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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

Hopefully I’m not too early but What if Jiang Fengmian went “they only asks for blood heirs” and gave Jiang Cheng up to the Wen Indoctrination Camp because he cannot bear Wei Wuxian going and possibly getting hurt. JC is very hurt by the blatant favouritism of his father but still went as his duty dictates. He somehow become close friends with Huaisang, MianMian, and Jin Zixuan. Please give me Jiang Cheng Protection Squad. MingCheng sort of happens? Thank you so much!

“…wow,” Nie Huaisang said when Jiang Cheng finished explaining. “That’s – that’s bullshit.”

Jiang Cheng flushed. Secretly, in his heart, he agreed a little bit with Nie Huaisang’s assessment, but at the same time he couldn’t just sit around while someone said things about his father…

“Before you say that I can’t say something like that, I’m not being cruel or dismissive, I’m describing the situation accurately using crude words,” Nie Huaisang said, holding up his hands. “It’s not the same.”

That…sounded wrong.

“Back me up here,” Nie Huaisang said to the others in their group. They’d been put into a single group by the Wen sect, all of them but Mianmian who’d snuck over by climbing a tree, and given a too-small, too-crowded tent to sleep in and a single fire pit to warm themselves. How that had let them to sitting by the fire and sharing stories of how they’d been sent here, Jiang Cheng wasn’t sure. “Sect Leader Jiang deciding that because the Wen sect only asked for blood heirs that he wouldn’t sent Wei-xiong here alongside Jiang-xiong because he might get hurt is a situation can be, and indeed must be, accurately described as being total bullshit, right?”

“…it kind of is,” Jin Zixuan said. “Sorry, Jiang Wanyin.”

“It definitely is,” Mianmian said, emboldened by her sect leader’s agreement. “Absolutely bullshit.”

Even Lan Wangji hummed. It was a pretty neutral sound, but it might be an affirmative hum.

Well, if everyone agreed…

Jiang Cheng’s shoulders went down a fraction from where they’d been hovering around his ears.

“I wasn’t just taking it too personally?” he asked, seeking confirmation. “I mean, Father’s right – it doesn’t make sense to give the Wen sect two hostages when they’ve only asked for one, and there’s always the risk that Wei Wuxian would get hurt –”

“Your father should be concerned about whether you get hurt!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, slapping the ground. “They don’t feed us, they make us work in the fields, and who knows what else…! When my brother heard about their request, he nearly killed the Wen sect’s messenger, he was so angry!”

“My mother was angry, too,” Jiang Cheng offered. “She and my father got into a big fight –”

Nie Huaisang jabbed a finger at him, rather rudely. “From the story you told, your mother only got really angry when she heard Wei Wuxian was staying behind.”

“…so?”

“There’s a difference between being upset over your son’s well-being and being upset that – that – that, I don’t know! That your favorite dog is losing the race!”

“My mother threw a vase at my father’s head when she heard that he’d agreed to send me here,” Jin Zixuan said quietly. He was actually a lot more tolerable without his retainers puffing him up and egging him on all the time, and having to work side-by-side in the fields had revealed that under the flash and arrogance there was an introverted boy who disliked dealing with people nearly as much as Jiang Cheng did. “Then she spent the next two days trying to find a way out of it, then hovered for the rest of the week before I left.”

“My father punched a wall,” Mianmian recalled. “Mother had to sit on him before he tried something crazy, like petitioning to remove me from the sect or something. Not that’d I’d ever have let Jin-gongzi come here alone, of course.”

“See?” Nie Huaiwang said, gesturing at them all. Lan Wangji hadn’t volunteered, but obviously no one would ask him, either; they’d all heard about the burning of the Cloud Recesses. No one had agreed to send him here. “Violence in response to an unreasonable request! Violence! Anything less is unacceptable!”

“You know, for the very first time, I think see your resemblance to the rest of the Nie sect?” Mianmian said, chin on her hand.

“You’re exaggerating,” Jiang Cheng said. “No, not about the resemblance, about – the other part. It’s not anywhere near as bad as you’re all making it out to be; Wei Wuxian’s always been my father’s favorite, and Mother’s always been angry about it. It’s not a big deal.”

“They should not compare you,” Lan Wangji said. He didn’t talk much, so everyone always listened when he did. “It is inappropriate.”

Jiang Cheng didn’t know what to do with that. He’d never not been compared to Wei Wuxian, not since he’d arrived at the Lotus Pier all those years ago…and maybe even before.

“Even Lan-er-gongzi agrees,” Nie Huaisang said, pulling his knees up and putting his chin on them with a pout. “It’s all bullshit, I’m telling you. I’m taking you back with me to the Nie sect when all this is over. If your parents want you back, they can come ask nicely.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Jiang Cheng told him.

“You could come to Lanling if you prefer,” Jin Zixuan said, and Jiang Cheng turned to stare at him. “What? Your mother and mine are friends. It’d be fine. I wouldn’t – it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“I’m the heir of the Jiang sect,” Jiang Cheng exclaimed, throwing up his hands. “I can’t not go back!”

“Don’t think of it as not going back,” Mianmian said. “Think of it as taking a long detour.”

“You’d like Qinghe,” Nie Huaisang put in. “My brother’s really cool. He gives great hugs.”

“I bet he does,” Mianmian muttered appreciatively.

“Gross, Mianmian.”

“He’s seventh on the list of most attractive male cultivators, and in my personal opinion should be a good few places higher up. Get used to it.”

“I don’t do hugs anyway,” Jiang Cheng interjected before he somehow got sold up the river – he knew how this sort of thing went. “Father doesn’t like them.”

“…your father hugged Wei Ying when he arrived at the Cloud Recesses to collect him,” Lan Wangji said neutrally.

“Fine. He doesn’t like them with me. Never did, not really, the whole time I was growing up…well, I mean, I guess he did sometimes when I was really young, before Wei Wuxian came...”

“Are you seriously saying your father hugs Wei Wuxian and not you?” Jin Zixuan asked. “And that he - he stopped hugging you when Wei Wuxian was there? Because that’s – that’s…”

“Bullshit?” Nie Huaisang suggested.

“Bullshit,” Jin Zixuan agreed with surprising vehemence.

“You’re exaggerating,” Jiang Cheng said.

“No,” Lan Wangji said.

“No, what? No they’re not exaggerating, no they’re not –”

“No. It is bullshit.”

“…did we just get a Lan to curse?” Mianmian asked, eyes wide. “I didn’t even know Lans were allowed to do that. Ever.”

“It is not a curse,” Lan Wangji said with dignity. “It is an accurate description of the situation.”

“Vindication,” Nie Huaisang hissed. How Jiang Cheng had missed that he was such a vicious little snake during their time at the Cloud Recesses, he had no idea, and judging by the amused expressions on everyone else’s faces, they felt much the same. “See, Jiang Cheng, this is why you –”

“Time to sleep,” Lan Wangji interrupted. His internal sense of time was more reliable than any clock when it came to sleeping and waking, and no one complained – if they stayed out much later than nine the Wen sect guards would come to accuse them of making trouble, and no one wanted to be labelled a trouble-maker.

Mianmian disappeared back over to the women’s camp – boring in comparison, according to her, but more likely she just wanted to keep her word about watching over Jin Zixuan – and the rest of them shuffled back to bed.

Some time later that night, when Jiang Cheng was lying in the middle of a pile of arms and legs he could no longer differentiate, he stared at the ceiling and asked quietly, “…is it really that bad?”

An arm looped around his waist tightened, and a foot lightly nudged him from the other direction.

“It’s not that it’s bad,” someone said, and their voice was so faint that he couldn’t tell which of the boys it was. “It’s that you deserve better.”

Jiang Cheng didn’t know what to say to that.

He continued not to know what to say the next day, but that was the day that they got forced to act as bait on a night-hunt into a giant lightless cave and Mianmian nearly got herself killed, followed very shortly by Jin Zixuan and Lan Wangji for standing up for her.

Under normal circumstances, Jiang Cheng would think first about his sect and only later about everyone else, and he tried, really, but – well, the Wens were attacking anyway, and somehow it’s Nie Huaisang of all people who hisses, “Get Wen Chao!” and Jiang Cheng had, and for a moment there it looked like they were going to be okay.

And then they all got stuck in a cave with a corrupted Xuanwu.

Minus the Wens, which was at least something.

“There are fresh maple leaves on the water,” Lan Wangji said. “There must be a way in and out.”

“I can dive in and check it out if someone distracts the Xuanwu,” Jiang Cheng offered. When they stared at him, he shrugged. “I’m a good swimmer.”

“You’d better be an amazing swimmer,” Jin Zixuan said. “I don’t want to have to plan your funeral.”

“I don’t think we get funerals here,” Nie Huaisang put in. “So if you die, you’ll stink up the whole place and we’ll all be very upset. I mean, gross!”

Jiang Cheng had by this point gotten used to Nie Huaisang’s – Nie Huaisang-ness, but it couldn’t be denied that everyone was a lot less terrified after listening to Nie Huaisang complain about nonsense for a bit. So much so, in fact, that it abruptly occurred to Jiang Cheng that maybe Nie Huaisang was doing it on purpose which…he wasn’t sure what to do with, so he decided to just put out of his mind.

Lan Wangji and Jin Zixuan put their heads together and eventually decided on each of them using a fire talisman as a distraction, alternating between them, while Jiang Cheng crept to the water and found a way out, which he reported back.

“Someone will need to stay behind as a distraction,” Lan Wangji said solemnly. His hands were clasped together, and Jiang Cheng knew what he was going to say before he said it.

“No way,” he said. “You’re not staying behind. If anything, I should; I’m the best swimmer, I might be able to get around it even if it’s not distracted.”

“You know where the exit is; it is better if you lead those going out.”

“A description will do the trick just as well,” Jiang Cheng argued. “And anyway, it’s not – it’s not as if I’ll be missed at home, the way all of you would be.”

They all glared at him, then, and he shrugged angrily.

“It’s true,” he said, and he could say it only because Wei Wuxian wasn’t there to stop him. He wouldn’t even think it, if Wei Wuxian was there; Wei Wuxian always knew when it was coming and interrupted him with a smile or a joke or something, and so the bitterness never got a chance to be let out. But he wasn’t here now, they were, and everyone else seemed to think it was all bullshit and maybe it was, okay, maybe it was. But it didn’t make it any less true. “My father has always said that Wei Wuxian understood the sect motto better than I did. He wouldn’t be upset at all if the sect went to him instead, and if I was dead or injured he’d probably just give him the Jiang surname in my honor or something. Let me be the one to stay.”

“Uh, question,” Nie Huaisang said. “Why does anyone have to stay? Can’t we just set up a trap or something?”

“A trap?” Jin Zixuan said. “What do you mean?”

Nie Huaisang shrugged and looked at Lan Wangji. “Do you know Chord Assassination?”

Lan Wangji blinked, surprised, but nodded.

“Okay, so, here’s the idea…”

It was an extremely stupid idea, based on using the chords as part of a pulley, some Wen sect soldiers and swords used as counterbalance weights, but as a distraction it worked pretty beautifully right up until the last moment when Jiang Cheng was helping Lan Wangji – whose leg was broken – swim through the water and the Xuanwu abruptly noticed that they were all going to leave and dashed after them, getting its head stuck in the exit hole they were using.

“Should we behead it or something?” Jin Zixuan asked, staring at the thrashing beast. “It can’t be allowed to hurt others.”

“Using what?” Mianmian asked, holding up a Wen sword in disdain. “These pieces of – well. These swords? It wouldn’t work.”

“I can still do Chord Assassination,” Lan Wangji said, and with all of them heaving together they were able to hold the string down tight enough to eventually cut the thing’s head off at the neck.

Nie Huaisang even used the opportunity to go pick out some sort of sword that was sticking out of the creature’s side, which he’d declared to be extremely ‘aesthetic’ if you looked at it from a certain perspective.

By that point, they were all exhausted, but no one wanted to stay a second longer in Qishan than they had to – especially since one of the small sect cultivators who’d wandered further away had seen Wens incoming – so Jiang Cheng put Lan Wangji, now totally exhausted, on his back and they all ran away.

“Come visit me in Qinghe sometime!” Nie Huaisang shouted, waving as the Nie sect disciples split off in a different direction. “I promised you some high-quality proper affection hugs from my da-ge, Jiang Cheng! Just you wait, you’ll see how good they are!”

(They are every bit as good as promised.)

#mdzs #jiang cheng #nie huaisang #mian mian #jin zixuan #lan wangji #my fic #my fics #jikazu-sama

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 3 years

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I love Painting Red Madonnas! I also love Aro, and while Aro is admittedly...A Lot, it does make me sad that Marcus and Caius are generally depicted (not just in your fic, even Bella suggests it in New Moon) as being all, "Ugh" whenever he talks. Has the man had any fulfilling conversations with anybody since Carlisle left? Obviously Marcus would be uninterested, but Caius? What do you think? (This is now a general question about how you envision the relationship among the leaders, oops)

First off, I’m glad you like my story so much!

Second, this is actually a lot to unpack.

I guess we’ll start on how I see their relationship in general and then move on to why Caius and Marcus both just “ugh” whenever Aro gets going.

I actually think the three Volturi leaders have a very deep bond. First, I think people make Chelsea out to be far more powerful than she actually is. Rather than go into too many details, check out this post. Chelsea is very useful, but more in the sense of changing your priorities slightly or else making someone seem more tolerable or more aggravating. She can’t make something from nothing nor can she render something into nothing.

So, these are three guys who have done this never ending, frankly kind of ridiculous and a little thankless, job for thousands of years that a lot of people just don’t get. (I’d get into why I think the Volturi law is vital for human society stability in Twilight, and that I believe the Volturi are doing this not only for vampires but mostly for mankind, but that’s a post on its own). To stick with it that long requires not just Chelsea, and not simply a shared very strong ideal that never wavers or dims, but a very close sense of friendship, trust, and fraternity.

More, these guys came together with no common bonds, separated from each other by hundreds of years, and well came up with this.

My point being, all three of them I imagine, are very close. They call each other brother, Marcus actually married Aro’s beloved sister, the only thing he took with him from his human life, and here they are three thousand years later. Even Marcus who, albeit with the help of Chelsea, had felt anything less for Aro would undoubtedly killed himself by now.

That said, at this point they’re a bit more like family than I’d say friends. Family, barring grave circumstances, you know entirely too well and you’re stuck with them through thick and thin. They know the best of you and they know the worst of you and you can count on them still being there the next day. This means you know all their annoying habits, quirks, and more and you can’t leave.

Caius is a barbarian king who has no patience for subtlety or gray areas. Someone breaks the law ergo you murder the shit out of them. Done. Let’s go eat dinner. (I imagine Aro despairs of him).

Marcus I imagined, before the death of Didyme, was the voice of mercy in the group. (I could get into why I think this but it’s very headcanony and has to do with a) marrying Didyme b) what little we do see of him in canon c) the fact that Aro has to play the weird role of middle cop/good cop to Caius’ bad cop which makes it likely there was an original, missing, good cop voice). He would be the one advocating for understanding the circumstances of criminals, considering mercy, etc. (which is a very necessary voice to have as much as Caius’ voice is needed). This, I imagine, would have irritated Caius to no end and probably frustrated Aro at times as well.

Then, of course, Didyme died, Marcus became depressed and barely functional and now Caius and Aro just have no idea what to do with him except that hope that one day he might snap out of it. He never does.

They all have their quirks, just like the rest of us, and things that probably irritate the hell out of the other two.

Which brings us back to Aro.

Aro is, as you mention, a lot.

My god, the man has so much energy. We see very little of him in canon but his enthusiasm and energizer bunny nature practically hops out of the page. Not only that, but his moods sometimes change so fast it’ll give you emotional whiplash. Even if you really really really like Aro, that’s a lot to handle for even a few hours.

Now try handling that for a thousand years.

Now, try not just handling that, but Aro, with that same enthusiasm, rambling nonsense about Carlisle Cullen for centuries. Bringing up Carlisle Cullen is like accidentally mentioning someone’s beloved dog. Sure, the dog is great, the pictures are cute, but suddenly you’re listening to someone spending hours talking about their goddamn dog. You may like this person, love this person, but how much of this can you take?

And remember, he likely does talk this much about Carlisle. First, he brings up Carlisle like twenty times when Edward and company are in Volterra. Second, Jane drops a hint that she’s been hearing about Carlisle nearly non-stop for the past few hundred years and was convinced Aro had to be exaggerating. Because this guy can’t actually exist.

And not just that, but I always imagine that conversations with Aro are a bit like talking with Abe Simpson. He gets on these rambling, nonsensical, boring tangents (half of which are about Carlisle Cullen). Aro can be your greatest friend in the whole, wide, world and I am hard pressed to believe you could willingly sit through thousands of years of that without some measure of “Ugh” coming through.

That said, I think Carlisle did sit through Aro’s rambling nonsense and actively enjoyed it. Carlisle in canon gave none of the “ugh” indication that Marcus and Caius gave off. And that’s why Carlisle is Aro’s best friend and part of the reason Aro’s head over heels.

#ask #anon #aro #the volturi

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mindofharry · 3 years

Text

Fallon Jenkins has no one left. Her family is dead, her friends no where to be found and all she has right now is her bow and arrow and the zombies that rule the night. Harry styles has been wandering around towns for days, looking for rations or new people to recruit but it’s been so long that he’s losing that optimism that got him through the first month of the apocalypse. When his bike breaks down just outside of a garage Harry sees that as fate — what he doesn’t expect is a sarcastic brunette guarding all of the tools. Will Fallon and Harry see eye to eye? Will they rule the apocalypse together?

CHAPTER ONE

☾ ☾ ☾

YOUR LIPS, MY LIPS….. APOCALYPSE.

The first word that came to mind when asked about how Fallon is feeling is: bored. She feels completely and utterly, bored. She’s a creative, an artist. She doesn’t know how she’s lasted out in this world without her pens and paper, but she’s holding on. And she has to remind herself, bored is better than dead. Fallon is drained and exhausted, she hasn’t showered in two days, disgusting is another word to describe her right now.

Fallon lived a good life. She might’ve not had a lot, but she was loved. She had family, a mom and a dad. She had good, supportive friends. Fallon was going to school in New York for arts and drama. Everything was going so well, and then someone just had to become a zombie. Her parents and Fallon all lived together in a small apartment off the east coast, it was tiny and not fit for three people — but they pulled through. They worked extra shifts at the diner, did the odd baby sitting job here and there. And although it was hard sometimes, they all a ton of respect for each other and a shit load of love. Fallon loved her parents, loved her friends.

But that’s all gone now.

Every single one of them are dead or have abandoned her. Her parents were too old, too frail to fight the zombies off. Her dad was exhausted and couldn’t keep up with Fallon. Fallon had strength and determination, which had gotten her through the first month of the apocalypse. But her father and mother seemed to lose faith pretty quickly and in the end, they were too tired to keep fighting. So they surrounded.

Fallon had been out trying to find more food, or people to help and bring into their home. It was like any other day in the apocalypse really. When she arrived home, her parents were dead. They were bloody and beaten up pretty badly, her dads arm had been bitten off and the side of her mothers hip was badly bruised. But they had died holding hands, and on their own terms. Something that kept Fallon going was knowing that it wasn’t her fault, that her mother and father chose to die.

“Baby, we’re too old. We’re only putting you in more danger”

Was it selfish of her to say that she was glad? That she only had herself to worry about? It was easier this way. That’s what she likes to tell herself anyways.

Harry Styles was a writer from England, but had recently moved to America when the apocalypse started. He was sat in his spacious apartment, book in hand and tv on when the news host spewed out nonsense about a zombie and disease. Harry really thought nothing of it, another prank or false information. But then the president of the united states made an announcement and Harry knew what he had to do.

With people outside of his apartment complex fighting for cars and rations, he locked up his home. He brought his drawers to the front door and then locked himself in his small closet for three days.

Once he knew the coast was clear, Harry set out for help. He had his car, but it was probably stolen during the outbreak a couple days ago. So he walked to the storage unit he left his motorcycle in. He had recently done it up and left gas in it, thank god for that.

Harry didn’t know if his family were ok. He didn’t know if this was happening in his hometown too. But he pushed all of those feelings of worry down, and decided to look on the bright side of things.

He’s safe.

Harry has been wandering around towns for days, only going on the bike an hour at a time. He’s found good spots to sleep and hide out for a bit, and he’s got some rations that’ll last him a couple of weeks.

Fallon is currently hiding out in what she thinks is a garage, something to do with mechanics and cars. It’s warm, has tools she can defend herself with and a small office she hide out in.

It’s almost relaxing.

That is until she heard someone outside.

“Time to break out the kit” Fallon mumbled to herself moving over to the red box with all of the tools inside. She took out a wrench and a knife, her bow and arrow attached to her back sort of like a back pack. Fallon took archery back in high school, it comes in very handy nowadays. She’s not athletic per say, but she’s pretty good at the bow and arrow. She’s had to learn how to do self defence, something that’s not easy because she’s so lanky. Her father used to make fun of her because every time Fallon got up her bones would crack.

Harry sat outside of the garage cursing the bike. “Thought you’d at least give me another half hour” He mumbled standing the bike up against the wall. Harry looked around and he almost fell to ground with gratitude when he realised he was outside of a garage. He isn’t the best with fixing bikes or cars, but he has some knowledge. Harry thinks it’s just a small break he can easily replace with the right tools. He’s just praying that no one has raided this place yet.

Fallon was ready and walked outside.

She was not expecting the tall, curly haired, green eyed boy. Her heart skipped a beat looking at him, but she soon composed herself holding up the wrench.

“…Shit!” Harry yelled nearly falling into his bike. His hand came up to his chest and another to his pocket holding onto his knife.

“Stay back!” Fallon yelled moving closer to harry, he put his hands up his knife falling out of his lap.

“I come in peace. I just need to repair my bike, and i’ll be on my way”

Fallon bit her lip still holding up the wrench, she lifted her right hand to wipe the sweat from her forehead. She looked the man up and down again, trying to figure out if she should trust him or not. He didn’t try and attack her, he dropped his knife and from the looks of it his bike does look like it needs some repairing.

“My name is Harry Styles. I’ve lived in New York for three years. I love the notebook. I’m a writer. I have no idea how to use that knife so if you’re going to kill me just do it fast” Harry said lamely, almost like he knew she would give in.

She brought down the wrench and nodded her head.

“Fallon” She said and Harry just turned around to his bike.

“Didn’t ask” He mumbled, bringing his bike into the garage. Fallon rolled her eyes and followed the man, now known as Harry, into the garage.

“I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

“I can help…”

Before Fallon could explain herself, Harry shook his head with a fake smile. “No need, Fallon. Don’t need you messing it up even more” He said tight lipped. Fallon rolled her eyes and sighed, moving away from the bike with her hands in the air. She moved away from the whole place, going back to her make shift bedroom and grabbing her knife from the red box on the way.

She wanted to stab Harry Styles so hard.

But Fallon soon realised he might be more helpful than she once thought.

After a few hours of sitting by herself, and organising her little room Fallon decided to go annoy Harry. When she had her friends, she loved being around them. She loved talking and inviting people out, she just loved being around people. Maybe Harry will be willing to talk to her for a bit, let her annoy him.

“Soo….. you’ve got an accent” Fallon said and harry wiped his forehead and looked up.

She’s trying to make conversation. Harry didn’t like that.

“Yeah”

He didn’t elaborate.

“I visited England a few years back with a friend, super cool place. We didn’t stay long, but I wanted to go back but then…” Fallon trailed off and Harry nodded leaning his hands on the table.

“And then…” She repeated and Harry sighed.

“And then this” He said.

Fallon walked over to harry and looked him up and down. “I’ll let you use all my tools, if…. you stay with me for a couple days” She said her knife digging into his stomach. Harry grunted, if he moved one muscle he would be stabbed — something he does not want. Harry grabbed her Fallon’s hand turned her around so her back was to his chest, the knife came out of his neck and Harrys lips against her ear.

“Was a threat?” He said and Fallon rolled her eyes taking the gun out of the front of her jeans, holding it against his forehead, now having the upper hand. Harry sighed to himself, this girl was exasperating but that could be useful. It’s lonely out there. It’d be nice not to have to do this alone, even if it was only for a couple days.

“I use your tools, bring us to a safe location and then we both go on our way. Deal?” Harry said putting the knife down, Fallon turned around her face close to Harrys. He had beautiful eyes. Forest green. Her favourite colour.

“Get me a place with a working shower and then we’ll have a deal” Fallon said, the gun still up against Harry’s forehead.

Harry rolled his eyes and put his hand out for a shake.

“Deal”

☾ ☾ ☾

“We’ll leave tomorrow morning” Harry said, wiping off his hands on a towel Fallon had given him. She was currently sharpening her knife, shaking her head. Who does he think he is? Fallon is obviously the leader in this situation.

“No?” Harry asked taking a seat beside her. This girl, again, was exasperating. Sarcastic, rude, a bit scary. But beautiful. She had long dark brown hair, but it was pulled into a high pony tail. The pony tail had a small braid in it, a bead on the end of it. Her lips are plump and chapped, but harry would just love to place his on hers.

Woah, get it together harry.

“You’re talking like you’re in charge here” Fallon said.

Harry glared at her, “Well, I am”

Oh hell no, Fallon thought.

“You’re in my space, Noah” Fallon said and Harry rolled his eyes so hard he fell back into the seat.

“My name isn’t Noah. See that’s why I should be the leader…..” He said standing up “Because at least I have the decency to remember your name! Which is not all that special by the way, it’s an easily forgettable name” Harry seethed, his hands on his hips. Fallon giggled to herself, putting her knife down.

“You done with this…” She trailed off, moving her hands in the air at harry. “This hissy fit?” She finished and harry only turned his head away from her as answer.

“Noah is the main characters name in the notebook. You said you liked the notebook. Didn’t forget your name Harry. Even those it’s a very forgettable name” Fallon said, standing up and softly slapping him on the shoulder.

“Get some rest, we’ll be up bright and early tomorrow, noah”

“it’s harry!”

Fallon got her supplies ready for tomorrow, and sat them beside her make shift bed. She was going to miss this place. But she knew if she was going to stay alive in this world, she had to keep moving. She had to trust people. Although she’d never admit this to his face, Harry seems to be a natural leader and she trusts him. Fallon just likes giving him a hard time. It’s fun seeing him to flustered.

Harry didn’t sleep a wink. He felt responsible for Fallon, even though the garage was heavily boarded up — he still felt like it was his job to patrol and guard it all night.

Not because he liked Fallon……

Definitely not.

“Harry…..”

Poke.

“Harry….”

Jab.

“Noah!”

Poke.

“Harry Styles!”

Punch.

“What the hell!” Harry yelled holding onto his shoulder. “You wouldn’t wake up! It’s 6 AM! Let’s get moving leader!” Fallon said tapping her foot. Harry grumbled to himself, popping open a box of gum and putting into his mouth. He didn’t even look at Fallon just handed the box to her, while he put his leather jacket back on.

He didn’t sleep much and Harry doesn’t even remember falling asleep. But it had to be only half an hour ago.

Fallon looked well rested, probably because she had a bed.

“Leader? You’re seriously letting me be in charge?” Harry questioned throwing their supplies on the back of the bike.

“Well, you seem resourceful…. and you have a motorcycle. So you be in charge i guess” Fallon shrugged.

“So just because I have a motorcycle I’m in charge?” He asked and Fallon nodded.

“Works for me.” Harry said and opened up the garage door. “Goodbye Garage. Thanks for keeping me safe.” Fallon said with a pout. Harry rolled his eyes and started the motorcycle handing her the helmet. He stole another one from the back of the garage.

“Noah and Allie take on the apocalypse?” Fallon asked placing her arms around harry.

“Yeah, whatever.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #apocalypse!harry styles #harry styles x ofc #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut

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kiribaku-queen · 4 years

Text

Unexpected [7/8]

Pairing: Dabi x reader, Hawks x reader, Touya x reader

Fluff, angst, AU

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of cheating, 18+ scene but not as graphic

Word count: 3.1K

A/N: Let me know if you would like to be tagged in the finale! Please let me know your thought as well! :)

Summary: Being quirkless wasn’t so bad. Especially when you had two badass best friends that had amazing quriks to make up for it. That is until one of them breaks your heart by disappearing in thin air. And the other breaks your heart by wanting to focus on his hero work. After coming back to Japan after studying abroad for 5 years, you were in for a whirlwind of surprises.

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

He didn’t like it. Every time he saw it, it made his skin crawl. Itching. Scratching. He couldn’t resist the urge to rip through his skin until it was raw with blood. This wasn’t apart of the plan.

You. And Dabi.

What was this situation? Since when did this happen? Did Dabi use him for his own needs? Whatever it was, he needed to stop it. The hand holding, the cuddles, the gifts, the loud sex – all of it had to go. The plan to terrorize the number three hero was on a stand still. All because of Dabi. It was always his way. But Shigaraki was going to finally show him who’s boss. A woman, tall and slender, walks through the door, wearing very high heels and a fitted, black coat that ends at her knees. She smiles at Shigaraki. He gives her a signal and she already knows that to do. As if she’s been here before, she walks down the hall and into a certain someone’s room.

“Are you sure about this?” Kurogiri asks the leader who is overwhelmed with power at the moment. He brushes him off and walks off.

“I got everything under control,” he scowls. He takes his time walking in the direction of the woman and joins her on the bed. Now he waits. And he’s itching with anticipation and pure excitement. When the door opens, Dabi appears to see Shigaraki… and a random woman? When he gets a closer look, he sees that it’s not just some random person. Dabi’s eyes darken and closes the door, blocking it so that no one could come in.

“What is this?” he asks coldly, not even glancing at the woman once, who was already scooting closer to the edge of the bed.

“Dabi! Just the man I wanted to see!” Shigaraki claps his hand together, standing up to be face to face. This doesn’t earn a positive response from said man. Dabi stares at Shigaraki with cold, dead, unamused eyes. But Dabi’s response also doesn’t faze him. “I brought you a present.” Shigaraki moves out of Dabi’s view and reveals the woman behind him. She’s already unrobed, revealing a sexy, black lingerie set that barely covers the private parts. No matter how seductive she was trying to make herself, Dabi wasn’t sparing her a glance.

“Take it back.” He says in the same cold tone of voice.

“Don’t be like that. I thought you’d be a little bored of our little prisoner. So I brought back and old friend of yours.” Shigaraki ‘kindly’ gifted. That’s when Dabi finally spared the woman a glance. She definitely was no stranger. He’s had her over a handful of times for a quick pleasure, but that’s all it was. Now that he’s found you, he couldn’t look at anybody else. He was no longer turned on by every woman that passed him. He no longer had any desire to share intimate moments with anyone else besides you. Dabi knew that Shigaraki was up to no good. There had to be a reason why he brought a woman from his past here. And he had an idea but he hoped that he was wrong.

“I appreciate the thought, but no thanks.” Dabi declined his offer with no hesitation. Now that that nonsense was over with, he needed to find you. When Dabi took one step, Shigaraki said something that angered him to the core.

“I just thought it’d be fun if we switched it up a bit. You go back to your old ways while I take a turn at (y/n),” Shigaraki tested him, smirking because he knew that got him. Dabi was frozen in his spot. Anger and fear washed over his whole body. The thought of Shigaraki ravishing over your body made him feel sick. Dabi pivoted on one foot, turned around and began to release his blue flames. He was going to burn Shigaraki so bad that he regrets even thinking about this idiot plan. But Shigaraki was too fast. He already saw the attack coming. Before Dabi turned around, he was already moving towards him, holding his wrist with all 5 fingers. The moment his 5th finger came into contact with his wrist, his skin immediately started to crumble. With wide eyes, Dabi watched at this wrist started to dissolve right in front of him. Dabi grabbed his wrist with his free hand in pain. Shigaraki took his distraction to lean up in his ear.

“Listen to me and fuck this girl or I will enjoy wrapping my hands around (y/n)’s throat and watch her disintegrate. Slowly. And painfully.” Shigaraki breathed in his ear. Then he started to laugh uncontrollably. “I wonder what her face would look like when her life is being sucked out of her.”

“You bastard,” Dabi managed to breath out, fighting out the pain.

“Agree and none of it will happen. Swear on it,” Shigaraki promised, giving him a choice. But the blue eyed man was still skeptical.

“If I agree, you won’t touch a hair on her?” Shigaraki hums in response. Reluctantly, Dabi agrees. The leader lets go of his already ruined wrist and he is doubled over in pain.

“Perfect. Get to it,” was Shigaraki’s last words before leaving the room on his way to find you.

You just got out of the shower that was located in the basement. You could have used the bathroom that was upstairs, but it looked like it was occupied so back down to the basement you went. It wasn’t so bad either. You got out a nice, steamy shower and some of your things were still in your old room. As you brushed your hair in front of the mirror in your room, you couldn’t help but think about your first time here. How you were first brought here and Dabi gave you an extra blanket because it was cold. And how you refused to eat and snuck out at nights. A lot has happened that you weren’t aware of. Some time has passed, huh? Look at your situation now. You never imagined dating your long lost childhood friend who also happened to be in the nation’s most wanted villain group.

As you were getting into your thoughts and memories, the door busted open, and in walked Shigaraki. Upon seeing him, chills ran down your spine. What was he doing here? You’ve been trying to hard to avoid him but now he’s come to you first? You continue to keep an eye on his movements as you continue to do whatever you were doing. He’s learning by the doorway, doing nothing in particular. Just standing there. He was leaving an eerie feeling on you. You can’t help but feel anxious that he was going to do something to you.

“I don’t get it,” he suddenly says, now having your full attention. There was no context to it. Like he was talking to himself, but he wasn’t. “I don’t see how he could find you attractive. Other girls he brought home were much more beautiful.” You feel a pang upon hearing those words. But you had no idea what he was talking about.

“What are you talking about?” you dared to ask. Perfect. Little did you know, Shigaraki trapped you right where he wanted.

“Oh you didn’t know? Our good friend Dabi used to bring over a different girl every.night.” at this point, you’re completely turned around, looking at Shigaraki with furrowed brows. And you were listening very intently. “And since there’s no girls around lately, he’s probably just stuck to you because he’s bored.” He states nonchalantly. You’re heart clenches even more and you could already feel the tears. But you knew Shigaraki. You tried to calm your breathing to realize that this is Shigaraki we were talking about. He’s a conniving, vicious person. For all you know, he could only be saying this to try to separate you two. You knew that he didn’t like you and Dabi’s relationship. This could be a trick and you were falling for it. Shigaraki could see the confliction in your eyes and smirked. “Oh, you don’t believe me? Why don’t you go check his room right now?”

Curiosity killed the cat. You managed to stand on your shaky legs and made your way to Dabi’s room. You didn’t want to believe it. He has to be lying. There’s no way Dabi would do that to you. You walked slow with Shigaraki following close behind you. You heart started to beat in your ears. Your eyes watering. Palms sweaty and shaking. If Shigaraki was following the act up until this point, he must be telling the truth.

The moment you made it to the hallway, you heard it. Moaning and the bed creaking. Your heart physically dropped to the floor and you bit your lip to stop the tears that were already streaming down your face. Even though you could obviously hear a woman’s voice, that didn’t prove anything yet. You had to see Dabi’s face to confirm that it was really him. No matter how much it hurt, you just had to see. You continued to walk until you were right in front of your boyfriend’s door. The noise was indefinitely coming from inside. You clenched your eyes shut and opened the door slowly with trembling hands. It was just a crack but you saw a sight that broke your heart in ways that you didn’t know could break.

There he was. Pounding the mysterious woman from behind while his lips were attached to her neck. It was only for a split second through a small crack through the door, but there was no doubt that it was him. You saw all the scars, his hair, his body. You felt like a fool. There was nothing else to see. Shigaraki proved his point. Without saying another word, you stormed off to your old room where you belonged.

Dabi heard you open the door. His heart sank when he saw your expression in the mirror but he had to keep the act up. He couldn’t risk you putting you in danger in the hands of Shigaraki. As soon as he saw your crying figure disappear, he immediately threw the woman off him. She was whining but he couldn’t care less. He was only using her for Shigaraki’s selfish needs and nothing more. He quickly put on the rest of his clothes and made his way out the door. When he left his room, he saw Shigaraki standing there with the dirtiest grin on his face. They made eye contact, both glaring at each other before Dabi walks away to go straight to you.

You felt trapped. Like you did when you first arrived, only worse. The pain in your chest just wouldn’t go away. No matter how many times you beat on your chest, it only seems to increase. The image of Dabi with another woman was all you could see. When you closed and opened your eyes, it was that. And it was literally driving you insane.

When you finally reached your room, you slammed the door, the noise could be heard around the entire building. Sadly, the room you were in was the only comforting thing. You felt safe in the cold, cement room you were in. But the only thing you really hated was that there was no lock so you couldn’t lock yourself in no matter how much you wanted to. All you could wish for was to be alone but with no lock, anyone could come in at any time. And currently, Dabi entering was an absolute nightmare to think about because who knows how you could act.

Dabi walks by and all he could hear was your cries. He did this. There was no excuse. He reached for the doorknob but paused midair. Then he clenched his hand into a fist and sighed. Contrary to the emotionless expression that he wore, he started feeling foreign feelings that he hasn’t experienced in a long time. Heartbreak. It hurt. It was suffocating. Was this what you were feeling too? Ignoring the consequences, he carefully entered your room. He saw you laying on your bed, head stuffed in a pillow, crying your heart and soul out. Fuck.

“(y/n)…” he called out your name and you flinched at the voice. Out of nowhere, anger controlled your entire body. You’ve never felt so much rage. You weren’t you anymore. You rose from the bed, throwing your tear-strained pillow at him. When that wasn’t enough, you threw anything and everywhere you could get your hands on at him. That wasn’t stopping him though, he kept taking small strides to you, understanding your frustrations. When he was close enough, he reached his arms out to embrace you but you slapped him in the face. Dabi has never seen such an expression on you before. As if his heart could break even more, you said it.

“I HATE YOU! I FUCKING HATE YOU!” you screamed at the top of your lungs. As if it was the only phrase you could come up with, you continuously yelled at him while slamming your fists in his chest. All Dabi could do was take the hits and watch as you crumble before him.

“I should have never trusted you,” you managed to say in between sobs when you calmed down a bit. But you were still seething with rage. “I was so dumb to ever believe you had actual feelings for me. You were using me. And for what you nasty fuck! Why! Why did you get close to me?! Why me! Out of everybody to kidnap, it had to be me! I just want to go back… fuck!” you sobbed into your hands. God, you probably looked pathetic right now. You were hyperventilating while snot was coming out of your nose and tears were violently flowing nonstop. Dabi didn’t know what to say. What could he say? You weren’t going to listen to him no matter what. All he could do was comfort you from afar but even that wasn’t even doing anything.

“(y/n), just listen to me-” Dabi tried to explain but you cut him off with a scoff.

“Why should I ever listen to again? You’re just a villain.” You spat with no remorse.

“You know I’m more than that,” he says, not fazed with your words at all. You didn’t mean them. You were just hurt in the moment, he knew that.

“Then prove it,” you proposed a challenge. One that Dabi would truly have to make if he wanted to keep you. “Leave the league.”

“You know I can’t do that,” he sighed, looking at you with regretful eyes. You stood there in silence, staring at his face. Why did you even ask? So that he could prove his love for you? Because for some reason, you just had a slimmer of hope that he could still chose you? Pathetic. Do you not learn? You turned around so that your back was to him.

“Leave, I don’t want to see you,” you say, now completely exhausted. Physically and emotionally. You really needed to be by yourself right now. And Dabi obliged without another word. And to think that he would fight for you. How many times were you going to be disappointed? When Dabi opens your door, you say something that only he could hear and it would scar his heart forever. “I regret ever meeting you again.”

Meanwhile, Hawks gave up on the police a long time ago. He was on a solo mission – to save you. After much searching and bribing, he found where the League of Villains were hiding and was sure that you had to be there. He had to take the chance. Any moment of hesitation could cost you your life. Hawks stood on top of one of the buildings nearby, keeping a good eye on the entrance.

Think, think, think Hawks.

Without a seconds hesitation, Hawks released one of his feathers to infiltrate its way in. Left, right. You weren’t there. His feather traced the entire building swiftly and Hawks was taking a mental note of what the space looked like. Come on, concentrate Hawks. You had to be here somewhere. The red feather made its way down the stairs and into a room. Hawks raised a brow when he sensed a figure in the room. Cautiously, the feather made its way to the figure. They picked it up, looking at it curiously.

You were in the middle of crying when something tickled your foot. You looked down, your tears blurring your vision. Wiping your tears away, you saw a red feather on the ground. You picked it up and examined it, leaving you utterly confused. Immediately, you thought of Keigo. But how could that be possible?

“Keigo?” you subconsciously called out his name. The vibrations went straight to Hawks and that’s when he knew.

“Found ya.”

Now that he’s found you, his plan was going into action. He left several of his feathers come flying into the building, pinning down every person that came into sight. And it was a shock to everyone. Toga, Twice and Spinner were all tied up in his feathers, unable to move. Hawks was ruthless towards Shigaraki. Not only did he have him pinned against the wall, but his feathers pierced him several times throughout the body, causing the man to cry out in pain.

“Kurogiri!” Shigaraki called out for help. But Hawks was faster. He sent another feather to pierce straight through Kurorigi ‘s body, knocking him out long enough to save you. Hawks quickly storms through the League of Villain’s hideout and made his way to where you and his feather was, ignoring all the threats and looks he was getting. He sees the door you were kept in. He let his feathers destroy the wall, creating an opening straight to you. You were crying.

Dabi hears a massive crash and yelling from upstairs. Immediately, his thoughts were to you. He had to be with you and protect you.

“Shit, (y/n),” he whispered to himself and was in the middle of turning around to run to you. But when he did turn, you were already in the arms of the number three hero. You look at Dabi and he was looking straight back at you with pleading eyes. But your heart ached even more. You couldn’t look at him anymore. So you hid your face in the crook of Keigo’s neck, holding onto him tight. Hawks barely spares him a glance before flying out of there with you in his arms.

A/N: Still TeamDabi? Or TeamHawks?

Tagged: @superblyspeedydragon @ditu-m9 @snuckerfrcnicken @flowersgirl02 @complicatedharry @seikamuzu @elsasshole @sugarandsoft @lysawayne @gheyboux @its-mochi-boba-tea-blr @rainningdoom @bestgirlkonan

#dabi x reader #hawks x reader #touya x reader #hawks imagines #dabi imagines #bnha imagines #bnha dabi #bnha hawks #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #touya is dabi change my mind

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vampirepiggyhunterdefensesquad · 3 years

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dreams

It had been a fun evening, but Gaz could feel herself pleasantly getting sleepy. Her head lolled slightly, brushing against Zim's shoulder. She suppressed a smile at feeling him twitch slightly at the contact.

"Why are you. . ." His voice trailed off as Gaz let herself snuggle closer, wrapping an arm around his lower waist and pressing her cheek into his neck, feeling him swallow. "Why are you. . . slowing down?"

Gaz allowed her eyes to drift shut. "I'm falling asleep, Zim," she mumbled.

His hand snaked around her shoulders and disappeared into her hair. She could feel him playing with-- studying it under his strange fingers, feeling it. Occasionally they brushed against her neck, and she shivered.

"Ah, yes," Zim announced, "the human propensity to going into hibernation for several hours of each sun cycle."

"Don't go all alien, 's weird." Gaz turned her face into his body and smiled against his neck. "Everybody sleeps."

"Irkens don't need sleep!" Zim barked, jolting her slightly and sending her careening back to consciousness.

Gaz fought back the urge to hit him for waking her up. "Well, have you ever tried?" she snapped, pulling away and leaning on the sofa's armrest on her other side.

Zim folded his hands in his lap uncomfortably. "Why would I try?" he managed. "Sleeping is something inferior species do to pass time and rejuvenate energy they barely spent in the first place. IRKENS have evolved past the NEED for sleep!!"

His eyes kept flitting around the room, but his longing gaze kept snapping back to Gaz, who took no notice.

"I like sleeping." she merely said, settling down in her position and lying down sideways on the couch, careful not to brush Zim with her legs. Zim made an incredulous noise.

"What?"

"Come ON. You, a strong-willed and powerful human with the propensity for violence, loves to be in a state of physical vulnerability while you remain dependent on the needs of your HIDEOUS flesh to SURVIVE?? I'm sure it's a real blast." he finished snidely.

"Well, you can't dream when you're awake." Gaz forced herself to sit up, making eye contact again. She wasn't so tired she couldn't argue, and the idea that Zim resented sleep and looked down on those who "indulged' in it left a bad taste in her mouth. "Plus, it's comfortable."

"Dream?" Zim blinked. "I thought that was a myth."

"You thought DREAMING was a myth??"

"IT SOUNDS FAKE!!!"

"I like sleeping," Gaz repeated, more forcefully. "Just because your dumb leaders decided you shouldn't be allowed to enjoy it anymore doesn't mean it's not good. And dreaming can be some of the most pleasant experiences of your life."

Zim turned in his seat, fully facing Gaz. She'd come to recognize this as his "I-am-giving-you-my-full-attention" pose, and repressed a sigh.

"I would like to know more about these dreams.” he said, staring at her carefully. “Inform me of the sorts of dreams you have."

"Well, sometimes I dream about flying or something. That's always fun. Sometimes I dream I'm spending time with people or characters I like. Sometimes it's just weird, like I have something to do, somewhere to be, and I spend the whole dream trying to figure out how to get there. . . sometimes it's just a jumble of stuff I saw throughout my week. Sometimes, days when I played a lot of vampire piggy hunter, I dream I'm actually in the game and taking down vampire piggies myself."

"This sounds. . . . less than unpleasant," Zim admitted. "You have no control over what your brain decides to show you?"

"Kind of, not really though. I don't lucid dream all that often. That's when you can control what happens and you're aware it's a dream."

"Hm. And you can control everything that occurs?"

"Yeah?" Zim sat bolt upright, grabbing her hands in his. Gaz had no time to react before he scooted forward, pressing his forehead into hers. "TEACH ME. NOW."

She was wide awake now. Instinctively, Gaz's leg shot up and she kicked Zim in the stomach, pushing him forcefully away from her and landing with a thud on the floor below.

"I can't teach you how to lucid dream," Gaz spat, a bit more venomously than was probably necessary. "You have to just go to sleep yourself and figure it out."

"I don't want to sleep!" Zim whined, legs and arms tangled up. He didn't seem perturbed by Gaz's lashing out, instead extricating himself from the uncomfortable position he'd landed in. "I just want to dream."

"You can't dream without sleeping, stupid."

"YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!" he shouted back. "WITNESS my AWAKE-DREAMING!!!" With that, Zim jumped back onto the sofa (landing a bit closer to her than strictly necessary, but who was paying attention?) closing his eyes and going limp on the cushions. Gaz hoped he could sense the disapproval radiating from her glare despite not being able to see it.

"What are you doing?"

"Having a DREAM!!! obviously. Ohhhh, the dream I am. . . having. YES!!! Amazing things are happening in my amazing brain!!!"

"You're not dreaming, you're imagining. There's a difference." Gaz rolled her eyes. The eyes popped open and Zim's face fell into a childish pout. Gaz bit her lip to keep from smiling. It wasn't cute.

"C'mere. I'm gonna go to sleep now. I don't know if you even can, but. . . I wouldn't be mad if you tried. Right now."

"Now? Here?" His eyes bored into hers. "With you?"

"Don't. . . make it weird." Gaz coughed into her elbow, an excuse to look away. "But yeah. It's whatever."

Zim's mouth had closed, and he seemed to be cowed, for the most part. As a reward for his shutting up finally, Gaz returned to her spot on his shoulder, curling up and leaning against him. Zim's arms gratefully went right back around her, and his slight purring returned as she closed her eyes and let the comfort of her position and thoughts carry her away. Maybe Zim would sleep and dream and maybe he wouldn't, but either way, he wasn't going anywhere.

When the morning sun came peeking through the window, Gaz's eyes fluttered open again. A sour feeling somewhere in her chest threatened to rise up (she was always so easily woken, even by the sun, and kept the blinds in her room shut tight every night as a result) but hearing Zim's soft snore from under her cut the unpleasant feeling out from under her entirely. Gaz closed her eyes again and smiled. Judging by the mumbling from Zim's sleeping figure, Irkens could get to sleep, but they were kind of noisy. Maybe their paks kept at least a part of their brain awake during the process, in case of emergency. . .? Or maybe it was just a unique Zim thing.

Either way, she leaned back into Zim's slumbering body, strewn out across the sofa, uncaring of how it might look to anyone who could walk in. They had shifted in their sleep apparently, as Gaz was curled up on top of Zim's stretched out body. One of his arms was still up and over her back, and occasionally a finger would twitch along with a sigh or murmur from his perpetually moving mouth.

She probably could have stayed there forever if he hadn't started sounding a little more lucid.

As soon as Gaz's body returned to where it had been against his chest, a self-satisfied purr rose up in his chest, and his other arm went up to her hair.

",, az."

It was like her stomach had bottomed out and released everything in her body, organs included. She inhaled.

"What did you say?" she asked, in as soft a voice as she could.

"You," he chuckled slightly.

"What about me?"

Zim didn't respond verbally to this question. He merely grunted and tightened his grip around her body, pressing his face into her neck.

It was a wonder he hadn't woken up from the heat radiating from her face and body. Gaz wanted to disentangle herself from him, but she also didn't want to move a muscle for fear she'd wake him up.

She was wide awake now.

"What are you doing?" she asked, softly as she could without outright whispering.

He giggled. He GIGGLED at that. Gaz felt her breath catch, then cursed herself for having that reaction.

The giggle was slightly menacing, which made sense in retrospect as Zim's claws tightened on her back.

"Mine," he purred into her ear as they subtly slid downwards.

Gaz panicked. She jumped to her feet, out of Zim's ever-tightening grip, and stumbled backwards a few steps, trying to regain her balance and composure. He had no right to make her stomach do flip-flops like that. He had no right to be even the least amount of smooth or competent, asleep or not. Gaz clapped a hand over her mouth to steady her breathing, then frantically began rubbing her arms up and down and told herself she did NOT miss the contact as the chill of the room hit her.

Apparently, Zim did, as his eyes slowly flickered open and leisurely made their way over to hers.

A lazy, half-lidded, goofy smile broke out on his still sleepy face.

"Gaz. . . human." The suffix was an afterthought, savored in his mouth.

"Did. . ." Gaz swallowed. "So did you dream?"

"Dream?" Zim looked slightly confused. "Did I . . . dream?"

"Yeah, you definitely did," she answered. "I heard you sleep talking."

Zim's face went from self-satisfied to shell-shocked in heartbeat. His hands snapped together and he stared at her.

"What did-- what did I say?"

"Nothing!!" Gaz answered, waving her arms frantically. "It was just nonsense words, just babbling. You didn't say anything out of the ordinary, nothing weird or strange or cute or terrible, I'm gonna head home now, this was weird, bye!!"

"You're leaving??" Zim looked completely forlorn. "Already?"

Gaz flushed. "Get a grip," she said, as much to herself as to him. "It was just a dream."

He sat up slowly. "That was. . . unpleasant."

"It seemed pretty pleasant," she mumbled before she could stop herself. Zim's eyes swiveled to her again.

"But it wasn't REAL! What's the POINT????"

"The point? There's no point. It's just your brain entertaining you while you're asleep or whatever. . ."

Zim folded his arms and scowled. "I didn't like it."

"Of course not." Gaz was feeling tired again. It was barely sunrise and he was already yelling. "I'm gonna go home and go back to bed. See you later."

"There is no need!! It would be acceptable for you to, eh, continue staying in my living room."

"Thanks, but I want to go home," Gaz insisted.

He hopped to his feet and bounded over to her, sticking his arms out. "I COMMAND YOU TO STAY. We have not yet finished the levels we intended and you can't go home until we do!!! SLEEP HERE. dream HERE."

Hitting him with an elbow and rushing out the front door was satisfying vengeance for the topsy-turvy stomach feelings she was getting bombarded with, but it didn't stop her mind from racing all the way home. And it certainly didn't help her mutinous body stop wanting his warmth when she crawled gratefully into bed at home and closed her eyes. And it didn't keep her treacherous brain from coming up with all sorts of soft, cuddly scenarios to push on her in her weakened state.

Zim was right. Dreaming was dumb.

#zagr #zim #gaz #invader zim #my stuff #i livewrote this today and didnt edit it enjoy #i created this thing

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andromedarune · 4 years

Text

Bede x Hop Request:“Just Desserts” (p2)

REQUEST ~ “I have one, it’s a hop x bede where bede feels bad for being mean to hop, but is too scared of apologizing to him in fear of rejection. Due to his past at the orphanage and his overall fear of being left alone again. So he decides to send homemade desserts to hop with secret messages ,anonymously . Hop Figures it out when the desserts stop coming after bede gets sick badly ( maybe a bad fever from exhaustion, anything that stops him from baking will do). You can include opal or the other gym leaders teasing hop on who could be sending the treats. I hope this is okay.”

A/N: Alright, here’s the conclusion to my mini-fic requested to me earlier in the week! I definitely got carried away with the prompt, but I really wanted to nail the emotions being presented here (because there are A LOT). Not sure if I accomplished that, or much else, tbh... Oh well! Give it a read anyway and hopefully it’s decent? Thank you!

It’s hard to really say that his work could possibly follow a routine. There were the basic things that always remained the same, of course; he’d wake up a seven in the morning every day, feed Dubwool before he started eating his bedsheets, do whatever morning chores his mother had waiting for him, head to the lab, basically become free slave labor for Sonia for the next eight or so hours, come home to a few more chores, then pass out on the couch while working on some papers before magically waking up the next morning in his bedroom. That was probably the closest thing to a routine he’s ever had, all things considered. But Hop never really minded the idea of a routine or the lack thereof; so long as he got to have some fun at some point, he didn’t mind. And it was safe to say that being the new professor’s assistant was far from what he would consider a boring life.

But he wasn’t sure how he felt about getting comfortable with someone constantly leaving lovely gifts for him every single week.

The first one came in, leaving the assistant incredibly puzzled. It wasn’t anybody’s birthday, here, so that idea was dashed. Maybe Leon brought it for Sonia? Hop shook his head; he wasn’t so quick to assume something like that, especially since Leon had never mentioned anything about giving Sonia presents beforehand. Nevertheless, the youth brought his findings to his boss, who was equally as perplexed as him. So the two opened up the box as well as the letter. A beautiful cake, and an eloquent letter apparently dedicated to Hop. Now that was a plot-twist.

“Someone’s got a secret admirer~,” Sonia nudged his shoulder, still giggling at the way he was completely frozen in a state of perpetual embarrassment. Maybe he should have investigated on his own before bringing it to Sonia.

“D-definitely not!” Hop finally found his words, wincing at his voice crack. He thought he had enough of that when his voice started changing. Apparently it wasn’t done with him.

“Oh yeah? What did that letter say? Something about the ‘brilliant radiance of determination reflecting like the sun in your eyes’?”

“Sonia, please,” Hop slapped his hands over his face.

She laughed some more, giving him a good pat on the back.

“Relax - there’s nothing wrong with having a secret admirer. It’s actually really sweet and adorable.” She picked up the letter, flipping it around a few times in her hands. “Though, they didn’t seem to leave a name. Any ideas on who it might be?”

“No clue. I honestly didn’t think that anybody’d actually think of me like that…”

“What? Of course they do! You’re a total catch, Hop - not for me though, ‘cause that’s gross.”

“Yeah, gross,” Hop finally laughed, lowering his hands to inspect the cake a bit. It really did look good. Chocolate cake was always delicious. “So, should we eat this now or…?”

“Who, me? No way - this is your secret admirer. You eat it.”

Before Hop could argue, Sonia sashayed out of the room, snatching up some of the documents she had brought into the room. Once she was gone, the boy simply sighed, glancing back down at the cake. Well, best not let it go to waste. He sat himself down, skimming over the letter a few more times. Who in the world could it be?

A week went by, and he had forgotten about the letter and cake. But they, apparently, did now forget about him.

“Another?” he blushed down at the box on the ground. He didn’t even need to look inside to know what it was. Hop looked around, hoping to find a sign of somebody around the entrance to the lab. Nothing but Rookidees. He sighed, kneeling down to pick up the gift. I don’t even know if Lee gets stuff like this, he thought to himself, pulling the simple envelope up to investigate. Maybe they left a clue this time…

But, just like before, there was no discernable way to figure out the identity of the mysterious benefactor. He opted to hide from Sonia’s teasing, hiding himself up in one of the numerous study rooms that the main laboratory had to offer. The letter was similar to before; beautifully crafted words of admiration, noting the many qualities of the assistant that he hardly noticed himself. He could note, though, a strange familiarity in the writing. ‘I had never known shame until I saw myself in your teary eyes.’ So obviously they knew each other - unless this was all metaphorical. Hop was never good at metaphorical writing. But Hop didn’t exactly interact with a lot of people, these days. He’d occasionally get to hang out with Gloria if she had time off; maybe it was her? He shook his head at that. The girl wouldn’t know bashful if it hit her in the face. A shy confession like this definitely wasn’t her style. Maybe Marnie. He hoped not. They never really spoke to each other, even during the gym challenge, but that was mainly because Hop wasn’t sure if he was more scared of her or her brother. But fancy homemade cakes didn’t really fit her style, either, so that was out. Who else did he know?

Not really anybody else. He sighed, skimming through the letter a few times more before resigning to just eat the cake and return to work. It was, unfortunately, amazingly delicious. Better than even the fancy cakes up in Wyndon. Whoever this person was, they really knew how to bake; Hop just wished he could finally figure it out so he could thank them or something. Do you even thank secret admirers? How does all this stuff work out? Definitely too much for him to figure out.

Four weeks later, and it became an unfortunate addition to his routine. Friday would roll around, and Hop would eagerly rush through his work without even noticing. Sometimes Sonia would comment, other times, she’d just wink and saunter off. Hop tried not to think about it too much - anticipation really did get annoying, even for him - so he sought to busy his mind with work until the time came upon him.

The clock ticked on, and so did the day. Before he knew it, the sun was setting, the whistle of the tea kettle from the kitchen signalling the end of his shift. Sonia called him over to join her for some tea, usually her way of saying thanks for all his hard work. He had barely walked into the room when Sonia leaned onto the kitchen table, curious eyes searching for some juicy gossip from his own golden irises.

“So, I noticed that we didn’t get any… special deliveries today.”

Hop blinked.

“Huh, so that’s what felt off today,” he tried to say, hoping that he could save face just a little bit.

“So? Does that mean that you’ve figured out who they are?”

The teenage boy grimaced, running a hand across the nape of his neck. It was a little sore today; maybe he slept wrong?

“Uh, well, uh… not really.”

“Huh?” Sonia slapped the table. Oh no, it’s happening - she’s getting worked up over something that doesn’t involve her again. “You’re serious?! Your secret lover didn’t send you a gift today and you don’t know why?!”

“W-well, th-they’re, uh, not really, um - we’re not -”

“Hop this is serious!” she lunged for him, grabbing his shoulders. “This person has faithfully been leaving you sweet gifts every Friday for over a month, now, and just magically stops doing it out of nowhere?!”

“Maybe… they forgot?”

“TRUE LOVE DOESN’T FORGET, HOP!”

This lady really needs to lay off the chick-flicks. But Hop had learned the hard way never to point out stuff like that when Sonia was in one of her manic moods.

“S-sure it doesn’t…” he tried not to sound creeped out.

Sonia sighed, putting her hands on her hips as she sent him a sassy pout.

“I’ve seen this in a show once - the person with unrequited feelings reaches out in their own way to their crush, but then something bad happens to them, so the crush has to be the one to help them.”

“I don’t think that’s what happens in real life -” Sonia shot him another look and he promptly shut up.

“Yes, of course!” she smiled, ignoring Hop’s previous comment entirely. “You have to find out who your secret admirer is quickly or else something terrible might happen to them - if it already hasn’t! Maybe they’ve been hit by a car! Or were kidnapped! Or are terminally ill and only your love can save them!”

“How are you a nationally-acclaimed pokemon professor?” he muttered under his breath.

“It’s settled then - here’s your mission, Assistant Hop! Figure out who can bake a cake like that, and you’ll find your true love! Easy, right?”

Hop nodded, not really understanding what she was saying, but was desperate enough to just lie to escape her nonsense. She was probably just overexaggerating like always, but he also didn’t want this mysterious person to be hurt. Maybe something did happen to interrupt the once steady flow of kind words and delicious foods? And thus began his search.

As terrible as it felt, the first person Hop went to was Leon. His big brother no doubt had handled situations like this before, so Hop swallowed his pride and approached his brother on the subject. Once he finally got Leon to stop laughing, he explained the whole situation from start to finish.

“Well,” Leon stroked his chin, at least pretending to seem semi-serious, “I don’t think I personally know any high-caliber bakers. But if I’m remembering things correctly, I think Opal is said to have legendary baking skills that practically nobody can compare to.”

Hop grimaced, but Leon quickly waved his hands before his brother full-on threw up everywhere at the thought of Opal being his secret admirer.

“No, no, no! I’m not saying she’s the one sending them - I’m just wondering if she taught the person who’s sending them.”

Hop leaned back a bit, trying to think. He didn’t really know too much about Ms. Opal (other than that she was an eccentric rich lady at an unknown age who seems to enjoy dressing people in bright shades of pink). But if there was a chance that she knew the identity of his mysterious benefactor, then he was willing to investigate a bit further. He opened his mouth to thank his brother, but a dark scowl suddenly flashed over his features. Leon blinked.

“Uh… everything alright there?”

“I just remembered,” Hop growled, “that if I want to even get close to Opal, then I’ll have to see that jerk again.”

“Who, Bede? Like I’ve said a thousand times, don’t worry too much about him. I hear he’s really mellowed out these days. Maybe all that pink finally seeped into his brain.”

Hop scoffed, but otherwise kept all his venomous comments at bay. He thanked his brother for the help and hurried out the door, making his way towards Ballonlea.

Ballonlea was always a difficult place to get to. A big contributor to that issue was due to Glimtangle Forest, which was basically a mystical maze that had posed as a major threat to countless gym challengers as well as general travellers for years. This is why most people opt for a flying taxi whenever they need to get to the city, but even then, some mystical fairy nonsense occasionally will cause a detour for whatever poor soul happened to be flying over the forest. Thankfully for Hop, this wasn’t the case, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t nervously twiddling his thumbs at the apprehension of having to navigate that nonsensical forest when in such a hurry.

He jumped out of the taxi, offering a berry to the Corviknight before making his normal dash for one of the most ornate buildings in the quaint town. It wasn’t hard to find Ms. Opal’s house when it was so amazingly decorated - it was borderline gaudy with the amount of pinks and purples passionately strewn about the house’s complex design. He wasted no time, bounding up the fancy front steps, grabbing the old-fashioned door knocker, and knocked. A few breaths passed him by as he shoved his sweaty hands into his pockets. What was he even nervous for?

After a couple of moments, the door opened, revealing the ever intimidating Ms. Opal, the now retired fairy-type gym leader of Ballonlea.

“Well, if this isn’t a… pleasant surprise,” she smirked, seeming almost deviously pleased in the teen’s awkwardness. “Running errands for the professor today, hm?”

“A-actually, I, um….” Hop took a deep breath and gathered his resolve. “I’m actually here to ask you something.”

She nodded, tapping the ground a couple times with her cane.

“Of course you are. Come inside, then.”

Before the assistant could protest, the elderly woman was already shuffling away deeper into the depths of the house. Hop could only sigh as he followed behind her. It was painfully frustrating; she took tiny steps and dragged her feet along the somehow pristine wooden floors, so Hop had to take the world’s slowest pace at the constant protest of his long legs. But over the course of a year, he’d managed to attain some semblance of calm, deciding that it would be best if he didn’t complain too much around the person he was seeking assistance from. Once he got the information he wanted, he could run around to his little heart’s content.

Eventually, Ms. Opal halted just before a beautiful white staircase, spiraling all the way up into the rather tall ceiling above.

“So, tell me,” she mused through sharp, invasive eyes, “what was it you were hoping to ask of me?”

“I… was curious to know if, um… Well, uh… if you happened to have any knowledge in baking. L-like, y’know, a cake, or something…”

Opal’s eyebrows twitched upwards just a centimeter. She brought a hand to her chin in dramatic thought.

“In my earlier days, I was quite proficient at it. But I don’t bake nearly as much as I used to.”

“Then… is there, um, a chance that you might have taught someone how to bake like you?”

She paused, staring intently at the boy with an amused expression. Hop was beginning to wonder if he really wanted the answer to this question. Before he could make up his mind to flee, she let out a small chuckle.

“Ah, but of course. My protege has been trained in everything I know how to teach. Head up these stairs and you’ll find your secret admirer.”

A stone of dread sank into the depths of his gut. Maybe Ms. Opal had more apprentices? It definitely couldn’t be the person he was thinking it was, right? No, that would be silly - impossible, even. But there seemed to be no turning back now. Hop swallowed his fears and slowly began his way up the stairs, trying to ignore the apprehensions racing through his fingertips.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Bede rolled onto his other side, desperate to find a position that made existence a little less agonizing. A dreadful fever had overtaken his body, unrelenting in its rage for the past four days, leaving the normally active youth bedridden the entire time. Hatterene was on nursing duty, constantly checking her trainer’s temperature and switching out his face towel in an attempt to ease the fever. Sylveon was stubbornly nestled under the covers, desperate to get as close to his body as physically possible. Not like Bede could really scold it even if he wanted to; he didn’t want to waste his energy on pointless yelling. So, he reluctantly stayed in bed, allowing his devoted pokemon to care for him while he waited for his body to recover. But a knock on the door earned a frustrated grown from him.

“What?” he hissed, trying to speak through a throat chalked full of phlegm. Hatterene nudged his shoulder, reminding him to watch his emotions. She was a sensitive thing, that Hatterene. Bede sat up, watching the door open and fully expecting to get an earful from that old woman again. So it’s safe to say that his heart entirely stopped when he saw Hop sheepishly shuffle in, wringing his hands nervously before his chest.

This… this couldn’t really be happening, right? No - he must be dreaming. Yes, that’s it. This was just a fever-induced nightmare. Bede would wake up in a moment’s notice and be in his bed once more, alone with only the company of his pokemon to rely on, just like always. Just like always. Just like always.

“Um…” Hop kept his eyes on the ground, brows knitted tightly together. Bede wasn’t sure if the boy was frustrated, sad, or confused. It all just looked like a blur of emotions constantly shifting across the assistant’s tan face. “... It’s… been a while.”

Bede opened his mouth with full intent to say words, but none dared to come to fruition. So he closed his mouth, pushing his aching body up to his elbows. How pathetic he felt right now, sick in bed with this person who confused him so annoying bad being unable to look at him. Maybe it would be best if Hop just left. At least then Bede would be familiar with the feelings in his chest. He didn’t know what he was feeling right now.

“So…” Hop cleared his throat, attempting to meet Bede’s eyes, but quickly looked off to the side. “I… I just wanted to ask if… if you’re… um…”

The light-haired boy felt a bead of sweat tumble down his brow. Surely it was from the heat of the fever, right? No way was he this nervous. No, no, Bede always kept his cool. Especially when beign confronted by the person he sort of kinda maybe almost possibly liked. Not that he did, anyway. Because that would be stupid. And Bede definitely wasn’t stupid. Right?

Hop sucked in a sharp breath of air, balling his hands into fists as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Are you the person who’s been sending me those gifts?” he threw the words out, trying to ignore his own flurry of conflicting emotions going through him at the moment. He didn’t know how to feel about either possible answer. Could he be happy with either one?

The intensity in the air rose a few degrees, making every breath laborious. Bede glanced towards Hatterene for some sort of support - he didn’t really know why he did. She smiled back at him, cooing a few unintelligible sounds.

Well, by the gym leader’s logic, if Hop was destined to abandon him like everybody else, then it really didn’t matter if he knew the truth, then, right? It didn’t matter of Hop found out this terribly dreadful secret Bede’s been carrying with him for over a year. According to the assistant, Bede was still Bede. Cold. Egotistical. Conniving. After everything that had happened, it was ridiculous to hope that Hop could ever forgive Bede, and nobody could blame him. And even if he could, it wouldn’t last. No, Bede would surely find some way to screw things up, or wouldn’t be enough to make Hop happy in any condition. Hop would leave, and eventually Ms. Opal will leave, just like the chairman and his foster parents and his parents that never came back and

“So what if I am?” the words hissed past his lips, far more venomous than he meant. Oh well. It didn’t matter. The outcome would be the same, anyways.

Hop flinched back a bit at the sharpness of the other boy’s words, but his conflicted expression remained stable. Once he collected himself, he took another deep breath. Slower, this time, as if to savor the taste of oxygen flowing through his lungs.

“Why?”

A painfully simple question. Remarkably, it was also one Bede hadn’t really expected. He really should have thought this through.

Why did he bake those cakes? Why did he write those letters? Why did he send them to Hop? Why did he feel this way? Why, why, why?

It eventually became obvious that Hop wasn’t going to hear a response. Bede had opted to glaring holes into his duvet, fingers tangling themselves within the fluffy pink fabric. Ah, pink, the color of so many things: sweetness, innocent attraction, adoration, and - evidently - embarrassment. There was no way to hide such a shade from the plush of his cheeks. How bothersome.

“... Did you really mean what you said in those letters?”

Bede looked back over at Hop for the briefest of moments, and immediately wished that he hadn’t. Much confliction remained, but there was something else there, now, amid the tempest of clashing feelings depicted on the teen’s face. Perhaps Bede really was having a fever dream. No way there was actually a bit of hopefulness in Hop’s eyes.

Maybe that’s what pulled out a strange sentence from Bede’s mouth.

“Every word.”

Hop shied his gaze away, seeming a bit more bashful as he rubbed the nape of his neck. Now Bede was really confident that he was the color of embarrassment. Maybe a bit too red though. The assistant stuttered an awkward laugh, trying to ease the thickness of the air while Bede shifted a bit more upright. Sylveon didn’t appreciate that motion, evidently, and crawled onto it’s trainer’s lap. Instinctively, Bede ran his fingers through the creature’s fur, desperate to distract himself from his non-fever related warmth. He looked back over to Hop, who seemed to still be processing the gravity of those words, and another sentence slipped out without Bede’s permission.

“Are you going to leave?”

Hop met his gaze, surprised.

“What?”

Bede took a small breath, losing just the smallest smidge of confidence in his words as he took the initiative to repeat them.

“... I said, are you going to leave?”

“Do you want me to?”

Here it was. The moment he had been unknowingly dreading. If he says yes, then Hop will no doubt walk away forever, and Bede would be back in his element of loneliness. Or, he says no, and takes a risk he never expected to take willingly. He would be clueless, a Magicarp out of water, left with nothing to keep himself steady but the hope that Hop would guide him through the confusion. Could he really take that chance?

“... No.”

Bede couldn’t keep his eyes on Hop. This was it, the deepest layer of his person; everything he was had been revealed in only a handful of words, leaving nothing but a fearful child afraid of being left behind by the people he loved. And now Hop could see the truth behind Bede’s every action and every word. This was blind faith in its simplest form, the gym leader unsure of what exactly he was hoping for.

“Okay.”

His eyes shot back up, genuine surprise (and a tinge of fear) written all over his flustered face. Hop stared back at him, hands shoved deep in his pockets with a curious expression on his face. What could that guy be thinking when he stared at Bede so intently?

“O-okay? Okay… what?” Bede’s voice died down syllable by syllable, reduced to nothing but a faint whisper by the end of it. Hop gave a timid smile. Perhaps a bit afraid, but a little hopeful, still. Such a strange expression on such a tender face.

“I’ll stay.”

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Doctor Who: Ranking the Master Stories – Which is the Best?

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Roger Delgado looms large over the character of the Master, being simultaneously influential and something of an anomaly: Delgado played the role with a debonair front, but since his death, the character has been less urbane and more desperate, manic and violent. In fact the actor who’s come closest to Delgado’s approach is Eric Roberts, who plays an American version of Delgado’s Master until his performance goes big towards the end of 1996’ ‘The TV Movie’.

Each actor brings different facets to the fore, but after the character’s successful launch in Season 8 we get the tricky balancing act of the returning villain: We know that the character returns because they’re popular (indeed, the reason for their existence was the question ‘What can we do to attract viewers for the season opener?’), but in story terms, this makes them seem increasingly ridiculous. The Master, among all Doctor Who villains, seems especially keen to involve the Doctor. Why do they keep coming back if they’re always defeated?

In recent stories, writers have attempted an explanation for the Master’s behaviour, be it an unspecified insanity or a damaged friendship where each party attempts to bring the other round to their way of thinking. Mostly, though, the Master appears in Doctor Who for a simple reason: a lot of viewers find it fun when the Master appears in Doctor Who, and the Master seems to find it fun when the Master appears in Doctor Who too.

Overall the character has a solid record in the show. Fewer classics than the Daleks, fewer duds than the Cybermen, but a lot of solidly entertaining stories mostly lifted by his presence. Here, then, is my ranking of – give or take – every Master story from the television series.

27. Time-Flight

I’m sure there are redemptive readings of ‘Time-Flight’, and its flaws are more understandable in the context of its production (with the money running out at the end of the series and a shopping list of items to include imposed on writer Peter Grimwade), but the end result is poor.

To contrast Anthony Ainley’s performance with Roger Delgado’s for a second: Delgado always played the Master with a calm veneer, as though his nonsensical schemes were perfectly sensible. As a result, he seemed in control. Ainley plays the role as if they’re not merely sensible but clearly brilliant plans even though they strain credulity. They’re smaller in scale and this makes Ainley’s Master seem tragicomic. He loses control more, there’s a kind of ‘She’s turned the weans against us’ desperation that’s much more apparent in this incarnation.

‘Time-Flight’ is, despite its faults, a poor example of this. While the Master disguises himself as a mystic for no clear reason, his end goal is simply freeing himself from prehistoric Earth. Once he’s discarded his disguise, Ainley’s performance is largely underplayed (especially in contrast with ‘Castrovalva’, earlier in the season). While there’s some camp value in the guest cast, it’s not enough to rescue this from being dull.

26. The Timeless Children

The most urgent problem with this story is not the retcon, it’s that it’s simply boring television. The Doctor is passive, trapped in a prison of exposition, and billions of children on Gallifrey are slaughtered because the Master is furious that he’s descended from the Doctor (the former childhood friend whose life is intertwined with his own, indeed who is frequently defined against). This, for me, doesn’t extend logically from what we know of the characters or indeed the situation and turns Doctor Who into a grimdark slog. Not only is it lacklustre, it feels like someone has cyber-converted the show itself.

Sacha Dhawan (saddled with a Master characterisation usually reserved for when they’re clinging on to life in animalistic desperation) brings out the aggressive and violent side of the character to reflect his rage and genocide, is satisfyingly disparaging of the Lone Cyberman, and is working hard to liven things up. There’s not a lot for him to work with, though. This Master is not a dark mirror of the Doctor, he’s just here to do what the plot needs him to. Sometimes that’s what the Master is there for, to be fair, but usually in stories with much lower stakes.

You realise that the Master is only back because the story needed a big villain to destroy Gallifrey and tell the Doctor about the Timeless Child, and it couldn’t be the Cybermen (because of their other function in the series finale) or the Daleks (been there, done that). Based on the character’s interactions with the Time Lords (most obviously Rassilon in ‘The End of Time’ and the chaos he sows in ‘Trial of a Time Lord’, but Borusa was presumably the Master’s teacher too, and uses him in ‘The Five Doctors’), it’s not completely implausible that the Master would resent them, but the reasons shown thus far inadequately explain the character deliberately committing genocide. Whenever the Master’s been reset previously there’s usually been a clear and coherent motivation. In ‘Deadly Assassin’ he’s dying and furious, in ‘Logopolis’ his pettiness unravels him, and in ‘The Sound of Drums’ he wants to be like the Tenth Doctor. Here though, his motivation just poses more questions.

Things could improve. This story is incomplete and – like a Scottish football fan watching their team in Europe – hope lingers that it might be alright in the end.

25. The King’s Demons

After disguising himself reasonably well in ‘Castrovalva’ and ‘Time-Flight’, here the French Knight with the outrageous accent and surname ‘Estram’ is clearly the Master. His goal is to use a shape-shifting android to stop the Magna Carta being signed. The result is less exciting than it sounds. It’s an amiable enough low-key runaround with some good character moments for the regulars, but you’d be forgiven for thinking this was the plateau of the Master’s descent. Ainley, deprived of a Concorde crew to camp things up, gamely takes on that mantle himself.

24. The Trial of a Time Lord

As with ‘Mark of the Rani’, here we find the show using the Ainley incarnation more knowingly. Here he turns up in the thirteenth of fourteen episodes to interrupt the Doctor’s trial. This is something of a relief, because if there’s a consensus on ‘Trial of a Time Lord’ it’s that the trial scenes are interminable. Then the Master arrives on an Eighties screensaver and just turns the whole thing on its head, casually dropping huge revelations that take a minute to sink in. His presence has a galvanising effect, bringing to a head everything that had been stirring thus far in the story. His satisfaction with Gallifrey falling into chaos also ties in nicely to ‘The Five Doctors’ and his later actions in the Time War. The final episode, written in an extremely turbulent situation, doesn’t pay off this thread well (originally the Master was intended to help the Doctor in the Matrix) but that it makes sense at all is impressive given the chaos behind the scenes.

23. Spyfall

The reveal at the end of Part One, in which mild mannered agent O is revealed to be the Master, was exciting on broadcast. It came as a surprise because there’d been so little build up to it, and at the time it seemed extremely unlikely that the Master would come back so soon after their last appearance. In the end, the contrivance that reveals the Master’s presence is indicative of this episode’s larger flaws: as with ‘The Timeless Children’ the character motivations and plotting feel like they’ve been worked backwards from an endpoint. This is not an intrinsically bad way of writing if you have the time and ability to make it work, but here the episode breezes along in the hope you won’t notice the artifice (small things, like the car chase that doesn’t go anywhere, to larger ones like the Master reveal drawing attention to his ludicrously convoluted scheme that involves getting hired and fired by MI6). As it does breeze it isn’t dull, at least, but the promise of Doctor Who doing a spy film with added surprise Master really isn’t fulfilled here.

22. Colony in Space

Possibly the most boring interesting story ever, and one where the Master’s appearance doesn’t lift things. If anything, it implies the Master spends his spare time as a legal official (and to be fair to ‘Spyfall’, it does maintain this tradition of the Master sticking out a day job). Aware that the character’s appearance in every Season 8 story might become predictable, the production team decided he should arrive late in this story. This makes it feel like the Master has simply been added to pad out an underrunning six-parter (and there is a lot of lethargic padding here).

There are some interesting ideas, especially the tension between Doctor Who’s revolutionary side and its conservative one; on the radical side the story clearly sides with the colonists of Uxarieus in the face of the Interplanetary Mining Corporation’s attempts to remove them by force, with initially sympathetic governor Ashe shown to be naïve, while gradually the more active Winton exerts more authority and is proven right when he insists on armed rebellion rather than plodding through legal processes that would inevitably take the IMC’s side (the IMC’s leader, Captain Dent, is a timeless villain – calmly causing and exploiting human misery without qualms).

On the conservative side, this is a story based on British settlers in America and their relationship with the indigenous population. Here we have some British colonists under attack by British intergalactic mining corporations, and throughout everyone refers to the natives of Uxarieus as primitives. It is ultimately revealed that they were once an advanced civilisation, but the Doctor continues using the term. Indeed, he warns the Master that one is about to attack him, knowing the Master will shoot them. This latter example is absolutely in character, and we’ll see in other stories how the Doctor’s blindspot towards the Master is explored in greater detail (indeed, this story also has the Master offering to share his power and use it for good, another thread in a Malcolm Hulke script picked up on later).Considering how padded this story is, though, having no sense of empathy towards or exploration of the Uxarieans’ point of view is a glaring omission.

21. The Time Monster

In many ways ‘The Time Monster’ is crap, with its Very Large performances and a man in a cloth bird costume squawking and flapping gamely. In many ways ‘The Time Monster’ is good, there’s some funny dialogue, great ideas, and a fantastic scene with the Doctor and Master mocking each other in their TARDISes. In many ways ‘The Time Monster’ is hypnotically insane, and you can’t help but admire the way it earnestly presents itself as entirely reasonable; ‘The Time Monster’ straddles the ‘Objectively Crap/Such a hoot’ divide, and is in fact the Master in microcosm with its blend of nonsense, camp, and occasional brutality.

Delgado has now been firmly established as someone who usually lifts a story with his presence, the Master’s routine now a regular and expected part of the programme’s appeal. It’s cosy enough to somehow be endearing despite this clearly being crap on many levels. This is Doctor Who that is extremely comfortable in its own skin; on one hand this involves establishing that the Doctor’s subconscious mind being a source of discomfort for him, and on the other it involves five characters gathering round to laugh at Sergeant Benton’s penis.

20. Castrovalva

‘Castrovalva’ suffers from similar structural problems to ‘Logopolis’, in that the first two episodes are a preamble, and while there’s no lack of good ideas it does feel like the regulars have to go on a long walk to actually arrive in the story. This means we have a lot of good moments (‘Three sir’, ‘With my eyes, no, but in my philosophy’, and the Master being set upon by the Castrovalvans in a nightmarish frieze, as if he’s about to be pulled apart) but there’s little emotional pull as we haven’t spent time with the characters. The idea of people being created by the Master for an elaborate trap and then gaining free will is great, but we’ve only known them for about half an hour so the impact is lessened. The ponderings around ‘if’ in the first half could be better connected with the concepts in the second.

In contrast to the cerebral tone, Ainley is at his hammiest here. Sensing perhaps that the Master improvising an even more elaborate plan than his previous two is stretching credulity, and stuck with Adric and his little pneumatic lift (not a euphemism), Ainley goes big and ends up yelling ‘MY WEB’ while standing like he’s forgotten how to bowl overarm (extremely unlikely given Ainley’s fondness for cricket). He’s also started dressing up again, which is actually done well here but the knowledge of what’s to come makes this foreboding.

‘Castrovalva’ also connects with John Simm’s Master’s misogyny, in that when Nyssa tells him he’s being an idiot he can’t think of a reply so pushes her away, and that he creates a world where the women’s role is to do the cleaning (although that might be partly explained by Christopher Bidmead following ‘Logopolis’ with another world of bearded old science dudes).

19. The Mark of the Rani

In some ways a low point for the Master, but also a relatively good-natured story for Season 22. Here the Master is first seen dressed as a scarecrow, and chuckles at the brilliance of his disguise, as if the Doctor should really expect to find him hiding in a field caked in mud. His plan is to accelerate the industrial revolution so he can use a teched-up Earth as a powerbase.

It’s not that this Master lacks ambition, it’s just that his plans all feel like first drafts. He also plays second fiddle to the title character, with the Rani clearly put out that he’s there at all. Ainley, who regarded a few of his scripts as less than impressive, wasn’t happy at being demoted, but this works for the character. This pettiness is part of the Master now, and so ‘Mark of the Rani’ can be celebrated for finding a tone and a role that makes sense for him, something that invites the audience to indulge him rather than take him too seriously.

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18. The Mind of Evil

The Master is cemented here as an entertaining nonsense. He has a multi-phase plan to start World War III which involves converting a peace conference delegate into the avatar of an alien parasite which has been installed in A Clockwork Orange–style machine in a prison, after which he will take over the planet. Delgado, as ever, plays this as if it’s perfectly straightforward. As with his debut story the Master bites off more than he can chew in his allegiances, and you get the impression he’s not totally serious about global domination and just wants to hang out with the Doctor. Pertwee is at his peak here, rude and abrasive, righteous and enjoyably sarcastic, but also put through the wringer by the Keller Machine (which the Master has apparently invented using the alien parasite).

For all the good work ‘The Mind of Evil’ does with the Doctor and the Master (the idea that the Master’s greatest fear is the Doctor laughing at him ultimately comes to define the character), and with this being a mostly well-made story, it does devolve into an action-orientated (I say ‘devolve’, your mileage may vary) story where the Keller machine is now lethal and capable of teleporting, combined with a Bond movie plot where UNIT find themselves transporting a missile and guarding a peace conference (far from their stated goal of dealing with the odd and unexplained).

There’s a satisfying clash between the horror of the Keller Machine and the sight of prison guards shooting and screaming at what looks like a Nespresso prototype sitting on the floor. This is a good tonal summary of ‘The Mind of Evil’ – a lot of grimness (horrible deaths and genuinely nasty characters) rubbing up against something enjoyably silly.

17. The End of Time

As with ‘The TV Movie’ here the Master get some new and largely inexplicable powers, suddenly craving food and flesh. What John Simm’s stories add is the idea that the Master was driven mad by the constant sound of drums. Here it is revealed that the Time Lords planted it in the eight-year-old Master’s head as a means of escaping the Time War. As with The Timeless Child reveal, this Chosen One storyline lessens the characters for some viewers, limiting the character’s free will and making them less interesting. Russell T. Davies is smarter than that here though.

What works well are the references to the Doctor and Master’s childhood, the brief suggestion that that Master would like to travel with the Doctor without the drumming, the Master and Doctor choosing to save each other and return the Time Lords to their war; the Master rejecting his appointed role of saviour, refusing to have his entire life disrupted. Including the Master here is a good move beyond hype, offering a warped reflection of the departing hero (the fact that the Master’s big plan is grounded in vanity is telling).

It’s a strange mix, because there are clearly great scenes in this story, but the dominant impression of the Master is now being able to fly, shoot lasers from his hands, and occasionally have his flesh go see-through. The latter feels like a call-back to his emaciated state in ‘The Deadly Assassin’ but lacks the physicality.

It feels not dissimilar to ‘Twice Upon a Time’, in that it contains parts of what made the showrunner’s work so good, as well as being a clear sign that it was time to move on.

16. Logopolis

Maybe it’s because I didn’t have the context of its original broadcast, that sense of a Titan of my childhood finally saying goodbye, but – besides a memory of finding the opening episode unnerving on VHS – I have no real sense of this story from a child’s point-of-view. As it is, I can appreciate the ideas in it – a planet of spoken maths that can influence reality (riffing on Clarke’s Third Law), the sense of the Fourth Doctor’s regeneration being inevitable, the scale of the threat involved and that it results from the Master’s attempts at petty revenge rather than a deliberate plan – but I can’t honestly say they’re woven into compelling drama.

I have few objections to silliness in Doctor Who, but I find it hard to get on board with something so ludicrous that thinks it’s incredibly serious.

There are the recursive TARDISes that stop because the Doctor has to go outside for the cliff-hanger, Tegan spending her first story as someone with a child-like fixation on planes, the exciting drama of Adric and the Monitor checking an Excel sheet for errors, and the stunning scene where the Doctor explains that the Master knew he was going to measure a police box by the Barnet bypass because ‘He’s a Time Lord: in many ways we have the same mind’ immediately followed by the Doctor’s idea to get the Master out of his TARDIS by materialising underwater and opening the door. This story thinks itself clever, but judders forward through a series of nonsensical contrivances before cramming the actual story into two episodes.

The first half is stylish nonsense, building up to the reveal of the Master chuckling to himself about ‘cutting the Doctor down to size’ – it’s then you realise that everything he did in the first two episodes was for the sake of a joke that only he can hear, and this pun kills several trillion people. To be fair, this is a brilliant idea, it’s just a shame about the slog to get to this point. The final confrontation is then less ‘Reichenbach Falls’ and more ‘Argument at a Maplin’.

The Master is well played by Antony Ainley in his full debut, and as a child his mocking laughter was genuinely unsettling. As reality unravels, so does he. If he’d killed trillions deliberately, and they knew of his power before dying, he’d be fine, but doing it by mistake without people knowing seems to break him. Mostly there’s the feeling of lost momentum with the character, going from a powerful symbol of evil that corrupted paradise to a man broken by his own banter.

As with Nyssa witnessing the death of her planet, there’s a lot of potential for character drama here that the show wasn’t interested in exploring at the time.

15. The TV Movie

As written, the Master here is a devious, manipulative creature who is willing to destroy an entire planet just to survive. This is extremely solid characterisation, matching what’s gone before. You can also hear Delgado delivering this dialogue (though I’m not sure how he’d respond to ‘you’re also a CGI snake who can shoot multi-purpose venom’).

The shorthand for this Master is Eric Roberts’ big performance in the finale, which does tend to blot out the rest of his acting. Full of smarm and charm, Roberts is mostly downplaying his lines as an American version of Delgado (indeed his costume for the ‘dress for the occasion’ scene was going to be like Delgado’s Nehru jacket), and his line delivery obscures the fact that the final confrontation scene is very well written up until Chang Lee’s death. It’s quite a good summary of the character so far: cunning, persuasive, visually monstrous, driven by survival, then ultimately camp and desperate.

While the Master and Doctor’s rebirths are very well shot, the movie would have worked better without regeneration so we could get more screentime with the new cast, and the final confrontation is the only time the Doctor and Master get to actually talk, which means we only get a broad brushstrokes version of their relationship. Nonetheless the ‘What do you know of last chances?’ ‘More than you’ exchange is fantastic.

14. The Claws of Axos

Bob Baker and Dave Martin’s debut script for the show is busy and full of nightmare-fuel for the viewer, with the Master (who wasn’t in earlier drafts) put into uneasy alliances with UNIT and the Doctor. Briefly he fulfils the role of UNIT’s Chief Scientific Advisor, which is inspired, showing through his interactions with the Brigadier how alike he and the Doctor are.

The first story in which the Master is just grifting and trying to survive rather than being halfway through a devious plan. ‘The Claws of Axos’ wisely tries something different with the Master in the midst of an enjoyably garish romp (Doctor Who will never have this colour palette ever again). There’s some effective body horror, tinges of psychedelia, and a hokey American accent.

It’s all over the place this one, but barrels along with glee and feels like the Pertwee era has relaxed into a lighter mood, albeit one where people are still electrocuted and turned into orange beansprout monsters.

13. Terror of the Autons

We are immediately told that the Master is dangerous, but also not to take him too seriously: one of the first things he does in Doctor Who is kidnap a circus in order to raid a museum.

And so the rest of the story proves: a darkly comic (and famously terrifying) blast which sets out the character of the Master for the rest of the Pertwee era: the delicate balance between the ridiculous and the vicious. Delgado isn’t quite there yet in this story, not fully realising the comic potential in the character and playing things straighter than he would later. One thing he lands immediately is acting as if the Master’s plans are perfectly sensible, bridging the gap between animating murderous chairs/phone cables and suffocating people with plastic daffodils, so that they die uncomprehendingly as they claw at their face.

Therein lies the appeal of Doctor Who, with one of its central tensions being between the mundane and the ridiculous, the cosy and the suffocating. This is exemplified here by a plastic doll coming to life and trying to kill everyone because Captain Yates wanted to make some cocoa.

12. The Dæmons

In which the Master is good-humoured and ostensibly pleasant while trying to summon a demonic alien being, accompanied by a moving stone gargoyle who can vaporise people. The show is well aware of the Master’s impact, to the extent that one of the cliff-hangers features him in danger rather than the Doctor or UNIT.

What his debut season has established is that the Master himself is mostly fun (indeed, often more fun than the Doctor), but the monsters that he brings with him are terrifying. This is true from his first story, in which he brings a barrage of nightmarish ideas to life. Bok, the aforementioned gargoyle in this story, absolutely terrified me as a child. Most of the accompanying monsters in the Pertwee era did, but by tapping into the paranormal and demonic this story has an extra frisson of fear.

I have nothing new to say about ‘The Dæmons’: it’s the first Doctor Who story to mine the works of Erich van Daniken and it does it well, the Doctor is a dick in it, the resolution with Jo’s self-sacrifice is weak, it’s an episode too long, but also it’s got Nick Courtney effortlessly winning every scene he’s in, which helps a lot.

11. The Five Doctors

This is a story that plays to Ainley’s strengths, and he delivers. No other Master is as good at looking pleased with themselves, so when the Master is having a mission pitched to him by the High Council of Time Lords Ainley’s face is priceless. He’s present, and enjoying himself immensely, disdainful of the upper echelons of the society he escaped.

Then, when he attempts to persuade the Doctors that he’s there to help, the fact they all immediately assume he’s trying to trick them makes him entertainingly frustrated. Terrance Dicks’ script plays to the former friendship between the two characters, and the Master feels more like his old self before the Brigadier dispatches him with a cathartic biff. His brief alliance with and inevitable betrayal of the Cybermen is something you can imagine Delgado delivering, while also highlighting the difference in the two incarnations. Delgado would say ‘Your loyal servant’ with confidence, and find the ‘driving sheep across minefields’ line drily amusing. Ainley feels venal and nasty in these scenes, more like a childhood bully trying not to get hit. That he ultimately does is a lovely pay-off.

10. The Sea Devils

A somewhat padded Pertwee six-parter? With much of the padding being fight scenes with lots of guns and stuntmen flipping everywhere? With the Doctor being rude to everyone? And a meddling Civil Servant, Jo being plucky and resourceful, and the Master allying himself with a group that betrays him? With Malcolm ‘Mac’ ‘Incredible’ Hulke subtly undermining the entire thing? It’s like coming back to your old local and finding nothing has changed while you understand it better than ever.

Trenchard, in charge of the Master’s prison, is a relic of Empire and friends with Captain Hart – the highest ranking Naval officer we meet – who is clearly sad when he is killed. this story may have been made with the co-operation of the Navy but Hulke implies an old boys’ club which the Doctor breezes into and disrupts (but he is no longer averse to the military’s involvement as he was in ‘The Silurians’- it’s not clear whether it’s his relationship with UNIT or the Master that has changed his mind here – is he now used to having military support or does he deem it necessary due to the Master’s presence?).

Hulke, being one of the better writers of character the show had at this point, draws out his characters extremely well and deepens the Doctor and Master’s relationship by mentioning their past in more detail (a lot of what Steven Moffat developed in Series 8 – 10 was inspired by Hulke). Delgado briefly departs from the cosiness of this story by snapping in rage at a guard he’s attacking, letting the affable façade drop just for a second to show the fury beneath it all. It’s a small moment, but it’s something that will be built on for many years to come.

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9. Frontier in Space

In some ways, this is just a ridiculously long pre-credits sequence for ‘Planet of the Daleks’, but there’s just something incredibly endearing about Doctor Who attempting a space opera, complete with hyperdrives and space walks. The genius move is giving it to Malcolm Hulke, who fleshes out his characters more than most and manages to use genre cliches to achieve this. There’s a great gag where the Doctor tries to convince the Earth authorities that a war with the Draconians is being engineered, only to be captured by the Draconians who put him through the exact same rigmarole.

This is also Roger Delgado’s final story before his tragic death, and he arrives delightfully, walking into Jo’s prison cell and saying ‘Let me take you away from all this’. He’s also, after ‘Colony in Space’, taken another day job, this time as a commissioner from Sirius IV. Hulke is clearly determined to explain what the character gets up to on his days off, and the repetition both underlines how static the character has been (especially in contrast to Jo Grant) but also functions as something of a last hurrah.

The dialogue is absolutely superb throughout, which is ideal because not a lot actually happens in this story. However it doesn’t really matter because Jo, the Doctor and the Master are so established that it’s great fun watching them all riff off each other, with Jo resisting the Master’s hypnotism and going on a weary semi-ironic monologue about her day-to-day life at UNIT, the Doctor having a whale of time with political prisoners, and the Master dropping bon mots left, right and centre. There’s a lot of great lines here, so I don’t really mind the repeated capture/escape/capture padding because everyone’s having such fun that it’s just a joy spending time with them.

8. The Magician’s Apprentice / The Witch’s Familiar

Opening a series with a character piece semi-sequel to a 1975 story shouldn’t work this well, however there’s definitely a sense of offering up shiny things to distract us from setting up other stories. The ending also happens in something of a rush. Nonetheless, I’m a big fan.

This story is interesting in terms of how inward looking it is. All the components involved have been established since 2005 and are explained in-story, but it’s still a demand that can limit the audience. So while I like this story, it does rather confirm that ultimately, making Doctor Who that’s right up my street isn’t a valid long-term strategy. However, if you are going to do a story steeped in lore, this is a good way of doing it: using the past as a foundation rather than trying to recreate it. Here Steven Moffat builds a lot: the Twelfth Doctor’s character softens based on his past few stories, Missy and Davros return and their relationships with the Doctor are explored, the actual experience of being a Dalek is expanded on (Rob Shearman’s ‘Dalek’ novelisation goes further if you’re into that), and the Hybrid arc is set up.

Previously in a ‘Ranking the Dalek Stories’ article I mentioned how ‘Into the Dalek’ felt like a story needed to establish that series’ themes, and didn’t do enough to integrate this with a good Dalek story. Here, though, the themes are woven more subtly in the episodes and less so in their titles. They’re also more interesting ones than ‘Fellas, is it bad to hate genocidal cyborgs?’

In the swirl of character building we have Missy essentially being the Doctor, exploring Skaro with her companion. Clara takes this role and has a terrible time as a result. As with the Doctor’s conversation with Davros, this highlights uncomfortable similarities: yes, Clara is literally pushed into danger while Missy has a secret plan for her, but it’s not like the Doctor hasn’t done similar over the years.

7. Planet of Fire

Considering all the tasks it has to do (introduce a new companion, write out two existing companions, using Lanzarote for location filming, and provide a potential exit for Anthony Ainley’s Master), ‘Planet of Fire’ is ultimately rather impressive. It suffers from an uneventful first episode (roughly 80% setup and 20% dodgy American accents), but once the Master arrives it livens up considerably.

With the Master controlling Kamelion, a shape-shifting android, remotely Ainley gives different performances for the actual Master and the Kamelion-Master, the latter more controlled. He’s also having fun here (his little smile after Peri responds to ‘I am the Master’ with ‘So what?’ is great) The Kamelion-Master, in a black suit and shirt combo (which suits him better than his usual outfit), seems more pragmatic and violent. It actually works for Ainley’s Master to be less threatening than a robot version of himself. Bent on survival, this Master has a better motivation than usual and the writing is layered: when he realises he’s in trouble in the final episode he switches instantly to pleading for his life and futile rage as the Doctor stares, either unable or unwilling to help him. There are emotional beats like this throughout the story which makes it fit well with post-2005 Doctor Who.

The rest of ‘Planet of Fire’ – as with writer Peter Grimwade’s previous script ‘Mawdryn Undead’ – has a knack for character lacking in many Fifth Doctor stories. As well as being a strong outing for the Master he writes Turlough out well and introduces Peri as a flawed but brave companion who clearly had a lot of potential. These arcs all intersect with each other, as well as the religious fundamentalism story (watered down in development), producing clear emotional journeys and an underrated gem.

6. Utopia / The Sound of Drums / Last of the Time Lords

Delgado’s Master was very specifically an inversion of Jon Pertwee’s Doctor: both of them were geniuses, one was grumpy and rude and the other suave and funny. The rude one tended to save the Earth, the funny one tried to subjugate or destroy it. John Simm’s Master isn’t an inversion of David Tennant’s Doctor so much as a warped reflection – they’re both quick-talking, charismatic and alluring figures, but while this Doctor is dangerous because he doesn’t notice the power he has over people, this Master is dangerous because he absolutely does.

It’s worth noting on the character’s reintroduction that Russell T. Davies dispensed with the kind of low-key plan that is clearly doomed to failure from the start, and instead showed the full realisation of the Master getting what he wanted coupled with the most cartoonish version of the character we’d seen: Simm went bigger than Tennant, and as Ten is a dangerous enough figure already it made sense to exaggerate this. While some fans wanted another Delgado, we got someone building on Ainley and Roberts’ over-the-topness while still feeling in control of his plans.

The character’s return was also tremendously exciting on broadcast. The impact that ‘Utopia’ had especially was huge, and Derek Jacobi left fans wanting more after his brief appearance as the Master (Hey, Big Finish Twitter person: here’s your angle if you want to retweet this). After the endearingly dated urban thriller stylings of the middle episode, ‘Last of the Time Lords’ is a really bleak episode that doesn’t quite stick the landing: the idea behind the floating Doctor offering forgiveness rather than vengeance is good, although I’m not sure it’s realised as well as it could be, and there’s an extra fight scene that adds nothing and loses momentum. The Simm Master is kept at a distance from the Tenth Doctor too, mostly speaking through phone or radio. The aged and shrunken Doctor is a misstep in terms of limiting their interactions, though the phone call we do get includes some fun nods to slash fic.

5. Survival

Rona Munro writes Ace and people her age with more verisimilitude than the surrounding stories, and she brings that same level of characterisation to the Master. Here he’s struggling against the animalistic power of a planet and plotting to escape. Ainley commits to the savagery and relishes the opportunities to be nasty.

What’s especially well written here is that this is still clearly the Master of ‘Time-Flight’, ‘The King’s Demons’ and ‘The Mark of the Rani’ – yes, he’s desperately trying to survive here and that shows him as more threatening than usual, but what’s equally important is when he says ‘It nearly beat me. Such a simple brutal power’, and then immediately takes the Doctor back to the planet, now engulfed in flames, and tries to kill him. It has beaten him. He’s lost to it. He even refuses to escape (‘We can’t go, not this time’) and is ready to die. This is the last we’ll see of Ainley in the role on TV (his last performance in the role, from a mid-Nineties computer game, can be found on this story’s DVD extras), going out with the acknowledgement that this Master is a tragic figure, he’s out of silly plans and costumes, now all that he has left is the violence that was latent within him – previously seen in…

4. The Deadly Assassin

Writer Robert Holmes hadn’t written for the Master since the character’s first story, and since then the character’s sadism had been downplayed. Here, after the death of Roger Delgado, Holmes elected to dispense with Delgado’s calm and suave persona, with the Master now a Grim-Reaper-like figure, still hypnotic but now without any pretence of reason: a creature of pure spite. That moment of jarring rage from ‘The Sea Devils’? That’s on the surface now. This, combined with his design for life, makes his plan seem more vicious than usual: simply to survive he will set off a chain of events that will destroy Gallifrey and hundreds of other planets. We’ve gone from the warped friendship of Delgado and Pertwee’s characters to explicitly stated hatred here.

The story does feature Holmes’ main weakness, in that after the fantastic world building, dialogue and horror, it all ends rather swiftly with the Doctor physically dominating the villain. What we do get here, though, is an almost casual rewriting of the lore of the series in a gripping and atypical story (that some fans hated at the time), and the successful recasting of the Master. What’s more, the character can now be revisited as this nightmarish figure or as another more Delgado-like figure, his scope has widened. What no one was expecting, though, was bringing the Master back as an almost primal force.

3. The Keeper of Traken

I know what you’re thinking. Putting this story ahead of ‘The Deadly Assassin’ is madness. Well, that’s subjective opinions for you. I think it’s fair to say that ‘The Deadly Assassin’ is a more solidly realised production than ‘The Keeper of Traken’, but I prefer the ideas in the latter and so it’s slightly ahead for me (and the ideas are still well realised).

We’ve seen from his debut onwards that the Master arrives in a location or organisation and brings it under his influence (the village in ‘The Dæmons’, the Matrix in ‘The Deadly Assassin’), but here we see him corrupt an entire civilisation. What’s more, it’s a fairy tale of a place, reputedly somewhere ‘evil just shrivelled up and died’ (to which the Doctor adds enigmatically ‘Maybe that’s why I never went there’).

I’m not 100% behind the more mythic versions of the Master (such as Joe Lidster’s Big Finish play ‘Master’, which is a great piece of work in itself but not one I keep in my headcanon). This could be one of them, with the Master a being of such purest evil that he infects and destroys the fairy tale kingdom.

Instead Johnny Byrne’s story shows Traken with a fairy tale’s darkness and decay, begging the the question of how much of Traken’s fall is down to the Master and how much of it is due to their own complacency (Traken’s Consuls are old and bickering. The youngest is clearly an idiot. They seem distant from their people). It seems the Master’s arrival exacerbates the collapse rather than causes it. This level of power likely comes from the original script without the Master, the character fulfilling a role created for something new, but it still fits with the ‘Deadly Assassin’ version who plays long games motivated purely by survival and spite.

And he capitalises on a very human fear, that of Kassia not wanting her new husband Tremas to take over as the titular keeper so that she will barely see him again. The main weak point of this story is that Doctor Who was not in a position to really commit to the heart-breaking ideas in this story (technobabble yes, but not as much pathos as there should be), especially the Master’s abrupt takeover of Tremas’ body.

As a child I found the final possession scene underwhelming, but the bit where the Master takes control of the Doctor is chilling. You understood that something extremely serious was happening. Tom Baker, it must be said, is exceptional here, especially when he shames Tremas (who doesn’t seem too fussed by the possession of his new wife) into helping him.

This story has a rich setup with good motivations for drama, and balances this with a more mythic quality. This is a significant development for the character, to become an evil so pervasive it manifests as rapid societal decay. Fortunately if there are two things Doctor Who fans are good at dealing with, it’s symbolism in storytelling and change.

2. Dark Water / Death in Heaven

Missy is something of a patchwork creation by necessity. In some respects she’s an evolution of John Simm’s Master, a manic figure concocting season finale-scale schemes and building on the Tenth Doctor’s frustration that they aren’t friends. She also evokes Peter Pratt’s Master in terms of sadism, killing a fair few of the guest cast, including some unexpected ones (and for a while it looks like she’s killed Kate Lethbridge-Stewart). She’s also reminiscent of Delgado, not necessarily in Michelle Gomez’ performance but in the sense that she’s largely in control and is written and cast as an inversion of the Doctor (Capaldi is irascible, seemingly heartless and mostly contained, whereas Gomez buzzes with childlike energy and revels in cruelty). From here, Moffat starts building towards the ends of Series 9 and 10.

Two things separate Missy from other incarnations: firstly there’s Michelle Gomez, a unique performer who varies the size of her performance in interesting ways, and secondly there’s explicit vocalisation of past suggestions that the Master does what they do as a warped gesture of friendship. This makes the character suddenly and deliberately tragic and strangely relatable: we’ve all been in difficult relationships where we try to get someone else’s attention, but none of us have been driven to an unspecified insanity by virtue of a constant drumming sound implanted by the resurrected founder of our entire society. As an explanation for all of the Master’s behaviour it’s rather neat, while also trying something different with the season finale: the grand plan isn’t to conquer the world (as with ‘Logopolis’ a colossal death toll is a side effect).

It’s Moffat’s grimmest finale – atypically no happy ending here – but if it hadn’t worked then there wouldn’t have been such solid foundations for what followed.

1. World Enough and Time / The Doctor Falls

Series 10 is arguably one long Master story, as Series 1 is one long Dalek story, which is not only true but also a handy excuse for not wanting to watch ‘The Lie of the Land’. Missy’s story is initially told around the edges of the episodes, and as a result these short scenes are to the point and occasionally clunky while laying foundations for the finale. Fortunately the finale is superb.

We are shown the relationship between the Doctor and the Master as a tragedy spanning millennia: ‘She’s the only person that I’ve ever met who’s even remotely like me’, and so the Doctor’s hope that the Master can be the friend he remembers trumps Bill’s fears. And Bill is shot. It harks right back to the Doctor remarking – after all the death and carnage in ‘Terror of the Autons’ – that’s he’s rather looking forward to their rivalry. The Doctor has a blind spot where the Master is concerned, and it kills people.

It’s impossible to say how well the John Simm reveal would have worked if his presence hadn’t already been announced, but nonetheless he does great work as both Razor and a Master who represents pretty much all other incarnations except Delgado (not unlike the War Doctor standing in for all the original run’s Doctors in ‘The Day of the Doctor’). Steven Moffat builds on the way Simm’s Master delights in pure nastiness but continues to be cruel when there’s no joy in it for him. His is a Master abandoned by his people and his friend, very much feeling it is him against the universe.

In contrast, Moffat had been re-establishing the sense of friendship present between Delgado and Pertwee’s characters with Missy and 12. Delgado’s planned final story was planned to reveal the Doctor and the Master as two aspects of the same person, with the Master ultimately dying in an explosion that saved the Doctor’s life (with it remaining ambiguous whether this was a deliberate sacrifice). It feels like Moffat took inspiration from this, with the resulting story of a broken friendship and the cost of restoring it: Bill’s conversion to a Cyberman, the Doctor’s words – for once – cutting through to the Master, who tries and fails to escape her past. Part of her would rather die than be friends with the Doctor (as Simm’s Master also did in Series 3).

It’s spoilt slightly by Simm commenting that this is their perfect ending, which feels like it’s obvious without being spelled out, but on the other hand he does have a point. If you were going to kill off the Master, it’s hard to see past this as their ideal conclusion.

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ufonaut · 3 years

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Prompt: Alive!Alan has his two kids, and lives in BV with everyone else. Jen, probably not Todd lbr, is on the same team as Artemis, and Larry makes it his business to try to land this hot blond who is obviously ignoring him.

had to change some stuff around so its a lil bit closer to canon, alan doesnt live in bv etc. post s1 finale

---

The diner is a Blue Valley original, must’ve been kicking around for years long before Jordan had made it into town all starry-eyed and coming off the heels of the JSA’s miraculous defeat. Hell, it’s probably why he’s chosen Nowhere, Nebraska as their base of operations in the first place -- Jordan’s spent his whole life nursing a chronic tendency to fall for that Norman Rockwell, All-American bullshit of a world that never was.

Larry doesn’t get the specifics of it, doesn’t like the diner much either no matter the rave reviews that keep getting thrown his way from everyone around and rare visitors alike. It’s not some health freak thing, though Larry’s under the firm impression that it’s his own business if that was the case, but rather the constant reminder of what this town with its Little House on the Prairie sensibilities isn’t.

It’s no Gotham, for a start.

Now, if going down to the diner meant getting served by a relic of a waitress that’s been no doubt chain-smoking since early childhood and the whole place smelled like it’d been deep-fried twice over, Larry would be all for it. That’s a diner. It’s Gotham tradition not to trust any restaurant that thinks itself above being a literal hole-in-the-wall.

As luck would have it, Larry’s walking past the offending place just now because Blue Valley believes in having every single business on a literal Main Street like it’s yet to move on past the 1900s. He’s on his way to Ripped City, which does sweeten the deal most mornings, and his light jog is accompanied by this fascinating internal monologue that comes to an abrupt and sudden stop in the face of the impossible. Larry stops in his tracks.

“No freakin’ way,” he mumbles and takes out his earbuds in what he’d call one of those instinctively idiotic attempts to see better. Wasting no time in laughing at himself, Larry steps closer to the diner’s window and squints at a reality he doesn’t-- can’t make sense of.

Fact of the matter is that he’s seen his fair share of heroes. There’s nothing humiliating about a defeat at the hands of the JSA Jr. when that used to be par for the course in the heyday of the real Justice Society of America. It’s probably why Larry’s bounced back quick enough, decidedly in action a couple months after that momentous occasion when he and Paula had decided there’s no real reason to put Artemis through the stress of changing schools after all.

The ISA is on something of a hiatus, sure, but Larry suspects an extended break will do Jordan some good whenever he finally decides to come outta hiding and, if nothing else, they could do with a less neurotic would-be leader. As always, he’s pleasantly willing to see it through out of a sense of novelty.

Point being, other than his own prevailing existence, Larry doesn’t see any reason for any big shots to be hanging around their neck of the woods and he doesn’t see any reason for dead men to be struggling with a travesty of an apple pie either. It’s not the neon-green teenage girl Larry’s spent these past few minutes staring at, as much of a worthy contender as she is in her drab surroundings.

For the first-- well, it might just be the second time total, Larry walks into the diner with the kind of determination he reserves for the field.

There’s nothing unassuming about the blond man sharing the last booth on the right with the aforementioned teenage girl and a boy with mousy brown hair that can’t be any older than her. Larry would recognise that face anywhere, the roll of his shoulders, his voice. For one thing, no one’s that big. He approaches without thinking, eyes wide at a surprise almost too good to be true.

The Green Lantern looks up halfway through a laugh and says, all traces of amusement fading like they’d never been there to begin with, “You.”

It’s a delight to be recognised. An honour, even. Larry knows his grin’s gone a little manic and finds that he doesn’t mind it in the least. “Me,” he agrees, much more fond than any possible guidelines for the chance meeting of one’s most-likely-deceased nemesis would dictate. Variations on that exact sentiment sort of come spilling out. “Bud, I missed ya so goddamn much, you have no idea how boring it’s been without your nonsense. Jeez, it’s been too long! C’mon, bring it in, Green La--”

Being suddenly faced with the undeniable shock of Green Lantern’s full height gets Larry shutting up like nothing else.

“We’re taking this outside,” Lantern says, as serious as Larry’s ever heard him, and indifferent to the multitude of stares now directed at their little extravaganza, he turns towards the kids to add, “Todd, make sure Jennie doesn’t follow me.”

Past the girl’s indignant hey!, outside seems to amount to the secluded alleyway behind the diner. Larry’s walked by Lantern’s side with no complaints, thrumming with an excitement he remembers well and doesn’t often feel nowadays. He doesn’t bother fighting a continued desire to grin nor appreciative glances over Green Lantern’s form. It’s always nice to mix business with pleasure, it only gets nicer when he finds himself slammed up against the nearest wall.

“Oof, someone’s all worked up.” Larry winks. “Missed me, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re doing here or how you tracked me down but you’re gonna regret it, bud.” The Green Lantern’s eyes are icy blue up-close and Larry’s absurdly reminded of the way frost swallows even the whites of Jordan’s eyes when he lets himself freeze all the way. All the same, even he runs warmer than the present company.

“I live here!” Larry laughs, glances down at the forearm the Lantern’s got pressed hard against his sternum. Something stirs in him. “No, really, I do! My question is, Greenie, what are you doing here?”

Lantern frowns at him, vaguely fascinating in his handsomeness with the way the sun catches in his blond hair and a jawline Old Hollywood can only dream of. Distantly, Larry thinks he’d like to bite him. It’s a thought that comes and goes in the interest of more immediate matters. “I’m looking for my lantern,” he admits, “I heard Stripesy took it.”

“Aw, what’s the matter, pal? Can’t take over satellites without it?”

Oh, Larry’s missed this. No one hovers on the edge like Green Lantern does, he knows that for a fact. Then again, it’s never been wise to taunt him. The smell of ozone taints the air as Larry catches a flicker of green flame along Lantern’s arms for the briefest of moments.

“I can do a lot worse,” is what Lantern settles on and Larry’s grin only widens, wild-eyed with it.

He bites his lip and ruminates on the possibilities. They’re close enough that the woodsy undertone of Green Lantern’s cologne mixes with the scent of that brief show of power, Larry’s even got a couple ideas on how to close the distance between them. “So, are we gonna fuck or what?” he says, blunt as ever. It’s hard not to breathe out a laugh when Lantern jumps back like Larry’s dealt him a particularly low blow. Larry likes to think he spies a flush staining his cheeks.

“Listen, Sportsmaster, you’re not gonna tell anyone you saw me here, alright?” Coming from Green Lantern, who’s turned to leave already, it’s nothing short of an order. “Keep your mouth shut and maybe I won’t be taking it out on you if I can’t find my lantern.”

“Hey, ya know where to find me!”

Larry offers an eager little wave. He’s not, in fact, all that sure the Green Lantern does know where to find him. A problem for the future, then. His smile doesn’t falter.

#ALAN SCOTT #LARRY CROCK #SPORTSMASTER #STARGIRL #GREEN LANTERN #FIC #GOD I HOPE THIS IS GOOD #anon #ask

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davidmann95 · 4 years

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Finally, Crisis on Infinite Earths?

Let’s dispense with any pretense right up front: CW’s Crisis on Infinite Earths is thoroughly dopey, punishingly cheap, and unselfconciously corny in the most heavy-handed ways. It is also, similarly in the spirit of wanting to be direct, probably my favorite live-action DC thing other than The Dark Knight. It’s pure, uncut, unapologetic dork superhero joy injected right into the jugular, every single ambition that a primetime network television soap/procedural/mini-MCU homunculus adaptation of the biggest comic book event of all time could have ever conceivably achieved and far beyond. Not in question that I substantially prefer it to the source material, and it’s if nothing else worth regarding as the singular achievement that it is and will remain: when the movies get around to a Crisis someday, the shared ongoing TV/cinematic universe paradigm means there aren’t going to be fistfuls of actors from past interpretations to draw from the way this could for much longer. This was in all likelihood the one shot to do this in the way everyone wanted it to be done, and it held together.

Not that much in the way of deep analysis to offer, and I already discussed the first three episodes, so let’s just get into it:

* Malthus! Low on the totem pole of shock DCU minutia, but I was mighty pleased.

* Not nor have I ever been much of a shipper, but “Do you trust me?” “With every cell in my body.” is the gayest thing I have ever seen, my lord.

* Literally everything with Lex in here is solid shining gold.

* For all the elements I had assumed were givens that didn’t happen - not that I was bothered by much of it other than I really do wish Danny Trejo had been here - Ezra Miller putting his money where his mouth is was in my dang joke category of stuff that was obviously never going to happen. What an absolute delight, and moreover I had thought in the first place “This scene really feels deliberately structured such that it would fit as a scene in the Flash movie, especially given this is where this version has the idea for the name? But that seems so unlikely!” and then Guggenheim confirmed that the CEO of WB specifically asked for that scene to be included, so I guess the Flash movie is going to be a covert sequel/companion piece to the friggin’ CW Crisis! Even if Gustin’s possibly only in the one bit though, I do hope this means Tom Cavanaghhas at least a cameo.

* The killer dumb as hell line aside, Oliver vs. the Anti-Monitor was conspicuously the best special effect in the whole thing, they clearly blew a lot of the budget on that.

* Wolfman got to be the one to tell them the Earths had been merged! And kudos to him co-writing the Arrow episode, which was probably the best of the lot from a pure storytelling/dramatic standpoint; when I say this was leaps and bounds better than the original Crisis, that’s not a knock on him.

* BEEBO. And Sargon the Sorcerer! But BEEBO. Hopefully him appearing at the height of all this and being a thing the non-Legends have to deal with is a sign of the weirdness continuing to be upped across the board.

* The final plan to defeat the Anti-Monitor is the most beautiful Silver Age nonsense, to the point that I’m fine with the last battle basically being in a Vancouver back alley the way I’d said they’d written themselves out of being able to do a year ago. And while there’s an argument to be made that from an in-universe perspective it should have been Flash to deal the final blow given this has been built up on his show since day one, it feels right that Supergirl as his biggest classic casualty scored the win. Either way, the idea of a teeny-tiny Anti-Monitor bein’ all grumpy in the Microverse for all eternity is a delight. Apparently some complained that he was a boring stock villain in this, but folks, I got some bad news about what they’re drawing from.

* Heat Wave is living his best life and we should all be so blessed.

* Given his backseat role as essentially the most important of the non-central characters, all I was truly rooting for with Hoechlin’s Superman in terms of strutting his super-stuff was getting one good hit in against the Anti-Monitor, and then it turned out he was one of the only three (or four if you count Oliver) who did out of the 50+ or so superheroes in total here, so I was a happy camper. And itty-bitty Superman was funny right away, but even funnier when I realized that was basically making Hoechlin an Atom to go with Routh’s Superman. Can’t wait for the show.

* I assume that as I’ve seen others suggest Earth-12 is meant to be the HBO Green Lantern series and they simply used the related footage they had available, but that movie of all movies therefore getting a shout-out in here is both hysterical and somehow perfect: everything has its place.

* Routh lives, in what might be a brighter rewritten timeline! This could easily be his sendoff and it’d be a perfect one, but I’d of course be more than pleased for him to fill a Kal-L role in Superman & Lois.

* “The first of our heroes”? Did Green Arrow precede Superman, which would be a change in at least one of their timelines? Wasn’t Black Lightning a hero awhile back? Or is this just in the sense of him being the first public human hero? The real answer is that it’s an acknowledgment of his real-world role as the guy who kicked all this off and the logistics don’t matter.

* Justice League! Justice League! Justice League!

youtube

* Wonder what the next crossover’s going to be? Easy answers would be something with Superman in the lead now that he’ll be fully in the fold (I understand the 90s crossover Panic in the Sky! was meant for much the same purpose of positioning him as a leader in-universe), or a Dark Nights: Metal adaptation with Batwoman center stage, but the producers have been adamant that the next entry will be something smaller. Maybe a set of mini-crossovers of two or three shows in blocks, or a subplot building across multiple shows that culminates in one or two big episodes with the League banding together. I’d love for their first adventure as a formal team to be fighting Starro (he could emerge as a Lovecraftian threat ala how Morrison treated him in JLA, only for J’onn to link them up to his mind and he turns out to be the hilarious doofus bully from Metal, but the first big crossover was already an alien invasion that involved a bunch of superheroes being mind-controlled, so there is the concern that it could come off as redundant. I’m still in favor of it though, as it could get us a live-action Jarro.

So there we go, there was a live-action Crisis on Infinite Earths. Whereas its source was dopey junk food in service of tearing down a lot of cool stuff, this was dopey junk food in service of delivering and setting up more cool stuff to come, so I’ll stand by this being the better of the two. What a start to the decade; I grew up with 2020 as The Year Of The Future in the same way I know many did with 2000, and nothing could be more of a signifier that we live in a changed world as far as superheroes’ place in mass-media from when I was a kid than this.

#Crisis on Infinite Earths #DCTV #Flash #DCEU #Worlds of DC #Opinion

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onlymollygibson · 4 years

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Trying to Appease Every Single Fan Backfired Spectacularly: An Analysis of The Rise of Skywalker

Up until The Rise of Skywalker, every Star Wars movie made has added new levels of depth, complexity and fun to the Star Wars canon and enhanced the viewing of previous movies. The Rise of Skywalker did the opposite, by disrespecting or invalidating key themes and plot elements from previous movies. (Spoilers below the cut)

Bringing Palpatine Back:

Not only is this a complete invalidation of Vader’s sacrifice in RotJ, but it completely undoes the interesting set-up at the end of TLJ:

What does Kylo Ren (a Darth Vader analog) do after killing his master and not turning to the light?

Can he hold onto power or does someone like Hux usurp him?

Both the Resistance and the First Order have been weakened considerably by the end of TLJ. How does this play out in the complicated field of intergalactic politics?

These questions will never be answered because Abrams apparently didn’t know what to do without a Big Bad.

Since a redemption arc for Kylo Ren was obviously in the plans, it makes absolutely no sense to have him kill his evil master in TLJ and then go back and have to face his *real* evil master in TRoS.

If you want to make a satisfying redemption arc in just three movies, you can’t afford to re-tread the same ground twice. The next step after killing Snoke should have been Kylo Ren ruling as Supreme Leader, without Snoke’s voice in his head, and still feeling empty. Think Zuko in Season 3 of AtLA, when he goes back to the Fire Nation a hero. He had everything he thought he wanted, but he realized his victory was hollow and he was on the wrong side all along. Now that’s a satisfying redemption arc.

Rey Palpatine

Not only did Rian Johnson have Kylo Ren explicitly state Rey has no place in this story, but she had a freaking force vision telling her basically the same thing. The force vision in TLJ (and arguably a key theme of the movie as well) is rendered meaningless by the Rey Palpatine reveal in TRoS.

Also, we’ve done the whole ‘protagonist finds out they’re descended from the villain’ before, with the whole Luke - Vader reveal.

You mean to tell me the grandson of Darth Vader died to save the granddaughter of Palpatine? Seriously?

Kylo Ren dies

The following people died in an attempt to return Ben Solo to the light.

Han Solo

Luke Skywalker

Leia Organa

They succeeded, but only for ten minutes, because the Last Skywalker rose (or climbed out of a hole or whatever - seriously THAT was the title of the movie) and then died two minutes later.

Not to mention they’re telling the same story twice. Again! And just like with the Rey Palpatine nonsense, they told it better the first time. Darth Vader - manipulated from childhood by a creepy evil dude. Dies. His grandson - manipulated from childhood by a creepy evil dude. Dies. Recycling old plots is not good storytelling.

Furthermore, the story of Darth Vader becomes much more tragic if his death to save the next generation didn’t really save them, since his grandson became obsessed with his legacy, repeated his mistakes and ended the same way Vader did -with death ten minutes after he turned back to the light. Only KR didn’t even have another generation to save.

Lando Calrissian rallies the troops

Remember how emotional it was when no one was around to help Leia in TLJ? It turns out all she needed last time was Lando Calrissian and a space boom box or whatever he did to get that many people to show up in no time at all. I mean, I know it was because he went to the Core Worlds, but thematically, you’ve got Lando Calrissian succeeding where Princess Leia failed and it doesn’t sit right with me.

Force Healing

Remember Anakin Skywalker, who turned to the Dark Side to save Padme and stayed on the Dark Side for like thirty years afterwards? Well he’s in Force heaven watching the scene where Rey heals Kylo Ren with absolute disgust. “Seriously? It was that easy? That would have been nice to know before I threw Mace Windu off a building.”

A particularly egregious way in which TRoS disrespected previous movies was the method in which this movie raised the stakes.

Remember how absolutely terrified the Rebels were of the Death Star in Rogue One. Remember that achingly beautiful bittersweet ending? Well now forty-ish years later, they’re still fighting that same fight, to the point that it’s become a joke. The bad guys make a planet killer. The good guys blow it up. How have we had five out of eleven movies with this same plot? Every time you tell the same story AGAIN, it cheapens the other times the story has been told. It’s like inflation.

Seriously? The final battle of the nine-movie saga involves fighting like five hundred Star Destroyers that came out of nowhere with giant Death Star canons strapped on the bottom?

I mean yes, the idea is horrifying, but imagine the directors of Nightmare on Elm Street saying, “Freddie Krueger was terrifying and people loved the movie. For the sequel, let's have a hundred Freddie Kruegers running around.” It works with snakes and spiders, but not super creepy people or powerful weapons.

This is especially true because the Sith Fleet was basically pulled out of thin air, which makes the whole thing feel like Diabolus ex Machina.

It’s made doubly ridiculous because they’re not only absurdly powerful, they’re also easy to destroy. I mean, seriously, Tie Fighters are harder to blow up than those things. A single strafing run from a Y-wing and the whole dang Star Destroyer is toast. This means you don’t really need any battle tactics beyond ‘shoot the giant gun,’ which makes for a really boring action sequence. Star Wars is famous for its dogfights in space. I mean, yeah, the tactics are not actually plausible because zero gravity changes warfare in ways they don’t address, but it’s fine because of the Rule of Cool.

As for the characters and relationships, it’s kind of a trainwreck and nobody is really happy.

Tons of fans are unhappy because Kylo Ren and Rey kissed

Many were opposed to the idea of a villain turning good because he was in love with the hero and that’s exactly what happened in this movie

Others were unhappy because they saw KR as an unredeemable monster and yet he had a (small, not very well executed) redemption arc.

He never suffered for his past actions or even really talked about them, yet he and the protagonist are in love, so it’s fine.

The fans who wanted a Kylo Ren/Rey relationship were unhappy because of how the relationship played out

The redemption arc wasn’t all that great.

The whole Rey Palpatine thing means that KR lied to Rey when he asked her to join him in TLJ. That line was cringey enough when it was true, and now that it's a lie, it’s twice as bad.

They’re a diad in the Force and now one of them is dead? How is that a happy ending?

A major theme of the sequels was Rey finding belonging and someone who understand her. KR was sold as a dual protagonist, someone who understands her. They were on the same side for ten minutes and then he died and Rey doesn’t cry, instead she goes sand sledding and takes the Skywalker name. Seriously, how is this a ‘satisfying’ ending?

And a few minor things

Why does Rose only get like four lines?

General Hux had like two minutes of screen time. For a fan-favorite villain, his ending was disappointing. He really owned his two minutes, though. But think, without the Palpatine nonsense, there could have been more time to examine the discord in the ranks of the First Order higher-ups, with some focus on the lack of respect the original Imperials have for the new generation of First Order commanders. When you raise the stakes with a larger-than-life villain (especially one who was supposed to have died), you run the risk of losing the far more interesting stories revolving around villains who are far more human, both in their powers and in their emotions and desires.

Did anyone have character growth in this movie? Because to me it seemed like they were so busy with shots of CGI copy-pasted Star Destroyers in a row, that they didn’t leave time for personal growth or emotional payoff.

Early reviews said The Rise of Skywalker checked all the boxes for a Star Wars movie, but forgot about the heart. Now that I finally dragged myself to the theater to see for myself, I can’t help but agree.

#tros #tros spoilers #star wars #meta #the rise of skywalker #more like the trainwreck of skywalker #or is it a dumpster fire #space dumpster fire #trash compactor fire?#anyways my husband and I spent like two hours roasting it after we got out of the theater

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smileyoongle · 5 years

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Deception (A Kim Namjoon Mafia AU)

Summary: A damsel in distress and a lonely mafia leader. Different but not too different. The two worlds collide on a rainy night when Kim Namjoon, a renowned Mafia leader is called for an emergency and Y/N Y/L/N is on the run from her abusive father. Feelings stir and he rescues her. But one of them is a liar. And the other's life is on the line. It's only a matter of time until all secrets are out in the open.

Will love be born? Or will death conquer?

chαptєr εïgh†: No More Secrets

Character Count: 9500

Pairing: Namjoon×Reader (Appearances by the whole of BTS)

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If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself.

- George Orwell

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

Walter stood frozen in the kitchen, leaning on the counter with his arms crossed. In all his years of staying with Namjoon, he had never made a mistake. He had protected Namjoon like his family, at least whenever he got the chance.

So how did he let you get hurt?

It wasn't really his fault since he had no idea that there was someone else in the house. But maybe this was a sign that he had to stop. Maybe he was too old now and his stiff muscles weren't of much use. He was just glad that you weren't hurt too bad.

Walter stared at the wall in front of him, trying not to be too bothered by Namjoon who was now standing by the doorway. Namjoon didn't want to do this at all. But somehow, your life had become very valuable to him. Especially when you clutched on to him, refusing to let go as if you'd drown. It didn't need to be said but Namjoon felt like he had to save you. He needed to save you. And he needed to be saved by you.

Namjoon sighed, glancing at his feet and walking towards the old man stood in the big open kitchen.

"Wal-"

"I'm sorry."

Namjoon pursed his lips, his eyes burning at the emotions that were welling up in him. Walter looked sad and Namjoon knew he was beating himself down. But there was only so much he could do. Lately, all his decisions were actuated by your safety.

With a shaky breath, Namjoon muttered the words he never thought he'd say.

"I think it's time to let you go."

Walter didn't react. Even if he was sad, he didn't let it show. This was bound to happen. Namjoon had only said his thoughts out loud. Things could have been harder if Walter didn't want this. Gratefully, he was okay with this.

Namjoon was caught off guard when Walter simply nodded in response.

Guess this really had to happen.

Hesitantly, Namjoon stretched his hand out, giving Walter a tight lipped smile. The latter immediately took it, holding onto it like his life depended on it. Walter's eyes were red and Namjoon had to endure the pain in his chest.

"I hope you find someone who still has his muscles intact." Walter joked, making Namjoon smile at him. Certainly, this wasn't needed. But Namjoon wasn't only doing this for you. He was doing this so that the older man could live the rest of his life in peace, unbothered by the troubles that Namjoon seemed to bring home with him. It was good yet bad but this was progress in Namjoon's eyes. He was finally doing something for someone else. No selfish intentions. No regrets.

With one final goodbye, the doors to Namjoon's house had closed behind Walter, telling him that there was no going back now. It was done. Namjoon was safe in the house with you and hopefully, you'd take care of him too. Putting on his black fedora, Walter walked away into the night, not looking back once.

Namjoon sighed, resting his forehead against the closed door, wondering if this was the right thing to do. He had to hire someone else now. Yes it would take time to build the same amount of trust again but better safe than sorry.

"Are you okay, Namjoon?"

Your sweet voice made Namjoon turn around in an instant, his eyes taking in your confused and concerned expression. You stood at the bottom of the staircase, your hand resting on the wooden railing while the other clutched the bottom of the t-shirt that was too big for you. Namjoon's heart swelled. It was his.

He took a step towards you, giving you a faint smile. You could tell that this incident had worn him out more than it had affected you. The tired eyes and the exhausted smile of his corroborated your assumptions.

"I thought you must have fallen asleep by now." He said, patiently waiting for you to answer him. You shrugged, taking a step away from the staircase. "Couldn't sleep."

Namjoon nodded in response, proceeding to sit on the couch. He buried his face in his hands, sighing on feeling the place beside him dip. You frowned and rested your cheek on the palm of your hand, your elbow sitting on your knee. Namjoon was certainly not okay and you knew it was due to Walter's absence. You wanted to tell him that you had heard everything but maybe it was best if you didn't talk about this. Instead, you opted for placing your hand on his back, rubbing it soothingly. Namjoon looked at you, his eyes red and glossy. Something inside you ached, your heart begging you to make him feel okay. But you didn't know how. Even though you had problems of your own, Namjoon didn't need to hear about them. What he really wanted was for you to give him solace and comfort.

"Let me be here for you, Namjoon." You pleaded, his eyes closing shut on hearing your words. Clearly, things were beginning to take a toll on him but he refused to let it show.

"I'm okay, Y/N. I- I'm just fine." He assured you, giving you a sympathetic smile. You pursed your lips, reluctantly nodding and standing up.

"If it's not too much, could you..." You trailed off, biting down on your lip in uncertainty. Namjoon noticed your hesitation and stood up, towering over you and raising his eyebrows to urge you on.

Your cheeks grew warm, your eyes frantically looking around the room before you said it out loud.

"...could you sleep with me? Just for tonight?" You asked in a small voice, peering up at Namjoon through your lashes. Namjoon let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head in amusement. For a second, he had grown worried, nonsensical thoughts filling up his mind but here you were, asking him if he could keep you company. Of course he would.

Namjoon nodded, his dimples beaming at you. You mentally sighed in relief and hesitantly held his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. You looked up at him, flashing him the smile that he was falling for. As you led him upstairs, Namjoon's worries disappeared into nothing. He decided to let things go for now. Whoever had broken in will pay for hurting you. Namjoon was gonna make sure of it.

∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆

"I'm sorry but what are we doing?" Rex hissed, trying to keep his voice low and inaudible. It was probably really late into the night when he was woken up by Jungkook to follow Hana. Rex was pissed at first, wondering if this was even worth compromising his sleep for. But his love for adventures was far bigger than that for his sleep. Obviously, Jeon Jungkook must have something in mind if he wanted to do this.

Everyone was now aware about your existence, mixed feelings brewing in each member's heart. Some were happy that Namjoon found someone who wasn't related to this darkness that they had to live in. Some were sad that Namjoon hadn't trusted them enough but Jungkook. He felt betrayed, as if he had been cheated on. It wasn't just that. His emotions had been riled up by Hana, whose eyes looked empty since she found out about you. Jungkook had always thought Namjoon would end up with Hana and they'll all be happy but no. In a span of four years, Namjoon had managed to get over her. That's the only possible explanation.

Jungkook was worried when he saw Hana leaving in the middle of the night without telling anyone. She thought she was being discreet but Jungkook was sitting in the darkness of the living room, watching her like a hawk. He couldn't just leave her alone at a time like this so he decided to follow her. Unfortunately, Rex was the only person he saw as backup incase they were attacked.

It was cold, Rex's fingers were numb and he just wanted to go back to sleep. Jungkook didn't respond, his eyes fixed on Hana's figure as she waited at the corner of an alley. Time kept ticking and Rex concluded that this was actually boring. He had thought they'd encounter some villains but what a joke.

They were the villains here.

"Look, I don't think watching a girl, who just wanted to take a walk, is fun. So I'll be heading back now." Rex smiled sarcastically and waved at Jungkook, walking in the opposite direction when Jungkook grabbed the back of his jacket and pulled him.

"If you'd actually pay attention, you'll see that she's not just taking a walk anymore." Jungkook mumbled, his hand still gripping Rex's jacket while he hopelessly tried to make him let go. Giving up, he turned his neck and saw that Hana was now talking to a man. He narrowed his eyes and tried to get a good look at who it was.

Meanwhile, Jungkook wasn't expecting any of this. He had simply thought that Hana was too shocked by the revelation of Namjoon and his plaything. Because that's what you were to Jungkook, a plaything that Namjoon would leave once he realised that it had been Hana all along. And he had come here to tell Hana the same thing but tables had turned. It was now Jungkook who was being fed new information. It seemed like Hana knew the man because now they were exchanging something. It was small and black but that was all Jungkook could see. The streetlights weren't the best either since the man's face wasn't very visible.

Jungkook could make out the cautious expression on Hana's face, an unwanted feeling nagging at him. This was all suspicious and Jungkook didn't know what to do. Should he just confront her? Or should he wait until he found out who the man is?

Their conversation seemed to end, for the man turned around and started walking away. That's when the streetlight completely brightened up the man's face, making Rex's jaw drop and Jungkook's eyebrows furrow. Jungkook was just confused. He didn't know this man at all. But Rex. He had seen this face before all too well on a laminated ID.

"No fucking way!"

Taglist:@uwunamjoon @shadowstark @all-fandoms-rise @tzuyyyuuu @stressedinmedschool247 @ifellinluvwithdorks @min-t-posts @floofwrites @pretty-in-pink-just-because @bts-d-onut @fangirllbookworm @mystical-writer @it-is-dana @ximaginx @kpopgirlbtssvt @pearylove @anothermisspark @annoyingpessimist @motivation-idontknowher @atwoodscott @soundofwonderland @btsarmysvtcarat @i-am-supermerwholoked221b @bunnymaknaereacts @iamcrazyforkdramas @ddaeing

So this is unedited, I'm sorry it's like a bad chapter. But I think I pretty much gave away who Hana was meeting, no? Anyway, sorry to anyone who I forgot to tag and let me know if anyone wants to be tagged!

-XX

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forestwater87 · 4 years

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Cutting Myself on all this Edge

This post has no reason to exist, except that I keep bothering my friends with literally dozens of messages making fun of this and I need a place to keep it all.

What is “this”? Oh, just some people having some Fucking Strong Opinions about how Harry Potter is the Pied Piper (they use that comparison multiple times. It gets old fast) leading our children into the End Times with its pro-illuminati Satan-worshiping witchcraft lessons. You know, the usual.

And no, this isn’t a battle of Forest vs. the Crazy Christians; I’m like 94% sure I’m not working through any sort of religious trauma, partly because I never went deep into this kind of mentality but mostly because I’m just delighted by The Cutting Edge, a website for a very specific type of Christian (no, not you, Catholics. You’re specifically not invited to the Cutting Edge club because you worship demons) interested in the New World Order, the evils of public schools, and Satan’s favorite color.

No, really.

Satan’s favorite color is green. They don’t . . . really explain why.

This site still exists and is the best thing I’ve ever seen. Hours of fun for the whole family. I mean, look at their logo:

And look at their illustration that goes along with their particular Harry Potter series:

Are you not entertained?!

I cannot stop reading these amazing essays -- which delve surprisingly deep into Potter lore, considering they say that there is no sufficient reason for a Christian to ever read a single page of these books -- and I can’t keep harassing my friends with thousands of notifications, so here we are.

Starting small, let’s read the book review for Harry Potter and the Sorceror’s/Philosopher’s Stone. Or, as they prefer to call it:

This book chronicles Harry's first year at the Hogwart's School of Wizardry and Witchcraft. Prepare to be shocked for the bold, blatant, and bodacious raw Satanism that underlines this story! Since "proper"Drug Use is essential in opening the centres of vision and achieving higher consciousness, we should not be surprised that First-Year students learn Drug Use, Drug creation, in a way that makes Drug use seem glorious! You will be shocked to see '666 ' in the story line, and symbols of Antichrist receiving a "fatal wound"!

That’s the entire subtitle. That’s just how they roll on

THE CUTTING EDGE

Part 1: The . . . Plot? I Guess?

This story introduces us to Harry Potter, an orphaned boy sent to live with his "horrible" Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and their fat, obnoxious son, Dudley.

I feel very comfortable with the fact that Cutting Edge has chosen to put scare quotes around the word “horrible,” like that’s up for debate. Combined with the very normal and sane opinions expressed elsewhere on the site, this really bodes well for their ideas about parenting and childcare in general.

all through this book, any non-witch folk -- like Vernon and Petunia -- are depicting in disgusting language.

Typo is theirs, as is the apparent offense they take to the fictional depiction of people who are very much not real. While there hasn’t been any exciting formatting going on yet in this essay, I will replicate it as much as possible, and any changes made will be clearly indicated through square brackets and ellipses.

Non-witch people are known as Muggles , and they are depicting as being "dumber than a box of rocks", of being physically obscene, and of living the most boring, unimaginative lives possible.

I was going to argue that this isn’t true, but I suppose we don’t really meet any cool Muggles in the first book. I guess I have to give them this, but I don’t feel good about it.

Witches, on the other hand, are depicted as being very smart, very "with it", of being physically normal, and of living wonderfully exciting lives

It bears repeating:

a flashback scene to the time 10 years earlier when Harry's Mom and Dad were psychically murdered by evil Lord Voldemort

Okay. Now I’m no Potterologist, and so I’m hoping any true believers will correct me if I misinterpret the holy texts,* but I don’t think Harry’s parents were psychically murdered by anyone. I’m pretty sure they were quite literally, physically made dead. Just because it’s a beam of magic doesn’t mean it’s not physical anymore, does it? Voldy didn’t Professor-X Harry’s parents and they died of three D10 psychic damage or anything; he just fucking killed them with a wizard gun. Am I wrong here?

*By which I obviously mean Harry Potter. It teaches children how to become Satanists; we’re clearly dealing with a book of immense spiritual relevance.

Skipping a little bit of plot summary, which is a combination of, well, summary of the plot, although Cutting Edge is determined to get Hogwarts’ name wrong, and a little bit of baffling End-Times(?) nonsense thrown in for funsies --

Of course, a Christian would be immediately alerted to this turn of events [in which Harry defeats Voldemort and is scarred] because soon a supernaturally powerful global leader will demand everyone on earth take some sort of a mark in exactly this place on the body.

What?

-- and there’s some weird formatting things going on that I think are supposed to imply something sinister but really just come off as goofy:

They have Harry on a boat headed for nowhere and they had every intention of keeping Harry from ever attending Hogwarts School. However, Harry receives supernatural assistance.

(It’s not letting me do colors on desktop, which is stupid, but that “supernatural” is supposed to be both bold and red)

There’s a long description about the difference between the Real and Fantasy worlds, which apparently Satanists try to live in both of (and so does Harry, making him also a Satanist. This is actually one of the less-stupid arguments Cutting Edge has for Harry’s Satanism, so just go with it) that’s honestly more boring than funny so I’m skipping it. Then we get to a much more fun section: why Rowling’s descriptions of Muggles are . . . teaching children to hate Jesus?

Part 2: Rowling Hates Muggles

Rowling consistently depicts people who do not practice Witchcraft in most obnoxious terms. They are depicted as being really, really dumb, boring, and living a life not worth living . We share these examples, below, with you so you can appreciate the truth of this statement. Uncle Vernon was also the only Muggle quoted in the book as being really opposed to Witchcraft; therefore, when readers see how stupid, ugly, and boring Vernon is, they get the idea that all people who are opposed to Witchcraft must be as stupid, ugly, and boring as Vernon is.

... Are all people opposed to Witchcraft cowardly bullies?

I mean, you are the one going after a children’s book for daring to entertain children, so if the shoe fits . . .

"Harry was glad school was over, but there was no escaping Dudley's gang ... Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all big and stupid, but as Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader." [p. 31] How do you know your own child does not think of you in these terms? After all, you are a non-magical Muggle.

I actually can’t complain, because this is just accurate. I 100% hate my parents and think they’re stupid because they’re not literally witches/wizards. Our relationship has never fully recovered.

"Uncle Vernon made another funny noise, like a mouse being trodden on." [p. 47] Remember Adolf Hitler, the most famous Black Magick wizard in modern history? He depicted Jews as Rats in his Propaganda Machinery, convincing the Germans they should extermination the "vermin".

GODWIN’S LAW HAS LANDED!

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN AND EVERYTHING OUTSIDE OR IN-BETWEEN, WE HAVE OFFICIALLY COMPARED HARRY POTTER TO HITLER!

We find it highly interesting that, later in the book, when the Evil Lord Voldemort is supposedly killing the unicorn in the Forbidden Forest, the color of the blood of the unicorn is silver!

Okay, but like . . . why? I mean, it immediately follows a description of the Bloody Baron, who is depicted with silvery blood because he’s, like, a ghost, but I’m not sure what that has to do with unicorns or with Satan. Are unicorns associated with Satan? Is silver associated with Satan?

Is everything Satan? Am I Satan?

There’s a lot of rage at a gentleman named Chuck Colson throughout this section, who apparently made the grave error of telling parents it was okay for their children to read Harry Potter because it doesn’t involve contact with the supernatural. And I’ll admit, that seems like a pretty bad defense of the books, because if you define “supernatural” as ghosts, poltergeists, or whatever the hell Voldemort is, then there is absolutely a metric buttload of supernatural stuff in here.

Arguably, a better defense of why it’s okay for children to read these children’s books is that they are books made for children, but YMMV on that one. Probably depends on whether or not you think children are sitting in the giant metaphorical (or literal? Not sure Cutting Edge gets metaphors) lap of the Antichrist every time they pick up the books.

(A visual reminder.)

Part 3: Basically Part 2, But This Time There Are Colors

The next section is on colors, which are very important to Cutting Edge. As linked back in the very beginning of this post, there is an entire essay devoted to the demonic colors used in the Harry Potter books, but we get just a taste of it here:

Rowling makes use of vivid colors in her story line. Some of these colors are consistent with the colors preferred by Satan and his followers in the Occult. Rowling's use of such vivid colors also enables her to paint the Fantasy Reality of Witchcraft as THE most exciting place to live. Wizard of Oz uses the same technique: when Dorothy is in her real world in Kansas, the color is black and white, but when she steps into her Fantasy Reality, the scene explodes in the most wonderful color.

Interesting interpretation. An alternative view is that Rowling needs to use more descriptors for things within the Wizarding World, because her readers won’t have the same frame of reference to draw from that they do with real-life objects and events in the Muggle World, and one can assume that these lovely descriptions are part of her being a, y’know, good and evocative writer, and the colors are just related to how she pictured the world she was creating.

But I mean, yours is good, too.

Actually, the citations provided by Cutting Edge don’t depict anything especially vivid; it’s not like she’s throwing massive amounts of purple prose at the descriptions of the Satanic green of Harry’s eyes. In fact, the only enhancer used is “emerald” at one point. For the most part, this essayist is just . . . noticing when the word “green” appears in the text and calling it a siren song to entice good Christian children out of the colorless world of reality and goodness and into the technicolor dreamland of magic and mayhem.

Also, please remember that Satan has a favorite color, and it’s green. For all birthdays and Christmases (or wait, whatever the Satanic version of Christmas is! Halloween?), please make sure all gifts are green or green-adjacent.

Even though Harry is nearly as powerful as a Black Magick practitioner, and could easily have decided to go over to that side, he declines to go over to the Dark Arts. Dumbledore assures Harry that he is not evil as Lord Voldemort. However, as a symbol of the Black Arts he could perform, Rowling makes Harry's eyes green.

This observation -- and I use the term loosely -- implies that every single Slytherin and villain of the Harry Potter series would have green eyes, to demonstrate their capacity for evil. The fact that this is obviously not the case must just be a red herring.

Part . . . 4, I think?: Drugs, Magic, and Magic Drugs

Harry and his friends learn how to makedrugs, and the glory of taking them.

The fact that they don’t actually take any in this book is entirely irrelevant. (”Drugs” should also be red as well as bolded. It’s very serious business.)

The plant, wormwood, contains thujone, an hypnotic drug, banned by the FDA since 1915 [Christian News, "Latest Potter Book Meets Cautionary Response From Christians, July 17, 2000] ; further, wormwood is used to make Absinthe, a hallucinogenic liquor. Therefore, the drug to which Rowling makes reference is very real, and is so dangerous the FDA has banned it -- to this day, it is banned!

While thujone was illegal at the time of this essay in the United States, it was actually never banned in the UK . . . you know, where these books take place and were written? I don’t think Rowling gives a solitary fuck about our FDA standards. Also, I don’t know if you could just straight-up buy wormwood on whatever the equivalent of Amazon was in 1998 (was it just Amazon?), but you sure can now. Can’t be all that scary.

You can hardly get a better description of drug use, and drug glorification than this!

I wonder why they keep using red to emphasize all these evil things . . . you’d think they’d go with Satan’s favorite color/the sign that Harry is the Antichrist to really jazz up all of the evil.

"The drug message in this book is clear. To reach your goals in life like Harry Potter, you need to know how to make drugs and take drugs in just the right way or else you are a 'dunderhead' and will never succeed." [http://www.fflibraries.org/Book_Reports/HarryPotter ; written by a physician and father who asked to remain anonymous].

The fact that this URL doesn’t lead me to that review is one of the saddest things I’ve faced all month.

The sections on spellcasting are far less interesting, reiterating a pretty simple refrain: all magic is bad, because the books say some magic is good then the books are bad, it’s all teaching children about Satanism. Rinse and repeat.

During final exams, teachers passed out special quills with which to write; these quills had been "bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell". The reason none of the teachers felt they could trust the honor of the students to not cheat is obvious enough; in Witchcraft, no Absolute Good and Evil exists. All objective, eternal standards of conduct and morality have been rejected. Therefore, teachers knew full well that all the students would cheat on their final exams if they thought they could get away with it. It is a sad commentary that teachers had to place an Anti-Cheating spell on the quills to prevent exams cheating. Christian parent, is this the "morality" you want your students to learn?

Now, it might just be my obvious Satanist addiction to witchcraft talking, but doesn’t it seem more likely that there’s an anti-cheating spell because sometimes . . . children cheat? And no amount of Good Wholesome Christian Teaching is going to completely eradicate the desire to cheat on a test, because of course it isn’t.

It’s not because the school has taught the students that cheating is okay and cool and sexy or whatever -- in fact, if you want evidence that there is an absolute moral standard against cheating, it would be that the teachers are actively taking steps to prevent it! If witchcraft really was all about how there’s no such thing as good and evil . . . well, for one thing they wouldn’t teach Defense against the motherfucking Dark Arts, but they also wouldn’t care if their students cheated enough to provide anti-cheating quills, because they wouldn’t consider cheating a bad thing, because they wouldn’t consider anything a bad thing!

Also, I’m not sure what listing all of the spells in the book and what they do really says about Satanism, except that . . . spells exist, and are used? Which I feel like you should really expect from the book about magic and wizards; if that’s an alarming surprise, then you’ve made a wrong turn somewhere way earlier down the road.

Part whatever: Seriously, Rowling is just ALL ABOUT Satan

This entire section is basically about how JKR must be a Satanist, because she apparently depicts the world of magic and the occult with perfect accuracy, and how could she do that except through being an active practicing witch herself?

Mirrors are believed to be a portal to another dimension, including Time. Occultists believe they can go forward or backward in Time with a mirror being one of the Dimensional Portals. Harry encounters a mirror, "magnificent ... as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet ... Harry stepped in front of it. He had to clasp his hand to his mouth to stop himself from screaming ... for he had seen, not only himself in the mirror but a whole crowd of people standing right behind him ... 'Mom?', he whispered. 'Dad?' They just looked at him, smiling ... Harry was looking at his family, for the first time in his life." [p. 208-9]

Intriguing theory, except of course for the fact that the mirror isn’t a portal to jack shit; unless you count the weird trick where he can get the stone (and only the stone) through wishes or whatever the fuck these idiots do, and all it does is show someone what they want. It’s not actually reaching into the past to find Harry’s parents or whatever, just like it’s not actually reaching into a parallel dimension future where Ron is the king of everything. It’s just . . . idk, reading their subconscious and throwing up a neat visual or something. With magic. It’s complex, but it’s definitely not what Cutting Edge says it is.

Not pictured: a portal to another physical, metaphysical or temporal dimension. It’s literally . . . just a mirror, but a mirror that reflects your insides instead of your outsides. It’s clever or something.

Do you realize Rowling has just made the creator of the Sorcerer's Stone 666 years old? Do you realize what this means? Since the number, '666', is a symbol of Antichrist and his Mark of the Beast [Revelation 13:18] and since Rowling ties this number to the Elixir of Life, Harry Potter is teaching children that the way to achieve eternal life [Elixir of Life] is to obey the Antichrist and take his Mark of the Beast!

Fucking. Yes. I don’t even have witty commentary for this, I’m just delighted by every word in that section. I’m smiling so much.

This is a gift and we’re reading it for free!

Wonderful! We have the forbidden practice of drinking blood in this Potter book, forbidden in Scripture [Genesis 9:4-5] but practiced regularly in Satanism. I wonder if Chuck Colson, Focus On The Family, and Christianity Today ever told their Christian followers about this? Have they even read this book, before they issued their acceptance of Potter?

Don’t you dare try to employ sarcasm. People who believe in the Illuminati and New World Order are not allowed to be sarcastic -- even if the thought of this faceless stranger typing that little clever “Wonderful!” and smirking to themselves about how witty they are is a very, very good mental image.

Also, what the fuck did unicorns do to deserve being associated with the Antichrist? I mean, I get the color green; it’s the color of nature and the outdoors, and that shit fucking sucks. (Fuck you, trees!) But unicorns?

Unicorns have never done anything to anyone, ever. Unicorns couldn’t be Satanists if they tried.

This means evil Lord Voldemort -- whose killing curse upon Harry, his Mom, and his Dad had rebounded against him when Harry did not die -- is near death, and is seeking to drink the Unicorn's blood to stay alive long enough to finally achieve eternal life through drinking the '666' Elixir of Life.

Yes, that is -- sort of -- the plot of this book.

This is the specific New Age doctrine being taught here: people will have to draw their temporary spiritual life from The Christ until the time comes when their individual consciousness will have been raised so much they will achieve their personal godhood, and live forever!

This concept is genuine New Age, is consistent with prophecy, and Rowling depicts it very well!

Christian parents, do you want your child to be taught this New Age doctrine? Can you see Harry Potter playing the Pied Piper and leading your children straight to the Mark of the Beast?

Pied Piper count: 1 (that’s not a lot so far, but it’s used in like every essay. It’ll come back)

I don’t know how to tackle this, because I’m not sure Cutting Edge really understands that Voldemort is the bad guy in these books. Children aren’t going to read this book and then go, “Cool! I’m gonna go stab a unicorn and drink its essence because my favorite role model You-Know-Who told me to!”

The unicorn blood thing is unilaterally portrayed as a pretty bad move. Voldemort’s goals in general are pretty obviously not great ideas. I know Cutting Edge doesn’t have the benefit of hindsight here, but Voldemort’s quest for immortality and how bad and wrong and fucked-up that is, is kind of one of the major through-lines of the entire story. It could be argued that it’s not Voldy’s desire to live forever that’s wrong so much as his whole, like, genocide thing, which is legit . . . except that all the methods to attain immortality involve killing someone, or stealing something, or otherwise being Not a Good Dude.

Voldemort is Not a Good Dude, and I don’t know how to communicate that any clearer than the books written for third graders already did.

Part 6: I don’t really know, I just wanted a chance to break this endless essay up and this seemed like a good place to do it. So let’s talk about spells some more

Many spells require both the taking of drugs and demonic possession, so it is a matter of gravest importance that Harry is actually going to learn to cast spells. When Chuck Colson dismisses the casting of spells as innocent and of no real importance, did he know this fact?

I seem to have missed the part where Harry goes off his ass on LSD and gets possessed by B’aal. Was that in the Silmarillion?

whenever a witch changes the physical characteristics of something, he or she is practicing very high-level witchcraft, has a high level of demonic possession, and has had to carry out human sacrifice themselves or have someone else do it for them.

“It’s fiction” is often a bullshit excuse to justify bad framing, but I feel like it applies here, because maybe in the “real” world spellcasting requires you to trip balls and summon demons, but it’s extremely obvious that it doesn’t work like that in Harry Potter! You can’t just say that’s what the books are teaching when the books aren’t actually teaching anything even close to that!

(I’m starting to feel like my emphasis italics are having a similar effect to Cutting Edge’s red bolded letters. Fuck if I’m gonna stop using them, though.)

If Harry and his pals were wearing goat heads and putting virgins into a giant blender or something I think you might have an argument here, but when the people reading your essay have eyes and can see that the things you’re describing aren’t anywhere in the books, you’re just lying. And it’s very obvious, and I still love you, Cutting Edge, but you’re being disingenuous and it’s starting to kill my joy-boner to constantly have to point out the ways you’re misunderstanding a children’s book, especially when I think you’re kinda doing it on purpose. So how about you chill just a little bit and we’ll all read some Harry Potter together.

Magical Drafts and Potions , by Arsenius Jigger. Some of the potions are very real, very deadly.

Wait, did Rowling publish this one, too? How do you know what’s in the book? Does the book list some real potions and how to make them, or is this another thing that’s only available in the Cutting Edge’s copy of the books?

Students were told they could also "bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad." [p. 67] These three creatures are important to an occultists. Satanists have always revered the cat because of its reputed "nine lives", which is a symbol of reincarnation. Cats are also symbols of a witch's familiar spirit.

They have revered the frog because his prominent bulging eyes represent the All-seeing nature of Lucifer. Frogs are also consistently used in many of the potions witches concoct. They revere owls as a symbol of occult wisdom and omniscience -- again because of their eyes.

So fuck cats, I guess. They’re being pretty unfair to owls and frogs too -- especially insulting their poor eyes. They can’t help it! -- but I’m a crazy cat lady and I’m not feeling this slander.

Actually . . . my cat looks pretty high right now. Maybe she is channeling Satan.

Okay, never mind. Fuck all these animals. They’re all evil. This article is entirely right, and I renounce all of my previous statements.

McGonagall has obviously mastered her Craft because she was the tabby cat seen by Uncle Vernon reading a map, back in chapter one. Remember that any time a witch or wizard practices transfiguration, they need expert spell-casting, and demonic possession. I bet no one ever told you that little fact, did they?

No, they didn’t, because it’s not even remotely relevant to the fictional book written for children.

Like, I’m trying very hard to not question anyone’s religious beliefs, so if you believe in the occult and magic and all that then more power to you, and maybe it’s totally valid to think that real-life magic spells requires demonic possession. That doesn’t make it true in the books, though! Stop making shit up!

Potions Class -- taught in one of the dungeons [p. 136] How disgusting must the atmosphere for this class, and others, taught in a dungeon, which was built to torture people to death?

If only the classroom, teacher, and overall environment for the Potions classes was meant to be as viscerally unpleasant as possible. Then putting them in the dungeons would be a really good idea, to reflect the Slytherins’ backwards beliefs and the misery of their intolerance.

Like, JKR isn’t this subtle. When you name one of your antagonists “Bad Dragon,” you’re not aiming for this subconscious-symbolism bullshit.

Part 7: Did you think this book had a good moral? Fuck you!

The fundamental occult/Communist philosophy

Well, I guess we’re talking about Communism now! Because if there’s anything Harry Potter is interested in above all else, it’s Communism.

My favorite things about these essays is how they will pull in other social ills -- abortion, public schools, communism -- and slap them into their argument regardless of if it makes any semblance of sense.

Anyway, Cutting Edge actually has a legitimate argument here, although they take it about 50 steps too far:

the "Ends Justify The Means" permeates this entire book. To achieve a goal deemed good, Harry and his friends consistently break rules, steal, and use Witchcraft against others.

It is true that Harry and his friends break the rules, lie, and otherwise do “bad” things in the service of an ultimate good, and that they suffer relatively few consequences for it. This is a legitimate point, and actual people who know things agree.

I’ve been struck speechless by this article before, but this is the first time it’s because I think they might have an actual point.

Hermione was very mildly punished [for her lie to the professors about why they were fighting the troll], but her lie cemented a friendship with Ron and Harry, leading a child to conclude that her lie served an excellent purpose, and could not be considered 'wrong'.

I mean . . . yeah? I don’t think it’s entirely reasonable to assume that children will take that lesson away, but I read it as a child and I certainly didn’t think Hermione was wrong to lie -- nor do I now, which I suppose proves just how powerful the Satanic conditioning was.

Professor Quirrell told Harry, "There is no good or evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it ." [p. 291] This is standard Witchcraft, and standard Illuminist doctrine. This doctrine is the guiding light to those Illuminists who are driving the world into the Kingdom of Antichrist. This doctrine is very seductive to those immature children trying to grow up in our current culture; since a child's inherent nature is evil, he will find such philosophy more appealing than the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Christian parents, beware!

Oh thank God Satan, we’re back to the bullshit. I was getting seriously weirded out by the idea that they had good points buried in here somewhere, but now we’re just faced with the argument that the bad guy says . . . bad things . . . and is defeated because his bad ideas are obviously bad and wrong . . . and this proves that the book is teaching children to believe the bad things?

No one reads these books and wants to be the bad guys, Cutting Edge. Kids aren’t buying Harry Potter wands and robes to pretend that they’re Quirrell, trying to keep people from finding out they have a Dark Lord on the back of their head. (Though now that I’ve mentioned it, that sounds like a very fun game.)

Depicting bad things in a way that makes it clear -- to children, I must reiterate -- that they’re bad isn’t the same thing as romanticizing or promoting those bad things. This is basic stuff, CE.

Revenge Motive : "Hagrid almost had to drag Harry away from Curses and Countercurses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying, and Much, Much More , by Vindictus Viridian." [p. 80] Throughout these books, seeking revenge and attacking your enemies is high on the priority list of Harry, his friends, and other students. Do you want your children to adopt this most Satanic attitude? Notice the first name of the author of this revenge book, above, is named "Vindictus, i.e., Vindictive".

Students are taught to depend upon Witchcraft for every part of their lives . All food is conjured up rather than prepared, all the dishes are conjured clean, and even the hospital depends upon Witchcraft to get students well [p. 156]. Neville Longbottom, one of the more clumsy students, received a crystal ball from his grandmother called a Remembrall . The ball glows scarlet if you have forgotten something you should have done. [p. 145]

That’s . . . fuck, that’s actually kind of another good point. Stop kinda making sense, goddamn it!

A lot of the criticism is just that the things wizards do are cool, which will make kids want to become witches/wizards in order to do those cool things, too. And to be fair, the stuff Harry et. al. does are cool, and I did want to be a witch when I grew up. Fortunately, I was in third grade, and so my options for witchcraft were relatively limited; by the time I was old enough to pursue the endeavor properly, I was also old enough to know that it was actually nothing like Harry Potter. If magic actually was anything like those books make it seem, we’d have a lot more witches running around, zapping shit.

Possible reference to homosexuality . When I was first researching Harry Potter, I examined several pro-Potter websites. The author of one of the articles said that one of the probable developments she felt would occur in the latter books was the advent of homosexuality in the story theme. She said such activity was only hinted at in the first books.

Oh dear god, Cutting Edge found the shippers. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.

(I wonder if this means they’ve also read the Draco Trilogy.)

I do have to take issue with one last point in this bit about morals, where they talk about how scarring it might be to a child to see Voldemort possessing the back of Quirrell’s head:

Rowling could not have created a better description of demonic possession by a dark and powerful demon! Christian parent, is this the type of thing you want your child to bring into their minds?

Thing is, I’ve been in a lot of Christian circles for most of my life, and this sounds exactly like the kind of dark, traumatizing thing many religious parents would be happy to put into their children’s minds.

Part Almost Done: Definitely Intentional Satanic Symbols, Really

Hey, did you know the number 11 was occultist? I didn’t, and when I Googled it, 4 of the front-page results were Christian or conspiracy groups making this claim, 2 were unclear, and 3 actually seemed to indicate some level of belief in the power of the number 11. Though I might’ve stacked the deck with the word “occult”; when I changed my search term to “magic,” I found almost exclusively positive articles about the symbolic power of the number 11, so . . . Cutting Edge isn’t necessarily wrong.

But boy, did you know how many times the number 11 shows up in Sorcerer's Stone? Not very much, but if we stretch our credibility a little bit, we might see something spooky!

Harry was eleven (11) when he was admitted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The number eleven is considered sacred to the occultist, as it is the first primary number. Occultists will also add up numbers to get an occult number that is sacred; thus, I was highly interested when the bank vault maintained for Harry by his Mom and Dad before their death was numbered '713' [p. 73]. When you add '7 + 1 + 3 = 11'. Then, we learn that, in the money of the Fantasy Reality, "twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle". When you add 2 + 9 = 11.

When Harry found the wand that was meant for him, it turned out to be 11 inches long! [p. 84]

The Hogwarts Express Train left at 11 o'clock from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. [p. 91]

Oh man, that’s some convincing evidence. Evidence of what, I have no idea, but it uses math and I’m sure it’s very alarming!

" Sorcerer's Stone " is also called the "Philosopher's Stone", and is very, very Satanic! Rosicrucianism teaches that an Initiate will pass through five stages to become the highest Adept possible, to be most proficient in exercising the power of Satanism. They call this process the "Five Stages In The Transmutation of the Soul". The final stage is depicted by the Phoenix Bird; the Adept is then said to have achieved the "Sorcerer's Stone". Thus, the fact that the term, "Sorcerer's Stone" is in the title of this book suggests that the ultimate goal of all students at Hogwarts is to achieve the Sorcerer's Stone.

Wow, that sure is an interesting interpretation of the rock that shows up in the book for like 6 pages and then is immediately destroyed! Alternate theory, if you’re open to it: It’s a rock, named the Philosopher’s Stone because the Philosopher’s Stone is historically the name of a rock, called the philosopher's stone, and it's literally just a rock and doesn't mean anything Satanist because it's a fucking ROCK.

(Pictured: A rock)

There’s a really odd part right after the long discussion about how alchemy and unicorns and whatnot are Satanic Illuminati symbols, where CE just takes a moment to explain the game of Quidditch. No commentary beyond a sassy little “[Even the Quidditch balls are 'enchanted'].” Just . . . sort of letting you know how the game is played.

To be fair, this is quite a valuable service, since I don’t think anyone actually understands how Quidditch works, but I’m not sure what it’s doing sandwiched between two declarations of Harry Potter’s obvious evil.

PART THE LAST THANK GOD: WHO THE FUCK NEEDS A SUBTITLE IT’S ALMOST OVER

The first few paragraphs are standard boilerplate conclusion stuff, reiterating the rest of the story, continued misunderstanding that bad things are done by the bad guys, no there really are drugs and Illuminati propaganda in here I promise, yadda yadda. Nothing noteworthy except for the fact that I found this sentence absolutely hilarious:

But, most horribly, we see depictions of Satanism that are truly End of the Age. We see the symbol of Antichrist, the Unicorn.

And so I leave you with this one final thought, because it’s all I can fit into the saggy mush that was once my brain:

From Genesis through Revelation, God demands His people separate themselves from the evil around them! SEPARATE! SEPARATE! SEPARATE!

S E P A R A T E

#harry potter #hp #rowling #jkr #this doesn't really count as fandom history does it?#i did discover this amazing site through f_w #tagging this as Christianity would be mean i think #but i'm ignoring the wank mostly and sticking to the FACTS #'facts' like 'harry potter's eyes are the color of satan'#WAKE UP SHEEPLE #this is the world's longest post and i'm not sure it's interesting to anyone except me #i got very tired at the end of this can you tell #i refuse to even consider editing this #you will take my thoughts as i have them #if the 'read more' doesn't show up IT IS NOT MY FAULT I FUCKING PUT IT THERE I SWEAR IT #quotes aren't showing up on mobile #can't do red text or fun fonts on desktop #this post is a goddamn disaster and it's what both i and this essay deserve

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howwelldoyouknowyourmoon · 4 years

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Bullied by Sun Myung Moon

I think I was 16, because there was talk of a surprise matching. I don’t think I could have been younger than that. Anyway, it was Christmas, and Father had declared that he wanted to see all the 2nd gen who could come. The urgency of the request had us all loading into vans to flock to New York from several states away on Christmas Eve. When we got there, I don’t remember him having any special message, and I was somewhat disappointed that it was just the usual. He gave us all watches from Christian Bernard, and had us promise to start Christian Bernard clubs at our schools. I remember, even as I promised with all the kids around me, that I had no intention of starting or participating in such a club. My family could barely afford new shoes. I knew that life was expensive. The idea of asking other high schoolers to join me in an elite and obscure watch club was unthinkable. I couldn’t afford the watch I held, and I certainly didn’t think excluding others from my club because they couldn’t afford one was fair.

Anyway, that’s not really what was most impressed upon me during this particular speech. Like all the D.C. blessed children, I’d been to many, many speeches, and to be honest, I mostly thought that they were boring and long, and didn’t really question their truth. But one girl did. He had been talking for a couple hours, and he was making an analogy about tigers and lions. I don’t even remember what the point of it was, but I remember that he said he was one and he would beat the other (representing Satan, or individualism, or whatever), because of some innate quality of his. And one girl dared to raise her hand and say that it would be switched, based on what she knew about the animals. I knew the prowess of the big cats was not his point, and I expected him to bypass the comment like a mature adult, and explain “the analogy is not the point – what I’m saying is yada yada.” But he didn’t. Instead, he argued his analogy, and became hostile. It was weird to watch the Messiah become so defensive over nothing. She said something about having seen a program about it on National Geographic, supporting her assertion. And then it happened: True Father became every bully in high school I have ever known. The perfect man, the Messiah, and second coming of Jesus said, “Well if you’d stop watching National Geographic all day, maybe you wouldn’t be so fat.”

Later in the speech, another kid had a question, this time a boy. And I don’t remember what his question was, but I do remember when True Father told him to stand up, and then said “Are you a boy or a girl? You’re so fat I can’t tell.” He was chubby, but obviously a boy. There was no call for that. The kid’s question wasn’t disrespectful. We sat there in stunned silence.

No matter what else I knew about True Father, I knew him to be a bully from that day on. He was petty and superficial, and unfortunately, that colored my view of God, and my perception of my own body. I have waited on writing up this account because I never wanted the victims of his attacks to ever read this and re-live that humiliation. And so, I wanted to say to them, and to all of us who were there, that what happened was wrong. It’s wrong to attack a teenage girl’s weight because she has questions. It’s wrong to embarrass a teenage boy because he’s had the audacity to raise his hand. True Father was wrong and acting completely immature.

A child or adolescent bully attacking their peers is bad enough, but a full grown man picking on children for their appearance is a pathetic human being.

_________________________________________

Comment:

I had read that post in the past. I think it’s very revealing of what reality was; a reality most of us didn’t want to face.

Reading the comments below the post I saw that someone seems to think that any “old Asian teacher” would respond that way to “American kids” who don’t want to listen.

I suspect, first, the commenter may be Asian. Second I suspect he or she may not be fond of American kids. Was it mentioned that the two individuals were American? After all only American kids would be bored by the litany of nonsense that the “Messiah” used to pour on us for hours, right? Third, we’re not talking about an old Asian teacher. Like the poster very well expressed, we’re talking about a person who’s supposed to be bigger than a teacher; a broader and deeper human being, not a constipated Confucianist character who can’t get past someone that they consider inferior challenging in any way anything he says. No real teacher would do that, because teachers as a rule of thumb are concerned for the psychological well being of their students. Being Asian wouldn’t be considered an excuse in my book. I find absolutely no excuse, NONE, for that behavior.

It reminded me how Mr. Moon got so offended at Belvedere when someone who had been addressed by him, in English, had the audacity to say that he couldn’t understand the Reverend’s accent! OMG! Hell broke loose! How dared he! That was brought up by Moon week after week after the incident! And we members nodded in agreement. How dared he! Poor, spineless creatures we were… You’re not supposed to be honest; you’re not supposed to be unafraid, and much less have an opinion contrary to his. As a western person I grew up with a loving father who allowed me to disagree with him, giving me room to think on my own. What a tragic mistake to transfer that understanding of what a father is to the “True” Father! Oh, no! You have to fear him, you have to accept and take notes of whatever crap he says and never question it. That is what the loving “True" Father of all mankind and the cosmos expected of you. (Scoff.) “True” my ass. Excuse me.

Y.R.

If Adam and Eve didn’t exist, then there was no fall and therefore no need for a savior.

Faced with the acutely disturbing reality of the Unification Movement…

Reflections on the significance of lineage and of Jesus

Liberation of ancestors by a third party?

_________________________________________

Sun Myung Moon May 17, 1973

“Good morning! Sit down! I am going to speak about the significance of a training session like this….

In your own way, you can organize your lecture. In order for you to be a dynamic lecturer, you must know the knack of holding and possessing the listeners’ hearts. If there appears a crack in the man’s personality, you wedge in a chisel, and split the person apart. For the first few lectures, you will just memorize. But after that, you will study the character of your audience, and adapt your lecture. If he is a scientist, you will approach him differently than a commercial man, artist, etc. The audience as a whole will have a nature, and you must be flexible.” LINK

_________________________________________

Sun-gil Choi asked her husband, Sun Myung Moon, to stop pikareum sex with many women.

Sun Myung Moon’s mission to womb-cleanse many women confirmed by Sean Moon

Moon neglected and beat his own children. How did it affect them?

The ‘True Father’ who could not forgive: “I haven’t been able to release my grudge towards Japanese people yet.” November 2011

The Incident at the New Yorker Hotel: Hyun Jin stopped talking – there was a familiar uncomfortable silence…

Hyun Jin Moon’s assault on Tim Folzenlogen

Kook Jin Moon and Hyung Jin Moon plan to “Arrest and Execute” their mother, Hak Ja Han, leader of the FFWPU

#Sun Myung Moon #bully #abuse

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aetherhealingagent · 5 years

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Cult AU

((Cause this is important. I’m gonna babble!

-Not in modern times, no actual time period just like...the past? Pre-medieval I dunno. Not necessarily in a pokemon verse but it works fine in one as well.

-Okay basics of the general religion of this world, so there’s a pantheon of gods, and then there is a “King” of the gods. And most people worship the king along side other ones. And I guess it’s a mix of the whole heaven aspect and Moksha (reincarnation) and Ether in alchemy. Where people want to go to Ether where the gods are, and regain their “pure” human state. But only the best of the best go there, everybody else cycles through for however long it takes them to be perfect. If your’re really bad you get booted to “Hell” for that next lifetime, then launched back into the cycle.

-Okay actual cult stuff, but not the one Rue runs. Basically just hyper religious folks who have this whole prophecy going on, where they have to sacrifice somebody to the main god. For a fast pass to Ether. And this person is, Rue obviously. He’s raised to know next to fucking nothing, so he has to learn by ear, and life is pretty shitty until they attempt to sacrifice him.

-Surprise surprise, he doesn’t die all the way and somehow makes it to safety somewhere. He’s not at all pleased and is very much shaking a stick at every god in the pantheon. And believes anybody who puts their faith in some god is an idiot and gullible.

-He eventually comes across the capitol of some kingdom and sticks around. So life kinda sucks in this kingdom, but people are optimistic. Town also worships the main god, but are very casual about it. Rue points this out and they ask him what to do instead, and jokingly he suggests some extreme forms of religion.

-Nobody takes him seriously, but he meets the king and suggests this idea to him. And the king is one of those extremely religious folks lowkey, and he’s all for it. So the kingdom is like, “Yes, our king is a genius and wise leader. He must know what he’s doing!” He’s not too bright, and really fucking wants to get into Ether. So Rue is like the Religious leader of this kingdom now.

-So Rue tells everybody that he has a direct connection to the gods, proves this by performing some minor magical feats. Cause when he didn’t die in the sacrifice, whatever magic blessing that were to be gifted to that cult kinda stopped the transaction halfway and got stuck in Rue.

-Thinks are chill for the first year as Rue started gaining a lot of influence, and people were swept into this extreme form of worship to the King god whether they wanted to or not. To the point where some were outcasted for being against it. The King was especially into it and Rue found that he could “suggest” things to him under the guise of “Our lord commands it.”

-This leads to Rue having an insane power trip, and he amps up the religion and it gets stricter, punishment for defiance gets harsher. Very aggressive n fear inducing sermons. People were very eager to please their god and get into Ether, think Puritan levels in that aspect.

-Some quick things, this god is focused around the sun, cause he is the light. So everybody has to be at church by sunrise, and again before sunset. Then tehir are weekly offerings to this god from each family. Any semblance of defiance or you happen to piss of Rue, you’d be labelled as a Heathen and burned in the pyre in the middle of the main church. It was very much a public spectacle.

-Now while they worshiped this god, they also kinda worshiped Rue. Viewing him as a Demi-God of sorts, and he made sure this image of perfection was kept.

-This cult also had this idea that your mind and body where in the way of you getting to Ether and tainting you. So you had to get rid of these inhibitors. So the “lucky” few got special rituals done on them in private, by Rue and a few ‘trusted’ clergy. In this ritual they numb your body by submerging you in freezing water and injecting you with a numbing agent. For your mind, cause it’s in the far past, they’d just drug you to hell and back. From this you’d have pretty violent hallucinations, which Rue says is the demons trying to blacken the soul, and you must fight them off.

-Ritual also included tossing hot gold coins fresh off the stove into the water. Gold was considered pure, and this god had a gold and white motif going on.

-Did some people die from this? Yes, but that’s because “They were too weak and succumbed to the demons.”

-So through all this Rue knows it’s all bullshit, but he’s reveling in this power. He went from being some ingredient in somebody’s plan to being the one pulling all the strings. And subconsciously he starts thinking himself as higher than everybody else, more than human. Only refer to him as “Your Grace”, or your going into the fire.

-There are two ending, both ending with the Kingdom in Ruin.

Bad end: Rue gets absolutely bored with this and moves on, he announces that the Kingdom is damned no matter what they do, burns a fourth of the capitol down and leaves with a bang.

Eh End: This would be through intervention of another character, Rue will start letting go of this complex a bit and relax his control on the people. Might even become benevolent. But this person he cares for will face the repercussions of being associated so closely with him, because the king and those in the high Clergy will be upset with the special treatment and target the poor fool. Not to mention the shit Rue will put them though with his cult antics.

For all this he’d feel hella guilty for all the shit he’s pulled. He’s basically just locked it all up til now, and it’s crushing. So he flies the coop, leaves the city at night without a word. People wake up and everything is chaos, they believe the gods have abandoned them. The Clergy and the king try and take over, restore the harsh cult ruling, but fails as the general populace aren’t fucking having it from these jerks. Who are somehow worse than Rue.

Rue goes off, does some sulking in some ruins. Goes off and finds a small seaside town to live in, far far away. He ends up helping an old lady run her flower shop, and takes over when she dies. He’s pretty lonely but enjoys the flowers.

It doesn’t last as the people from the original cult have found him out, and need to complete their ritual. So they basically tie him down and burn down the shop with him in it. The flames of this fire burn brighter than the sun, white and gold. The towns people have a small funeral for their recluse flower shop man, but these people come back and desecrate the grave to erase his existence.

While usually he’d be reincarnated as normal, probably go to “Hell” for all that nonsense, he’s also filled with magic. Which usually leads to some emotional elemental sprite of some sort running wild and dangerous. But also has the favor of the gods because: the King God had a massive ego boost from his increase in followers, they are fickle af, and they kinda feel bad cause they could have 100% stopped the original cult part that lead to everything else.

So Rue’s soul is wiped from this plane of existence. And he basically becomes a god himself. With a body of flame and melting gold.

Good ending: Bold of you to assume there is one. Where he doesn’t make a cult and lives a relatively normal life.

#verse//cult

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fantroll-purgatory · 6 years

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Malvas Temess

@persephoneanmystery

(Dersites, dersites- where would we be without ‘em? Sometimes, dissatisfaction only leads to nonsense. And misery.)

You already know this, but I Love Him?

Universe: Beforus!

Name: Malvas Temess

“Malvas” is a corruption of “Malphas” one of the 72 demons of the Ars Goetia, reflecting the nature of the last two trolls as tempting/guiding/advising figures to Parisa. Malphas specifically is in the form of a crow, and destroys men’s thoughts- a sly reference to Breath. “Temess” is a corruption of “Tempest” as in “Stormy, tumultuous, volatile”.

Malphas is also known to openly accept sacrifices, but then deceive and betray those who provide the sacrifices, which I think is fun for this ‘tricking people to do dumb shit for him’ thing.

Age: Roughly 7 Sweeps

Theme/Story: Malvas really doesn’t care what happens to you, as long as it’s interesting. Ideally he can film whatever unfortunate event befalls you and post it on the internet as well, boosting his fame as a video maker. Malvas thrives on getting other people to do the work for him, and he lives for the drama, which makes him a dangerous friend to have.

Ohhh gosh, I just realized he reminds me a little bit of the first antagonist from Psycho Pass. Not really as far as motivation goes, but there’s an adjacent outlook. So I might use just a little bit of Shogo Makishima in my visual design later.

Strife Specibus: Sniperkind

Malvus likes to stay far away from the action, and doesn’t like to take damage. He is a goldblood after all, and any damage he takes will last, unlike those highbloods right there. They can take a hit and be just fine.

Definitely makes sense for someone who likes to watch from a distance! It also gives him the excuse to choose a perch, which gets him Off The Ground, literally reinforcing his breath theme.

Fetch Modus: ????

{I’m stumped on this one}

Vine/Do It For The Vine Modus! It’s pretty simple, he’s just got to take a 6 second video that involves the object in order to free it up for use. Vine Was a great way to put out a ton of clever quick videos to gather attention. He could do something neat with the objects. …Or he could just put the objects on his head and mock highbloods (especially the culling foster parents) like Vine Teens used to do with random objects used to represent their mothers.

Blood color: Gold

Malvas knows he’s a genius, and that’s the scary part. Like most goldbloods, he prides himself on his intelligence, but he hides it behind a sort of airhead, easy going personality. He plays the hypeman because he knows it’ll make him good money. It’s all in how he phrases it, it’s all in the editing. Like many of his caste, he has a tendency to be a neurotic when it comes to his videos, and refuses to publish the ones he puts effort into until they’re absolutely perfect.

Symbol and meaning: Here we go!

GEMUN, THE UNBRIDLED

Trolltag: [CT] cleverTapinosis

“Tapinosis” is the rhetorical, fancy word for “name calling”. It’s a good way to goad people into acting rashly and without thought to the consequences of their actions, y’know?

Love itttt.

Quirk: #Just do it maaaaaaaan #what are you afraaaaaiiiiiiidddd ooooooffffff? #It’s gonna look so SICK just do itttttttttttt

Much like he’s subposting on a certain social media platform, Malvas starts all of his phrases off with hastags, which helps demarcate the flow of his thoughts when the enter key won’t. He draws out his words because it helps add to his “causal and breezy” facade.

God this is really good.

Special Abilities (if any): Malvas’ proximity to highblood is fueled in part by his own disabilities. Inflicted with a psionic disease akin to voidrot from an early age, his eyes have started to lose pigment and his psionics have all but burnt out completely. Thanks to revolutionary culling technology, he’s mostly able to lead a full life, but it’s at the expense of his privacy.

Lusus: Speaking of privacy, much of Malvas’ life has been without it. As a culled lowblood, he’s been at the mercy of highblood ever since he was a youngin. He’s bounced from place to place, from Purple clownhouses to underwater, Violet palaces. Regarded as a curiosity, a burden, and worse, Malvas fled into hiding as soon as he was able. One of highblood friends keeps his life support systems in check. She’s handy like that.

Parisa’s doin’ at least a bit of good. I love thinking about the dynamic these two would have.

Interests: Gaining Lots of Money, Lowblood Culture, Social Media (Short videos especially), ?????

Video editing, obviously. And if he’s interested in gaining lots of money, he probably knows a lot about SEO. And he could be interested in Affective Science, since understanding the science behind anger/competitiveness/etc would be of great help to him in goading people.

Appearance: Partially due to trying to conform to everyone’s idea of a perfect lowblood, Malvas is something of a boring looking troll. Until you get a good look at his face. Instead of gaining color as he ages the way a normal troll would, his have steadily gotten darker and darker. Without the aid of the mechanical life support system regularly cleaning his blood of psionic residues, he’d be black eyed and blind a long time ago. Truly, it’s just a ticking clock now…

Most important to Malvas’ look is the backpack-like extension of his life support, which he shouldn’t take off for long periods of time. He tries to hide it beneath coats and such, but it’s not particularly effective.

Personality: Malvas is detached and much too cunning for his own good. He hides a ruthless, all consuming anger beneath a facade of chill. Perhaps had his life not turned out the way it did it would not be such a pose. He has the potential to be the kind of zen friend that a lot of violent highbloods would need to keep them from blowing smoke, but instead he has internalized and become the very thing he hates.

There’s a kind of sadism, a spiteful hate that fills him, much like his murky blood fills his eyes with darkness. There’s nothing more pleasing than watching the people who mistreated him (that is to say, all of highblood society) destroy themselves and each other with just the slightest nudge. A little suggestion here and there is all it takes. This also leads him to be a bit full of himself, but it manifests in a smug aura as opposed to recklessness. He knows his physical limitations all too well, and feels that his mission is too important to risk dying. He’s on borrowed time, and they have all the time in the world.

This is Really good because he’s taking that classic breath leadership, that natural tendency for people to gravitate towards him and follow his lead, and instead of being like a good person to follow he’s shoving the lemmings off the cliff. That’s such a great way to play the breath route with him. Maybe you could also add a little element of him using disposable accounts to dredge up internet drama between other internet personalities. Big fights between various trollter Famous stans, passively creating the direction of aggression. (And it helps that this elevates Parisa a little bit, whether or not he would direct drama her way. Any publicity is good publicity).

Title: Sylph of Breath

Active Classes That Remain: Maid,

Passive Classes That Remain: Sylph

Malvas is very much a Breath player: he’s easygoing to a fault, capricious, and well content to sit on the backlines and let things flow over him. Gemun is called The Unbridled for a reason- Malvas is the kind of troll who doesn’t let other people tie him down, even as he exploits them for his own monetary gain.

It’s often assumed that as a passive creation class, Sylphs are to be something of the most helpful classes. And much of the time, this is true. But Malvas is not your saving, guardian angel. Passive creation of Breath is the same as the Active Destruction of Bonds. Since his main clientele are highbloods, one could argue that he’s Destroying Blood, namely theirs, the highest and most prized.

Malvas is the “Do It For The Vine” hype man as an extension of his class. Wreck your car! Gamble away your savings! Risk your life! Ruin your public standing! By encouraging his “friends” to do these things, he is passively creating movement and freeing them of their shackles.

Nothing says “clean slate” quite like burned bridges.

LOL god I LOVE this for him. Because he is doing a little bit of that classic sylph meddling, but it’s in the most destructive way. Instead of trying to nudge people on the right path, he’s shoving them off the railway. Even as someone who does videos and stuff, he creates trends, which makes him a direction-based leader. He makes the path and the people follow. He can influence people to do all kinds of risky and wild and friendship-destroying shit, it’s just brilliant.

Land: The Land of Stone and Statues

Malvas fears death viscerally upon landing on this massive land of dark stone, built into towers so high they block out the sun. His consorts have long since died out, but they seemed to have been great builders.

How they did it? It would seem to be an army of statues, bound to each site by some kind of advanced cable. But something’s gone wrong- the cables that were supposed to give them life have become ropes that strangle them. They will never move again without help. It’s up to Malvas to try and restore some freedom of movement.

Dream Planet: Derse

As a lowblood, Malvas is well aware of his position on Beforus as someone who’s not considered “able” to make it in the world. This kind of pity insults and infuriates him, so he’s spent his whole life emulating the ways of the highbloods, creating a easygoing, subservient persona to better fool them with. Watching them burn for the aesthetic is sweeter than any mind honey.

Design:

Horns/hair: I just wanted the horns to reflect the symbol, nice and simple. The hair is mildly based off Shogo’s mullet.

Face: I wanted him to look relatively chill and calm, but also have that hint of tiredness and smugness. Thus the smirk that’s approaching a 3-mouth.

Outfit: I wanted to keep things relatively simple, but wanted to give him some mild visual interest regardless. A white coat with a big but simple collar, with some deformation to show that there’s something hidden beneath it. You can see a peak of a backpack strap with some settings as well as a few small tubes filtering his murky blood. His pants and shoes are just ripped and edited from Cronus’.

Once More, I Love Him.

-CD

#persephoneanmystery #malvas temess #malvas #temess #goldblood #yellowblood #review #redesign #cd review #submission

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