#Abandoned Betting Track Aesthetic

[aeztheticzforthemuzes]

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ silly block game ]❜

ft. lucy pevensie, edmund pevensie, susan pevensie, peter pevensie (seperate) x gn! reader — the chronicles of narnia

╰₊✧ playing minecraft with the pevensie siblings┊1.5k words

setting: modern au, no mentions of narnia contains: fluff & crack, modern alternate universe, they are children in the image but ages are unspecified (so it could be romantic or platonic), mentions of in-game player & pet deaths,

➤ author's note: i had a dream that peter died in my arms while we were playing minecraft and decided to write cute headcanons when i woke up like a loser

━━━ .°˖✧ lucy pevensie ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ favorite biome - cherry grove, favorite mob - frogs, favorite flower - lily of the valley, favorite wood - birch, favorite block - moss

╰₊✧ she takes her time when it comes to completing the game and may take forever to get to the end dimension, prefering to play on peaceful mode so that she can focus on exploring and creating with keep inventory on since she doesn’t want to stress out about playing, enjoying everything it has to offer and will continuously pause on making progress to admire the scenery (but sometimes she turns it on easy mode to give her a little challenge when caving). oddly enough, even if the difficulty was on hard mode, she never seems to encounter any hostile mobs and they all decide to attack you instead while mining. it’s not an uncommon occurrence for her to tell you that she found her eighth patch of diamonds only for you to scream in response because you found a zombie spawner. she’ll manage to make it out of a pillager outpost without losing so much as half a heart while you’re looking like a pincushion, how does she do it?

╰₊✧ more of a farmer player who is mesmerized by all the different types of flowers and will have a goal of harvesting all of them to make colorful fields that stretch on for longer than your render distance will allow you to see. she’s most excited about updates that have new plants, wood types, and animals, keeping pets of all kinds even if they aren’t meant to be domesticated! her base is practically a zoo and is always full of life just like she is, yet it still naturally blends in with the area so well that it seems naturally generated at first glance. on a creepier note, the more hidden areas might have a skull or two placed to fit an overgrown and abandoned aesthetic, but at least it’s pretty with all of the spore blossoms!

╰₊✧ lucy hates villager trading farms with a passion, finding them too inhumane despite the fact that the villagers are npcs without sentience of any sort. it breaks her heart to see them in such cramped living conditions whose only purpose is for trade, so she’ll work on freeing them while you’re offline. she’ll spend hours upon hours gathering materials in secret to build a nicer village than the one they formally resided in before dismantling your system, with a good amount of iron golems to protect them from hostile mobs since she didn’t want to restrict them by building a fence or walls. (don’t worry, all of them are named and she’s kept a book on all of their trades so that you can keep track! the hard part is only tracking them down, but the big village is a thousand times better than the ugly trading hall you had before).

━━━ .°˖✧ edmund pevensie ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ favorite biome - ice spikes, favorite mob - horses, favorite flower - torchflower, favorite wood - dark oak, favorite block - prismarine

╰₊✧ he enjoys speedrunning, the only thing standing between him and being on the leaderboard is minor slip-ups that cost the entire game. he tends to get too cocky, especially once he’s gathered all he needed from the nether fortress and prematurely celebrates before a blaze knocks him off the edge, so you bet that you’re going to hear him come up with the most creative insults you would ever hear over the discord call (not including swears because he will be scolded for his language by someone in his house). his best record of beating the game is around forty minutes, nothing to gawk at, but something that he’s very proud of after all of his practice.

╰₊✧ if it’s not a world dedicated to that, where he doesn’t need to build a base, then he’ll place down all of the essentials and call it a day without a roof over his head. it’s not like he can actually get wet from the rain or sunburn from the sun, so he doesn’t bother and just lives like that until you persuade him to at least dig out a hole in a mountain to keep away from night-time mobs and expand whenever needed. his scattered chests are a mess, by the way, you can’t find anything while he just spam clicks and glazes over the screen to find something in his strange little system. he insists that he knows where everything is and that organization isn’t needed.

╰₊✧ also a total prankster, but will never blow up builds or destroy anything of yours because he knows how much time you put into it for a minute of amusement. he likes watching where you log out and trapping you in that spot with obsidian, something that you can easily get out of with a pick but is still annoying enough for him to get a kick out of it. once he wasn’t sure where the exact spot was, so he spent an entire real-life night meticulously encasing the area in glass and then flooding every block of air with water. he wondered multiple times if the effort was worth it in the process, but he cried tears of laughter when you couldn’t get out at all since you drowned before you could break the glass and then swim out. it was an endless cycle of “died by drowning” until you offered him a chest of iron blocks for your freedom.

━━━ .°˖✧ susan pevensie ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ favorite biome - mountains, favorite mob - foxes, favorite flower - rose bushes, favorite wood - mangrove, favorite block - quartz

╰₊✧ has mixed feelings on redstone, something that makes so much yet so little sense. it’s something that she likes to think that she mastered quickly, but you can always hear her muttering under her breath about how an entire contraption broke because of something dumb like the repeater being a tick off. she always covers up these machines with big, elaborate builds in a unique gothic style that you’ve only seen from her— although most of these builds are hollow since she doesn’t know how to design the interior, leaving entire towns empty until she lets you fill them up with various shops and villagers to make it feel more lived-in.

╰₊✧ refuses to throw anything away and maybe has a bit of a hoarding tendency, you cannot convince her to toss so much as a rotten potato into the lava because she “might need it in the future” even though it’s the most worthless item in the game. her storage system is immense and conscientiously organized with item frames and color signs while practically overflowing, but she has copious amounts of everything and is very generous when it comes to sharing as long as you ask beforehand! (as a result, her least favorite mobs are creepers because she needs to sort out the damaged chests before everything disappears, a complete nightmare)

╰₊✧ has god-like accuracy with any projectiles and has mending on her bow because she hates how expensive it is to get a new one with maxed-out enchantments and argues about how it’s so much better than infinity once she made the switch. you need an inventory slot with at least one arrow anyway, so why can’t you just have the full stack when you can always pick up more by killing skeletons? it may be a bit pretentious of her, but she might mock you that you just have a skill issue when she sees you being a bad shot before giving you some tips on how to improve.

━━━ .°˖✧ peter pevensie ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ favorite biome - fields, favorite mob - dogs/wolves, favorite flower - oxeye daisy, favorite wood - spruce, favorite block - diamond ore

╰₊✧ from “the sky’s the limit” to “whatever floats your goat,” the game isn’t done until he’s gotten all of the achievements no matter how stupid they may be! he’s pretty serious about completing, but once he’s finished, you can see him start goofing off and being more ridiculous. unlike his brother who plays the pranks, he tends to be the victim of them and can’t get revenge at all because his traps are a bit obvious (lucy always helps him out in that department). on the other hand, he’s great at pvp and fighting mobs, best with a sword, and likes to start raids to fight for fun with the “hero of the village” effect being a massive ego boost as well.

╰₊✧ his builds are pretty boring and cramped since he never upgrades it as needed, his house is really just a box made out of planks from the surrounding area. he didn’t think that you could create anything pleasing to the eye in a game where everything is made from cubes, so you’ll need to open his eyes to the fact that he can construct whatever he wants and how the only limit is his creativity. he won’t advance any further than using two different types of woods and including cobblestone, it simply isn’t his strong suit and he would much rather spend his time exploring and slaying his enemies instead.

╰₊✧ he has so many dogs, it’s not even funny, you need to turn down the volume for passive mobs whenever you’re at his base because they are barking nonstop. it’s not intentional either, he just somehow constantly forgets that feeding them makes them breed and can’t ever resist not giving them some steak when they tilt their heads at him. he gave up on naming all of them since he didn’t have enough tags and dying all of their collars after building a separate home for them, but the original ones that he tamed in the wild remain in his bedroom. despite the number of dogs, he refuses to take any of them on adventures with them because he will cry when unnamed number two hundred-something dies after sniffing lava and holds a funeral with a proper burial place.

[nochi-quinn]

campaign 3 episode 38: dice burning party in the parking lot

let's see if I can stay awake this week! 8D

oh matt's gonna be the death of me

"the moment you've all been waiting for" don't speak for me

"my mutant superpower is not knowing what I'm doing" same

I genuinely cannot judge how good or bad matt's accent is, I don't think I've ever heard a good non-native version

excited to see how much of these costumes survive to the end of the episode

especially the gloves, those aren't lasting (or maybe I have second-hand sensory hell)

pike's voice with the gambit eyes sdlkfjsl

matt u should have oiled ur coat

"I'm pretty good at what I do" baking?

alright "what happens if laudna breaks away from delilah" betting pool get ready

I'm gonna cryyyyy

SAM

she does have a pretty good track record, doesn't she

YUP there went the visor off liam

aaand travis' mask

"you deserve to be more than a footnote in delilah's story"

sam

I would have prefered ashton but here we are

"and you loved imogen" sam with the shipper stick

I'm. not okay with this.

sam's characters have a running thread of mental manipulation and I've been cooling on fcg for a while bc of the Enforced Therapy aspect (I don't love the bonded character mechanic either) and just. hnrgh.

I wrote that before the nat 1, too, I just Dislike

[holds a knife on anyone trying to make a joke about laudna's holes]

yeah, LETTERS

ah hell

klsdjflsk

PERCUSSIVE MAINTENANCE

gonna fight matt in a parking lot

CRIES

bonus content for any jean/rogue shippers

vex: get fenthras'd, idiot

oh poor laudna she doesn't know any of these people :(

skdjfslkd trying to use the tablet with the gloves

chetney: GOD WOOD???

o. oh.

chetney

travis

PIKE

"you were just Dead"

you are not immune to vex'ahlia de rolo

percival

calm your SHIT percy jesus christ

lays in the floor

I see you wiping your face travis

TREE

would laudna have been one of the ones that thought percy abandoned them or was she too young to have Opinions

or would she have like. heard stuff from her parents. I know what I'm trying to say

"fight with obann" wrong campaign matt

"this gets to be real now" lays in the floor harder

she just starts whaling on the tree

crIES

this child for new party member

"there are kids who are never gonna know" I AM ALREADY CRYING YOU CAN STOP NOW

let laudna talk to the tree

THIS WORKS TOO

laudna 🤝 keyleth

tree aesthetic

I'm gonna stuff this man in a locker istg

I love her

A Keyleth Thing

keyleth is canonically their crunchy granola friend

group hug at the sun tree

chetney

sun tree: consent please

DO IT

orym: it's weird, none of us really understand

percy we will make you admit you love your friends if it kills all of us

percy: they're YOUR guests

laura and marisha are killing me

orym is likking me

FEARNE DO NOT PICKPOCKET THE CLERIC

they get chased out of whitestone and have to wait three in-game days to go back

…I just remembered Pike's cousins, this is not new to her

fcg has a flesh nose now

YESSS I was hoping for this

YEAH YEAH HELL YEAH

YEAH YEAH YEAH

permapate

"exposure therapy" dsklfjs

the newly refurbished chamber that was once Briarwood

why do I feel like we just heard part of every pitch meeting travis and sam had with the cartoon

percy shut the fuck up you never liked any of them

DOTYYYYYY

doty my beloved

MAKE LITTLE MISTER A GUN

a 21 HAS to do it

"this is how planet of the apes started"

scattershit

manners my beloved

fond flashbacks to dariax rubbing it on his gums

I just keep being distracted by how fking pretty laura is

where's scanlan, get your ioun ass in here

SAM

the pleather claps sdklfjs

okay look this is a very niche intersection of my interests but I'm picturing percy rolling up to the cerberus assembly like old bruce in batman beyond when he was getting his company back from derek powers

"how are you holding up?" "with a cane."

one shot that's just sam being tary and fcg

no dm only torment

scanlan shows up too

ashton

no one hates percy more than taliesin

"I just feel bad for him"

"thank you never mind go to bed"

chetNEY

oh I'm gonna CRY

I know a full Vox Machina Plot Rundown is impractical but part of me wants them to explain things to laudna

WAIT

IS IT

CRIES FOREVER???

f e a r n e

"get down here" "nO-"

"I start to give him a noogie but it hurts"

I love these fucking dorks so fucking much

they all react to the lights every time, I love it

I just noticed sam has veth's tattoo drawn on

57 things caught fire during break, I just got back

everybody's coats and gloves are off but liam's visor is back on

"we're on the moon, bitch"

wait until they find out what keyleth did UNDER the sun tree

do iiiiit

gay

oh there goes the visor again

Lady Laudna

"are you really doing this"

MCCOUGHNATREE LET'S GO

that voice + matt's getup is. something.

fearne: come here often?

trAVIS

"when they put up a new moon"

sun tree consent CANON

"I mean not the LORD" fuck you sam I was drinking soup

FUCK YOU MATT

LIKE JUST IN GENERAL

quick bring dorian back and install him in eshteross' place

NOT THAT HE'S DEAD

WE DON'T KNOW HE COULD JUST BE A SLOW START IN THE MORNING

"my face can't move!"

sdklfjsl matt flicking a card at sam

HORSE

"if you wind it the wrong way it DOES explode"

whats-his-face de rolo

laura fully distracted by the horse (valid)

OH YEAH rip podcast listeners

GILMORE?

fcg fuck off I want to see gilmore

taliesin's latent percy ego

do I get to hear matt gilmore again???

"I wasn't gonna let this not happen" thank you for your service taliesin

;-;

dangit I thought it was at least the husband

no I want a shopping episode

"shaun or nothin"

there's a WHOLE HOUR left what in hell

not the full name dlkfjsl

MATT

"what if he gets hurt?" "I can bring him back!" "no, don't!"

chetney phases through the door

matt

matthew

why blood odd

something something tf2 dead ringer

I need a tweest

what is the tweest

FINALLY

THIS BITCH

don't squish him!!

"how bad can it be" sunken tomb

"it opens" "and I die"

don't read that man's mail

(I know they're gonna have to read the mail)

;-;

TRAVIS

SIR

taliesin: hide that shit right now

BODEH

I feel like this is the least respectful major NPC death ever

thank you for ignoring the button travis

NOW get dorian

at least TELL dorian

[willowbird]

For the prompt thing, could you do 2 for au, 4 for trope and 5 for prompt with andreil?

Hogwarts au, meet messy, "you have the emotional capacity of a brick"

Dearest anon, how did you know that I have been literally aching for an excuse to do something with a hogwarts au?

For context, because idk if I'll be able to explain it in the ficlet, Andrew and Aaron have been raised by their real father, Joseph Minyard, and his wife, Betsy Dobson, since the twins were seven. Andrew instinctively retaliated against an abuser with magic when he was in foster care, bringing him to the attention of whatever the US's ministry of magic is called (I forgot). They found his dad, who is a British wizard, and also discovered Aaron's existence. The twins, upon meeting each other and finding out they were wizards, chose to stay together and go with their dad rather than risk potentially being separated in whatever system the US magic people has for orphaned magic kids.

(look, I've been thinking about this A LOT okay?)

The following scene would take place the summer before the twins' fifth year. They are fifteen, Kevin is sixteen, Neil is fourteen.

Please be aware that all these characters are a lot younger and significantly less traumatized. I mean, shit still happened to them, but they all get rescued from their abusive home lives a lot earlier than in canon.

---

Andrew Minyard had lost a bet.

It was a really shitty bet, and Andrew should have known at the time that he was being fucking set up. But, well - what was it that broody fucker always said? Oh. C'est la vie. Or something. Whatever.

Point being, Andrew made a stupid bet and then he lost and it was really his own damn fault. Now he was stuck going to stupid Kevin Day's stupid house to play stupid broom-ball over summer break when he could have been basking in the wonders of muggle efficiency like television and air conditioning. What made it worse was that his mom had been so damn delighted that he was going over to a friend's house, too, and Andrew didn't usually have it in him to smash her hopes and dreams when she was so genuinely happy for him.

So. Here he was, broom in hand (because if he had to do this he was at least going to suffer with the familiarity of his own fucking broom), staring up at obviously haunted creaky old manor house that Day apparently lived in.

"Great," he grumbled to himself. "Just.. great." Andrew did not like ghosts, did not like them one fucking bit. They always wanted to chat you up and had absolutely no respect for personal space.

The longer he delayed, though, the longer Day was probably going to force him to participate in his bullshit "training camp", so Andrew straightened his shoulders and trudged up the cracked stone staircase that lead up the hill to the front door of the house. The very second Andrew had both feet on the dilapidated front porch, one hand reaching for the knocker, the front door began to swing slowly open. You know, as they were wont to do in creepy old ghost-infested houses owned by wizards.

Without waiting for a welcome (because the door fucking opened for him, that was invitation enough), Andrew strolled inside. He didn't even flinch when the door slammed shut behind him.

(Okay, maybe he jumped a little bit. Just a little.)

No one was waiting for him in the foyer, because of course that would be too easy. At least the inside of the house didn't look as abandoned as the outside did. On the contrary, the foyer was well-lit and free dust and cobwebs. It opened up into a round sitting room that looked lived-in rather than haunted, personal affects strewn about here and there in vaguely organized chaos and family pictures on the mantle above the fireplace.

This, Andrew had learned quickly upon his introduction to the magical world about seven or so years ago now, was fairly common when it came to magical families living in and around muggle neighborhoods. Sure, there were wholly wizarding villages, but not a ton of them. Most of the magical community had to coexist or at least peripherally exist with the muggle one. With the work of a couple of charms and a heavy dose of aesthetic, a magical family could live comfortably without the muggles looking too closely - and even if they did look closely, it was the haunted old house at the end of the street so strange things were bound to happen around it, right?

Homey as it may be on the inside, it was still actually haunted, though. Andrew had a good sense about ghostly lairs and this was definitely one of them.

Heaving a sigh, Andrew moved through the sitting room and ventured deeper into the house. The sooner he found Kevin, the sooner he could leave.

The rest of the house, Andrew swiftly found, was an uncanny combination of the haunted image it presented to outsiders and the cozy haven of the front sitting room. The hall leading off the sitting room was normal when you looked down it heading away from the sitting room, but when Andrew looked back over his shoulder it was like looking into something out of a cheap horror film (of which Andrew had viewed many, much to his father and brother's chagrin, but his mother liked to critique them with him).

Andrew checked each door he came across. Some of them were locked. Some opened into perfectly normal coat closets and bathrooms. At least one of them opened onto an actual cemetery where a bunch of ghosts were playing croquet. Andrew quickly shut that door before any of them tried to talk to him.

It was when he came to the staircase, however, that he finally started to get somewhere. Voices could be heard when he hit the first landing, but they completely vanished when tried to move beyond it - either further up the stairs or out into the hall. Turning to inspect the walls, Andrew realized that one of them wasn't actually a wall at all, but an illusion -- his hand right through!

"This is getting ridiculous," Andrew grumbled to himself as he stepped through the goddamn fucking wall.

He found himself in a wide, clean hallway bathed in the bright sunlight that was streaming in from the skylights placed every few feet. From one of the open doors a bit down the hall, Andrew could finally make out the words of what was obviously an argument.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not going to your bloody school, Day?!"

"You can't just not go to school, Neil! The Ministry will have your wand, and then where will you be?"

"Oh come off it, do you really still buy into all that regulatory shit? They can't track me if I'm not a student unless they have an open warrant out on me. I could turn the corner store into a giant anthropomorphic pig that pisses coffee and they wouldn't know it happened until the story hit the local news, and even then they'd have a hard time tracking me down, considering those lazy twats barely even know how to read let alone track a rogue wizard."

"Galloping Gargoyles, Neil. Where in Merlin's name do you come up with this shit."

"It's called an imagination, Day. I was able to foster one while not being indoctrinated into the sheep-brain miasma that is Ministry-approved wizarding society."

This 'Neil' was getting more worked up as he spoke, spitting out his words like he was crafting a very pointed hex. There was the scuff of footsteps and a shadow fell across the hall as someone stepped toward the hall. "I'll be leaving now, thanks. Have fun being institutionally programed to fit the conservative mediocrity."

A larger shadow blotted out most of Neil's. "You can't just go, Neil!"

There was a scuffle, then a short kid wearing oversized robes stumbled into the hall. "Try and bloody catch me then, you lumbering infant of a Bandersnatch!" And then the kid turned and bolted down the hall -- right toward where Andrew had paused to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Now, Andrew was all ready to step aside. This was none of his business, after all. If this mouthy kid wanted to run away and join the circus or something, more power to him. He, also, thought school was a nightmare. But then Kevin stumbled out into the hall and shouted, "Andrew! Block him!"

And, well. Look. This was all fucking Kevin's fault. Kevin and his stupid cross-House quidditch club and his obsession with running drills. It was also Nicky's fault, for forcing them all to go so they could bond or what the fuck ever the purpose was. But Kevin shouted 'block!' and Andrew had spent two years as a beater and one year as a keeper and, well, reflexes kicked in.

He blocked.

Except, he had spent two years as a beater, and he was holding a broom. So.

His arms moved on their own, and it was a mighty, vicious swing. The next second the kid was flat on his back, gasping to try and catch his breath. Kevin loped over on legs too long, shooting Andrew an appreciative grin that Andrew kind of wanted to punch off of him.

"What.. the.. actual... fuck..." the kid - Neil - wheezed from the floor.

Now that he was officially drawn into this mess, Andrew allowed himself to indulge his curiosity and slung his broom up against one shoulder to approach the fallen boy. He felt a little bad (okay, more than a little), so he figured he'd offer him a hand up at least. Except, when he got to the kid and looked down he was shocked to find just about the prettiest boy in the whole Nimue-cursed universe.

(Andrew's gay awakening had happened when he was twelve years old. The keeper of the Gryffindor quidditch team smiled at him and told him he'd make a pretty good beater. Andrew had tried out for his own House team the very next week, and it had all been downhill from there.)

Andrew cleared his throat and opened his mouth to say something cool and unbothered, because that's what you did when you met someone pretty and wanted to impress them. Instead, like the utter dork that he was, he said, "Red hair and a hand-me-down robe? You must be a Weasley."

"What the fuck is a Weasley?" the sharp, pretty boy on the floor shot back through gritted teeth, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

Kevin's obnoxious shadow fell across the both of him and he sighed, putting his hands on his hips. "Don't mind Andrew, he remembers everything he hears and has a tendency to regurgitate random lines from other things when he feels awkward or anxious."

"Don't mind Kevin," Andrew followed up conversationally, "he's an insufferable know-it-all with a tendency to overshare and force people to play stupid broom-ball when they should be having a perfectly air-conditioned summer break."

"You emotionally wound me."

"You have the emotional capacity of a brick, don't try me Day."

Kevin rolled his eyes. Neil honed in on Andrew with eerie intensity. "You have an air-conditioner?"

Aha! Mission accomplished: cute boy impressed.

Andrew smirked. "Yup." He popped the 'p', feeling quite good about himself, his earlier bumble placed in the back of his head where he could obsess about it later.

Neil's narrowed eyes scanned him up and down, then relaxed, the blue of them bright and intelligent. He looked like he was figuring something out about Andrew but Andrew had no idea what or why. It took some effort, but instead of squirming he met Neil's gaze full-on. After a long moment, Neil seemed to have made a decision. He pushed himself up to his feet and nodded. "Alright then. You play quidditch?" He gestured to Andrew's broom with the jerk of his chin.

He hadn't noticed it earlier because he'd been so fascinated with the argument itself, but now that he could focus on Neil's voice, Andrew realized that there was something of about his accent. It wasn't that it seemed fake but more that it... it reminded him of his own, back when he'd been younger and had only been in England for a couple of years. He remembered being teased for it, and getting into a lot of fights because of that. Well, he remembered getting into fights because Aaron was also teased, and no one picked on his brother but him.

"I thought you were going to run off and join the circus." Andrew arched a brow.

Neil wrinkled his nose. "No. I'm still not going to your stupid castle school." He paused and looked from Andrew to the broom back over to Kevin and sighed. "But... one or two games of quidditch before I go can't hurt."

Kevin looked overjoyed. He grinned at Andrew and Andrew supposed that they really must be friends now, because he felt quite pleased about that.

"Great!" said Kevin. "Let's go! We should be able to get in some warm-up rounds before the others get here!"

"Others?" Andrew and Neil said with identical inflections of disdain. The sound of an echo startled the both of them and the looked at each other. Then, Neil smiled.

Andrew supposed a day without AC playing stupid broom-ball wasn't so bad after all.

Fun little prompt things

[marjansmarwani]

Trouble Will Come

11.6k || ao3

Ever since TK had been caught up in Austin's latest serial bomber's attack, Carlos has thrown himself into looking for the mysterious bomber. He had watched his boyfriend almost die at the hands of this maniac, and he needed to do everything he could to make sure that never happened again. It makes him feel better, helps to counteract the helplessness he felt in that moment.

What he didn't expect was to actually find him, and to be trapped with him and a bomb in another abandoned factory. Now he just wants to make it out alive, because he is pretty sure TK will find a way to kill him if he doesn't.

--- Sequel to Trouble Will Not Take Me

I ended up rereading this today and decided to repost it because I don’t think I ever got around to making a masterpost of the chapters when I first finished it and just because I really like it and we could always use some more Carlos fic. So enjoy this shameless bit of self-promotion and a reminder of an older fic in lieu of anything new since I am still fighting my way through some writer’s block. 

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

“Wow,” Mya deadpanned as they pulled up to a dilapidated abandoned factory building, “you take me to the nicest places.”

“Next time we have a serial bomber I’ll be sure to mention to him that he should aim for sites that are more aesthetically pleasing,” Carlos replies drily, already unbuckling his seatbelt.

“I’m just saying, would it kill us to not have chosen the place on the list most likely to give us tetanus by just looking at it?”

Carlos merely shrugged in response because honestly, he couldn’t disagree with her. It had been just over two weeks since Austin’s most recent serial bomber made his big splash by blowing up a building with firefighters inside. It had been only been two years since the last bomber and everyone was on edge. The memory was fresh enough that the majority of the police department had been there, had watched the last bombings unfold. To see it happen again didn’t sit well with anyone, especially Carlos. He had vivid memories of the last time, of the fear and uncertainty that had reigned over the city. This time he had his own fears to add to the pile; his own nightmares to haunt his days. It had been the 126 who responded to that call, it had been TK and Marjan trapped inside the last building when it exploded. That had been 15 days ago, and every day since APD had poured a significant amount of its resources into identifying likely targets and patrolling them regularly. Carlos had been volunteering for every shift - this case was personal.

He still saw TK’s limp and battered body being pulled out of the collapsed building every night when he closed his eyes. The first few nights, when TK had still been in the hospital, he had resisted going home because he knew he wouldn’t sleep anyways. Even now, weeks later, he still had those dreams; still woke up in a cold sweat. Only the presence of TK besides him, soundly sleeping and breathing and alive was enough to calm him. So yeah, maybe he was taking this one a little personally.

Fortunately, Mya was completely on board. She had been right by his side the entire way: in the waiting room of the hospital, in their sergeant’s office volunteering for extra shifts. He hadn’t even had to ask her. The first day he showed up to work, once TK had finally been out of the woods, she had materialized in front of his desk. “They’re going after this guy,” she had said, “I want in and I am sure you do too.” He had barely had time to nod before she was leading them to the sergeant’s office.

It was times like this he was so grateful for his partner. She was a force to be reckoned with on a regular day, and she cared just as much about TK as she did for Carlos. To say she was feeling spiteful would be an understatement: “If some asshole bomber thinks they’re going to almost crush my friend to death and get away with it, they’ve got another thing coming,” she had said fiercely.

Carlos almost felt bad for this mysterious bomber - almost.

That didn’t change the fact that this was the 12th abandoned building they had checked out this week and while it certainly wasn’t the gnarliest building they had been in, it wasn’t winning any home and garden awards.

“Just think,” he said as they drew closer, “if we ever decide to give up this whole cop thing, we’ll have a jump start on real estate to enter the haunted house business.”

“I know you’re joking, but that’s honestly not the worst idea I’ve heard.”

Carlos shook his head fondly, “You ready to do this, again?”

Mya nodded, “Twelfth time’s the charm, right?”

“We can only hope,” he muttered as the entered the structure. “Structure” may even be a generous term for it; there didn’t seem to be much standing. They looked around the entry: it appeared to have been a lobby of some sort at one time and it opened up into two diverting hallways. “Looks like we’re splitting up. Do you want left or right?”  

“I’m feeling left today. Be careful though, will you? Wouldn’t want you getting into trouble without your partner to watch your back.”

“You too. Radio if you find anything?”

“Always.” With a quick salute, Mya was off, disappearing down the hallway to the left. Carlos quickly followed suit and entered the other hallway. It was dark and quiet. He pulled out his flashlight and looked around. It looked like your typical, nondescript, dilapidated hallway - just like the other eleven they had searched that week.

Still, it warranted a cursory investigation. If only to cross it off the list, to eliminate another possible location. The reigning theory at the precinct currently is that the bomber had been scared off by what had happened with the last bomb. The only casualties of the first four bombs had been the buildings themselves. Never before had there been victims of the bombs, and only luck and talented medical professionals had prevented there from being any fatalities. Normally Carlos would have been grateful and left it at that. But TK had almost died - Carlos had thought he was dead for several heart-stopping moments. He wasn’t over it, and he was bringing that baggage with him. Logically he knew that he should have recused himself from the case, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He needed to be a part of this, he needed to know he had done everything he could to bring this maniac to justice.

It was coping, he supposed.

He continued down the hallway, shining his flashlight into the dark corners. He moved carefully, keeping his eyes moving and his ears open. He froze as he heard a sound up ahead. It was probably just an animal, or a piece of the crumbling ceiling falling, but Carlos was still on high alert as he turned the next corner. He frowned when he saw a weak light cutting through the surrounding darkness. He moved towards it. It was a lantern, shining dimly on a makeshift table. The rest of the table was covered with paper and blueprints. Carlos could feel his heart rate increase - this was it. This was the work of the bomber they had been tracking. He went to reach for his radio, to tell Mya that he had found something, to tell her they had the guy and to get here now; but it was then that he realized he had made his first mistake.

“What are you doing here?” a harsh voice behind him demanded.

Carlos froze - hand hovering just above his radio. He slowly turned around to find a middle-aged man with a scraggly beard, wild eyes, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and a gun pointed at him. He slowly raised his hands up in surrender, even as he cursed at himself.

He had forgotten to clear the room. He had made a rookie mistake and had let this guy get the drop on him. Now there was a gun pointed at him and he was in deep shit.

He spoke slowly and evenly, even as his heart thudded in his chest, “My name is Carlos Reyes, I am an officer with the Austin Police department. I was investigating a report of suspicious activity at this location.”

The man continued to glare at him, “Are you here alone?”

Carlos shook his head, “No, my partner is here too. She’s on the other side of the building.”

The man didn’t say anything to that, he simply looked around Carlos, towards the table. Carlos cursed himself silently. He had moved the papers and blueprints around; it was clear that he had seen them. The man clearly came to the same conclusion as his expression had grown darker as he looked back at Carlos. There was silence for a few long moments before he spoke, “This needs to be done, you can’t stop me.”

Carlos swallowed, but took care to keep his expression even, “Why does it need to be done?”

The man scowled at him, “No questions. Just, keep quiet until I figure out what to do with you.”

Carlos nodded, and the room lapsed into silence. His mind was racing, trying to find a way out of this that didn’t involve a bullet in his head. He didn’t know if this man would actually use that gun he had pointed at Carlos, but it was safer to assume that he would - which took all plans of action off the table. Trying to talk him down would be his best bet, but he was still too on edge from the unexpected appearance of Carlos to start pressing his luck by breaking his mandated silence so soon.

They stood at an impasse, silently staring each other down until the sound of Carlos’s radio sliced through the heavy silence.

His radio beeped and Mya’s voice broke the tense silence, “I just finished my sweep, a whole lot of nothing - again. I’m heading back to the entrance - you done yet?”

Carlos didn’t move. He maintained his eye contact with the strange man, and spoke slowly, “That’s my partner; she’s wondering where I am. If she doesn’t hear from me she’s going to start looking and then you’ll have two of us messing up your plans. Can I respond to her?”

“Tell her to leave.”

“Okay, I’m reaching for my radio to do that,” Carlos slowly lowered his right hand to reach for his radio, heart hammering in his chest. He switched it on and responded, taking care to make sure that his voice was even, “Negative Officer Esquilin, proceed to the next location without me.”

He released the button and took a deep breath. He desperately hoped that she would be able to read between the lines. Somewhere between the formality and the fact that there was no next location, he had faith she’d figure it out. She was smarter than he was, after all.

When her response came, it was much more clipped than usual, “Please confirm last transmission Officer Reyes, you will be staying on scene?”

“Affirmative, Officer Esquilin.”

“Has there been any progress on our current objective?”

Carlos looked back up at the man in front of him, “Affirmative.”

There was a pause, a several second delay before Mya spoke again. When she did, she had dropped the pretense, “Carlos Reyes, you do not get to do something stupid without me.”

“Just get out of here, please.”

“I am not going anywhere! If you think for one second I am going to leave you behind you have clearly not been paying attention!”

The man in front of him put out his hand, “that’s enough, hand it over.”

Carlos clenched his radio one more time, “I’m sorry, Mya.”

Then he unstrapped his radio and tossed it to the other man. Even as it sailed across the room, he could still hear Mya’s voice coming through it, calling him all sorts of things. Her words were jumbled, but heavy with fear.

“Reyes if you die on me I swear to god I’m going to—“

Whatever threat she was making was cut off by a foot smashing his radio.

“I can’t have all that noise,” the other man said irritability, “I have to focus.”

He slid the duffel bag off his shoulder onto the ground between them. He slid down the zipper and pulled it open,  revealing a mess of wires and mechanics that Carlos could only assume was a bomb.

Maybe it wasn’t but given how today was going, he wasn’t too hopeful.  

Well, he thought wryly as he stood in a crumbling room of an abandoned building with a gun leveled at his chest; at least he had found the bomber.

[read the rest on ao3!]

[dominusfero]

I see you want to do a self-ship challenge and can't choose between David, Daniel, and Jasper. I dare you to do all three.

Okay.

1. 

David: His personality, his long arms perfect for hugging and his gorgeous smile

Daniel: His beautiful eyes, his talent at violin/fiddle, his charisma

Jasper: His humor (no doubt he’s a memer), he’s got the cuddliest bod, his sense of fashion (as horrible as it may be, it’s amazing to me)

2. 

David: My baking skills. I love baking and I’m betting David has a serious sweet-tooth. We always have too many cookies, cakes, brownies in the house.

Daniel: I have magic hands (not NSFW, I took massage classes). I always manage to melt the tension out of his back and neck muscles, and he becomes a puddle when I do his thighs and feet. He’s very tense.

Jasper: (Not revealing my gender but--) Jasper likes my body, but not in a creepy way. He likes every little minor thing about my body, from my own scars to the heart shaped birthmark on my inner thigh. Plus, he says I’m soft.

3.

Since we all live together, it’d be a bunch of different pets. Daniel gets his own pet rat called Snowflake, Jasper and I share a little Dasypeltis named Scramble, and David has a German Shepard that we call Kino.

4. Raised ranch with a pool, big veggie garden and a nice patio. Stuck between bordering on a forest for the animals or set in a giant field so Jasper and I can go ATVing.

5. Do I need to? David and Daniel are both adults, their voices won’t change. Jasper’s, however, is definitely deeper than it was as a child. My best guess is: he sounds exactly like Griffin McElroy.

6. Everyone assumes it’s David, but really, it’s Daniel. He’s only ever known the forced version of love due to the brainwashing, never genuine. The first time I hugged him and he hugged back, I ended up falling asleep because he wouldn’t let me go.

7. Also Daniel. Romantically, I think it’s rooted in potential abandonment issues / possessiveness but it’s never egregious. Any other kind, it’s the same reason why David gets jealous: absurd competitiveness. Can’t ever be the worst at something, otherwise it’s Tantrum Time. Fortunately, kisses make this go away.

8. 

David: Counting Stars by One Republic (country-ish vibe fits with his aesthetic)

Daniel: The whole of “Love Like You” by Rebecca Sugar

Jasper: Blackout by Breathe Carolina (Party vibes man)

9. Yes! Okay, so the guys change all the time but I’m usually in the middle (or close to it). Daniel is a clingy s.o.b. If he isn’t latched onto me, it’s either David or Jasper. I always end up in somebody’s arms, though. It’s really nice. Jasper’s chest hair tickles.

10. 

David: One jab in the ribs and he squirms and squeals like a child

Daniel: Dude has 0 resistance to the tickles. I do not understand.

Jasper: A fucking rock (pun intended). He feels nothing.

Me: Ehh...kinda? I don’t think so.

11.

David

12.

We’re thinking of somewhere either in southern Italy or, if we had to stay domestic, probably New Orleans, Louisiana for the cuisine and culture.

13.

David: Forest cottagecore wedding

Daniel: Believe it or not, he wants a fairytale theme complete with toadstool cupcakes, pastel colored lights and simple grassy vibes. He likes the fantasy aspect of it because it feels so freeing.

Jasper: He’s stuck between Star Wars and an 80s bowling alley theme.

Me: Beach wedding so I don’t have to wear fancy clothes. Just a white swimsuit so I can go swimming right after.

14. Yeah, but the amount changes depending on who you ask. David wants two: one boy, one girl. Daniel, coming from a rather large family, wants no less than four and prefers boys. Jasper says he’s cool with one, has his fingers crossed for a girl but says if we end up with a boy, that’s just as dope.

15.

Daniel is the poet, Jasper is the cheesy love song writer.

16.

I guess my affection comes out in my cooking, but I also just snuggle/cuddle the fuck outta my boys.

David, for sure, is grand gestures. Flowers sent to work, buying candy/snacks when you’ve had a bad day, etc.

Daniel is more subtle, like meticulously folding the laundry or organizing your messy ass desk so you can actually find shit or tuning the guitar.

Jasper shows his love through bad puns and lots of hugs.

17.

To David: On cheek, forehead, lips

From David: My nose because he thinks it’s funny

To Daniel: On the back of his neck because it makes him weak in the knees

From Daniel: Knuckles because he’s a gentleman

To Jasper: His tum is fun because it makes him laugh but his lips are so much better

From Jasper: Wherever he can get to, he does not discriminate

18.

Since there’s four of us, we cuddle in a big pile on our lovely, humongous bed. Or in a pile split between the couch and floor while watching TV or movies.

19.

David: If he’s near somewhere to sit, I grab him from behind and pull him down and force him either into my lap or on top of me. Then I hold him until he feels less crappy. Kisses are involved.

Daniel: I brew him a cup of his favorite tea, give him a kiss and shoulder rub.

Jasper: He’s easy. Sneak up on him and squish a whoopie cushion with a straight face. Or kick open the door to wherever he is after blasting the Monsters Inc. Opening Meme track.

Me: I don’t have too many bad days but I do, being around my boys is enough to fix my mood on its own. But for those days when it isn’t, my boys usually make me some kind of fix-it meal (that usually isn’t very good but I ain’t gonna say anything).

20.

David: Gardening, well, veggie gardening. We love hoe-ing around together.

Daniel: Drawing and writing together. Daniel writes poetry and I design covers and illustrations to go along with it.

Jasper: Video games and meme sharing / making

21.

David: He took me out to this nice little hidden oasis deep in the mountains of the forest and we gazed at the stars. He started talking about something relating to the area we were in, but I fell asleep on him. Literally, we were laying down and I was on his right side and fell asleep with my face in his chest.

Daniel: We binged a bunch of horror movies and spent the night laughing at the stupid ways people died (or let themselves be killed). It was fun!

Jasper: I whooped his ass in Mario Kart and then we played Minecraft. I accidentally (not really) blew up his house.

22.

Camp (I was working for Camp Corp. and was sent to relay marketing information and a potential budget for the coming year, as well as mockup any infrastructure changes that may need doing)

23.

Daniel, though I will cut a bitch if anyone hurts my boys in any way. Daniel will actively murder, though, so we try not to let that happen.

24. 

YES

I miss my boys so much! David cries a lot and it hurts me in every conceivable way.

Ask me a freebie, I’ll answer it!

[k-writer1998]

Game of Love

Prompt fic: best friend! Felix x gender neutral! reader

fluff

w.c: 1.3k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Felix… can you come pick me up?"

      I didn't think my voice would've sounded so broken when it came out, but it did, and by the sound of his voice dropping down a level, he was pissed. After hanging up the phone I anxiously waited for my best friend in the plaza I was supposed to be meeting my date. Except they didn’t show… at least, not for our date. It shouldn’t hurt when it was just our second date but what could I say? I’m a hopeless romantic who continually sets themselves up to be heartbroken because you fall for the idea of “what if” with that person. Dropping my head I tried my best to blink back the tears that were fighting to escape my eyes. I was so stupid to think it would be different this time- no. I need to stop thinking about this before I start crying in the middle of a crowd… yeah let’s not, I think I’ve given Felix enough of a scare already. Thankfully I was getting back the control of my emotions just as my phone began to buzz with a call from Felix.

“Hey Lix…”

“I’m here, where are you?”

      I looked around for a familiar tuft of blonde in the crowd as I listed off the things around me. The minute I spotted my best friend’s worried face and our eyes connected, I gave him a sad smile that turned to a pout as the second wave of emotions hit. I couldn’t help it, Felix is my safe place. Seeing the change in my face he rushed over and pulled me into a hug which I returned, a defeated chuckle passing through my lips.

"I'm trying not to cry y'know."

"Where did they go?"

"No Lix you are NOT going to do whatever you think you want to do," I rolled my eyes as I pulled away and gave him a pointed look.

"And why not? They hurt you."

"Well one, it isn't worth it and two, it was my fault for getting ahead of myself."

"Hey, it's not your fault and don't you dare think otherwise,” he bent down to eye level to make sure I understood him. When he was content he stood tall again and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, “C'mon let's get out of here."

      We stopped by a restaurant to grab takeout before we ended up at my apartment. Felix’s was technically closer but I wasn’t in the mood to put on an act for his roommate Chan. After eating we played some video games, I just needed the distraction even if that distraction means losing in Smash Bros seventy-five percent of the time. Once I got tired of losing, I laid down with my legs dangling over the back of the couch and my head resting on Felix's shoulder. He continued to play and I was thankful that he stayed. That was the thing with us, we just know what the other person needs whether it be talking or just each other's presence. There was a strange comfort to that plus he knew that when I was ready I would talk. Being left to my thoughts, there was a lot stewing in my mind about today’s events which connected to past failed love expeditions that all came to the same conclusion. With no answer in sight I let out a groan hoping my dear best friend had an answer to this question.

“What is the point of playing a game that is made to make you lose?”

“What game? I told you Smash isn’t made for you to lose, you just need to pick a character to main so-”

“Not Smash Bros Lix, I’m talking about the big game of love,” I exaggerate by throwing my arms up… although he doesn’t see it anyways because my arms were behind his head.

“Why would you say that? Love isn’t all that bad, I’ve played video games that are harder.”

“Well you’ve seen my track record, it’s atrocious.”

“You wanna know why you keep losing?”

      At this I sit up and stare at my best friend’s head, my interest thoroughly piqued. His initial statement also did the job since he wasn’t one for romance. I mean, he’s dated before but he always seemed to just go with the flow when it came to relationships. I don’t think he’s ever talked about a crush…  

“You know why relationships never work out for me and are only choosing to tell me now? What the hell Felix? Of course I do.”

“It’s like I just told you, you keep choosing the wrong character to play.”

“I- okay gamer boy, you lost me. Noob terms please.”

“You keep going for the wrong guy you dork.”

“Why does it sound so matter of fact? Isn’t that how dating works? What? Do you have the perfect guy who won’t disappoint or hurt me hiding somewhere secret?” I roll my eyes.

“Well he’s not hiding and it’s not really a secret he likes you.”

“Wait what? Who likes me? I don’t know anyone who likes me.”

“Why do you have to be so dense?” He lets out a tense chuckle before adding in, “It’s me, y/n.”

      My mouth dropped into an “O” as realization hit me like a truck. He still played the game with his back facing me but once my cognitive functions came I rounded the coffee table and stood in front of the tv, blocking the screen. Abandoning the game and getting shy, he ducked his head away from my gaze as he made the little awkward noises he makes when he gets flustered.

“Is this why you’ve never talked with me about your crush?”

“I just confessed to you and that’s what you ask?”

“I’m still processing that sir, but my question.”

“Yes, it would be hard to talk to my crush about my crush,” he rolled his eyes before adding, “bet you still wouldn’t get the hints even if I did though.”

“Rude!”

“Y/n-”

“Ah!”

      I cut him off as I moved to sit beside him. I’ve used my dumb antics the stall long enough for me to somewhat get my thoughts together so now its time to be serious. I take a hold of his hand and wait until he looks at me before I speak.

“Felix I’m gonna be honest. The thought of us being together like that never crossed my mind, not to say I don’t find you attractive cause I am very vocal with the fact I find you aesthetically pleasing and I mean yeah there were times you’ve made my heart flutter but I don’t want to accept your feelings on a whim. You deserve better than that.”

      I knew he knew I was flustered, I was rambling for god’s sake. Do you blame me though? I really haven’t thought of him like that but the more I think about it the more I realize that I don’t hate the thought of it like most long term friends do. More so, I kind of like the thought of it… but what if it’s me just being like that because I just had my heart broken? Felix is definitely not rebound. While my mind continued to whir, Felix sat in silence as the weight of my words sank in. It was a few moments before he carefully spoke up.

“So you’re saying I don’t have a chance?”

“I- no. Maybe. I don’t know. I’ve just… the more thought I put into this the more I don’t hate the idea which usually doesn't happen between best friends who don’t have feelings for each other but at the same time I don’t want to tell you right now cause I just got my heartbroken by some idiot I’ve only gone on one date with, you know?”

“So you’re saying I’m rebound?”

“Why don’t you get it?! I’m saying you have a chance just maybe give me time to organize my life will you?”

      At my frustrated confession, his puppy face broke into one of probably the most breathtaking smiles he’s ever given me and one hundred percent it made my heart flutter… that is, until he opened his mouth.

“I got it, I just wanted to hear you say it again.”

“LIX! You cheeky brat!”

[hannigramficrecs]

AU

Provenance by drinkbloodlikewine, whiskeyandspite [words: 62,735]

A delightful AU about a rare book dealer, an owner of a high-end coffee shop, and murder. This does involve Hannibal Lecter, after all.

I Am Not A Morning Person by stratumgermanitivum [words: 14,852]

I Am Not A Morning Person opened at 4:30 AM. Usually. Their menu was obscene and ever changing, and they offered shots of tequila in their coffee to anyone with an ID. Hannibal fell in love with their grouchy baker anyway.

Fruitful by Everett_Harte [words: 11,629]

An AU where they both meet several years before the show, start dating, and get married. And bang, a lot.

Teen Hannibal Ficlets by emungere [words: 10,927]

AU where Hannibal never meets Lady Murasaki and is somehow found by Will Graham and Will raises him instead. As Hannibal gets older he becomes obsessed with Will and so Teen Hannibal tries to seduce Guardian Will who is just like oh god someone save me.

Ticket Pocket by geneticallydead [words: 1,669]

Hannibal needs a new tailor. He finds Will Graham.

Taste by emungere [words: 4,575]

Hannibal is a tailor (and may or may not also be a serial killer) and Will comes to him for a new suit.

Professional Help by xzombiexkittenx [words: 1,969]

There's a stranger in Hannibal Lecter's house, peering out the window through the scope of an L115A3 bolt-action rifle.

Black Rock Mountain by bokunojinsei [words: 23,964]

Will is a hitchhiker with questionable hobbies. Hannibal is a man who has questionable motives. When Hannibal drives by Will who just so happens to need a ride, things quickly take a turn from the questionable to the downright depraved.

Lazy Coffee by lonelywalker [words: 1,104]

The baristas of Baltimore are dropping like flies. Why? Because they just can't get Dr. Lecter's coffee order right, and he's very particular. One day, an awkward young man with "Will" on his nametag changes Hannibal's life.

Page Six by ThisBeautifulDrowning [words: 66,839]

Crime reporter Will Graham's column on page six of the Baltimore Sun garners him the attention of many: fans, hobby detectives, the FBI...and others. Hannibal cut off a piece of meat with surgical precision. “I find your company rather engaging.” “Maybe I don't find you all that engaging.” Silence. Hannibal grinned. “I see that it will take more than one dinner to earn your forgiveness. Challenge accepted.”

How To Save A Life (The Cannibal-Friendly Handbook) by Kittendiamore [words: 3,463]

There’s a man looking up at Will, who has clearly been distracted from - Oh. Throwing limbs into the river. Human limbs. Lovely, he thinks sarcastically. Then he thinks it again because it actually is kind of lovely. The man looks confident. At ease with what he is. He’s kinda hot, too. Or: Will tries to jump off a bridge but ends up offering himself up to a cannibalistic serial killer...as you do.

Never Conquered, Rarely Came by thisisthefamilybusiness [words: 3,242]

Will is in an abusive relationship but can't see a way out - he's tried to leave before, but his partner is in law enforcement and always manages to track him down while pretending to be the understanding, forgiving, loving type. One day, Will stumbles across an ad in the Classifieds of the cleverly worded cannibal-seeking-fresh-meat-but-veiled-as-private-cooking-classes type, and decides to answer. Hannibal is pleased when his ad bears fruit, then surprised when his intended dinner apparently knows exactly what he's in for

Triage by ErisPhoenix [words: 5,469]

Cop Will and ER doctor Hannibal

The Ripper and the Black Dog by HigherMagic [words: 16,249]

A 'Mr & Mrs Smith' Hannigram story.

Money Where Your Mouth Is by OneWhoSitsWithTurtles [words: 3,792]

Will Graham is a dancer in a strip club trying to earn enough money to pay rent when he catches the attention of Hannibal Lecter, a man and a predator willing to pay any price for what he wants.

Late Shift by Sugarmouse [words: 4,307] 

Hannibal is nearing the end of his shift in the ER when one of the students makes a mistake with the dog bite victim in room four.

Our Stars are the Same by beforethedawn, ConstructFairytales, Destinyawakened [words: 42,578] 

Someone's moved into the old creepy, supposedly haunted, mansion down the way from Will Graham and his family. Will never expects to befriend the new family's son.

Moorings Built on Sand by beforethedawn, ConstructFairytales, Destinyawakened [words: 100,289] 

Will and his dad are moved to Germany for the foreseeable future and Will is surprised when he befriends a boy a few years older than him who seems to be mute.

Fix All My Broken Things by xstarxchaserx [words: 16,177]

When Will is introduced to Dr. Hannibal Lecter, the psychiatrist is only supposed to be a client for him, just a couple of small repair jobs and nothing more. Will isn't prepared to fall headfirst into feelings, operas, and murder, but there's something lurking behind Hannibal's cool facade. When Will discovers it, his entire life will change.

The New Boy by TigerPrawn [words: 11,904] 

(Hannigram + Spacedogs High School AU) Nigel recently moved to a new school after being kicked out of the last five he'd attended. He just wants to keep his head down and get through senior year so his parents will let him work in their profitable family business. When he's asked to play guide to another new student - strange little Adam Raki - he thinks he might have found help in passing his classes. If he can keep his mind on his studies around his new friend...

I'll Will My Wild Eyes Bright by HigherMagic [words: 24,398] ]

"You would do well to remember that people like you are best seen and not heard," Mason says sharply. "Our new friend is far less forgiving than I am, if the rumors are even half true." Will nods, and resists the urge to pet over his face and wipe Mason's scent away. "I want you to kill him, Will. Whatever it takes. Will you do it?" "Of course, Your Majesty," Will replies, nodding. "I am your humble servant."

Ero̱totropía by drinkbloodlikewine, whiskeyandspite [words: 49,243] 

Will is 16 when he finds himself given to an older man to be mentored and apprenticed in the art of war and horsemanship. It is traditional, and all would be well, had Will not run his mouth to this particular general in the public baths not several hours earlier...

The Aesthetics of Pleasure by exarite [words: 2,056]

Hannibal Lecter did not watch porn. If he did, though, it would certainly explain why the man waiting in line with him looked incredibly familiar.

Out of Order by HigherMagic [words: 7,346]

Hannibal's car breaks down on a long road in the middle of West Virginia. In his quest to seek help, he ends up at an abandoned gas station, with a little house and a large barn. Living there is a man, Will Graham, who offers to take a look at his car and drive him to the next town so he has a place to stay. Hannibal cannot resist digging into Will's mind and personal life during the drive, learning that Will teaches remotely for the FBI, and in particular, lectures on the Chesapeake Ripper.

The One That Got Away by whatacunningboy [words: 4,694] 

Hannibal Lecter had this macabre air to his name. Everyone knew who he was and in what he specialized in—assassination was his trade and no one questioned it. He could make anyone disappear with a simple trick or two. He never missed a target, he was quiet, and swift. Yet, he missed the biggest target of all.

Ethics & Aesthetics by fragile-teacup [words: 106,330]

Pride and Prejudice omegaverse AU

Inconvenient by fragile-teacup [words: 69,621] 

England, April 1815. Hannibal Lecter, the third Earl of Raven, gets more than he bargained for when accepting a bet from a desperate man leads to him being saddled with the man's dilapidated estate - and son. Will Graham is eighteen, hot-headed, and unnervingly intriguing. As for Will, the idea of having to spend time with the person whom he holds responsible for his father's untimely death is anathema. And yet, when circumstances leave him with no other choice, he is forced to adapt. It does not help matters that Hannibal Lecter is most annoyingly attractive...

4 (25/25)

[silence-burns]

Please Hate Me //part 27

Fandom: Marvel 

Summary:  Based on “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine​

Loki dipped a soft brush in the powder again, using it with deadly precision. 

"It's going to take you a week," you noticed while painting the nails on his other hand. 

"It will be a week well-spent then," he said, barely moving his lips. He had nice cheekbones, but they could always look nicer.

"Only if you use more glitter. You promised." 

"The silly bet you insisted on only covered the part of using 'some' glitter. There was no word specifying the amount or placement." 

You looked at your work. Loki had really nice hands, and the deep green polish you found seemed to be a perfect choice. You were sure it would match the suit he chose from the seemingly bottomless (and actually enchanted) bag that now laid near the bed in your room. If only, of course, he would hurry up and put it on. 

He must've noticed your impatience in the mirror. You were sitting on the edge of the bathtub in the tiny confines of your bathroom, and it would be very hard for Loki not to see you from so close. 

"We'd have more time if I didn't have to fix your face first." He pointed the brush at you accusingly. 

"My face was just fine." 

"Except for that marvelous bruise on your jaw. And that scratch on your brow. We surely wouldn't raise any questions if we went there looking beat up." 

"I told you the glitter would fix it and it did." You appraised your looks in the mirror, pushing Loki away. "The more glitter the better."

"It's not—" 

"The best time for glitter is everyday and the second best time is now! Embrace that simple truth, you coward." 

"...that literally makes no sense."

But he'd rather run his throat dry than successfully explain that to you, so Loki didn't bother. Besides, surprisingly, he wasn't as frustrated as he would usually get at this point. 

The hand wielding the brush stilled for a moment. It was a shame his mind didn't, and instead jumped to a few very far-fetched conclusions and realisations that hit him like a punch to the gut. 

Sure, he had spent a lot of time with you lately, and it actually wasn't that bad and he enjoyed quite a few moments, but to think that, maybe, just maybe, there was a tiny, unthinkable possibility that he… 

A sense of dread filled him, and a shiver ran down his spine. 

Nope. 

He'd think about that some other time. Right now, he had to look his absolute best, and that was something worth focusing his whole attention on. 

With a sigh you didn't know the source of, he put down the brush you 'borrowed' along with a few other handy items. He had no idea what the fake face the filthy enchantment put on him looked like, but the one he was seeing in the mirror was absolutely marvelous. Loki carefully combed through his hair, noticing a few glittering speckles that he was sure weren't there just moments ago. 

He sent you a knowing glare, but it didn't seem to work. He must've fallen out of practice. 

"You're really good at all that," you gestured to the cosmetics. "There's no sign I got my ass beaten only a few days ago." 

"Of course I am,” He said. "You have no idea how many times it has saved me from trouble." 

"Oh, do tell," you grinned, fanning your hand over his drying polish. 

"Let's just say that trying to convince a few unfriendly beasts being held at the stables to have a good time in the gardens where a feast was being held was definitely worth it."

You looked at the brushes and pencils. "I don't see the connection." 

"Altering your appearance through magic can be detected. But changing your features temporarily using means that can be wiped clean in a few seconds—well, that's a different story." 

Loki smiled a little at the distant memory. He remembered the feast very well, as he did the warrior whose name it was being held for. Said warrior was often posted with other guards near the central area of the palace, and he made it very hard to sneak around undetected. Some of the other guards, especially the older ones, at least pretended to look the other way, but he never did. 

Your laugh warmed something in him, but Loki didn't dwell on the feeling. After all, there was a party to crash. 

"How is the boy faring?" he asked while changing a few minutes later. 

"Busy," you said, waiting on your bed. "He's really into that project. I'm pretty sure he wants to impress MJ and that's why he's so… restless. I hope it all goes well."

"Will he be joining us tonight?" 

"No, he wouldn't pass—he's too young, remember? And besides, he'll probably be spending the evening working out the details of his project. He told you that at dinner, didn’t you listen?" 

"My bad."

Loki didn't sound guilty. You weren’t surprised. Still, if he didn't care at all about Peter, he wouldn't ask about him. Someone seemed to be growing a soft spot. 

"Just to make sure," you said, fixing your shoes. "You do remember you have to act like a human for a while? We have to blend into the crowd." 

"Oh dear," Loki opened the bathroom door dramatically. "I shouldn't have showered then." 

You ignored the sarcasm and whistled as you appraised his look. Asshole or not, Loki knew how to dress up. 

"Don't say a word and keep on looking like this and we actually stand a chance of not getting thrown out after five minutes." 

Loki huffed, whipping his hair over his shoulder with a practiced gesture. "I'm a delight. They should be grateful I laid my eyes on that rathole at all."

"I'm sure they will be." 

You linked arms and marched out of the room that had become a little more chaotic in the past hours. It took you a long time to finally put up a look that had both of you satisfied. What clothing didn't make it to the final round, ended up abandoned on various surfaces. 

The evening painted the skies over the city black. As you passed the huge windows, you noticed no snow speckles dancing on the wind. It was a shame from an aesthetic point, but would make the way to the party easier. 

Loki was in an amazing mood—right until the two of you were noticed. 

"Where the hell are you two going this time?" Tony's question echoed in the corridor as he stopped dead in his tracks. 

Bruce was right beside him, with a handful of papers and a coffee, but he stayed quiet. The memories of what had once happened between him and Loki must've still been fresh in his memory from the look on his face. 

"We," you cooed with the sweetest smile you could muster. "Are going to socialize a little." 

Tony blinked. "Over my dead body." 

"That can be arranged," the soft velvet of Loki's voice caressed the unspoken promise. 

There was a part of you (a big one) that wished to see Tony take that one small step for the situation to escalate. An equal part of Bruce, tugging on Tony's sleeve, wanted the precise opposite—and it won. 

Tony pointed a finger at you. "Don't disappoint us."

You laughed and resumed walking with Loki by your side. 

"Trust me, whatever your expectations of us are, we'll best them." 

"...that's what I'm afraid of," was all Tony said, a bitter edge in his voice. 

On any other day, Loki might've laughed at that, but the night was young and full of possibilities that for once didn't bother him much. The arm linked with yours seemed to steady him as much as push him forward. Loki had no talents regarding predicting the future, but for the first time in a while, the unknown didn't bother him. Little seemed to bother him lately, and he enjoyed the feeling. 

You left the building behind you and entered the winter chill. Your steps fell into sync as you entered the snow-covered streets and only then did Loki dare look at you. 

The night was indeed young and full of possibilities. Even ones he was only beginning to realize. 

[resonanteye]

via https://resonanteye.net/horror-movie-reviews-day-one-the-horror-of-everyday-life/

horror movie reviews: day one, the horror of everyday life

a series of reviews, two each day, of horror movies.

day one, movie one: # alive.

1: half the people are crazed and trying to kill the other half of the people, panic and mass casualties, violent infection, etc – yes, it’s 2020-2021 thank you, continue

2: infected people trying to get in and infect people who are quarantined, aggressive mental illness -yes, yes

3: your neighbors are all worse than you ever knew -yes. yes

4: cops eating each other -please do go on

5: oh no several days how will you ever survive with only ramen

two whole days of lockdown

6: so you’re warned to have plenty of food and water, yet you don’t immediately fill up the bathtub at least, or the sinks. and you don’t go into the zombie neighbor’s abandoned apartment to see if there’s food

7: too much tech, not enough walkie talkies. I doubt.

8: I get it, people expect the end of the world to be like, a switch flipped, but no. this shit draaaags forever

9: the golf club is reminiscent of funny games. maybe an intentional nod to his change in mental state

10: slapstick!

11: finally, foraging.

12: the Mormons are at the door

13: we have skipped two weeks, without water or food?

14: and finally the lights out- wouldn’t that go before the running water?

15: oh the melodrama. don’t be a moron, but this magical dude has been alive a month without water

16: Kim Yu-bin is keeping track of her shit. I bet he gets her killed. nice waterworld callback with watering the plant.

17: of course he’s that stupid, he’s the protagonist and you’re a competent woman in a movie. how else would it justify you endangering yourself for him?

18: oh, wait. he HAS water? from where?

19: finally the tech is worth a damn. and she’s feeding him, which is ok because yes helping each other matters but

20: ok yes the tech is nice, good point, this is a scene from hackers vs zombies. slapstick is fine. zombie big mad. give me back my hand you bastards

21: Jun-u. I had been ignoring his name the entire movie. This is a bad habit of mine with zombie stuff.

22: finally some decent fuckin plot movement. there’s kids, in a good movie he’d have to kill one. instead, a treasure trove of all the survival gear. it’s handy when someone else did the preparation FOR you. I mean damn

23: oooh she’s only alive to help HIM. what a fucking surprise

24: reminds me of the pandemic “share a window” website crossed with a gentle, normal mukbang (not a weird fetish feeder one)

25: the zombies are going hooome. the zombies are going hooooooome

26: ok yes sounds scary, looked scary but it seems like there’s only five of them at her door

27: she’s skilled. of course. melee fighter. I like that this isn’t the dumb-ass slow zombies, nor the superhuman ones. just regular people.

28: another pile up!

29: don’t drink koolaid from strangers, but spam? NO NOT THAT EITHER. of course there will be cannibals in this that aren’t sick, that’s another nice callback (the road) (dead alive). I’m still holding out hope a kid zombie gets killed, although it’s unlikely at this point.

30: holy fuckin generational-divide-monologue for the ages

31: oh damn a gunshot in South Korea.

32: look, Kim, I wasn’t given any backstory for you, but I really want you to outlive “regular dumb guy”. the suicide subplot is going nowhere and we both know it

33: it’s never a good look to be fighting zombie hordes on the stairs. I don’t know why, it just isn’t good. just stay in the damn apartment. please.

34: regular Joe, you are doing the right thing by staying behind, keep that up.

35: FUCK THIS SHITTY APARTMENT

36: finally, machine guns. sorry, I’m American. I’ve been waiting for an hour and a half for logic to set in

37: where are they even going? she’s cooler than him, why isn’t she getting messages? so I guess his Instagram saved her? is that a subversiveon of what I’ve been complaining about? I think it is.

7/10 excellent slapstick, callbacks, just enough humor without ruining the narrative. subversive ending in that he’s only in the movie for the sake of saving her life, and neither died. points deducted for lack of depth to the woman in the film, too much depth for the guy, and for showing us a lack of water then changing that enough to keep someone alive for 20 days. (also, he didn’t even fill up the sink, the hell)

number two, day one: condemned

this movie is about squatting, a lifestyle I’m too familiar with. let’s see how close to the mark it gets. oh, and zombie infection stuff. that too.

1: the supe is always the strangest thing in any building in NYC. always. this isn’t a narrator. this is realism.

2: when will rich kids learn that poverty isn’t an aesthetic? when will something that poor people authentically live through, be safe from commodification and the thievery of the privileged? where does class/cultural appropriation end? why are people using their yacht money on a tiny fuckin house? find out on the next episode of generation x, when we discuss the occup- wait no- this is just a zombie flick. sorry about that

3: I know she’s saying other shit on the phone but all I hear is “the rain was such a blessing”

4: montage is always good with good music over it. going anywhere in the city is basically a montage in reality

5: cigarettes cost 14 bucks in New York holy fuckin shit I’m old

6: ominous: “what could be worse than where you are now”, teens having sex, neon lighting, drainpipe footage, “what difference is a day gonna make”, “I won’t make the same mistake like I did in Vladivostok”

7: this bondage shit on the third floor is giving me a real, serious flashback to a job I did briefly which paid incredibly well. every time these characters show up I have a flashback, every time I watch this.

8: every character in this movie is someone I’ve met. every fuckin one. even cookie. I hate that and love it at the same time. I don’t know if you’ve ever lived in bad beat city but this is accuracy.

9: the glitch hallucination is wonderful. don’t show me people’s bad dreams, though. it’s a waste of film. especially someone’s dream who doesn’t know that squats don’t get the garbage picked up. at least he was gentle about her tourist status. (yes, that was fucking gentle. she’s visiting, but they LIVE there. he’ll show you the life of the mind)

10: the colors in this movie reminds me of Mermaid in a Manhole, an amazing movie itself- this is a compliment

11: yes punk means you puke and say “did you SEE that” yes it does

12: the way sickness spreads in close, unmaintained quarters is accurate too. these old buildings were originally tenements and were notorious for being built in a way that contributed to outbreaks of diseases. ny poverty history

13: the glitch used as stand-in for visual mirage is again amazing and continues to be throughout

14: that walk up all the stairs after a day at work to complain about the horror of everyday life, with a back crack and sore feet.

15: the cops are also accurate

16: the plot takes a nice strong left turn here, and it’s perfection. since the development of the plot cookie was leading us to doesn’t matter to the people in this building, it’s better to truncate it. and then we can get to business.

17: yes. if you die in a squat, you’re getting rolled in a carpet and left blocks away. you’ve got to. nobody’s gonna kill you but nobody’s going to be on the street over your ass either.

18: guitar axe skyline lightning. that may be a summary of the whole movie.

19: absolutely pitch perfect “you ruined new york city” rant for the ages

I used to live there

20: if the building wasn’t shit, this would be a nice Shining callback

21: FAWKKING

22: this movie just will not let you have any expected outcome. it’s brilliant.

23: I’ve lived in a brownstone that had a cellar which connected to every building on the block and beyond. that was in Philly, but the construction of this landscape is perfect.

full disclosure- I own this DVD and have watched it a lot. it’s one of my favorite movies, structurally and visually, and I think it’s one of the best horror movies made this decade.

[raguna-blade]

So thinking bout persona, which as far as this blog is concerned is basically all I do, and I got to thinking.

So the Metaverse/Mementos, Shadow Time/Tartarus and The World in the Tv/Midnight Channel are all basically the same thing right? Not PRECISELY the same thing, but the overlap is immense and real. I'd be willing to bet that the various spinoff games Including Q and such would also count towards this in that they're kinda worlds in the sea of the Unconscious (and with at least Two Users of the Universe Arcana sleeping to keep the world secure right now, who knows what weird funky things are going on there.)

But they're generally the same thing, and part of the rules that are generally established have to deal with perception and one and all seem to exist as a rule in weird liminal spaces.

Forgive for innaccuracies it's been a while for P3 and P4, but with that out of the way.

Tartarus is a transformation of a school, and has strict limitations on how long it is active (not unlike a school really) and not only that is made up of discretely aesthetic but also very uniform locations. The Persona Users only have their one Extra Hour to make their way through (or at least in story that should be the case) and reach their final destination.

Tartarus is, without question, one of the most confusing nosense places because of course it extends up and up and up some 300 floors (apparently) which is weird, but what's perhaps weirder, at least in context of the Persona 3-5 Series of games is that there isn't really an effect upon the users precisely. Oh to be sure it effects people, it changes them into coffins which, considering the Tower's Purpose and all makes sense. The place is all about death and that great change, and the way that persona are summoned via Evoker I suppose would explain their not being coffins. There's an awareness of death there I suppose, and so an additional awareness of this special time given.

Ok. Cool.

The Midnight Channel though, it's a world more or less made up of the endless distorting fog, which alters shape to take the form of those who fall into it's greatest fears and concerns writ large and obnoxious, seemingly in an effort to have them confront themselves. At least, in theory, once the fog lifts, but formed in such a way that almost seems tailor made to have people freak the absolute hell out.

And of course, the place it exists/accessed is a television, turned off at midnight which, frankly is a pretty strange space if you're expecting anything to show up on it, or rather expecting NOTHING to show up on it right?

Everything blown up the way that it is, it makes sense that the world is endlessly foggy, not as stable as it initially appears, and all that, but as to the persona users themselves, they're...more or less just as they are. They're granted glasses by Teddie that allow them to see better, but they are otherwise not fundamentally changed.

Which...Leads us to Mementos. A Place that is explained as not only a direct connect to the sea of the unconscious, a rather different statement from the other major locales even if they too are a direct connection, but it also...changes the persona users.

The liminal space (and this is, I think admittedly, somewhat of a stretch) is more or less just any old random place, but you, distinctly, not a part of it. Well, that's the metaverse as a whole, but Mementos itself is a train station, which tracks as far as I understand the subject. It's a place of coming going, and just an endless sea of people who you really are just kind of one of.

But...Why does it change them so much? It's explained that the form that the phantom thieves take is their form of rebellion against the world. Very literally, the manifestation of their Rebellion (Of which Their Transformed Selves are paired with their Persona's with whom they made a contract).

Alright, that tracks, it's consistent to an extent, but this raises the question of why don't we see that in the other shadow worlds? Part of that, I've said before, is Because I think the Phantom Thieves are more or less playing at their Shadows as opposed to the other Persona Teams. The Shadows that We see in Persona 4 seem to be in line with what we're seeing in the Phantom Thieves, in that they are the version of their relevant person pushed to their extremes and distorted, pushed into a state of otherness for one reason or another.

Not all of them get fancy duds of course, and certainly that's at least as much because of the circumstances of their Shadow's formation (with them being dropped into the situation fully conscious as opposed to just kinda dropped int), as well as the nature and degree of their alienation. I expect that for those who didn't quite get the full transformation, they didn't quite feel that degree of alienation that you see in everyone else that develops a Full Dramatic Shadow.

Or perhaps another way to say it is, their personal view of themselves had yet to become distorted in any major way just yet.

Now the Investigation team get's to reintegrate into the world so their degree of isolation never get's to develop but it's worth pointing out that in the case of the Thieves that...doesn't actually happen.

Without fail, they're still outcasts one and all, if now outcasts that now cling together in friendship love and understanding of their circumstances.

But...

I don't know how to phrase this, but I suppose by the line of logic that I'm following here, the Phantom Thieves never quite Cohere as a group.

Like I recall hearing some folks talking about how the games seem to kinda abandon some of the character's personal plot points in rapid succession to focus on different issues, especially seen in their social links. Like the one that immediately pops to mind is Anne and Shiho and the hot nonsense that happens to them early on. Her social link instead of dealing with that at all beyond briefly touching on it as a thing that did happen, focuses instead on her modeling career, and a degree of taking that more seriously.

Which I agree is kinda bullshit. I'd love to know more about how Haru is dealing with the fallout of her dad beyond the lightish touch it gets, or more about Yusuke's relationship with his shitty dad, or more about Makoto's relationship with her sister and her parents and the like.

See, these things aren't NOT touched on, by no means. Haru's entire social link DOES deal with the fallout of her dad's death...In relation to the Company that she now holds a massive share of and not precisely related to her personally.

But they aren't really a thing that the Thieves, as a group, actually touch on. It's not a thing that get's directly dealt with constantly in the storyline as opposed to what goes down in Sees which is damnably intimate despite their initial desires. They do after all live together, and their job has just thoroughly run in and kicked them in the teeth on every front.

Hell, despite how uh...well badly(?) but definitely at least clumsily and obnoxiously (I am assuming, for a moment it's supposed to be awkward and kinda just...not great, for effect. It probably wasn't, but it's what we got, and at the very least I think it deserves an examination in that light.) The Issues that plague the Investigation squad one and all come up constantly. Kanji's issues with masculinity/homosexuality, Naoto's problems with gender/gender roles, Yukiko's princess status, Teddies Emptiness and attempts to fill that void, etc etc. It get's played with, rather directly, it get's shouted from the mountain tops, and for all that people very definitely fuck up and say some shit (Yosuke) this stuff comes up, and frequently I think.

But not with the Phantom Thieves. They're in fact, extremely guarded with each other, despite being on the same side and all that jazz.

Which leads me to Maruki, and the True End antics.

Cause see, Maruki also get's a Rebellion outift. It's not thief themed, no, it's more a kind of messiah. Or rather, A torch bearer. Whatever his means, his objective is and always was to lead people to being happier and better versions of themselves, although It's plainly obvious that he loses sight of doing that well with the method he chooses given how it's a thing that applies the same cure to every single person when that obviously wouldn't be a good idea.

Sumire says it herself, If not for him there's a good chance that she wouldn't have lasted long enough to make friends as is. And I don't think she's wrong considering how....well absolutely fucking done she was. That was not a healthy mental state that she was in BEFORE her sister died, and it wasn't much better after.

More importantly though, is what happens during that Third Semester. With the Third Persona's that everyone gained, every single one, WITHOUT FAIL, addresses the major concerns, the major events that they've all been staunchly ignoring and refusing to talk about. Ryuji's track desires, Haru's dad pain, Morgana's still burning desire to be human, all of it.

And he fixes it, and he makes, at least for a little bit, better. And in doing so, he absolutely changes the course of their lives, let's them see the way things COULD be, actually sit down and acknowledge one more part of themselves that they want to achieve, and in doing so unmasks, without fail, literally every single one of their persona's.

Well, I say unmask, but they also obviously have face coverings still going on or a degree of inorganic/ambiguous heads and faces, but the degree of difference is stark I think between that and their second persona's or their first.

Also, at least, if you actually bother to max out the social links, and just let someone actually IN, such as it is.

But back to Maruki, it's actually rather interesting that his Metaverse Outfit arguably makes him the HARDEST to identify of everyone. Yeah it's a big golden outfit with an obnoxiously huge helmet and cloak but...

The Helmet is far more interesting to look at than the person wearing it, and even looking at his face it's only really recognizable as him if you can get a clean side view. The Outfits is bright and Golden, but is otherwise unidentfiable if someone else were to be wearing it. The Cloak further makes it harder to see anything between being huge, fluttery, and covering basically anything of note body wise (and potentially facially since it again just flutters all over) In addition to his staff/torch it's...

If we're going through the Shadow Cosplay as looking at the person in questions distorted view of themselves, It's interesting that Maruki's distortion basically does everything in it's power to make him a non entity. Which, I suppose makes sense given his ultimately goal.

[metaphysical-human-being]

Switcheroo

Pt1

Pt2

A/N- Okay so you all remember this headcanon, right? Well, anyway, I loved it so much that I decided to make it a series? I don’t know how long it’ll go but, yeah! Also, I’m not the best writer so sorry in advance!

Warnings- death mention, abandonment mention, guilt mention, nightmare mention, swearing. Tell me if I missed any others!

Summary- Roman and Remus reunite after four years…

It doesn’t go well

Remus zoomed down the hallway, smile on his face and madness in his eyes. He could hear the voices of a few of those dipshits chasing him but he didn’t really care. He knew they’d never catch him and if they did..

Well, let’s just say that he won’t be the one wobbling away with a busted lip and a broken nose. 

He turned the corner and looked around wildly. The voices were getting a bit closer and as much as Remus would willingly fight them, it was his first day and De would be really mad if he got expelled on his first day again-

“There he is! Get him!” He heard the “leader of the pack” yell. He snuck a glance behind him and shot them a crazed smile before taking off running once more. He ran up a flight of stairs and hopped over a few kids skipping class but they never caught him. They got close, but never got him. 

Turning onto a random hallway, he spot two large double doors. A sign saying Auditorium directly above them.

“Perfect!” He mumbled before opening them and closing them quietly. He waited a few seconds to catch his breath before pushing his ear to the door. 

“I think he went this way!” He heard one of the guys call from the end of the hallway. He listened to them run closer and closer to the doors. They stopped right outside the auditorium and Remus heard them discuss going inside. He backed away from the door and looked down the long rows of chairs. Velvety red and plush looking. Kinda comfy. Maybe he could come in here during free periods to nap…

He looked over to the stage before running through the aisles and hopping onto it. The doors opened and he heard the guys walk in. Remus ducked behind the curtains and crouched down as small as possible. 

Just then, someone walked onto the stage. 

“Garrett! And poise…what can I do for you fine gentleman on this beautiful January day!” The loud yet… familiar voice boomed. Something inside Remus seemed to stir but he didn’t pay attention. He only payed attention to the voices. 

“Roman, a pleasure as always.” The main guy, Garret, sneered. 

Remus felt all the air in his lungs leave his body and he had to uncurl from his crouched position to sit down instead. A dread filled his stomach and he kinda felt like throwing up.

Roman?! Roman?! Like, the twin he tricked, Roman? That one? Remus didn’t know he went to this school! Or…maybe he doesn’t? Yeah! Maybe he doesn’t and Remus is just overreacting!

He peaked his head out from behind the curtain, enough to look at the teen in the middle of the stage and…oh ever-fucking Zeus..

It was Roman. He hadn’t seen him since they were twelve and Remus…

At first Remus thought that it wasn’t him but then he saw that deep and prominent dimple on his right cheek and his fiery red hair. (“Just like the Weasley twins!” Ms. Malevolent would always say.  “I’m trouble!” Remus would say. “And I’m double!” Roman would always say after him and then they’d laugh and laugh. Hey…at least neither of them were dead).

Although the clothes were definitely strange to Remus. He had only ever seen Roman in rags and hand me downs, never anything new. Unlike the bright white t-shirt and…Remus guessed maroon pants and the bright Adidas, the only non-new looking thing was…was the sports jacket Remus found when they were ten. 

It was way too big for Roman but now that he was older it fit pretty well. Remus was surprised he still kept it 

“It usually is! Now, why are you here, exactly? I know none of you have drama as an elective and you all definitely aren’t trying out for the school play so…” Roman trailed off, a sense of confidence in his voice that Remus always admired. It didn’t surprise Remus that Roman was in drama either. His twin always loved being the center of attention and putting on little plays for Remus and all the other kids in the orphanage whenever the power went out or any of the kids were having a bad day. They always cheered everyone up and Roman, again, adored the attention. 

“Some new kid tripped my pal Ricky over here,” he heard, presumably Ricky, grunt out an agreement. Remus and Roman both rolled their eyes, although neither knew it. “ And we wanted to…. teach him a lesson! Yeah, teach him a lesson. We thought we saw him go in here.” All the other guys agreed and Roman huffed. 

“Well, I can assure you all, that no one ran in here. Virgil and I are the only ones in here and we didn’t hear anyone come in except you four.” He said, his voice almost song like but that was always Roman. Actually, the only thing Remus could pick out that was different was the deepness of the voice. It had definitely gotten deeper since they were twelve but…it suit him. Remus bet he sounded even better singing than when he did when he was young. Less whiny and more rich. 

Garrett huffed. “Yeah, okay. But if you see him, tell him that Garrett just wants to…talk. Yeah, a nice friendly little chat.”

“And if they don’t show up?” Roman asked, merely out of curiosity, Remus had to guess. 

“Oh, if he’s smart…he will.” Garrett answered before him and his gang walked out. Remus turned back around and let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He got ready to go until a voice stopped him.

“Okay, they’re gone! You can come out now!” Roman announced, still standing on the stage. Remus froze. 

“Oh, come on! I promise I won’t bite~” Roman chuckled. “Well, if you’re cute then I might.” Roman said. Remus gagged. He would have not said that if he knew who was behind the curtain. Still, Remus stayed silent. 

“Y'know I can see your foot, right?” Roman asked. Remus quickly pulled his foot to his chest and cleared his throat. 

“I think I’m comfy right here.” Remus replied, making his voice sound as different as possible. It’s only been three years, it would not take Roman long to figure out who he was if he used his normal voice.

He heard Roman chuckle, it was melodious and he felt tears gather in his eyes. God he missed that sound. 

“Oh, come on. I’m not gonna hurt you-”

“I doubt that,” Remus cut him off. He knew that Roman would probably beat the shit out of him for what he did and he really can’t blame the guy. He did kind of trick him and abandon him. 

“How are you so sure?” Roman asked. Remus let out a watery bark of laughter.

“Oh, I’m sure,” he said. He heard Roman walk closer to where he was. His footsteps were slow and light sounding. 

“Can I at least know your name?” Roman tried. Remus shook his head no but then realized that Roman couldn’t see him.

“Hey Roman, I’m heading out. Pat and I are going to lunch! You spending your free period here?” A new voice, presumably Virgil, said. Roman just let out a loud hum and then the doors opened and closed. 

“That was my friend, Virgil. Although, if you were listening, you already knew that. Can you please come out?” Roman asked once more. 

“I’m gay.”

“Haha. Very funny.” Roman responded, tone light. Remus chuckled slightly too. “I am too, if that makes you feel any better.” Roman said.

“It does, actually.” Remus whispered. A tear had streamed down his face but he kept his voice level. 

“If…if I show you who I am…do you promise not to get mad?” Remus asked after a few seconds of silence. He heard Roman back away to the center of the stage. 

“That depends…are you my long lost twin?” Roman joked, voice layered with a type of sadness that made Remus’ stomach twist with guilt. He rose to his feet and walked out from behind the curtain. 

“Actually,” he walked over to Roman who was now frozen to his spot, eyes wide and filled with a lot of emotions. “I am.” Remus said, spreading out his arms in a “here I am” type way. 

There wasn’t much to show though. They both had pretty much the same build. Except, Roman was a lot more muscular in the arms while Remus was more muscular in his legs( due to running a lot of track…and away from the cops sometimes)

Their wardrobe was a lot more different too. At first De had offered to buy Remus all new clothes but he liked the more raggedy and dirty clothes. (“They fit my ass-the-dick” young Remus had said. De chuckled. “You mean, aesthetic?” He had asked. “Yeah, that thing” Remus waved off, marching out of the random store.) His dirty and very ripped jeans and his old crop top that he found. The only decent thing he had was the army jacket De insisted he get when he first got adopted. 

The silence that dragged on through the air was as thick as Remus’ book of regrets and as sharp as his many knives.

The slap that rang out across the room easily broke that though. 

Remus fell to the ground, hands cradling his right cheek. He didn’t even realize Roman moved closer to him.

“I…I deserve that.” Remus winced, feeling the spot. Damn, how hard did Roman hit? There was definitely gonna be a bruise. 

“Damn right!” Roman yelled but Remus rose to his feet and held out his hand. 

“You said you wouldn’t get angry,” Remus reminded. 

“I said I wouldn’t get angry if you weren’t my long lost twin.” Roman corrected. Remus sighed. He did say that. 

“What are you doing here?!” Roman yelled. Remus winced at the loud noise and covered his ears. 

“Aye, quiet would ya? I don’t need the whole school knowing about this.” Remus muttered, fiddling with a loose piece of thread on his jacket. Roman quieted down his tone but it was still filled with the same venom as when he was yelling. 

“What. The hell! Are you doing here?! Roman seethed. Remus licked his lips before answering. 

“Well, I was on my way to second period but then I accidentally tripped one of those assholes and spent the next five or so minutes getting chased around the school.” Remus explained, attempting to ease the tension. Roman did not find it funny. 

“I’m serious, Re." 

Time seemed to stop. That nickname, the old nickname Roman used to call him. No one is allowed to call him that anymore, not even De! It made Remus feel something that he didn’t particularly like. 

"I-I mean, Remus." 

"Yeah..yeah I know uhm. I got expelled from my last school for….a certain incident and De and I moved up here, to NC, to be closer to his family…also because I got expelled from almost every school in a 100 mile radius.” Remus rushed through the last part but Roman still got it. 

“So…so what you just went to this school to-to- I don’t even know! Rub it in my face! Humiliate me more than you already did? Mock me for being tricked by my brother!”

“No! Of course not! I didn’t even know you went here!” Remus defended, although a bit weakly. It seemed to go unnoticed by Roman. 

“And then you show up here-of all places! You haven’t even bothered trying to get into contact with me once since I left!.” Roman said. It felt like a kick in the gut to Remus but Roman didn’t seem to see that. Or if he did, he didn’t care. 

“I know tha-" 

"Do you know how long I waited? Just waiting for you to contact me? Tell me that you missed me-that you regret what you did- that you loved me- that you were safe?! Cus I had no idea if you had died or anything!,” Roman continued. Remus looked across the large auditorium guiltily. The rows of seats and the box seats on top. They all looked almost brand new and very…regal.

Damn, this school was rich. 

“Oh, nothing to say? Well maybe you’ll say something when I tell you that I had to go to therapy because of what you fucking did to me!” Tears had started to stream down Romans cheeks but he kept going. “Think about it? How traumatizing that is? Knowing that my twin- my brother, my only family- had gotten rid of me and didn’t even feel bad enough to send me a fucking emai-”

“I do too,” Remus whispered. 

Romans paused. 

“What?” he sneered. 

“I do too.” Remus said, louder. “Go to therapy, I mean. The guilt I felt, the nightmares I got…I didn’t know if you were okay and your last name changed- I couldn't  find you- then I got adopted and we moved to Florida and I just-…I gave up. On everything, actually. De got me therapy not long after ….” Remus trailed off. 

A range of emotions swimmed through Romans dark brown eyes. The same eyes that Remus possessed but they looked…older. Like he’d seen the universe crumble and couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

Remus probably looked much the same. 

“I-I…I have to go!" 

"Roman, wait!” but he had already jumped down from the stage and ran through the double doors and straight into the crowd of students.

Remus collapsed into a crying mess in the middle of the stage. Tears mixed with snot as they met at his chin and he didn’t bother to wipe it away. He just pulled out his phone and clicked the first contact. He held it up to his ear and waited. 

“Remus? Wha-”

“C-c-can you p-pick me up…” Remus stuttered, voice low. 

“What? Why? And why are you crying? Remus what ha-” the concern seemed high in the man’s voice and Remus felt bad for putting it there. Not bad enough to continue through the rest of the day though. 

“I-I…I wan-wanna go h-…h-home!” He pleaded, curling into himself as tightly as possible. It almost felt like a comforting hug. Almost. 

“Of…of course, darling. We can go home. I’ll pick you up in ten minutes so gather your things.”

“O-okay….I love you D-De.” Remus whispered, wiping away a few tears. They kept coming but at least he tried. 

“Of course. I love you too, Rem.” De hung up with a click. Remus lifted himself up from his folded position, wiped a few more tears, and headed towards his locker to grab the few things he brought. 

God, he wished he kicked those kids asses after all.

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

How do you choose quotes to make edits for (like do you have a list that you choose from or is it whenever you see something good) and how do you choose which characters/scenes etc to gif to go with them - like for example the last set you did with the ‘carry you with me’ quote. How did you choose which scenes to use and pair together with the quote (sorry if you’ve answered something similar before)

I’ve done some live edits in the past to kind of show my process with making very specific edits

(Link, Link, Link, Link, Link, Link)

But those are like, specific to each edit, so I’ll also give a general answer. I’m putting it below a “Keep Reading” because it’s a very long answer :)

How do you choose quotes to make edits for?

My other fandom page, @Rhysand-vs-Fenrys , has endured weekly reminders to watch The Untamed for like... 8-9 months now (Friday at 9am, usually an aesthetic GIFset I reblog from someone and add links to the bottom to the different platforms to view it on).

To be fair to them, I decided most of my edits would be done with quotes from the Rhysand-vs-Fenrys fandom (Sarah J Maas book series). Some quotes are very famous within that fandom and came to mind immediately, and I went through the Goodreads quotes lists for it.

As for other quotes, some I knew off the top of my head (the Carmina Burana, Aeneid, and LOTR ones) and some I just did a general google search for quotes with different themes like power or fate or love and saved the ones that kind of sparked my interest.

As I feel like doing an edit I’ll just look through the list until something snags on my eye and go with that. Most quotes gave me immediate ideas and I saved a little bulleted point beneath it saying what I thought of when I read it.

How do you choose which characters/scenes etc to gif to go with them?

I have some rules for what I look at for edits:

1. Once I have the quote divided into how many GIFs I’d like it to be, the first line of text is the theme and the last line of text is the tone. This is explained further lower down

2. First GIF has to be the star of the quote or, if it’s a group one, a high profile character.

3. NO LITERAL GIFS. Know if something is literal, I hate it and I only used it because I had no other choice. For example, in the “carry you with me” edit there is one that is “Walking in the light”. Originally it just worked out that the GIF of Wangji walking would have fallen there, with Jiang Cheng and Wangji as “the words that dance between people” and the final GIF in the edit (’Remembering being alive together’) being the teahouse. I rearranged and redesigned the entire edit just so Lan Wangji would not be walking in a GIF that had the word “walking”.

There are a few others, but those are more nit-picky. Those three above are the main ones, and they apply to every GIFset.

I’ll make my example the “Carry You” GIFset you referenced, which feeds into your final question---

...the last set you did with the ‘carry you with me’ quote. How did you choose which scenes to use and pair together with the quote (sorry if you’ve answered something similar before)

First off, here is the “Carry You” edit for anyone who wants to look at the thing I’m talking about

I almost didn’t even consider this quote because I immediately knew it’d be about Wuxian and Wangji, and that I would want to exclusively rely on the period where Wangji thought Wuxian was dead, which equates to A VERY NARROW SELECTION OF SCENES AND SHOTS OMG.

--- Wangji looking at the sky

--- Mo Manor

--- On Dafan Mountain

--- Tea with Jiang Cheng

--- Flashback to Burial Mounds burning

--- Flashback to saving A-Yuan

--- Flashback to being whipped

--- Flashback to Cold Pond Cave

That was enough to populate a 6 GIF edit if I really picked at the bones, so next I look at the first line of the quote: “I carry you with me into the world”. That became the theme of the entire edit. The final line is the tone- “Remembering being alive together”.

So every single GIF from the first to the last and anything in between had to have a direct line to ‘Remembering being alive together’ and an overall feeling of wangji ‘carrying (wuxian) with me into the world’. So what does that mean? Living your life in the spirit of that person. Chosing actions to honor their memory, either in behaving as they would or changing something bout yourself that was in conflict to them.

The original plan for that edit was as follows (these are direct quotes from my edit plan written in my shorthand):

“I carry you with me into the world”  ➜  Ep 1 looking at sky (no Wuxian scene selected)

“Into the smell of rain”  ➜  whipped alone, w/wuxian

“and the words that dance between people”  ➜  Ep 2, JC in woods (no Wuxian scene selected)

“and for me, it will always be this way”  ➜  Ep 1, holding sword, wuxian burning (my shorthand for when he gets smokey)

“walking in the light”  ➜  Ep 1 with ducklings, in burial mounds with A-Yuan

“remembering being alive together”  ➜  Ep 2 tea w/Yiling meal

I was just going to throw those shots side-by-side, but then I thought about how cool it would look if I could actually put Wuxian across the table from Wangji in that last one. I was still in the planning phase, which is why I never came up with a Wuxian for the first 2 GIFs.

At that point I started thinking about how it would fit the tone and theme so much better if I could make all of them that way. So at this point I abandoned the written plan and as I kind of thought about and processed what i wanted to do, I went through Episodes 1, 2, 44 & 46 and grabbed Wangji’s shots alone.

I decided- no reason just felt like it- that I wanted to step into this edit, rather than begin it already in process. I tried making a few GIFs of Wangxian for that “I carry you with me into the world” and just didn’t like them. I really wanted it to shine through that this was a theme and not tie it to specific scenes. Then I saw that slow pan of Bichen’s hilt that you see in episode 1 and was like “I bet I can find a Chenqing from the right angle to match that...”

**at this point I should say my rule for this edit was that every single shot of Wuxian had to be a scene Wangji was also in.

I decided to break that rule for the first edit, because Wuxian never holds Chenqing up against Wangji at the right fucking angle unless it’s pitch black in a thunderstorm and the tassel isn’t red in that shot so what’s even the point. So that shot is from Wuxian raising it against YANLI in Episode 21(?), rotated, horizontal flipped, cropped, spotlight on the tassel, selective color enhance, and a motion tracking filter just to smooth it out. 

Once I decide on the GIF itself, I look through the effects editor just to kind of throw everything at it and see what helps me achieve my mental picture, so it was a lot of dicking around to see if that would even work.

After that, focus went to *Wangji*. Pick WANGJI’s shot, and then look for a Wuxian moment from the right angle to match Wangji and ghost into the shot (which was hard as all FUCK. That last shot of Wuxian with the alcohol was a last ditch attempt to find a shot). As I said, I rearranged three GIFs just so I wouldn’t have Wangji walking during a GIF with the word “walking” in it. 

This edit was easier than others in that the first and last lines- “I carry you with me into the world/ remembering being alive together”- are really the only thing you need. Every line contributes directly to that theme, so the GIFs themselves are pretty interchangeable. 

I wanted JC there for “The words that dance between people”, which is why Wuxian has such attitude in that GIF- like he’s reacting to nasty words being exchanged (I decided it still worked in its new home of “walking in the light”). I decided I *loved* “the words that dance between people” being Wangji sitting alone at the table, not speaking at all. It has a sense of longing and regret that really suits the overall themes and tones.

I hope that made sense and answered your question? Sorry it was a long response, I wasn’t sure how much you were interested in hearing. But yeah, I do my edits live if I’m pretty confident in the game plan, so if you keep an eye on the page I’ll try to be better about scheduling those and not making them last minute.

I chose not to do this one live because I knew it was going to be really complicated and I wasn’t confident in the scenes. When I’m doing it live I feel pressured to make decisions very quickly so people aren’t bored and in the past have made GIFs I am not happy with just because I felt bad about waffling on shots. I wanted this one to really fit what I was imagining and to do that I had to be able to be indecisive. 

[kinetic-elaboration]

October 30: 1x21 The Return of the Archons

Took a break from Halloween-ing to watch TOS with my mom. Today’s ep, the rather lackluster Return of the Archons.

A very in media res beginning! Unsurprisingly since a lot of the drama of this episode hangs on the audience not knowing the whole story.

Sulu is looking damn fine. These weird outfits really do it for him.

Maybe O’Neill had the right idea in running instead of waiting for the transporter. (Or maybe not, seeing as we later find out they caught him too.)

Look at the heels on their boots lol. I always forget about that.

Today’s official adventure: looking for the missing ship Archon.

“Sulu’s mysterious condition requires that I, the Captain, collect all of the most important people on board the ship and beam down into a planet we already know to be full of dangers.”

“Materialization completed.” Uh good to know Kirk.

Why is Spock wearing that dramatic-ass cloak? (I know it’s because he needs a hood to cover his ears but he still looks very much not of a piece.)

Whereas McCoy looks like a down-home Georgia gentleman. He looks like he’s returned to his natural habitat.

I bet these are the sort of outfits AOS Kirk wished he was wearing when he was sighing wearily at his closet filled with uniforms.

I love that this planet is clearly the set of a Western. Or... Maybury. Or also Miri.

Not only did The 100 steal S3 from this episode, it also stole the Red Sun from it, didn’t it?

They keep saying they came for the festival and yet it is VERY clear they don’t know what the festival is. This disguise is not working.

It got dark damn fast. They’re outside, it’s almost 12--one would assume that’s 12 noon--and then they go inside, talk for about 3 minutes, go to another room, and it’s pitch black out!

Is this like The Purge? (I asked myself this while we were watching and--spoiler alert!--it is! The Purge was based, perhaps subconsciously, on this ep.)

Kirk looks very handsome in this ep. Like whoever directed it looks like he’s in love with him.

“Crewmen, here are your various assignments... Mr. Spock... come with me, somewhere private. To talk.”

Spock sleeping with his eyes open. (Meditating, my mom says.)

Oh look, it’s the secret police, in their brown robes.

Landru doesn’t seem too gentle lmao. “No dissent is allowed. You will be absorbed.” Randomly killing that guy who kinda said “maybe, uh, the festival...isn’t great??”

Kirk makes one comment about how everyone’s slow on the uptake here, and slow to respond to questions and denials, and Spock goes heart eyes. “Captain, how are you so smart and logical?”

“Fascinating, this is merely a hollow tube, Captain.” And uh I guess we’re never going to explain how that hollow tube kills people then?

They’re communing...

Love that Spock points out that the people are being communicated with through telepathy. Though... I remain sightly perplexed how the computer can do that. The next stage in Apple computing I guess.

Why isn’t Reger affected by all this? Like they imply that some people are spared the “festival” festivities because of their age, but that doesn’t seem to explain why he’s not “of the body.” Like being of the body isn’t a choice that people make, you’re ether absorbed or you’re not. They say later that he’s immune--but that in itself requires explanation. Like idk it seems a major plot hole that there can even be a resistance when the computer has controlled the society for thousands of years.

So I guess the backstory on the Archon ship is that they were all either absorbed or killed when they objected to the computer and its creepiness.

I do think the little hints that the society used to be way more advanced are intriguing.

“What should we do about this body that’s going to act as a tracking beacon right to us?” / “Uh, knock him out again.”

This planet is so peaceful.. no war or crime... except for people occasionally beating and raping each other nbd.

Was that Starfleet Officer really just going to shoot that projection? Not the best and the brightest being recruited nowadays I guess.

“The creature called Landru.”

“Enough analysis.” Spock always wants to talk through the whole backstory of the weird situations they’re in, while Kirk is a man of action!

Bones is really not being used to full capacity in this ep. He’s just kinda there in the background, until he’s absorbed.

Spock is very concerned about what will happen to the Captain, but also kind of... skeptical about this whole thing. For someone in control of his emotions he exhibits a lot of emotions imo.

“Happy communing!” Just gonna say this all the time now.

Time for another mind meld. So casual about it now.

Spock’s face during Kirk’s Landru-imitating speech is HILARIOUS. That eyebrow! The eye roll! I really think he’s amused by all of this.

He’s not very good at pretending to be absorbed. He sees Jim and he’s immediately like “Captain...!” all normal like.

“The peace of the factory, the tranquility of the machine.”

“You’re thinking the same thing I am. Mr. Spock... I love you.”

It’s pretty awesome that the same ep that introduces the Prime Directive also immediately finds Kirk forming loopholes in it. “We’re not supposed to interfere.... in living, growing cultures, which this isn’t! Moral conundrum solved.”

Spock actually straight up punched a man in the face lol.

Interesting that the communicators work like that--Spock is talking to the Enterprise on his, and Kirk just slides into the conversation on his device, without Spock abandoning his call. I think because they became cell phones irl that I think of them as cells but they’re not. It’s just weird to see them casually used in these totally bonkers ways.

Lol he returned them to a simpler, easier time. I guess you could say Landru made Beta III great again.

So Reger had second thoughts about actually destroying Supreme Leader once it got too real?

Interesting how Landru’s lair is so much more sci-fi-y in aesthetic than the town. Another hint of what the society used to look like.

Spock without the cloak. Damn son.

“We do not intend to die.” That’s a good attitude.

Revealing the Wizard behind the curtain...

“The whole society is a machine’s concept of perfection.”

A man programming himself into an all knowing machine that lives forever really does remind me of Becca and ALIE except with a 60s aesthetic--a large, physical computer rather than an AI.

“The good of the body is the Prime Directive.” Tbh I feel like what this whole ep is saying is that sometimes Prime Directives need to be bent if the reality of the situation doesn’t square with the spirit of the directive.

I love when Kirk destroys computers using Extreme Logic.

That should be a presidential debate question "What have you done to do justice to the full potential of every individual of the body?"

“Well, now that that’s done, we’re going to go. Have fun rebuilding your entire society from nothing. We’ll leave you a single sociologist to help out.”

So Mr. Sulu is back to normal, and he immediately returns to the bridge to give a little, goofy sitcom smile-and-shrug and kick some random extra outta his chair.

Why do they assume Landru was a good guy lol? I mean he solved their extreme violence problem but he instituted a plenty of other problems instead. Also he was clearly a megalomaniac.

This society’s backstory sounds an awful lot like pre-reform Vulcan. Maybe they should just send a Vulcan to teach them Surak’s ways.

Honestly they were left alone for like an hour and had a handful of fist fights. I think they really were a very violent people! Maybe destroying the dictator-computer was a bad idea!

I find it very odd that the whole festival thing was never actually explained. I guess it must have been a purge idea--that because they are so naturally violent and terrible aliens, they need to let off that steam in some way every now and again, and they do this through a “festival” of no-holds-barred violence. Still kinda wish they’d explicitly circled back on that in some way though.

I think the most interesting part of this episode was the planet’s back story. Kirk acts in the end as if they were basically human, but they’re not. Also, I got the impression that Landru convinced people to follow him first, and then only when he died, set himself up as an eternal God/Computer. So he must have been a very interesting, charismatic person. And that one of his ideas was to return to a “simpler time” in everything from dress to architecture, as if that had any real correlation with levels of violence is... fascinating. Was that the hook that he hung his reform on?

Overall, as I said, not a super strong S1 episode, but not bad at all. Next week is Space Seed, a classic episode that unfortunately was absolutely wrung dry by too many repeats over the course of the franchise. (...Yes I am referring specifically to STID obviously.) Still that shouldn’t take away from the brilliance of the original!

[svtquality]

[hearth] festival of gods

[n]. family life; the home. gods have two jobs: help humankind thrive and survive each others’ antics

mains　chan, minghao count　1954 warning　no romance

chan stops time to enjoy the annual festival a little longer than usual and minghao is the only one who notices.

The sand inside the hourglass stills as the god of time smirks. It’s cathartic when the magic leaves his body, as though a huge weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Chan, he calls himself, taps against the glass and seeing the sand unmoving makes his heart swell even more.

The Festival of Gods is held annually by humans down on earth, and today, Chan feels especially worthy of such praise. The other gods wouldn’t notice for a while, having their own duties and similar enthusiasm for the festival. The thought of food and drinks, music and dancing, leaves him giddy. He twirls in his room before heading out his door and into blinding light.

The light outside his door fades as Chan steps through. What would have been the hallways of their home turns into a green field, and the smell of meat, spices, and burning woods embrace him. The sky is dark, but Vernon’s bright stars fill it to the brim, providing the humans more light for the occasion. Chan can’t help but clap at Vernon’s sensible consideration. Children, who have been playing some sort of game, stand still in the center of the village while the adults who have been preparing for the festival are frozen in place. Only the humans are affected this time; Chan still needs the fire to continue cooking the meat and the smell to keep his nose content.

It’s a great perk, Chan muses, being able to stop time on days like these; being able to bask in the humans’ worship, feast on the plentiful food and drinks, and finally take a break from keeping his control at bay shrouds the impending scolding he’ll receive for playing with time. After all, it’s against the rules to abuse his power for personal satisfaction. Well, rules are sometimes meant to be broken; he’ll deal with the repercussions when they come. For now, he walks over to the fire for a bite of the roasted pig.

***

The gods’ home bustles with life, Soonyoung’s cheers echoing above the rest. Minghao watches as he sips his wine, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He made a bet with Jihoon; will someone finally defeat the god of heaven? Minghao, the ever defiant and progressive god of advancement, betted yes, today will be different. Jihoon laughed at such a declaration, and the bet was on. Minghao’s biggest hope lies in Chan, as Seungcheol seems to have a soft spot for the god of time, but he is nowhere to be seen. Still in his room, perhaps.

With each win, Seungcheol seems to gain more strength, excitement powering him on. Soonyoung’s cheers probably propels that excitement into overdrive, Minghao thinks, and mentally wishes to silence the god of fire by shoving a chicken leg  into his mouth. Jihoon, too, cheers at every win, though his cheers are quiet and consist of merely pointing at Minghao with a cocky smirk. Minghao simply rolls his eyes in return.

The feast hall is grand, ceilings unreachable even for gods, and decorated with ribbons and silk of almost every color (Minghao wishes the colors at least matched aesthetically, but instead, it seems as though the hall has been vomited on by a rainbow or two or five). In the center stands a long table and matching seats, all made of dark wood directly from the gardens. Food and drinks cover the surface, corner to corner, with one area cleared for the competition.

With the food and drinks pushed aside, Minghao steps away from the other gods to pour himself more wine. There’s only a few candidates left before Seungcheol is declared the winner once again; Minghao needs to indulge in the wine before the game ends. The bet was for twenty winters of abstinence, after all.

The hall roars with sudden cheers causing Minghao to flinch and spill onto the ground. He quickly spins, the spill completely ignored. There can only be one reason for such cheer.

Junhui, face red and scrunched, grips Seungcheol’s hand tightly with one hand and the edge of the table with the other while his animal companion for the day, a rabbit, nibbles on a dandelion by his side. Minghao unknowingly yells with excitement, only realizing it is his own voice ringing in his ears as he nearly flings himself closer to the competition. He never expected Junhui, sweet and gentle—albeit eccentric—Junhui to give Seungcheol a hard time.

The god of sturdy earth indeed.

“Junhui!” some of the gods cheer. Before Minghao can join, something stops him. A feeling. A terrible feeling.

He sets down his wine cup and runs to his room.

It’s a feeling that comes when there’s a halt, when humans are no longer moving forward. Each second is precious to them, their lives unfortunately short, and any wasted delays in their species’ advancement—oh gods, have they even created proper plumbing yet?

Minghao opens the door to his room with great force. It slams against the wall on the other side. He disregards the noise, immediately rushing over to his desk for his book. He flips to the last filled page and looks over it in detail. It’s a painting he created himself depicting the next advancement, but the colors have already begun to fade. Something is definitely wrong.

Each page in the endless book is blank until Minghao paints a new invention or idea that will help humans advance. But this? A painting fading to blank never happens—should never happen.

Minghao closes the book and rushes back to the feast hall. The competition continues, Dokyeom having replaced Junhui as the challenger. Cheers are roaring with even more eagerness, and Seungcheol is too engrossed in the game; he wouldn’t pay attention to Minghao right now. Then perhaps the god of time can—no, still not here.

Minghao turns on his feet and heads to Chan’s room. He curses at the distance, inconveniently far from his own room and the hall (which, he briefly thinks, is ineffective seeing as how often the two gods work together).

The door slams open with more force than before, the calm demeanor Minghao usually carries long abandoned in his room. Chan’s room, often filled with music, is silent, and the hourglass, a constant reminder of the god’s duties, is gone. Just like its owner.

“No way,” Minghao murmurs.

It’s happened before: time manipulated for the good of gods, humans, and nature alike. But those instances have always been accounted for and premeditated into their plans. This time is different; a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach overwhelms him and a sudden nausea that he didn’t know gods could even feel comes in waves. Perhaps this is what it means to go against the very nature of their existence. He needs it to stop.

He needs to find Chan.

Minghao slams the door shut as he steps outside the room. Inhale. The doorknob feels cold in his hand. Exhale. He swings the door open. A night breeze greets him and the scent of roasted meat beckons him through the door.

***

Chan’s feet barely reach the ground. The table he’s sitting on is too high above the ground for his feet to reach, but the distance feels nice. It almost seems as though he is no longer bound by the earth’s pull, while the soft breeze tickling the bottom of his feet sends small giggles throughout his body. It feels like freedom. The mysterious weight that shackles him to his hourglass, the duties of being the god of time, seems to have lightened even more throughout the night, giving him more than enough space to breathe.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed, having not bothered to keep track from the beginning. He just needed this: the time to celebrate—well, celebrate everything. Him. His power. His fellow gods. Their constant attention to humans and their survival. The humankind’s ignorance, their negligence. This festival, when that ignorance is finally brought into the light; their admittance to it.

Chan takes a deep breath. The night air is cool against his skin and when it reaches his lungs, he feels refreshed. The stars in the sky have started to dim, their tasks of twinkling as brightly as they can completed for the night. It will be smart to let time continue; humans will wonder how their surroundings have changed so much once time returns.

Well, Chan thinks as he swings his feet, maybe just a little longer.

With the decision secured, Chan lays down on the table after shuffling food and drinks away from him. He counts the stars slowly, his mind eventually wandering off into dim thoughts. One, two...I wonder...three, four...what everyone else is doing...five, six.

If anything, he knows they would be locked into some competition by now, searching for the worthy god capable of defeating Seungcheol in strength. Chan snickers at the thought, the image clear in his mind. It happens almost every night of the festival, every god’s mind finally free from their respective duties, and while the result of the competition is inevitable, it is simple fun—a well-deserved break. Then, when the night ends and the sun rises with Seungkwan’s cheerful song, it is back to work.

“So this is how you are spending your time.”

Chan jumps up from his position and spins his head toward the voice. He finds Minghao standing on the other side of the table, arms crossed. He can tell without asking: the god of craft is angry. Rightfully so, Chan thinks (though he will never admit so out loud), since by stopping time, Chan has inadvertently prevented Minghao’s work from being fulfilled.

“Has anyone defeated the champion?” Chan cheerfully asks, trying to steer the conversation away from what he did. It doesn’t work.

Chan fidgets with the edge of his sleeve as Minghao steps around the table. The god of advancement offers a hand out for the god of time to hold. Chan accepts, only if to keep Minghao calm. This also doesn’t work.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Minghao scolds. He helps Chan hop off the table and stand. “This is very selfish of you, Chan.”

(The reprimand goes almost unheard. Chan can only think about how the ground feels under his feet, the way the grass tickles him like the breeze did, but in a way that also differs, that he dislikes.)

Chan flinches at the sudden movement of Minghao’s hand. He pushes it away before it can flick his forehead. “Selfish. Narcissistic. The very opposite of what gods are supposed to do. Yes, I know.”

Minghao drops his hand to his side, a frown forming on his lips. The look of disappointment on Chan’s face catches him off-guard. There’s a hint of shame in the expression, and at the same time, a look of pride. Before Minghao can ask, Chan nods at the closest door and starts to walk toward it. Minghao notices the slight slump of Chan’s shoulders, the lack of spring in his usually energetic steps, and the lazy drag of his feet as if to feel the grass under him one last time.

“Since you know,” Minghao starts, hoping he won’t regret such a decision, “let’s just rest a little more.”

Chan quickly turns, back straightened and eyes wide. He didn’t expect to hear that from Minghao, the diligent and workaholic god. “What?”

Minghao sighs as he sits down on the table Chan was lying on before. “You know what you did is wrong; so, let’s just take advantage of this for a bit more.”

Chan closes the gap between them with quick, wide steps with a smile. “Really?”

Minghao reflects Chan’s smile with his own. “Yes, really.”

[cecilspeaks]

152 - The Great Golden Hand

Here it comes. Here it comes! The Great Golden Hand! Hurrah, rejoice! It nears, it nears!

Welcome to Night Vale.

Wonderful news, residents. City officials report that within the next few hours, we should expect the arrival of the Great Golden Hand. This will mark the first visit from the Great Golden Hand in nearly 80 years. Older residents and those who up until recently did not age will remember the last visit fondly. Those were the days, when the air felt crisper somehow, as though growing older does not cause a degradation of self, but rather a degradation of everything outside of self. We project our own decline upon the world and complain that everything was righter and better at the time that we coincidentally were at our physical and mental peak.

But I digress. Because everything was better during the Great Golden Hand, that’s just objective. We will update you on the Hand as it approaches. But in the meantime, make sure that you are stocked up on a supply of clean water, adequate canned goods for five to eight years, and copious amounts of human hair for the offering. If you do not have hair, please make sure to stop by the hair bank this morning to pick up hair generously donated by your neighbors, for those who crave human hair by the fistful.

But first, today’s forecast. Rain later, or no rain. Or sun, or snow, or none of those things. There will be some light clouds along the horizon, or it will be clear and you will stand out on a lawn gone prickly with the conservation of water. And you will see that you can see all the way across the world, even though you know that you can only see about three miles to to curvature of the Earth, but it’s metaphorical, this distance, and with the clarity of the sky, it will seem much further than that. Or there will be clouds, so none of that will happen and you will l only sit in your kitchen, eating leftovers and not thinking even a little about everything you’ve never done and you will never get to do. Or you won’t wake up today. There will come a day where you don’t, you know, and then none of this will matter. And the sky will be a perfect blue and you won’t see it. Or it will rain. Or no rain. Or sun. Or snow. Or none of those things. All of that later today, or tomorrow, or never. This has been today’s forecast.

We continue to track the Great Golden Hand, as it takes over much of the western horizon. Larry Leroy out on the edge town reported that flowers have begun growing and dying in bursts all morning. Cycles of life that passes quickly as air through his lungs. “These plants are speeding up,” he said, or else we are slowing down. Maybe thousands of years have passed and the only ones that know are the flowers.” [laughs] Larry, what a joker!

City government tells us we have nothing to fear from the Great Golden Hand, although city government is in a bit of disarray, as of course we do not have a mayor, and city council has announced that they forgot it was their sister’s wedding this weekend in Tulsa, and they need to leave town immediately. So city government currently consists of Claire Scott at the hall of public records. Claire is a woman-shaped apparition that haunts the dark hallways of the building and is responsible for at least ten deaths. It’s not an ideal situation leaving her in charge, but at least someone is there, as the Great Golden Hand draws ever closer.

Let’s take a quick look at the headlines. Controversy has erupted over a new McDonald’s commercial, as many say that the victims offered on the altar weren’t properly consecrated. Lenny Butler, who has no official (–) [0:05:47] on religion or ceremony, but who considers himself something of a sacrifice aficionado and self-taught expert, dismissed the commercial as, quote, “more hack co-opting by corporate culture.” He shook his head in disbelief as he showed reporters a copy of the commercial. “Look at this, he said. “Does that axe look like it has been buried for 100 days in a graveyard? I bet some underpaid PA bought that axe at an Ace Hardware the day of the shoot. And look at how the subsequent bone and blood slurry is just kind of spilling everywhere! There’s no thought at all to proper aesthetic flow to the sacrifice!” Lenny concluded. Executives at national McDonald’s headquarters expressed horror and disbelief when asked about the commercial, saying they had nothing to do with this and why are we making them watch this traumatizing footage. “Why?” the executives repeated over and over, in smaller and smaller voices. “Why?” Well, that’s it for the headlines.

And now traffic. There is a crack in the wall. There is a twinge in your heart. There is someone coming, but don’t worry, there is also someone going. There is a lamp in an alcove in a house on a mountain. There is a hand that reaches out and turns on the lamp. There is an eye that squints thru the dim light, trying to see what isn’t there. There is a name. Yes, there is a name, but we will never know what it is. There is a dusty foot scooting along rough wood. There is a tree outside, and it moans through the fierce wind off the peaks. There is a small flower in a pot and it is three days from dying. There is a lamp in an alcove in a house on a mountain and a hand that reaches out and turns it off. There is a car on a road to the mountain. There is a mind dreaming that this time, the reunion will go differently. There is a hand on a steering wheel and it trembles. There is a foot upon a gas pedal, and it wants to ease up, to turn around, to accelerate toward anything but a house on a mountain. There is an eyelash upon an eyelid, upon an eye, upon a skull, upon a lifetime of doubt. There is a tree across part of the road, and maybe that could be an excuse, but no. The hand upon the wheel turns, and finds the narrow way thru, and continues on, toward the house on a mountain. There is a crack in the wall. There is a twinge in your heart. There is someone coming. But don’t worry, there is also someone going. This has been traffic.

I’m being told by a multitude of disembodied mouths, that appeared in my office and began worbling in a singsongy chant, that the Great Golden Hand is only minutes away from covering the entire area. If you have not already sought shelter, now would be the time to regret screwing up so badly on such an important day. Remember to not look directly at the Great Golden Hand. The Great Golden Hand should not be mixed with alcohol or other medications without advice from your doctor. Unfortunately, the Great Golden Hand has taken all the doctors. Also all life insurance adjusters and all dog walkers. If you notice sparks, that is part of the process. If you feel a fission, that is also part of the process. If you see the color green, that is not part of the process and you should panic. The process will protect us. The Great Golden Hand will protect us. Long live the Hand.

Meanwhile, just a brief notice before we are overtaken by the Hand. It seesm that, oh this is interesting, that the family of Frank Chen has filed a missing persons report with the sheriff’s secret police. Now, you might remember that Frank Chen’s dead body was found several years ago, covered in claw marks and burns, and we all assumed he was dead. But then he was seen around town driving his pickup truck, and now he looked like a five-headed dragon. Sure, he looks completely different, but the dragon had a New Jersey driver’s license that indicated that he indeed was Frank Chen. And so that was the day it was proven to us that the dead can come back to life looking completely different. Anyway, the Chen family says that Frank was driving out from the east coast to see his brother, and disappeared somewhere between Oklahoma and Los Angeles. It took him several years to find Night Vale, although our recent change back to a normal timeline has at least put us a little more in sync with the rest of the country. The Chen family is unsure what a sheriff’s secret police is, nor what is so secret about them if they drive around in clearly labeled cars, but they would appreciate any help at all in finding their long lost Frank. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen rank since the day that Hiram McDaniels, the five- oh sorry, four-headed dragon, left Night Vale. Where did Frank go? If you have any information, tell a bird. Birds are real loudmouths and the info will be all over town in no time.

And now for the community calendar. This Friday, Martin McCaffrey is presenting an art show in the grain silo out back from the old Cooper farm. The silo will be kept in absolute darkness, and each (-) [0:12:40] will be shoved into the abandoned tower all along. They will not be able to see anything except the dancing light that lives in their eyelids. But they will know that they are with art, that art is indeed there, just beyond their fingertips in the darkness watching them. Suggested donation is five dollars, as in Martin suggests you donate that or you won’t be able to get in. Saturday morning, we’re getting towards the end of the summer softball league, and once again we have the annual grudge match between Steve Carlsberg’s Happy Hyenas, and Susan Willman’s Bad at Softball Losers. Not their real team name, but the name was kind of forgettable, and I think this one is more catchy. Ugh, Susan Willman! [mumbles] Tooling around in that Prius she bought after her Mini Cooper was filled with jellyfish and then towed. [cheerfully] See you on Saturday morning! Where we will, I assume, be cheering on my wonderful brother-in-law Steve. 

Sunday, Leopold Tuesdale has called for a community meeting. Leopold is the former CEO of the former cereal company Flaky-O’s, until both were acquired in a hostile takeover by Kellogg’s. Leopold was last seen being pulled into a van by Kellogg’s executives, but he has returned. His face is gaunt and it appears he has aged several decades, or perhaps a few very stressful years. He wears a cape and one big leather glove. The topic of the community meeting is the labyrinth that lays just beyond human sight, and the harbingers of that labyrinth, who drive vans full of wooden grates. He also want to discuss parking for the antiques fair, which he feels has gotten out of hand on Grub Street. Monday is a fun dinosaur presentation from local dinosaur expert Joel Eisenberg. This is part of the Applebee’s visiting experts program that invites local scholars to share their knowledge, and also prices jalapeno poppers at in irresistible 3,99 for 12. Wow! With a deal like that, I can’t wait to learn more about those big spitty lizards, or whatever they were.

Tuesday – is the day you’ve been waiting for. Yes, you could have achieved your dreams earlier, but it always seemed easier to plan to do them some day. Well, Tuesday is that day, and now it’s time to finally buckle down and get those dreams going. I wouldn’t delay, because it seems that Wednesday is the day – you die. So stay positive, and get it done quickly. And finally, next Thursday the Night Vale municipal fire authority is holding a mandatory fire drill. When you hear the siren, burn as many things as you can.

This has been the community calend- oh! Oh, I see it! I see it, it is here! Aaaaaaah, it is above me! The [booming sound] the [booming sound]

[“Drones” by Epicenter https://epicentermetal.bandcamp.com]

Part 1. In which the rabbits get their way. Before there were buildings, there were hills. In the hills, there were rabbits. All they wanted from life was food, a bit of sunshine, and to multiply across the land. And so they did. Most stories are happy if you end them at the right time.

Part 2. In which we approach. Aah, to see us then, when we were moving – toward the west, or else toward the east, or else south or north, but it wasn’t the direction. It was the momentum of it. We put ourselves out there, made ourselves available for new opportunities. Never mind the drawbacks, and never mind who gets hurt. That’s a problem for who comes next. We are here, so we can get there. And there’s just nothing else to worry about, but the getting.

Part 3. In which comes the kingdom. Great towers and great halls. A crowd looking upwards and a king looking downwards. What a time to be alive! What a terrible time to be dead! How much the dead are missing out on. Death is stupid, and we must only celebrate life. Those who are gone are gone, and it’s probably their fault anyway. We are alive because of our wits, and because we are naturally inclined to be alive. “How good we are,” we murmur, “and how beautiful our king is.”

Part 4. In which all is thought lost. But then – time came for us too. We weren’t who we used to be, but we also weren’t who we would be next either. There was this awful in-between, and we had to stay in it for so long. A king grew tired on his throne. We all grew so tired.

Part the last. In which we are each born anew. After – there were the buildings. There were the hills. In the hills lived rabbits. And we lived there too. All we wanted was food, a bit of sunshine, and to multiply across the land, and so we did. Most stories are happy if you wait long enough. The [booming sound effect] gives, the [booming sound effect] takes.

Stay tuned next for a slow drifting toward what we’ve always wanted, interrupted by the constant distraction of what seems easiest, and from one discipline of the [booming sound] to another: Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: The universe contains, among other things, black holes, vast clouds of gas and light, endless void, a diamond planet, and your tiny body.