#this was a big build up for a very mediocre punch line | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

brodependent · 3 years

Text

Sam loves Dean as much as Dean loves Sam: a meta

Much as I love reading good meta, I don’t often write meta. Thus please accept my apologies if this is mediocre, and let me start with a simple topic sentence:

Sam loves Dean as much as Dean loves Sam.

A little longer, now: Sam is even better at loving Dean than Dean is at loving Sam because of Dean’s profound and abiding love for Sam.

Confusing, right? But not really.

We all know how Dean lives and breathes SammySammySammywatchoutforSammy. It’s his defining mission, his ultimate purpose, or, as a therapist might say, his “core belief.” But sometimes I think that we allow adult!Dean too little autonomy. We assume that he can’t help himself: he’s locked into this single-minded focus, on loving and protecting the only family he has left.

That sells Dean short. (Hang in there, I promise I’ll get to Sam in a moment.)

Even people who have been forced into a certain way of life have choices. Even people who have been told who they are all their life have choices. Dean tells us, in Season 14, I’m good with who I am--and I, for one, believe him. Whether we follow canon all the way to 15x17, when Dean is finally brought back from the edge of his desire for revenge against Chuck by his love for Sam (the only thing that’s “real”), or whether we keep to season 1 when Dean said--that’s all we have...that’s all I have... and I want us to be a family again and as long as I’m around, nothing bad is gonna happen to you--Dean has always accepted his role as Sam’s big brother. Dean’s life is unabashedly Sam-centric. He’d change a lot of things, but in the end he’d change nothing, because he wouldn’t change that.

Some fans get very het up about the codependent aspect of this. Others (in my opinion, rightly) defend it. There’s scads of meta on why the Winchester dynamic IS necessary for their mythic role in the narrative, and their human role in the narrative (more importantly), so I won’t write that meta now. All I’m saying is what I think you already know: Dean lives for Sam, his baby brother, and despite the grief, the growing pains, the occasional cruelty of desperate love, Dean said it all when he told Sam (and us), Don’t you ever think that there is anything, past or present that I would put in front of you.

So where does that leave Sam, and his love for Dean? Let’s start with that line I just quoted. Building on the above, Dean’s goal in life is to give Sam a life. He wants Sam to be happy. He wants him to be free. He also wants to keep him by his side forever, to control him for safety and comfort’s sake, and sometimes those instincts of a frightened-child-turned-traumatized-man win out. Dean isn’t perfect. Dean’s full of contradictions. But time and again he goes back to stone number one: what he can do for Sam. What he can offer Sam, by being the grunt, by standing in harm’s way.

When we begin the story, Sam has succeeded in the path Dean helped carve for him. I’m not taking all the credit from Sam here, and giving it Dean: merely pointing out that Dean stepped into traditional parental roles and helped send Sam into adulthood, even though that meant Sam leaving him. We know that the night Sam left for Stanford was one of the worst of Dean’s life, but even in mid-season 1, Dean tells Sam he’s proud of him. You always know what you want. You stand up to Dad. Hell, sometimes I wish I--

(this, of course, is beautifully echoed in the series finale itself)

Dean is telling Sam what so many parents tell their children: you have gone places I never could, accomplished goals I never could, grown in grace and understanding like I never could. At least, I like to think that’s what the best parents tell their children.

To Dean, Sam is always the one with more hope. More wholeness. More options. To Sam, Dean is stone number one.

You asked how Sam loves Dean, and my answer is: just look. Look at how Sam goes out into the world young, stands up to their father, makes his own decisions, fights back against Dean’s own nihilistic narrative through their primary losses and setbacks. Dean gave Sam the safety to build a better worldview than Dean himself has, and Sam turns that right back around and tries to give it to Dean.

What do you think my job is? You’re my big brother--there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.

I can’t lose you.

You’re not a grunt, Dean, you’re a genius.

This is my life. I love it. But I can’t do it without my brother. I don’t want to do it without my brother.

I am going to save my brother. And then I’m going to kill you dead.

If you ever need to talk about anything with anybody, you got somebody right here next to you.

I believe in us.

This is just a small collection of Sam quotes showing his love for Dean. A small collection showing the persistent theme of Sam’s persistence. He knows that pushing chick-flick moments and emotional conversations can get jokes for a dime a dozen, and even the occasional punch thrown his way. He keeps at it anyway. When Sam knows Dean’s hurting, he wants to help. He’d do anything to help. He won’t sit around and see his brother turn into an embittered killer (season 2), go to hell for saving his life (season 3), take on the Trials (season 8), be irrevocably corrupted by the Mark of Cain (seasons 9-10), let him despair (seasons 11 and 13), let him sacrifice himself to an archangel’s grave (season 14), or let him lose his goodness to the whims of a vicious god (season 15). Sam fights for Dean with full use of his considerable gifts--intelligence, rationality, resourcefulness, and yes, the occasional blind rage. Sam looks to Dean, first as a leader, then as a judge, and finally as an equal. Sam has been looking up to Dean since he was four, yes, but over the course of the show he comes to look at Dean. With love, peace, understanding, humor, pain...whatever their inimitable connection requires.

The quotes I noted above also reveal Sam’s own conflicts rear up. Sam and Dean (again, in my opinion) are equally developed characters. Both have flaws and inconsistencies. Both have struggles inherent to their personalities and upbringings, distinct from those imposed on them by supernatural forces.

Sam had a glimpse of a different life, once. He had the smarts, he had the drive, he had the sheer stubbornness to live a different life than John or Azazel or hell, even Lucifer had planned for him. But also in Sam--innate in Sam--is his core of goodness and compassion and the principle of doing right, which leads him back into the life and to soul-crushing sacrifice again and again.

Sam breaks and is broken. Sam suffers and ages and spends more time in hell than even Dean, who went to protect him.

But what keeps Sam going? Dean. Dean can’t live without Sam. We know that. The flip side is that Sam doesn’t want to live without Dean. Importantly, I think, he has more choice in the matter. Dean focused his whole childhood identity on giving Sam a life that meant he had choices, even if Dean didn’t know he was doing that. Sam can move through more crowds, more roles, more relationships. He has a better education, he has a more powerful ability to intellectually reason and detach. He would have made a great lawyer. Yet he casts all this aside out of sheer willpower, choosing instead to love Dean and live with Dean through the chaos of their lives, and to go near mad when Dean is gone. Consider Sam in season 4, Sam in season 10...Sam in season 8 trying to atone for the very choice that Dean (the best part of Dean) wanted him to make, even if the real muddle of Dean’s psyche couldn’t forgive him, for a time, for making it.

All of this leads us to the finale.

You said you wish Sam had said I love you back to Dean in the finale. I argue that he did. He made his love perfectly clear to Dean in that moment by holding his hand, by looking in his eyes. He said, you can go now, when all he wanted was for Dean to stay.

The best part of Dean wanted Sam to have happiness and freedom. At the end of his life, Dean was finally able to communicate that without fear or reservation.

But the bittersweet brilliance of that moment is that Sam--the Stanford boy who went to hell and back, who saved the world, brought down one god and raised another--no longer wanted any kind of happiness or freedom that didn’t include the one person who’d been by his side all along. Dean was giving his blessing for a path that didn’t beckon Sam anymore. And yet: Sam said yes to it out of the love for Dean. Sam went out of that barn, out of the bunker, out of that day and that year and that decade and into the next and the next, out of love for Dean. Sam loved Dean by living. He loved Dean by raising another Winchester. He loved Dean by holding all their contradictions, flaws, and heroisms in his heart (in their car), until he’d done what he set out to do many times over.

Then he met Dean on a mended bridge, dressed in old clothes that said: I was happiest at the beginning. I was happiest when we could be brothers again. I took my time getting here anyway, because I know that was what you wanted. I took my time so that we could be happiest now.

If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.

#my meta #meta #spn meta #the epic love story of sam and dean #sam winchester #dean winchester #spn positive #spn #supernatural #carry on #spn finale #sam loves dean as much as dean love sam #winchesters #sam n dean #sam and dean

576 notes · View notes

98shawns · 4 years

Text

trusting you; trusting me. (t.c.)

dating in the workplace may be tough, but your new hopeless romantic of an assistant makes it worthwhile.

(coworker au, boss x assistant au)

chapters: one, two

words: 2500

warnings: mentions of nsfw (none in this chapter unfortunately, but def in the next !!)

a/n: long time no post !! i wrote this such a long time ago and it’s collecting dust so i might as well post without worrying too much about how it will do, right? lol, hopefully i can get to writing more !!

Keeping a poker face is easy until the new employee transferring into your department was the guy you’d just spent the night with.

You keep your expression contained as you make a beeline towards your office. This wasn’t the plan. The plan was for you to let off some steam with some good looking guy at the bar and then leave without a trace the morning after. He was nice. Style, charisma, and a boyish charm all wrapped in one handsome package. Just your type.

And you believe that you’d caught his fancy as well. He slipped his number written down on a napkin that sat wedged into your car’s sun blocker. (You’ve been pondering on whether or not you should shoot him a message all morning).

But as much as you enjoyed his company, he wasn’t supposed to be following you around.

‘I’m going crazy,’ You’re quick to frantically grab the file placed on your desk earlier this morning. Surely enough, Timothée Chalamet would be starting as your new assistant.

/////

“Fancy seeing you here,” is how Timothée greets you when you let him into your office. You bite your cheek as you frown at his words.

“Stop addressing me so casually. I’m your superior.” You lean back in your chair and offer Timothée a seat in front of your desk. His lips press into a straight line as he responds with a curt nod before eventually sitting down in front of you.

The atmosphere was heavy but you find yourself feeling somewhat relieved upon seeing the uneasiness in Timothée’s expression. It seemed like he wasn’t expecting an early reunion either.

“Let me get straight to the point,” you start, leaning forward and clasping your hands together as you rest your elbows on your desk. You see Timothée’s body visibly tense up.

“We’ll be spending a lot of time together from here on out. In regards to what happened last night, we can’t let it affect our practice here. While we’re in this building, we’re coworkers first. Got it?” Timothée nods in a silent agreement, and you try your best to not drown in how uncomfortable you had to make the situation for the both of you. It was protocol for situations like these, but you hated the thought of being professional to the man who sweet-talked you for the duration of all of last night.

“That’s all. I know it’s a lot for your first day, but try your best. Most of our coworkers are all great people so hopefully they can help you adjust. If you need anything, just ask.” You end the conversation with a send-off you once read in a self-help book about excelling in management. It was just a standard between a manager and a worker; hopefully a standard the both of you will be able to upkeep.

You eventually stand up and extend your hand to give your new assistant a handshake. He stands with you and clasps your hand firmly.

‘He has a good handshake…’ You think about how odd it was that you held this very hand last night. It was cold and fragile yet still big and protective when he held you. He had long fingers and surprisingly soft skin; his hands were noticeably beautiful. You told him so as you dozed off in the wee hours of the morning.

Your touch lingers a few seconds longer than it should before you let go.

“Thank you.” Timothée breathes a sigh of relief as he bids you farewell and you let yourself fall back into your chair after he closed the door behind him.

/////

You were always the last to leave, especially on a weekend. Even a few years ago when you were stationed at the cubicle in the back of the office, one row of fluorescent lights would stay illuminating your space.

You were a hard worker with big plans. Everyone in your relatively new branch was around your age so you were well liked, admired, respected, or at least acknowledged by your coworkers by the time you eventually got promoted to a managerial position. The youngest manager in the company. You deserved it, and you would make sure that you’d aim higher. Nothing would come between you and your performance.

Well, maybe nothing but the new assistant you accidentally slept with a week ago.

“Can I talk to you?” You jump at the sound of Timothée’s voice. He looked up at you as he sat on the couch outside your office with his suit jacket slung over his shoulder and his briefcase resting beside him. Your hands grasp the door frame as you check the clock on your office wall. He’d been waiting for the last two hours for you to come out.

“Of course! You could have just knocked at 5:00–“

“It... isn’t about work.”

By the time you turned back to him he’d stood up. He fidgeted with his hands, putting them halfway into his pockets before eventually folding them in front of his body. You think of all the possibilities that would play out if you said yes and you consider telling him to wait until Monday when you’d see each other at work again. In a professional setting. You knew along the lines of what he was about to ask, and now wasn’t the time to get caught up in your emotions. Not when you’d only been promoted two years ago.

But for some reason, something pulls at your heartstrings as you observe Timothée’s demeanour. He seemed so… innocent as he tried his best to be patient while he waited for a response.

You sigh and step outside your office, closing the door behind you. You stood still for a moment before caving.

“Have you eaten yet?”

When his face lights up, you realize that your new assistant may have you wrapped around his little finger.

/////

You don’t know why you chose to come to Denny’s to have this conversation with Timothée, but it somehow felt right. Eating mediocre breakfast foods drowned in maple syrup helped to mask the fact that the two of you being together like this was, well, wrong.

“Are you adjusting well?” You break the silence. Well, silence other than the sounds of forks and knives clanking against each other. Timothée swallows a ball of nervousness down with his chocolate chip pancakes and nods.

“You’re right, everyone at our branch is really nice.” He smiles politely and it makes you feel uncomfortable. He seemed so free spirited when you first met him, but that was when you were just a person at a bar. Not his boss.

“That’s good.” You smile back. It’s not like you weren’t guilty either; he wasn’t just a charming boy approaching you with a cheesy one liner anymore. He was your employee.The two of you sit in each other’s silence for a moment longer.

“Thanks again,” He starts. Your eyes avert to his.

“For what?”

“You’re not treating me any differently even though it must have been hard to stay professional for a whole week. You even let me keep my job.”

“You thought I was going to fire you?” You ask, somewhat in disbelief. The more you think about it, firing him would make sense if you were heartless. He nods casually. “I was 100% positive when you called me into your office Monday morning.”

You try not to express your concern towards Timothée’s confession. It wasn’t your fault you accidentally slept with your new assistant but it obviously wasn’t his either. As long as you stayed professional during work hours, what was the problem? It’s not like he wouldn’t be able to redirect your calls or organize your schedule. The last thing you’d want was for him to feel uncomfortable towards you; he was your employee after all.

Yeah… your employee.

You wonder if that’s why you take the extra liberty of comforting him, and before you know it words of consolation becomes friendly conversation. It’s alright if you spend the next two or three hours chatting about nothing and everything at the same time … you weren’t at work, after all. There was no need to be so stiff around each other.

“We should get going,” You check the time: 11:30 p.m. You should have wrapped this up hours ago. You don’t notice Timothée’s smidgen of a smile as he watches you gather your belongings. He eventually stands up to grab your trench coat off the coat hanger beside your booth. You scoff as he holds it up for you, eventually helping you slip into it before he shrugs on his own jacket.

“Together?” The monotonous waitress, who’d been taking care of you since you entered, punched a few buttons on the cash register. You noticed that she’d let her hair down and put on a sweater as you walk up to the counter to pay for your meal. She must be getting ready to go home as well.

“Actually–“

“Yes, please.” Timothée cuts you off by giving his card to the waitress, effectively stopping you from rummaging through your purse.

“What are you doing?” You whisper, watching Timothée’s face as he punches his card combination into the machine. He only smiles when he hears the beep of an approved transaction, and thanks the waitress before finally turning towards you.

“You paid last time.” He shrugs. You feel your heart flutter as he reminded you of the weekend you spent with him.

‘Oh no,’ You think, following him out into the parking lot and back to your car. This wasn’t going to lead to where you thought it was going to, would it…? He joined you for dinner, he listened to your mindless conversation, he helped you with your jacket, he paid for your food…

Well, it was fun while it lasted.

“Timothée,” As the two of you walked out onto the parking lot, he’d just opened the car door when you called his name. He stares up at you with a grin, his hand still resting on top of the car door. You swallow your nervousness. “what did you really want to talk about?”

The subtlety of Timothée’s faltering grin is hard to catch. He was well aware of it too, how tonight didn’t feel like a simple get together between two professionals… actually, it felt quite the opposite. Almost like a date.

“I like you.” He says, completely serious. You bite your cheek. “A lot.”

“We’re coworkers.”

“Can we not be more than just coworkers?”

You frown at his question. Maybe it was because he was young, but Timothée’s aggressiveness and passion makes your heart squeeze in your chest. You wanted to ask that question too, why couldn’t you be anything more?

“I’ve only known you for a week. I see you every weekday because I’m your boss. It’d be too much for us,” You start, finally stepping into your car and slamming the door shut. Timothée follows, and you keep on chewing at your cheek. You shouldn’t be so defensive; you had to stay professional. “at least not while we’re so young.”

“But we’ve got our whole life ahead of us, shouldn’t we at least try? We’re at the age where we can’t just waste our chances while they’re running out.” You let out a scoff at his words as you start the car, but you don’t say anything in response. You didn’t want him to know that his words resonated deeper within you that they should have.

You start the drive to his house in silence, and Timothée sighs as he lets his back collide with the seat of your car in frustration. Your relationship as coworkers was not coming to a very good start, but you suppose that it had to start somewhere. Plus if he was looking for a relationship with someone, there were plenty of great looking people at the office. He’d get over it and so would you.

“We’re here.” You say, pulling in the parking lot next to Timothée’s apartment building. Timothée turns to you one last time, and with a sigh, unbuckles his seatbelt.

“Thank you for the ride.” You nod and keep your eyes glued to your steering wheel, waiting for him to leave. You don’t see his gaze avert to your eyes, then to your lips. Timothée opens his mouth but says nothing, only pressing his lips together as he opens your car door to step out onto the pavement beneath you.

You feel yourself sigh in relief when he shuts the door. Don’t look back, you tell yourself. You wouldn’t be able to control yourself if you did. Instead you fiddle with your sun blocker to distract yourself.

Thoughts of Timothée swirled through your mind, especially what he had said before you drove him home. Don’t waste chances while they run out.

You let out a halfhearted scoff. You could only wish to think like that. To be impulsive and take chances as they arise but you can’t. Sure you were jealous, but you’ve got too much on the line… too much to risk.

You lower your sun blocker and notice a forgotten napkin slip out and onto your lap. Timothée’s number from last week. You frown.

You were just a coward.

Fuck it.

“Timothée, wait!” You call, practically jumping out of your car before running towards your assistant. You get as far as the front entrance before you see that he’d already gone inside and stepped into the elevator.

He only notices you behind the glass doors when he turns and looks up, just as the elevator doors begin to close.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, just after he stops the elevator from closing with his arm and runs towards you. He opens the door for you and you slowly walk inside, panting from your run over.

“I have to tell you something,” Timothée nods expectedly, and you rub the back of your neck.

“I really don’t think it’ll work out.” You start, watching the hopefulness in Timothée’s eyes die out. Just a bit.

“I barely know you– I liked you from when we slept together but that’s it. I was wondering where we were going to go afterwards as well, but when I saw you at the office last week, I thought I had my answer.” You step closer to him.

“But now I’m wondering… I really don’t know anymore. Maybe this isn’t going anywhere– I can’t be so sure. But when I’m looking back at the past seventy years, what’s the first week, really?” Timothée’s lips part as you look into his eyes, and you feel a warmth rising up to your cheeks. “Wanna go out?”

The corners of Timothée’s lips immediately upturn at the sound of your words, and his hand shoots up to his mouth to cover his smile. Though, you end up seeing it anyways as it travels to his eyes.

“If you’ll have me.”

#Timothee Chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet imagines #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee x you #timothee chalamet x you #timothee imagine #timothee fanfic

207 notes · View notes

scope-dogg · 3 years

Text

Super Beast Machine God Dancouga: Final Thoughts

“It’s complicated” can be a big of a copout when you’re weighing up whether to recommend something or not. In the case of this show and its trio of follow-up OVAs, it genuinely is kind of complicated. There was a lot I already liked about Dancouga even before I started watching - several of its soundtracks have had pride of place in my music playlists for years now, while the robot itself has been one of my favourite super robot designs for just as long, that being mostly fuelled by the machine’s status as a long-time Super Robot Wars stalwart. The same series made me a fan of the head pilot Shinobu Fujiwara and his trademark warcry of “YATTE YARUZE.” That said, I already went in with my expectations tempered by other opinions I’ve seen the generally weren’t quite so favourable as my expectations might have been.

Well, now I’ve seen it. In many ways, I really did enjoy it - the music is even better in its proper context, it’s cool to see where all the moves that Dancouga busts out in SRW came from, and Shinobu and the rest of the cast are as entertaining as I might have imagined in the primary material. Above all else, it surprised me by throwing in some ideas that were pretty original by the standards of its time, and some that are unique even compared to the rest of the genre as a whole. I really did enjoy a good amount of genuine enjoyment from the experience.

That doesn’t mean, however, that I’m going to recommend it. In fact, I just straight up don’t.

You see, there’s a lot of bad to go with the good in the show’s original anime run, to the degree that calling it “a mixed bag” would be too disingenuous. A promising start with some pretty great animation and production values quickly gives way to a level of quality that ranges from mediocre to shockingly poor, not only by today’s standards but those of the time. I don’t know the behind-the-scenes story of the show’s production, but it’s blatantly obvious that they found themselves out of money hilariously quickly, and they end up limping along on a shoestring budget. Stock footage abuse, animation errors, and just cheap and shoddy-looking artwork in general pile up until the result is a production that looks genuinely amateurish at times.

It’s a shame, because it’s a disservice to a show that’s actually fairly interesting in a lot of ways. The premise of Earth being invaded by an alien empire isn’t new, but typically shows of this setup from this era of anime follow a predictable pattern - a squad of hot-blooded youngsters is promptly assembled, thrown into the show’s resident giant robot, and sent off to fight off the aliens for as many formulaic monster-of-the-week style episodes as necessary. Here things aren’t so simple - there is the requisite squad of plucky youngsters, but it takes time for the team to properly assemble and to master their machine - in fact, they don’t even combine into Dancouga until the show’s halfway in. That’s actually more interesting than it sounds, because it means that the individual machines that make up Dancouga get a lot more screentime than they otherwise would in a show like Combattler V, for instance, which is cool because each of the four different ones has a vehicle form, a bestial animal form, and a humanoid configuration.

It also allows for the setting to be more interesting - humanity’s war against the Muge Zorbados invaders is more interesting than conflicts of this nature tend to be in old super robot shows. Instead of sending one gimmicky monster or robot at a time, the invasion comes in force, and the enemy takes over much of the world while the heroes of the Cyber Beast Force are still building themselves up. The war ends up being more of an asymmetrical war of resistance involving all of mankind rather than hinging solely on duels between the protagonists and the monster of the week. The invaders themselves are more interesting than usual as well, as the egos of each of the invading generals clash with one another. By far the most interesting villain is Shapiro Keats, a fellow member of the academy that the leads Shinobu, Sara, Masato and Ryo attended, whose megalomania leads him to betray mankind and defect to the aliens in a bid to elevate his own power and prestige and fulfil his own delusions of godhood. A lot of the challenges that the CBF face in the early parts of the show come more from Shapiro’s treachery and clever planning rather than gimmicky alien technologies.

However, while it has interesting ideas, the show never seems to be able to pull them off to their full potential. Ironically it’s Dancouga’s long-awaited and heavily-hyped arrival that heralds the death of much of the interesting elements to the story. In addition to being the biggest casualty of the show’s animation budget, Dancouga’s not implemented in a very interesting way in the show’s original anime run - whereas before battles were a test of the protagonists’ skill and strategy, Dancouga’s overpowering nature trivialises much of the action. It doesn’t help that its repertoire is limited to punching, shooting lasers, and on special occasions shooting a really big laser. As a result, the show loses momentum as it enters its final stages, as Dancouga just bulldozes over Muge Zorbados’ armies. It’s also around this time that the writers lose touch with what makes Shapiro Keats an interesting villain. He was compelling because of his sheer lack of redeeming features and total megalomania, yet more and more focus gets pushed onto his past romance with Sara, the show’s female co-protagonist. It seems like we’re meant to sympathise with him and her because of this lovers-to-anime arc, but Shapiro never ends up being anything less than a vile piece of shit with no redeeming features that leaves you boggling at what Sara could have ever possibly seen in him, and rolling your eyes whenever she’s shown to be struggling with having to fight him. Ultimately, the plot culminates in what must have been an awfully unsatisfying cliffhanger at the time.

However, that wasn’t the show’s real end, because it went on to spawn several OVAs. The first is Requiem for Victims, which portrays the final confrontation with Muge Zorbados. This is an immediate improvement in many ways, getting many things right that the show got badly wrong. First of all, the animation is far superior, as you might expect from an OVA - the difference is beyond night and day. Furthermore, it gives Dancouga some more interesting weapons and attacks to work with, and explores more of what makes it special as a machine beyond just being big and powerful. In spite of this, it also features the most fraught and exciting fights that it ever takes part in. Overall, it’s a massive improvement.

The peak, however, is probably the next OVA in line, God Bless Dancouga - taking place some time after Requiem, it’s got the best production values of anything with the Dancouga named attached. The story isn’t anything to write home about if I’m being honest, but it’s not bad either - if all you want is to see the characters interact with one another, then it ticks all the boxes. The animation is absolutely superb the whole way through, and while Dancouga doesn’t actually have a great deal of screentime, it makes it count big time when it does - chances are if you saw it use a cool attack in an SRW game, it got used first in this OVA.

I was really hoping that the OVAs could go three for three and pull off a great conclusion that’d make the time spent worth it, but that sadly wasn’t the case. Blazing Epilogue is a 4-parter that starts off promisingly plot-wise, but the production values are for the most part not up to the standards set by God Bless Dancouga or even Requiem for Victims - it’s not as bad as the original series, but it’s not especially good by the standards of 1990 when it was released. Worse is the fact that while the plot’s pretty good in episodes 1 through 3, it lets itself down for the finale, wrapping things up in an abrupt way that ended up making the whole exercise feel fairly pointless. It’s a total anticlimax and a weak way to wrap things up.

Of course, that wasn’t the absolute end, as the show got a modern sequel in the shape of Dancouga Nova in the 2000s, but I’m saving that for another day - it features all-new characters and is by all accounts very different from the original. As for the original Dancouga saga, like I said to open - it’s complicated. Personally, I think I enjoyed myself more than I didn’t - but I also don’t think that’d hold true for most people. I came to this already endeared to the robot, characters, and certain aspects of its presentation to the degree, and that helped me to power through a lot of the rockier moments in this so that I could see them in their original incarnation. For other people who aren’t super robot addicts like me, I just think the lows are too low and the highs aren’t high or numerous enough to warrant it being worth most people’s time.

#dancouga #mecha #respect the robot

11 notes · View notes

dukeofriven · 4 years

Text

Steven Universe Future had two challenges it had to overcome: First was that it had to prove that with twenty episodes it could tell a more complete and meaningful resolution than Change Your Mind managed in a single thirty-second shot: in other words, it had to demonstrate that it could more meaningfully summate and resolve the narrative tension of the work than the shot of Steven embracing himself, and understanding himself to be himself. The second challenge was that it had to outperform Steven Universe: The Movie in showing ‘what happens after The End.’

And it failed. That that... nothing was what all this was leading to is flabbergasting. I have often been frequently discomforted by Steven Universe Future: I said more than once that this show, episode after episode, seemed to have narrowed-in on my adult trauma and separated it into component parts. Being so distorted by rage you feel like you’re flying to pieces? Feel that down in my soul. SUF was building to something - some people thought it was a narrative truth, some final revelation about Pink Diamond, but it was always more likely an emotional truth: whatever it was it was big and heavy and was going to hit like a meteorite. And then it... didn’t? There is something to be said for subverting expectations: the devil’s advovate wants to point to The Holy Grail as a film that builds to an ending that gets the rug pulled out of it at the last second. But that kind of irony isn’t really Steven Universe’s mode of story. The show has often handled ‘big battle segues into talking things out’ very well (see, again, Change Your Mind). The fact that the resolution to Steven’s problems would be found in talking and not fighting was never in question. What was in question was what kind of conversation would it be. And the answer was ‘everyone stands around and restates their primary character flaw from, like, season 2.’ okay, they don’t stand, they hug, but it’s where Steven Universe Future just falls over and dies with a sad little wet fart of a dying balloon. I mean the tension was already gone: there’s no sense of menace from KAijuSteven, there’s not really any thematic reason to go with a giant kaiju except it’s maybe the one anime trope the show hasn’t hit yet. It’s not a visually interesting kaiju: it’s kind of awful, honestly, and for a show that’s so great about changing bodies that still retain some semblance of original personalities, it doesn’t much seem like Steven. It’s a fight of mediocrity: the fight between Alexandrite and Malachite had more oomph, and I always forget that happened.

But forget the fight: bad fight choreography can be forgiven if the show nails the emotional tone. But what is this... this nothing! Why is Steven Universe Future regressing to character beats from years ago? BAM BAM BAM we had emotional punches over and over: Jasper, the White Diamond screaming scene, Steven losing it in the hospital - what’s it going to take to bring our boy home and help him heal? Warmed-over season 1 scripts, I guess. Connie’s argument that everyone always leans on Steven and he never leans on them in return is... completely divorced from the text of the show: the entire first seasons were about Steven learning to step out from the gems shadows, and even in later seasons where he has largely become the Leader Of The Crystal Gems the interplay of ‘we all rely on one another’ remained strong. I... I.... Ugh. I think what rankles is that the solution to Steven’s problem i just a big group hug feels like... kind of a ‘oh fuck off’ moment. It’s a catharsis of emotional release that doesn’t genuinely seem grounded in any of the experiences Steven has just gone through: Steven cries all the time. Steven feels all the time. And Steven gets plenty of physical affection. The show seems to be playing the reversal card: Steven has helped so many villains hug it out and get in touch with their emotional sides, now it is used on him. But

But it worked on villains because they were touched starved. It works on them because they’ve been denied love, because they’re lonely. There’s sort of a theme going on earlier in SUF that part of Steven’s problem is that he’s afraid everyone’s moved on without him and that’s he’s stuck in old paradigms not knowing how to feel. But everyone hugging him, telling him its okay to feel is... it’s still an old paradigm! We’ve done ‘Steven gets angry’ before. A few times! WE”VE BEEN HERE ALREADY.

And a big group hug is - it’s not the fucking solution to the problem. Steven hasn’t had a problem with being emotionally closed - he was weeping over Jasper two episodes ago, and screaming out a lot of anguish through White an episode before that

Fuck, what am I even trying to say here? I think it’s this: what makes Change Your mind work so well is that it’s quiet. The real climax of the narrative arc isn’t the big fight with White’s SHip, it’s the almost-silence of Steven crawling across the floor, hugging himself, and laughing. It’s small and self-contained. The resolution to SU the Movie isn’t the fight on top of the drill, it’s the aftermath, the quiet little conversation with Steven and Spinel that finally gets through to her. The resolution to this is a massive, shouting group hug full of big loud emotional tears and it... makes the monster go away. It’s big and loud and noisy and it sucks.

This sucks. It’s a shockingly mediocre nothing that neither rises to the emotional complexity it raised in early episodes nor manages to subvert expectation by playing down to the truly intimate: it drags in an ensemble it’s spend the previous 17 episode not really doing anything with. God, I could talk about taht for ages - quick, what, if anything, was accomplished with spending a full eleven minutes giving a shit about Bluebird Azurite? SUF is horribly unfoccused, with the lighter ‘here’s some things that happened in the future’ ‘fan-service’ episodes being entirely unrelated to the the ‘Steven struggles to deal with anger’ plotline of the later episodes. The best moment in it is an off-handed comment by Steven that he’s talking toa therapist now. For fuck sake, that needs to be the fucking finale right there. The actual emotional catharsis the ‘defusing the kaiju’ needed wasn’t other people telling Steven how they care about them - in fact, that just plays right back into Connie’s point about making it about themselves. It’s that Steven needs the opportunity to talk about his problems and be heard - WITHOUT ANYONE IMMEDIATELY TRYING TO RESOLVE THE PROBLEM. No Greg giving a speech. No Garnet dropping some wisdom. No 15-point Pearl plan or Amethyst scheme. It neede deveryone on that bitch to sit down, shut the hell up, and just let Steven talk until he had talked himself out, and at no point offer any solutions. Those come later. First, important, desperate, is just to let him talk his shit out without anyone jumping on the issue. But it just get relegated to a throw-away line. God this was dull. More than anything it was just dull: it pulled every punch, and it blew all it’s surprises and twits on episode 1-17, I guess, because every moment lands exactly as you expect. It spent seventeen episodes acting like it had something really important to say about anger and an uncertain future and not knowing your place And then it got up to the mic and had nothing new to say. A show that triggered me this many times over the previous 17 episodes should have something fucking meaningful to say at the end of it, for pity’s sake. What a waste.

#Steven Universe Future #Steven Universe #suf spoilers #spoilers #SU #Steven Universe Future spoilers

12 notes · View notes

vapormaison · 4 years

Text

4 Future Funk Releases Deserving of a Vinyl Press

As 2020 looms, I inevitably start thinking about filing for tax returns. Maybe that’s a symbol of the rote, misery-inducing modernity of twenty-first-century life — but I’m trying to take it as a positive this year. Getting some cash back from the Internal Revenue Service means more disposable income to drop on vinyl. While I’ll be spending quite a bit more on Japanese ambient wax this year, I’ll be ear-marking a fair share to go into vaporwave and future funk releases.

With the platform that I have currently, it’s now a definite responsibility to identify some gems that deserve a label to step up and put together a killer release on wax. With the social reach that I’ve gotten in just two months of somewhat milquetoast long-form reviews, it’s honestly a bit insane — but I’m also insanely thankful. I certainly wasn’t expecting over 400 followers from Japan when I’m publishing in English, so — ありがとうございました!

Hi-fi appreciation tends to cross artificial barriers of language and nationality.

Over the past five days I’ve compiled a pretty exhaustive list of 100 digital-only and digital/cassette releases that I’ve streamed the most over the past year. To suss out which releases sounded best for hi-fi consumption, I decided to test them on my two Christmas gifts this holiday — A Cambridge Audio 851N network streamer/pre-amp and a pair of new “anniversary” JBL 4312 Mk2 speakers powered by my vintage H/K 700 series Amp. While most of the list slapped on this new kit, there were four releases that I felt were truly deserving of getting a wax treatment in 2020. These are, in effect, the ones I’d be a guaranteed buyer of. Here they are:

Marsy + HER by Marsy

Admittedly, I stumbled on Marsy’s work just by scrolling through the list of releases through Bogus Collective, which over the course of 2019 has rocketed to the top of my list of favorite digital labels for discovering new artists. While this is of course a fine way to discover an artist — I’m stunned that I didn’t first encounter Marsy’s work on the two most visible channels for future funk discovery and appreciation — Artzie & Real Love Music. Unfortunately Real Love and Artzie haven’t been keeping up with their releases, with the most recent video on youtube from either curator dating back to November 2018. While I do get a deja vu feeling with Marsy — as in, I must have seen them on these platforms before -- perhaps with actually being cognizant, an artist of this caliber should be all over those channels on a basis at least roughly corresponding with their releases.

Do better, fellas!

Marsy’s most recent work is an absolute banger with one of the widest mixes I’ve listened to this year. The JBLs absolutely ate up the rich bass and low-range in most of Marsy’s tracks, and for a moment I had to ask myself how this release was sitting around as a digital-only. This is just one of those funky profiles made for vinyl. That being said, 7 tracks seems a bit light for a twelve-inch LP, so if I was advising a label (happy to do this pro-bono!) I’d maybe pair this album with another robust, high-energy release from Marsy: 2018’s 5-track Her EP, which coincidentally has one of my favorite individual future funk tracks (愛のFantasy) and absolutely brilliant cover art.

Star Virgin -- サクラSAKURA-LEE

I’m going to go on a soapbox for a moment here: I don’t like Qrates. I’ve bought from Qrates campaigns before and often find their wax brittle and their presses tinny. Now, there are a whole host of reasons why this could be the case — vinyl necessitates a much longer production line — and this inevitably creates errors. But these errors should be corrected by someone in a quality control department. And if you talk to any of the major labels, relationships with QC/QA people are some of the most essential recipes to a good physical release. This is in effect the primary function of a physical-oriented underground label: ensuring a proper quality press by ordering tests, and keeping limited back stock in case there’s some kind of slip-up. Qrates campaigns don’t offer this in sufficient degrees — and as a result makes a lot of potential buyers feel insecure.

This all said, Sakura-Lee’s unsuccessful Qrates campaign shouldn’t be seen as a lack of desire to support a proper wax release of their iconic Star Virgin release — I genuinely think it’s regarding people’s reservations about dropping $30 or more for vinyl of potentially mediocre quality. Ultimately, this is where labels should step in, build up some buzz, and provide a modicum of quality assurance to truly finalize that sale. I’ve talked to a lot of audiophiles who would love the hear tracks like The Sweet Escape and Feelings with the warmth of vinyl. Sakura-Lee’s sound is so unique and so well-suited to the format. As an owner of the Star Virgin minidisc, I can certainly attest to the quality of that release and the great sound it’s produced on my hi-fi. But minidisc is cold. Crisp, but cold. Star Virgin is musical joie de vivre -- it has all the energy of life itself, and contrasts with the almost archival and clinical nature of the minidisc format. In my view, there’s no doubt that with the right master and press, this would produce an otherworldly sound worthy of its title once it finds its way onto wax -- hopefully in 2020!

Kween Pepsi -- Jesse Cassettes

Latin future funk is the warmest of all future funk. This is partially because us Latins (your humble reviewer is named Sebastião, after all) are the warmest people in all the world. It stands to reason then, that vinyl, music’s warmest medium — is a natural fit for for the funkiest of all music. I first discovered Jesse Casettes on the Eternal Vibes compilation, which is a compilation full of warm, Latin sounds and Jesse Cassette’s contribution to it was my absolute favorite. I’ve been a huge fan of their work ever since.

Kween Pepsi is a masterwork that toys with a good speaker’s treble response like nothing else I’ve listened to. Only a few future funk artists can reach this level of playfulness on the high end — Night Tempo, Cosmic Bae, and a few others. But almost none sound quite as fun as Jesse Casettes, and none sound as polished and well-mixed. Kween Pepsi hits you with banger after banger, and the Seikomart tape was already a commercial success. It stands to reason that Kween Pepsi could get a nice master and fly off the market, giving audiophiles another grail on vinyl that stands out as one of the genre’s finest albums of the decade. Bringing it into the next with a new physical seems like a great idea. What DJ wouldn’t want to drop the needle on a track as well arranged and layered Osaka Fall Season Nights and let their system shine?

Miss — Flammy

Real Love beat me to the punch very recently by featuring Flammy on their channel, but Flammy is still an under-appreciated artist that I’m hoping to see 2020 herald big things for. I’ve always appreciated their deeply creative sampling, and their mixes consistently sound rich and full on every hi-fi system I play them on. I happened upon “I bet my girlfriend is chinese and aesthetic” (a title very real for me as my girlfriend is both chinese and aesthetic) back in early 2018 and was instantly impressed on how it made my KEFs absolutely werk in spite of my stodgy old British floor-standers never receiving vaportrap/future hop with very much vigor.

After kind of losing track in the waves of new releases over the past year or so, I re-discovered their work this month after Miss released, and their mixes, creative micro-sampling (City Hunter, anyone?) have been just as rich and rewarding to both my system and my ears as on that initial listen. As I said earlier, I genuinely think this Lille, France-based artist is on the verge of a blowup, and when that happens I want to make sure my childish ranting of “I want this on vinyl!” is heard sufficiently by whatever label steps up to the plate. My suggestion: maybe get this EP on a 10-inch.

#future funk #vinyl

2 notes · View notes

learnerteachergentleman · 4 years

Text

Pathfinder Second Edition: Introductory Character Guide

If you’re reading this, there’s a decent chance you’re at least familiar with Dungeons and Dragons. Pathfinder is a game system which grew out of D&D 3.5E, and emphasises breadth and depth of choice in character building, and diversity and tactical complexity in encounters. PF1 in particular is a min-maxer’s paradise, with immensely powerful feat chains and functionally invincible high level spellcasters.

PF2 is a humbler creature, with very tightly refined math. Combined with it’s three-action system and +/-10 system towards crits and crit fails, it makes for a wonderfully balanced (and thus hard to break) system.

But it can still be a daunting system to jump into. Character creation has multiple steps, each of them meaningful. Here’s a quick summation of the ancestries and classes you’ll be choosing from.

Ancestries

Dwarves

Strengths: CON and WIS boosts, good ancestral HP, and their feat selections all combine to make them very sturdy and resilient. Dwarves are typically lawful, honorable and reliable

Weaknesses: CHA penalty means they’re usually not the make sociable of folks. Their movement speed is also the slowest of all ancestries.

Elves

Strengths: DEX and INT boosts, plus access to variable skills, and the best movement speeds make elves highly versatile in and out of combat. Elves tend to be a little aloof and detached as a consequence of their vast lifespans and experiences.

Weaknesses: CON penalty and low ancestral HP makes them very fragile.

Gnomes

Strengths: CON and CHA boosts combine with their feats to make gnomes the most innately magical folk. They’re curious and friendly and constantly seeking new experiences so they don’t die from boredom (literally).

Weaknesses: STR penalty, and they’re seldom taken very seriously.

Goblins

Strengths: DEX and CHA boosts. They have an eclectic selection of feats which can provide bonuses to stealth, setting things on fire, annoying enemies, and using/eating garbage.

Weaknesses: WIS penalty, and thus a tendency towards impulsiveness. They’re still seen as vermin in most parts of the world, so expect racism.

Halflings

Strengths: DEX and WIS boosts, plus their feat options enabling stealth and luck bonuses make halflings surprisingly hardy. They’re great at flying under the radar and getting ignored.

Weaknesses: STR penalty, and like gnomes, being a small and humble race means they’re not automatically taken seriously.

Humans

Strengths: Hugely versatile, with their choice of two ability boosts and feats that enable them to go in any direction. Humans encompass the full spectrum of possibilities.

Weaknesses: Humans don’t really have many weaknesses- their adaptability ensures that- but they also don’t have special strengths they can lean into.

Classes

Alchemists

Why play an Alchemist? Do you want to play with fire? Plan ahead and outwit and outplay your foes? Throw bombs, do drugs, and poison your enemies? Alchemy might be the path for you.

Core Mechanic: Alchemy. Alchemists can make a large supply of alchemical items daily for free.

Subclass Options: Bombers specialise in the use of bombs to damage and debuff foes. Chirugeons specialise in healing potions to cure wounds and remove poisons and diseases. Mutagenists specialise in augmenting abilities through the use of mutagens.

Strengths: A good support class, since they can alter their loadouts daily to meet the needs of the party and the situation. They bring good healing and lots of little debuffing conditions to the fight.

Weaknesses: Their proficiencies and damage don’t keep up in the endgame, and they need a lot of system mastery to play well. They’re also dependent on having both a good Intelligence for their crafting and a good Dexterity for their throwing arm.

Barbarians

Why play a Barbarian? Do you want to hit stuff really hard? Do you like shrugging off damage? Do you have deep seated anger management issues? Do you want to be in the thick of every problem, and use violence as the answer? Barbarian might be the solution to your problems (or therapy).

Core Mechanic: Rage. While raging, Barbarians hit harder, but are easier to hit themselves.

Subclass Options: Animal Instinct enables one to transform to fight with fang and claw. Dragon Instinct brings elemental damage, and eventually breath weapons and wings. Fury Instinct is just pure anger. Giant Instinct grants you an oversized weapon to do more damage than any other build in the game at cost of even worse defenses. Spirit Instinct makes you better at fighting ghosts and spooky things.

Strengths: A powerful frontline striker and tank, with great damage output and plentiful HP. They can also be pretty mobile, and chase foes down with ease.

Weaknesses: Mediocre Reflex saves and lowered AC means they get hit very hard.

Bards

Why play a Bard? Do you have an innate desire to perform and inspire your friends? Do you want to know lots of weird and useless trivia, random lyrics, and tricks to befuddle the mind and heart? Do you have a deep seated urge to fornicate with dragons (pls no)? If so, Bard might be the class for you.

Core Mechanic: Compositions. Bards get some really powerful supporting abilities which can boost the entire team with ease. Occult Spellcasting (spontaneous). Bards have a strong selection of debuffing and illusion spells.

Subclass Options: The Engima muse grants you ALL the knowledge. The Maestro muse drives you to be the ultimate performer. The Polymath muse enables you to apply your performance skills in all kinds of different situations.

Strengths: Easily the most powerful support class in the game. Their composition cantrips put many actual buffing spells (which they also have) to shame. Strong Perception and Will saves keep them alert and sane.

Weaknesses: A little fragile, and have really poor damage output.

Champions

Why play a Champion? Do you want to protect your friends and stand your ground? Do you want some healing magic with your martial might? Do you want to SMITE EVIL? Have you heard of our inheritor and savior Iomedae? If so, maybe you want to be a Champion.

Core Mechanic: Champion Causes grant them unique defensive reactions which protect allies from damage, and holy focus spells for healing and weakening foes. Divine Allies grant either boost to one’s weapon, one’s shield, or come as a mount.

Subclass Options: Paladins are Lawful Good, and are here to put evil into the ground by beating it the hell to death when it goes after their allies. Redeemers are Neutral Good, and seek more peaceful outcomes by weakening foes or preventing damage completely. Liberators are Chaotic Good, and keep their allies moving and away from threats and bondage.

Strengths: The premium tanking class, with the highest AC proficiencies, their ally protecting reactions, damage reduction on armour, and their healing Lay on Hands.

Weaknesses: Their damage output is decidedly mediocre for a martial class.

Clerics

Why play a Cleric? Do you want to channel holy magic to heal your friends and weaken your foes? Do you want to spread the good word and will of your god? Do you want to wreck evil and praise the sun? If so, Cleric might be the class for you.

Core Mechanic: Divine Font gives Clerics a bunch of extra healing spells. Divine Spellcasting (prepared). A good supply of supporting and buffing spells, and heaps of things to really punish evil.

Subclass Options: Cloistered Clerics are fully fledged casters with extra focus spells. Warpriests trade off a little casting power for weapons and armour.

Strengths: The divine spell list punches well above curve when fighting foes opposed to your alignment. Cleric healing is very powerful and efficient in combat.

Weaknesses: Over-reliance on alignment based spells leaves them in a bad place when dealing with neutral threats. The Divine list lacks a lot of overall power.

Druids

Why play a Druid? Do you want to run wild with a 6-foot wolverine animal companion? Do you want to turn into a dragon and unleash hell? Do you want absolute command over the elements? If so, Druid might be the class for you.

Core Mechanic: Primal Spellcasting (prepared). Lots of good blasting and support spells.

Subclass Options: Animal for those who want an animal companion. Leaf for those who want a familiar and extra healing. Storm for those who want more firepower. Wild for transformation specialists.

Strengths: Versatile to build, good defenses and proficiencies for a caster, plenty of quality blasting.

Weaknesses: Limited control options. Summoning is quite weak.

Fighters

Why play a Fighter? Do you want to cleave foes in twain with big-ass weapons? Dance across the battlefield with a sword in each hand? Snipe foes from afar? Hold the line with endless shield blocks or parries? Crit everything you can see? If so, Fighter might be the class for you.

Core Mechanic: Fighters don’t really have a core mechanic like other classes. Instead, they’re a full proficiency rank ahead of every other martial, and get flexible extra class feats, making them highly consistent, powerful and adaptable.

Subclass Options: Likewise, Fighters don’t have subclasses. They’re differentiated by their feat selections (broadly speaking, one-handed fencers, two-handed brutes, dual-wielders, sword-and-board defenders, archers, and other niche options).

Strengths: Numerically superior to every other class in terms of offenses. Only Giant Barbarians beat them for damage output (but are way weaker defensively). Only Champions beat them for armour rating (but fall well behind on offense). Hugely flexible in build and tactics. Good Perception.

Weaknesses: Not many. Will saves are average, and one can’t do everything, but otherwise Fighters are overall very good.

Monks

Why play a Monk? Do you want to beat everything to death with your bare hands? Run faster, jump higher and dodge better than everyone else? Use moves right out of an old-school wire-fun martial arts film? Name every one of your attacks like it’s a shounen anime? If so, Monk might be the class for you.

Core Mechanic: Stances. Monks can learn a variety of stances which grant access to special unarmed attacks and other bonuses. Ki. Monks can learn to channel mystical magic known as Ki for extra mobility or special attacks.

Subclass Options: Like Fighters, Monks don’t have subclasses, instead being defined by their feat choices. Crane, Dragon, Mountain, Embers, Tiger, Wolf, Ironblood and Tangled Forest stances each offer different playstyles, as does the selection of various Ki feats.

Strengths: Highly mobile. Excellent AC (only the Champion can get better), good HP and the best saving throw proficiencies all combine to make them very tough to kill.

Weaknesses: Damage output isn’t the best.

Rangers

Why play a Ranger? Do you want to snipe foes from hundreds of feet away? Unleash flurries of arrows or swift attacks? Go into battle astride a feral direwolf? Be able to find (and kill) anyone or anything that pisses you off? If so, Ranger might be the class for you.

Core Mechanic: Hunt Prey. Rangers focus on a single target at a time, gaining benefits against their selected prey.

Subclass Options: Flurry Edge enables Rangers to make multiple attacks with a great reduced downside compared to everyone else. Outwit Edge makes them superior trackers and better defensively. Precision Edge grants them more power on their first hit.

Strengths: Excellent single target damage. Decent defenses. Better archery range than anyone else. The only class which can actually make crossbows viable.

Weaknesses: Awkward against swarms of enemies, since they need to keep spending actions to shift their Hunted Prey.

Rogues

Why play a Rogue? Do you like stabbing people in the back and watching them bleed out helplessly?Do you like stealing from anyone and anything you can? Do you like your character being really edgy and good at everything? If so, Rogue might be the class for you (and prison might be the place).

Core Mechanic: Sneak Attack. Rogues get more damage against flat-footed targets while using precise weapons.

Subclass Options: Ruffians are tankier and better with brutal bludgeoning weapons. Scoundrels are experts at deceiving and surprising their foes. Thieves are light and lethal with finesse weapons.

Strengths: Twice as many skills and skill feats as any other class means that Rogues can literally be good at everything. Sneak Attack keeps them competitive with other martial classes for damage.

Weaknesses: A little fragile compared to the other martial classes.

Sorcerers

Why play a Sorcerer? Do you like being naturally gifted at stuff? Do you like the feeling of power at your fingertips and your enemies beneath your boot? Do you want to make stuff go BOOM? Did your granny engage in appropriate relations with magical beings? If so, Sorcerer might be the class for you.

Core Mechanic: Bloodline and blood magic. Sorcerers get focus spells and extra powers depending when they cast spells. Spontaneous spellcasting. Sorcerers to choose if they’re Arcane, Divine, Occult or Primal spellcasters.

Subclass Options: Aberrant and Hag bloodlines for Occult magic. Angelic, Diabolic, Demonic or Undead bloodlines for Divine magic. Elemental and Fey bloodlines for Primal magic. Draconic and Imperial bloodlines for Arcane magic.

Strengths: Solid feats chasis enables particular niches other spellcasters can’t access (like Divine counterspells or Arcane healing). Extra spell slots keeps them going longer and harder than other casters.

Weaknesses: No armour, poor AC, and weak saves means that Sorcerers earn their designation as ‘squishies’.

Wizards

Why play a Wizard? Do you like planning ahead for exact eventualities? Do you like delving deep into lore and legend to truly understand your art? Are you a massive nerd (if you’re reading this, probably)? Do you think writing an entire thesis is the best way to demonstrate one’s mastery of a subject? If so, Wizard might be the class for you.

Core Mechanic: School specialisation. Wizards choose a school of magic and get extra abilties and spell slots for that school only. Arcane spellcasting (prepared). Arcane magic gives wizards a wide breadth of tactical options, with buffs, debuffs, blasting, controlling, and heaps of niche silver bullets for opposing magic. Everything excepting healing, basically.

Subclass Options: The Improved Familiar Attunement thesis grants the wizard a useful familiar. The Metamagical Experimentation thesis grants the wizard additional metamagic options for altering their spells. The Spell Blending thesis enables wizards to trade out weaker slots for a few stronger ones. The Spell Substitution thesis enables the wizard to swap out their prepared spells, keeping them adaptable to new information.

Strengths: Solid feats chasis enables them to get the most out of their abundant supply of spells, with metamagics and other spell augmenting options. The arcane list is powerful and deep.

Weaknesses: No armour? Check. Poor AC? Check. Weak saves? Check. Yep, Wizards are squishy.

#pathfinder

2 notes · View notes

allthefilmsiveseenforfree · 6 years

Text

Goosebumps 2: Haunted Halloween

I had a hard weekend. Wife and I foster dogs through our local animal shelter, and we have had the sweetest, most loving hospice foster for the past week. But the last couple days were really difficult for her, and it was clear her time was growing short, so we made the decision and brought her in to put her to sleep today. After we dried our tears and pulled ourselves together, we both needed a distraction so she did some work while I, obviously, went to the movies. But I wanted something that I could pretty much guarantee wouldn’t make me cry, and if you have been reading my reviews you know that’s uh...more difficult than you would think. This is a roundabout way of saying I’d like to take a minute so just sit right there, I’ll tell you how I became the only solo adult in a Sunday night showing of Goosebumps 2.

I didn’t hate the first Goosebumps, I really didn’t. I like kooky and paternal Jack Black as R.L. Stine, the basic premise is pretty sound, and there’s some very PG-friendly spookiness wrapped up in a blaring technicolor CGI package. I mean, I see the movies for free so...I have a pretty generous spirit. That being said, this sequel felt a little more gimmicky, a little less interesting, and a lot more money-motivated than its predecessor so I was verrrry skeptical. Does this one even live up to the mediocrity of the original? Well...

Meh? It feels a lot like the clearance aisle of CVS on November 1st. There’s some decent Halloween treats in there, but they feel a little bit stale and very cheap. The basic plot is pretty perfunctory: Sonny (Jeremy Ray Taylor, aka Ben from IT) and his friend Sam (Caleel Harris) find R.L. Stine’s first novel locked away in his old house, so they open it and unleash hell on earth which is how it’s supposed to work based on the internal rules of the first movie Slappy, the ventriloquist dummy. THEN they have to say some Latin-y phrase and Slappy comes to life! He wants to create his own family, and to do that he’s going to bring all of Halloween to life. Because in this movie, Halloween is made up of material objects and not an intangible concept like a unit or time or a cultural ritual made up of certain performative practices.

Some thoughts:

The film’s weakness is just a general lack of thought or care about the rules of its own world-building. Nothing feels very high stakes because it’s all so...silly. Call me old-fashioned, but I grew up on classic Disney. Gaston was a rapey abuser, Aladdin faced off against a gigantic fire snake, and Mufasa DIED ffs. I want my peril to feel, you know, fucking perilous! Here, the most fraught thing that happens is when Slappy turns the kids’ mom into his own mom by making her look like a ventriloquist dummy. It just doesn’t have the same punch.

See also: jokes that make no sense. A punch line at the end of a classroom scene has a girl who’s been electrified as a result of a science experiment gone wrong. She has the crazy bushed out hair and smoke marks all over her face and clothes, and she cries, “Today is picture day!” Um. Excuse the fuck out of me, but I can literally see a girl with her face painted like a tiger right behind you, and there are other students in the classroom wearing costumes. For the purposes of your lazy ass joke, you want to act like picture day is on actual Halloween? Also, writers, you’re telling me there’s not a better laugh line for that scene? CHICANEROUS and DEPLORABLE.

See also: You have an antagonist that you know can teleport. Your solution is to put him in a suitcase with chains around it and drop it in a lake. Do you...like are you guys even trying? I’m so embarrassed for you.

See also: a big turning point in the movie is the kids figuring out that the plot of the book they found is coming to life. But if the novel is unpublished and has been locked up for 30 years, how does Wikipedia know what the plot is? At this point it feels like you’re doing this shit to me on purpose.

See also: How did that Grandma not wake up????? You make a big show of the fact that she almost woke up when Sam grabbed some candy from a bowl, but then plates are flying, gummy bears are attacking, and nothing?

Ok, now for some actually not so terrible things. I still love Jack Black as Stine, but he gets far too little screen time here because he was busy filming the far superior The House With a Clock in Its Walls.

This is the second movie I’ve seen this week where a girl goes to a dance, sees the boy she’s dating kiss someone else, and runs away crying. That boy is no longer relevant or involved in her life after that, because instead she goes to focus on her family and her own goals. Maybe my favorite part of the ripple effect that #MeToo and Time’s Up is creating is that movies - even kids’ movies - are making it clear that girls don’t have to tolerate shitty boys being shitty. That boyfriends aren’t everything, and having a boyfriend isn’t the necessary default setting of adolescence. And most of all, we no longer have to devote any screen time to a crying girl saying “I was so stupid!” or “Why doesn’t he like me?” because we’re just now getting to a point where we can accept that girls deserve better than the bare fucking minimum of human decency masquerading as A Good Boyfriend.

I did dig the actual R.L. Stine cameo as he was giving the science award in the end.

I will say, sometimes in the middle of mediocrity, one really dumb funny thing will appear out of nowhere, and for me it was a super dumb pumpkin that was carved really clumsily, and when he came to life, he said “Hi! My name is Pumpkin. I’m round!” I’m still laughing about this, and I’m not sure why.

The performances are fine, and the message is fine, and seeing all the trappings of Halloween coming to life and rampaging on a town is fine. It’s all fine. However, if you have to choose a silly, spooky kids’ movie starring Jack Black to attend this Halloween season, you’re much better off choosing The House With a Clock in Its Walls.

#118in2018 #goosebumps 2 #goosebumps 2 haunted halloween #goosebumps 2 review #jack black #jeremy ray taylor #caleel harris #rl stine #goosebumps #movie reviews #film reviews

18 notes · View notes

queen-scribbles · 5 years

Text

Stars Rewritten AU

Here we go, headcanons for the Adi-verse where Heodan survives. Everything’s behind the cut, since it won’t let me do one in the middle of bullet points(BOO) and this baby is long.

They’re originally just planning to stick together until they reach Gilded Vale and go their own ways, but with how messed up everything is there, that plan gets scrapped very quickly. It’s sketchy and they don’t know who to trust, so they wind up sticking together “just a little longer”.

Only thing that changes about joining up with Aloth is the fight with the drunks is over faster, and there being three of them means there is bed sharing bc they can’t afford a room with a bed for each of them. Adi and Heodan share bc this is a wish fulfillment au they know each other better.

When the Watcher dream starts, she kicks him in the chest twice and narrowly misses clocking him in the jaw. He, of course, tries to wake her up and can’t. She snaps awake just as he’s really starting to worry and feels v guilty for hurting him(especially since he still has a healing injury from the Cilant Lîs ruins), which he brushes off, promising it’s not that bad.

After Adi “talks” to Caldera and has her advice to head for Caed Nua, she asks Heodan if he wants to come with her(promising not to punch him any more in her sleep, which makes him laugh). He agrees, since he doesn’t have any reason to stick around Gilded Vale--no business prospects, unfriendly neighbors, she’s much better company, take your pick--and Caed Nua sounds like a place where they might find the fresh start they’re looking for.

Of course things don’t turn out all sunshine and roses, bc why should life be easy? After Maerwald’s dead and the Steward declares Adi the Lady of Caed Nua, she offers to let Heodan set up shop at the keep, so he doesn’t have to wander so much. Things need to be fixed up first, obviously, but he’d be safer here and knows the lady in charge.

He accepts. This is promising location, she has a good point about knowing the person in charge(knows she’ll be fair).... It’s actually going to be a pretty advantageous arrangement, once the keep’s fixed up some.

While they’re waiting to get things fixed up, however, he also accepts when she asks if he wants to come to Defiance Bay with her. He doesn’t have anything better to do, and getting an idea of how things stand in the city is a good idea.

That’s how it starts; him going pretty much everywhere with her. It’s not really a conscious choice on either of their parts so much as Adi goes “Hey, Heodan, wanna come do ____ with me?” and he says “Sure”. They enjoy each other’s company and one more person to watch your back never hurts, and he’d be underfoot for the work crews if he stayed at the keep..... Why would there be any deeper meaning than that?

Before a month is out, it’s just assumed he’s going with her. The threat of bandits and other dangers means security-enhancing repairs come first, so the craft hall’s construction keeps getting bumped. “Heodan, wanna come with me?” has turned into “We’re leaving in the morning” with the unspoken expectation he’s coming. He never corrects her. He likes going along.

It’s around Teir Nowneth/Brackenbury (my usual order is Teir Nowneth -> Brackenbury ->Dyrford, it’s like how I always do the treaties in the same order for DAO) that the two of them start paying above average care to each other in combat, and roughly the first jaunt to Stalwart(2-2.5 months in) that they start prioritizing threats to each other over other opponents. They don’t notice what they’re doing until Edér makes a joke about it.

Dyrford + associated quests came between the halves of tWM, so there are some latent--if unacknowledged--feelings beyond Adi’s (ever-growing) crush when she slips jumping the gap for the back way into Clîaban Rilag and Heodan wrenches his shoulder really bad catching her so she doesn’t plummet to her death.

He just reacted, and that 18(to 21, depending on resting bonus) dex meant he was fast enough to catch her and he’s glad and he doesn’t care that his shoulder hurts because she’s okay and no, Edér, stop grinning like that, it doesn’t Mean Anything, that’s ridiculous. When Adi tries to apologize, he waves it off as paying her back for helping him that first escape into the ruins after the Glanfathan attack.

Sagani’s the one who does the adventure that rewards with the Lovers’ Light rings, and she kinda tosses them to Adi with a smirk and a “Here Watcher, you can find a use for these, right?” *wink wink nudge nudge* It takes a bit of studying to figure out how they work, but once she does, Adi wears the copper one and gives the silver one to Heodan. She does explain to him that they’re enchanted so the wearers can tell if the other is hurt and give some of their essence by squeezing the jewel to help if they want. She’s mostly thinking so she can help him if--gods forbid--he gets hurt in a fight. He’s more front line than she is, after all. Even if he is usually backstabbing people as opposed to Edér’s facing people head-on. (So I’m basically headcanoning that they work like Vox Machina’s “medic alert” necklaces or whatever they called them that they got after Tary joined, with the option to sacrifice your health to stabilize the other person)

Heodan’s not as adventurous as Adi but keeps tagging along on these trips of hers. “I’d be bored and underfoot back at the keep with nothing to do” is his explanation. “Once there’s a building for my shop and I have that to stock and take care of, then you’ll lose me.” (it’s almost a running joke between them by this point--how one or the other keeps finding excuses to prolong his adventuring. Neither really dwells on why they keep doing that.)

She actually ‘loses’ him sooner than that. On the way back from Dyrford Adi decides to (finally) investigate Fyrga’s vision, figuring she can then report back to Fyrga and Lady Webb in one trip. Whatever she was thinking this vision implied, a temperamental, possessive dragon is so not what she was expecting to find.

Despite Adi’s best efforts to defuse the situation and just walk away, the dragon’s not having it and attacks them. They’re actually doing pretty well handling the dragon and its xaurip underlings(first time I’ve ever been over-leveled for that fight lol), but the last remaining xaurip gets in a really good hit on Adi before she kills it via grimoire slam. Thanks to both her cry of pain and how much damage she’s doing, the dragon zeroes in on her.

She has pretty good reflexes, but you can’t dodge and cast at the same time, and ofc she has blood from the xaurip’s parting blow running down her arm, so it’s only a matter of time before it catches her. (She’s largely worried that catching her will also catch Aloth, since they’re both hanging back in roughly the same area, and she really doesn’t want one of her friends getting hurt bc of proximity to her)

Between seeing her predicament and feeling through the ring how badly she’s hurt, Heodan takes a pair of very big risks right together: squeezes the jewel in his ring to heal Adi(he’s standing closer to the paladin, besides, with an enemy that can fly, best to keep those who do ranged damage in good shape, right?) and rakes his stiletto along as much of the dragon’s tail and leg as he can reach, hoping to distract it.

Both of these work a little too well; leaving him hurt and dazed when the dragon wheels around and takes a swipe at him. He doesn’t move fast enough to dodge completely, and the dragon’s claws catch his shoulder and the side of his neck and rake in almost to the center of his chest (how the claws didn’t catch an artery and just kill him outright is a miracle straight from the gods and me *cough*).

Now truly freaked out as she watches him just crumple, bc she knows what he did, Adi pops off a Call to Slumber spell(since Unconscious is not one of Cail’s resistances, suck it, loser). This gives them a serious edge bc now the dragon is unconscious and on the ground where everyone can reach. They finish it off rather quickly(Pallegina gets the killing blow), and then can worry about the unconscious and badly bleeding rogue.

Adi tries to help by squeezing the jewel in her ring right back, but apparently the enchantment needs time to “recharge” between activations and it doesn’t do anything. So they have to patch Heodan up through conventional methods as best they can and Adi decides they should take him to Caed Nua since she has a couple very skilled healers on staff in case any of the workmen get hurt while making repairs. Pallegina cautions that between the extent of his injuries and the... mediocre at best healing skills among their group, he might not even make it that far.

Cue Adi being worried sick and checking on him every half hour max the entire day-ish it takes to reach Caed Nua. She doesn’t sleep the night they have to make camp, instead sitting up and watching Heodan breathe to make sure he keeps doing it. Every so often she squeezes the jewel in her ring, but it never does anything(she starts wondering how long the damn thing needs to recharge[answer: a day, because if I’m giving her a hella powerful magical artifact, there has to be some kind of catch to it]).

Despite Pallegina’s concerns, Heodan does hang on long enough to get him to the more skillful healers at Caed Nua. (In a twist of something like irony, the work crews were just getting ready to start building the craft hall) Adi hangs around anxiously in the corner while the healers get him properly patched up. They’re honest with her--he’s not in good shape (aside from the shredding damage and blood loss from the dragon’s claws, the initial blow broke his collarbone and a couple ribs), it could go either way, they can’t make any promises.

Between worrying so much she can barely breathe and feeling guilty he got hurt protecting her, Adi wants to stay at Caed Nua until she knows Heodan is out of the woods. But it’s not to be.The second night at Caed Nua, sleeping on the floor of his room(basically passed out from exhaustion; she hasn’t slept since the dragon fight), she dreams about the Eyeless.

This is clearly a major and pressing threat. So, reluctant as she is to leave with Heodan in such bad shape, she gives her friends another couple days to rest and get together supplies they’ll need before they head out.

She’s personally hoping that Heodan will at least wake up--even if just for a few seconds--in the interim, but it’s not to be. So she makes the healers swear to send word if there are any major changes, good or bad, before setting off back to Stalwart.

Adi and Co spend the next two weeks running all over the White March dealing with first some smaller scale problems--like the Battery cannons--then the Iron Flail, and then the Eyeless. No news comes Caed Nua the entire time. Not sure if this is good or bad, she books it back home after finishing in Stalwart.

Heodan’s actually awake when they get there, has been for about a week. The healers wrote her but something must have happened to the letter bc she never got it.

Adi gives him the most enthusiastic hug she dares considering, y’know, broken collarbone and all. She’s relieved beyond words that he pulled through. She decides to hang around the keep for a couple weeks, surprising absolutely no one, spend some time with him until she’s 100% sure he’s out of the woods. Once the craft hall is finished, she helps with getting that all stocked and ready for when Heodan’s recovered enough to start running it.

Finally, though, she has to go back to work. Starts with Kana’s quest and probably the Battle of Yenwood, maybe Raedric round 2, then it’s just hunting down bounties,short trips that give her an excuse to come back and make sure he’s still alright. (By this point, Edér and Sagani have money on which will come first; Adi confessing her feelings or Heodan figuring them out bc the girl is not as subtle as she thinks she is) But Adi definitely knows the Leaden Key are up to something sketchy by now, and she can’t leave things alone forever. So she heads for Defiance Bay to tell Lady Webb what she found in Clîaban Rilag. While she’s there, she hears a rumor about a group of bandits planning to attack Caed Nua, so puts the animancy hearing on hold to go back and deal with that. The fight is actually rather grueling--this group was better prepared than she expected--so they take a couple days to rest before heading back to the city. (This is where Let It Snow would fit)

Between nerve damage and the way his collarbone heals, Heodan’s arm doesn’t “heal” all the way; stays kind of stiff, which puts an end to his adventuring. He’s no good in a fight anymore, and with the craft hall done, it’s better he focus on that anyway. Being a merchant is what he came to the Dyrwood for in the first place, after all. He’s happy for Adi(and her friends) to be his primary customer(s), but this is for the best.

Adi drops in to say hi every time she’s back at Caed Nua, without fail. This starts during the end of the bounty hunting spree that he’s recovered enough she’s visiting him in His Shop rather than the infirmary, and after that it’s always the first place she goes when they come back. Still doesn’t say anything about her feelings. Life is too crazy right now, she doesn’t feel like it would be fair to him. (also, there’s a small part of her that’s afraid of losing their friendship, him being the oasis of normal in the craziness of her life.And, look, either way things are going to change, whether he likes her or not. It would just be different kinds of awkward and she doesn’t need that in her life right now)

She finally caves, though, after the animancy hearings and the riots. She stops by the keep “To tell the Steward what happened before rumor get there” (Sure, Adi. The Steward’s the one whose emotions you’re worried about). She’s never quite sure why, later; maybe it’s just finally hit the breaking point of being too much to keep secret, maybe she was inspired by Aloth’s confession to be more honest, who knows? Whatever the reason, she feels compelled to tell Heodan before she follows Thaos to Twin Elms. Just completely spills her guts.

Turns out he knew, or at least suspected, months ago. Adi is a very heart on her sleeve, unsubtle person, it didn’t take a genius to figure out. Especially not with all that time Heodan had while he was recovering where all he could do was lay in bed and think. He didn’t say anything because he figured she had her reasons for keeping quiet and would tell him when she was ready. Also, the longer it took, the more he started to wonder if he’d read things wrong, which was another reason to keep his mouth shut; he didn’t want to make things awkward because he also valued her friendship.

But, you know, he does like her back. She’s kind and passionate and curious and a whole laundry list of other admirable qualities. This prompts Adi to reel off part of the list of reasons she likes him, and they agree to talk more after she gets back from stopping Thaos. There’s a goodbye kiss and then she’s off to save the world.

She’s uncharacteristically impatient to get through Twin Elms, a place she would normally want to spend hours exploring and talking to people and learning all they’re willing to share. Between her rush and her even better than usual mood, Kana actually asks her what’s going on when they settle in for the night at the Celestial Sapling. She’s only too happy to spill the beans. The Watcher dreams are really bad that night, she hardly gets any sleep, but she’s still in a relatively good mood come morning

Is actually really shaken by the revelation her Awakening is permanent. She puts on a brave face talking to Aloth about it, but she was really, really hoping there was a way to reverse this, whether convincing Thaos to undo it or some Engwithan ritual or whatever. Part of her wonders if it’s smart to stat a romantic relationship with someone knowing this is permanent. She saw what happened to Maerwald; she’s uncomfortable with the chance of making someone who loves her watch that happen to her. (When she admits that to Kana, he points out Maerwald had multiple personalities Awakened, some in direct conflict with each other, she only has one)

They win, they go home(Adi kept her promise to Galawain), Heodan is very relieved to see her. They’d been hearing rumors she’d as good as died and other things to that effect. There’s a very long hug involved, which only ends bc he’s kneeling on stone floor and that’s not very comfortable. :P Rather than join the rest of her friends and Caed Nua’s staff in celebrating her success, the two of them find somewhere quiet they can talk about Them.

There are, of course, concerns; her Watcher-ness and Awakened soul are the first ones Adi brings up, but there’s also difference in social standing, lifespan disparity between folk and orlans, the prejudice they’ll deal with given that it’s not just a mixed relationship but she’s an orlan. In the Dyrwood. Edér might be terribly bad, but, y’know, she’s been called ‘cat-fucker’ enough times she wants Heodan prepared if he really want this, wants her.

(he does)

In the end, they acknowledge there will be challenges, but decide they can handle anything together. They’ve always made a good team, if it took a dragon to change their dynamic before, what chance does petty gossip and name calling have?

They share a kiss--a good kiss--with the sunset, enjoy their moment of peace and quiet by cuddling and looking at the stars etc etc happy ending there ya go. ;)

The Deadfire headcanons will be a separate post bc boy HOWDY did this wind up longer than I expected.

#queens fic #adela 2.0 #heodan #stars rewritten au #(and yes i'm calling it fic it's like 3k words)#heodi #otp: here in my heart

6 notes · View notes

tearlessrain · 6 years

Text

okay, I have a spare afternoon and a freshly made batch of guacamole I need to hide from my roommate because I only had one avocado and that is not enough to share. time to ruin it by watching Maximum Ride.

aw sad bird child. okay she looks nothing like the description in the book but she is adorable. why does the old guy look so much like Sad Island Luke.

listen I’m gonna be honest and say I barely remember the plot of the books and have no idea who anyone is. I remember who Ari is and like three of the bird children

why would the nicknames they (if I remember right, see above) gave eachother be on their official forms

oh god down we go into Voiceover Exposition Hell

... that is not a tomboyish fourteen year old girl.

... that is NOT a fourteen year old boy

seriously she looks like liv from izombie

um. did his wings get cut off. why is his back like that. where are her wings. why are they acting like it’s a big secret nobody is watching this who didn’t read the books we’re just here to see mediocre cgi wings. you have one job, movie. don’t screw up your one redeeming quality.

omg small child is adorable. he’s also the best actor by far for some reason. not that the bar was high but like this kid can actually act

why are they like. going out if their way to make max as unlikable as possible. I dislike her almost as much as light turner.

description of iggy I recall reading: pale, light-haired, fine-boned, somewhat calm and serious

description of max I recall reading: dark-haired, relatively sturdy build for a bird child, blunt and outspoken

so why am I seeing literally the exact opposite????

I just really, really hate her she hasn’t displayed a single redeeming quality or resemblance to her book counterpart

fifteen minutes in and still no sign of wings aka the only thing that would make this movie even slightly watchable

“I know you think max doesn’t care, but she does” are you sure about that fang because we’re almost a fifth of the way into the movie of which she’s the titular character and she has yet to display even one single emotion

wait that’s iggy sorry they both have the generic white boy haircut and dress similar

why did they give iggy all of max AND fang’s distinctive/interesting traits

less than one minute later: “you’re wrong to think max doesn’t care, she does” okay so like... you know the part of editing where you go through and look for superfluous lines and remove them? I THINK THEY FORGOT TO DO THAT.

god it’s like listening to a bioware dialogue tree

the only plot this movie has had so far is “nobody can go outside and everyone has to keep quiet” and now you all come pouring out of the house and start yelling the instant something suspicious happens. okay.

WINGS. FINALLY.

it wasn’t even a dramatic reveal though it was literally just schwoop there she goes

oh that’s some hobbit-level cgi oh dear

you know if you don’t have the budget to make decent wings and show them more often you shouldn’t be making a maximum ride movie that’s the only reason anyone is even here. seriously, one job.

oh my god ari I’m dying what did they do to his character design holy shit that’s bad

wHY ARE THESE CHILDREN BETTER ACTORS THAN THEIR OLDER COUNTERPARTS

WHAT IS THIS 80S MUSIC VIDEO OVERLAY EDITING

lasto beth nin, tolo dan nan galad

her face is just slowly rotating closer please stop.

i don’t want it.

what did that accomplish

aaand max continues to be a passenger in her own movie while fang and iggy take all the initiative

such dramatic. very slo mo. wow.

I love how they were so confident in their writing ability that they thought they could made the wings an afterthought

paul ari you is a wirwulf

I’m sorry nobody is going to get that it’s a mystery science theater reference

okay know what we should just rename the movie “Iggy” because he’s literally the only one who’s done anything useful or interesting

omg ari did the Shan Yu Punch out of the ground amazing

okay those wings are in no way sufficient to lift a child. even a child with hollow bones and whatever other bullshit physiology. they aren’t much longer than arms, you don’t even need to worry about being cumbersome when folded because they apparently just vanish magically so why not go for it. seriously, you had ONE JOB.

“stop.” thank you fang that’s just what I was about to say to her. but I think you meant “stop being irrational about this particular thing” whereas I meant “stop talking forever please and thank you”

you do NOT have enough chemistry or nuance for this much dialogue-free face closeup content, movie. when I said stop talking I meant stop the WHOLE scene containing the talking.

you know that “lemon stealing whores” porn intro that became a meme? that’s the quality of acting I’m looking at here. I’m not exaggerating that’s the vibe I get from her.

ah the ol’ “convenient nearby sexual assault” trope, hallmark of a writing team who forgot to give their protagonist a personality or redeeming qualities and are desperately trying to make up for it too late.

here comes fang in all his music video quality cgi slo mo glory to once again render max utterly superfluous

the funny thing is in any other movie I would kind of hate him but the baseline is max so he seems all right

it’s been 40 minutes and like three things have happened

okay I know normally in these liveblogs I’m yelling “show don’t tell” but that only works if what you’re showing has any internal consistency or meaning, if I just wanted to watch a bunch of disjointed scenes sometimes in slow motion I’d watch Koyaanisqatsi because at least they did it well. movie, please stop showing me things.

speaking of internal consistency they keep going wildly off model on the wings, they keep changing size/shape, now they look like they’re made of bendy wire how hard is it to google bird anatomy. YOU HAD. ONE. JOB.

how is she this bad at acting. I’m just looking on in awe now.

oh fang you’re a saint for putting up with her but you should have just left her in the house and taken over the movie

THE DIALOGUE IS SO BAD. “how’s you’re shoulder?” “fine......................................................... seriously, that’s all you’re going to say?” HE DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING

this is just such a bizarrely disjointed mess

no. no please don’t kiss I don’t want to see it and it definitely didn’t happen in the book

thank god

omg it was iggy, finding yet another way to save the movie

oh stop trying to make her out to be all heroic and shit now, you wasted half the movie making this bed now lie in it and make someone else the protagonist. how about iggy, who has a personality and does things and stopped the unnecessary romance subplot in its tracks. the boy’s a hero.

only 30 minutes to go I can do this

I’m not even mad about the bullshit science because every other component of the movie is somehow even worse

“you were his favorite” FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WHY SHE HAS NO REDEEMING QUALITIES

actually scratch that SHE HAS NO QUALITIES SHE’S JUST THERE

flashback to the comparatively talented child actors time again

what was the point of that flashback though, you’re just relaying the exact information fang just told everyone with no new contributions. I didn’t say show AND tell ffs.

I don’t even know what to say about ari he’s just generally hilarious

okay we get it the ringing is loud, you have established this into the ground now please stop

okay good nobody’s talking Imma just take my earbuds out until it’s over

finally

and they’re back in their weird, economically inefficient cage arrangement again. oh no.

seriously why are all the children better actors like where did they find these children. moreover where did they find such terrible adults.

here comes woverine’s obnoxious metalhead little brother again

OKAY, WE KNOW IT’S JEB, YOU CAN STOP BUILDING UP TO IT NOW

please stop talking I beg you this is painful

“I brought you to the house so you could develop physically and emotionally” and I assume they brought her back because that part of the experiment was a complete failure

okay listen the pacing and editing in this movie is awful. it’s so slow. they pause for at least three seconds between every single line of dialogue and it feels like they’re doing that because they’re trying to cover for the fact that they have absolutely nothing to say. this conversation could last half as long as it is. and the editing isn’t even interesting it’s just “headshot headshot fullbody distance shot from the side repeat” even if the actors were good this scene would be boring as all fuck.

[monotone exposition]

[more exposition]

[badly emoted emotional response]

there now imagine that repeated several times over and you’ve watched the entire, I shit you not, seven minute scene.

so she walked out of the room calmly and voluntarily right past ari and then we cut to ari aggressively wrestling her back in the economically inefficient cage room

why is he talking like batman

why are they all looking to her for leadership she’s shown zero leadership

MAKE IGGY THE LEADER MAKE IGGY THE LEADER DEPOSE MAX

bit late to establish a new villain with no precedent in your already disjointed movie isn’t it?

p l e a s e stop with these establishing shots

asdfkdgs she punched him in the chest and his head jerked to the side miscommunication

once again that went on longer than it needed to I think we’ve identified this movie’s fatal flaw

one of them

the other is max’s acting

and the ratio of wings to literally anything else

everything that’s occurred in this movie could have happened in thirty minutes tops

running running running

with no indication of how far apart they are or where they’re going of course so there’s absolutely no tension

wha

omg she’s still standing there fucks sake learn pacing

“so what now” “I dunno” LEADERSHIP

oh goodness oh no she has passed out I guess we’ll just have to make Iggy the leader such a shame

you know even in the book I remember liking Iggy a lot. he was a wildly different character from the little I recall but I do know I liked him.

they flashed back to the entire movie sped up and it took less than a minute which I think says a lot about how little happened in this movie

oh no enough romantic tension

S T O P

I was at least expecting a final dramatic group takeoff since they’re a bunch of BIRD PEOPLE standing on the edge of a CLIFF and all, but I guess the cgi budget ran out so we end with the bird children just standing on the ground in a group to dramatic music.

YOU

HAD

ONE

JOB

fuck this I feel cheated but at least it’s over.

#tearless liveblogs #a cautionary tale in budgeting both your time and cgi money wisely #this movie does neither

4 notes · View notes

hyacinthetic · 6 years

Text

end of the year writing meme 2k17

because i did this last year and i want to gloat over my truly embarrassing uptick in wordcount.

Total number of completed stories: 8 + 1 wip + 1 snippet. Total word count: 151,100, MOTHERFUCKER. Fandoms: voltron, persona 5, natsume’s book of friends.

Overall Thoughts

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you'd predicted? TOO MUCH VOLTRON. WAY, WAY TOO MUCH VOLTRON.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January? i have 40k of lotor/matt sitting on my hard drive. it's going to break 60k after edits. i don't want this life.

What's your own favorite of the year? the post-series winter cult au was my favorite bit of writing, but i am gonna clutch the pseudo-utena pastiche (disclaimer: not actually related to utena in any way) to my chest all the more because nobody else will. 36K WORDS, MOTHERFUCKERS.

Did you take any writing risks this year? mmm. i've used the second-person pov before to varying degrees of efficacy, but the junior detective kurusu akira fic and the every day au were the first times i really tried to use it as a proper conceit -- a choice that related to the way the character wanted the story framed. ymmv on how well they worked (ha! ha! most of the second-person punch in the junior detective fic happens in the ~20k after the prologue, oh god, nobody even knows what i'm talking about). at the v. least, i still think the every day au's ending wouldn't pack such a punch from any other perspective.

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year? WRITE STUFF THAT ISN'T VOLTRON, FOR FUCK'S SAKE. i've been reduced to just clawing at doors hissing LET ME GO... LET MY PEOPLE GO ...

From my past year of writing, what was...

My best story of this year: definitely the post-series winter cult. people keep describing it as hard to get into, which, yeah, it is. but it's also the most polished piece from this year.

in general, my best fic is always still the dazai/yosano thing from 2016. i didn't even round out all the subplots for that one, but because it's a crack ship, the whole dynamic is something i made, and i think that earns it a place on the trophy shelf.

My most popular story of this year: the shrine guardian au, i guess? which is bewildering, frankly: it's very fluffy, but i don't see that it does anything better than my other works. not to be all lucille bluth, i love all my children equally!!! and its prose is fine, but i wouldn't call it a standout piece.

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: it is a tie between my two big voltron aus -- i understand why the pseudo-utena flopped as hard as it did (60k worth of fic crammed into 36k, badly edited, had to cut two subplots and it still turned out a mess), but the darkest timeline auniverse fic was decent work with mediocre prose and a fuckton of worldbuilding. i'm this close to digging up a worldbuilding meme and answering all the questions that literally nobody will ever ask. THERE WAS SO MUCH TIMELINE BUILDING IN THAT ONE.

Most fun story to write: fun & joy are lies. all fic is suffering. only the motor fic came close, and that was awful in a different way: two characters with little established personality having to build chemistry and worldbuilding at the same time. fuck you both.

Story with the single sexiest moment: hilariously, despite the amount of porn i like to write, none of my fic's been personally sexy to me since 2013's mikorei pwp in which mikoto blew up some buildings and then convinced munakata to fuck him into a wall. what can i say, i'm an arson kind of girl.

Most "holy crap, that's wrong, even for you" story: nothing posted this year! but i'm gonna talk about my impending january posts because god, fuck, i'm not waiting a year so that i can talk excitedly about my 60k nightmare, i plan to be fucking burned out on voltron by february.

anyway: the first time i tried to explain lotor/matt to my best girl, she promptly texted back in horror: "DID YOU WRITE FIC WHERE LOTOR SOULBONDS MATT AND LEAVES HIM TO GET GANGBANGED." and, like. i want to explain, but the actual explanation wasn't really that much more comforting. so, there'll be that. i guess.

(there's actually no non-con involved! it's not even dubcon! IT'S NOT EVEN MATT WHO GETS LEFT.)

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters: the fucking motor fic. i knew what i liked about lotor as i was going in -- 90% of my motivation in writing it was "okay, i can't make any of the existing major lotor ships work for me, let's just throw this ridiculous spaghetti galra at a shipping wall and see what sticks" -- but matt was much more nebulous to me. i know fanon matt isn't all that far off from the matt we actually saw in season 4, but i was interested in someone who wasn't an older, cheerful, ingenious, meme-loving version of pidge. and the detail that i really got stuck on was the fact that he was a cadet when he went to kerberos, even though keith was the best pilot in his class and keith couldn't go. why?

obviously the simpler answer's "narrative convenience" and "why would anyone trust keith enough to send him into space with millions of dollars' worth of space equipment". but i really did want to play with the alternative too.

Hardest story to write: fucking god. the european travelogue was downright awful to get out. i think it's partly that there's an emotional density to it that isn't really present in my other fic, and partly that it's 25K OF SHIRO DESCRIBING ARCHITECTURE THAT IS PERFECTLY EASY FOR ANYBODY TO GOOGLE AND LOOK AT WITH THEIR OWN EYES.

i also found sheith particularly hard to build as a convincing slowburn. i have no idea how anyone does it. the ship's selling point, to me, is that keith would give shiro anything. if shiro weren't romantically interested, keith would live and die for him in every other way and be absolutely satisfied by that. i never write keith as secretly wanting more than shiro can give -- he'll do it by accident, when he misunderstands what shiro's capable of, but ultimately that's not what keith wants himself to be. shiro plays by the rules a little better, understands the risks + selfishness of dating someone only to leave them for a dangerous ten-month expedition -- but when it comes down to it, i can't write them as anything other than two people who understand each other at the baseline, where it counts. like, shiro may not actively acknowledge it, but i don't think he DOESN'T know that keith has no breaking point when it comes to him, and that there is very unlikely to be anyone else who could ever be what shiro is to him.

anyway: 25k of no-plot fluff! jesus! it was a fun little experiment, and i'm still amazed and delighted that anyone hunted my tumblr down to ask for fic. but i'll probably never write anything like that again.

Biggest disappointment: can you believe that i wrote 36k of psychic bonding fic and it didn't lead to telepathic porn? there's a lot in the utena pastiche that made me go "mm, not enough", a lot that was flatly messy first-draft fumbling, and i've never been happy about how it turned out, but that's still the biggest outrage to me. like. what was even the point. there's so much about it that makes me itch to rewrite, but the number-one reason that i never, ever will is that i'd have to find somewhere to fit porn to make it worth my time AND SOME THINGS ARE JUST IMPOSSIBLE.

Biggest surprise: i!! posted!! 100k+ words!!!!!!! WITH OVERFLOWING PUNCTUATION BECAUSE I DESERVE IT, MOTHERFUCKER. ficwise, though -- the lotor/matt au. why the fuck would you ship two characters who literally have no screen time together, share nothing in common, and are unlikely to develop a dynamic in future seasons, let alone this one? answer: ME: You have to promise to read the Lotor/Matt thing even though I've realised that their portmanteau is "Motor". MY GIRL: WELL now i have to read it ME: ME: Never mind, your boner killed mine.

but the joke's on me, because the one way to guarantee that i'll write something is a hot girl telling me she'll read it.

i love how most of this meme is grim self-encouragement to finish a fic that feels like it is literally killing me by dint of being the longest goddamn thing i've written in my life.

Most unintentionally telling story: well, it was GONNA be the junior detective kurusu akira fic, but i DIDN'T FINISH THAT.

on a more personal note: the every day au's ending was never in question for me. i'm rarely in the mood for conversation, but i can't stand keeping my feelings to myself: i don't feel real unless someone else can see me. it's why i like to yell in my post tags and do memes even though i follow like three actual personal blogs and a significant portion of this tumblr's designed to actively discourage 90% of people who stumble across it from adding me. the idea that, when you strip the viewer out, the object disappears -- that's probably as 'me' as a story gets.

Highlights + Wrap-up

Favourite Opening Lines (3):

The courthouse's a brushfire of camera lenses.

You wake up. [ ed. nt: not really the most unique or interesting of opening lines, but i've started to appreciate how this echoes throughout the piece and then builds into a clusterfuck chorus by the end. ]

[ nope. the other first lines weren't that great. fuck you, meme.]

Favorite 5 Line(s) Ficbits from Anywhere: [ ed. nt: fuck you, word limits & punctuation. ]

"I knew you were gone—long gone. No one could've called you back. But I just kept saying—if they were really Voltron, you'd be with them. You'd have come back for me."

"You stand," Allura whispers, "on territory that was consecrated by the five rituals of essential transference. You stand within the walls that my grandfather built, the walls for which my father sacrificed everything to keep from enemy dominion. The planet Altea remains because I lay claim to it, because I have not yielded to time and I will not yield. You may have served as Zarkon's witch; but in these halls, your very life hangs on Altea's mercy, my mercy. Either you'll remember an Altean's manners or a prisoner's—but so long as you speak to me, Haggar, you will choose one." -- so this fic was a series of dramatic triumphs that i did not build up to and therefore had no right to put in, but i don't care. if i'm going to write 100k++ of fic in a year, it's gonna be spread out over like ten different fics. and this is my favorite of the dramatic non-love confessional speeches that i wrote this year.

Keith lisps briefly and nastily under his breath. "Why would anyone pronounce an apostrophe?” <-- me throwing shade at a hundred years of scifi.

[ fuck you, listicles. ]

[ fuck you pt. 2. all the other sentences sucked. ]

Trivia left out of three fic:

pidge survives the events of the every day au and does eventually go on to form voltron. i left the fic where i did as a dramatic stopping point; in my head, i always knew where things were going to go afterwards. this clarity was helped in no small part because i had to immediately spill my guts to my best girl after she finished reading and realised in outrage that i'd given her a 19k fic in which her otp kissed zero (0) times. but yeah, everything works out -- albeit with a superdose of trauma -- and keith and pidge in particular have a moment which appeals to all my friendship kinks. i couldn't write the sequel in second-person, though, which is probably why i'll never do it. if i can't be pretentious and tragic, and i still can't work in any porn, then what is the point.

shiro, in the weird tattoo porn thing, has no idea of the effect he's having. in his mind, he's just being reasonable. this ties into my preference for writing s3-4!shiro as someone who thinks of himself as the same man who fell to earth a year ago, someone who has survived the galra over and over, someone who wants to lead in the war and deserves to do it. the trouble with this is that about one-point-five of those things are not necessarily things that the original shiro actually believes. i love this discrepancy between writing the two: there's one who buys into his own mythology of being a hero, and there's one who just wants everyone to survive and be happy and safe. in an ideal world (note: ideal to nobody but me), project kuron would be a thing where they created a perfect clone of shiro with all his memories but accidentally infused it with just enough galra beliefs about strength and the importance of war that it sabotages voltron's mission. that particular shiro doesn't mean to be fucked up, but his beliefs are, and he doesn't realise it until after the fallout of everything he's done hits the team. it's the entire basis for his behavior afterwards. this is one of those character development things that fell into the margins between the tattoo porn and its weird au sequel. i should have written the fic in between, i'm sure it would've been less confusing for everyone who read the goddamn sequence, but honestly, you could not pay me enough to write about keith and shiro's relationship falling apart.

this was never made explicit in the fic itself, though it seems pretty clear to me, but here goes. of the ten photographs, nine are pictures that shiro takes for keith to remember them by. the last is one that keith takes for shiro.

Lessons learned about writing in 2017:

when in doubt during edits, read the paragraph out loud. you don't have to do it very loudly, but people respond to something that flows off the tongue even if they aren't actually reading it out to themselves.

you're a niche writer. you write for you. that means you don't really have to edit if you're tired.

deadlines are bullshit. don't sign up for any more events featuring those.

with the way i write, there's always an element of mistrust. in my shorter fics, people are breaking up because they can't trust each other, or they're teetering on the brink of getting together -- but. in my longer fics, i really, really love to throw an unexplained element of mistrust into the mix (see: the fic where shiro leaves his own dimension and refuses to go back without any explanation) and only 'reveal 'it at the end. mistrust is an easy shortcut to tension. it's a good way to reframe the story, but it's also ... hm. predictable if it's literally all you write? i like to think that i'm capable of writing plots whose value isn't entirely based on the way they're told. i just need to let the story breathe once in a while.

the comma before 'too' is grammatically incorrect when that's the end of the sentence. my entire life is a goddamn lie.

there's such a thing as overdetail. a loose sketch and a twinkle of atmosphere will do better than three dense paragraphs detailing exactly where all the cathedrals are. my god, i never want to leave this continent again.

the best writing feeling is posting something and then tweaking all the small mistakes out of it. the second-best writing feeling is bringing someone you like a freshly-killed (read: edited) piece of prose, then demanding pets and cuddling for your great act of magnimity and courage.

looking back on my life, i should have been born a cat.

Fic-writing goals for 2018

post/finish all 80k of my existing drafts, THEN LEAVE VOLTRON FOREVER, I'M SO DARKLY EXCITED ABOUT THIS EXODUS.

seriously, write for any fandom but voltron. oh my god.

maybe i can just dive headfirst into ocean's eight and write a lot of bantery f/f until everyone forgets my embarrassing gay robolion phase.

a sci-fi au for nirvana in fire, heavily influenced by recent military scifi, in which (contrary to all the imperial death traditions) the chiyan army's memories and consciousness are ostensibly deleted from the imperial archives as punishment for their betrayal. several years down the line, jingyan finds his political influence rising with the advice of a helpful and very insistent ai advisor. IT'S TOO COMPLICATED AND I'M STILL THINKING ABOUT IT.

did you know that the natori/matoba section on ao3 has no explicit fic at all? like, zero. 2018 goals, baby. i don't care that nobody needs to know what horrible things they'd do to each other in bed. i'm gonna be this ship's rule 34, or the arsonist who burns down the house of the person who gets to it before me.

#writing meme #why everything

2 notes · View notes

thewhiterabbit42 · 7 years

Text

Full Circle: Part 4

Full Circle Masterlist

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader

Warnings/Tags: Winchester sister!reader, a touch of angst, a side of disappointment, odd forms of blasphemy, celestial cock blocking, and a few swears.

Word Count: 7,823

Summary: You’re given the chance to fix past mistakes, but, like most things with Gabriel, your night doesn’t go quite as planned.

Author’s note: All tags are at the end - if you find a line through your name, tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you :(

Special thanks to my wonderful beta @sumara62 because there’s always that one damn spot in each story you know exactly what I’m trying to say and you help me say it. Also special thanks to @blondecoffeecake who’s sunshine and encouragement is one of the few things limping my muse along right now.

<<Prev Chapter Part 4 Next Chapter>>

You were beginning to wonder if the resurrection process hadn’t left Gabriel’s eggs a little scrambled.

First, he snapped you into the bar. Not that you weren’t used to him preferring to travel that way. It was one thing to bring you to somewhere, however, and another to send you both barreling into the side of a building.

Just shaking the rust off, sweetheart was his response while casually brushing off the side of your jacket.

Second, his attention span was far more abysmal than you remembered. Sure, it had never been great if it didn’t involve sex, sweets, or sabotage, though tonight it seemed to have more to do with that scattered energy thrumming through him. It spilled over into his movements, every hand gesture, every look a little more frantic than was usual, which again had you questioning whether or not this Gabriel was somehow changed.

Third, he must have lost the instruction manual that came with the game because this was not how you played.

“Gabriel…” You said, voice taking on a sing song quality as you stretched out his name.

“Hmmm?” He hummed absentmindedly, eyes flicking up nonchalantly as if he’d been staring at your food instead of your chest. You glanced down, checking yet again to make sure you hadn’t dropped anything down the front of you that was somehow distracting him.

To be honest, you had dropped men for far less of an infraction, but this was Gabriel. You might have understood if you had yourself on display. The sweater you’d chosen, however, was probably the most modest thing you owned, neckline running high with an overall loose fit, giving only a hint of what was underneath.

Dean would be so proud. You couldn’t advertise yourself any less if you'd tried.

Sharp laughter drew your attention away and you turned toward it, watching a couple walk through the entrance. He disappeared out of your side vision for a split second and your hairs stood on end as he almost immediately reappeared. You didn’t even know what to do with that, other than maybe start questioning your sanity again. Every time you took your eyes off him, he seemed to glitch, as if not quite real.

Maybe he wasn’t. Maybe this was what you had dubbed his shadow twin and the real Gabriel was somehow still dead.

“That couple seem odd to you?” He asked, eyes drifting toward the bar. You followed it, gaze appraising. They appeared fairly mediocre. There was nothing notable in their appearance or with their clothing. The only thing that was in any way distinctive was the sheer air of bliss surrounding them. The woman couldn’t seem to stop giggling as the man whispered to her, his face beaming with a wide smile.

Newlyweds, because they were definitely living in a fantasy world.

“Other than looking disgustingly happy?” You did your best to keep your tone light and stave off the bitterness vying for a place in your voice.

“Exactly. I mean, who’s that happy?” He demanded, eyes narrowing. He wasn’t quite suspicious, but you also wouldn’t say he wasn’t eyeing them as if they might somehow be a threat.

“Normal people without a clue as to what’s really out there in the world?” You hedged a guess, chasing the slight edge in your tone down with the rest of your drink.

“You need another drink,” Gabriel decided, pointing to your glass. “And not that cheap stuff they keep behind the bar.”

You looked down to find your glass had not only been refilled with a different shade of amber, but it had also doubled in size. You took a sip, mouth awash in pleasant, smoother flavors followed by a less caustic burn once swallowed. The moment you looked up, however, you found his eyes right back where they’d been sitting for most of the evening.

There were worst things, you supposed, than being served top notched drinks while an archangel ogled you.

“Gabriel,” exasperation sang through his name, though it didn’t appear to faze him.

“Yes, sugar?” He replied, eyes dropping to his own glass as he rubbed a finger along the rim. He wasn’t staring, you realized, finally catching the look on his face. He was zoning out. It shouldn’t have surprised you. He never stuck around for very long, only you couldn’t remember him ever getting bored this quickly.

Then again, he hadn’t been exactly offering up his usual scintillating conversation, either.

“Well I can see what kind of guy you are,” you baited, turning your attention back to your burger.

“Excuse me?” His eyes flashed back up, a little more focused. There was nothing like throwing out a barb to get him hooked again.

“Most guys have a preference on body parts,” you said casually around a large bite of your food. “I once knew a guy that thought I had the sexiest ankles.” You smirked, both at the memory and at how high the angel’s brow arched as he regarded your features once again.

“My father did do an exceptional job when creating you,” he said so cautiously you almost stopped mid chew to stare. The Gabriel you knew was never careful. In fact, you were pretty certain his filter was permanently warped, if not outright broken. He also never acted with anything other than that obnoxious air of confidence that bordered on hubris.

It was clear by the way he was regarding you, however, he was not very confident as to where this conversation was going.

“I’m not fishing for compliments, champ, but thanks anyway,” you slid your plate a little closer to him, offering some fries which he, not surprisingly, refused. You suddenly recalled the only time you’d actually seen him eat any was when he’d had a milkshake to dip them in.

“So which do you prefer?” You continued, trying to prevent silence from lapsing again.

“Um, well, if this is a serious question,” he began, pausing to consider. “I’d say that’s a gross oversimplification of preferences. Beauty is so much more than just one aspect of a body, and I’m not talking the cliched what’s on the inside counts more mantra they preach these days - not that personality doesn’t play a role. But if we’re talking straight up physical attractiveness, it’s all about balance. You show me the hottest set of tits, legs, or ass in creation, and I’d guarantee if you put them all together it would be the one of the most grotesque things you’ve ever seen.”

For a moment you could only blink. It shouldn't have surprised you so much that Gabriel would somehow turn the tables and catch you off guard. Clearly, he wasn't the only one with a little rust to get rid of.

“What about you?” He asked. “You have any preferences?”

Oh, you had a preference alright, for all the wrong guys. Most of them had been one night stands or hunters, the latter of which had either ditched you, cheated on you, or in one case, left you for dead in the middle of a case. It wasn’t that you didn’t think you deserved better. The problem was finding someone who knew about the life without having all the baggage.

“Yeah,” you muttered, “Tends to be for giant dicks.” The words were out of your mouth before you realized what you’d said.

“Well, I didn’t expect you to be so one dimensional but I guess we all have our flaws,” he teased. You let out a slight laugh, almost inhaling one of your fries.

“Because who wants a giant one of those?” You snorted.

“I always figured Cas as more of a pushover than anything,” he mused, and the bitterness that crept into his words struck a similar note as your own.

“What does Cas have to do with anything?” You were completely lost again. You had no idea what happened between the two of them, but something had rubbed Gabriel the wrong way by how the dark-haired angel couldn’t seem to stay out of the conversation.

“Although..,” he began, eyes flashing up to yours, whiskey glimmering as he gave you a knowing smile. “If that was a hint you’re interested, sweetheart, you just had to say so.”

He hadn’t lost the manual, you decided. He had set it on fire and was in the process of making up new rules. It had been about subtleties, maybe a well placed innuendo here or there, but it had always been about dancing around those carefully placed lines. Tonight, however, he seemed intent on charging right over them.

“I believe your exact words were there’s a big difference in being a dick and knowing how to use one and you, Gabriel? Are the biggest dick in creation,” he reminded.

You smiled. You remembered that conversation well. Might have been because you were trapped in an alternate reality. Might have been because Gabriel stuck you in a naughty nurse’s outfit which made you livid. Might have also been because you punched him square in the face for it and then he’d given you a peace offering in the form of the herpes commercial and Nutcracker show.

You were just about to respond when your FBI cell went off. Gabriel suddenly stood up.

“Don’t get up on my account,” he said. “I’ll just go… get another round.”

You stared at the back of him as if he’d grown two heads when he moved toward the bar. Not only was he making his own drinks at this point, but you weren’t going anywhere considering you were pretty sure his super sonic angel hearing had a radius bigger than city block… not to mention why would you leave to take a call he was likely responsible for anyway?

There definitely had to be some circuits fried.

“Hey sheriff,” you answered, recognizing the number.

“I’d tell you to get those drinks ready, but I’m kind of already at the liquor store…” The sheriff informed you.

“Why do I sense a but coming…”

You could only imagine what would follow, and you braced yourself for the inevitable.

“... Probably because most of the store appears to have gone missing while the staff was working.”

You almost sighed in relief. Admittedly, that sounded odd, but it didn’t exactly sound like Gabriel’s normal brand of mischief.

“I’m looking at the security feed right now and one was at the register all shift while the other was in back doing inventory, so neither of them did anything, but neither did anyone else.”

“Like someone stole the store out from under their nose… and the security cameras?” You asked, confused.

“That’s just it. The bottles are still there, but the liquor itself… well, it’s gone. Like someone poured it out and put it all back...”

Your eyes narrowed on Gabriel who turned, giving you an innocent wave.

“Or like someone drank it?” You stated more than asked.

“I… guess?” He responded. It sounded like he was unsure whether or not to call you out on your theory. Not the only one waving around a one way ticket to the crazy express. He apparently came to the same conclusion and decided to move on.

“It gets stranger, if you can believe it,” the second half of his statement seemed to be muttered more to himself than her. “Only three sections were left when we arrived: gin, whiskey, and vodka. Five minutes ago a whiskey bottle fell off the shelf and when a deputy went to pick it up… he found some of it missing. Someone opened that bottle and took some of it while we were here.”

“Let me guess. That bottle was high shelf stuff,” you surmised.

“How’d you know?” The man sounded not only surprised, but a little spooked.

The sheriff didn’t know just how lucky he was to be dealing with empty liquor bottles. If vanishing whiskey unnerved him this much, she’d hate to see what he’d do with reports of slow dancing aliens or any number of antics Gabriel could conjure up.

“If you haven’t opened any of those bottles yourself, you probably should,” you said dryly, trying to ease some of his nerves, though you were only half-joking.

“My deputy might be in back with one of his own as we speak,” he said, completely not joking. “Can I ask you something and get an honest answer?”

“You can ask,” you told him, careful not to commit to actually answering anything.

“Do you know what’s going on?”

Honestly, you didn’t feel like you did. You knew Gabriel was responsible, but what you couldn’t figure out was why he seemed so unlike his usual self. Then again, you’d probably have a hard time bouncing back if your brother had killed you, but you couldn’t help but feel as if there was something else you were missing.

“I have an idea,” you finally said, gaze absently falling back on the archangel. He met it this time, giving you a devilishly handsome smile. Scratch that. Handsomely devilish by the extra little glint in his eye. Probably because he was listening to every word being said and enjoying the chaos he’d started.

“Do I want to know?” He asked.

Well, wasn’t that a loaded question. The sheriff seemed like a nice enough man. There probably wasn’t a need to shatter his normal concept of the world over someone who would undoubtedly disappear from town before tomorrow anyway. You just needed to keep said someone corralled in the meantime.

“No, sheriff, you really don’t,” you advised.

“Right. I’ll just… spend the rest of my night figuring out how to write a report that doesn’t make me sound like my cheese has finally slipped off my cracker.”

“You know, a local trickster is as good a scapegoat as any,” you suggested, watching the angel’s lips curl up into a smirk.

“That’s not half bad,” the sheriff replied, sounding thoughtful. “And the hotel?”

Your watched as Gabriel received another glass, this one was orange tinged and had a little umbrella sticking out the top. You put the phone on your shoulder, arching a brow as you pointed to the newest drink. Sex on the beach he mouthed before his brows gave a quick flare. You rolled your eyes, turning your back to him as you picked up your phone again.

“Agent, you there?” The sheriff was asking.

“Yeah… I’m not sure what advice you’re looking for since I don’t know what hotel you’re talking about,” you hinted. You weren’t sure, but you thought you might have heard a long, drawn out sigh. “Call back if you need to, but if you want to avoid any potentially strange things, you may not want to check the vodka aisle anytime soon.”

“Right. I think I’m going to be tied up here for the rest of the night. All these empty bottles need to be processed and entered as evidence,” he began to explain, nervousness coloring his tone.

“Sheriff, if you’re smart, you’ll stay tied up the rest of the time I’m here,” you told him, giving him the out he was looking for.

“Yeah. Good idea,” he said before ending the call.

An amused puff of air slipped out of your nose and you shook your head. This was why you couldn’t find anyone normal, because all the regular, smart ones knew when to run. Not that you were disappointed considering your alternate plans, although now a little sideways, still involved one of the few individuals that could make you feel remotely like yourself again.

“Gabriel...” You called over, tucking the phone back in your pocket. The way his eyes snapped to yours immediately, he had been waiting for his cue. He turned, fixing you with a charming smile as he caught sight of the stern look on your face.

“Gabe,” he corrected, sauntering back toward you. “You, my dear, can call me Gabe.” His voice dropped a little lower, brows giving a quick flare.

Old habits apparently died harder than archangels. He’d been waging this battle since TV Land. At the time, it seemed wise not to get too familiar with a being like him. Strict boundaries and clear lines had seemed so important back then.

What you called him now, however, was the least of your worries.

“Gabe,” you conceded.

Triumph splashed across his face in the self-satisfied pull of his lips and the crinkle of his eyes, and you could have sworn he’d won an actual war instead of laying to rest such a small detail in your relationship.

“Yes?” He asked, tone raising dramatically as he leaned even closer to you. That’s when it hit you.

You would never forget this smell. It was the one your father never failed to reek of the first night back from a case, only this wasn’t the one of someone who’d just emptied half a bottle of whiskey. This wasn’t even the smell of someone who’d had a full one. The one coming from the angel was more than was humanly possible… like an entire liquor store was pouring out of him.

And just like that, one of the final puzzle pieces dropped into place.

“Are you drunk?” You demanded, folding your arms over your chest.

“Maybe?” He asked back. “It’s been a few centuries. I’m… not quite sure.” He leaned a little too far into your space, and you felt your heart rate quicken at his closeness. His balance shifted faster than he could compensate for and you had to grab him as he stumbled to keep him upright.

“Why don’t we head back to the hotel,” you suggested. The thought of having to manage a sober archangel was daunting enough, let alone having to deal with an inebriated one in public. The last thing you needed was for him to get bored and really start some mischief.

Trying to explain to an entire police department how to wrangle a minotaur was not on a list of things you ever wanted to do again.

Gabriel’s eyes dropped to where your hand had settled. You could feel his heart thumping gently against your palm and you were surprised when it quickened. You weren’t sure how everything worked when they took over a vessel, but you had seen Cas hurt enough times to know they didn’t make nearly as big of a mess when they got injured. It was comforting to know their hearts still beat though, even if they technically didn’t need them.

Once he seemed steady enough, you stepped back, releasing him.

“I thought you’d never ask, sweet cheeks,” he murmured, waiting for you to turn around before smacking you square in the ass. You froze, lips pursing together as you bit back a response. If having two brothers had taught you anything, it was if you didn’t react, the shenanigans would at least not get any worse.

“Just cashing in that rain check you owe me,” he explained and you could hear the self-satisfied grin varnishing his tone.

You moved forward, trying to put some distance between the two of you. The energy in the room had become more chaotic since you called him on being drunk, and it only fueled your suspicion that he was still keeping something from you. You just wished he trusted you enough to stop playing games and just tell you what the hell was going on.

“I… should probably not snap us anywhere,” he declared as he caught up to you. “Last time I drank a little too much, I ended up in the bathtub at my neighbor’s apartment. His name was Bubba and he liked his baths.” Gabe’s brows shot clear to his hairline in recollection before a sing-song, “Awk-ward,” slipped out of his mouth.

You also wished he could stop being so damn endearing long enough for you to hold his feet to the fire.

“Come on, bubbles. Let’s get you out of here,” you told him, taking him by the arm.

He let out a chuckle, dimples showing as his smile softened to one of genuine amusement. It was the most relaxed response you’d seen all evening, that little manic edge seeming to have faded now that he had a decent amount of drink in him, despite the surge in his energy.

“If you’re trying not to be attractive, you’re failing miserably,” he let you know as you made your way out the door. You ignored the comment, thankful you didn’t have far to go with him.

“Right now? I’m just trying to get your drunk ass off the street,” you told him. The hotel was right around the corner. All you had to do was keep him out of trouble for five minutes… which was far easier said than done.

“I could conjure us up a little magical transportation,” he said and your eyes widened as he raised his hand.

“No,” you insisted, hastily grabbing at his fingers which were poised to snap. It was bad enough dealing with whatever a rational Gabriel conjured; you could only imagine what would appear now.

“I thought you liked unicorns?” He teased, grinning.

Oh, you liked them all right… after they’d been filled with magical lead. For all the lore that had remained, you’d have thought bloodthirsty impaling assholes would have been hinted at somewhere, not just the whole rainbow magic and sparkles.

“I get it. You’re looking for something a little more subtle,” he said, slipping his arm out from yours and twirling around, leaving his other hand still in your grasp. “How about an acromantula?”

“Gabriel,” you warned, a laugh escaping your lips as you imagined the look on the sheriff’s face when he started receiving reports of a man and a woman riding a giant spider through town. The angel taunted you by raising his still free hand, readying it to snap. You lunged forward only to have him yank it out of reach at the last second.

“Ok, ok. I’ll settle for a satyr,” he said, pretending to be put out as his hand continued to zig zag away from your grasp. You let out a groan which only made his grin widen.

“Jesus’ crispy bacon, don’t you even dare,” you warned, finally capturing his second hand and holding it tightly in yours.

“Protest all you want, but I know it’s a lot more fun than anything tall, dark and dour does with you,” he said, smugness creasing his lips as he smirked down at you. “Bet you’d even enjoy the look on the sheriff’s face when you explained how to catch one of those.”

You had no idea what the hell his first remark meant, but he wasn’t completely wrong with the latter. You bit your lip, stifling a giggle when you thought about what he’d look like when he realized the only two settings that came with those beasts were hungry and horny.

“Would be a shame to actually get called out for anything and lose this quality time we’re having,” you told him. “But I guess that is what I do. Hunt things. Save people. Hang out with giant dicks,” you baited, beginning to drag him along the sidewalk by his hands.

If you could just keep him distracted, you might have a shot of making it without attracting attention.

“Kidding,” he sang, his announcement pushing the fringe of incredulity. “Even I don’t want to deal with that headache. I only used them that one time to prove the point that I am not the most obnoxious being in creation, as Thing One so enthusiastically suggested,” he reminded.

You could never keep it straight which brother was which, though you could recall Dean pitching an abnormally big hissy fit and getting into Gabriel’s face before it all happened, so you could only assume it was him. He was also the target of not one but three of the four satyrs the angel had conjured while the fourth one, of course, had gone rogue to terrorize the town.

“Admit it: you just did it to see the look on his face when they started humping his legs,” you told him as you neared the corner.

“Would you believe me if I said I did it for the look on your face when it did?” He said, all dramatic pretenses dropping.

“Why would you do that?” You asked absentmindedly, head craning to catch a glimpse of the hotel. Another minute or two and you’d be back in your room where, if needed, you could stuff his ass in the second closet which was warded to contain angels and demons, since both were equally on your naughty list these days.

“If you don’t know the answer to that, sweetheart, you still aren’t paying attention,” he said with a shake of his head. You glanced back at him, brows knitting together. Was that disappointment you detected?

“C’mon. We’re almost there,” you told him, giving him a smile because you didn’t know what else to do. You released one of his hands, keeping a firm grip on the other as you turned and continued on.

By the time you made it into the building, you weren’t sure what you had trailing behind you. Gabriel hadn’t said another word and you hadn’t chanced a glance to see exactly what kind of mood he was in. Was it his surly counterpart that occasionally made an appearance? Was it the even rarer pensive version that actually thought before saying something? Was it even really him?

You pulled him past the elevator, not wanting to risk the ride. At least if you kept moving you could pretend things weren’t as awkward as they increasingly felt.

“Last one up gets the couch,” you challenged as you entered the stairwell, giving him a playful nudge with your elbow before taking off up the stairs. You had made it almost to the top when you realized you didn’t hear him behind you. You glanced down, pace slowing when you noticed he was no longer there.

Son of a bitch. Had he seriously just given you the slip? Your heart screeched to a halt, anxiety pouring down through your chest and forcing the air from your lungs. You were more concerned about the fact that he was gone again than by the havoc he could potentially be wreaking.

You reached the top landing, turning just in time to keep from colliding with the body that suddenly appeared in front of you.

“Jesus fuck,” you shrieked, so startled that you instinctively jumped back. Gabriel grabbed you, preventing you from tumbling back down the steps as he whirled you around and safely into his arms. You couldn’t tell if it was his touch or the sheer amount of adrenaline rushing through you that sent a dizzying jolt through your system, but for a moment all you could do was stare.

“Thanks,” you finally said and the look on his face was unreadable. “That’s cheating, by the way.”

You gave him a small smile. He didn’t say a word in return. He simply released you before reaching behind his back to open the door. He gestured for you to go through, but you hesitated.

You didn’t want him out of your sight again, though you couldn’t actually tell him that. You also didn’t want to admit how much had gone through your head in that moment he disappeared. You held your hand back out to him, tension mounting as you waited for his response. You kept the same smile plastered on your face, hoping it might ward off whatever was causing that manic undercurrent to become so much more pronounced again. Everything about him resembled a caged animal, one that was desperate to be let out.

It was not a look he wore well.

He laced his fingers with yours, your hand practically buzzing from his energy. Relief eased some of your worry and you focused on just making it back to your room. It was only halfway down the hall, but somehow those final feet seemed to take even longer than the rest of the walk had.

You were very aware of the increasingly heavy silence with each step, as were you to the why. How many times had you fantasized about leading Gabriel back to your room? About the way it would feel for his lips to be on yours, his hands exploring the curves of your body, as you explored just what exactly lay beneath his clothes. How many times had you prayed for a second chance with him because you could never find the courage the first hundred or so you’d been given, and squandered?

Then again, in all those situations, neither of you were stewing in alcohol. You let out a slow breath, finding you were relieved more than disappointed. How many times had you prayed for him just to be alive and eating his way into a diabetic coma somewhere?

You stopped in front of your door, fishing your key out of your pocket before sticking it in the lock.

“You still with me, champ?” You asked, catching sight of the distant look on his features. He didn’t respond. He seemed a million miles away at that moment. Then again, who was to say he really wasn’t? At this point, anything was possible, including the notion that this was somehow one giant mindfuck of a trick.

His gaze lowered slightly, as if sensing that thought, whiskey shaking off a little haze before focusing on you. Intently.

“You going to let me in?” He mused, brow arching slightly. The look in his eye was different, unfamiliar, and it was making you nervous. You weren’t about to deny him, however. At least letting him in afforded you a modicum of control.

You were about to be shown just how very wrong that assumption was.

He was practically on top of you the moment you made it through the threshold, his presence suddenly looming. It swelled even further as the door clicked shut behind him, every inch of the space filled with him and only him.

“You going to eat me?” you teased, only half-joking as you tried to dispel some of the tension still hovering in the air.

“Only if you want me to, sweetness.” His tone caressed your senses like the finest silk; it was so smooth and utterly seductive. You swallowed as the lights suddenly dimmed, candles popping up at the snap of his fingers to create the perfect ambience.

“Gabriel what --”

“Hush,” he murmured, finger flashing up to your lips in an attempt to cut off your protest. “I’m going to go out on limb and assume the sheriff was not intended as a third for your little party.”

You blinked. If he didn’t start making sense soon, your mind was going to collapse on itself from all the whiplash you were getting.

“I mean, I can’t imagine Cas would even know what to do with you properly, let alone two of you, so I assume whatever arrangement you have is not exclusive.”

The scariest part about that conclusion was that he looked like he was actually clarifying something.

“You’re drunk,” you told him. Clearly he had forgotten which Winchester he was talking to, and you would have laughed had he not been so serious about it.

“Gabriel, I honestly have no idea what you’re going on about,” you told him when he just continued to stare. “Why don’t we get you some water.”

Wait. Did water even work on angels?

“Don’t,” he warned, eyes narrowing dangerously. “His scent was all over your bed when I got here - all over you. I can still feel him beneath your skin.”

Well… how about that. Suddenly Cas being the man of the hour and all the surrounding oddness made sense. Not only did Gabriel think there was something going on between you and the other angel, he was jealous about it. Really jealous.

Holy shit.

“Gabe, I -- we --” you held your hand up, trying to communicate how this was all some big misunderstanding. Your nervousness, however, came across more as fear as you took a step back, trying to escape the intense swirl of energy surrounding him.

“I get it,” he told you, the dark edge receding some from his gaze. “We all get lonely,” he managed a casual shrug, giving you a slight smile. “We all have needs.” He stepped forward, closing the gap you’d just created and your tongue anxiously darted out across your lower lip. His gaze was instantly drawn to the movement, and you couldn’t help but feel like you had somehow just provoked him as slow burning heat igniting across hazel depths.

You stepped back again, knowing the closer he was, the harder it was for you to think straight.

“Drinks or not, I’m thinking more clearly than I ever have,” he insisted, matching your step again with one of his own. You’d never seen his gaze like this, like a fire was lit beneath the surface, turning whiskey molten from the inside out. His want was so palpable, crossing the space between you before kissing over your skin in heated waves that ebbed and flowed.

“I know you don’t want him,” he continued. “When you needed help or answers, I was the one you turned to first,” He reminded, continuing to force you back further across the room. “I was the one you called out for when famine brought you to your knees...”

All you could do was swallow, breathe, and keep moving back...

“And you prayed for my help when your brother’s became overbearing grizzlies and wouldn’t let you out of their sight…”

… until you hit the wall, and found you had nowhere else to go. He slowed his steps, but he didn’t stop them. For every inch that slowly vanished, his yearning washed over you. It sank beneath your skin, seeking out the slow burning embers of a desire you were trying very hard to keep contained.

“I’m the one you always call for,” he murmured, voice dipping lower as his hands came up to meet the wall on both sides of you, trapping you in place. “Because I’m the one you really want.”

You could barely breathe he was so close, everything about him completely overwhelming you from the warmth radiating from his body to the buzzing of his energy now trapped in the small space between you, down to the way he smelled now that the scent of alcohol had diminished.

“When you’re sober, you may not want this,” you told him, searching for something to keep you anchored as you felt your resolve crumbling. You could feel your own desire responding to his, not only growing but reaching out in response, as if trying to latch on to his sentiments and make them your own.

He sensed the shift in you, victory glowing across features. His lips pulled up into that trademark smirk and suddenly he was more himself than he’d seemed all night… save that manic undercurrent that still lingered in his eyes.

“One never knows how long they’ll be here, sweetheart, so it’s often best to live in the moment,” his voice was reduced to a low rumble in the back of his throat, as that heated gaze pressed upon you. Intuition flared, a heavy sensation taking the edge off what was happening as you realized you’d seen that look before.

“Gabriel?” You breathed, your voice feeling heavy in your throat.

“Yes, sugar?” He replied, eyes dropping unconsciously to your lips as he wet his with anticipation.

You were almost afraid to ask, but this wasn’t some question you could just swallow. “What do you know that I don’t?”

“Do I have to tell you?” He purred, leaning so close his nose almost touched yours. “Or this time can I just show you?”

Oh sweet Jesus. This was happening. Gabriel was looking at you like he was going to devour every inch of you, regardless of what loomed on the horizon, and the last you checked, you were definitely not dreaming.

Knowing he wanted you was too much. Hunger erupted, burning through you until your blood was singing through your veins for him. Only as usual, you found yourself unable to do anything about it.

God you were such a coward.

Your silence only encouraged him, lips tugging up on one side as he dropped his head lower. Warmth curled over your ear as he released a slow, steady breath. You shivered, goosebumps racing down your spine and over the back of your arms. His lips hovered close, so close, it was like you could feel them ghosting over your skin, trailing just behind his breath as he continued to release it down along the side of your neck.

Gabriel was doing things to you without a single touch that some men couldn’t do in an entire night.

“You are so sensitive,” he said, voice husky with emotion. “I’ve barely even touched you with my grace and you’re already on fire.”

Grace. That’s what you could feel on your skin. You gasped as it shifted, trailing down the curve of your shoulder and dusting across your collarbone. You didn’t even know that was possible.

Son of a bitch wasn’t playing fair.

The breath and energy stopped for a moment, gold flashing up with question as he hovered near your throat. You didn’t dare move. You were torn between not wanting the madness to end and a part of you knowing that something still wasn’t quite right. He knew something you didn’t and the hunter in you should have been pinning him against the wall and insisting that he tell you.

Except it was too late for that.

The moment his lips brushed against you it was over. You inhaled sharply, energy sparking across skin and skittering down through your chest. Your heart rate spiked, beating so fast with anticipation and need if you didn’t do something soon it was going to burst.

It would be your luck to die of a heart attack before he’d even properly kissed you.

His mouth came down against your pulse, a distinct thrumming shooting straight into your veins. This time it was your lungs that felt the jolt, breath seizing in them, cutting off a groan that had started in your throat.

He was killing you. There was no way you were going to survive this… but it sure would be one hell of way to go.

“Please let me touch you,” he pleaded, his voice strained as he pulled back slightly. “Father, I just need to touch you. I need you to touch me.”

You could feel how tense his body was becoming, his arms nearly rigid. You didn’t realize he’d been waiting for your permission. In fact, you didn’t think Gabriel asked permission for anything.

The look of torment on his face wasn’t just about having to use restraint. There was desperation woven into every action, every look, that went beyond pent-up desire. You could see that now, and you found it too similar to your own feelings of loneliness that had steadily grown over the last several months.

He’s right, you realized. You never knew what was coming and even when you did, it didn’t mean the odds were any more in your favor. He was here now, and wasn’t that what you had wanted? Another chance to undo one of the few regrets you could not seem to shake?

You placed a hand over his cheek, touch lightly grazing over the contour of his face. He froze, holding so still as if afraid the slightest movement might scare you away. His eyes slipped shut, a ragged breath releasing as you slipped your fingers into his hair, tips drinking in the unexpected softness. How many times had you imagined being the reason this perfect part of him became mussed?

Feeling emboldened, your other hand came up to cup his jaw, thumb tracing lightly over the faint stubble across his chin. His eyes slowly opened again and you found yourself staring into gold capped green seas caught up in a storm neither one of you had any hope of escaping.

“Tell me that you want this,” he insisted,and the amount of restraint he used seemed on the verge of being painful. “Or tell me to stop. Tell me to leave.”

Tell me something his stare begged as it bore down upon you. It took you a moment to realize he was giving you an out. Was he having his own doubts? The almost feral look in the darks of his eyes suggested otherwise, but he still hesitated, waiting for you along the edge of a precipice, one whose height you had no way of knowing.

Good thing you Winchesters were known for taking crazy, flying leaps.

You moved your thumb higher, touch feather-light as you traced the edge of his bottom lip. He let out a noise caught somewhere between a groan and a growl, eyes edging further into wild territory as you continued to draw things out. The power you were suddenly wielding was intoxicating.

No wonder Gabriel loved to throw his around so much.

“I want this, Gabe,” you told him, and never had you been more sure of anything in your life. “I want you.”

And just like that, the game was over.

Your lips found his in an ungentle embrace, teeth nearly knocking as he leaned forward to meet you. The energy in the room rose to a dizzying crescendo, your heart keeping pace until everything seem to release, within you, around you, within Gabriel himself, all the tension dissipating from his frame.

His hands slipped beneath the folds of your jacket, eagerly running along your sides. His fingers brushed over your ribs, teasing along the edge of your breasts, touching them without touching. You moaned as he took hold of your mouth and sucked, pulling your lower lip between his before teeth gave a nibble.

Palms lowered once more, over to the dip of your waist before slipping around your lower back. His fingers stretched lower, tips digging into flesh as they continued their exploration before really cashing in that rain check of his and fully cupping you.

In the blink of an eye, he had you off the ground, effortlessly hoisting you up. The way your body moved was as if it were an extension of his, legs immediately wrapping around his waist as your arm slipped around his shoulder for extra support. He nestled against you, pinning your body to the wall and freeing his hands for further exploration.

You could barely think, your mind overwhelmed by overload of sensations. The warmth of him pressed against you, the way his grace had pleasant jolts streaking across your body wherever it touched, the way it couldn’t compare to his actual touch, fingers drinking in the feel of your skin as it slipped beneath your sweater, leaving sparks of heat in their wake as they teased their way along the waistband of your jeans.

“Jesus,” you breathed, arching against him when he dragged his lips down, allowing you a moment to catch your breath.

“The name’s Gabriel,” he reminded, voice almost a growl as teeth nipped possessively at your neck. “And that’s the only name I expect to hear from that lovely mouth of yours.”

This was not a request, and the way he took charge only had everything inside you reaching a boiling point. You needed to feel him against you, to feel his heat on your body, skin against skin, and neither one of you were going to be able to get out of any clothes like this.

“Bed, now,” you commanded. You felt the briefest smile as his lips soothed over where teeth had certainly left their mark. You grabbed his face, angling his mouth back up to yours as he pulled you away from the wall and backed slowly toward the mattress. You couldn’t get enough of the feel of his lips, of the maddening hint of his taste as you swept your tongue across his bottom lip.

He moaned in response, so distracted with what you were doing that he didn’t realize how close you were to your destination. The back of his legs unexpectedly hit the bed, sending you both tumbling backwards. Instead of bouncing onto the mattress, however, you landed against something unexpectedly solid. Your knees slammed hard against it, pain radiating through them, and by the jarring oomph beneath you, you were pretty sure Gabriel’s back had absorbed most of his impact.

“The hell,” you muttered, eyes flying open only to find yourself in complete darkness. Your hands came in contact with something smooth, something cold, something that definitely was not your bed as you attempted to push yourself up. The lights flickered on and suddenly you were hoping this was a dream after all.

It wasn’t possible. Not only were you no longer in your hotel room, you weren’t even in the same town. How you had ended up back at the Elysian Fields Hotel was beyond you, but you found yourself in the last place you ever wanted to be with Gabriel.

He was splayed out, ash rising up around him in perfect alignment with where you’d expect his wings to be. You swallowed, eyes riveted to the prints as you realized he was in the exact same position as when he died.

Gabe looked up, your look of panic the first thing registering as his features fell.

“Get us out of here,” you told him, dread pooling in your stomach, making it feel heavy.

He sat up, features hardening as he looked around.

“Gladly,” he said and just like that, the manic edge returned. He raised his hand and snapped once. Twice. Three times, before that same look of fear you’d seen almost a year ago overtook his features.

“It’s too late. He won’t let me leave,” he told you, cracks beginning to show in his mask. He suddenly looked guilty. Very guilty... and very, very sorry.

His earlier explanation came back to you and fear raced down your spine.

Please let us still be in the present. Please let us still be in the present.

A familiar slow-creeping dread trickled through you, the presence weighing down your insides until you felt rooted in place.

“Tell me it’s not who I think it is,” you said, unable to give voice to the name that was the cause of so much of your pain.

Because I can’t do this again.

His hand came up to the side of your face, thumb stroking a path of reassurance as the sentiment slowly built in his gaze. He opened his mouth, but whatever he said was lost over the clap of thunder that echoed across the room right before a blinding light engulfed you.

Next Chapter>>

ALL the tags:

@girl-next-door-writes @fand0maniac @feelmyroarrrr @omgreganlove @jannalionheart @baritonechick, @deaths-maiden @lucifer-in-leather @stone-met @the-moose-of-baskerville @summer-binging-spn @raspberrypuddle @ourloveisforthelovely @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @crowley-you-sinnamon-roll @tistai @christinalibertymikaelson

Gabe Squad:

@theblackenedsky @bloodstained-porcelain-doll @pepperwoodatnight @lacqueluster @samikitten @ludwigs-a-monster @a-vast-african-plain @onlyanothersocialcasualty @kazosa @cobra--1972

Full Circle: @melodyhiddleston

#Gabriel x Reader #Reader insert #Supernatural fanfic #Spn fanfic #rabbit writes #Full Circle

94 notes · View notes