#there are just too many of them and it turns into a Heap visually

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐫

Thieves came in many different forms — from Loki to a simple villager, or to a horse with the mind of a trickster and a heart of gold.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ⇁ Viking!Bucky Barnes x Fae!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ⇁ 1.4k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ⇁ Fluff, a bit of crack, Ragnar is a cheeky boy

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ⇁ This visual was too funny to pass up. ⇁ This is also a fic purely made for the bond between Mouse and Ragnar, so if you are big on the troublemaker, this isn't one to miss!

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ⇁ Forbidden Friendship by John Powell

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ⇁ @rookthorne's Merry Buckmas — Masterlist

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐤𝐨𝐠𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The frigid chill of the morning air made puffs of mist billow from Ragnar’s nostrils while he stood alert by your side. You watched curiously while his ears flicked back and forth; never stopping unless you made a noise to call his attention. 

His hooves, all four coloured with dark keratin, scuffed the snow as he sniffed the air. 

From your place by his feet, you rested your head on his leg and trailed your fingertips over the muscles of his lower limbs with awe — a warrior's mount, fierce and strong, the most loyal and steadfast of any creature, could still be as gentle, as sweet. 

It fascinated you. 

“What is it that you see?” you asked the horse quietly, your eyes trailing over the line of trees. “Bear is fast asleep, boy—you know he is in the cave.” Ragnar knickered, low in his throat, then he nuzzled at your head, pushing your temple into his leg. “What?”

The light colours of his mane flew as he tossed his head towards a mound of snow to your side. 

“Do you want to play–?” A soft huff of misted breath settled over the top of your head in reply, and Ragnar waited patiently as you got to your feet. “I will take that as a yes.” You placed a hand on his bare shoulder and scratched gently at the soft fur — the saddle he wore placed in the cave the previous night. 

You couldn’t help but giggle as he stepped closer and turned, forcing you to move with him towards the mound of snow where he blew harshly over it, scattering the flurries. 

“Oh, no—here,” you said, and you kneeled down to cup a handful of snow. “This is what you do.”

For a few moments, you repeated the gesture: holding up handfuls of snow to his muzzle so he would blow over the heaped snow and send the flurries all over your face and clothes. His dark eyes stared at you, bright under the morning sun, and he snorted in apparent laughter. 

“You are very funny, skitr,” you grumbled, and you shook your head to rid yourself of the worst of it. “A snow creature would be fun to make—what do you think?”

There was a deep sigh that shook his nostrils. “I thought so.”

Heavy footsteps snapped twigs and scattered pebbles behind you, followed by the sound of a deep, rumbling voice. “What are you planning, little Mouse?”

You turned towards the source — Bucky was standing at the mouth of the cave. His eyes were hooded with the remnants of his deep, bewitched sleep, but he smiled widely upon seeing both you and Ragnar together. “Góðan morgin, Bear.” 

His boots crunched over the fallen snow, and he kissed your temple before scratching Ragnar’s chin. 

“We were going to create snow creatures,” you explained happily, looking into Ragnar’s face. The stallion seemed happier for Bucky being awake. “He was just playing with the snow—but now we must get to work.”

“Do you need carrots?” Bucky asked, pulling a few from his satchel and offering them to you. 

You beamed at him. “They will help! They can be the creature’s nose—what do you think, Ragnar?”

The stallion eyed the carrots eagerly, and Bucky laughed as he placed them in your outstretched hand. “Better err on the side of caution, minn sváss. He is a devil when it comes to his favourites.”

Under the watchful eye of Ragnar, you began to build something from the heaped snow — at first, it resembled something akin to a mushroom, the kind that grew fat and thick from the earth’s soil. “Hmm.”

Bucky kneeled beside you. “Why not try–” His hands ran over the snow, morphing and shaping it as he worked. You could not help but watch his eyes as they hardened with focus, how his lips pulled taut over his teeth, and the tip of his tongue poked out to the side. “There you are.”

His hands came away from the snow to reveal a creature of sorts. A giant, circular body, like Mani and Sol above, and a second, smaller rounded ball of snow on top. “Oh–”

“We could put the sticks–” Bucky gestured towards the twigs and sticks at Ragnar’s hooves. “They can be the creature’s arms? And then, perhaps the carrot can be the nose?”

“That sounds wonderful,” you replied, and you reached over to grab a handful of sticks. Ragnar sniffed your wrist as you grasped a few, and he followed your hand as you pulled it back to stick one end into the big ball of snow. “The pinecones…”

Ragnar snuffled at a clustered heap of the dried fauna, and with his lips, he pushed a few closer towards the body of the creature. “Good boy,” Bucky praised, grabbing them. “They can be the fastenings of a cloak, or the mouth and eyes, maybe, Mouse?”

You nodded. “The eyes and mouth sound best—our friend needs to see. And I will put the carrot here–” the fat end of the vegetable stuck easily into the packed snow. “There we are! Look at it, it is beautiful!”

Bucky sat back on his heels, admiring the work the two of you had put into it. You were dizzy with excitement at the creation of a new friend, and before you could click your finger to bring them to life, Ragnar’s mouth inched suspiciously close to the carrot sticking out from the snow. “Ah, ah! Ragnar–”

The stallion nickered, blew a harsh snort, and turned his head to look at you. If he were a boy, or a man, you knew he would be pouting in protest. “No.” Your hand scratched his cheek, and you gently pushed away from the tempting treat. “You will leave it alone.”

A quiet laugh came from Bucky. “I told you– Oh, no.”

While you were looking at Bucky, Ragnar had inched his head closer to the carrot once more and grabbed the tip with his teeth. 

You were going to grumble your frustrations at the cheeky, pesky stallion, but before you opened your mouth to speak, he took off. His legs worked in a haughty trot, the stride of it arrogant and swift. “Ragnar! Come back!”

The snow ruffled beneath your feet as you stood up and took off after the runaway thief. “Ragnar! Stop—that is not yours!”

Bucky’s laughter behind you was contagious and you couldn’t help but laugh yourself through the harsh gasps for air. It burned your lungs with the chill of the forest, but Rangar refused to slow down — content to allow you to chase him and your quarry. Loud, humorous snorts sounded each step of Ragnar’s front hooves, every one prouder than the last.

“I will not be bested by a beast,” you called, and Ragnar whinnied back, jumping from the ground in leaps. “Ragnar!”

You collided painfully with Ragnar’s flank when he stopped abruptly, and you bounced off of it into the snow with a surprised grunt. The stallion stared down at you, his eyes bright and glinting with triumph, but he did not lower his head; a wiser animal than you gave him credit for. “Please—please may I have that back, boy?”

“Do as you are bid, Ragnar,” Bucky shouted from the other side of the clearing — you had not realised how far you had chased the thief. 

Ragnar grunted, and shook his head, the white of his mane flowing with the movement.  

“You, boy,” you said, pointing a finger at his nose. “You are a mischievous creature fit for Loki himself.”

Seemingly affronted, he narrowed his eyes and grunted again. You could just hear in your mind: “How you could compare me to such a devil.”

“Because you are one, Ragnar,” you whined, and you pouted up at him. “A devil. You stole my creature’s nose!”

His hooves brushed the bottoms of your feet. The proximity of such a large animal was daunting, but you took a deep breath as Ragnar lowered his head, placing his forelock on your temple, and, mercifully, dropping the carrot in your lap. You placed your hands on the sides of his mouth, and a low, comforting nicker sounded and vibrated over your palms. 

The two of you stayed as still as an oak, staring into one another’s eyes. “Thank you, my Ragnar,” you whispered, “For giving it back. You are not such a devil as you seem.”

Dark eyes travelled over your face, and you heard, in your mind, “My Mouse.”

You smiled and kissed his forelock. “Let us go back.”

Kinn Seggr = Cheeky Boy góðan morgin = good morning minn sváss = my sweet skitr = shit

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #rookthorne's works

[joaneunknown]

What does it take to be a writer? Well, it is more than just writing...

Maybe you have been thinking that you have the talent and the creativity to become a writer and have been planning to begin your first book. Honestly, being a writer, even if you aren't well-known and you don't have too many readers besides your family and friends, is way more than just writing.

And, as I have been writing for almost two years now and with two books on the market, I have got a taste of how it is to be a writer even if I am part of the writers that struggle building a small heap of readers month by month. With all that has been said, here are ten things a writer must do besides writing

1. Maintaining a consistent reading habit

I have said this a thousand times but reading improves everything you write. It inspires, it makes you create other versions of a situation, it takes you to different worlds and ultimately, reading teaches you how to write. Having a consistent reading habit means, from my point of view, always reading something. Maybe not every single day but constantly having a "now reading" book. Read how many books you can in a month, whether that would be one or three or five or even ten books a month! Reading is your tool as a writer, don't let it collect dust.

2. Daydreaming/Brainstorming every single minute of the day

Daydreaming as a writer is also a vital tool. If you don't daydream, then you won't come up with a book idea or even a short-story idea. You constantly have to let your mind wonder and daydream. Yes, most ideas coming from daydreaming are shit but if you know how to select the ones that are worth transforming into a book, then half of your job is done. If you have an idea, then the rest of the writing will flow right through.

3. Motivating themselves to keep going

Personally, there have been a few times where I found myself lost in a rabbit hole with no exit. I didn't know what to write and how to write it because all the writing I was doing at the time was just flat with no flavors added. And, somehow, I got out of it even when I thought that writing was no longer my calling. Of course, I got over that quite quickly by thinking of what I could write, and the pleasure writing gives me.

4. Thinking out of the box

Now, I consider that writing isn't for everybody because when you are writing you must think out of the box and think of all the stories and plots that exist. Sometimes, that is not as easy as every single one of us (especially the writers that are just starting out) has a larger or smaller fear of being judged. Judging nowadays comes from the tiniest pieces of crap, so I came to the conclusion that no matter what I would write about, people are always going to judge it.

5. Visualizing their story

Mentally, I think all writers visualize their stories and turn them into movies. Visualizing your story should be active most of the time even when you are not writing because it can reveal new ideas and possibilities that you haven't seen before.

6. Being designers

Even if you are a self-published author or a traditional published one, all writers desgin their books' covers. If you are like me, a person with no artistic talent like painting, drawing or sketching, then you will have a problem turning your imaginary design created in your mind into a physical drawing or painting. I did that with both of my eBooks and luckily for me I had such a good designer that visualized the cover of my books better than I did. But, although it may seem like the easy part that comes with being a writer, it truly isn't. Your book must have a cover that relates to it and that could attract readers to it too!

7. Being some good damn researchers

Researching is vital for any kind of book, and, thanks to the internet, you have all the sources to come up with a good research project. Researching ends only when you are done with your book because while writing the book whether that would be in the middle or the end, you still need certain information to make your story more credible.

8. Having managerial and marketing skills

Marketing your book and yourself as a writer is also a part of this job, especially when you don't have a team behind your name. I, for one, understand how hard it is to market and manage your books so that people don't forget about them two days after you release them. Luckily, social media platforms are a great way to market, manage and promote yourself as a writer but it does take a lot of time and patience to build a platform.

9. Being a harsh editor and a pretentious reader

Editing is a very hard job to do that gets even harder when you are editing your own writing. Why? Because as a writer you think your writing is impeccable and to edit your books properly, you must be harsh and cruel. If it doesn't seem interesting to you, cut it. If it is too flat, grow it out. If it doesn't make sense, delete it. And I could go on with such examples for the next eight hours. Being a pretentious reader helps you edit your draft more than any other editorial skills. Having high standards for your writing does nothing but improve it.

10. Being vulnerable

All writers must be vulnerable in their writing. Writing is the place where you let it all bleed and not all people are courageous enough to expose themselves in such a way. I, for one, consider that writing is for people with thick skin because it takes a lot of strongness to put your pain out there. Not only that but you have to dig deep into yourself to make your work heartfelt and emotional and, even if not all readers notice it, there is always more behind a beautifully written story. Beautifully written stories start with a hurting soul and end up with a healed one...

With all this being said, what are you waiting for? Grab a pen and something to write on and begin your writing journey today! Remember, write what entertains you and it might also become something that entertains others!

"Start before you are ready" - Steven Pressfield

This is Joane Unknown, thank you for reading this week's Talking Unknown post and get ready for another one next week. More at the link in my bio👇

#writers on tumblr #writer things #writing inspiration #writing advice #writerscorner #book blog #writing book #books #book genres #my writing #authors #teen author #teen writer #novel #blogger #bibliophile #writing progress #writing #writer advice #writerslife #writerblr #writersofinstagram #writersociety #bookaholic #bookworm #bookbookbook #advice #publishing #writing process #writing practice

[sisididis]

Just watched Jujutsu Kaisen 0 and here are some impressions! Disclaimer: This post contains spoilers so read at your own risk! 

Yuta is such a lovable kid! I loved everything about his backstory and character development. I can’t wait to see more of him in the next season. 

Suguru meeting Yuta for the first time and asking him “Have you ever questioned the current state of the world?” after giving him the spiel about “I believe great power ought to be used toward great ends” is giving 'Do you have a moment to talk about our Lord Jesus Christ?' but in Jujutsu Kaisen terminology. 

Did Suguru purposefully change that cursed woman’s family name (‘Saitou’ to ‘Satou’) because her name reminded him of Satoru? (‘Saikō’ = ‘the best’)

Watching what Suguru has become after the 10 year time-skip drop-kicked me into all five stages of grief. I refuse to believe that the kindest, gentlest and most inoffensive of them all, the proponent of “the survival of the weakest — that’s the proper form society should take” and “sorcerers exist to protect non-sorcerers” turned around and did a 180. That is NOT my boy! I do not recognize him!

And how did Satoru also known as Mr. ‘I-hate-righteousness-and-moral-arguments' become what Suguru had fought so hard to be in the first place? What is this cruel irony?

The transition from the bleak memory of Satoru preparing to “kill” Suguru in Shinjuku to the setting sun as seen from the high school’s upper levels is a multilayered visual masterpiece. It’s the sun that set on Satoru and Suguru’s friendship.

Also, I can’t believe that I did not make the connection between the two young girls from Suguru’s memories and the two girls who fought for him in Tokyo sooner! Those were the village scapegoats that he had saved from their death all those years ago! Wow! Talk about undying loyalty!

When Maki, Inumaki and Panda rushed to Yuta’s aid, Suguru’s reaction (“I am incredibly touched right now. Jujutsu sorcerers are sacrificing themselves for a fellow sorcerer! The world I long for is here before my eyes”) is very telling of the predicament he was in before his banishment. For someone like him — who did more self-sacrificing than have others sacrifice themselves for him — the foursome’s friendship must have reawakened some old resentments and memories of loneliness.

"He [Satoru] handled all of his missions, and Shoko was never sent out on dangerous missions in the first place. which naturally meant that I was sent on missions alone more often, too." - Suguru in 'Premature Death'

Geto explaining to Yuta how to imbue a curse without breaking the vessel mid-battle just shows that all he needed was a conversation partner I’m being delusional.

I will never not find it strange how quickly Shoko got over Geto’s betrayal. Even in the movie, her reaction to seeing countless sorcerers wounded because of Geto’s friends is: “You really forced a heap of trouble on us, Geto.” And even in ‘Premature Death’, when she bumps into Geto in Shinjuku and Gojo asks her to hold Geto up until he arrives, all she says is “Now way! I don’t want to die.” That was YOUR classmate and friend! Geto was right in saying “I’m not holding out hope that everyone will understand.” They didn’t even try to understand him!

Holy crap! Geto swallowed 4461 curses in his 27 years of life? No wonder that poor guy turned evil.

Could Yuta and Geto’s lines before the final showdown (“It’s pure love.” ; “Then I fight for justice.”) have a deeper meaning? Is this Gege’s way of telling us that if Geto had chosen Gojo love, he would have still been alive? 

Geto’s last words.

“No matter what anyone says, I hate those monkeys. But I never held any hatred for those in Jujutsu High. I just couldn’t wear a heartfelt smile in this world.”

His mission to kill all non-sorcerers was nothing but a call for help that fell on deaf ears a suicide mission from start to finish. No matter how many non-sorcerers he would have killed, he would have never been happy or at peace.

“My best friend. The only one I had.” 

*pulling my hair*

Ugh, what an ending! 

#my entries #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen 0

[niannianyabao]

Silent Hill Downpour

[Apologies for the late arrival, readers. Please enjoy this last look into the Silent Hill franchise, and prepare to enjoy some Dumas-inspired analysis to take this franchise’s place in the future.]

The final stop on our tour (because at present there’s nothing I can say about PT’s present that hasn’t been covered more adroitly, and it hasn’t been long enough for a real post-mortem; and Book of Memories isn’t part of the mainline canon) is the first draft of a really great Silent Hill game. This was tragically undermined by the fact that it got lumped into Konami’s shortsighted attempt to flood the market with three SH games during its 2012 “Month of Madness,” and the fact that despite getting delayed multiple times the final product was still a bug-ridden mess on top of the arguable conceptual problems. I mean, it came out better than the HD Collection, but desiccated corpses repurposed as compost heaps come out with a better smell of quality than the HD Collection did.

The main protagonist – well, the player character (more on that later) of Downpour is Murphy Pendleton (David Boyd Konrad), a prison inmate who winds up in Silent Hill when the bus transporting him to a maximum security facility crashes at the edge of town. Murphy is pursued by dogged police officer Anne Cunningham, and haunted by the town’s usual bag of head-spelunking hallucinations. You can watch a pretty thorough walkthrough of it here (alas, I’ve never found a version with commentary that particularly appealed).

Structure and Patchwork Feelings

This game is brimming with so much potential it hurts: Murphy has one of the most solid narratives of the latter-day Silent Hill protagonists (I’m excluding carryover like Shattered Memories), and the second-best lead performance after Brian Bloom’s turn as Alex Shepherd. There are a few amazing set piece scenes, and some genuine pathos too. The level design’s fondness for putting Murphy in tight, deathtrap-filled corridors or shimmying along bottomless pits makes for an effective visual metaphor regarding his conflict in the prison, and the water motif is both well tied to the narrative and effectively gloomy. Even the decision to move outside of Silent Hill’s usual locales mostly allows for some unique levels, though it should perhaps be concerning that some of the most unnerving moments are ones that take Murphy out of the player’s control (the mine cart is the best but not the only example).

It’s just a shame about all the decisions holding those good things together.  The monster designs are for the most uninspired, comprised mostly of humanoids with some matter of facial deformity (which can be done well but requires getting much closer to the monsters in much better lighting than the game encourages), and many of them seem to have very little to do with Murphy’s internal conflicts (more on that later).

The nightmare world segments, while initially harrowing in their use of dream logic (the lengthening hallways), eventually become repetitive experiences of literally being chased by nothing until you reach the exit (a gameplay mechanic that was very much the low point of Shattered Memories). And while exploring the town was an appealingly eerie aspect of the first two games that got lost with time, the actual execution of the open-world approach in Downpour mostly results in padding, with the main narrative being forcibly stripped of quite a few characterizing details and looking downright anemic as a result. But if we’re talking fumbles, nothing quite matches up to the last hour of the game.

Choose Your Own Meaningless Ending

Amid all of the things that don’t work, the unilateral exception is the plot thread dealing with Murphy’s grief over the loss of his son (the fact that this is a thread being part of the Murphy-the-Protagonist problem). The entire orphanage section is a triumph, acted with devastating anguish by Konrad and paced with deliberate sureness in a way that threads in Murphy’s own issues with the town’s surreal monstrosities and even makes the Designated Pyramid Head Stand-In feel warranted. The level goes through the paces of Murphy’s core struggle and more or less resolves them, laying out a small slice of story about the hollowness of revenge and grief.

It’s powerful stuff, and even though this is basically the point where it stops being justifiably Murphy’s story and goes back to infringing over on what should be Anne’s struggle regarding her father, its length is far from a detriment to its effectiveness.

What IS a detriment is that the context of this scene can be entirely undermined by the ending, up to and including the revelation that Murphy killed Charlie himself. The goal in making the endings mutable based on Murphy’s in-game behavior seems clear, another attempt to translate something SH2 did well while potentially building on it. But there is a fundamental misunderstanding of how the SH2 endings functioned at play here, and it very nearly cripples Murphy’s arc unless a player studiously sets out to ignore certain parts of canon.

The facts of James’ story, those being the events which lead him to come to Silent Hill, are immutable. No matter what the player does, it will always be true that James suffocated his terminally ill wife with a pillow. What the player’s actions – neglecting healing items, ignoring or protecting Maria, dwelling on certain imagery – affect is only James’ motivation in the thing that he definitely always did, as well as his ability to gain closure in regards to that concrete fact. Even Homecoming understood this, keeping Alex’s death consistent even when it played around with whether Alex had left the mental institution or not.

But Murphy’s story can involve anywhere from 0 to 3 murders, each with their own gradient of severe implications for the character and each with the power to undermine the parts of the game that do stay the same from playthrough to playthrough. Without a consistent point of origin Murphy is a cipher and his struggles are meaningless as a protagonist. The only way there would’ve been a sliver of a chance to successfully present Murphy as a Rorschach test of a character would’ve relied on the something the game refuses to do: focus on its far clearer choice for protagonist.

Murphy and Anne

The thing about Silent Hill games is that they are all, by and large, one person’s story. That person is not always the player character – Harry doesn’t grow or change much but is a vessel for discovering Alessa’s story, and the same can arguably be said of Henry and Walter – but there is almost always one source at the core of however Silent Hill has chosen to look for its present set of visitors. Even Travis, who shared time with Alessa by the nature of the way the game was structured, more or less had his own through line of monsters and conflict that happened to cross over with Alessa’s past rather than being directly related to it.

Murphy and Anne’s stories, uniquely, are heavily intertwined. Or rather, the fallout of Murphy’s narrative lead to the beginning of Anne’s. If Murphy doesn’t owe Sewell a favor there’s no setup for Anne’s father to get stabbed, therefore no reason for Anne to dedicate her life to a slowly consumptive need for revenge, therefore no prison transfer or drive past and subsequent crash outside of Silent Hill. But by the same token, Silent Hill 3 doesn’t happen without Claudia – her backstory is also heavily connected to Heather’s, and her actions cause the events of the game. But Heather is still the protagonist. It is still a story about her, one that she has an active stake in moving forward rather than simply trying to escape.

Downpour seems to think its narrative structure is a revisiting of SH2, wherein it was clear that something was affecting Angela and Eddie between their various meetings with James. The difference, the thing that ultimately puts Anne closer to Claudia than Angela, Eddie, Vincent, or even the other “lost” souls Murphy sees wandering the town, is that she has agency and goals. She concretely exists outside of Silent Hill (while the other SH2 characters could quite easily be argued as James’ projections), and the monsters reflect her struggles far more than Murphy’s (unlike Cybil, who is likewise a cop but doesn’t have much inner life outside of helping Harry).

The central boss of the prison confrontation, the climax of Murphy’s struggle before he’s literally transformed into the game’s personification of vengeance, involves a Coleridge Murphy would never have seen. It’s the Coleridge Anne describes looking at for years only to see “a monster,” and the colossal effort the player undertakes as Murphy to unplug the monster from life support was likely Anne’s real life agony. So why is Murphy the one facing a nightmare version of it? What meaning does it have to him, when his pain is centered in the moment when he failed to save a good man (who, as far as he knew, died in that moment)?

This disconnect is present in some of the other monster designs as well – one could make a stretch of an argument that the overwhelmingly female monsters Murphy faces down are representative of his wife blaming him for Charlie’s death, say, but it’s far more compelling to connect them to the “terrible things” Anne bitterly describes doing in pursuit of her revenge – but the wheelchair monster is really the bow on top of the entire package. She isn’t even playable in her own final boss fight (in the scene that determines Murphy as monster or man, another reflection of Anne’s struggle), and her ability to embrace forgiveness is tied to Murphy (the player)’s actions throughout the game rather than her own.

To call it baffling is to undersell the state of things considerably. The “first draft” aspect winds up creeping in again, since there might have been a way to experiment with a full-on dual playable protagonist model that incorporated both Anne and Murphy’s contributions to the central strategy. But that’s not what the game is, and the resulting mess leaves its most promising gems just outside of the player’s reach. Poorly handled promise can often be more frustrating to grapple with than an overall bad product with a few redeeming features, and Downpour is no exception. While there’s enough done well to make it worth remembering, the fact that this became the (main) swan song for one of gaming’s most well regarded horror series (especially when it might well have been a great game with more time and more thoughtful construction) is nothing short of a shame. Damn you, Konami.

#tiantalk

[aeide-thea]

truly amazing how much 'reclaiming bedroom floorspace' can do for yr sense of serenity and wellbeing

#i had teetering stacks of unsorted clean laundry all over my floor #now a bunch of it is properly away and the rest is in many fewer sorted stacks up against the wall #and even just that much has made it feel significantly more zen #gotta do a little reshuffling to get the rest of it squared away but this has motivated me to move that up #like i don't want to live in a white box but i do want almost no Stuff to sit out #art and small animal figurines only! everything else should have a home and it should live there #the hoodies on my over-the-door rack are on thin ice tbh #there are just too many of them and it turns into a Heap visually #(also the knobs on the rack are fun colors and if you hang too many things there you can't see the colors anymore) #anyway. thank you for yr attention to this riveting disquisition #journaling #mundanities #domesticities

[shrubberylogistic]

Five More Phenomenal Feedism Fics

Okay, time for a quick game! Here’s five more of the best written weight gain stories around - give them a look, and see if you can guess what links them all together! Have fun!  . Perfectus in Mundo - by bobothehobowrites Strung between sheltered feelings and her fractious family, skinny student Aubrey flips a silver dollar that transports her to a world where gorgeous, ample figures are adored - most of all, her own. Struggling to find her feet at a whopping six hundred pounds, she soon sits back into a life of outrageous excess - her slightest doubts smothered under a tidal wave of dotedness and decadence.  A world where perfect is everything... but is it perfect for everyone?  Maybe it’s perfect for you. Give it a flip over! READ IF: You’ve ever had a wish come true... but it’s a great deal more than what you bargained for.  https://www.deviantart.com/bobothehobowrites/art/Perfectus-in-Mundo-I-871403051 .

Welcome to the Fat Parade - by firedog98  Breaking up her band in a beleaguered effort to stay true to herself, emo rocker Ebony Styles sinks into an abyss where only food can numb away the pain, as awkward tubby teenage memories bubble back to the surface. Vice for any budding nihilist, Fat Parade’s soul-stirring descriptions strike a chord like no other - what’s more, you’re treated to cover art in every chapter by the wonderful Peachpeachplumb. Up for a little kitchen-counter-culture? Look no further!

READ IF: Sticking it to the man’s left you feeling a little bit... hungry... 

https://www.deviantart.com/firedog98/art/Welcome-to-the-Fat-Parade-Chapter-1-869206845

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Lady Luck - by Marlow You probably know what a great weight gain story looks like - heck, I mean, that’s exactly why you’re following me here on Tumblr, eyyy... ahaha.... am I right? Amirite? 

-_-   ... honestly though, there’s dribs, there’s drabbles, there’s flashes and then there’s this. Marlow makes monuments; it’s not the first time I’ve listed one of his stories, and it’s unlikely to be the last. Lovingly crafted, Lady Luck is the longest stride I’ve seen this scene come toward producing literal literature. The level of research alone deserves a round of applause. You’d find it hard to pull apart from a screenplay of Sharpe - and even harder to put down once you’ve started!

READ IF: You like big boats and you cannot lie.

https://www.deviantart.com/marlow0/art/Lady-Luck-903432350

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F*ck America - by Dania201 A transatlantic epic - one well worth a thousand and one of your nights. F*ck America plays host to a spunky Jordanian stewardess, skirting through soured relationships, sedentary jobs and ever more frequent feasts of fattening fried kibbeh. It’s the inevitable, but as you’ve never seen it before - with so many twists and turns it’s tough to tell where this ongoing flight of fantasy is coming down to land! 

READ IF: You’ve ever come home from a holiday abroad with a little more jiggle in your step. 

https://www.deviantart.com/dania201/art/F-ck-America-Chapters-1-2-887402425

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Losing Control - by Better-with-Salt We’ve all had the same dream in one way or another. Here it’s in the shape of Sammy Chumak - a tennis ace caught in a net of an unanswerable appetite and a whole heap of freely available frozen food. Any denizen of DeviantArt will be well familiar with Salt’s lauded visual style - but you’ll forty-love the narrative here too. I dearly hope the reception it’s gathered so far spurs on a second comic, but just to be safe, go shower it with favourites!     

READ IF: You ever think about life in the fat lane... Although if you’re looking for the fast lane - check out their Patreon! Those in the know are getting all things Better-with-Salt a whole month in advance, plus NSFW exclusives, works in progress and free sketch livestreams!  https://www.patreon.com/bws/posts

https://www.deviantart.com/better-with-salt/art/Losing-Control-1-885902027

Oh! Have you figured out the link yet? Don’t worry. You’ve got three more days - until 27th March, in fact! ...because (spoiler alert) ...that’s when voting closes for the 2022 Fishery Awards. All five of the fine works of fiction above have been nominated in at least one of the categories. You can cast your votes here! And don’t forget to tick the box for Meatier - my very own triple-nominated apocalyptic WG fic! https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1xew8kTZ_xJRLFcgEt3xOlOJ-xbKifObuv0088X_45lg/viewform?edit_requested=true&pli=1

#weight gain story #weight gain fiction #weight gain stories #wg text #wg fiction #wg fic #wg kink #recommendations #10/10 would recommend

[akawrites000]

hot vs cold

Hero groaned, pulling on that black tie with curled, tense fingers. They've never been a big fan of formal wear, but this particular assignment had called for such a situation. They looked up at the gloomy sky, mind wandering about to how many side jobs heroes actually had to do. People would think being a hero would consist of mostly fighting off villains- and that's true, but villain was the least of their problems right then; in fact, it had almost been a week since they had a face off with villain. When they weren't paying attention, their thoughts would sometimes betray them, making hero think that they almost missed villain. Almost.

Sweat pooled on their brow as they waited under the hot sun, dearly missing the comfort and familiarity of their hero costume. This particular job requirement was that they act as a bodyguard and protect a high profile individual while they attend some sort of a party that hero couldn't be less concerned about. They preferred being the hero and not a bodyguard for someone who they didn't even know.

Just then, a black limousine rolled out and stopped right in front of the hotel they were staying in; a huge man with sunshades got out from the back, waved their hands at hero, signaling them to get in. That must be my ride.

They got into the car without any fight, and took one look at the rear most seat to check if this was in fact their employer or just a fancy way of kidnapping.

"No staring."

"Wha-

Hero didn't have a chance to speak out before they were crushed by the huge man sitting to their left. They couldn't believe it, why did they have to be squished, with no concept of personal space in a limousine?! This was just absurd.

Hero felt another lithe body press to them on their right, that person in turn being squished by another big man to their left. Hero groaned internally, they were just really bad with close contact with people in general, they could never understand why, but it just felt foreign to them. It's like they never knew how to act, and their mind would settle on the default "freak out" option.

Hero was dragged out of their head when they felt themselves being pushed further to the lithe person on their right, because the big guy decided to squirm in his seat. The sweat pooling on their brow slowly slid down their cheekbone, and hero was feeling hot... everywhere. There were too many sensations ramming into them all at once- their tight suit, which felt like it was glued to their body now thanks to their nerves; being pressed to another person; feeling their body heat. Hero had always had a high body temperature so all of this contact was making their head spin.

They just sat there silently, wishing for this agony to just end.

-

Villain was in high spirits, this was a job that paid well, so they enthusiastically got dressed up in a suit that was the dress code for a bodyguard and got into the assigned limousine. They had a mask plus voice changer on for good measure, and nobody questioned that which was good. They were thinking how ironic it was that they accepted this job request, because this was what the heroes did- protecting people, not villains.

So it was an understatement to say that their jaw almost dropped to the floor when they saw hero getting into that same limousine. Villain found themselves gaping at them, their mind betraying them and caring for their nemesis who they met almost every day, in a fight of course.

I can't believe that hero is actually here, so now we have to work together? Do they even know that I'm villain? And they're not even wearing a mask to hide their identity, how irresponsible. Oh, they look good in a suit-

Villain had to stop their mind right there, willing themselves to focus on anything else other than the hero sitting next to them. But these two gorillas on either side of them made that almost impossible as they kept pushing each other closer in this seat that was too small for all of them.

Villain couldn't help but glance over at hero every few minutes, they were being too quiet. The hero they knew was noisy, always running into a fight before thinking, a person that kept jumping around all the time. So seeing them this calm was just... weird.

By now villain was pretty sure that hero didn't recognise them, so they were mentally prepping themselves to talk to them when the gorilla to hero’s left pushed them further into their body. Villain immediately froze. Too close. Hero might as well be practically sitting on them now, villain could feel everything- their breathing, heartbeat, and their body heat, they were practically burning... wait, burning?!

Villain whipped their head towards hero and took in their slumped figure. Their head was downcast so they couldn't really see their face. Hero was practically leaning on them, making no effort to even hold themselves upright and villain was a little worried... okay, a lot more worried than they let on. Hero’s breathing was ragged and villain felt like they had to do something, anything. But hero beat them to it.

"H-hot". Hero breathed out, weakly, pathetically.

Their voice was so low, villain almost didn't hear them.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

Hero propped their head up on their shoulder, lips parted as they gasped in some air, bangs stuck to their sweaty forehead and villain shamelessly drank in those visuals, despite their thoughts clashing with one another. Hero’s eyes were shut tight, while villain’s eyes were wide open, staring at them.

"S' so hot, I can't-" they croaked.

That's when villain painfully realised that hero was having some sort of a panic attack and they needed space. Villain haphazardly pushed at the big man to hero’s left, glaring at him so that he doesn't attempt to move any closer. Then they draped a protective arm around hero, activating their powers and felt weirdly proud when hero almost moaned out at the cold sensation.

Villain brought up their other hand to hero’s face comfortably nestled on their shoulder and gently touched their forehead, cheek and neck.

Hero blinked up at them in slight surprise, eyes opening and then closing as they went limp in their arms, all of their tense muscles relaxing and villain just felt so powerful.

Hero finally looked up at them after regaining a bit of their energy, their face a palette of red, when the car screeched to a stop.

The two of them were ushered out of the car and hero wobbled after the 'mysterious masked person who had saved them' . They were pulled upright by the same person when their balance toppled and they almost ended up kissing the floor, with a "be more careful" from them. Hero felt their face heating up, just how many times did they have to be helped today? A behavior totally unbefitting of a hero.

"Um!" Hero called out and the 'masked person' stopped to turn around and look at them.

Hero was already bowing, words sounding like apologies and gratitude steadily spilling out of their lips in a messed up heap, as they bombarded villain’s ears. Villain wanted to understand, they really did, but all they could pick up were hurried sorries, shy thank you's and the word stranger that kept popping up here and there and how hero was so embarrassed by their own behaviour.

Villain simply scoffed, they had seen far more embarrassing sides of the hero and secretly enjoyed them, their nose scrunching up every time hero called them a stranger and villain couldn't stand it anymore.

As fun as this was, it was time to reveal their masked identity-

"But I'm no stranger to you darling." Villain mocked and the 'goldfish expression' on hero’s face was oh so worth it.

Villain turned around with a smug smile as hero caught up with all of that information and was by their side in a second, screeching into their ears.

"Villain?!"

"Yes, that's me."

Hero groaned, Villain's voice dripped with so much amusement that made hero’s heart flare with embarrassment at that moment.

"I'll punch you after this job." Hero hissed.

Villain smiled, "Is that how you thank people? But lucky for you, I'll accept it and punch you back."

Hero rolled their eyes. "Just shut up. Please."

Villain chuckled and hero couldn't get that voice out of their head. While they were distracted, villain took the opportunity to close in next to their ear and spoke in a sinful tone which should be illegal-

"I-im hot~"

Hero simply tripped on air, falling face first to the ground this time. There was no getting that voice out of their head now. They looked up and glared at villain, who made a funny face and walked away.

Hero hid their face in their hands. "Shit. That's unfair, you shitty villain."

Hero felt another large hand tapping their shoulder and looked up to see one of the gorilla men looking down at them, sympathy written all over his face. Hero took the man's outstretched hand and let themselves be pulled up.

"That was cute, didn't know you both knew each other. But my partner and I," he pointed to the other huge man standing next to the limo and grinning at them, "are totally on your side. That was one underhanded move."

Oh, if hero wasn't embarrassed enough a few seconds ago, they definitely were now.

"Wait, what, how did you-

"I have superhearing." , the man simply said as hero gawked at him, and then started wishing for the ground to swallow them up whole.

BONUS: Every time hero overheated during a fight and felt faint, villain would use their powers to cool them down, and hero would lean into that touch like they could never get enough of it. It attacked villain’s heart every time.

So yeah, my brain decided to give you hero x villain squished together in a limo instead of a bed? New trope? xD

Thank you so much for 260 followers, you all are so precious 🥺❤

#hero x villain #hero #villain #bodyguard au #the gorilla men are best wingmen #fire and ice powers #their employer really doesn't care #they just want to be protected lol #creative writing #writing snippet #my wriitng #writeblr #so everyone ships them #poor hero #lol #the gorilla men are just big softies xD

[lit-in-thy-heart]

Elyan makes Percival this but chainmail

oh my-- 🤣🤣🤣

YES YES YES YOU ABSOLUTE WONDER OF A PERSON

this calls for a ficlet

When Percival returned from patrol, Elyan was sat cross-legged on their bed with a strange garment laid out in front of him across the sheets. Even from the door, Percival could see Elyan's smile flickering stronger than the surrounding candlelight and, infected, Percival felt a grin of his own tug at his lips.

'What have you done now?'

Elyan, still beaming, silently gestured to the bed. Loosening his armour as he walked, Percival strode towards the bed and tilted his head. Instinctively, his hand reached down and his fingertips caught the delicate links forming the chainmail -- Percival could see it was chainmail, nothing else danced like that in candlelight, except perhaps for Elyan's heartbeat -- before moving to Elyan's hands, which were covered in small burns.

'Did you make this?'

Elyan nodded, manipulating his fingers around Percival’s hand. 'I thought it might get Arthur off your back. And mine.'

Raising Elyan's hand briefly to his lips, Percival grinned again. 'Should I try it on?'

'Ideally.'

As Percival eased his current armour over his head, Elyan leaned back against the headboard, covering his mouth with his hand. He automatically moved closer to the other knight when the gambeson was exposed, reaching out towards him, but Percival gently covered the approaching hands with his own.

'I don’t think I need to be completely undressed, Elyan.'

Elyan withdrew. 'Pity.'

Shaking his head, Percival picked up the chainmail and dropped it over his head, struggling to find the corresponding holes for his arms. Without the visual aid of a massive gaping one on either side, it was incredibly difficult to identify any part of the chainmail that wasn't massive metal shroud. With a frown, Percival increased his force, stopping when Elyan found one arm and gripped it tightly.

'You're going to break it,' he gently said. 'Just--Take it slowly. Let me help you.'

'This is why I don't wear sleeves,' grumbled Percival, but allowing Elyan to guide his limbs through the folds in the chainmail all the same.

When he had aligned the garment with his body, Percival looked down at himself and burst into a fit of laughter, raising his arms. The sleeves seemed to exhale like a waterfall, shivering in the breeze that Percival created with his arms, and both Percival and Elyan watched in wonder as the delicate illumination from the candles was imprisoned in the strong threads of metal, the spectacle causing the light to drip down to the floor. Glancing towards Elyan, the smile on Percival’s face softened as he recognised the gentle curve of satisfaction along Elyan's lips.

Elyan, noticing the glance, looked up. 'I hadn't realised that they would be longer than me.'

'You realise that I will have to sleep in this because it will take too long to put on in the morning?'

'This is going to be an interesting night, then,' Elyan replied, biting back laughter.

*

Percival and Elyan, being the model knights they were, were usually early to Round Table meetings but the additional time alone had proved too much for Elyan, who was choking with laughter on the balcony when Gwaine and Lancelot walked in. Gwaine took one look at Percival, sat with his arms folded and his sleeves trailing along the surface of the table, and abandoned his conversation with Lancelot about Merlin's birthday to join Elyan in screaming from the balcony.

Fighting to keep a straight face, Lancelot took his seat and pointedly pushed the end of one sleeve closer to Percival. 'Looks like you've had some tricks up your sleeve.'

From the balcony came the distinct sound of wheezing and a sharp burst of laughter.

Percival responded with a severe nod. 'Yeah, this bad boy can fit so many weapons in it. The enemy is going to have the shock of their life.'

Staring at Percival for several seconds more, Lancelot bowed his head as tears gathered in his eyes and a grin spread across his face. Slowly, as the other knights filed in, he lowered his head until it was resting on the table, his entire body shaking. When Gwen entered with Leon, her eyes immediately jumped to Percival and her hand simultaneously jumped to her mouth. She stood frozen for several moments, before catching on to the renewed laughter coming from the balcony, and slipped through the door leading to the staircase. Unbeknownst to Percival, she never made it past the third step, sinking down on it and dissolving into smothered giggles with her face buried in her hands. Leon remained rooted to the spot, his mouth open.

Arthur, initially, was preoccupied with giving Merlin instructions and didn't pay much mind to the rest of the room until his eyes, having instinctively darted to the space that Gwen usually inhabited, discovered that several of his knights were missing. Then he walked straight into Leon, who still hadn't moved. About to tell Leon to move, Arthur became quietly aware that the echoing noises from above were not coming from crows, as he'd initially dismissed them as, but from said knights. It wasn't until Merlin nudged him that the Regent thought to look at Percival.

Percival, who was still slouched in his chair, arms folded, creating a tablecloth from the sleeves of his chainmail.

'What--What is that?' cried Arthur.

'You're the one who wanted me to wear sleeves,' responded Percival with a shrug.

Gwaine, howling by this point, fell over the side of the balcony, suspended by his belt as Elyan, who was still trying to catch his breath as he caught the accessory, tried to haul him up. As Merlin rushed to help them, he passed a crying Gwen who brushed him away with violent hiccups when he asked if she was alright.

Lancelot had slid from his chair and was in a shaking heap on the ground. Leon, moving from Arthur's path, turned on his heel and exited the room.

Arthur had half a mind to follow suit.

tysm for this, it's actually beautiful, and i don't know how you managed to find that picture but it is s t u n n i n g 💕💕

#i saw the ask and had to bite back laughter #this is actually everything #you're absolutely amazing #thank you for making my day <3 #donttouchtheneednoggle #mutuals #asks #elyan #percival #percival with sleeves #sleeveless percival #except not here #elyan is a little shit #percival is a slightly bigger little shit #knights of camelot #knights of the round table #merlin #bbc merlin

[remsmoonlight]

— title : battle scars

— word count : 2.1 k words

— pairing : daryl dixon x reader

— summary : during a quick run, you fall into some trouble with some walkers though daryl’s love language is spoken with actions and not words.

— warnings : mentions witnessing death, near death experiencing, extremely minor cursing, mentions of blood and gore

           ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　requested     　/     requests are open    *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

okay so i requested this a while ago to someone else and they said they’d write it but i never found it  and i forgot who i asked so i might of missed it, but maybe a walker grabs readers hair or something so she looks for something to tie it up with and daryl gives her his bandana and she just decides to claim it or some cute shit like that??? it’s okay if you don’t wanna♥️♥️

Shap rays penetrate effortlessly through the barred windows, the tatty scraps of cloth providing little protection against the blinding morning sunshine. You pull your arm to cover your eyes, not quite ready to be released from the grips of your slumber.. the nights before a run have always been the most troublesome. Your mind running through every which way the day could turn out, pleading to your mind to focus on the positive outcomes that are always on the table of possibility. Both the positivity and negativity keeping you awake into the late hours.

The only consolation being when you were gifted the image of a blanket of stars over the dark sky, free from any light pollution that was known among many.

“ time to get your ass up, sleepy head. “

You don’t need to remove the arm that lays heavily draped across your head to know who’s familiar drawl that belongs to. Daryl Dixon. His voice in being a quite distinct quality about him. Though there’s more than that you think humorously as a smirk that lazily snakes its way onto your lips.

“ yeah, yeah. I’m up. “ you respond to him as you find yourself focusing on his form in the doorway, clutching the bed linen that serves as a makeshift door in his grip. Your mind wonders if you’ve ever seen him in a state of inactivity that held no tension .

Members of the group continue to filter into the main hall at a leisurely pace, sleep still clinging to their backs in a losing battle.

Sitting off to the side, your gaze settles to the lone male. Daryl nods from you to the space across from him, a bowl laid across from him.

“ thanks for saving me some breakfast. “ you speak, breaking the silence as you pick up the spoon and lifting a heap of oats onto it. Knowing you would need the energy, of course, the world ending brought a new meaning to breakfast being the most important meal of the day.

“ yeh, don’t need ya collapsin’ on me now. “

Amusement tugged at both corners of your mouth as you peer at him, even after all the time had passed, he still doesn’t want to show how much he cares for the people in the group. Even the newcomers from the Woobury group. Of course, you know.. you see what it means to him see everyone safe, to avoid losing yet another member of his new found family to the rotting fingers of death. The finality of death landing heavier blows on his already bruised heart over again is not something he wishes to fall victim to.

“ you know you’ll never get rid of me, I’ll haunt you from my grave! “ you say, joy lighting up your features as you chuckle, momentarily forgetting your breakfast.

A silence embeds itself comfortably between the two of you, something that becomes less and less awkward every time you find yourself in the vicinity of the man. Human contact and communication had to be quickly developed and it wasn’t long before you became comfortable chatting with everyone as if you had known them for years, but Daryl isn’t completely like those members in your group. He speaks with his actions and it took you long enough to realise that, which is why you found no awkwardness sneaking itself around your throat to force words to fall from your lips unwillingly.

“ so, where are we going first? “

“ ‘saw there was a sports store a few miles out a few days ago. they’ll have some’a those bike chains for those fences. “

Nodding in response, you understand it’s nothing more than a simple task. Though, nothing is truly simple now, even something so minor can cost you your life. The first few days you had spent up at the quarry were plagued with nightmares, every day when you saw the sun begin to dim roused a deep fear that bled into your heart, opening a deep pit in the bottom of your stomach, thinking about the rotting corpses and the frenzied deaths of those you loved. The night time cradled your worst moments, to have to close your eyes and to only be left alone with your thoughts would haunt you endlessly.

Shaking your head to yourself, you rid yourself of that dark energy clouding above you. You have dedicated a lot of time and drive to make progress, it’s not something you yearn to be thrown away as if it were nothing.

“ are we going to pick anything else up, or is it just those? “

“ nah, no use gettin’ ourselves killed. “ he responds, focusing on eating breakfast.

You nod your head swiftly, you certainly can’t argue with that logic! Knowing others have lost their lives or have been horribly injured attempting to go the extra mile.

“ well, I won’t be disagreeing with that plan. quick and simple. “

“ sounds like.. “

He lifts his line of sight to stare at you as his sentence trails off into silence, a passing moment crawling along almost uninterrupted before the realisation of what he meant erupted in your mind. He’s talking about you!

“ that’s so rude! “ you say with wide eyes, creasing up and shaking with laughter.

“ I ain’t wrong. “

Even Daryl begins to ease up and chuckle to himself, a small part of him had been cowering in the corner thinking that his words may have been too offensive, even for you. But seeing the sparkle in your eyes as you find amusement is enough to banish it permanently.

The two of you leave the confines of the prison, your arms are locked around his midsection as you are settled behind him on the motorcycle. The speed of it hit a steady pace, the scenery around you nothing more than passing blurs merging into a melting pot of Earth tones.

Slowing to a stop, the two of you get off the bike and make your way into the abandoned store, your eyes scan it in its entirety. Confidence fills you in the thought that it is older than you and definitely had seen better days. Dirt and grime lined the structure from the bottom, sliding up the walls to the top of it. Your brows burrow in repulsion, though surely it can’t be as bad as the prison. Or how it used to be..

“ stay back. “

You watch as he bangs a hand against the grungy window, hardly anything could be seen through the layer of dirt that had made its home there. A visual picture certainly would not be helping either of you this time.

It took around two minutes for a series of slams against the windows to startle you, your heartbeat begins to speed up slightly at the suddenness of the noise. Even when you’re expecting the arrival of walkers, they still manage to catch you off guard. The two of you nod to one another, you move to open the door for four walkers to pile out. Your attention is kept to the two who made a beeline for your body. You step backwards with your knife now in your hand, hoping to create distance between the two of them for you to be able to stab one of them.

One of them grabs your shoulders, immediately your hand goes to shove one of its away from yours. Momentarily it loses grip and trips into you, luckily your hand with the knife is faster than you realise and you feel the resistance its skull and brain give you but you’re stronger and ensure it hits the mark. The change is instantaneous, the walker descends quickly, taking you with it. All your strength and fight is dedicated to pushing the dead weight off of you, your arms make progress as it falls next to you with a thud.

Scrambling to the space next to you to retrieve the knife still sleeping snugly within its head, your breath is ragged from the physical exhaustion and stress of the situation. Your eyes are wide with fear and it takes more strength than you realise to pull it out with a sickly squelch, a darkened liquid coats the once shining blade. Though you have little time to study its form before you feel fingers clawing at your hair, the surprise causes you to drop the knife and your hands to move towards the decaying ones who have secured their grip.

Screams erupt from your lips as your fingers move upwards, pushing what you guess is the walker’s snapping mouth that feels so close. Close enough that you’re unable to distinguish if the breaths you feel close to your neck is from the walker or your imagination. Never before had you felt like a prey animal before, you’re too close to death for your liking, you’d seen people turn from being bitten and to be seconds away fills you with dread. Your fight becomes less and less by the passing second, your body is too tired to fight itself and the walker at the same time, incapacitation is becoming your reality.. warning to confront you one step at a time.

One moment all you can hear are snarls and a warm pain that shoots through the roots of your hair, the next it feels like time has stopped. The grip that was once securely locked is now absent, you don’t know where to look.. all you know is you don’t want to look behind you.

“ y’alright? “

Your sight moves upwards, squinting as you take in the face in front of you. It’s Daryl.

“ uh, I -- “ your voice breaks at the end as you reply, shock overwhelming your body. You drop your head towards the ground in disturbance, refusing to allow your emotions to spiral, you focus on a spot on the ground.

Daryl moves towards you, his gaze checking you over, though begins to search through your hair to make sure the walker has not scratched or punctured your skin with its filthy teeth. Seeing you in that state with the walker so close to dimming your light pushed him, pushed him to fight harder than he has with a few walkers. He knew he could have sent a bolt through its skull, but rage filled his entire being as it drove him. Sending him in its direction and sending a blade through it with his entire force.

“ hey, it didn’t get ya. y’hear me? it didn’t get ya. “ he says, bringing your attention back to him. Though whether it was confirmation more for his benefit or yours, he can’t tell.

“ I never even.. I knew, I.. “

“ y’ain’t got your battle scar yet. “

“ not with you around, luckily. “ you reply with a shake of your head, a soft tone is all you can muster in that minute.

Even in spite of yourself and how you feel, a light chuckle coming from you dusts the air gently as if it never occurred. Shaking your head with a smile that barely registers you push yourself onto your knees and make a move to stand. He’s there to help you up, a tender force clutches your upper arm that you almost fail to associate with him.

The both of you share the same thought unknowingly, that your entire being feels nothing but sensitivity. Shock from enduring the ordeal leaving your body made from nothing more than glass that could shatter at a moment’s notice.

“ hey.. “

A bandana is dangling in front of your vision, confused, you take it into your fingers. Your touch feels the rough material as you run your fingertips across it. Like a light bulb, understanding lights your features up with the power of a thousand suns. Your hair is gathered over to one side, collected to form something of a braid now rests over your shoulder.. with the bandana keeping it together.

“ thank you, Daryl. “ gratitude coats your words, you are extremely thankful for his intervention “ this is mine now though.. “ you inform him, a hand moving to finger the material that now has a new home in your hair.

“ yeah, y’wish. “

“ I meant what I said though, thank you. if you weren't here I’d be one of them. “ a sigh from your mouth releases, a shudder crawling its way through yourself. The shake being easily visible.

“ that ain’t ever gonna happen, I ain’t gonna let it. “

A dull smile pulls at the corners of your lips, a sadness coating your expression at his words. Moving towards him gradually, your arms slide around his midsection. Knowing that those promises can’t always be fulfilled, but that’s Daryl a thought crosses the centre of your mind. He always wants to save everyone. You barely register the light weight of two palms on your back, but a warm light grows in size within you at the realisation.

“ you can let this bandana be mine though.. my good luck charm when you’re not around. “

“ fine. “ Daryl gives in, a hint of laughter in his response as he speaks to you.

#daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fic #the walking dead imagine #twd imagine #the walking dead fic #twd fic

[the-remainder]

Greetings weary travelers, did you know, as a budding magus, Ilar has traveled across the Serpentine Coast and witnessed many bizarre and fantastic tales. On quiet afternoons, Ilar and Vyn would share some of Ilar's special blend of tea, freshly baked pastry, and tell a tale to each other. If you've donated to The Remainder on itch or ko-fi, you'll have access to the mini interactive fiction - Story And Tea with Ilar - where all these short stories can be read.

But we'd also like to reward people who've supported us in other ways by releasing some of these stories.

Here is the first in what we hope to be a series of such stories, as told by Ilar to Vyn.

Enjoy!

If you're not sure what I'm talking about, this is a bonus short story that takes place in the world of The Remainder, a dark fantasy visual novel, you can play Act 1 by clicking here.

Tale of the Fog Children

Part 1 of 3

Voices often came to me when I sat in inner silence and simply felt the Currents brushing against my heart. Most of them were only noise, shallow thoughts from shallow realms, the regret of something done, or bickering over garlic skin. But this one was different, it yearned fiercely, single-heartedly, as only a human being could, and yet it has a hollowness that no human being could have, not the least a child.

Curious, I went to a balcony on the upper tower and peered over the foggy shores to the South. A commotion was brewing in a village a few leagues away, nestled next to a Seamouth, a fogdune had barged into the huddle of houses and swallowed one of them. Peculiar, I thought, and bad news. I looked with closed eyes and saw the sense of longing waft from the fogdune.

A thick channel of Currents was carried by the cloudstream to the tower, teasing out memories of my home, of the smell of mud and chicken feed. There was something else in the undercurrents too defused to disentangle at this distance. It was no ordinary fogdune, the magus mentee of that village was out of their depth. I checked my schedule and saw that you would be in a ritual for another three days. I packed a few necessities and headed for the village.

Arriving, I found that everyone who dwelled there gave the fog-engulfed house a wide berth, and little wonder, the Currents gushing from it was debilitating. I felt the longing tinged with sorrow and desperation before I heard the faint sound of howling wind emanating from the fog despite the still air. The energy was so dense that it would’ve turned an undyed - a commoner with no magick training - into a sobbing heap within minutes of close contact. A little more and they'd do anything, anything to end that despair.

“Stay away, traveler!” Someone shouted to me from their yard. “Bad luck that, do ya no good to linger, ya hear?”

Striding toward them, I replied. “Where are the people who lived here?”

“Oy, the Milborns, sunken luck if it could be said o’ anyone. They’d be stayin’ over with the Ashborns there.” The leather-skinned man pointed with his mushroom hat.

“Bad luck, you say? What sort, if I may ask?”

The man stopped chewing his straw for a moment and studied me up and down, clicking his tongue.

“My, pardon me, you’re a magus, ain’t you?”

I nodded, saying. “Indeed, I sensed something afoot here and thought I might help. Now, tell me about this bad luck you mentioned.”

“Aye, real pitiable. First, one child, nary a babe, passes from the winds, then a scant few years later, the other one goes missin'.” He spits out the straw he was chewing and made a face as if it was bitter. “Born on a Howling Eve, they were, and there ain’t no helpin’ that.”

I listened, puffing on my pipe, recalling. “Howling Eve? Do you think the children were…”

“Aye, ‘twas the low ones, Luccasi, the temple mentee said as much. Howling over the skies all that night, lookin’ for souls to snatch. And the children? Twins, ya see? Was s’pposed to be just the one. But he was so scared of the sound that half of him tried to run back to the Waters from inside his mama’s womb, and done got split right in two.

That’s how they were born twins. Sickly, only enough Waters for the one life, forced to be two. Skin the color of mildew. Poor kids, the folks too, what’d they e’er do to deserve such a thing?” He shook his head.

I nodded again, thanked the man, and left for the Ashborn’s house. I’d heard enough to have a theory, and if I was right, there was no time to waste.

Thick incense filled the little room when a young man with hollow eyes and a scraggly goatee opened the door to my knocking.

“Who are you?” He asked stiffly.

“The name’s Ilar, Magus. Are you the Milborns?” I nodded to the young woman sitting next to a makeshift altar that she’d just been praying to, where incenses burned. I recognized the herb. “May I?”

He stepped back to allow me in. “Duma, and my wife Sestra. We don’t got much, you’ll have tea?”

I nodded and entered, sitting by the firepit. A cursory glance showed no Devarna present. I knew then… But they’d just lost another child. I needed to be direct, yet without touching upon an open wound. “Sorry to hear about your child, I’d like to help. When did he go missing?”

“A week ago. He was playing with the other kids along the shore over yonder.” Duma’s voice was hoarse. “One blink he was there, right? Then he was gone, just like that. We looked, depths, we looked everywhere, right?”

“I see. And how long have you been burning the Longing Leaves?”

The young man’s forehead wrinkled into a mass of grooves as he looked down.

He glanced at my magus’s mark nervously and said. “The mentee said we should use it, right? They said no more than three days, if that’s what yer getting at, but there couldn’t be no harm, right?” Sestra began to fidget visibly as he spoke.

With a soft but firm voice, I said. “Devarna of Longing are usually very effective, but after three days, they will have grown disenchanted with the herbs. Further use will net you no boon. If you don’t stop now, you risk attracting something else, something undesirable. Do you understand?”

Duma stiffened, hands gripping at his loose leggings, lips pursed. Sensing this, Sestra leaned over and gently laid a hand on his arm while looking at me with something akin to pleading in her eyes. She wanted to say something, I realized, but—

“What are we to do? Just give up? Our only child, that boy! The mentee said these would call him back, well where is he?” Duma was nearly shouting at me. His wife flinched. Truths were left unsaid, and a lie was told. Tides were unfavorable here, I decided.

I stood up slowly, went to the door, and said. “I’m not your enemy, and neither is that fogdune. It’s getting too dark to Work, I’ll make camp outside the village. By next dawn, I will have a plan.

I hope you’ll consider listening to me when the time comes if you want what’s best for your child.” I threw a glance at them, letting the Waters shine from my eyes, holding the woman’s gaze for the briefest of moments, then departed. That should be enough to let them sense my power, and hopefully for Sestra to take the hint.

I built a fire and erected a simple tent with twigs and mushroom cappings in a copse on the edge of the village and waited. I’d seen fogdunes behaving like this in my youth. Could it be the same thing that happened to me? Another of Fate’s jokes, I chuckled.

To be continued...

If you enjoyed this and want to read the rest without having to wait, please support us on itch.io or ko-fi.

#the remainder #story and tea #fog children part 1 #short fiction #short story

[cosmicjoke]

Alright, onto chapter 5 of “No Regrets” and then I’ll do the last three chapters tomorrow.

 The first thing I took note of was how after everyone gets to the castle ruins, Levi reminds Furlan and Isabel that they’re still outside the walls, and that anything could happen, so they should “stay sharp.”.  Once again we see Levi being concerned with the safety of his friends, remind them not to put their guards down.  This leads into the next scene, where Furlan remarks that he never thought they’d be able to stop a titan so easily, and reaffirms his faith in Levi’s strength by saying as long as Levi’s with them, they’ll survive somehow.  Levi responds to this with some self-doubt, which is really interesting and will tie into some other observations I’ve made about this chapter, later on.  He says if there’s more than one of those abnormal titans, he’s not so sure they’ll be alright.  Clearly, he’s concerned for the wellbeing of his friends while they’re on the outside like this.  He doesn’t feel totally confident.

He then asks Furlan if he’s sure Erwin’s brought the documents with him outside the Walls, which tells us that they’ve obviously had previous discussions about this, that it was a group decision between them, of the necessity of leaving the walls in order to get close enough to Erwin to get the papers.  Furlan says he made sure, talking about how he searched Erwin’s office top to bottom, observing that he found a bunch of unrelated documents, and in particular, a locked drawer which he found suspicious.  Now what I find interesting here is Furlan’s internal thoughts, because I think he realized Erwin’s intentions already, but he dismissed his suspicions based on them seeming unlikely to him.  But in his memory, he thinks, when he sees the locked drawer, that it’s almost like it was made to be searched, and upon opening it, he finds plenty of secret looking documents, but not the ones they need. He then wonders if Erwin is trying to tell him that they’re not there.  What’s so interesting about this is just how deep is shows Erwin’s manipulation of this situation actually goes, and how many steps ahead he actually is. We saw in chapter 3 how Erwin was standing at his office window, observing Furlan, which tells us that he was always aware that Furlan was going to try and find the documents, which in turn lead to Erwin arranging his office to nudge Furlan in the right direction, of thinking the documents aren’t anywhere at HQ.  Furlan picks up on this possibility, that Erwin is in fact manipulating them, wondering to himself if Erwin WANTS him to think he has the papers on him, giving him the “run around”, but he dismisses the thought out of hand a moment later.  What this tells me is just how in control Erwin is here, and it made me think that it’s possible Erwin influenced Furlan’s thinking in this direction, to assuming Erwin had the papers with him, as a means of keeping him, Levi and Isabel there in the military longer, delaying their escape, so that he could intentionally force them outside the walls on an expedition, so he could see what they were actually capable of.  At the end of chapter 4, after seeing Levi take down that abnormal titan, he observes to himself, “So your wings are the real thing, after all, Levi.”.  This is just speculation on my part, but given what a masterful manipulator Erwin really is, I wouldn’t be surprised if this was his plan the whole time, knowing Levi and his friends wouldn’t and couldn’t leave until they had the documents.

Alright, next observation. It’s kind of funny how, after laying out his plan to search Erwin’s bags with Isabel, and asking Levi to guard the passageway Erwin went down with Shadis, and to stop him if he started to come back before they were finished, Levi’s first assumption is that he should start a fight with Erwin, lol.

More interesting is when Furlan says to Levi “Don’t kill him, even by accident.  After all, if we lose an officer outside the walls, we’ll be in trouble, too.”.  Because it tells us that they weren’t ever planning on killing Erwin outside of the walls when they went out on expedition.  The goal was to try and find the documents, and hoping going beyond the walls would yield an opportunity to do so.  This is another, vital change from the visual novel.  In that, Levi is still obsessing over killing Erwin, over any consideration for the original plan, ranting even that he’s going to make Erwin get down on his knees and beg for his life before killing him, and that just struck me as wildly out of character for him.  They wisely took out that entire piece of dialog here, and instead we lead into a scene of Levi guarding the passageway, and remembering the whole reason for why he agreed to come to the surface in the first place. We go into a flashback of Lovof’s messenger making contact with Levi and the others, propositioning them with Lovof’s commission.  What’s really important in this scene is Levi’s initial reaction to the proposal. He’s immediately skeptical and disbelieving, and doesn’t want anything to do with it.  He tells the messenger so, and tells him “Go back up there and I’ll pretend I didn’t hear anything.”.  Levi shows great instincts here, sensing the danger present for him and his friends, and outright rejects any association.  It’s Furlan, then, who steps in and shows interest in the deal, calling the messenger back.  Levi’s clearly confused, but yields to Furlan’s look, and Furlan proceeds to tell the messenger that they’ll have to think about it, but that they’re interested. Levi’s clearly not happy about this, and once the messenger leaves, he begins to protest, but Furlan cuts him off and starts to lay out his plan to tail the messenger to find out who his employer is.  Isabel expresses disbelief that Furlan actually means to go through with this plan, and Furlan again brings up the dream of making it out of the Underground, talking about how rare a chance it is, to actually live in the Capital, obviously trying to entice both Levi and Isabel with the notion.  Levi points out that even if they get the documents, it’ll just lead to them being Lovof’s next targets, and Furlan responds with his plan to blackmail Lovof instead.  Levi’s still dubious on this idea, asking Furlan if he really thinks “those pigs will care about a threat from the Underground?”, and Furlan responds that it’s worth a shot.  He then implores Levi and Isabel again, saying “Come on, you two, don’t you want to make it up there?”, and we cut back to Levi in the present, contemplating Furlan’s words.  Again, we see Levi thinking long and hard on Furlan’s dreams here, over any thoughts he has of Erwin or revenge.  He’s prioritizing Furlan’s wishes over his own still, thoughts occupied by what his friend wants.

Now, this leads into a really interesting and meaningful encounter with Erwin.

Well, the first thing I notice in the exchange is when Erwin calls Levi’s friends his “subordinates”, and Levi responds with “They’re not my subordinates…”.  This tells us so much about how he views himself in relation to Furlan and Isabel.  He doesn’t see himself as their leader.  He doesn’t want to control them.  He just sees himself as their friend, and protector.

Now the conversation between Levi and Erwin gets really interesting when Erwin starts talking about having seen Levi take down the abnormal titan from earlier, and he observes that with a natural like Levi around, the others must feel safer.  Levi looks at Erwin with wide eyes, before responding to him that the reason he was able to figure out how to fight that titan before was because he watched how it moved as it ate another soldier.  I think Levi’s feelings of guilt here are pretty obvious.  He feels bad for having watched another soldier die, and using his observations while watching to figure out how to kill the titan.  It’s like he’s arguing with Erwin here, telling him the others shouldn’t feel safer with him around, that they shouldn’t rely on him.  Levi is showing doubt in himself here, again, just like earlier when he pushed back again Furlan’s claims that as long as he’s with them, they’ll be safe.  Interestingly, it’s Erwin who essentially tells Levi here that he shouldn’t feel guilty, that the SC is built on those types of sacrifices, and that as long as they’re fighting to take back the world for humanity, none of the soldiers there would feel regret for dedicating themselves to such a cause.   I think this is actually the start of the turning point in how Levi views Erwin.  He looks at him here with an almost astonished expression, like he’s seeing Erwin in a sudden, new light.  Like he’s starting to doubt his own, initial impressions of him, and wonder if maybe he wasn’t totally right.  But before he can think on it further, Isabel shows up and calls him away.

Levi then learns that Furlan and Isabel weren’t able to find the documents, essentially confirming that if they’re anywhere, they have to be on Erwin’s person, which leads to the inevitability of having to kill him if they want to get their hands on the papers. Levi’s find with this, because it’s what he wants to do anyway, even as Furlan shows continued apprehension.

And then we get the scene with Hange.

It’s pretty funny that Levi was about to gut Hange, for real, when he thought she had overheard their conversation.  It tells us how far he’s willing to go though to protect his friends.

Still, this whole scene is actually pretty moving, in its way.  Because Hange is really the first person to express genuine gratitude towards Levi and his friends, and treat them as genuine equals, to which we see Isabel in particular respond after seemingly being unimpressed.   Even Levi seems stunned, muttering out “thanks”, like he doesn’t know what else to say as Hange heaps praise on them.  It’s also funny how Furlan has to remind Levi to “be nice.”.  Poor Levi just doesn’t know how to socialize.

But the important part of this scene is when Hange points out how everyone there is wanting to know how Levi was able to take down a titan so easily, drawing their attention, and Levi’s in particular, to the other soldiers watching them.  Hange affirms what Erwin had said to Levi earlier, about how his presence there made the others feel safer, when she says “You’ve given them hope that humans don’t have to lose to the titans if we fight correctly.”. And we see here, I think, the first seeds being planted in Levi’s mind that he might be able to do more, that he might be able to actually help these people.  He’s been told as much twice in quick succession.  I think this is where Levi starts to get the idea for the first time that he might have found somewhere where he belongs.  We’ll get more into this next chapter, when I talk about his conversation with Isabel.  But for now, after Hange asks him again if he has any advice, he tells them he just has his own way of doing things, and he can’t teach it to anybody.  When she tries to insist, he blows her off and looks away.  

Furlan asks Levi, after Hange leaves, what the big deal is in just showing them some simple trick, and Levi says he doesn’t want to be responsible for the loves of anyone other than you two.  This is really important, because it again tells us a lot about Levi’s psychology here. He doesn’t want to teach these people how to fight because he doesn’t want to be responsible for them getting hurt or killed.  Just as he expressed discomfort earlier with what Erwin said, and his own sense of guilt over how he figured out how to fight the titan, Levi really seems to me like he’s afraid here of failing to protect others, and actually harbors deep doubts about his own ability to do so.  So even as we know people tend to flock around Levi and follow him in the belief he can protect them, Levi himself is afraid that he isn’t strong enough to help them the way they want him to.  It’s indicative of someone who’s experienced deep loss in their life, which we know Levi has at this point.  Someone who’s afraid of making attachments because he doesn’t want to have to experience the pain of that loss ever again.  And it shows a painful insecurity in Levi.  He wants to help people, but he doesn’t want to end up failing them, or doing something which could lead to them getting hurt or killed.  He doesn’t want to be responsible for their lives, because he’s afraid he can’t be.  

Furlan tells him not to be so dramatic, and Levi doesn’t say anything in return, but we see a resigned, saddened look on his face, like he knows Furlan wouldn’t understand if he tried to explain how he feels.

Then we get Isabel’s comment about not understanding trying to take back the world for humanity, but her starting to realize the Scouts genuinely believe in what they’re doing. We see Levi’s silence again in response, but this one is more contemplative.  He himself is starting to realize the same as Isabel.  That these people really believe in what they’re saying.  And again we go back to the first seeds of a sense of belonging starting to develop in Levi, even before his big moment with Erwin at the end.  He’s starting to sense that maybe he’s found a place where he belongs, where he can actually use his abilities in a way that could make an actual difference in the world. It’s subconscious at this point, but Levi is starting to get that sense I think.

Anyway, I’ll be making observations about the last three chapters tomorrow.  Thanks again for reading guys!

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #No Regrets #Levi Ackerman #Furlan Church #isabel magnolia #Erwin Smith #snk analysis

[trashcatsnark]

WHY THE FUCK WERE UP SO LATE??? FUCKING UR SO LUCKY I CANT BEAT UR ASS OTHERWISE ITD BE KNUCKLE CITY

anyway, speaking about johnny boy i was thinking about him + nibbles and our like collective desicion that he is essiently a cat and it is really weirdly fitting that it just makes me like ???? so like cats themselves are a reoccuring motif within the game from the start, when u go to viks, when ur chatting up takemura and at the end with the rooftop that also doubles as like the millionith matrix reference. they follow v and they take up the role of the bakeneko, which i think in the game is defined by them appearing near death ? or just disaster. the obvious thing is that it is to do with v's inpending death and their whole sitation but like the general point is like the cat symbolises the death that follows v as the cat follows them. this puts johnny in an interesting sitation from his catlike nature to how he seems to like and get along with nibbles, he is linked with cats. he is also the parasite that is killing v. he is V's bakeneko. their signal of death. the events start because of his relic, jackie dies for him, and soon does most of the cast from act 1, and a large part of the death from then on is a direct result of them trying to solve the relic and johnny's whole presence is a signal for hey v ur fucking dying. he is death for them. the bakeneko.

makes me wonder if his catlike attributes were intentionally done cause that boy aint right or we just accidently walked on a really thematic fitting landmind

Spoilers within, again, also leave my sleeping schedule alone, I do not function. Additionally, I have a lot to say about Nibbles, omens, cats, and pets then how they all relate back to Johnny so congrats on opening a flood gate my friend!

 think the thematic thing with Johnny and cats and the bakeneko has to 1000000 percent be intentional, because he even sees a cat when Alt is kidnapped. And that goes back to Cyberpunk Red. Like that was used and utilized and then became such a large part of the story. 

Johnny is clearly meant to be a bakeneko; he’s actively next to the cat in that conversation, leaves when it does, see the same cat before Alt’s death, and is again the visual representation of what is happening to V. He is the symbol of their death, whether he wants to be or not. 

I think it’s also interesting to note, the Bakeneko, which is described as an omen of death and misfortune isn’t the only way we see cats used thematically within the game. Albeit, this way is more subtle and perhaps intentionally so. We also see the maneki-neko; the lucky cat statues are everywhere in game. In V’s apartment, Misty’s shop, Vik’s clinic. Everyyyyyywhereeeeee. 

So, we see two mythological cats from Japanese culture. One brings misfortune and one brings good luck. And Johnny exemplifies both. 

Johnny is a visual representation of all that is destroying V. His mere existence and presence a constant reminder that their death is around the corner. An ever present omen that V’s clock is ticking. He also often pops up to have a comment just before massive relic malfunctions and disasters. The end of every main game quest is punctuated with a relic malfunction and a lecture from Johnny. 

But without the chip and by extension Johnny, V would already be dead. If the chip hadn’t been the exact right place to be damaged and activated by the gunshot; it would have killed V right then and there. And while this wasn’t an active choice on Johnny’s part, he is the visual representation of the chip. Even then, he later does make an active choice to save V’s life. When V is hit with the worst malfunction yet; Johnny grabs them, “you aren’t dying yet, I got you” and he takes them to safety. He refuses to watch V seize and die in a puddle of their own sick in the middle of nowhere (for me it’s always at the sunset hotel, idk if this changes based on the order you do the events tho) So, he takes control, he eases their pain and takes them somewhere safe, somewhere that means something to him, and swears to die for them. 

Luck both good and bad. Fortune and misfortune. A sign of better days and an omen of death. A maneki-neko and a bakeneko. The time bomb in V’s head and the guy who saved their life. He is both. 

Now, stepping away from the mythological aspects. Lets talk about Nibbles the cat, Johnny, and pets within Cyberpunk 2077. Animals and by extension pets are considered a luxury in Night City. They’re taxed to fuck and back, generally only the wealthy can have them. Its also often brought up that real friends and family who stick by you are very difficult to come by. V becomes through Nibbles one of the rare people to have a pet. One of the other people who had a pet is, Barry their neighbor. 

Barry and his mission is one of the first you can unlock and see in the game. He’s V’s downstairs neighbor and his story is played out so fucking similarly to V’s. Barry lost his best friend, he’s quit his job because he can’t handle the weight of the NCPD’s corruption, and he’s thinking of taking his own life.  V has lost Jackie, its stated in game they get less work than usual because of Konpeki (cant be put on a crew), and very early on can say to Misty “be better off putting in my head”. 

But for Barry that friend ends up being a pet tortoise. And its clear what that tortoise represents; a constant companion, a safe place, and a comfort. Something Barry couldn’t find among his peers until later on when they learn just how much he’s been hurting. And this is treated as such a tragedy, that he only has a pet to turn to. 

And so V gets a cat, because they too are fucking hurting and having a little meowing bundle of skin running around their apartment helps. Something to come home to, something to make that apartment a little less empty, a little more alive. 

So, how does this particular aspect of Nibbles/cats/pets relate to Johnny, I hear you wondering (as well as wondering when Im going to shut up). Well, we know Johnny is linked symbolically with cats and thats the choice of pet for V. And we knows pets have been likened to support without judgement; a companion who you can tell everything too and they won’t abandon you. 

And while Johnny has heaps of judgment and is a dick. He is V’s only constant companion. I know a good junk of people don’t like him or his commentary; but imagine V’s life without Johnny in it through the game events. Imagine how lonely they’d be. 

Johnny is the only one who knows everything and is there with V from the start to the final moments in Mikoshi. 

Vik and Misty know, but they’re no edgerunners, they have no idea everything V is doing out there. Part of why as much as I do love Vik, his frustration with V hurts so much in the end because he talks like V hasn’t done anything to save themselves. Because, Vik doesn’t know what V’s been doing this whole time. 

Each part of the main quests in Act 2 are linked to an NPC; Judy, Panam, and Takemura. And not one of them know or are there throughout the entirety of V’s journey. Judy doesn’t get told the full details of what’s happening until later in and stops helping V one Evelyn is saved. Panam doesn’t learn the full details or anything really about the chip until much later. And her quests become her own personal journey once V finds Hellman. And then depending on V’s choices, Panam can come in to help at the end. Takemura knows V is dying and is there to help with the parade and then he’s gone; either dead or in hiding. He refers to anything that doesn’t involve him as V’s shady dealings and leaves it at that. He’s there to interrogate Hellman but he doesn’t know all V did to find him. None of them know everything, none of them have been there the whole time. And that’s not a condemnation of them, I do not expect them to drop everything to be glued to V’s side 24/7 but, I can’t fucking imagine how alone V feels. 

River has no involvement in any main quests and only finds out anything if V chooses to romance him. Kerry knows what Johnny told him and depending on the ending may even leave V. Again, wanna be clear, that isn’t a condemnation on his character. I understand why he does this and i understand his hurt and how it led him to that. 

But this is about how truly fucking alone V is in all of this. Not a single person there start to finish, not a single person knowing all that they have suffered, all that they have been through and are going through. 

Except Johnny. He tells V in the oil fields, closest to him by far, there 24/7, yet they don’t seem to hate him. And he’s that for V too; there the entire way, their demon never leaving.  Johnny knows everything happening; because he’s part of what’s happening. He’s been there through every struggle, every step, every slap in the face as V’s tried to save themselves. Has felt their pain as they lose themselves, has known the people who’ve had to die for them to get this far, as felt their heart break when all they found was betrayal by the Voodoo Boys, Ai Alt asking how V’s life is her problem, getting recommended a hospice by Hellman. 

And as dickish as he is, his comments help. V always has someone there, as much as he sucks. He always has something stupid or naggy to say to help keep some of that weight off their shoulders. Imagine if they didn’t even have that. If Johnny never talked to them, never showed his face. 

A constant companion, like a supportive pet cat except he can talk and did a lot of meth. 

And this is a sidenote that has nothing to do with cats specifically, but that through Samurai music this isn’t the first time Johnny could be compared to an omen. Its no secret that the music was largely created around the game and as such, many of his songs have direct parallels and messages related to the game. Never Fade Away while in universe written in regards to Alt’s death also has so much in common with his journey with V. This brings me to the song Black Dog.

“Black Dog inside my head, guiding me until the end.”

Black Dogs are figures in Irish Mythology  who much like bakeneko’s are talked about in game; are omens of death and misfortune. I just find it interesting I suppose, like Johnny is either a dirty alley cat or a big mangy dog, but either way he’s here cause someones about to die.

Okay this is well over a thousand words, Imma shut up now. This is probably a mess, but anyone here for coherency is in the wrong place. 

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cyberpunk 2077 spoilers #johnny silverhand #silverv #tender-wounds

[charlottemadison42]

Reincorporated

‘Choose your faces wisely’ makes it all sound so simple. Excerpt:

Crowley staggered into the door with a hollow boom.

"Owowowow! Shitshitssssshit."

Covering his eyes with one hand he fumbled blindly for the wall with the other.

Aziraphale reached to steady him but misjudged distance and inertia badly. He lurched and windmilled, and as one leg buckled under the other he spiraled inelegantly to the floor. "Oh. My. Well."

"Oh, we are so not prepared for this," seethed Crowley in a low growl.

"Are you hurt dear boy?"

"No angel, eyes. Blessed eyes! ...Djyou go thump, I can't see."

"Ah. Yes. Mm. Legs."

"'S wrong with my legs?!"

"Nothing, there's just rather a lot of them and they're. Mm. Miscalibrated."

"I can't smell anything," rasped Crowley. "Where the heaven are you? Oh, you're everywhere. I gotta smell for me." The demon stuck his tongue out, remembered its uselessness, and gave an absurdly exaggerated sniff. "Can I even smell me?"

"I'm here Crowley. Just give me a mo. There we -- oomp -- no, wait. Perhaps -- mm." Aziraphale was having little success corralling his gangly limbs. Roping one made another gallop off.

"You're getting way too much visual input, angel. How do you even move?"

"How do I move? How many joints could a body possibly need?" The angel kept getting his feet straight, then launching off his heels too forcefully and teetering over again. "There's no resistance, I'm overshooting everything. I'll hit myself in the face if I raise a finger."

"Yours has too much resistance. 'S like -- hitting the accelerator on a London Bus when I'm used to the Bentley."

Crowley was moving through syrup and could only manipulate one body part at a time. Lift foot, shift shoulders, lower foot, hand along wall, bend elbow, twist torso -- all the joints were independent and refused to harmonize. His spine and hips felt fused into one uncomfortable piece. He groaned. "I'd hoped we might have some sort of muscle memory assist or something, but farewell that."

Frustrated by fruitless attempts to stand, Aziraphale settled in a heap on the floor and had a go at proprioception. He felt his ashy red hair, pawed his face and ears awkwardly. The muscles and tendons were all too eager to obey him and every small movement was overpowered.

He tried raising his sunglasses but only found the arm on his third try; once they were up, his pupils contracted and he hissed involuntarily. "Good graciousss, that's bright. I'll be curious to try your night vision."

"You'll notice you're missing a lot of colors. Must look dull."

"Really, I can hardly tell in this grey monstrosity. It's drab as Leningrad suburbs in the seventies, how would I notice missing colors?" Aziraphale studied his sooty hand, read the lines of his palm. "The focus is odd -- shallow depth of field or somesuch, sharp and fuzzy in turns." He dropped the glasses back into place and sighed with relief.

"You'll find reading's a fucking chore to boot."

"You read your phone all the time."

"Well 's backlit, innit."

Aziraphale had got a knee crossed over an elbow somehow and hoped he could get it undone before the demon saw him. "Any ambulation advice would be welcome, I'm quite at ends," he grunted.

Crowley was pulling faces, not listening. "Hmm. New teeth. That's weird."

"Really, dear boy, a little help?"

"I don't see what's so bad about the floor. On your belly in the dust 'n all that, you remember." Despite the mocking tone he stepped closer and extended a hand, trying to sniff his way. He could never not help Aziraphale. He cracked one eye open, fighting through tremendous pain and nausea to cope with the information overload.

“I confess I don't know how to begin, it's like wrestling an octopus," said Aziraphale.

"I saw them do that once in the States, y'know. Sixties were weird. States're weird." Crowley leaned in to inspect the mess of limbs, still squinting fiercely. "You sure you're not wearing the whole blessed body backwards? 'S almost what it looks like. Give the head a couple spins, why don't you."

“I'm not sure how I walk in my own corporation; I'll never manage yours."

"Aaah, never say never. You learned the gavotte and saved the world." Crowley began circling, tracing his familiar prowl in the wrong body, around the wrong body. "Takes humans five years to learn how to eat breakfast. If we don't take to this in five minutes we shouldn't be surprised. Damned cocky to think we could pull it off so easily. Hubris, really."

The angel cocked his head. "It's so strange to watch you steer me."

Crowley made eye contact, only he couldn't because of the glasses, could he, and that made him scowl. He hadn't been on the outside of them before. Aziraphale clocked exactly what had happened and stifled a giggle.

"All right, advice. It seems -- hmm." Crowley kept his voice low and gentle. "I think it doesn't respond well to...control. Nor force. It's rebellious, right? You have to master Mister Newton's laws, make them work for you -- pull and don't push. Think swinging pendulums and counterweights rather than pistons. Jujitsu instead of karate. Y'know?" The angel stared blankly, uncomprehending. "What do you do that's balanced instead of -- I don't know, an effort? Ever do yoga or surf or skateboard or anything?"

Now the angel looked truly panicked, biting not-his-lip.

Crowley winced. They were so very, very fucked.

Abridged, slightly rehashed excerpt from ‘Sauntering Vaguely Upward.’ Read the rest at https://archiveofourown.org/works/21985987

#good omens #body swap #aziraphale #crowley

[purplesurveys]

1304

Have you ever been to a Chinatown in any of the cities you’ve been to? No. Not interested; and besides, the one that we have is in Manila and I fuuuuuuucking hate going there.

How old was the oldest person you’ve dated? I’ve only dated one person and we were the same age.

Do you know anyone who has their own podcast? Yes! Quite a number actually – Andi had a whole season; a classmate from one of my history classes who eventually turned into somewhat of a friend just started her own; my aunt Claire also dabbles in podcasts sometimes.

Who is the first person under C in your phone’s contacts? How old are they? Hahaha Mike, the guy I nearly dated five years ago. I believe he’s the same age as me, so 23. If he isn’t, my next best guess is that he’s a year older.

Have you ever been to couple’s counseling? No.

How often does your employer ask you to work overtime? A few times a week, which is fine because I get paid for every hour and because I never really have to overtime alone (my manager tags along with me haha). It also helps that I love my job and don’t have a problem with having to work a little extra for it.

What did you have for dinner last night? Oh I got McDonald’s takeout haha. Quarter Pounder and Shake Shake Fries. I also ordered Twister Fries but I decided to just give it to my sister.

How many children do you want, and how did you decide on this number? Two or three have always sounded like a decent amount to me.

Where did your last kiss take place? Just outside of my house.

Did you often read for fun when you were a kid? Yeahhhh I was a huge bookworm. I often had to smuggle books in school since we weren’t allowed to bring books not related to our subjects, aka books we read for leisure...which I’m now realizing is really fucked up because it seemed as though they were discouraging us from reading :/ Anyway, my love for reading faded sometime in like high school and I haven’t read a lot since, which is unfortunate.

^ What were some of your favorite books? I was really into the Septimus Heap series. I also liked reading Goosebumps.

When and why did you last feel lonely? Ooh, good question. I don’t actually know; I think it’s been a while. I’m glad to have healthy circles both in my personal and work life, and I don’t really feel lonely whenever I’m out and see couples either. I’m at a really good place in life right now, essentially.

Are you more of a visual learner or an auditory learner? Auditory. I appreciate it more when things are explained to me in detail and I tend to struggle with catching up or retaining information whenever my only option is to watch.

Do you have any dietary restrictions? Eh, not really. I’m slightly lactose intolerant but that has never stopped me from enjoying my dairy heheh.

Do you prefer Google Maps, Apple Maps, Waze, or something else? I only use Waze.

What is your favorite coffee brand? Doughnut brands tend to have really good coffee, like Dunkin’ or Krispy Kreme. But I usually frequent Starbucks just because it’s the most ubiquitous one, and they have good pastries too.

What is your favorite tea brand? I don’t drink tea.

Have you ever worn false eyelashes? Yeah but just once. That one evening is a bad memory though, so I don’t like wearing faux lashes because of it.

How old does someone have to be for you to see them as an adult? I don’t think is something you can determine by age. People go through all kinds of shit in life and some mature far more quickly than others. In the same way, I know lots of 40 or 50 something year olds who still act like kids, so.

Do you ever ‘manspread’ when you sit down? Hmm sometimes. The position I do most often is crossing my legs in a way that my ankle is resting on my other knee, which also takes up some space.

Which of your good habits has made the biggest positive difference in your life? Welp I stopped impulsively buying merch, for one.

Have you ever dated someone who was very lazy? No. I wouldn’t even start to go for someone if I knew they were lazy.

Have you ever turned down a job offer? Nah. I received an opportunity to be in talks with another PR agency a few months ago, but when I scanned their clientele it didn’t really seem all that impressive to me compared to the accounts I actually handle now, so it was a very easy decision for me to like...not do anything with that opportunity haha. What was the last medical appointment you scheduled? I haven’t had any appointments other than last weekend when I had to take an antigen test before our trip.

What are some of your favorite alcoholic drinks? Flavored soju, cocktails, and tequila.

Have you ever taught an elderly relative how to use a computer/smartphone? No. Sometimes I’ll teach my mom how to work stuff around on like Google or Netflix, but I haven’t had to teach anyone really from scratch.

Where did you get the shirt you’re wearing? A small business.

How many people can be seated at your kitchen table? We don’t have a kitchen table but the one in our dining area can seat six.

#survey #surveys

[imaginedevildom]

Mammon A-Z NSFW Headcannons

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Mammon is a soft boy who prefers gentler sex, so aftercare isn’t something super common. Aftercare mostly consists of cuddles and after doing the doing Mammon is a bit more willing to let down his tsundere exterior.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s)

Mammon really likes his torso, while not quite the narcist that Asmo is, he takes pride in his body. His really likes when you trail your hands over his chest and if you leave hickeys from his collar bones down to his hips he’ll melt. On the flipside he really likes your neck since its prime hickey real estate.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

As the Avatar of Greed, Mammon is inherently possessive. He enjoys marking you with his cum, chest, face, ass; doesn’t matter as long as he gets to see his cum marking you, it doesn’t matter.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s the biggest closet masochist. There’s a part of him that desperately wants to be tied up and fucked until he can’t see straight.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Mammon fucks a lot but like most of his other brothers, he doesn’t have a lot of experience fucking someone he has deep romantic feelings for.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Mammon loves when you ride him, it’s a great way to let you have control while he can hold your hips and help set the pace. He also likes laying back and just looking up at your face while you fuck yourself on his dick.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He’s goofy but not on purpose. The first few times you fuck he still tries to desperately cling to that whole tsundere thing he’s got going on; which can be a lot of fun if you’re into making him tell you everything he wants to do to you.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He trims his hair neatly but still keeps a bit of a bush. I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Romance does not come naturally to Mammon, but sex is still very intimate. He won’t come in and light candles or leave out rose petals, but he will hold you close, and he just really enjoys the closeness that sex brings to the two of you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Mammon masturbates a lot before the two of get together, mostly to try and avoid popping a boner while the two of you are hanging out and prevent embarrassment  

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Praise kink- Tell this boy how good he’s doing and he goes wild; doesn’t matter if he’s domming or subbing he just wants to hear you tell him how much you enjoy whatever it he’s doing to you.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Likes fucking in his bed just because your scent lingers on his sheets and pillows afterwards.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Really gets going if he sees you all dressed, especially if you’re wearing something he bought you he has definitely bought you a collar at some point and wearing that is a sure fire way to get him going.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’s really really against anything that could cause you harm, hickeys and small bruises are fine, but he won’t do anything more than that.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

When Mammon gives oral its always super messy, not bad, but theres very little rhyme or reason behind his actions. Prefers getting head but if he knows you really like it will gladly do, especially if you’re willing to heap lots of praise on him as he does it.

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He likes to take it nice and slow. Sometimes, he gets a little overzealous and his greedy nature demands that he take as much as you’re willing to give as quickly as he can.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Quickies are not a regular part of Mammon’s sex life. He’s also not opposed to them especially if you start something with him in public.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s eager enough to please so he’s willing to take risks if it’s to try something you really want to do.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Demons have to have more stamina than humans and Mammon takes whole advantage of it. He’s pretty quick to recover after a round.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Most of the time he’s too embarrassed to suggest new toys but he does like anything that can be used for edging.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

When he’s feeling particularly dominant, he likes to tease until you’re begging for him, he likes to feel wanted and hearing you beg for him does wonders for the great Mammon’s ego.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’s very loud. He talks a lot during sex and when he’s about to cum its not abnormal to hear him growl.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He loves seeing you in his clothes or anything he’s bought you. Will also completely lose it if you’re wearing to wear a collar for him.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

A solid 7.5 inches with a decent amount of girth.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He has a moderate sex drive. Ready to go at most points but sometimes his other priorities take up more of his attention

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

           He’s pretty wired after sex so sleep doesn’t come super easy to him after a good romp. However, he loves to cuddle up next to you and even if he can’t sleep, he’ll just lay there with you until you’re ready to get up.

#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me! lets date #obey me! #sinbin

[rosecorcoranwrites]

Klaus, El Dorado, and The Liar Revealed

Mediocrity vs. Cliches

Around this time last year, when we were young, innocent, and oblivious of the horrors of 2020, people in internet circles were loosing their minds over a movie called Klaus. You have probably never heard of it, but if you had, it would have been by stumbling across it on Netflix or from hearing a YouTube reviewer singing it's praises.

The main reason people loved it was that it was traditionally animated. In fact, it's director, Sergio Pablos, worked on several Disney Renaissance films, and it shows. The animation is gorgeous. The character designs are stylized and unique. What I found the most pleasing was the color palette, which I would describe as pastel watercolor. The film is set in the Far North, and the dour scenes feel cold and depressing while the heartfelt scenes look warm and cozy. The film was a visual delight.

The story? Eh, it was ok.

The reviewers I watched tended to focus on the beautiful return-to-form animation that we rarely see in the days of 3-D animated films while not noticing, or ignoring, that the story was kind of blah. It was a typical "rich-kid-layabout will get cutoff if he doesn't prove himself", with a heaping helping of "The Liar Revealed", which is one of the most annoying tropes in the history of narrative, but we'll get to that later. There's also a subplot that's basically the Hatfields and McCoys, and a randomly villainous matriarch who decides to keep being the villain because... conflict, I guess? Sure, there were a few original ideas—mostly involving Klaus's wife and the couple's struggle with having children—but overall nothing to write home about. The "feelsy" moments were unearned; I felt nothing.

Now, you'll notice that in the previous paragraph, I described many cliches, but I would not describe Klaus as cliche. I would describe it as mediocre. As I said, it was an ok story, but only ok. The problem was that it took its cliches and painted by numbers, which is why it could never rise above mediocrity. A film that knows how to play with cliches—not even necessarily subverting them, but just getting creative with them—can rise to greater heights.

Cliches as Genre: Road to El Dorado

Let's look at another gorgeously 2-D animated film: The Road to El Dorado. This film, too, is rife with cliches: Europeans being mistaken for gods by a non-western civilization, a witch doctor (basically), going native, the Leyenda Negra, and so on. It also features the cliche of two scoundrels going on what is basically a buddy-comedy adventure. The thing about many of these cliches is that they are part of the genre. That genre is as general as "Adventure fiction", where it's not unusual to encounter witch doctors and native tribes and such, and as precise as "Road to" comedies of Bob Hope and Bing Crosby, which El Dorado is unarguably a pastiche of. Simply read the "running gags" section about these films on Wikipedia and you have a blueprint for El Dorado.

And that's the point. El Dorado follows a number of cliches because those are staples of its genre. Cliches, contrary to popular opinion, are not only not an automatic flaw in, but are often essential to, a work, especially when those cliches are what make a story a recognizable example of the genre in question.

El Dorado, however, plays with it's cliches. Most notably, it portrays the natives as normal human beings, which, lets be honest, a lot of old-timey adventure fiction didn't do. Miguel, one of the two main characters, sees the beauty of the culture he and Tulio, the other lead, find themselves in. The "white men mistaken for gods" trope is also played with in that the chief of the tribe figures out rather quickly (or possibly always knew) that Miguel and Tulio are just normal men like himself.

Thankfully, the film never strays into noble-savage territory, which lesser stories stumble into in their attempt to make up for the racism of the past. The natives have personalities, flaws, and vices. Chel, the female lead, is a floozy and a thief who happily joins the con that Miguel and Tulio are pulling, which she sees through immediately. Tzekel-Kan, a priest of a human-sacrifice-loving religion, is not only a zealot, but also a murderer, in that he sacrifices his own assistant to summon up a Jaguar spirit to hunt down the two false gods (yeah, that happens. Seriously, if you haven't seen this movie, you're missing out!). The characters, both white and POC, are fleshed out and three dimensional.

Finally, there is the story itself, and it's conclusion. Let's compare it to Klaus.

Conclusions

For those who never saw it, Klaus ends with a Liar Revealed scene where the scheme of the main character, Jesper, is revealed, and all his friends frown at him despite him obviously having changed by that point. Then a chase scene happens so Jesper can prove he's really changed, then a reveal that there was no good reason for the chase scene to have happened, then the main character is forgiven for his honestly-not-that-bad previous lies.

The whole story boils down to rich-kid learns a lesson and opens his heart, giving up his richness for the true treasure of generosity. Unfortunately, a lot of that was derailed by the weird Hatfields-McCoys subplot, which felt cartoonish next to the heartfelt-ness the rest of the film was trying (and maybe failing...) to achieve. It felt forced, in that the film needed that subplot so the chase could happen, and they only needed that so the Liar Revealed could make up for his Revealed Lies. Bleh.

El Dorado was more organic. Miguel and Tulio, by the last third of the film, have grudgingly decided to go their separate ways, with Miguel deciding to stay in El Dorado (the city), which he has fallen in love with, and Tulio and Chel going off with a shipful of gold that they presumably sail back to Spain ("And buy Spain!"). These are not happy conclusions, as it means a break in their inseparable friendship.

But then, Cortez, the Big Bad, shows up! Note, unlike the Hatfield-McCoys in Klaus, he is introduced in the beginning of the film as an actual threat, and has an understandable goal: conquest and gold. Miguel and Tulio, knowing this, decide he has to be stopped. That's when Tulio—the objectively more greedy, in-it-for-himself, not-gone-native of the pair—realizes that the only way to save the city is to crash his boat into the columns at the city entrance. It's a good plan, but will mean that he has to sacrifice what he wants: gold. But he makes the sacrifice, because he has become more that just a guy lying about being a god for money.

But then the boat isn't going to make it fast enough because the sail is stuck! It's gonna crash, and not in the way they wanted! Miguel, who had fallen in love with El Dorado and was willing to part ways with his friend and treasure to stay there, as to ride out on his horse and jump onto the mast to unfurl the sail. He knows the ship will then whoosh towards the columns and the only entrance to his beloved city with be destroyed, stopping Cortez, but also blocking him from the city forever. But he makes the sacrifice, because he cares enough about the people in El Dorado to let them go, and enough about his friend to not let him smack into the columns and die.

The Liar Revealed: Why It's Bad

Those were the conclusions to each movie, but not the conclusion to this blog. We still haven't discussed why the liar revealed is so lame, and how to fix it.

First, what is it? Basically, Main Character lies about something—his motives, his identity, etc.—for a large chunk of the story, then somewhere around the third act, his lie is revealed! Usually, this means that all the other characters turn their back on him, literally and figuratively, because they can't imagine how he could do something so terrible. Then, he does something to prove his mettle and his heart, and then everyone forgives him.

And I hate it. I hate it for three particular reasons.

First, it is just a different version of the thing that happens in romcoms where the main couple should declare their love for each other, but because the writer wouldn't know what to do at that point, they introduce a stupid misunderstanding that could be cleared up in two seconds if the leads talked like grown-ups. The Liar Revealed is that stupid, tired trope, but for kids.

Second, the lie is sometimes understandable, or not even that bad. In Klaus, Jesper claimed to be trying to spread hope and good cheer by sending kids presents, but in reality, he was trying to rack up the number of packages/letters he sent to prove to his dad he wasn't a useless layabout. How... despicable? Is it though? And can't he do both? He literally did, and he could have said so, except that the movie pulled a romcom and he got seperated from his friends before being able to explain that it started out mercenary and then quickly grew into the real deal. Even if it hadn't, though, like... is wanting to prove that your not a gutless layabout a bad thing? I don't get it.

Third is when the lie might be bad, but it's too late to care. In A Bug's Life, the colony learns that the so called warriors that Flik brought them are actually circus performers, so they have a reason to be miffed. Then again, they learn this on the eave of the day the grasshoppers will come to murder them all, and as Flik says, his bird doohickey will work. Not only does the colony have no reason to doubt this, they have no better options. Get all frowny and turn your backs on him after you lose the battle tomorrow, cause you have no time for such romcom drama tonight.

The Liar Revealed: When It's Good

Now, just because the Liar Revealed is awful doesn't mean that we can't keep having liars who eventually prove that they've changed in our fiction. But we don't have to follow the same tired trope.

For example, Over the Hedge has the Liar of RJ the Raccoon be Revealed, but saves the fallout between him and the other animals for a later action sequence, with hilarious results. Watch Schaffrillas Productions's video “Why Over the Hedge is Surprisingly Good” for a more detailed explanation of how this trope is dealt with in this film.

Or we have Tangled, where Eugene, by rights, should follow the Liar Revealed trajectory. He starts off scruffy and selfish, then slowly falls for Rapunzel and her good and pure outlook on life. He goes to give the Stabbington brothers the swiped crown that he no longer desires, but gets conked on the head by Gothel, who tells Rapunzel that he left with it cause he was just using her. We have a misunderstanding; we have a Rapunzel sadly walking away from the "liar"; we have the trappings of the last act of a romcom. But then, the real liar is revealed: Mother Gothel! And as soon as Rapunzel knows this, she never doubts Eugene, because that would be boring and nonsensical.

Finally, we have Road to El Dorado, with two liars, Miguel and Tulio, who are pretending to be gods to get wealth and adventure. They change over the course of the film to care about something more. They prove this change in a climactic scene We have all of the Liar Revealed, except for the reveal. There is no scene where everyone in the city frown and turns their backs, because that's not needed. The story isn't about the characters earning the forgiveness of the community like in Klaus, or proving themselves like in A Bug's Life. It's about two dudes who are scoundrelly friends going on an adventure, becoming a little less scoundrelly, and remaining friends. In the end, they both gave up what they wanted, but that's ok, because they have each other. Is it cliche? You bet! But that's way better than being mediocre.

#road to el dorado #el dorado #klaus #klaus is overrated #cliches #tropes #the liar revealed #liar revealed #musings #writeblr #writelr #film analysis #story analysis #movie analysis #tulio and miguel #miguel and tulio #unpopular opinion #writing blog #story blog #plot analysis