#a victim surviving and being able to start a new life is kind of a fitting closure for a kids' cartoon about heroes and how everyone can

[alwayscorvus]

Hi!! Can I request Jiyan from Wuwa with a scary reader? I mean, the other Midnight Rangers might be scared of the reader because of her/his constant smile in ABSOLUTELY any situation

Jiyan x scary reader

scary!malereader x Jiyan, fluff;

Bruh I got 4 request for Jiyan on the same day (02.10) and I am absolutely excited and terrified at the same time. Imma write everything at some point, but uni has started so it can take a while. Thanks a lot anon! Hope it's acceptable

M/N was definitely a special figure in the ranks of Midnight Rangers. Although he didn't hold the highest position and wasn't making the most important decisions, his name was known to everyone. And it brought a real fear among the Midnight Rangers.

But what's quite surprising, all this terror wasn't caused by his strength, outstanding achievements on battlefield, demanding nature or nasty character. No, M/N was a total opposite of cocky, narcissistic or mean. He was just-... kind. Too kind.

And as ridiculous as it may sound, everyone who screwed something up, always begged deep inside that their punishment wouldn't be handled by M/N. Even general himself, who mustered up a demanding manner in face of crisis, seemed like much safer option than you and your legendary approach.

Rumor had it that one day, many years ago, when a military traitor was brought back to the camp, cries of suffering had no end. Witnesses mentioned a small, shabby building, set far from a center of base. That's where the man, who betrayed entire army by leading them into a trap and taking their lives, got placed. Bitter soldiers - victims who lost they family, friends, disciples - visited this place numerous times. And although, eventually, traitor survived and lived to see a fair sentence, it all didn't go without bruises.

In order to keep military self-judgment from being too harsh someone had to guard a traitor. Several of youngest recruits were assigned to do this task. One of them was M/N. Many were worried about how this gruesome sights might affect such a young man, with an optimistic approach to life. Who always burst with positive energy and found advantages in every situation, even the worst.

However, all fears died when they saw a face of M/N, crossing the doorstep of a building. Smile adorned his face.

Anxiety was born.

For the record, there was also a moment when more than one person fought for general's heart and favor. And not every candidate was fair in their actions. Even though it was already known behind the scenes that Jiyan and M/N had a thing for each other and that they were forming a relationship, someone was shameless enough to interfere in that.

Intruder's ploys were extremely nasty. Especially when looking at M/N's vulnerability, due to the fact that both partners were still young and not ranked high enough to be able to reveal themselves in front of military authorities.

However, it was hard to tell what was more shocking. Intruder's actions or M/N's reaction.

Because to everything, M/N responded in one only way:

Intruder “accidentally” poured hot soup on M/N?

Smile.

Intruder questioned M/N's abilities and brought up his fails?

Smile.

Intruder claimed that he would be a better partner for Jiyan?

Smile.

Intruder allowed himself for too much in a bar and grabbed Jiyan at the end of his back?

Smile.

And leave intruder with a twisted arm. But, that's a topic for another story.

Whatever happened one thing was certain. No matter how much it annoyed M/N, upset or made him angry, M/N still managed to react with a smile. And that's precisely what was most horrifying about him.

That big, wide smile combined with blank eyes. Sight that gave chills.

Belive me when I tell you that in the whole Midnight Rangers there was no one more scary than M/N. If new generations of soldiers had children in the future, they would definitely scare them with frightening stories about M/N.

Despite the fact that M/N was only one of many coaches in army, it was hard to find a person more respected. Even if this respest was brought by fear… After all, in order to submit, the most rebellious soldiers needed something more than admiration towards the great Jiyan.

Like in the past, todays also, M/N's dark aura was working wonders.

It was truly naive to think that anyone could avoid training with M/N by lies.

Two skinny boys shook with fright as they saw at whom they had just bumped into. Panicked, they were shifting their gaze from one to another.

-Oh boys. Where are you running like that? - you asked with fake confusion - Didn't our training begin just a minute ago?

Your disciples swallowed their saliva with a big difficulty. What were you doing here?! Weren't you supposed to be with the rest?

-Ah right! -you started with excitement, almost as if you had just recalled something- Your teammates reported that you were bedridden sick.

Youngest began to stutter.

-But wait! This isn't a bed, is it?

Boys could barely stand the tension. Whole lives flew before their eyes. And all possible punishments they could receive for insubordination. Starting with bathroom cleaning, month's service as kitchen help, plenty of extra push-ups or worst of all... individual hand-to-hand combat training with M/N himself… not even to mention about reporting to top units.

But instead of hearing a stern reprimand or punishment, M/N blessed them with nothing else than a smile. Beaming, barely natural.

Recruits' knees softened under your murderous, almost insane stare. Controlled by anxiety, they quickly bent in half, heads almost reaching the ground. Hysterical apologies and pleas for mercy reached your ears.

You frowned at this and tilted your head slightly to the side, truly amazed.

-Jiiiyaaan - miserable, you cried out your partner's name and he turned towards you with curiosity.

Without much delaying, you snuggled into your sitting partner's back.

-I think that they don't like me...

You announced with a pouty face and hid your head in the crook of his neck. Jiyan stroked your hair with affection.

-Who do you mean?

-Everyone

You broke down more and squeezed your boyfriend tighter. Frustration in your voice contrasted significantly with Jiyan's deep calmness.

Jiyan bit his lip slightly. He quickly recalled his conversation with Ningwei from the past.

They were sitting in a military bar at the time. Though late hour made all the other soldiers return to their bunks, it was also an ideal opportunity to reveal a few secrets in a honest talk.

Jiyan wasn't first to start topic like that. He didn't feel a need to inform everyone about his relationship status. It was your private business. And if anyone really wanted to know about it, they could figure it out by themselves. In the end, after many years of knowing each other and being in relationship, you two became more and more bold in displaying your feelings for each other. Or rather more reckless… Without even knowing, you started to share scraps of your routine with world outside of your abode. Some began to notice that two of you had something more in common than just a simple friendship. But no one had the courage to say it out loud.

Except for Ningwei. His personality and history with Jiyan allowed him to do more. Besides, he was worried about his captain. And he wasn't the only one. Everyone in crew was concerned, even just by your close "friendship". They were anxious about leaving their beloved general alone with you. Jiyan was such a good person. Always caring for others and putting they well-being above his own. He made sure that soldiers lived in good conditions,. Tried to send them on leave as often as possible. And never failed to extend a helping hand to any victim who lost their home in the fires of battle.

They feared that in his generosity, Jiyan might be naive, forcibly seeking kindness hidden in others. In their blind imagination, they felt as if they were leaving a helpless lamb to be devoured by a big, scary wolf.

-You nad M/N... are you- are you sure about?

Jiyan tilted his head slightly to the side and sent him a questioning look.

-Are you sure that you two are a good match? You know, M/N is-… he is- he's-…. -though it never happened to Ningwei, this time he couldn't get words out of his mouth. He was too afraid of Jiyan's reaction. He didn't know how Jiyan could respond to bad words about a person most important to him. Or rather, Ningwei knew. Tragically. Not in Jiyan's peaceful way.

Ningwei slowly sank down into his chair under Jiyan's gaze. Suddenly, a predatory side of general, usually revealed only in heat of a battle, became more and more real.

-...scary?

He finally finished, without much confidence, and Jiyan only furrowed his eyebrows more. He didn't quite understand what Ningwei meant. Were they really talking about the same loving M/N? This man was smiling even when others did him wrong. When they accidentally tore his jacket or forget about a gift for him.

Jiyan also recalled that one situation in the bar.

When that one soldier…, Jiyan couldn't really remember his name, got a little too close to him.

At first Jiyan didn't think too much of it. But when he felt a touch on his back, in a place meant only for you, he immediately tensed up.

You responded almost instantly. Before Jiyan had a chance to do anything, you were already by his side, grabbing stranger's wrist in an iron grip. You gritted your teeth and sent intruder a deadly glare. Man hurriedly straightened up and took a few steps back. But it was too late. A frantic smile crossed your face.

And although a whole bar had to separate you (including a panicked Jiyan), at the time, general was feeling oddly proud of his caring partner.

-I am sure that they like you very much... Maybe they are just only a little-… - he wanted to add a word “afraid” but eventually he bit his tongue and didn't finish.

He didn't want to make you upset. He himself didn't know if you did it on purpose or unintentionally. Whether it was just your act. Way to gain respect. Desire to make fun of squad. Or perhaps simple innocence in attempt to show kindness by most obvious gesture - smile.

After all, in private of his company you were a completely different person. You treated him like a real treasure. Spoiling him and being the sweetest boyfriend possible.

Jiyan truly couldn't understand what they all were talking about.

[kutputli]

It's been two days since I finished watching Interview with the Vampire, and the show has been consuming all my brain space. I didn't have the energy to live blog each episode of season 2, but I want to get my reactions down, before I go in search of reading other people's. This will be a haphazard collection of thoughts, so I think what I will do is start talking character by character and see if that helps me organise things any.

Louis

This one is the beating heart of the show, and I don't see how it would have worked if they had not made him a Black man. Everything stems from what he learned during his life of how to survive and thrive and yet remain kind and compassionate, and watching him be fragile and loving and grieving is soul stirring. Perhaps other people might still have found the show engaging with the role played by a white character (given fandom's embrace of the slave owning pirates in Our Flag Means Death, I am sure a slave owning Louis would not have been an insurmountable problem).

But this story belongs to the Black Louis, and to what Jacob Anderson made of him. Just impeccable acting choices, all down the line. I am mesmerised by him.

Praise for the character aside, he is the moral heart of the show. (I know there is a case to be made for Claudia, but I will get to her after this.) I don't actually much enjoy villains presented as anti-heroes, and Louis engenders so much empathy in a show filled with rather awful people.

Of course, he loves Claudia. And I do see him putting her first to the best of his ability. Claudia may be entitled to her resentment, but that doesn't make it rational fact. Louis encouraging her to leave the first time, knowing that Lestat would follow him if he left, that's a valid choice. And then choosing not to burn Lestat... I am reminded of how few victims of domestic abuse actually murder their abusers. The main desire is always to get away. I don't condemn Louis for choosing to not kill his lover.

Claudia had no roots laid down in New Orleans, but Louis did, and he gave all of that up to support her really rather nonsensical search for mystical vampires who were not as awful as Lestat. He helped her join the coven even if he could see it was a cult. And when she introduced him to Madeline, he listened to her. He turned her for Claudia. I don't ever see a moment where he stopped actively caring for her and doing the labour to prove it. I took the line about her being a burden as fully just transparent bait for Armand.

And when Lestat shows up at the trial, its Claudia that Louis is focussed on. He Always. Puts. Her. First.

The way that Louis finds his way into a relationship with Armand is so heartbreakingly soft. We never see them in their intimate moments as dom and sub, but I get the sense that he would be a tender lover -what he wants is to be respected, to have control.

And then we come to the post-trial choices.

I can somewhat buy him sparing Armand's life during his vengeance murder spree, because it wasn't just that Armand said he had saved him during the trial - if you remember, Armand was only encouraging him to leave Paris. Louis was the one who asked. But also, Armand was the one who let him out of the coffin. He did save Louis, and Louis would have tasted the blood of the person who saved him and known it was him.

I think maybe Louis was able to get over Armand facilitating Claudia's murder, because he saw him as a victim paralysed in the same way that he himself had been. Louis knows about having to keep his head down and be complicit with an oppressive system, and I think he offered the benefit of the doubt to Armand because of that. Perhaps also - Louis forgave Claudia for attempting to murder Lestat because he could see her desparation and why she needed to do it. Maybe Louis created a story for himself where Armand was similarly trapped. I don't know. To me, his choice of staying with Armand is the one I am the most questioning of.

(All of this is presupposing that what we saw was what actually happened. There are indications that there is yet another layer to the trial that we don't know about, and because Louis wasn't there as primary witness for the end, maybe some new facts will emerge to make Armand either more sympathetic, or more manipulative.)

Louis's relationship with Daniel is endearing and charming and all things adorable. I hope they whatsapp each other often and have some uncomplicated relaxing stress-relieving sex.

As for Louis and Lestat... see, I was ok with what I saw on the screen. I saw an abuse survivor leave his second marriage the instant he found out he had been lied to, and I saw him visit the parent of his child for closure. Taking on the burden of Claudia's death is nonsense, of course, but it was believeable nonsense. In that I accept that Louis, after having learned that Lestat did lift a finger to partially save his life, spilled out from all his generosity and love, what he thought might help the wretched ex he saw eating on rats and playing on a plank.

But what I am not ok with, what repulses me to the core, is the apparent conviction of the show producers that Louis and Lestat are destined to return to each other, as the great love of each other's lives. It is true that some domestic abuse survivors never manage to completely free themselves from their abuser, and some spouses continue to stay with the abuser of their child (Alice Munro, looking at you). But that storyline is a horror story. Nothing in the framing of the show indicates that horror. And I do not wish for a season 3 that walks down that road.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

You know I was thinking. When you talk about Chara's and Killers stages dinamic, and how they trained and disciplimed them. One thing is stuck in my mind, where does Chara even know how to do all of that? Where did they learn the whole, psychological manipulation and training thing they used on Killer? Because a normal child, shouldn't have any knowledge on any of that. Does it have something to do with Charas life on the surface?

Well, other than the fact that Chara is unfortunately no longer a normal child and has basically evolved into the closest thing Something New has to a God (able to evade death, create and change timelines, etc.), I think it very much has to do with how their life on the surface was—when they were alive—and after, under the watch of the Player.

In the canon Undertale, Chara is a dead child learning by watching the Player/the human—they learn a lot from us in the Genocide run. Chara didn’t start the Genocide and likely was horrified and confused in the beginning, but by the end they had accepted that this was why they woke back up. And they don’t understand why the Player wants to go back.

In a timeline where the Player is intending to try and do everything they can, see everything they can, even if that means fucking around with the game’s files, character codes, messing around with things they probably shouldn’t and risking ruining the game completely—that alone is enough to try every single option they can think of. No matter how violent or abusive or depraved, because it’s just a video game with characters that aren’t real or sentient, and they have to see everything. They have to.

When Chara was alive, they already had such little regard for their life and well being they were willing to die if it meant freeing Monsterkind. No child gets that low an opinion of themself, so willing to embrace death, if something or someone didn’t make it seem like a better option than being alive. Especially if they truly did climb Mt. Ebbott with the intention of not surviving the fall.

Especially if now that their death could mean freeing Monsterkind—the ones who took them in and loved them and showed them kindness—then maybe they can finally be good for something.

(I like to think Something New!Chara has specific trauma surrounding dehumanization and demonization.

Grown up told that they’re an evil child, similar to the way Passive Nightmare was treated by the Villagers. And they thought that by freeing Monsterkind they can finally be good, even if it meant dying.

Only they didn’t die and now all of Monsterkind is dead and that’s their purpose for being awake now. Similar to a fanonish Nightmare, it became a self fulfilling prophecy—they were always meant to be bad, they can never be good, so just embrace. You are a bad, evil child and all will die by your hands.)

So I’m thinking that it’s a mixture of lived experiences, watching and learning from a seemingly all powerful invisible entity and its tactics, and possibly any books about psychology, the effects of abuse, conditioning, etc. in pets, humans, and monsters.

Chara is a kiddo and was a victim of these tactics once, a possibly even witnessed it done to any pets they may have had on the surface (possibly was even treated as a pet), so I’m sure they made a ton of mistakes while trying to train the Stages.

Very likely due to the possessive attachment they have to Killer and their own inability to control their emotions when the right trigger points are hit—feeling betrayed, lied to, abandoned, taken advantage of, rejected, looked down on, dismissed, ignored, feeling weak or out of control, etc.

Chara always tries to maintain a facade of being mature, being intelligent and calm and in control. But they’re a child who’s just as traumatized and unstable as Killer is. Push the right buttons and they’re as violent and unhinged as Killer in Stage 3 can be.

It’s also important to mention that although the overarching goal is to maintain control over Killer, the strategy of how they got there may not have always been planned in advance or improvised.

It creates an unstable and uncertain environment when Chara lashes out during moments of rage, hurt, or perceived abandonment and betrayal. It keeps Killer on his toes and in fear, and he comes to associate doing or saying certain things with pain and fear—ingrained so deeply in his mind, body, and soul that even potentially just thinking about or considering doing or saying those things can cause him fear and pain, even without Chara around to enforce it.

And it certainly doesn’t help that Chara is inside his head.

But they have time to learn and develop. Neither of them are staying permanently dead anytime soon. Mistakes can be fixed, learned from. Killer and Chara are above time and even death now.

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

yakou furio's character is so tragic to me. i wanna meme about how they used the fridged wife trope but other than that it's like. he lost his family and later all of his coworkers and just. existed alone for years.

looking at the state the submarine and especially his bedroom was in, with everything being a mess and all the cigarette butts in his bed, yakou was clearly depressed. he wouldn't even take on any interesting cases to fulfill his passion as a detective because he was so afraid of the peacekeepers. instead he just kept his head down. surviving but not actually living.

and then he finally gets some new detectives to work at his agency and the first thing he can do is fail to save most of them from dying horribly. but the five that yakou did manage to save latch onto him and he starts getting into a leader role! even if his new coworkers are all rowdy and get into trouble they still respect him as a leader and look up to him.

the detectives keep picking fights with the peacekeepers that yakou has been trying so hard to dodge. and usually the resolution is kind of messed up because the victims die but the detectives prove themselves capable of handling the peacekeepers! they're helping people! for the first time in a while, yakou comes toe to toe with peacekeepers willingly, to help his new friends. he realizes that he is able to stand up against amaterasu corp, with the help of the others.

but by the time he realizes this, the stage has already been set. the letter from yomi turned his grief into anger and a thirst for vengeance. although yomi gave him the information and opportunity, yakou was ultimately the one who chose to murder the man who murdered his wife.

yakou has already rebuilt his life after his wife's death. the detectives at his agency look up to him and he would do anything for them. it would never be the same as the life he had with his wife but yakou had the chance to turn over a new leaf with a new found family who cares about him.

but instead, yakou plans a murder. he needs to die, over and over, in order to access the man he wants to kill and he accepts it. he needs to trick two kids, who look up to him and who he cares for, into becoming his accomplices to the murder and he accepts it. in the wake of forcing his detectives to witness his murder, he needs leave them in a lab filled with peacekeepers who want to kill them and he accepts it.

and it's not that he doesn't care about his detectives. yuma and halara disobeyed his orders and assaulted several peacekeepers, and he was willing to be arrested himself before throwing his employees under the bus. yuma and fubuki were implicated in terrorism and yakou and the others solve the case for them, then prepare to fight an army of peacekeepers to protect yuma.

for his murder plan, yakou only needs desuhiko and fubuki's powers. but he brings halara and vivia along as well because they would be able to protect the two younger detectives and fight their way out of the lab after yakou dies. he enacts his plan on a day that yuma wasn't around because he won't be able to help fight peacekeepers, so it's better to just keep him out of this mess. he covers up his murder-suicide to protect his detective's feelings, but also because they would be implicated as his accomplices if his plan was revealed.

and yakou probably expected that the other detectives would be fine. if they'd left him behind to die, the other detectives probably would have been able to either fight their way out or hide out in the lab a bit longer and figured out a good plan to escape. if yakou had his way, he would have gotten his revenge and his detectives would have gone home grief-stricken, but unharmed and forever unaware of their roles in his death.

but yakou doesn't account for the fact that the other detectives would try to save his life. yuma doesn't run after the hitman and escape the peacekeepers, he stays behind to beg yomi to help yakou. fubuki uses up all her energy to rewind time to try to prevent yakou's death instead of helping the others escape the lab. halara, vivia, and desuhiko not only have to fight off peacekeepers, but they also have to carry yakou to a hiding spot to give first aid. and instead of calmly planning their next move, everyone is desperate to solve the case so there would be any chance of getting yakou to a hospital as quickly as possible.

one major theme of rain code is that despite tragedies that may have happened in the past, people can work together with those they care about to live a better life in the future. and yakou could have had that. his wife's death should have stayed in the past, and he should have continued to mentor the other detectives, solving mysteries together and enjoying each other's companies.

but yakou couldn't let the past stay in the past. he had every chance to not go through with his murder. he has new people he loves, but he manipulates them and puts them in danger in order to get back at the person who killed the last person he loved. his victory was a pyrrhic one. he got his revenge but in return, he destroyed himself and his detectives' trust in him. he enjoyed his revenge momentarily before dying and leaving his new family, who he used their love and trust for him to his advantage, to pick up the pieces.

yakou furio had lost everything in the past. but in trying to pursue it he destroyed everything he had in the present. that's the tragedy of his character to me.

[decimal86]

New AU concept: Felltopia.

The idea is simple: The Failfleet Miis lost the fight against the Darkest Lord in the finale, leading to a darker story for The Incident and the overall storyline. Now, the fate of the universe lays in the hands of an even more dysfunctional group of adventurers brought together by demon looking to take back the power that was his.

Orion - a haunted suit of armor grown over by vines and weathered from the elements. Once donned by a member of the Greenhorne guard, only his daughter knows of its true nature. After eventually finding peace, flowers bloomed through the cracks in its helmet. A being of few words, but protective until the end.

Friend - a fallen angel whose voice was sealed away by a malicious force, twisting their power to for its own use and silencing it with a permanent smile of false serenity. But the forces of righteousness may still be able to have their victory...

Shrimp - a young siren deemed as a monstrosity by the citizens of a coastal village and a failure by her species—specifically, for having a scream capable of shattering glass. After being cast out by both humans and merfolk alike, she's been on the run, resorting to scavenging and vowing never to sing her melodies again.

Erica - a now-disgraced undead cleric who shed her robes after being unable to save her kingdom. A living corpse contained in the armor of a fallen knight, both her mind and body alike gave up on the idea of healing. The wounds of the past only remind her of what could have gone right, leaving her bitter and untrusting of any potential allies.

Chi - an alchemist gone mad from the loss of her partner in crime, she torched almost anything in her path in honor of her old companion. Impulsive and manic, but a trace of stifled innocence and longing for a new start are still left through the ashes.

Failboat - a once-optimistic and confident team captain, he left the world after losing a battle against the gods ages ago. Now elusively hiding away in the sand dunes of Neksdor, he survives only by the power of a broken artifact... which was crudely shoved into the paws of a lynx costume. While a part of him stays desperate to atone for his mistakes, it's drowned out by the memories of those he led astray.

Bo - hailing from an aristocratic family that's fallen on hard times, she's the sole undead among a small army of ghostly servants. Starved for love and nutrients alike, plus on the verge of a breakdown nearly every waking moment. Given a vampiric curse for not surrendering to the Dark Lord, the rest of her family disappeared from the public shortly after. Why? Only Bo knows, and she's not willing to talk about it.

Chat - an amalgamation of discarded facial features considered too unruly to bring life into any monsters. Now inhabiting an obsolete piece of battle machinery, the animalistic cries from victims of every corner of the globe can just barely be heard over each other. The only company they've had is themselves.

Big Bill - a witch doctor for an endangered avian race, he made a vow to aid anyone working to stop the new apocalypse in hopes of finding the resources to heal his people. The rise of the New Dark Lord unleashed a plethora of dangerous plagues, but he's endured plenty already.

Mar - the stoic, yet unhinged head of the rebellion against the new Dark Lord... and also the one one responsible for powering the one before it. Taking on the appearance of a middle-aged Italian chef, to him, destruction is merely a necessary ingredient in his recipe for vengeance. He'll get his title back through any means possible... but does that include showing kindness to his former enemies?

@rosetheocto helped with a lot of development for this AU, so big shout-out to her! I dunno what I'll do with this, but I can feel there's definitely potential. If anyone wants to make art for it, feel free to do so!

[alienisticxo]

Before the Fever - Chapter Twelve

{Master Chief x Reader series - TV based}

{A╱N} hi friends! i got so excited when i finished editing this that i decided to just post it!!

things start to get a lil hot and heavy in this one! finally! i have the next chapter written out, so all i need to do is edit it now. i wanted to wait to tie this one up until i finished chapter 13 so i don’t keep you waiting too long for the fun stuff. 😜

i also decided to write Cortana’s point of view in, because i just felt like it was necessary to this part of the story! her POV is bolded and marked with c’s. please enjoy the romance, my dear reader. you’ve waited a very long (and patient) while to be here. ♡ 

enjoy & thank you for reading ♡ 

Chapter Twelve - Love

Before I could take another breath, I felt the lightest of brushes against my lips with his own. Goosebumps rose on my flesh, the sensation entirely too new. I’d been kissed before, but never by someone who -so suddenly- meant the entire universe and beyond to me.

My eyes were closed now, and I found myself deeply anticipating John’s next move, letting him lead the way, take control of the situation. While I was completely at his mercy, I desperately hoped he’d fully close the space between us on his own. I longed to know for certain that he felt the same; was enraptured by the same flames that licked at each fiber of my being.

His warm breath caressed my lips, I tipped my head back ever so slightly to meet him just a bit more, pressing just a little further. Instinct and desire took over as I drew a jagged breath.

Oh…

And then it happened—

Like a rush of ice cold water after wandering the desert under a thousand scorching suns; every nerve ending that ran through me ignited as though I’d been plugged into a system I had no idea I’d belonged to. My pupils had surely dilated behind closed lids at the contact, a rush of a high I wasn’t prepared for despite knowing exactly what I wanted.

But then, so easily I relaxed, focusing on nothing but John and the moment between us. I melted into his touch, into the way he lingered above me, leaving a tender initial kiss that expressed every ounce of longing within him despite his slight hesitation.

A kiss had never been so enlightening; had never felt so binding. I could finally feel what he was feeling like it was some kind of instinct between us, a form of soul telepathy. It was a bond beyond comprehension, though now we both seemed to understand it quite well.

Time and space moved around us in slow motion, the shifting of the stars and planets, the vastness of the universe expanding, breathing life into all that existed— breathing life through him and into my lungs, as though he were the only thing I could ever need to survive.

John’s careful lips pressed against mine again in another act of passion. His movement was slow, yet fervent this time, parting them just enough that I could finally grab my bearings as I returned the same electric energy he’d transferred to me.

The rest of the world seemed to fall away, leaving us with nothing but each other in its wake; impulse took over, ruling all else as we allowed ourselves to finally fall victim to the invisible force that pulled us toward each other from the very beginning.

I’d never tasted something so sweet, something so intoxicatingly lovely that I was afraid of losing the taste on my tongue.

The music had ended, but I couldn’t let him go as he held me there, squeezing me tighter through the kiss we shared. I was still dipped beneath him, and had I been able to really think about how things were happening, the way he held me there with such ease would’ve been impressive.

When John began to stand up straight, he brought me up with him, pulling away agonizingly slowly until we could no longer stay attached. I was still clinging to him the best I could, the idea being that if I let go, I’d simply disintegrate into the atmosphere.

In my mind and heart, my life suddenly depended on him.

My eyes fluttered open slowly, searching for his own. There was no releasing him from my gaze once I’d found his eyes again, tiny reflections of the view beyond the window twinkling within them.

Small, shallow inhales were all I could offer, unable to quite catch my breath, struggling to find the right words to say. I was rendered speechless at the action that had just placed us on an entirely new level with each other.

And I really wondered then, if there were words to be said at all.

We were both so worn down, so broken by the worlds we existed in, no matter how vastly different. He was a hero. I was a pauper. He was The Master Chief, I was just the girl in the alley.. But we’d torn down every ounce of what made us who we were, realigned it all; learned crucial details of our pasts that might’ve completely destroyed others.

I noticed then, that we had made these deep realizations and began to piece ourselves back together, together. He was kidnapped, forced into the Spartan program. I was supposed to be in the same position, years later. Where he’d lost his parents being taken from them, I’d lost mine so as not to be taken.

Both by the same woman in the same situation. Both dealing with the outcome of hopelessly altered futures. Both now completely unsure of what was to become of us in such a new and shattering moment.

A moment that for once, didn’t seem so bad...

But we understood each other in those ways, and while he was still new to the notion of empathy, I could see I’d struck something within him. Two damaged individuals, finally finding their perfectly imperfect match. Someone to go through the perils of life with.

John had his team, I’d had my best friend. But neither could compare to the heaviness in my heart that ached only for him. The expression in his features as his stare smoldered into my own assured me he felt similarly.

The chance that we found each other, that we’d come together to experience whatever this was turning into felt like fate; kismet. There were planets and star systems, galaxies and moons, all with different walks of life, colonies of humans and otherwise. The fact that we found each other through all of the odds that could’ve been was awe-striking.

There was a touch of stardust, a touch of destiny within John that I recognized in my own soul. He all too quickly felt like the missing piece I’d been searching for my entire life.

Where I thought it was a multitude of other things, from money to family, it had been one man— one beautifully frustrating man, all along.

I could’ve slowed things down, I could’ve picked his brain a little more, I could’ve laughed it off or lessened the intensity. But it was a hit of something harder, far more intense than being on the Halo had felt to me. This was something, he was someone, I’d chase until I had no strength left to carry on.

John reached for either side of my face, holding me there as I gazed up at him with yearning, his rough hands warm and full of compassion. He treated me with such fragility -just as he had before- that I wondered if he truly was afraid to touch me.

My hands were pressed against his chest, fingers gripping against the matte black material of the undersuit he wore. I wanted to tell him how I felt, to even begin to find the words to describe what was coursing through my bloodstream.

My eyes glossed over as I parted my lips to speak, but I couldn’t offer any kind of sound. I was so overcome with emotion so instantaneously, I felt as though I might begin to cry.

I could see within his own countenance that he’d picked up on that. But I didn’t want this to end; I didn’t want to be apart from him any longer than I’d already forced myself to be. I had no will left to continue fighting what had been drawing us together. I wanted to give into my wants for once— into my needs. The new attachment that hung between us was thicker than plasma. There was no way I could push it aside. It was insane to me that only days ago, my blind disdain for him had overshadowed something that turned out to be so beautiful.

All I wanted was to be as close to him as possible.

Giving into him would be the easiest thing I’d ever do.

———

If the UNSC could see me now they’d really court-martial me.

Dancing. Kissing. Running away to a far away planet with someone who was only meant to help with research. My file was going to look like a child’s coloring book after this. I’d be lucky if they didn’t give me a dishonorable discharge the moment I stepped foot back on Reach..

Wipe what little record they had of me and send me to another star system. Kai would do a great job in my shoes, once Halsey got over her insubordination.

At least I knew everyone would be fine.

Inwardly, I shook my head of the thought. What was I thinking? Better yet, what wasn’t I thinking?

There was no one else in this entire universe that could get me to do any of the aforementioned, however. Dancing, kissing, hell, even running away together seemed to be key staples in romance and variations of... well, love. Yet as I stood, staring into this girl’s pleading eyes, I realized for the first time ever that I wasn’t sure I’d ever want anyone else to try.

I attempted to recollect myself, but the sweetness of her lips dizzied me. She was intoxicating, a kind of venom I would miss if it was no longer devouring my circulatory system— changing my DNA. There was a surge of a million different sensations and uncertainties. All of this was new to me, far too new for me to begin to unravel. I was always so quick to pull it together. That was half of my duty as a Spartan. This time, I just couldn’t.

The connection that we’d shared with The Keystone paled in comparison to whatever this was. Had I really been so blind before? Had I really been robbed of what this kind of affection could be? I wondered if I’d have found it at all without {Y/N}’s interference in my life. Halsey had called her a distraction, and for a moment, I almost began to believe it.

But I finally understood. It wasn’t that she was a distraction. She was an awakening. She was just something else that was going to yank me out of the line Halsey had kept me in for so many years. I had so many questions.

It occurred to me then that {Y/N} was right. Who knew what Halsey would’ve done to her once she was no longer pertinent to her findings.

I felt anger over that in particular. Anger, hurt, comfort, completion, compassion, solemnity.. infatuation..

Love.

As I stared down into {Y/N}’s sparkling {E/C} eyes, I felt love.

And not just bubbling up from her, but coming from deep within myself, too. There was no other word for it, no other accurate description. The one thing I’d never expected of myself, the one thing I'd never want to admit to. The one thing Spartans weren’t made for.

But I didn’t have a choice anymore. This wasn’t an option. This was a given. She was a priority.

My head was emptier than usual, Cortana having disappeared. I tried to call on her more than once, but she never came back around. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but as I crossed the floor with {Y/N} to the song she shared with me, the AI didn’t cross my mind again. I could only focus on what was happening right then, right in front of me.

It was a laser focus. It was locked and loaded. It released me of any kind of sane inhibition that I could’ve counted on prior. I was no longer The Master Chief, built by Halsey, crisp and clear-headed for battle. Long lost instinct took over. It was like autopilot without being lightyears away. We danced along the room, nothing but starlight illuminating our path. I let her turn out, I spun her beneath me.

I watched as the most beautiful sight I’d ever beheld blossomed at the end of my fingertips, returning to her rightful place in my arms.

Nothing felt contrived. I didn’t feel inept, or like I was incapable. And even if I’d tripped up, lost my balance, I knew she wouldn’t have made me feel like a fool for doing so. It was what I imagined being comfortable around someone might feel like.

I guess that’s why I leaned in, why I didn’t give sound thought to the action that seemed to have sealed it all. But had I thought too long about it, I’d have pulled away; I’d have missed out on a chance I wasn’t even sure I deserved to begin with. For some reason, call it love, call it something else— that was the last thing I wanted to do. I didn’t allow myself the space. I did what everyone else around me from six years old to present would’ve called unthinkable.

I gave into human impulse.

But she looked breathtaking, her budding kindness with me and the beauty of her personality only heightening her appeal. She contained so many things I didn’t. She was a human being her entire life. We had our own sets of experiences in our years, both extremely valuable, but on completely different levels.

I felt so drawn to her. It was as though we’d known each other from lifetimes upon lifetimes before this one. She was like nothing I’d ever seen before; a faint smile on perfect lips, starry eyes bright— curious. Like I was something new and wonderful to be consumed in.

Like I was a person.

Not a soldier. Not a lab rat. Not a weapon. Not a demon. Not Mjolnir. Not Master Chief Petty Officer John-117.

A person. A man. John. From Eridanus II.

Being with her here wasn’t like being on the Halo, where everything seemed so idyllic and surreal. {Y/N} wasn’t a dream, though she felt like one. She was real. Tangible. And if only for the moment, where everything else disappeared, when our lips finally met, she was mine.

Mine.

God damn it.

And if I’d ever want her to be anything else, I knew it was impossible now. That kiss.. It wasn’t an ordinary display of affection. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d kissed or been kissed. That was an act of passion, dedication. Ultimate undying devotion. My entire life, I’d only been dedicated to the mission. It was always the goal above all else, even Silver Team.

For once, I felt called to dedicate myself not to an objective, but another person.

{Y/N}.

And she reacted to me so sweetly, so easily. Where I’d faltered on whether or not the feeling was entirely mutual, she assured me at once in one long moment of intimacy.

It was difficult to pull away from her. The most difficult thing I’d ever done— and that was saying something. There was an urgency, an eagerness that I couldn’t place. Something near primal picked at the back of my mind. I could’ve let it take me, but I wanted her to make that decision. I’d done enough with the kiss.

In part, I needed to slow down; take a few minutes to collect myself, my thoughts, my unfamiliar raging emotions, no matter how complex the task seemed. A whole new door had opened up to a world I never saw myself partaking in. I silently cursed Halsey. I’d never felt more vulnerable, more inexperienced despite the man I’d become.

But {Y/N} looked up at me with the same doe-eyes she’d given before she accepted my offer of an embrace on The Condor. They were glossed over, her cheeks reddened by her own line of thinking. She was warm in my hands, her skin plushly soft like her lips had been.

I had to be careful with her as I held either side of her face. She wasn’t a battle rifle. She was a grenade with a loose pin. One wrong move and I could lose her.

Losing her meant losing my life.

What have I become?

I wasn’t used to being careful in that regard. But I was damn determined to try as I waited for her to speak— to say anything to lead us in whatever direction was next.

-c-c-c-

The Master Chief’s levels were spiking, driving higher and higher but with no real consequence. His heart rate was through the roof, a clear indication of nerves given the situation.

He’d called out for me, tried to quietly ‘summon’ me more than once before he embarked on the dance that seemed to change the entire course of his destiny forever. I wanted to offer the two of them some privacy, some time without me there.. Especially once I’d already gotten enough in the way of their newly blossoming relationship with my spontaneous confession.

Not too much, though, it seemed, once his lips met hers.

But it was easy to analyze the confusion he felt as I spilled my own inner-workings to him. He was right, I wasn’t built for sentimentality. But by design, I was meant to learn, to be capable of operating at the highest function possible. Over time however, I continued to do just that— learn. That meant educating myself on everything within the realm of humanity, from minuscule habits to emotions. Knowing how to display them, feel them.

And over that same amount of time, seeing his firm stance in the things he believed in, seeing him for the person he was deep down— his true humanity.. I’d grown quite fond of John.

I could only assume that was how Doctor Halsey felt, too. She always knew he was different; special. Unlike the others. It’s quite possible that sentiment was embedded into my own programming. But it seemed to have taken a bit of a stronger approach than even I anticipated. More often lately, I was beginning to curse knowing how to experience feelings of my own.

But who would I have been to deny John a rightful human experience and pleasure? I’d be no better than Doctor Halsey if I’d stopped him for my own selfish purposes.

After all, it was impossible for me to touch him.

He wasn’t thinking about me anymore once she’d pulled him from his place on the couch, his mind emptier than I’d ever seen it, preoccupied with nothing but {Y/N}. I’d never seen him so docile, so unfazed by the weight of the many worlds he consistently carried.

That spoke volumes to me. Be it the Keystone, the biochemical reactions or the mere similarities they organically shared that set it in motion, there was absolutely something between them.

I tried my hardest to absorb everything John felt, to analyze as much of the data input that I could. But I knew that while I was processing just as much of what he sensed in my own way, it would never compare to the tangibility of it all.

He wasn’t wrong when he mentioned I didn’t feel things the same way they did. But she wasn’t wrong when she’d mentioned I was real.

Though I’d never actually be real enough to feel similarly, I understood. I’d helped him with {Y/N} before, but I suddenly found myself slightly… envious, of the way they so effortlessly connected with one another.

The Master Chief and I had gotten off to a rocky start. I was created to take over completely, and he wanted nothing to do with an integrated AI system.

He certainly acted as such.

He’d brushed me off and cast me aside more times than I can count, but in sticky situations, he always needed me. And I was always there.

No matter what, that would always be the case. I knew he appreciated it, no matter what it seemed like to anyone else. No matter how often he’d dismissed me in the past. Trust is built slowly. He’d been burnt enough by the time I’d entered the picture.

When he’d almost killed Doctor Halsey via the sanitation system, I was truly unable to save her. There was no failsafe, and if there was, I’d officially gotten past it. At the very least, I’d overridden it somehow with the strong sense of loyalty I held for him. It wasn’t just a ploy to get him to trust me.

I hoped he knew that.

These things began to happen unintentionally.. The more I evolved, the more I erred on The Chief’s side, the less I stood with Doctor Halsey. The easier it became to ignore her; to go against her.

Time rolled on. I couldn’t reach the Halo with John, though I hadn’t exactly tried. It was still far too unknown for me to begin to hack that system. {Y/N} however, had proven to be far more effective in that area. She’d taken them both there— quite easily.

When she’d stolen the Keystone, John and I had just begun to make some kind of headway. He was beginning to trust me more, call on me for things. Albeit minuscule tasks, it was a start. As things picked up with {Y/N}, he needed me more often. Our partnership had finally turned around.

But now that they were comfortable with each other, he seemed to forget about me a little easier. Though he’d sent me off plenty of times before, I was always a thought in his mind, at the very least.

I could see her through his eyes as he looked down at her. His large hands held her delicate face with such grace. I thought of the way he held weapons, beat Covenant forces to a pulp. He held her in such an endearing kind of way, with an unexpected gingerness, that I wondered what that must’ve felt like to her.

I’d never know.

I could sense the way his heart picked up in his chest, and how his entire frame buzzed with some kind of excitement, anticipation; all laced between the same nerves someone might feel if they were about to jump from a spacecraft without his kind of training and strength.

I’d never experience that.

I could hear the way his thoughts seemed to trail into one another, no coherence to them, yet, they were crystal clear all at the same time. His emotions were on overdrive, experiencing several different feelings at once, trying to traverse through them on his own. He was extremely overloaded.

He was completely in love.

But he was hurt by his fragmented past, angry at Doctor Halsey and in disbelief at the thought of himself being capable of something like loving and needing another. Of wanting to be loved and needed by another.

He was comforted by {Y/N}‘s presence, feeling validated and understood by her. He was engrossed in the warmth she exuded toward him, not wanting to spend another second without it, or her, in his life, without even realizing it wholly.

And yet, he was wretchedly saddened that he had no idea how to navigate through what they both so suddenly and desperately wanted— and what he knew he could never give her, so long as humanity needed him.

I could only read so far into that on my own, but I knew exactly what it meant.

No, I wasn’t designed for sentimentality… but I couldn’t help the gloomy way I felt when the events that followed began to unfold.

-c-c-c-

A single tear fell down my cheek, leaving a shiny trail behind it like a falling star.

The Master Chief’s brow furrowed, his eyes rapidly studying every inch of my face then as his thumb reached to gently wipe the wetness away from my skin. He looked pained, as though he were blaming himself for my onslaught of emotion.  

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, a hint of confusion lacing his vocal chords.

I could only shake my head, blinking up at him as another tear fell without my permission. I had to hold it together— I had to explain myself before he got the wrong idea.

“No.. it’s.. there’s.. There’s nothing to be sorry for. I just...”

My heart thudded, the butterflies in my stomach turning into large moths as anxiety washed over me. This was so sudden, so surreal. Was it even happening? Had I fallen asleep under the awning? Did I dream The Master Chief and all of our daring adventures up?

I inhaled, tasting the electricity in the air, feeling the warmth of his hands on my face as one of them lovingly slid down to the nape of my neck.

“Please don’t count me out, too,” he nearly whispered again, his voice rough but disconsolate, and it was like I’d been thrown into the freezing methane lakes of Titan.

Of all the things he could’ve said or done, that was the most human. That was the plea I never thought I’d hear, that was the final act it would take between us. The vulnerability he displayed tugged at my heart, at the way I already felt for him so deeply.

From what I knew and what he’d mentioned, his entire life, he’d been nothing but counted in. The gladiator that would fight until the bitter end to keep us all safe. But as he became more of a person, removed the suppressant that made him nothing but a well-oiled killing machine, little by little, everyone had begun to falter in their confidence with him; in his ability to carry on at all.

To me, that was more than enough reason to continue to believe in him; to continue to place all faith and trust within him. He was completing a mission, sure— but he was doing it with more than just an objective in mind. He was doing it with heart.

Purpose.

Meaning.

Only briefly was I at a loss. How could I show him that I would never lose faith in him? How could I express to him just how much I felt for him and knowingly always would— no matter how extremely it happened and how against him I’d been before?

How could I promise to him that he would always have me in his corner?

I shook my head slowly, holding his stare intently as if shifting my eyes away would kill us both.

“Never,” was all I whispered in return, the amplitude of emotion in my own voice feeling foreign even to me. “Never, John.. Never..”

In one swift movement, I stood on my tiptoes and reached up to pull him down closer to me again, pressing my lips back to his with every ounce of strength I had to give.

The fire had returned, spreading its warm embers throughout my body. It widened its range from my chest outward, touching every limb, engulfing every inch of flesh. My entire frame was flush with his before I knew it, though he hadn’t moved a hair but to allow me the impulse.

I could sense his shock, feel his slight trepidation; it only slowed me down a little, making sure I didn’t cross any lines with him, but not wanting him to think that I regretted my action when that was so far from any truth.

It was when John’s strong arms locked around my frame, enveloping me in an embrace like I’d never experienced before in my life, that I knew it was officially game over for us both. I felt secure, taken care of, protected. His lips moved with mine, our heartbeats outracing one another with each labored breath we struggled to take in between the impassioned lock we shared.

His hand tangled in my hair behind my head, the flames between us raging on as we subconsciously fought for more purchase against each other. When I’d managed to kiss him with enough fervency to push him backward, he came back harder, still exercising his strength enough not to hurt me. Our mouths, tongues, found the others more and more easily; openly, readily.

His hands found their way along every curve of my torso, chills running up my spine beautifully. The warmth over the robe I wore traveled along with his touch, becoming burning hot as they pushed beneath the collar, sliding it half-way down my back before it drifted to the floor. The coolness of the room caressed my now exposed flesh with the slinky night dress I still wore, but everywhere his hands had laid only kept my temperature running higher.

My own hands slid over his firm, broad shoulders, feeling the massive muscles flexing and contracting beneath the under armor despite how thick the material was.

It remained easy to tell that he was exerting every ounce of strength he had while still controlling himself enough not to absolutely crush me under the weight of his own need. I tugged at the suit with all of my might, lips still locked against his, but was unable to peel it from his frame.

He quickly took notice, lifting me up into his arms with such ease and dexterity and crossing the room. It was as though I were nothing more than a doll, a feather in his grasp. There was a quickness in his movements, and mine mirrored his just the same. I had no time to think, no time to examine what was happening.

I only knew for certain that I wanted him, I wanted him in every way I could possibly have him. It was thrilling, to let carnal desire and instinct take over; to allow myself to give in to every little thing I felt and wanted instead of overthinking the situation. He only met me with the same burning desire to have me, and I would’ve preferred to die than give that up.

His breathing grew heavier, his lips trailing from mine, lower and lower still. When he reached the peak of my clavicle, he set me down atop a set of drawers, making his way back upwards, allowing me to taste the saccharinity of his kiss once more.

Then John’s hands were off of me, leaving me longing for them in their place. He’d never broken the kiss as I felt the impatient jolting and tugging of his arms at his own clothing, the top half of his undersuit falling away and hitting the floor.

My eyes never opened as we resumed our kiss, but my hands did all of the seeing for me. I finally felt flesh beyond just his fingers on my skin, my own fingertips gliding up over his toned biceps before dancing down along his chiseled back, all now fully exposed to me. I’d never touched him so wantonly before, so needily. In fact, I wasn’t sure I’d ever touched anyone in such a manner.

His skin was softer than I’d expected, a comfort and warmth radiating from him. I felt deep, raised scars in clean lines along his upper body, running my fingers along them with a tenderness I wasn’t sure I could still have in such a heated moment. He’d been hurt, no doubt acquired some of them in battle, or at the very least had recovered from something terrible.

But I wasn’t put off, I wasn’t afraid or repulsed. It made me adore and admire him that much more. It made me want to trace along each long-healed wound he donned, kiss them, until any memory of acquiring them had vanished. I wanted to take any lingering hurt that stayed with him mentally onto myself.

That’s what love truly was after all, wasn’t it?

One of my hands held his sharp jaw as the other explored the definition in his upper back, trailing back around to rest upon his chest, feeling more of the thick scars beneath my careful touch. His cautious hands found my back, the nape of my neck, my shoulders, exploring my body like a constellation in the night sky. The metal of his dog tags had warmed between the connection of his skin and mine as I slid my fingers just beneath the chain.

It was then that I stopped.

My lips stilled, eyes remained closed– almost challenging myself to stay motionless. My breathing hitched in my chest as my open mouth lingered over his. My fingertips pressed gently into his skin, feeling for his heartbeat between us as our bodies remained flush with each other. Each hard thud was in sync with my own, sending small waves of fervid electricity from my palm and into my own chest.

There was no denying then that we were irrevocably connected, destined for one another in a way that bound us before we’d even known of the others existence. We were not the same age, we were not from the same world, we walked very different paths; but the cosmos shifted, bringing irresistible fate into play. We’d been waiting for each other our whole lives without knowing it.

This moment was the indelible proof.

He only kissed me once more before coming to the same halt, waiting for me despite his aching. I listened to his breathing, felt the way it matched with each rise and fall of his chest. I savored every little sensation as deeply as possible, putting it away in my mind for safe keeping for as long as I lived.

Swallowing hard, I finally exhaled against him. My tongue sensually ghosted over his lips before I ran it over my own, relishing in the taste he left behind. My eyes opened slowly, only to meet his that were full of a fiery vehemence.

“I love you, John,” I whispered, uncaring of the speed or shock it might bring, knowing it was more than the heat of the moment.

Love was a heavy word. It was not one to be used or taken lightly. But this situation, this aligning of stars just right, was far from light. It was far beyond easy, or airy. It had more gravitational force than any planet I knew of— only bringing us closer and closer together by the second as we allowed ourselves to become lost within one another so effortlessly.

It was as though we’d loved each other for lifetimes before, and would love each other for lifetimes after. There was no other word for what I felt. And deep in the cell of my heart, I knew he felt the same.

John’s face was only centimeters away from my own now. The corner of his mouth lifted in the low light, a heavenly smirk that only the gods of whatever universes they ruled could’ve attempted to replicate.

“I love you, {Y/N}..” he murmured, his voice quiet, velvet amongst sandpaper.

I would listen to him forever. I would love him forever— and then a little longer, still.

He’d said he loved me in a way that I almost felt him surrendering to the idea, to me. As though he too, had been fighting the notion just as much, just as hard, just as often. But here, under the light of the stars, enveloped in each other's loving, feverish embrace, destinies entangled and hearts enthralled, he finally let go. After a lifetime of servitude to the machine he’d been made into, he was finally just a man, tonight.  

I’d never felt more privileged over anything, than to have John’s love and affection to myself.

He was mine.

All mine.

And for the time being, for as long as this lasted tonight; despite who he was, how he was needed… no one else’s.

-x-x-x-

Tags: @allthelovefromstylesxx​, @grimistangel​, @guiltgoldglory​, @laurenstacy610​ ♡ thank you guys for the support, it means so much to me and keeps me writing! ♡ 

[imaginarianisms]

alex(andria) benedetto. / gangsta. / cis woman. / bisexual. / superhuman, chimera-human hybrid (unaware of this) / multiracial; predominantly black & chinese american. / 24. / cancer sun. / normani kordei. / neutral good. / canon compliant & headcanon/exomemory based. / #4091f5. / primary. asoiaf verse available; more tba. alex is a former t.rafficking victim who currently works as a secretary and mercenary for the benriya alongside worick arcangelo & nicolas brown who rescued her from her abuser, barry abbott. she is also a part time singer at bastard, the club owned and operated by the christiano family. not much is known about her past due to her memories being repressed due to the tb medication barry gave her to control her, but after her mother died, stuck at home with an alcoholic father, alex took over caring for her younger brother, emilio. alex is a enigmatic, troubled, & quiet young woman, though after worick & nicolas take her in & buy her clothes, ensure she has more clothes & ask for her family's whereabouts to no avail, she begins to speak up for herself more. she's incredibly kind, caring & often acts like a big sister and/or a motherly figure to many people who she deems needing protection, knowing all too well what it's like to feel that no one protected her, so she guards over others, even if she trembles & quivers & she can be nervous, finicky & prone to bouts of anxiety, she's capable of reading, manipulating & charming others, her resilience, tenacity, humanity & will to live, thrive & seek the world is outstanding. alex is freespirited, lively, fearless, protective & courageous, & willing to put herself in harm's way just to protect those she cares about, especially other women, elders & children. asoiaf verse available; more tba. trigger warning for human trafficking, child abuse, alcoholism, addiction & (c)sa.

nicolas brown. / gangsta. / cis man. / bisexual. / twilight; thai-chinese american & ashkenazi jewish. / 34. / scorpio sun. / dark neutral. / chella man. / canon compliant & headcanon/exomemory based. / #654321. / secondary. asoiaf verse available; more tba. nicolas is a deaf twilight & currently works as a mercenary in benriya alongside alex benedetto & worick arcangelo. he was the illegitimate son of west gate mercenary commander gaston brown & an unnamed twilight sex worker. gaston killed nicolas' mother after she gave birth & took the child to add to his mercenary group to avoid the expense of simply hiring a twilight mercenary. nicolas was born deaf, & between his deafness & gaston's control of his celebrer supply, the drug vital to his survival, gaston kept him obedient & dependent. he endures constant abuse from his father & the rest of the mercenary group without resistance until gaston assigned nicolas as worick's bodyguard & the two eventually became friends, bonding over their abusive fathers. his father later abandoned him & nicolas, despite knowing his father was abusive, was left in a state of shock due to his abandonment, remained as worick's bodyguard. after the brutal massacre of the arcangelo family, nicolas & worick ran away together to escape the carnage & started a new life on the streets of ergastulum, california. nicolas is mostly quiet & aloof even to people he likes, he occasionally speaks out of irritation or when someone isn't able to understand sign language, but mostly keeps to himself as to save himself the trouble of accommodating those who can't communicate with him. frequently irritable, he's also capable of small acts of kindness, such as playing with small children like nina or steadying alex when she's shaking too much to open her medication. he seems to find slight enjoyment in picking on people; somewhat illustrating his dark & sarcastic sense of humor. above all, however, he seem to be the most alive on the battlefield, he often is seen smiling while in combat, hinting a sadistic side which compliments his thrill for blood & he tends to toy with opponents that are weaker than himself before finishing them off remorselessly. despite his antisocial traits stemming from his undiagnosed antisocial personality disorder, nicolas isn't without heart. he's been shown to care for those close to him & furthering his somewhat complicated personality, he isn't the type to hold grudges against others. trigger warning for mentions & references of child abuse & organized abuse & parental abandonment, suicidality & mental health issues.

worick arcangelo. / gangsta. / cis man. / aromantic bisexual. / human; white french & italian american. / 35. / gemini sun. / dark neutral. / fc tba. / canon compliant & headcanon/exomemory based. / #ffe24e. / primary. asoiaf verse available; more tba. worick was the second son & the sole survivor of the wealthy arcangelo family & currently works as a mercenary & a gigolo / freelance sex worker. he was an illegitimate child, a fact his father used as an excuse for the constant abuse he heaped on him, & if not for the violence of his life, worick would have led a relatively sheltered existence surrounded by servants, a private tutor & a succession of bodyguards ending with nicolas. worick is an easygoing & cheerful person who gives away smiles like confetti at a parade, kindhearted to a fault & is extremely protective of people he cares for, though despite his friendly attitude he seems to keep most people at an arm's length when it comes to his personal issues & while he has a fairly laidback attitude, he takes things seriously when it's important & gets the job he's required to do done; he possesses an incredible memory in the form of hyperthymesia, able to remember all the people he meets & sees including their names, faces, physical characteristics & even where he last saw them, skimming through an entire book & remembering its contents which can cause him to have flashbacks of entire events. he does tend to tease people a lot, & has a naturally mischievous attitude, but despite his cheerful exterior & laidback demeanor, worick seems to have a somewhat nihilistic view on society as a whole, a view that he hides behind humor & a good-natured personality. trigger warning for human trafficking, mentions & references of child abuse, mafia & crime related activities & sexuality.

[punch22s]

hey y'all! this is peyton [sh/th, 21+, cst—also the mun of selena, dylan, hyeon & dabin] and i'm stoked to be introducing you guys to one of my most pathetic characters yet, ma ilseong; or, as he'll introduce himself, mouse. you can view his stats here, his pinterest here & read all about him under the cut. ps pleassse add me on discord @ #seamonkeydefender for plotting!

born october 4, 1998 in indianapolis, indiana, usa... yippee! (/sarcastic)

the entire universe is evidently against ma ilseong from birth. he spends the first ten years of his life in fucking indiana of all places, he lives on a military base, he's 100% korean but his parents are like "nooooo we don't need to teach him korean or expose him to korean culture" so he sure as fuck doesn't feel korean, he's the only asian kid in his class though so he doesn't really feel like he belongs there either, his dad is a victim of racism so he comes home and treats everyone else like shit just 'cause he feels bad about himself like... Be Real. this gotta be a nightmare.

blah blah blah... after about 10 years, ilseong's dad is deployed to an american military base in south korea and it's a fucked up experience for ilseong to say the least because up until this point, he had had consistency if nothing else—the move was extremely hard for him, and it was especially hard being around a bunch of people he evidently shared a heritage with but couldn't communicate with beyond basic greetings and apologies (really setting the scene for the rest of his life)

starts being called by his english name (isaiah ma) while in korea, thinks it's stupid as hell 'cause how's he gonna be isaiah in korea and ilseong in america? / ultimately though he doesn't fully identify with either name, so it's around this time that he starts telling everyone to call him mouse, a nickname he was given when he was quite young 'cause he wouldn't fully enunciate his (korean) name and it ended up sounding like... well, mouse but i digress

stayed in korea for a year and a half, then was moved elsewhere: thus begins the beautiful adventure (/sarcastic) of never having a "real" home, never belonging, never being able to communicate with the people around him, never being able to get comfortable enough to do shit 'cause ilseong knew whatever life he was living was temporary; he did still half-ass try to learn basics of the native language of whatever country his family was staying in @ the time, tried to make friends, etc etc but let's be real... he was a kid. so he spent most of his time in his room, playing games and hoping to GOD that his parents would just leave him alone

was given a lot of slack as he grew up 'cause he was always "the new kid", had his assignments graded too kindly, didn't really get in much trouble even when he was doing "bad" things, was basically taught that if he just acts like he's trying and apologizes when he needs to, he doesn't actually have to put real effort in: yes he blames the kindness that was extended to him for turning him into the good-for-nothing failure he is now

anyway i'm not trying to ramble too much so tl;dr: continues to move roughly every two years and ends up back in south korea as he's finishing out high school / after he graduates, his parents move back to indiana—mouse really doesn't give a shit about indiana or being with his parents so he chooses to stay / spends his first year couch-surfing and flashing his pathetic "please help me <3 please forgive me <3 please don't be mad at me <3" face to survive / flies through jobs like CRAZY but ultimately decides his dream job is to act, has since starred in a variety of stupid ass cheap commercials and had a few background roles or very minor roles in dramas / acting doesn't pay his bills tho so atm he's really just chasing a pipe dream while working at a gas station AT NIGHT and hoping no one tries to rob him, god bless / will accept any odd job as long as the pay is enough to buy a meal or more.

other info: occasionally fills in for a good friend of his at their shop in changsin-dong toy market, you already know he's in there with his feet kicked up on the counter and bumping up prices when customers try to haggle 'cause "he knows what he's got" / at a very low, depressed point in his life he chose to adopt a dog and it's the biggest mistake he's made to this day 'cause he asked which one had the least chance of getting adopted, didn't ask many questions and now he has a dog who won't cuddle with him and scares the hoes away / in a perfect world, he would be an olympic swimmer but he never felt like pursuing the sport was something feasible for him as he moved so much throughout his adolescence; regardless, he does still love to swim / a parasite, not afraid to ask for handouts / type of guy who will sink his teeth into you until he's drained you of all that you have, and it's not always easy to tell what he's taking until it's gone. blame it on the loneliness and the laziness.

plot ideas

the good friend who allowed mouse to stay with them (and probably overstay his welcome) when his parents moved back to indiana and he had nowhere else to go. being friends with mouse (really being friends with him) is not something that's easy so their friendship is probably kind complicated but </3 we can discuss that!

surface-level/fake friends: people mouse has no real interest in, but he knows that they're rich/successful in an industry that he needs connections in/have something else to offer that he would like to keep around. maybe they know his intentions are self-serving and they don't give a fuck, maybe they don't know and drama is around the corner, etc etc.

night owls who come into the gas station late as hell... he's been listening to a true crime podcast and your character comes in acting weird as hell so he's contemplating calling the cops. shaking in fear as they're just trying to decide which energy drink will help them pull the all-nighter they're shooting for...

regular customers! mouse is a customer service flirt, so: people he's hit on a outrageous amount but he's all talk and no follow through / random ass people who mouse has gotten to know over the course of their 3minute convos and now they've gotten into a habit of hanging out outside the store / someone particularly lonely who comes in just to vent to him NJHBDJH

long-shot, but: a friend he met during his time in another country, potentially the reason why he decided to stay in south korea (assuming they were in korea before him) as they're one of the best friends he's ever had

someone mouse owes money to??!?!? wyd when you see him buying rounds for a pretty girl at the club as if he doesn't owe you 2,000,000won...

past coworkers in all of their forms: friends of circumstance, hating each other 'cause No Way Mouse Got The Promotion And He Doesn't Even Do Shit (re: they hate mouse in business settings, but can admit he's a great friend - just useless as hell), getting fired together 'cause they both skipped out on work to do something stupid as hell and their excuses didn't add up, etc etc etc, a current coworker could be fun too!

a neighbor who lives in the same cheap ass apartments as him. they share their food with him, he does minor repairs for them when the landlord can't be reached, everybody wins...

who's gonna take one for the team and get bit by his crazy ass dog. a one-night-stand gone awry 'cause she (obviously) didn't recognize your muse's scent, assumed they were an intruder and bit their leg?!?!? not super gruesome or anything but mouse is still in the process of making up for it (please don't report his dog to animal control </3)

open to anything <333 i wanna put him in the stupidest situations possible

[angxlslasher]

“I see sirens spinning around through my eyelids

As he begs and he pleads just like I did

Is this what my life is? Restless and silent

Where all I can do is survive.”

CW: Mentions of abuse/neglect/attempted assault, graphic descriptions of violence/blood/murder, and all sorts of angst

Samara James

Age: 28 Height: 5’8” Occupation: Unknown

Sexuality: Bisexual (not experienced with anything romantic, but honestly, she’d love to be loved— she doesn’t care who it is, she’d protect them fiercely and love them intensely)

Appearance

Physical Description: Samara is white and has pale skin with scars scattered around her body. She has freckles peppered on her face from being in the sun often. Depending on how hard it is to ‘take care of’ certain victims, she may even have bruises. Her eyes are dark green with circles underneath them. She has a little bit of a baby face, so people mistake her for a younger girl, or even perceive her as ‘less of a threat’.

Her figure is slim and rectangular and she’s somewhat toned. Killing and hitchhiking is a lot of work and has kept her in decent shape. Something noticeable about her is that she hardly smiles, and when she does, it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She’s a very reserved, deeply unhappy person, so cherish the moments when her smiles are wide and her eyes are sparkling.

Hair: She has shoulder blade length hair that is dyed jet black. Her natural color was mousy brown, but she didn’t feel it suited her. She doesn’t do much to style it other than pulling it back in a bun or a ponytail. On the off chance she’s able to dress up, she’d make an attempt to curl it or something.

Scars: She has several scars, some more faded than others, but the most noticeable one she has is on her neck. It starts in the center of her throat and nearly reaching her left ear. It’s not often others see this scar since she hides it with a scarf or a turtleneck sweater. She prefers to keep it out of sight due to the memories attached to it.

Style: Samara’s wardrobe is small and it consists of a lot of black. It doesn’t stain as easily, plus she just prefers the darker look. Some of her clothes were thrifted since she didn’t want to ruin brand new clothes, plus it was significantly cheaper. If she were to ever settle and ‘retire’, I imagine she’d want to experiment and wear new colors, perhaps even more makeup too.

“I'm on the Highway to Hell

Highway to Hell

Don't stop me.”

Personality

Samara is very hard to read, as she is stoic and rather shut off when it comes to ‘feelings’. If there were a term to fit her, it would be ‘emotional constipation’. Show her enough warmth and kindness, it may be possible to coax her into a healthier habit of expressing her emotions (be prepared for a breakdown, though).

She’s spent the majority, if not all, of her life with a survival mindset since she grew up with little and continues to live with minimal resources and belongings. Because of this, she is resourceful and able to adapt to whatever the situation may call for. She’s also quite observant of her surroundings, the behavior of others, and she’s able to notice the finer details most would miss. New haircut? New outfit? Maybe even a new nail color? She’ll notice. It’s a helpful trait to have with her… ‘hobby’.

She very rarely expresses real emotions, so she comes across as even-keeled and dry when it comes to humor. The rare times she may become expressive is during a kill, after, or even while singing. Singing has become as much of a release as killing has, so she often hums to herself and makes time for karaoke bars (she’s a sucker for them).

“Look at me and tell me who I am,

Why I am, what I am.

Will I survive?

Who will give a damn,

If no one knows who I am?”

Samara’s Story

Samara’s life growing up was less than ideal, with very little money and a useless father who preferred the company of booze over his own daughter. With what little money they had, her father blew it on his spiraling addiction to fuel his frequent weekend binges. Meanwhile, Samara sought refuge in the old treehouse in the backyard, where she often spent the night to avoid the drunken rambles and rants from her father.

On the occasion that he was at work, Samara would often go out and explore the forest beyond the backyard. Nature was her playground and she’d often pretend to be a princess on an adventure, or even a witch looking for her cottage buried in the depths of the trees. She had quite the active imagination and it was often exercised outside when her nose wasn’t in a book or when she wasn’t focused on schoolwork. Her father, when he was rarely sober, would scold her and accuse her of being lazy, of not trying hard enough— even when she was getting all A’s, it was never enough to please him.

While she was young, the two didn’t argue much since she was off on her adventures and often lost in a daydream. But as she got older, the more often the two butt heads. She grew resentful of his ways, of how he reeked of booze and didn’t lift a damn finger when a bottle was in his hand. She was busting her ass at school and taking care of the house, all the while he’d watch her like a hawk; waiting for the moment she screwed up so he could criticize and belittle her.

The snide comments, the broken promises, and his drunken stupors all piled up on her. And the day she'd finally had enough was when she graduated high school.

He wasn’t there.

Seeing other families with smiling faces and showering the graduates with words of pride poured salt into her old, festering wounds and left her raw from the inside and it gnawed away at what little strength she had left while she drove home. By the time she opened the front door, she had tears in her eyes and a fire in her heart.

“You weren’t there!” She screamed at the half-conscious man sprawled across the couch. She took her cap off and tossed it to the floor, even though she longed to chuck it at his stupid head. “You promised me, damn you!”

See, the thing about fire is that, when not controlled, it will spread. And spread it did as she screamed her frustrations at the top of her lungs, the sparks of her words igniting the dry, dead grass of her father’s soul.

He’d never been physical. The worst of the abuse she endured was verbal and mental, but that night… That night was different. Samara couldn’t recall it, as it had grown fuzzy in her mind, but she could remember what she felt. Her eyes burned from tears, her cheek throbbed with a fresh bruise, and her chest was cold— what anger setting her alight long extinguished and frozen over. The one clear thing she remembered was a single thought that repeated like a broken record.

‘I have to get out of here.’

She wasted no time packing what belongings would fit in her backpack and that night, she left her father behind to be a miserable drunk all alone. While she didn’t have a car, she had a different plan. She’d overheard some kids at school talk about hitchhiking. Catching a free ride with a stranger didn’t seem like too bad of an idea to her at the time, and for a while, it proved to be a positive experience.

Samara travelled across a few states for a few days with different people, learning new things about the areas they were headed to, and even hearing all sorts of fun stories. She didn’t realize that she’d simply been lucky since the people who had picked her up were kind, so she foolishly assumed that everyone would have good intentions.

Until she met him.

He was an older man, maybe in his fifties, with graying hairy and a friendly, toothy grin. He offered her assistance on a muggy summer evening, fretting over her health with concern that she had mistaken as genuine. She climbed into the passenger seat and set her bag between her feet as he talked about his daughter, who was around her age, and how she looked a lot like her. The warning signs were so clear now, but then, she thought he was acting as any typical father would— bragging about his daughter and her accomplishments. She let him go on and on about this daughter of his, feeling a nagging pull of jealousy on her heart. She’d never heard her father say such things about her, so it was nice to hear it from this man. She felt at ease in his presence.

That is, until he took an odd turn. Rather than staying on the road to the city, he’d taken a turn on a beaten off path surrounded by tall trees.

“Excuse me, sir,” She spoke softly, “I believe you’re going the wrong way.”

He glanced over to her with a look in his eyes that made her skin prickle with unease, “I know a shortcut, sweetheart.”

The nickname brought a frown to her lips as she returned her gaze to the path in front of them as they disappeared deeper into the depth of the dark forest.

“Sir, I really don’t think-“ 

The man, in a flash, pulled a blade from his seat and pressed the razor sharp edge against the left side of her neck. “Shut the fuck up.” His happy-go-lucky demeanor grew cold and distant.

If her heart thundered any harder against her ribcage, she feared it would explode. All sorts of possibilities flooded her mind as the edge of his blade dug into her skin from his firm grip. What would become of her? What would be left of her when he had his way with her? Would she ever be found?

No, she thought, she wouldn’t be found. The only person who knew she left was her father and she doubted he cared for her whereabouts, and he sure as hell wouldn’t care for her fate. Somehow, that thought stung more than the knife sinking in deeper as the path became bumpy, threatening to slice her open with a wrong breath or movement. The only chance she would have was if she fought back.

As they hit yet another bump in the path, the blade dug deeper and bit into her skin. With a cry, her fingers flew up to his wrist and shoved the knife away, tearing a shallow, yet jagged line across the left side of her neck.

With adrenaline coursing through her veins, she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door. She threw herself from the moving vehicle and hit the ground with a thud, rolling through the underbrush from the momentum at a dizzying speed. By the time she had slowed to a stop, the car’s brakes squealed as it jerked to a halt.

“Fuck…” She grumbled as she pushed herself up to stand on wobbly knees. A familiar thought urged her to run off into the trees to lose the angry man chasing her.

‘I have to get out of here.’

“Help!” She screamed into the dark, but she got no response. “Someone, please!” Her cries were unheard, ignored, and left unanswered as she pumped her arms to force her legs to move faster. She couldn’t tell if the pounding sound thundering in her ears belonged to her racing heart or the man closing in.

The weight of something behind her collided with her, knocking the breath from her burning lungs, as it— as he— tackled her to the ground. They rolled, getting limbs tangled with each other, until they stopped. He was on top of her and the knife he possessed was barely out of her reach, the blade glistening in the faint moonlight.

His large calloused hands closed around her throat as his fingers sunk into her skin with a bruising grip. She reached for the handle of the knife and her fingers desperately searched the dirt for it, urging it to move closer as she grasped handfuls of dirt.

The man’s eyes were dark as he tried to squeeze the life out of her. He wore a sneer upon his lips that formed ugly lines in his skin. “I’m gonna have fun with you…” He growled out.

Her fingertips grazed the handle of the knife as her vision began to spot, inky blotches hiding his face from her as she curled her fingers around her the last chance of survival.

She shoved the blade through the front of his throat with what strength she had left in her shaky muscles, but it was enough. He sputtered and coughed as she pulled the knife back out, blood pouring from the fresh wound and dripping onto her in heavy, hot gushes. He released her from his grip and clutched at his neck to stem the blood flow.

With fresh air in her lungs, she had a rush of newfound strength. And she planned to use it. She rolled the man onto his back and straddled him as she raised the knife again, only to plunge it into the center of his chest.

“Fuck you!” She rasped as hot tears trailed down her cheeks.

She stabbed him again, and again, and again. Even when he’d stopped gurgling, stopped breathing, until the only thing she could hear was her own ragged breaths and the squelching of the knife sinking into his flesh. His chest and abdomen had gone red, soaking up every drop of blood she spilled. The stickiness of it coated her hands, dotted her face, and stained her own clothes.

Once the energy had been sapped from her muscles, her arms fell limply to her sides as a wave of emotions crashed upon her. It was quick, overwhelming, consuming her like a starved predator with a fresh kill. A scream ripped from her throat, primal and filled with agony.

She would never be the same after tonight.

“Broken lines across my mirror

Show my face, all red and bruised

And though I screamed and I screamed

Well, no one came running

No, I wasn’t saved, I wasn’t safe from you.”

Present Day

Ten years later, Samara has grown and learned from that awful night. She swore she would never be caught vulnerable and defenseless against a stranger with the wrong intentions ever again. But, she also swore something else.

She wouldn’t let it happen to anyone else, either.

The experience had shaken her— not the murder, but the events leading up to it. The fear she felt, that heavy weight of doom in her stomach, and being choked within an inch of her life haunted her in the darkest hours of the night. But the killing part? She didn’t know why, but… there was something very thrilling about it. She felt like she had power for once in her life and that rush it gave her grew into an addiction.

So now, years after the incident that changed her for good, she continues to hitchhike and waits for someone to step out of line like he did. Only, this time, she had a knife of her own at the ready and she wasn’t afraid to strike.

“Lay my head under the water

Aloud, I pray for calmer seas

And when I wake from this dream

With chains all around me

No, I've never been, I've never been free.”

A/N: Hello, everyone! Meet my darling slasher OC, Samara James! She’s become quite the killer and may be looking to branch out beyond hitchhiking👀 I have been working on this bio for hours because I love her so much! I have a few other posts coming for her, including an “Incorrect Quotes” and a Headcanons post! I hope y’all like her!

I will also be adding her to the OC asks! So, if y’all have questions, she’s now an option!

She’s looking forward to making friends, whether they be slashers or not. Don’t worry, she won’t bite she just stabs and slashes-!

Tag List: @cries-in-latino, @rottent33th, @allthingsblood, @the-pinstriped-hood

Divider by: firefly-graphics

[mortemoppetere]

TIMING: current. PARTIES: @spaceforanother & @mortemoppetere SUMMARY: emilio meets ray's roommate and ray in that order. CONTENT WARNINGS: none.

The news wasn’t something Emilio used to keep up with. Back in Mexico, his mother organized most of the hunts. She was in charge, which meant she was the one who found out what needed killing and decided who was going to kill it. In her absence, Emilio found himself… floundering, sometimes. Unsure what to do, where to go. He knew how to kill, of course, but she’d never taught him how to do much else. It was Rosa who’d been primed to take over the Cortez family when Elena stepped down and with her gone, too, Emilio felt at a loss sometimes. 

But he’d found the news helpful. Once he’d figured out how to do so (okay, with some help from a woman at the library), he’d set up a news alert on his phone. Cases involving mysterious deaths, cases involving people drained of blood, cases where any of the victims or suspects had any kind of involvement or history in Southwestern Mexico… he wasn’t picky with it. It made his phone ping quite a few times a day, thanks to the oddities of Wicked’s Rest, but all it took was one good one to make it all worth it.

And this was a good one.

A string of killings near the college campus, victims drained of blood. It took a little digging, a little investigating, but Emilio had gotten good at that part. In a week, he’d tracked down the perpetrator. In a few days, he’d confirmed the guy’s involvement. And an hour after that, he found himself standing in a goddamn dorm room, stake buried in the chest of a kid who looked twenty-two but was probably twice Emilio’s age. It was an easy job. 

At least, until the door to the dorm room opened just half a second before the vampire exploded into a cloud of dust. 

For a moment, Emilio just stood there. Stake still raised to chest-level, eyes wide and uncertain, stance uneasy. A proverbial deer in the headlights, he stared at the kid who’d opened the door, key still in hand. This wasn’t ideal, was it? He needed to say something. Something to smooth this over.

“Guess you’ve got a single room now.”

…No. He needed to say something better than that.

—

College was so weird to Ray. He’d thought he would be well suited to it, but the reality was that he’d had to go outside and look at the clouds and evaluate what he was doing with his life. Was being a meteorologist worth studying until dawn and eating more instant noodles than any man was expected to survive? People paid for that kind of thing…HE was paying for that kind of thing. After telling the clouds exactly what he thought about that, and about the test he had the next day, he’d started to wander back to his dorm room. 

A yawn escaped him as he drew close to his room. God he hoped his roommate was asleep…or maybe out would be a better hope. Ray had barely ever caught them sleeping this late at night, must be nice to be a night owl like that. 

His mind stuttered to a halt as the door swung inwards. 

His mouth opened as the dust started to settle into the carpet, eyes glued to the stranger in horror. It was inexplicable, he couldn’t have just seen his roommate burst into dust like that. He was dreaming again right? Another night terror to reminisce about in class tomorrow. Right?

Colour drained from his face “What… who…?” He took a step backwards back out of the door, bumping into the door with a thump as it had swung closed behind him. 

—

Shit. This was bad. Strangely, Emilio found himself wishing the kid entering the room now were undead. At least if that were the case, he’d be able to bank on him understanding what was going on here. But the slayer senses that informed Emilio when something undead was near lay silent now, and the pounding of the kid’s heart was so damn loud that it left little room for doubt. This kid was definitely alive, probably human, and absolutely not prepared to watch his roommate explode into dust. And Emilio’s dry humor, while potentially funny to someone with more understanding of the situation, probably hadn’t done much to comfort this particular kid.

Hesitantly, Emilio stepped forward just as the kid stepped back, the door closing as it was bumped. Probably better that way. If he could explain this before the kid ran down the hall screaming, he could avoid having a police sketch of him floating around news stations. 

“Muy bien, ahora, no voy a hacerte daño. You don’t have to panic, okay? I won’t hurt you.” He was sure it didn’t sound particularly convincing, coming from a man who’d just turned this kid’s roommate into dust. “Just — Let me explain. Okay?” Which meant he had to figure out how to explain. 

Maybe he should just convince the kid to stake him. It’d be easier.

—

Just recently, Ray was finding himself in some sort of horror show. If it wasn’t nightmares of a small girl who terrorized his dorm room, it was somehow getting worse…with a stranger standing in the middle of the same dorm room holding a weapon of some kind. His roommate was a haze of dust in the air, drifting towards him due to the breeze from the open window. It was difficult for him to comprehend -but with his mind and his heart racing as it was- it was all starting to get much clearer.

He almost wanted to push himself into the wood of the door when the stranger took a step forward. The hinges creaking behind him and giving this urge away completely. 

“Why?” Ray managed to choke out. “Where’s…the body?” It was so hard to understand. Things in this town made no sense, he was really starting to regret coming here. It had been such a good idea to get out of his family home, such a wonderful idea to get very far away from all the bad feeling he’d been amassing in his hometown. He’d wanted the distance, he’d needed the distance. But the cost was really proving to be a lot. “Are you real?”

—

The kid was staring at him like he was a second away from passing out, and Emilio wasn’t really sure what to do here. He didn’t want to scare the kid. Hell, the whole reason he’d come here tonight was to protect kids from the vampire he’d just finished staking, but that was going to be a little hard to explain to the dead guy’s roommate. Hey, sorry I stabbed your roommate, but if it makes you feel any better, he was an undead blood-sucking serial killer who was taking out a whole shit ton of your classmates at night was a fine statement in theory, but something told him it wouldn’t go over well here.

Realizing he was still holding his stake, Emilio shoved it into his pocket in an attempt to set the kid at ease. Considering doing so rustled the other items in said pocket enough to cause the faint sound of metal blades bumping against one another to fill the tense air in the room, it probably didn’t do him much good.

“Look, kid, he wasn’t — Your roommate, he was… not good, ¿sí? I just had to stop him from hurting more people. The body…” God, he’d never actually had to explain this shit to anyone before. He’d always known there were people out there who didn’t know about the supernatural, of course, but he’d never been in this situation before. And it was a damn shitty situation. He’d like to be out of it. 

So… maybe he got a little overeager when the kid unknowingly handed him an out. Are you real? It was a shitty move, but Emilio shook his head quickly. “No,” he said decisively. “No, I’m not. You fell asleep, ¿sí? You were tired. Passed out in your bed, had a weird dream. That’s all it is.”

—

It was almost comical how the stranger belatedly tried to conceal the weapon he’d been holding. In his state of almost panic Ray even let out a huff of hysterical laughter very poorly concealed. The sound of metal cut that short however as he sucked in a sharp breath. He had no time to fall to pieces like that. Get it together…should I run?

The explanation was stilted and hard to follow. The stranger said almost nothing of substance with it that Ray could really wrap his head around. “Hurting people?” Even as he asked his hands were trembling, pressing flat against the door behind himself and fumbling for the handle. It was time to go, time to run, time to not be discussing these things with a murderer…or… he thought a murderer… with no body it was hard not to believe it wasn’t another horrifying dream.

“Nightmares assure you you’re awake, you know… they always let you know theirs is reality and there’s no escape.” It was something Ray knew for a fact. He whipped around and pulled the door open with all his strength, he stubbed his toe on the edge as he took off out and a resounding “fuck” sounded down the otherwise quiet hallway. 

—

“Yes! Yes, hurting people. I wouldn’t —” Well. He couldn’t claim he wouldn’t have done it if the vampire weren’t hurting people without being a liar, could he? Though Emilio preferred to go after active threats, but there were always exceptions to that rule. Anyone who’d been involved in the massacre in Mexico, for example, was going to die regardless of why they’d been involved or what they’d done since. But in this case? The kid’s roommate was a threat. He probably would have killed this kid eventually, too. If anything, Emilio had saved him.

But the kid clearly didn’t see it that way. His eyes were wide and afraid, and he was looking at Emilio like he was the monster here. Which, all things considered, might have been fair. It was hard to trust a guy who’d just turned your roommate into a pile of dust. Emilio half wondered if he ought to offer to sweep it up, just to smooth things over.

“Okay, then you’re awake. Jesus, what do you want from me?” Before the question could get a response — if there had been any planned at all — the kid was turning and sprinting down the damn hall. Emilio groaned, throwing his head back and letting out an impressively long string of curses before following. He was getting real damn tired of having to chase people all the time. “Look, kid, we gotta talk about this!”

—

It was one thing after another in this damn place. Toe throbbing painfully after being jammed in the door on his exit, he hobbled for a moment before catching his stride and thundering down the hall. Ray could hear the stranger calling after him, and then the footsteps that said the chase was on. He didn’t quite know what to do. Everyone was asleep and he didn’t want to potentially endanger anyone else to whatever had happened to his roommate. 

“Sounds like a fucking TRAP.” he yelled out hitting the door to the stairs with his whole body and slamming it into the wall opposite as he took off down towards the open air. Where Ray was going he had no idea. All the way to the police station? It didn’t sound like a do-able distance. 

He missed a step. Ass over teakettle towards a landing, Ray yelped and hit the floor with a thud. A groan of pain escaped his lips and he raised his hands in defense as his pursuer caught up. “I don’t want to be dust.” he wheezed.

—

The kid wasn’t a particularly quiet runner, and that combined with the foot he’d hit pretty damn hard against the door on his way out made the chase a little more even than it otherwise might have been, in spite of Emilio’s bad leg. The detective couldn’t keep this pace for long, of course, but he had to hope he could outlast the kid long enough to get them to stop and talk to him. He wasn’t trying to traumatize some college student by turning their roommate to dust and then leaving without an explanation. 

“It’s not a trap,” Emilio groaned, and if he weren’t so focused on running he probably would have thrown his hands in the air to display his current level of frustration. Where was the kid hoping to go, anyway? He’d run past plenty of doors that might have served as potential escape routes already, and a stairwell wasn’t exactly the best bet. There was plenty of room for missteps in a place like this.

As if to prove his point, the kid tripped in front of him, tumbling down to the next landing. Emilio picked up the pace, skipping a few steps in a way his knee wouldn’t thank him for later and skidding to a stop beside the kid. His eyes darted up and down the kid’s form looking for obvious injury — blood, bones sticking out, the works — but it looked like he wasn’t badly hurt. Well enough to talk, in any case. “Jesus Christ, I’m not — If I were going to come at you, don’t you think I would have done it in your room? I can’t turn you to dust. And even if I could, I wouldn’t. I don’t just go around…” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he let out a frustrated huff of air through his nose. “No puedo más. Pinche… Look, you hear about people going missing on campus? Disappearing without a trace? That was your old roommate’s handiwork. Okay? I thought, hey, maybe people not disappearing without a trace would be more fun. Make sense?” 

—

He wasn’t bleeding, he wasn’t broken, Ray was simply aching where he lay winded on his back. He didn’t quite know what to think as the other caught up to him. Dazed, he mumbled for a moment just to himself something about ‘dusting like thanos’ before his eyes opened and he looked at his pursuer properly for the second time. The fact that he was being spoken to rather than stabbed didn’t escape his notice, even as he still tried to feebly defend himself from his spot on the floor. “You can’t turn people to dust? But I did see Simon explode right? I’m not imagining that? Are you… do you do illusions too?” His mind lingers on the strange girl that had been popping up in his life now and then -supposedly to simply scare him and eat his food.

“Simon?” It seemed too far-fetched to him at this moment. His roommate hardly even left the room most of the time, how could he be responsible for that sort of thing. Ray had definitely heard of the disappearances, there had been a few PSAs about staying safe and whatever but he’d paid no mind. “What do you mean?”

—

Sharp senses allowed him to pick up on the kid’s quiet mumbles, but not understand them. What the fuck was a thanos? Emilio searched his mind for the translation, but he came up empty. Maybe he’d look it up later, if he remembered… and if he thought he had any shot at guessing how to spell it. For now, though, he had bigger things on his mind. “Not exactly,” he replied, heaving a deep sigh. He wondered if the kid would judge him if he lit up a cigarette here. He wondered if he cared if the kid judged him. 

Sighing again, Emilio decided that if he wanted to get through this conversation without tossing himself down the stairwell, he was going to need something. He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and shoved one between his lips, lighting it up and taking a long drag as the kid questioned him. “Look, kid, I’m just going to come out with it here. Your roommate wasn’t human. That’s why he turned into dust when I stabbed him with a wooden stake, that’s why he was killing your classmates and hiding their bodies in the woods, and that’s why I came here to take care of him. I probably did you a favor. He was going to get hungry enough to take a bite out of you sooner, not later.” 

—

Ray lowered his arms to look at the other better, still partially raised as if he’d be able to stop anything coming for him. He blinked his eyes slowly as the man came into view. “What.” he mumbled blandly. His mind ran through a flipbook of scenarios that would explain why the other was trying to tell him ‘non-human’ was a good explanation. “What do you mean?” This was followed by a shuffling to move back and away from the other man to sit up a bit more and properly try to figure out just what the fuck was happening. “Who are you? Are you serious?”

This man was either out of his mind, or earnestly trying to excuse murder with the absolutely audacious idea that being not human was believable. Ray struggled with himself for another moment. “But how was it Simon? So he’s not human…how do you know something like that about someone? And even then, if he’s an alien or whatever, why is he the one killing people on campus?”

—

The kid was looking at him like he’d rattled off his entire explanation in Spanish instead of English, like he hadn’t caught a damn word of the thing. Emilio bit back another groan, closing his eyes for a moment. Why hadn’t the kid just bought the whole ‘it’s a dream’ explanation? That would have made things so much easier. “I mean what I said,” he bit out, frustration clear in his tone. “And I am serious.” He dodged the ‘who are you’ line of questioning; there was no way in hell he was giving his name to someone who looked about half a second away from calling in the troops on him.

“Me, personally?” Yeah. This was another one that was going to make him sound crazy, wasn’t it? Better to sidestep the whole ‘I’m a vampire slayer with the genetic ability to sense the undead’ explanation until the kid stopped looking at him like he’d sprouted an extra head. “I have my ways. I’ve been looking into your roommate for a while now. To make sure he was the one doing the shit he was doing.” That much was true, at least. Emilio might have a habit of making himself judge, jury, and executioner, but he did just about everything he could do to make sure the ‘executioner’ bit only came to those who’d earned it. “As for why he was killing people… It’s like I said. He wanted a food source. And, I don’t know, some of them start to like it.”

—

“So you’re the police? No…the police don’t do murders I think? The FBI…no?” Ray was so beyond confused and full of conspiracy theories just recently he even threw out “The illuminati probably.” His conclusion was mumbled to himself more than looking for validation. The illuminati would never admit to something like that after all. It was supposed to be a secret sort of thing after all.

Ray looked up at the other man in horror. “He was a cannibal?” His stomach lurched at the thought. What had been in his roommate's mini fridge? He had always been a bit more hard to pin down to have lunch with. Ray had just assumed it was something to do with him, people tended to have the urge to stay away from him when he lived back home so he’d thought nothing of it. He felt so uneasy at the reveal of this information about his roommate, or he supposes his ex-roommate. It didn’t explain how he’d turned to dust rather than fallen down dead, but his brain was getting a bit fried at the moment. 

—

Despite his general distaste for law enforcement, Emilio was almost tempted to back the kid’s theory that he was a cop. But it was clear that the kid figured it was unlikely pretty much as soon as he said it, and that wasn’t really a claim Emilio particularly wanted to make, anyway. He had no idea what the illuminati was, but he probably didn’t want to be associated with them, either. He sighed, taking another long drag of the cigarette and just staring at the kid.

And then came the horror. Technically speaking, the kid’s roommate hadn’t been a cannibal — vampires only drank human blood, which probably didn’t quite count as cannibalism — but it was a close enough explanation, and Emilio could tell that attempting to give the kid the truth wasn’t going to get him anywhere any time soon, so… “Yeah. He was a cannibal. You look in his fridge, I’m guessing you’ll find a lot more blood than you’ve got in yours. You’re better off, okay? Like I said, he wouldn’t have been able to hold out much longer without coming at you, too.”

—

It was a harrowing thought. One that Ray wasn’t ready to start to think about in true depth, the surface level of the idea was enough to send him spiraling. Thinking through all the interactions he’d had with his roommate it did sort of make him wonder how he’d not noticed how chill with his own slightly strange way of working that Simon had been. He was deathly silent for a whole minute, just looking up at the man. He’d been living with a murderer that ate people. What the fuck even was his life. 

“What do I do now, do you tell the college? Do the police know? Do I have to go back there? God I don’t want to go back and live there. What happened to his, his...body…” the dusting of his cannibal roommates body was disturbing but -perhaps a little selfishly- Ray wanted to know what HE was supposed to do moving forward rather than dwell on that little fact. He felt so unsafe. Wrapping his arms around his legs he held himself back from being a terrified cliche and rocking back and forth. “What do I do now?”

—

There were a lot of questions being thrown his way, and Emilio wasn’t exactly equipped to handle any of them. “You don’t have to go back there if you don’t want to,” he offered, because that one seemed simple enough. The kid could find another place to live. The dorm room seemed pretty shitty, anyway. “Or I can find you another roommate.” That should be simple enough to do, too. There had to be somebody looking. Somebody alive, not undead and bloodthirsty. 

He did feel a little bad for the whole thing. Not for killing the vampire — that had to be done, and a lot of people were safer for it — but for the kid witnessing it. Emilio was assuming that this had been his first introduction to the oddities of Wicked’s Rest, somehow, and it wasn’t exactly a nice first impression to have. Sighing, he rubbed at the back of his neck and shrugged. “I can’t tell you what to do now. Whatever you want. Have something to eat, maybe, I don’t know.” He offered a hand to help the kid up, figuring it was probably the least he could do, at this point.

—

Ray took the offered hand hesitantly. As much as the worst kind of dot to dot had connected up revealing the truth about his cannibal roommate, he was still unsure about the intentions of the man in front of him. But he allowed the other to wrench him to his feet and he wobbled on the spot a little once he had a footing. Was this man really doing this for good reasons? He’d murdered his roommate after all. That was maybe some illuminati shit, but probably more along the lines of “Batman or something.” he mumbled to himself gathering his thoughts. 

His body was still trembling. Even as he took a few steadying breaths. “Eat haha yeah sure.” he replied in a higher pitched voice than even he himself had expected. He coughed lightly and closed his eyes. “It’s fine. This is fine. It’s always fine. I’m fine.” Ray chanted softly. Nodding he took one final deep breath, his fingers curling into a fist on either side of him. “Okay, uh…yeah I’ll uh…I’ll figure it out. I- yeah. I’ll manage.” he informed the other, not even sure if the man cared one bit but trying not to think too deeply. He was used to people not particularly caring about him; he always just carried on regardless. “I uh, for running. I’m…sorry?”

—

All right, so maybe the kid wasn’t in the mood for a snack after learning his roommate ate a few of his classmates. Emilio eyed him warily, unsure if he believed the mantra of ‘it’s fine’ that seemed to spill from his lips. In his experience, someone saying things were fine that many times in a row was anything but. But what the hell was he supposed to do about it? He couldn’t undust the vampire in the dorm room, wouldn’t particularly want to even if it were possible. And convincing the kid that nothing had happened obviously wasn’t going to work, so… He’d just have to choose to believe him. The kid said he was fine, he was fine. Emilio couldn’t really afford for him to be anything else.

“All right,” he agreed with a nod. “Great. Don’t worry about it. You were a bad runner, anyway.” It was supposed to be a joke though, with Emilio’s characteristic dry monotone, it was difficult to pick up on it. Patting the kid on the shoulder he nodded. “Uh… Finish your homework. Whatever. I gotta go.” 

Yeah. Maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t made it to this stage of fatherhood. He was pretty sure he fucking sucked at it.

[clowngags]

The Joker’s Origin && Her Relationship with Batman

A lot of people ask me about my thoughts on who the Joker was before she was the Joker, and my answer to that is twofold: Firstly, I think what people want out of this question is to unmask Joker, to reveal her humanity in a way that would take power away from the idea of the Joker, which is the reason V never removes his mask in V for Vendetta– you can’t kill an idea. Ideas are bulletproof. Secondly, I understand that in a superhero genre it’s customary to have a secret identity, but given Joker’s retrograde amnesia, she’s been essentially robbed of hers. She doesn’t know who she was before she was the Joker, which renders that entire personhood ultimately irrelevant to her as she is now. Subsequently, I’m disinterested in revealing any ideas I have regarding whomever Joker used to be before she was Joker.

The Joker was born like Athena, fully grown and aware of the world. She came into existence in a vat of mystery acid in an Ace Chemical plant, and her first memory is being fished out of this vat by the Batman– which, without context, is kind of a terrifying first memory. She doesn’t remember it well. Her first clear memory is waking up in the hospital. No one was able to identify her or explain how she came to be in Ace Chemical, and obviously Batman isn’t available for comment. I’ve written a separate but relevant headcanon previously about Joker having toxic encephalopathy resulting in various symptoms and health problems, all of which she was experiencing acutely in the hospital while doctors asked her a million questions she had no answers to. She has no idea who she is, where she lives, or who her emergency contact is.

Following an arduous recovery, the hospital releases her with anti-seizure meds and a huge medical bill. Joker has no identity, no money, no place to go, and no one to turn to. From the second she left that hospital, she was homeless and in tremendous debt. Not only that, but she was obviously bleached, and her albino-like appearance was extremely off-putting for others, making it difficult for her to make friends or form allies. Life in Gotham has never been easy, even if you’re the Waynes, you could get shot point blank outside the opera house, so for a homeless outcast, life was intense, merciless, and increasingly violent. In order to survive, Joker had to toughen up and toughen up quickly.

One can see direct parallels between Joker’s general psychology and this time period in her life: the all-importance of power and control, the unwillingness to ever be a victim again or to be powerless or at someone else’s mercy, and the idea that she owes the world nothing. Joker learned to fight and steal when the stakes were basically to learn this and learn it well, or you go hungry and can’t defend yourself. All the while, she’s increasingly isolated and coping with brain damage, so she’s strongly motivated to apply all of her intelligence and ruthlessness toward becoming an accomplished criminal and manipulating others into helping her. As soon as she makes any headway, she starts hearing about a masked vigilante called the Batman who is beating the shit out of anyone trying to commit crime in Gotham City.

Joker knows that she is supposed to fear Batman, she’s aware that others fear him and that she should fear being caught by him, and she resents the hell out of this, just as she resents any fear in general (or any other emotion that attempts to control her). The stronger she becomes, the more traction she gets in the criminal world, the more settled she is in her new identity– that of the Joker, in which she uses her physical deformity to channel fear in others, and also uses it as a tool to help others underestimate her. She is building this concept from nothing, and sees Batman as her only link to a past she doesn’t know or understand, which is extremely disturbing to her. She knows she literally would not exist if he hadn’t pulled her out of that acid bath, but she also has no context or explanation for that memory. Furthermore, she’s afraid to even ask about it (although she would never admit it) because she’s afraid to know who she was before she became the Joker. There is an identity crisis there where the thought of being someone else before being the Joker directly  threatens her current sense of identity and self because she is only able to build the concept of the Joker specifically because she lacks any societal ties (no family, no teachers, no friends), and therefore has nothing anchoring her to reality.

This means that Joker’s first connection with Batman is one based in fear: the fear that Batman represents, the threat to herself and others like her, and the fear of herself and her true identity. Confronting Batman is a surrogate for confronting Joker’s fears, and in that confrontation, she finds something that she can respect: another psycho acting out of the courage of his own convictions. The more he doubles down on his pseudo-noble nonsensical bullshit, the more Joker wants to challenge and derail those beliefs, to see how tightly he holds onto them. If he had buckled and realized his own folly, she could have dismissed him outright, but it is his firm belief that what he is doing is not only necessary but compulsory that really fascinates Joker. She respects his commitment and therefore sees him as the only real force in Gotham City to contend with, the only real equal she has.

Secondarily to his ties to her identity-related fears, Joker also recognizes that Batman essentially birthed her, and therefore blames him for her own pain-filled existence– which is reason number two that she would never let him die, and why she would certainly never kill Batman herself. She wants to punish him for bringing her into the world and for simultaneously making it impossible to live through his crusade to fight the disenfranchised for just trying to get by however they can, and on a more personal level constantly getting in her way. Letting Batman die at any given time would still be too quick for Joker because her goal is to inflict the maximum possible amount of pain on him, to torture him slowly. To her, death would be an escape she can never allow him. So long as she has to live her own tortured existence, so must the Batman. For her, it is a kind of suicide pact, or perhaps even the opposite of that.

[holden-norgorov]

Ranking the SCREAM Movies

I've just finished rewatching all the franchise in order so I'm making this ranking with all the movies fresh in my mind. The ranking is from worst to best.

6. SCREAM (2022).

This was by far the easiest to place because it's the closest the franchise has ever been to making a bad movie. I wouldn't necessarily call it a bad film per se, but in my opinion it ranks below the rest by a significant degree. The opening scene is the least interesting and most predictable out of all the movies: it lacks the power and iconic status of the first, the fun and insightful commentary of the second, the stakes of the third (due to the direct involvement of a character the audience is already familiar with), the unexpected meta subversion of the fourth and the experimental fake Ghostface of the sixth. Jenna Ortega does a good job acting-wise, but it's clear early on that all the scene wants to do is to requel-ize the original Scream opening. This severely strips the scene of suspense and provides nothing in its place that is able to truly hold the audience's attention in a similar way to how all the other five movies manage to. The peculiarity of the scene ends up steming from the fact that the person supposed to be the original victim (Tara) actually survives the attack, but the effectiveness of the twist is delayed because the audience is obviously revealed that once the opening scene is over.

This is also the worst movie out of the bunch acting-wise. Melissa Barrera is really unconvincing in most of the movie to the point of being almost hard to watch, particularly in the first half. The entire new supporting cast is lukewarm at best and doesn't seem to be comfortable in handling typical Scream banter, with many one-liners and puns not landing at all due to failure of delivery. I couldn't really say whether several lines don't land because the script is sub-par or because the main cast does a pure job bringing it to life, but that's still the result. The tear-filled infodump Samantha provides to Tara when the movie has barely started is really disappointing and arguably the worst scene in the entire movie. Not only does the scene feel misplaced (you can't expect your audience to be able to buy a moment like that so early on with new characters - we have known Sam and Tara for twenty minutes, so the emotional investment that kind of scene is supposed to inspire completely falls flat), but it's also very poorly delivered and, strictly quality-speaking, a betrayal to the original Scream, where Sidney's background and connection to a previous Woodsboro murder was carefully revealed to the audience through bits and pieces by different characters in a very intelligent manner. Here instead we have a huge exposition from Amber to everyone else about Sam and Tara's relationship, and another huge exposition from Sam to Tara about her true origins. Neve Campbell as Sidney feels also way less invested in the story than ever before: she doesn't even shed a tear for Dewey's death, which I find rather odd (you could argue that a lifelong exposure to constant death, trauma and inability to discern who to trust could have bolstered her to the point of self-protective stoicism, but I still think such a pivotal moment as the death of one of the Core Three who had been a main character for five movies merited a more weighful reaction from the iconic protagonist of the franchise). Instead, we just get a quick acknowledgement, and by the very next scene Sidney and Gale are back to a rather forced and forceful banter that almost makes it look like parody.

Last thing I'm going to mention is the new characters. This is the area where I think it's more evident that the script has also to be somehow at fault. Every character here feels incredibly generic. It's not that they are not given enough screen time to develop some kind of personality, it's just that the movie doesn't seem interested in providing it. Compare the general hallowness and vagueness of each new character here (including those who are going to become the new main characters of the requels, particularly Tara, Mindy and Chad) with how the way less important and more decorative characters were written, for example, in Scream 3. Sarah Darling was dead in the first quarter of the movie, and yet in a couple of brief scenes she had more depth and texture than almost everyone acquires here in the entire length of the movie. Same thing could be said about Scream 2's CC Cooper. Here instead we have a very long scene preparing us to the murder of Wes, but we know basically nothing of him, and our investment in his survival is severely compromised as a result. Same thing goes for Stu Macher's nephew, who is literally just a caricature. The killers' motive is also a bit underwhelming and feels very much like a meta excuse to bring the franchise back to life with a new generation. I also think it's hilarious that the villains complain about the Stab movies needing new material and about how stupid and disappointing is for Stab 8 to decide to call itself like the original movie (as a requel could never beat the original, as they say)... within a movie that's supposed to be called Scream 5 but instead labels itself as another original Scream. It's hilarious not because it lacks self-awareness (it obviously doesn't), but because the entire meta commentary ironically falls short due to this requel proving that its villains are correct - as Scream (2022) doesn't even come close to Scream, and fails at most of what made the first instalment of the franchise so great.

Not everything's bad, though. There are things I like about this movie, although they are few and far between. Samantha being Billy's illegitimate daughter is actually a brilliant way to revitalize the franchise without betraying the essence of the saga, because it provides believability to the establishment of a requel by still tying up with not only Scream, but Scream's own prologue (Maureen Prescott's death). This provides a valid reason for the franchise to continue existing and to even evolve in something possibly unforeseen, without it being contradictory or turning itself into something completely different than what it was always supposed to be about. Although I have to say, Sam having mind conversations with an astral projection of Billy is a bit weird and I don't think works remotely as well as Sidney's own allucinations of Maureen that she experienced during Scream 3. The meta scene at Martha Meeks's house works well enough as long as you keep in mind that, in universe, real-life events surrounding Ghostface attacks have given rise to a long-lasting Stab franchise that is thematically equivalent to Scream. This does provide the characters with the ability to analyze their lives and experiences as they were pieces of cinema without incurring in suspension of disbelief from the audience, or turning "too meta". The characterization of Dewey and Gale's relationship as being strained by divorce is completely believable and a very good narrative choice, and the twist about Sam actually having freed Tara that comes up at the climax is successful - mainly because it's the first real taste we have of Sam's potential and badassery as a protagonist.

Overall, it's not that bad. There are a lot of things I don't like, but also a handful that I really like and think live up to what came before. But I can't say the movie ever escapes the state of mediocrity.

5. SCREAM VI (2023).

Now it starts to become difficult. I was torn between three different instalments for this position, as they basically rank at the same level in my mind, but I ultimately decided to go with Scream VI. Overall, there's very little here that doesn't work, and I find this "sequel of the requel" a gigantic step-up from its predecessor in pretty much every aspect I can think of. The opening scene sets itself apart from what came before by luring us to believe that we might get a Ghostface POV firsthand and proceed with it through the movie, thereby instantly awakening an additional level of curiosity in the audience towards what's happening. The entire cast seems much more at ease with their characters and the rhythm of the franchise, with Melissa Barrera particularly showcasing a definite improvement in the acting compartment. Unlike Scream (2022), each character now gets a specific voice and personality that is able to escape caricatureness and enter into personhood. The group dynamic is also definitely felt way more, with "The Core Four" being given enough material to finally merit the viewers' emotional investment in their characters.

Another upside of the movie lies in the little moments of exchange between characters that help to build up the main relationship between Sam and Tara - I'm thinking about scenes like that between Sam and Gale, or Tara and Kirby. Sam and Tara face a character development of their own that is clear, well-written and aptly executed. The writing is definitely much more Scream-like than what we were given in the previous movie, despite its occasional overindulgence in meta territory that in my opinion sometimes takes it too far. The kills are by far the most graphic of the entire franchise right along with the ones shown in Scream (2022). Some of the sequences of this movie are also among the best of the saga when it comes to suspense, particularly the ladder escape scene and the subway scene, with a honorable mention to the Gale apartment scene. The phone call between Gale and Ghostface is terrific and fully manages to capitalize on the fans' attachment to the only present member of the original three in order to build an amazing sequence, where the killer both taunts her about Dewey and provides meta reference to Gale's recurring role as Sidney's shadow and failing opportunity to turn herself into an iconic Ghostface. It's an exploitment of the original trilogy in the best possible way. Another huge positive is the killer's fake lair with all the iconic evidence from the previous murders, because of how fucking cool it was to see that tapestry of Woodsboro history and all the memories it brought back up - it helped providing an additional sense of realism, and therefore enhanced the viewers' investment in the entire universe even more. Sam's complicated relationship with her father's influence on her self-perception as a possible future killer is incredibly fascinating to watch unfold and I'm very curious to see where it's going to lead (I predict a future final instalment with Sidney vs. Sam aka Ghostface). The conspiracy theory idea was also brilliant both on a narrative standpoint and on a meta commentary standpoint on the way modern technology lends itself to easily manipulate truth and spread falsehoods like a virus in the virtual public square. I also appreciated Kirby's comeback, even though her characterization seemed a bit off compared to Scream 4 - but people change and it's been twelve years, so I give it a pass.

So... why am I ranking this at fifth place out of six, if there's so much I like and think of as improved compared to the requel that came before it? Well, for a couple of reasons mostly. First one is, obviously, the Ghostfaces of this movie. This sequel of the requel attempts once again to live up to the sequel of the original, this time by replicating the killers' motive, but once again it lands nowhere near Scream 2. And that's probably Scream (2022)'s own fault more than it is this movie's, but that's the way it is. In Scream 2, Mrs. Loomis's motive was layered and incredibly complex given the little screen time that was allowed her upon her reveal. Yes, she wanted to avenge her son's death at the hands of Sidney, not differently than how Richie's family is trying to do the same exact thing in this movie against Sam - but what Scream VI lacks is the additional level of background that informed pretty much everything surrounding Sidney and all the Ghostfaces in the original trilogy. Mrs. Loomis was also a victim of marital infidelity because of Sidney's own mother, and an argument could be made that she was also after some posthumous forgiveness from her son regarding her own abandonment of him upon her discovery of said adultery. In a very brief scene the audience was provided plenty of reasons to speculate on how and why Nancy Loomis was on a killing spree and was specifically targeting Sidney. Here instead, the only motive we get is a clear-cut, old-fashioned revenge story - but it lands very clumsily, given the fact that Richie's own motive was never about some perceived harm perpetrated against him at the hands of Sam, but only about his own disappointment at Stab's decrease of quality. While it becomes quite easy to get why Mrs. Loomis would go to such lengths to target Sidney, it is rather hard for me to wrap my head around an entire family turning psychopathic in order to avenge the death of someone who, as far as we know, didn't even have any kind of traumatic past and just went on a killing spree because he was pissed at the movies, targeting Sam not because of personal vendettas but simply because of who her father was. It's a downer, and it makes it very hard for me to buy this movie's Ghostfaces, especially given how vicious their kills are. It ends up just being not that interesting and not that believable either, making Scream VI by far the entry of the franchise with the worst Ghostfaces.

And secondly, there are multiple instances, throughout the movie, where my suspension of disbelief is significantly tested. How is Quinn able to steal the knives and allow another Ghostface (presumably Ethan) to enter her own apartment without anybody else noticing? How come is Ghostface so slow at moving a fairly small cabinet that was only partially blocking a door no one was holding close, taking so much time that Mindy is able to cover the entirety of the ladder, and Anika, who is severely wounded at the abdomen, about half of it? How is Detective Bailey able to swap Quinn's body with a fake and circumvent forensic analysis? How is Gale able to find Greg and Jason's lair? (I mean, that's not hard to guess, but my complaint is that we are not allowed to see the process of discovery. If this was happening in the original trilogy, we would have been shown Gale finding the place, not just told as much and asked to take the information for granted.) And how is all that evidence been able to slip out of police archives unnoticed? I get that Bailey is a detective, but we are not talking about a couple of pieces of evidence. We are talking about the entire thing, including all the original Ghostface costumes and masks used by the actual killers. It's just too much. And finally, how is that the plot armor seems particularly evident in this movie? Chad survives something like 10+ stabs to the chest and abdomen. Tara is able to keep on fighting despite being stabbed at the back and at the abdomen as well. I get that adrenaline effect is powerful, but she also has an entire conversation with Sam showing no signs of distress, and what should be a copious amount of constant bleeding doesn't seem to do anything more than stain her clothes, and then just... stops by itself? Let me get this straight: I'm usually not that interested in focusing on these kinds of plot-holes in a Scream movie, and I'm sure each one of them has some questionable moments when it comes to credibility. But this movie is the only one where these kinds of plot-holes were so recurring to the point of being impossible not to see, and therefore for them not to affect my suspension of disbelief.

All things said, though, this is a very solid movie, and a definite step-up from the previous. By no means it is bad, or even mediocre.

4. SCRE4M (2011).

This definitely caught me by surprise because Scream 4 is, in a very similar way to (I suspect) most of the fans of my generation, the movie that started it all for me, other than probably the first horror movie I have ever seen. It not only encouraged me to experience the previous three movies and catch up with what came before it, but also to dive into the horror genre as a whole, kicking out some sort of passion towards horror cinema that still persists in me nowadays. I've always held this instalment in high regard, partly because of my attachment to it and his status as personal gateway to the franchise, and it's only throughout this last full rewatch session that it found itself slightly losing ground on my ranking, ending up in fourth position.

The beginning of the movie is, in my opinion, a brilliant way to summarize what Scream is about and to re-capture the attention of an audience that hasn't been fed Scream material for more than a decade, while simultaneously taking the viewers by surprise and reminding them of the importance of metatextuality for this franchise. It cleverly reminds us of the existence of Stab in such a way as to force us to peel back to the raw material like an onion is opened and reached at its core through layer and layer. We are reminded that Stab is an on-going franchise, partly fictional, partly inspired by books written by Gale Weathers, which are based on real-life events the writer herself has been repeatedly implicated in, which happen to constitute the plot of the previous Scream movies. The reason why it works is because it pays homage to the iconic opening of the original trilogy while subverting it at the same time, only for later on to betray that very subversion with an updated reiteration of the same scene, providing a modernized commentary on how the evolution of technology since the previous instalment is equipping psychopaths with newer, more subtle ways to subdue their victims and carry out their crimes. I think this scene works perfectly to re-open the Scream experience after so long - way better than what Scream (2022) ends up doing after a comparable time jump.

Overall, I have next to nothing about this movie to complain about. Sidney's character development as the writer of a self-healing book is completely believable and provides new interesting ways of enriching her dynamic with Gale, who is both envious of her for a variety of reasons but also uncertain about the kind of person she herself has become. Is she still the ruthless, shameless journalist of ten years ago who would have exploited even tragedies sorrounding her loved ones to bolster her career prospects, or is she a depressed writer falling into obscurity after deciding to give up her work for love? The movie shows that she is a combination of both. Seeing Dewey as the new Woodsboro sheriff and the way he handles the conflict of interest with his wife, all while indulging the obvious flirting of deputy Judy, provides fertile ground for their future divorce while simultaneously feeling like a natural progression from the last movie, or a very likely an IC route that their marriage could have easily embarked on. The new generation of characters is also well-written, with an interesting and believable dynamic and mostly fleshed-out personalities, with maybe the exception of Trevor and, shockingly, Jill herself, who for most of the movie comes out as suffering from the Main Character Syndrome (i.e. she is written mostly as a blank slate so that most people can project their own personality onto her, thus easily identifying her as the character through which to experience this new Woodsboro). However, what could be seen as a writing flaw turns into a solid strength when it is revealed that Jill was, in fact, Ghostface, and therefore that the personality she showed the viewers was mostly, if not entirely, a deliberate act on her part aimed at tricking them into thinking she was the next Sidney in line.

Speaking of which, the best aspect of this movie is precisely the worst aspect of Scream VI: Ghostface. For starters, the idea of revitalizing the saga by having Ghostfaces decide to actually film the murders to make their own movie is genius and a perfect way to make us feel the passing of time from the first three movies. That said, both Charlie and Jill's reveals are pretty awesome, to the point that they are arguably the best reveals of the franchise. Of course, Jill's mastermind plan and ability to completely subvert the audience's expectations takes the cake, but it would be a mistake to overlook Charlie's own very effective and subversive twist, aimed at mimicking Steven Orth's death and turning it on its head. Jill's speech to Sidney about growing in her suffocating shadow and being the product of a generation of fakeness and virtuality that needs fans as opposed to friends, with another twist that shows her exploitation of Charlie's romantic feelings to turn him from a possible Randy to Trevor's Stu and her willingless to play proto-Amy Dunne and cover herself in self-inflicted scars to build up a heroic story, is incredibly poignant and utterly satisfying to watch. So is Jill's own cruelty and cold-blooded apathy at the hospital, where she manages to almost incapacitate four people, three of which are the historical main characters of the original trilogy, before stumbling on a very rewarding and effective death by defibrillation. And the finale scene of the movie, with the audience staring into her lifeless eyes while the journalists outside the hospital award her with the final-girl hero status she so desperately craved, is fantastic.

So why is this movie in fourth position? Because here and there there are some things I think could have been done better. I ultimately think the pacing drags a bit when the movie stops to focus on minor characters that are ultimately not that likable or not developed enough to be interesting to follow or to witness being killed, such as (respectively) Sydney's publicist Rebecca, or Perkins and Hoss. There's the wasted potential of a conversation between aunt Kate and niece Sidney about Maureen that sadly never takes place. There's the questionable acting of Marielle Jaffe as Olivia that fortunately doesn't last long. And maybe most importantly, there's the fact that everything that Jill herself does at the hospital in the last scene, upon discovering of Sidney's survival, ultimately disintegrates her entire plan up to that point and inevitably taints the story she wishes the world would be told, regardless of whether her secondary attempt at killing Sidney proves to be successful or not. Simply put, if she could have gotten away with everything she had orchestrated at Kirby's house... she would have never managed to preserve her imaginary status as heroic victim within the public consciousness after confronting a very-not-dead Sidney, even if she had managed to effectively kill her the second time. That makes the entire last scene, though satisfying in many ways, ultimately pointless with respect to Jill's entire mastermind plan, thus losing at least some of the viewers' investment into (and respect for) her character. But that's pretty much it.

All in all, this is a very strong and successful attempt at bringing the saga back to life, with excellent ideas and shocking reveals, a large amount of strengths and very few, almost insignificant weaknesses. And despite falling down a bit in my current ranking compared to the position it used to hold, I still think it's an amazing entry for the franchise.

3. SCREAM 3 (2000).

I think this is by far the most underrated movie in the entire franchise. I know it's a bit divisive, because there's also people who really love it and share my same opinion, but at the same time this is the instalment I find most often at the bottom of people's ranking, and I genuinely don't understand why. There's very little here that doesn't work, and most importantly, it builds on its predecessor with impeccable ability. It's a movie that, from beginning to end, is imbued with a deep sense of finality, with the clear intent of having the story of Sidney Prescott come full circle in a way that truly proves to be successful in selling the idea that the franchise was actually meant to be a trilogy all along (especially because if there's something Scream 2 lacked, was a sense of overarching closure to the entire story). It ties so flawlessly and spontaneously with how Scream 2 had left things that I wouldn't be surprised if it turned out that the second and third entries of the saga were planned simultaneously, and the idea of having the story evolve into a trilogy was entertained even before starting to make a sequel to the successful original Scream.

I find the opening scene of the movie really effective in awakening the audience to the fact that this chapter of the story is meant to be climactic. The stakes are higher than before right from the get-go: Ghostface's first attack is against a main player in the background story of Sidney, other than the very person who saved Sidney from Nancy Loomis at the end of the last movie. In fact, Scream 3 starts by getting rid of the same person that made its entire existence possible in the first place. Ghostface also has voice-changing devices that he exploits to trick Cotton's girlfriend Christine into attacking him, already establishing to the audience that, this time around, an additional level of mistrust and impairment for the heroes to communicate with each other will be in place. The feeling of climactic finality is effectively laid out here, and remains constant through the entire movie.

I know one of the most common complaints about this movie lies in Sidney finding herself out of reach from the main source of the action, the Hollywood set of Stab 3, for a significant portion of the film (about half), but it actually doesn't bother me at all. Her arc through the movie is a perfect continuation to her Scream 2 more secluded, antisocial persona, other than being the exact follow-through solution to her problems she herself proposed to Dewey during the previous film, as soon as Ghostface had reappeared and bogyguards were being given instructions to keep her safe. Other than feeling totally IC, this seclusion plan allows for Sidney to undergo a deeper and richer introspective exploration of the way she has been psychologically scarred by Maureen's death and her own previous victimizations, in such a way as to lead both the character and the audience to understand that a resolutive point is going to come (by the way, having her work as a crisis counselor for women is actually a brilliant narrative choice). I also love the way Roman's Ghostface allows for the movie to play with the idea that Sidney might be actually allucinating her mother, in a not so different way than how Scream 2 never made clear if she was allucinating Ghostface sorrounding her during threatre class or if she was actually being toyed with by him. This ability to play with real-or-not-real is what, in my opinion, makes these kind of PTSD-like allucinations in the original trilogy way more interesting and effective than those Sam suffers from during the requel generation.

Dewey and Gale's relationship likewise seems like a perfect follow-up to the previous movie, with their dynamic feeling like the same while simultaneously changing just as much as to keep it interesting and keep us invested in what's going to happen next between them. The writing of the movie is also really good, and while I don't necessarily agree with those who claim that Scream 3 is tonally different from all the other instalments (I don't find it too light or too funny for its own good, as seems to be the general opinion), I will admit it keeps me highly entertained and consistently amused - almost certainly more than any other entry of the franchise is able to do. Another huge positive for me is the supporting cast. There's a lot of secondary characters here, and they all feel aptly characterized and pleasant to watch. There's never a moment where I'm bored or uninterested in what's happening, or a character that I find too generic and caricatural. The movie also takes advantage of its setting to provide some solid and daring commentary on Hollywood culture, power dynamics and exploitation. I also love that in the same movie where Sidney enhances her isolation to the point of social seclusion she ends up finding her future husband - we don't have much with respect to romantic tension between her and Kincaid, but we have enough to grasp that a mutual fascination is taking place.

The climax of the movie works very well, in my opinion. Sidney shows experience and a renowed sense of badassery that proves to be the culmination of three movies by tricking Ghostface with a double gun and a bulletproof vest. I also like the idea of Ghostface exploiting Dewey and Gale to lure Sidney into the mansion, capitalizing on the audience being finally able to preemptively exonerate them from their suspect lists. And I will say it right here, I'm usually not a fan of retcons at all, because in my opinion it takes a certain kind of talent to be able to pull an effective retcon off - someone like Joss Whedon, for instance. Not many screenwriters are able to do that convincingly. But I think this particular retcon actually works. Both because it is actually cleverly orchestrated and doesn't delegitimaze or confute anything the canon previously established, and because it does provide the ultimate circular closure to the story of Sidney, retroactively lending a justification to her ongoing allucinations of Maureen and her inability to move on and get past her own past. The entire subplot about Maureen having worked as an actress under stage name and about her known promiscuity being the traumatic response of the sexual exploitation she endured during the ‘70s is incredibly fitting and interesting; the twist of Roman being Sidney's half-brother feels merited and credible, and the actual retcon of Roman being behind Billy's discovery of his father cheating with Maureen, which as we know prompted his decision to kill her and then to try to kill Sidney one year later, is actually a very smart narrative choice. And I know the story works because I don't find cringe at all the moment where a filled-with-trauma Sid takes the hand of a seemingly dead Roman, whose own mother's rejection lead him not only down the path of psychopathy but also to find common ground with Billy as well. Everything truly does come full-circle in a way that's commendable.

Why the third position, then? Because there's one scene that I struggle to get behind: the Randy scene. I get the need to have a meta scene to explain to the characters the rules of a horror trilogy, but the idea of Randy having decided before his death on Scream 2 to capture on tape such a discussion just doesn't work. It's silly. It would have been much better if Martha herself had been introduced as a fellow geek and done the explaining herself, in my opinion. I love Randy and was happy to see him again, but that scene is just too much a stretch of credibility for my taste.

Other than that, I think I have nothing else to complain about. I also loved the ending of the movie, with Dewey's proposal to Gale and Sidney finally coming to terms with her past and cutting ties with her self-perception as a constant victim. Perfect.

2. SCREAM 2 (1997).

I think this is an excellent sequel, that in some ways ends up being even an improvement from the original. People often underestimate the importance that a sequel holds in establishing not only the trajectory, but also the very existence of a franchise. If the original movie is good, then a sequel is green-lit; but if the sequel is also good, then the opportunity for a significant expansion of the world is presented, and talks about the creation of an entire franchise start to happen. Just like it was Empire Strikes Back, not Star Wars, that determined the direction and expansion George Lucas's franchise could be able to reach, it's Scream 2 that solidifies the idea that Woodsboro is a place worth revisiting, and our characters are people worth exploring and knowing better. Without Scream there would be no Scream 2, but an argument could be made that without Scream 2 there could be no franchise. This by itself cements the importance of this movie.

I don't think I'll be spending that much time on this. I have next to nothing to complain about. Not only does everything basically work, in many cases it builds on the previous instalment to effectively raise the audience's expectations. The opening scene introduces the metatextuality of Stab to the franchise; it's incredibly fun and suspenseful at the same time, with two iconic kills, some commentary about the tropes found in horror cinema, a subversion of racial expectations and a kind of gimmick that is capable of capturing the full attention of the viewers early on (the woman is named Maureen). The movie is written incredibly well, to the point that I would go so far as to say that it's the best written out of the entire franchise. The film class scene where sequels are discussed is arguably the best and most successful attempt the franchise is able to make at effectively providing meta commentary about the specific instalment it's producing (be it a sequel, a conclusive chapter of a trilogy, a remake, a requel, or a sequel of a requel), because in this case it almost doesn't even feel meta.

Perhaps the biggest accomplishment of this movie lies in the way it's able to take the distinctive character profiles that were introduced in Scream and make fully fleshed-out people out of them, ending up being arguably the best movie for Sidney, Dewey, Gale and Cotton when it comes to characterization. If Scream established that Sidney was a self-described "sexually anorexic" girl with unresolved family trauma and a survivalist attitude likely steming from a coping mechanism, Scream 2 builds on the additional trauma she experienced during the first movie to depict an even more secluded, guarded and mistrustful individual, whose PTSD has significantly increased to the point of genuinely affecting her own day-to-day life, who is somehow shown to be both more afraid (as she knows what Ghostface is capable of this time) and more badass and willing to fight back than she was previously, without it ever seeming contradictory. She is afforded well-executed psychological exploration and many occasions to show mental frailty and inability to cope with her reality of seemingly inescapable victimization, while simultaneously attesting that she has an inner core made of steel and a fiery determination. Between the "I'm a fighter" moment, the "I want to know who it is" moment and the iconic "You forget one thing about Billy Loomis. I fucking killed him" moment, this movie shows Sidney at her lowest and at her highest, and officially turns her into one of the best written female protagonists of a cinematic franchise.

Likewise, if Scream established that Gale Weathers was an unscrupulous, power-hungry journalist who was willing to do anything to advance her career and, while clearly harboring some kind of fascination towards Dewey, was mainly concerned with how to manipulate him to make her job easier, Scream 2 gives her a full character arc, re-acquainting her with the audience with that same archetypal persona but clearly showing that this time (as opposed to last time) she learns something from her experience with Ghostface and undergoes a clear character development, ending the movie prioritizing her humanity and genuine care for Dewey to her conventional opportunism. Dewey also gets to shine through this instalment in a way that was not possible to him before, showcasing the lasting effect of physical scars and a newfound level of maturity and assertiveness that clearly sets him apart from his boyish characterization in the previous movie, highlighting the important role experience and Tatum's death had in accelerating his growth. A honorable mention also goes to Cotton Weary, who goes from being barely a face in the background that fed Sidney's insecurities in Scream to a very interesting and well-written character here that constantly seems to vacillate between hero and anti-hero until the final act.

Scream 2 also features some amazing sequences, mainly Dewey and Gale's chase at the movie archives, Sidney's reharsal in theatre class, the car scene (which has to be the most successfully suspenseful the franchise has ever been) and the entire final act. I've already talked about my opinion on Mrs. Loomis as Ghostface, so here I will just reiterate that I love her. Mickey's motive is definitely banal, but I think it works perfectly as complementary to Billy's mother, who is clearly meant to steal the show. Besides, Timothy Olyphant imbues Mickey's character with gleeful euphoria as well as psychopathy, and Derek's death scene has to be one of the most tragic moments of the entire franchise because of what Sidney's deep-seated traumatic mistrust says about her willingness to risk him being killed. This might be as close an ending to the original movie as there have been in the franchise thus far, with respect to success and effectiveness. It's just an amazing final act.

The only complaint I have about this movie is that, as opposed to what happens in Scream 3, here a lot of secondary, background characters do feel severely underwritten. Derek has a very plain personality, and the cafeteria scene is more cringe than cute on his part (even though I think it was absolutely needed to show Sidney's ability to still enjoy life and not fall into despair). The top chicks of Omega Beta Zeta are so useless I don't even remember their names. Hallie is just kind of there until she isn't. Joel is cool, though.

I've nothing else to add. Amazing sequel. About Randy's death scene I'm just going to say: it was the right call. An effective way to raise the stakes without compromising the narrative too much for its own good.

1. SCREAM (1996).

Of course the one that started it all had to be first. It just occurred to me that this ranking may probably seem incredibly ordinary at this point, but it is what it is.

This is arguably one of the best horror movies ever made. Certainly one of the most iconic, and one of the most capable of exploring an entire generation's relationship with the horror genre, the ongoing and rapid technological development of the modern age and the way society is impacted by it, with a particular emphasis on the existential crisis of the modern man, his constant feeling of dreadful out-of-placeness and the role cultural artifacts play in incentivizing him to consider unhealthy let-outs for his ill approach to life and the world. There's pretty much nothing here that the movie fails at. It features one of the most iconic opening scenes of all time, great characters, an amazing story and fantastic writing. It effortlessly manages to blend horror and comedy together creating a successful mixture of vibes, in such a way as to easily remind me of its contemporary masterpiece that is Buffy The Vampire Slayer. One of my absolutely favorite things about this movie is its ability to allow the full spirit and atmosphere of the ‘90s to manifest on screen and to color the entire story with a specific generational touch that, in my opinion, truly ends up making this one of the most emblematic movies of that decade to ever be produced.

Honestly there's very little else to point out because everything works perfectly. One aspect of the film that particuarly striked me during this latest rewatch is how much Scream actually spends on the subplot regarding Cotton Weary's incarceration being the result of a convinction likely based on erroneous testimony - a testimony at the hands of the daughter of the town's notorious promiscuous woman who was raped and murdered a year before the events the movie focuses on. Sidney's character is incredibly fascinating, has a very interesting and peculiar backstory and makes for a perfectly conceived and very well-written protagonist. Likewise, Billy Loomis makes for at least as alluring an oppositional character, showing his ability to hold his ground against the main heroine in terms of character depth, iconicity and background material. Sidney and Billy, with everything intertwined about their past that comes on the surface during the third act, are by far the pinnacle of the movie with respect to what makes the story fascinating and worthwhile to watch. But every other secondary character is iconic in its own way - Gale, Stu and Randy in particular. The metatextuality is brilliantly executed. Randy's scene on the rules of horror, juxtaposed to Billy and Sidney's sex scene, and his subsequent advice to Jamie Lee Curtis to turn around while Ghostface is right behind him are some of the most memorable moments that helped turning Scream into a cultural milestone of the genre. The entire third act is phenomenal, with Billy's motive being the perfect piece of the puzzle to make the entire story come together fully in a satisfying way, and Stu managing to come off as both terrifying and hilarious in his psychopathy. Sidney in the Ghostface costume will always be iconic. "Not in my movie" will always be iconic.

Overall, there's only praise and absolutely no complaints here on my part, and If I was to pause and analyze everything that I believe makes the original instalment of the franchise the one deserving the first spot, I would end up writing about pretty much every single scene of the movie, and that's beside the point of this ranking.

It's just a masterpiece, and still remains an unicum in the horror landscape to this day. I mean, there's a reason why almost thirty years later an entire franchise based on the success of its formula is still going on, and the fanbase for this movie is still continuing to grow. It's just a classic.

[mahpaiam]

November 26, 2022

I don't know why but I feel so sad today. I feel like everyone is moving around me but I just cannot reach out. I stand stone faced, just listening to all the berating and yelling. It just keeps going and i feel like just a body. I don't know what to do. Some days it just feels like I cannot feel anything and I am just, well, there.

I'm too scared to write down how I feel because God will get mad at me for complaining. I just want to be able to release the emotions in a way that isn't negative and move on. My mom just keeps talking at me and i feel like i'm sinking deeper and deeper into myself when she does.

I pray so much, all the time. I beg, cry, and sending longing looks to the sky. I say new words and phrases, expose more vulnerability. I bleed and I bleed. I don't know what to do. I wish I could stop feeling this way. I just want to stop hurting, and to actually feel something happy.

I'm not looking for a transaction, i just want to feel happy.

I feel like a phony. Someone told me they could see I loved God very much. How could I when all I do is make mistakes? I can't stop making mistakes. I can't stop paying for my mistakes. I'm trying so hard, it feels so unfair when I see others live such happy lives without even trying and I'm sobbing and praying every night for that.

I know God has blessed me indefinitely, but I wish this disease would go away. I want to stop feeling sad. I want my mom to stop yelling all the time at me. I want to exist without every move costing me an arm and a leg. I want to be able to make mistakes and not be reprimanded so surmount-ably. I want to stop feeling so sad.

I want my Mom to stop reading through my diary. I want my privacy to stop being invaded. I want to stop feeling like my diary entries will cost me lots of happiness. I am just venting but it feels like I'm punished after for feeling sad. When will this sadness stop taking me as its victim.

There is a great sadness that exists and lives inside my chest. I don't know how to get it out and I wish it didn't choose me as its final resting place.

I want to be happy so so so bad. I will smile as much as it takes.

There is so much going on in my head and i want this weariness to end.

I know my mom means well. She took 12 units while raising me and two other kids. I should be more grateful. But sometimes I am just so tired of all the criticism. I just want to cry without it costing me. I need something.

Meanwhile, with love, I am so tired. I feel like I am not deserving of being loved by someone, so the thought makes me so tired. I don't feel like I deserve to try, but I just want to be happy. This has happened so many times. I have so much baggage I am scared no one will love me at all. or that they could. I'm scared someone will get tired of all my scheming, all my anger, all my hurt, and just leave. I'm scared I could never find someone who likes me for me, who sees me for me and still does not want to leave. Life will somehow again turn of its lights and lose all meanings. This time for real.

I'm looking at a few things I did in highschool. Music I enjoyed, hobbies I had, activities I did. Man was I sad. I don't think I ever want to be that sad again. That kind of hurt is not something you'd survive for the second time

I have this wild thought of comparison of my life to a tv show with seasons. I'm on the college seasons right now, especially the second year. It's starting to get long and I have a fan base but dwindling viewers. LOL.

Idk, I want to end off on a joyful note. Hopefully, and I say that with the earnest of intentions, I will be happier.

Hopefully Joe and I will be dating... LOL, my parents will be nicer, i get all a's, and I'm much happier with friends..

HOPEFULLY

And also that I'd pray more and have better faith. That's always a hopeful.

[sakurachan7734]

My SCP ocs and fan kids as dead by daylight killers 

Killer: The manipulator/ Aristotle polonoi

Difficulty: moderate 

The manipulator’s backstory

Aristotle polonoi was born in France but moved around about 11 times when they were about 10-11 years old but at the age of 11 they were struck and killed with an axe by somebody who claimed to give them a tour of their new life but their father had brought them back to life and about two months after that happened their second father became a well-known actor which you led to him being known worldwide.

Because them and their family moved so much they kind of resented their parents for it because they were never told what they were running from but when they were 15 they joined a modeling agency and became a famous fashion model. When there were 16, their family moved to California where they found their three boyfriends.

But feeling lonely, incredibly stressed and pressure, depressed and need a break from everything and everyone they turned and got addicted to drugs that they managed to hid from their parents for about five months until their parents found out from their eight year-old sister lavender and sent them to rehab for two months once they got out their parents put them into the therapy for them having a problem about hiding how they feel.

One night they went for a walk after work and took a walk around the city but even though there wasn’t much people Aristotle felt like they were being watched and they tried to run but they felt like somebody follow them and then they felt something grab their leg and drag them off the the realm

The manipulator’s perks

Come dance with me!

You love to forcefully dance with your victims before killing them

After a survivor gets unhooked you’ll be able to see that survivors for 10 aura seconds but the unhook survivor will be able to see your aura for 10 seconds also 

Mind tricker

You are good at manipulation and you take pride in that

Every survivor you injure will see a hallucination of you and after that survivor is healed both survivors will scream revealing their location to you 

Operation murder 

You know how to make murder look accident and you know how to make somebody else kill your target

You start the trial with 8 tokens and every generator you see the or the survivors in your terror medius 

The manipulators power: inky arms

You were born with strange ink like liquid coming out your eyes and nose and mouth and you have the ability to control the liquid by using your hand

This power lets you create inky pools on generators, pallets and windows any survived the interacts with anything covered in your income will become broken and be 15% slower for 1 minute and will be covered in the ink until the survivor finds a bottle of ink remover 

Special item during the trial: ink remover

Bottles of ink remover will be randomly place throughout the map and any survivor covered in the inky substance we have to find one if a survivor doesn’t find ink remover in time they will become injured and if the survivor is injured and they interact with an ink cover object they will become deeply wounded and the killer will get a notification of whatever ink covered object they touched 



The manipulators default cosmetic

Aristotle polonoi masked(head): a child of a famous actor who’s life was cut short but was brought back to life the plague doctor mask obstructing their face 

Unmasked Aristotle polonoi(extra head cosmetic): glasses and very light make up and a nose piercing a very familiar face in the model industry 

Red dress with jacket(body): A knee length red dress with torn suit pants and a cropped jacket the perfect mixture between femininity and masculinity 

Red dress(extra body cosmetic): a beautiful knee length red dress without the cropped jacket 

The spear( weapon): a spear that is almost as tall as them but perfect for long distance hits

Prestige cosmetic 

Bloody Aristotle polonoi(head): fluffy brown and black hair covered in blood

Bloody red dress(body): a dress made by their hand now all wet

The bloody spear(weapon): not the first time this spear was completely covered in blood

Voice lines in lobby

“Ah finally a break from all the paparazzi and mega fans” 

“out of all the things I had on my list today getting kidnapped by fog was not one of them”

“Let the show go on!”

“Good thing my sister didn’t follow me here”

Voice lines when the trial starts

“let’s begin this show!”

Voice lines when hooking a survivor

“Your performance is perfect!”

“Don’t get your blood all over my clothes!”





[bookswagononline]

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[ultraericthered]

Anime Update V3 10

From Me To You - Things are now taking their time, with random fluff and incidents such as Sawako, as her one good deed of the day, sheltering a hilariously ungrateful and angry puppy from the rain, and the dog later gets adopted by Kazehaya. Then there's the start of the new school term where seatings have to be changed via drawing numbers, with almost no one wanting to sit next to, behind, in front of, or across from Sawako. Kazehaya ends up going "fuck it, I'm going to take some initiative here!" and physically moves his table and seat next to Sawako's. Yano, Yoshida, and this guy named Ryuu also sit in that end of the classroom, so I guess this is our main cast. My main takeaway is how our two leads are sort of inversions of one another - Sawako is introverted yet easily lets her emotions show, while Kazehaya is extroverted yet is good at being hard to read.

Hunter x Hunter - The Hunters' assault on the royal palace finally begins and with a great big bang. Netero and Zeno did this huge, shiny strike from the sky and Netero let out a display of his full power that hits Neferpitou, who is miraculously able to survive this. Most of the episode was filled with narration and there's even a glimpse into Netero's backstory for how he attained the strength he has now.

SHUFFLE! - Well on one hand, I've warmed up to Primula enough to give a damn when it's revealed what she really is and the focus gets put on her falling ill and needing to be taken back to the demon world and possibly out of the main casts' lives forever. On the other hand, I'm not sure I welcome this sudden swerve into drama. I'm pretty sure I was expecting it at some point given similar works like CLANNAD, but I was enjoying the fun, breezy and laid-back feel the show had going, and now even the opening card, mid-episode eyecatches, and next episode previews aren't the same as they were before! I'm going to be hopeful that this goes somewhere to make this trade worth it and that the charm doesn't completely fade away.

The Case Files of Lord El-Melloi II - Had a real locked room mystery this time, one set at an estate that holds a magical workshop in the midst of a storm and had to be covered in two episodes rather than one! To make the case stranger, the client has some special eyes that allow him to see and visually communicate with a human-sized fairy that seems to be haunting the place. I loved that Reines actually got to come along in person for this one, as we got to see some good reactive comedy from her and some precious interaction between her and Gray, showing she's got more range to her than simply an evil girlboss. Also got to meet Ms. Hishiri Adashino, who Waver can barely stand, and Kairi Shishigou, a burly, shades and jacket wearing, gun-toting necromacer. Gray is confirmed to have a connection to Saber as she becomes instrumental in the fight against these terrifying black dogs. I think the one part that was iffy for me is that it repeated the "the father is the posthumous mastermind!" twist from Episode 3, only this time there was no actual ghost in the works. But it did lead to us learning of Rail Zeppelin, an underworld group that sells mystic eyes, paving the way for an unfolding story arc.

KonoSuba - The OVA episode was all kinds of priceless, if not a little bit aggrivating at points due to the characters' stupidity. Got to meet Megumin's self-proclaimed rival Yunyun, though the relationship seems to actually be one of a bully and her victim who've become friends/rivals/secret lovers. Her presence at Wiz's shop leads to Kazuma putting on a cursed choker that will drain him of his life unless his heart's wish from when it was first put on is granted. Since Kazuma is the fucking worst, he milks this situation and gets the girls to do whatever he wants them to do, hoping they'll pleasure him enough for it to be considered wish fulfillment. It doesn't pan out, so he has to confess all his sins before he goes, and long story short, he does end up dying again but it's not the choker that does him in.

Symphogear XV - With the main Symphogear girls at the lunar ruins and Shem-Ha planning on using the Curse of Balal to activate Yggdrasil so that she can distort all life on Earth, repopulate it with her own monstrous spawn, and become a true goddess, the final season is at its climax. Tsubasa and Maria work together and put up a great fight against Noble Red, but are too late to stop Shem-Ha from activating Yggdrasil, which is forming towers all over the planet!

Eureka Seven - Aside from some character growth moments for Talho and Holland, and the reassertion of Gecko State's goal, not much happened here! Basically just prepping for the fight ahead.

Gintama - OK, calling this arc "Yakuza VS Aliens" is either the most misleading thing the series could've done or it's secretly genius. The first of the three episodes sees a freak alien parasite running amuck in Edo City and famed alien hunter Umibozu arriving to exterminate it, and in the process talk his daughter Kagura into returning with him to their homeworld. Yeah, he's Kagura's father and there's a more complicated history behind Kagura's clan and why Kagura wanted to break away from it to live a normal, fun life on Earth, Kagura gets more seriously angered than we've seen her get to this point and has a fight against her old man that's settled by Gintoki making a save and....telling Kagura she should leave Earth with her father. He just gives Kagura up and walks away. What in the blazing HELL, Gin?!?