is another movie that I grew up watching religiously when I was a child. This movie was so quotable for me, and I have a long time love affair with “Play That Funky Music” thanks to this movie. The way they end up beating the aliens and saving the human race is a huge spoiler but it’s SO AMAZING AND SILLY. Great punchlines throughout this whole thing. Humor I enjoyed as a child and jokes I appreciate as an adult, something for the whole family to enjoy. listen to - Pre-Fallen album Evanescence has some of my melancholy depression/need an escape from reality songs - “Forgive Me” is a nice peaceful ballad when you’re feeling sad about wronging someone, “Give Unto Me” is when someone else is feeling sad and you wish you could shoulder their burdens, “October” is the feeling when you’ve been working too hard and everything has become hopeless so you’re crying out, “Anywhere” is escapism where you fantasize about running away from your life to start something new with the person you love. For something more upbeat, I’d probably go with the Plans album by Death Cab For Cutie. It’s still relatively relaxing to listen to, but there’s more positivity, with some occasional lows in the album. Ultimately this album just feels like it captures the different states of humanity and relationships very well. Also I Will Follow You Into The Dark is a go-to duet for @spookyeyeimagery and I to sing together.

8. what musical artists have you most felt connected to over your lifetime?Blue October’s entire discography is a tale of how one moves through life with depression and I feel that. This is another one that you could listen to to understand me better, especially since Justin so clearly and vividly depicts the image of what depression feels like for a listener who might not understand what living with it is like. My favorite tracks include “For My Brother^”, “The Feel Again (Stay)”, “Razorblade^” (tw self-harm, rape in this one), “Amazing^” (cw kind of sexual but i usually just imagine general intimacy/cuddling), “Come In Closer^”, “James^”, “Somebody^” (tw abuse), “Drilled A Wire Through My Cheek” (cw sex, but it’s consensual, not rape), and then to round out all the depression with some positivity, “Not Broken Anymore.” Songs marked with ^ have live versions of the songs that I enjoy as well as the studio versions. Poets of the Fall would me my other choice, not because of mental health reasons at all but because the way that Marko writes and performs, and generally the final compositions of the songs just feel very familiar to me, but not in a way like “oh yeah i’ve heard this kind of song before, (insert band here) did something similar.” Poets of the Fall’s music makes me feel like it’s a group of old friends I’ve known for a while, even though I haven’t met a single one of the members of the band. It’s just a level of kindred nature I guess in their music that really resonates with me.

20. would you rather be in middle earth, narnia, hogwarts, or somewhere else?HMMMMMM… This is hard because there’s pro/cons for each one… Honestly I might go with Gotham instead because um, Batman??? But also I think the DC levels of universe weird are the right kind of weird for me.

29. three songs that you connect with right now.Remains - Bastille (vs. Rag'n'Bone Man & Skunk Anansie)Yuri On Ice - Taro UmebayashiSledgehammer - Rihanna

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mikegchambers · 7 years

Text

Baby steps to the cloud: migrating your corporate website

Cloud isn’t just for new projects —migrating an existing application like a website is often the preferred first step

It’s easy to get the impression that the cloud is so alien to on-premise IT that you have to wait until a new project comes along to try it out. Fortunately for patience-impaired like me, we can easily migrate existing workloads across and see immediate benefits.

Getting one migration project off the ground is the key to convincing the Powers That Be that 100% cloud is where the company wants to be in the future. This step is all about building credibility to achieve our ultimate goal of becoming cloud natives.

Quick Recap: Key Benefits of Cloud

While cost savings are usually the hook, that’s not what cloud is really about. At its core, cloud provides three benefits that are either needlessly hard or impossible to do yourself:

Availability: what percentage of time is your application ready for its users? While no system can ever reach 100%, we’re generally trying to do everything we can to be close to perfect. Being unavailable is the tech equivalent of a power outage — the TV is still on the wall but it’s blank.

Durability: how much of the system (code and data) are you expecting to lose? Hard disks will always fail, tornadoes will swallow up buildings and well-meaning people will always do stupid things. Durability is all about surviving the unholy trinity of entropy, disaster and human stupidity. In my TV analogy, the TV has been stolen.

Scalability: what can the system do to cope with increases and decreases in load? When your product gets a deal on Shark Tank, will it cope with a 10,000 times increase in traffic? This is a ‘chicken and egg’ dilemma with your own hardware because you inevitably end up with too few or too many resources. In real life, this is like having more TVs appear when you want to watch multiple channels, but vanishing when no longer needed.

Basically, is it working? Is it there? Do I have enough resources? Fault tolerance and high availability are snooze-inducing buzzwords for the average human, but flip the words around and they just mean your application can tolerate faults and will be available more than you would expect. In practice, pulling off this magic trick is all about finding bottlenecks and points of failure. In essence, you are creating a plan B for everything, always assuming plan A is going up in smoke.

I was going to say how the most unexpected things fail but a picture speaks 1000 words.

But you also need to determine which website is worth the effort. For a corporate webpage that manages employee’s tennis court reservations, who really cares if it only works 95% of the time running on someone desktop PC? Big deal if it breaks (apologies to tennis fans). But if your site is streaming video for the Game of Thrones finale, you damned well better achieve 100% availability (I’m looking at you, HBONow). This is clearly much better candidate for migration.

Example Project: Your Company’s Website

It’s not new, it’s not sexy, but your company’s website is important and it’s one of the few ways your customers get a glimpse into your internal technology horror show. It’s a good place to start for a cloud migration since the transition is well understood and your glorious success will be highly visible.

There are many ways to build a website on-premise but here is one of the most common approach:

A typical website configuration makes cloud people cry.

Bad, bad, bad. This is a sorry design based largely on the ‘hope and pray’ approach that has a unhappy track record for disappointment. If one piece fails, it all fails. Cue screaming customers, mad executives and pagers beeping at 3am.

Anecdotal personal experience, not scientific.

Apart from the declining availability that happens when you multiply lots of 99% probabilities together, it also cannot be upgraded without downtime. This is just about the laziest setup for a website (though surprisingly common) and while might be fine for a hobby blog — would be a train wreck for anything remotely popular. Let’s make it work properly a la cloud.

Pray that nobody kicks the server and the hard disk lasts forever because it scores low on our Big Three.

Version 1: Just add cloud!

In practice there are just as many ways to cloudify a project but here’s my first sketch at using AWS to lift this website into the 21st century. Marvel at my graphic for a few moments and I’ll explain on the other side…

Fun fact: 90% of the world’s cat videos are stored on S3.

This isn’t as complicated as it looks but it was fun to draw. Piece by piece, this is what we have:

VPC: the dotted line is like the electric fence around your cloud playground. “Virtual Private Cloud” is tech talk for your very own piece of cloud real estate.

Route 53 lets us point traffic at the domain name level wherever we want at massive scale. This is a smart managed networking service that we can later use to do all sorts of cleverness (like routing regional users or fighting off denial of service attacks).

CloudFront is a content delivery network (CDN). These are extremely powerful, very cheap and loaded with kick-ass. Usually 90% of website content is static (e.g. images and video) so with a CDN — quick win alert! — you can offload this and release significant server resources. But wait, there’s more! The CDN can distribute to servers geographically closest to your visitor, so it also helps speed up your site for customers far, far away.

S3: Amazon’s mindbogglingly large storage system can securely store files, feed CloudFront, and even hold machine images for servers. In this example, we’ll keep 90% of our data here because it’s super-reliable, highly secure and cheap.

Regions: the diagram shows one region but it can be duplicated exactly to others. If you open an office in Asia, we can just roll out a copy to this region, update Route53 (so local customers hit their local region) and we’ll be done by dinnertime. Need a third region in Europe? Done.

Availability Zones: each region has at least two AZs. Why? Because power fails, networks go down and life happens. We mitigate this by having our infrastructure across two AZs so our customers will never know when an outage occurred.

Elastic Load Balancer (ELB): this takes every incoming request, determines which instances are available to help, and sends it over. If a zone is down, the ELB will be the piece that switches everything across. ELBs are the unsung heroes in orchestrating most of the cloud dance.

Auto-scaling: this is simpler than it sounds. When our instances get too busy (or freeze or die), auto-scaling steps in, powers up some new boxes, installs all the software we need and tells the ELB that it has more places to send work to. It’s the manager that watches the checkout line and says, ‘We need another register open’.

Instances: cloud lingo for ‘servers’. There was just one ‘webserver’ in the first diagram, now we have a fleet of interchangeable machines all doing the same thing. We can add more, take them offline, perform upgrades as needed and generally operate without impacting visitors negatively. We build these instances based off our custom images.

ElastiCache: caches remember the answers to questions and since webservers get asked the same questions frequently (‘hey, what’s the homepage look like?’), they can take the load off the database that would otherwise be doing the work. Caches are much faster than databases and are particularly useful for read-heavy applications like websites.

Database (RDS): scaling databases is hard, replication is scary, and most companies do it badly. RDS is a managed service that does this for you, allowing us to scale quickly with read replicas while also doing its own housekeeping, like backups and maintenance.

This Looks Expensive — and Complicated

I know what you’re thinking. “I just wanted a Honda Civic and you gave me a Tesla delivered by a SpaceX rocket.” I did, but fortunately it’s cheaper and more reliable than the Honda (if that’s even possible, hey Honda fans?).

This is the sort of environment you can build out in a few hours on AWS and might easily have an average running cost of a few hundred dollars a month (depending on your usage). The reason it’s so fast and cheap isn’t because I’m the best cloud guy in the world with extremely reasonable rates and a great can-do attitude, it’s because cloud is code. Let’s repeat that together (the cloud part):

Cloud is code. Infrastructure is code. Build it up. Throw it away.

Nobody is ordering servers, racking hardware or approving purchase orders. We simply build out a CloudFormation template (like a blue print for your house), click “Create” and automation happens. An army of bots builds exactly what we want and we’re done. The hardest part will be migrating files and content, and even that can be fairly simple with a few scripts.

Version 2: Simpler, Faster, Better

Ok, version one solved many of our problems presented in the Dire Stack of On-Premise Failure. It gave us much more availability, durability was effectively solved, and while scalability was impressive, it could still be improved.

Imagine you have a webpage that’s going to get massive amounts of traffic unpredictably across multiple geographic regions. Suddenly you get one million visitors from Australia when a TV ad runs during a national event, and then nothing for 24 hours. And now the traffic hits the West Coast, 10 million visitors during TV ads on cable in the evening, and then it goes quiet. How do you scale up fast enough or make sure the right regions are in place?

In order to accommodate this extreme traffic, I present for your consideration “version 2”:

In the classic website model, you need a web server, database and code to connect it together. In this new version:

Static HTML pages are served on the global CDN (CloudFront). These are just files thrown out to the user’s browser on request.

JavaScript pulls dynamic content through Lambda (via an API). This runs on the client (keeping the hard work on their side).

Lambda connects to ElastiCache, DynamoDB or RDS for the data. This is a massively-scalable tool that runs small chunks of code.

You might remember from last week’s blog post on Mobile Apps that this is a serverless implementation that effectively handles the scaling for you. It’s exceptionally resilient to denial of service attacks and offers blazing performance for a distributed visitor base. It’s also much cheaper to implement than version 1. While it’s not going to work for CMS-based sites that rely on the more traditional stack, it’s an A+ alternative for high traffic landing pages with a spiky demand curve, such as those targeted by TV ads.

What’s the smallest step you can take?

Sometimes the Big Bang migration can be alarming so it’s also worth mentioning a couple of small move alternatives that would greatly improve your overall website infrastructure with just a little cloud.

CDNs can and should be deployed to any and all public-facing websites. CDNs are cheaper than coffee. We’re talking pennies per gigabyte and this single step will have a huge performance improvement for any website. Seriously, it’s a no-brainer.

Lift and shift: if you moved the webserver and database from the first diagram into the cloud, you would expect a slight performance bump (cloud providers’ networks are faster than yours) and it could promote further baby steps to total cloudification. Over time it can morph into the version 1 diagram fairly easily.

Serve a backup site from S3: if your IT people are refusing to budge, one idea is to serve a backup version of the site from S3. This means whenever your site is down, a static version is served in its place. This will only work for certain types of site but it does allow you to handle failure a little more gracefully, and then opens the door to future cloud migration.

Store your code in cloud repositories. It’s a sensible safeguard but this practice also gets your development and IT groups familiar with automation tools. Automation is catnip to developers and it’s the Trojan horse to cloud.

There’s nothing alarming about automation at all.

Imagine the Possibilities for Your Applications

There are many ways to bring cloud into existing applications and workloads in your organization. The ephemeral nature of virtual hardware can be difficult to grasp and somewhat unsettling.

Pre-cloud, we built everything like it was poured concrete, a major production that was hard to change and move. Cloud providers gave us small ready-made pieces that are like Lego bricks. We can add, change, build up, tear down and have this enormous flexibility that takes a while to fully appreciate.

In most companies, getting ‘on premise’ servers versus cloud servers, it’s like comparing communist-era food rationing to Costco.

This simple example is just a website. Imagine what you could do for a distributed point of sale system in retail. You could create cloud-based services that securely support your cash registers, website and mobile e-commerce app. Write once, use everywhere. Mind blown.

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