#funny things he can still remember: when people in the dark souls universe actually used coins and not souls as currency

[troquantary]

Edward Cullen: That Boy Ain’t Right

So I was doing a reread of @therealvinelle 's collection of Twilight metas, as one does, and in "Edward, Denial, and a Human Girlfriend" she mentions that she doesn't believe Edward is sane. I thought, "ha, yeah, he's definitely not," and also, "but wait, what does that mean exactly, please say more about that." But since she's already inundated with asks, I've decided to use my own head-muscle and explore this idea. (TL;DR: I start out more or less organized, synthesize some points Vinelle has made across several posts (and have hopefully linked to them all where relevant but please tell me if not), touch a little on narcissism, then take a hard left into the negative effects of being a telepath.)

Just a couple things to note at the outset, though. Theses have been written already (probably) about Edward as an abuser. Edward being insane doesn't negate that at all; he's definitely an asshole and just...a disaster of a human being. (I find it more funny than anything, but YMMV.) I'm also going to try to avoid talking specifically about mental illness and how it relates (or doesn't relate) to abusive behavior -- that's territory I'm not really equipped to discuss, like at all. My starting point is "Edward has a deeply warped perception of reality," not "Edward has X disorder."

So: deeply warped perception of reality. The evidence? Goes behind a cut, because my one character trait is Verbose.

Vinelle provides a great example of it in the post linked above, which I'll just quote because she does words good: "[Edward] keeps acting like his romance with Bella is a romantic tragedy, and all the cast of Twilight are actors on a stage making it as sublime as possible." Edward's the one to pursue Bella, but he does so with the full belief, from the very beginning, that it will never last; Bella will "outgrow" him, go on her human way, and he can spend the rest of eternity brooding magnificently over his too-short romantic bliss. [Insert premature ejaculation joke.] Turning her is never an option, even though Alice, Noted Psychic, says that romancing Bella will either end with her dead (exsanguinated) or dead (vampire).

This framing, where he's a dark anti-hero in love with -- but never tainting! -- the pure maiden and eventually leaving her in a grand, tragic sacrifice to preserve her soul? It's fucking bonkers. Bella isn't a person to him in this scenario. As Vinelle points out, Bella's never really a person to him at all; he falls in love with his own mental construct, cherry-picking from what he observes of her behavior and her responses to his 20 (thousand) Questions to convince himself that she is the ideal woman.

Bella's not the only one who gets the projection/cardboard-cutout treatment. Edward sees everything and everyone through a highly particular, personalized lens. He filters his entire reality, which we all do to an extent, but the thing with Edward is that he starts with his conclusions and then only pays attention to the evidence that supports those conclusions. Often that evidence consists of what he admits in New Moon are only "surface" thoughts -- but recognizing that limitation doesn't keep him from taking those thoughts as representative of what people are. Edward then becomes absolutely convinced by his own "reasoning" and won't be swayed from what he has decided is Objectively True. It's obvious with Bella; it's also painfully obvious with Rosalie. (Vinelle explains this and brings up Edward's raging Madonna/Whore complex in the same post, so refer to that again -- she's right.)

He also catastrophizes. Everything. Bella's just vibing in her room, rereading Wuthering Heights for the 87th time? She's gonna be hit by a meteor, better sneak into her room while she sleeps. Bella's going to the beach with the filthy mundanes their human classmates? She's gonna fall in the ocean. Jasper's cannibal pals are stopping by for a visit, but know not to hunt in the area? DISASTER, DEFCON 1, ALSO FUCK YOU JASPER FOR EVEN EXISTING IN MY AND BELLA'S SPHERE YOU UNSPEAKABLE BURDEN. Edward must believe that Bella is vulnerable and in near-constant peril, to support the reality he has created in which he is the villain turned protector and maybe?? hero??? (!!!) for his beloved. So when the actual, James-shaped danger arrives, he goes berserk, snarling and flipping his shit and generally not helping the situation. His fantasy demands that Bella remain human, so instead of doing the very thing Alice, Noted Psychic, assures him will neutralize the threat (and not just a threat to Bella, either, but to Bella's family and any other human James might decide to include in the "game"), he vetoes it immediately, no discussion. Bella Must Not Turn, and he sticks to those guns despite James nearly reducing her to ground beef, despite leaving Bella catatonic with depression (but human! success!) in New Moon, despite Aro's order and his family's vote and, let's not forget, Bella's clearly and repeatedly stated desire to be a vampire. It's going to happen. But he doesn't accept it until Renesmee busts out of Bella like the Kool-Aid man and the poor girl's heart finally, unequivocally stops.

Sane people don't behave this way. I don't want to slap labels on Edward, but I can't help but note that he comes across as highly narcissistic. He's the only real person in his universe, the lone player among us NPCs. That probably has a lot to do with him being frozen in the mindset and maturity of a seventeen-year-old boy, but I think it's also just...him, on some fundamental level. His failure to connect with others and recognize them as full, independent beings with their own wants and priorities isn't like Bella's failure -- she's badly depressed. Edward is...something else, and I get the sense that his sanity has been steadily deteriorating over time. And a cursory google of narcissistic traits turns up some familiar-looking stuff. He's self-loathing, yes, but also grandiose; he hates himself for the monster he is (and hates most vampires besides Esme and Carlisle for their monstrosity, too) but still feels superior to humans, to the extent that he felt entitled to human blood and resented Carlisle for depriving him of his "proper" diet. He eventually returns to Carlisle, but he's far from content -- the beginning of Midnight Sun finds him in a state of ennui, bored and dismissive of (if not outright disgusted by) everyone around him, that has apparently persisted for years and years. He doesn't play the piano, he doesn't compose, he doesn't enjoy anything...at least until Bella comes along and then he becomes obsessed to a disturbing degree with her and his new, romantic tragedy spin on reality.

[Next-day edit: I’m not sure where else to fit this in, but the way Edward casually contemplates violence against people who have, at best, mildly annoyed him is...chilling. I have a hard time writing off his strategizing how to murder the entire Biology class as a result of bloodlust -- it’s so calculated, nothing like the blackout state of thirst Emmett describes when he encountered his own “singer,” and that is probably the default for when a vampire is extremely thirsty. But even ignoring the Biology class incident, Edward still does things like consider, with disturbing frequency, how he might grievously injure or kill Mike Newton, all because...Edward considers him his romantic rival (despite Bella barely giving the kid the time of day). He thinks about slapping Mike through a wall, which might be an amusing slapstick image, except as a vampire Edward’s actually capable of turning this boy’s skeleton to a fine powder. So it’s, y’know, kind of sick when you think about it.

But even worse than that, when Bella tells Edward about how she flirted with Jacob to get at that sweet, sweet vampire lore, Edward chuckles and then, after dropping Bella home, flippantly observes that now that the treaty’s broken, why not genocide? I’m not even kidding, it’s right there in Midnight Sun; he seriously thinks about the fact that he’d be technically justified now in wiping out the entire tribe because a teenager tried to impress a girl with a spooky story. That is fucked. Remember, Edward was there with Carlisle when the treaty was first established. He knows how remarkable it is that they even came to a truce in the first place, that it was only ever possible because Carlisle is...well, Carlisle, and that it marks a pretty significant moment in supernatural history. He doesn’t care; he doesn’t respect it, or he’d never think something like “Ha ha, if I went and killed them all, I wouldn’t even be wrong. I mean, I won’t do it, but I’m just saying, I wouldn’t be wrong.”

Again: not the thought process or behavior of a sane person. (Or a person that respects life in general -- sorry Carlisle, big L.)]

Finally, whether he's a narcissist or not, I think the fact that Edward has constant, unavoidable access to everyone's thoughts is a powerful contributing factor to his instability. He can tune out the mental noise to an extent, but he can't stop it -- so he comes to rely on it like another sense. This causes issues with disconnect and lack of empathy, of course, but there's another facet to this shit diamond: he's basically experiencing a ceaseless flow of intrusive thoughts. His narration in Midnight Sun suggests that he "hears" the words people think, can "see" what they visualize in their mind's eye, and can sense the emotional "tone" and intensity of their thoughts. Therefore, perceiving Jasper's thirst through his thoughts makes Edward more aware of his own, "doubling" the discomfort. This would be a lot to deal with even from just his immediate coven members, but Edward gets all of this pouring into his head like a firehose on a day-to-day basis because the Cullens live right alongside humans. I know Meyerpires have galaxy brains or whatever, but that's a ton to process.

Besides the compounding effect on his own thirst when he "feels" the thirst of others, Meyer never suggests that Edward has difficulty separating his own thoughts from other people's; even when he was newly turned, he recognized Carlisle's "voice" in his head as Carlisle's. That would create a whole different host of issues around identity, but it looks like Edward's escaped that particular torment. However, I can easily imagine that what he does experience is just shy of unbearable nonetheless, with an eroding effect on his sanity over decades. He can't sleep to escape it; he's on a dishwater diet and probably (like the rest of his family) experiencing a perpetual, low-grade physical discomfort due to his thirst never being fully satisfied; and he's around far more people than is the norm for vampires -- even discounting all the humans, his own coven is unusually large -- meaning more noise.

Honestly, it would be weirder if he were all there, considering.

And even though I feel like I lost a sense of structure around where I started ranting about telepathy, I've written like 1.5k words about Edward fucking Cullen and I think that's enough for one post.

#twilight #twilight renaissance #twilight meta #edward cullen #i stared too long and the twilight abyss gazed back #long post #major credit due to therealvinelle for having basically all the ideas already #theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin too since they agree and build off each other's metas a lot #idk how people who write meta can just crank these posts out i've been here for two hours #edited to add stuff i forgot to mention about edward's disproportionately violent fantasies

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Let's Call It Funny

Prompt: Hi! If you know about those gen z peter parker posts, could your write something based on that? With Steve Getting It (tm) because fatalistic nihilism in humor tended to show up during the world wars and we’re seeing a reflection of that now? Sorry- I just think it’d make great options for steve and peter bonding, and dad!tony but actual emotions (gasp!) You can totally ignore this if you want!

Don't ever apologize for giving me such a great ask

Read on Ao3 Part 2

Warnings: uhhh gen z humor

Pairings: none! all found family in this bitch

Word Count: 2529

Here’s the thing about humor. It’s not necessarily that one generation is any funnier than another, it’s just that high school kids are perpetually the funniest people alive. Something about being in a pressure cooker of an environment with a bunch of other people whose bodies are changing in new unpredictable ways whilst having very little say in how their lives go creates humor. Gasp of shock, right?

So basically what Peter’s trying to say is that he’s fucking hilarious.

Come on, not only does he have the default high schooler stuff, he’s also gay, which gives him an instant bonus. He’s trans, which opens up a whole new subset of humor for him to explore. He’s neurodivergent as fuck, and we all know that makes people funny as hell. And if that weren’t enough, he’s severely traumatized and he’s Spider-Man.

Peter Parker is funny as hell.

What is truly devastating—and really, it’s their loss—is that so few people seem to appreciate it.

Ned gets it. Ned’s not someone Peter would expect to not get it, just because hey, it’s Ned. They’ve met each other in the hallways and been like ‘hey! You’re still alive! Congrats on having a body!’ Only for the other one to go ‘hey! You’re alive too! I wish I had an intangible form!’

Because bodies are stupid and evolution really fucked us over but at least we’re not horses.

A solid 50% of their interactions are just quoting John Mulaney and Bo Burnham bits back and forth at each other. Peter’s never gonna forget the day they both had detention and had to watch that stupid Cap PSA—it’s propaganda, you Nazi fuckwits—and something reminded them of the ‘horse loose in a hospital’ bit and they just did it. Full out. Stood up and did the actions and everything. The rest of the room was either trying to do it with them—and failing, because they didn’t have nearly enough practice—or looking so confused. The security guard—Paul, he’s great—just looked at them blearily after they finished and went:

“I mean, you kids are right, but you’re not supposed to talk in detention.”

Well, excuse them for trying to make it more entertaining for everyone.

MJ gets it. If Peter’s being honest, he learned most of his humor from her. She is the master and it is an honor to study in her wake. He’s definitely hijacked the asking whether or not anything’s actually meaningful existentialism jokes and they’ve wormed their way into his day-to-day repertoire.

“Why are you late, Mr. Parker?”

“Time is a social construct, Mrs. B, none of us are ever late or early except in the subjective spacetime paths. The limits of our sensory perception make it so we can’t tell if anything is real, let alone whether or not they conform to some arbitrary definition of ‘time.’”

“…just sit down, Peter.”

See? It works.

Aunt May gets…worried.

Sure, they’ve actually talked about when Peter needs help and wants to reach out and when he’s just making jokes off the cuff because hey, humor’s a great coping mechanism or it’s just a joke and not that serious. Peter loves his Aunt May, so so so much, and the last thing he wants to do is really worry her. And she’s gotten pretty good at figuring out when he’s just joking and when he’s spiraling.

Sometimes, though…

“Peter,” Aunt May calls from the kitchen, “did you remember to stop by the store on your way home?”

Peter freezes halfway through the door.

“Peter?”

He swallows. “…no.”

“Why not?”

“Because I am too stressed and consumed by the swirling pit of blackness deep in my soul to remember my head is connected to my body, let alone remember to go to the store.”

Silence.

“…Aunt May?”

“Do you want to drop off your stuff and then go to the store?”

“…yeah, please.”

“Love you, Pete.”

“Love you!”

“Try to remember that you’ve got arms so you can pick stuff up.”

“Got it!”

See? It’s fine.

The Avengers don’t get it. Like, at all.

Natasha and Clint like, sorta get it? They make the same jokes all the time when they think Peter can’t hear them, which—come on, you guys are super spies, surely you know people are gonna hear you when they’re gonna hear you. Natasha will make a crack about something, Clint will laugh and shove her shoulder. It’s their dynamic, we get it. But when Peter does it…

“Hey, Baby Spider?”

Peter sticks his head up from the ceiling. “Yeah?”

“Where’re you crawling off to?”

“I’m gonna go hide in the garage.”

Natasha blinks up at him. “Why?”

“Because if I get crushed by the airlock doors then I won’t have to do my paper tomorrow.”

Silence. Natasha’s mask is too good for Peter to actually see what’s going on with her, let alone from this angle, but silence isn’t good.

“Nat—oof!”

Something blurs out of the vent nearby and tackles him down onto the couch.

“Clint!”

“Nope,” Clint mutters, wrapping Peter up in a hug as Natasha comes to join them. “You’re staying with us now, Pete.”

“Guys, I’m fine.”

“Peter,” Natasha says softly, “don’t joke about that, you’ll make us worry.”

“I don’t wanna do that,” Peter mumbles, “but it’s fine.”

“Coping mechanism, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s got too many brain cells to do that,” Clint says, ruffling Peter’s hair.

“Stark has a lot of brain cells, you see what good that does him?”

“Hmm. Guess you’re gonna have to stay awhile, Pete.”

There are worse fates. Definitely.

Thor just kind of gets confused by it. He acts like Peter isn’t going to be absolutely fine because there’s no need to do anything like that. No, Peter, you don’t have to put the bleach in first into your cereal, there’s plenty of milk left over. No, Peter, you don’t have to throw yourself off the roof because your laptop is freezing, Stark has so many just lying around. No, Peter, you don’t have to pack a rucksack and run away to the Alps and live like a recluse, come here and get a hug.

Peter suspects Thor’s playing dumb on purpose. The man is smart as hell, there’s no way all of this is flying over his head. And honestly, it warms his heart a little bit when he sees Thor’s sincere, concerned look when he thinks Peter’s not looking.

Banner and Rhodey just kinda shake their heads and move on. They’re used to it. They live and work with some of the most dramatic fucking people in the goddamn universe, they’re used to a little bit of extra humor. Occasionally one of them will give him a look that says he’s pushing his luck, but that’s not often. Less often now ‘cause he knows what he can get away with. He’s also seen them hiding smiles behind their hands or poorly disguised coughs. They’re not as slick as they think they are.

Tony.

Tony is the fucking worst.

Peter can’t get away with so much as sighing too hard before Iron Dad™ is swooping in all soft words and concerned touches. Jesus. You’d think he’d get it, he uses humor as a coping mechanism too, goddamnit, why is he so worried about Peter?

Okay, fine, he knows why.

MJ’s over at the Tower, having another one of her ‘sketch people in crisis’ appointments with Natasha. Peter is coming off of a 32-hour caffeine rush and is violently wishing for death. Tony is in the kitchen doing…something.

“Hey, do you think bleach would make a good smoothie?”

Tony wheels around to see MJ pulling a glass out of the cupboard.

“Kid—“

“Sounds like a filling breakfast,” Peter groans, “can you make me one too?”

“…I’m legitimately concerned,” comes Tony’s mutter.

MJ ignores him. “Who’s the bitch on your forehead?”

Peter rubs absentmindedly at the massive knot on his head, courtesy of a wall that rudely decided to move at the last second while Peter was attempting to walk through a doorway. “He’s called DJ Braindeath and he’s my only friend in the world.”

“Peter—“

“Oh did you meet him at the furry convention?"

“Technically it’d be a buggie convention.”

“What the hell are you two talking about?”

“The pantry doesn’t have good coffee, I’m going to Starbucks.” MJ grabs her bag. “You want anything?”

“A will to live?”

“Peter, what the fuck—“

“Oof, I’ve only got like…20 bucks.”

Peter lets his head drop back to the counter. “Then just leave me here to die.”

“Can I have champagne at your funeral?”

“I’ll be dead, I won’t fucking care.”

“God, I wish that were me.”

Then MJ’s gone and Peter gets treated to a 20-minute conversation with a very concerned Tony Stark that he doesn’t remember most of because hey caffeine crashes aren’t fun.

He definitely does it on purpose sometimes just to wind Tony up. Like there’s this one incident with an interview he does as Spider-Man and he gets asked what he thinks about Tony Stark’s newest intern, Peter Parker.

“That boy’s an embarrassment, just…complete failure. Can’t speak without stuttering through every other word and self-esteem issues all over the place. Also looks like he got dressed in the dark.”

The reporter had awkwardly moved on to another question. The interview aired later that day while Peter was at the Tower. Tony sat next to him on the couch about halfway through.

“You look good, Pete.”

Peter had mumbled halfheartedly, only to hear the reporter ask the same question.

“See, that’s the problem with having a secret identity, you don’t…” Tony trailed off as he heard the answer.

Peter snorted as Spider-Man finished talking. “Say that to my face, you bitch, get a real job. At least I don’t look like someone vomited silly string all over my spandex.”

“Are you okay?”

See? Fun.

The only one he’s made a conscious effort to not be this funny around is Steve.

Because, okay, here’s the thing. Steve’s disappointed look has no effect on him anymore. He’s immune, motherfuckers, he’s had detention too many times for it to still work. Here’s the other thing: Steve doesn’t actually use that tone of voice that often. It’s this meticulously crafted image he plays up in interviews because it catches all the bad guys so off guard when Captain America is suddenly swearing a blue streak at them and telling them to go fuck themselves in, honestly, quite creative ways. The sincere Steve Rogers disappointment and concern still very much works. Also doesn’t help that Steve does caring so fucking well, like…who gave him the right to say a few things and hold Peter like he’s something precious and do the quick one-two punch of saying a super sincere compliment and following it up with ‘I love you.’ Who did that? It’s rude. Stop it.

And yeah, Steve’s the resident Mom at the Ready. It’s a risk to even sit on your bed looking sad ‘cause here he comes, wearing something snuggly and saying ‘hey’ in that stupid, stupid compassionate voice. So Peter knows he’s just gonna end up crying from too much soft if Steve actually gets concerned. Which won’t be fair because he’s gonna try and explain that he’s fine and it’s just his sense of humor while crying. Yeah, like that’s gonna be believable.

So he’s trying not to but damnit it’s hard.

Then he walks into the kitchen one day to see Steve struggling with the toaster.

It’s one of Tony’s new prototypes—which means that anyone struggling with it is so fair—and from the looks of it, it’s managed to not only burn the bread to a crisp, but also mangle the slices beyond recognizable shape.

Peter’s not paying that much attention. He’s on his phone, heading towards his spot in the corner with the beanbag chairs and definitely doesn’t recognize Steve as he goes.

He only plops down and hears someone declare, in a completely deadpan voice: “There is no point to existing at all.”

“Oh, mood.”

He doesn’t think much of it. He doesn’t even know who said that, that’s how hyper-focused he is right now. He hears the others come in and feels Clint plonk down next to him.

“Hey, Pete.”

“Sah, dude.”

“Just vibing. Did I do it right?”

“Yeah, man you’re going great.”

“You teach Thor ‘yeet’ yet?”

“We’re getting there.”

“Steve,” he hears Tony call from the kitchen, “what the fuck did you do?”

“Language.”

“Don’t fucking talk to me about language when you’re making toast that looks like a goddamn welder’s table, what is that?”

“Your prototype’s work, I imagine.”

“How did you even—“

Clint chuckles next to him as the two of them start fondly bickering. Peter’s too busy speedrunning the five stages of grief in his head.

Did…did Steve say the thing about there being no point to existence at all?

No…no way.

He must be imagining things.

Then, of course, there’s a chime on his phone.

Ned: Did u do the bio hw?

There was bio homework?

Ned: yeah, due at noon

“I now know why God abandoned this timeline and when will death come to take me?”

The room goes silent.

Shit.

“Peter,” Clint says, “it’s gonna be fine, you can do bio homework in your sleep—“

“Are you okay?” Ah, that’s Thor.

“Kid—“

And Nat, and Tony’s probably rushing over here as he speaks.

Then there’s another voice.

“We can only pray the reaper arrives early for his appointment with us, kid.”

Peter’s head snaps up.

Steve.

Steve fucking Rogers raises a coffee cup at him in salute and takes a sip. He makes a face.

“…that was definitely salt,” he mutters, before shrugging and downing the whole thing.

…what?

Peter’s still staring at him until he catches his gaze and winks.

Oh, fuck yes.

“Steven Grant Rogers,” Tony says, hands on his hips, “explain.”

Steve just gives him a look. “I grew up in the Great Depression, Tony, and I was in the army. You don’t think I have a fatalistic sense of humor?”

“Plus the fact that most of my generation is resorting to types of humor found when death and stress are so ever-present that you have to joke about it says something,” Peter adds, “doesn’t it?”

Steve raises his cup again. “See? He gets it.”

And just like that, the bond between Peter Parker and Steve Rogers was written, formed, and sealed in salt and existentialist depression.

“There’s two of you,” Tony mumbles, “oh my god, there’s two of you.”

“Oh, you just wait ’til Buck and Sam get back.”

Peter can’t fucking wait.

#marvel #mcu #avengers #spider man #peter parker #fic #dragonbabbles

[littlemisspascal]

Death and an Angel part 10

Death!Din x Cupid F!Reader

Summary:  Neither you nor Din are handling your capture well.

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,978

Warnings: captured reader, surprises, plot plot plot, violence, Din goes a bit dark side

Author Note: So sorry this is coming out late 😳 Between making YouTube videos and New Years everything got hectic, but here it is. I attempted writing from Din’s perspective this time so bear with me cuz he’s having a rough time😬 

Links to Part 1 and Part 9 and Part 11

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

When you wake up, you’re lying facedown on a pallet in a dark and cold room. You groan, head pounding, and try to sit up, but your weak muscles protest, resulting in you rolling awkwardly onto your backside. Squinting up at the ceiling, you notice it is made of rock, as is the wall to the right of you.

Your head lolls to the left, granting you a lovely view of a red laser gate trapping you inside this strange cell. The faint glow it gives off produces barely enough light to reveal more rocky walls curving off to the side. You’re in a cave, you realize, processing everything at the rate of a snail’s pace, or some kind of underground tunnel.

At first you can’t remember how you ended up here, or what happened to you, but then everything hits you all at once.

“Finally,” a voice declares from beyond your cell. The purple twi’lek from earlier steps out of the shadows and leers at you from the other side of the laser gate. “I was beginning to think I misjudged the dosage.”

With monumental effort, you push yourself onto your knees, dizziness slamming into your skull with the brutal intensity of a hammer, and reach a hand out to summon your bow.

Nothing happens.

“What—why isn’t it—” The words are thick and clumsy, slurring together as if your tongue has forgotten how to form them individually. Closing your eyes to stop the room from spinning, you feel nothing but unbalanced and vulnerable. You try to speak again, taking a steadying breath. “What is wrong with me?”

“You’ve been collared. All the pets in the Moff’s collection wear one,” she answers, as casually as if she’s discussing the weather outside. “Keeps you from using your abilities and causing trouble.”

She has no reason to lie, but you still gasp when your trembling hand brushes against the metal band encircling your neck. Panicking, you pull on it without thinking, only for a responding jolt of electricity to shock your fingertips and fry every nerve ending in your body. You cry out at the pain, but the sound is drowned out by the twi’lek’s screech-like laughter.

“That never gets old,” she says, wiping an imaginary tear from her eye.

“Death,” you mutter hoarsely, closing your eyes again and breathing shallowly through your mouth. “Death is going to slaughter all of you.”

“Oh, pet, you just don’t get it, do you?“ Her voice is practically dripping with condescension as she coos at you, “The Moff wants you here because you’re precious to Death.”

Against your better judgement, you open your eyes to look at her, confused by the wide smile you see stretching across her face. At headquarters, Gideon and your superiors had seemed far more concerned about the fact you had a second soulmate rather than who it was you matched with. If Gideon is punishing you for being Din’s soulmate (a fate which you had no control over whatsoever), you can’t help thinking he must be insane or have a legitimate desire to have his body dismembered piece by bloody piece. There is no denying that Din will do anything he can to get you back. Even break the rules of the universe.

You freeze.

Kriff. The puzzle pieces begin fitting together and you loathe the hideous picture they form.

“You are Death’s weakness. And anyone with a weakness can be taken advantage of if the right strings are pulled,” the twi’lek says, confirming your fears. She then winks at you coyly. “Congratulations, pet, you’ve just become Moff Gideon’s favorite puppet.”

You barely refrain from shouting curses at her as she walks away, leaving you alone with your chaotic thoughts.

Lying back down on the pallet, you press your hands over your eyes, tuning out the coldness of your surroundings and seeking out the warmth of your soulmate bond. You call out Din’s name within your mind, a repetitive chant increasing in urgency as you pray against all odds he hears you. But as the silence continues and you start to feel a phantom sensation of pain emanating from your throat, as if you have actually scraped it raw by how loudly you call, your heart breaks as it accepts the bitter truth: he can’t hear you.

You touch the collar again, every internal instinct you have screaming it is to blame for the invisible wall blocking you from reaching out to Din. How long have you been collared? How much time has passed since you were drugged at headquarters? Regardless, you don’t have any doubt Din is losing his mind right now. And his temper.

A few tears leak from the corners of your eyes, but you do not sob or sniffle. Gideon and his minions will not have the satisfaction of hearing you crying. Din wouldn’t like it either, you think, remembering his reaction on the Razor Crest when he’d found you panicking. He had held your hand, offering you any support he could to end your sorrows. Even offering to kill for you.

It’s funny, though, because few people seem to realize the feeling is mutual. You would do anything in the galaxy to spare Din a second’s worth of pain. If Gideon is under the impression you’ll just silently let him use you in order to exploit Din to do his bidding, then he’s going to be thoroughly pissed to learn just how stubborn you can be. Taking away your Cupid abilities might have weakened you, but you’re not going to be a helpless kriffing damsel.

Although, you correct yourself ruefully as you lower your hands and look around your confines, you might currently be a little helpless. You take in the high ceiling above you, thinking you’ll be able to stand at full height once the effects of the drug wear off and still not be able to touch the top. It scares you to think how far your cell has been dug beneath the surface of whichever planet Gideon has imprisoned you on. The twi’lek had referenced he had a collection of others hidden away in these tunnels. How many have died here with no one up above being any the wiser?

Pushing the morbid thoughts aside, your gaze drifts along the walls, noting the varying shapes and sizes of the rocks. They are all different shades of brown except for one odd green one in the corner. You look at the laser gate, knowing it can’t be shut off unless you have access to the generator which severely limits your plans of escaping since—

Your thoughts screech to a halt as your eyes snap back to the corner.

A rock does not have a little green body clothed in brown wool or long pointed ears. Nor does it peer back at you with large, innocent eyes as it clutches a piece of dirty black fabric with tiny three-fingered hands. And it certainly doesn’t waddle up to you and coo curiously in your stunned face.

You rub at your eyes, half-convinced you have now begun hallucinating things.

Nope. That little green face is still there when you open them again. It’s official, your brain isn’t screwing with you.

Your cellmate is a kriffing baby.

~~

Decades ago Din was approached by a man who begged to be killed. He had been separated from his soulmate against his will and compared the pain he felt to the sensation of a thousand needles injecting acid straight into his bloodstream. However, Din had sensed the man’s lifetime was far from over and ignored his pleas.

Thinking about that incident now, Din has determined the man’s comparison to be a gross understatement. Being forcefully separated from his angel is as if an invisible force is holding him underwater, wishing him to drown. His brain is on the verge of exploding, torn between thoughts of bloodthirsty savagery and the overwhelming agony of not being able to breathe without her in his sight. Every hour they remain apart threatens to rob him of his sanity and transform his outward appearance from man to monster.

 Already he has experienced a lapse in control of his powers the moment he’d first felt their bond had been blocked. He’d been forced to teleport away from Kuiil’s farm, lest he risk reaping the Ugnaught’s soul before its destined time, and unleashed his wrath upon an uninhabitable Outer Rim planet. His powers had pierced its core in the same effortless manner a vibroblade cuts through flesh, killing its essence instantaneously. In a matter of minutes, the planet would be nothing more than scattered dust particles floating through the vastness of space, though he did not linger to witness the destruction.

Instead, he returned to his ship and sent a holographic message to his most trusted reapers, assigning them the critical task of searching the galaxy for one specific target: Valin Hess. While they hunted down the bastard, he dedicated his time to searching for his better half. He extended his powers to each individual planet and moon in every region, tendrils of darkness looking through homes and alleyways for even the faintest trace of her vibrant aura amongst trillions of souls.

Now, ten hours later, he is interrupted by the chime of an incoming call.

“Come to Trask,” Bo-Katan says bluntly, not one to waste crucial time with excess words. “I've got him ready for you.”

“Good,” Din says. His own voice sounds strange even to himself. As he reaches for his helmet, his reflection in its visor reveals his eyes have changed from brown to solid black, his true form beginning to break through the human facade he cloaks himself in. 

He had been warned in the past of the grievous consequences that will ripple across the galaxy should he ever lose control of his internal darkness. But if unleashing that force brings him even one step closer to reuniting with his angel?

He won’t even hesitate a heartbeat.

~~

You are quick to learn three important facts about your cellmate.

First and foremost, the baby adores attention. Within minutes of discovering him, he climbs into your lap and snuggles against your stomach, making a strange purring sound of happiness. Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest when you notice the tiny collar around his neck, identical to yours. Why would Gideon be keeping a child in his collection? Any potential answer that comes to mind makes you feel sick.

“You’re safe with me,” you tell him gently, stroking your fingertips over his wrinkly brow and the sparse amount of fuzzy hair on top of his head. He coos as if he understands you, ears perking up. “We’ll get through this together.”

Secondly, he is extremely possessive of his belongings. You learn this the hard way when you reach for the torn piece of black fabric he has gripped in his hands, intending to get a closer look at it because it doesn’t resemble a usual child’s blanket, but instead more so a torn bit of clothing—only for surprisingly sharp teeth to nip at your fingers.

You pull your hand away and hold it up, showing you mean no harm. “I’m sorry, bud. I should have asked permission first.”

Brown eyes stare back at you for a silent beat, painfully reminding you so much of Din you almost can’t bear to look at them, before the baby bobs his head with a low grunt. You chuckle at his cuteness. Although you hate the unfairness of the situation, you’re grateful for his presence as it stops you from worrying incessantly about your disconnected bond. As long as you wear the collar, you remind yourself, there isn’t anything you can do to reach Din. So you’ll just have to continue being patient and live with the uncomfortable hollow sensation until you can determine the best opportunity of freeing yourself.

And the baby now, too, you can’t help but silently add, looking down at him.

It is impossible for you within your cell to tell how much time passes as there are not any nearby clocks or windows providing a glimpse of the sky. As a Cupid, nourishment isn’t a necessity like it is for mortals, so you’re unsurprised no one has come by to offer you food or water. However, the same apparently can’t be said for the baby whose stomach growls unexpectedly, startling you both with its loudness.

He looks down at himself then at the laser gate. His ears twitch, as if he hears something, before he lets out a quiet whine. You open your mouth, wanting to console him, only for him to push himself out of your lap and waddle quicker than you anticipate towards the corner you initially spotted him in.

Thirdly, he is a master escape artist.

“What—” you start to ask, only for your jaw to drop when he squeezes himself through a small hole you failed to notice earlier, no bigger in diameter than a womp rat’s body, and disappears from view.

You stare at the corner, a million questions swirling inside your brain, each one focused on the baby. Where the kriff did he go? What is on the other side of the wall? Will he be okay?

The laser gate abruptly vanishes, plunging your cell into total darkness. You immediately press your back against the wall, blinking rapidly to try to adjust your vision, but you can’t even see your own hands in front of you. There is a distinct clicking sound of a button being pressed and then a glowing black blade lights up mere inches away from the side of your face, nearly singing your hair. You’re unable to stop yourself from crying out in terror, flinching backwards and hitting your head hard enough you see stars.

Over the pounding of your heartbeat and the eerie humming of the weapon next to your ear, you hear a familiar chuckle.

You freeze. Dank farrik.

“Believe it or not,” Gideon begins, looming ominously in the darkness. “I remember our first meeting when you awoke after your transformation. You weren’t special by any means, not one detail even remotely suggesting you would become such an invaluable asset to my plans. I’ve come to realize your unmemorable appearance was the universe’s attempt of concealing you from me. It might have worked, too, except the universe is a hopeless romantic, unable to help itself from matching soulmates. How else can it be explained why you were chosen out of all potential Cupids to monitor Death each month, thus increasing your affections for each other, if not for fate’s divine intervention?”

Gideon lifts the blade away from your personal space and holds it in front of him, outlining his features enough you’re able to see him peering down at you, expression blank and giving you no hints as to what is going on inside his head right now. “Your capture has driven Death into quite a frenzy. His influence can be felt in each region of space. Even his reapers have become involved.”

He pauses, as if he’s expecting a response from you, but you’re unable to look away from the laser sword in his grip. You wonder if all seraphs possess them, such as all Cupids wield bows, or if he had it specially crafted for his own pleasure. Regardless, the negative energy it radiates is strong enough that you feel as if dozens of spiders are crawling over every inch of your entire body.

“Your soulmate has no notion of my involvement, but even if it were revealed to him you are being kept here I thoroughly warded this location to hide myself from those intending me harm. Your presence will continue to remain invisible to his powers as long as he desires bloodshed. So I suggest you better make yourself comfortable because this cell shall be your home for the foreseeable future.”

Swallowing against your suddenly dry throat, you ask, “Do you honestly think keeping me hostage will grant you control over him?”

Gideon inclines his head. “I think you underestimate his willingness to guarantee your safety. He’ll commit any sin imaginable if it means not one hair harmed on your head.”

“Death won’t listen to a single word unless he has proof I’m okay,” you say, the beginnings of a risky plan forming in your head. “Which means you have to let me talk to him.”

“I’m not the fool you think I am,” he replies, shaking his head in a reproachful manner, as if you are no older than a child. But your hopes rise when you notice there is the smallest glimmer of intrigue in his eyes.

You position yourself on your knees, eyes wide and brimming with tears, clasping your hands together as you start to beg. “Please, sir, the separation is tearing me apart. I can’t handle the pain anymore. I must see him. I’ll convince Death to kill whoever in the galaxy you want. He’ll do it without question if I’m the one who asks.”

Gideon considers you wordlessly for a long moment. The hum of the weapon and your heavy, anxious breathing are the only audible sounds. And in that moment you pray harder than you’ve ever prayed in your entire lifetime.

Let this work. Please, please let this work.

You know the exact second he gives in to your begging because a smile pulls at the corners of his mouth, teeth bared almost predatorily.

“Very well then. Tomorrow I will make preparations for you to contact Death. Think carefully until then about what you will say in order to convince him to be agreeable with me. It would be a shame to use this ,” his sword hovers in front of your face once more, the tip nearly touching your chin, “to cut off your tongue should you fail or if you attempt to be clever and alert him of your whereabouts.”

Step one complete, you think to yourself after he has departed and the laser gate returns. Wiping away the lingering tears, you begin to plan step two.

Getting this kriffing collar off your neck.

~~

Valin Hess is every bit the smug bastard Din predicted him to be. Despite the binders securing his wrists to a pipe high above his head and his bleeding split lip, the high-ranking Cupid still has enough arrogance to smirk at Din when he arrives at the abandoned warehouse Bo-Katan chose as the setting for the interrogation.

“Tell me where she is,” Din demands through clenched teeth as he marches up to the pompous prick without sparing a glance towards the red-haired reaper silently leaning against the nearby wall. He knows Bo-Katan is smart enough not to intervene.

“Just who would you be referring to?” Hess blinks innocently back at him.

His nose crumples beneath the knuckles of Din’s fist, blood bursting from his nostrils and staining Din’s gloves crimson.

“I am not known for my patience,” Din says. “Your suffering will only worsen the longer you keep me from my soulmate. I know you are aware of where she’s being kept. So tell. Me. Now.”

Untamed fury burns hotly beneath his skin, threatening to incinerate his mortal guise and his armor as if both were made of paper. It takes all of Din’s self-control not to give into the wicked desire to break each one of the Cupid’s bones, to peel off his skin layer by layer, to twist and carve and scar his body until there is not a single identifiable feature left.

“I haven’t the faintest notion nor care where she wound up.” Hess’ naturally gruff voice has changed to a nasally sounding one due to his broken nose. If the response hadn’t further stirred Din’s annoyance, he might have smirked beneath his helmet instead of snarled. “As soon as that twi’lek dragged her unconscious body out of headquarters, she became a nonentity to me.”

Din places his gloved hands over the other immortal’s shoulders, resting them there long enough Hess starts to twitch, unable to hide his increasing panic, and then Din squeezes until both clavicles shatter at the same time with a resounding crack . Hess tosses his head back, howling like a wounded animal, but Din is not yet finished.

He slams his fists against Hess’ torso, growling loud enough to be heard over the merciless snapping of each individual rib, “Give me a name.”

When the only answer he receives is agonized screaming, Din decides another approach is necessary to produce the desired results. He rips his gloves off, this time unable to resist smirking when Hess immediately starts to choke on his tongue and blood as he shakes his head emphatically, eyes blown wide with fear.

Din’s fingers reach out towards the Cupid’s temples, the veins in his hands ominously black in color.

“Xi’an!” Hess shouts, blood spraying from his mouth and painting Din’s visor. He doesn’t even notice, already planning the hunt for his next target. “The twi’lek that took your whore is named Xi’an!”

Din stills. “My... whore?”

Every lightbulb within the warehouse shatters, glass and sparks raining down upon them and the concrete floor. Hess starts babbling, a litany of apologetic words, but Din is beyond reasoning. Something sinister and feral has awakened within him, intertwining itself with his powers and enhancing their strength beyond what he ever imagined possible.

Din has reaped countless souls over the span of his existence. He has mastered the precise method of coaxing a soul out of a corpse, persuading them gently with his powers. Once the essence is held within his grip, the universe judges it, deciding either eternal damnation or a glorious afterlife. Most people tend to think Din is who chooses their fates, one of the many reasons why they fear him, but he has never been powerful enough to personally influence anyone’s destiny.

Until now.

He lowers one hand to hover over the center of Hess’ sternum, sensing the soul living deep within. It is a little battered from Din’s assault, but otherwise it resembles every other soul he’s ever reaped: a glowing, fidgety, amorphous bundle of energy.

Usually, he’d patiently guide the soul towards the corpse’s esophagus. But Hess is undeserving of such kindness. Din’s powers sink into the essence like sharpened claws, yanking it into Hess’ throat. The soul puts up a valiant fight, recognizing its host is still alive and thus should not be prematurely abandoned. But Din will not yield to its struggles, his powers manifesting dark tendrils to wrap around it in an unbreakable hold.

“You’re killing him!” Din hears someone call out over the harsh choking sounds Hess is making. Their voice is familiar and feminine sounding. “It’s not his time, you have to stop!”

Stop? No. He can’t. Not now when he’s on the verge of fulfilling the oath he’d sworn to his angel.

With one forceful twist of his wrist, the soul is helplessly torn from Hess’ bloodstained mouth and ensnared by Din’s awaiting hand. Without the essence of life, the light fades from the Cupid’s eyes and his broken body hangs limply from the binders.

The afterlife was never going to be an option as the soul’s final destination. However, Din has decided damnation is also too kind a place for vermin like Hess. There must be a third fate, he thinks.

Din squeezes his fist tighter and tighter, generating a cacophony of anguished shrieks from the soul. Ignoring the near-deafening cries, he gradually increases the pressure until at last it lets out one final high-pitched wail before disintegrating into dust that forms an unsuspecting pile on the floor when he uncurls his fingers.

A sharp gasp has Din turning, forgetting he has a witness present, and he finds Bo-Katan staring back at him with blatant horror. “What have you done?”

“What was necessary.”

Tag List: @leilei-draws​, @theocatkov​, @vintagesaph​, @stardust-and-starlight​, @adrieunor​, @remmyswritings​, @gallowsjoker​, @rhiannon-russo​, @randomness501​, @sylphene​, @softly-sad​, @maytheglitter​, @melobee​, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives​, @eleinemk​, @captain-jebi​, @aerynwrites​, @promiscuoussatan​, @stilllivindue2spite​, @coaaster​, @lin-djarin​, @oh-no-a-whovian​, @becauseican2, @kay2304, @odelia-d32, @nicotinebirds

#din djarin x reader #din djarin #din djarin x you #Pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #death and an angel #my fic #my writing #soulmate au

[hatchetfieldtheories]

Return to Hatchetfield-Town – The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals Part 1

Alright settle down kiddos. Get comfy, find a warm blanket and hug your favourite fwendy-wend as we start our Return to Hatchetfield-Town series.

I’ll be rewatching all the Hatchetfield scripted content (i.e. not livestreams or interviews) and jotting down what happens, explaining some concepts and delving into some of the key theories in the series (and using the word “implications” that often it will cease to have meaning).

Even though I’ll be doing the rewatch by show in order they came out, there will be spoilers for all Hatchetfield content that is available as of the rewatch.  

I’ve also linked to a number of other blog’s theories here because they are amazing, but if you aren’t happy with your theory being included I will be more than happy to remove it!  Just let me know.

[Part 2]

The Guy Who Really Hated Brigadoon

TGWDLM starts off with the greatest song ever to feature dancing zombies… at least I can’t think of any other notable ones.

In the title song, the cast of singing and dancing zombies explain to us that all great stories have to have a hero, someone who knows right and wrong and that the best way to do this is through singing and dancing in musicals.  This with the later line of “they evoke the philosophical” make me think that Pokey took a class in Campbell’s Hero Myth in College and became that guy.

Hatchetfield Challenge: try not to shrug your shoulders along with the music at the chorus. Its impossible. No wonder the Hive spread so quickly.  Literally killer dance moves.

So then they introduce us to an awful Grinch named Paul and we hit the first point in the show where I laugh out loud every single time I watch.

I know TGWDLM was not originally intended to be the first Hatchetfield show but starting this series with a song which sets up the story so well is truly spectacular.   And is there anything more Starkid than introducing your main character by having other characters sing about how awful they are?

One thing I have noticed while writing, reading and collating Hatchetfield theories is that while most Black Friday and Nightmare Time theories are usually about the overall Hatchetfield lore, most TGWDLM theories are usually quite self-contained and focused on this one show.  TGWDLM – while so fully within the Hatchetfield extended universe, is definitely the show that can best stand-alone without the others.

It’s the end of the world, Paul

If you don’t sing

This is the bridge, Paul

Where we globalize everything

And the words will come to you

We swear we will teach you

What it means to love

What it means to obey, Paul!

On a first watch this is very funny.  On your 10th watch this is terrifying.

CCRP Technical: No-one here knows how to use their printer

Following the absolute bop of a title song we find ourselves in CCRP Technical and all feels very… normal. It’s very weird following all the revelations in subsequent Hatchetfield media, to be watching a show where there was genuinely nothing obviously fishy about CCRP.  We’ll obviously discuss CCRP more when we get to Nightmare Time, but for now all we know is that Paul works in the technical department of CCRP – an unknown corporation, with some key characters, Charlotte, Bill and Ted.

We also find out more about Grinch Paul’s personality and honestly, Paul is me pre-pandemic just outright avoiding social interactions and suddenly going for coffee in the middle of the work day. (I have become a changed woman in lockdown – someone please invite me somewhere… anywhere!)

For all the dark humour and death in the Hatchetfield series, Starkid do know how to bring the joy – I love how excited the town of Hatchetfield are for a touring production of Mamma Mia.  

Fake Fact: TGWDLM is actually an allegory for Europe in the 1970s, when we all became mind-controlled by Abba’s Waterloo.  (Find me a better explanation for Eurovision, I dare you!  The sequins were just too shiny!)

“The idea of sitting there… trapped in a musical.  That is my own personal hell.”

Two words: Emma Perkins – need I explain any more?  

Ah Hot Chocolate Boy.  I really look forward to finding out more about him.  Where does he come from?  He just appears out of the ether. What’s his story?  How old is he? How many hot chocolates does he have per day? I know we have since had some confirmation on who he is, but they raise more questions than answers. For now I will just point you to a gorgeous Mood Board by @hatchetfieldmoodboards which features a bit of a spoiler. 

For real though – is it just me who would love a full version of “I’ve been brewing up your coffee”?

Hatchetfield Challenge: Try not to sing “Shut the f*ck up” along with Emma.

“Watching people sing and dance makes me very uncomfortable”- oh boy Paul… you’re not going to enjoy the next hour and 40 minutes.  Also, Paul, you’re making me uncomfortable watching you throw your brand new coffee around as if you’ve just been given an empty cup.  There’s imaginary coffee everywhere.  Hopefully, HCB won’t slip on it before it’s cleaned up… he’s already having a bad day.

“Thunder and Lightning… very very frightening.  But a big rock hurtling through the clouds is no biggie.” – all the residents of Hatchetfield apparently.

The next sequence happens so fast and we get introduced to a lot of characters.  Notably Greenpeace Girl, Alice and Deb, Sam, and Hidgens (though we don’t find out his name until much later). This scene impresses me because they do such a great job of very quickly bringing out so many characters who nonetheless are memorable when they return later in the show.

Peanuts the Hatchetfield Pocket Squirrel is an Eldritch Being. I won’t go into Peanuts theories here as that could be a whole post in itself – and many a person more brilliant than I have written some fantastic theories on this. You can learn all about how a Squirrel took over the fandom in the following posts:

@dahlialupine : x

@frombothofmyhearts​: x

@abiimaryy​: x

And finally mine which is definitely a serious theory: x

It’s… A… Musical!

Now to remember we are actually watching a musical.  La Dee Da Da Day is such a happy joyful song performed spectacularly by a throng of the undead.

The song is about the Hive singing about how much of a great time they are having now they are tap-dancing zombies, and trying to find ways to convince Paul he should join them too. So the grins on all their faces are not at all terrifying.

 It’s worth noting also that according to the laws of the TGWDLM world, only those infected by the Hive can hear the music in the background.  This becomes important later when it becomes clear some characters have started being infected before they are fully turned into zombies, but for now it just paints quite a funny picture of what Paul must be witnessing. I definitely think for him, this whole scene just sounds like this clip of Greased Lightning without the music: x

The important thing here however, besides Mariah’s singing, is that the Hive leave Paul alone.  They don’t actually attempt to turn him at this point.  I have a theory on the implications of this, but note this has big spoilers for the end of the show and Black Friday.  It was written before we knew that the Hive (Pokey) was related to Wiggly but the content still stands: x

Charlotte, Honey, you don’t need that much sugar – you’re sweet enough

For reference:

@melchron​  noted that the lyrics for La Dee Dah sound very similar to the incantation for soul transferal read out in Jane’s a Car, which leads me to two possible implications.

The Freaky Furbies have a language other than English that they use for their incantations so this is why they sound similar.

There is soul transference happening to the souls of the bodies the Hive take over.

Or it’s just Starkid using similar sounding words for their content…. Three! There are three possible implications…

Paul – just print off another copy of the report

From this point on the musical numbers really do come thick and fast.  We move on to the first instance of Jeff Blim encouraging Paul to talk about his feelings, which I am sure is not important and isn’t worth discussing.  Paul goes through a musical rendition of a promotion interview, which is actually the Hive attempting to find out if he will be the “hero” of their story.  They picked out Paul for the role from the start. That he was chosen was inevitable.

What do you see for this company? I'm looking for someone with strong ambition Someone to sell their specific vision Someone to share with precise precision their thoughts 'Cause I want you to want…To want

So it turns out these will be looooong, so I will end here and see you in part 2!  I’m not sure yet what the upload frequency will be.  It takes quite a while to go through the show like this but it is a lot of fun!

Hatchetfield High Homework:

Where do you stand on the Peanuts the Hatchetfield Pocket Squirrel debate?

Why do you think that the Soul Transference Spell and La Dee Dah sound so similar?

Go follow all the lovely people mentioned in this post!

Bonus points if you know the reference in the post title.

[Part 2]

#the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #return to hatchetfield town #starkid #team starkid

[worstloki]

okay so on the idea that the nine realms is the america of space:

- everyone knows what’s going on there all the time because word gets out on every major event but everyone outside the nine is just a spectator at this point so people be eyeing the crazy stuff going on there but everyone also just moves on with their day

- this results in midgard and asgard being the star attractions where midgard is like the generation of younger activists fighting the system but its also florida with a few people doing crazy things while meanwhile asgard is the governing political mess (re: the other realms are just chilling. maybe they’re michigan or minnesota or every state that just exists and doesn’t get much attention? jotunheim can totally be texas though because its got its own personality but also gets stereotyped.) 

- “so one of the weapon rich kids on Terra went through a life changing field trip and now he’s made himself a fully operational suit of armour and claims to be defending the planet” “with their noob tech? really?? they don’t even stand a chance against anything in the rest of their own galaxy--” “no no no he’s defending the planet and establishing peace... only within the populations on Terra” “aww that’s so cute” “i know!”

- space has all the gossip which means they know all the messed up stuff going on within the nine realms and everyone in space is kinda detached and not a part of it so its like a tragic-comedy reality show that people like to keep up with

- “so odin is pretending his new son is actually his firstborn now... and also banned talking about the whole history of being built on colonialism and also no one is ever allowed to mention his executioner daughter’’ “huh, weird”

- “odin totally stashed the tesseract on Terra to keep it safe” “why are you telling me this” “I was just thinking about how funny it’d be if those short-lived humans found it one day” “you’re not going to go find it for yourself? it’d sell for loads of credits...” “nah dude i’m not risking stepping into the pit of despair that is that dark dark section of the universe”

- “there are rumours he stole the jotunheim king's kid and is raising him as an asgardian” “does the kid know?” “the father sure doesn't he thinks the baby was killed” “no wonder laufeys been going a bit off the edge recently” “i’m feeling worse for the poor kid stuck with odin now”

- “hey so that Terra hero Quill was always going on about? he’s been found and recently unfrozen apparently” “dont lie to me - humans don’t live that long” “that’s just what I heard i swear”

- “odin used another realm as a time out dumping ground” “which one now?” “the second one, and midgard this time” “at least midgard isn’t filled with the souls of the dishonorable dead?” “well it was his favourite kid, so, ya know,” “ah yes, blatant nepotism, thou art a villain” 

-  “odin did--” “oh $#!^ what'd the old man do NOW” “well you know the stolen jotun kid? odin didn’t tell him he was a different species” “oh WOW that’s messed up” “oh yeah definitely. so anyways he tried to kill himsel-” “that place still has systematic racism in place and his other son has been pushing for violence since he was a kid so...  what’d the old fart THINK would happen?” “beats me”

-  everybody KNOWS what’s going on around there but no one wants to get stuck in that mess so they leave it alone and don't prod the nine realms with a ten foot pole if they can help it hence the negative connotations of midgard especially in gotg and captain marvel 

-  thanos can be colonial britain or something idk how history works but lets assume he thinks it’s prime time to go to planets and just kill some people and take their stuff for his own cause and also Sanctuary has 0 natural spices other than a pinch of salt okay

-  ''i heard odin’s stolen kid, loki i think his name was? yeah I heard he finally got a ticket out of the nine realms'' ''good for him'' ''he landed with thanos though...'' ''well, $#!^”

- “Terra’s got a little band of protectors now” “yes I heard they took down Loki” “which would’ve been such a cool thing to watch honestly I mean a master of magic vs those cute little human beans” “nah he was totally faked it. I heard the guy didn’t even want to attack the place but thanos didn’t give him another out and wanted a native to speak for him.” “so he was playing thanos? oh boy that aint gonna end well” “but he also got the mind stone away from thanos so...” “the icon really just did that?? ayyy I stan 1 prince of asgard” 

- “so I heard Terra’s hero band really just broke up because of some signature dispute” “I thought they don’t have a centralised government system yet though?” “there’s some subgoverning system that’s got most of the planet agreeing” “thats wild” “yeah so anyways there are still 2 stones there but now there’s no team to keep them safe” “oh yikes do you think we should try and assist or something in case thanos sends a retrieval party or something?” “I mean we probably should but I’m not doing it” “can’t they send Cap Marvel in? she’s from Terra aint she?” “yeah they should send Danvers in”

- “I heard odin finally kicked the bucket” “about time” “yeah but also his actual firstborn the one he tried to delete is back now...” “oh darn is loki ok?” “yeah he’s been on sakaar for like a week now just chilling” “good for him” “yeah but hela is totally trying to reinstate all the colonial bull loki was getting rid of as king” “where’s thor at in all this” “i think he accused loki of killing odin right after odin tried to guilt trip him into accepting he was a good father” “oh ew” 

- “hey so they got rid of hela but asgard blew up-” “D:” “-and loki got to do it” “:D” “yeah i thought you’d like that... so do you think we should offer aid? they’re kinda in the way of thanos’ route to midgard” “they’re asgardians” “yeah but its not their fault they were living in asgard” “i’m not going anywhere near the nine realms thanks” “you’re right they’ll probably be fine anyways”

- “hey so... asgard was not fine” “oh no” “he’s heading to earth now for the other stones” “i’m not stepping foot anywhere near there, plus they’ve got their own protectors and all” “dude they broke up years ago remember the signing issues” “that’s still a thing?” “yeah dude it never ended” “wack”

- “i think thanos really is going to succeed and snap half the universe” “well if asgard needed support they could’ve just asked vanaheim or something” “asgard never admits to needing help we already know this” “maybe we should’ve told the other realms to help midgard jů̸̢̠̳͎̳̾̓̉͜st ̷͚͙̯̺̻̦̦̃̓̒̔͜i̴̺̼̗̞̘͖͉̙̾̆̋͂̀̚̚͠n ̷̜̮͚͖́̅̈̌̐͑͛͝ć̵̭͛͛̎͋̀à̷͚̬̩̾̒̅̿̄͆͋s̷̰̖̳̙̠͈̀͊̀ḙ̷͐͑̀̌̉...” “nah Migdard will be fine” “...” “john?” “...” “john?!” “...” “JOHN NOOO!!!” [five years later] “John! You’re back! Dude!! I missed you so much!!” “I told you we should’ve sent a letter or something” “john i love you but i still wouldn’t have risked sending a letter into the nine realms” “that’s fair” 

in conclusion space has all the gossip, and people know stuff is going down there but no one wants to interact with the h*ckhole that the nine realms are, so everyone does their best to just steer clear and keep their hoods on when in the neighborhood.

#anyways loki is a living legend out there in the nine realms #he's totally considered an advocate for change #i bet loki's one of the few people who actually personally travel out of the nine realms so you've got all these stories about him #and then you meet him and he's like ''hi im loki'' and you're like 'hey maaaybe i should bring up that he was stolen? nah not my business'' #anyways people are rooting for loki somewhere out there #this explains why no one else showed up to fight thanos off in infinity war despite the guy bringing huge ships across half the universe #some people showed up for endgame though because thanos was finally dead and &^$% no they're not letting ANOTHER thanos come in now #so anyways carol and loki are space famous #in fact most of midagard's heroes and asgard's royals are famous in space #i guess you could compare space to twitter? with the nine realms being america? #yes this entire post is based off the nine realms being the paris of space #or the america of sci fi movies if you will #I also want to apologise for any stereotyping/if the post is offensive in any way because I know nothing about America other than 'its bad' #the extent of my knowledge is literally memes and whatever chaos the whole political state of that place causes every few years #@shadowylemon i hope you're happy now

[whoovesnassistant]

A Hello, A Thank You, And A Brain Dump.

Dear PwPP team,

     I am a recent fan, and I am quite an odd one. I am a lover of everything Doctor Who, so much so I have memorized everything about the Doctor and his interactions during the 2005 revival. Yet since I have watched basically all the doctor who media I had access to (Excluding the most recent season because it does not interest me in the slightest, no offence to 13’s actor) I was without any Doctor Who content that actually interested me.

      Well until I made a discovery. You see, when I was moving to a new house, I found a figure I did not remember owning. It looked like a My Little Pony version of Doctor number 10. It fascinated me because It was officially licensed! So, I went down a rabbit hole, and found a whole new Doctor Who community, lost to YouTube, or even, Internet time entirely.

       That’s a little bit of a dramatization, but the point still stands that I discovered something that a lot of people forgot. The thing is, I know nothing about the My Little Pony area of fandoms, but I found this new world of Doctor Who so fascinating. Not only that, but it was a whole community!

       It was intoxicating! Doctors that I’d never dream of! And actually seeing the doctor see something he truly did not know! But most of all… people who understood what made Doctor Who, Doctor Who.

       I’m not a My Little Pony fan, not in the slightest, but as a Doctor who fan, your series is beyond stellar! I know when people understand Doctor Who or not, and you all did know on a level I don’t even thing some real Doctor Who show writers do! Also, your adaptation of the doctor feels so real, it is just stellar! 

       So, now I have to thank you, all of you. You gave me hope about the future of Doctor who will be bright and full of life! You let me see a new world of story telling. I never saw audio plays used like a legitimate series to such effectiveness and its truly brilliant and has inspired me to try to work on something similar, in due time.

        Yet, lastly, thank you so much for the pure, utter joy your work emanates. Yet again, I’m only a Doctor Who fan, but this  series has genuinely gave me more enjoyment that some Doctor Who episodes. It is just, raw, stupid, enjoyable, and oh so timey-wimy fun! Even with some real Doctor Who-esc  dark/sad moments that makes it feel like I’m listening to a real BBC and Hasbro collaboration!

       In fact, the work of your team gave me a Idea for a episode I just couldn’t keep in my head. I know you most likely have plans for all the future audio plays, but I  am a story teller through and through, so consider the last part of this letter like a pitch. Yet again, I’m not trying to be entitled and be like “Here’s my idea, Now make it!”, no I literally have no other living soul to share this idea with and its killing me.

        Now if I had to title it, it would be a two part play called “Turn Timer” and “Pestering Past”. “Turn Timer” would start with the Tardis crew just bumbling around in time and space. Maybe heading from or to an adventure. Yet when the Tardis enters modern times, it gets thrown off course due to a temporal blackhole (Or something?) making the Tardis materialize in front of a mansion that should not exist, that stands right dead center in the Evergreen Forest (if I got it wrong don’t kill me). The master of the house would be a unicorn named Turn Timer, and would be letting any travelers stay.

       Yet when the Doctor reluctantly stays in a room, they discover that some of the travelers have been seeing a hairless ape-like creature attacking residence, even Turn Timer who would have been attacked, saying that they just popped up a few months ago and he’s been trying to cover it up for business.

      Soon, after the Doctor and Tick Tock (Sorry but I have to say this here, that name did NOT age well) go off without Derpy who does not quite trust Turn Timer because…. well I made the name reverse Time Turner for a reason. Yet both the Doctor and Tick Tock does not notice the clearly weird name, so that means duel plot! Yay!

       Eventually the smart duo would figure out that these creatures are just human like Autons. Yet, since humans, or even humanoids, don’t exist in this universe, this is extremely odd (at least I think,  I still know jack about My Little Pony). Also Imagine this would lead into some funny jokes about how the Doctor needs to explain what the hell a human is, and I just imagine Tick Tock confused Autons being exactly like humans and not just modeled by them.

       Meanwhile, Derpy would be grilling Turn Timer (Also again, only a Doctor Who fan but I can just imagine the Donna theme here and it makes me smile) and I Imagine that 70% of this second plot would be jokes. Until before the Auton realization, where Turn Timer makes the mistake of saying Doctor instead of Time Turner (Which I assume he would sign in as) and would be forced to knock out Derpy. Now, after they figure out the Autons are Autons, and the jokes are done, I’m guessing that Turn Timer would project some sort of communication hologram or magic thingy to the Doctor so they can have an exchange that goes along like this.

   TuTi   “Hello Doctor! Sorry but i did not expect for your assistant to be able to see past my perception field.”

 Doc    “ What did you do to Derpy Turn Timer?”

     TiTo “and what perception field?”

   TuTi “ Oh don’t be daft, Doctor! I swear ever since you regenerated you have become so thick! you can’t even see what is so clearly obvious!  You only know one person who would know the correct configuration for a humanoid Auton, and be smart enough to do it! ”

    Doc, in his serious voice, “ Who are you?”

     TuTi, Outraged “Don’t act like you don’t know! We are best friends! The bestest of friends that have ever existed. Long before you started taking your pets onto your Tardis.  You know deep down, and you are running away from it! Like you ran away from your universe! Our Universe! I am tired of seeing your adventures in this world like you did not live in another.”

    TiTo “Who are you then?”

    Doc, still serious “Don’t humor him”

      TuTi “ Oh Doctor….Can’t even ask your own questions anymore can you? How far you have fallen from what you once were. You once could snap your fingers and make army’s turn and run away. Now you can’t even keep your pets (Companions) on a tight enough leash anymore.”

      Doc “ Wait, fingers? how did you-”

     TuTi “Oh now you are getting it. Finally, we are getting back the Doctor that counts. My Doctor, The Oncoming Storm! The Great Exterminator! The Destroyer of Skaro! And lastly, The Timelord Victorious!”

     Doc panicked and angered yelling (Probably) “Who are you?”

     TuTi “ Finally…. Well… I am the master of the house.. the Master! Of the house.”

   That is where “Turn Timer” would end and go into “Pestering Past”, which would pick up with the Master finishing his evil monolog and him and Derpy being in some sort of cave with the Masters Tardis being rigged as a paradox machine. Derpy would probably be in some sort of status field but still being able to interact with the Master.

     I am sure they would discuss why the Master was so obsessed with getting the Doctor to recognize him. The fact that in the Doctor Who universe,  The Master was so utterly empty without his “Best Friend” he could not stand to exist in a world without him, So he tracked the Doctor down, even through different universes just so he could have fun with his “Best Friend”.

     Also probably  telling Derpy more about the Doctor than he has. And most likely telling stories about when the Doctor was very angry, and why he is the last of the timelords.  I thought this would be a very interesting thing to pop up later on, a Derpy is wondering if the Doctor is worth being around if they could do such a thing then turn around and say its horrid.

    On the topside, I’m imagining the Doctor more scared and upset than seen in your audio plays. The fact that he came to a whole new universe, a place to make a new start and have less weight to carry, has been shattered by probably the only person that could have followed him. And to make it worse, it was someone who knows almost as much as the Doctor without his self control, and knowledge of his past life.

     When the Doctor and the New Master meet face to face, I imagine it would be a battle of chaotic personalities on each side. Also, In my characterization of the Master, I think he would be sarcastically energetic to counteract the Doctors normal energetic craziness. Also, for the hell of it, let’s make the Master obsessed with pegasi instead of unicorns because narrative symbolism.

      Lastly, we would learn that creatures that don’t belong in the world of My Little Pony (Cybermen and Terror are my best examples) where caused by the Masters Paradox machine. This gives a reason why they appeared and connects things in a neat little bow. Also gives a reason for Tick Tock to be mad too, due to the fact that the Master indirectly fueled the war he lost his family and time period for.

      And that’s all I have. I don’t know how it would end except I think the Master would snatch Derpys Tardis key to use it to make something to keep tabs on the Tardis crew.

     I’m sorry that half of this thank you and appreciation letter was more about my ideas than how I adore yours. Everyone on the PwPP crew to me is absolutely stellar! You all have made something truly amazing from a Doctor Who story telling standpoint. Lastly, please have fun making your audio plays or whatever you go on to do. It breaks my heart watching people create and have no fun in it.

With love and appreciation,

Raven.

We’re happy this show has brought you plenty of Doctor Who entertainment, even if you’re not an MLP fan. It’s always fun to learn about people who are generally a fan of one but not the other, who are still big fans of our series.

We aren’t really taking any ideas since we have a solid outline of what the rest of the episodes will be, and we can’t really reveal what characters might be appearing later. Your idea was a fun take on the Master though, perhaps consider writing a fanfic, as I’m sure people would enjoy it and we’ll be willing to post fanfics here.

#long post #submission

[fae-fucker]

Zenith: Chapter 76-79

Chapter 76

Andi has a nice little poetic nightmare. It’s irrelevant. The next morning has the girls preparing for the ball, complete with dresses and makeup.

Some things to note include Lira saying that in Adhiran religion (which is global, I guess), one has to mourn for three days before “letting” the souls of the dead pass on into ... everything.

Andi tries to say that it’ll take time to heal from it all, but Lira is having none of it.

“It will take time to move past what happened on Adhira,” Andi started, but Lira held up a hand.

“My three days of mourning have passed. Lon’s and my aunt’s, too. Now we, and the others who lost loved ones during the attack, must give the lost spirits to the stars, to the trees, to the wind.”

Which basically means that she’s done feeling bad about the unexpected and brutal attack on her home planet, so that’s convenient. Well, if one of our main characters doesn’t care about her people getting senselessly murdered, then why should we?

She also lets us know that her aunt has fixed up the Marauder and brought it here, because of course. Lira wants to arrange for Lon to be transferred to the Marauder, and though she has a logical reason for it (taking him home personally), it’s only a setup so we know why he’s on there at the end of the book when Andi’s bleeding out and needs a universal donor.

Spoilers, I guess.

Andi’s mother, Glorya, intercepts Andi as she tries to leave her crew to their makeover montages, just so we can move into a scene where her mom is brushing her hair and babbling on about gossip and vapid high society stuff.

But Andi, of course, gets lost in a flashback that’s so amateurishly written it’s honestly embarrassing and only highlights Shinsay’s helpless reliance on flashbacks as a storytelling device.

Observe:

Her words faded away as memories took their place. Andi lost herself to them.

The whole flashback is written in italics for some inexplicable reason, even though it would’ve been fine as just regular text since we’re clearly told what’s happening now and what’s a memory.

Also, there’s one bit where the memory “fast-forwards” to a different one. Shinsay, this isn’t a fucking movie. This isn’t a screenplay. What the fuck are you DOING.

The flashback and the mother’s inane babbling are all there to illustrate how vapid and brainless Glorya is and how she only ever cared about her status and not about her kid. Glorya pretends that everything is back to the way it was but Andi curses her out for abandoning her when she needed them most and how “the way it was” was actually always shit.

I mean it’s fine. It’s all right. I see what they’re going for, it’s melodramatic as all fuck but it works for what they’re trying to do? I can see this as being a realistic way for an emotionally neglectful family to look like. I wish it was more nuanced and wasn’t just shoe-horned in here (Glorya doesn’t show up before or after this bit, this is the only time she’s ever present or even mentioned in this book in any meaningful capacity) for the sake of making Andi’s friends look better and for her to not have anything that anchors her to Arcardius, but like, I won’t say this isn’t realistic.

And then Shinsay can’t stop themselves and it’s back to silly time:

“Really, Androma...” 

[...]

“That is not my name,” Andi whispered. She allowed the darkness to come up into her voice, the mask of shadow and steel to sweep across her face. “My name is the Bloody Baroness. And if you or Commander Racella ever so much as utter a single word toward me or my crew again, I will personally strip the skin from your body and wave it like a flag from my starship.”

Glorya let out a soft squeak. Andi snarled with all of her teeth.

Guys I can’t breathe this is too fucking funny. And not in a good “woo vindication!” sort of way, but in a “they really put this right after an emotional confrontation about parental emotional neglect/abuse huh?” way. They really thought this was ... badass? Revenge? Andi, sweetie, you’re, like, traumatized? Presumably? I can’t really tell. But maybe get some therapy?

Do Shinsay think this is somehow a win and that Andi’s threat means she’s fully released from the hurt and pain her parents have caused her through their neglect? It’s honestly written as if Andi just confronted her mother and her own hopes of coming back to her family in this one short scene, and then upon realizing her parents never loved her, she scares her mom a little and then is all smug and satisfied at the end.

That ain’t how it works, darlings.

Then the annoying Marketable Space Pet runs in and starts biting Glorya’s toes and she runs away shrieking like a defeated Disney villain.

Way to undercut your own drama, Shinsay.

The chapter ends with Andi thinking about how her crew is her True Family for the bajillionth time. Because we’re all idiots and Shinsay wants us to remember that.

Chapter 77

It’s the evening of the ball and Andi thinks about how she missed Bavista, which is apparently your generic coming-of-age ball held at Arcardius for every 16-year-old. I’m guessing it’s a yearly thing? The book never clarifies. Not sure why the fuck it’s here tbh.

Actually, it’s a pretty good demonstration of how the worldbuilding in this book is presented so here, have at thee:

She could still remember seeing the otherworldly dresses and suits float by her on the feeds as she watched the girls and boys glide into the A’Vianna House in the Glass Sector. They seemed light as air, full of pride, bursting at the seams with excitement. Once inside, they would be greeted by members of the Priest Guild, who would award each young person three items.

The first was a vial of water from the Northern Ocean, symbolizing strength. For growth, they accepted a single leaf from the oldest tree on Arcardius, known as The Mother, which was said to have been planted when the Ancients first arrived. Lastly, they were given a single floating pebble, no larger than a child’s fingernail, chiseled from the very gravarock where the Cortas estate was. It represented the wisdom of rising above.

Is this relevant to anything? Does this help you understand this world or its inhabitants? Does it tell you anything of the culture of Arcardius or its youth and what’s expected of them? No? It’s just a really generic list of things thrown together using Mystical Proper Nouns as glue? Weeell heeell.

Also what does “it represented the wisdom of rising above” mean? This is utterly generic and means fuck-all, that’s what.

Anyway, Andi’s admiring herself in the mirror. Her dress is very sexy, trust me, I can’t be bothered to include it so just imagine your favorite My Immortal outfit description. It does include sword holsters at the back, which are Andi’s favorite part, because she’s a strong independent woman who don’t need no man. She never actually uses them or brings the swords to the ball so ... Idk what the point of this was.

We also get some shit about how Andi actually LOVES dresses and being pretty but she never admitted it to anyone. But don’t you worry, this badass space criminal LOVES all things girly, because that’s feminism! Can someone check in on Shinsay? I’m not sure they’re getting enough air with their heads so far up Sarah J Maas’ asshole.

Admitting to herself that she looked pretty was something Andi kept private. She didn’t want to give her crew the satisfaction of knowing her true thoughts about fashion. How even though she was a fierce, hardened criminal, she could still appreciate the joy of a beautiful, impractical ball gown.

Huh. And here I thought they were your family. That’s weird that you’d keep this information from them, especially considering all of them seemed pretty excited to be prettied up in the last chapter. I guess they’d really just haaate the idea of sharing this joy with their captain, huh? Why aren’t you admitting this to them, Andi?

You’re saying shit about how “even though” you’re a hardened criminal, you can “still” appreciate beautiful gowns, like those two are somehow contradictory. Are you, mayhaps, ashamed of having this traditionally girly interest? Hmm! Interesting. Why could that be, I wonder? Why would having traditionally feminine interests or even caring about one’s appearance be seen as something inherently shameful or embarrassing, as inherently contradictory to being fierce and “hardened?”

This is all just so *clenches fist* feminist.

Forreal though, somehow Shinsay managed to take their entire made up GALAXY and make it subtly and not-so-subtly sexist. Good job, morons. Really girlbossed that one, huh?

The only bit I like about this whole mess is this:

The dressmaker had also accented her gown with a sparkling necklace full of jewels that Andi didn’t plan on giving back.

This is the one and only space pirate-y thing Andi does -- sorry, considers doing -- in the whole book and honestly could’ve been used to build her character more, but it’s just a one-off joke here. Wasted.

Valen comes to fetch her and we get some subtle foreshadowing.

“Valen the Resurrected.”

He stopped to look at her, brows raised. “What?”

She shrugged. “It’s what the press is calling you in all the feeds.” Valen let out a deep chuckle.

[...]

“Something tells me things are about to change for the better,” he said. “I’m ready to see it all happen.”

Andi wondered what he would do now that he was home with a whole planet at his disposal.

He deserved to have some fun.

Is it bad that I’m rooting for Valen to destroy everything? And this isn’t my villain-fucker coming out, I just want this poor bastard to absolutely annihilate Andi and her gang of acolytes.

Chapter 78

Andi and Valen arrive at the ball. It’s all very pretty and space-y and aesthetic. There’s a bunch of aliens everywhere. Andi sees a woman with funky eyes and assumes it’s a body mod, because I guess she knows the genetic characteristics of every species by heart and can tell when something is real or not.

An old classmate of theirs comes up to talk to Valen and congratulate him on being alive, then Andi reminds him of who she is just to be a smug asshole and the guy fucks off in a panic. She’s just so cool and badass, you guys.

Then it’s time for Valen and Andi to dance, and of course General Cortas looks like he’s about to lose his marbles because these darn kids! >:(

The chapter ends on Andi noticing Dex pouting in the distance.

“Relax,” Andi whispered. “Let’s give them something to talk about.”

She flashed him a wicked grin as the music began.

And as Valen spun her into the first move of the dance, Andi saw Dex standing on the fringes of the crowd, an expression of longing clear on his face.

Chapter 79

This chapter is exactly 298 words of Dex moping around about how he’s actually not over Andi at all when he thought he’d done such a good job of repressing his feelings, and how he should be the one dancing with Andi instead of Valen. If you’re surprised, you’re clinically dead.

#eff reads: zenith

[aclosetfan]

21

(ask game) thank you so much for playing the game!! you’re the best (per usual)!!

Helllll yeahhhhh 21 is the DUMBEST STUPIDEST fic I’ve ever made and I lovvveee it 💚💙❤️ it’s the “Vampire Zombie” one i mentioned in the original ask game post 😂😂

So glad someone picked the number!! Background to keep in mind: do yall remember when there was just a shit ton of Vampire fics on FFN?? Idk about ao3, but for newer fandom members this was TOTALLY a trend in the early 2000s on ffn, and I was like why the fuck are all of these here??? And like, why is it constantly a predator-prey relationship between the rrb and ppg??? So I was like wait…okay, but this could be funny and decided to write a story making fun of these super cringey stereotypes.

The story would be a multi fic and I have zero idea how to explain it concisely, so basically below the cut is just me laying it all out for you srsly I’m just bearing my soul to you:

For the girls’ birthday, the Professor tricks out the simulation room they train in to be a VR game room b/c the girls had talked about VR once (and only once), but the Professor thought it was cool and ran with it. The Girls can create a world of their choosing and explore. They admit the idea is pretty cool and eventually start arguing where they should “go” first. Blossom suggests a historical era like the Victorian era/Bubbles suggests something romantic, where she hints at vampires/Buttercup doesn't like any of those ideas, but the vampires reminded her of all of her zombie videogames she plays and she ends up suggesting something like that instead/ To prevent arguing the Professors says he’ll combine all three ideas into one!

[[how does this machine work??? IDK in the spirit of early 2000 fanfics, anything complicated and confusing is only vaguely explained—which has in story effects that drive Blossom INSANE! Idk how it would work technically, but my choices as the writer on what is/is not describe and purposeful grammar mistakes has story implications] [ill explain this more later]]

The Professor loads up the “game,” but something malfunctions. He tells the girls (Buttercup) not to touch anything. She doesn't listen and ends up plugging something into an entirely different device against Blossom & Bubbles protest. The device is that old “time machine” thing the Professor made in one of the OG cartoon (the one where the girls meet the Young Professor). It turns out that whatever she does (again still don't ask me how) fuses the basic concept of the two machines together and creates a device that transports them to a parallel universe that matches the specifications of the “game” they wanted to create.

[[Throughout the story, i want to include little video game gags, like bottomless bags for storage, or random bullets laying around, little things like that. (they've lost their powers/ but BC keeps finding all these random guns/knifes so they're good) I also give the girls the “ability” to read the dialogue I write. So, when I mess up a comma (i.e. Let’s eat Grandma! vs Let’s eat, Grandma!), Blossom will look at the “character” they’re talking to and be like, “WELL, which is IT!?”] [I know it’s stupid, but I think its so fun!]]

So, because of the video game “glitch,” the girls think for the longest time they’re actually IN a video game, but when they “go to sleep” thinking that’ll save the game and they can quit, per Professor’s instruction, they find out they can’t. Cue freak out. After the calm down, Buttercup’s like okay, listen we probably just have to beat the game! Too bad they don’t know what the game’s objective is exactly. They just know they’re dressed in Victorian Era clothes and their “Professor” is the town’s doctor? Their mother died (tragically). It’s all a bit dramatic. They start searching for clues. Eventually, they find out that the Town has a zombie problem (THANKS BUTTERCUP!), and Blossom figures if they can cure that, they beat the game. Unbeknownst to them, they are actually stuck in a stupid vampire love plot there just happens to be zombies. [Like, you can’t have one supernatural creature without another and I wasn’t going to write about werewolves.] No one in town seems to care about the undead problem. Buttercup keeps “leveling up,” Blossom’s on the verge of a breakdown, and then, finally, Bubbles meets Boomer.

Boomer swears up and down Bubbles is his fated mate. Bubbles—who is definitely interested—is like ooo so you’re a vampire, cutie? He’s broody about it. She’s like so do you sparkle in the sun?? (I absolutely love sparkles, she says). He’s like, wut?? She’s like, do you sparkle???? He’s like, uh no, the sun kind of burns my energy tho. She’s like, oh. Okay. I see. You don’t sparkle. Sooo, well, haha, okay you seem like a really really sweet guy with the whole eternal devotion thing, but I don’t think this is really going to work out between us. He’s again like WUT. Boomer gets broken up with because he doesn’t sparkle.

Vampire Butch is flat out scared of Buttercup. Like he fully admits he’s sucked infants dry of their blood; he’s why people should fear the night; he’s not a “good guy”; but BC is a force to be reckoned with. In the Victorian era, I’m guessing they had little to no experience with the modern day “bro” and BC is full on bro. This doesn’t mesh well with Butch’s broody, dark, vampire thing he’s got going on. She’s too vulgar for a Victorian lady, she wears things called “Chacos,” and she has a gun??? Multiple guns. And He. Has. No. Fucking. Idea. What. She. Is. Saying!! No! He will not “dab her up!” No, he “doesn’t lift.” This wasn’t his mysterious, tough (but still a damsel, mind you) mate he met one fateful evening, this was some heathen creature (and this is coming from a vampire), so please, please, please, can he kill her?????  

Blossom’s like I don’t like to be touched and I’m a lesbian, and Brick’s like one) I think I respect you more than the old Blossom; two) the zombies just appeared, stop asking; three) you need to now help us find our mates before their eighteenth birthday or we’re all screwed.

Ready to kick ass and fight sexist stereotypes with their new “bros,” the girls set out with their new objective, hoping beyond hope that once they find the missing girls they’ll be able to go home. The girls find out that their parallel alternatives went disappearing a few days ago, so their “return” had been a relief to the whole town. [[Blossom’s like why did no one question our clothing?!?! Why are there zombies?!?!]] ugh and then, I don’t know what happens :( really. I never really ended it. They girls just constantly shit on the boys being broody vampires and kick zombie ass, like idk what else a gal could want out of a story. I feel like they end up finding the other girls. And I think that I was going to bring HIM into the mix, but it’s still just regular HIM. It turns out that HIM likes jumping dimensions to make the Girls life hell in every lifetime and has cursed the three girls living in the vampire dimension. (“I’ve got a life outside of just you, ya know.” HIM huffed, “What are you three doing here?”) It also turns out that out of all the dimensions, our Girls as Superheroes are the best at beating HIM and saving the day, so he’s extra pissy that they’re ruining his carefully crafted “historical romance vampire soap opera.” Blossom loses her shit because the historical inaccuracies are too high to now ignore, Bubbles is pissed because HIM didn’t make good enough vampires, and Buttercup’s like honestly, not a bad game, ngl. Everyone ignores her.

[[They beat HIM, free the other girls, return home, and BC obsesses over their stats sheets. Back in Vampire land, the boys are like wait a second the relationships we are now stuck in suck.] [The zombies are still not explained]]

#21 #is such a good number #my outlines #my writing #outline ask game #ppg fic outline #this is so stupid but come on I miss early 2000 fanfics #also like i said I don't know how i would even write the gaming glitches #but it would be really fun to figure out #maybe i WILL write this one someday just for the fun of it!! #lemme kno what you think #this is my last one tonight but plz keep on asking lol

[dannyboyzone]

samuel one shot?🥺

Note; This is angst with a happy end, it doesn't have a name, so if you would like to name it, you are free to do so. Since the topic is not specified, I wrote whatever I felt like writing. Y/n will have they/them pronouns so everyone feels comfortable. If you don't, just change it in your head.

TW - Depression, mentions of suicide.

Today has more than 7 billion stories. So many people are experiencing it differently, yet so similarly.

Someone died today, and another person was born. Maybe they will change the world, or destroy it.

A student is celebrating passing his exams, while an adult across the world is crying in their dark room thinking about that they never had the chance to tell their parents that 'hey, I am trans, please accept me.'

Everyone has their own struggles, so why?

Why is Y/n pitying themselves so much? They keep asking themselves that.

They are so stuck up on their own self, just hurting about minor things. Like small sentences, that their old neighbour probably already forgot about. Things their family already forgot about.

Yet they keep asking themselves; Why do they care so much?

Even now, when they are crying their eyes out. Their knees are pulled up to their chest, sitting on the edge of the rooftop. They can't bring themselves to jump off, even though they crave death so much.

Who are they to be in pain so much when others have to go through war, confrontation, missing someone they can never get back?

" AAAAAAAAAA "

Y/n yelled out to the thin air, even though they were sure even people from a few miles away could hear. It didn't really matter though, holding it back was harder than caring for other's around right now.

That what caused them to be a mess anyway, caring for others that much. Running a hand through their hair, they started to rip it and shake their head while continuing to cry.

How pathetic, Y/N thought to themselves, leaving no other option than to repeatedly slap their own cheek.

When no one in this world cares for you, it's hard to care for yourself.

" Hey, are you done putting on a show there? " they were interrupted by a deep, husky voice.

Y/n sniffed and turned around a bit. Hanging one of their legs freely off the rooftop, while resting the other on their lap.

They raised their brow at the sight of the unknown man coming closer to them.

Man.. ? The closer he got, the more obvious it was that he must be a teenager, just really buff.

He still had a bit of baby fat on his cheeks, which was quite cute, as Y/n would think.

It's quite funny though.

The neighbourhood they are in is pretty old, out dated and full of graffiti everywhere. Yet this stranger is wearing such an expensive suit, that doesn't even have a single spot of dust on it.

So, what is he doing here?

Y/n sniffed, while rubbing the tears with their palm away.

" Who are you? "

The boy leaned on the barrier of the rooftop which Y/n was sitting on top of. There were only a few inches between them.

The boy took a glance at the other's eyes, swollen and red from crying. Their eyelashes were stuck together at some parts at the end, it's such a pity.

It would be a lie if he said he didn't check the person's body language out, he didn't care much, but he noticed that they were holding onto the barrier tightly.

He then took out a cigarette from his pocket, placing it in his between his lips.

" Don't you have better problems than that? " , said he, as the cigarette got put on fire.

Y/n ran a tongue through the inside of their cheek, wanting to move closer. They didn't though, as they decided that's not worth it.

They were quite raged, yet calm at the same time.

For the best guess, they wanted to be though. It was quite embarrassing to let a stranger watch your very own melt down, let alone not even be aware of it.

" Well, I have the right to know! After all, you saw more of me than what I am comfortable with! "

" .. It's Samuel. "

" Well Samuel, will you leave? I am trying to do something here! "

Samuel couldn't help but... laugh.

Do something my ass, he thought.

He took a smoke from his cigarette, and looked up at the sky. It was a really sunny sunday, perfect to just sit back and enjoy life. Sadly, not everyone could.

" Go ahead then, jump. "

Y/n blinked, what the fuck?

" Excuse me, how fucking insensitive are you? "

Samuel just shrugged a shoulder, in a nonchalant way. " So what? "

He put his cigarette out, turning his head towards Y/n.

That moment, their face was met with smoke. They couldn't help but cough, it felt so terrible.

This guy, is a complete fucking asshole. How can a person be so.. heartless? It's like there is no soul in their eyes. Truly, no one cares.

Y/n wanted to slap him, but as soon as they raised their hand, their wrist was squeezed. Samuel held their hand in the air, making it feel stuck. Their eyes met, and Y/n got shivers down their spine.

He has to let go, now.

" Someone who wants to die doesn't mind smoke in their face. They will be dead anyway, won't they? "

Y/n was in disbelief, but they could barely hear.

They were so afraid of falling off, they couldn't help but shake.

The ground was so far away, it could kill anyone. If anything were to fall, it would end the lives of the people walking by.

Samuel walked a few steps closer, watching as Y/n's eyes got filled with tears and fear yet again.

" ... You are scared of falling of, now that you don't have anything to hold onto. "

Y/n's head was filled with different kind of thoughts, but what scared them above above anything else, that this guy is right.

There is something in him, that Y/n isn't quite aware of, but finds comfort in. Admitting it is not an option, for now, they kept moving, as much as they could.

" Let go of me! "

With that, their wrist was free again. It had quite a big red mark over it, which didn't matter all that much. It would fade by night anyway.

Y/n immediately faced the door to the stairs, which was quite far away. They backed up, their breath becoming quicker and quicker. Staring down at the people underneath them.

They couldn't move backwards for long, because Samuel stood their, pressing the front of their body to Y/n's back. At least they didn't fall backwards to the cement floor of the rooftop.

" Jump, if you wish so that bad. Don't let me stop you. "

He rested their chin on the top of their head, and slid his hands in the pockets of his pants.

" I don't get you, how am I different? The elderly couple you would fall on, the flower shop owner, the boy drawing graffiti on the walls and that little girl in the cherry socks who had met her dad for the first time today.. they would all see you fall. So why does it matter if I see you?... Actually, don't answer me. It's because you wouldn't have to face them, but would have to remember me. They would all remember you for a life though. "

Y/n shut their eyes tight.

Who the fuck does he think he is?

They were filled with hatred and frustration, moving their fingers on the barrier that they held so tightly onto. Y/n wanted to escape, but quite frankly, they didn't know how to react.

Because the shittiest part of it all? No matter how rough it sounds, he is right. No one likes confrontation, but it doesn't mean it's always a lie.

Jumping off would be no use to anyone here. Maybe sometimes, all of us just want someone to hear the desperate yell of our actions. To pull us back in. The universe may not always serve it as you would expect it though.

Y/n let out a sigh, more so to even their breath, and carry their thoughts in another direction.

" So, what do you want from me? "

" I don't know if you know, but you talk while thinking. Why do you care so much about others? They don't want to be pitied, and some people that are better off from you, have these exact same thoughts and might think of you. But they don't help, like you don't help their situation either. So why not help yourself? "

Huh.. He must break hearts often.

The voice belonging to the cold hard truth was like a river.

It was ice cold, causing either tragedies or beautiful memories.

He stepped back, fixing his messy hair. That was the first time Y/n noticed that his knuckles had bruises on them.

That left a lot of questions, is he a gangster? But he is too clean for that. Maybe a CEO? But what would he do there then?

Y/n could have paced out for a bit, because the next thing they have noticed is Samuel walking down the stairs, back facing them, holding his hand up as a sorry excuse of a wave.

" When you are able to admit that you want a new life instead of death, you can come and I will show you a whole new world. "

Y/n looked down on their hand, taking a glance at a tiny old toy. It was simply a tiny plastic chicken, from a happy meal. It sounds ridiculous, but it was from their father, who seems to spend less and less time with them until the point they became strangers.

They always carried it around, even if it only had a meaning to them and no one else in the world.

Y/n wiped their tear, pulling their leg to the other side of the rooftop, jumping onto it.

" You sure do talk a lot compared to other assholes. " they laughed.

Unknown to what would happen next, they followed Samuel. What's the worst that could happen? At least someone wanted them by his side.

They held onto his suit, just like a lost child would.

" So, are you a gangster Mr Know It All? "

" You will find out. "

END

Outro;

Yeah, this is like.. shitty and makes zero sense our of context. But how would you react to that level of confrontation? I sure as hell don't know.

Also, Sammy went there bc was stressed bc he HAS to find new members for his part of workers.. well guess what happened next 👀

Sorry anon, I feel like this wasn't quite what you wanted, if you want to look at it as romance, if not then do not. I just couldn't imagine Samuel being madly in love, so the machine threw out this I guess. Next time please specify if there is anything you want!

#i will rewrite this in a few months once my abilities become better #this was yikes #eh #i dont know where i wanted to go with thi #lookism #외모지상주의 #samuel #seungeun

[weekendwarriorblog]

THE WEEKEND WARRIOR 6/25/21: F9, WEREWOLVES WITHIN, THE ICE ROAD, FALSE POSITIVE, I CARRY YOU WITH ME and More!

Well, June is quickly coming to an end, but that means it’s officially summer. No, for real this time. Summer started June 21, and that means we have the latest attempt to revive the box office, and really, if this doesn’t do it, then we’re sunk. Doomed. It’s over, and Jeff Bock, the Streamer Relations guy, has won. We’re in the endgame now. Go to the movies this weekend, and don’t let Jeff Bock win!

Before we get to the theatrical releases, the 20th Tribeca [formerly Film] Festival ended over the weekend, and it certainly “looked different” as we were reminded every time some local celebrity introduced a movie on the festival’s virtual platform. As far as the movies I saw, a few are mentioned below but generally, the documentaries once again outplayed any of the narrative features, which was pretty much the same with other festivals this year. Besides the Rita Moreno doc that I reviewed last week, I quite enjoyed A-Ha the Movie, a documentary that covers the famous ‘80s “one hit wonders” travails since their first hit album and the ubiquitous “Take on Me.” It’s a great doc that really shows what can happen when you try to keep the band together even when you stop travelling or even talking to each other. Also Bitchin’: The Sound and Fury of Rick James was another great musical doc about a funk/soul singer who I really never knew very much about, so it was quite educational. I also liked 7 Days quite a bit, and that was one of the better narrative films at the fest.

It felt like there were two very different Tribecas. There was one for the elitist journalists who were allowed to attend all the in-person screenings and parties, and there was the one for the rest of us -- where we were just sitting at home watching stuff on our TV sets, just like we did with Sundance and SXSW. And make no mistake, as someone who has been covering Tribeca since Year Two (where I *bought* all my tickets), it definitely felt like I was being pushed aside by the current Tribeca regime who just wants to be seen as something exclusive just for certain people, including as a woke festival catering to the underrepresented (but not really… if that was the case, they would have given free tickets out to people who live in the areas of the city where they set-up their pop-up screenings). I only know a few locals who received the better in-person badge -- pretty much the entire staff at IndieWire, for instance -- but as someone who has covered the festival for years and received a Hudson Pass for the effort, it definitely felt like I don’t really need to cover Tribeca anymore. It’s just not the elite festival it thinks it is, and as far as I’m concerned, it will never be Cannes, it will never be Sundance, and it will never even be SXSW. It continues to be a festival with zero identity that caters to the rich, white New Yorkers that already get special treatment wherever they go. I’m not even sure how much of it even takes place in Tribeca anymore, since the premier location for movie premieres seemed to be at Hudson Yards, which is about four miles North of “Ground Zero,” the area affected by 9/11 that precipitated the need for something like the Tribeca Festival in the first place. I feel that this year’s festival was an even bigger disappointment than last year’s virtual only, but that’s because they’ve finally just given up on the press they don’t feel are worthy of covering them. So yeah, not for me.

It’s hard to believe that F9 (Universal Pictures), the ninth movie in the “Fast Saga.” is finally being released in North America, since I felt like I reviewed it five years ago. Actually, it was only a month ago, but it just seems like forever since I’ve been so busy this month.

In case you have no idea what to expect and wanna know: Vin Diesel is back as Dominic Torreto, and this time we meet another member of his real family, brother Jakob (John Cena), who is now working with the criminal spy organization Cypher. Most of the gang are back, except for Dwayne Johnson’s Agent Hobbs and Jason Statham’s Deckard Shaw, who you may remember went off to make Hobbs and Shaw a few years back. In fact, that last movie was the last movie in the franchise, which was supposed to act as a tie-over between 2017’s Fate of the Furious and F9, which was originally supposed to come out in 2020. Got all that?

Hobbs and Shaw opened with around $60 million in early August, which is generally one of the few weekends in the late summer where a movie could still open big. That was the lowest opening for the franchise in over ten years, because ever since 2009’s Fast & Furious, every single movie has opened over $70 million and closer to $100 million or more. 2013’s Fast and Furious 6 and 2017’s The Fate of the Furious didn’t quite hit a $100 million opening, but still, it’s a pretty good barometer of how big the franchise was in the before-times. James Wan’s Furious 7 still sports the biggest opening with $147 million in early April 2015, hampered by the year-long delay after one of the film’s stars, Paul Walker, died in a car crash a year earlier. Walker’s death may have helped drive audiences to the movie with the same morbid curiosity way as Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight back in 2008. (Furious 7 grossed $353 million domestically, which is also a high watermark for the franchise domestically.)

The Fate of the Furious grossed slightly less than the previous two installments and then Hobbs and Shaw ended up with $173 million, which is nothing to sneeze at… unless your movie ended up costing $200 million, which that one did. We’re talking about very expensive movies here, and one presumes F9 is up there in that $200 million range, but it bodes a couple questions. Was the success of the franchise since Fast 5 mainly due to “franchise Viagra” Dwayne Johnson and was that helped by the addition of Statham? With the two of them gone, does that take away from the movie’s potential or do people like Diesel, Tyrese Gibson’s Roman, Ludacris and the other long-timers like Michelle Rodriguez and Jordana Brewster enough to make this an opening weekend must-see?

There might some questions whether theaters in bigger cities like New York and L.A., where F9 would generally do big business, will be as full as normal -- even with full capacity finally being allowed. The other question is whether Universal may have released this movie overseas too far in advance of the States. Think about it. When you start to think about movie piracy and where a lot of that comes from, it goes right to China, and a movie like this at a time like this when people are cautious about running to theaters, well if you walk down the street and someone is selling a copy for 5 bucks, why wouldn’t you buy it? That’s the reason why studios release movies day and date across the globe, or at least they try to. Piracy used to be a big thing hurting the movie business, but that seems to have been forgotten.

Reviews for the movie have been mixed -- I already reviewed the movie over at Below the Line -- but about the same as the last two installments, so those won’t necessarily stop people from going to the movies, since this is a classic summer popcorn movie where it feels like everyone should go see it opening week. Like in the past, F9 will open Thursday night for previews, but it seems to getting more Thursday night previews than normal -- I’ve seen five to six screenings in many locations -- and that might because Universal realizes how important this release is and how many people will be looking to see if it can revive theatrical.

I think I’m going to say that F9 will make around $72 to 74 million this weekend, which takes it back to Fast & Furious days, but I do think audiences will like the movie more than critics, and because of that, the decision to make two more movies will probably be warranted.

I was very excited to see Josh Ruben directing another movie so soon after last year’s Scare Me -- a terrific horror-comedy you can watch on Shudder -- and his latest film, WEREWOLVES WITHIN (IFC Films), based on the Ubisoft game, is just as funny AND scary. It stars Sam Richardson as Finn Wheeler, the new park ranger arriving in the small and remote town of Beaversfield, which seems to have just as much politics and backbiting as the biggest of the cities. He quickly becomes friends with the bubbly postwoman, Cecily (Milana Vayntrub), as she introduces him to the quirky townsfolk… oh, yeah, and there is something brutally mauling them to death.

The premise for Werewolves Within seems fairly simple, and maybe that’s because it is based on a VR game where I assume you have to figure out who is the vampire, so that’s pretty much what’s going on as Finn, Cecily and seemingly the entire town wind up locking themselves up in the Beaversfield Inn trying to figure out who is killing the others. Thankfully, there are more layers built into the ongoing relationships between the townsfolk.

Ruben’s got a lot of things going for his second feature film, the first thing being a super-funny script by Mishna Wolff, but also the amazing cast he put together that not includes Richardson and Vayntrub with some brilliant chemistry but also the likes of Michaela Watkins and Michael Chernus, who can never do wrong in my book. Those two elements alone would make Werewolves Within worthwhile, but Ruben ably takes on the challenges of a much bigger cast than his previous movie and finds a way to keep the viewer constantly on edge and interested in what will happen next, especially to some of the characters who are not as jovial or friendly as Richardson’s Finn.

But what works best about the movie is that there are plenty of unexpected twists, maybe some more obvious than others, and the fact you never really know who might die next or house keeps the movie quite entertaining. It also shows off Ruben’s great skills at combining horror and humor, something that’s very difficult for even the best directors, but when you’ve got it -- as Ruben proved so perfectly with Scare Me -- then you might as well use it to its fullest.

It’s hard to describe how well the humor works without using jokes ala something like Shaun of the Dead, but it’s more of a light-hearted charm that one wouldn’t expect to go so well with the dire situation in which the characters find themselves. It doesn’t hurt that many of the characters are so unlikable that getting their comeuppance adds to that humor. If you’re expecting a lot of werewolf transformations or even werewolves plural, you might be slightly disappointed, but it’s nice that a movie can be its own thing without trying to copy other films in the horror subgenre.

Either way, Ruben is 2 for 2 with his second attempt at comedy-horror, which ventures just far enough away from Scare Me to make me think that he’ll continue to be a great voice in the much-maligned and hard-to-muster horror subgenre.

Werewolves Within just debuted at the Tribeca Festival, and it will be released in theaters this Friday and then be On Demand and Digital starting July 2. I’ll also have an interview with Josh Ruben over at Below the Line a little later today, too, so check that out!

Not getting a theatrical release in the United States unfortunately is Jonathan Hensleigh’s THE ICE ROAD (Netflix), starring Liam Neeson as a truck driver in Winnipeg, whose special skill is driving that truck across the frozen lake up north. When a diamond mine collapses in the very north side of Canada, it’s up to him and a crew of other ice truckers to drive their big rigs across the frozen lake to save the men trapped in the mine.

I quite liked this movie that definitely marks a return of Hensleigh to some of those great action movies he wrote in the ‘90s, like Die Hard with a Vengeance, but this is also a significantly better action movie than some of the ones he’s directed, like the 2004 The Punisher. The sad fact is that I’ve been pretty disappointed with Neeson’s recent film choices, particularly in the last year when disappointments like The Honest Thief and The Marksman managed to get theatrical releases even during the pandemic. The Ice Road is a much better movie, maybe because Hensleigh wrote and directed it himself, but also he had much better source material in the docuseries, Ice Road Truckers, and he clearly did his research into these 18-wheelers on these dangerous trips across iced-over lake that could crack at any time. Hensleigh uses this idea well to tell a story where much of the movie takes place on that dangerous ice.

There are elements to the story that might not work quite as well, such as the decision to have Neeson’s brother Gurty (Marcus Thomas) be suffering from such horrible PTSD that it makes him almost a bigger hindrance than a help on the trip. On the other hand, the movie does have the always great Laurence Fishburne in a smaller role and the real breakout has to be Amber Midthunder, the bad-ass Indigenous Tantoo who proves that she can drive as well as the guys. I also found that Hensleigh’s use of the corporation as the ultimate antagonist in sending these truckers to their potential deaths more for the money than to actually save lives works well to add to what would have been a simple rescue mission.

The Ice Road is a pretty solid (ugh, bad pun) action-thriller that has some elements of other similar movies but then really throws the viewer for a loop with the amazing on-ice truck driving stunt work, that keeps one invested while really putting it ahead of some of Neeson’s other recent action fare.

You can read my interview with Hensleigh over at Below the Line.

Next up are two very different movies that played at the 20th Tribeca Festival over the past week

Heidi Ewing’s I CARRY YOU WITH ME (Sony Pictures Classics) finally gets a theatrical release after getting its Oscar qualifying run way back in December and premiering at the Sundance Film Festival in January 2020! Based on the true story of Mexican immigrant lovers Ivan and Gerardo, who travel from Mexico to New York City and are reunited after decades apart and many struggles to rekindle their romance.

This is an interesting movie for Ewing, best known for her award-winning docs like Jesus Camp, because it’s not an easy story to tell or movie to make, covering a span of decades, and using flashbacks to tell the individual stories of how these two men discovered their homosexuality while surrounded by a toxic culture who hates them for loving each other. We meet Iván as he’s cooking in a Mexican restaurant in New York before we flashback to Pablo, Mexico in 1994 when he’s younger (and played by Armando Espitia), married with a young son, but when he meets Gerardo (Christian Vázquez) at a gay club and the two click, he’s put in a place where he has to keep his sexuality hidden if he doesn’t want to lose his son. As the romance blossoms, Ivan realizes that he needs to go to America if he really wants his culinary skills (he even went to school) to be used, because in Pablo, he’s relegated to being a dishwasher.

Ivan decides to make the dangerous trek across the border with his best friend Sandra (Michelle Rodríguez -- not the one in F9) with the promise to return to Gerardo. Things don’t necessarily go as planned but decades later they’re reunited, and struggle to make it in New York City as restaraunteurs. As you watch their story unfold, you can fully understand why Ewing might want to tell this story, co-writing the script with Alan Page Arriaga, but there are still elements of documentary in this narrative beautifully shot by Cinematographer Juan Pablo Ramírez AMC.

Unfortunately, those elements of documentary are what really confused me, because there are moments in the present day when the real Ivan and Gerardo are playing themselves, but then there are times when the two main actors are made up to look older, and I couldn’t really figure out what was happening at times, maybe due to some of the more dream-like nature of the storytelling.

Even so, Ewing has created a terrific character piece and quite a warm and wondrous love story, even if it’s plagued by violence and discrimination due to their roots and their homosexuality. I couldn’t help but think that I might have liked Moonlight more if it wasn’t told in such a linear fashion, separated into three chapters. By using the flashbacks to keep the viewer fully focused on what’s happening, Ewing creates something more on par with Cuaron’s Y Tu Mama Tambien that feels just as authentic as if Ewing were a gay Mexican herself.

Probably the weakest part is the second act where we watch Ivan trying to get to America, because that’s been done in so many other movies, including Cary Joji Fukunaga’s earlier film, Sin Nombre, and that feels a little less unique or special compared to the rest of the duo’s story.

It’s a shame that I Carry You With Me wasn’t able to build any awards traction, partially due to Covid and the long gap between festival appearances. Either way, it proves that Ewing is a lot more than a “mere” documentary filmmaker, able to mix those skills with that of a sharp narrative filmmaker with a keen eye for storytelling. This is a particularly strong character piece and a beautiful love story based on two real men, unlike anything I’ve seen in recent memory.

Honestly, I’ve given up on figuring what Sony Classics is doing in terms of their theatrical releases. I guess this could be opening in New York and Los Angeles or in more cities. I have no idea, because no one tells me anything. But I also wanted to share the review by my friend J. Don Birnam that he wrote out of the New York Film Festival last year. He has reasons to be able to connect with this material much more than I can, which is probably why his review is so damn good: http://splashreport.com/nyff-film-review-i-carry-you-with-me-an-inspiring-story-of-triumph-by-rarely-depicted-peoples/

Not quite as good is John Lee’s horror-thriller FALSE POSITIVE (Hulu/A24), starring Ilana Glazer from Broad City, who also cowrote the screenplay with Lee. It’s a very different non-comedic role for Glazer in which she plays Lucy, a pregnant woman, who finds her pregnancy turned into a nightmare, as she puts herself in the hands of the nefarious ob/gyn Dr. John Hindle, played by the great Pierce Brosnan, who happened to be her husband’s (Justin Theroux) medical teacher.

Man, did I want to like this psychological thriller, because I think Glazer is just the best in Broad Street, and the fact that she co-wrote this and is trying to do something unexpected out of the ordinary just thrills me to the end. That being said, her character Lucy seems to be a rather standard powerful NYC woman with a good job where she’s better than the rest, who ends up going through a torturous experience as an expectant mother who isn’t able to trust her own doctor. Part of the conflict comes when Julie is told that she is having more than one baby, but she has to choose between twin boys or a single girl, because she’s told that she won’t be able to take all three of them to term.

It’s an okay premise dealing with the many worries that women must have while pregnant, and things get crazier and crazier as Julia begins seeing everything, and while Glazer isn’t bad while playing a straight-up no-humor dramatic role, it’s hard not to see her more as a Debra Messing type when she has her hair straightened out to look different.

The horror elements are decent whether it’s the body horror idea of having a number of dead baby fetuses inside you, which is pretty creepy, and Lee doesn’t do a bad job with the trippier parts of the movie, though I feel like it overuses and leans on the use of blood to step up the horror, and it doesn’t work that well. There are also aspects to the story that feel somewhat predictable only because there are only a few way things can go the way things are set-up.

It’s obvious that Glazer and Lee wanted to make social commentary on the male-dominated field of childbirth with some of the weirder aspects of the movie, like the Stepford Nurses that constantly surround Brosnan’s Dr. Hindle. Having them there smiling eerily always boosts Lucy’s suspicion that her husband might be cheating with one or both of them. Still, there are too many aspects of False Positive (including the fact it was produced by A24) that makes one think that this is another attempt at the kind of “elevated humor” that’s been done so much better by the likes of Ari Aster and Robert Eggers.

Ultimately, False Positive is okay, it certainly tries hard, it’s maybe not quite as good as I hoped or expected of what might have been a perfectly fine vehicle for Glazer. I certainly had high hopes for what she might do with a pregnancy thriller, that this movie just never quite delivers.

False Positive debuts on Hulu this Friday.

From Sweden comes the horror film THE EVIL NEXT DOOR (Magnet) from filmmakers Oskar Mellender and Tord Danielsson, which follows a new stepmom Shirin (Dilan Gwyn), who has moved into a duplex with her partner Fredrik and his young son, Lucas (Eddie Eriksson Dominguez), but they soon learn that strange things start happening that seem to be coming from the abandoned house next door.

I’m always open to see what’s coming from the Scandinavian countries, because there’s been a lot of particularly good genre over the years -- Let the Right One In, for instance -- but I got the impression right away that originality was not going to be in the cards for this one, which immediately has the small boy having an imaginary friend, who you know is either an evil spirit or one of the spirit’s previous victims. Sadly, that’s the case here, and without the originality of some of the original horror films it's emulating, The Evil Next Door just seems like an international copycat.

If you’re even a modicum fan of modern horror, you’re likely to have seen many better versions of this movie, which is just kind of bland overall, but constantly resorts to scenes of a woman walking through the house acting scared and the cheap scares that inevitably come. This one even uses the eerie “next day” chapters that have been used in so many other horror movies, including the Paranormal Activity movies.

Mellender and Danielsson certainly come off as capable filmmakers, and they could do far worse than the incredibly dramatic and emotional performance by Gwyn -- the movie does get slightly better as it goes along -- but the feeling that you’ve seen it all before and know what to expect completely detracts from appreciating any of the finer aspects. For instance, there’s some decent creature design work but even that sometimes goes for the expected in terms of the spirit’s look. The filmmaker’s skills are also evident from the use of music and sound design, which is crucial to a movie like this working in any fashion, but it’s hard to fully appreciate it when you feel you know where things are going.

The Evil Next Door just feels like a movie made by fans of the far superior “Conjuring” movies who managed to cop some of the tricks to scare the viewer, but without fully understanding why those movies work due to original characters and storytelling ideas. These are decent filmmakers, but I’d really like to see them do something more unique or original.

If you live in NYC and feel like going up to Harlem, Questlove’s documentary, Summer of Soul, is opening a week early, this Friday at the AMC Magic Johnson in Harlem, New York, and it’s also opening at El Capitan in Los Angeles. It will open in theaters elsewhere and on Hulu NEXT Friday, July 2, so I’ll write more about it in next week’s column.

Debuting on Apple TV+ Friday is Drew Zanthopoulos’ documentary FATHOM (Apple TV+), which follows scientists Dr. Ellen Garland and Dr. Michelle Fournet as they study the whale songs of the humpback whale and try to figure out ways to communicate with them and understand whale culture. Oddly, this is one of quite a few whale documentaries coming out over the next few weeks.

Another movie that I just don’t have time to review just now is Eytan Rockaway’s gangster thriller, LANSKY (Vertical), which stars Harvey Keitel, Sam Worthington, John Magaro, AnnaSophia Robb and Minka Kelly. Worthington is down-and-out writer David Stone, who gets a call from the legendary gangster Meyer Lansky (played by Keitel), who has been of the grid for decades but worth a fortune. Stone meets with Lansky as the FBI closes in on the Godfather of organized crime, and he’s told about Lansky’s time with Murder Inc. and the National Crime Syndicate.

Other movies out this week, include:

SILENT NIGHT (Samuel Goldwyn)

SISTERS ON TRACK (Netflix)

TOO LATE (Gravitas Ventures)

Next week is the 4th of July (on Sunday), and we’re getting FOREVER PURGE (Universal) and THE BOSS BABY 2: FAMILY BUSINESS (also Universal!!?!?)... I guess someone really wants to dominate the box office again, huh?

#The Weekend Warrior #F9 #Werewolves Within #False Positive #I Carry You With Me #The Ice Road #Movies #Reviews #Streaming

[blackypanther9]

Part 34 - The Infinity Stones

No one's POV...

They all stared at you, ready to listen and get teached. You sighed and called a window open. You opened a file with the name Infinity Stones. It opened 7 windows. 6 of them had one colored gem and the last window had a golden Gauntlet showing. You started after Laufey sat down on a chair to listen too.

"Interrupt me, if I forget something, Laufey."

He nodded. You took a deep breath.

"There exist 6 different, very powerful gems. They are called the Infinity Stones. Every gem has different powers and are very dangerous in their own way. The purple one is the Power Stone. Laufey, could you please show it, because Fandral looks on the complete false one.", I said.

He nodded, stood up and put his finger on the purple gem, which was at the very left.

He sat back again.

"Thank you Laufey."

"What can the Power Stone ?", Loki asked.

"The Power Stone carries enough power to wipe out a whole planet and has to be kept in an special container, because it is very powerful. If you aren't strong/ worthy enough, you explode into pieces. So...The carriers can use the gem to mow down entire civilizations like wheat in a field. Once, for a moment, a group was able to share the energy amongst themselves, but even they were quickly destroyed by it. And only beings of extraordinary strength can control it. A God or Jotun isn't enough there. So don't think of funny things with it."

Laufey nodded.

"She is right. Don't ever think that this thing is easy to control."

"Anyway ! The green gem is called the Time Stone." 

(All of these pictures Photograph by Cole Iba Except the Powerstone and Gauntlet.)

"It can manipulate time to the users will. Fast, slow, rewind, you name it, the Time Stone can do it. Then we have an orange one... the Soul Stone..."

"No one knows what it can do exactly... All I know is that... it could prove to be the most powerful Infinity Stone of them all. Its powers, I believe, go from reviving the dead to stealing super powers. So...yeah...Fuck that shit I am out... The next gem is the Reality Stone."

"It's color is red. This one is a bit harder to describe, because all I know is this...with its powers affecting humans by essentially rotting them away. If the Reality Stone is with a powerful enough host, it can increase the host's strength and can help convert matter into dark matter. Better said...it can be a second Loki. It can turn a sharp dagger into a toy dagger, which isn't sharp at all. Then we go to the blue gem. This one is the Space Stone."

"It houses unlimited renewable energy. Bad news for oil companies, good news for evil guys. But it can be also good news for good guys. And lastly....the yellow one, which I don't want to talk about actually, because one of us came in contact with it already... The Mind Stone...."

"That thing got used as a brainwashing tool. And it's all it's good for.", you finished.

"How did they get created ?", the others asked, except Laufey.

"I think Laufey can explain that better than I.", you said.

He nodded, stood up and stood next to you. He started...

"As my father told me... It was told that six entities existed before the universe even came into being and, after the so called 'Big Bang', the entities transformed into the six Infinity Stones, one for every fundamental aspect of the universe. He also actually told me that they were called the Cosmic Entities, who created them."

"The Cosmic- what ?", Thor asked confused.

"The Cosmic Entities, you oaf.", Loki said interested to know more.

"Who were they ?", Thor asked again.

"If you could shut up he would tell us, you big silly oaf !", Loki snarled at him annoyed.

"Loki...", Frigga and you warned him.

He sighed.

"I am sorry. Can you please tell more ? Do you know more ?", he asked Laufey.

Laufey nodded and smiled. He turned to you.

"He really has some manners from me. That is definitely my son.", he said chuckling.

He turned back around and stared at Loki.

"All I know is that... The Cosmic Entities were a group of primordial cosmic beings responsible for the creation of the Infinity Stones. They were mysterious and powerful beyond mortal comprehension, existing as myths to the oldest species in the universe. Their names were...Death, Infinity, Eternity and Entropy. And, if the story is real, they even had their likenesses portrayed on the walls of the Temple Vault on a planet called Morag.", he told them.

"But there are 2 names missing...", Loki said.

"I know. It is just a story, Loki. Not everything is true. Remember that.", Laufey reminded him.

Loki nodded and looked down. Then something sparkled in his eyes, his head shot up again and he jumped in a standing position, shocked.

"Is Odin after these gems ?!", he yell-asked.

"Yes. Yes he is. But he doesn't know where they are hidden.", you answered slyly with a smug grin.

"And you know it ?", they all asked.

"Yes of course ! I am also after them ! I wanna kill someone with a whole army and then I want to destroy them !", you said.

"Who ?", Loki asked.

"You know who Loki. He hurt you and is now after you. They took you from me, now they will feel it much worse !"

"About who are you talking about ?", Laufey asked.

"I told you about them. Don't play dumb Laufey.", you said with anger in your voice.

"Oh...HIM..."

Loki froze up. He stared in shock and panic into nothing.

"Loki was there too ? Why didn't you safe my son ?!"

"Because they set traps everywhere ! That would have been suicide ! I had to wait for his return and hope to Odin, that Loki will survive this ! No one could see, smell, feel or even find him ! I told you everything once before !"

"Yeah...you did...I am sorry for yelling at you....", Laufey said with guilt.

Loki snapped out of his daze and stared at the window with the Golden Gauntlet. He cleared his throat and got your attention. He put his finger on it.

"What is this ?", he asked.

"This is a Golden Gauntlet, Loki. Made for the Infinity Stones, to control them. And guess where he let it made. Yes ! Nidavellir ! I bet that no one is still alive there. With the Stones I can bring them all back and kill HIM. Don't tell me, that you don't want to kill HIM for all of the pain and trouble he caused !"

"Wait ! It belongs to HIM already ?!", Laufey and Loki asked.

"Yes, but right now he doesn't do anything. He is waiting. When this last one fails...he goes searching them himself. I want them before he does. And Odin can't know it, because he is also after them."

"But you can't control them !", Loki yelled at you.

"I know that ! But he will find them otherwise ! I need to take them and hide them with my real self !"

Loki took a step back, tears near. Laufey was also and Frigga too. They knew what that meant for you. For them.

"Please...don't do that. Destiny please no... Don't do this to us. You will die !", Loki said crying now.

You smiled and grabbed his chin.

"How can I die, if I am not here myself ? You all forget that I am possessing a dead human body. My own is still hidden and he can't see us. He will never find out about it. And then we will plan on how to use them, without dying."

Realization hit Loki and he blushed. Hard. You laughed.

"You forgot. Right ?", you asked him.

"Yes I did...", Loki whispered.

"So...that's why you want to do it ? You aren't in your own body ? Wow...", Laufey was amazed.

You giggled.

"I will also have some help."

"Who will help you ?", Thor asked.

"You don't know them. The Guardians of the Galaxy. I know 2 people, which would love to help me."

Part 35

Masterlist with all Chapters of this Story click here !  

#Marvel #Loki Odinson #Loki Laufeyson #Thor #Loki x Reader

[princess-of-riviaa]

Bewitching the Witcher Part 5

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Summary: Your sickness plays its last hand. As Geralt rushes to save you, will anyone’s efforts be enough to keep you alive? Or is this where you meet your death?

Series summary: You and The Witcher aren’t meant to be together. In fact, the only thing you two should be doing is getting as far away from each other as fast as you can. You shouldn’t. You really fucking shouldn’t. But he’s just too tempting to resist.

Author’s note: This is the final chapter in my first series for The Witcher fandom, and also my first series that I’ve written on tumblr. When I wrote the first part to this I never imagined that the story concept would get as much love as it did. So thank you everyone who has read to this point. SIDENOTE: this part doesn’t contain smut. It’s written purely for the plot. However, the parts prior to this chapter all contain plenty of Geralt love, and I will also be writing more oneshots/headcanons for both the infamous Witcher and his Bard.

You knew it was the last day of your life, but you kept that knowledge to yourself. If you brought it up to either of the protective bastards you’d come to love in the last six months, they wouldn’t let you enjoy it. And you’d be damned if you didn’t enjoy the hell out of your last day on earth.

So you didn’t bother to elaborate when you asked Geralt to make his famous roasted pork. He hunted down a worthy animal in less than twenty minutes and cooked it slowly over the fire, just how you liked it.

And you didn’t let Jaskier evade you when you cornered him in the woods and asked him the question that had been burning a hole in your brain for weeks: “Why did you never try to fuck me?”

Of course, you enjoyed the way his entire body seemed to go red as a tomato in a matter of seconds. “W-what?”

You rolled your eyes at his innocent facade. “Oh, please. You’ve groped everything that breathes. You’ve lied with every woman from Cintra to Nilfgard. So why didn’t you ever try to sleep with me?”

He looked everywhere but directly at you.

“Do you not think I’m beautiful, Jaskier?” You almost laughed at your own question. You hadn’t seen a mirror in a few weeks, though you had no doubt that you resembled a skeleton more than a living, breathing person. You’d never been further from beautiful than at this moment.

But you remembered who you used to be, when the Witcher blood ran strong in your veins. You’d been the perfect height--tall enough to look down on most people but not too gangly--with legs for miles. Your muscled body had curves in all the right places. Your breasts had been huge, your ass even bigger. Eyes followed you wherever you went, as did a line of drooling men. Back when you’d been a goddess of beauty, you hadn’t cared about any of it. Now you longed for it.

“Of course you were, Y/N,” Jaskier replied, then quickly added, “I mean, of course you are. Are, not were.”

“Just tell me why, then,” you pushed.

He laughed, clearly uncomfortable, though he knew you weren’t going to drop it. “Honestly?”

You nodded.

Jaskier kicked the fallen leaves and small tree branches at his feet, still avoiding your gaze. “I used to tell myself it was because you’d probably cut my manhood off if I tried anything.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped you. Jaskier had once been terrified to get within five feet from you. Now, of course, he was like your protective, annoying older brother. That might have been the one good thing that had come out of your sickness: your newfound relationship with the ridiculously talented bard.

“I wouldn’t have gone that far,” you finally got out, still grinning at him.

He shrugged. “I know.”

“So that wasn’t the real reason,” you realized.

Jaskier finally brought his blue eyes back to yours. “No.”

You sighed. “Don’t make me beg for it, Jas!”

He hesitated. Then, “Because I knew--even from the night Geralt and I first ran into you and you tried to kill him and nearly did--I knew that you were his. You were always his, Y/N, and he was always yours. I’ve never believed in soul mates. I actually think that concept is complete bullshit. We get to choose who we love in this life, that’s what I believe. But you and Geralt... if there’s a better word than soul mates to describe the two of you, then I don’t know it.”

Oh.

You hadn’t been expecting that. Not from Jaskier. Not now--not today.

“Is that a good enough answer for you?” Jaskier wondered, breaking the silence.

All you could do was nod.

...

You convinced Geralt to take you on a hunt. There was no better way to end your last day alive than by killing a monster. And so, after an hour of pleading and convincing, he finally agreed, though probably just so you would shut up about it.

It didn’t take long for you two to find a creature roaming through the woods: a berserker. You found it ironic. On another hunt for a different berserker in a different mountain range during a simpler time, you and Geralt had finally revealed your feelings for each other. A berserker had started all of this. It was only poetic that a berserker would end all of this, too.

But before you could even strike the killing blow to the creature, your nose began dripping. Geralt beheaded the monster for you, much to your annoyance. You wiped your nose with the back of your hand. Geralt’s eyes widened when he glanced back at you. You didn’t have a chance to ask him what was wrong before you were doubled over in a coughing fit. When you pulled your hand away from your mouth, it was stained with blood.

Your nose was bleeding.

You were coughing up blood.

You didn’t have to be a medic to know that your time was just about up.

Geralt, on the other hand, wasn’t about ready to accept it so easily. In a flash you were in his arms and he was running back to your makeshift camp. He didn’t even explain himself to Jaskier before throwing you over Roach and climbing onto the horse behind you. Roach ran like he was desperate to save you, too.

You arrived at the nearest town in a matter of minutes. Geralt carried you in his arms, screaming wildly in the streets for a medic. Finally one approached you. Geralt followed after him.

All you were concerned about was the horrid, metallic smell of your blood. You were covered in it now. You’d also managed to dampen Geralt’s clothes with it, too. If he didn’t always wear all black, his clothes would have been stained.

You laughed at the thought, though it wasn’t particularly funny. Both you and Geralt knew it was a hysterical laugh; your time was down to minutes now.

“Hold on, Y/N,” Geralt muttered to you. He spoke so softly you could barely hear him. “Hold on for me.”

You stared at him as he carried you in his arms. Something hit you, then. The infamous Witcher, the wild beast of a man that Jaskier had written about and made famous throughout the land--most people feared him because he resembled a monster more often than he resembled a man. But with the fear in his eyes right now he looked so... human.

Your fingers were moving through his hair before you’d even realized you’d told your hand to move. “You’re so beautiful, Geralt. Such a beautiful human.”

“Y/N...” There was a warning in his voice, though you couldn’t figure out what he was warning you about.

“It’s okay, my love.” He had to know you were okay, that there was no better place for you in the entire world than in his arms, feeling his Witcher heart beat slowly against your head. “My love... you’re my love, Geralt.”

The world faded around you. All you could see was a man in the distance--a gloriously beautiful man. His dark hair was clipped short and his shining blue eyes looked longingly at a woman just a few paces from him. The girl’s blonde hair flowed in the wind, circling her tiny body.

The girl was--the girl was you. You, as a human. You, with no Witcher blood inside of you.

And the man who looked at you like you were the center of his universe--

That man was Geralt. Human Geralt.

You tried to cry out to him, to get his attention, to say something, but you had no voice. All you could do was watch as the Human You neared Human Geralt and looped your hands together. He kissed the top of your head and you swear you could feel it on your own head, your Witcher head. And then Human You and Human Geralt walked side by side until you disappeared in the distance, never needing to look back because all you needed was right beside you.

You wanted that, you realized. You wanted a long life with Geralt. More than you wanted to be a Witcher. More than you’d ever wanted anything.

You wanted him.

You wanted to be happy because of him.

You wanted him to be happy because of you.

And you’d be damned if you weren’t willing to fight tooth and nail to get that happy ending.

...

The medic told Geralt and Jaskier that you were dead before the medic could have tried to save you with a potion or elixir. The news made Jaskier erupt into a screaming fit, only occasionally broken up by a painful wail. Geralt, by contrast, became still as a statue. He didn’t move for several minutes. Those long minutes eventually stretched into hours. The night passed. Still, he never left your bedside, despite your body growing colder with every passing minute.

“G-Geralt,” Jaskier finally dared to speak up in the first light of dawn.

He didn’t reply. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t do anything but stare at your body like his gaze could bring you back to him.

Jaskier called his name again. “She deserves...” He swallowed back a hiccup before beginning to sniffle. “She deserves a proper burial.”

Geralt didn’t even acknowledge Jaskier’s presence.

Jaskier moved towards your body on the other side of the bed. Finally, Geralt broke out of his trance. He jumped up and threw his arms around you, cradling you into his chest. Jaskier froze. Geralt’s gold eyes were wild and frantic, his sharp teeth blaring, and Jaskier knew that Geralt would kill him before he could get his hands on you. The Witcher resembled an untamed beast claiming his territory. Jaskier wasn’t about to get in the middle of it.

Jaskier left once the sun had fully appeared in the sky, off to get food for him and Geralt and--though he didn’t include this part--to get flowers for your corpse. Months ago, he’d heard you say that lilies were your favorite, so he went off in search of those.

Geralt remained by your side.

It was surprising, in the end, how your witcher had failed to notice anything changing within or outside of your body. His Witcher senses picked up nothing--not the first beat of your heart, a heart which now beat as fast as a human’s and not a Witcher’s; not the way the heat returned to your skin, bringing a pale color with it, brightening your cheeks and reddening your lips; not even the way your eyelids began to flutter like you were dreaming.

In fact, he was oblivious until Jaskier returned and pointed out that you looked eerily far off from dead. That you looked like you were alive and breathing and--

And that you no longer looked like a Witcher. The physical improvements that had transformed your body after you’d passed the witching test--the longer legs, the muscles that rarely tired, the nimble limbs that allowed you to move as fast as the speed of light--were gone.

Geralt watched you with a frozen awareness, waiting for--for something. He didn’t seem to know what to expect. Neither did Jaskier, which became obvious when he squeaked and moved to the corner of the room upon seeing your eyes open.

Your Witcher eyes had been silver. Not gray, not a soft shade of blue, but silver. They’d glowed as ominously as Geralt’s gold ones did.

But now, the eyes that blinked up at the two people you loved most in the world were an undeniable shade of jade green.

Neither Geralt nor Jaskier moved, unsure if you were a ghost or the undead or what.

They watched, Geralt’s hand moving to hover over the dagger strapped to his side, as you lifted yourself into a sitting position. The room was deathly quiet as you took in everything around you. You must have been staying in an infirmary, which you guessed from the sight of a million tiny jars of potions and healing ointments on the table beside your bed. That was the only decoration in the room besides the bed that you currently occupied. It was completely impersonal.

Your eyes flicked to Geralt. It was strange and unexpected, the feeling of terror that crashed through you. You’d only ever known him as a Witcher yourself, and the sight of another mutant like you hadn’t scared you. But now... now your heart was beating fast, and that was human fear running through your veins. Still, despite the warning signs in your mind screaming for you to run from him, you took in the sight of him with relief. Geralt. Your Geralt. Your Witcher.

You never thought you’d see him again.

The tears blurring his gold eyes were the only sign of his relief. His hand still hovered over his weapon, always cautious. There were deep, dark circles under his eyes from the stressful eighteen hours he’d just endured. But he’d never looked more beautiful to you.

You forced yourself to look away from him and turned towards Jaskier. The satchel at his side was full, probably stuffed with bread and cheese and cheap wine for him and Geralt. Orange lilies were crumpled in his hand as he took in the sight of you--very much alive, when you hadn’t been the last time he’d seen you.

“Those flowers are beautiful,” you said. Your voice sounded strange even to your own ears. Not as loud or as demanding; it no longer contained the strength of a Witcher. “But I don’t think they’ll be any good funeral. Perhaps a wedding?”

“You’re... alive.” There was no connotation in Geralt’s voice, the shock too great for him to generate a tone of voice.

You smiled at your Witcher. “I’m alive, my love.”

“H-how?” He blinked his tears away, though a few slipped down his cheeks. You resisted the urge to wipe them away. “The medic, he said you--”

“That Witcher we found a week ago,” you said, a thoughtful frown on your face, “her words finally make sense to me.”

The men just blinked at you, unable to follow along.

You closed your eyes, remembering the words of that ancient Witcher: “The only cure for my sickness is death.” The men were still frowning at you when you looked back at them. “I had to die before I could get better. Death wasn’t the sentence; it was the antidote.”

“You’re... better?” Jaskier asked, looking doubtful.

You looked between the men. “Well, that depends on your perspective, I think.” You looked down at your hands, thin and bony and small--not Witcher hands. “I’m no longer a Witcher. I’m human.”

Geralt sniffed. You looked to him, thinking he’d begun crying, and realized that he was sniffing the air--for your human scent. He paused when it hit him. His eyes went wide. “You are human.”

You hesitated. “Does that... disgust you?”

He didn’t answer with words, but rather with a quick kiss to your mouth. He held you tight against him, his arm wrapped so tightly around you that you could no longer breathe, but you didn’t dare ask him to stop. His mouth moved against yours, every touch a declaration of his relief.

Jaskier cleared his throat.

You two broke apart, looking over at the bard.

“So you’re just... you’re okay now?” He asked you. “You’re not sick?”

“I don’t think so, though I’m not sure,” you admitted. “But I think my Witcher magic was enough to fight the sickness. I think, now that I don’t have my magic anymore, I don’t have the sickness either.”

“So you’ll be okay?” Jaskier’s eyes widened hopefully.

You let yourself smile. “Yes. I’ll be okay.” You looked back at Geralt, whose eyes had never left your face. “Geralt, I’m human.”

He smiled back at you as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “So I’m hearing.”

He wasn’t getting it. “We can be together now.”

He frowned, the realization finally hitting him. “We can be together.” It came out as more of a question than a statement.

You looped an arm around his neck and pulled him back against you, giving his mouth a whisper of a kiss. “Marry me, Geralt.”

He pulled back, surprised. “W-what?”

“I want to be with you,” you said. “I want to spend every second for the rest of my human life by your side. I want to be yours--and I want you to be mine. So marry me.”

He laughed. “I never imagined myself being married.”

“Well you should start,” you told him as you slowly rose to your feet, unsure how stable your human body was. “Because I want to marry you. Not in a year, not in a month. Now. I want to marry you today, Geralt.” You pointed at the orange lilies in Jaskier’s hand. “And I want those to be the flowers I carry down the aisle with me.”

#geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt x you #geralt imagine #jaskier #jaskier the witcher #the witcher #netflix the witcher #geralt the witcher #bewitching the witcher #the witcher series #the witcher tv show #jaskier imagine

[seekeroftruthpromestein]

Welp. Paradox time.It’s the Finale.

Yikes. Last campground....

That doesn’t bode well...

Here they are. All my friends. I’ve traveled with them for this long. We’re near the end of the game. Who knows what will happen... 

Promestein. You’ve been a very interesting character to see through this game. Seeing you young kind of shows you were always a fucked up kid. But, you have a good heart. And you now have a found family. You’re no longer a lone wolf salvaging through a dark world. You have us. And we’re happy to have you and alllow you to examine this bright new world.

Nuruko. I sadly didn’t get to know you too well and I’ll be sure to remedy that next game. But you were an interesting little thing. 

I wouldn’t have pegged you as a main character honestly but hey. I’m glad your here. You were another person that I’ll have to be sure to bring next time because I feel you probably have lots of interesting insight. 

Pope. You are DEF going to be in my next group. You were one of the most exciting twists i’ve ever seen and I am happy you were here. I am still angry for no sex scene. 

Hilde. Once again, another “I didn’t bring around enough” but you hey. Happy to have you.

These two were my favorite running joke. The not so wise senpai and the student. 

Not sure why YOU are here but you WERE the first boss of the game. So. Yeah. Welcome.

And you were the first recruited monster... I think.

This little exchange reminds me. Granberia was NOT at ALL a regular character in this entire exchange. Hardly any of the knights showed their faces. Alma I think was the most regular. 

The spirits play little purpose as well. In the orginal trilogy they were SUPER important as they were a constant ability you had to keep on or die.  Here. They’re not weak, they’re decent buffs.  But I rarely use them... I did use them actually in the battle against Blalice. Alice actually is a Spirit Summoner because I felt it was rather poetic all things considered. 

Wait are you a noble? Maybe you should put on pants. And a shirt. But okay. Vanilla! The most useful member that never see’s battle. She was BRIEFLY drafted in Black Alice when all of the other allies died but yeah. She has been a rock this entire time. Constantly producing MP for the party.  

I admit I never had a use for her. She mostly stayed around because she had the most Dialog from things. 

And ah. The MVP herself. Okay second MVP but we’ll get to her soon. Superb support. Valuable as hell. Sadly a lot of Angels have Auto-hit attacks. But I would have lost without her many times. 

I’m trying to do the whole sentimental thing but yeah. Don’t have a lot to say. Maybe one of these days I’ll have just the four of them on a team. 

I’m just WAITING for you to betray me. But it’s a bit late and you’re no longer important in the slightest so. 

Ah speak of the devil. Now. Time for the main course. 

Traveling with Black Alice has been a really facinating experience. She’s a lot of fun. If you know, a bit evil. It’s interesting that she played the Alice. Pretending to be something she’s not. It makes me wonder if it’s a tradition? I wonder if this experience will make her nicer. 

Ah Sonya. You sadly have a LOT of death flags... It was interesting the idea of Luka having a human friend, but from a writing perspective it makes sense as she suddenly got the tropes that were associated with Alice in the first game. 

Not a good sign.

This does bring a point though. Sonya I dropped out of the party for not being too useful. A healer in a game where healing is incredibly easy. And she didn’t exactly have a whole lot... Actually I could have turned her into a vampire funny enough. And a worm Villager. But yeah, besides that. She didn’t have a whole lot. I’m probably gonna try using her more in my Ilias file as I want to RP it as more of a Human/Angel Centric idea. The only overlap being Prom really. 

And Alice. I really wish there was more to you but I get it. The romance between Luka and her just isn’t  a focal point. Despite the fact that her and Luka’s children are in fact facing off. I kind of wish that was addressed more. 

And her mother... There’s actually a LOT of plot threads still not addressed. 

Was hoping for Elemental Giga. This would be a game where it could be theoretically useful though. With all the abilities and such.

Ilias prayer music in the background.

Now we have Opera music... Place has changed.

Less then steller. 

You bitch.

You know what. Fuck you. YOU are FOURTH! 

Alright gotta act quickly. Can’t... wait

WHAT??

SHE SAID IT

I’m not sure if gleefully killing an entire town counts. 

Never a nice thing to learn.

“Then the fanfiction writers started... There’s this ONE bitch. She runs a Promestein blog and if you LISTENED to the drivel she writes. She made up this nonsense with male monsters for drama’s sake”

“And don’t get me started on the Luka Situation. There were like 3 at one point.”

Wait... How many others from other worlds??

...Wait When??? I can go over level 60 now?? Must be when I updated.. Huh. Okay. Wish I did this earlier.

Too many... oh

See. I’m doing an RP with La Croix that takes place using this concept. But something both of us realized is that Luka actually very rarely DIED in most of his endings. Not right away. Many of them used him as a pleasure slave. Or married him. Or he just gave up adventuring. Some like the angels even used him for 1000′s of years. So. Theoretically. He would have had to live his entire life. Die of natural causes. And then wake up back at a fight he had years ago. 

But here it just says failed. 

Oh.... Is this...Which Ilias?

I forgot... You’re... the Real ilias. so you have been trying your best to keep things from going to shit huh?

Oops.

Yikes... So yeah. Makes sense. Fuck that Lukia (Which was us)

The...Remina labs??

Oh hey. It that bitch.

Yes Little Prom. Yes. Soon. You will meet. Yourself.

A better part of the whole. I remember there being an Angel/Monster hybrid who says she couldn’t  combine her dark and holy energy. This is probably why.

I wonder if this is a joke of some kind revolving around smoking becoming less allowed in Japan.

And they summoned.... Black..Alice. Is that how she was alive in the original Trilogy??

Oh no... This..... Is.... Original Trilogy Black Alice.

As creepy music plays. I am reminded. The White Rabbit is a universal Constant. Where was she then in the original Trilogy? Simple. She was here. Right here. In Black Alice... the drug created by Promestein. The fusion of Holy and Dark.

Those poor Scientist.

That Casualty of it.

Oh. Dear. Lord.

“So you finished the art for that Hentai game right?” “HENTAI GAME?? I thought we were making Bloodborne.”

That is terrifying. 

Oh dear lord.

Angels. Demons. Both are at her demand.

YOU SAID SHE COULD NOT REACH US.

Of course. Time Succubi from aother wordl

That. Is terrifying.

Yup. Zero.

She’s dying as the Villain again? The Pyrrha. 

Wait. What?

So... You.. Were killing them to.. Bring them into YOUR world??? So. They’re alive? 

So they’re killing people... to bring them into another?  This reminds me of a little bit of a Webcomic called Order of the Stick. Where the gods wondered briefly if they should destroy the world, in order to save the souls. Because the main monster, was a giant horrifying sould devouring creature.  So if the gods destroyed the world, they could save many from inhiliation, and bring them into the after life.  This begs a lot of question about after lives and existance beyond death and whether or not it truly is a death. 

Bloodying her hands so her daughter doesn’t have to.

Yeah I would like to know that as well.

I would like to know actually.

Wait why are you wearing clothes now?

I forgot you were a person.  Wait. So these are from another universe.... One where Ilias won...And therefor Eden got to wear clothes. 

The old Monster and Angel War, Fought in the foreground of the world we stand.

And the death flags come home to roost. 

Was she... one the entire time?

Or did she become one now?

Mhm. This looks familiar.

And the music begins. The  battle wasn’t too hard. But...

This isn’t good.

Not grand.

This battle music is though. ♪♫

Oh you bitch.

We beat both of them... or...

We did not.

That’s... really really not good.

...what?

HUH???

UMMM????

SHES A WHATR??

She’s the element of chaos....   Does that mean there’s a HOly and Dark Spirit too?

Fine. I’ll train you.

...What?

Oh.... shit.... Dad... Killed Alice’s Mom.

And. That. Is the end.... Welp. I guess we have to do the Ilias Route next.

#Prommey Plays Paradox #Paradox 2

[snakeboistan]

When He Sees Me

Pairing: Karmagisa + mentioned Maeiso

So this is basically a sequel of this where Karma meets florist!Nagisa

I was listening to ‘When He Sees Me’ from Waitress when I was writing this so yeah...

Maehara and Fuwa stood behind the counter, completely ignoring their work as they watched Nagisa pace about the shop, their heads moving backwards and forwards in unison as the blunette walked to and fro from one side of the large room to the other, wringing his hands and mumbling under his breath.

“You alright there, Nagisa?” Maehara asked, amber eyes still trained on his frantic-looking coworker slash friend, “you know it’s not that big of a deal, right?”

Nagisa paused, swivelling in place so that he could give the blond an incredulous look. He repeated, hands flying everywhere, “Not a big deal?! This is the biggest deal ever! Karma is coming in ten minutes to take me on a date - a date - and you’re saying that it’s not that big of a deal?!”

“Calm down, Nagisa,” Fuwa said, as if she didn’t transform into a squealing volcano when she found out that the redhead customer that Nagisa had hit it off with that fateful day had asked the petite pigtailed boy on a date to a local sushi chain and then proceeded to glomp said unsuspecting petite pigtailed boy into a hug as she rattled on about how she was ‘so proud of him’ and that ‘all I’m asking for is to be your maid of honour’, “it’s not like he hasn’t asked you out before. I mean the two of you went to see that Sonic Ninja movie the other day.”

“That’s completely different,” Nagisa exclaimed, “we went to a movie theatre - where you sit in the dark for the majority of the time - to watch a movie that we were too immersed in to actually have a conversation. And then we only spoke for about five minutes before I had to leave because mum called. Now we’ll be in a public area where all of his attention will be trained on me.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Maehara inquired, ignoring the quiet hiss of ‘vile madwoman’ that seemed to escape Fuwa’s mouth at the mention of Nagisa’s mother, “I mean speaking to each other and getting to know each other is one of the best parts of dating.”

“You’d know all about dating,” Fuwa smirked, “wouldn’t you, Womaniser?”

“Former Womaniser,” Maehara shot back in offense, “I’ll have you know that since dating Isogai, I have become a changed man.”

“I sure hope so,” Fuwa retorted, pointing a threatening finger at the blond’s face, “I swear to god Maehara, if you hurt that lovely Prince Charming of a barista I will hunt you down and end you in ways so bad that not even Ranpo Edogawa would be able to find your body or discover what happened to you.”

“Fuwa, if I ever do end up hurting Isogai, you have my permission to end me in any way you wish.”

“Guys!” Nagisa yelled, “can we get back to my crisis, please? I mean I’ve never been on a date before so I wouldn’t even know what to expect.”

“But isn’t that exciting?” Fuwa encouraged, her dark and threatening expression had completely been replaced by her usual starry-eyed adoration of anything that remotely resembled one of her beloved shojou mangas, “finding out everything you possibly could about the other, staring into each other’s eyes as you uncover the depths of their soul as you feel yourself falling more and more in love with each other.”

They both looked at her as she began swooning with daze.

Maehara raised an eyebrow, “where do you come up with this stuff?”

Fuwa shrugged, “it’s not my fault that you two happen to have meet-cutes that are literal shojou material. I mean come on: we’re all florists and Maehara’s boyfriend works in a coffee shop. At this point, I just hope that I don’t get dismissed as a mere side character.”

“That makes even less sense.”

“It’s just - just so scary,” Nagisa confessed, head hanging low as he began twiddling with his fingers, “I don’t really know that much about him apart from that he likes the same franchise as me. And that he’s super smart. It’s just so new that I have no idea what to do. I-I like to stick with the things I know, you know, try to minimise the areas where I can make mistakes. When things turn into some big guessing game and you lose control of the situation, things can turn ugly, trust me on that.”

“But it isn’t a complete guessing game,” Fuwa said, “you know that you like him and that he likes you.”

“What if he doesn’t?” Nagisa argued, “what if he only likes whatever version of me that he thought he saw that day we first met? What if tonight, during our date, he realises that he made a terrible mistake and that I’m really not whatever he thought I was that interested him? What if he’s disappointed when he knows what I’m really like?”

“Hey, hey, Nagisa,” Fuwa consoled. In the midst of the male’s anxiety-driven panic, she had walked towards him and now had the palms of her hands laying flat on his shoulders, their firm grips grounding him in an attempt to prevent him from proceeding further with his emotional tangent, “calm down. You’re getting worked up over nothing. Remember he asked you out

“But what if there’s something wrong with him?” Nagisa gasped as a new idea dawned on him, “I mean come on, have you met me? I’m not much of a catch and I’m certainly not that interesting. What if - what if he’s some sadistic psychopath that is only asking me out to lure me away into an abandoned alley and then kill me so that he can sell my organs in the black market or something? He could’ve planned this moment from the first day we saw each other. Oh my god, I knew I was being too reckless.”

“Holy hell, man,” Maehara rolled his eyes, “I can’t believe I’m saying this because you’re like the most chill person I know but you’re acting worse than Fuwa. You really need to reel back on those crime dramas - not everyone’s some crazy unsub from Criminal Minds. He’s a high schooler just like us. I really don’t think he’s planning on killing you.”

“You never know,” Nagisa shot back, “I mean with the TV shows and current media we’ve got nowadays anything’s possible. He could be some sort of heartless sadist. He - he.”

Nagisa cut himself off when his eyes caught onto the bunches of sunflowers that stood proudly next to the pink cala lilies by the window. Walking up to them, he carefully picked one up and gently traced the circumference of the disk florets, his mouth curling upwards at the memory of Karma entering the store the next day.

“I got your bouquet,” he had said, blushing furiously at the wide grin on the other’s face.

“Really?” Karma asked, “I didn’t get a text so I thought it might have been misplaced.”

“I don’t really text people I don’t know that well.”

“Hmm, I see. Well, what if I told you three things about myself? Would that be enough for us to have a textual relationship?”

Nagisa’s blush deepened, both at the redhead’s words and at the way his heart seemed to beat faster. The redhead placed his elbows on the counter and leaned forward, “what kind of three things?”

“Well, one, I want to study Economics in University so that I can become a bureaucrat. Two, I wasn’t kidding about the offer to the movies. Or with maths. Or about those flowers because Asano’s face was the funniest thing I saw all week. And three, I think that you really know your flowers.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“It’s just what I meant when I sent you that bouquet with the forget-me-nots,” Karma smiled, “there’s just something about you that’s pretty unforgettable.”

“He could be the most amazing person I’ve ever met,” Nagisa whispered, “which is weird because I’ve never felt like this about someone. Especially not someone I barely know.”

“But Nagisa,” Fuwa said, “you’re like really good at reading and analysing people so shouldn’t you trust your instincts. They’ve never been wrong before, right?”

“I don’t know. He’s just so amazing and smart and brilliant and he makes me feel things I can’t even explain even though we’ve only known each other for like a week and he’s like a straight A student and I’m just barely passing my tests. I’m not used to not understanding my feelings and I’m just so scared that I’ll drive him away. He’s funny and knows how to make me laugh and I feel like - I don’t know - like I don’t need to be scared. I barely know him but I want to know more and there may be a chance that he does too but what if when he knows more he doesn’t want to know more anymore. When you’re on a date you’re supposed to be open, but what if the only way I can be open is if I get broken and then he realises that I’m a complete mess and by that time it’s too late to put me back together,” he tucked the bright yellow flower back into the basket with the rest of its species, “I always look at things rationally, I try to get as much information as possible but right now everything seems irrational and I don’t know what to do.”

Fuwa walked up to him and pivoted him around so that she could stare right into his eyes, “you be yourself. Your usual kind, loving amazing self that me and Maehara and Sugino and everyone else knows and loves. You go there and you have fun and if Karma suddenly develops insanity and realises that he doesn’t like you - which will not happen by the way - then I will kick his redheaded butt, you hear me. I’ll even steal one of Sugino’s baseball bats so that I can beat him to death, if you want.”

“I’ll help,” Maehara piped up, “so will Isogai and Yada and Kurahashi and everyone else at The Busy Bean.”

“Wait,” Nagisa turned to him, “the coffee shop knows about this?!”

“Yep,” Maehara nodded with no hint of shame, “they were interested in their favourite customer’s love life and I was only too happy to provide. They ship you guys by the way but will kill Karma if he decides to hurt you.”

“You know what,” Nagisa shook his head, “I’m not even going to question it.”

“Just have fun,” Fuwa reiterated, brushing his shoulders, “you’ll be fine.”

“Looks like you calmed down on time,” Maehara quipped, “because I see a little silhouetto of a man.”

Nagisa and Fuwa turned their heads towards the giant transparent double doors to see Karma sauntering up to the store whilst texting on his phone. Readying himself, Nagisa took a few deep breaths before straightening himself and walking towards the front of the counter. With a look behind him so that he could see his coworkers’ thumbs up, he stared straight at the door as he waited for it to open. The bell rang as Karma walked in.

“Hey, Nagisa.”

“Uhh, hi, Karma.”

“So, you ready for dinner?”

“I sure am.”

And so the two of them left the store, side by side.

Fuwa turned to the boy beside her, wiping away a fake tear, “Ahh, they grow up so fast.”

“They sure do.”

“We should go follow them.”

“Fuwa, no.”

“Fuwa, yes.”

#assassination classroom #karmagisa #shiota nagisa #nagisa shiota #maehara hiroto #hiroto maehara #fuwa yuzuki #yuzuki fuwa #akabane karma #karma akabane #my writing

[dearlazerbunny]

Can I have Kylo for fluff alphabet please? Thank you!

All of them?! I mean if you ~insist~

(Alphabet prompt here)

Kylo x Reader Fluff ABCs 💜

Activities: Free time is scarce, so he’ll mostly visit you at night when the two of you can curl up in bed, watch the stars, and talk about anything and everything. Technically it’s always night in space, but when he’s with you the black seems to dim a little, and the stars shine brighter. It’s the best sort of night, the ones that make you think there are as many possibilities as there are planets in the sky.

Beauty: Kylo LOVES your smile. You smile so easily, whereas he can count on one hand the number of times he’s smiled in the pas year- each time because of you. And he still has to remind himself how to breathe anytime he makes you smile.

Comfort: He’s excellent at holding you close and just letting you cry it out, running his fingers through your hair, and keeping his lips pressed to the top of your head so you know he’s there. Sometimes he’ll tell stories- the same ones his mother told him, about adventures in space and good defeating evil and how hope makes the universe turn. He doesn’t know if he believes in those old stories anymore- but he knows you do.

Dreams: Somewhere quiet, somewhere far away from any war or light side and dark side and Jedis and metal monstrosities that destroy planets on a whim. It’d be a simple house- maybe in a forest, set away from a tiny village- with just enough space for the two of you and maybe... maybe a child. The three of you would lie in the tall grass- a little boy or girl tugging on his mother’s clothes and giggling at the feeling of the dirt beneath his feet- and tell new stories. Because now he doesn’t need those old stories telling him about light and hope- he has his own, sitting right in front of him.

Equal: Kylo is not used to someone standing up to him and calling him on his bullshit. Kylo cannot remember the last time someone called him “Ky” without having a rather vicious meeting with the glowing end of his lightsaber. Kylo definitely isn’t used to someone being in his personal space- a touch on his arm, holding hands, a leg wrapped around his when the two of you are in bed. He might a six-foot-something menace in all black and a scary sword, but you have an infinite amount of little ways of telling him that he is not the boss of you. Period.

Fight: Fighting is loud- there’s a good amount of yelling and stomping around. Most of it stems from insecurities: he can’t get it out of his head that you aren’t going to drop him on a whim someday when you realize how broken he is; you hate that he’s constantly diving headfirst into a war where you can’t do anything to protect him. One night, after a particularly horrible bout, you voice the idea that the insecurities get smaller when the trust gets bigger. So now, any argument, big or small, is only over when the two of you can look at each other and honestly say, “I trust you.”

Gratitude: He knows you’re doing... something, but he doesn’t really realize how much until one day he’s sitting with you, your fingers intertwined, laughing at something ridiculously stupid and only funny to the two of you, and he’s looking at you and how your eyes sparkle when you laugh and he notices he hasn’t heard any of the voices in his head since you started giggling. He’ll tell you later- he wants to hear your laugh for just a little bit longer.

Honesty: Kylo definitely keeps secrets- mostly his fears. He’s scared you’ll leave him, that one day you’ll walk away and won’t come back. He wants a future with you- not just a future, but an endgame- and every day it seems less and less likely. He worries he isn’t what you deserve. He’s scared he’ll hurt you accidentally; he’s terrified he’ll hurt you intentionally. He’s never told you any of this, but the funny thing is- you kind of already know.

Inspiration: You’ve changed him for the better, and keep doing so every day. Much like the realization from Gratitude, he won’t quite know the extent of it until one day it smacks him in the face and he finally thinks, oh.

Jealousy: Yes, and it’s something the two of you have to work on. Constantly. To his credit, he went from hunting down one of your work friends in the middle of the night after he gave you a hug in the mess hall to (occasionally) haltingly and frustratingly voicing his feelings. It’s progress, and you’re willing to stick by him for however long it takes.

Kiss: Your first kiss was incredibly tentative, soft, and barely there. You weren’t quite sure it even had happened, except Kylo’s look of absolute shock clued you in that it very much did. Then about five seconds later you realized that was probably Kylo’s first kiss. Ever. He doesn’t really get it at first- he’s stiff and awkward and at one point frustratingly blurted out ‘but what do I do with my hands.’ He’s much better now. Practice makes perfect after all, and let’s be real, kissing this man is a hardship you are more than willing to bear.

Love Confession: He wanders into your room one night, antsy and agitated and very thrown off by... something. You don’t know what, because he refuses to tell you- just paces your room clenching and unclenching his fists while you desperately try to figure out what’s wrong. Eventually, he faces you, bewildered, looks you dead in the eye, and says I love you- which spirals you into a cacophony of relief, giddiness, happiness, and laughter all in about five second’s time. While he’s looking put out from you laughing at him, you kiss him on the lips once... twice... and say, I know.

Marriage: He thinks he’d like to marry you someday. It’d be simple- you’d carry a bouquet of wildflowers, maybe with some braided in your hair as well. The rings would both be a beautiful smoky grey, and yours has a small piece of his kyber crystal set in the center. He doesn’t know who would be there... Hux? The two of you are friends. The people you work with... well, they don’t know about you. He knows it’s impossible, but he always pictures his mother there too, to give you away.

Nicknames: Kylo isn’t really one for nicknames. You call him Ky, love, babe when you want to get a rise out of him- but every so often, in the dead of night, when you’re half asleep and not quite sure if you’re dreaming it, he’ll pull you close and whisper my queen before pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

On Cloud Nine: Nobody knows. Not a single soul. Have you seen that man’s poker face? Hux and Phasma can guess something is up, but that something being ‘Kylo Ren in love’ is so far out of the realm of possibility that it doesn’t even make the top 101 Things That Might Be Going On With Ren. You think it’s hilarious, and also kind of sweet- he saves that side of himself for you and you only.

PDA: See the above. PDA is not a thing with him, for a multitude of reasons: he has an image to maintain, he doesn't want you to get hurt if potentially being used against him, he simply doesn’t know how to initiate such things. You respect his want for privacy- you don’t want to be rumor mill fodder either. But on the very few occasions you find yourselves out and alone together, you’ll give him a peck on the mask where his cheek would be. That’s enough for you.

Quirk: I don’t know if the Force counts as a quirk, but it definitely makes you laugh when he decides to do stupid party tricks in an effort to cheer you up (think Aang and his marble trick in A:TLA 😂). In the back of your mind, you can’t help but imagine him doing the same innocent magic tricks to the delight of your son or daughter someday.

Romantic: He’s romantic while having no sense of traditional romance. If you mention a favorite flower, there’ll be a vase of them in your room the next day. When you tease him for doing something sweet, he just looks baffled. “You said you liked these. So I procured some. You’re welcome?” The fact that he doesn’t get how much his gestures actually mean makes them that much sweeter.

Support: Kylo thinks you could probably end this whole war single-handed if they plopped you down in the middle of the battlefield. Not that he’d ever test that theory. But if someone has the capability of making him start thinking of things like a future, they have more power in their fist than he does with the entirety of the Force.

Thrill: Considering this is all still fairly new to Kylo, even something like kissing the back of his hand sends him into shutdown mode for a second or two. You’re taking it slow. It took him a whole two months to even get used to the idea of holding hands on the regular.

Understanding: Kylo worries this is an area he’s lacking in. What he doesn’t know is that he instinctively knows when you need a hug, picks up on your moods before you even know what that mood is, and often knows what you’re thinking before you say it. He doesn’t think highly enough of himself to say that he knows someone as wonderful as you so intimately, but the truth is he’s pretty much got you on lock.

Value: You are everything. If he knew there would be no repercussions, and you’d be safe, he would drop everything and move to that little house in the forest with you, War, Skywalkers, and Snoke be damned. At some point, he stopped fighting this war to rid himself of his past and started fighting it so that you and he might have a future.

Wild Card: You have a tendency to pull hair whenever you get really frustrated, so Kylo offered to let you play with his instead- obviously, you are infinitely more careful with him than you are yourself. This eventually morphed into you being able to craft Disney-princess-worthy braids and updos with his hair. Sometimes he’ll let you tuck a flower in it if he really wants to see you laugh.

XOXO: This poor man is touch s t a r v e d. The second you start being physically affectionate with him, he never wants you to stop- laying by his side, holding your hand, playing with his hair, wrapping himself around you. Not that anyone outside of the two of you would have any idea.

Yearning: You aren’t a Force user, but you’re connected to the point where when he’s away on a mission, he can send you a thought or a feeling to let you know he’s thinking of you. More than once you’ve felt the slight sensation of his fingers on your cheek or him walking beside you, even though he’s lightyears away.

Zeal: if you and Luke Skywalker were standing side by side, and he could only reach one of you, he’d grab you by the hand, start running, and never let go.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren fluff #abcs #abcs of kylo ren #kylo ren headcanons #kylo ren imagine #request #star wars request #star wars fluff

[gabba-gool-cool]

Remembrance

Chapter One: A flash

Notes: This is a new DabiHawks thing im starting, and yes it will be ChildhoodFriends!AU because that is adorable, cannon can bite me :) Enjoy the story!

Warnings: Yelling, mention of death (not a character in the series), and mention of not eating food (skip this post if you need to, i promise its okay, be safe!)

this work is also posted to my Ao3!

Not many people know this, but Dabi loves to read. He almost always has a new book with him, he rips through them so quick. Ever since he was a little boy, he loved getting immersed into his favorite author’s universes. His favorite as a child were the Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. He always wondered what turkish delight tasted like and always checked every closet in his house every day as a child, just to see if maybe, just maybe... Nope, just mom’s coats.

He must have read that series a million times by the time he was eleven years old. His mother loved this about him, and she loved to ignite his fire for reading by suggesting new books and taking him to the book shop every other Sunday afternoon. Her favorite shop to take him to was called Philosopher’s Phosphor. It sold many books, old and new. The little shop also sold homemade jewelry by the two old women who ran the place who Dabi’s mother referred to as Janice and Edith.

The shop was always the perfect temperature, not too hot and not too cold. All around the shop there was comfortable seating. Pillows and blankets, books all over. Everyone who came it would always stay for at least an hour at a time, just sitting reading, and if you asked nicely, Janice loved brewing homemade tea, at no cost, of course. You could choose to sit and read every book in the shop if you wished, or you could buy and bring home the books, it was up to you. Janice and Edith would always accept any and all book donations, and always marked down their book prices so anyone could buy. And to answer your question, why of course all of the jewelry is handmade, beautifully made by Edith, they are having a sale, would you like this ring? It would match well with your beautiful skin tone.

Dabi loved asking the old women questions about books like, how were they made? How did they get to the shop? How did you pick which books to put on each shelf? However, his most common question was “what should i read next?” Which would lead to the two old women getting up and taking Dabi’s little hand through the warmly lit shop. They would show him to fantasies, mysteries, thrillers, adventures, and even some graphic novels. He loved everything the women showed him, he would always come back with his mother, every other Sunday without fail, to see the little old ladies that would show him a whole new universe to fall into.

They were always holding hands, and always so gentle to one another, as well as all of the customers, but... that was a long time ago. That shop was burned down, the old ladies aren't there anymore, and Dabi hasn't been to that shop in probably... how old was he again? He doesn't know. However, what he does know is that right now Shigaraki will not stop talking... as always.

“Well maybe he wouldn't have had to die if he didn't have had the audacity to be a little bitch!” Shigaraki’s voiced strained. Shigaraki was stood up, hands out stretched to really make his point. He was talking, of course, about a man he decided to murder on a whim just last night. It wasn’t apart of the mission, the man was just walking home, and the poor soul ended up accidentally bumping and slightly tripping the leader of the League of Villains.

“Tomura, he was crying because he was about to die, most people don't like the idea of dying. Shocker! I know...” Spinner rolled his eyes. He respected Shigaraki, but only because Stain did as well. This doesn't mean that Shigaraki cant get on his nerves sometimes. It bothered Spinner how easily Shigaraki could just up and kill someone for seemingly, no reason. If it wasn't for a good cause, if the person wasn't in your way, if the person wasn't the target, then what was the point of killing them? Its honestly just cruel, and in Spinner’s head, kind of disgusting.

Everyone in the League of Villains has, will, and would kill, but not all of them have the same boundaries or rules they go by. This can and has led to many arguments, just like the one that was about to ensue between Spinner and Shigaraki. As the voices of the Stain fanboy and Handyman began to rise, so did Dabi’s body from his stool at the bar. Dabi was sure that the argument wouldn’t end in a casualty so he didn’t have any need to be here. 

Dabi hated yelling anyways, it always got on his nerves. Whether it be him yelling or someone else, he hated it. Not that he really could yell too much himself, his voice nowadays became hoarse and worn by simply talking too much. That's why his normal speaking voice was actually quite soft and generally pretty quiet. He didn’t mean for his voice to be that way, but years of smoking and over usage of his quirk kind of completely destroyed his vocal chords. Either way, he saw no point in yelling. You can get any point across just fine without yelling, sometimes you just need a weapon, but that of course depends on the person and situation he supposed.

The old floorboards in the back of the bar slowly creaked under each of Dabi’s steps. From the bar, there was a side door, which led to a hallway, which led to some stairs, which led to a basement living room, which led to everyone elses rooms. Well, at least the core members of the league’s rooms. It was nice, having a space for himself. The last time he had a room to himself was probably when he was still a little boy. 

Dabi opened his bedroom door.

The whole house was very traditional, so in turn, so was his room. He didn't have many toys, so his favorite thing to do was play pretend with his brother and his sister. He would set up whole scenes with his siblings. Sometimes the scenes were from tv, and some were completely from his and his sibling’s imaginations.

His sister was always the doctor or the nurse, she loved Recovery Girl. In fact, Dabi remembers how every time Recovery Girl came on the news, she would always make a little squeal and her little feet would pitter patter in one place in excitement. He always found it funny how his brother ended up being the doctor in the family, now that they were older. His brother, meanwhile, loved being the villain. He loved making up a cool bad guy name and backstory, sometimes even costumes if Mom got involved. His brother would make up impossible, evil machines that could rearrange your guts or make you super tiny, or even super big! Dabi’s brother was always very creative.

This left Dabi playing the hero, and he loved it. He would put on a cape, and save mom from his brother’s evil clutches alongside his sister who would give him magic healing and strength “potions” that was actually just little jars filled with handsoap and sometimes random cleaning supplies that was on the cleaning lady’s supply cart. The chairs would become big rocks to jump from, the couch would become a “safe zone”, and the bathtub would become the ocean. The whole house morphed into their own imaginary world. It was wonderful, until...

Dabi’s room now was barren. It has a bed, a bookshelf and a desk. It’s all he really needed, he supposed. The shelf had three mystery books that he picked up on a mission a couple weeks ago. They were “okay” in his opinion. He hated how quickly he called the so-called “plot twists”,  but least the characters were somewhat entertaining. However, there was a slight romance in one of the books, which was very poorly written, it got to the point where he ended up just dropping the book entirely.

The book in his jacket was one of the Dark Tower series by Stephen King, the book series was different from King’s other works in that it was less of a horror novel than it was an adventure series. It reminded him slightly of the books he read when he was younger. He used to prefer adventures and fantasy, but now that he was older, his favorite genre was mysteries. He did indulge in horror novels whenever he happened by one though, he liked a good thriller.

Turning on the light in his room, it gave off a dim light. He needed to change the blub, but he sure it would be fine for at least a little while. Then, it flickered, oh no... and then again, please dont... and finally, with a low buzz and a pop, the light was out.

“Fuck... okay.” he slowly murmured to himself. Slowly dragging his hand down his face in frustration.

He had no idea when he would be able to replace that lightbulb. He had no cash, and he knew for a fact that the league didn't just have some extra lightbulbs laying around, not to mention extra food. 

Damn... his stomach rumbled slightly. Dabi doesn't remember the last time he ate an actual meal, and he doesn't want to remember either. So, since he couldn't get food now or for awhile, he decided to distract himself, as he always did.

Slowly he stalked over to the small window that peeked outside the base. The walls were tall and thick, and he was pretty sure he was the only one with a window downstairs, as tiny as it was. He slowly took off the little tapestry he had hung up to cover the window for privacy. Of course, he couldn't imagine any one peeking through a little basement window so low to the ground, but you never know. Also, Dabi quite enjoyed his privacy, thank you very much. The tapestry blended red, to purple, and then blue in the background with a black silhouette of a dolphin and waves in the foreground. It was an odd little thing, but Dabi enjoyed it nonetheless.

As he gently folded the tiny piece of fabric and set it on his desk, he looked back into his room. Surprisingly, that little window let in quite a bit of light. He silently thanked the window as he plopped down on to his mattress that laid on the ground. Then, he pulled out his book from his big inner pocket on his long jacket, and finally began to read, feeling the thoughts of food slowly drift from mind.

It could've been hours, minutes, or even seconds, Dabi doesn't really know, until he finally snapped his head up from his book and looked to the window. He quickly shot up and went up to the window. He looked left, and then right, and then over again. Huh... that's odd... he could’ve sworn he saw a flash of red right outside of his window.

#dabi #touya todoroki #touya #hawks #takami keigo #dabihawks #hawks x dabi #keigo x touya #keigo #shigaraki #spinner #league of villains