#all these hopes of becoming a hero getting built up then shattered into a million pieces

[smolthealmighty]

I think one of the most heartbreaking headcanons I have is that back when he was growing up in the Shimura house, Tenko got the opportunity to watch one of UA’s sports festivals once when no one else was around or were otherwise occupied (Kotaro being on a business trip and everyone else running errands).

During the tournament portion, he saw how one particular student was able to take away his opponent’s quirks, then beat those opponents using nothing but physical training and good strategy. Watching that student win fight after fight while practically quirkless himself blew Tenko’s mind, because it showed how he could still have a chance at being a hero even if he didn’t have a quirk, he just had to specialize in other ways.

While that student didn’t win the festival, he did manage to make it to third place. And as Tenko watched the student receive his bronze medal, he whispered in awe to the television…

“You’re so cool Aizawa!”

[ofstarsandfireflies]

Alrighty! Another movie down!

Stephen’s never been kissed.

He’s been one to put relationships to the side for the purpose of his career, and ever since he’s become Sorcerer Supreme that hasn’t changed.

Wong might give him shit for it, but Stephen knows there’s someone right for him and he’s not prepared to kiss everyone just to find them.

He is prepared, however, to find a job.

Funds were low and being Sorcerer Supreme didn’t pay at all, so Stephen needs something to keep them alive and fed.

As it turns out, The Daily Bugle would pay for any scoop they get could get their hands on about the Avengers, mostly because the triple J wanted to know why Spider-Man was one and how that had come about.

Gaining access to the Avengers is a lot easier than he’d thought it would be while becoming part of them is where the real hurdles start to show themselves.

They can’t just let any shmuck innofd the street after all.

He passes all the tests they throw his way, Spider-Man literally dropping in to bombard him with a million questions like he’s a kid or something, giving Stephen no room at all to ask questions of his own.

The questions cease when Tony Stark walks in looking for him, giving Stephen a once over as he moves in between them.

He doesn’t trust any of the new recruits, especially with Peter’s true identity.

Stephen doesn’t trust Stark either, not after everything he’s read about him, but when he hears Spider-Man calling the Avenger so formally, he wonders if there’s more to their relationship.

Jameson sees a lot more and wants Stephen to investigate.

He’s the only one who can get him the dirt he needs.

But the thing is Stephen has no idea how he’s going to get Stark’s trust to get the story Jameson wants.

So he goes to the only friend he has he can talk about this.

Wong.

And Wong is all for helping Stephen out because they need money and he would like to be able to eat.

So Wong ends up joining the Avengers as well, impressing every other hero there Stephen hadn’t thought to talk to.

With Wong’s help, Stephen is quickly accepted as part of the team, and in turn, gains a smidgen of Tony’s trust.

Not a lot, but enough for Stark to stop ignoring him whenever he tried to talk to him.

And it’s enough.

The more they talk, the more Tony lets his walls down and the more Stephen realises how much they have in common.

And how wrong it is for him to be abusing this newly gained trust just for a tabloid story and a small paycheck.

He’d probably earn three times the amount Jameson would pay him for said story just by working with the Avengers.

So he forgets about the new article.

He goes on missions, he helps his team out of a tight spot when they need him, and he grows closer to Tony.

And Peter Parker, the kid Tony basically calls his own and will go flying head first into danger for to protect.

Everything is going great until Stephen gets a call from Jameson demanding his story and Tony overhears him.

And that trust Stephen had built is shattered.

Tony has had many a reporter try to worm their way into his life, and yes, most do just become one night stands, but not one of them has ever been as good as Stephen Strange.

None of them thought to make him think they had his back before stabbing him in it.

Stephen tries to tell him he was going to write it before but now he wasn’t. He wouldn’t do that to him or to Peter and Tony can’t stand to look at him because somehow that’s even worse.

He can’t trust anything Stephen says anymore.

Ridden with guilt, Stephen starts the piece Jameson told him to write, but instead of the scoop about Spider-Man’s true identity, or even about Tony Stark, Stephen writes about himself, and the apology he hopes Tony sees.

He hopes his words reach him, and he hopes they can meet the next day and find out if the small flicker of their forming relationship can grow into something bigger.

So, when tomorrow comes, Stephen waits.

And waits.

And waits.

But Tony doesn’t show.

On time, that is.

But when he does, they instantly grab one another.

Stephen’s never been kissed, and Tony’s never kissed someone so many times.

Quotes.

“That thing. That moment when you kiss someone and everything around you becomes hazy. And the only thing in focus is you and this person. And you realise that that person is the only person that you’re supposed to kiss for the rest of your life. And for one moment you get this amazing gift. And you wanna laugh and you wanna cry...cos you feel so lucky that you found it and so scared that it’ll go away, all at the same time.”

“Damn girl, you are a writer.”

“He is your story.”

“You’re crazy! No! No. No.”

“So...surprise.”

“Surprise’, you were doing a story on me?”

“No, I couldn’t. I mean, surprise, I was hoping...”

“What? What, you were hoping what? That I’d be happy? Why? Because all of a sudden I was allowed to be attracted to you?”

“You were attracted to me?”

“Godammit, Josie, you set me up for a story!”

“No, I...I...”

“Just drop the act. Ok? I mean, every word out of your mouth has been a complete lie. I don’t know you at all.”

“Look if...if we could just spend some time together, you could get to know me again. Wait, please don’t walk away.”

“I just can’t look at you the same way.”

Supreme Scoop

Stephen goes to the Avengers for a story and gets something he never thought he’d ever have.

January, February

Missed a Day? Catch up here!

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5

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[our-heroes-rise]

light of my life

pairing: todoroki x reader

request: Hiya! I was wondering if I could get headcanons for Shoto and his gn/nonbinary s/o during the training camp attack. Like he finds his s/o injured and fighting/they help out with protecting Bakugou and almost get kidnapped? Also, if it isn’t too much trouble, could his s/o have a photo kinetic quirk? They can control and bend light, glow in the dark, and make solid objects out of light like swords, shields and stuff? Sorry if this is too much. Much love! 💛💛

hero name: vigilante!

warnings: angst + swearing + mentions of suffocation (nothing graphic!)

word count: 2,539

a/n: it’s never too much!!! detailed request are fun cause there’s more to work withhh, hehe. also super cool quirk bro i love it! i have an oc with a similar one! btw, i’ve been watching a lot of criminal minds lately so... well if you watched the show you’ll understand why it has the sort of tone it has lol. edit: this is me reading your request again a little later. YOU WANTED HCS? w e l p i wrote you a whole scenario instead because this idea was just too good lol. i still hope you enjoyed it though!

No one ever truly understands the fragility a life holds until it’s a hair’s breadth away from shattering into a million pieces before their eyes. Until it’s ripped from their grasp and dangled like a treat out in front of them. Strangled from their throats by an overwhelming poisonous fog that swirls like fire’s smoke in the depth of their lungs, greedily absorbing every ounce of oxygen with each inhale.

As humans, who stand at the top of the food chain, we often forget how terribly weak we can be against others of our kind. Each of us wants to believe that if it came down to it, if we were thrown into that last millisecond before life or death, that we would fight until our very last breath. But the ugly truth remains; not all of us have that ability. Not all of us are capable of staring down death as it comes hurtling towards us with our teeth bared and fists curled ready for a brawl.

Some of us are simply built to run and there is nothing we can do to change that.

Unless you are the few who choose to reject that belief. The ones who choose to veer their fleeing in the right direction, towards the impending danger and cries for help. The ones that evil should fear the most because those are the strongest and most resilient fighters of all. They turn their fear into heated, unyielding determination, ready to burn through any threat that stands in their path without hesitation because they will never stop running after the ones they are meant to save.

And yet, life has still never felt frailer than in this slow crawling moment of asphyxiation.

Get up.

Leaves cling to your clammy palms, soil caking the skin beneath your nails, fingers clawing at the ground for purchase, dragging your body across the forest floor towards Jiro’s purple shrouded figure still lying limp on the ground.

Get. Up.

Your vision swims, black creeping in from the corners, eyelids mimicking the weight of boulders.

Get up!

Fighting isn’t an option but running is. You can still reach her. You can still save her.

Your arms tremble horribly with the simple effort of lifting your torso off the ground. You grit your teeth, then pray that what little breath you have stored in your lungs is enough, and will your legs to move.

⊹⊹⊹

Shoto hears a rustling in the shrubs behind him, but the elongated teeth that come hurtling towards him don’t allow him the luxury of glancing over his shoulder to see what it was. A barrier of ice prevents any of the villain’s attacks from landing, though it doesn’t hold long before he’s forced to throw up another one, tightening his grip on the unconscious boy slung across his back. There’s an aggravated growl from Bakugou beside him.

He can’t imagine anything good emerging from the strangely colored fog looming behind them. Best case scenario it’s a forest critter fleeing the chaos, in the worst case it’s another villain coming to heard them closer to danger.

Please be safe. Please.

Your excited smiling face just before he entered the trial of courage runs through his mind like an endless loop, tightening the vice-like grip of anxiety around his heart. You had been behind him and Bakugou with Jiro as your partner. He wishes more than ever now that he had traded places with Jiro. Without knowing exactly how far apart each group was, he could only hope that it was far enough so the fog couldn’t reach you. No matter how unlikely the situation was.

The rustling movement comes again, the blade-tooth villain attacks once more, forcing Shoto and Bakugou back a step before Shoto’s able to protect shield them.

“You hear that too, right, half’n’half?” Shoto sees from the corner of his eye that Bakugou has cast his gaze to the trees bordering each side of them, searching.

“Yeah,” he grunts, shifting the unconscious boy’s weight. “I won’t be able to protect both of us if it’s another villain. And I can’t keep this up forever, his attacks are becoming stronger, more enraged.”

“I never needed your damn protection anyway.” Shoto withholds an eye roll. Leave it to the class hot head to remain stuck in his ways even when his own life is at risk. “If it’s another villain I’ll kill him.”

“They’re after you. You’ll have to be more mindful of your attacks.” Another barrage of ice to counter the villain's attack. “If you start another fire you’ll just -”

“Yeah, yeah I get it Icyhot, get off my fuckin’ -” A sharp intake of breath pulls Shoto’s attention away for just a millisecond, barely enough time to see the alarm flicker across Bakugou’s face, then he’s occupied with the villain again.

“What? What is it?” Shoto demands, words chopped through gritted teeth.

“The fuck happened to you?” Bakugou asks instead to presumably whatever has made its exit from the fog.

Shoto’s mind races with a million possibilities. Could the fog have more side effects than knocking its victims unconscious, like physical mutation? Was it another student or a new villain? The villain who created the fog or a different one? Was it -

“Shoto, look out!”

He was too late. His ice wasn’t fast enough but - but the glimmering white shield of moonlight was. The tooth-blade rattled against the hard exterior with four others before withdrawing for the following attack, which he was ready for this time. His next ice wall would be thick enough to hold the villain off for a few extra seconds, that way he could see, he had to make sure it was -

“Y/n.” His bout of relief lasts less than a second after taking in your ragged appearance. “What happened?”

Jiro is sprawled on top of a stretcher with the same moonlight shimmer of the barrier you had protected him with moments ago. She’s unconscious. You lower the floating slab of light holding your partner to the ground beside you, now well away from the poisonous cloud.

“The. . . The fog it just -” you sway heavily, and Bakugou catches you by the shoulder “- it just came out of nowhere. And then... Jiro she got - she took it the worst so I had to. . .”

You shake your head and Shoto can tell that you’re fighting to keep yourself upright. His heart aches, but he can’t go to you yet, the villain isn’t leaving any time for that.

“It doesn’t matter,” you huff, raking your fingers through your hair, bleary eyes focusing on the pillars of ice behind Shoto. “I think there were others behind us but we can’t count on them to take out the source of the fog so our only option is to keep going forward or find a way around. Either way, we’ll have to fight sooner or later.”

“Y/n, you can barely stand. If you try to fight -”

“I’m fine,” you bite out, eyes snapping to Shoto for the very first time. And it isn’t your tone of voice that snaps his mouth shut, it’s the weight of your stare. The stubborn resolve that burns like an untamed flame, roaring in the face of your exhaustion. “If I stop now there’s no getting back up. I won’t be another piece of dead weight for you guys.”

“What about Jiro?”

“Of course, I’ll protect her too. We’ll be okay.”

Bakugou has stopped paying attention to the two of you in favor of the villain, the sound of ice cracking and giving under the thrust of more bladed attacks registers in the back of Shoto’s mind, and he knows its only a matter of seconds before he’ll be needed again. As much as he wants to, he can’t force you back. He knows you too well, you wouldn’t let him get the next word out.

Shoto levels you with a stern look. “We’re only fighting to get away, not to take the villain out. Understand?”

Your lips pull up in a wide wobbly grin that still manages to flood his chest with warmth, reminding him of every reason why he had fallen for you in the first place.

“Got it.”

⊹⊹⊹

He should have known better than to let you walk in the back with the other two. You should have been at the front of the group with him and the other three injured classmates. But the second Midoriya had asked you to be one of the few to walk with Bakugou you agreed without a second thought. Shoto knew there wasn’t any talking you out of it, not when you were aware of how important your role of protection was. If anything or anyone came at Bakugou one of your light shields would be more than enough to keep the threat at bay until the others were alerted.

Of course, you would have had to hear the threat coming in order to defend against it.

“I really would have left the light wielder alone,” Mr. Compress sighed, the sound of his feigned regret fueling the rage coursing through Shoto’s veins. “But after seeing their abilities in the sports festival, I knew they would just get in the way. And we can’t have any more setbacks, so, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be off!”

No. No, no, no! Not them too. NO!

Shoto was the first to take off after Compress, sprinting down the path as fast as his legs would carry him, the others just a step behind him. Every fiber of his being buzzed with adrenaline, with the demand to bring you back to him, to reach the others. He was not giving up until every single one of you was safe back at camp. Especially you.

Especially you.

All he could see was your face. Your kind, beautiful face, smiling wide with adoration as he plants a quick tentative kiss on your cheek on one of the first dates he took you on. The way your nose scrunches cutely when he says something unknowingly funny. The way you look at him when you think he isn’t paying attention, how your eyes roam his face, caressing every feature of his with invisible loving hands. The way your cheeks flushed after the first time he kissed you.

The only time he’s ever kissed you.

Shit, he’s only kissed you one time, and he sure as hell won't let it be the last.

He would not let them take the only piece of solace he’s had since reconnecting with his mother. From the moment he understood his feelings for you he vowed to protect your smile, no matter what. It was what brought him comfort, made him feel loved, wanted, happy. He would be damned if he let them rip you away from him, strip you of that smile that breathes life into everyone else around you.

Sometimes it frightens him how quickly he fell for you. There had been no warnings, no road signs, no heads up, just a cliff that he had stepped right off the edge of. Shoto didn’t even know he was plummeting into an endless pit until he realized that there was a weightless feeling in his stomach every time he saw you, every time you spoke to him, every time you looked in his direction. And by then it was too late. He had no hope of rescue, already too far gone.

Sometimes it frightens him how easily you caught him, worried that he’ll do something to make you let go. To scare you away for good.

But then he remembers moments where you look at him with those eyes that could melt even the coldest heart, hold onto his hand as if the next second he might disappear, and remind him of the reasons you will always love him, no matter the differences that might come between you.

And he can’t help but feel safe.

He won’t lose you.

⊹⊹⊹

“Poor Todoroki Shoto,” the scarred villain whispers just as Shoto’s hand clasps around only one of the marble casings.

His heart sinks at the statement as hits the ground rolling, ignoring his spinning vision to stare down at the marble in his hand, trying to see who he was holding.

Did that bastard mean he had grabbed the wrong one? Were you still -

Before he can finish scrambling to his feet to chase back after the villain, there’s a flash of blinding light and a sudden limp weight in his arms. Blinking away the spots in his vision he quickly makes out your sleeping face.

The relief that floods his chest is selfish, he knows that, but in the moment he can’t bring himself to care as he crushes you to his chest, tears stinging the corners of his eyes. Weak fingers twist into the fabric of his shirt and he looks up in time to catch Bakugou vanish into the portal with the other villains.

He’s torn between a whirlwind of emotions, pushing and pulling him in all directions. Shame, regret, anger, devastation.

“Shoto?”

His gaze drops to you to see you staring up at him through tired, lidded eyes, worried, and confused. Then there’s terror in your moment of clarity, you go shooting upwards, head whipping around.

“No! Bakugou! Tokoyami!” You sob, fingers twisting further into his shirt. “Where are they, Shoto? What happened?! I was trying to - they were - oh god, no, I couldn’t -”

“Tokoyami is here. He’s here.”

“And Bakugou?”

When Shoto can’t bring himself to respond he watches your expression crumble with complete remorse.

Where was that smile he had sworn to protect now?

Shoto curls you back towards his chest, where you release the worst of your sobs, soaking through his shirt while he tries his best to comfort you without words. Because he knows there aren’t any to take away the pain you’re enduring, thinking that you could have done any more than you had. So, he holds you tight, tucks your head under his chin, presses a kiss to your hair.

It’s less than a minute later when your sobs subside and he realizes that you’ve likely fainted again. The pros arrive a few minutes after, followed by the police and paramedics, who usher you into an ambulance along with the other injured students. On the ride to the hospital, you drift in and out of consciousness, each time squeezing the hand he has wrapped around yours, reassuring him and the paramedics that you’re okay, you’re just tired, that it’s just a little hard to breathe.

Even half-alive you still try to keep people calm, make them feel at peace.

Moments before reaching the hospital you come too for one more minute, then turn to him, gaze hazy, but he recognizes that same look from before, from just after you emerged from the poisonous fog. 

Voice thick with the painkillers that are pumping through your blood, you whisper to him, “We’re going to get him back, Sho.”

Shoto manages to give you a small smile, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. “We will.”

[sortinghatchats]

Sorting Teen Wolf

In this system, we like to talk about Primary Houses (WHY characters do things) and Secondary Houses (HOW characters do things). Read more on our tumblr, at sortinghatchats.wordpress.com, or take our quiz: https://ejadelomax.itch.io/sortinghatchats 

Scott McCall is a Hufflepuff primary: his morality (why he does things) is based in fairness, in people and the idea that every single one deserves consideration, in community and in loyalty. He’s a Puff secondary, too: his best methods (aka his secondary) (aka how he does things) are compassion, team building, and helping others. (Hello Mr. Every Time Someone is in Pain I Take it on Myself).

But Scott thinks the way he is supposed to act is brave, direct, and forceful. So he tries. He models Gryffindor, and he has nightmares about that particular bravery’s violent extremes.

Once upon a time on a little show called Teen Wolf, Stiles Stilinski told Scott McCall he didn’t have to save everyone, and Scott gave him the blankest, most incomprehending look imaginable. 

Stiles is a Slytherclaw— the precise, ruthless loyalties of a Slytherin Primary acted out by a Ravenclaw secondary’s planning, strategy, research, and learning. The kid reeks Slytherin. Refusing to tell his father about the supernatural, to keep him safe, even at the expense of other people’s lives— Stiles only backed down then at the terrible might of Scott’s puppy dog eyes, which: understandable. 

Let’s kill Jackson, says Stiles, because he doesn’t care. In Allison’s voice that would have the ruthlessness of idealism, not “he’s not one of mine.” I guess a good distinction would be this: Allison would consider killing Scott, if he was murdering people, and Stiles never would. (This is not indicative of a greater connection between brother and brother or lover and lover; this is just pointing out that Allison would do, first, what was right (she would certainly fight her hardest to save Scott, but if there were truly no other options she would sacrifice him). 

Stiles’s morality doesn’t work like that. He would keep his father in the dark even if it meant letting people die, because his father’s life is more important to him than theirs. Stiles is a Slytherin with a very short list of people. 

I think in the S1 Stiles might have modeled Slytherin Secondary on top of his Ravenclaw secondary. He’s into manuevering and deception a lot more then than he is in the later seasons— especially after the nogitsune. 

“I’m 147 pounds of skin and bones; sarcasm is my only defense.” I think that says a lot of it— Stlies has been becoming more and more powerful in his own Ravenclaw skills, enough that he can rely on them instead of hiding behind Slytherin modeling. I’m not sure he feels safer (the world keeps getting more dangerous) but he’s been up against enough now to know that he can survive, and that what keeps him safe tends to be his steady mind and anxious preparations.

Lydia is a Ravenclaw/Ravenclaw who models Slytherin Secondary (eight million times better than Stiles does) and performs Puff (about as badly as Stiles models Slytherin—you can tell she’s putting it on for politeness, when she smiles and doesn’t mean it). 

In this way, her and Stiles’s journeys parallel each other, which makes their friendship one of my favorites. They’re both slowly coming to accept and value their Ravenclaw— to recognize that this is a kind of strength and perhaps even beauty; and that it is theirs.

Until Lydia starts breaking, she almost looks like a Slytherpuff—or, well, a Slytherin/Slytherin with a Puff performance. Her Puff is really unconvincing. But her outward facade of Slytherin Primary is magnificent. Even in the first season, though, her Claw peeks its head out now and then.

(Also: it looks like Lydia’s mom is a Ravenpuff? Which makes me wonder where Lydia learned that she should be a Slytherin. Because she’s so ashamed of her Ravenclaw, early on, both the primary’s idealism and the secondary’s intelligence and curiosity. She has this idea that beauty and power are the things required of her and that she must fulfill them. Only her world shattering around her made her vulnerable enough to reassess and embrace her Ravenclaw. It makes me want to meet her father, or other formative influences in her life, and perhaps see what her mother acted like in that marriage).

Alison Argent takes up her family’s moral legacy and rewrites it in her own words. She does what she thinks is right in defiance of foes, friends, and family. When she decides what right is, when she has watched and learned the world around her and slowly, deliberately built her own code out of the truths she’s found there—then Allison goes after her goals with a single minded intensity and a direct, sometimes violent efficiency. This, my friends, is a Ravenclaw/Gryffindor and she is beautiful.

(ALLISON I HOPE YOU ARE ENJOYING BACKPACKING FRANCE WHILE YOU RECONNECT WITH YOUR COUSINS AND FIGHT FOR TOLERANCE IN THE HUNTER COMMUNITY. I LOVE HOW YOU CALL LYDIA ONCE A WEEK ON SKYPE.)

Malia and Stiles boned over their shared Slytherin primary, which delights me. Malia looks like a Slytherdor, but I wonder if she might be a Slytherin/Slytherin who’s living in her “neutral state” because she doesn’t give a toot. I think if Malia needed to, she’d be happy to lie, coerce, adapt, transform to get what she wanted. She just so far doesn’t think highly enough of anyone to manuever in any way but straightforwardly. 

Kira is a Gryffinpuff, I think. She’s certain and forward and brave, and she goes after her goals with kindness and determination.

Derek is a Hufflepuff with a Claw secondary. “We’re brothers now,” he tells this young kid just because the kid got chewed on by his uncle. He is desperate for community (see: the terrible choices of the Worst Alpha Ever aka S2). Even when he’s creepy (often), even when he’s a failwolf (…more often), he’s doing things to help people simply because they are people.

But he was going to kill Lydia, right? When we thought she was the kanima. Yes, he was— to save other people. Scott, wasn’t, but they’re both still Puffs, because Derek is what happens when a kid like Scott loses hope—or gets a truer idea of the real world, depending on who you ask. 

Scott doesn’t believe in victories that come with comprimises attached. He doesn’t believe in heroism with trade-offs and consequences. Scott was going to save Lydia. But Derek? One girl’s life to stop a monster? He was going to save everyone else. 

(Which— he was wrong, it was Jackson, you failwolf. But I’m more interested in both of their why’s than I am in the realities of the fictional situation).

Derek, like Scott, also models Gryffindor and probably… shouldn’t. He’s worse at it than Scott is. Which, like, wow. Calm down kiddos, please. Neither of you wants to be alpha dog, not really. Embrace your inner pack mom. Take pain from people and take Kira leather jacket shopping and brush the hair out of Cora’s face and hold Lydia’s hand when she’s making hard decisions about what kind of person she wants to grow up to be. Here are your strengths, boys. Here is your heroism.

THE PARENTS

Melissa McCall, Mama McCall, the beacon of Beacon Hills, is a Slytherdor. Her son’s in danger? She will forcibly waken one of her own patients when she herself has warned against it. She will sit with Ms. Yukimura and wonder why their children have to fight this war. (Ms. Yukimura, who’s some sort of idealist House, will respond that otherwise they would be running and hiding, but Melissa will remain unconvinced because this is her boy). 

Melissa’s a Gryff secondary because she is direct, no-nonsense, and doesn’t care if she steps on people’s toes on the way to her goals. She’s amenable up until someone gets between her and something she wants, or something she wants to protect.Melissa models Hufflepuff occasionally, sometimes at her job, but most often around her ex, which makes me wonder if Melissa used to be a Slytherpuff, or a Huffledor, but went “no, screw this!” at the same time she threw her husband out of the house.

Papa Argent, I think, House shares with Derek Hale: Hufflepuff (his morality is informed strongly by the people he loves: his father and sister, and then his daughter; the best argument to get to him in S1 is “Scott hasn’t hurt anyone yet”) with a Ravenclaw primary (plans, preparation, and knowledge), and a Gryffindor modeling because it’s what his family expects of him. 

Scott doesn’t have that many Hufflepuff role-models, does he? His mom, who is extraordinary and wonderful, is a Slytherdor. You can get farther from Puff/Puff but it’s hard. He doesn’t particularly bond with Papa Argent.

The best role model is probably Sheriff, who might be a Puff primary, but who Gryffindor secondaries so competently. Gryffindor secondaries just aren’t where Scott’s skills lie. Or maybe he could find a role model in Deaton, who models Puff but I think Deaton’s really just a Ravenclaw/Ravenclaw. The Puff all goes away when things get serious.

No wonder the kid isn’t comfortable with his Puff. All of his heroes win their wars in other ways.

THE VILLAINS

Peter is a burned Hufflepuff. Literally. People who aren’t his family have ceased being people to him. He presents effectively as a rather nasty Slytherin, but I do think it’s ultimately coming from a Hufflepuff place. But maybe I’m wrong and he really is as simply and shallowly selfish as he seems. … yeah that’s quite possible. 

Peter’s got a slimy Slytherin secondary, and he models Ravenclaw, which is the Chessmaster set up, the mold for the manipulative schemer who (would like to think he) is two steps ahead of everyone. 

(This is opposed to just a Slytherin, where you get adaptable and interpersonally effective tactics, but no long term “mwuahaha” strategy, and just Ravenclaw (think Sokka. think later seasons Stiles) where you just have the strategist).

Gerard, the manipulative douchebag, is a Slytherin/Slytherin who performs Gryffindor to cajole people like Kate and Allison into following him.

Kate is a Gryffindor/Slytherin who models and performs Gryffindor. I’m so sorry Gryffindors.

[spider-manholland]

It Was Always You | Peter Parker

Pairing(s): Peter Parker x Female Reader, mentions of Peter Parker x Michelle Jones

Warning(s): angst, swearing, fluff at the end, FFH spoilers ahead

Summary: Peter Parker thought his trip to Europe would be the time he’d finally tell MJ how he truly felt about her.  That was until he learned about your true feelings towards him.  Now he’s finds himself second guessing on where his heart truly belongs.

Requested: Yes / No

Author’s Note: I finally just watched Far From Home and this idea immediately came to my mind so I had to do this before I lost it. Hope you guys enjoy it!

Masterlist

You honestly didn’t know how you really felt about the class trip to Europe. There was a part of you that was excited, loving the idea to see all the beautiful monuments and museums. But there was also a part of you that hated the trip because of Peter’s plan.

Yes, you knew about his step by step plan on finally telling MJ how he felt about her and of course you were going to support him. You were his best friend and that’s it, even though you wanted to so much more.  But you knew how strong his feelings for MJ were so you had no chance at all.  It sucked though, you could practically feel your get ripped out of your chest over and over again whenever you see the starstruck glint in eyes whenever he was staring at MJ, knowing that he’ll never look at you that way.

“Hey Y/N,” You were taken out of your thoughts at the feeling of your shoulder being nudge, seeing Peter staring at you, causing you to blush slightly.  Just a simple glance from him sent your heart into overdrive and you knew he could hear it, so you didn't know why he never mentioned it.  “I need to asking you something...”

Oh my god is this the part where he tells you that actually likes you instead of MJ, you began fantasize, your lips curling up into a small smile.  “Can you switch seats with MJ?”  And that’s when you felt your heart shatter into a million pieces, your smile dropping instantly.  “I would've asked Ned but you know how he needs the window seat-”

“Y-Yeah,” You cut him off before he could say anything, getting out of your seat and taking your bag out the overhead bin.  When you began to walk away, you noticed the sympathetic frown that was on Ned’s face.  He knew about your feelings towards Peter and you told him not say anything because you didn't want to damage your friendship between you and Peter.  

You walked down the small isle until reached MJ’s seat and gently tapped her shoulder, getting her and Betty’s attention.  “Hey MJ, do you think we could trade seats.  Me and Peter got into a small fight and I don't really want to sit with him, and Betty is the only other person on this plane that I’m actually friends with.”

“Yeah, sure.” MJ nodded, getting up from her seat and letting you sit down.  You watched her walk down the isle until she got to your seat and sat down.  You then immediately plugged your ears with your headphones, blocking out all surrounding sounds and hoping that the sweet sound of Katy Perry can help you forget about all the pain you were currently feeling.

Peter on the other hand, his heart was beating out of his chest when his eyes landed on MJ, the palm of hands becoming sweating as he watched her sit down beside him.  “Sup loser,” she greeted, pulling a book out of her backpack.  “H-Hey,” Peter stuttered, his cheeks heating up from anxiety.  “So, what did you and Y/N fight about?” MJ suddenly asked, causing Peter to look at her with confusion clear on his face.  “What?  M-Me and Y/N didn't have a fight.”

“Really?” MJ raised a brow at him, “Because she told me that you guys fought and that’s she wanted to switch seats with me.”  Peter opened his lips but no words came out.  He turned around in his seat to search for you, his heart sinking when his eyes finally landed on you.  You were sitting in your seat with your headphones on, staring at the small screen in front of you.  You looked completely fine but Peter knew better, he knew you better than anyone.  He took in the small details of your face, like how your lips were curled down into a small frown and your e/c eyes were glistening with tears but you were quickly blinking them away, hoping that no one would notice, but he did.

“Y-Yeah,” Peter turned back towards MJ, his own lips now dropping into a frown.  “We--we had a fight...”

- - -

You stood in the back of your class as all of you slowly poured into the opera house in Prague, no one showing any sign of wanting to be here.  Except for you. This was actually one of the places you wanted to visit on your class trip and you were happy that you finally got to go.  But of course, your thoughts got the better of you as you began to think about Peter.  Neither of you have spoken to each other ever since the plane but you noticed the small glances you got from him.  When you entered the theatre, your eyes immediately went towards Peter, hoping that there was a chance that he wanted to sit with you.  But of course, your heart was hurt again when you saw him and MJ talking, smiles on both of their faces.  

He probably asked her to sit with him, you thought.  Sighing, you walked towards the other side of the row your class was sitting on, deciding that you rather sit by yourself than with anyone else.

On the other side of the theatre, Ned was standing by the entrance with Betty, MJ, Peter, his eyes staring you with sympathy.  “You’re an idiot...” He whispered towards Peter as MJ and Betty both walked over to their seats.  “What did I do?” Peter asked, staring at his friend confusingly.

“I promised her that I wouldn't say anything but your stupidity is tearing your friendship apart.” Ned rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.  “Y/N has been in love ever since ninth grade, Peter!”

Peter’s eyes widened at his friend’s words, his mouth opening but no words coming out.  “W-What?  No she doesn't, w-we’re just friends.”  Ned groaned loudly and ran his hands frustratingly over his face.  “Yes she does!  She’s been trying to tell you for so long but there was never a good time.  First you were obsessed with Liz, then the blip happened, and then you started obsessing over MJ, and Y/N was just pushed to the side the whole time.  Do you know how shitty you’re making her feel?  Especially after what happened on the plane, making her switch seats with MJ and sitting by herself the whole plane ride.”

“She had Betty-” Peter tried to explain but Ned just shook his head, “Dude, you and I both know that she and Betty aren't even that close.  You made her sit basically alone for nine hours so that you could sit next MJ, who you barely even talked to through the whole plane ride.”

Peter bit down his bottom lip, feeling strong waves of guilt finally hit him, realizing now all the pain he was caused and made you go through.  Peter was about to walk over to you but the sound of his earpiece going off made him stop, Nick Fury’s voice filling his ears again, telling him to get in position.  “Listen Ned, I gotta go.  We’ll talk more about this later.”

Peter patted his friend on back before running out of theatre.  But ended up glancing back, and this time his gaze wasn't settled upon MJ.  Instead, it was on you.

- - -

Peter found himself doubting everything as he sat on top of the Opera House, staring down at the Light Festival happening below.  He didn't how to feel.  He just learned that you, his longest and closest friend was in love with him and he had no idea.  “I’m so stupid...” Peter scoffed, shaking his head.

“What’s got you all bummed out?” Peter glanced up to Quentin Beck, the man he has been working alongside with on this trip hovering over him before taking a seat beside him.  “It’s--nothing.” Peter sighed, playing with his fingers.  “Peter,” Beck said more sternly, causing the young hero to stare at him.  “You can talk to me.”

“It’s just--girl problems.” Peter simply said, causing Beck to chuckle.  “Oh really, so who’s the lucky girl?”

“There’s actually two,” Peter added, running his hands frustratingly through his hair.  “Tell me about them,” Beck said, leaning his body slightly forward and resting his forearms on his thighs.  “There’s MJ,” Peter started, “She’s this incredibly beautiful, smart girl that I’ve had a crush for months.”

“That’s the girl you wanted to tell how you felt on this trip, right?” Beck mentioned and Peter nodded his head.  “But who’s the other girl then that’s got you all second-guessing yourself now?”

“Y/N...” Peter’s voice trailed off, the image of your smile and your beautiful e/c eyes filling his mind.  “S-She’s--she’s everything to me.  We’ve been best friends ever since we were toddlers and I just learned that she’s been in love with me for years and I don't know what to do.”

“You do nothing.” Beck answered, shrugging his shoulders.  “Like you said, you’ve been crushing on his MJ chick for months and this Y/N girl shouldn't change that.” 

“But she isn't just some girl, she’s Y/N.” Peter spoke as if it was obvious.  “We’ve been through everything together.  She was the first person that I told about my powers, she was there for me when my Uncle Ben died, and here I am being such a terrible friend to her.  I knew she was terrified of heights but I still made her switch seats with MJ so I could sit next to her.  And this whole trip I’ve been abandoning her because I’ve been so occupied with confessing my feelings with MJ and she wanted to do so many things with me and-” Peter didn't know he was crying until he felt Beck grab his shoulder, causing him to stop talking.

“Let me tell you something kid,” Beck started, “The best kind of relationships are built up from friendships, and tell me, do you and MJ have the same connection that you and Y/N have?”  Peter shook his head, refusing to look at Beck as his eyes were still stained with dried tears.  “Relationships with girls like MJ, someone you don't have a strong bond with never last, Peter.  But relationships with girls like Y/N, ones where they are built from trust, love, and friendship, they last forever.”

“But at the end, it’s your decision Peter.  Who do you want to be with?”

- - -

You hated that your class trip to Europe was ending so soon but you completely understood why.  Everyday you’ve been here there’s been an attack and everyone’s parents were losing their minds.  But that was not the only thing that was bothering you.  You knew Peter was a part of the attacks, hearing from Ned that he was helping Nick Fury deal with those monsters and that got you worried.  You wanted to go to his hotel room and ask if he was okay, if he was hurt or something but you were scared.  You were scared that if you stared into his eyes you’d finally break and you didn't want that to happen.

The sound of someone suddenly knocking on your room’s door caused you to break out of your thoughts, zipping up your suitcase as you finished packing the rest of your clothes.  “Don't worry Mr. Harrington, I’m done packing.” You shouted.

“It’s not Mr. Harrington.” You froze when you heard Peter’s voice instead.  You walked over to your door and pulled it open, your eyes immediately landing on the bouquet of flowers he was holding in one hand and a small bag in another.  “H-Hey,” your voice stuttered, smiling softly.  “H-Hey,” Peter stuttered back, his lips curling up into a small smile as heat traveled up into his cheeks.  He didn't know he could become so smitten for you so quick.  Your smile used to make him feel nothing but now, it made his stomach do flips and his heart burst into butterflies.  “C-Can we talk?”

You only nodded your head, stepping aside so that he could enter your room before closing it behind you.  “So, what is it that you wanted to talk about-”

“I’m sorry!” Peter interrupted, turning to face with guilt clear on his face.  “I’m sorry for treating you so horribly this whole trip, and I’m sorry that I’ve been gushing to you about that stupid crush I had on MJ when you were in front of me this whole time.”

“W-What?” Your voice cracked, stunned at his words.  You felt your heart leaping around your chest as Peter took another step towards you, to where you guys were inches apart.  “I’m sorry that I’ve been so blinded by my stupid crush on MJ that I never realized that I was in love with you too.”

“Y-You love me?” You asked, your eyes filling with tears as you stared at the boy that has had your heart for years.  “Yes,” he smiled, placing the bouquet of flowers onto your dresser before taking your hand into his, rubbing the back of it with his thumb, sending sparks through both of your bodies.  “Yes I do.”

You had the largest smile on your face as tears of happiness began to stream down your cheeks.  “I-I don't know what to say...”

“I got something for you,” Peter said, opening the small bag that he held in his other hand and taking out a necklace that was shaped as a clear glass heart that had red gem in the middle of it.  “I saw you staring at it in that jewelry store by the opera house.”

“How did you get it?” You asked, taking the necklace into your hands.  “I returned the Black Dahlia necklace so that I could you get this.”  Your eyes widened at his words, “But Peter, what about your plan and all?”

“You are my plan.” Those four words managed to make your heart explode into fireworks, sending sparks erupting in your chest and another happy tear to escape from your eyes.  “It was you, Y/N.  It was always you.”

Without saying anything you leaned in and pressed your lips against his.  Peter’s eyes widened at your sudden action but didn't hesitate to kiss you back, his arms circling around your waist as your hands wrapped around his neck.  Your lips moved in perfect sync with his, sending both of your hearts beating out of control.  You were the first to pull away, both of you breathing heavily, your lips swollen and cheeks bright pink as your foreheads rested against each other.  

You were staring into each other’s eyes as you both tried to catch your breath.  You then couldn't help but smile as those four words that came out of his mouth a few seconds ago filled your mind again, making you realize that this was real.  Peter standing in front of you, holding you, kissing you, was real.

It was always you

Drop in any Peter Parker/Tom Holland requests you guys have for me!

[animebw]

Binge-Watching: Paranoia Agent, Episodes 4-6

Well, fuck. They never make it easy for me, do they?

Cuckoo’s Nest

You know, once in a while I’d prefer to get an easy anime to talk about. Between Penguindrum, Skip Beat, and now Paranoia Agent, the last few weeks have been filled with anime that regularly frazzle my brain when I try to put together coherent thoughts on them. My recent experience on this blog has been lousy with complicated, difficult, often frustrating shows that zig when I expect them to zag and go off in a million different directions I’m not properly equipped to analyze. It’s been doing a hell of a number on my brain, I can tell you that much. Next time, I hope I can binge-watch an anime that I actually feel inspired to pull meaningful ideas out of. Something that doesn’t challenge norms of storytelling or cloak its meaning in a million different layers of obfuscation, just a good time with no caveats. Because I don’t know how many more of these head trips I can take before I completely exhaust my mental capacity.

So, to recap: Paranoia Agent’s first few episodes set it up as a gritty, grounded psychological thriller/mystery about chasing down a murderous kid, but there was a clear underlying subtext that something far more supernatural was going on. The way Lil Slugger attacked his victims, coming after them at their lowest points as they begged for release from their miserable lives, he seemed more like an avatar of warped salvation than an actual kid. Imagine my surprise then, when the fucker gets himself caught before we even reach the halfway point- revealing his full face for the first time, in case the demystifying intentions of dragging him into the spotlight weren’t clear enough- and found that he actually was just a kid. Maybe. Possibly. Well, look, it turns out that I wasn’t wrong about seeing him as a divine agent come to save people from the pain of their wretched lives; what I wasn’t expecting was the fact that only he sees himself that way. The real Lil Slugger is little more than a chuuni asshole living out his LARPer fantasy in real life, imagining himself as the noble hero of a swords-and-sorcery video game as he cleanses society from the presence of the evil demon Goma. He’s not a cruel, calculating sadist or an inhuman presence; he’s goddamn Natsuki Subaru with the sanity switch flipped off. In other words, he is utterly goddamn ridiculous, and the episode that reveals this truth plays into that lunacy by suddenly transforming into a goofy, cartoonish dive down the kid’s psyche like something out of a Loony Toons short. Suddenly, the police officers are privy to the kid’s corny fantasies! And they have a waaaaacky comedy routine with the one straight man and the one who plays along? And they get pulled along on this wacky zappy adventure and there are hijinks aplenty and the faces are all ridiculous and expressive and I’m sorry, is this the same show that featured a cop’s cruel, inhuman descent into madness and tragedy of shattering masculinity as seen by his story of failure and savagery and pathetic cowardice contrasted by his attempts to frame it in the form of a macho hero boy’s manga in the very previous episode?

Yeah, I just... I dunno, what do I say about that? What kind of nonsense world is this where gritty realism can suddenly become supplanted with wacky cartoon logic like that? Who thought this tale of pain and poison and the darkness of the human spirit could sustain such a stupid, obvious joke for an entire episode without elaborating on it at all? It’s the same gag, over and over again; the one guy gets into it, the other guy doesn’t, is sarcastic and jaded, repeat ad nauseum with a muted production that is not built to handle this kind of colorful cacophony. Were these characters really built to handle this kind of abrupt tone shift that just shifts back to the status quo anyway once it ends and gets back to diving into the troubled psyches of daughters running from perverse fathers? What was the greater meaning that couldn’t be communicated in less than half the time it took for this tired bit to run its course? What was even the point of that?

What was even the point of... any of this?

...

I need to take a step back.

Window Dressing

Look, I’m not gonna lie, I’m really struggling here. I’m sitting in front of this post, wracking my brains to try and find some way to couch my thoughts on this set of episodes, and I just... cannot find a satisfactory way to do it. I ended my first session with Paranoia Agent greatly intrigued to see how it would develop from here, how it would build on its ideas to reach greater heights. But somewhere along the line, my thought process watching this show just sort of curled up and fell asleep. Try as I might, I am just not connecting with this show. I can’t bring myself to get invested in this story or these characters, to care all that much about what happens to them or what’s actually going on, to put any real thought into analyzing what this show is going for or how it’s gong about it. Flat out, cards on the table, Paranoia Agent isn’t working for me, and it’s not working on such a level that the intriguing questions I had about it early on have sort of slipped through my fingers with a half-hearted “Whatever”. And considering it looks like we’re gearing up to jump into increasingly surreal, paranormal territory with the arrival of a Jean Grey-esque character whose intense emotional needs end up summoning a storm to do her bidding- not to mention her familial connection to the mysterious old woman who’s been lurking in the shadows- that doesn’t bode well for my ability to keep this show’s pace. The weird diversion into cartoon sideshow territory is just one symptom of the issue here, and I’m not even really sure what the issue is yet. All I know is that I’m increasingly more and more un-invested in figuring out why this show makes the choices it does, and I don’t like the way that feels. Even with bad shows in the past, I’ve found merit in interrogating the direction they take and figuring out how the whole rotten mechanism falls apart. Here, though? I’m no longer certain I care enough to find the answer.

So, what the hell’s going on? Paranoia Agent’s a highly respected property from a legendary director, it’s got plenty of fans from all circles of this community, why am I not connecting with it? I don’t think my usual aversion to realism is enough of an explanation; there’s something deeper about this show on a fundamental level that just does not work for me. And while I don’t have a definite answer yet, I at least have the beginnings of an idea; a lack of internal life. The script is incredibly dedicated to using its characters and their stories as props for its greater narrative, moving pieces around to slowly tease out the grand reveal of the puzzle, but it fails to give me a reason to care about any of those pieces beyond a general appreciation of how they fit into the show’s larger point. I barely even remember the names of any of these characters, and I’m already starting to forget what issues brought them into contact with Lil Slugger. Why? Because we never get to see these characters as anything but how they fit into the story. The only things we learn about them, their wants, their desires, their living situations, all of it, it’s all just window dressing to describe why this particular person needs to be “saved”. We’re given the basic information on why every character is fucked up and how their fucked-up situation progresses, but what we don’t get to see is their humanity. We don’t see how their lives are affected by their situations, we just see the situations themselves. And as a result none of these people feel real. They’re pawns on a chessboard to be moved around according to the story’s whims, not active agents driving the narrative forward with their own wills. They’re narrative tools that are used to get to a specific point, and then their purpose is served and there’s nothing worth keeping around about them.

I realize I’m being frustratingly esoteric with this criticism, but that’s because I’m just as baffled and nebulous about this feeling myself. I can’t pinpoint any specific moment that explains what I’m talking about, any scene that really made me see the show in this way. I just know that I don’t see the Perverse Father as anything other than a perverse father, the Two Detectives as anything other than stock detectives, the Broken People as anything other than their cracks and fractures. They are their story purpose and nothing more; but with nothing more than structure, why do their stories even matter? Why should I be invested in what happens to these characters when they have so little character to speak of beyond being walking information sheets? Stories cannot survive on structure alone; with no meat, Paranoia Agent is only bones. And there’s only so many times you can gnaw on bones before they lose all their flavor.

The Holy Warrior

With all that said and done, where do we go from here? Well, like I mentioned earlier, it seems like the show is gearing up to really start bringing the trippy dream logic into play, potentially shifting into full surrealist/magical realist territory by the time all is said and done. Despite the reveal that Lil Slugger is just a deluded brat, there’s no denying that he does have some sort of power. He can see the “red glow of Goma” in people, though what that glow represents isn’t clear yet. And the power of his bat has been confirmed as a measure of relief from peoples awful lives, erasing their memories of all their hardships to free them from what pains them. He comes to broken people and relieves their anguish by taking it from their minds. But it’s also revealed that the “Lil Slugger” Sagi saw was only a figment of her own imagination; she’s the one who injured her leg. So is Lil Slugger actually just a self-imposed mass delusion, a representation of the ways these broken people flee from their pain without trying to address it healthily? But then, who’s the very real kid in custody who attacked everyone else? Was he literally born from Sagi’s self-deception? She was the first victim, after all, so was the force of her trauma enough to literally manifest him from nothing as an active agent free from her control? But also, he’s not the only supernatural force in this show; not only does the old man still have much to reveal, but the granddaughter of the old lady has made an appearance and proven than her emotion-driven rages can drive the universe to bend to her whims. And then, what the hell happened to Sagi when the cops revealed her deception to her and she was knocked over? Was she just literally thrown by the weight of the truth, or is she somehow connected to the granddaughter who got Sluggered right at that moment too? What the heck is the connection there? What the hell does any of this mean?

And more importantly, will I care enough to be excited for the answer?

I’m not sure. I’m less sure of anything regarding Paranoia Agent than anything since Penguindrum. I just hope I’ll find something worthwhile to talk about when all is said and done, because I don’t like feeling like I’m wasting everyone’s time on a project I don’t care about. Surely there’s gotta be something of value in here. I just hope I can find it.

Odds and Ends

-Good lord are the taiko drums on the soundtrack doing their best to make up the difference.

-”Get me some smokes.” “Is there a character named that?” aksjdhasdk why

-”Oh this is great, the kid’s even got his own soundtrack.” GOOD FUCKING BYE

-”Tell me the truth, you’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” Those are the eyes of a dead man.

-I appreciate how Frog-Face is an actual frog in this delusion.

Alright, enough of that. Hopefully, the next stretch will bring better tidings, yeah?

[alwaysmychoices]

Red

Pairing: Drake x Olivia

Synopsis: The night of the Royal Wedding between King Liam and Collins Alexander, Drake and Olivia find each other and are surprised by the comfort they find…

Rating: Teen (mild cursing)

Words: 3427

----

Where is Red?

That question echoed in Drake’s mine as he searched the room for her flash of red hair in the sea of traumatized wedding guests hiding their pain in another rendition of the electric slide, but Olivia evaded his gaze.

All night, he’d done this.

Drake looked for Olivia in every crowd, every corner, and every glass of whiskey he could find. Sometimes, she’d step into view. He’d watch as she navigated the wedding like a timid child hiding behind her characteristic scowl. She smiled for their friends, joining the dance floor that rattled the castle. But the smile always faltered. There was a crack in her ice fortress, revealing a sliver of the emotions locked within her.

Somehow, she slipped from view once more. Long after the newlyweds had left the reception, the party raged on as thousands of guests hid from their horror in the luxurious open bar. Maxwell and Hana remained committed to the dance floor, and Drake stayed out of necessity. Once he escaped the music, he’d return to reality – a reality where he’d almost lost all that mattered to him. Isolated in the bubble of wedding merriment, he could celebrate to numb the pain. He was a few whiskeys deep and mid-moonwalk when he realized Olivia was no longer beside him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her in the corner, and he knew not to follow. He’d known Livvy long enough to know when she needed to be alone…

For the next hour, he watched for her, and a wave of relief crashed over him every time she stepped in his sight. When she disappeared this time, something dark and dangerous gripped his heart. Fear rattled his bones as he waited for her to return.

But she didn’t.

The longer he waited, the more unnerved he became. Uncertainty itched at his skin and urged him to do something he had never done before – search for Olivia Nevrakis.

The whiskey in his blood emboldened him enough to abandon the dance floor. Once he passed the security guards, the noise faded, and the guests became fewer and fewer. Wandering down the corridor, the path darkened and wound in a confusing path. Just beyond his reach, he could hear an uncomfortably familiar noise – crying.

Still, nothing prepared him for what he would see when he turned a corner.

Olivia Nevrakis was sobbing.

Drake had known Olivia Nevrakis for decades, but tonight was the first time he’d witnessed true vulnerability in those emerald green eyes. The walls of ice she built around her heart were thick and her defenses strong. Occasionally, she’d let a generous prince with a kind smile through the gates but rarely the plucky commoner. Drake was never one to readily share his emotions, nor was Olivia. Together, they lingered on the cusp of vulnerability but shied away from the edge. Beneath their feigned disdain for each other lurked profound respect. Olivia would never show weakness to Drake Walker, but now, here she was.

Tears slid down her cheeks, staining her porcelain skin with streaks of black mascara. Tendrils of wild red curls escaped their secure up-do, and each stray curl further distorted her fearsome image. Her dress – a couture creation designed exclusively for her – had lost its glory. Beads were missing. Hemlines were frayed, and punctures marred the crimson fabric. A tight bandage sat beneath the largest cut, spots of blood peering through the white gauze. Clutching her broken heels in one hand and downing a glass of champagne with the other, Olivia was not the picturesque duchess feared by all who dared to cross her path.

She was a woman in pain.

Drake stopped dead in his tracks, nearly dropping his whiskey out of shock, and something inside of him shattered. Never before had he so desperately wished to fix something- someone -  he cared about.

“What the fuck do you want, Walker?” Olivia snapped, wiping her eyes with the hem of her dress as she glared up at him. She had found this place for a reason. She didn’t want to be seen, especially not by him.

“I-I…” Drake stammered, “I was looking for you.”

“Why? To see if I’ll murder an heir? Don’t worry. Security’s already doing that,” Olivia’s voice seeped in bitterness.

“You saved the King and Queen of Cordonia! Surely, no one could doubt you!” Drake’s grip on his glass tightened as disdain and anger bubbled in his chest. Olivia had done nothing but proven herself, even if her methods were unorthodox.

“It’s their job,” Olivia sneered, “And I don’t blame them. I have every incentive to want Liam and Collins out of the way. I guess it says something about me that it’s unfathomable I would act out of love for friends instead of securing my own interests.” There was a twinge of something raw in Olivia’s voice that night.

The last year had taken Olivia by surprise. The Nevrakis defenses crumbled and left her exposed to the many secrets hidden in the ancient walls. Her parents, her own flesh and blood, were distorted as their legacies shattered to reveal the dark underbelly of ambition. They weren’t heroes of legend.  They were grimy assassins determined to claim the throne. Olivia had invested so much time in protecting the Nevrakis legacy, but now… She shuddered at the idea of becoming a true Nevrakis, consumed with greed and dangerous to all she encountered.

But who was she to be now?

Her future was unclear. For the first time, she lacked an ancient code of conduct to establish her behavior. Her name, once impeccable and intimidating, had lost its glorious sheen. Beneath coats of armor, she was suddenly aware of the vulnerability she maintained. Everything she’d dreamed of – everything she’d planned – was gone.

“That’s not fair,” Drake didn’t know why he said it. He was certainly the last person to console Olivia Nevrakis, but he couldn’t help himself. Looking at her in this state did more than surprise him, it terrified and pained him.

“Oh really?” Olivia cocked an eyebrow, “I’m sure that if you asked most people in that room,” Olivia pointed in the direction of the wedding reception, “they’d disagree.”

Drake considered her argument, leaning against the wall and sliding down beside her as he mulled over what to say next. Olivia stared at him in confusion. What the hell was he doing? Nobody in their right mind would declare Drake and Olivia friends, and he was the last person to pour out his emotions.

Still, Olivia didn’t stop him. She didn’t berate or reprimand him for sitting next to her. Instead… in ways that were still confusing to her, she welcomed his company. His presence was familiar and calming, and she liked it.

“Maybe that’s true… But the people that really matter know the truth,” Drake looked over at her, draping his arms over his knees as he settled into his spot on the floor, “Olivia, you’ve been a bitch. Nobody will tell you otherwise. I’ll be the first to admit that I spent most of our childhood hating you, but you’ve changed. Today, you watched Liam get married, and you cheered him on as a bridesmaid to Collins, a woman you used to hate. A year ago, you would have murdered them both, but now, you’re one of their best friends.”

“She’s a plucky American. She makes everyone like her,” Olivia grumbled, and an unwilling chuckle rumbled from Drake’s chest. Olivia’s eyes widened. Drake never laughed at her…

“That she is,” Drake shook his head, “I’m pretty all of Cordonia wants to marry her.”

Olivia swallowed, recognizing the unacknowledged truth in his words. He wanted to marry her. He’d loved Collins Alexander with a burning passion he’d never felt before, and while he’d accepted her fate with Liam, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t sting to watch her marry another man.

“It’s weird, isn’t it? Watching them marry each other,” Olivia murmured, “When you always thought they’d be with you instead.”

“Yeah,” Drake admitted, letting out a long exhale he’d held in from the moment he entered the cathedral, “I guess it is…”

Silence.

Olivia and Drake sat beside each other in complete silence, both sharing a location but mentally miles away. They were close enough to smell the alcohol on each other’s breath but so far apart in their heads. A million things ran through their minds as they processed their personal trauma of the evening. Saying goodbye to the people they loved was hard enough, but the violence and fear of Anton’s antagonization lingered.

“My marriage ended on the day Liam got married,” Olivia bit back a rueful laugh, “Fate has a sense of humor.”

“Are you doing okay with it?” Drake asked, so intimidated by the process of asking her a personal question that he clarified, “Liam and Collins, I mean.”

Olivia considered the question for a moment before finally nodding her approval.

“Yes, I am. I really am,” Olivia affirmed, partially for Drake’s benefit but also to remind herself, “I still love Liam. I probably always will, but… They’re so happy. That’s really all I want for the two of them. As much as I hate myself for saying this, I love Collins, too. Liam and I were never meant to be, and I’m okay. Today’s just… hard. Watching them pledge their lives to each other is the final nail in the coffin of a potential relationship, and it stings.”

Drake nodded his head in quiet agreement. He didn’t vocalize it, but he knew exactly how Olivia felt. The same emotions had plagued him all night, and as much as he wanted to set them free, he knew better than to announce his love on the day of Collins’ wedding. So, he sat next to Olivia and wondered if she knew… Part of him hoped she did. The old Olivia would have ridiculed him for daring to love a woman of higher rank, but this Olivia understood things he could never put to words.

“Cheers to love lost,” Drake held up his drink of whiskey for a toast, and Olivia feebly raised her empty glass of champagne.

“It’s a bit late for that,” Olivia nickered, and Drake felt a squeezing of his heart at the familiar sound of her snicker. The Olivia he knew was still in there, even if her sharp wit was hidden under layers of pain and trauma.

Drake shoved the glass of whiskey at her, “Take this then. You need it.”

“This is disinfectant, not alcohol,” Olivia crinkled her nose in disgust.

“Suit yourself. Stay sober if that’s what you want,” Drake taunted, and Olivia released a dramatic sigh.

“Fine,” she took the drink of out of his hand, practically holding her breath as she gulped down the brown liquid. The alcohol burned down her throat, settling in a warmth in her belly that numbed the pain, “At least I can’t feel my injuries anymore,” Olivia murmured.

Drake rolled his eyes, removing a flask from his coat pocket. He’d been saving this whiskey all night, fearing that the next stage of the wedding would be even more dangerous than the last. But sitting here next to Olivia, the world had slowed. He didn’t fear an ambush attack, and he was left with the battle scars to process.

“Speaking of, that was stupid as hell on your part, Nevrakis,” Drake swallowed the bitterness in his voice. He couldn’t contain the overwhelming disappointment and anger he’d held onto since the battle for their lives.

“Excuse me?” Olivia demanded incredulously, and if he hadn’t been annoyed with her, he might have laughed at how easily he got a rile out of her, “Who do you think you’re talking to?”

“You could have gotten yourself killed!” Drake warned.

“So could you, dumbass. We all made a choice,” Olivia barked, “A Nevrakis doesn’t step down from a fight, especially a fight for something as important as Cordonia and our loved ones.”

“Hey, don’t call me a dumbass!” Drake insisted, his cheeks flushing with annoyance.

“Then don’t be a dumbass,” Olivia rolled her eyes, a familiar smirk spreading across her lips, and despite his irritation, Drake felt something rise in his chest at the sight.

“I’m just saying, you came close this time,” Drake pointed at the gash in Olivia’s dress, “You can’t keep running into fights and assuming you’ll come out without a scratch.” Something tightened in Drake’s throat, horrified at the idea now swirling around in his mind.

“A Nevrakis always survives,” Olivia narrowed her eyes, and then her face fell. That name. That legacy. It was so ingrained in her identity that remnants of its glorious past still found their way in conversation… “A Nevrakis. What does that even mean anymore?”

Olivia rested her head in her hands, a wave crashing over her as she vocalized a fear that had been burning inside for months, “My family highlights bravery, but they’re all just cowards… Despicable, greedy cowards,” Olivia’s jaw tightened, “I built everything on them – on what they taught me. Who am I supposed to be now?

Drake stopped, shocked by Olivia’s honesty.

He took his time, considering all she said and all she’d held on to. Drake knew Lady Olivia Nevrakis, but Olivia? No, he didn’t know her – not really. She’d appeared in spurts throughout their childhood, a flash of her true personality peering beyond the walls she’d built to protect herself. At the time, Drake had no shame in the hatred the two had shared. Often vying for Liam’s attention, they attacked each other’s weaknesses with the carefree malice of youth.

It was easy for Drake to classify his relationship with Duchess Nevrakis: he fucking hated her. Everyone did.

But Olivia was complicated. Olivia had appeared in his darkest hours, but she never stayed long enough for Drake to form an opinion on her.

After a moment of hesitation, Drake spoke freely, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to tell her the truth they’d both long forgotten.

“You’ll still be you. You’re the same person, Olivia. You won’t be a Nevrakis, but we’re lying if we say that was the only element to you. You’re much more than the Scarlett Duchess, and you know it,” Drake didn’t shy away from the brutality in his tone, and Olivia gawked at him as he added, “You’re not a Disney villain. Nobody is… This is an opportunity to reinvent yourself with the burden of a Nevrakis name.”

Olivia fought the urge to belittle him for his tone and the dig at her family name, and as thousands of insults laid on the tip of her tongue, she swallowed them all and stared instead.

“Thank you.”

Those two words were rarely said, and they caught both off guard.

Another moment passed as a pair of green eyes stared deeply into the chocolate brown pair across from her. Something had changed. Something so profound that it hid in plain sight. Decades had been building up to this moment, but nonetheless, it felt sudden and unexpected. A barrier had been lifted and a line crossed, and the world would never be the same again.

Olivia finally averted her gaze, settling on the flask in his hand. It was warm to the touch, heated by Drake’s body as it rested in his coat pocket throughout the reception, but the whiskey inside was rich and smooth enough to counteract its container.

“This might be the whiskey talking, but you’ve made tonight better,” Olivia begrudgingly mumbled her compliment, somewhat hoping he wouldn’t hear it. Squirming with the weight at having complimented him, she added, “Of course, if you want a real drink, you should be drinking from my wine cellar. I’ve amassed an impeccable collection.”

“I go there all the time, Red,” Drake smirked with true content as he shared his dirty little secret, “Not even your defenses can keep me from alcohol.”

A mischievous glint flashed in Olivia’s eyes at his confession, and with a deliberate smile she explained, “I know.”

Drake’s face dropped, surprised. She’d known about his secret trips to the wine cellar? That was impossible. The duchess he knew would never allow a commoner to snoop around her home and encounter her prized collection.

“I’ve hidden a bottle of whiskey in there for you to find. It’s been sitting there for years,” Olivia picked a piece of lint off her dress, taking a large gulp of whiskey as she laughed, “Perhaps I gave you too much credit when I selected the hiding spot.

“That sounds like a challenge, Olivia,” Drake felt something burn inside of him, and the unmistakable heat of rivalry mingled with an unknown feeling he couldn’t shake. Something bigger than animosity…

“Interpret as you wish,” Olivia shrugged, “Perhaps I’ll be forced to drink it myself if you continue at your pathetic pace of exploration.”

“Now, that is a challenge. As if I would allow you to waste precious whiskey when you can’t even enjoy it,” Drake insisted, his voice growing more passionate.

“On that note…” Olivia decided to leave Drake to stew in his apparent failure and the excitement of a new competition between the two of them, and despite her injuries and high blood alcohol levels, she stood effortlessly and gracefully. Pulling out a key bobby pin, her wild red hair escaped their domineering up-do and made their public debut, casting Olivia in a shroud of mystery and danger. Draining the final sips of the flask, she returned it to its owner and flashed her signature smile.

If Olivia Nevrakis could save Cordonia, she sure as hell could save herself.

“I believe I hear YMCA,” Olivia said the song’s name as if it was an infamous curse on the tip of her tongue, nearly cringing at the thought of the wedding reception reduced to line-dances and drunken dancing to top hits of yesteryear, “That’s my cue to leave.”

Drake shook his head, silently amazed by the woman in front of him. In the face of danger, she didn’t flinch, but when exposed to polite small talk or common dancing, she was practically petrified and practiced avoidance at all costs.

For the first time, Drake looked at her and saw the fragile human being as well as the badass woman. She was distressed and damaged by her trauma, but she persevered. She was nobody’s victim, not even Anton’s.

“You kicked his ass you, know,” Drake added, staring up at her.

Olivia glanced over her shoulder, a feigned look of disinterest on her face, “Elaborate.”

“We won tonight because of you,” Drake explained, fully aware of the ego-boost he’d just delivered. But it didn’t matter. She earned it.

“I suppose I played a role,” Olivia bit back the face-splitting smile building.

“Will I see you tomorrow at the traditional apple cider brunch?” Drake asked though he didn’t know why he did.

“Perhaps,” Olivia offered no guarantee, “I’ll be returning to Lythikos soon.”

“Oh,” Drake chastised himself for the disappointment he felt. Why should he be upset that she was leaving? Normally, he’d jump for joy.

“My people need me,” Olivia’s voice grew uncertain as she voiced the true concern she felt for her people. It was hardly in line with Nevrakis character, but maybe the rules were different for the new Olivia…

Olivia didn’t offer a goodbye. Instead, she chose to walk away wordlessly. She had only taken a few steps away, however, when she felt an odd but consuming urge. Without thought, Olivia turned around and suggested, “You could come… If you wish, of course.”

It was impossible to tell who was more surprised by Olivia’s suggestion – Drake or Olivia herself.

And Drake’s answer didn’t hesitate to shock even further.

“Maybe… to get a head start on the whiskey hunt, of course.”

Olivia decided to shrug instead of answering him, emitting a nonchalant air that attempted to conceal the wave of excitement she felt with his tentative acceptance.

What the fuck is wrong with you??? Olivia questioned herself, horrified by the developments she’d just witnessed.

Three words lingered on the tip of Olivia’s tongue, stopping her heart and changing all she thought she knew. A sentiment she’d never vocalized before – especially not to Drake Walker- weighed on her, and she realized it had never been more accurate.

She didn’t say them – not tonight.

One day, she’d say it, and it would change their world. But for tonight, they just looked at each other and thought the same three unthinkable words – I love you.

---

This is the first time I've posted Olivia x Drake (which is weird because I love them together), so I'm still finding their voice. But I hope you still enjoyed it. I'm thinking about writing a series around this and what they've started...

[hale-of-stiles-heart]

hearts on fire tonight

Alright fall fic done; two in one day! For the sentence starter: “I’m having a bonfire tonight, wanna come?” Also on ao3!

Bakugo wiped his sweaty palms on his pants for what seemed like the hundredth time since leaving his room.

The walk to Kirishima's room from his own lasted no more than thirty seconds but today it felt like a fucking eternity. Like he was wading through quicksand or sludge instead of just walking a room over.

It was an odd feeling, this rush of uncharacteristic anxiety surging through him like he had been hit by one of Kaminari's electric shocks. It was fucking ridiculous.

His Quirk naturally made him sweat at an accelerated rate compared to most people but with how nervous he was his palms were absolutely drenched. He wiped them on his jeans again.

Fuck. He would probably have to change his pants after this. And figure out a way to stop his fucking palms from sweating.

Before him, Kirishima's door was like a beacon, a lighthouse calling out to him from the shore as he trudged through the stormy waves. But at the same time, it had never looked so intimidating.

Bakugo shook his head, hating himself for feeling so fucking nervous. It wasn't like he was fucking proposing, he was just asking Kirishima if he wanted to hang out with him. At his house. Alone. While his parents were out of town visiting distant relatives.

Ugh, who the hell was he kidding? He had good reason to be nervous and he knew it.

Because as much as he tried to tell himself that he was just inviting Kirishima to hang out like they had a million times before, that he shouldn't be such a fucking wuss about it, he knew damn well that it was more than that. Because Bakugo was finally going to tell Kirishima that he had feelings for him.

Feelings that could completely shatter the friendship they had built together since the beginning of the year. Because his feelings weren't the kind that friends typically had for each other.

At least, he didn't think so. He didn't have much as a frame of reference. But he had never wanted to shove Kaminari or Sero against a wall and kiss the living daylights out of them. So he was pretty sure Kirishima was special in that regard.

The feelings he had for Kirishima were romantic feelings, loath as Bakugo was to admit it. But today he was. He was finally going to.

It had taken weeks for Bakugo to figure out how exactly to go about confessing his feelings. It wasn't like he had ever done it before.

Hell, he had never even really been attracted to anyone before. And he had always prided himself on that, on not being like the rest of the idiots he had gone to elementary and middle school with who had obsessed over dates and school dances and first kisses.

He'd always had more important things to worry about. Like becoming the number one pro hero.

Then he had met Kirishima. Just like that he was daydreaming about going on dates with Kirishima to see the newest All Might movies and making out in Kirishima's room instead of studying. Fuck, he was pathetic.

He shook himself again, pausing outside of Kirishima's door to take a deep, bracing breath. Clenching his jaw, he finally raised his hand to knock on Kirishima's door, for good measure calling, "Yo, shitty hair!"

Grand entrances were romantic, right?

Barely a moment later, the door swung open to reveal Kirishima's brightly smiling face, sharp squaloid teeth on full display. Smile somehow growing even wider when he saw Bakugo, he cheerily greeted, "Hey, man! What's up?"

Bakugo was immediately distracted. Kirishima had clearly been working out before answering the door. He was shirtless and flushed with a white towel draped around the back of his neck, glistening with sweat.

Kirishima shirtless wasn't necessarily an unusual sight, his hero costume revealed a lot of skin after all, but that didn't mean it didn't affect Bakugo. He prided himself on not being ruled by his hormones but he was still a teenaged boy face to face with his unfairly good-looking, shirtless crush.

Besides, even if Bakugo didn't have a crush on Kirishima, a chest that tanned and sculpted, artfully dotted with sweat like Kirishima was in some kind of bordering-on-pornographic commercial for men's underwear or something, was enough to make any male-attracted person's mouth go dry.

Bakugo had to force himself to focus on Kirishima's equally distracting face in an attempt to keep from drooling like some kind of objectifying asshole. Desperately hoping he wasn't blushing (the capillaries in his cheeks were fucking traitors) he cleared his throat. "I'm having a bonfire at my place tonight. You wanna come?"

"Really, dude? Yeah, that sounds awesome!" Kirishima beamed, just as excited as Bakugo expected him to be. He was like a big, overgrown puppy, wagging his tail and jumping around at the prospect of a long car ride around the neighborhood.

Bakugo imagined Kirishima would react the same exact way if his friends asked him to root through a dumpster with them in the middle of the night. He was like the Energizer Bunny of disproportionate enthusiasm and Bakugo was completely ass over ankles for him.

"Who else is coming?" Kirishima asked, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned against the door jamb. Leave it to Kirishima to immediately want to include others in anything he thought they would enjoy.

"No one," Bakugo said, rolling his eyes. He tried to shrug casually, not wanting to let Kirishima know how eager he was for it to just be the two of them. "I just figured we could hang out. Y'know, just us."

"Oh, yeah, no problem. Keeping it low-key, I dig it," Kirishima immediately replied, not at all fazed by Bakugo's dismissal. Still smiling widely, he looked back over his shoulder at his hideous flexing arm clock on the other side of the room, checking the time. "What time should I head over?"

"Uh, I figure we can go in like an hour," Bakugo answered, scratching the inside of his wrist. Sniffing, he belatedly tacked on, "That alright?"

"Yeah, man, that's perfect!" Kirishima nodded excitedly, turning back around to face Bakugo. He dabbed his forehead with one end of his towel, wrinkling his nose and commenting, "It'll give me time to grab a shower. I stink."

Bakugo just nodded, not trusting himself to not say anything stupid, and turned on his heel to walk back to his own room. He heard Kirishima's door shut behind himself him with a soft click.

Walking into his room, he kicked the door shut with a deep, shaky sigh. The first phase of his plan had gone off without a hitch, now he had an hour to get ready for the next part.

And find a way to get his palms to stop sweating so fucking much.

The look of pure shock and awe on Kirishima's face upon seeing Bakugo's backyard made all of the anxiety and sweaty palms worth it.

"Dude," Kirishima breathed, absolutely wonderstruck, as he spun in a wide circle in the middle of the backyard. Arms outstretched, he made a full three-sixty, taking in every last detail, from the professionally manicured lawn to the laid stone patio and designer porch furniture.

Like a little kid let loose in a candy store, marveling at all the sweets laid out before him, Kirishima aimlessly wandered around the backyard, investigating whatever happened to catch his eye.

He let out an impressed whistle at the brand new grill Bakugo's dad had purchased only a few months ago, eyes widening comically at the gleaming sheen of the stainless steel. No doubt Kirishima was imagining all of the meat that could be cooked on the grill, licking his chops at the thought of burgers and steaks.

The well-maintained flower beds that ran the length of the tall wooden fence drew Kirishima's attention next. He oohed and aahed at the bright orange chrysanthemums and fiery red asters that Bakugo's mother had painstakingly planted and weeded and watered.

But what really drew his attention was the main attraction: the large steel fire pit in the middle of the backyard, nestled in the lush green grass. A cushioned patio swing stood against the back fence, parallel to the fire pit.

Kirishima's eyes had nearly bulged out of his head at the sight, jaw slack. Bakugo didn't think he had ever seen anyone so excited to see a backyard.

Then again, Kirishima had reacted the same way when he had first seen Bakugo's house. He had been over to Bakugo's a handful of times before they had moved into the dorms, often walking home with him despite the fact that he lived in Chiba.

And every time, Kirishima had been similarly awestruck by different facets of Bakugo's house. First, it had been the exterior, then the spacious interior followed by his weird obsession with the fact that there were two sinks in Bakugo's kitchen.

When Bakugo had pointed out that it wasn't a big deal, Kirishima had reminded him that he had grown up in a tiny apartment with his parents and horde of siblings.

"Your backyard is so awesome!" Kirishima announced, turning back around to Bakugo with a wide, toothy grin. Bakugo just rolled his eyes as he continued filling the fire pit with logs and kindling in the form of old newspapers and a few pine cones.

Kirishima helped himself to a seat on the swing, keeping one foot on the ground to rock the swing. He pulled the other leg up, setting his chin on his knee as he continued watching Bakugo carefully arrange the logs.

As he lit the bonfire with a small controlled explosion, Bakugo watched Kirishima from the corner of his eye. After his shower, he had changed into a gray sweatshirt and a pair of faded dark blue jeans that had a hole in the left knee. He looked beyond cozy, perfect for a chilly fall night.

He hadn't bothered re-styling his hair after showering, leaving it down. It somehow made him even more attractive than usual. Bakugo was fucked.

Which is why it took him a second to realize that Kirishima had just asked him something. Blinking a few times, Bakugo hummed, "Huh?"

It was Kirishima's turn to roll his eyes. "I asked where your parents are. They working tonight or something?"

"Nah, they're visiting my great aunt or some shit," Bakugo succinctly explained, tossing a few more sticks into the fire pit to crackle and burn. Taking a deep breath, he stood and moved to sit with Kirishima on the swing.

"You didn't go with them?" Kirishima asked, turning his head to keep his eyes on Bakugo. He frowned a bit, clearly confused.

"Obviously not," Bakugo scoffed, stretching his legs out in front of him and leaning back against the cushions of the swing. "Why the hell would I wanna go visit some old bat I don't even know?"

Kirishima snorted a laugh, shaking his head fondly. He pulled his other leg up onto the swing, tucking both beneath himself as he leaned against Bakugo's side, as tactile as ever.

Bakugo took over rocking the swing for them, basking in the feel of Kirishima leaning against him. They sat together for a while, watching the flames of the bonfire in companionable silence. Predictably, it was Kirishima who broke the silence while Bakugo desperately tried to figure out what the hell he was going to say.

"Thanks for inviting me, tonight," Kirishima said quietly, tilting his head up to flash a soft smile at Bakugo. "This is really nice."

Bakugo swallowed heavily. It was now or never.

"I, uh, wanted to tell you something," Bakugo managed to say, nervously licking his lips. He looked down at Kirishima, at those big red eyes and soft smile, words catching in his throat.

His trouble speaking didn't go unnoticed by Kirishima. Raising his head, Kirishima scooted a few inches closer. "What is it?"

"I like you," Bakugo blurted, the words bursting out of his mouth like one of his explosions, frenzied and louder than he had intended, potentially hazardous. But there was no going back now.

"Oh," Kirishima whispered, eyes wide, his mouth forming a perfect o. He blinked a few times, slowly digesting Bakugo's words.

Bakugo waited with bated breath for Kirishima to say something else, anything else. Even a rejection would be better than the silence, so uncharacteristic of Kirishima.

But Kirishima didn't say anything. At least, not at first.

He simply reached over to slide his hand into Bakugo's, interlacing their fingers. He didn't seem at all fazed by Bakugo's sweaty palms.

"Thank you for telling me," Kirishima said, ducking his chin with a small, self-conscious smile. Running his thumb over Bakugo's knuckles, he admitted, "If you didn't, I probably never woulda worked up the nerve to."

He raised his head to meet Bakugo's eyes again, smile still shy and reserved. "I like you, too, Bakugo. A lot."

Lifting their joined hands, he dipped his head to brush his lips against Bakugo's knuckles, kissing the back of his hand. Lowering their hands to his lap, he leaned more heavily against Bakugo's side, resting his flushed cheek on Bakugo's shoulder.

Bakugo let out the breath he had been holding, relief and happiness and disbelief rushing through him like a typhoon. But Kirishima — his rock, his lighthouse — was right there with him to guide him out of the storm. Sweaty palms be damned.

Send me Kiribaku prompts!

[thehelpfilm]

A Critical Film Review of “The Help”

         An entertaining and somewhat light-hearted take on the harsh realities of racism in 1960’s Mississippi, “The Help” is a deeply moving, poignant, and hopeful story about how courage and working together can create change. It serves as a reminder of how compassion, strength, empathy, and honesty have helped in making the world a less horrific place to live in.

         The film is based on Kathryn Stockett’s bestselling novel “The Help” which tells the story of African American maids working in white households in Jackson, Mississippi, during the early 1960s.

Synopsis

Eugenia "Skeeter" Phelan (played by Emma Stone) a young white woman who is an aspiring journalist starts by writing for a cleaning advice column “Miss Myrna” –– having no idea about how to clean, Skeeter enlists Aibileen (played by Viola Davis) to help her. Due to these series of events, they form a strong bond that later inspires Skeeter to write a book on the perspective of “The Help” –– that exposes the racism they are faced with as they work for white families.

Not only is this task illegal, it goes against all of her friends, her family, and her boyfriend as they all live quite happily with segregation in society. As time goes on, more maids get involved and have a great deal to say about their lives raising white children and serving their mothers.

Awards and Acclaim

Touchstone Pictures released The Help worldwide, with a general theatrical release in North America on August 10, 2011. The film was a critical and commercial success, receiving positive reviews and grossing $216 million in worldwide box office. The Help received four Academy Award nominations including Best Picture, Best Actress for Davis, and Best Supporting Actress for both Chastain and Spencer, with the latter winning the award. The film also won the Screen Actors Guild Award for Outstanding Performance by a Cast in a Motion Picture.

The Directing and Filming

The film is a historical period drama set in Mississippi. The setting looked realistic and it looks as if the movie was straight out from the 1960s. The costumes, the hair, even the television and other background props really encapsulated the time period. It was visually stunning. The transitions were on point. It was an immersive experience that really took you to the 60’s and I can’t see any flaws when it comes to the filming of the scenes.

Each frame meant something. Every scene was necessary in telling the story. An example would be the scene wherein Skeeter and Constantine, her family maid who happened to just disappear, were having a conversation about the school dance and how no boy has asked her yet. They were talking beneath a huge willow tree.

In this scene, Constantine and Skeeter feel safe under the shade. It shows how they are free to have a conversation there because they are hidden under the tree and no one else could judge them. This scene also shows how Constantine was more of like a mother to her than her actual mother which is a common theme in this movie.

The maids seem to know far more than the mothers of the white children they take care of. They motivated the kids and made them feel important.

The Characters

“You is Kind, You is Smart, You is Important” a significant line in the film said by Nanny Aibileen Clack. She says this to Moe Mobley, the child of Elizabeth, her boss. The character is seen to be taking care of the child even better than her actual mother.

The white women are seen as snarky and oppressive to their maids, but not all of them. Some have good stories and treat them well like in the case of Celia Foote –– who has never once hired a maid before. Minny becomes her maid and helps her in cleaning and cooking for Celia’s husband Johnny.

Celia is seen as an outcast because she comes from a trailer park community. People who come from that and suddenly get into the suburban lifestyle because they married a guy whose lifestyle is white, rich, elite often get shunned because they are seen as “white trash”.

This is seen when the ladies pretend to hide and turn off the music when Celia knocks at their door carrying a pie that Minny made.

I especially enjoyed the dynamic between Minny and Celia. It was sweet and serious at times. It showed that not all white people are bad, some were allies and good hearted people just like Skeeter and Celia.

The acting was believable and convincing. None of the characters seemed flat to me, everyone had character development, some stayed the same like Hilly Holbrook but as an antagonist, she did her job of being hated and despised.

Skeeter’s mom was another character I thoroughly enjoyed. Her journey throughout the film really made a good character story arc. At first we find out she has cancer and she wants Skeeter to get married and find a husband quick. Forcing her to go on dates and getting excited when Stuart came looking for Skeeter.

But she ignores Skeeter whenever she asks about what happened to their maid Constantine. She’s unsupportive of what Skeeter is writing about at first, turn off the television when the black servants and Skeeter were watching national news about the Civil Rights movement telling her to not inspire them or give them any ideas.

She has a change of heart in the end and reveals what happened to Constantine and ultimately becomes a supportive mother even defending Skeeter from Hilly who barges in their house threatening to ruin Skeeter’s life.

I enjoyed the strong female characters and the dynamic between all of them. The dialogue was also very well-written and humorous despite the fact that they are talking about racism, they still have some good comedy in there.

The Historical Context and Message Behind the Film

The stories that the Black maids told Skeeter for her novel revealed that the Jackson society at that time was very racist. The maids were unappreciated by their white employers as well as disrespected in the manner in which they were treated. The wages that they were paid were deplorable when compared to the work that was assigned to them. They were the ones that raised their white employers’ children without the input of the parents. This was despite the fact that the Blacks were considered dirty, lazy, disease–ridden and having less intelligence that the average white person.

Unfortunately, the film falls short of a credible presentation, as the reality of the situation is not tackled with any degree of seriousness. One of the most jarring elements is the absence of any reference to the mass struggles that shattered the Jim Crow structure –– which was the the name of the racial caste system which operated primarily. Jim Crow was more than a series of rigid anti-black laws. It was a way of life.

There were several area within the movie that describe how life was really like in Jackson was like.

There is a scene in the movie where Aibileen was in the bathroom, built specifically for her because Hilly says that black people are disease-ridden and should have separate bathrooms. In several scenes of the movie, the mothers tell their child to not go to those “dirty” bathrooms used by maids or else they will get sick.

The segregation of bathrooms was so real that in the first scenes of the movie we see Hilly putting pencil marks on the toilet paper in the bathroom to make sure that Minny wasn’t using her toilet.

The maids travel on buses that are for black people only or are at the back of a bus with the white people at the front.

This is similar to the situation back then where everything was separated. Similar to an apartheid in South Africa. Wherein, blacks could not attend the same schools and churches as the white people.

“They killed him” –– Aibileen tells the story of how her son died and explained that the white bosses loaded him up in the back of a pickup after being ran over. They dropped him off in front of the colored hospital, honked the horn, and drove away.

Also, a scene where Yule Mae gets arrested in a violent way and the white folks just watch and act as if nothing happened.

The movie shows some issues of discrimination and segregation but in my opinion it was a bit sugarcoated. Sure it can teach people about how life was like back then for African American but it does not show how bad it really was. It was violent, abusive, oppressive and frankly it was not funny. It could have done more but truth be told, the message was there and it did a great job of portraying it even if it was kind of stereotypical and whitewashed.

Whitewashing in a sense that Skeeter is seen as the hero and the brave one. Well she was brave but is it really appropriate that we are applauding this courageous, fictional white gIrl?

Truth be told it is fiction and it is meant to entertain but millions of people saw this film and might believe this to be real and an accurate representation of who were the real heroes of those times. It was a combination of black people who fought for their rights alongside white allies.

It’s not a perfect film, of course one movie cannot represent the vile actualities of the racism experienced by Black people during that time. In fact, this movie could have done more but chose to play it safe. Given the theme of the movie which is Racism during the 60’s, it’s a heavy topic that carries a lot of historical weight around it.

It could have been a more hard-hitting drama that would have made viewers bawl their eyes out after the film but like I said, it is a heavy topic to deal with. The writers and directors chose to make it light-hearted and easy to take in. It is told in an accessible and pleasurable way that almost anyone of all ages can watch and enjoy the film.

Do I recommend everyone to watch it? Yes. Do I think people should just stop at this film and use it as their basis for historical context on racism in the 60s? No.

Did I enjoy it? Yes, very much so.

[wattpadgirlll-blog]

The First “Chapter” in Shattered Reality

The First Prologue

On a planet that is surrounded by many friends, and one that orbits around little moonlets and baby-stars, there are three magical kingdoms. Planets in the Universe are many, but the one that one may focus on just now looks, really, a bit like Earth.

Blue, with large blobs of green - very simple, except for the facts that there are rather many strokes of lemon and orange and ivory. Those are just the birthmarks of the planet; why, when the Planet was first created, the birthmarks stood out bumpy and uneven; but, after millions of years, they have melted into the ground, which is where one can now experience the magic in its original form - not shrunk, not made simpler - just not messed with, all in all.

The Kingdom where everything takes place is called "Consilii" (in Latin) - or else "Resourceful", in English. It may seem peculiar that a fantasy kingdom would steal a word from typical "Earth" - but the fact is that the Consiles - the people that live there - do have a bit of an inkling of "Latin", for it is most important, and is taught a little bit at school where the young Consiles go.

 Consilii has four main islands; Dragnia, The Triplets (people always counted The Three as one small island, because of their vexingly-small size), Ruthenium Picke and the respectable One Without A Name, also known as "The King".

Dragnia is an island where dragons roam all they like; there are many birthmarks there, but they are all very small, unlike the ones at "Ruthenium Picke" (known as "The Island of Dark") and the One Without a Name.

Dragonia is often thought of as "The plain one" in the whole of the Planet, because of how simple and wild it is; full of trees, rocks, and a little town named "Ludovic", named after the hero of dragons - or else the first Consile to ever tame one of those beasts. Mind, dragons aren't always horrendous!

The Triplets are simple also - just carefree little islands, where people live - rather, people who just want to get away "from the magical life" and spend the rest of their days in sweet air, perfumed by daisies.

Ruthenium Picke is much different from the rest, however; that was where the King of Darkness was born. But that was over a thousand year ago. Nevertheless, goblins still prowl in the night, and there are plenty of cursed castles, all in ruins, selkies, and many other nightmares.

Now, for the last "part" - The One Without a Name! That is where the capital of Consilii is - right in "City of Tilla". Nobody knows where the name had originated from, but no matter - peasants and normal townsfolk that lived in Terese Town said that Tilla was the richest; it had a castle, and many rich manors flecked all about. But really, one only had to befriend King Martin to get the trust of his wife, Riley (quite an un-royal name!) - and then, they can move in, poor peasants or not, for the Royals are friendly, and rather very dangerously naive! The people that live in The Corner Village don't know much about Tilla, or Terese; because, as one may have noticed, it was away from both of those "marks", and instead built at the corner of "The King". Fisherman said they were content with what they got, and I think so, too. Candidly, The Corner Village isn't all bad, save for the fact that it's over a hundred kilometers from the "Place of the orcs", where the respectable, muscular, long-faced, man-eating monsters still live to this day. Also, The Corner Village often feels cold, for it is right by the "Great sea", and it is a fact that many a - or most of the - Consiles like the cold.

 Oh, but of course it shouldn't at all make sense for it to be very cold in the East, eh? The thing is that the Planet - and not only that - the whole one hundred and twenty-three planets! - aren't very, so to say, logical. Not quite yet, however. Being in the twenty-first century means nothing to the Consiles, if one talks only about them - why, they don't even have an inkling about what "a year" means. To them, there are no "decades", save for the "centuries" and "millenniums" and so, so on - to them, on their wrong, peculiar planets, there is only time - "time to make time", as one greatly worshipped poet said, somewhere in the ninth century, if one slips back into normal human language!

And so back to the peculiarity; one must notice that, since the planet is often horribly wrong, that the gods choose to turn chilly or send bright beams of sunlight down upon the Planet only when, well, they feel like it. Other times, the gods and occasional goddesses (for being ignorant of real "rights", females on the Planet are still believed to not be capable of much) lean over the clouds to gaze down upon the Planet, and cry, and laugh, and tear their hair (if they have any, mind) as they follow the lives of different people, all at different times of day and night.

Not to believe in the "Upper" people is a bit of a woe - a sin - for most Consiles, actually, to be frank. It is almost a rule to be Catholic, and to strongly lean on religion as a friend that never ceases. For the unfortunate type, it seems awful to have an "undying friend", and if a mother scorns her child for not reading the bible, it is always heard in the community the stern words from the pale-from-rage lips, almost unmoving, "You will go to hell, my dear, when Life flies out of your vain knuckle!" or something of that sort.

It, strictly, is not necessary to believe - and to trust - "Those Upper" people, whatever the priests may say. As once a boy, clad in grey, torn clothes said to his enraged father - "Dad, you see, you say that the Upper-ers can fix anything! And you told me that a priest is a kind of church minister, did you not? So it is by law the priest's job to mend things like the Upper-ers if he worships them so, is it not? Well, why don't you blame HIM for not fixing my clothes after I jumped into dirt just to save a caterpillar? Oh, and now I tell you - those priests know nothing! Nothing!"

Twenty years later, the boy, named Eddi House, became the "church minister", for he seemed to have forgotten what he had said only two decades - or rather, "some time" ago. But until his barbaric father died, he always came to him at evening to hit him and say - "You know nothing, son, nothing, nothing!"

Nevertheless, being Catholic is not bad, and even if one little rebel gets an occasional scolding, often for the rest of their lives they carry the hopes of going to "Heaven" if they rightly behaved or else, if were excellent all their lives, become one of the "Upper" people. One day, some time ago (actually, it was ten years previously!), a poor peasant's wife saw her husband die and then, a few months later, said that she saw him smiling at her, peering over the edge, looking very young and happy.

But one had to be clever, cunning, sly, bright (in the sense of being smart), positive, determined motivating and strong-minded to get Up There. However, it is unlikely that any of the Consiles were as perfect - in that sense.

For an interesting fact, there were already twelve Upper-ers, eight of which were men and four were women.

There is Mistress Snowdrop, the fragile young woman with falling white hair over her albino face. Nobody knew where she lived before she came to be one of the Upper-ers, but many still think she is from one of the Triplets, being very slight and tender, and seemingly built of love and health and the breath of the wild. Surely her name wasn't such a ridicule before - rather, it was Stephanie Daphen.

Then, there is Lord Pebblar, a man with a scruffy black head, the same moustache, and very wide, very expressive eyes of the tints that are the colours of the birthmarks of the Planet; orange, white, yellow. And so if one stares into them for long... well, somebody once said that they would get paralyzed if they looked into the two pools for too long - into the pools that sun cut through one, slicing the air with malice - or that was at least the "somebody" said.

Next was Lord Merge, a stout old man with long greying hair and a fantastical look about his blue-veined face.

Forwards on the list, Mistress Stone, the seemingly stony (pun intended, if there is one) thirty-year-old of dull lips and high cheekbones.

Lord Labestar, next. He was the most cruel, surely! He had piercing eyes, just like his brother, a twisted little mouth and a bumpy face - in the means of "full of zits". And not one could describe the droll look of his unimpressive, shallow eyes - not one. Not one except Pebblar.

The others aren't worth mentioning - actually, surely they are, but one gets the point from the first Five, yes?

Now, moving onto hell: when a woman speaks sternly to her child, saying they were to go to hell, she does mean "Ruthenium Picke", if she is one of the Consiles. The truth is, that every kingdom has an island, all evil, flowing with dark blood. It is the mere believe that after life, if one is bad, then they are sent to "Ruthenium Picke" (again, if they were from Consilii). But the beliefs were so strong (are, perhaps, still!), that they drive the people mad if they really put their mind onto being good and if one unfortunate cully someday spills "Sap wine" on their suit, then of course the poor man feels restless and ashamed until they die! Fancy, such a little thing!

 Sap wine may be brought up now, just as well. Now, sap in Consilii is a sort of bitter, round yellow seed dotted in crimson that is said to be very good for the body. It also tastes nice - very nice - when introduced to wine; because the slight grape effect, mixed in with the tongue-biting flavour, may make a rather good lunch; just say one had been kicked out of their home for, why, doesn't that happen really very often? - and one stopped in front of a stall in one of the markets to buy some Sap wine from a fat little seller (generally fat, they are, with no offense meant, because every once in a while the seller sneaks a bite or a sip into their mouth, building up the habit bit by bit), and then took a sip while hurrying to work. Well, it is very hard, the wine, and tends to stay in one's stomach for quite a while afterwards because of the "pressure".

Another national food is red cheese, which one must not describe, and let another know that the one thing that makes the cheese so red is the blood of an orc.

 One must also be rather interested why orcs don't live at Ruthenium Picke. And the answer is simple; they just like The King, with all its healthy grasses and plants and soul-healing (pardon, if that is no word!) rains. It was a long, long time ago that they had moved from Ruthenium Picke into the mountains! And the mountains are very small, but they are very steep and sharp also, mind, that they never could be mentioned on the Official map of Consilii. Because it can only display large, major items!

Now, of course there are other magical folk that live on The King. For an instance, the Djinns, living five hundred kilometers from the "Corner Village", are really very jolly and proper and good! Old little men, going on about their daily jobs, bringing back their wives and kids food. The only thing unnatural about them is that they, of course, can make one's wish come true. Just like that, one must assure the other!

Then, second-lastly, are the pixies. They live in the "castle" ruins, with sharp, pointed faces, mischievous natures and playful habits. Usually, they don't disturb one - unless one promises them blackberries and brings none. It is deathly to mess with those!

Finally, there are the sirens. And after this, one never must say that The King is all good!

Mind, they aren't the everyday lovely, friendly mermaids - no, they are the sirens; the ones that live in the "Singing waters"! One is most likely already familiar with what they do - sing, sing, and then take those poor sailors down to the bottom of the ocean to rip off their heads. However, it's not only sailors that they take down there...

And so, this is Consilii - in all its glory!

[darlingpetao3]

For Asgard (Chapter 19/?)

The last several minutes pass in a dizzying haze. It kind of feels like you aren't even present in your own body. Could this be sleepwalking? With your luck, unlikely. If only it was that easy to wake up from your problems.

While you were in your hazy reverie, it would appear that you had been taken to a cabin room to wallow in your horrid memories and thoughts. What will these people do to me now that I'm on my own? Lock me up forever? Torture me? Kill me?

You lean back against the cold metal wall of the room and slide down until you reach the floor. Your hands wrap around your legs – vulnerable. Forehead touches knees – alone. Everything has changed so quickly...

The door to the cabin whooshes open. It's a S.H.I.E.L.D guard.

“Come with me please, Miss.”

Oh great. The end is nigh.

Having nothing left to fight for, you obey and follow the man to a control room with a large glass table above a group of what you assumed were analysts and technicians. At this table sits two familiar faces; previously your rivals: Stark and Rogers. You weren't sure what you would consider them now. Also present at this gathering, is Eyepatch, in the middle of giving a speech.

“-The Avengers Initiative. The idea was to bring together a group of remarkable people. See if they could become something more. See if they could work together when we needed them to. Fight the battles that we never could. Phil Coulson died still believing in that idea. In heroes.”

Upon the untimely combination of both the utterance of Coulson's name and your eyes catching on a handful of bloody trading cards on the table, you emit a distressed noise. The men turn around to see you standing there with a slumped posture and arms crossed. You remain silent, still not knowing why you're here.

“Uh, hi. Sorry to... I was brought here...?”

“Gentlemen, the newest member to join our ranks.”

“What do you think we are, soldiers?” Stark says sharply. “Damn it, Fury, we are not soldiers.”

“I don't know what's happening,” you say cautiously. “But just so we're clear, I'm not joining anything. It's nothing personal, I just want to go-”

“That's it. He made it personal,” interrupts Stark.

“What?” you ask.

“Loki. He made it personal,” he muses aloud. “Hit us right where we live. Why?”

Rogers speaks up. “To tear us apart.”

“Yeah, divide and conquer's great, but he knows he has to take us out to win, right? That's what he wants. He wants to beat us, he wants to be seen doing it, he wants an audience. Loki is a full-tilt diva. He wants flowers, he wants parades, monuments built to the sky with his name on it.”

“That does sound like him,” you mutter.

“Which brings us to you, Missy. Loki's better half. You know the guy like no one else.”

“What are you getting at?”

“You can fight with us,” says Rogers. “You know his weak points, and I'm sure you yourself are one of them.”

“This is a bit much, I don't-”

“Don't you want redemption for what happened? To play for the right side? Loki will continue to destroy everything in his path unless you help us stop him,” Rogers pleads. “Do you have any training? Martial arts? Weapon handling?”

“Yes. Believe it or not, Uncle Sam, I can fight.”

Tony laughs. “Uncle Sam. I like her already.”

“Watch it, Money Bags. I can also wield a knife.”

“How are you at persuasion?” asks Rogers.

“Persuasion?”

“This might work if you're able to convince Loki to stand down.”

“Nobody can convince Loki of anything,” you tell them. “He does what he wants.”

“But you two are more than partners, right?”

“I'm not too sure anymore.” There's no way you two could be “partners” now. He went down a path you cannot follow. A short silence hangs in the air. Rogers breaks it with the number one question.

“Are you willing to help us?” You relinquish your arms from their folded position – no longer in a defensive stance.

“Yes. I'll help you.”

You never thought in a million years you would be catching a lift from Iron Man above New York City, and yet here you were.

“You remember the plan?” he asks.

“Yes, and thank goodness it's a plan I'm actually in on for once.”

“Are you sure you can fight? Loki will probably have my security under his spell. They'll come after you.”

“You know, Stark, just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I can't handle myself.”

“You sound just like Pepper.” He sets you down near the Stark Tower main doors, your point of entry. Stark will fly up to his penthouse and distract Loki, while you make your way up the tower from the inside. You are the element of surprise.

“Good luck, Missy.”

“You too.”

“Oh and don't worry about Cap's theory on Loki's power. We'll be there for you if things do take a turn.”

You nod, trying not to think about it too much. “Right. Hey, Stark?”

“Yeah?”

“Just don't underestimate him.” He gives a single nod and salutes you. As he bolts upwards, you burst into the building and find, as Stark had predicted, a group of big muscly men in suits with glazed over eyes are ready to stop your break in. But what the poor unsuspecting security team doesn't know was all that you had been through.

They never stood a chance.

None of them was ready for your otherworldly martial arts training. You introduce these grown men to the floor, but not before rendering them unconscious with either a kick, punch, or a strangle. They'll wake up eventually, but not anytime soon. Stark should hold interviews for a new security team when this is all over and done with.

You book it to the elevators and find Stark's personal lift to his penthouse apartment. He had already given you the passcode to operate it because it will absolutely not function without it. You type in 73777 or if you spell it out on the keypad with letters, P-E-P-P-E-R. Even Stark should know better than to have his girlfriend's name as a password. You guess he was another one of those hopeless romantic types beneath his rough exterior.

Maybe it's the nerves, but the elevator feels as if it's taking two freaking years to reach the top floor. On the way up though, you see your reflection in the mirrored interior wearing the slimming S.H.I.E.L.D agent uniform they gave you back on the flying base. Damn, this looks amazing on me.

The lift comes to a halt. Finally, the penthouse. It's showtime.

The elevator door opens to a view of a complicated machine outside on the terrace and it looks like the Old Man Scientist is out there tinkering with it, still under Loki's control. You hear two voices coming from around the corner. All you need to do is take a few steps and stand there. Simple, right? Maybe everything you once saw in Loki will come flooding back to him when he sees you, shake him out of his madness.

You didn't hear exactly what Stark said, but it must have pertained to you because Loki turns around and freezes, surprised at the sight of you.

“My darling, you've come-” His voice hopeful and glad to see you once more, but he breaks off and looks closer at you. “No...”

“Loki-”

“She's with us now, Reindeer Games.”

Dammit, Stark. You shoot him a glance as if to command him to stay out of this.

“After all we have been through? Are you choosing them? Please tell me you are going to appeal to my humanity?”

“Uh, actually she's planning on threatening you.”

“Shut up, Stark,” you say through your teeth.

“Nothing you can say can change my mind (Y/N). No matter how much you mean to me.”

“Anyone want a drink?” Loki and you ignore him as he pours some whiskey in a glass.

“The Chitauri are coming. Nothing will change that. It is for your own good that you leave before they devastate the city.”

How is it that Loki is still trying to protect you even though you are no longer together, no longer on his side. This surprises you, quite frankly.

“Don't you worry about that, Rock of Ages.” Spotlight-loving Stark always has to be the centre of attention, no matter what room he's in, doesn't he? “Your beautiful Kryptonite here is tough stuff. After all, you do have to be tough to be an Avenger. Being beautiful does help, too...”

Loki looks at him, you can tell he's wondering what that one word was.

“What, Avengers? That's what we call ourselves. Sort of like a team. Earth's mightiest heroes type of thing.”

“Yes, I have met them,” Loki says, annoyed. Stark keeps rambling on about every individual that makes up the Avengers while fidgeting with something around his wrist, but you can't tell what, exactly. He must be buying time. Stark advances on Loki, which you think is far from a good idea.

“There is no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes and maybe it's too much for us, but it's all on you. Because if we can't protect the Earth, you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it.” He takes a bold sip of his whiskey.

“How will your friends have time for me, when they are so busy fighting you?” Loki taps the spear to Stark's chest.

Oh no!

But nothing happens. Loki tries again but to no avail. “This usually works.”

It's the arc reactor in his chest. It's interfering with the stone! That's lucky. Stark shrugs.

“Well, performance issues are not uncommon... one out of five.” Loki grabs him by the throat and throws him across the room. He stalks Stark like a wild animal going in for the kill.

“You will all fall before me,” he growls.

“Loki, stop it!” You start to go over to stop him but he throws Stark out the window, shattering it with great force.

“NO!”

In a flash of red and gold, Stark's Iron Man suit whizzes past you and follows him out the window in a nose dive to the street below. You only pray it gets to him in time.

Out of the corner of your eye, Loki starts stalking you now. But you stand your ground because there's no way in hell you're backing down from him in a time like this.

“Darling, you know I love you,” his voice is not at all soothing as how you would expect it to be saying these words. “But for what I am about to do, I am truly sorry for this. It is the only way now.” You hold your breath. Loki raises the glowing sceptre to your chest and contact is made.

“Now,” he says authoritatively. “Join me again, Mistress.”

You look at him with wide eyes.

“No.”

Loki's expression is beyond confused as he mouths Wha-?

“How is this possible? I don't understand.” You can't believe he even tried that on you. He would have controlled you back to his side, made you do gods know what. Even though it was brought up in the debrief with Stark and Rogers, you never actually thought Loki would try it. Rogers mentioned there could always be a possibility...

“It was a theory the Captain had after much discussion,” you say. “But ultimately...” you force your voice to stay strong and will your tears to stay put. “My heart still belongs to you.”

You let him soak up your words. “Only, in the purest sense. I don't know the science or the magic behind it, but your sceptre won't work on me. My heart, my mind, my body,” you choke back a sob. “Every part of me is yours despite how much I hate everything you're doing.”

“I- I do not know what to say.”

“Say you'll end this, Loki. I'm begging you. Please.”

“I can't, darling,” he almost whispers. “It's too late.”

“Please. It's never-”

Loki gestures to the terrace. The Tesseract in the Scientist's machine beams a blinding light up to the sky, where a hole opens, finding never ending herds of alien beings flying down into New York City.

The Chitauri army.

Laser blasts shoot out from their extraterrestrial vehicles, attacking innocent civilians. It was too late. The chaos has only just begun.

A/N: Guys, I know it's corny, but I hope you were able to suspend your disbelief with the whole "sceptre-not-working-on-you-because-your-heart-is-still-his" thing.

Part 20

Tag List: @gerardwayisapotato, @theloneavenger1995, @magellan-88

[briangroth27]

You’re a Wonder, Wonder Woman!

I was skeptical. I've never been a huge Wonder Woman fan; I didn't dislike the character, but she never really clicked with me. The recent DC films haven’t thrilled me either: I left Man of Steel without feeling hopeful or inspired; prerequisites for Superman stories. I didn't like Batman V Superman. Suicide Squad was fun, but a mess. Then the Wonder Woman trailers appeared and my interest was piqued. I wanted it to be good, but that was cautious optimism. Then reviews came out, the great word of mouth swept me up in the hype, and I couldn't wait to see it! Still, I’m sure my excitement didn’t compare to that of someone who'd grown up loving Wonder Woman and knew all about her; who’s inspired and empowered by her existence. Outside Lynda Carter's show, Justice League/Justice League Unlimited, and some animated movies, Wonder Woman’s had considerably fewer appearances than heroes like Batman and Spider-man, so I’d imagine this is a massive deal for her fans. With the unreasonable pressure of being the bar by which Hollywood will measure the bankability of not only female-led action and superhero films, but female stars and directors, this movie not only had to please the fans who’d waited so long, but it had to be a critically loved financial hit. Fortunately it’s all those things and more: Wonder Woman is outstanding! Go see this now!

Gal Gadot is fantastic, taking Diana (the best part of BvS) back to the past to show us who she is and how she came to be. Her Diana is charming, hopeful, new to Man's World but wise, empathetic but fully willing to silence those who'd hurt others, and aware of the great responsibility the Amazons have to the world, but still able to revel in her power. That last point is something we absolutely need to see more of in female superheroes: too often, the only women having fun with their abilities are the villains and "bad girls." It's great to see Diana grinning at her ability to do things like scale a wall with her bare hands; who wouldn't be overjoyed to accomplish these feats? We see a lot of sides to Diana as she goes from eager Wonder Tot (Lilly Aspell) to headstrong Wonder Girl (Emily Carey) to facing the horrors of Man's World during the First World War, and Gadot does it perfectly (the younger two actresses are great as well). Diana’s transition from thinking it’s cool to fight to witnessing the reality of war in trenches and gassed towns is extremely well-conveyed. Even so, Diana’s the inspirational, hopeful hero I’ve been wanting from the DCEU. Gadot also brings a wonderful sense of exuberant fascination with the perks of Man’s World, like the first baby she’s ever seen and her very first ice cream cone. Gadot, Chris Pine (Steve Trevor), and Lucy Davis (Etta Candy) have a great sense for screwball comedy as they play male and female social mores of the period for laughs, giving the characters a classic feel. Others have compared Gadot’s Diana to Christopher Reeve’s Superman and I’d say that’s dead-on: in much the same way Reeve brought Clark Kent and Superman to life, Gadot is Wonder Woman.

Gadot is backed up behind the camera by Patty Jenkins, who directs this beautifully. The action is clean and crisp; even periodic slow-motion fight highlights, which I'm generally not a fan of, are woven in nicely. Her pacing is great, taking time to breathe in each environment and to touch on each character without sacrificing the story’s momentum. Most importantly, Gadot is never exploited by the camera; if you want to see what a movie shot without the male gaze looks like, see this. Jenkins gets a great balance of humor and stakes from all of her actors and instills a Richard Donner Superman quality in Diana and Steve's relationship that feels timeless. I would've thought this and the period setting would feel at odds with the bombastic Zack Snyder-styled fights in the climax, but Jenkins blended the styles really well. The climax does look a little too CGI—it was noticeable but not enough to take me out of the movie—but it was still fantastic. There were two minor moments where the editing confused me for a second; not enough to create a plot hole, but more like the scene had been trimmed and I had to connect the dots about a minor sequence of events. Again, nothing egregious. There’s no reason Jenkins shouldn’t be getting offers to direct all the action movies now! I’d love to see her take on Man of Steel 2 (along with many more Wonder Woman sequels, of course!).

Chris Pine was charming and funny as secret agent Steve Trevor. I loved how constantly thrown by Diana he was and I'm glad he wasn't played or written as a cliché suave "ladies man" spy. He wasn’t made a fool by Diana either; the film knows how to make her great without making him incompetent. In fact, Pine and Gadot built one of the best-developed romances in comic book films with their fantastic chemistry. When they disagreed, it felt natural and relevant to the movie’s themes. Etta Candy was pure, undiluted fun and I'd love to see further adventures between her and Diana. Steve's mercenary friends brought some good texture and diversity to the film as well. My favorite was Sameer (Said Taghmaoui), who provided some great comic relief and truths about life plans. I also liked the Chief (Eugene Brave Rock), a Native American, especially when he drew a connection between the Germans and Americans for Diana, showing her all sides have evil in their past. Ewen Bremner’s Charlie, a sniper who can’t shoot, was interesting as a guy who wanted to be a hero but simply couldn’t. As author Zack Stenz pointed out on Twitter, all of these men (and Steve) kept fighting the good fight in the face of a world that had damaged them. I like that message a lot.

Connie Neilson's Hippolyta was a smart, idealistic queen of the Amazons and her idealism coming partially out of fear for her daughter's safety was an interesting, understandable twist. That's a cool facet to her role as wise ruler, and a testament to Neilson’s ability that she never came off as selfish for prizing Diana above everyone else. Robin Wright's Antiope was a pragmatic counterpoint to her queen: live in peace, but train (and train Diana) for war in case it happens. I enjoyed her training sessions with Diana and wish we’d seen more of how she and Hippolyta interacted outside of this issue. Ann Wolfe’s Artemis fell between Hippolyta and Antiope’s outlooks, backing up Diana’s assertion that they should hear Steve out, and I hope we see more of her in the sequel (in the comics, she too ventured to Man’s World and even took over as Wonder Woman; I wonder if she will at least visit her sister on screen). When war came to Themyscira's shores, the Amazons were awesome, effortlessly badass fighters! I’m sure their natural athleticism comes from the cool idea of using actual female athletes from all over the world to play the Amazons. I hope we get to see more of them in future installments!

Dr. Maru/Doctor Poison (Elena Anaya) was a great, creepy villain; another character I wish we'd seen more of. I didn't need to know why she was obsessed with poison or anything, but I wanted to know what other mayhem she could cause with her variety of chemicals. She felt like she was ripped directly from the early pulp comics and that was awesome! Danny Houston's villainous German General Ludendorf was as imposing as he needed to be to drive the film’s villainy. He and Maru get an incredible, unexpected moment of mustache-twirling glee involving an ineffective gas mask that I wish we'd see more of from onscreen villains.

World War 1 proved to be a great setting. It was refreshing to visit a time often overlooked in movies and superhero stories, usually in favor of World War II. That the war was compounded and exacerbated over previous treaties between nations isn't pointed out in the film, but I think that's an interesting indication of just how inhumane man can become over something as innocuous as an alliance. In hindsight, it also strengthens Ares’ theory. WW1's trench warfare also plays an important role, displayed in the instantly iconic "No Man's Land" sequence (which was insanely almost cut!). Someone online said it looked like she was fighting war itself, and that’s the most perfect expression of that sequence I can imagine. Diana rising out of the trenches and walking into battle to make her debut as Wonder Woman was astounding!

I loved the use of color in the movie, something I've not been a fan of in the washed-out Man of Steel and Batman V Superman. Themyscira was bright and vibrant, and those colors carry over to the dreary, smog-choked London and the haze-filled trenches via Diana's Wonder Woman armor. While her suit isn’t as bright as Lynda Carter’s was, it's as though she literally brings color and life into Man's World. The score was good and felt period-appropriate. I had a giant smile on my face whenever Diana's awesome theme from BvS came on; if that doesn't make you pump your fist and cheer for Diana, I don't know what music would. Well, maybe the Lynda Carter one; it's a shame they didn't at least reference that here. I wish they’d found a way for someone to say something like "all the world is waiting for you."

I hope Wonder Woman opens real-life doors for more female directors and convinces studios that women can headline action films. A $100+ million opening weekend and one of the smallest second-week drops in superhero movie history should shatter the lame excuse that female superheroes make bad leads, and the 52% female audiences should prove that superheroes aren’t just a guys’ hobby: they’re for everyone. Since the population of the country is roughly 51% female and 49% male, that audience stat would seem to indicate the film is resonating evenly across the board. I hope Captain Marvel (along with Batgirl, Gotham City Sirens, and Sony’s Silver Sable and Black Cat film) continue this trend, but just four DC/Marvel female-led movies in the next several years isn’t enough. Marvel Studios has no excuse not to finally give the already Box Office-proven Scarlett Johanssen a Black Widow movie. They should cast Gina Torres as She-Hulk and make the solo movies they apparently can’t with Hulk. Fox should capitalize on their female X-men. Can Sony still get Emma Stone to do an alternate universe Spider-Gwen?? It’s fitting Wonder Woman proved there’s an audience for female superheroes, given she was the first, but she shouldn’t be the last and it should’ve happened much sooner.

I’m not a skeptic anymore and this movie’s had me hunting down Wonder Woman comics for the past two weeks. For me, Wonder Woman is the best DC movie since Batman. That, Richard Donner’s Superman, and this are their best live-action films and WW is certainly one of the finest superhero films ever! I hope it meant as much to Diana’s fans and those she inspires. It’s absolutely worth seeing in theaters!

  Full Spoilers...

I was worried with the way the creators had described Diana as a "retired hero" preceding BvS that she'd end this movie victorious but hopeless. I was very happy that didn't happen and instead, she ended the flashbacks knowing that love is the way to save the world. This was the hope Man of Steel left me wanting and I'm glad Diana finally brought it to the DC films. I can't believe a Diana who's realized this was simply inactive for all those decades (there's no way she sat out World War II), so I have to assume she (with Etta as her handler?) has been a secret hero ever since. I'd love to see those stories!

Like Lois Lane for Superman, I liked that Steve showed Diana humanity's potential, even though he was also connected to our worst impulses via the American treatment of Native Americans. I wish we could get another period film to see more of Gadot and Pine together; his death was sad and I'm sorry he won't be in future sequels.

The movie isn’t explicit about it, but I read Steve’s arrival through the barrier to Themyscira as a direct result of Diana’s first experience with her godkiller potential. I think that energy blast weakened the barrier; otherwise, how could Steve be the first person to ever stumble onto the island? I like that Diana’s first taste of her true power literally opens a larger world for her, bringing her into contact with all the good and evil of Man’s World.

Though Antiope’s death is somewhat cliche in the “dead mentor” sense, I liked that Diana wasn’t driven to action simply because she’d lost someone. She always wanted to go help and Antiope’s death didn’t change or inspire that part of her. If anything, it was the first wake-up call to how serious battle actually was.

I thought it was a little random that Diana was unable to return to Paradise Island, though maybe Hippolyta's "If you go, you may never return" was supposed to mean "you might die." If that wasn't my misunderstanding, then Diana trying to reconnect with her people and possibly lead them into the world could be a cool premise for a sequel.

I really liked that Ares wasn't who he seemed to be, or even the second-most obvious option (I thought he was Dr. Poison for most of the movie). Making him an unassuming good guy (David Thewlis) was a great twist, foreshadowed in hindsight by Diana's admonishment of the generals who'd hide in their offices. Plus, as I saw pointed out elsewhere, he's totally right about the armistice leading to worse horrors in World War II. I think that's a neat corruption of the idea of peace, which is a nice counterpoint to the seeming contradiction of waging war to establish peace. I enjoyed Ares' belief that war brings out the "best" in man; that it's the truest expression of our nature. What a great counterpoint to Diana's belief in our inner goodness, and a perfect way to stage their final battle as an argument! I do wish he hadn’t worn his comic book armor; that’s what made the climax look a little too CGI.

I thought it was interesting that the movie essentially boiled the Greek pantheon down to analogues for the Christian God (Zeus) and Devil (Ares), right down to Ares giving humanity knowledge of evil rather than making them do anything. Diana's fatherless birth also makes her a Greek spin on Jesus (kudos for keeping the classic claymation origin!). I think it would've been better if Aphrodite had granted Diana life instead of Zeus to increase the girl power and to go along with the “love is the way to save the world” idea (Aphrodite also brought Diana to life in the original version of the story). Ultimately, however, this revision didn't bother me as anything more than a missed opportunity. As much texture from the pantheon was lost to backstory (unnecessarily; there's no reason they couldn't have just been locked out from this realm), it's a cool way to twist the afterlife of the DCEU. Will they follow the New 52 comics to introduce Darkseid and Co. as rising "New Gods" in Justice League?

I hope they continue to unpack Diana's mythological heritage in the sequel. The gods are unfortunately gone, but there are a ton of other beings out there. Let's see classic Wonder Woman villains like Circe, Cheetah, and even Giganta! Doctor Poison would be fun to bring back too. And of course, Diana’s got to get her invisible plane!

Whatever the sequel brings, I can’t wait to see it!

[davidmann95]

Could you expand on what you liked about Irredeemable? It's been years since I read it, but I recall finding it somewhat off-putting, and never attempted to finish it.

Off-putting is absolutely the correct way of describing it. While it never goes far into direct explicitness or gore as I recall, it is a crushingly dark book from start to just about finish; a psychologically vile, relentlessly cruel 37 issues in service of maybe the most comprehensive savaging of Superman as a concept ever put to paper.

It’s the book that made him my favorite character. It may be the book that’s the reason I write.

Now look: the first issue came out when I was a little shy of 14. Great a comic as I will maintain it sincerely is (though it does go a little slack in the last year or so, and the spinoff Incorruptible is pretty much entirely a write-off), I am unquestionably looking at it through rose-tinted lenses. I don’t even know why I got it; I was just collecting the Batman and I guess Green Lantern books at that point, and while Mark Waid was surely on my radar, Boom! comics most certainly were not. Maybe I saw the Grant Morrison quote on the cover, or maybe I just thought “oh sweet, Waid writing an evil Superman”. But while I don’t blame anyone in the slightest for not liking it - not in a “I can see how they just wouldn’t get it, man” kind of way, the tone and content here are going to completely justifiably rub some people entirely the wrong way - I will absolutely stick up for it as a great piece of superhero comics, and a fascinating examination by contrast of how Superman works, and indeed has to work, as a character.

So here’s the premise:

Or as the back of every trade puts it, how did he come to this? What became of the hope and promise once inside him? What happens to the world when its savior betrays it? What makes a hero irredeemable? The answer to the third question at least is that the world is shit out of luck: millions are dead before the first page of the series, and the rest of the superheroes can’t do much to help, because they fire energy blasts or talk to machines or have wings, while he can shatter diamond in his bare grip, liquefy titanium with a glance and hear every whisper on Earth that might dare to defy him. Most of the book is from the perspective of those heroes, on the run and desperate to find a way to survive and triumph, as their own dirty little secrets and failings start to come out under the pressure. In base concept, it’s a pretty standard Superman deconstruction.

But it’s a Superman deconstruction by the world’s biggest Superman fan. And that makes all the difference.

Whatever your opinion on Mark Waid, it’s pretty indisputable that that guy has spent a lot of time thinking about how Superman works; what makes him tick, what makes people respond to him, how his world has to be for him to function. I may not agree with him 100% on all of it, but he’s damn well put the hours in to go with his passion, and when you understand the story engine on that level, you’re going to know as anybody how to take it apart; what vital piece is most necessary to keep it running, and what’s going to happen if you take it away. For Irredeemable, the cog in the machine is idea that, even with all the good intentions in the world, a person may not necessarily be emotionally equipped for the job of being a superman. And that’s a very valid concern: after all Waid noted in an interview, in the classic Superman stories, his biggest fear come to life often wasn’t that he’d fail in his mission, or lose his adopted home, but that no one would love him anymore.

With Plutonian, the reason it works, aside from Waid’s enduring skills as a storyteller, is that there’s no cop-out. He wasn’t a hidden invader, he never planned to conquer the world, he didn’t privately despise humanity all along, he isn’t detached from mankind in the sense of being an inscrutable alien whose motives and emotions are beyond us, he isn’t doing this because he just wants to make the world a better place. While I don’t want to give up any of the reveals, it’s probably fair to say he grew up to be about the best person he could reasonably be expected to given his circumstances; a guy who feels he should do the right thing, a guy who wants to be himself and be loved in spite of his issues and insecurities. Not a saint, but hardly a monster. But the problem is, he’s not a probably-okay-enough-given-the-circumstances slightly neurotic guy who’s just holding a 9 to 5 job and seeing a therapist, he has to be Superman. And when that normal, well-meaning guy has to live with the hard realities of never being able to touch someone too hard or they’ll shatter, of having skin like diamond, of never getting to believe a little white lie because he can hear their heartbeat spike or avoid knowing what people really think about him because he can hear their private whispers, of never being able to stop because he can hear every cry for help and the world expects him to answer? And when he can’t even bring himself to just stop, because being a hero is the closest he’s ever come to being loved for who he is? It all comes crashing down, wrapped up in a set of high-concept superhero horror adventures by one of the best writers out there. It’s not a world built on ‘realism’ in the sense of abiding by the laws of physics or the political fallout of superheroes, but it’s grounded in an emotional reality of what it would take out of someone to have that job that makes it all painfully, inevitably believable that even most well-meaning individuals wouldn’t be able to handle it. And that got me thinking about Superman.

Superman had been my favorite character as a little kid. Between the 90s animated series, the Fleischer shorts my dad had on tape, the Superman Adventures comics and Byrne’s Man of Steel (even if I’d later change my tune on the latter), picture books (props to anyone else who remembers The True Story of Superman, Superman: Slippery When Bad, or I Hate Superman!), and all the lunchboxes and birthday paper plates and posters and whatnot that tend to accumulate around little kids, he was #1. Even when I started to get way more into Batman and Spider-Man, he was always holding up third; I never thought of him as boring, but I definitely started to think of him as not all that deep, even if he could hold down great stories like All-Star and Birthright.

But this book was the first of its kind to make me think “Wow, being Superman would be the hardest job in the entire world. Even given the obvious differences, why doesn’t he turn out something like this? How could anyone not turn out like this, under that kind of pressure, with that kind of basic physical and mental distance from humanity?” And as it turns out, questions like those make Superman really, really interesting. The implications of someone living with that kind of power and becoming not just a truly good man, but an outstandingly, impossibly good man go as deep as it gets. And suddenly I’m looking back at the old stories in a new light and with a new appreciation, and suddenly I’m reading a lot more about him and thinking a lot more about him and what works and what doesn’t, and suddenly, oh, dang, he’s my favorite character now. More than that even, I start thinking more about characters in general, and what works and what doesn’t, and what works and what doesn’t with comics in general, and I start getting Opinions, and oh I write a lot now, and oh shit I have a Tumblr and I want to break into comics.

So that’s why I liked Irredeemable.

[its-just-like-the-movies]

A Cure For Wellness (2017) B-/C+

At eight films into the year, who’s to say if Gore Verbiski’s A Cure For Wellness will still be the strangest film I’ve seen from 2017? Get Out, Raw, and American Fable have rolled on by, with Personal Shopper waiting right around the immediate corner, in all of their own distinct flavors of horrifying, strange, and discomfiting, and that’s nothing to say of films like The Beguiled off in the distance. But with a budget at least nine times higher than Shopper’s and eight times higher than Get Out’s (Fable and The Beguiled don’t have a reported budget, as far as I can tell), Wellness’s weirdness has been its primary selling point, both within itself and as a child of the studio system with tens of millions and a name-brand director of popular money-makers behind it. Its reputation for being absolutely batshit has superseded most conversation about it, even acknowledging lapses in plot, theme, length, and characterization. And Wellness lapses in all of these areas, regularly. The obviousness of where it will go is so heavily thudded in its first half that it keeps working against itself in moments that should be wonderfully odd. But once everything officially goes to shit for our hero, and the film finally stops pretending to hide what it’s doing and starts luxuriating in its own insanity, all that foreshadowing is recuperated in the service of executing these story beats in even stranger ways than I could have possibly expected.

Let’s start from the beginning, or maybe the prologue, where an initially nameless CEO dies of a heart attack working late in his company’s office space. The dead man’s body bathed in the light of - and dwarfed by - a seemingly infinite number of desktop computers is both the first in a multitude of striking imagery and a red herring, implying the film will have a long-reaching thesis about how American business-people are literally working themselves to death. From there we see the ascension of corporate cog Lockhart, only to be sent to off a mysterious resort in Sweden by the partners of his corporation, blackmailing him to retrieve their missing partner so that they can bring him home and lock him up as a patsy for their own shady dealings. The casting of Dane DeHaan, already so gaunt, is enough to reinforce the idea of death by overworking as Lockhart heads off on his assignment, seemingly peeved at the tremendous effort he’s undertaking simply to go and pick up this rogue suit. Not until he lands in the limousine taking him to that gothic wellness center do we see or hear anything of real value to the plot, establishing not just the truly bizarre story of how the hospital came to be but the contentious relationship between the hospital and the village leading up to it, rooted in said bizarre goings-on. This only really matters for a single detour into town, though, as Lockhart spends the rest of the film trapped in the wellness center as a patient and a test subject.

I do hope that calling him a test subject isn’t considered a spoiler, but it’s hard to call that overarching narrative all that shocking. From the moment we arrive the wellness center has a sterile, menacing aura that’s only enhanced once we get inside the institution and meet director Dr. Volmer and his ward Hannah, played respectively by a slimy Jason Isaacs and young Mia Goth, looking like Shelley DuVall as a Tim Burton ingenue. Like a lot in Wellness, the exact nature of their relationship is one you’ll likely realize long before you’re told about it; the first eighty minutes of the film are torn between trying to maintain some impression the hospice is normal enough and DeHaan is just imaging things or either going full bore up its own ass. And since the entire plot is built on how goddamn bizarre everything actually is, there’s not much going on for the first half outside of the few moments Verbinski goes “fuck it” and lets everything happen all at once. I spent those eighty minutes longing for the sheer, sporadic insanity of moments like the deer limping its shattered body off the road and away from the car wreck, the missing CEO slinking into a pool and spending too much time getting his head wet, Lockhart’s first treatment in the tank that may or may not have been infested with dozens of eels. A trip into town wherein Lockhart takes Hannah with him as he tries to establish contact with his employers is perhaps the first scene that manages to genuinely build its own kind of tension as we watch Hannah float around the bar, orbited by intrigued and skeevy punks, unaware of the dangers these kids are to her as she wanders into the bathroom and steals an abandoned tube of lipstick before dancing to the jukebox with the other kids. Meanwhile, Lockhart meets a farmer who becomes the thirty-eighth person to dish out something about the legend of the mad baron who opened the institution before comparing Lockhart to an injured cow the farmer has to slaughter.

From here we have about two more labyrinthine explorations, each more unraveled than the last one, before Lockhart confronts Dr. Volmer at a dinner table sequence that finally lays bare what he’s doing to the patients bare- involving even more eels and the suspiciously ineffective water that isn’t stopping teeth from popping out due to dehydration. And once we learn this, A Cure for Wellness at last stops trying to resist its strangest impulses and doesn’t just jump full bore up its own ass, but starts actually driving forward in the narrative after spending so much time trying to obfuscate its mysteries. Scenes start landing punches, stakes really matter, and the reveals land with such potency that it doesn’t even matter you already figured out this mad tale of incest and genetic experimentation over an hour ago. The real surprises in the institution are not the horrific farming of its patients, but the sheer gusto and fright with which these moments are finally visualized instead of whispered at us by a doomed woman cutting up newspaper scraps (Celia Imre, not given enough screen time to contribute her own brand of spookiness).

But what’s most striking is how assured and confidently the film reveals its layers of madness and human experimentation once it gets there. Never have I seen a man rip off what’s left of his face with such vigor, or the burning of a ballroom be shot with the same sweeping gorgeousness, if not more, as it had been when it was a party celebrating a truly awful success. Its set pieces had always been effective and well-shot, but the vigor in those moments has spread to the rest of the film, now that it’s given itself over to its own strangeness. The ending is, if anything, bigger than I had expected in its rampaging through the institution and its characters as Dr. Volmer sets his final plans in motion, and as Lockhart raced to find him I genuinely wondered how on earth he could pull this off. Wellness’ weirdness is not just potent but utterly grandiose, going full-scale melodrama in its last half hour in order to fulfill a story with fewer layers to it than Raw or Get Out, in realizing a plot it was too happy to telegraph from its earliest moments, and I’ll be damned if the sheer spectacle didn’t bowl me over better than any “event” blockbuster I’ve grumbled my way to a ticket for with my boyfriend.

Looking it up, I can’t say I’m shocked about the critical mixed reception, perhaps even the poor returns financially, but I wish things had gone a little better for this odd little fucker. If you’re hoping for more out of a film than strangeness, perhaps check out the talents of Eve Stewart, shuttled off from the greater horror of Tom Hooper’s sets, striking a fine balance in her realization of the institution that can flip from perfectly normal, uncomfortably sterile, and truly haunted, and that’s before we even get to the underground lair or some crazy aboveground shit. Bojan Bazelli’s cinematography, operating within the spa’s blues, the cast’s whites, and whatever flourished of color are called upon amongst all this pale, does similarly skilled work realizing set pieces like Hannah wading through a pool or the ballroom escapades horrific to watch and visually stunning. Bazelli and the makeup department must get credit for accenting DeHaan’s sickliest features, and making Goth look so much like she’d never touched sunlight, like every Victorian heroine meant to symbolize The Hopes And Dreams Of The Oppressed or something like that. I can’t say you’ve really missed much if you missed this film while it was in its theatrical run, but I know seeing that crazy shit on the big screen was enough of an amplifier to keep it in my head for a while. Then again, maybe it’ll feel even more at home on the Syfy channel when it isn’t showing one of its delicious, homemade fish-beast movies. If it’s ever there, I encourage you to give it a shot, even if you hop in an hour late. You probably haven’t missed the good stuff, you can easily catch up, and it’s better than you’d give it credit for just by looking at it. 

[aion-rsa]

Stargirl Season Finale Ending Explained and Unanswered Questions

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This article contains Stargirl spoilers.

Stargirl has been one of the few good things about 2020. Smart, impressively crafted, and full of heart, the newest addition to The CW superhero roster has been bringing us some much needed joy. Sadly, the season has ended, but it finished on a high note with an action-packed and emotional episode that tied up some loose ends, had a few shocking surprises, and opened up a lot of potential for the already announced second season that will air exclusively on The CW. Check out our review for a full rundown of the awesome episode, but we’re here to breakdown that wild ending, all those stingers, and answer some of the most burning questions that “Stars & S.T.R.I.P.E. Part Two” left us with. 

The Justice Society of America Rises Again

It’s hard to end a debut season that’s been as stunning as Stargirl but somehow the creative team did it. There were a whole bunch of amazing moments in this episode but let’s focus on that third act that really began when the kids got into the tunnels underneath Blue Valley High. This finale really did a great job of giving everyone their own full arc which satisfied as well as left them with something to achieve or look forward to next season.

Let’s start with the outlier, Cindy Burman. The daughter of Dragon King got her revenge as she killed her father, unintentionally helping Shining Knight before heading off to battle Courtney.

Cindy’s attack led to Yolanda having a reckoning of her own as she had to head further into the tunnels and saw an unexpected face. Henry King Jr.’s arc was one of my favorite things about this season so I was blown away when one of the Dragon King’s minions was revealed to be the teen who we thought died earlier this season. After the heartbreaking moment where it was revealed that it was actually Brainwave attempting to use Yolanda’s love for Henry as a way to get her to betray her friends, the young girl made a choice driven by fear, anger, and hate, slitting his throat and watching him bleed out in the same place he killed his son. It’s a stark moment and one that reflects a change in Yolanda, and contrasts an equally important moment for Rick. 

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Stargirl: Who are the Justice Society Members?

By Mike Cecchini

Before we get to that, though, Courtney and Yolanda reunite and the former blows up the satellite that was projecting Brainwave’s signal. With the world seemingly saved, there are two immediate problems: Solomon Grundy and Barbara who’s been kidnapped by Icicle. Rick wants to take care of the first issue, and after saving Pat from the monster and sending him to save Barb, Rick begins the vengeful beatdown he’s been dreaming of for so long.

But when it comes to striking the final blow on the creature that killed his parents, he can’t actually do it. Earlier in the episode we saw Yolanda begging him not to kill only to commit a murder herself, and yet here Rick decides to show mercy to Grundy, shocking himself and finding a different kind of closure. 

With Barb at the mercy of Jordan, Pat and Courtney turn up just in time. And after a dramatic rooftop showdown, Jordan is defeated by an unexpected assist from Mike saving the day. With the Dragon defeated, Shining Knight heads off to find the Seven Soldiers of Victory and the rest of the new JSA settles back into their daily lives before we hit a couple of killer stingers which we’ll get into later as the real ending of the show is all about Courtney realizing that Pat is the father she wanted all along.

The pair share a heartwarming scene where Court gives her sidekick and stepdad the gift that she held onto for so long for her biological father, and in a lovely moment it’s revealed to be a “World’s Greatest Dad” mug. Brec Bassinger and Luke Wilson have been at the heart of the series all along and this is a lovely, quiet moment that acknowledges that as well as cementing their relationship before they head out on a magical snow-capped flight. So with all of that said, let’s get into where this leaves the roster of heroes and rogues and what it all means. 

Is Icicle Really Dead?

This is the obvious question that we’re left with after Mike ran over the leader of the ISA while he was in the process of transforming, leading to him being shattered in the street. It seems like a pretty un-comeback-from-able death, but the fact that Jordan can manipulate water means there’s a chance that he’s just dribbled into the drains of Blue Valley, ready to either plan his revenge or head to the labs of the late Dragon King in an attempt to put himself back together.

We know that the Injustice Society is filled with villains who should be dead and Jordan did promise that he would succeed in his nefarious plan to “fix” America, so maybe he’ll be back for Stargirl season 2…

Could Mike Really Join the JSA? 

After successfully demolishing Jordan just as he was about to freeze his sister, Mike asks whether his heroic moment means that he can join the JSA. It’s a funny moment that also hints at some possibilities for the future of Pat Dugan’s son. While in the comics he never had an official superhero mantle, that could definitely change here.

But if Geoff Johns and co. continue to be inspired by the comic book series that introduced readers to Stargirl and her family–as well as giving the two-part season finale its name–then his role could be deeply connected to another shocking moment of “Stars & S.T.R.I.P.E. Part Two” and the fate of another team member. 

What About S.T.R.I.P.E.?

During his epic fight with Solomon Grundy, S.T.R.I.P.E. was decimated. The giant monster ripped off the impressive mech’s legs and beat him with his own arm. It was a brutal display of strength from Grundy and left S.T.R.I.P.E. in a state of disrepair.

Seeing as Pat built the rad machine himself and we see S.T.R.I.P.E. return at the end, we know he’ll be okay. But the big thing to note here is who will help him. Season one has done a great job of seeding Mike as a potential sidekick to Pat and Courtney, especially with his clear prowess for science and invention. In the comics Mike does go on to help his father fix and innovate S.T.R.I.P.E. so after the events of the finale it seems likely we’ll see that thread brought into the sophomore outing of the series. 

Where Did the Gambler Go?

Seeing as the Gambler is the only member of the ISA without powers, he did a pretty great job at getting out of Blue Valley and apparently surviving. Thanks to Beth’s brilliant thinking, he no longer has millions of dollars to rebuild his life which means his options are few and his taste for vengeance will be heightened.

If we look to the comics there’s a chance that Steven Sharpe could settle down as when he disappeared off the map before he had a family and then ended up killing himself after losing all his money in Vegas. Of course, that could also hint that maybe due to Beth and Chuck donating all of his money to charity we may never see the Gambler again. Perhaps his financial loss may have been too much? Or he may just be far too scared to continue without his super powered colleagues who have all perished? For now his fate is unclear.

How Will Beth Fix Chuck? 

There were plenty of heartbreaking moments this week but high up there was Beth’s grief over Chuck. The A.I. representation of the original Doctor Mid-Nite has become a friend, confidant, and sidekick for the lonely young girl, and Beth’s relationship with the goggles he inhabits has been a highlight of the season. But when Jordan destroys them with his ice powers it seems like the connection and power of Doctor Mid-Nite may be no more.

The truth is that Beth is Doctor Mid-Nite with or without the goggles, but the big question here is how she’ll come to realize that. Perhaps it will be by fixing the unique tool herself or by discovering another artifact or memory bank that Chuck left behind. Either way, we’re sure that Beth will continue her reign as the hero. 

Will Yolanda Go Rogue? 

Though she likely saved her friends and the town of Blue Valley–and potentially America–with her actions, killing Brainwave was still a moment that will haunt the hero. Despite the fact that the episode ended with Courtney and the new JSA sitting together, Yolanda was set apart, distracted and alone. There’s a good chance that whatever happens next season we may see her split with her young and hopeful cohorts, especially after Rick refused to kill Grundy and Courtney’s horrified response to Yolanda’s killing.

I don’t believe that Yolanda will go full villain but her experiences with Brainwave could encourage a more hard line vigilante stance that might not fit with the cleancut JSA. 

Who Was That in the Injustice Society’s lair?

Well, well, well. If you’ve been wondering who’s going to take over from the now defunct Injustice Society, look no further than that strange top-hatted figure who appeared in the ISA lair at the end of the finale. In the fourth episode there was a really quick reference to a rogue known as the Shade who betrayed the ISA and it looks like from this stinger that the Shade is back in Blue Valley.

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Stargirl Villains: A Guide to the Injustice Society

By Rosie Knight

So who are they? Well, in the comics the character debuted in a 1942 Flash Comics issue and was portrayed as an enigmatic man with a magical cane that could control shadows. But the version that we’re most likely seeing here is the ageless Victorian immortal who played a key role in Stargirl writer/producer James Robinson’s 1994 run on Starman.

In that series the character is less of a villain and more of a roguish anti-hero who will switch sides whenever it suits him. There’s plenty to take from the Shade’s appearance but the most interesting aspect is the definitely supernatural nature of the character and the demon-filled, era-spanning world that he inhabits. It seems like a drastic shift in tone from the nostalgic Americana of the first season and does seem to hint at a darker and more magic-filled followup.

It’s also important to note that during his time on Justice League of America Robinson wrote in a story about the Shade being possessed by a powerful spirit known as Eclipso, who also (sort of) popped up in the finale with the help of none other than Cindy Burman. 

Who or What is Eclipso? 

Ahhh, this is the kind of question I live for. Even in an age where we have a JSA team on prime time TV made up of teenage girls and a Harley Quinn series that regularly features Kite Man, Eclipso is a capital D deep cut inclusion. And there are a few exciting ways that they could go with the late stage reveal that Cindy has discovered “the Heart of Darkness” gem where the immortal supervillain is trapped. She found it in the easter-egg-filled basement of The Wizard’s home.

Now in the comics, Eclipso is a supernatural character based on the concept of wrath and more specifically the Angel of Vengeance. That immediately fits Cindy’s current mindset as we know she’s on a mission to destroy everything that Blue Valley has to offer. I mean, she killed her own father but was equally as eager to kill Courtney and stop the Justice Society. 

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TV

Stargirl: The History of Shining Knight

By Rosie Knight

Eclipso has manifested in many hosts in the DC Universe, but the one that seems most relevant here is Jean Loring, nee Palmer, who’s probably most well known as the murderer in Identity Crisis. Just like Cindy, Jean discovered the gem which housed Eclipso and was later possessed by him and given his powers. We know that Cindy is desperate to become a super villain and will stop at nothing to do it, meaning that she would likely try and harness the evil spirit to achieve her goals. 

The other interesting thing to note here is this could also be a backdoor way of Stargirl introducing another lesser-known DC hero to the  young cast. In certain parts of Eclipso canon it was the Princess of House Amethyst who imprisoned him in the gem. Now DC has been doing a push on bringing the teenage fantasy heroine to the screen, so if Eclipso gets loose in Blue Valley maybe Amethyst will have to leave Gemworld and head to our world to help out? 

We wrote in much more detail about the history of Eclipso and what he could mean for Stargirl Season 2 right here.

Starman’s Alive???

This was easily the episode’s biggest reveal and leads to some of the most complex theorizing as well as some deep cut but necessary explanations. So in the world of Stargirl, Sylvester Pemberton is alive and well, which comes as a huge shock because we thought that we saw him die a decade ago at the hands of the Injustice Society. There’s always the chance that this is some kind of Clayface/shape-shifter scenario, but if not it leads to some really interesting questions and will bring to light something that a lot of comic book fans have been wondering. 

See, in the comics Sylvester Pemberton was the Star-Spangled Kid but he was never actually Starman. The mantle he took on after retiring as the young hero was Skyman. The real comic book Starman was Ted Knight who was followed by his brother David and later by Ted’s son Jack. There have been other heroes who have used the name Starman but none have been Sylvester Pemberton.

It’ll be interesting to see just how the show combines these two disparate narratives now that Pemberton is potentially back in the picture. In the comics he does team up with Stargirl at one point, which could be echoed here. But it feels like this might be more of an arc for Pat who has spent his life dealing with the ramifications of a death that might not have actually happened at all. So what is Starman hiding? Where has he been? And most importantly of all for Courtney, is he going to want his Cosmic Staff back? 

We’ll have to wait to find out the answers to all of these questions and the fates of our lovely teenage heroes, but whatever comes next we cannot wait for the return of our favorite new superhero show!

You can watch all of Stargirl season one on DC Universe or The CW app right now! 

The post Stargirl Season Finale Ending Explained and Unanswered Questions appeared first on Den of Geek.

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A New Martyr Puts a Face on China’s Deepening Coronavirus Crisis

WUHAN, China — More than 600 people have died. Tens of thousands are infected. Millions are living under lockdown, and the government has sought to silence complaints.

But what provoked an online revolt in China on Friday, the fiercest assault on the censors in almost a decade, began with the death of one man: the doctor who tried to raise an alarm about the coronavirus.

The deluge of mourning and anger at the death of the doctor, Li Wenliang — from the same virus he was reprimanded for mentioning — at times overwhelmed China’s sophisticated censorship and propaganda systems. Many on social media called the doctor a martyr and a hero, and government officials, celebrities and business leaders risked rebuke by the Communist Party to join ordinary citizens in expressing frustration and grief.

“Li Wenliang’s death has become an emotional flash point,” said Wang Yu, a Wuhan man in his 20s, showing the torrent of comments on his phone about Dr. Li in his social media feeds.

“He’s a tragic figure in this epidemic, and his death has taken this tragedy to a new extreme,” Mr. Wang said. Then he hesitated and took back his words. “I worry that his death won’t be the extreme of this tragedy.”

The doctor’s death posed a new test for China’s leader, Xi Jinping, who was already facing deep political problems — over a newly signed trade deal with Washington, Taiwan’s recent election and Hong Kong’s protest movement — before the virus spilled out of Wuhan. In recent weeks, Mr. Xi’s talks with foreign leaders have shifted to a defense of China’s response to the epidemic, which has sickened more than 31,000 people and brought the country to a near standstill.

Now, the government is also caught in a tug of war over Dr. Li’s legacy that could challenge Mr. Xi’s powerful censorship apparatus.

Image

Li Wenliang at Wuhan Central Hospital last month.Credit…Li Wenliang, via Agence France-Presse — Getty Images

When Dr. Li, 34, warned of the virus in an online chat room more than five weeks ago, the police made him an example of what befalls those who do not comply with official demands for secrecy. He was summoned by the authorities and forced to sign a statement denouncing his warning as an unfounded and illegal rumor.

After his death on Friday, many Chinese said he was a haunting reminder of the early steps taken to cover up the outbreak.

Updated Feb. 5, 2020

Where has the virus spread? You can track its movement with this map.

How is the United States being affected? There have been at least a dozen cases. American citizens and permanent residents who fly to the United States from China are now subject to a two-week quarantine.

What if I’m traveling? Several countries, including the United States, have discouraged travel to China, and several airlines have canceled flights. Many travelers have been left in limbo while looking to change or cancel bookings.

How do I keep myself and others safe? Washing your hands is the most important thing you can do.

Stuck inside by widespread lockdowns, many people are glued to the internet, with abundant time to dwell on the doctor’s death. Chinese social media, often fractious and fickle, was as unanimous as it has ever been in its grief for Dr. Li, with eulogies flowing from all corners of the country. For a few hours, a trending hashtag called for freedom of speech.

Unable to fully expunge the discussions, Beijing has turned to state media to transform Dr. Li into a loyal soldier aligned with the government’s cause. The tussle over the doctor’s memory and the political implications are reminiscent of what happened after the SARS outbreak, some said in posts that were quickly deleted.

Jiang Yanyong, the retired military doctor who first called attention to widespread undercounting of SARS cases, has been erased from the official record of that time. By contrast, Zhong Nanshan, the doctor who first identified SARS, has been lionized as a faithful servant. When Beijing needed someone to publicly deliver bad news about the coronavirus, it turned to Dr. Zhong.

Dr. Li’s death also showed how online anger can occasionally slosh over the tall censorship walls built to stifle it. China’s censors have not been this overwhelmed since 2011, when anger and embarrassment over a high-speed rail accident in Wenzhou became impossible to scrub. The Wenzhou crash helped spur new policies to more tightly police the internet.

While many of the lives lost in the coronavirus outbreak have been obscured by the numbers, Dr. Li’s death has provided a face and story for the victims of the epidemic and the medical workers struggling to contain it.

In Wuhan, a steel-gray sky hung over the melancholy day of Mr. Li’s death. An impromptu memorial of flowers, a black-and-white photograph and singed cigarettes — a stand-in for joss sticks — formed at the entrance of the hospital where he had died. The mourners during the daytime were few, perhaps because many people in Wuhan remain afraid to stray too far from home.

“Thank you for your courage,” said the message on one bouquet of chrysanthemums, the Chinese flower of mourning. “Heroes never die, thank you,” said another.

In an interview with Pear Video, Dr. Li’s mother spoke of her grief through sobs. For several weeks, he was stable and able to get out of bed and eat, she said, adding that only in the last two days did his condition deteriorate. She said she had not been able to see him before he died and described the shattered family he left behind.

“In June, his second child will be born,” she said, adding that she and Dr. Li’s father had both contracted the illness, but recovered. “What happens to his family? Is it not broken?”

“Me and his father were cured, but pitifully our child, our child didn’t make it,” she added. “He was 34 years old. He had great potential. He was a very talented kid. He isn’t like other people who lie — he was loyal to his duties.”

Candle emojis, quotes and images of Dr. Li dominated social media feeds. Business leaders and celebrities, accustomed to muzzling political hot takes for fear of invoking the government’s wrath, shared their thoughts and condolences. One popular illustration turned the outlines of Dr. Li’s surgical mask into barbed wire.

A part of Dr. Li’s appeal has been his Everyman sensibilities. He loved fried chicken thighs, was annoyed when cherry prices rose too high and often got stuck working extra shifts at the hospital. Like many others in China, he wrote all about it online.

On the microblogging site Weibo, users surfaced his old musings.

“A life not examined is not worth living,” he wrote in a characteristically quirky post, after musing about the origin of egg pancakes. “I hope everyone can fulfill their values.”

The country’s state media released its own remembrances, in some cases working to subtly co-opt Dr. Li’s story.

China’s National Health Commission recalled him not as a Cassandra warning about the virus, but instead as a doctor on the front lines of the response. Although Dr. Li had expressed a desire to help his colleagues, he was an ophthalmologist who was sickened by a patient he was treating for glaucoma.

“Since the start of the epidemic, many medical workers disregarded their own safety, gave up their small family, and braved the difficulties for the bigger family, and fought bravely at the foremost front line of the epidemic,” the health commission said in a statement. Those workers, it added, “made great contributions to protect people’s life and health, and we pay the utmost respect.”

China’s state-run television broadcaster sought to link Dr. Li directly to Mr. Xi’s own words about the battle against the epidemic. “Beating this devil virus is the best consolation to the deceased,” the broadcaster said in a commentary, echoing Mr. Xi’s characterization of the illness.

On Friday, bowing to popular pressure, Communist Party officials said they would send a team from the powerful anticorruption committee to investigate the circumstances surrounding Dr. Li’s death.

The State Supervisory Committee has “decided to send an investigation team to Wuhan, Hubei Province, to conduct a comprehensive investigation on related issues reported by the masses about Dr. Li Wenliang,” it said on Friday, releasing a one-line statement on its website.

It is rare for the Communist Party to react so swiftly to public outrage. Several top officials and state media outlets had joined in the chorus mourning Dr. Li’s death. In statements online, the National Health Commission and the Wuhan government said they had expressed their condolences.

The New York Times spoke to Dr. Li a week before his death. “If the officials had disclosed information about the epidemic earlier,” he told The Times, “I think it would have been a lot better. There should be more openness and transparency.”

“I felt I was wronged, but I had to accept it,” he said of his arrest. “Obviously I had been acting out of good will.”

“I have felt very sad seeing so many people losing their loved ones.”

Reporting was contributed by Daniel Victor, Eimi Yamamitsu, Steven Lee Myers, Sui Lee Wee, Elaine Yu, Liz Alderman, Denise Grady, Scott Reyburn and Vivian Wang. Research was contributed by Lin Qiqing, Albee Zhang, Elsie Chen and Cao Li.

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