#If like Eric killed himself but nothing was saved or changed

[lesbianwyllravengard]

I watched knock at the cabin bc the premise sounded cool but God the changes from the book are so blatantly homophobic it's gross? Not to mention the ending validates hyper religious cult mindsets like what the fuck

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

Man, I like Daily Wire in concept but Matt Walsh needs to shut the fuck up about video games. The same guy who tried to resurrect the tired old "violent video games are harmful!" crap is now acting like he's the first person to notice that video games are pushing woke nonsense (even though there are about a hundred channels and outlets that have been talking about this for years) but his solution is to, of course, for the right to stop playing video games.

No. Just, no.

This is the same "bury our head in the sand and pretend pop culture doesn't exist" mindset that got us into this situation in the first place. You can't win a war (and there is a culture war going on, no matter how many people on both sides want to pretend otherwise) by retreating from every battlefield. You win by raising awareness of a problem and then offering a real solution.

And it's especially stupid seeing this cultural retreat mindset from someone working for DW because DW actually knows exactly how to fight this battle. They created their own media company to fight against woke Hollywood. Are all their movies and shows good? No, not at all. But they still did the right thing. They put their money where their mouth is, and created an alternative.

A much better example is Angel Studios, which is probably the only Christian movie studio I've ever seen that puts out top quality content with great acting, writing, and production values. They're raking in money and getting their content onto mainstream streaming services as well as theaters. In other words, they're taking their message to the people who need it the most. The ones who aren't already in the echo chamber. Unlike Daily Wire, which only offers its content on its own website through a subscription service to its own audience, and never advertises anywhere.

Another successful example outside of movies is Eric July's Rippaverse. He's been killing it with his comics, with every single one of his campaigns raking in over a million dollars, every cent of which is reinvested back into his business, helping it grow, creating more content, and expanding his already impressive roster of writers and artists. Mainstream writers and artists, by the way. Like Chuck Dixon, the guy who co-created Bane and wrote the seminal Tim Drake Robin comics, among many other credits, and Mike Baron, who wrote some of the best early Punisher comics. Eric had a following before he started the Rippaverse. He runs a successful YouTube channel and he's a regular contributor to The Blaze. He could have walled himself off with his fanbase, wrote comics about ancaps saving the world from the evils of government, and made some money while pandering to the people who already agreed with him. Instead, he went big. He invested his own money, runs his own distribution center, owns his own business with zero outside investors, hires the best talent he can, and offers a product that focuses on story and characters over messaging. His work isn't even "anti-woke". It's just not woke.

And that's what we need in video games. We need alternatives. We need to roll up our sleeves and wade into the deep waters and actually contribute our ideas and our talents. Offer an alternative. Hire people who know what they're doing, who care about quality content first and social engineering never. There is a huge untapped audience who would pay hand over fist for good video games free from microtransactions and woke nonsense.

But retreating is not an option. It's not brave or moral to hide in our echo chambers and scoff at anything fun. Entertainment is necessary. And maybe more importantly, it's not going anywhere. We will never live in a world where people go to work and spend time with their families at home and do nothing else. We need to engage with the world as it is. Not wait around for whatever our idea of a perfect world is to magically form so we can finally interact with it. You can't change society if you keep pretending large swaths of it don't exist.

[singswan-springswan]

It's been discussed by people more eloquent than I, but what they did to Eric in the finale of TLM remake was a sin, a crime, a disservice, and if I ever get over the discomfort, it won't be for a long time.

I simply don't understand their reason to take Ursula's death away from him. On top of that, why would they give it to Ariel? Ariel already saved him once before. The fight against Ursula was supposed to give Eric a turn at being the hero. It was Eric's moment to prove to Triton that he really does love Ariel and is willing to fight for her and protect her and---most importantly---that humans aren't inherently evil in the way Triton believes. Ariel doesn't need to prove herself in this way. She's already shown that she's courageous and brave and unafraid to do difficult things to keep Eric safe. Also in the remake... she knows that Ursula is family, and yet this nuance doesn't seem to mean anything to her? She doesn't hesitate to act in a way that she knows will at least hurt her aunt if not kill her outright, and I understand that the drive to protect Eric is strong but it felt really out of character for Ariel to be the one actively impaling her aunt.

I'm not saying Eric should have done it because ships are his thing (they're not. They're Ariel's thing too, even if Eric is more familiar with the way they actually work n stuff). I just think that when you take into account the status of every character at that point in continuity, it makes sense for Eric to rise to the occasion. It's his chance to save Ariel the way she saved him. It's his chance to prove himself to Ariel's father and gain his trust. He would also be the angriest with Ursula and have the least reason to hesitate when it comes to taking her creepy tentacle shebs down. She tricked him, stole his freewill, used a siren song against him, took the love of his life away and tried to kill her. Given the opportunity to stop her terrorism, he should have been given the same role he had in the original film. Instead he just sits on a rock uselessly after throwing one harpoon, and Ariel leaves his side to do all the heavy lifting.

It makes no sense to me. Is this about presenting Ariel as a strong independent woman who doesn't need a prince to rescue her? Because that's such a flat reason. Like I said, we've already seen Ariel prove herself in the rest of the movie, and the new film did a great job developing her character. She doesn't need this moment of triumph at all. Besides that, there is absolutely nothing wrong with not being a fighter. There's nothing wrong with needing help. Ariel's character would not be cheapened in the slightest by needing Eric to be her hero in that moment, especially because we've already established that she was his hero first. She doesn't need to do it all! I'm tired of this narritive that puts all the pressure of only one half of the ship to deliver in this way, either male or female. A good partnership is one that shares the hard things and gives both people room to use their unique abilities for the benefit of each other. This is something the original movie nailed with Ariel and Eric. They were complementary. Neither one was braver or more heroic than the other, but they presented these qualities differently in a way that didn't detract or rob one or the other of purpose. By taking Ursula's death away from Eric and giving it to Ariel in the remake, Eric's purpose in the story in reduced to Ariel's object of interest (I don't mean in the sense that she has no intense feelings for him or that he isn't her partner). The story is no longer about how they overcome conflict between land and sea together, but rather changes to be how Ariel goes on her own journey and along the way acquires someone to love that affirms and indulges her greatest desires. It was unsettling to see this done to Eric's character. It cheapens the sacrifice he made by going after Ariel when Ursula took her, and it makes him seem foolish for trying to stand against this mighty sea power. He's not arm candy. He's not just a lovable dork she keeps around for the intrigue of his mind and adventurous spirit. Eric is supposed to be a triumphant character that prevails over evil---not because he's powerful---but because he's willing to sacrifice for what he loves. Watching him do a number as a wet rat on a rock while Ariel saves the day does nothing to inspire this sentiment of his character for me. In fact, I was taken aback. It just doesn't make sense that they changed this part of the story when there was nothing wrong with it to begin with and it actually fit in line with both the original and new storyline so neatly. I don't understand it and I really don't like it. It wasn't worth what little it added to Ariel's character to take so much away from Eric. Prince Eric fr doomed by the narritive

[kingedmundsroyalmurder]

Okay, lunch time on Monday, time to bang out some more Kilmeny. This chapter has the usual ableism content warning and an extra strong racism one.

First off, I want to address a point brought up by @gogandmagog, about how this book may have been a satire or a sort of deconstruction of traditional fairy tale romances. I've been thinking it over, and I can see it. It would explain the abrupt tone shift in how Eric treats Kilmeny, if Maud is making a point about how men see women they're not interested in vs. how they see women they want to marry. It's a really bleak point, but honestly I've already noticed that Maud is really unimpressed with marriage in this book and specifically how marriage reduces women. I don't know that the satire angle explains the racism and the abelism -- I think that may just be artifacts of her and the time she lived in -- but it may help a bit with Eric himself.

It's still very unpleasant to read, but it's an interesting perspective to keep in mind.

Anyway. Eric goes back to the orchard to meet Kilmeny, with the understanding that she will introduce him to her aunt and uncle. Only, plot twist, Kilmeny isn't there and it's Neil who meets him instead! Neil, who is fully out of his mind with anger.

“So you’ve come to meet her again. But she isn’t here—you’ll never see her again! I hate you—I hate you—I hate you!”

Scintillating dialog, to be sure.

Eric is, of course, cool and collected in the face of Neil's fury, because why would Eric ever be anything other than detached and superior?

“So you have been making trouble for Kilmeny, Neil, have you?” said Eric contemptuously. “I suppose you have been playing the spy. And I suppose that you have told her uncle and aunt that she has been meeting me here. Well, you have saved me the trouble of doing it, that is all. I was going to tell them myself, tonight. I don’t know what your motive in doing this has been. Was it jealousy of me? Or have you done it out of malice to Kilmeny?”

His contempt cowed Neil more effectually than any display of anger could have done.

The problem with this book... okay, a problem with this book is that, as I think @no-where-new-hero said, LMM doesn't seem to know what to do with her protagonist. He doesn't really have any character traits, he doesn't have any interests, he doesn't really have a personality beyond, like, bored and detached and superior. So when he takes this turn into the monstrous, we have nothing to balance it out. Eric doesn't play music or enjoy gardening or even show an interest in arguing theology. Everything he does -- except visit Kilmeny -- he does out of social obligation. He didn't even go to school because he wanted to, he did it to please his dad. His one thing he actually does because he actually wants to is his relationship with Kilmeny, and now that he is being dreadful to her, there's nothing left. You just go from 'this man is a bit insufferable, isn't he?' to 'wow, I want you dead in a ditch!' with no in between.

Which is a very long-winded way of saying, I hate Eric now and I want him dead in a ditch! And his being smugly superior to Neil -- who is also behaving dreadfully, just to be clear -- is doing nothing to endear him to me.

“She will meet me in her own home then,” said Eric sternly. “Neil, in behaving as you have done you have shown yourself to be a very foolish, undisciplined boy. I am going straightway to Kilmeny’s uncle and aunt to explain everything.”

Neil sprang forward in his path.

“No—no—go away,” he implored wildly. “Oh, sir—oh, Mr. Marshall, please go away. I’ll do anything for you if you will. I love Kilmeny. I’ve loved her all my life. I’d give my life for her. I can’t have you coming here to steal her from me. If you do—I’ll kill you! I wanted to kill you last night when I saw you kiss her. Oh, yes, I saw you. I was watching—spying, if you like. I don’t care what you call it. I had followed her—I suspected something. She was so different—so changed. She never would wear the flowers I picked for her any more. She seemed to forget I was there. I knew something had come between us. And it was you, curse you! Oh, I’ll make you sorry for it.”

We have fully lost control of the craft of storytelling here. This wild shifting in moods might work, if this wasn't the first time we'd ever spoken to Neil on page. There's 'oh, he has an explosive temper', but going from 'oh, I implore you!' to 'I'll fucking kill you!' in a single paragraph needs more setup than just that. 

"He was working himself up into a fury again—the untamed fury of the Italian peasant thwarted in his heart’s desire. It overrode all the restraint of his training and environment. Eric, amid all his anger and annoyance, felt a thrill of pity for him. Neil Gordon was only a boy still; and he was miserable and beside himself."

1- Neil Gordon is 22. Eric himself is only 24. Cool it with your whole, 'oh, he's only a kid!' headpatting.

2- Blood. Will. Out. This is the most strongly established theme in the book at this point.

"Eric, not a little ruffled under all his external composure by this most unexpected and unpleasant encounter, pursued his way along the lane which wound on by the belt of woodland in twist and curve to the Gordon homestead. His heart beat as he thought of Kilmeny. What might she not be suffering? Doubtless Neil had given a very exaggerated and distorted account of what he had seen, and probably her dour relations were very angry with her, poor child. Anxious to avert their wrath as soon as might be, he hurried on, almost forgetting his meeting with Neil. The threats of the latter did not trouble him at all. He thought the angry outburst of a jealous boy mattered but little. What did matter was that Kilmeny was in trouble which his heedlessness had brought upon her."

I am going to very begrudgingly give him a point for actually considering and prioritizing Kilmeny's feelings. He is assuming that he knows what they are, but we've been given enough details thus far that he's probably correct -- Kilmeny clearly did want to keep seeing him, and she probably is quite unhappy about what is happening.

"Presently he found himself before the Gordon house. It was an old building with sharp eaves and dormer windows, its shingles stained a dark gray by long exposure to wind and weather. Faded green shutters hung on the windows of the lower story. Behind it grew a thick wood of spruces. The little yard in front of it was grassy and prim and flowerless; but over the low front door a luxuriant early-flowering rose vine clambered, in a riot of blood-red blossom which contrasted strangely with the general bareness of its surroundings. It seemed to fling itself over the grim old house as if intent on bombarding it with an alien life and joyousness."

There hasn't been a lot of house symbolism in this book, but shall we assume that Kilmeny is the rosebush, the only point of light and beauty in her family?

"The pictured face was a very handsome one, suggestive of velvety dark eyes and vivid colouring; but it was its expression rather than its beauty which fascinated Eric. Never had he seen a countenance indicative of more intense and stubborn will power. Margaret Gordon was dead and buried; the picture was a cheap and inartistic production in an impossible frame of gilt and plush; yet the vitality in that face dominated its surroundings still. What then must have been the power of such a personality in life?"

Margaret Gordon: definitely a witch.

So Eric lays out his case to the Gordons, which is that he met Kilmeny on accident and befriended her, but belated realized that he should tell her grownups about it and so has come to formally ask their permission to continue seeing Kilmeny. Thomas Gordon then says this, and I roll my eyes out of their sockets and into space:

“I don’t need to do that,” said Thomas Gordon, quietly. “I know more of you than you think, Master. I know your father well by reputation and I have seen him. I know you are a rich man’s son, whatever your whim in teaching a country school may be. Since you have kept your own counsel about your affairs I supposed you didn’t want your true position generally known, and so I have held my tongue about you. I know no ill of you, Master, and I think none, now that I believe you were not beguiling Kilmeny to meet you unknown to her friends of set purpose. But all this doesn’t make you a suitable friend for her, sir—it makes you all the more unsuitable. The less she sees of you the better.”

Of course they like him instantly. Of course they do.

And, of course, the reason they think he shouldn't see Kilmeny is the same reason Mrs. Williamson thought he shouldn't. She is young and sheltered and might fall in love with him and be heartbroken, because of course he couldn't mary Kilmeny, she's mute!

Honestly this story would have almost been more interesting if Kilmeny had been ugly. Not that 'oh, you can't marry her, she's ugly!' is any better, but it would require some actual character growth from Eric. Because -- and again, I hate to give this man any credit -- he isn't saying, 'oh, I trust she can be cured so it's fine.' He would like her to be able to speak, but he is fully prepared to marry her even if she remains mute her entire life. As of currently, he seems to see Kilmeny's disability in the same way she sees it: a little inconvenient and mildly unfortunate, but not, like, an insurmountable problem.

"Janet Gordon had hitherto spoken no word. She had sat rigidly upright on one of the old chairs under Margaret Gordon’s insistent picture, with her knotted, toil-worn hands grasping the carved arms tightly, and her eyes fastened on Eric’s face. At first their expression had been guarded and hostile, but as the conversation proceeded they lost this gradually and became almost kindly. Now, when her brother appealed to her, she leaned forward and said eagerly,

“Do you know that there is a stain on Kilmeny’s birth, Master?”

Janet Gordon: also a witch? Definitely a woman who would enjoy a true crime podcast in this the year 2023.

So the Gordons give Eric permission to court Kilmeny, because of course they do. The problem with having a protagonist that everyone loves is that you can't then set up, 'but someone will be mad at them!' as a conflict and have it land. The Gordons were set up as mini-bosses, as it were, but Eric didn't do anything to get on their good side. He just showed up and they went, 'welp, we like you now, if you're sure you want to marry Kilmeny despite her disability and her parantage, then you have our blessing.' It's just a really unsatisfying narrative.

Luckily for me, any good feeling I might have had towards Eric for his being almost decent about Kilmeny's disability vanishes when he gets to see her again and is immediately condescending!

"She did not tell him how glad she was, and how unhappy she had been over the thought that she was never to see him again. Yesterday she would have told him all frankly and fully; but for her yesterday was a lifetime away—a lifetime in which she had come into her heritage of womanly dignity and reserve. The kiss which Eric had left on her lips, the words her uncle and aunt had said to her, the tears she had shed for the first time on a sleepless pillow—all had conspired to reveal her to herself. She did not yet dream that she loved Eric Marshall, or that he loved her. But she was no longer the child to be made a dear comrade of. She was, though quite unconsciously, the woman to be wooed and won, exacting, with sweet, innate pride, her dues of allegiance."

Thesis: Wives and Friends are two different species of women. Friends may be spoken to as equals and confided in and allowed their own way. Wives are meek and demure and do not make eye contact and submit sweetly to your every whim.

I think perhaps Lucy Maud Montgomery was not very excited to get married.

[adamwatchesmovies]

Knock at the Cabin (2023)

M. Night Shyamalan entered the scene as a hot director before falling from grace and recently, has been redeeming himself with a string of well-made mid-to-low-budget thrillers. Knock at the Cabin continues the trend. This film will have your stomach in all sorts of knots as its impossible dilemma makes you wonder what you would do.

Eric and Andrew (Jonathan Groff and Ben Aldridge) are vacationing with their adoptive daughter Wen (Kristen Cui) when four strangers approach their remote cabin. Their leader, Leonard (Dave Bautista) explains that the family must help them save the world, but at a terrible cost: they must sacrifice one of their own.

A more conventional movie would have turned Knock at the Cabin into a siege film. M. Night Shyamalan isn’t interested in telling that story. Outnumbered two to one, with no weapons to effectively defend themselves and distracted by Wen, Andrew and Eric are quickly overwhelmed. From there, the four strangers try to convince them that they're not insane and why they must sacrifice one of their own. Meanwhile, we learn through flashbacks why this family would never sacrifice one of their members.

The middle is where Knock at the Cabin is at its strongest. Whether you think the four strangers (the last three of which are played by Nikki Amuka-Bird, Rupert Grint and Abby Quinn) are bug-nuts or not, the film will eventually convince you of the opposite. Your mind races, trying to think of ways the family might convince these intruders to go away and get professional help. Or maybe the "prophets" will convince the family to make the sacrifice. What makes the dilemma all the more complicated is Andrew and Eric’s background. Although Shyamalan never shows them kissing (I’m not sure why), Jonathan Groff and Ben Aldridge have great chemistry. You believe neither could survive without the other and the thought of killing Wen is unfathomable. Making all this even more complicated is Andrew. Even if he believed the four strangers, you're not sure he cares enough about the world to save it. After being victimized by homophobes and rejected by his parents, nothing will change his opinion of what humanity is like. It makes me wonder if the reason we never see the couple kissing is to make the film more “intolerant friendly” so that someone who might feel uncomfortable by them would be able to see themselves as the person who caused Andrew to become so disillusioned by humanity.

Like many of M. Night Shyamalan’s other films, I’m unsure how Knock at the Cabin would hold up on a second viewing. Toward the end, you’ll be about 90% sure of whether this apocalypse is happening. Once you know that, the movie becomes entirely about whether Andrew and Eric will come to the same conclusion as you. That's fine - not every movie can have re-watch value. Making the ending more ambiguous might have changed that but it could’ve also made all of the theorizing and anxiety felt like it was a waste of time. I haven’t read the book by Paul Tremblay but it sounds like it leans a lot more in the horror direction than this adaptation. I can see why M. Night opted to change the ending. I’m not sure which I like better. I don’t see this as the kind of film I’d watch again, so I’ll explain why now.

The conclusion makes it clear that there was, indeed, an apocalypse about to happen and that by sacrificing Eric, Andrew saved the world. Disappointingly, the couple realizes this at about the same time. If they hadn’t, we could’ve had some scenes where a panic-stricken Eric realizes that they are allowing countless people to die by not listening to Leonard. This would have shown them as a less-than-perfect couple, however, so I can understand why the director opted not to take this route. I can also see why M. Night decided to make the ending conclusive, though I think the film would’ve been more impactful with some uncertainty. In a way, this movie is about faith. Introducing this as a more important theme, a theme that gets reinforced at the end by asking the audience what they believe would’ve made it a much more complicated picture. Then again, I’m not a seasoned director, so what do I know?

Knock at the Cabin presents us with a Gordian knot of a scenario that's tense to see play out. While I don’t think this is the kind of film that will have much re-watch value, it accomplishes what it sets out to do, which certainly makes it worth seeing. (August 10, 2023)

[therealvinelle]

What would be Bella’s/cullens’ reaction if Victoria turned Angela, Ben, Jessica, Mike, Tyler, Lauren, Eric for her new born army? Would the cullens hesitate? Would Bella feel sad?

Well, I don't think Victoria would choose Bella's friends.

She went out of her way to keep the newborn army hidden. She selected Riley as the face of the operation, made him the only leader the newborns ever knew and the decision-maker who'd circumvent Alice. She chose Seattle, the nearest city that would be large enough that people wouldn't notice right away that people going missing or bodies turning up. All the while, she was regularly running around Forks, keeping the Cullens and the wolves on their toes.

Not that she was being Miss Cautious about this whole thing, that newborn army was out of control and she doesn't come across as having been in a good place mentally at all during this whole thing, but she did take steps to disguise her objective.

But, let's say Victoria goes for it anyway.

The Cullens wouldn't hesitate. The humans in Forks are no more to them than the humans in Seattle were. Edward would be the exception, he developed a mild fondness for Angela and Ben and a petty dislike for Mike, but he wasn't present for the battle so I imagine he simply mourns for their humanity that was lost, and moves on with his life.

I think, too him, the most arresting part would be that this would be one more nail in the coffin of Bella's human life. Her human world that he wanted her to remain in is no longer a human world, Victoria has taken that from her. That, I think, as well as the pain this causes Bella, would piss him off and in turn have him blaming himself.

Bella, I think, has a real moment of 'Nam gaze as she realizes that her boyfriend is immortal, her boyfriend's family is immortal, her best friend is immortal, and now her classmates are immortal too. Everyone gets to be immortal and have superpowers except for Bella Swan. What the actual hell.

Moment after she feels guilty for thinking that, and she then feels... bad, but not bad beyond "Well this sucks."

She still tries to insist the Cullens shouldn't kill her old friends, surely if they talk to them and explain they'll calm down. Okay, so maybe Lauren is a lost cause, but surely they'd get through to Angela, or to Mike? Ben?

I don't think she would understand that the Cullens don't have the resources to save her classmates.

The Cullens end up promising they'll try to talk to them (that is, Carlisle will stand on a big rock and yell "We can work this out, guys!" while Jasper stands ready to pull him down), knowing that this will most likely fail. Bella realizes as much, and comes up with a plan to save everyone. The plan is to put blood in a fire hose and spray the newborns with it so they're too distracted to fight, and the Cullens can dismember then piece them together one by one.

Jasper tries to point out this will at best mean the Cullens now have a newborn army of their own, Bella is adamant. The Denali can take a few!

Bella is less adamant when it is pointed out to her that the Cullens won't be able to turn her for several years, they'll be busy with their fuckton of newborns.

How about just Angela live, then? Angela is nice. She'll be a vegetarian, Bella is sure.

The Cullens try not to wonder about why Bella changed her mind just now about saving the lives all of her friends.

The fire hose plan ends up being carried out anyway, they have nothing to lose and Emmett already stole the blood.

Jane arrives to a clearing that looks like the set of "Carrie", newborns divided into neat sections of limbs, torso, and head with Bella avoiding eye contact with those heads, and the Cullens looking distinctly sheepish. Jane promptly has all of them burned, and the Cullens can't even say anything because... yes.

[lightphieric]

So Aoi and Eric are both orphans who suffered extreme trauma as children, including but not limited to witnessing the brutal murders of their younger siblings (the order of events varies between the two of them, of course). Both of them became rather obnoxious and unpleasant adults who have few qualms about traumatizing and/or killing others. The parallels seem pretty obvious to me, but while Aoi gets to be a cool antihero, Eric is just seen as some unlikable jerk.

Like I said earlier, the key difference here is that Aoi and his sister are espers, and Eric and his brother are not. Psychic powers are an incredible tool for digging yourself out of the lowest point in your life, as it turns out. Most of Eric’s problems come from loneliness or a sense of powerlessness, and there but for the grace of God goes Aoi.

First and most obviously, Aoi still has Akane. Eric was forced to dump Chris’s body and never saw him again, but through time travel hijinks, Akane was able to save herself and remain in Aoi’s life. This doesn’t change the fact that he saw her burnt corpse, but having someone by his side to process that trauma with has huge implications for his mental well-being. Meanwhile, Eric has nobody. He lost his mother, he lost his brother, and now even his father is gone, someone he hated but who was still the only family he had for a long time. He’s desperately lonely, which is why he attaches himself so strongly to the first woman who shows interest without noticing the red flags. 

I also think it’s important to note Aoi and Eric's financial situations. Aoi talks about the struggle to scrape together enough money to buy Akane Christmas presents, and one of Eric’s X-Passes is literally the word POOR - which might be intended in a condescending, “Look at this poor pathetic idiot” kind of way, but I think it has a double meaning. The man lives alone on a food service salary, after all. There is nothing quite so stifling and limiting as poverty, but Aoi was able to rise above it and make enough money to put on the second Nonary Game by playing the stock market. And I strongly suspect that Akane’s ability to exchange information with her future self had something to do with this, because it’s not that easy to get rich from nothing off the stock market without the help of insider trading or psychic powers.

All of this is to say that having these powers can give you control over your own life to a certain extent, and that’s something Eric has none of. Whether it’s from being trapped in a death game or more generally, being unable to change his life for the better, he feels powerless and he lashes out because of it. It’s where his violent temper comes from (and while Aoi is a bit of a hothead, it’s unclear how much of that is an act.)

Look, I know how exceptionally weird it is that in a series about people with cool psychic powers, my favorite character is the one loser without them. But I think it’s largely because of that contrast that I like Eric so much. He’s the best audience surrogate Zero Escape has - like it or not, his reaction is probably the closest to how you would react both to being in a death game and learning about the existence of universe-hopping. And seeing him as a foil to Aoi makes him even more interesting. While the espers are burdened by the fate of humankind, the non-espers are burdened by themselves. And ultimately, which burden is worse?

[faecaribou]

Going Gray/Old Age

TW character death

Wilford goes gray. Egos face old age.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33467572

-------

His hair had started to fade.

Truthfully, it had been such a gradual change that Wilford hadn’t noticed it until one day Bim stepped into his television set with a head full of silver and had announced that he was going to stop dying his hair black. Wilford had stopped whatever he had been doing at the time-he can’t remember what it was anymore- to gape.

“You’re going gray?” He had managed to squawk, and Bim grinned at him proudly, mistaking his shock for admiration.

“You bet I am!” Bim said confidently. “I saw how Dr. Iplier looks, and its not that bad.” He preened in a nearby mirror. “I’m a silver fox,” He said to himself, and Wilford startled.

“Dr. Iplier is going gray?” He asked, feeling stunned. He hadn’t seen the doctor in a while, but surely-

“You need to step outside more!” Bim lectured. “I can’t believe you haven’t noticed that the doctor doesn’t have a dark hair left on his head!” He looked back at the mirror, running a hand through his hair. “Of course, I’m not there quite yet, got a few black hairs left-”

“Is everyone going gray?” Wilford demanded, jumping to his feet, and Bim chuckled.

“Practically everyone.” He peered at Wilford. “You’re even losing a bit of color, I think.”

“Excuse me,” Wilford choked out, and leapt to his feet and hurried out.

He sprinted down the hallway, passing Eric, who, Wilford noted almost absently, had become quite the man, as he headed to his room. He whipped the door shut and went to his bathroom, staring at the mirror.

His hair was starting to fade. His bubblegum pink had been reduced to a lighter shade, and amongst the dark hair he had had for so long lay a few hidden gray hairs.

Wilford stared.

Everyone was going gray. It was as if Wilford’s eyes had been opened. Dr. Iplier had let himself go, or so The Host was teasing that evening when Wilford joined the others for the meal. King was featuring a more salt-and-pepper sort of look, which was making Yandere cringe. Yandere and the Host looked the same as ever, but tale-tell wrinkles were beginning to pop up on the Host and Yandere and Eric, easily some of the youngest, were definitely starting to show signs of age. 

Bing and the Googles looked the same as ever, Wilford thought, relieved, until Bing glitched in the middle of the meal and Google Prime had to take him away to be recharged.

“His battery doesn’t last as long,” He said, almost apologizing, and the other Googles muttered anxiously.

“The most recent update didn’t make me feel too great,” Green admitted quietly. “It’s a bit more complex than my systems want to handle.”

“We’re not obsolete yet,” Red muttered furiously, and Oliver stayed quiet save for the sound of his fan running.

Heart beginning to pound, Wilford scanned the others. Captain Magnum looked exhausted, his beard grayer than the rest of his hair, and the gray streaks in Yancy’s hair somehow suited him better, though his tattoos looked faded. Illinois’ hair was frighteningly impeccable, and Wilford knew that the man was stubbornly dying his hair and covering wrinkles with make-up.

“Wanna watch a movie with me after this, Jim?” Asked one of the Jims, hair still dark but looking the same as Eric and Yandere.

“You’ll just fall asleep in the middle,” The other Jim retorted, and Wilford’s stomach sank.

Only Dark looked the same as ever.

“Dark,” Wilford started slowly, and the demon looked over, an eyebrow raised.

“Yes, Wilford?” he asked patiently, and Wilford hesitated, feeling uncertain.

“...Nothing.” Dark hummed but thankfully let it go.

Wilford was never good with years, and normally he didn’t care, but when Silver Shepard and Ed Edgar disappeared he found himself wondering how long he had been alive.

“Google?” He whispered, entering the androids’ room late in the evening, and he opened the door and saw in the dark five shapes.

“Google!” He hissed, and a loading bar shot up.

“Waking…” it read, and it was impossible to tell if the bar was moving impossibly slow or not at all.

Wilford was off like a rocket.

The 1890’s. No, the 1880’s. No, the 1890’s was right the first time. Wilford shook his head. When had he been born? How long had he lived? Surely over a hundred years, maybe a hundred and fifty? He couldn’t remember, he didn’t know-

Dr. Iplier was gone and no one knew until the Jims had stumbled over the Host’s cold body. The double funeral had hurt, but not as much as the tired resignation on the androids’ faces.

They were quick to follow, simply never waking up from their charging pods.

Captain Magnum and Illinois went out with a bang, one disappearing on high seas and never returning after a terrible storm, the other insisting they weren’t too old for one last adventure that they didn’t have the reflexes to come back from.

He couldn’t read their tombstones, and he had to take a trip to the doctor- and didn’t that hurt, remembering they used to have a doctor?- to find out that he needed glasses. His eyesight was starting to fail him, it seemed.

The sensation of glasses seemed familiar but it made his chest feel hollow. He coughed, only half-heartedly covering his mouth.

He got a glimpse of Mark, once. Still just as youthful as ever, but he smelled of decay. Wilford didn’t see the District Attorney anywhere and tried not to think about what that could mean.

He stopped counting who was left.

At some point he stumbled into the Jims and Eric, crying in the hallway. Without a word he wrapped them up in his arms. Dark stood nearby, silently making eye contact with him, and Wilford knew they were all that were left.

He locked himself in his room, for a while. He didn’t know for how long, or really why, but when he looked in the mirror and saw nothing by gray with a faint gleam of pink, he coughed in his elbow and sighed.

He had always known he would go out with a bang, something violent. He didn’t know when that changed.

The door creaked open.

“...Wilford…?” A voice said quietly, and Wilford knew who it was before he looked up.

“Damien,” He sighed fondly, and smiled up at the man’s worried face.

Dark seemed startled at the sight of his friend- whether it was the gray or the glasses, he didn’t know.

“Willi-” Dark deflated. “Wilford,” He said instead, and his voice was soft and miserable. “I didn’t expect you to-” “To be so old?” Wilford finished wryly, gray mustache twitching, and the back of his throat tickled when he tried to chuckle. “Me neither.”

Dark looked like someone had punched him in the gut, and Wilford sighed, drinking in the sight of the still-youthful man. It seemed that Dark and Mark would be stuck alone together, fighting forever. Speaking of the villainous man, Wilford always thought Mark would kill him, not old age.

“I always thought my death would be more violent,” he admitted, and Dark made an injured sound.

“Death?” He repeated frantically, “Wilford, are you-” he choked, and Wilford took pity on the monochrome man.

“Not yet, old friend,” he said soothingly. “But soon.” Dark winced. “I have lived over a hundred years, you know, even if I can’t remember the exact number,” Wilford half-teased, half-reminded. Far longer than a normal man, he left unsaid.

Dark looked miserable, shoulders hunching, and Wilford suddenly realized that the demon had always taken Wilford’s lasting presence for granted, had never stopped to consider that Wilford was not like him.

“Wilford,” Dark croaked. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault that I’m not like you,” Wilford said, not unkindly. He kept his tone strong enough to get the point across, but also soft, because he wasn’t made at Damien, he would never be mad at Damien.

“Besides,” He continued, “Life needs a bit of madness, and if I lived forever I would start to find life boring. We couldn’t have that. I wouldn’t want that.”

Dark stared at him for a moment silently, taking the sight of his old friend in. Then he sighed, and seemed to give up some internal fight.

“What can I do for you,” He said without an asking tone, and Wilford’s eyes almost watered.

“Stay?” He asked, suddenly feeling as terribly alone as he had been up until that moment. “Just until I go?”

Dark trembled, then crossed the room far faster than Wilford could keep up with, faster than Wilford could have moved even in his prime, and wrapped his arms around Wilford tightly. Just when Wilford thought he wouldn’t be able to breathe, Dark loosened his hold.

“I can do that,” His voice cracked as Dark pressed his face into Wilford’s neck. “I can do that.”

[elianamarie-blog]

The Things You Give Pt 14

Steven Hyde x Read

Happy Holidays and New Years everyone! I can’t believe we’re already 14 parts in. I’m so glad you guys are loving the story! Tag list is open if you want to be a part of it :)

Beep, beep, beep.

           The sound of the heart monitor was the only noise resourcing from the room. Hyde sat beside y/n, watching as her chest gently rose and fell, and listened to Red interrogate Eric from the hallway.

           “What do you mean you don’t know what happened?!” Red asked him in his usual gruff tone.

           “I don’t, Dad!” Eric defended. “All I saw is that she was sick and she was trying to get Fez and Hyde to stop fighting and she just dropped!”

           “And you didn’t catch her?” Red fumed. “She could’ve gotten hurt!”

           “Well, I didn’t expect her to fall!” he responded.

           “Red, honey, your yelling isn’t making anything easier,” Kitty said quietly.

           “For me it is!”

           “Red,” she said more sternly.

           “Well, have they figured out what’s wrong with her?” the worried father asked impatiently.

           “No, they haven’t,” Kitty answered calmly.

           “What’s taking them so long?” he grumbled. “We’ve been here for hours!”

           Kitty blinked at her husband. “We’ve been here for twenty-five minutes.”

           “And our daughter has been unconscious for forty! My little girl is in there now and I want answers, dammit!”

           “Red, she’s fine,” Kitty said, trying to soothe him. “She’s tucked in a bed right now with monitoring and her breathing is normal. They drew her blood and we’re just waiting on the test results.”

           “They need to come faster!” he shouted, causing Kitty to frantically look around and smile nervously as her coworkers stared at them.

           “Hey, Mom, if Dad has another heart attack, at least it’ll save us another ambulance bill since we’re already at a hospital,” Eric said grinning, sarcasm bleeding into his tone.

           “Can it, dumbass!” Red snarled.

           Inside the room, y/n groaned, hearing the arguing from outside and slowly opened her eyes, seeing nothing but white. Her head felt someone was taking a jack hammer to her skull. Steven noticed and waited anxiously by her side.

           “Why do they have to be so loud?” she mumbled.

           Steven sighed in relief and grabbed her hand. “Are you okay? How’re you feeling?”

           “I think so,” she croaked. “I feel like crap and I’m tired.”

           Hyde chuckled softly and leaned over, kissing her head softly. “You scared the crap out of me.”

           “What happened? Am I in the hospital?” she asked, not letting go of his hand.

           Hyde paused, searching her face. “You don’t—? You fainted and hit the ground pretty hard. They think you may have gotten a concussion.”

           “Well, that explains my headache,” she grumbled and rubbed her head. She looked at Steven who was still looking at her with worried eyes. “Where is everyone?”

           “Your parents are out in the hall with your brother, Fez is here but went to find ice cream.” He rolled his eyes at the thought but continued. “And everyone else is on their way.”

           “How long have I been out?”

           “About forty-five minutes. I’m glad you’re okay,” he answered and pulled her hand up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss.

           If it wasn’t for her head screaming at her, her heart would be fluttering away like butterflies, but all she wanted to do was numb the pain. A sharp pain surged through her skull, causing her to hiss.

           “What’s wrong? Are you alright?” he asked her.

           She tried to nod, but that caused more pain to her skull. “My head hurts. A lot.”

           “That’s what happens when you smack your head on concrete,” he answered. “You have a pretty good-sized knot on your head.”

            Y/n reached up and felt her scalp until she felt a painful bump behind the side of her head. She winced at her own touched. “Ow.”

           “Maybe you shouldn’t do that,” Hyde chuckled. “I’m going to go get something to drink. Do you want anything?”

           Her stomach churned at the thought of liquids and scrunched up her nose. “No, but I probably should. I’ll take a ginger ale if they have any.”

           “You got it, doll,” he said and walked out just as the doctor was stepping in.

           “Good afternoon, Miss Forman,” the middle-aged, dark haired man said. “I’m Dr. Kipp. I’ve been looking over you while you were out. How are you feeling?”

           “Not gonna lie, Doc, I feel pretty lousy,” Y/n responded. “I’ve been sick for the last couple of days. Not being able to keep anything down, I’m achy all over…I’m starting to wonder if I have the stomach flu or something. On top of that, my head is killing me.”

           “Well, you passed out due to your blood pressure dropping which caused a lack of blood to the brain, but it’s definitely not the stomach flu,” Dr. Kipp answered casually, setting down his clipboard as he went over to the sink to wash his hands.

           “How do you know that?” Y/n questioned him.

           “Well, it can’t be because you’re pregnant.”

                                                  --Time Skip—

           “How’s y/n doing?” Donna asked as she got to the waiting room, flowers in hand.

           “Oh, that’s so sweet that you got her flowers!” Kitty gushed, making Donna smile. “And she’s awake. The doctor is in there right now with her.”

           “Oh, good,” she said and sat down next to Fez who was quietly eating ice cream. “Where did you get the ice cream?”

           “Oh, I told them that y/n was my wife and they let me get ice cream!” he replied stoically.

           “So, you’re telling me that you hit on her and now you’re telling people she’s your wife?” Hyde seethed, holding a cup of coffee in one and a ginger ale can in the other.

           “Can you kids not fight for five damn minutes please?” Red asked impatiently. “It’s bad enough that we’re here, I don’t want to have to hear about your petty drama.”

           “Hey, don’t get mad at me. You’re the reason she’s here in the first place,” said Fez.

           “Why would it be your fault?” Kitty asked Hyde.

           “It’s not!” Hyde replied. “He’s just saying crap so I can knock his teeth in.”

           Kitty and Red squinted their eyes at the teens for a moment. “What on earth is going on here?” Kitty asked, growing frustrated.

           “Nothing,” Hyde answered through gritted, glaring daggers at Fez.

           Fez returned the glare. “You know, Hyde, I often wonder what it would be like to hook up with my best friend’s sister. Don’t you?”

            Hyde’s expression hardened. “It’s a good thing we’re in a hospital because when I break your bones, you’re already here!” Hyde aggressively moved towards Fez, but was stopped short by Eric getting in between them.

           “Okay! That’s enough,” he sang-song. “Hyde, why don’t you sit over there quietly and don’t beat up Fez.” He turned to Fez. “And Fez? Shut the hell up.”

           Hyde jerked himself away. “I’m going to go give this to y/n.”

           Back in the room, y/n felt like the wind had been knocked out of her lungs. “I’m…what?”

           “Pregnant,” he responded in a faux enthusiastic voice. “That was through the blood test. We’re going to have you take urine test as well. So,” he pulled out a plastic cup. “You’re going to pee in this cup and when you’re finished, pull the string and a nurse will come in and collect it. Then, we’ll do a full examination on you to make sure your head is okay.”

           Y/n nodded numbly and mindlessly grabbed the cup in her hand. “Okay…”

           “Probably not the news you were expecting, huh?” he asked.

           Y/n chuckled weakly. “No. Not at all.”

           “Well, I’ll be back soon with your test results.”

           He walked out the door, leaving y/n alone in the room. Her hands felt numb and she felt like there was static all around her. How could she be pregnant? How did she let this happen? And oh God, what was she going to say to Steven? Her eyes widened. Her parents?!

           A sudden heavy weight was shattered onto her chest and her eyes began to water. How was she going to tell everyone? What if her dream came true and she truly was alone? Could she raise a baby on her own? Where would she live? What job would she have to do to support her baby? Was she even going to be a good mom? Will her children grow up to be decent people? What if they’re born with health conditions? Or they fall ill? Can she even count on herself to get out of bed at 2 AM to go to the 24 hour store to buy cough medicine when they get sick? How do you even change a poopy diaper? How is she going to react when they’re teenagers and they’re learning how to drive or get their first boyfriend or girlfriend? What kind of mom was she going to be? What kind father was Steven going to be? Will he even stick around?

           With all these questions swimming through her head, she didn’t notice Steven walk back in. “I got that ginger ale you—hey, you okay?”

           Y/n snapped her head up as she was yanked out of her thoughts, which she silently thanked heaven above for. “Y-yeah, I’m fine.”

           “You sure?” he asked as he set down the drink on the table next to her. “You don’t look fine. In fact, you look kinda pale.”

           “Yeah, um,” she stuttered, swallowing hard and waved her hand casually. “The doctor says I passed out due to lack of blood to the brain. Blood tests came back normal, but he wants me to take a urine test just to be sure.” Not a total lie. Just left out a part.

           “Oh, okay. Do you need help getting to the bathroom?”

           “I think I got it,” she answered truthfully and slowly got out of bed, barley able to feel her legs. She ambled her way to the bathroom, dragging the IV along with her. She felt Steven’s stare burning a hole in the back of her head, but she couldn’t think of what he was thinking right now. She couldn’t. It would drive her to an anxiety attack.

           She closed the door quietly and baby stepped her way to the toilet. She passed by the mirror and did a double take to her reflection. Her ponytail was a complete rats nest, her eyes had dark circles under them, and her normally rosy cheeks had lost all color. She looked half dead and she wanted to cringe away. She turned her head to the side and saw the swelled up bump on her skull. She winced when she saw it and let out a sigh. She really wanted to curl up into a ball and sleep for 72 hours.

           She made her way to the toilet and shakily did her business in the cup. When she was finished, she left in on the counter in the bathroom and pulled the string. After she was finished washing up, she walked out to meet Steven sitting in the chair.

           “Hey,” he said gently whispered.

           “Hey,” she answered in the same manner. “Where is everyone?”

           “In the waiting room. Do you want to see them?”

           Her heart dropped, but she needed to play it cool. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

           He nodded and opened the door to call them in. She got back in bed with Hyde’s help, making sure her IV wouldn’t get pulled out of her arm.

           “Oh, y/n,” Kitty sobbed and rushed over to y/n who was sitting up fully and wrapped her arms around her. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

           Y/n barley reciprocated the hug. “I’m okay, Mom.”

           “When we saw you being loaded up into the ambulance, I thought I was going to die right there,” Kitty responded, stepping away from her daughter.

           “I’m fine, Mom. Really.”

           “What did the doctor say?” she pried.

           “Uh…they don’t know yet,” Y/n replied. “They’re taking a urine sample.”

           “Well, a person fainting is never a good thing,” Kitty stated matter-of-factly. “It means your blood pressure dropped and you weren’t getting enough blood flow to the brain. Those things just don’t happen.”

           “I know. They’re running tests right now,” Y/n said and leaned back against the pillows.

           “When will we find out?” Red pushed.

           “I don’t know,” Y/n responded growing annoyed. “I don’t know anything.” Lie, lie, LIE.

           “Well, we better find out soon,” Red said. “This place gives me the creeps.”

           “If you wanna leave, you can. I’m a big girl, I can leave on my own,” Y/n responded.

           “No, no, I wanna be here in this room when the doctor comes and tells us what’s wrong,” Kitty said stubbornly.

          Y/n’s heart and stomach dropped. There was no way anyone was going to be in this room when the doctor came back with the results. Positive or not, she didn’t need her parents asking questions and then finding out about her and Steven.

           She kept her face and voice as calm as possible. “No, no it’s okay. Really. I don’t know if I want everyone in here anyway. In fact, it’s probably best that I’m alone.”

           “Oh, nonsense. I—”

           “Kitty, if she wants to be alone, then we’ll leave her alone. She’s an adult now. She doesn’t need us in here,” Red said, signaling to his wife that they leave. “Besides, the Packers’s game is on and I wanna go home.”

           Kitty sighed, annoyed. “Fine. Fine, I’ll leave, but I want to hear everything, missy.”

           Y/n’s eyes widened a fraction and her heart beat violently against her blood cage. She could practically feel her blood pumping through her veins. She nodded numbly. “Okay.”

           Kitty nodded and kissed y/n on the head before leaving. She felt some tension leave her body as she watched her parents leave. She leaned her head back against the pillow and closed her eyes, feeling completely drained.

           “Are you okay?” Donna asked.

           “Yeah,” she mumbled. “Just…feeling depleted.”

           “Well, you can’t go to sleep yet,” Hyde said. “You might have a concussion.”

           “I want sleep,” she whined.

           “I know, but I’d rather you be exhausted than not wake up at all,” he responded.

           She glared at him through half open eye lids and grumbled, “I hate you.”

           He chuckled lightly. “I know.”

           The door to the room opened revealing Kelso, Fez and Jackie.

           “Hey, y/n, how are you feeling?” Kelso asked.

           “Bout as great as I look,” she replied, a weak smile playing her lips.

           “So, super sexy,” Fez responded cheekily but that smile quickly faded when Hyde punched his shoulder. “Ow.”

           “Remember: Respect,” was all Hyde said before sitting back down.

           “I heard what happened,” Kelso responded. “And Brooke made me bring you these.” He handed her a small bouquet of yellow daisies and lilies.

           Y/n chuckled, accepting the flowers. “Tell Brooke I said thank you for the nice gesture. And tell her to bring the baby around soon. I want to meet my niece.”

           Kelso’s face brightened. “You…you really think of her that way?”

           Y/n nodded. “Why wouldn’t I? We’ve all been best friends since we were little and it only makes sense that we look at each other more than just friends now.”

           “Like lovers?” Fez asked her seductively.

           “Do you have a death wish?” Hyde spat.

           “Okay, Steven that’s enough,” Y/n said as sternly as she could. “And Fez, shut up.”

           Fez pouted and went and sat in the corner of the room.

           “You know what? My mind is made up,” Kelso said. Y/n stared at him curiously, everyone joining in.

           “Kelso, in order for your mind to be made up, you have to have a brain,” Eric commented.

           Kelso shot Eric a glare before turning his head back towards y/n and Hyde. “I’ve been spending a lot of time with Betsy lately and Brooke is really starting to trust me.”

           “Okay, and that makes up your mind for?” Y/n asked him.

           “Hang on, just let me finish,” he said smiling. “Brooke is starting to trust me so much she’s even allowing me to pick the godparents.”

           “Oh, that’s great!” Y/n gleefully responded. “I’m so happy for you.”

           “And there’s only one rule. It can’t be Fez,” Kelso added on.

           Fez nodded. “That is a good rule.”

           “Godparents?” Donna mumbled to Eric. “Like we need any more responsibilities.”

           “I know,” Eric whispered back, rolling his eyes. “Such a burden.”

           “I’ve been thinking about it a lot and it’s a big deal. So,” Kelso said, stepping closer to the bed where Eric and Donna sat. “Eric, Donna.”

           “Uh, oh,” Eric sang-song.

           “Please scooch over so I can ask Hyde and y/n if they’ll be Betsy’s godparents?”

           Y/n looked at Hyde with excited eyes. “Really?!”

           “What the hell?!” Eric exclaimed.

           “Hyde and y/n?” Donna asked insulted.

           “You picked Hyde and y/n?” Jackie asked, equally insulted. “Why didn’t you ask someone else? Like me?”

           “Because you’re single,” Kelso deadpanned.

           Jackie crossed her arms. “And?”

           “And you need to be in a relationship to be a godparent,” Kelso responded slowly like he was scared to continue speaking. “That’s why they call it godparents. You can’t be single and be a godparent. That’s just stupid.” He laughed and rolled his eyes.

           Jackie stared at him in disbelief, trying to make sense of what he said. “That barley makes any sense, you moron.”

           “Hey, hey, hey, he chose us. Let him speak,” Y/n said not trying to contain her glee. “Not that I’m questioning your choice because, you know, you chose us, but why us?”

           “Because I really trust you and I think you’d be fantastic with Betsy,” he responded sweetly.

           “And you don’t think we won’t?” Eric asked.

           “Yeah, you don’t trust us?” Donna chimed in.

           “Well, to be fair, I’ve seen you drop almost everything you’ve held in your hands,” Kelso responded. “And you’ve never really taken care of a baby.”

           “Yes we have!” Donna defended. “Remember that time last year when Laurie had to babysit that one baby and I ended up changing her diaper when she couldn’t? I was a freakin’ natural!”

           “Yeah, I mean, if you gave me the honor of being godmother, I would be popular, head cheerleader, and voted best legs. This would give me another title,” Jackie argued.

           “Would you guys relax?” Hyde asked everyone. “It’s not that big of deal.”

           “Yeah, it’s not like he’s shunning you guys,” Y/n responded.

           “You’re all still going to be aunts and uncles,” Kelso defended.

           “Yeah, that’s easy for you to say,” Jackie grumbled and joined Fez in the back.

           “We can be good godparents,” Eric argued. “You can trust us.”

           “Eric, remember Goldie, the goldfish?” Y/n asked.

           “Yeah,” he responded.

           “Remember how you killed Goldie by taking him out of the fish bowl?”

           “I needed to hug something,” Eric answered coldly. “Besides, I’m not going to have to flush a baby down the toilet!”

           “Either way, man, thanks. I’m honored,” Hyde said and clapped his hand with Kelso’s and pulled him in for a bro hug.

           “If I have another kid, I’ll make you two godparents. I promise,” Kelso said.

           Eric huffed. “Yeah, yeah.”

           “Alright, I have to take a leak,” Hyde announced.

           “And I’m going to go find some more ice cream,” Fez said.

          “Can you guys make sure y/n doesn’t fall asleep?” Hyde continued.

           “You got it pal!” Kelso responded and watched as Hyde and Fez walked out.

           “I’m not a child,” Y/n responded once they were out of ear shot. “I am perfectly capable of looking after myself, thank you.”

           “Kelso!” Fez called out and barged back into the room. “Kelso, come quick! There’s a hot nurse fight happening downstairs! Hurry before it ends!”

           “See ya,” Kelso said and scrambled out the room, leaving Jackie, Eric, and Donna alone.

           “Yeah, I’m leaving too,” Jackie said pouting. “I don’t want to sit here and be reminded that I wasn’t picked for godparent. I may have to do some shopping therapy to get over it. Bye!” She squealed and walked out, leaving just the twins and Donna.

           “Do you need anything sis?” Eric asked. “Some water? Fluff up your pillows? Relinquish your title of godparent over to me?”

           Y/n gave her twin a look before scoffing. “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

           “Fine. I’ll just go see if they have any teddy bears in the gift shop that reads ‘Not Quite the Best Godparents’ and maybe it’ll be tear absorbent!” With that, he stormed out the room, leaving Elena in stunned silence.

           Donna rolled her eyes. “I better go after him. Last time I left him alone while he was upset, he thought I didn’t care about him anymore and didn’t speak to me for three days.”

           She left, leaving y/n alone in the room. Again. She leaned back once more, enjoying the silence, but now that she was alone again, she realized just how loud the silence was. All she could think was pregnant, pregnant, pregnant.    

           “What am I going to do?” she mumbled to herself.

           The door to the room opened again; Dr. Kipp entering once more.

           “Hi Miss. Forman,” Dr. Kipp greeted. “We got your test results back.”

           She gulped. “And?”

           He sat down on the stool next to her bed and looked her in the eyes. “It’s positive.”

           Her heart dropped completely, and it felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. “I’m pregnant?”

           “I know this is a lot to take in, but we need to gather some more information from you so we can determine how far along you are. But first the basics. What’s your full name?”

           “Y/f/n y/m/n Forman.”

           He scratched her answer down on his clipboard. “Birthday?”

           “May 18, 1959.”

           “So, that makes you eighteen years old, correct?”

           Y/n nodded.

           “Okay, and your current address?”

           “416 Edlebrook Ave.”

           “Beautiful,” the doctor responded and looked up from his clipboard. “Do you know who the father is?”

           Tears started to burn her eyes as she nodded her head. “I do.”

           “What’s his name?”

           “Steven James Hyde.”

           “When was your last menstrual cycle?”

           “Somewhere in mid September.”

           “And today is October 19,” he said more to himself. “So, you are about three weeks along. Now, I’m going to give this information to the nurse and have her give you a pamphlet and a referral to an OB/GYN. I’ll have them give you a call to set up an appointment. Do we have permission to leave a message with someone if you’re not available?”

           “Uh…no, just me is fine, thanks. I’m not ready to tell people yet.”

           He nods. “Understandable. Now, let’s look at your head and see how you’re doing.” As he took out a flashlight and started examining her eyes, Hyde walked back in the room.

           “Hey, Doc. How’s she doing?” he asked.

           “Well, I’m not seeing any signs of concussion, so that’s good.” He turned off the light and started feeling around underneath her jaw to the back of her head where he felt her bump. She winced and he took note of it. “She seems great besides that nasty bump. Just put some ice on it if it starts to hurt and take some aspirin for the pain. Otherwise, you’re good to go.”

           “What about her test results?”

           Dr. Kipp glanced at y/n and saw her terrified look. He glanced back at Steven who looked worried. “Test results came back normal and she’s perfectly healthy.” He noticed Steven visibly relax. “Anything else, she may discuss with you at her discretion.”

           Y/n mouthed a thank you to the doctor who gave her a subtle nod and finished writing his notes on his clipboard. “I’ll have a nurse discharge you. You have a good rest of your night and rest up.”

           Y/n nodded. “Thank you.”

           With that, he left the room, leaving y/n wanting to vomit—and not from feeling sick this time. She continued to sit in her bed, not being able to properly process the information. Her world felt fuzzy and she felt like she was going to pass out for a second time. She could hear Steven talking to her, but it was all garbled and muffled as if she were underwater. Was her dream right? Was she going to be disowned by her family? Is she going to disappoint her mother? Oh no, how is Red going to take this? She and Steven are dead. Dead like road kill.

           She heard Steven’s muffled voice again, but this time louder. She blinked and looked up at Steven. “I’m sorry, what?”

           He knitted his eyebrows at her. “I said, are you okay? Do you need help getting dressed?”

           She shook her heavy head and slowly slid out of bed. “I should be okay.” She untied her hospital gown, allowing it to pool around her feet. She shivered as the cold air hit her bare skin and turned to see her clothes balled up in a plastic bag. She slowly started dressing herself and felt Hyde’s eyes burn into her the whole time.

           She finally looked up at him as she finished putting on her pajama top. “What’s up?”

           “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting different.”

           She nodded, not being able to look him in the eye. “Yeah, I think so. Just still not feeling well and feeling a little disoriented from the fall. But I think I’m good.”

           He eyed her for a minute. “Okay,” he responded slowly. “As long as you don’t pass out on me again.”

           She chuckled. “I think I’ll be okay.”

           A knock came at the door and the nurse walked in. “Okay, Miss Forman. Here are your doctor’s notes to help you feel better. Plenty of rest and fluids. And—” She noticed Steven listening to her and she looked back down at the pamphlet in her hands and slid the doctor’s notes over it. “Here’s everything you else need to know. If you have any questions, there’s a number you can call and if you don’t get better or start to feel worse, come on back in.”

           Y/n thanked her and quietly gathered the rest of her stuff and headed out with Steven. He guided her slowly into the camino and started up the car. She rested her elbow on the windowsill of the door and leaned her head into her hand, feeling like sleep will overtake her any minute now. Hyde placed a gentle hand on her thigh and lovingly rubber circles with his thumb.

           “Let’s get you back in bed, yeah?”

           She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, not being able to form words in fear she would start crying.

           The drive home was deathly quiet as rain started to fall. The only noise emitting was outside as the rain fell onto the windshield. Not being able to handle the silence, Hyde reached over and turned on the radio, allowing the music to softly fill the car. It eased the tension slightly, allowing y/n to relax.

           He pulled up in front of a supermarket and put the car in park.

           “What are we doing here?” she croaked.

           “Do you want some soup?”

           She gave him a small smile. “That would be nice. Thank you.”

           He nodded and got out of the car, leaving it on so the heater would warm up y/n. Ever since the hospital, she’d been cold and not able to heat up as fast as she normally would. She shivered, realizing she didn’t bring a jacket or her robe. She looked around the car and noticed a blanket behind the driver’s seat. She wrapped her cold fingers around the soft material and realized it was their sex blanket. She crunched up her nose a little, noticing some stains. “Ugh, gross,” she murmured before placing the clean side on her. The stench of sex filled her nostrils, but luckily it didn’t upset her stomach more than it already was.

           She waited in the car for a few more minutes with the blanket pulled up to her chin and listened to the music. Paul Anka came on, singing (You’re) Having My Baby.

           “Would you look at that,” she grumbled and changed the station. Stevie Wonder’s Isn’t She Lovely was on playing. “What the…” she grumbled and changed it to another station. A country song this time was playing. One that y/n didn’t know, but it was better than the others, so she left it on. She listened to the lyrics as they went:

           The girls in New York City, they all march for women's lib And better homes and garden shows, the modern way to live And the pill may change the world tomorrow, but meanwhile, today Here in Topeka, the flies are a buzzin' The dog is a barkin' and the floor needs a scrubbin' One needs a spankin' and one needs a huggin' Lord, one's on the way

Oh gee, I hope it ain't twins, again.

             “Are you kidding me?” She reached over and turned off the radio, choosing to sit in silence.

           Just then the driver’s door opened and Steven clambered inside with a container of chicken soup in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other. “Here you go, doll.”

           “Awe, thank you, baby.” She grabbed the container from his hands and allowed the warmth to thaw her icy ones.

           “You turned off the music?” he questioned and started to beat the pack against the heel of his hand.

           “Yeah, there was nothing good on.” Technically not a lie.

           “Ah, makes sense,” he responded and noticed the blanket. He snorted teasingly. “Cold?”

           “No, no, I’m burning up actually. The blanket was so I could feel like I’m in hell.”

           He threw his add head back laughing. “Take it easy, Firecracker. If I hada known you were cold, I would’ve given you my jacket.”

           She smirked at him. “Nah, this is fine. Thanks. Besides, I wouldn’t want you to be cold.”

           “I’ll be fine,” he said and stuck a cigarette between his lips.

           Y/n’s eyes widened and quickly ripped it from him mouth.

           “What the hell, y/n?”

           “Uh, I’m still not feeling well enough. I don’t want hurl all over your car.”

           He scrunched up his nose at her. “Fine. Fair point. But I’m smoking when I get back!”

            Y/n shook her head at him. “What a rebel.”

           “Damn straight,” he responded and turned the car on. “Don’t forget who you’re with.”

           “I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

           He smiled at her before backing up and driving them home for the night.

                                                 --Time Skip—

           The next couple of days were brutal for y/n. Kitty wouldn’t stop interrogating her and y/n finally told something made up to get her off her back. Kitty didn’t believe her, but she backed off knowing she’ll be back again. She wanted so badly to tell Steven about her pregnancy, but every time she tried, it would come out a different sentence.

         “I’m,” she would start, but right when she would look into his baby blue eyes, she would panic. “hungry. I’m hungry, starving! Can we go get something to eat?”

         He would give her a weird look before agreeing and leaving to buy her food.

           On top of that, morning sickness would rear its ugly head and she would end up being sick at the most random of times. She would be sitting down in the basement with her friends, feeling fine, but then she would feel her lunch coming back up and she would have to haul ass to the nearest restroom.

           Everyone was worried about her, trying to get her to go back to the doctor, but she already knew. She had secretly made the appointment with the OB/GYN and wasn’t going to be able to see her until two weeks out. Until then, she had to keep lying and making excuses.

           “It’s been almost a week,” Eric said one afternoon as they were all huddled into the basement. “You really should go back to the doctor.”

                      “I’d rather not,” Y/n said. “Going to the doctors for every sniff and cough is not my thing.”

                     “But it’s not just a sniffle or a cough,” he pointed out. “It’s like one minute you’re fine and then the next you’re throwing up Mom’s tuna casserole.”

                  “That was a long night,” she countered, remembering that night as she had to lay on the floor next to the toilet for hours because she couldn’t stop throwing up.

             “Well, can you still keep down fluids?” Donna asked. “Like, chicken broth, orange juice, and tea?”

           “Yeah, those are fine,” Y/n responded. “I just can’t seem to digest solid foods. But I was able to drink apple juice the other day with some bread. I’m also not nauseas all day anymore. I think I’m getting better.”

             “Well, if you’re feeling better, wanna go shoot some hoops?” Kelso asked.

             “Nah, but you guys can,” Y/n responded. “Me and Donna can just sit and ogle.”

             “I knew you were checking me out,” Kelso purred and rubbed his chest.

             “Not you, you dork,” Y/n said. “Hyde and Eric.”

                      “You ogle at me?” Eric said disgusted. “That’s gross.”

             “No! Donna is, you dumbass!” Y/n said and stood up while Eric laughed. “Moron.”

             She walked outside to the driveway with everyone behind her. As they reached the driveway, the boys split up into their group while Donna and y/n moved away to watch from the porch.

             “So, Hyde, how’s it been with you and y/n?” Kelso asked under his breath, making sure the girls couldn’t hear.

             “You know, things are going good, but with her being sick this past week, it’s been kinda hard not getting any action,” Hyde responded.

             “Ewwwww! Could you please not?” Eric exclaimed. “I told you I don’t wanna hear it.”

             “I know, that’s why I did it,” Hyde laughed and tossed the ball to Eric. “Your play. Go.”

             The girls watched from the porch, admiring the way their men looked. Y/n wanted so badly to jump Hyde’s bones, but didn’t want to puke in the middle of it and ruin the mood. She and Donna chatted idly as they watched their men get sweaty and hot.

             “Look, I know he’s your brother, but damn does he look hot when he’s all concentrated,” Donna swooned as she watched Eric block Fez’s slam dunk.

             “Really? I think he looks constipated,” Y/n laughed.

             In the middle of the play, Eric turned, facing them while trying to block Kelso from making his shot. The concentration he wore on his face made Donna drool but laugh.

             “You’re right, he does look constipated,” she agreed and laughed even more.

             “I know you don’t think so, but Steven just looks so good when he’s moving around like that,” Y/n said and stared at her boyfriend. “I mean, when he gets all sweaty and flushed, it makes me want him so bad.”

             Donna chuckled. “So, how have you guys been?”

             “We’ve been good. You know with me being this sick, we haven’t really gotten the time to do it or anything.”

             “From the looks of it earlier and hearing Eric scream ‘ew’ makes me believe that Hyde already said something like that to him,” Donna laughed once more.

             Y/n chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

             They fell into a comfortable silence as they watched the four boys play basketball. The entire time, y/n’s heart was hammering against her chest, debating on telling Donna right there. She couldn’t take keeping a secret this big from her best friend. Besides, if she wasn’t going to tell someone soon, she was going to explode.

             “Donna,” she said shakily. “I have something to tell you.”

             Seeing how serious her tone was, Donna perked up. “What?”

             “I need you to promise me that you’re not going to freak out. Because if you do, everyone will hear it and I can’t have that right now.”

             Donna’s heart started beating wildly against her own ribcage, now nervous and worried. “Okay?”

           “And whatever happens, promise me you’ll still be my friend?”

           “Of course! What’s going on?”

             Y/n took a deep breath before looking Donna in the eye. At that moment, she wanted to crawl up in a bawl and just cry. But she knew she couldn’t; She had to be strong. So instead she let out a shaky breath.

             “I’m pregnant.”

@lieswithoutfairytales​ @mdittyz123​ @n-dg-wm​ @undead-sierra​ @random-thoughts-003​ @taysirene​ 

[the-hidden-writer]

And Into The Fire

Chapter 1: A Phone Call

Summary:  Months after the Mitchells saved the world, Linda gets a phone call asking if she's seen two defective Pal MAX bots. Powerful people are after Eric and Deborabot 5000, and it's up to the Mitchells to protect them.

Check reblogs for AO3 link!

A Phone Call

It all started with a phone call.

6 months had passed since the “robot apocalypse”, and the world had fallen back into normality. In fact, since the robot apocalypse was so brief, it was now nothing more than a memory and a conversation topic to use as small talk. Things like “Where were you when the robots took you?” or “What did you do inside the fun pods?”. All in all, life had gone back to normal.

But not for the Mitchells. No, their lives were probably changed for good.

Katie had settled well into college. Now that she finally had her Dad’s approval, she felt free to have as much fun as she wanted without the burden of letting down her family. She regularly sent them updates of her work, and it made her insanely happy when she heard that Dad had made an effort to watch them fully, even if he didn’t quite understand them. That was okay though. It’s the thought that counts.

Back at home, things weren’t the same without Katie. Every time one of them stared too long at the empty chair at the table, it felt like a little stab to the heart. The Mitchells were a team, despite their differences, and one missing member was enough to knock their whole household off-kilter.

But they’d still managed to form a similar routine to their old one, just with one less Mitchell. Just Rick, Linda, Aaron, Monchi… and Eric and Deborahbot 5000.

The addition of the two childlike defective androids to their family was the biggest change of all. Once Pal was defeated and everyone was free, the pair had simply stood and looked confused in the midst of it all. The Mitchells (still high on adrenaline) had turned to leave when Eric called out:

“Mother! Wait!”

When he had the family’s attention, he continued. “Are you… satisfied?”

“Huh?” Rick voiced all of their confusion.

“Are you satisfied?” Eric repeated in the same, dry (but strangely uncertain) tone.

When nobody replied, Deborahbot had attempted to clarify. “Are you satisfied... with our performance?”

It was at that moment that a feeling of dread began brewing in Linda’s gut. She knew little to nothing about robots, and less about computer language, but something about the way the bots were speaking resonated with her. Katie had gone through a stage a few years earlier where she needed validation to stay confident but was too anxious to directly ask for it. She wasn't even sure if robots could have anxiety, but...

The fact that this seemingly unrelated memory had sprung to mind was enough for Linda to make her decision.

“They’re coming with us.” She stated firmly, and that was that. Rick had tried to protest but his argument was weak and, after taking one look at the bots that helped save the world, he couldn’t say no to their wobbly faces.

So Eric and Deborahbot came home with them and unofficially joined the Mitchell family. Luckily for the Mitchells themselves, the bots’ shenanigans were enough to help fill in the void left by Katie. The family had found their routine, they weren’t being hounded by the press anymore, and they’d found their new normal.

And then one ordinary day, the house phone rang.

Before Linda (the only human in the house at that moment) had time to react, two identical shouts of “Unknown number!” came in from the living room.

Eric and Deborahbot announcing the caller had been endearing at first. Each time any phone rang, they would happily shout the caller’s name straight away.

However after a few months of it, as much as Linda hated to admit it, it had gotten old and more than a little annoying. But the boys couldn’t help it and it brought them pleasure, so Linda had decided to let it slide for the time being.

Then when the phone rang after a particularly exhausting day and the bots had called out the name of a work colleague, Rick snapped. He yelled at the bots in what Linda thought was a very harsh way- so harsh that she was certain that they would be crying if they could display human emotions.

Rick had felt extremely guilty later that night and apologised (due to Linda’s nagging) in the morning. The bots immediately forgave him, but Linda noticed during the following week they would fall silent whenever Rick passed them or when the phone rang. To try and make up for it, she promised them that they could shout the caller’s name whenever Rick wasn’t home. They’d hugged her when she said that, and Linda felt like she’d done something right. It was a nice feeling.

“Mother! The phone is ringing!” Deborahbot called, snapping Linda back to the present. She’d been lost in her memories for a moment, so she quickly ran to answer the house phone.

(The bots weren’t allowed to answer the phone for obvious reasons.)

“Hello?” She answered, smiling when she noticed Eric and Deborahbot peeking their heads around the door to watch her.

“Hi, uh, is this the Mitchells?”

The voice on the other end was familiar, but Linda couldn’t quite put a name to it. Was it a parent from one of her school’s kids? No, because then why would they have her house number. Then who?

“Yes, this is Linda Mitchell. Sorry, who is this?”

“Uh, hey, it’s Mark Bowman.” So that’s where she recognised the voice. It belonged to the man whose face had been plastered all over the news and had narrowly avoided jail time for causing the robot apocalypse.

“What can I do for you, Dr Bowman?” She asked, trying not to let the sneer into her voice. She also tried not to notice the way Eric and Deborahbot visibly stiffened (an accomplishment for them) at the sound of the name.

“Right, um,” the man sounded oddly hesitant, “as you probably know, I’ve been going through a lot of official checks, to prove that the robots no longer pose a threat and stuff.”

His hesitance made sense then. He was probably being held at gunpoint by the CIA.

“Mhmm.” Linda nodded while simultaneously using her free hand to shoo her boys away. She didn’t know whether they could listen in to phone calls or not, but her instincts were telling her that they would not want to listen to whatever their creator was about to say.

“Well one of those checks includes making sure that all the Pal Max bots are permanently offline, you get what I’m saying?”

Linda wishes she didn’t. “Yeah.”

“Let’s just say that one took a while. Each bot has a unique serial number and was designed to send out a notification to Pal Labs if they got completely broken. And since there are like, millions of these things it took ages to sort them out, haha.”

“Understandable.” Said Linda pleasantly, although her motherly instincts were firing off the charts.

“So, uh, long story short there are two of these Pal MAX bots still missing. The rest have all been accounted for from these distress signals, but these ones seemed to have disconnected from Pal servers before the mass shutdown. Since they’re still online I’m guessing they’re defective.”

Linda felt a sudden, impulsive urge to kill Mark Bowman. This was not a first-time occurrence.

“So this is basically a super long way of asking if you’ve seen any rogue Pal MAX bots still online anywhere? Maybe back when you were saving the world?”

She had to resist the urge to hang up right then and there. Instead, she put on her sweetest teacher voice. There was truly no better way to mask her emotions.

“Hmm, no, sorry I don’t think we did.” She paused. “Even if we did, if the robots are defective then surely they can’t be that dangerous?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Bowman exclaimed suddenly before clearing his throat and composing himself. “But uh… these people wanna be thorough. Can’t risk another apocalypse, y’know?”

Linda was about to respond when she heard a strange beeping sound on the other end, accompanied by shuffling.

“Uh, thanks Mrs Mitchell sorry again about the apocalypse bye-”

She’d been hung up on before she had time to react to Dr Bowman’s words.

On the inside, she was glad that he hadn’t pressed further about the missing defective robots. She’d been half-expecting him to already know their whereabouts and for there to be a confrontation.

But there hadn’t, and he’d hung up, and something about the whole thing seemed off.

She began to formulate a plan in her mind. Firstly, her robo-boys’ safety was the top priority of the situation. Once Rick came home she could tell him about the phone call and they could think of protection methods more clearly.

All she knew for certain for the time being was that the bots wouldn’t be leaving the house for a while.

~-.-~

*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*

If the beeping wasn’t startling enough, the aggressive hand signals the agents were sending him caused him to panic.

He decided to hang up quickly. “Uh, thanks Mrs Mitchell sorry again about the apocalypse bye!” It probably sounded rude, but he really couldn’t care at this point.

“So…” he nervously began, looking up from the phone screen but not wanting to make eye contact with any of the agents. “Did you find anything?”

“The call was intercepted by two separate individuals.” One of the younger agents seated at a computer piped up.

Mark gulped.

“It seems as though we were right, Dr Bowman.” Said Agent Ward, the CIA woman who had first initiated the search for the missing Pal MAX bots. “They’re targeting the Mitchells.”

Taking a deep breath, Mark tried to calm his nerves. He’d lost almost everything in the span of a few months- a good chunk of his self-confidence included.

“Now what?" He asked. "You’re gonna warn them, right?”

“Find them yet, Travis?” Agent Ward asked another of the agents, ignoring Mark completely.

“Hey! You didn’t answer me!”

“We’ve managed to trace the interception to its sources, Ma’am.” The other agent replied, also ignoring Mark. “The coding here does look like Pal MAX, but we can’t actually access it. Since they’re online, the defences are strong. It would take a few days to get through the firewall even with Pal Labs resources, let alone commence a rewrite.”

The agents only turned their attention back to Mark when he snorted when trying to hold in a laugh.

“Of course it’d take ages,” he scoffed, “these are Pal bots. They’re designed to be pretty much impossible to be hacked by humans.”

“Well then,” Agent Ward towered over him intimidatingly, “you’d better get to work.”

Comments make my day! :)

[foreverlogical]

Donald Trump’s descent into madness continues.

The latest manifestation of this is a report in The New York Times that the president is weighing appointing the conspiracy theorist Sidney Powell, who for a time worked on his legal team, to be special counsel to investigate imaginary claims of voter fraud.

As if that were not enough, we also learned that former National Security Adviser Michael Flynn, who was pardoned by the president after pleading guilty to lying to the FBI, attended the Friday meeting. Earlier in the week, Flynn, a retired lieutenant general, floated the idea (which he had promoted before) that the president impose martial law and deploy the military to “rerun” the election in several closely contested states that voted against Trump. It appears that Flynn wants to turn them into literal battleground states.\

None of this should come as a surprise. Some of us said, even before he became president, that Donald Trump’s Rosetta Stone, the key to deciphering him, was his psychology—his disordered personality, his emotional and mental instability, and his sociopathic tendencies. It was the main reason, though hardly the only reason, I refused to vote for him in 2016 or in 2020, despite having worked in the three previous Republican administrations. Nothing that Trump has done over the past four years has caused me to rethink my assessment, and a great deal has happened to confirm it.

Given Trump’s psychological profile, it was inevitable that when he felt the walls of reality close in on him—in 2020, it was the pandemic, the cratering economy, and his election defeat—he would detach himself even further from reality. It was predictable that the president would assert even more bizarre conspiracy theories. That he would become more enraged and embittered, more desperate and despondent, more consumed by his grievances. That he would go against past supplicants, like Attorney General Bill Barr and Georgia Governor Brian Kemp, and become more aggressive toward his perceived enemies. That his wits would begin to turn, in the words of King Lear. That he would begin to lose his mind.

So he has. And, as a result, President Trump has become even more destabilizing and dangerous.

“I’ve been covering Donald Trump for a while,” Jonathan Swan of Axios tweeted. “I can’t recall hearing more intense concern from senior officials who are actually Trump people. The Sidney Powell/Michael Flynn ideas are finding an enthusiastic audience at the top.”

Even amid the chaos, it’s worth taking a step back to think about where we are: An American president, unwilling to concede his defeat by 7 million popular votes and 74 Electoral College votes, is still trying to steal the election. It has become his obsession.

In the process, Trump has in too many cases turned his party into an instrument of illiberalism and nihilism. Here are just a couple of data points to underscore that claim: 18 attorneys generals and more than half the Republicans in the House supported a seditious abuse of the judicial process.

And it’s not only, or even mainly, elected officials. The Republican Party’s base has often followed Trump into the twilight zone, with a sizable majority of them affirming that Joe Biden won the election based on fraud and many of them turning against medical science in the face of a surging pandemic.

COVID-19 is now killing Americans at the rate of about one per minute, but the president is “just done with COVID,” a source identified as one of Trump’s closest advisers told The Washington Post. “I think he put it on a timetable and he’s done with COVID ... It just exceeded the amount of time he gave it.”

This is where Trump’s crippling psychological condition—his complete inability to face unpleasant facts, his toxic narcissism, and his utter lack of empathy—became lethal. Trump’s negligence turned what would have been a difficult winter into a dark one. If any of his predecessors—Barack Obama, George W. Bush, Bill Clinton, George H. W. Bush, and Ronald Reagan, to go back just 40 years—had been president during this pandemic, tens of thousands of American lives would almost surely have been saved.

“My concern was, in the worst part of the battle, the general was missing in action,” said Maryland Governor Larry Hogan, one of the very few Republicans to speak truth in the Trump era.

In 30 days, Donald Trump will leave the presidency, with his efforts to mount a coup having failed. The encouraging news is that it never really had a chance of succeeding. Our institutions, especially the courts, will have passed a stress test, not the most difficult ever but difficult enough, and unlike any in our history. Some local officials exhibited profiles in courage, doing the right thing in the face of threats and pressure from their party. And a preponderance of the American public, having lived through the past four years, deserve credit for canceling this presidential freak show rather than renewing it. The “exhausted majority” wasn’t too exhausted to get out and vote, even in a pandemic.

But the Trump presidency will leave gaping wounds nearly everywhere, and ruination in some places. Truth as a concept has been battered from the highest office in the land on an almost hourly basis. The Republican Party has been radicalized, with countless Republican lawmakers and other prominent figures within the party having revealed themselves to be moral cowards, even, and in some ways especially, after Trump was defeated. During the Trump presidency, they were so afraid of getting crosswise with him and his supporters that they failed the Solzhenitsyn test: “The simple act of an ordinary brave man is not to participate in lies, not to support false actions! His rule: Let that come into the world, let it even reign supreme—only not through me.

”During the past four years, the right-wing ecosystem became more and more rabid. Many prominent evangelical supporters of the president are either obsequious, like Franklin Graham, or delusional, like Eric Metaxas, and they now peddle their delusions as being written by God. QAnon and the Proud Boys, Newsmax and One America News, Alex Jones and Tucker Carlson—all have been emboldened.

These worrisome trends began before Trump ran for office, and they won’t disappear after he leaves the presidency. Those who hope for a quick snapback will be disappointed. Still, having Trump out of office has to help. He’s going to find out that there’s no comparable bully pulpit. And the media, if they are wise, will cut off his oxygen, which is attention. They had no choice but to cover Trump’s provocations when he was president; when he’s an ex-president, that will change.

For the foreseeable future, journalists will rightly focus on the pandemic. But once that is contained and defeated, it will be time to go back to focusing more attention on things like the Paris Accords and the carbon tax; the earned-income tax credit and infrastructure; entitlement reform and monetary policy; charter schools and campus speech codes; legal immigration, asylum, assimilation, and social mobility. There is also an opportunity, with Trump a former president, for the Republican Party to once again become the home of sane conservatism. Whether that happens or not is an open question. But it’s something many of us are willing to work for, and that even progressives should hope for.Beyond that, and more fundamental than that, we have to remind ourselves that we are not powerless to shape the future; that much of what has been broken can be repaired; that though we are many, we can be one; and that fatalism and cynicism are unwarranted and corrosive.

There’s a lovely line in William Wordsworth’s poem “The Prelude”: “What we have loved, Others will love, and we will teach them how.

”There are still things worthy of our love. Honor, decency, courage, beauty, and truth. Tenderness, human empathy, and a sense of duty. A good society. And a commitment to human dignity. We need to teach others—in our individual relationships, in our classrooms and communities, in our book clubs and Bible studies, and in innumerable other settings—why those things are worthy of their attention, their loyalty, their love. One person doing it won’t make much of a difference; a lot of people doing it will create a culture.

Maybe we understand better than we did five years ago why these things are essential to our lives, and why when we neglect them or elect leaders who ridicule and subvert them, life becomes nasty, brutish, and generally unpleasant.

Just after noon on January 20, a new and necessary chapter will begin in the American story. Joe Biden will certainly play a role in shaping how that story turns out—but so will you and I. Ours is a good and estimable republic, if we can keep it.

PETER WEHNER is a contributing writer at The Atlantic and a senior fellow at the Ethics and Public Policy Center. He writes widely on political, cultural, religious, and national-security issues, and he is the author of The Death of Politics: How to Heal Our Frayed Republic After Trump.

[misterghostfrog]

So I was reading someones post about what if Jon went back in time to save everyone, and he managed it. He kept Martin away from Prentiss, he Kept Sasha alive, Tim never even know the unknowing existed and he never had Jons paranioa to ruin him. But They never knew, there was never those moments of bonding between the terror. Martin never had that moment when he realized Jon wasn’t just his shitty boss. And sure the assistants were close, but there was no room for Jon. And it gave me thoughts.

Under the cut bc I started to Ramble and it got Long, warning; its Big Sad Hours down there. No happy endings here.

Jon solves all these problems before they start, he fixes it without anyone ever knowing. The assistants are blissfully unaware, maybe he stops sending them on ‘real’ statement followup. The archives are a normal, safe job for all of them. Sometimes it gets too much, pretending he doesn’t know them. So he’ll record, mostly for himself. Sometimes for them, though he’ll never share. He sticks them all in Gertrude's old storage locker, where he knows they’ll never be found.

And then something goes wrong. He knows the unknowing can’t work, of course it can’t. But Nikola doesn’t, none of the avatars know. And Nikola still wants her skin. She still wants his skin, actually. And she’s not afraid to play dirty to get it, she’s hands-on like that. Because why stop at the archivist when he’s got so many lovely ignorant assistants?

So he fixes the problem before she can make good on her threats, she can’t be killed that easily. He knows. But she died during the unknowing, and there are some pretty simple steps to follow to replicate that result. He knows the easiest way to make sure it works is also a death sentence for him. But that’s a simple choice to make. Alright no, it’s not. He’s terrified of death, of dying. He doesn’t want to die, but he can lie to himself. He can delude and say maybe he’ll get another chance. And just in case, he makes sure the assistants know they can quit now.

Tim, Sasha, and Martin don’t know what to make of the news that their boss died mysteriously in an explosion. They know even less what to make of the notes he left them.

Clearly the ramblings of a very unstable man. They all knew Jon was a bit off but this... Well, they all know there’s something weird about the job. But the apocalypse? Really? 

Sasha believes some of it, she’s worked in artifact storage. She’s seen what this stuff can do. But, well. Jon’s never come off as the most stable person, and with no proper proof to back up any of this there’s no reason for them to follow suit. After all she’s known lots of people to quit the institute, she even knows for a fact that Eric Delano did it when she was rooting through employee records for perfectly rational legal reasons.

Then Martin gets called up to Elias’s office, and gets the news he’s the new head archivist.

He tries to turn it down, but he’s offered a pay-raise and a promise that he can step down anytime if he doesn’t feel suited to the position. Elias just sees so much potential in him.

Martin tries to feel flattered and not thoroughly terrified by the way Elias says potential. He takes the promotion, after all, he can always step down if it’s too much.

He offers as much when he finds out Sasha probably should have been given the position, but she turns him down. It’s not his fault their boss is a sexist old bastard, and at this rate he’d probably just turn around and give it to Tim.

Things are normal for a few months. Until slowly a strange noise starts to be heard around the archives, a weird sort-of squishing sound with no source. Along with a metallic scent of meat. 

An infestation, of course. They’re getting the problem worked on, or so Elias says. But aside from the occasional exterminator coming in to ‘take a look’ nothing ever seems to change. Weird statements start showing up on Martins desk, surrounding meat and twisted up things, eaten alive and wrong. Suddenly he understands how Jon went off his rocker so easily.

It’s hard to believe all this supernatural stuff as it’s suddenly getting crammed down his throat, after so long of the archives being normal in almost every sense of the word it’s like missing a step on the staircase. The more awful statements he finds- that Tim and Sasha confirm -the more he realizes how much his boss was hiding from them.

He wants to quit, he thinks about it, he tries to think about it. But he just, can’t.

It’s another or two month before it happens. Meat and bone and gristle erupt from the floor, taking on horrible mangled shapes of almost-humans reaching out with hands full of teeth and hungry.

They all survive, though Tim gets eaten up a bit more than the rest of them. And they’ll all have nightmares for the rest of their lives. They’re alive.

And they find Gertrude’s body, though none of them know how to feel about it. They’ve realized by now there’s something to Jon’s nonsensical ramblings. And they’re long past regretting not quitting before this all happened.

There’s a section of document storage that got uncovered during the cleaning,an old cot that was shoved behind some of the shelves, and a box that had a few sets of clothes, an old teacup, and a key. The cleaners say they burned the clothes, but the cup and the Key are given to Martin for him to keep to return to whoever left their things in the archive.

Neither of those items belong to Tim or Sasha, so they all assume they belonged to Jon.

They start following Jons footsteps, they find out he was a suspect in an arson case surrounding Carlos Vittery’s old apartment. Nobody was there except one unidentified body. He was arrested for trespassing on a dock, though no charges were filed. There was an incident that ended in the near arrest of one Jude Perry, though no charges were filed and she soon fell off the grid. And then he exploded using C4 he had no way of getting, Nothing concrete, no proper genuine evidence except a series of weird encounters their dead boss had.

Martin Decides to try and hunt down Jude Perry, it takes some time. He has a very nice cup of tea with one Micheal Crew. Who points him in a general direction and is just a bit weird about tall buildings.

Martin finds Jude, and asks her about Jon. She laughs at him, of course. But she tells him anyway. Jon was trying to have her arrested- no, not arrested. Killed. Officer Tonner would have seen to that, he knew one of the Hunt could do her in, well. At least of Officer Tonner’s sort anyway. Jude resisted, naturally. He escaped her clutches only barely, by running. Like a coward. And she escaped the policewoman by playing innocent. She’s still on her tail though, damn dog. It’ll be a long time before she’d rid of her, but she knows better than to run. Oh, he doesn’t know what any of that means, does he? Oh he really doesn’t, how sweet. Just a little baby archivist- she was going to kill him after this. But watching him stumble into his own ruin will be so much more fun.

She sends him on his way with a burn.

Martin is terrified, he genuinely tries to quit. Almost manages it before his computer shuts off. The others try too, and then they all have a lovely freak-out together.

They decide to try and talk to Detective Tonner, which proves easy. She’s the partner of the one who’s been interviewing them. She comes to the institute, and they ask her about Jon. She tells them they believed he was responsible for killing Gertrude, seeing as he was next in line. Martin accidentally Compels her into a statement, and then into admitting she's mostly just saying he killed her because dead men don’t put up fights.

She threatens him right then and there, though Basira comes in and intervenes before anything happens. He files a dispute with the station, and avoids the police after that.

Basira brings him some of the tapes, she says it’s an apology. He’s pretty sure she’s just trying to get him to drop the dispute in the weirdest way possible. He does learn some about Gertrude though, and through her what he’s dealing with. And something about an ‘unknowing’

A man named peter Lukas visits the institute, one of the doners. Elias says he wants to see how the archive runs, Lukas says a few choice words about it. And Martin tells him in the most polite of terms to shove off. Lukas threatens him, and very briefly makes him forget everyone he’s ever loved. And then tells him he got off lucky, and that Elias should have picked a better archivist. You can hardly trust someone so childish to run something as important as this now can you.

Daisy visits him in his home, and threatens him in much more physical terms now. She tells him if he tries to do what he did to her again he’ll get more than a scar.

After that it’s a bit unclear how he gets marked by the next two (Curruption, Stranger.) but he does.

There’s a delivery, a few weeks after the stranger mark. It’s not supernatural in any sense, just a young woman dropping off a small box in the archivists office. She says her name is Georgie, and no, she doesn’t know what’s in the box. She just had an old friend tell her to deliver it if he didn’t check in after a bit. Then she found out he died on the news, and then she hadn’t wanted to deliver them- clearly whatever was in the box was going to get someone killed. And she wasn’t scared of it, she wasn’t one for fear, but the thought of putting anyone in danger made her skin crawl. But she didn’t want it in her house, and she refused to be haunted be this box forever. And there was no reason to defy the poor guys apparent final wishes- wait, why was she saying all this again?

In the box was tapes, a dozen or so of them. All addressed to ‘the next head archivist’

It’s Jon’s voice, on the tapes. Talking to who he apparently assumes to be an entire stranger, explaining the fears. And how Smirkes 14 wasn’t wrong, but wasn’t right either. It tells the next archivist to avoid eyes, paintings, doodles, abstract representations, and to keep playing dumb. There’s a lot out there, and the more you know the worse it gets. There’s no fighting, don’t struggle the nets already around you. There’s a way out, but you’re not going to like it.

It gives an odd image of Jon, the man who awkwardly tried to make small-talk int he break room, only to shuffle away after it fell flat. Carrying this world-ending secret on his shoulders. Stiff, awkward Jon. Grim, sad Jon. not so far apart but still so far outside of what Martin had known about him.

What had Martin known about him?

Tim decides to quit, Sasha stays. Elias hires Melanie. Who turns out to be another connection to Jon.

Melanie says he was kind of a prick, he belived her about her Sarah incident, but refused to give her library access. Probably because he was sexist, or maybe just a dickhead. She’d been trying to learn more about her encounter for ages. And this was finally her chance. They try to explain the way out but she won’t listen.

Martin starts following Gertrudes tapes, things about the unknowing have been popping up on his desk lately, and it sounds like Jon was right about an apocalypse. He goes to america, gets a bit kidnapped, and meets Gerry. He offers to help, and then asks about the unknowing. Gerry points him towards the storage locker. And when he gets back He and Sasha and Melanie check it out.

It’s mostly empty, apparently somewhat recently cleared out. Though in the corner there’s a large box of Tapes. There has to be dozens of them, and when they pres play it’s Jon. Talking to them. Except it’s not them, it’s another version of them, and something this version.

And there’s another Jon to add to the mystery of a man he was. The jon on these tapes isn’t stiffly awkward or forcedly professional. He’s open, sad. He cries, he laughs at memories they don’t have. He apologizes, a lot. Too much really. He talks about time travel, about forgetting faces and losing friends.

“Sometimes I-I think- I can’t help but be a bit... upset. At how unfair it all is. You’re all happy and laughing and together and i’m- 

i’m alone. 

I suppose it must be some sort of- cosmic Karma, I doomed the world so in this new one bright an new I pay my penance in isolation.

Or maybe it’s the other way around. I doom the world- suffer its horrors, and get a little bit of time to taste what humanity would be like.

Or maybe i’m just not that likable without an apocalypse.

Probably says a lot about me either way.

Is it bad that I- I sometimes consider letting things play their course? W-without any of you dying of course I just... I suppose it is bad, to want to end the world because you’re lonely. Just because i’m a bit sad doesn’t mean the planet should suffer, no... maybe i’ll try and reconnect with Georgie, it’s been... well. No. Perhaps best not.”

Sasha says that if she knew she would have at least brought him out for drinks or something. 

But they did sort-of know didn’t they? Not about the apocalypse, but about the loneliness. After all, nobody chats so awkwardly in the break room because they have a thriving social life.

“I’m going to kill Nikola tonight- i’m not going to die. I’m not. I didn’t die last time, a-and there’s no reason for that to change. T-there isn’t. I’m going to try and be a safe distance from the blast this time, too. But... Well, it’s not like I have anyone to miss me if I do go.

I suppose... Martin, if you’re listening to this- I... I miss you. You always did say I should be more open with my feelings, and it’s weird. To miss someone who’s right there. T-to look at a face and see a friend and a stranger. To love someone you’ve known for years who doesn’t even really know who you are.

It’s all very stranger, ironic really. Considering what i’m about to do.

I love you, and I miss you. I know you’re not listening, even if I did die you’ve probably long since quit. I hope you’re happy, whatever you’re doing. Happy and safe. All of you. 

And maybe you are listening, maybe... maybe we do become friends, maybe you actually choose to talk to me someday. Maybe I tell you about all of this and... And you don’t think i’m mad. Maybe you let me take you out to dinner and we’d be together again. We’d never be like before- not that that’s a bad thing what with the eldritch horrors. There’d be bits missing, memories we don’t share- but, it would still be you... It’s always been you, I think. And maybe I've decided to give this to you as some sort of silly romantic gesture.

A-and in that case. I love you, Martin Blackwood. More than you’ll ever know.

[HE SIGHS]

When I come back, i’m recording over this.”

[CLICK]

But he didn’t come back. He died that night. He died loving Martin, who never even really knew him beyond passing awkward conversation. Martin doesn’t know how to feel about it, besides guilty that is.

The tapes point them towards Georgie Barker, the woman who delivered the other set to the archives.

Georgie doesn’t really want anything to do with them, she knows whatever they’re stewing in got Jon killed. But she tells them about her encounter with The End, though she’s tetchy afterwards. Martins finally starting to understand this whole compelling business and is feeling pretty sorry about it. He redirects, he starts to ask about Jon. Who he was, really. What she knew he was like.

They talk, Martins curiosity is part Eye and part knowing that someone loved him, really, really loved him. And feeling like he missed out, like he skipped a train he hadn’t known was there. And wanting to know what kind of person would- could love him the way Jon did. And why that kind of person could end the world.

They talk, Georgie explains why they broke up (clashing ideals, he didn’t believe in the supernatural and her trauma was so inherently tied to it. He was a sleep-clinger and she kicked when she dreamed) And why it took so long for them to break up (Jon was funny once you learned to get his jokes, the Admiral loved him, he had a weird way of caring that was really sweet) they talk about things, Georgie lets him hang out with her as long as he promises to keep the supernatural out of their conversations. And how is Melanie doing by the way?

Sasha has a hard time splitting her time in the archive and helping Tim. He can manage himself of course but it’s hard knowing he’s sitting in her flat alone, he’s getting back into publishing though. Sleeping easier now he knows that not only is he free of the eye, but Jon very much killed the thing that killed Danny. He only wishes he could have been the one to pull the trigger. Sasha is getting more involved though, the eye has it’s own grip on her.

They finally confront Elias. They know it won’t do any good, Jons tapes explained what he was, who he was. But they’re frustrated. Low on options. Jon never really explained what the apocalypse was- if Martins learned anything from the other tapes it’s probably because he forgot, thought he did somewhere and didn’t.

Elias isn’t entirely surprised that they’ve figured it out, he knew something was going on. Though he wasn’t quite sure what. He claims he knows what oncoming apocalypse Jon was talking about, and that he was likely underestimating the amount.

He sends them to Ny-Ålesund. And Martin views the black sun. Gets briefly taken hostage by Manuela. And gets “saved” by a man who pops out of a door to stab her.

He says his name is Micheal, and he’s not there to help. He does his whole distortion bit, confuses them. Stabs Martin when he tries to take his statement. Says he was going to kill him, but what happens next might be much better than death. And leaves after stating that he’s very excited to watch how the rest of this plays out.

They go back to the institute, and Elias says he must have been wrong. Oopsie. Anyway the web is planning a ritual you should go check out the spooky house from all these statements.

They meet Annabelle in person, Martin gets marked by the web.

This continues on for the end the slaughter and the buried. They finally confront Elias again about these wild goose chases, he claims innocence but he’s done it enough times they don’t believe him. They stop trusting Elias. Not that they ever really did, but they stop listening to him.

Melanie isn’t as angry as she was. Though she is still angry. She didn’t go to india so no ghost bullet, but she’s still trapped. Though she knows how to quit, it’s been a scary idea. But the longer she stays the more she realizes how low she is on options. So she quits.

Martin is angry, he’s exhausted, he’s confused. Nothing makes sense. And another one of Elias’s goddamn doners is visiting. A weird old man who, when he shakes his hand, makes him feel like he just dropped off a rollercoaster at a million miles into empty nothingness. He laughs when Martins regained himself, and says that that tricks better than a buzzer every time.

He visits Georgie again, he’s thinking about quitting. But he can’t figure out what the apocalypse he’s supposed to stop is, because according to Jon it’s pretty bad. And he’s the one who can stop, or maybe start, it. But he doesn’t know what it is.

He talks to Georgie about Jon some more, it’s funny, to grieve a man you already knew. Except four years too late. There’s a sort-of helpless frustration to it, every time he talks about Jon he wishes he could be learning this first-hand. Not from someone who hadn’t spoken to him in years before this.

He also finds himself glued to the tapes, he can relate, in a way. To Jons loneliness. To have a person so, so close but so far away. He wishes he could meet the Jon on the tapes now. Then neither of them would have to be lonely. But Jon is dead. And Martin... Martin might love Jon. Jon, who died years ago. A dead man who apparently loved him enough to consider ending the world for the chance to have a real conversation with him.

He goes back to work, frustrated and so, so lost. A million questions that genuinely can’t be answered. There’s a fresh statement on his desk. It’s a statement of Jonah Magnus, regarding stopping the apocalypse.

Certainly a goddamn roundabout way of giving Martin information, but he’ll take it.

He reads the statement.

The world ends.

Sasha, Tim, Melanie, and Georgie all get their own domains. And wander free in the hills of suffering. Martin is alone, well and truly alone. He ended the world, because he was too stupid and sad to read a few extra paragraphs before starting the tape.

But Jon went back, didn’t he? He went back in time and stopped this once. Maybe Martin can too. Maybe he can stop the flesh from attacking, maybe he can stop Melanie from joining the institute. Maybe he can meet the real Jon.

He goes back, he does it. Nobody remembers but him. 

Nobody remembers but him. 

And things keep happening he can’t have predicted.

Worms, Sasha is gone, Gertrude. It’s all wrong. And Jon isn’t the Jon he knew, he doesn’t know Martin, he doesn’t even like Martin. Nobody is the person he knew before.

He is alone. And things keep happening he can’t have predicted, worms tables and paranoia. He starts recording. Trying to follow in Jon’s footsteps and leave information behind, easier to access this time of course. In his flat, and he’ll have the key sent to the archives if something goes wrong. He’ll record until Jon trusts him enough to believe him, Maybe he’ll even stop him before it’s too late and he’ll never need to find out what happened at all. Maybe he can't get close as he was to everyone, but he can keep them safe.

He doesn’t get to finish his recordings, he wasn’t careful enough. Jonah catches wind and half the tapes are destroyed when he dies in a mysterious housefire. But what’s left does get delivered to the archives.

And the cycle continues.

[according-to-the-laura]

StackedNatural Day 182: 6x21, 6x22, 9x23, 10x23

StackedNatural Masterpost: [x]

May 20, 2022

6x21: Let It Bleed

Written by: Sera Gamble

Directed by: John F. Showalter

Original air date: May 20, 2011

Plot Synopsis:

Dean's worst nightmare comes true when a demon kidnaps Ben and Lisa in order to get to him. The brothers are forced to join forces with an unlikely ally to free them.

Features:

H.P. Lovecraft, Crowley kidnapping Ben and Lisa, torturing a bunch of demons to death, Balthazar confronting Cas, Bobby’s monster ex-girlfriend, Lisa getting possessed, Dean taking John’s parenting style, wiping Lisa and Ben’s memories.

My Thoughts:

This is an episode made for the Deangirls and I’m here for it. All I need is for my favourite guy to get absolutely brutally emotionally wrecked for 40 minutes and I’m happy. 

I didn’t realize how early it was in the show that all the writers collectively agreed that it was fine to Dean to torture a bunch of demons even though there’s a whole damn episode on how it’ll cause irreparable damage to his psyche and his soul. So that part is no good for me. However, the star-crossed-lovers aspects of them fighting on different sides but Cas still appearing in time to save his life and heal Lisa is extremely delicious. Both of them care about each other so much, but not enough to abandon their own side. That’s the stuff of tragedy. 

I would also like to point out a delightful parallel in Cas saying “you’re just a man. I’m an angel,” to Dean in TMWWBK and Ellie telling Bobby “You’re just a man” after they’d been talking about their explicitly romantic relationship. 

I love the scene where Dean goes to say goodbye to Ben and Lisa. It’s absolutely gorgeous writing to have Dean ostensibly apologizing about losing control and hitting them in a car accident after he’s just slapped Ben and forced him into a hunter role that he wasn’t prepared for, and after he metaphorically crashed into their lives and brought monsters and demons with him. 

Notable Lines:

“Dean, I do everything that you ask. I always come when you call, and I am your friend. Still, despite your lack of faith in me, and now your threats, I just saved you, yet again. Has anyone but your closest kin ever done more for you?”

“Thank you. I wish this changed anything.” “I know. So do I.”

“I'm Dean. I'm the guy who hit you. I just, I lost control for a minute, and I just wanted to say that I'm sorry.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 9.1

IMdB Rating: 8.6

6x22: The Man Who Knew Too Much

Written by: Eric Kripke

Directed by: Robert Singer

Original air date: May 20, 2011

Plot Synopsis:

The wall comes down in Sam's head and all hell breaks loose. Dean and Bobby are, for once, at a total loss on how to help him and are forced to stand by and do nothing while Sam breaks. The battle for heaven comes to a head.

Features:

Sam’s amnesia, Cas breaking Sam’s wall, Sam running around through his own memories, confronting the soulless version of yourself, Cas renegotiating the terms of the deal, the part of Sam that remembers Hell, killing Balthazar, demons flipping the Impala, Crowley leaving Cas for Raphael, Cas atomizing Raphael, Sam stabbing Cas in the back, 

My Thoughts:

I really like the format of the first part of this episode. It does feel really epic, really interesting, and definitively finale-worthy. I love seeing Sam have to make the conscious decision to reintegrate the parts of himself that he’s scared of. Also, El Sol in the background of the bar where he meets Robin - he’s trapped in a false reality. The first 10 minutes or so really reminded me of Born Under a Bad Sign, when Sam was possessed by Meg and she faked amnesia after a killing spree. 

It’s a little wild how attached I was to Balthazar when I first got in to Supernatural, how sad I was when he died, versus how often I remember him as a character these days. I guess that’s the price of a show running for 15 years. Regardless, his death was very great. I love it lighting up the whole building. 

In retrospect, I think I really like season 6? Which is not something I would have considered possible when starting this project. Even though I do think it struggles with the narrative compared to seasons 4 and 5, it’s wildly well-maintained compared to seasons 9 and 10, and the coming together of the civil war and the purgatory plotlines is well done. 

Robert Singer’s terrible zooms did ruin that last beat of the episode, though. 

Notable Lines:

“Now, what's the matter, Raphael? Somebody clip your wings?”

“Listen, I know there's a lot of bad water under the bridge, but we were family once. I'd have died for you. I almost did a few times. So if that means anything to you... Please. I've lost Lisa, I've lost Ben, and now I've lost Sam. Don't make me lose you too.”

“'m not an angel anymore. I'm your new God. A better one. So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord. Or I shall destroy you.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 9.1

IMdB Rating: 9.0

9x23: Do You Believe in Miracles?

Written by: Jeremy Carver

Directed by: Thomas J. Wright

Original air date: May 20, 2014

Plot Synopsis:

The influence of the mark on Dean reaches new heights, as Metatron begins to reveal himself to humanity.

Features:

Metatron going viral, Crowley desperately trying to seduce Dean, heaven’s playground, the love of the masses, Gadreel’s suicide, broadcasting your villain monologue, howling at the moon.

My Thoughts:

As an episode I guess this one is relatively fine? The only parts that I really get excited about are Cas draping himself in the flag of Heaven and the very last scene. 

Gadreel sacrificing himself to save Cas and Heaven is objectively the perfect way for his character progression to end, but unfortunately the writing of his character and the actor playing him fail to make me care about him so it didn’t have the impact that it wanted to have. 

I wish the battle where Dean was killed by Metatron was a bit more epic - maybe it doesn’t hit as hard when I’m also taking notes on my laptop while watching it. At the very least, Dean looks good covered in blood and in pinky-red lighting, so that’s a win. 

The last scene is great for Drowley lovers, although the silhouette of him standing in the door with his long coat does initially make it ambiguous whether it’s Cas or Crowley watching over his dead body. I do remember absolutely losing my mind at the black eyes when this episode first aired - it’s a shame they do so little with Demon Dean in season 10, because in retrospect it just doesn’t excite me the way that it should. 

Notable Lines:

You never get tired of the rat race? Never get the urge to just...bugger off and howl at the moon? Never ask yourself, ‘is this it? Is this all there is?’”

“To save Dean Winchester. That was your goal, right? I mean, you draped yourself in the flag of heaven, but ultimately, it was all about saving one human, right?”

“Open your eyes, Dean. See what I see. Feel what I feel. And let's go take a howl at that moon.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 6.2

IMdB Rating: 9.3

10x23: Brother's Keeper

Written by: Jeremy Carver

Directed by: Phil Sgriccia

Original air date: May 20, 2015

Plot Synopsis:

Dean comes to a stunning decision that will alter his life -- as well as Sam's; Rowena and Crowley face off, putting Castiel in the middle.

Features:

The Fan Fiction version of Carry on Wayward Son, less-than-functional alcoholism, wildly unnecessary misogyny, Dean seeing Cas in a motel bathroom mirror, summoning Death, the chain of the Mark of Cain, Oskar the immortal Polish boy, killing Death, rabid Cas, removing the Mark and releasing the Darkness.

My Thoughts:

This is the episode that made me so annoyed I gave up on Supernatural (I thought) forever in 2015!

At the time the thing that annoyed me the most was killing Death, a character that I loved, in service of the same emotional plot they’d used over and over at that point. @meg3point0 and I actually started yelling and swearing at the TV when we watched it when it first aired. 

I do like a few scenes quite a lot - particularly the scene where Dean destroys the motel room after seeing Cas and Rudy in the mirror as the completely immoral and unforgivable things he’d done under the influence of the Mark. I thought Crowley’s confrontation with Rowena and monologue about how she was incapable of loving him was quite good, Mark Sheppard is great at that sort of scene. 

There are two major pacing issues in this episode, and that’s with Oskar and the darkness. We met Oskar in one previous episode very briefly and with no connection to Rowena, so there’s no inherent emotion in her sacrifice of him for her own freedom. Ruthie acts the scene magnificently, of course, but in terms of the writing his death just doesn’t matter to me. The Darkness has the same problem; its very first mention is in this episode moments before it becomes the new Big Bad. Generally I like Carver, but that’s a pretty big error as showrunner; you’d think he would have learned from Sera Gamble’s mistakes with the leviathans’ introduction. It needed to be alluded to earlier to be a compelling villain - maybe if it had been, I would have watched season 11 long enough to make it to Baby and been hooked back in to the show permanently. 

Also, there’s a lot of really unnecessary misogyny that I didn’t care for. I get that they’re trying to show the effect of the Mark on Dean, but it would have been just as effective as showing him with a general contempt for humanity as a whole without calling a dead teenager a whore. Plus so much of what made the Mark interesting is how he convinced himself he was doing the right thing and what made him angry enough for it to take over so often being people he cared about getting hurt. When the scene with the dead girl started and he clenched his fist I thought he was pissed she’d been killed, but instead he was just gross. 

And then, after having watched all of season 11 and Amara’s obsession with Dean, Dean wasn’t even the one who released her - Sam and Cas and Rowena were. There could have been some great parallels to Ruby if she’d been obsessed with Sam, and I think we all would have one if she’d been into Rowena. 

Notable Lines:

“Everyone loves something.”

“Before there was light, before there was God and the archangels, there wasn't nothing. There was the Darkness.”

“All my long life, I wondered what I'd done to deserve a mother who refused to show love. [...] Then one day, epiphany struck. My mother was incapable of loving anything. For the first time in hundreds of years, I felt free. And then you showed up in my dungeon, we communed, and I began to realize you weren't incapable of love. You're incapable of loving me.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 5.6

IMdB Rating: 9.1

In Conclusion: One episode remains…..

<< Previous Day  |  Next Day >>

[whoacanada]

I can hardly choose, but I'm a sucker for identity porn and/or supernatural shenanigans (watch this turn out to be a gay Jack lookalike being media trash in Vegas.) Doppelgänger AU?

Actually, this is the overarching file for my habs!jack au! if you’ve been following me for a million years, this started as a halloween prompt where Jack meets a ‘perfect’ version of himself and that double tries to kill him and take his place. Fun right? That evolved into the much more stable habs!jack au — but the homicidal drama of the original lives on.

There’s seriously about 70k of various versions of this au floating around on my computer. Once I throttled back the murder and started thinking about the practical applications of a Jack that ended up playing for the Habs and an Eric that kept skating, things just kind of steamrolled. Unfortunately this led away from my main goal of writing a story where Jack confronts a version of himself that has ‘succeeded’ and has to deal with the emotional fallout, and turned more into a deep character study of what would have happened to Jack Zimmermann if he’d never truly gotten the support he needed to overcome his vices.

Of course, now the beast of the project is editing because there are so many raw versions I’ve tweaked a little here and there. Supportive Bob vs. Distant Father. Substance Abuse vs. Alcoholism. A dozen different takes on how Jack could crater a secret relationship with Bitty (usually sacrificing Bitty’s public image to save Jack’s). 

It’s definitely my favorite project and it’s almost too big, now to be stitched into a Frankenstein’s monster of a fic, but I’m trying. In the interim, here’s version one from all the way back in 2017:

Bitty looks up and finds Zimms watching him intently, eyes pale as ice chips, gaze sharp and calculating. “You’re beautiful,” he says coldly. “You’re beautiful, he’s out, and you’re his.”

A shiver runs up Bitty’s spine, because the other man’s fingers are twitching and ‘beautiful’ doesn’t sound like a compliment; not to this Jack. However, his tone is as foreign as it is familiar, reminding Bitty of his freshman year and a Jack Zimmermann who couldn’t seem to process his emotions.

"I need your help to understand because I think you’re why I'm here."

“I am?” Bitty swallows, startling when he realizes he’s backed himself against the counter. In a heartbeat there are hands on his neck, a pair of recognizable lips hot against the curve of his cheek.

“I could have given him everything,” Zimms whispers, softly enough that the stubble catching on Bitty’s cheek feels like a threat, “You don’t even know, do you? You’d never have to work a day in your life.”

“I have everything I want,” Bitty presses a firm hand to Zimms’ chest though the action does nothing to dislodge the larger man. “I don’t need his money, or yours. I’m happy.”

This isn’t the answer Zimmermann wants.

“No, see, you think you’re happy, because you don’t know anything else,” Bitty flinches when Zimms rests his cheek against the top of his head. “You don't even know what you could be." 

“That’s enough,” Bitty gets his palm against Zimms’ ribcage, the sensitive spot left over from an injury in Juniors, and shoves, hard. Zimms stumbles back with a breathless curse, and refocuses on Bitty with a wounded expression.

“Please,” he begs. “I want to know what I’m missing, what I did wrong — why does he get to have you and I don't?”

The version of Jack Zimmermann with three Stanley Cups and a substance abuse problem currently cornering Bitty in his own damn kitchen does not deserve affection. Not if this is what it does to him.

Bitty's rearing up for a fight when a thought stops him cold: "Wait, do you know me?"

Of course this is the moment Bitty's true Jack steps in from off the balcony with an excited flourish. 

"Papa had a few ideas on how to resolve this and he's heading to the airport now. He should be here in a few hours."

Beside Bitty, Zimms stiffens.

“You called Bob?”

.

Bob moves in for a hug, or a handshake, or something, and Zimms leans away from the touch, sliding back a few inches. Bob's smile falters and Zimms seems to immediately realize what he's done and laughs it off. 

"Sorry, sorry, just, ah, worried about making this worse," Zimmermann stumbles, clapping his hands together to wring his wrists.

"Of course, of course," Bob says cautiously, "better safe than sorry, eh?"

Bitty leans into Jack's side and whispers, "What just happened?"

“I don’t know.”

.

Jack frowns, his expression too harsh for Bitty’s liking, and he says something hurried, accusatory, in a language Bitty still hasn’t quite learned to speak. He catches Bob’s name, the Canadiens, and possibly something about leadership? No, wait, it’s  ‘management’— Then Jack scrubs a hand through his hair and paces like he wants to be angry but can’t find the energy. Bob isn’t doing much of anything but he’s pale and there’s an unfamiliar furrow between his eyebrows.

Jack notices Bitty staring and explains, carefully, in English, “The Canadiens asked my father to be the GM in 2009 — he turned it down when I dropped out of the draft.”

It takes a moment for Bitty to understand the issue at hand, but when he gets it, the realization comes with an unfriendly twist of concern in his gut. 

“Zimms plays for Montreal — isn’t that a conflict of interest?”

“That’s not the point,” Jack stalls out, trying to find the right words and failing long enough that Bob takes the reigns. 

“It took a lot to make me change my priorities when it came to my legacy, my family,” his father’s voice is thick with regret. “If those events didn’t happen, the other, ah, me, is still chasing glory.”

Jack leans in, nudging his father with a sympathetic shoulder, and Bob knocks him back with a tight, wavering smile, clearly unable to continue. There’s a lot of history here, more than Jack ever thought he’d need to share because most of it had been buried and forgotten. Or so they’d thought.

It’s Jack’s turn to pick up the thread of the conversation, at least while his father pulls himself together. “If Zimms is playing for the Habs —” he starts, drawing Bitty’s attention away from the hockey legend tying himself in knots, “— and his father is the GM, he’s not getting the support he needs. It’s not possible.”

[bbangsoonie]

tangerine guesthouse

member: haknyeon genre: fluff word count: 2,238 synopsis: on a healing trip to jeju island, you meet a guesthouse owner who goes the extra step to make sure you enjoy your stay.

a/n: happy birthday to our jeju boy, juhaknyeon ! 🍊

After impulsively quitting your job, you packed a suitcase and booked a last minute flight to Jeju Island. You wanted to escape but unfortunately didn’t have enough money for an international flight. So you found yourself flying over on a domestic plane.

Everything about this journey was spontaneous. The money you saved up on the side from your tedious 9-5 job was all spent on this healing trip. With nothing but a camera in your hands, you were determined to finally rest and have fun for once. You hadn’t had the luxury to do so in years.

Before you left Incheon Airport, you reserved a room at a random bed and breakfast you found online. “Tangerine Guesthouse”. It had a cute name.

The taxi dropped you off in front of the place and you cautiously walked in with your bag rolling behind you. You peaked inside the building, unsure if you were supposed to just enter.

“Hello!” a chirpy voice greeted you. Startled, you jumped as you turned around to face the person who nearly gave you a heart attack. Seeing him only made your heart beat faster. He was cute. Extremely cute.

“Are you here to rent a room?” he asked.

“Y-Yes, I made a reservation a couple of hours ago,” you pulled out your phone to show him the details.

“Ah, Y/n! Yes, welcome,” he beamed. “My name is Juhaknyeon but please call me Haknyeon.”

You reached out to shake his hand and were surprised to feel how soft they were.

“Allow me to show you to your room,” he said before guiding you upstairs.

The room was fairly small but cozy. It had everything you needed and made a cute space for photos. After Haknyeon left, you began to unpack.

You heard a knock on the door and mindlessly told your guest to come in. You looked up when they entered, surprised to see another male.

“Hello! I’m Sunwoo and I’m staying in the room next to yours,” he introduced himself. “I just wanted to stop by to say hi and get friendly.”

“Nice to meet you, Sunwoo. I’m Y/n,” you smiled.

“The other guests and I are gathering this evening to just chat over beer. Would you like to join us as well? We’d love to have you,” he said.

On a normal occasion, the introvert in you would have declined. However, you were on a healing trip and resolute about trying new things. So you happily accepted the invitation and promised to meet them in the yard at 7.

You had about four hours until then and decided to kill time by exploring the neighborhood. You enjoyed the change in scenery and the fresh air that Seoul could not offer.

You found yourself alone at a nearby beach and embraced the solitude. There were no managers yelling at you about deadlines or coworkers passive aggressively criticizing your work here. It was just you and the roaring waves. Grabbing your camera, you took a few shots of the salty sea. Perhaps you would return to your hobby and pursue photography.

You allowed yourself to consider it as an option as you headed back to the streets to look for a restaurant. You settled for the closest one and were satisfied with your choice when you took a bite of their seafood ramen.

You roamed around a bit more after the meal. You came across a souvenir shop and ended up spending a lot of time—and money—there. You certainly had a thing for cliche souvenirs. Keychains, magnets, mugs. You loved them all.

You came back to the lodging with a bag full of trinkets you knew you would keep instead of gifting. The retail therapy added a bounce in your walk as you climbed up the stairs. You organized them accordingly as you happily hummed.

You looked at the clock and saw that it was time to convene with the rest of the boarders. You threw on a cardigan before going back outside.

Haknyeon was by the grill flipping meat and Sunwoo was busy taking out the drinks from the fridge. You awkwardly stood around, not knowing where to go.

“Take a seat wherever you want,” Sunwoo called out.

Finding an empty spot, you sat down and looked around. The yard was decorated nicely to bring a nice ambiance.

“Hi, I’m Eric and this is Hyunjoon,” the guy next to you grinned.

You exchanged greetings with the two and introduced yourself. You had to admit it was nice to meet such amiable people.

The night went by with the five of you conversing over black pig samgyupsal and alcohol. Haknyeon was a big foodie, Sunwoo was a big tease, Eric was a big dork, and Hyunjoon was a big sports enthusiast. Hyunjoon came to Jeju to enjoy horseback riding and planned on dragging Sunwoo and Eric along.

“If you guys are down for some physical activity, I can destroy you in badminton,” Haknyeon suggested.

“Loser has to down a bottle of soju. Each,” Eric laughed evilly.

To make the teams fair, you were paired up with Haknyeon to play against the other three. He definitely proved his worth as the ace, easily winning 21-12. Sunwoo let out a scream, blaming Eric for his punishment suggestion. The latter tried to run away but was caught by Hyunjoon who handed him a bottle.

They all retreated to their rooms after fulfilling their penalty, leaving you and Haknyeon to clean up. The work was done relatively quickly and you made it back to your bed before midnight.

The next morning, you came out of your room clutching your Ryan doll that doubled as a pillow. You mumbled a “good morning” to Haknyeon who was preparing breakfast and chuckled at your appearance.

“Cute,” he commented on your tastes. You replied with a yawn, still not fully awake.

“The guys are probably gonna be hungover so I’m making some soup. I hope that’s okay with you,” he said.

He rolled up his sleeves before washing his hands. He then grabbed a knife and began cutting the vegetables. Your nose wrinkled at the sight of onions. You had forgotten to mention how picky you were. It was an embarrassing conversation to have as an adult. You had to explain how your childish tastebuds never matured while people let out an incredulous gasp. It was something you had to disclose every time you ate with someone new and it was honestly pretty tiring. People didn’t understand that you didn’t choose to be picky. Your tongue just refused the tastes of a lot of foods. It was more inconvenient for you than anyone else.

Nevertheless, you were excited to try the food made by the self proclaimed food connoisseur. You would just have to pick out the vegetables later.

The two of you decided to just eat together after the guys refused to wake up before noon. Haknyeon took a seat in front of you after he set the table and you thanked him.

To your relief, he didn’t seem so shocked by your childlike palate. He let the conversation end by saying something about respecting other people’s preferences.

Noticing your hair falling in front of your face, he got up to go look for something. He returned with a hair tie which he offered to you. It was just a courteous gesture but it still made you giddy regardless. The hair tie was probably just a spare left by previous guests but to you, it was a token. Something to remember him by.

“So, Y/n, what brings you to Jeju?” he questioned.

You’ve heard your name before many times in your life. Obviously. But hearing it from his voice felt different. The way your name rolled off his tongue made your heart skip a beat.

“Oh you know, just the typical “I wanted to get away from the city” trope,” you hummed.

“Classic,” he nodded.

After breakfast, Haknyeon volunteered to be your tour guide for the day. He showed you his favorite places in town and even drove further out to take you to the photo exhibition you wanted to see. You had a blast, taking a bunch of pictures to commemorate your trip.

When he asked why you used such a fancy camera and why you took photos of everything, you simply shrugged in response. Truthfully, you didn’t know why either.

For lunch, he brought you to a sashimi place where you bonded over a large platter of raw fish. Both the view and quality of the restaurant were amazing. And your company too, of course.

“Do your guests always get such personalized treatment?” you asked, raising a brow.

“Honestly? No,” he laughed. “I’m not that great of a host. Nor do I have the time and money to.”

“Then what’s all this? Today?”

“Hmm… I’m not quite sure.”

You left it at that and let him take you to an aquarium. Haknyeon had more fun watching you than looking at the animals. You were like a little kid in a candy store. Everything was fascinating to you.

The last time you visited an aquarium was for a field trip when you were in elementary school. It felt like you were going back to your childhood roots.

You made it back to the guesthouse in time for dinner. This time, you insisted on cooking. With the ingredients left in the fridge, you made kimchi fried rice. The smell lured the others down to join you two in the kitchen.

The rest of the night was rather uneventful, which you appreciated. You got to relish time just passing by. It was exactly what you came to Jeju for.

Back in your room, you connected your camera to your laptop to browse through the photos. Looking at them, you noticed that Haknyeon was in half of them.

“Maybe it was him I wanted to save in my memory,” you whispered under your breath.

Another week went by and you wished time would flow slower. Hyunjoon was the first to leave the guesthouse and it already felt a lot emptier without him. You hated goodbyes. You hated how all good things had to eventually come to an end.

The feeling made you cherish the remaining time you had left on the island. You spent your evenings with the guys and frequently chatted in the group chat with all five of you in it. You never expected to grow so fond of strangers you barely got to know. Haknyeon, in particular, had a special place in your heart.

He often took you out on what you liked to believe were dates. Under the guise of being your tour guide, he showed you the hidden parts of his hometown. Though he was slightly disappointed that your favorite thing from all the menus you’ve tried was the black sesame frappuccino from Starbucks.

“Really? Of all the things you’ve eaten and drank, you choose something from a chain store?” he had whined.

“Hey, they only have it here. I can’t get it anywhere else,” you defended.

He made it his mission to find you something local that would triumph over your love for the Starbucks drink. A close second was the makgeolli made and sold only in Jeju.

By the time Sunwoo and Eric left, you and Haknyeon had gotten extremely close. With him, it was so easy to open up and just be you. You practically lived in his room. You slept over after late night movies and cuddles.

Neither of you ever verbally defined your relationship. You were both somewhat afraid to ask what exactly you two were. Instead, you focused on each other.

“So you’re picking up photography again?” he asked with your head resting on his chest. The two of you were lazing around on the couch with a random show on for background noise.

“Possibly. It was always an interest of mine. I thought I’d get to have it as a side-job once I started working full time but I never got around to it. Trying to make a living was a lot harder than I thought it’d be,” you revealed.

“You definitely have the talent. I think you should take the opportunity and go for it,” he encouraged.

The idea lingered on your mind as the second week flew by. Your passion for photography had been pushed to the side as you struggled as a paycheck worker. You missed taking up odd gigs for extra cash in college.

On your last night at the guesthouse, you paused in the middle of dinner to stare at Haknyeon. The more time you spent with him, the more you didn’t want to leave. Changing your career path because of a guy was crazy. Moving to an island because of said guy that you only met two weeks ago was even crazier. But he inspired you to do what your heart desires. And that included being with him.

“What if I moved here to start freelancing? Publish that photography book I always dreamed of. Maybe set up my own studio one day,” you pondered aloud.

That proposition had many implications about the relationship between you two. He took a moment to carefully contemplate over it. Your heart pounded waiting for his response.

“If that’s what you truly want to do, I think that’d be nice,” he smiled, making your own face light up.

a/n: wow i was reminiscing my own time at jeju while writing this 🥺 and now, with this fic, i have officially written for all tbz members! :)

[trshpando]

Rewriting Twilight (2009) cause I’m bored

- I may or may not be looking into this as a modern thing bc fuck the 2000s lmfaoooo so let’s say... 2017? that works right ?

- Okay, starting off, can we pLEASE give Renee a better reason for ABANDONING HER TEENAGE DAUGHTER? literally just the while leaving to be on the road thing just, pisses me off so badly

- okay okay okay hold on if i have to go into that route to fit with the story🙄 can we at least do it so that renee and phil take bella to forks instead of just being like “yup here’s your plane ticket see ya whenever” like renee at least takes bella and helps her settle in, even if she and charlie aren’t on the best of terms they’ll get along for their daughter

- growing up, charlie was way more involved with bella. she would spent several weeks during summer with him in forks, and the occasional time in several other places given that charlie got the time off

- while in forks, bella and charlie would spend time with the blacks; billy, rebecca, rachel, and jacob. she and the twins were closer than she and jacob ever would be, but the four of them were always disappointed when bella had to return to arizona

- bella and renee were like a perfect lil mother-daughter duo up until bella realized how lonely her mother was and encouraged her to date. although she was the one to encourage her, there was an immediate shift in their relationship

- when bella moved to forks, she hadn’t seen charlie for years—having decided herself to just, stop visiting. the few days renee was spending in forks with her were very much, as the kids say, awkward as fuck

- the boys in the high school weren’t just, so attracted to her? like have you been a new kid in a school? you’re the interest for like a week or two and then everybody is like eh whatever

- she still met mike, jessica, and angela and whoever the other guy is, um his name isn’t on the wiki so pardon me and they are absolute best friends, minus mike who 100% has a crush on her from the moment he sees her

- ERIC HIS NAME IS ERIC

- jessica, angela and bella totally have girl nights and you cannot tell me otherwise i mean theyre 17 ofc theyre gonna have girl nights and hangouts all the time

- jessica and angela help bella settle into the school, angela actually asks for bellas help for tips for the newspaper from time to time

- CULLEN TIME BB

- bella and edward are intrigued with one another but after that one day in science (biology? idk science class let’s go) bella thought he was kind of a massive dick and didn’t want anything to do with him, especially after jessica mentioned that he was totally closed off from everyone except his family

- okay fr cullen time

- i 100% am keeping the stories of emmett rosalie esme and carlisle cause yes

- one thing i do want to change, my girl rosalie is poc<3 fuck that white cullen vampire bullshit

- jasper was nOT a confederate soldier, fUCK THAT he was drafted, upset about it, but he still tried his best to make his country proud—which maria took advantage of.

- alice is poc too<3 we love poc women in this home<3<3

- (im only saying poc the rest is up to you<3>)

- can we pUHLEASE have the cullens act like regular people? instead of “oh those foster siblings and their love lives, oh dr cullen adopt me pls” can it be like, yeah carlisle and esme are foster parents and the only ones they’ve really “adopted” are edward and alice. rosalie and jasper are twins, and they just kind of have permission to live with the cullens and then emmett comes from let’s say an abusive home and the cullens were like wow fuck that shit we give you shelter AND THATS LESS WEIRD THAN FOSTER SIBLING LOVE

- AND THEY DONT SPARKLE IN THE FUCKING SUN, PLEASE

- okay back to regular programming

- edward still saves bella from getting crushed, and bella tries to talk to him about it but after edward is rude once again bella just says fuck you and bounces off

- jessica angela and bella say fuck boys and decide to do a girls group to prom bc my girls are besties

- edward knows that bella is his mate but he is pushing her away bc of her being human and he’s hurting bc of it

- despite his protests, alice befriends bella on her own and becomes close to her, with bella even inviting alice to join her and the girls to girls night — alice 100% tries to invite rosalie, but she only goes when she has nothing to do

- victoria james and laurent are still 100% tracking the cullens

- jessica angela bella alice and rosalie all go dress shopping. rosalie goes for the dresses while alice goes to watch over bella for edward. bella still detaches from the group, and gets harassed by that group but ITS ROSALIE THAT SAVES HER bc fuck if she’s gonna let another woman go through what she went through

- it’s through alice and rosalie that bella realizes the truth about the cullens (with the help jacob and his lil group making comments about the cullens)

- alice invites bella over to the house a lot, mostly trying to get edward to get close to her but it mainly just became a thing of bella getting close to literally everyone but edward bc he’s a pussy and doesnt wanna be near her out of fear of hurting her

- it isn’t until the baseball game (which rosalie thoughtfully invited bella to) and james victoria and laurent attack that edward finally admits that he is attracted to bella but at this point she’s like yeah that’s cool but you’ve been nothing but rude to me so

- as much as it pains him, he settles on just being friends with her

- the same tricky james story is the same. he tricks her to the ballet studio and tries to kill her blah blah blah

- edward tries to suck the venom out of bella’s system and nearly kills her in the process; rosalie and carlisle practically have to drag edward off of her, with rosalie taking him out of the building while carlisle takes care of bella

- everything is happily ever after, bella is in the hospital but edward isn’t there. he can’t trust himself around bella anymore, nor does he want to be near her after having almost killed her, though she doesn’t blame him cause he was really just trying to save her life

- bella still goes to prom, but it’s as a group instead; her, jessica, angela, mike, eric, and tyler (the guy that almost killed her with his car lmao) all go as a group.

- the cullens be there too with edward watching over bella but the moment she tries to talk to him, edward bounces.

- victoria still watches over, a plan already set in motion to kill bella as revenge for the cullens killing james