#They’ve gone as far as to attack the chickens to try to get to the three ducks we have

[everygame]

Days Gone (PS4)

Developed/Published by: Bend Studio / Sony Interactive Entertainment Released: 26/4/2019 Completed: 05/05/2023 Completion: Beat it. Trophies / Achievements: 48%

Two in a row here for me getting burned by “it’s not as bad as people say.” I mean, honestly, what is it about that that attracts me? It’s not even successfully contrarian, because you’re really hedging your bets by waiting to be told something isn’t bad before you try and stick your flag in “it’s good actually” territory. Plus, what is it I’m really holding out for? Something that I can class as “not bad” or “quite good”? (And that’s quite good in the British sense.) I mean, is it really worth my time watching a movie like Renfield to think “it’s not as bad as people say” rather than filling in, say, a Kurosawa I haven’t seen?

But of course, you can’t eat Michelin star restaurants every night; sometimes you’re going to want a (impossible) whopper.

The problem with things like Days Gone is that it’s like eating a whopper that’s six miles long. And I know that the Whopper comes in a round bun, so if I wanted a bun that made sense giving it extra length I probably should have gone for the (vegan) chicken royale, but I could probably eat a six mile long vegan chicken royale because they’re brilliant. And they already put about six miles worth of mayo on them.

To dig my way out of that riff… why are games like Days Gone like this? So grotesquely, illogically distended? I know exactly how they pitched this over at Sony HQ. A man walked in and said “What if State of Decay, rather than a game where players generated their own stories, was as relentlessly scripted as The Last of Us. And it played exactly like Red Dead Redemption 2.”

And before the man at Sony could respond the man pitching said “and the horse is a motorbike.”

It’s not a horrible idea, even if the influences are worn so apparently on the game’s sleeves that you almost wonder why you’re bothering. I mean the combat is literally Red Dead Redemption’s right down to the “focus” mechanic, and they’ve even got Red Dead Redemption’s random events and even animal hunting in it (which is crap, and thankfully you never need to bother with it.)

(A big aside here however to note that this is yet another piece of media with anti-wolf propaganda featuring the animals as creatures who attack on sight even though wolves sensibly stay the fuck away from humans. Also being forced to murder some bears in this can fuck off too.)

Anyway. Moment-to-moment, Days Gone plays perfectly well in a textbook case of “it’s not as bad as people say” once you actually get your weapons and bike and character upgraded a bit… which is another thing I’m going to complain about. What’s the point in having upgrade systems in your game if it just means the first five or ten or however bloody long of your game you’re stumbling about with a character that just feels crap to play? But once you get there–which takes far too fucking long–the shooting is fun enough, driving around is smooth, and you find yourself quite easily locked into the classic open-world “there’s always another box to tick off” loop.

Where it falls down, really, is that there isn’t… always another box to tick off??? The game has a really baffling way of doling out missions meaning that I often had only one mission on the whole map I could do. I actually thought I was completely screwed about a third of the way through this because the only mission I had to do was a motorbike chase and my bike was woefully unequipped because I didn’t have enough “trust” with the camp that would upgrade my bike to actually even really keep up with the enemy I was chasing. Thanks to my incredible skills, of course, I did beat it and then suddenly about six missions all appeared, but for many players that might have been it.

(If you want to hear something ridiculous about the way the game doles out missions, you basically can only get them when you’re riding on your bike outside of the camps, meaning that you’ll be in a camp with nothing to do, drive outside, suddenly get a radio call from the people inside that camp, and have to go right back. I know why they do it–what if you got the radio call while standing in front of the NPC in the camp–but why can’t you just get the whole task on the radio? You drive back and they just tell you what to do! They could have done it over the bloody radio!!!)

The pacing here is just so incredibly off. Trust with camps takes an age to grow because doing a mission might get you (literally) 400 points of the way to 25,000, and handing in bounties or hunting animals gets you like… 3 points each.

Later, of course, you realise it’s this way because the game unlocks its signature experience, “horde hunting” in the endgame, and you’ll be killing so many zombies that you’re swimming in points. However that means you’ve played almost the entire game unlocking almost nothing.

Horde hunting, actually, is the perfect example of how Days Gone just doesn’t quite get it. Hordes are all across the map through the whole game. The game doesn’t introduce the idea that you can defeat them until the end of the game. The hordes that are in the initial areas are smaller–sometimes as few as 25 zombies–and would be perfect to learn from.

The first horde the game expects you defeat, because it’s tied to a mission? Three. Hundred. Zombies.

It is absolutely idiotic. It’s not even a well designed encounter! The second horde you face in the story mode has a very clear path that they can chase you along lined with explosive trucks that kills basically all of them? The “end boss” horde has a train tunnel you can easily funnel them into! 

The thing that should be the most fun and rewarding thing in the game you don’t actually do throughout the game unless you know to do it without the game telling you, so by the time you get to do them, you’re probably too fucking bored of the game to want to. I know I was.

(And even then only the story mission hordes get marked with a life bar, so if you’re facing one randomly early in the game you have no idea if you’re actually completing part of the game until the “horde defeated” dialogue comes up. Which it might not, because there’s no leeway, and if you miss a random straggler or they clip out of the world or something (I did face some geometry issues) you’re fucked. And never mind if you’d like to practice on an earlier easier horde before doing that mission once you discover it, because you’re locked out of the earlier part of the map.)

To finish giving this a kicking, I have to say the Last of Us this ain’t. This has the most ridiculously po-faced and predictable story I’ve seen in a game in a while, mistaking a hero who comes across as a petulant arse as a rebel (well, when he doesn’t come across as unhinged, his breathless bloodlust when entering enemy camps is laughable). There’s too much simplistic edgy shit that the writers mistook for profound (damn… man sure can be inhuman to… man) and the game’s main plot, “Our protagonist is sad because his wife is dead… or is she?” is genuinely embarrassing.

I mean, I don’t know where to start with it. I know the writers would swear blind we’re supposed to be laughing along with the game during a flashback where our hero gets married in a backwards ball cap and his new wife says “Promise to ride me as much as your bike” but every other flashback sequence is so saccharine to cry irony there is beyond disingenuous (and I know it’s a callback.) And the game’s classic open-world rug-pull (there’s more map!) leads to a sequence where no character’s motivations make any sense at all. Why aren’t these characters talking to each other, you wonder? Why did our characters make these decisions in the first place???

I did laugh at the game’s “oh no my best friend is dead” fake out right at the end though. It was like Danny Aiello at the end of Hudson Hawk. “Yeah! That’s probably what happened!”

Speaking of that best friend though, (spoilers) a huge chunk of the game is about how he’s sad about how he’s lost an arm and can never ride a bike again. There’s a mission where the protagonist wants to fix it and I thought “oh, he’s going to find the material to get him a device that will help him control a bike one handed” but instead he… makes him a knife arm.

One armed people can ride motorcycles. This game is so stupid.

Will I ever play it again? There are four post-credit missions that absurdly the game makes you wait 8 in-game days to see all of because I guess they assume you’re having at ton of fun playing it more. I wasn’t, I slept in a bed for eight days and then laughed at the cut-scene promising a sequel that will never come via the silliest cliffhanger I can imagine in context.

Final Thought: The weird thing about Days Gone is that you could easily say to me “well, the reason you didn’t like this that much is that you finished it. You should have just played it till you were bored and then stopped.” Except for the fact that the game doesn’t hit the sweet spot of “not as bad as people say” until you’ve played it for ages to get upgraded and shit. This is another game with a new game+ that seems absolutely insane because why would you want to do everything over again. There’s no reason this campaign wasn’t ten hours long, forcing me to specialise in my first playthrough while keeping the upgrades and improvements flowing at a speedy clip and then letting me play the game again doing different things if I want to. No one wants six miles of whopper. Give me six miles of individual whoppers and I’ll think it’s a bit wasteful but I’ll happily eat a couple and move on with my life.

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[allthingsfangirl101]

Private, But Still Perfect–Joe Keery

The meeting with our wedding planner got interrupted by the paparazzi.

Again.

When we got to the car, Joe quickly drove to our apartment. I held in my frustrated sigh when I noticed him taking the long way home.

"You okay over there?"

"I'm fine," I shrugged.

"You sure?" He pushed. "You've been in your head since we got in the car. Penny for your thoughts?"

"I'm just tired," I whispered. "I'm tired of being interrupted by creeps with cameras. We can't get lunch without them finding us. How are we supposed to plan our wedding if we keep getting interrupted?"

Joe sighed as he reached over and grabbed my hand.

"I'm so sorry, baby," he said under his breath. "I didn't think they'd follow us home. They've followed me when I was filming but never home before. It's almost like, ever since we got engaged, they've doubled their efforts to get a picture of us."

"They're trying to get dirt on us," I said, not able to hide my frustration anymore. "They want to exploit our relationship and see how far they can push us apart."

"Doesn't matter," Joe said, making me look at him, "because they are never getting between us."

"But. . ."

"Absolutely not," he said sternly. "I don't care who the hell they think they are. No one is getting between us. Not after everything we've fought for."

When Joe and I first started seeing each other, the press got a hold of our relationship and ran with it. They put us on every magazine in the store. And the more magazines they put us on, the more people attacked our relationship. Everyone said we weren't good enough.

Well, everyone said I wasn't good enough. And it destroyed me. I fell into a deep depression and tried to break up with Joe. He ran to my side and stayed there. He made it clear that he knew what he wanted and what he wanted was me. He reassured me time and time again that he knew I was enough.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my breath getting stuck in my throat. Joe sighed as he squeezed my hand.

"Don't be," he said gently. "I wish I could tell you that after we get married, things are going to slow down. But honestly? I don't know if it will. I hope so. I hope they'll focus on the newest Hollywood couple and leave us the hell alone."

When we got home, I instantly went inside. The rest of the night, neither one of us said anything. I got dinner ready while Joe responded to some emails in his office.

Joe surprised me on our three-year anniversary with a house. We got engaged a year later. It was the perfect size for us; two floors, three beds, three baths. It was just outside LA where we could get away from the traffic and our neighbors didn't care that Joe was famous.

"The timer went off."

I jumped at the sudden voice. I looked over at the oven to see the timer had gone off. I grabbed the oven mitts from the kitchen counter and pulled out the pan of chicken.

"You need help setting the table?"

"It's already set."

When I walked to set the napkins on the table, Joe grabbed my arm and stopped me.

"Hey," he whispered, making me look up at him. "I know this isn't the life you thought you'd have; dodging paparazzi, pictures on magazines, fans knowing more about you than I do. This was what I signed up for, not you."

"I knew exactly what I was signing up for," I said instantly. "And I wouldn't take any of it back."

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too."

                                * * * * *

After dinner, we started to plan the little things for our wedding. We chose colors, flowers, food-the basic things your wedding planner usually asks.

"I can't plan anymore," I sighed as I leaned against his shoulder. Joe laughed and leaned down, pressing his lips to the top of my head.

"I know," he chuckled. "Everything is starting to blur together. Colors, flowers. They all look the same."

"I know I said I want a big wedding, and I still do," I said, cuddling into him more. "I just didn't think it would be so much work."

"Here I was thinking hiring a wedding planner would take that stress away from you," he chuckled. "All it's done is made it worse."

We sat in silence for a little longer, just enjoying the peace. Suddenly, Joe sat up straighter.

"You okay?" I asked as I leaned back and looked up at him.

"I have an idea," he said slowly. He looked over at me and I could see the wheels turning.

"Do you have a white dress?"

"What?" I chuckled.

"We could go to the courthouse."

"The courthouse," I said slowly. "Why would we. . ."

"I know this sounds crazy," Joe chuckled. "But it could work. Especially if we call ahead and see if we can get the last time slot. But just to be safe, we wear normal clothes and change when we get there. Then we'll change back into our normal clothes before we head home. It won't take long. We'll be married by the end of the day tomorrow."

"Slow down," I stuttered. "Joe, do you hear yourself? This is. . ."

"Let's get married," he said sternly. "Tomorrow. We'll go down to the courthouse."

"But. . ."

"We can still have a big wedding," he added. "If we get married tomorrow, we don't have to worry about any of the technicalities. We'll already be married, so we can focus on the fun part of a wedding."

"Are you sure about this?"

Joe smiled as he reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, his hand lingering. "I don't need a big ceremony or a grand party. All I need is you, me, and someone who can marry us. Everything else is just for show."

I bit my bottom lip and hesitated. I looked at the love in his eyes and smiled.

"Let's do it."

                                * * * * *

The whole way to the courthouse the next day, Joe didn't let go of my hand. When we got there, I let out a deep breath.

"You okay?" Joe asked. "You're not having second thoughts about this, are you?"

"Of course not," I chuckled. "I still want to do this, baby. That was a relieved sigh."

"Relieved?"

"I don't see any paparazzi."

Joe looked around outside and laughed. "I don't see any either. We better get inside before they find us."

We jumped out of the car and I laughed as he grabbed my hand, pulling me inside. We walked over to the receptionist and she told us where to wait. After finding out where they held the weddings, we found the restrooms and got changed.

I smoothed out my short white cocktail dress. Sure, it wasn't exactly what I expected to be married in but none of this was what I expected. It didn't matter anymore. What mattered was finally being married to Joe.

I walked out of the bathroom and smiled when I saw Joe waiting with his back to me.

"Joe?"

He turned around, his breath getting stuck in his throat when he saw me. The longer he stared at me, the more his eyes filled with tears. He walked over to me and instantly pressed his lips to mine. I let out a small giggle as I kissed him back. He broke it and pressed his forehead to mine.

"You look so beautiful," he whispered.

"Thank you," I whispered. I reached down and straightened his tie. "I like this suit. Have you worn it before?"

"Nope," he chuckled. "I didn't want to get married in a suit I've worn down the red carpet. I wanted to get married in a special suit."

"I like it."

"I got you something while you were getting ready."

I looked up and smiled as he grabbed something off the table. "I know these aren't the exact roses or baby breath that we talked about but. . ."

I gasped when he showed me a bouquet he had boughten.

"But a bride needs a bouquet," he finished. I slowly took the flowers and looked up at him through my tears.

"These are perfect," I whispered. I stood on my toes and pressed my lips to his.

"Keery wedding?"

We broke apart and looked at the smiling old woman. "The preacher is finishing up the wedding before yours. He should be ready in a few minutes."

"Thank you," Joe nodded. He looked back at me and tightened his arms around me.

"You ready to become Mrs. Keery?" He teased.

"As long as you're ready to have a wife," I teased him back.

                                * * * * *

We said our vows in a small chapel on the second floor of the courthouse. Even though we planned to leave in our street clothes, neither one of us felt like changing so we left in what we got married in.

The drive home was quiet and peaceful. Joe drove one-handed, his other hand playing with the ring that made me his wife. As we walked into the house, Joe held the door open for me. I smiled as I walked by him.

I took my coat off and draped it over the back of one of the kitchen table chairs. I gasped when Joe walked over and wrapped his arms around my waist from behind.

"How are you, Mrs. Keery?"

I chuckled as I turned around in his arms. I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck.

"I am doing great, Mr. Keery."

He smirked as he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss got heated fast. Joe broke the kiss and started kissing my neck.

"Baby," I moaned.

Suddenly, he pulled away. My heart sank when I saw the look in his face.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't help but feel guilty," he whispered.

"Guilty?" I chuckled. "Joe, we just got married. You already regret it?"

"Of course not," he laughed. I relaxed when he did. "I feel guilty because you deserve a big, grand wedding. Not a secret one."

"Hey," I said, making him look up at me. "I don't need a big flashy wedding. I just need you."

I stood on my toes and pressed my lips to his. He deepened the kiss by pulling me in closer to his chest. I broke the kiss, earning a disappointed whine from Joe.

"Our wedding may have been small and private," I whispered. "But it was still perfect."

[elftwink]

no thoughts only taakitz superhero/villain coffeeshop au. taako’s power is shapeshifting but he has a cool gun from lup. kravitz’s power is Big Fuckin Scythe With Unspecified Abilities. also there was no time to get into it but fantasy starbucks isn’t a real starbucks it’s a borderline illegal unaffiliated bootleg starbucks that taako and lup own. like dumb starbucks was.

By all rights, it should have been a fairly routine night for the Reaper. Go out, stop some crimes, arrive just in time to prevent whatever scheme the Mongoose had cooked up this week, exchange some one liners, make some threats that essentially amounted to ‘same time next week?’, the works. A regular Tuesday as a superhero in Neverwinter.

But Kravitz is tired, and more than a little distracted, so he’s not doing so hot on the one liners, and the Mongoose’s attacks are a little closer than they would normally be. He doesn’t even have a good excuse, it’s not like he’s injured, or that he has anything pressing to think of.

It was just— this morning his barista (who he may or may not have been harbouring a small crush on) had mentioned offhand that he thought the Reaper was ‘probably hot under the stupid all-black getup’, and Kravitz didn’t really know what the protocol was for someone complimenting your alter-ego was.

“I think if you were gonna go for the strong silent type, you had to start doing it months ago. Now it’s just acting like an asshole. Are you mad at me?” the Mongoose cuts into his thoughts, firing off another few missiles from his stupid umbrella gun (Umbrastaff, he called it, although it was a gun and not a staff so Kravitz had no idea why he insisted on calling it that).

“We are literally fighting as we speak,” says Kravitz, playing up the cockney accent, spinning his scythe to deflect the missiles off the blade, sending them ricocheting around the room. He’d said something like ‘how can you tell’ to Taako— the barista (well, they’d been on a first name basis for a few weeks, so, Taako), and he’d said ‘I can just tell’ which was not at all helpful in getting Kravitz through the conversation without saying or doing something to give himself away.

He’d almost given Taako his number, but how was he going to justify that? Hey, it’s me under the all black getup. Do you want to go out sometime? As if.

“You can have fights without being fuckin’ rude,” says the Mongoose, firing off another few rounds, which Kravitz deflects again, advancing on him.

“You’re right, sorry. I’m a bit scattered. Not exactly my A game.” As if to prove his point, the Mongoose easily dodges his next couple swings with the scythe, not even bothering to leave his range.

“Clearly. I mean, normally you’re at least close enough that I can feel the breeze from your sword.”

“It’s not a sword, and you know that.” Kravitz brings down the scythe in the space where the Mongoose was only seconds before, having already backflipped out of the way and landed a few metres back. Show off. Not that Kravitz had room to complain about that. The Mongoose spins to face him again, at least this time seemingly aware of what a close call that was. He’s tense, and his hair, which Kravitz supposes has thus far been hidden underneath his costume, has come somewhat unravelled, black braid falling to the middle of his back.

It seems... familiar?

He doesn’t have time for that right now. Kravitz draws back the scythe, feeling the hum of energy under his fingers, swinging again, and—

“Wait! Time out!” the Mongoose puts up a hand and Kravitz, for who knows what reason, stops his scythe mid-swing. The familiarity sticks, so it’s not just a trick of the light. It takes him a second to place, but the hairstyle... it looks a lot like a certain barista he’d been spending all night thinking about.

He shakes his head, trying to clear it. It’s because he has Taako on the brain, is all. Besides, he has other things to worry about besides seeing his crush in his enemy. Namely the fight currently happening with said enemy. “What? You can’t call a time out.”

“I just did,” says the Mongoose, fishing through his pockets and pulling out several bobby pins, sticking them in his mouth so he can use both hands to fix his hair. Kravitz blinks, still trying to shake off the sense of deja vu, but it won’t quit nagging him. “It’s a whole safety issue to leave long hair down.”

“It’s still in a braid,” retorts Kravitz.

“Somebody never took Foodsafe.” the Mongoose gives him a lopsided grin that Kravitz fucking knows he’s seen before, and suddenly it’s more than just passing familiarity, and how could he possibly have not noticed before, and— the Mongoose finishes putting up his hair, raising an eyebrow at Kravitz and his private crisis. “Alright. Ready—”

“You work at Fantasy Starbucks,” blurts Kravitz, without even thinking about it. The Mongoose stops dead in his tracks, and Kravitz can see his eyes widen even behind the mask. He splutters for a moment, and then seems to find his footing, already ready with a snarky remark.

“Yeah, well— your accent is fake.”

Shit. He’d forgotten. At the only time so far that having it would have been useful too. Still, he pushes it out of his mind; the Mongoose hadn’t denied it. And, well, he’s already solidly derailed this fight, so he might as well get some real confirmation out of it.

“...Taako? It is you, isn’t it?”

“Just who the fuck are y—” The Mongoose— Taako— levels the Umbrastaff at him, and then stops again. “...Kravitz?”

Well. Shit. Again. Kravitz doesn’t bother to affirm that; his silence is more than enough confirmation. One of them has to say or do something, but the seconds stretch on.

“You’re telling me I said all that shit to your face this morning?” says Taako.

“That’s what you’re worried about right now?”

“Uh, yeah—” Taako is backing up now, and they’ve fought enough times that Kravitz knows when the Mongoose is looking for an escape route; Kravitz’s feet still feel glued to the floor, even when Taako reaches the window, fingers already turning to talons around the Umbrastaff. Taako breaks the glass (because of course he does, even though the windows aren’t even fucking locked), breaking eye contact with Kravitz in order to swing his legs through the window before his form changes too much. “Look, this is like, a lot right now, and I— I’m getting the fuck out of here,” he says, and then drops. Whatever had been keeping Kravitz in place, slack jawed, ends as soon as Taako leaves his sight, and he’s moving before he has time to think about it.

“Wait—!” Kravitz runs for the window, but by the time he gets there, the bird clutching the Umbrastaff is nearly out of sight.

Well. That could have gone better.

***

Kravitz doesn’t go for his coffee the next day. Or the next day, either, although the day after that he’s sick of making his own coffee. And frankly, he misses chatting with Taako. Even if the guy was trying to kill him like once a week. He couldn’t just avoid this forever.

Still, the fact that Taako is working cash when he comes in makes him want to turn tail and run back home. He conjures up the memory of yesterday’s shitty coffee and pushes onward. The shop is mostly empty still, so there’s no line.

“The usual?” says Taako, like nothing abnormal has happened.

“Please,” says Kravitz, and then, before he can chicken out entirely, adds, “Uhm, do you have a few minutes?”

“My shift isn’t over until—”

“I’ll cover you,” comes Lup’s voice from the back room; she pokes her head out and gives Taako a look that is clearly significant, but that Kravitz can’t quite puzzle out. “Take five minutes after you’re done making his coffee.”

Taako scowls at her, and she smiles brightly before heading to the back again.

“Okay. I guess I have five minutes. Talk to you after I make your coffee.”

Kravitz nods, and goes to hover around the pickup counter, pretending to be interested in things on his phone. Taako makes his coffee in a ceramic mug, which at least means he doesn’t want Kravitz to get the fuck out as soon as possible, so that’s... something.

Taako slides the finished coffee across the counter, circling around to join Kravitz on the customer side as Kravitz grabs the mug.

“Lup!” he hollers, and then starts walking towards one of the corner booths without checking to see if his sister is headed to cash or if Kravitz is following. Kravitz does, though, sliding himself into the seat opposite Taako, hands wrapped tightly around the mug.

Taako speaks first. “To be honest, I kinda thought you would rat me out.”

“That would be shitty of me, to just sic authorities on your place of work without so much as a warning.”

“So is this the warning?”

“No,” says Kravitz, taking a sip of his coffee, “I... can’t really make coffee without burning it. And this is the only place for miles with tolerable muffins.”

Taako cracks a grin, like Kravitz knew he would. “Flattery will get you nowhere.” His smile falls, and he crosses his arms and leans back. “So. Reaper. Why didn’t you rat me out?”

Why indeed. Kravitz takes another sip of his coffee and thinks for a second, not even sure himself what his explanation will be once he starts talking.

“It didn’t seem... fair. You’re less of a villain and more of a pain in my ass—” Kravitz ignores Taako’s indignant noise and keeps talking, “—and while we always have cause to fight when on the clock, you’re not doing anything that I feel needs to leave the bounds of those... work hours, I guess.”

Taako is trying to pick him apart with his gaze; it’s something he’s been subjected to several times, although normally in costume, and in retrospect it’s difficult to imagine how he spent so long not noticing the Mongoose in Taako.

Whatever Taako is looking for, he must find it, because he relaxes a bit, and shoots him a lazy grin. “Plus, Mongoose related insurance just got rolling and it would be fuckin’ rude to take me out of commission before anyone got to use theirs.”

Kravitz laughs. “Sure.” He’s silent for a second, before adding, “You aren’t planning on revealing my secret identity, are you? Awfully rude of you to double cross me like that.”

“Wha— You didn’t even give me a chance to respond! Maybe I wasn’t!”

“Were you?”

“I was,” admits Taako, not even pretending to look sheepish. Kravitz raises his eyebrows, and Taako shrugs. “Oh, like you didn’t think about revealing my secret identity? And could you imagine the hype if I unmasked the Reaper? I was tempted.” He sighs. “But I figured then you’d have no reason to keep my identity a secret. No way am I risking a backfire like that.”

It sounds callous, but Kravitz has been talking to Taako almost daily for months; at this point, he can pretty reliably pick up on when Taako isn’t being entirely truthful about something.

“Hmm. Then I suppose it’d be in my best interest not to tell you that I wouldn’t reveal your identity even if you revealed mine?”

Taako narrows his eyes. “Why not?”

Kravitz makes a face. “It’s just in poor taste. I just think we all go through all the trouble to hide who we are and use these powers for good— or whatever it is you do— that it’s always going to be such a low blow to reveal who we are. There might be times where it’s necessary, but petty revenge is not one of them.”

Taako’s expression hasn’t changed; if anything, he’s narrowed his eyes more. “God, you are like— fuckin’ irritatingly nice. Fine. I wasn’t going to reveal your identity. That would be fuckin’ annoying to deal with. Plus I’m having fun.”

“Fun?”

“Oh don’t— don’t fucking lie to me. I know you’re having fun out there too. With your stupid accent and one liners and shit.”

“Alright, alright,” says Kravitz, rolling his eyes. “But I’m not supposed to be having fun, so keep it quiet.”

“See, that’s why I market myself as a villain. No dumb rules.” He puts an elbow on the table and leans on his hand. “Why do you have a fake accent anyway?”

Heat rises to Kravitz’s face, and he’s hoping he looks less embarrassed than he feels. “It’s my— I do it so people don’t recognize my voice.”

Taako laughs. “Well, it doesn’t really do that if you immediately stop using it when you realize you might know someone.”

“I was caught off guard!” defends Kravitz. “It’s not every day you find out your nemesis is your barista.”

“Nemesis, huh?” Taako grins. “Didn’t realize it was that serious to you. You know I have other heroes to fight.”

Kravitz rolls his eyes again. “I don’t see how you have the time, considering how often you’re causing trouble for me.”

Taako laughs, and it’s so contagious and the whole conversation is so surreal Kravitz can’t help but laugh too, before they both lapse into a comfortable, if drawn out, silence.

“So, uh,” says Taako eventually, “what now?”

“Well,” says Kravitz, “I want to keep coming in for coffee in the mornings. And I assume the Mongoose will continue with... whatever chaos it is you currently have planned.”

“It’s not chaos,” insists Taako, “I have plans. But yeah. And I assume the Reaper is gonna show up and throw a wrench in those plans?”

“Yes, probably. So we’ll just be enemies by night...” Kravitz trails off, not entirely sure how to refer to their by day relationship. Friends? Potential love interests? Acquaintances? There’s a few seconds of awkward silence before Kravitz gives up entirely.

Taako pulls and pen and a napkin out of his pocket, jotting something down and pushing it towards Kravitz.

“Here’s, uh, here’s my number. If you give me a heads up five minutes before you get here, we can have your coffee ready by the time you walk in. If you’re nice to me out there.”

“I don’t take bribes,” says Kravitz, grabbing the napkin and pulling out his phone to type in the number.

“That wasn’t a bribe, it was a threat. You don’t even wanna know what I’ll do to your coffee if you fuck me up.”

Kravitz doesn’t bother to point out that neither of them have ever caused any extreme bodily harm to one another and instead says, “So you’re asking me to go easy on you? I thought you were having fun.” He sends Taako a ‘hey it’s kravitz’ text before he has time to second guess himself.

“Could you stop poking holes in my threats? You’re harshing my fuckin’ vibe, Krav.” He sounds irritated, but Kravitz can see the smile tugging at his lips as he texts Kravitz a couple of skull emojis. “I should get back to work before my sister kicks my ass,” he says, standing back up. “I’ll see you tonight, nemesis.” Then he turns on his heels and heads back to the counter, saying something to Lup as he walks by. Kravitz watches him disappear into the back room.

Tonight.

Kravitz had better make sure he had hung his cloak up to dry.

[jojikawa]

Mrs. Bucciarati | Bruno Bucciarati x Fem! Reader | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

┊❥ Part 2 - Unknown Actor

MASTERLIST

✧『Fandom』: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

✧『Character』: Bruno Bucciarati

✧『Word Count』: 4,307 words 23,152 characters

✧『Summary』: Bucciarati gets to witness the power of the reader's stand but only for a second.

The boys were arguing amongst each other about what to do. Obviously, they all acted like chickens with their heads cut off when Bruno wasn’t around.

Once Mista had described the situation to Bucciarati, he began to panic as well. You assumed it was because it was such a small boat. You had to think, how could you help?!

“(y/n)!” Bruno yelled. “Stay close to me. We have no idea who they could go for next.” He commanded. You listened and grabbed onto his arm.

You wanted to help. You wanted to be of use somehow. What could some gang member do to that poor kid? Time freezing the boat would be useless because Narancia would still be gone.

This wasn’t a fight for you. You could only hope Bruno and the others could come up with a plan.

“No more secrets, stronzo!” Abbacchio growled. He stomped over to Bruno who was already sweating at the situation. “First, you come up with an insane plan that’s going to get us killed, then you bring some woman that you’re supposed to be married to that you’ve never EVER told me about and now we’re on some boat heading to a place that you haven’t told any of us about now Narancia is gone.” He roared.

Your heart rate began to rise. You didn’t like yelling and Abbacchio already frightened you when he was quiet. Now everyone’s going to be upset at Bruno.

Bruno sighed. It was probably time he trusted his team a bit more. He just didn’t want to risk someone finding out about you and trying to harm you when you were too far away to protect.

“Yeah, enough surprises, Bucciarati. Where is this boat taking us? Why would Narancia disappear?” Mista asked angrily.

“I was waiting for us to get further away so that it would be safe to tell you. I didn’t expect things to go south so soon.” Bruno replied. You pursed your lips. You had to say something or else you would just be leaving him to fend for himself.

“Bucciarati wanted to tell you all what was going on but I distracted him with my own issues I needed to speak with him about.” You had said your piece to intervene.

Since you were new, no one was comfortable enough around you to really be rude to you on the same level as Bruno, apart from Abbacchio. He seemed to stay quiet this time, though.

Bruno took a moment to breathe. He spoke on only one breath.

“This morning it was found out that the Capo killed himself. Word spreads like wildfire and it’s my job to reclaim Polpo’s fortune and take his place as Capo.” He explained as calmly as he could. He assumed the enemy knew that and attacked while no one was ready.

Keeping everyone out of the loop was surely not the move to make.

Suddenly, Bruno felt your grasp and presence slipping away.

“MRS. BUCCIARATI!!” Giorno screamed, he sprinted over and tried to reach his hand out to you.

In a matter of moments, you were being sucked into the crevice of the boat.

“Merda!” Bruno yelled as he reached out as well.

“Bruno!” You called out to him as he gripped your hand but your skin and bones turn to rubber and slipped right through.

“DAMN IT! (Y/N)!!” Bucciarati cried. “Where did she go!? ZipperMan!!” Bucciarati’s stand revealed itself and began barraging the wooden planks in the area you were taken.

“You have to calm down, Bucciarati!” Giorno yelled at him. “We have to figure where they’ve been taken! They still have to be on the boat.”

Giorno then pointed over to a fly that had been lingering around the back area of the boat. “I turned Narancia’s shoe into a fly and it’s returning to where it came from but it seems to be stuck here.”

“I knew bringing that girl was going to be a problem. See how emotional you get?” Abbacchio narrowed his eyes at Bucciarati.

Bucciarati had only eyed him, inaudibly gasping at how obvious his feelings for you were. All they had to do was take you and he would completely lose composure.

The reactions of Narancia and you going missing were completely different from each other. Now the enemy knows you’re important.

“Mista?”

Everyone turned their attention over to Fugo who was meekly calling Mista’s name.

“Mista! Where did you go!?” He continued yelling. “Come on, Mista! Don’t tell me you’re in on this too.”

And another one disappeared.

“Fugo!” Bucciarati chased after him but he was already gone.

“Giorno, Abbacchio, stick together. We’re under attack!”

Bucciarati had speculated that there was a stowaway in the ship. The attacker must already know they’re on their way to claim Polpo’s money.

His idea was to kill everyone and try to make him talk.

“Giorno, what was that you said about Narancia earlier.” He asked quickly.

Giorno pointed again. “The fly is trying to return to its owner. Everyone is alive, or else the fly I created wouldn’t try flying around in that particular area. It wants to search for him over there.” He explained fully this time.

This relieved Bucciarati because it meant you were alive too.

With the crashing of the waves, objects in the boat began to sway. An object hit the base of Bucciarati’s foot.

It was a small ring that looked quite familiar to him.

“What’s that?” Abbacchio curiously asked.

“It’s hers.”

Abbacchio wanted to scold Bucciarati again but he held his tongue. Nothing he could say or do would make him care any less for you.

Giorno stepped towards the Capo. “Oh, I see it must’ve fallen just like Narancia’s shoe. I can turn that into a fly as well to see-”

“DON’T.” The dark-haired male snapped. “We find Narancia, we find them all. You don't have to touch her belongings.” He then put the ring on his own finger. Now he had on two rings.

Seeing it brought back pleasant memories...

Bruno had just arrived in America. It was the usual trip but every time he took it, it felt short and more bearable. The outcome was always worth it.

This time, he had a very special gift that was more than any other present that he could’ve ever given to you.

The marriage was arranged, yes, but there was never any proper notification. He was never able to take you out on dates because you couldn’t leave your home and he wasn’t able to visit more regularly because of his work in Italy.

So what was a better idea than to buy an engagement ring?

He made sure it was cut from the finest diamonds from the finest crafters in Italy. To him, you deserved perfection.

It was the middle of the day when he arrived at the upper-class home you were staying in. It was like a mansion almost but only you and the staff that your father appointed lived there.

Knocking on the door, he could feel a pit in his stomach, almost worried that you would react negatively to his gift. Being married was inevitable but was it something you really wanted? He didn’t know and only hoped for the best.

It was the head maid that answered this time.

“Oh, Bruno Bucciarati! I was starting to think you would postpone this time but you never miss a visit, do you?” She joked, happily.

“Signora Bethany, you know I would never miss seeing cara. I’m so sorry that I kept her waiting. Has she been expecting me?” Bruno looked up at the window that was supposed to be the window into your room. He didn’t see you.

“Yes,” Bethany sighed. “Since this morning.”

“It was very ungentlemanly of me to keep a lady waiting like that.” He frowned at the situation.

Bethany then let him in and he quickly made his way to your room.

As he approached, he could smell the sweet scent of perfume and lotion that you wore ever so often. He knocked but the force of it pushed the door open a bit.

‘Her door’s unlocked?’ He thought to himself. He then leaned forward to peek inside. There was no sight of you.

“Mia Tesoro!” He called. Normally, you would answer right away. “I’m coming in!” But still no answer.

He walked around your room carefully. He could smell the vapor mist of water. You recently showered. He pushed any lewder thoughts out of his mind. Although, he is curious to see what you’d look like!

There was a faint trail of water on your (color) carpet that he followed. It led to a room that had a small light on. The door was cracked and he could sense a presence in there.

“Cara..” he whispered.

“Bruno?” Your angelic voice graced his ears. He smiled at your innocent voice and invited himself in.

“Oh, good afternoon, cara mia. I’m sorry I kept you waiting, I-”

“Bruno!” You cut him off by screaming his name. “I’m not done changing!”

Bruno blushed madly, stumbling backward, back out the door of the dressing room. “I promise, I didn’t see anything!” He averted his eyes and stood outside the door. That was a lie…

You hurried and put on the rest of your clothes.

Did Bruno just walk in on you!? He was a smart man, how could he not consider such a thing? Although… you didn’t mind that much. You were marrying him.

Once you were dressed you left the dressing room. Bruno was sitting in an armchair next to your bed, still red as a tomato.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s okay, Bruno. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” You smiled at him and sat on your bed. “Why were you late this time?”

He wanted to speak but the image of your naked body was etched into his mind. He knew you were curvy and your skin was smooth, perfectly clearly almost but just seeing it like that…

“Bruno.” You called again, this time getting his attention. “I’m sorry, I’m just-, uh the flight was tiring. Excuse my behavior.”

“It’s fine, I suppose. You’re here now. What’s in the box?” You pointed to the velvet red box in his hand.

“Oh, this?” He pursed his lips and opened the box carefully. You leaned over for a better look and the reveal was amazing!

“We are supposed to be together but I have nothing to show for it. I hand-picked us rings from Italy. I believe this is your ring size.” He said, proudly as he took out the rings one at a time.

“They’re really pretty.”

“You think so? I’m glad you enjoy them. May I?” He held out the ring and you gave him your hand. He slipped the ring on your finger and you did the same to him.

“It’s like our own private wedding.” Bruno interlocked his hand with yours. You blushed at his actions. He was such a gentleman.

“I can’t understand why you like me so much.” Your glossy eyes were locked with his.

“Huh? How can I not?” He asked.

“I… I don’t do anything. I don’t have any talents or-“

“Please, my love, don’t beat yourself up. You’re everything I could've wanted. When I first saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful girl I would’ve ever come across. I made an effort to get to know you and now I only want you to be mine.”

You gasped at his words. “Do you really mean that?” The corners of your eyes were pricked with tears.

“Of course I mean it. I would never lie to you.” Bruno then leaned over and pressed his forehead against yours.

“I will do anything to make you happy, cara mia.”

When Bruno came to, he heard Giorno going deeper into what the enemy could actually be doing to make everyone disappear.

“Va bene,” Bucciarati replied. “Unless we can decipher the enemy’s abilities, a single misstep can cost us our lives.” He said.

Giorno agreed and suggested we study their stand so that they could take them down.

Then it hit him. Abbacchio’s stand could be the key to finding how everyone was taken.

“Abbacchio, our secret weapon could be your stand.”

But of course, Abbacchio was too cautious to reveal his stand to Giorno. This sparked an argument between the two of them.

“You’re just a piece of shit.” Abbacchio spat to Giorno. At this point, there was no other convincing he could do. He had to go for it and let the others solve the mystery.

“Bucciarati,” Giorno called one last time. “What is it, Giorno?”

“Is Mrs. Bucciarati a stand user?”

Bucciarati narrowed his eyes slightly. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Giorno took this as a ‘yes’ in his own book but explained anyway. “If she’s a stand user, that explains why they took her and they might even know what her stand power is.”

Really? But it was top secret. How could they? Then he remembered.

Your words echoed in his head:

“I got my stand. I can’t stop time but I can freeze others in time.”

The attacker must have been spying on you two from the very beginning!

Bucciarati kept this revelation to himself and he let Giorno do his thing. The blonde-haired boy ran like his life depended on it towards the place Narancia was taken.

An elastic hand came and grabbed him, pulling him out of the sky where he had jumped and impaled him, turning him into rubber before disappearing too.

This ignited something in Abbacchio. This pushed him to get to work!

Abbacchio used Moody Jazz and the fly to locate everyone. It was trouble at first and even Abbacchio got taken, leaving Bucciarati all alone…

“What did you do to my Familia!?”

Bucciarati didn’t expect an answer but he got one. A smug laugh invaded his ears.

He mocked and teased Bucciarati about his situation.

“You Bastardo! You were eavesdropping on-”

“I’m the one who’s talking here, not you. Now keep your mouth shut. Your minions only live because I allow it. They’re in suspended animation.”

“Are you a part of Passione…?"

It had only been a few moments when you regained consciousness. Where were you? Everything was black. You couldn’t move, but with a little effort… you were able to move your arms, then your legs, and now your whole body!

“Bruno…” you called quietly, standing to your feet. There was no answer. You still had all your clothes on but they were almost soaked in the ankle-deep water.

Instinctively, you walked forward. The more you walked, the more you were able to see a light forming.

In the distance, you could hear muffled voices.

One of them sounded like-

“Bruno!”

You ran and ran as fast as you could. The light got bigger and bigger until eventually you were only consumed by light.

Your body felt heavy again but your clothes were dry but it wasn’t dark. You opened your eyes and you were faced with wooden planks. You felt a sharp pain in your left side. You rested your right hand on it.

As you felt a liquid coat your fingers, you realized it was blood. You were stabbed.

Bruno could hear your winces of pain! He quickly ran over to you.

“There you are, cara mia. What happened to you?” He snatched you up, hugging you closely. He was angry but his gaze at you was still very gentle.

“I-I…” you couldn’t form any words. How did you get out of the attacker’s grasp?

You could only assume it was your stand. “My stand..” you answered.

Bruno’s eyes widened as big as saucers. “Your stand? How so? Explain, please!”

“I can suspend others in time so I have time stop immunity. I can do it to others so it can’t happen to me.” It was like a rush of knowledge entered your brain. ‘Wait, why did I say that? What made me say that?’

“That’s amazing! That’s such strong power!” He shouted.

He helped you up. “Are you hurt?”

Your answer to him was you wincing in pain once again. “Please forgive me for letting this happen to you. Stay close to me, I’ll make this cazzone pay for touching you!”

You leaned against Bruno, you could feel an aura of anger emitting from his body. He used his stand to close your wound to stop the bleeding.

“What? How in the world?!” The attacker’s voice pierced your ears. “How did she get out? I never let go of my stand… this baldracca had to go and make things harder for me. I’ll kill you!”

“Don’t worry, cara mia, I won’t let him take you away again.” He grabbed your hand and squeezed it tightly. Despite having the bleeding stop, the pain was unbearable to you.

You’ve never been in a fight before. You’ve never been injured! You haven’t even broken a bone.

There was a silence. Only the calling of the birds above you.

“Now choose your words carefully. If I find out you lie to me, I’ll kill the bimbo and I’ll make you watch. Where can I find the money the boss left behind.” He made his demands.

“Don’t tell him, Bruno!” You gripped his suit, staining the fabric with the blood from your hands. You wanted to cry. The pain was just too much.

Bruno only tightened his grip on you but he didn’t respond.

“Blacktail gulls.”

Huh??

The attacked showed to be just as confused as you.

“The birds are blacktail gulls, not seagulls. If you’re wondering how I can tell, it’s because they sound like they’re ‘meowing.’”

You blinked. When were they talking about birds? It must’ve happened before you arrived.

“You mentioned they were seagulls before.” He elaborated.

…

“SAY GOODBYE TO YOUR COMRADES!”

“Just try it!” Bruno yelled back. “If Hell doesn’t drag you down first-!”

As soon as he finished his sentence, water sprang up from a nearby hole! The boat quickly began to sink.

Bruno picked you up bridal style. “Please hold onto me.” He whispered in your ear. You listened and held on tightly as he tried to avoid being swept away by the water.

“I didn’t strike the boat to try to find Abbacchio. I was just trying to create a little leak.” He explained.

“But why?!” The attacker screeched.

“He was the one who unraveled this mystery and he was nice enough to leave some evidence there.” Bruno went deeper with his explanation. It was all coming together for you. It made so much sense.

Apparently, it was found out that you were all on the wrong boat as well. Bruno and his allies were really smart… you didn’t consider any of this stuff.

As the boat sank deeper, you could hear gargling like someone was drowning. Bruno didn’t know if you could swim or not so he just held you tightly.

The boat began to shed its skin like a reptile.

“There were two boats all along!”

Bruno jumped from the old boat to the new one as it separated itself.

Instead of letting you down, he continued to hold you as the attacker finally revealed himself.

“You bastard…” You heard him say. “You and that dumb whore…”

“You stretched the boat over one another like some kind of thin skin and ambushed us as you pleased.”

“I would stay still if I were you Bucciarati!!”

“And as for insulting this woman, she’s done nothing to you and you attacked her out of association. That’s wrong and it makes you lesser than any man I’ve ever known.” Bruno tried to control the anger he felt in his heart.

Ever since he met you, he’s only tried to make things right. He didn’t agree with this life nor did he agree to be in a forced marriage but he loved you and wouldn’t want you with anyone else.

“Come any closer and I’ll kill your comrades!

“You of all people should know that you wouldn’t last one day as a Mafioso if a feeble threat like that rattled your bones. My men put their lives on the line for me but the moment you injured my own, this woman, I have to put you down for good.”

You looked up at him. He looked so furious. You’ve never known he could dish out such negativity. He was so different from the man you would have visit your home but not in the way you thought. He was still showing affection for you.

There was a moment where everything was quiet. The two didn’t speak but exchanged words with their eyes. A language you couldn’t understand.

You were too far for the attacker to reach so he had gone for the person in his hand, Abbacchio.

‘Oh no, he’s going to kill him… I have to stop him!!’ You thought.

Bruno quickly showed his stand but he was cut off by your voice.

“Unknown Actor!”

From there the perpetrator couldn’t move. He was frozen in time!

It took Bruno a moment to process what just happened but he took the opportunity and sucker-punched him with his stands power.

“It’s just like Giorno said, your need to remain hidden for attacking is a point of weakness. You need some speed.”

The attacker’s head then detached itself but you could see at the point where it happened, there were zipper marks.

“Bruno, you did it!” You cheered while hugging him. He was surprised at your sudden affection. You were usually so timid with showing your love to him. “No, cara mia, I wouldn’t have been able to stop him in time if it were for you.

Before you knew it, everyone reappeared.

Bruno jumped off of the high ground he was standing on and carefully sat you down next to Abbacchio.

When Abbacchio came to, he figured that he was only alive because Bucciarati had finished the guy off.

“Bravissimo.”

You didn’t want Bruno to leave you but he had to examine everyone. You began to pass out from the pain.

Giorno revealed to Bucciarati that he could heal your wounds.

“Merda! (Y/N)! Are you there?!” Bruno checked your pulse. You were still alive, thank god, but he couldn’t stand knowing you’re in so much pain.

“I can use my stand to heal her with life-giving energy but I don’t know if it would wake her up.” He told him.

“I don’t care, just do it!” And Giorno did so.

When Golden Wind was finished doing its thing, you immediately woke up.

“Cara mia, I was so worried for you.” Bruno embraced you as you had sat up. Even Giorno was surprised at your resilience!

“What happened?” You hugged him back before Giorno told you what was going on.

“Oh, so you can heal others? That’s really useful.” You laughed lightly. Your laughing ceased when Giorno kneeled down and looked you in the eyes.

“Mrs. Bucciarati. I believe it’s only fair that you can be honest about who you really are.” He said firmly. This angered Bruno greatly. “Giorno, who do you think you are speaking to her that way? Show some damn respect!”

You felt an urge inside of you to calm him down. “Wait, Bruno, it’s okay. I’m sure he didn’t mean any harm.” You then looked over at Giorno. “I don’t know what you’re implying but I can only assume you mean my stand. It’s called Unknown Actor but I can’t tell you what its power is. Only Bucciarati can know.” You explained.

Abbacchio heard this and butted himself in. “You have a stand? This just keeps getting better and better. Did you leave this one out too, Bucciarati?”

Bruno opened his mouth to speak but you spoke first. “He didn’t know I had one either. I had only just told him. Forgive me for hiding things.” You said but your tone was sad.

Giorno could tell that Abbacchio was just fishing for things to be angry over. What stood out about you so much that he hated?

He just ‘tsk’d and when back to what he was doing with the binoculars.

Giorno also removed himself to see Narancia, Fugo, and now even Abbacchio taking out their anger by kicking the body of the man who attacked everyone.

Now that the two of you were alone, Bruno went back to the one that you knew really well.

“I’m so proud of you. You must’ve been so scared since you were far away from me. I won’t ever let that happen again.” He pressed his forehead to yours once again.

You cupped his face in your hands and made him look at you.

“I was scared. It was dark and I couldn’t move. My stand was the thing that helped me leave but it was like I was in another plane of reality. All my life, I felt like I was depressed. I wanted to die but ever since I came to Italy… ever since I saw you and at that moment I knew I wanted to live.” You felt tears pricking your eyes again but you didn’t hold them back.

Bruno examined your face. It was so beautiful, even when crying. It was like an angel's tears. In this moment he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, nor could he pay attention to anything else around him.

You were speaking words but he couldn’t hear them. He was lost in your eyes.

Then the unexpected happened, he was ripped out of his thoughts by a sweet kiss. You kissed him first.

This was indeed reality for him and when he realized that he didn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss more.

Kissing you was his favorite thing in the world.

[pricechecktranslations]

E.A.T. Prologue infomine

Alright, as before:

Bear in mind this is NOT a translation. This is an infomine. I am sharing only the basic info. There’s a lot about the story in terms of tone and characterization that will be missing until I get to a full translation.

Scene 1

Ron is inside the “fat man’s” room, maintaining a miraculous thing inside it that’s neither lifeless nor alive, and gives off a phosphorescent green light that kills anyone who’s in the room for too long (pretty sure it’s some radioactive material). His job is to maintain it because if the light goes out the theater will crash (it appears to be their source of power), and he’s the only one who can survive being near it, given his curse of always regenerating (note, his flesh is largely destroyed by the radiation when he leave the room but starts growing back within minutes).

Oh, and dead soldiers are now being called “dead servants”.

When Ron is finished with his work he heads out, the theater now silent when it was noisy before. He is greeted by his underling Fry Kitchen, who has the head of a chicken and uses “ssu” in his sentences like Chartette (though in hiragana not katakana—he also uses the more working class personal pronoun of asshi). He cheerfully informs Ron that all the other dead soldiers were killed by a hero troupe who invaded the theater (Ron’s not surprised so I guess this was going on while he was working).

Fry is the weakest of them, but he survived through Lich’s help (Lich is still alive).

Ron goes to talk to Lich, who is outside the theater.

Apparently they are not longer in the world of “Giants battling with beastmen” (I think the world at the end of Heavenly). They’re in a different world now.

Scene 2

A bit of exposition on Ron (wandered the earth for ages, now works for Banica, etc).

The new world they are in has wind, the sky is blue, and the scenery appears little changed from the world they were just in save for that it’s covered in the ruins of a crumbled civilization. It seems barren but there is apparently some life left in it.

They see a black bird flying towards them with a girl riding its back. The bird turns out to be a transformed Lich. They open the front door for him.

The girl said nothing while they spoke, and she has a horn on her forehead.

Scene 3

It’s ambiguous how long it’s been since Heavenly—Ron’s narrative implies it could have been a day or several years.

Ron meets with Lich (now humanoid again) in the main hall, getting him some water. Lich doesn’t need to eat, but he does need water, or his mud body will dry up and become unable to move. Also, he can take moisture from food through his makeshift digestive system, and taste things.

Ron asks about the girl, who is sleeping in a guest room Fry set up. He’s anxious because of what happened with Jarre from the giants world (I guess it was his hero troupe that killed everyone). Lich is unconcerned because he can make them new bodies, but when Ron asks about it he gets a little testy and takes him up to his room.

Inside was a beastman (or rather, demi-human) like Fry, someone covered in white fur with two big ears. It’s the rabbit(bunny?) hero Jarre. asleep/unconscious. Ron’s comments make it sound like Jarre betrayed them at the last minute.

Lich explains that it’s not Jarre’s soul in that body anymore, but Pollo. Cue some exposition on how Arte and Pollo had killed Ron, who used to be human. Lich tells Ron that he failed to account for the fact that the mud he uses to make the bodies only exists in Evillious, and their supply was destroyed during the attack. So Jarre’s body was the only one he could put Pollo in.

The same was true for Fry—he was a beastman from the world they were just in. After the giants killed him, Lich put him back in his original body to make him a dead servant as an experiment.

Lich has done the same with Eater and Arte, who are in the next room, using the bodies of Jarre’s friends. Ron asks about Banica, and Lich decides to take him to the clocktower (the cockpit of the theater) to discuss the matter with Seth.

Scene 4

Some repeat exposition on Seth (he claims he’s Lich’s friend, Lich denies it).

When they get in the cockpit, Seth is there in his mask form (which surprises Ron). Lich explains that while ordinarily they would need lots of people to run the ship, Seth actually built the theater so that it could be operated by him alone if need be. They needed to get him a new body when Jarre killed him, but they didn’t have time or resources to do it, so Lich merged the soul archive housing his spirit data with the ship—Seth is now the theater itself.

Seth asks if Lich will give him one of the beastmen bodies they have in storage now that the danger is over, but Lich refuses, saying he doesn’t have one prepared (Seth accuses him of just being mean). The two of them bicker for a bit, and Ron reflects on how he doesn’t get the relationship between them.

Lich then decides to get to the point, saying their goal of finding new food for Banica has to be put on hold for now.

Scene 5

This is just repeat exposition on Banica and what’s led up to now.

Scene 6

As Lich says, they were all killed off by the beastmen. Jarre sliced Ron down himself (but Ron regenerated). But they were all souls to begin with. As long as the “soul archive” they have in the theater isn’t destroyed, they can be revived again and again. Lich ran out of mud to make bodies with, so he used the beastmen bodies instead. This worked for everyone—except Banica.

Apparently there’s a difference in quality between Banica’s souls and everyone else’s. Lich, Arte, Pollo, Eater, and Seth all have souls closer to gods. Banica’s soul was originally that of a normal human. Her soul had special qualities while she’d contracted with Vlad, but now that he’s escaped and didn’t come with them, her soul is now human again.

There are ways to revive her, but it’s tricky. He could make a body with mud, but they don’t have any. And they can’t go back to Evillious because of “Ma’s Ghost”. That is—when they first started dimension hopping, they had issues and almost crashed. Lich investigated and determined this to be a result of Ma’s Ghost. He’s not entirely sure what’s going on there or what it is exactly, but apparently it tries to destroy anything that attempts to enter the Evillious world.

The other option they have is to find Banica’s alter ego. This is out of Lich’s expertise so Seth offers to take over, but Lich refuses, claiming he’ll be too long-winded and sesquipedalian. The alter ego will probably be different from Banica in every way, but her soul will be of the same quality. And so, there’s a good chance that Banica can use their body.

Lich is certain the girl he brought back is Banica’s alter ego, in this world of “Angels and Demons”. He’s certain because he analyzed the Akashic Record (not sure what he means by that, and Ron doesn’t understand either).

Ron is uncertain if they have the right to kill the girl to bring Banica back. Lich brushes him off, but while Ron accepts that they are “close to gods” and thus the rules don’t apply to them, he’s different. Lich argues with him, but Ron isn’t convinced.

He’d already become an undead when Banica contracted, so he couldn’t stop her from falling to evil. Still, he wants to avoid the same thing happening again.

Back before he joined her, he had the option of going through the gate to be reincarnated. But he doesn’t know if his curse would be lifted if he went through. Some of the people who went through were once his family, but he feels like it’s been too long now (and their memories were erased upon reincarnating anyway).

Ron argues that he knows the suffering of never being able to die. He argues about that with Lich (whether it’s the right thing, to bring Banica back to life or not), when Seth interjects that it’s best to ask the person they’re talking about.

He’s put Banica in a red cat body, implied to be a replica of the one he made for Irina, until they can get her in her alter ego’s body. Ron is happy she simply has a body at all, but she’s far from pleased with it (also this body requires moisture to function properly, so we can assume that’s why Irina was able to drink milk as well).

Banica ponders taking her alter ego’s body, not minding her looks but finding her blindness to be an issue.

Lich turns on a monitor in the cockpit that shows a map of the world they’re in, explaining it’s one of the Third Period’s parallel worlds, and is very physically similar to it. The race that rules it (or used to) are demons—though he clarifies they are not like the demons of Evillious, and are more just a race that is called demons. A race called angels fought against them, though they’ve either died out or they’ve gone behind the theater’s reach. He only knows they’re humanoids with wings on their backs because the girl (Baamu Kuuren —Berm? Balm? Barm? Kulen? I don’t know) mistook him for one.

Lich also explains he can turn into a bird partially as a result of running an experiment on himself when putting the others in beastmen bodies to make sure that there wouldn’t be any rejections (not totally sure I’ve understood that correctly).

Banica notes that if the girl is a demon, and she thought he was an angel, it’s weird that she trusted him. Lich chalks it up to her being helpless and seeking salvation, and also his natural charisma. –Before revealing he’s joking and that he expects her to try and stab him in the back.

Balm is the imperial princess of the (Puraashino) Empire that ruled the demons. She is the only member of her family who survived the war with the angels, and it was apparently an angel that burned her eyes.

Lich asks for permission to kill her so they can use it as Banica’s body (note—Banica occasionally claws Lich’s face during this scene), but Banica wants him to fix the issue with her eyes first. Lich and Seth argue a little—Lich plans to use one of the beastmen bodies as material for the eyes, but Seth argues that’s a bad idea because they’re from another dimension.

Lich leaves to begin on his work. Ron asks Banica if she’s really going to steal that girl’s body, and she asks him what he would do if he found his alter ego. He can’t answer.

Scene 7

As Seth foretold, Lich can’t fix the eye problem using the beastmen bodies even after several days.

Ron is setting out milk for Banica in the main room, and Fry is bemoaning what a brat Balm is. She’s plucked the feathers on his arm. He also says something about her horn? (I think that it has some kind of tactile sense of things, despite her being blind?)

As Banica is musing over putting the girl to work, Arte and Pollo (both bunny beastmen) come in, followed by Eater, now an enormous Asian black bear, carrying lumber. As they get to work, Banica explains to Ron that she’s been thinking since the whole thing with Jarre happened. Now that she’s lost her demon powers, she shouldn’t be picking fights with people from other dimensions willy-nilly like that. So she’s converting the main hall into a restaurant (it’s not like Evils Theater 2 has a theater room anyway), I guess to better fit in with the other worlds they go to. Ron laughs because this is very like her.

Ron wonders if she’ll have Balm cook, since Banica only has two at her disposal (Eater and Arte) and they both have other duties as well. Banica is confident that Balm can cook, being another version of herself. And, she’ll have a mentor.

At that, she summons a dog beastman wearing a white chef’s hat. She calls him Mister Dog, and tells him to teach Balm how to cook. He agrees and leaves, and when Ron asks where he came from, Banica says that he’s always been here (it’s Carlos, guys).

There’s a bit of thought on why Ron accompanied Banica this time, that it’s not entirely out of loyalty. When he saw her again she greeted him as though the last few hundred years had never happened and told him all about her travel plans. He’d never traveled with her before, as he had to watch the house. It actually made him slightly envious whenever she would come home and tell him about it.

They had finished talking, and to sum up the convo basically he decided to go on the journey with her he couldn’t do all those centuries ago. Though he’s still not sure entirely why even now.

[dholwrites]

Little Heart

Notes: Moments between the Crystal Exarch and his son while the Warrior is away. Playing dress-up, eating meals, and telling bed time stories. For @blood--hunter and written for pre 5.3 patch! Relationship: G’raha Tia / Unnamed Warrior of Light Rating: G - General. (Very high fluff content) 

Inspiration link Ao3 Link

“Do you have everything you need? Food, clothes, weapon?” G’raha shifts back and forth on his feet, eyes following the Warrior of Light. His Warrior of Light. The thought of it still sends butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. All his fussing is easily hushed with a simple ‘yes,’ your face twisted to barely suppress your smile at his fretting. You reach out to pet the child nestled to his chest, tiny kitten ears poking out of the hood of his onesie and wiggling constantly as his hands grasp at the decorations on his father’s robes.

You have left them both alone before; usually leaving to help the newly inspired Warriors of Light, or to the Source to check on the Scions. However, those trips were usually a day at most. This is the first time you have had to leave for a week, and it’s a test of how well everyone can handle the situation. Problems of the Source wait for no one, not even the Warrior of Light.

“Wey,” G’raha whispers, breaking into a smile when he gets his son’s attention. Wey’s innocent red eyes look back and forth between his parents, trying to figure out what is happening. “Do you want to say ‘See you soon’?” With an eager nod from him, G’raha easily sets the child on his feet and watches as he waddles up to you.

“Byebye, I love you.” His little voice barely reaches your ears as he squeezes you as hard as he can, trying to prevent you from leaving. G’wey then mashes the bottom half of his face against your cheek for a ‘kiss’ and waits for you to do the same. The pout on his face lightens when you press your lips to his chubby cheeks, giggling when your hair tickles his face.

G’raha smiles at the scene, wishing that he could take a picture and cherish the moment for the rest of his life. He steps up to press his own kiss onto your waiting lips, chest to chest, his hand reaching out to grip your shirt and his tail unconsciously wrapping itself around your leg. And just like that, you step through the portal and vanish.

  Day 1

It’s the first breakfast without you there, and G’wey is already searching for you. The kitten has made a point to ignore the breakfast sitting in front of him; instead, he kicks his legs impatiently and attempts to look into the entryway to see if he could catch a peek of you coming down the hall. 

“Where did they go?” G’wey looks up at his father from a high chair, clearly confused about why you haven’t left your room yet. He manages to wiggle himself from the confines of his chair; just as he stands on his seat, his balance starts to slip and he nearly topples over before G’raha catches him with a wave of magic. Unfazed, the child continues to grasp at the air for answers. “Dada? Where are they? They were here yesterday.” 

G’raha couldn’t help but wonder if this is how he looked when he was still a baby, a red-haired kit with mismatched eyes asking every question under the sun. “They left yesterday, remember? So we’ll have to wait.” G’raha crouches down to give his beloved son a kiss on the top of his head. Gears turn in his mind on how to explain this issue - and a quick glance at the calendar reminds him of how long it will be before you come back - before his attention is brought back to the squirming child. “Do you remember your numbers, Wey?”

“Yes, Dada!” The kit raises his hands and wiggles all his fingers before counting them. “One, two, tree, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten!”  

G’raha couldn’t help but feel proud when G’wey didn’t miss a single number. He reaches out and cups his hands to curl around the fingers. “They will be back in five breakfast, you will have to be a little patient, okay?” 

“But that’s a really long time.”

“I know, but it’s going to be worth it. They might bring back a present.” The child instantly perks up at the mention of a new toy, eagerly nodding his head as G’raha picks up the bowl of cut chicken and spoons a small portion. He holds it up to G’wey’s mouth, urging him to take the bite. “Since they are away right now, we can also plan what we can do when they come back.”

“Then…” He hurries to eat the food, red eyes shining like jewels, it takes him a moment to find the right words to say what is on his mind. “Can I have a second breakfast? Then we will have… five more breakfasts before they come home... right?”

G’raha nearly keeled over at the suggestion, he let go of G’wey to cover the wide smile spread across his face. A burst of laughter tickles his throat while his heart flutters like a bird in his chest. Is it possible to love his son any more than he does now? 

  Day 3

“How about this one?” G’raha holds up another onesie. It was a present, from Dulia Chai and Chai Nuzz after they found out that the famed Exarch and Warrior of Light had a child. The onesie is fashioned into his own robed attire with the softest material available, with the metal details replaced with durable wooden ones for him to play with. G’wey lets out a happy squeal at the sight of it, running over and nearly tripping over his own feet in his hurry. 

He had already spent a better part of the day changing his son from one onesie into another. Several of them were fashioned after outfits of their Warrior; a pure white attire with a matching cane, loose red far eastern robes with a wooden sword to match, and even a set of black robes with a pile of cards for him to play with. Each outfit is lovingly recreated with small alterations to make it safe. 

He helps G’wey into this new outfit, even pulling the hood up to hide his bright red hair for good measure. The light laughter that erupts is infectious, G’raha unable to stop himself from letting out a chuckle as he pats his head.

“I look like you now!” The mi’kitten declares after he picks up a toy version of his staff. The toy is barely a forearm’s length, and G’wey waves it around like a wand while G’raha cleans up the mess they’ve made. The sight is almost too adorable to bear. 

The hood has started to slip off, with one side barely hanging on by an ear while the other wiggles free from the hem. The long sleeves that replaced his armbands were long enough to cover everything but his fingers, and he had already rolled them up to properly grip the staff. The cut of the skirt is high enough to prevent him from tripping on it and they even cut a hole for the tail to poke out, the tuft wiggling without restraint. 

Could his son be any cuter?

  Day 5

“Crystal Exarch, sir!”

A Crystarium guard hurried over to him with a report from Lyna. There were reports of trade routes coming under attack, but nothing that he had never handled before. With the Lightwardens gone, the remaining sineaters have begun to attack recklessly, endangering travelers. Even the local wildlife has found it easier to pick off unsuspecting merchants when they’re too worried about other threats. 

With his father distracted, G’wey moves to stand in front of his growing crowd of friends. He pulls the hood over his head and puffs out his chest, even tapping the end of the toy onto the ground twice as if to command them. Unknownst to him, the passing adults had taken notice of the tiny Exarch and even started to greet him as such. By the time G’raha finally turned his attention back to G’wey, he was immersed in a game of pretend. 

“Begone, foul sin eater! I am the Crystal Exarch and the Crystarium is under my protection!” G’wey declares, brandishing his staff while a few of ‘civilians’ hide behind him. An elezen child prowls towards him on his tiptoes, hands reaching out to grab his costume. 

“I am the greatest Sineater! And there is nothing you can do to stop me from eating everyone!” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll summon heroes to come and save us!” G’wey steps up before G’raha had the chance to move from the sidelines. He swings his staff, careful not to hit anyone before slamming the end onto the ground. “Champions heed my call!”

With those words, G’raha’s face grows a shade closer to his hair. A mix of embarrassment and pride was enough for him to miss the other children running in to join the scene. The grin that broke out on his face could be seen a mile away. There’s no way, how could he have known those words? Unless… someone had told him the story of what happened down in the ruined city beneath the sea. But there is only a small handful that would know, and he’s yet to ask any of the Scions to babysit. That would leave...

His Warrior?

  Day 6

“Wey, you need to eat your veggies.” He had already tried to combine different types of vegetables into soups and cream, attempted to dress them up to make them more appealing, and even hid them into meatballs. Most of his attempts have been successful, but he really wished to nurture a love for at least some vegetables. He’d find another way to convince G’wey to eat more later. Right now, his main concern is to get him to eat at least half of the popoto salad that he had prepared. “Just try to finish as much as you like, okay?” 

G���wey looked reluctantly at the salad sitting in front of him before crossing his arms and turning the other way. “I don’t want to! I hate vegetables. I’m a big kid now, so I don’t need to eat them.”

G’raha lets out a defeated sigh, scratching his head over what to do in this situation. He picked up a small spoonful of the salad and held it up to G’wey’s mouth, only for the mi’kitten to turn his entire body to move away from the food. Just as he was about to give up, an idea occurred to him. 

“Wey~” He coos softly as he casts a spell on himself. Within a blink of an eye, he’s gone. The Exarch had to stop the laughter creeping up his throat as he watched G’wey frantically look around the room to spot him in this sudden game of hide and seek. 

G’raha nudged the spoon into his mouth, the magic dispelling only when G’wey started to eat. He watches as his red eyes light up the more he chews his food, his tail wagging with uncontainable excitement. A sign of relief escapes G’raha’s lips as he uses his free hand to brush aside some of his hair. 

“It’s good for you to eat them even if you’re a big boy now.” G’raha sets the spoon back into his small hands before helping him eat another mouthful. This time the child is more than eager to inhale the salad, his tiny ears wiggling in delight at every bite. He reaches out to pat the child on the back, rubbing small soothing circles to prevent him from choking on himself. “Even Lyna still eats her vegetables. She eats both her meat and carrots everyday to be the captain of the guard.” 

“T-then I’ll eat them!” G’wey declared, looking as intimidating as one could be with half of his face covered in eggs and mashed popotoes. “I’ll eat them so that I can be strong enough to protect everyone!”

  Day 7

“Dada?” G’wey quietly asks as he is tucked into bed with a plushie next to him. The child kicks at the blanket to get his attention, staring up at him with bright and hopeful eyes. “Can you tell me a bedtime story?” 

“Why, I never thought you would ask, Wey.” G’raha seats himself on the edge of the bed, leaning against the headrest. Tomes from the bookshelf gently glide across the room to hover before G’wey, who still marvels at the magic as if he’s seeing it for the first time. “What story do you want to hear about tonight?” 

“Anything! All the stories you tell are good.” G’raha smiles as he decides to untuck some of the blanket to make himself comfortable beside his son. All but one book return to their rightful place, the last book’s magic pouring out into the room as the pages flip open. Parts of the room transform into a scenic mountain range with a snowy landscape, and the center sits the step towards the bridge that leads to the kingdom. The dark spiralling towers stand cold and alone as snow descends from the skies.

It’s a familiar sight to him now. Especially as he’s mastered the art of storytelling over the years; starting with Lyna, then the other children of the Crystarium, and finally presenting the polished experience to G’wey. He always enjoyed telling stories of everything that his warrier have done as the Warrior of Light. “Once upon a time, in a world different from ours, there was a kingdom that was friends with dragons. They lived in harmony, but one day, the knights of the kingdom decided to betray them and steal the dragons’ power.” 

The scene shifts as he continues the tale, moving from the kingdom to a group of knights celebrating their victory over a still dragon. With G’wey tucked into his arms, G’raha continues his story and paints a tale of the Dragonsong War; of the struggle that the hero has gone through, the triumphs that they have achieved, and the people that once stood beside them. 

As the story draws to a close, the Warrior of Light has defeated Nidhogg and saved their friend. The yawn that G’wey let out nearly stopped him in his tracks. The mi’kitten snuggles to his chest with tiny red eyes that he can barely keep open. With a wave of his hand, the magic is dispelled and the book is set on the nightstand beside the bed. The warm glow illuminating the room from the night lamp hanging from the wall, G’raha could hear and feel the loud purr rumbling from the kitten. 

“Da? Will I ever be able to do magic like you?” 

“Of course you can, G’wey.” G’raha answers right away, though G’wey didn’t stay awake long enough to hear the answer to his question. He pulls the sheets up to the child’s chin as he continues, “You can learn magic or how to use a sword. Whatever you do, as long as you’re safe, I will be there to support you.”

G’raha starts to hum under his breath an old lullaby that once cradled him into sweet dreams. Though a lot of the words have become muddled from his memory, he can feel it ease all the stress of the day off his shoulders. Beside one of his most precious treasures, G’raha slips into a peaceful rest, knowing that in the morning his family will be whole again. 

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: Lucifer/Satan

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

Please allow me to introduce this villain. He’s a man of wealth and taste...

Satan, or Lucifer, or whatever of the hundreds of names across multiple religions, folk tales, urban legends, movies, books, songs, video games, and more that you choose to call him, is without a doubt the biggest bad of them all. He is not just a villain; he is the villain, the bad guy your other bad guys answer to, the lord of Hell. If there’s a bad deed, he’s done it, if there’s a problem, he’s behind it. There’s nothing beneath him, and that’s not just because he’s at the very bottom of Hell. He is the root cause of all the misery in the entire world.

And if we’re talking about Satan, we gotta talk about Lucifer too. They weren’t always supposed to be one and the same, but over centuries of artistic depictions and reimaginings they’ve been conflated into one being, a being that is a lot more layered and interesting than just a simple adversary for the good to overcome when handled properly.

Motivation/Goals: Look, it’s Satan. His main goal is to be as evil as possible, do bad things, cause mischief and mayhem. Rarely does anything good come from Satan being around. If he is one and the same as Lucifer, expect there to be some sort of plot about him rebelling against God, as according to modern interpretations Lucifer fought against God in battle and was then cast out, falling from grace like lightning. When the Lucifer persona is front and center, raging against the heavens tends to be a big part of his schemes, but when the big red devil persona is out and about, expect temptations to sin, birthing the Antichrist, or tempting people to sell their souls.

Performance: Satan has been portrayed by far too many people over the years to even consider keeping count of, though some notable performances of the character or at least characters who are clearly meant to be Satan include the nuanced anti-villain take of the character Viggo Mortensen portrayed in The Prophecy; the sympathetic homosexual man portrayed by Trey Parker in South Park and its film; the hard-rocking badass Dave Grohl portrayed in Tencaious D’s movie; Robin Hughes as a sneaky, double-crossing bastard in “The Howling Man” episode of The Twilight Zone; the big red devil from Legend known as Darkness, played by Tim Curry; the shapeshifting angel named Satan from The Adventures of Mark Train who will make you crap your pants; and while not portrayed by anyone due to being entirely voiceless, Chernabog from Disney’s Fantasia is definitely noteworthy in regards to cinematic depictions of the devil.

Final Thoughts & Score: Satan is a villain whose sheer scope dwarfs almost every other villain in history. It’s not even remotely close, either; Satan pops up in stories all around the world, is the greater-scope villain of most varieties of three major religions, and his very name is shorthand for “really, really evil.” Every other villain I have ever discussed and reviewed wishes they could be a byword for being bad to the bone. Even Dracula, one of the single most important villains in fiction, looks puny in comparison to Satans villainous accomplishments.

Satan in old religious texts tended to be an utterly horrifying force of nature, until Medieval times began portray him as a dopey demon trying to tempt the faithful (and failing). Folklore and media have gone back and forth, portraying both in equal measure – you have the desperate, fiddle-playing devil from “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” and the unseen, unfathomable Satan who may or may not exist in the Marvel comics universe who other demons live in fear of the return of. Satan is just a very interesting and malleable antagonist, one who is defined just enough that he can make a massive, formidable force while still being enough of a blank slate that you can project any sort of personality traits onto him to build an intriguing foe.

One of the most famous examples of this in action is the common depiction of Satan as the king of hell. This doesn’t really have much basis in religion; he’s as much a prisoner as anyone else, though considering how impressive a prisoner he is, he’d be like the big guy at the top of the pecking order in any jail for sure. But still, the idea of Satan as the ruler of hell was clearly conceived by someone and proved such an intriguing concept that so many decided to run with it.

I think that’s what truly makes Satan such an interesting villain, in that he’s almost a community-built antagonist. People over the ages have added so much lore, personality, and power to him that is only vaguely alluded to in old religions to the point where they have all become commonplace in depictions of the big guy, and there really isn’t any other villain to have quite this magnitude on culture as a whole. It shouldn’t be any shock that Satan is an 11/10; rating him any lower would be a heinous crime only he is capable of.

But see, the true sign of how amazing he is is the sheer number of ways one can interpret him. You have versions that are just vague embodiments of all that is bad and unholy, such as Chernabog from Fantasia, you have more nuanced portrayals like the one Viggo Mortensen played in The Prophecy, you have outright sympathetic ones like the one from South Park… Satan is just a villain who can be reshaped and reworked as a creator sees fit and molded into something that fits the narrative they want. I guess what I’m trying to say is that not only is Lucifer/Satan one of the greatest villains of all, he’s also one of the single greatest characters of all time.  

Now, there are far too many depictions of Satan for me to have seen them all, but I have seen quite a lot. Here’s how Old Scratch has fared over the millennia in media of various forms, though keep in mind this is by no means a comprehensive or exhaustive lsit:

“The Devil Went Down to Georgia” Devil: 

I think this is one of my favorite devils in any fiction ever, simply because of what a good sport he is. Like, there is really no denying that Johnny’s stupid little fiddle ditty about chickens or whatever sucks major ass, and yet Satan (who had moments before summoned up demonic hordes to rip out some Doom-esque metal for the contest) gave him the win and the golden fiddle. What a gracious guy! He’s a 9/10 for sure, though I still wish we knew how his rematch ended…

Chernabog: 

Chernabog technically doesn’t do anything evil, and he never says a word, and yet everything about him is framed as inherently sinister. It’s really no wonder Chernabog has become one of the most famous and beloved parts of Fantasia alongside Yen Sid and Sorcerer Mickey; he’s infinitely memorable, and really, how can he not be? He’s the devil in a Disney film, not played for laughs and instead made as nightmarishly terrifying as an ancient demon god should be. Everything about him oozes style, and every movement and gesture begets a personality that goes beyond words. Chernabog doesn’t need to speak to tell you that he is evil incarnate; you just know, on sight, that he is up to no good.

Quite frankly, the implications of Chernabog’s existence in the Disney canon are rather terrifying. Is he the one Maleficent called upon for power? Is he the one all the villains answer to? Do you think Frollo saw him after God smote him? And what exactly did he gain by attacking Sora at the end of Kingdom Hearts? All I know for sure is that Chernabog is a 10/10.

Lucifer (The Prophecy): 

Viggo Mortensen has limited screentime, but in that time he manages to be incredibly creepy, misanthropic… and yet, also, on the side of good. Of course, he’s doing it entirely for self-serving reasons (he wants humanity around so he can make them suffer), but credit where credit is due. The man manages to steal a scene from under Christopher Walken, I think that’s worth a 10/10.

Satan (South Park): 

Portraying Satan as a sympathetic gay man was a pretty bold choice, and while he certainly does fall into some stereotypes, he’s not really painted as bad or morally wrong for being gay, and ends up more often than not being a good (if sometimes misguided) guy who just wants to live his life. Plus he gets a pretty sweet villain song, though technically it’s more of an “I want” song than anything. Ah well, a solid 8/10 for him is good.

Satan (Tenacious D):

It’s Dave Grohl as Satan competing in a rock-off against JB and KG. Literally everything about this is perfect, even if he’s only in the one scene. 10/10 for sure.

Robot Devil:

Futurama’s take on the devil is pretty hilarious and hammy, but then Futurama was always pretty on point. He’s a solid 8/10, because much like South Park’s devil he gets a fun little villain song with a guest apearance by the Beastie Boys, not to mention his numerous scams like when he stole Fry’s hands. He’s just a fun, hilarious asshole.

The Howling Man: 

The Twilight Zone has many iconic episodes, and this one is absolutely one of them. While the devil is the big twist, that scene of him transforming as he walks between the pillars is absolutely iconic, and was even used by real-life villain Kevin Spacey in the big reveal of The Usual Suspects. This one is a 9/10 for sure, especially given the ending that implies this will all happen again (as per usual with the show).

The Darkness:

While he’s more devil-adjacent than anything and is more likely to be the son of Satan rather than the actual man himself, it’s hard not to give a shout-out to the big, buff demon played by Tim Curry in some of the most fantastic prosthetics and makeup you will ever see. He gets a 9/10 for the design alone, the facty he’s Tim Curry is icing on the cake.

[stormikins]

Can we get a snippet/something about Jenn, kal and prime?

Boy can you! So the characters are Jenn (not to be confused with my Shepard Jenn, in this case Jenn is short for Jennica and a different character although she is an N7), Kal'Reegar (cause i love the man) and a Geth Prime named 9273 or just Prime (cause geth are awesome). They team up with a hand full of other aliens during me3 although the story focuses mainly about the three's relationship

This is a just after Prime and Jenn's first meeting when they're trying to get back to Jenn's squad:

Jenn groans as she sits down against the wall. She sounds like an old person. Ripping open her nutrient package, looks like its chicken, carrots, and peas. Fine dining tonight. Better than meatloaf. She’s halfway through the package when Prime turns to her.

“Frizten-Operative,” it calls. She looks up at it.

“Yeah?” She asks around her mouthful of food.

“We have reached a consensus. We will use they/them pronouns.”

Jenn swallows. “Alright, thanks for letting me know.” She looks back down at her package. Glancing back up at Prime, it- they’re still staring at her. “Something else?”

“You are accepting of us.”

“As opposed to ditching you in hostile territory?” She swallows more goop down.

“Most organics fear us. Or hate us. They attack.” Jenn tilts her head in acceptance. Not like they’re wrong.

“Look, you saved my ass back there, that means something. Especially now. Plus, you don’t need food or sleep, you don’t get exhausted. As far as I know you don’t feel fear. You’re the perfect soldier.” She still hasn’t gotten around to asking what ‘true AI’ entails, but they’ve been rather busy.

“Yes.” They almost sound… contemplative. She eats some more. It’s almost gone. Pity, she was just starting to enjoy it.

Is Prime enjoying themselves? Enjoying what it means to be sentient? To be a machine? Must be weird, being perfect. Relatively speaking. Do they think that they weren’t perfect enough for the Quarians? That maybe if they were perfect the whole war wouldn’t have happened? That millions wouldn’t have died? For both sides. Jenn eats the last of her food.

Well, she thinks, gaze traveling up Prime’s still form, no time like the present. Unless she’s introducing questions they hadn’t thought of before. But don’t computers think through every possibility? Also- if the war hadn't happened, they would still be serving the Quarians and if they still served the Quarians, that means they didn’t gain sentience. So maybe it is better that they started to gain sentience. So, the war was needed?

Jenn groans, thunks her head against the wall, dropping her package between her knees. She’s gonna get a headache. Prime turns to her in silent question. Fuck it.

“Can you tell me more about the reaper code?”

[kinetic-elaboration]

September 1: 3x06 Spectre of the Gun

Okay so, it might be a little early to declare myself a S3 apologist, since there are still a lot of eps I’ve never seen, but I feel like I’m pretty close..

This ep was so good!! Honestly I think it’s one of my faves. And perfect to usher in Spooky Season.

Honestly, this show really is my happy place. Just all the characters together on the bridge, on some kinda adventure, looking at weird space buoys and investigating stuff.

Again, this buoy looks like a Windows 98 screensaver.

Kirk keeps referring to Spock as “Science Officer.” Is he mad at him? Full of some particularly intense longing that requires him to put extra distance between them?

Excuse me, you address US as aliens? YOU’RE the aliens.

Hmmm, so it seems they’re not friendly.

It’s addressing them in different languages!!! I love it. Love the reminder that Uhura’s first language is not English,also.

“True telepaths are dangerous.” As opposed to fake telepaths like Vulcans lol?

The Melkotians withdrew immediately. They invented space travel, they saw space, and they said “not for us” and they turned around and left. McCoy would like them; they’d have a lot to gripe about together.

The welcome mat is NOT out.

“Unlike Mr. Scott’s transporter, this unit is not functioning.”

It legit looked like Spock put his hand on Kirk’s back there. Like he clearly raises it, but not far enough to be seen above Kirk, so like.. what was the point? Where did it go?

LEE CRONIN--oh no, flashbacks lol.

“We come in peace”--immediately pulls out gun.

I should have watched this when writing my Western fic.

Just bits and pieces of a Western town... and a completely red sky...

The guns are “crude but dangerous.” If only Sulu were here; he’d love this.

An announcement with a specific time and place on it--that’s a very precise detail to just pull from their minds. Must have come from Kirk’s, that nerd. Maybe Spock. But probably Kirk.

“Because my ancestors pioneered the American frontier.” I mean did they really get to the frontier? Or just... the Midwest?

Maybe it’s actually because he’s a cowboy at heart?

Aliens using his own ancestral sins as the pattern for his own death for breaking their law IS a great (possibly partially unintended) idea. Oh also, if they think that Kirk and co. are here to ‘tame’ or colonize them, then the Western setting makes even more sense--you’re no different from your ancestors, you came somewhere new and brought lawlessness and violence and death, but not this time!

Can you believe Kirk knows all of these details about the OK Corral? NERD.

Spock is so proud of himself for knowing the phrase “had it out.” Look, I used slang correctly!

These are some creative aliens.

“We know death is real here.” Or is it? They’re literally telepaths guys.

Hmmm, this building doesn’t need a roof I think. - The aliens probably

Can’t believe Scotty thinks his usual is his actual usual lol. You’re going to drink bourbon and like it!

Kirk and Spock look so good together.

They’re obviously Chekov’s disapproving parents.

“The day is still young, Ensign.” I don’t remember the exact context of this but Spock is SO judgmental.

What is Kirk doing? This guy is a hallucination; he won’t be convinced by touching some cloth. There’s nothing to convince! He’s only a Concept.

“Have you seen clothes like this?” / “Yes.” / “Where?” / “On the Claytons!” Comedy gold.

Kirk really thinks he can charm his way out of anything. Hmmm, maybe if I just talk nicely to the Earps, they won’t kill us.

“In small amounts, it [bourbon] was considered medicinal.” Lol.

Scotty is becoming a bourbon guy!

“Mr. Chekov is inVOLVed” lol. Is that what the kids are calling it these days?

“A lot of people and things have tried to kill me.” No need to brag.

THAT’S how you make a city limits sign. Put a dead animal skull on top. I live quite close to a city limits sign and I think it could use a cow skull.

Western Cossacks!!

Poisonous snakes and cactus plants. That really distills the Aesthetic down to its core.

This is a good Kirk episode. He’s really being a good Captain: coming up with different ideas, being creative, pushing his crew to brainstorm.

Bones and his tranqs again.

Bones meets his old nemesis: Old Timey Medicine.

Why was Doc Holiday just...chilling in his own dentist chair? (My mom suggested: power nap. Let’s go with that. Power nap + ability for optimally dramatic entrance.)

Also I can’t believe McCoy just goes into this guy’s practice and starts helping himself to all the serious drugs.

Chekov definitely isn’t the marrying kind.

RIP Chekov.

Bones does not sound very sympathetic here. Jim, get over it, he just died, whatever.

And then two seconds later he turns around and tells Spock he’s not sad enough! You can’t win.

“We all knew the risk when we joined the service.”

“My feelings are not a subject for discussion.” !!!!!!! This line!!

“You worked closely with him.” Yes! Chekov is his protege!

“Bones, Scotty, stop bullying Spock.” <-- not an actual quote but it might as well be.

If this were AOS, Spock would already be choking Bones out.

Whoops, no one told Chekov he wasn’t supposed to die!

“Let’s organize! Let’s form an anti-Earp union!”

“I can’t kill them!” he says in a mad rage.

I mean, it is important, though. That’s not what he does.

Kirk is /disgusted/ by lawlessness and frontier justice. What a Rebel TM.

I feel like Bones was waiting for the gotcha moment when Spock compliments him. “Saying nice things about me? That’s not how this relationship works!”

“Nothing can go wrong.” / “Up to now, everything has gone wrong.” He has a point.

That pause before Spock admitted it hasn’t been tested lol--they don’t want to admit it.

“[The bourbon’s] for the pain.” / “But this is painless.” / “You should have told me that before.” The unexpected comedy stylings of Scotty and Spock.

It doesn’t work--guess Spock’s got to take back that compliment now.

“Captain, you don’t understand--they’ve been telepaths the whole time which we already knew!”

“We’re not going to move from the spot.” * is immediately in a different spot * Well I mean at least he’s trying. He’s doing his best!

Love the OK Corral sign also. Weirdly creepy. With its accompanying horse.

Spock doesn’t have any hips for the holster to rest on.

“What did Chekov die of?” / “A piece of lead in his body.” That would do it.

If the tranquilizer should have been effective, does that mean Scotty is actually passed out right now?

Honestly, this is all so spooky. TRUE Western Horror Ghost Vibes.

Also very trippy. If you don’t believe it... it’s not real... some kinda weird chicken and the egg argument regarding our belief in the truth of physical laws idk but it sounds good. Spock brings it home.

Even with the wind whipping around him, Kirk is SO in love. His absolutely adoring expression... So soft...

“Very well, Sir, I’ll meld with you again. Not that I particularly want to. It will be a sacrifice. But I’ll manage. Even though you’re such a dynamic individual haha ha I’m fine I’m cool.”

I feel like Scotty is NOT into the mind meld. He looks terrified. Maybe he should have saved the bourbon for this occasion.

I know the mind meld is supposed to be a replacement for on screen hypnotism...but is this not hypnotism? Like even more than past uses? In this case, Spock is leaving them with suggestions that he wants to continue AFTER the meld, as opposed to, like, efficiently sharing information or giving immediate suggestions. And the scenes themselves are very creepy and...hypnotic.

Kirk’s patented move: WHOLE BODY ATTACK.

Well, we wrapped that up right quick.

Did they... never actually leave the bridge? Or even navigate past the buoy? This actually brings up a lot of questions as to when the aliens started the hallucinations, what their bodies looked like to the rest of the crew, and how they woke up--since there’s obviously been a bit of a time skip, as Bones is already examining Chekov.

Lol at Chekov, saved by horniness. “Nothing but the girl was real to him.”

“A vast alliance of fellow creatures who all believe in the same thing...”

Kirk’s vision of the utopian future is so powerful, he’s effectively gotten the welcome mat put back out.

A personal question? Kirk is intrigued.

Ah, but it’s just another excuse for Spock to be a hypocrite--how did humans survive? How did VULCANS survive? And for the show to remind us of its utopian vision of the future... we will move past violence, we will prove ourselves attractive to and worth of new alien friends.

Then McCoy walks out so Kirk and Spock can have their Moment. He undoubtedly knows what’s up.

So this ep was shown one day before the anniversary of the shootout at the OK Corral AND on Halloween week. It is very much a spooky season episode. So surreal and strange. Ghostly.

I know using sets rather than on location shoots, and not even building whole sets, was a budgetary issue but tbqh I think it worked in the ep’s favor. It added to the alien feeling of it and was an accidentally creative way of showing that these images were pulled from Kirk’s mind.

This felt like a very Classic S1-ish ep to me. I think it’s because Kirk was foregrounded as the Captain/hero and we get to see not just his intelligence and creativity and leadership but also his compassion and his moral core. He IS the values of the series, personified, and that was clear here.

But we also got to see lots of him and Spock, casually working as a pair, and the use of the rest of the landing party crew was very deft also. I loved that there was time to mock Chekov’s horniness, to talk about Spock and Chekov’s professional relationship, to joke around with Scotty, to show more of the Spock and Bones dynamic.

Again, great sci fi concept. I think this would have been another possible inspo for my Pirate AU if I’d seen it in time (although I think I picked a good mission-concept ultimately). I’m fascinated by the Melkotians: who are they? What do they really look like? Do they communicate any other way but telepathically? Are they corporeal? What is their planet like? And most importantly, what experience lead them to be so isolationist? They specifically refer to the aliens as “disease” coming into their home. And it’s when Kirk shows himself to be fundamentally nonviolent even in the face of his own death, they let the Enterprise through.

Basically, I always enjoy hints of alien societies that bring up more questions for me than answers. I love speculating about it.

The next two eps I’ve seen and remember well and I know they’re classics. I’m really looking forward to them!

[danadeservesadrink]

Do You Believe in Fate Chapter 4

So How’d It Go? Read on AO3 here

Angst warning!! This is an important chapter but damn was it hard to write! Tagging @today-in-fic . Enjoy and please let me know your thoughts!

“Dana Scully speaking”

“So how’d it go?”

“You know hello would have been nice Missy”

“Tell me! You can’t just leave the house on Thursday with that dress in your suitcase and expect me to not want details?”

“Did you go through my luggage?”

“I was looking for a top. But who was the guy? Was it David from work? Or Mark from that bar that one time?”

“And why should I tell you?”

“Dana this is the first time you’ve gone out in a year-”

“10 months.”

“Whatever. I just want to know who the lucky guy is.”

“His name is Mulder…”

“Mulder?”

“It’s his last name. He doesn’t like his first.”

“Mysterious. I like it. Go on.”

“He’s living in my old apartment”

“Wow Danes that seriously some rom com shit”

“I know, I know. He’s cute. Tall, far too confident, obviously brilliant…”

“Sounds like you’re already in love”

“But I don’t think it’s going to work out.”

“What, why? It was only the first date what could he have possibly done wrong”

“He works at the FBI. On unexplained cases of the supernatural variety. X files he called them.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t know if I can see him again.”

“Does he know?”

“Did I tell him on our first and probably only date that if he looks hard enough he likely has a file in his office with my name in it? No, he doesn’t know.”

“Do you think he’s doing an undercover investigation on you?”

“Gee thanks Mis, because the only reason a guy would be interested in me would be because he’s on a secret case”

“I’m not saying that! But don’t you think it’s a little weird that the minute you moved out of your old apartment an FBI agent investigating the paranormal moves in to take your place?”

“I don’t know Missy. I don’t know, it's just too much to think about. I’m going to go to bed now.”

“Ok. You’re coming home on Monday right?”

“Yea. I’ll see you then.”

“Goodnight Danes.”

“Night Missy.”

It was her luck that something like this would happen. Hadn’t she already been through enough? She left Stanford with a medical degree and all the freedom in the world, moved to her favorite city, and started saving lives. She made the world a better place, worked her ass off day in and day out to help children, saving God’s little angels, and how does He repay her? By ripping her life into pieces and throwing them into the trash, and then lighting the trash can on fire. So she moves back home, stays with her family. She recovers, she fights to get the life she had back, and she finally develops some sense of normalcy, even getting confident enough to go back out with a guy. And he’s a fucking alien investigator at the FBI. Like she hadn’t dealt with enough G-men already. Now this man who had somehow captivated her mind for the last month was just another threat. And she really was so naive as to believe the world would throw a perfectly good man in her lap.

She certainly hadn’t been looking. When he had first called her all she wanted was for him to leave her alone. She didn’t trust men anymore, and certainly didn’t feel like putting in the effort to court one. But talking to him in her apartment made her feel those butterflies she hadn’t felt in a long time. He just had this air around him, an aura that projected both confidence and a pure wild energy, a mix that intoxicated her every time she drew near him. He grabbed her wrist and she hadn’t worn a bracelet for the next week. She could still feel the phantom grip of his fingers and the electricity that flowed through them, like a newly connected circuit powering up for the first time. He hadn’t left her head since. She tried to call him as soon as she got home the next day, but she had been so caught up with his floppy hair and lopsided smile that she had completely forgotten to save his number from her mother’s phone to hers. So she placed faith in the postal system and hoped he would be charmed by her antics. And it worked. She was going out on a date with a man who made her head spin, one who tried to pretend that he was unphased by probably the tightest dress she owned even though he didn’t close his mouth for a full minute when he first saw her.

The date was perfect until they had talked about jobs. And then he dropped the bomb and she tried to brush off the feeling in the pit of her stomach by making stupid jokes and he laughed but she couldn’t help but dwell.

“UFO’s, cryptids, anything from crop circles to spontaneous human combustion. If the FBI can’t solve it, they toss it in my pile”

Did he know? He couldn’t have. What kind of psychopath brings up the fact that he studies alien abductions to someone like her. And if he really was undercover he wouldn’t want her to know what his real job was would he? He would have lied.

Unless he was toying with her.

Unless this was another experiment on her, another way to keep tabs on her, make sure she didn’t talk, make sure she was doing her very best to forget everything that happened to her.

She got up from the bed abruptly and shut the blinds on the windows. They clacked together and then the room fell into deep silence again.

He didn’t talk about work for the whole rest of the dinner. He talked about baseball, about how he goes for runs in the park she used to walk through after a long day shift. He said “Behold, a man” when the waiter brought out her garlic and herb chicken. Mulder wouldn’t do that to her. Mulder was just a man with a job whose only interest in her life was whether she was free next Friday to go out again. He paid for the cab back to her hotel and opened the door for her to get in. He was a gentleman.

He’s trying to get her to trust him.

And suddenly everything clicked into place and the air left her lungs. She found herself stumbling to the bed, she knocked over the lamp but it was in her way and she just needed to be in bed. Her ears were ringing, she couldn’t hear, everything was going in and out of black.

He’s watching you. He’s with them. He’s trying to silence you. He’s going to follow you, gain your trust and then he’s going to kill you. He knows where you live, he can track you down, they’ve tried to take her before and he will try again. He’s with them, he’s with them, he’s going to kill you, they’re going to kill you.

Everything’s bright and she’s back in that place with needles and tubes in and out of her, and she knows she’s in a hotel in DC but as many times as she tries to wrap the blankets around her and tuck her feet under her she cannot become small enough to escape them. She feels tears hot down the sides of her cheeks and the sounds of drills in her ears and there's no escape. She hears pounding and wailing and hands grip her wrists and they burn, they burn, so she screams. She won’t let them take her again, she won’t.

“Scully, Scully it's me”

She fights it, and it’s him, it’s Mulder and he’s trying to take her, like she thought.

“Let go of me!” She shrieks, flailing about but she’s trapped, he’s got her trapped, in bed sheets tied around her wrists and feet. “Don’t take me!”

He lets go but she’s still trapped, still fighting.

“Scully no one’s going to take you.”

“Yes! Yes they’re going to take me! You’re going to take me!” He touches her hand and it doesn't burn but it makes a lump in her throat and her fist turns flat. He pulls a sheet off of her and she feels exposed.

“Scully look at me.”

She does. She looks through tears at a blurred man in her hotel room. He doesn’t look like a threat. He looks sad.

“How did you get in here.” He steps to the edge of the bed and she pushes herself back towards the headboard, away. He raises both hands and walks to the other side of the bed where he sits.

“You left your wallet in the taxi. He called me because I paid and I picked it up and brought it here. I made it to your room and I wasn’t going to come in but I heard the lamp crash. So I used the spare key in the wallet and let myself in.”

He seemed to be telling the truth, holding up the wallet as evidence. She hadn’t even realized it was gone.She unlocked the door with the key she kept in her purse. She started to take in her surroundings, the lamp crashed to the floor, the bedsheets thrown from the bed. She looked up at him and saw nothing but concern over his face.

Every emotion, shame, embarrassment, anger, sadness, all of it hit her at once and she sobbed.

He reached over to touch her but she shouted “No!”, like a wounded dog. Her voice didn’t sound real. “Please don’t touch me”.

“Do you want me to go?”

“No.”

He watched as tears racked her body, never moving from his spot on the bed. She cried in a ball, hands covering her face, arms and knees tucked to her sides, protecting her from nothing. Then, she laid down, and cried until the tears had to be blinked down the sides of her face while she stared at the ceiling. She felt him get off the bed, and she bolted up, dizzying herself, but he nodded and only walked over to the minifridge to pull out a bottle of water. She sat up and he resumed his position at the end of the bed.

“Drink some water. Can you breathe again?”

She hated the way he talked to her, like she was a child. But he was right. She accepted the bottle and drank half, gulping down cold water as a welcomed change to the hot sheets.

“Yes. I’m sorry you had to see that. You can go now.”

“Don’t be sorry. I know panic attacks can be bad.”

“I’m ok now. You can go.” The crack in her voice made both of them wince. A different type of silence filled the room.

“You know I am a psychologist, but it doesn’t take an Oxford degree to diagnose PTSD.”

“I said I’m fine. You can go now Mulder.”

“What happened Dana.”

She sat and stared at him, sitting on her bed, asking her to spill her darkest secrets to him. Everything about telling him felt wrong but this is the first time anyone has offered to listen.

“About a year ago, a man broke into my apartment and abducted me. He drugged me and put me in the back of his truck and drove me to a cornfield in Virginia. I remember waking up and seeing the stars and trying to run but I was tied down. And then a bright light came and I-” She choked back another sob, but he shifted closer to her, eyes wide, and nodded for her to continue. “I don’t remember what happened. But my mother found me on her doorstep a month later in a hospital gown and…” her voice cut out. He again moved closer and when she didn’t pull back he slowly raised his hand and put it on her knee. He looked at her as if to ask “is this ok” and she nodded in response.

“I don’t remember anything except seeing my mother’s face again for the first time. She looked so… so terrified of me. Like I had grown another head or something. And then I looked down, and I was holding a baby”. She felt another tear run down her cheek.

“I was holding a baby and I didn’t know whose it was and I almost dropped it. Mom took it from me and my sister came and helped me inside, the whole time they were asking me where I’d been but I didn’t know. I didn’t remember anything. All of these people showed up at our house and asked me over and over again “where were you?” “what happened” and I just kept answering them I don’t know, I don’t know. They said I went on a bender. That I ran away from work and responsibilities, probably with some friends. They said I was pregnant and didn’t know it, and they tried to take the baby for testing but my mother wouldn’t let them. She didn’t believe them, she knew I wouldn’t do that. I don’t remember much of what happened next, but we packed up everything and moved out of my apartment… your apartment. They didn’t even open an investigation on the man that took me.”

“I can.” She had been staring at the lamp on the ground, she hadn’t noticed him staring at her with such intensity it made her shiver.

“You don’t get it. They didn’t open a case on me because there wasn’t enough evidence-”

“They didn’t open a case on you because you were abducted. The FBI has been trying to suppress alien abductions for years and you are just another victim. I could open a case on you, start an investigation, really stick it to them-”

“I am not a case that needs to be solved, Mulder.”

“But I can help you Scully. Do you remember anything from that night, anything at all?”

“Mulder!”

“I don’t understand, why would you not want to know what happened?”

“Because Mulder, because sometimes the weight of what happened is too much to bear. Because while you try to hunt down monsters they terrorize me in my sleep. Because there’s a baby in my house and I don’t know where it came from.” She realized she was yelling at him but she didn’t care. “Because frankly it’s none of your goddamn business what happened to me if I don’t want it to be. The men who you work for threatened to kill me and my family if I tried to find out what happened to me and for all I know you’re one of them.” Her voice was shrill and sharp like broken glass and it cut just where it needed to.  

“I’m sorry.”

She met his eyes again and they were wide and sad.

“I want to help you Scully. I’ll do…” he took a breath, “anything. I’ll do anything to help you.”

“I need you to leave.”

“Ok.”

He got up and she remained on the bed, drained.

“Will I see you again?”

“I don’t know.”

“Ok. Goodbye Scully.”

“Goodbye Mulder.”

[fuzziemutt]

What’s a Family to the One Free Man ?

Summary: With some time to rest, Gordon's mind starts to wander. And he realizes that the scene before him is lacking some people... Tw: Dissociation, Panic attacks (please actually make sure the person having a panic attack is okay with being touched prior to doing so btw), This is hurt without true comfort (Gordon has bad coping mechanisms) Notes: This is based on my own post talking about how if Gordon does have a canon niece/nephew then he has a sibling as well and they've been MIA since the Black Mesa incident... (I can’t place this on a timeline exactly, it’s probs breaking canon hl lore timeline but I don’t care, it’s after stasis tho), no ships everything is platonic

Also: Yes I am using John, his wife and his kid Henry in a serious sense here because I didn’t want to create a whole new character for this angst,,, (and again typing this in one go, no edits, lets goooooo) (also also: Gordon is selectively mute based on my experiences) 

----

They had just gotten back from a quick scavenging mission that brought back a couple pieces of old clothes, tech scraps, and health kits along with a couple more bruises and scratches. It wasn’t anything Gordon couldn’t handle at this point; He was just glad to be able to sit down finally especially as his knees were starting to act up again. 

As he slumped himself into a nearby chair, he watched the rag tag team consisting of Eli, Alyx, Issac, Judith and Barney theatrically retell about the “adventure” they just had mere moments ago. Eli, Izzy and Judith had stayed behind while him and the others practically ran around like a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off if the teasing smile on Eli’s face had anything to say about what they saw from the home base. It almost felt quite homey here honestly with the way they joked as if they were a true family and not a group of people constantly fighting for their lives. 

Gordon wasn’t sure what it was exactly that caused it, it honestly could have just been from being tired, but as he watched Alyx and Barney bicker about who dropped the important gizmo she wanted, he slowly felt his consciousness take a step back from the action in front of him. He wanted to take part in the jokes a bit but he couldn’t help how clouded his head seemed to feel watching the two play fight. Something about the scene in front of him was trying to catch on something in the deep recess of his brain. 

He watched through sudden fog, body practically one with the chair underneath him as something finally caught. He was suddenly bombarded with memories and reminders of three specific people that he should have thought about already that he even felt a stab of guilt for forgetting about them for so long.

John, Iliza and Henry Freeman.

Oh god’s resounded in his head as it filled with memories of bickering and play fighting with his older brother not too long ago. And that was the kicker wasn’t it ? It honestly wasn’t too long ago for him. Just a couple weeks ago he was saying bye to his brother on the phone with the sounds of a small toddler babbling his own goodbyes too. 

John had been picking on him for not having visited since his son’s 2nd birthday and for spending too much time working on “boring” “nerd” stuff. Gordon had even actually mentally agreed, a rare moment for him truly, as he decided to talk to his boss about getting some vacation time after the big test the next day to surprise his brother with a visit. He had been practically dancing at the idea of seeing John and his family again after being away for god knows how long.

That was just a couple weeks ago.. he promised to talk to him tomorrow just before he hung up.. That was just 20 years ago now...

20 years.. since he last spoke to his brother.. John and Ili would be in their 50s.. Little Henry in his 20s...

That was if they even survived. 

His breath cut short and his throat squeezed. 

If they survived.

IF. 

Distantly he felt his increasingly strangled pants, the feeling of liquid slide down his cheeks, but he was too far from his head to realize what was happening. He just watched from the ceiling, detached and afraid as his body trembled and reacted to this recovered information. 

How could he have forgotten John, Ili and their kid ? The very kid he made sure to get a day off to visit as soon as possible after the kid was born and at his new home. The very kid John would jokingly tell not to end up as nerdy as his uncle “Gordie”. The very kid who loved playing with his ponytail not a rat tail and was even growing his hair out for due to it. The very kid he swore to protect and always be there for even if the world ended. 

His brother who he’d spend long nights talking nonsense to no matter how young or old or even far away they were. The brother who accepted him when their parents didn’t. The one who used his actual name for the first time without hesitation. The brother that despite his tough guy act and motorcycles, helped him feel safe even in public.

His sister-in-law who would always smile and clap excitedly whenever he got to visit. The sister who would go with him to stores, if John was busy, so he wouldn’t feel so scared and all alone. The sister who was patient with him and how he still sometimes struggled to speak to her even after so much time being part of his family. The sister who created such lovely paintings in her spare time.

And they were gone. 

He didn’t have a clue where they could even possibly be now. If they were alive, could they have come to City 17 ? Were there other cities nearby they could be in ? Could they have managed to escape all those years ago ? So much have changed in the span of 20 years, would they even be the same ? Would John resent him for having disappeared so long ago even if he didn’t choose to ? Would Ili look upon him in disappointment for abandoning them ? Would Henry not even care to recognize his forgotten uncle that cared about him too long ago ?

He didn’t even get to say a proper goodbye...

His head raced with so many unanswered questions, guilt and hopelessness. His family, even if it wasn’t arguably much, was gone and there was nothing he could have done about it. The choices were made for him. 

He had no control.

At some point, he began to notice the feelings of hands on him, someone was mumbling words he couldn’t decipher at all. Suddenly his hands were pressed against another’s chest he was guessing as his senses began to slowly sludge their way back into focus. He tried copying the gentle rising and falling he could acknowledge; his struggling breath slowly following suit as best it could. 

It took what felt like minutes to possibly hours until the feeling of detachment began to subside, the nonsensical words now beginning to register as what they were meant to be. It was mostly someone counting and saying some encouraging phrases. Something must have changed on his face, however, as the voice was now asking him to list what he could see, hear, feel and smell. 

He knew he wouldn’t be able to force himself to speak in such a state, he also hasn’t been able to feel safe enough to do so since that call with John anyways, and with his shaking hands still firmly to the other’s chest, he couldn’t even attempt to sign what was asked of him. So he just began mentally listing as things came to an off-tilted focus. 

He can see his hands, Barney’s hands, Barney’s face, his hetero-chromatic eyes, the scar on his left cheek.

He can hear his words encouraging him, the gentle humming of electronics, the fans of the ac system kicking on, the soft worried murmurs amongst the people behind Barney.

He can feel Barney’s hands around his, the gentle rising and falling of Barney’s chest, the sticky feeling of tears on his own face. 

He could smell the distant stench of rot, the smell of something that was burnt long ago. 

His name was Gordon Freeman, he was 27 years old and he was safe and what was happening was real. Everything was here. Everything was now.

When it seemed Barney was satisfied enough with Gordon’s awareness, he slowly let go of Gordon’s hands and placed them back on his lap. 

“Hey... you with us, bud ?” Barney whispered just barely enough to be heard which Gordon was thankful for as he didn’t think he could take any sudden noises especially with the now present dull thudding behind his eyes. 

All he could do was to slightly nod, forcing his tense muscles to relax before he snapped something. It was then, now that he was forced to be present, that he realized that everyone was in a loose circle around his chair, all with concerned faces. The others weren’t as close as Barney, seemingly to give some semblance of space, but he couldn’t help but feel they were actively holding themselves back from pouncing on him any second. Possibly to even question him as to why he suddenly decided a cry session and panic attack were the best courses of action at the time. 

It was too much, seeing them stare into him almost so hungrily, so filled with pity. He knew they meant well, but he couldn’t do this right now. Not when they were still fighting the revolution. Not when they still needed him to be strong. Not when he was the legendary, resistance “badass” Gordon Freeman who single-handedly killed the Nihilanth arguably a couple weeks 20 years ago.

He stood up, not making any eye contact and shakily signed what he hoped was an apology and him saying how he was going to check on the antlions, but he wasn’t so sure what he was saying or getting across and honestly he didn’t quite much care. Before anyone could object, he quickly weaseled his way between a gap in the circle and sped walked like there was no tomorrow with no further comment. 

When he was alone finally he could go about repressing it all again, his brother, the time gap, his panic and guilt, it all needed to go and needed to go now. He wasn’t going to let those possible deaths hold him back especially with all the blood already staining his hands. It didn’t matter. They needed strong, capable leader Gordon Freeman whether he liked it or not.

What’s a family to the One Free Man anyways ?

[angelofthequeers]

Checkmate

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

Ladybug: the episode where the A-plot sucks ass and the B-plot shines.

Summary: After making his deal with the devil to clear Marinette's name in 'Ladybug', Adrien seeks the help of Kagami to take Lila down. Lila really should've taken him seriously when he'd told her not to mess with his friends...

AO3 link

“So, you made a deal with the devil.”

“What? No!” Adrien splutters. Kagami just raises an eyebrow from next to him on the locker room bench. “Okay…yeah…maybe…”

“And now you want me to get you out of it.”

“I don’t need you to save me.” Adrien digs his fingers into the material of his fencing pants. “Just…help me figure out how to out Lila. I don’t know how to prove that she lied.”

“Why now?” Kagami says, fiddling with her ring. “Why not literally any other time before now? When I was akumatised? When she was only just starting to spread her influence? Back when Ladybug outed her in front of you? You’ve known she’s a liar all this time.”

“I didn’t think her lies would hurt anyone, okay?” Adrien says. “And I didn’t want her to get akumatised again. I thought she’d just get herself caught in them and out herself. I didn’t think she’d go so far as to get Marinette expelled…”

“Or get me akumatised for the second time,” Kagami says. Adrien can’t quite tell whether there’s an accusation in there.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m a dick. That should’ve been the snapping point for me, but all I did was warn her to stay away from you and my other friends.”

“Yes. That should’ve been the snapping point for you.”

When Kagami doesn’t say anything more, Adrien frowns at her. “So…?”

“So what?”

“Will you help me?”

Kagami sighs. “As annoyed as I am at you, Marinette’s my friend and Lila’s still out for her blood. I’ll help you. Besides, I still owe Lila after that photograph stunt that she pulled.”

Adrien’s shoulders slump. “Thank you, Kagami.”

“Don’t thank me yet. We have to manoeuvre Lila into a corner by getting proof from someone who could irrefutably call out her lies. And for that, we need the help of a certain someone.”

.

“Me? Help Dupain-Cheng?” Chloé scoffs. She dabs the final bit of green nail polish onto Sabrina’s pinky finger, then screws the brush back into the bottle while Sabrina fans her nails dry. “Adrikins, you know I’d do anything for you –”

“It’s not just for Marinette,” Adrien says. “I’m the reason Marinette’s back at school. I had to make Lila fix the mess somehow.”

Chloé narrows her eyes. “Adrien Agreste,” she says slowly, “what did you do?”

“Is that why Lila was in that photoshoot with you?” Sabrina pipes up. She immediately scoops up the bottle of scarlet nail polish when Chloé extends her hand.

“Well…yeah,” Adrien says. “Lila asked why she should help Marinette. I…might have made a deal to be her friend if she did.”

Chloé blinks. Then she blinks again, and then she pinches the bridge of her nose with her free hand.

“Of all the utterly ridiculous – Adrien, you should’ve come to me in the first place! I might hate Dupain-Cheng, but if I’d known you were going to sell your soul for her –”

“Enough with the lectures, alright?” Adrien says. “I got enough of that from Kagami when I asked her for help.”

“Tsurugi?” Chloé wrinkles her nose.

“Yeah. What’s your problem with her?”

“Nothing, nothing. Look, alright, I’ll help you expose Liar Rossi. I owe her for that time she utterly humiliated me, anyway.”

“And you know I’m with you too!” Sabrina says.

“Yes, we’ll probably need you to make sure that such a busy diplomat is available when we need her,” Chloé says and Sabrina beams.

“You’re the best, Chlo,” Adrien says. Chloé smiles rather smugly.

“Oh, no need for flattery, Adrikins. Just meet me at school tomorrow with Tsurugi. The more kids of rich and powerful parents we have, the better.”

.

“Look, I’m not sure –” Mr Damocles tries to say.

“You haven’t even investigated how those answers got into Marinette’s backpack,” Kagami says with crossed arms. “Or the necklace into her locker. And if Marinette didn’t take them, it stands to reason that someone planted them.”

“Which is exactly what she said before you expelled her,” Adrien says.

“You heard Miss Rossi – she has a very rare disease –”

Kagami snorts. “She doesn’t have a disease. She’s a compulsive liar. No disease is making her do all this. And for that matter, why does Lila get to claim any of this with no proof?”

“We pride ourselves on believing our students, Miss Tsurugi.”

“Like you believed Marinette?” Adrien mirrors Kagami’s crossed arms. “I even tried to point out that Lila was lying, and you wouldn’t hear it.”

“Have you even consulted her mother?” Kagami says. “With as many illnesses as Lila has, the logical thing to do would be to seek extra advice on accommodating her. And as far as I know, every other disabled or chronically ill student has to have supporting paperwork.”

“Miss Rossi’s had a very hard time –”

Chloé scoffs. “Wait, so you’ve got this ridiculous rule that someone has to prove they’re disabled or sick, and you don’t even hold Lila to that rule? Incompetent, utterly incompetent!”

“Miss Bourgeois, please –” But Mr Damocles is wilting under the three-pronged attack of Adrien, Kagami, and Chloé.

“I’m sure my daddy would simply love to hear about this,” Chloé says. “Expelling one student and not believing her, while believing another student because of a sob story! No one will want to send their students here if they hear that.”

“Especially if the son of famous fashion designer Gabriel Agreste and daughter of renowned fencer Tomoe Tsurugi happened to lend their support to Chloé,” Kagami says.

“No! No! Please!” Mr Damocles babbles. Excellent. Now they’ve got him where they want him. “What do you three want?”

“For you to call Mrs Rossi,” Adrien says. “We want to talk to her about Lila.”

“I don’t think I can just –” Mr Damocles says. Chloé pulls out her phone. “Okay! Okay! I’ll call her!”

“And I think we should move this to the classroom,” Chloé says. “I’m sure the other peasants would love to hear this. But don’t tell Lila what’s going on or she’ll lie her way out of it.”

“But –”

Chloé starts to dial a number.

“Alright!”

The four of them head for Ms Bustier’s classroom. Class has already started, so Ms Bustier is in the process of writing on the board, and she beams when they enter the room.

“Ah, Adrien! Chloé! I was wondering where you two were!” she says. “I thought Sabrina would be with you, but I suppose she’s just sick or late.” Her brow furrows when she catches sight of Kagami. “Aren’t you in Ms Mendeleiev’s class?”

Kagami just stares right back.

“How rude,” Mr Damocles tuts.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Kagami says. “But since no respect was shown to Marinette when she was accused of cheating and stealing, I didn’t think I needed to show any in return. I wasn’t aware that it was common practice in France to humiliate a student in front of their entire class over an accusation rather than pulling them aside quietly.”

The way Marinette’s eyes light up at this defence of her leaves Adrien’s insides warm and fluttery. He never realises just how much he treasures that light until it’s gone. Watching her nearly give in to Hawkmoth is probably one of the most horrible things he’s ever seen in his life; next to watching Ladybug get captured over and over again during his stint as Aspik or believing that his lady was dying when Mayura had summoned that Ladybug sentimonster.

“We’ve got some, uh…business to address, once our guest arrives,” Mr Damocles is saying when Adrien tunes back in. “For now, why don’t you two take your seats, Miss Bourgeois, Mr Agreste?”

“I don’t think so,” Chloé says. “We’re fine here.”

“What’s going on?” Ms Bustier says. No one answers her.

It only takes about ten minutes after that for a rather flustered Mrs Rossi to arrive, her coat thrown on hastily and haphazardly, with Sabrina in front of her.

“What a morning!” she exclaims. “Everything’s been disappearing – my keys, my purse, everything! It’s as though the universe didn’t want me to go to work today. I’m grateful that this young lady’s father offered me a lift and that she was lovely enough to guide me here.”

Sure, the universe. Or a certain redhead. Adrien peeks over at Chloé, whose smile is almost proud as Sabrina slips into her seat.

“Mamma?” Lila gasps. “What are you doing here?”

“Yeah, what’s going on?” Ivan says.

“Um – ahem – these students wish to talk to you about your daughter,” Mr Damocles says. Mrs Rossi’s brow furrows.

“You called me here for schoolchildren?” she says. Adrien glances at Chloé and Kagami, playing a mental game of chicken, but the look in their eyes is very clear: he got them into his mess, so he can step up.

“Sorry to trouble you, Mrs Rossi,” Adrien says. “My name’s Adrien Agreste –”

“Ah, Adrien!” Mrs Rossi’s face lights up. “My bella’s boyfriend! Lila simply can’t stop talking about you!”

“Mamma –” Lila tries to say.

“Excuse me?” Chloé says.

“His boyfriend?” Kagami adds.

“Not likely,” they chorus.

“Chloé and Kagami are right,” Adrien says. “I don’t know what Lila’s told you, but I’m not and I never have been her boyfriend.”

“But Lila wouldn’t lie to me! She’s my little angel!”

Angel. Yeah. Right. More like the devil. “Ma’am, she’s been lying since she set foot in this school,” Adrien says. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Marinette trying to conceal her incredulous smile. “She tried to lie to me about being descended from a fox superhero called Volpina. She’s been lying to our class all year.”

“She posted photos of herself kissing Adrien without his consent,” Kagami says.

“But that doesn’t sound like Lila at all…” says Mrs Rossi.

“Ahem.” Mr Damocles clears his throat. “These three raised an, uh…excellent point. Now that I’ve finally got you here, I was wondering if you could provide us with a full medical history for Miss Rossi. Purely for accommodation purposes, of course, so that we can ensure that she’s given a quality education.”

“I already told you –” Lila says.

“Medical history? Accommodations? Lila doesn’t need accommodations!” Mrs Rossi says. “She’s healthy as can be!”

“But she said she’s got tinnitus from saving Jagged Stone’s kitten on a plane runway!” Alya says. “Our whole seating arrangement was reorganised to accommodate her!”

“No, wait, it got miraculously cured by Ladybug,” Chloé says. “Her bestie.”

“Oh, and don’t forget the arthritis!” Adrien says.

“And her disease that makes her lie uncontrollably,” Mr Damocles says. “She did tell me that herself when confessing to accidentally framing Miss Dupain-Cheng for the theft of –”

“Stop! Stop!” Mrs Rossi clamps her hands over her ears. Mild guilt starts to bubble in Adrien’s gut – what is he doing, bombarding the poor woman – but his resolve is steeled at the reminder that he’s doing this for Marinette. Who was nearly akumatised and is the only other person in their school who hasn’t been akumatised, as far as he knows. The only reason she wasn’t was because of that freak scarlet akuma retreat!

“Something tells me she’s been lying to you as well,” Kagami says.

“None of this is true!” Mrs Rossi’s got a wild look in her eye, like her world is slowly unravelling around her. “Lila doesn’t have tinnitus! Or arthritis! She was never on a plane runway! What sort of irresponsible mother do you take me for?”

“She also says that she’s Ladybug’s best friend,” Adrien says. “I’ve been so worried for her ever since she said that! What if Hawkmoth targets her to get to Ladybug?”

“We keep our friendship on the downlow!” Lila protests.

“But you gave Alya an interview for her Ladyblog!” Marinette says.

“Ladybug? Lila was akumatised on her first day here!” Mrs Rossi says. “How could she be friends with Ladybug? And what were you thinking, broadcasting something like that on the internet and endangering my daughter!”

Alya swallows and looks down, blinking rapidly.

“Mamma, they’re just trying to gang up on me!” Lila’s eyes fill with crocodile tears. “Ever since Marinette was simply horrible to me –”

“Dupain-Cheng “apparently” stole test answers and Rossi’s grandmother’s necklace and pushed her down the stairs,” Chloé scoffs.

“I didn’t even touch her!” Marinette says.

“Yeah, I know,” Chloé says. “You’re disgusting. You’re a little princess. You’re the least likely person to do something like that.”

“Thank you…?”

“Lila’s grandmother’s necklace?” Mrs Rossi says.

“Yeah, it’s a fox tail!” Rose says.

“And she tried to claim that it was a Miraculous,” Adrien says. “But Ladybug called her out for lying.”

“You knew?” Nino exclaims.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I thought Lila would eventually get caught in her own lies and people would see and then she’d get to change without being humiliated. But after she got Marinette expelled?” Adrien looks Lila straight in the eye. “I know she doesn’t regret anything she’s done.”

“A Miraculous?” Mrs Rossi says. “I think I’d know if a piece of magical jewellery was a family heirloom!”

“And how could Rena Rouge be a thing if it really was a family heirloom?” Kagami says. “Everyone knows that Ladybug gets the Miraculouses from another location when she needs help. And Lila still has the fox tail necklace, which means that either Rena Rouge is an elaborate prank, or Lila’s “family heirloom” is a fake.”

Alya winces at that for some reason.

“But we’ve never had a fox tail family heirloom,” Mrs Rossi says.

“We do! Nonna just never told you!”

It really is interesting to watch Lila flail and try to protect her lies, even now that the whole class is openly staring at her with scepticism in their eyes. Huh. Adrien could get used to this. Maybe there is something to being actively involved in justice.

“I can’t believe this. I simply can’t believe this.” Mrs Rossi turns to Lila with severely squared shoulders. “You told me that the school was closed down due to akuma attacks and that’s why you missed all that school!”

“She told us that she was travelling overseas!” Rose says. “And that she was invited to Achu by Prince Ali!”

“I never said that he personally invited us!” Lila says.

“Yeah, you did,” Nathaniel says. “You just said that you didn’t get to see him.”

“Prince Ali? I’ve never even met him, and neither has Lila!” Mrs Rossi says.

“So, you really don’t know Steven Spielberg?” Nino says.

“Or Jagged Stone?” Juleka says.

“No!” Mrs Rossi says hysterically. “Why would my daughter know famous musicians and directors? I’m a diplomat, not an actor or a filmmaker!”

“Miss Rossi, I believe we have a lot to talk about,” Mr Damocles says rather coldly. “And I would like to thank Mr Agreste, Miss Bourgeois, and Miss Tsurugi for bringing this to my attention.”

Adrien tries not to snort. Yeah. Right. Mr Damocles is just trying to save face. But if it clears Marinette’s name and exposes Lila, he’ll just stay quiet for now and let Mr Damocles take this one.

“But Marinette’s been bullying me!” Lila says. “And now she’s got her friends to gang up on me too!”

But that’s apparently one lie too far.

“Marinette? Friends with Chloé?” Alya says.

“Please,” Alix snorts. “Those two would tear each other’s hair out before even looking at each other nicely.”

“I wouldn’t have helped Dupain-Cheng if Adrien hadn’t requested me personally,” Chloé drawls, examining her nails. “Sabrina, you really need to learn how to paint nails properly.”

“Sorry, Chloé!” Sabrina says.

“Come on, Lila,” Mrs Rossi snaps. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, young lady!”

Lila sniffles as she gathers her bag and treks down to the front of the classroom, with everyone’s scorching gazes on her as she passes them. Once she’s next to Adrien, she says, “How could you do this to me?”

“Because you hurt my friend,” Adrien says. His eyes move to meet Marinette’s, and she flushes brilliant red and snaps her head down to look at the desk. “Marinette’s very dear to me, and she’s not the only friend you’ve hurt. And I told you never to hurt my friends, Lila. Ever.” He leans in and whispers one word. “Checkmate.”

[tomeandflickcorner]

Episode Review- The Real Ghostbusters: They Call Me MISTER Slimer

As you can probably tell from the title, this is a Slimer centric episode. It’s about what you’d expect it to be.

The episode opens with Janine informing Peter and Ray that they’re once again in the red according to the latest financial report, as they’re spending more money than they’re earning.  This is because of their standard expenses of covering property damage (good to know they are doing that, as we’ve previously seen they often cause some damages during busts), as well as the cost of utilities, general upkeep of their equipment and food.  The moment Janine mentions food, Slimer zooms in and goes a bit nuts in searching for the food.  Peter stops him after a few seconds of this to berate the green ghost, saying that all he does is eat and doesn’t contribute anything in return. Slimer responds to this by kissing Peter’s hand, and Ray translates this gesture by stating Slimer pays them back for the food with love.  (Ugh, the sappiness of that statement!)  Janine then suggests that Slimer could help out by taking on some simple tasks around the Firehouse, as a way to earn his keep.  So Peter asks Slimer if he can make himself small.  Slimer complies by folding himself down to the size of a post-it note, which is a rather good trick.  But it turns out that Peter was actually trying to trick Slimer, because the moment he’s folded himself down, Peter stuffs him into an envelope with the intention of mailing Slimer to a prank-loving friend of his.  Naturally, Ray steps in and snatches the envelope away from Peter to let Slimer out.  But it seems Slimer’s feelings were hurt by Peter’s trick since he turns and floats out the door.

Slimer proceeds to roam about the city streets.  And by coincidence, a teenage boy named Mike is making his way home with a large stack of comics and magazines around the same time.  Mike’s journey home is interrupted when he is held up by a group of stereotypical bullies, led by another teenage boy named Rick.  Rick’s gang ends up knocking Mike down, with his comics and magazines landing in a puddle.  As Rick’s gang walk off laughing, Mike briefly expresses a desire to get even with Rick and the other bullies, but laments that’s not possible, as they outnumber him.  And, to make matters worse, an aggressive Doberman suddenly appears and starts chasing after Mike.  (Boy, Mike sure is having a bad day!)  By happenstance, Slimer overhears Mike’s cries for help and goes to investigate. He ends up unwittingly scaring off the Doberman, and Mike is clearly grateful for this.  Mike states that he’s read about ghosts and monsters for years, so he’s not afraid of Slimer.  But the fact that Slimer scared away the dog gave him an idea.  He asks Slimer if he’d like to be hired as his ghostly bodyguard, charged with protecting him from Rick and the other bullies.  Slimer, clearly remembering what Peter had said earlier about not pulling his weight, readily agrees.

Mike brings Slimer home with him and begins teaching Slimer how to be scary.  Which seems to be easier said than done, as Slimer is easily frightened himself and even hides upon being shown a picture of a scary Alien monster. However, it seems that Mike’s training eventually was successful because sometime later, Rick’s gang spotted Mike walking around and they decide to harass him again.  Rick and the other bullies end up cornering Mike in an alleyway, but this time, Mike is a bit bolder and throws a few good insults back at Rick.  Before Rick and the other bullies could pummel Mike, Slimer appears and successfully scares the bullies off.

Of course, Rick’s ego is now bruised, and he’s determined to get back at Mike for making a fool out of him.  He decides that, if Mike managed to get a ghost on his side, then he could do likewise.  He leads his gang of bullies to a sealed away entrance to Subway 13. Remembering stories he’d heard from his father about how the subway station was closed down years ago because of creepy things living down there, Rick thinks they can use that to their advantage.  One of the bullies, showing a bit of common sense, questions this, pointing out that whatever’s down there might not listen to them.  But Rick is conceived that the creepy things living down there will naturally follow his lead, because he’s tough.  (Yeah, how’s that for logic?)  Rick and the others break into the sealed-off subway station and quickly find themselves surrounded by a group of troll-like creatures that will eventually be identified as Barrow Wights.  Rick proceeds to tell the Barrow Wights his purpose for coming down to the abandoned subway station.  At first, the obvious leader of the Barrow Wights seems suspicious, thinking Rick’s offer was a trap.  Rick insists it isn’t, and the Leader Barrow Wight soon accepts the proposed alliance.  But the Leader Barrow Wight states that they cannot go aboveground with them unless Rick directly invites them.  Rick, rather foolishly, agrees to this and invites them to come aboveground.

Meanwhile, the Ghostbusters have noticed Slimer’s prolonged absence from the Firehouse and are growing concerned, as Slimer has never been gone this long.  And Egon had been planning to run some electothermal tests on him, too. Only Peter seems to be unconcerned over Slimer’s absence. But then Janine comes in, announcing they’ve just received an envelope in the mail.  An envelope filled with some money. And because the money is covered in slime, it’s very clear that Slimer is the one who sent it.  They quickly realize that Slimer has been trying to earn some money on the side, and everyone immediately starts giving Peter the stink-eye, considering it was his earlier comment that must have given Slimer the idea to do such a thing.  Anyway, the Ghostbusters wonder how they’d be able to track down where Slimer went off to, as he didn’t include a return address on the envelope of money.  Ray suggests they start searching the area covered by the zip code of the post office who handled the envelope.  They begin to search the designated area, but still have trouble locating Slimer.  Although, Egon does start to pick up an increased level of psychokinetic energy in the area, which was obviously the result of the Barrow Wights escaping from the closed-down subway station.  But the energy spike was too diffused to get a precise location, so Egon had to recalibrate the PKE Meter in order to pinpoint the source.

Elsewhere, Mike is walking around when one of Rick’s bullies spots him and calls him over to a nearby warehouse. The bully tells Mike that they want to make amends with him, stating anyone who can get a ghost like Slimer on their side must be an okay guy, and they want to hang out with him now.  Mike is naturally hesitant, but decides to go into the warehouse anyway.  Although, he tells Slimer, who is with him, to circle around the warehouse, just in case. When Mike enters the warehouse, Rick and the bullies appear on a catwalk, with Rick gloating over how he has his own group of ghosts on his side now.  He then gestures to the Barrow Wights, as they emerge from the shadows.  But when Rick orders the Barrow Wights to attack Mike, the Leader Barrow Wight turns on Rick, revealing that he never planned on working with Rick after all.  He had only intended to trick Rick into inviting them aboveground.  And now that they’re free, nothing can stop them from causing all matter of mayhem.  And to start things off, the Barrow Wights begin moving threateningly towards Mike, Rick and the other bullies.

Fortunately, the Ghostbuters just happened to be driving by the warehouse at that exact moment.  And they’re alerted to the danger when a frightened Slimer flies out and collides with the Ecto-1’s windshield.  Upon reuniting with the Ghostbusters, Slimer tells them about the Barrow Wights, which enables us to learn what they’re called and how they operate, as Egon and Ray know all about them.  Ray even points out how they share some similarities with vampires, as they can only come above ground if someone directly invites them to do so.  

The Ghostbusters enter the warehouse and begin to get to work in busting the Barrow Wights.  But up on the catwalk, Mike, Rick and other the bullies are still surrounded by Barrow Wights.  Slimer flies up to join them, but reacts to the Barrow Wights with fear. Until Rick mocks him for being a chicken.  This prompts Slimer to show a bit of courage, and he manages to fashion a baseball bat out of his slime, which he uses to try and fend off the attacking Barrow Wights. Before long, the combined efforts of Slimer and the Ghostbusters leads to all the Barrow Wights being caught inside Ghost Traps.

In the aftermath of the incident, Mike and Rick decide to call a truce.  As for Slimer, Ray praises him for his display of bravery, stating he’s proven he’s worth his weight in gold.  But Peter, perhaps jokingly, states he’s not so sure of that.  Slimer responds to this by going after Peter with his slime baseball bat.

As far as Slimer centrics go, this is probably the best we could have expected. And it was nice to see Slimer showing some courage.  And he even stands up to Peter in the end.  Although, I’m not entirely sure why the episode seemed to be suggesting it was wrong for Peter to want Slimer to earn his keep around the Firehouse. Because he did kinda have a point. Considering how much Slimer eats, it wouldn’t hurt for him to contribute something.  As for the stuff with Mike and Rick, I personally felt it was a bit eye-rolling. The whole stereotypical bullies picking on the obvious nerd is really overplayed and unoriginal.  And the way they resolved things made it feel like one of those afterschool specials. There was no acknowledgement of how Rick tormented Mike for who knows how long or why he saw fit to bully him in the first place. We’re just supposed to accept the fact that things are cool between them now.  It was a bit unrealistic.  The inclusion of Barrow Wights was an interesting touch though, as they apparently were taken straight out of J.R.R. Tolkien’s famous Lord of the Rings trilogy.  And Tolkien reportedly gained inspiration for them from the Draugar, which were spirits in Norse mythology.  Interesting bit of trivia there.

(Click here for more Ghostbusters reviews)

[theentiregdtime]

ready when you are.

“It went okay! I mean, it wasn’t great… Plus, our rating is totally trashed on AirBNB. We’re gonna have to set up a different account- you know, for next time.”

Dennis swallows the swig of warm vanilla coffee in his mouth and sets the mug down on the counter. His eyes dart up to focus on Mac, standing on the other side of the kitchen, struggling to work his fingers around the delicate buttons of his denim shirt.

He can’t remember the last time he saw Mac wearing an actual shirt- with actual buttons- but it’s a good look on him. 

Yeah… Mac’s a good-looking guy.

Dennis lets those sorts of thoughts cross his mind now, because the hole in the bottom of his stomach is full. It’s full of the things he’s buried and repressed and denied for the past forty years of his life, and there’s no more room down there. Trying to ignore those feelings about Mac is like stuffing a pile of laundry into an overpacked suitcase, and Dennis is so tired of balling everything up and sitting on top of it and fighting with the zipper. 

He’s not fighting anymore. He’s starting to let go of things he imprisoned a long, long time ago. He starting to set them free.

It doesn’t feel as bad as he thought it would. Sometimes it’s better to look at the monster in the corner of the room dead-on. Sometimes it turns out to just be a shadow- the light playing tricks on you. 

Dennis sees the light now, and it’s not nearly as scary as he expected.

“Next time?” he asks; he doesn’t want there to be a next time.

“Yeah, next time. I’m not giving up on you, dude,” Mac swears as he secures the last button. When his promising eyes glance up at Dennis, they’re so big and brown that he can see his face in them, and he wants to keep seeing himself like that- as a reflection of Mac- but he can only do that if they always stay this close. “You know, you could try a little harder to make people fall in love with you.”

But what if they didn’t try?

What if they stopped searching in all the wrong places? What if they stopped searching at all?

Dennis likes how he looks in Mac’s eyes, and he knows that he doesn’t need to search anymore, because he’s found himself right there and he thinks he could see himself there for the rest of his life.

“I am,” he answers softly. It isn’t a lie.

What if they did give up- not on each other, but on everything else in the world? What if they said fuck it to what people think of them? What if they never even left the apartment again, because everything they need is right here- coffee and red wine and warm blankets and each other’s clothes? What if they wasted the rest of their days playing board games and watching movies and dancing to the radio and getting hammered, until they end up on the floor, soft-touching and slow-kissing and laughing, because nothing so complicated ever seemed so simple?

Suddenly, after twenty-five years, it’s clear to Dennis how ridiculous it is that they’ve done all the hard parts of a relationship without the easy ones.

They’ve fought and fallen apart, moved out and moved back in, cleaned up after each other and taken care of one another. Mac’s kneaded circles into his head when it hurt and rubbed at his back when he threw up into the toilet and carried him to bed when he passed out on the couch. Dennis has washed the blood off of Mac’s hands when he did something reckless and ran his laundry through the drier when he was cold and pulled him back to reality when he woke up in the middle of an anxiety attack.

They’ve seen the worst of each other: the ugliest, most disgusting parts; the parts no one else could possibly love- seen each other bare, vulnerable, weak, raging, and scared- and they’ve stayed.

So why not finally let themselves enjoy the good stuff? Why not kiss and fuck and sleep wrapped around one another? Why not shower together and touch each other’s bare skin and let the water wash away the paper-thin walls between them? Why not do the easy shit if they’ve already fought for it, if they fight for it every day?

After all, Dennis doesn’t think he could do much better than Mac. He doesn’t think he’s ever met anyone better than Mac. He tries to imagine it, what they would look like and the way they would act and how the two of them would fit together, and he can’t.

“-and I don’t know if there’s, like, a box you can check for singles only, but if not, we can just message some people and feel it out, you know-”

“Mac,” Dennis stops him. He hasn’t really been listening, but he understands the sentiment well enough.

Mac’s attention is on him all at once.

There’s something about him nowadays- not his chiseled jaw or his broad shoulders or his washboard abs... Sure, those things certainly don’t hurt, but that’s not what makes him glow.

It’s how gently he’s settled into himself, like he’s getting too old to be uncomfortable with who he is, so he’s stared down all his demons and made peace with them. It’s in the warmth of his eyes and the curve of his lips when he smiles, and there’s something about the way he looks at Dennis that makes him wonder if maybe he could be like that, too- like maybe he’s beautiful in Mac’s eyes.

He doesn’t know why he was so afraid of that before. It’s not such a bad feeling after all.

“Look, just… let it go.” He crosses his arms over his chest and shrugs his shoulders. “Why are you suddenly so obsessed with setting me up, anyways?”

Mac laughs like it’s obvious.

“’Cause I want you to be happy, man.”

Huh.

It’s crazy… but he is.

For the first time in a long time, he is.

Maybe not all the way, not all the time, but he’s content. He’s comfortable. There’s no sense in trying to change a good thing, just because they feel they’re supposed to. They don’t have to concoct schemes in the hopes of finding the perfect domestic picture-frame family. They can keep living like this as long as they want- and maybe it won’t be normal, and maybe society’s not ready for it, but it’ll be Mac and Dennis and nothing else in the entire world sounds better than that.

“Do I seem unhappy?” Dennis prods, trying to keep his voice from getting too defensive. He doesn’t want to turn this into an argument- not when Mac is doing something so selfless, not when he’s trying his best. He doesn’t want to act like that anymore simply because he’s too chicken-shit to be kind and attached and codependent.

“Not, like, all the time, but… Don’t you want to spend your life with someone?”

It’s a stupid question.

He already is. All he’s ever wanted is here.

Dennis stares at Mac for a long time, waiting patiently for a response. He wishes Mac could see right through him; it would make this so much simpler. He wishes Mac would laugh and wink at him and grin and say You want me, don’t you? 

Maybe that wasn’t what he needed before, but it’s what he needs now. He’s finally ready to let himself need it.

“Yes,” is all he whispers back.

For a couple of seconds, nearly gone before Dennis can recognize it, he thinks he sees a wave of clarity glaze over Mac’s eyes like they’re getting the picture. If only his hands and his lips would do the same- but they don’t. He just stands there, balanced against the counter, rolling his teeth over his mouth, standing much too far away.

It’s selfish of Dennis to ask for these things- for Mac to slip his arms around him, to crush his lips against his and kiss him until his lungs buckle, to press him into the wall and tell him he doesn’t need anything else, doesn’t even want it, because they’re a good thing just the way they are. It’s selfish of him, because he so bluntly told Mac not to, and now he’s being all respectful and minding his boundaries and moving on, and Dennis can’t take it anymore.  

He doesn’t want him to move on. He doesn’t want him to move anywhere. He wants him to stay right here where he’s always been- where he belongs.

“Me too,” Mac mumbles in reply.

A fire can only burn quietly for so long before something’s engulfed. A bubble can only hold so much air before it bursts. A barrier can only stand so much weight until it breaks. And they’re about to break, they’re about to burst, they’re about to burn. They can’t go on much longer like this. Eventually, something is going to have to explode.

He thinks Mac wants that, too- at least, he hopes he still does. Dennis doesn’t want him to move on. He can’t move on.

Mac is his best friend, his roommate, his blood brother, his partner in crime, his guy, his everything. Mac is his and he’s Mac’s and they belong to each other. They always have, no matter how difficult it’s gotten and no matter how far they’ve roamed, because you can only run for so long before you come back home to the things you love.

Dennis is home again. And it’s time to stop running.

He bites his lip and takes a step closer, running his fingers along the counter, moving towards Mac more sure of anything than he’s been in his entire life- because fuck it, there’s no fight left in him. His hands are tired of gripping the cliff and he’s ready to fall, and he wants Mac to fall with him.

Mac does, for a moment. He leans forward and ducks his head down and reaches out, and this is happening, this is going to happen, because it hasn’t happened for twenty-five years and Dennis is so fucking tired of waiting.

He’s only just shut his eyes when loud, jarring techno music startles him. He and Mac jump apart like they’ve been caught in the act, and Mac fumbles for his phone to turn the ringer off.

Afterwards, they’re silent, breathing a little harder than normal, still in a daze. No two people in history have ever been so afraid of an alarm.

“I guess we better go,” Mac sighs, pointing his thumb in the direction of the door. 

When he starts to walk away, Dennis reaches out to stop him.

“Wait,” he says as his hand clasps onto Mac’s shoulder. “Just- one more thing.”

Mac turns around and looks at him like he could do anything- like one more thing could mean whatever he wants it to and he’d trust Dennis to make it feel good, to make it feel safe- like he’s never blindly trusted love before but he’d do anything if it was in Dennis’ arms.

He doesn’t take advantage of that.

Instead, he winds gentle fingers around Mac’s neck to adjust the collar of his shirt until it’s straight. He tucks the tag underneath the fabric with his thumb, but doesn’t pull back right away. His hands linger and their bodies stay close together, not touching, but so close.

And there’s this moment… this moment where he swears they both see this for what it is. There’s a moment where the veil is lifted and the expression on Mac’s face is telling him he can be his if he wants to, and that he doesn’t have to keep looking for something he’s already found, something he found when he was young and something he’s always kept, something he’s had close to his heart every day but held too tightly to see it for what it really was all along.

Dennis thinks he’s probably looking at Mac the same way.

But there’s no movie moment- there’s no impassioned kiss or tender embrace or cloying one-liner. That’s not how it is with them. They aren’t the kind of couple you see on a screen. Hell, they aren’t even the kind you see on the street. And they certainly aren’t a romantic comedy.

But they aren’t a tragedy, either. It’s taken Dennis a few years too long to realize that. They aren’t doomed or star-crossed or destined to be apart by some cruel twist of fate. They’re right here, standing at the threshold of their apartment- the apartment where they’ve shared the last two decades of their life and counting, the apartment where they talk for hours and have dinner on the sofa and sleep in the same bed, the apartment where they spend nearly every waking minute together, where everything is softer and easier, where the world’s a safer place, where they’ve lived so much like a couple for so long that it’s impossible to tell they aren’t from the outside.

“You, uh... ready to go?”

They’re so close. There’s just one more step, one last leg of the race, one final twist in the tunnel- and they’re almost at the end. And maybe they are something like a movie, because it feels like there’s going to be a culmination to this story any day now, any minute, because they’ve spent so long with it paused, pretending they could stay there- in that safe space- forever, pretending there wasn’t a finale at all. But there is and it's about time they let it play.

No point in starting a movie without finishing it, right?

And Dennis doesn’t think the ending is going to be as scary as he always pictured. Because this isn’t a horror film. It’s a love story in a lot of ways, and what’s so bad about the possibility of being gazed at like you’re young and beautiful and being wrapped up in strong arms like you’re never going to have to fall alone again and being kissed like some things are more important than breathing?

He wasn’t ready for that before, but he thinks he’s ready now; in fact, he’s sure of it. Because what is his ending, if it isn’t Mac? What was it that he always thought would be so much better than him? Than living like this forever, as long as he’s here?

Women? Casual sex? A bachelor pad where he could be alone for once and only care for himself and do whatever he wanted all the time, where there’d be no one to argue with, to fight with, to fuck it up with over and over and over again?

It sounds pretty goddamn awful.

They’re going to keep messing it up in their own special, shitty, dysfunctional way- and hey, maybe they’re never going to be all smiles and sweetness and perfect chemistry like other couples are.

But maybe that’s okay. Because those people grow out of phases. They change and they get old and suddenly they’re bitter and tired of one another, suddenly they’ve lost something they used to have when they were young.

And Mac and Dennis might be real pieces of shit to each other, but they’ve never lost anything.

It’s been twenty-five years and Dennis is still Mac’s leading man.

And that’s a lot better than most people have.

He just has to wait for Mac to sweep him off his feet. Maybe it won’t be this morning, maybe it won’t be today, maybe it won’t be this week- but it’s going to be soon. Dennis can feel it in the air. He can sense it all around him. It’s here, and it’s warm and promising and forgiving. It feels like the start of the rest of his life. It feels less like the end and more like the first page.

Mac and Dennis are a love story their whole lives in the making, and somehow, this is only the beginning.

And Dennis has a feeling it’s going to be a pretty good story.

He doesn’t say all of that, though, because it isn’t quite time for it. They’re not in the final act just yet.

But they’re right on schedule.

Instead, he pats Mac on the shoulder, and gives him his best leading-man smile.

“Ready when you are.”

[agentsokka]

Nott’s Conflicting Narratives

[[Spoilers for Campaign 2 up to Episode 75]]

Man. D’you ever get the need to talk about how much you love your favorite character? Because I am feeling PASSIONATE for a specific little goblin girl right now.

I love Nott. She’s the peanut butter to my jam, the sugar to my spice, the awkward green butterball mushing around in my heart. She’s my absolute FAVORITE character of the cast and one of my all-time favorite characters in general. So, of course, I feel the need to bend over backwards, snap my spine into a pretzel, and projectile vomit my absolute love for this woman all over your dashes.

In this piece, I wanted to talk about her personal growth over the story and how she’s evolved from what viewers believed was merely a skittish, oddball of a green powder monkey klepto into an equally odd but emotionally resonant mother desperate to reclaim her life and family.

In my opinion, Nott’s overarching story revolves around a mother attempting to recapture her personal narrative from a world that has tried to tear it away from her.

Let’s first establish Nott’s position as the “mother” of the Mighty Nein.

Time for a recap.

As we discover in episode 49, Nott is a little goblin girl, who was once a young halfling woman, who was once a halfling child. In her desperate dash to protect her family from goblin kidnappers, the halfling woman known as Veth Brenatto is recaptured and put to death. Her corpse is then reanimated into the flesh puppet goblin suit we know and love today. In this process, her skin, body, and even mind are reconstructed to be more goblin-esque – a situation which Veth vehemently despises. To put distance between herself and her former life, she renames herself “Nott the Brave,” an anagram of Veth Brenatto.

“They made me everything… that I thought I was. Not pretty…not good. Just not.”

This event is significant for a multitude of reasons, primarily of which revolve around Nott’s relationship with motherhood.

In her essay The Symbolic Annihilation of Mothers in Popular Culture, Berit Astrӧm (2015) observes that mother characters are routinely devalued in popular culture via what she terms “symbolic annihilation.” Gaye Tuchman (1978) originally coined the phrase to describe the way in which media trivializes, condemns, or outright excludes mothers, but Astrӧm extends it to include the removal of mothers from narratives entirely.

We’ve seen this play out time and time again: for example, how many times have we questioned “what happened to the mother” in Disney movies? Often, we see that their exclusions leave little impact on the story and characters, with many media franchises unceremoniously minimizing the mother’s very existence as if it held no more meaning than an ironically titled paperweight.

Now, how does this apply to Nott?

Nott’s character is an inversion of this trope. Although she is killed by the goblins as per the trope’s wont, the narrative does not revolve around her son or husband trying to cope with her loss. Instead, the narrative remains centered on she the mother as this little goblin girl punches a fist through the earth and screams NOT TODAY SATAN. Her story revolves around her identity as a mother, and it takes shape in a plethora of different ways.

Nott exhibits many atypical characteristics that are not commonly associated with the idealized form of “motherhood.” She’s loud, she’s boisterous, she’s mischievous. She’s self-admittedly “strange” and eccentric. She saw it suit to dump a pitcher of cucumbers and proceed to eat them off the ground. Absolutely no one can convince me that this a goblin-specific trait and not just Nott being her weird little self.

And yet, Nott exhibits many typically feminine/motherly traits as well. In spite of her vulgarities, she’s gentle and kind towards Caleb, and it takes some time for their relationship to evolve beyond that. She likes dresses! She likes feeling pretty even though the situation rarely allows her to be. She likes to collect buttons and baubles and cutesy trinkets. And most of all, Nott expresses love. Beau’s the first person in the group to say it to someone else, but Nott is the first of anyone to emphatically express her love for this ragtag group of misfits they’ve wrangled together.

“I know we have things to do, and I want to do them, but the reason I want to find these people and rescue them is not to use them, or not because we’ve invested time in them. But it’s because… I love them.”

Nott is very much “the Heart” of the Mighty Nein, in spite of her idiosyncrasies and eccentricities. In this sense, she views herself as their mother – not just as Caleb’s parental figure, but the entirety of the group. It’s not just a meme, with adoption papers scrawled across a series of barbeque-stained napkins in chicken scratch. Over time, she’s genuinely adopted the M9 as her own, welcoming them under her stubby wings. Nott has said as much several times, but most significantly in episode 76, when she told Caleb that she wanted to protect everyone on their own individual quests.

“I protected you so that you could go on your journey and find yourself and fulfill your quest. I feel like I’ve got to do that for everyone now because, I don’t know, deep down inside it feels like my quest might not be done till everyone else has figured out who they are and what they want in this world. Everyone’s seeking something, you know?”

This protection – this overwhelming need to shield, to safeguard, to provide security and aegis – is crucial to recognizing what Nott is as a parent. A protector. A defender. Nott firmly believes that protection is representative of parenthood, its indistinguishable mirror image.

How do I know this? Nott confirmed it word-for-word in episode 13, when she explained her relationship with Caleb to the rest of the M9.

“Caleb and I have a very special…relationship. And it’s that of a parent and a child. But I am the parent, you do understand that, correct? I protect him. He’s my boy, and I keep him safe. … It’s my job to protect him, because I love him, and I am his protector.”

Nott clearly associates parenthood with protection. She reiterates it again and again. If you fall under her protection, you are her child. It doesn’t matter how old you are, how strong you are, how quick you are – she will protect you to the very last inch of her life. And over the course of the campaign, many, many times over, she’s nearly given said life to ensure the protection of others. An early example is when Nott threw her body over Caleb’s to shield him from attack. In 45, she drew the blue dragon’s attack to save Jester, shaving her hit points down to 1.

Nott again establishes this in 76.

“So I feel like, I need to be there to protect you all. To rescue you when there’s a dragon about to kill you and use my body as a shield; or to pull Beauregard out of the mouth of a worm; or to catch you when someone falls with a feather fall spell.”

This is a fundamental aspect of her character, and explains the majority of her actions. Even though she’s anxious and scared, Nott powers through her fears to protect her loved ones at any cost necessary – with a few nips to soothe her nerves, of course.

And as sweet as this gremlin of a goblin is, she doesn’t extend her protection to everyone she meets – she’s self-sacrificial, but only to her proverbial children, after they’ve spent more than enough time becoming comfortable with one another. In episode 75, for example, Nott suggested that Reani was expendable and thus should go first when facing the dragon. She likes Reani, sure, but if it came down to her and the M9? The outsider would be the first to go.

This further lends itself to the idea that Nott perceives protection as parenthood, self-sacrifice as motherly duty – she’s not just a nice gal throwing down her life in order to ensure the welfare of others, but only for the select few she deems in need of her protection.

However, Nott isn’t just a mother, which comes to the crux of this post. For the majority of the campaign, Nott has primarily identified as a mother figure – to Luc, to Caleb, to the M9 at large. But over time, she’s steadily developed into wanting to be more than just a mother. At the very least, she’s expressed her desires more openly over the course of the show as time has gone on. This development intersects with her identity issues as Nott struggles to reconcile two conflicting lives.

Throughout her short life – and I do mean short, she’s only about 25 (I’m turning 25 this month and the extent to which this little goblin has pushed herself through sends me into anxiety just by association) – Nott’s life has followed a very, shall we say, standard route. She’s always been someone’s daughter – someone’s wife – someone’s mother. Veth Brenatto grew up the small town of Felderwin with very few expectations of their people beyond the usual sort, assuming that said small town followed real-world small-town culture. As such, Veth traversed domestic paths in life, not straying far from those expectations. In spite of her intelligence and capabilities, Veth remained a housewife essentially, assisting Yeza when need be and taking care of Luc. This narrative held steady for some time.

And everything changed when the Fire Nation goblins attacked.

Veth’s narrative as a mother, as a wife, as a little halfling from the little hovel hole of Felderwin, was abruptly disrupted when she became Nott. Her narrative was stolen from her, manipulated and perverted into something she deemed grotesque. Forced to co-exist with the tribe, Nott becomes the torturer’s assistant – the absolute antithesis to motherhood in the representative forebearer of violence, depravity, and death. Her desire to nurture and protect is met with oppression and bloodshed.  

It’s no wonder Nott detests the narrative the goblins thrust upon her. Her goblin exterior fundamentally represents a life forced upon her, a narrative chosen without her consent.

“I just don't like how I feel when I see my hands or my feet. They just feel wrong. I want to be different.”

“I'll be honest. I've started forgetting what it feels like to be a halfling, to be me. I don't remember everything any more. I feel like every day I'm more and more goblin. I don't like it at all. I don't like myself at all.”

“There's still something that's not right about this. This is not my body. It's just not me. And people liking you is nice, and people accepting you is nice. But if you feel wrong inside your own skin, then, well, you can't be a good mother or a good wife, or a good anything, really.”

Upon escaping, her narrative again changes: she’s no longer anyone’s assistant, but existing for herself. And only herself. Before she meets Caleb, she’s alone, unwanted by the populace at large and unable to return to Felderwin. She’s no longer a mother – just detested vermin looking to steal and connive, so people would believe.

That is partially why, in my opinion, she adopts Caleb as her own so quickly. Of course, Nott sees him as a means to an end in the beginning, as does he. They both admit that they had ‘other intentions’ in staying together than purely out of goodness of their hearts. However, it is evident that well before the campaign started, these two forged a bond that went beyond that of convenience. Nott fills the hole in her heart, the hole in her very narrative, by becoming Caleb’s adoptive mother, assisting him in his ventures and protecting him whenever need be. By doing this, she is able to choose for herself, to differentiate herself from the goblin’s narrative of pain and misery. She is no longer just “not,” she is Nott, Nott the Brave.

As was aforementioned, Nott’s motherhood narrative grows to include the rest of the M9. However, with time, she reaches a conflict within herself: while she hates being a goblin, she enjoys her new lifestyle. Is she afraid? She’s fucking petrified. Yet like the rest of the group, she’s fallen in love with adventuring, the highs and lows that demonstrate the extent of her capabilities. Nott isn’t just an assistant anymore – she can do magic! She can fight, she can pick locks, she can adapt firearms and create explosive weaponry. Hell, she can wield a crossbow with the dexterity of an Olympic gymnast and liquidate giant spiders into bloody pastes on the wall. With the M9, she’s seeing the world, far beyond the borders of Felderwin and her small-town life.

And suddenly, Veth’s narrative as a stay-at-home mom isn’t so appealing anymore.

Is there a problem inherent to existing as a housewife and full-time mother? No, of course not. Nevertheless, Nott has found herself in a strange position – she longs for her old life and family, ripped away from her by the gnarled claws of fate, yet remains enthralled by the wonders this new narrative can offer her.

In 36, Nott reveals to Cadeuceus that she believes the M9 could be representative of a new life for her – a new narrative.

“I’m not a religious lady, but I will tell you that, for me, this journey with the group has been a bit of a sign. … A sign that there could be, for all of us, another chapter.”

It’s a new chapter, a new narrative, a new life for Nott. One she could never have imagined possible for her in the confines of her small town. And by god, does she want to live it. Nott expressed this desire to live this life to its fullest, to live this new narrative to its fullest, in 27 after Molly’s death.

“Mollymauk was a rainbow man who represented life at its fullest. And. That’s what I want, even more than… even more than what we’re going for before. Together, we’re sort of living life now, aren’t we? And before, we were… in the darkness, so. … I want to find them so we don’t go back to the way it was, when we were hiding in the shadows and, and ducking into alleys to get away from people. We were safe, but we weren’t really alive, right? With these people, we’re having fun and winning contests. And. And killing bad guys, and rescuing children…it’s amazing.”

I’m of the opinion that Nott’s speech is reflective of both her experiences with Caleb as well as her own in Felderwin. She was living before – and she enjoyed it, yes! She obviously loves Yeza and Luc. But now, she’s seeing what life can be like when lived to its fullest, seeing what life can be like when she spearheads her own narrative. She gleans inspiration from Mollymauk, who decided to head his own narrative and remain unrepentantly unconcerned with what his past might have been like. With his death, Nott becomes convinced that she needs to truly lead this life, lead this newfound narrative with this family she’s amassed.

But with that realization comes conflict once the dredges of Nott’s previous life begin seeping into her narrative. This is especially once Nott reunites with Yeza in Xhorhas.

“Caleb, I’m feeling uneasy. … I, because. What the fuck am I doing here? I just was reunited with my husband, and I’ve – I -- we were given a chance to go on an adventure and I jumped at it like that. Am I a bad person? I just left him, I ditched my husband in a den of monsters to go adventuring with you.”

Rather than hold down the fort with her newly reunited husband, Nott instinctively leaps at the chance for adventure, the chance to go out and see more of the world. She doesn’t even think about it, it’s just oh? A side quest? Well fuck me rosy, time to knock my crossbow. Because that’s what Nott would do, not Veth. And once she realizes what she’s done, Nott begins wondering if she’s a terrible person for living her life. She begins questioning her intentions, wondering whether her actions are the ploy of some subconscious desire to remain free, remain independent of her responsibilities. 

“You don’t think I’m just…delaying the inevitable? Scared of going back to my old life, or anything?”

Nott further recognizes the disparity between her two lives and how wide the gulf between them yawns. 

“It’s just, I just don’t know like. Is he gonna…even like me anymore, I’m so different. Not just physically, I do different things now. … Will I like it? I’ve gotten a taste of adventure and, and seeing the world, and now I’ve gotta go back and be a…a housewife again?”

Nott doesn’t even know if she wants to be called Veth anymore. Not by people who have come into her life since Veth’s apparent demise. When Caleb asks her in 59, she dismisses the question and asserts that they should just go with Nott for now.

She asks Caleb to tell her what she should do, in a desperate plea for someone else to give her direction in life. Because driving your own narrative is hard. It’s a painful, painful process, full of ups and downs and mistakes and setbacks. But Caleb fundamentally cannot decide her narrative for her -- it’s Nott’s narrative, not his. He can help her along and support her, but he will never be able to direct it. She has to do it for herself. 

(As a side note: I love, love, love how far Nott and Caleb’s relationship has come. Prior to the Xhorhas arc, Nott never bothered him with her problems, drudging on ahead as she didn’t want to “distract” him from his personal quest. She’s exactly like a mother, masking her insecurities and fears from her young child so that they won’t worry about what they can’t control. And now, as her child has grown up and become more aware of his mother’s struggles, she’s leaning on him more and more for support. It truly mirrors parent-child relationships and is representative of how far these characters have grown over time.)

With these conversations, it becomes evident that Nott is seeking more than family, more than the life of a housewife. And yet, simultaneously, she embodies the narrative of a mother, loves being a mother, and loves the people in both her immediate and found families. To merge these narratives will be an almost insurmountable task, from her perspective -- how can you raise a family when you’re constantly adventuring? You can’t endanger their lives. Conversely, is it responsible of a parent to endanger their own life, potentially risking everything for adventure’s sake? To widow your husband and orphan your child if something goes horribly wrong? If she becomes a housewife again, how long can she keep up the charade pretending she’s a halfling? If she stays, will she forever remain uncomfortable in her own skin? How long will she even live? Nott is juggling so many plates, and dropping even one could result in the partial devastation of these narratives she’s cultivated.

And she’s scared. She’s really, really scared. Nott is petrified of what comes next -- she knows it’s inevitable that she’s going to have to face these conflicting narratives in the future. She knows she can’t ignore it forever. And that prospect terrifies her. She says this explicitly in episode 69.

“I'm just scared, that's all. I'm scared of...I'm scared of what happens next. You know? I don't know what's going to happen after this. I found my husband. I found my son. And I want to go back with them so much. ... But I'm worried that if I go back, that'll be it.”

This overwhelming, paralyzing sense of fear has driven Nott to drink. Even more so than usual. Over the course of the show, Nott has made no secret of her drinking habits. She’s a drunkard -- she knows it, the M9 knows it. You, me, and the NSA agent watching you behind the screen know it. But it’s no accident the M9 has begun commenting more and more on her habitual intoxication. She simply is more intoxicated than usual. She’s depending more and more on her alcoholism to get through each day.  

Nott is of course afraid of enemies, of secret dangers lurking behind every corner. She’s a perpetually anxious person, constantly filled with frenetic energy. But these anxieties have worsened ten-fold with the inclusion of her intersecting narratives and responsibilities. And honestly? With all that going on in her brain, Nott just flat out doesn’t want to think about it. She wants to live in the moment -- not in the past, not in the future, but the present.

“I'm thinking about things. And I don't want to think about things. I don't want to think about anything. I just want to be on an adventure with you guys and that's all I want and I don't want to think about anything else past that.” 

And so, she turns to drinking. As she tells Caleb, drinking is her own form of self-care. While she may protect others, she herself needs protection too -- from her own thoughts, fears, and inner demons. From the physical dangers that manifest in front of her very person. 

“I know you all have my back, I know you all care for me, but no one has my front. So this flask that I drink from, it’s not for fun, I’m not taking nips because I’m looking for fun. If I wanted fun I’d be in Nicodranus with my family. This flask is my shield. It allows me to do these things, to go forward and to protect all of you.”

Nott needs to shield herself from fears that she may not come back to her family. She needs to shield herself from fears that she won’t find a remedy to her situation, that she won’t ever be Veth again. She needs to shield herself from fears that these conflicting narratives will never reconcile, thereby isolating her from either family she’s come to love as her own. 

All in all, Nott is currently torn between two lives -- one whose existence is linked to traditional motherhood, and another whose fate is yet undecided. And yet, by continuing with the M9, Nott has found herself on the path towards potential self-realization. This route she treads has the potential to shed the narrative the goblins thrust upon her and totally make one anew, one that is her own. In that sense, it’s representative of what this narrative means as a whole: Nott is more than just a mother. She’s a mother with autonomy. A mother with hopes, dreams, and aspirations. Unlike Berit Astrӧm’s (2015) analysis of symbolic annihilation, she is more than just a paper cutout of idealized motherhood left to be abandoned.

Indeed, Nott can be a mother without being the mother archetype.

Nott will certainly struggle to reconcile these narratives. She loves being a mother, but she clearly wants to love herself too. She wants to be more than just a mother, and thus she quests to recapture her personal narrative -- one where she can be both a mother and retain her personal autonomy. 

I love the nuance and complexity Sam has demonstrated with this character, and I’m sure we’re only going to see more in the future.

[5sosbitchfest]

Alrighty, Nonsters.  We currently have 290 Asks in our box!  As much as we might try, I know there is NO WAY we’re going to be able to get through all of them.  Everything exploded this weekend when MessyGate went down!   I don’t want to ignore any asks just because I already answered a similar one.  So, I’ve tried to gather as many similar Asks as possible to let your your voices be heard.  Y’all are definitely NOT alone in your feelings.  Get ready for a lot of opinions on Messy’s Twitter Drama.  

Also, if you sent in an Ask and we haven’t answered it yet, please feel free to resubmit it!  I do try to scroll through all of them but it is a daunting task and personal stuff and work make it difficult for me to get through everything in a timely manner!

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Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I’m really disappointed in Luke and this band in general, the way they deal with things. “honest policy” with messy? So he knew all of this and it was okay? Or he confronted her on this and he is okay with what she has done? I’m not sure this whole thing would be a deal breaker for me, but it certainly would make me real mad at my SO and some whiny excuses wouldn’t be enough to make things alright. Radio silence would’ve been much better than that story he posted, made himself look like a fool.

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: These girls will sooner or later become their downfall if their management or them does not realise they should rely on other things than bringing relationship up front to sell their music. I find it extremely bad that they are behaving as if nothing happened, I hope there will be changes once touring will be possible again and we won’t see these girls tagging along everywhere or being brought up in interviews all the time but somehow I’m not counting too much on that.

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I wonder if Luke knows everything that Messy got exposed for or just the parts Messy wanted to show him. Bc Luke said in his Story that he wasn't online lately so maybe he wasn't on Twitter too and Messy just showed him the parts that make her look good and he still doesn't know that she spoke bad about Ashton or how she stalked the fans also after she knew that they didn't hack his email adress cause he wasn't on Twitter so he couldn't see the screenshots.🤷‍♀️

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I'm just waiting for the day one of them date someone who isn't a part of their circle. tired of them passing around the same toxic girls.

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: These girls are just digging a whole for these guys and they want be able to get out of it soon

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: It was a chicken move for Sierra to do it as a reply and no one has talked on twitter that she deleted it because they probably think her deleting it is saying it wasn’t true

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Am I the only one who thinks that guys really only heavily interact with us when they want to promote something or say something about the music? I do understand they have lives so being on Twitter isn't number one priority and with all the drama that surrounds this fandom its very easy to not want to be online a lot, I just can't help but feel that way

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I'm talking about this messy situation (no pun intended) with my friend and she said to me that Messy should consider changing her career if she can't handle that not all people are going to like her. (that ofc doesn't include any form of harassment bc that's not cool)

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I really don't know how to feel about the Luke situation. At first I was upset and disappointed of Luke but now I almost pity him bc real or not either the management would want Luke to defend her or Messy. And I think Luke isn't the kind of person who would stand up against the management or Messy (even though it would probably be better for him if he would). And most people don't realise when they're in a toxic relationship so I can't really blame him. I just hope this ends asap.

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I literally was so angry and frustrated with Luke and this whole situation yesterday that I couldn’t even look at him on my home screen, I had to change it. It’s really a disappointing thing to witness. Whether management put him up to this or he genuinely believes this toxicity is okay, I’m just very grumpy with him at the moment. He deserves better and WE (the fans) deserve better.

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I think Luke really needs to be in a relationship with sb who either isn't famous and doesn't want to be or with someone who is famous bc they have a successful career too and who doesn't need Like to be famous.

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I’ve only seen a few accounts on Twitter who are attacking Messy and Crusty to the core and exposing every bad thing they’ve done with receipts for the sossies defending them! I’m happy that karma is finally getting to those con artist who think they can get away with anything

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: that recent lierra picture is photoshoped lmao. if you look at Sierra's hand you can see color coming off from it and her arm looks hella weird.her forehead looks hella weird and look couldn't have taken the picture because I doubt that he could stretch his arm that far and make a perfect picture. also we haven't even seen Sierra's face so I still don't believe they're together

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: The Lemon pic was like a punch in the face (even though Petunia and Luke are looking cute there). But I've been asking myself lately if Luke has seen the whole drama going around on Twitter or just the posts Messy wanted him to know so the ones who make her look like the victim (and not the ones where she insulted Ashton or she made it clear that she stalked his fans). Cause Luke said he hasn't been online lately.

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I mean we dont know how much of the story he truly is aware of and how much s changed to fit her narrative and get L to feel bad for her. Plus he was under pressure from management to do damage control and not standing up for his gf is a very bad look for outsiders who dont understand why she's at fault. It was a pretty neutral statement and he was obviously told to make the post so I dont blame him and just blame her more for putting him in the situation in the 1st place

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I wonder how much toxicity happens behind the scenes, we know S is very manipulative and L is very much a people pleaser so.. and with how much they have to sell their "love" and "happiness" in the relationship. Minipulation is a powerful thing and it could explain why hes out of touch with reality, especially lately since he's isolated with her and doesnt have the voices of the band to raise any concerns and he's been getting skinny again and seems very "meh" rather than happy, idk

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I feel so disconnected with this fandom rn. I feel like no one is streaming CALM and that makes me sad bc it's such an amazing album. The boys aren't even online anymore, everyone is mad at each other and now Luke comes up with this shit... tbh I wish I would wake up tomorrow and see him tweeting something like yeah I'm sorry about my ig story I still love y'all lmao

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Wait wait wait wait ive been gone from the fandom for a little while now and what the fuck is going on with Luke and S? What did S do that she made a fake ass apology for?? I’m so lost please help me! 😂

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I'm seeing a lot of my mutuals unstanning and I'm just so mad bc Sierra started this drama and got Luke into it and I'm sad that people are leaving bc of this, it's just too much toxicity and it shouldn't affect the band and their connection with the fans but with Luke saying this he makes it seem like he supports the ugly things she does

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I am a Luke stan and I've always loved him bc he has inspired me so much through the years but when he does this things it's like...damn. I feel like he's invalidating the fans' feelings by being like "if you don't like my girlfriend, ur fake" like he has never noticed me on Twitter or anything but my biggest fear is to be blocked by him or just ignored bc I don't like her (although I never expressed it publicly) n yeah anyways :// It feels weird

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Going back and re-reading the DM’s messy literally confirms that she accesses Luke’s account by saying “we couldn’t get in” or some shit like that

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I hate being a luke stan, sometimes it just seems like he doesn't care? he always puts these toxic gfs before the ones who adore him and pay his bills. might just move into Cashton's lane. unproblematic kings.

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: He literally posted a picture of him cuddling her and petunia within the hour

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: The saddest part of this situation is it’s like a repeat of Arzaylea. Luke has no idea what a respectful, mature relationship is. We saw it with Arz and were seeing it again it’s just a little bit different. He stays being controlled and manipulated by toxic partners. I really think homeboy needs to be single for a WHILE and focus on himself. He needs to unlearn the things his past and current relationships have taught him about love because if I know anything, it’s that this ain’t real love.

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Is it bad that I just want the larzaylea drama back?? Like everyone could at least agree on their feelings then...

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Just checked messy’s insta and of course, everyone that still supports her filled her tagged with just the single picture

Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I feel like the reason Sierra is getting away with what she’s done is because she isn’t that known. Like yeah she’s associated with 5sos, but they’re also like not that big which is probably why it’s getting swept under the rug. I’ve only seen the 5SOS fandom calling her out for her actions. If this had happened with a well known celebrity, they probably would’ve been dragged and been trending on Twitter. I might be wrong but I feel like this is what’s happening which is just unfair.