#and then to give the ending to another character

[gentleoverdrive]

Glass Onion was bad, though. Like yeah, I get it that "lol, let's all point and laugh at the Steve Jobs & Elon Musk's goofy mishmash that is Miles Bron plus the Joe Rogan and Shitty Twitch Streamer™️ #6669's even more ham-fisted patch-job that is Duke Cody, lmao even." and yes, I agree that a bunch of the performances in both released films are fine, but Glass Onion was dull as dirt for long stretches of time. ---- Which is, unfortunately, what happens when you: a) Make Elon Musk a central performer to your thing or write a send-up of Musk as one of your central characters. He's enough of a real-life cartoon as he is. b) It has that whole stink of being steeped in the enshittification of movies due to the many pitfalls that come with the models that streaming services put in place. c) It also doesn't help that a lot of the dialogue for both films has the trappings of the Chuck Wendig, Ernest Cline, Joss Whedon wheelhouse that overstayed its welcome a while ago. d) Probably something else I'm forgetting because I wish to keep this somewhat brief. ---- Anyway, if you want to watch/read the good kind of dumb but fun mystery schlock, please watch/read Moriarty the Patriot instead. It's got pretty boys...

(which is to be expected from either the mangaka that brought us the Psycho-Pass spin-off Inspector Akane Tsunemori or the character designer for the Sengoku Basara anime projects) ---- It's dumb as hell (and I say this in the most complimentary of ways), it has a phenomenal cast in both Japanese and English topped by Soma Saitou/Aaron Dismuke as William James Moriarty & Makoto Furukawa/Theo Devaney as Sherlock Holmes and, underneath the silliness of it all, very competent writing! ---- It also has a good balance when it comes to both episodic and serialized storytelling. Again, cannot recommend Moriarty the Patriot enough if you like your mystery shows/comics fun, you don't mind yet another spin of the Sherlockian canon and don't want to watch Dr. House which, for better or for worse, it's still probably among the better modern takes on the character in the west, just one widely mad that Francis Fukuyama ended up being wrong. ---- Anyway, let's end this dumb write-up on a positive note and give Rian Johnson some flowers: I thought Brick, Brothers Bloom and Looper were all solid films and if you're hankering for more Rian Johnson-helmed goodness, I cannot recommend those enough. Also Daniel Craig's performance as Benoit Blanc, though somewhat shaky (that accent is fucking horrible), is charming enough as is.

I also think that all the "um okay knives out & glass onion were good. Wrap it up now" posts are so funny. You're tripping if you think there's not going to be at least five Benoit Blanc films lol

[dduane]

Hi DD! I'm about mid-way through the most complex writing project I've ever done (several stories with some red thread storylines progressing in the background, so a sort of interwoven structure). I have an outline of the major plot beats, but the problem is, I've gotten about 2/3 of the way through, and this is where I've started to have trouble bringing my many threads together. The further I go, the the harder keeping it all clear and elegant becomes. Any advice for working at this stage?

It may seem counterintuitive, but once I'd found myself in a situation like this, I would immediately start working backwards.

It's difficult to describe what I mean here except semi-graphically—sort of in terms of one of those strings-pinned-to-the-wall diagrams so familiar to a lot of us from the various evidence-wall memes.

If we're imagining your present as-yet-unconnected threads as more or less progressing left to right, I would "stick pins in them" at their current furthest range and then move straight out to the far right side of the diagram.

For each thread I would then get busy establishing a detailed "end state" for the work: meaning a sense of what you want each of those through-line of plot to look like when you're done in terms of characters, situations, etc. I'd make very sure that all the major through-lines were covered, and (in passing) take a long look at how they'll stand in relationship to one another when all the action's finished.

Then I would start working back along each line toward the center of the matrix—looking to see what the next-to-last thing was that needed to happen to produce the final result on a given through-line. And then the third-to-last. ...And so forth.

I would try to work through the whole set of through-lines for each given step or stage before progressing any further backwards—unless, of course, some leap of logic occurs that makes an obvious connection between two different through-lines, or an earlier stage in the same TL that hadn't been obvious before.

(Is this making sense? God, I hope so.)

My experience with this kind of situation in the past is that it doesn't take too long before, on one or two of the lines you're constructing backwards, you'll hit something fairly major that somehow hadn't come up for consideration previously, or had simply slipped or fallen off the structural "radar" because so much other stuff had been going on around it. That event or piece of data, once perceived, will very often either immediately connect itself back to one or more of the "pinned" through-lines, or promote one of the other incomplete ones into growing connections to other adjacent lines of plot material. It's a little like watching neural tissue developing alternate pathways for itself after an injury.

...Anyway, give this approach a shot and see how it works for you. There are times when simply the act of reversing direction on the plot build will shake something loose in the business surrounding the building-it-forward part. It's worth a try to see what happens.

Hope this helps!

[torglives]

"I'm sorry I don't seem to be the person you're looking for." "No yeah I.. I'll keep looking. Thank you."

i have a lot of things to say about realms pangi tonight (as usual) but i'll try to keep it concise. on his grief, on his coping mechanisms, and on his healing.

pangi has already grieved pili. he's disguised it under layers of vengeful plans and cartoon-villain monologues, but he's already arrived at the final stage of grief, and all he needed was the confirmation that this pili isn't his. isn't theirs. he's come to terms with the fact that he's gone.

i want to say that he's healing, but that's not entirely true yet. there will be a period where pangi denies in that way of his--not by believing that New Pili is Old Pili, but by immediately trying to move forward. quite literally by erasing the physical remanents of their friendship, and getting ros to fill-in the book in his place. he's trying to cover the open wound by painting it before it can get the chance to close. that isn't healthy! it's going to fall apart one way or another, and he's going to have to approach it again, but more gently. he has to come to terms with the fact that pili can be a memory, even if another version of him is living and breathing. pangi has to accept that no matter how angry he is at how it all ended, how shitty pili was to him, he can still miss him. he can hold onto the memories he has of him and let ros in at the same time.

pangi, as a character, is unable to linger. he feels the need to jump from thing to thing, never giving himself the proper time to sit and process. when his worst fear is proven, when he is shown that he isn't wanted or needed somewhere--he shuts down the part of himself that was trying to be wanted and needed. his way of 'staying on top of it all' is just adding another layer. he buries it under something new, and tries to forget about it and barrel onto the next thing. it never works.

as he said, he'll keep looking. instead of accepting that the spot he's carved out for pili has gone empty, he immediately tries to find someone to fill it. he hasn't entirely accepted that nobody fits that shape, and that ros cannot fill that spot. he does not believe in coexistence. i don't think this means he's stuck in an endless cycle of trying to find something to latch onto, though. i think pangi has people who will help pull him out of this loop, and i think today he took the first steps to slow it all down.

by letting go of that residual anger surrounding his death, by accepting ros' friendship and letting himself be honest with her, by teaming up with aimsey, by getting closer with hannah and bad, by letting himself admit that pili is truly gone-- he's healing. slowly and messily, as a griever does. he's getting there. he'll never be how he once was, or look at a cornflower the same way, but he's taking the initiative to be happy again. a stranger will continue to walk the realm with the body of someone he gave everything to, someone he loved, and it will hurt. but he has people who love him just as much as he aches, and eventually that will dilute the hurt. i think it already has.

[callmeizukunotdeku]

Dick

yearned for the cape so much that he invented it

yearned for revenge, yes, but this man would have found an excuse to invent the cape in one way or another regardless of how his life went

he is yearning personified

Steph

didn't necessarily yearn for the cape (robin) but undeniably yearned to be a cape haver

Cass

yearned to fill the unnamable void of anguish inside of her

saw the cape and went "close enough"

doesn't yearn for the cape because it's who she is; she doesn't really have a civilian identity

people (mainly bruce and babs) try to convince her that it's okay to give up the cape, it's okay to be just Cass every once in a while

she knows this but doesn't know how to explain that they yearn for the cape because you yearn for what you don't have; she's always had the ability to fight for herself and doesn't yearn, doesn't need in the same way they do

Duke

i don't know his character well enough to say exactly what it is he yearns for but the cape feels like more of a craving

from what i do know about him, i want to say that he yearns to help people and sees the cape as a means to an end

Jason

yearned for safety

he always had to watch his back to stay safe and wasn't safe even when he was supposed to be

"Had the misfortune of getting "helped" by Bruce Wayne." I absolutely agree with this. Before his death, he didn't yearn for the cape, he didn't even crave the cape. He wanted to be safe and he figured that, if he was doing something for Bruce, especially something as big as being his Robin, it would give Bruce a reason to keep him around. Secure his "position" as Bruce's son. Being replaced hit him so hard because did Robin even mean half as much to Bruce as it did to them? was he always replaceable? he felt safe in the manor, secure, was he tricking himself? was he ever safe?

Tim

had a parasocial relationship with the bats and, because of a lack of proper authority, guidance and connection in his life, let it run out of control

yearned for the good old days when he could watch batman and robin be happy and could pretend that bruce was jack and he was jason and they were happy

becoming robin broke something in him, because batman wasn't jack, but it was still bruce who cared for dick and cared for jason but couldn't find it in himself to care for tim

like duke, saw the cape as a means to an end; he could fix batman then just get back to watching from a distance after bruce chose a robin he actually wanted again

still yearns for the good old days because he has photos from when all he could see of the bats was their success, their smiles

has not figured out that there weren't good old days, just times when he didn't have the full picture

"The children yearn for the cape"

The Batkids, ranked by how much they actually yearned for the cape.

Dick Grayson. Literally invented the cape. He manifested it out of pure unbridled pre-teen rage.

Stephanie Brown. Technically already had a cape before she ever even met Bruce Wayne.

Cassandra Cain. Considering how she grew up, it's kinda hard to say. As an adult, very committed to the cape.

Duke Thomas. Manipulated by Alfred, along with a bunch of other vulnerable teenagers, into yearning for the cape.

Jason Todd. Yearned for a roof over his head and food in his mouth. Had the misfortune of getting "helped" by Bruce Wayne.

Tim Drake. Actively did not want the cape. Only took it up to keep Bruce Wayne from murdering people.

I haven't read any comics with Damian yet so I can't say about him.

[danisbrainrot]

ugh, there is just something delicious about the parallel between mistynat and jackieshauna in the first two episodes of the new season. i barely know where to start.

obviously, misty and shauna lose their best friends. they're both to blame/blame themselves for nat and jackie's death, because essentially, they killed them.

misty actively kills nat whereas shauna passively kills jackie, which shows the difference in their relationship. but at the end of the day, once they realised what they'd done, they have a similar reaction. screaming 'no' in disbelief and holding them in their arms. they refuse to believe not only their best friend is dead, but they've killed them.

OH! and they're both too late to save them. shauna is too late to save jackie from the cold and misty cries, 'it's too late' when tai asks her how to save nat. i can't believe i almost forgot this!

another obvious parallel, misty wearing nat's jacket!! we see that shauna can't seem to let go of jackie's butterfly top, treating it as a security blanket, and now in the adult timeline misty clings onto nat's jacket. both items of clothing are physical reminders of their 'best friend' that they lost.

finally, what parallel stuck out to me the most: misty and shauna became the versions of their friends they THOUGHT they were. shauna marries jeff and becomes a suburban housewife, misty dresses like nat and goes to a bar to do whisky shots and pick bar fights.

however, nat was more than an alcoholic, despite being reduced by misty to a caricature. she feels purposeless after the woods, she's broken and from what we've seen, isolated. nat barely leaves her hotel room except to do risky shit like chase the blackmailer or help shauna dispose of adam's body. the most we see her reach out is to kevyn, who she immediately pushes away when he tries to break down her walls. she's built up this alcholic, uncaring, asshole wall to keep people out.

so when misty plays her as some rough, badass femme fatale, she's demonstrating to the audience that she hardly knows nat. she only knew nat's exterior, and nothing like her true character. to put it frankly, misty never truly knew nat because nat didn't want her to. so when misty 'becomes nat' she's becoming the shallow understanding she has of her best friend.

this ties into shauna never truly understanding jackie's true character. not because jackie hid it from her, but shauna's resentment of her did. every action we see from jackie is protective of shauna—giving her valium to calm down, saving her from the plane explosion, and even 'allowing shauna to eat her.'

however, shauna can't see how much jackie loves her because of her own bitter resentment. even as a ghost jackie is seemingly punishing shauna for letting her die, but most importantly, for hating her while she was alive.

'i don't know who you are anymore shauna.'

'maybe you never did.'

if anything, it should be completely switched around. shauna doesn't know anything about jackie. shauna is projecting this mean girl persona on jackie that just isn't there.

misty is projecting this badass, gets in bar fights and tries to light men's dicks on fire persona onto nat. sure, nat has done those things, but that isn't who she is at the core. just like how being a mean girl isn't who jackie is at her core (i've gone more into depth before, here).

i love mistynat as much as the next yellowjacket fan, but we have to be honest, for the most part, nat was always cagey with misty. something happened out in the woods that made her distrust misty, and i think they're going to explore that this season. especially with the whole, misty telling shauna that nat knows where coach ben is.

both misty and shauna make up these fantasies about their best friends to connect with them after their deaths. it's just so fascinating the writer's have decided to parallel these characters, because when i think about it, misty has always been written as this desperate character, craving attention and love. . . but so has shauna.

they've been narrative foils this entire time and it took natalie dying for me to realise it.

[wakasaswifee]

GG, NO REᶻ 𝘇 𐰁

(good game, no rematch)

Synopsis: Sershiro Nagi, one of japan's top streamers; who dominates the gaming world with his effortless skills. When an underground content creator challenges him to a 1v1 after he dismisses casual players, their fans go wild. The match ends with an unexpected twist, and what starts as an online rivalry turns into a chaotic, relationship.

pairing: Seishiro nagi x F!reader | Smau & writing

content warning: I try to be funny (more cringe than funny), dry humour, crack, angst (if you squint), ooc character, nagi is sassy?, spicy but not smut (eventually), streamers - most of them, swearing, rude jokes

ʚɞ Challenge accepted - prologue

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!! Ughh, I almost had himmm” 

“You're such a loser, dude” Ryusei’s voice cut through your frustration, making your blood boil even more. You were streaming Fall Guys, and the couple hundred viewers who regularly tuned in flooded the chat with spam and emotes.

On top of that, you were on a Discord call with Shidou, who was absolutely loving the opportunity to shit-talk your gameplay while laughing like a complete moron. He wasn’t even playing—said he could, but conveniently wasn’t home.

So instead of playing roblox, you decided to stream fall guys 

Something in chat caught your eye. 

“Check the server messages? Did something happen?” You asked yourself. Opening your servers main chat to see the link of another twitch streamer.

You clicked on it, sharing the screen so chat could see. It was a clip of a streamer saying “casual streamers have no chance against pro gamers” you don’t know why but it pissed you off. And to top it off, he looked so chill while putting down others. You rolled your eyes, giving a tight lipped smile to chat. good looking people can get away with saying anything 

“Well, cocky people get what they deserve” 

"And maybe he shouldn't have his head so far up his ass. If he went up against me, I'd guarantee he would lose"

“Eat him up, queen” you heard shidou over the call. Making a ‘what the fuck’ face.

“leave.”

series masterlist: ʚɞ

Next: 02

A/N: lot of writing but yeah! Also I'm sorry if its messy and the formatting is shit. I did this on my phone in the middle of the night in another country 😔🙏🏻. I dont even have my laptop on me, I'm not used to using my phone to post SMAU's. I'll do better for the next, I swear. There were so many editing and grammatical errors. I'm gonna kms, I hate posting using my phone

TAGLIST: @syarc0re @sunnydays25 (open)

Credits: @cinnamqnx

[dailydoseoffanfics]

⭐️ SELF AWARE FORSAKEN AU (GENERAL HEADCANONS)

⭐️ a/n: my first x reader post that i actually wrote (i think) heh. /silly ANYWAYS this idea has been my brainrot for a while and TBH i'm not sure if I'm able to execute it well but. fuck it we ball 🔥🔥🔥🔥 ALSO I'M ONLY GOING TO DO NOOB, TWO TIME AND CHANCE FOR NOW CUZ THEY'RE THE ONLY PEOPLE THAT I HAVE SOME IDEAS FOR.... (DON'T WORRY I'LL MAKE ANOTHER POST ABOUT THE OTHER SURVIVORS AS WELL)

⭐️ warnings: possibly ooc but I DON'T GIVE A SHITE 🗣️🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥🔥 (kinda), also really fucking long

⭐️ reader is gender-neutral so they/them pronouns are used!

You're a really normal fan about a Roblox game called "Forsaken".......yeah.....totally a really normal and sane fan about that game. But lately, you've noticed something weird about the characters you're playing.

The characters have varying reactions into finding out they're being controlled by something....or someone (you).

⭐️

NOOB (Noob uses they/them pronouns btw if ya'll forgot!)

Bro has NO clue what's happening right.

It was that one specific round, the usual running away from killers, hiding behind walls hoping that they don't get spotted. It just another round. Or so they though.

During that round, while they're in hiding, they felt some type of.....warmth.

They ignored it at first. Could be just instincts.

But this warmth was....growing? In a way that this warmth was growing stronger, and they feel this type of.....force.

It was controlling their movements, and Noob could hear a faint voice.

Noob is looking around, their mind running places. What is going on? Who is controlling them? And WHY are they doing this???

Noob felt their fear increase. It was already bad that they're getting chased by killers every single round, but when they become aware of this type of, weird force, that's somehow controlling every single of their movement, and hearing a voice that's so far yet so close? Not too mention that Noob didn't even know who you are, no face, no name, nothing. Noob just thought that they lost their mind for good.

What's even worse is that they don't if they can actually trust you. For all they know, you might be some kind of sadistic person that controls people for fun and takes pleasure in seeing people suffer.

That's why Noob tried to stop whatever force this is. Keyword: tried.

No matter how much effort they put into escaping this grasp, like trying to go into an opposite direction or just standing still, it wasn't enough.

Eventually, when the round ends, Noob is just in their designated room, laying on their bed, wondering what in almighty christ just happened.

Their mind kept replaying that incident. Genuinely WHO WAS THAT PERSON? AND WHY WAS THIS PERSON CONTROLLING THEM? WHAT DID THEY EVEN DO TO BE SUBJECTED TO...WHATEVER THIS IS???

Their paranoia is multiplied by 10x. Every new round, their face is noticeably more fearful, they're more jumpy, and they're looking around EVERYWHERE. They look like they're on a brink of a mental breakdown. Usually the other survivors got used to Noob's shakiness, but when the survivors noticed Noob getting jumpscared by literally any sounds, that's where the suspicion comes in (Two Time was the first to notice).

Even if Noob feels dread whenever they feel that same warmth, somewhere deep inside of their mind, it feels..... oddly calming?

Overall, Noob is NOT having a good time. Noob will flat out NOT trust you in the beginning, and probably thinks you're up to no good, so they'll try to avoid you as much as possible (even if they fail everytime). You're gonna have to be REALLY patient with them, Noob being trapped in this time-looping game is already bad enough for them. (Think about this video LMAO)

⭐️

TWO TIME (also uses they/them!)

Two Time is......perplexed. They don't know how to feel about this.

Before Two Time gained awareness, Two Time noticed Noob being more jittery than usual. So they confronted Noob about their behavior lately, and (tried to) comforted Noob. (I headcanon Two Time to be a pretty observant person, and while Two Time is usually closed off, they interact with Noob the most. Second being Elliot.)

So this situation about some kind of....force....controlling Noob? Hm.

Two Time thinks about that interaction, and doesn't just brush that conversation off. They will keep in mind of that, questioning about this "force", with furrowed eyebrows and a questioning gaze on their face as they walk down the hallway of the cabin they live in with the other survivors. (I also headcanon Two Time to be kind of...an overthinker. A great listener, but I think they would think too much about things. ALSO also feel like they're generally an anxious and paranoid fella, and it's canon that they're a little crazy in the membrane, so uh, they're pretty much unstable.)

And that's where it happened. Right after that interaction with Noob with a new round started, they felt warm. The type of warmth Noob described, a type of force that's controlling them.

Two Time felt their blood ran cold. Oh...wow. Two Time understands Noob's fearfulness now.

Immediately doing everything on their willpower to escape out of this force even just for little. They're LOCKED THE FUCK IN trying to stand like a statue (with the survivors giving Two Time weird looks and YOU, my dear player, being confused by this absurd behavior your character that you're playing as right now is showing).

Unfortunately, Two Time's attempt was futile, as their legs are jerked forward, forcing them to participate in the round. Throughout the round, Two Time's mind is running a marathon, while also making more attempts to get out this..warmth feeling off of them.

When the round ends, they would....keep this as a secret for some reason. We all know that Two Time's an enigmatic person, they want secrets to be kept as secrets. (Even then, their weird behavior earlier might've confirmed Noob's suspicion that there was, INDEED, something is controlling them.)

I feel like bro would just go from "OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK I WASN'T EXPECTING THIS SHIT HOLY SHIT I DON'T LIKE THIS PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE" to "wait.....what if they're some type of god...omg am i the chosen one ?!?! 🤯🤯🤯"

So the more rounds you played, the more they're starting to think that you're.....a type of deity. And they're slowly starting to stop their escape attempts of the "force".

It's canon that Two Time used to be a part of a cult that believes in the concept of respawning, and this belief grew stronger as time went on, so Two Time thinks that they've been blessed by the gods, and while Two Time can't really hear well of what you're saying, YOU might possibly get them out of this hellhole.

So basically, they slowly went from dreading your presence to......seeking your presence.

Doesn't help that they're pretty unstable though. My guy's gonna look STRAIGHT at you the screen with a smile that you don't whether they despise you or they worship you, which scares the LIVING shit out of you, making you exit out of the game QUICKLY.

And when you exit the game, the warmth automatically disappears from Two Time......which Two Time immediately felt disappointed with. They didn't mean to make you scared! They just wanted to know more about you!

Yeah, Two Time's bummed about that, but now, you're on their mind, and their feelings is having a battle of whether they should be weary of you or trust you.

(Will they eventually be obsessed with you and be desperate of your approval making them do anything, and by ANYTHING, they do for you? Maybe......possibly......likely....)

Overall, Two Time won't trust you at first. But overtime, they'll think you're like a deity or something similar, which is where they'll let you do whatever you want with them. (And where their obsession slowly starts.)

⭐️

CHANCE (canonically uses he/they!)

Chance is.....confused by all of this.

Chance was the third person to notice Noob's weird behavior. Overtime, they also noticed Two Time being...more in La La Land as well.

Chance just shrugs it off. Eh, he just thinks both of them are generally paranoid, and doesn't think too much about it.

HOWEVER, something weird happened to Chance today. When a new round started, they felt something.....odd in their body.

They felt warm, but a type of warmth that is....controlling his movements.

.......Ooooookay. This is weird.......... DEFINITELY weird.

Chance is caught off guard by this, and while some type of force is making him go to who knows what, his mind is jumbled.

Bro is CONFUSED, BEWILDERED, SURPRISED. He's having profound feelings of confusion.

They would be a teeny tiny bit scared at first, because, WOAH, HOLY SHIT, WHAT IS GOING ON????

But eventually, they would become....curious about this force.

Not only do they feel this type of warmth, but they also hear a voice as well......the voice's too muffled. Chance thinks it's probably his luxurious headphones, so he takes them off. The voice's still too muffled, damn. (You definitely noticed Chance taking off their headphones. You immediately go suspicious. Is your mind playing tricks on you or was this just a new animation apart of the new update that the developers forgot to mention?)

I feel like Chance would be the most calm about this. His canon personality type is ENFP, and ENFPs are usually social and open-minded, so I definitely see Chance wanting to know more about you. He doesn't think of you as a scary individual, and yea sure, he may be a little bit on edge, but he feels like you don't seem to be a bad person, which is why Chance becomes interested in you.

Chance would try to communicate with you by looking at the screen and giving you a smirk......which you immediately close your laptop.

Chance feels the warmth disappear, he feels like that one Spongebob meme that has a teardrop, while you on the other hand, feel like you're going insane.

Welp, guess he's gotta find a way to talk to you without making you feel scared.

He wonders if you'll like his pet bunny, Spade.

Overall, the most chill about this situation. He wants to interact with you more.

[jkl-fff]

Alright, after an inexplicable hiatus of a couple months, I have returned to finally complete my watch of the Hammer Dracula films! (Don't know why I always have such a difficulty finishing things, even when I'm right near their ends. Perhaps it's because, on an unconscious level, I fear completing things. Perhaps because completing things means I have to allow them to pass out of my life and into the world, where I no longer have control of them. Perhaps because completing things means I have to find a new occupation for my time, as this one will no longer serve.) This last one, The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires, is astounding. Really astounding.

Credit where credit's due: I'm really impressed that they had the guts to try something so bold and different from the rest of the series (a kungfu Dracula movie actually set in China, partnered with a Hong Kong studio and featuring a majority cast of Asian actors). And for an exploitation film (it has no less than 3 scenes with many topless women, the most of this series) made in 1973, it had some surprisingly progressive moments. Specifically, it prominintely features a woman martial artist who is as capable as her 6 brothers (and more so than Van Helsing & his son). It features *2* interracial romances with no hint of negative judgment against them. Van Helsing is nothing but genuinely respectful and admiring of the Chinese characters (their knowledge as he always recognizes his own ignorance on matters of Asian vampires, their country's sophisticated culture, and their martial arts skills) from beginning to finish. And they touch on the interesting theological and worldbuilding question of Christian *and* Buddhist iconography both having power to repel vampires. Oh, also Van Helsing wears an adorable pith helmet in many scenes with a ludicrously long ribbon for no discernible reason. That's great.

But the rest of the film ... For one thing, where is Christopher Lee? The supposedly-Dracula is played by a guy who is obviously not him, and with make-up that looks more like he was supposed to play the Joker from the Adam West TV series. Up until he posseses (I guess) a Chinese guy, giving us supossedly-supposedly-Dracula with hilarious voiceovers that do *not* match his mouth or gesticulations. The 7 Golden Vampires are the most ridiculous looking monster costumes I've ever seen, their hoard of zombies are impossible to take seriously since they spend most of their time *skipping and bouncing* (an allusion to jiangshi legends?) and with a weird chattering in the music (representing evil laughter?), and the large group fight scenes are nonsensical (that's not how people fight in a group) and visually confusing (can't tell zombies from farmers). The martial arts choreography isn't the worst I've ever seen (except for the twin brothers who have to always fight while holding hands for some reason? and the vampire whose reaction to being fatally stabbed is to do a backflip?), but it isn't great either. And the weapons look like shiny toys.

Still, it was interesting to see a flip on gender at the end. The woman martial artist is captured and strapped to one of the topless bondage tables, yet frees herself (masculinizing her because of her combat skills?) while the Van Helsing boy (easily the least capable character in terms of combat skills) who rushed to rescue her is laid out on another topless bondage table and needs to be saved by someone competent (feminizing him?). And Dracula (true to form) has another weakass death scene where he gets easily impaled (hilariously easy given all the fight scenes the Golden Vampires performed) *by throwing himself at Van Helsing* and then slumping onto his own topless bondage table to die (also feminizing him?).

Interesting ideas, poor executions that make it just seem nuts.

Still, this was a lot of fun! Thanks again, OP, for compiling and sharing this list!

with dracula daily in full swing and the arrival of spoopy season, i thought i might spend my bedridden day collecting links for all to enjoy the entire hammer horror dracula canon. feel free to check out my pinned for my personal thoughts on watch order, etc.

starred movies i particularly recommend as they follow a timeline, with unstarred movies mostly being extraneous/filler (yet amusing nonetheless).

⭐️horror of dracula

⭐️ brides of dracula

dracula: prince of darkness

dracula has risen from the grave

taste the blood of dracula

scars of dracula

⭐️ dracula a.d. 1972

⭐️ the satanic rites of dracula

legend of the seven golden vampires

happy watching!

[kaisentine]

── 𝑇ℋ𝓔 ℒ𝓐𝓝𝓖𝓤𝓐𝓖𝓔𝓢 𝓞ℱ ℒ𝓞𝓥𝓔 : the end of cupid’s bow!

ྀ۪۪۪ 𓈒 ─ 𝒯o start things off, i just wanna thank you guys for 200 followers! it’s been a little over 2 weeks since i reached 100 and i’m happy to add another hundred of you guys to that! for this milestone, i present to you the languages of love with the bllk boys! this is also in honor of valentines day . . .

𝓉his is a masterlist event ( honestly it’s more like a 200 follower special IDK ) where i write certain blue lock boys in the face of the 5 different types of love languages! they are multi-character works. they have no set release dates but hopefully i’ll be able to post them all before march 14 ( no promises! i’m a student guys have mercy . . . ) ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა lmk if you want to be tagged! tw : michael kaiser and itoshi sae are everywhere. edit : they aren’t going to be posted in order :’)

𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙞 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙞 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ₊˚ෆ. physical touch

── there isn’t anything more romantic than physical touch! the question is : how does he like to do it? ft. michael kaiser, itoshi sae, itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, nagi seishiro, oliver aiku

𝓎𝑜𝓊 ��𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒾’𝓂 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓁 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊 ! ♡

𝙞𝙛 𝙖 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙣 𝙙𝙤𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩, 𝙘𝙖𝙣’𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪? ₊˚ෆ. acts of service

── he’s such a gentleman, isn’t he? maybe or maybe not . . . let’s rate how much of a gentleman he really is! ft. michael kaiser, itoshi sae, itoshi rin, yukimiya kenyu, mikage reo, oliver aiku

𝓈𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝒶 𝓌𝒾𝓇𝑒 ♡

𝙞 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝? ₊˚ෆ. words of affirmation

── he’s not quite good with his words but you are . . . maybe he’ll take your personal lessons this time and put it to good use! ft. michael kaiser, itoshi sae, itoshi rin, shidou ryusei

𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒, 𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓎, 𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 ˙◠˙ ♡

𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨, 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮! ₊˚ෆ. gift giving

── there’s no price for a gift if you’re getting it for someone you love—he really fucking loves you. ft. michael kaiser, itoshi sae, shidou ryusei, mikage reo, oliver aiku

𝒾 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝒾 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝓎𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻 ♡

𝙞 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙞 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ₊˚ෆ. quality time

── just for now, you and him are the only people in the world. ft. micheal kaiser, itoshi sae, itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, oliver aiku

𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀 𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊’𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑒 ♡

[pleasantspark]

GAH! WHY THE FUCK CAN'T I COMMENT OR REBLOOOG ON THE NEO-NAZI POST!?!!?!

Well you guys did it, you have restricted my replies to EVERYTHING. Shitting up and sperging and defending blatant neo-nazi rhetoric and shitting up my comments with your complaints ruined any sort of productive conversation.

Instead it resulted in defending or blantly disregarding the seriousness of Shota and Loli and all and all being a spectacle and disrespecting my main wish of not forcing me to repeat myself.

I will clarify.

She has not responded to the allegations and she did TWICE and defended that behavior

If you think its fine because its a character in the movie, and try to pull the "South Park DID IT DEFENSE." you're a idiot, because Viv isn't South Park nor the levels of Sasague Party, she's supposedly a staunch supporter of POC and LGBTQ+ Rights but drew shit that goes against it, thus making her a hypocrite

If you wanted to debate bro me, do it to where you're not adhomeiem me nigga seriously, I am a BLACK POC and I find it annoying most of y'all act brand new because of a accusation she can debunk.

Kiss my ass

VivziePop is never gonna answe, because she already implied her fans were neo-nazis and if she were to address it now, it's too little too late.

She defended the subhuman tweet as them being "exhausted of criticism." Ah yes, because I am exhausted of people saying Cell x Orion is shit so I like a tweet calling an entire group of people from different walks of life (including Jewish heritage) a term that Nazi's used. That's completely fine!!!1!!!

I am only accepting asks for Dragon Ball now, because two people have ruined my day and misconstrued every single point, if you really think she's not a neo-nazi ask her to respond, do it and come back to my profile.

You can still reblog from me but reblogging to start shit or inboxing me to start shit will result in a full scale call out once again starting an infight I am fucking done bringing assessments to a table and having the knee jerk response times of a people who consider these statements and drawings as fine or not enough, y'all niggas need to settle the fuck down and understand that these are allegations and not fucking claims.

Comments are restricted to mutuals and I hope KiwiFarms sees this SHIT. Because I am READY for the Critical Community to get a fucking thread.

Y'all have become an oboros of constant sperging and harassment to the point y'all wanna harass others who try and claim their sides or downright harass others for their involvement with another creator you don't like, you need to all grow the fuck up and block one another.

I am welcoming to this thread because everyone wanna claim I am a POS for one singluar fucking post, this is why I hate this community and I rather die then justifying my claims, she's a fucking neo-nazi and I'd kill myself on this hill for that, she's never gonna change and you need to accept that, instead of living in lala world.

Sorry if I am mad, it's just that those shitting up comment threads been going on for three days with no end.

I am done giving the benefit of the doubt, so if you wanna talk to me about DBZ go ahead, but for now only mutuals can mention and comment, do not drag me into infighting circles or talk shit about me to other critics because you got mad I called a racist and general transphobic woman a neo-nazi. Grow some pairs and learn to grow the fuck up.

I'm leaving this for you guys.

[deadbeatbirdmom]

Happy Valentine's Day my fellow RWBY fans. This should be a day focused on love. Which is why I'm going to talk about something that's been troubling me for a while. This isn't about any single post, and I'm not singling anyone out. I'd put this under a read more cut but I think it's important enough not to do that. Scroll down for TLDR and a poll.

One of the common courtesies of tumblr etiquette is: don't tag hate with things like a ship tag or character tag. Or should be common, but let's face it, it's more like uncommon.

A good chunk of tumblr users who I end up blocking are those who post hate in tags like the 'Bumbleby' tag, or 'Yang Xiao Long' tag (it'd be the 'RWBY' tag too, but I don't often go there and rarely post in it). No, it's not toxic to block people, it's how you control your tumblr experience. It's how I avoid seeing hate, or try to.

But there are some tumblr users who I don't want to block but also end up putting hate in the tags: some of my fellow fans. It's not intended the same way as those who do it out of spite, but the end result is the same: your fellow fans end up seeing stuff they might prefer not to.

There's another rule, an old one that predates tumblr: don't feed the trolls. Don't give them attention. Please delete anon hate rather than answer it, although I definitely understand how trolling trolls can be fun. Just please don't tag it with the main tags or you'll do the anon's work for them if it's hate about a ship or character.

I see all too much fan art around that gets far less engagement than posts trying to fight back against hate (and unfortunately share the hate at the same time, especially when it's something from elsewhere like reddit or twitter). If you like the art, don't only hit that heart button, reblog it too!

RWBY fandom isn't dead, but we do need to do our part to encourage artists to make and share more art. Likes alone don't help the art get in front of more fans. I don't think everyone looks in the tags to find art, some will rely on those they follow reblogging art. This goes for sharing fic too! And giving fic writers comments (and kudos on AO3).

This is an appeal to keep negativity out of the main tags. I'm not saying you can't post whatever you want, just when it comes to tagging: please spare a thought for your fellow fans who are incredibly tired of negativity. If all else fails, maybe include a tag that can be added to filters? 'Wasps' for posts about Bumbleby hate, maybe?

I don't know about anyone else, but if I wanted to see hate and get angry, I'd be on twitter or reddit. I check tags here on tumblr to find fan art, and to see fellow fans talking about how much they love RWBY and its characters and ships, and find interesting theories and analysis.

I'm also not entirely sure how tumblr works with followed tags and words mentioned in posts. Do untagged posts still show up if the word appears in the post? Does that mean breaking the word with a backslash or something to avoid it showing up? I don't know, perhaps something to consider.

TLDR: please don't feed the trolls and don't tag hate with main tags. Show RWBY fan artists and fic writers some love and reblog their posts, and comment on fics!

One last thing: a poll to find out if I'm an outlier and posting hate is actually normal in this post-twitter world.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

I realized that I never officially posted this masterlist, so I thought today was better than never.

Y'all, I haven't completely gotten to read through this entire series, but @zepskies has put her entire heart into this one and what I have read so far is just so incredibly heart warming. It makes you have all the warm fuzzies and makes you cry (because it's so good- and also because there are HEAVY emotions). She develops both Dean's character and the reader, shows all facets of their relationship, and shows the two of them opening up to one another more and fall in love as the series goes on (plus there's a fix-it ending!!!). And this story is also just so wonderfully body positive and makes you want to give yourself a hug.

Everyone should read this, because you will not regret it!

Midnight Espresso || Series Masterlist

In honor of Hispanic Heritage Month, here's a Masterlist for all stories in the "Midnight Espresso"-verse! ❤️‍🔥☕

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-size Latina!Reader

Stories:

(**Notes 18+ only and/or smut)

Midnight Espresso** You’ve never taken Dean’s flirting seriously…until he asks you for an impromptu Spanish lesson. 

🎙️ Podcast Fic:

Want to listen to Midnight Espresso in podfic form, narrated by @talltalesandbedtimestories? Check it out below:

Then keep reading...

Touch Me** Dean isn’t used to how “touchy” you can be, but he never said he didn’t like it.

Devour Me** - Complete! When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. 

Part 1 - A Takeover Part 2 - Telenovela Style

Bad Boy (Chico Malo)** You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.

Show Me** - Complete! Dean meets your infamous ex-boyfriend at a fallen hunter’s funeral. You just forgot to mention that he’s a hunter as well. Maybe because he still has the power to get under your skin…in the worst of ways.

Part 1 - Objects Are Closer Than They Appear Part 2 - A Thorough Reminder

🎙️ Podcast Fic:

Get Stuffed Dean enjoys the way you cook Christmas dinner with a Latin flair, even if Sam likes to tease him about his insatiable appetite. You remind Sam about the true reason behind one of Dean’s biggest quirks.

A Wish to Build a Dream On** Dean has been harboring the archangel Michael in his mind for weeks now, putting a strain on your relationship. When Dean makes a wish that accidentally brings his father back from the dead, you get to meet the (in)famous John Winchester. But as always with magic, your boyfriend’s wish has unintended consequences.

A Little Danger** While relaxing together in the bunker, Dean takes your playful teasing to a new level. (And he’s too horny to care about the consequences.)

In Bad Weather** You and Dean tackle the biggest possible monkey wrench in your relationship yet: could Chuck have been manipulating you two all along?

[Set in S15 - "Fix It" for season finale]

Dream With Me** - Complete! When your ex-boyfriend calls for help on a case, you have a tough decision to make. But Dean isn’t going to let you do anything alone. (AKA: The last hunt you, Sam, and Dean will ever go on together.)

[Set in 15x20 - The true "Fix It" story]

Part 1 - On the Drop of a Dime Part 2 - We Can Fix This Part 3 - What is Deserved

Dean Winchester Series

Dean Winchester One-Shots

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

✍️ Writer Support:

Have you enjoyed the Midnight Espresso-verse? If you’d like to keep supporting me as I continue writing, you can:

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Become a Patreon Member 🌟

💌 Get Notified

Follow @zepskieswrites (with notifications on) to get notified every time I drop a new story.

[levi-ackerman-ds]

Valentine’s Day Disaster

Levi X Reader

Approx: 1.8k words. TW: Road Rage. Not proof read.

You knew you had plans tonight. Well, Levi did all the planning. That morning, you went to work with a smile on your face and on cloud nine, knowing that Levi would sweep you off your feet in his own way after work. Nothing could ruin your mood.

Everything ruined your mood.

The moment you sit at your desk, your co-worker just had to start with the problems they have in their life. In the beginning, you were patient and nice. You tried to listen to them, give them advice, and provide support. It didn’t take long for you to realize it was one-sided. The one time you shared something personal, somehow everyone knew about it the next day.

But for right now, in your small office, you are trapped listening to whatever relatively minor issue is absolutely world-ending. You hide your irritation with “Mmhmms” and “Oh, I’m sorry’s,” wishing they would just return to work and leave you alone. Great. Now you’re annoyed.

After lunch, you let out an audible groan as the number of one of your most demanding clients flashes across your office phone. You wanted to fire this customer so much, but money talks and your boss wants you to handle her. The phone wasn’t even to your ear yet but you could hear the speaker crackle and strain, trying to give clear audio through the screaming on the other end. Of course, her order being held up by customs is your fault. Of course, you are an idiot who doesn’t know how to do your job. You keep that fake fucking smile as you speak to her, trying to calmly explain that you have already told her the issue with customs many times.

No, you didn’t. You never told her anything!

Feeling the anger bubble up, you never wanted to “as per my last e-mail” someone so badly. But you can’t. You can’t insult this client, so you sit there and take whatever personal attack she decides to degrade you with. Great. Now you are annoyed and angry.

You try to keep your mind on the plans Levi has for you tonight. Grand gestures weren’t his forte, but for you, he would do it even if he’d grumble about it. The night will start with limousine services.

“You must get the best one! Reeeally make her feel important!” It was Hange’s idea. They seem to have an affinity for anything oversized.

Cliche, maybe, but neither of you had ever ridden in one, so why not? You had thought about that little divider that would close off the driver from whatever you were doing back there. Extremely tinted windows that no one could see into...

Levi had managed to put a deposit on a Rolls Royce Phantom 300 stretch. It was stupidly expensive. You remember his under-his-breath curses and grimaces on his face as he filled out the online form, securing it for your night. But you are his world; tonight, he wants you to feel special.

Booking the restaurant took six months in advance. It is already the hottest spot in town, but they are doing a once-in-a-lifetime Valentine’s Day event for the lucky couples who reserve a spot. Even this required a deposit to reserve seating. Dinner and a Show. You will eat the finest cuisine while enjoying an adaptation of “Romeo and Juliet.” It’s not exactly Shakespeare’s version and it should be a little spicy. Okay, very spicy.

Critics at the pre-screening left surprisingly positive reviews. “One would expect an erotic rendition of such an iconic classic that “Romeo and Juliet” is would be disastrous. I fully expected a banal show with overused tropes, actors that lack chemistry, and over-the-top “performances” that would make the most open-minded squirm in embarrassment. I can say with perfect alacrity that this show delivers in all categories. The allure and attraction between characters can best be described as a steamy passion with a deep connection. It definitely gives couples something to think about on the way home.”

Why do critics always sound that way?

“I was pleasantly surprised.” Wrote another. “It gave me tingles.” Short and to the point, at least. The ride in the limo back home might be a new stage for reenactment.

Still, you couldn’t get your client out of your head. No matter how much you tried to focus on the night’s events, that shrilling voice rang in your head. You don’t know how many times she called you an idiot while berating you for ten minutes. She got personal, insulting your intelligence, your appearance, any nit-picky thing to get a reaction out of you. You held your pleasant, apologetic tone the whole time, but as soon as you set the receiver down, you wanted nothing more than to scream your indignation to the world. You are good at your job. You know that. Right?

…Right? Are you?…

Could this day get any worse? Well, you know what happens when you ask that.

You thought you were in the clear when you finally clocked out for the day. Still angry and upset but holding on. Getting into your car, you set the stereo to play your favorite playlist. Maybe this will help your mood. Not even on the road for five minutes, and there is some asshole flying down the street behind you. He thinks you’re going too slow, but you are speeding slightly already. The entire hood of his car disappears in your rearview mirror as he rides the ass of yours. The blaring horn of his car startles you while he speeds up and slams on his brakes, suggesting he’s going to hit you if you don’t get out of his way. But there is nowhere to go. It’s a one-lane street.

When it opens to two lanes, you would think this jackass would just pass you and move on. But no. You really drew his ire. Passing you on the wrong side, he gets in front of you only to slam on his breaks. You slam yours in time, but you almost hit him. The deranged behavior coming from the other driver is nonstop. You can see him shouting in the cabin of his car even though you can’t hear it. Anger turns to terror as you realize this guy is actually trying to hurt you. He wants you to crash for having the audacity of making him arrive at his destination a couple of minutes later.

Moving lanes and pulling alongside you, he swerves his car into your lane, causing you to move into the oncoming road. Your heart races like a wild bird trapped in a small cage, desperately trying to escape. As you glance over, you can see him. Everyone thinks road rage is caused by some bug-eyed, wild-haired lunatic, but he was a perfectly normal-looking guy. Furious, yes, but completely ordinary. What could drive someone to do something like this?

Finally, he lets you back on the right side of the road, giving you the obligatory finger before speeding off. It took a few minutes for you to realize you were sucking in air like someone just rescued you from the bottom of a pool. The world was in sharp focus but felt so far away. You pushed yourself to drive home with your shaking hands and trembling muscles. You never want to be on the road again after this.

God, what are you going to do with your hair? Usually, this wouldn’t even be a problem, but you can’t focus. How dare that client suggest you were terrible at your job. You know how to do it, damn it. Should you paint your nails? One already has a chip in it. What the hell was that guy's problem anyway? You were already speeding. Why won’t that two-faced co-worker leave you alone? You know they talk about everyone behind their backs. You could have died today.

Now you are annoyed, angry, and very scared.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Levi’s dulcet tone greets you as you walk through the door.

“What’s so fucking happy about it, Levi?” You snap sharply.

You’ll regret speaking to him like that later, but for right now, you're hanging by a thread. Like a cartoon, the last strands of the last thread are snapping one by one. Thread of a thread. After everything that’s happened today, from annoyance to anger to terror. Your mind is just a flurried mess of thoughts. The co-worker, the client, the road rage mixed with the forced thoughts of your hair, your nails… Fuck, how can you even think about going out like this? And who can blame you?

Levi didn’t. Even when you snapped at him, he didn’t say a word. He could see the look in your eyes, how tense you were like a set mousetrap creaking under stress, the flush on your face, and the fact that you still hadn’t caught your breath.

You think of all the money he spent on deposits and reservations, all the time filling out forms and making sure the night would be perfect, all the effort to pull off something Levi doesn’t normally do. But you couldn’t. You just couldn’t do it. Just the thought of being on the road again made your heart twist.

Instead, he held you in his arms on the couch while some cheesy rom-com was playing on the television. Neither of you paid attention to it. You were too upset, and he was too focused on you. Levi did precisely what you needed him to. He spoke gently when you needed to and stayed silent when you didn’t. He never once mentioned the plans he made.

You run through every emotion we have names for. And probably some we don’t. Your hair was so soft between his fingers, and your cheeks were wet under the pads of his thumbs. The rapid beat of your heart was so hard even he could feel it on his chest. The wracking sobs made the top of your head bump under his chin.

You eventually relaxed, the tenseness in your muscles and the tone of your voice melting into the warmth of his arms. A little chuckle as you caught a bad line from the movie you weren’t watching.

He even saw you smile.

The next day, you felt horrible. You treated Levi terribly from the moment you walked in the door. How could you? Levi did so much so that you would feel special and you ruined it. All that money is wasted. He can’t get it back. The once-in-a-lifetime performance you made him skip out on. All because you had a bad day?

“I’m sorry, Levi. I ruined your Valentine’s.”

There was so much more you wanted to apologize for. You didn’t even know where to start. Even the apology sounded arrogant. How can you sit here and apologize after what you did?

He didn't even have to think about his answer. “What the hell are you talking about? I did exactly what I wanted to do for Valentine’s Day.”

[rayofsunshyne]

First Kiss: Chishiya x Reader

Synopsis: After coming back to the Beach injured from an 8 of Spades game, Chishiya and Kuina patch you up. Spending the rest of the night partying away, the unrequited feelings you feel toward Chishiya seem to be returned with a simple game of Spin The Bottle. However, will the two of you ever admit it the next day, fully sober?

“Game: The Floor Is Lava. Difficulty: 8 of Spades.” Greaaat. Just my luck.

“Rules: Complete three obstacle courses before each door closes. A button must be pressed after each level to initiate a closing door. Players will have ten seconds between each course. Level 1: Water, Level 2: Acid, Level 3: Lava.” Hmm… it seems like it’s in order of increasing difficulty. At least with water, you could technically save yourself as long as you know how to swim. And with acid… well, maybe you’d lose a limb, but there’s still a chance. With lava though…

“CLEAR CONDITION: Pass all three challenges. All three buttons must be pressed at the end of the game. It is GAME OVER if the player falls and perishes within each level’s corresponding liquid or fails to reach a checkpoint within the allocated time.”

“Time Limit: 35 minutes. The game will begin once the metal door opens.” So that gives us about 10 minutes per level… Well, Spade games are my specialty. There might be a chance after all.

The rusty metal door in front of you slowly creaks open, as you notice the other players around you tense up. There are about 11 total players, most of the others being members of The Beach.

“Level 1.”

The obstacle course opens up to a row of challenges, filled with various parkour and agility time-based activities. Everyone forms into a single line, and thus begins the first course.

Luckily, you face no wipeouts during this level, successfully making it to the button, though, you don’t press it yet. While you wait for other players, you notice some of the players, too impatient to wait, push the other players. That would be a nasty thing to do for the next two levels, but I wouldn’t put it past a human in their ultimate survival mode.

One way or another, everyone somehow manages to get to the first checkpoint, some skillfully navigating the course, others defeatedly swimming across. You press the button, initiating the ten-second door closing. You notice some water begin to leak out… This is not gonna cut it for the acid level. We need to close it earlier.

“Level 2.”

With the stakes raised, it was somehow exciting… almost like you were the main character of a video game named something like Mirror’s Ledge. I promised Chishiya and Kuina that I’d come back alive. And if I do, we will all have more than a week left on our visas, giving us some time to relax. I guess I just have to survive this game two more times…

You stretch out your legs and join the queue, carefully making each jump. A few players in front of you end up taking a swim in the acid, but you manage to make it to the button following two others. As you glance back, a number of other players make the final jump, but one woman lags behind, rather far from the checkpoint.

“The acid is rising fast… it’s even faster than the water. Let’s just push the button — it’s only one person,” proposes one of the Beach members. That’s true… It seems like this level is about 5 minutes shorter than the previous one.

The woman begins to plead, panicking as the acid approaches ever so closer.

“She still has time, let’s wait—” You try to reason, before a very panicked player suddenly slams his hand onto the button.

“W-what are you—” The woman cries and desperately tries to make her last jumps as she is inevitably sucked into the acid.

The door closes, only a few drops of acid leaking out this time.

“Any longer and we wouldn’t have even made it to the lava,” the panicked player tries to reassure himself.

You decide to put your opinions aside and just be happy that it wasn’t you. There’s no time for empathetic thoughts in the middle of a death game.

“Level 3.”

This time, you’re placed near the end of the line. And it seems like the lava is rising much faster than the water and acid. I’m gonna guess this one is 5 minutes long. There’s no time to hesitate.

Everything was smooth sailing when suddenly, right at the end, someone jumped and fell square onto your back leg, causing you to slide all the way to the edge of the platform.

As you desperately grip the ledge, you notice a significant weight pulling you down… the player is hanging onto your leg. This is… awkward.

“Let go,” you demand, shooting him a glare.

“Pull me up first!” the player begs. As much as you would like to, no amount of strength would allow this miracle to happen, as the lava is rapidly approaching your feet.

You let out a pained sigh and frown. “I’m sorry.” You shake your leg as hard as you can, making him let go and fall deep into the lava. Your platform sways and your leg briefly comes into contact with the lava, giving you a nasty burn.

“AHHHHHHHHHH!” You scream in agony, desperately pulling yourself up, only to see the doors already closing.

Bastards. You scoff, carefully trying to make the next jumps with your injured leg. And it had to be my right one too…

You barely make it through the shrinking opening with just a second to spare, burning your other leg in the process.

“GAME CLEAR. Congratulations.”

And just as you make it out of that hellhole, you notice everyone else is gone. Dammit. They really just left me to die like that. And I have to get home? With two injured legs?? Ughhh…

You take your visa and drag yourself to some overgrown greenery nearby. Finding two long branches, you try to make makeshift crutches, and slowly but surely, drag yourself back to The Beach.

Finally seeing the familiar lights in your sights, you make your final push into the entrance, collapsing immediately. You briefly notice a worried Kuina calling out your name before you black out.

…

“Y/N! Y/N!” You slowly open your eyes as Kuina frantically calls out your name. “You’re awake…” She smiles.

“Kuina?” You blink. “Wait, what happened—” All the memories of that last game flood back. “Oh… I’m so sorry, Kuina. I should’ve at least tried to get to my room, I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t apologize. And it’s not like I carried you here, haha…” Kuina laughs, glancing at something else.

“Then, who—” You turn your head, briefly locking eyes with Chishiya. He immediately turns away, seemingly upset.

“If only you saw how worried he was, he even princess-carried—”

“Kuina, we need some more ointment.” Chishiya interrupts, clearing his throat.

Kuina winks at you and leaves the room. Huh…? W-w-wait—

The door closes, and you’re left alone with Chishiya.

“So, you, uh… princess-carried me? Here? Really??”

“I told you to be careful.” Chishiya ignores your question.

“No, you told me to come back alive. I did.” You retort at Chishiya, frustrated with his know-it-all attitude.

“With third-degree burns on both legs. You might as well be dead—” Chishiya stops himself. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

“Don’t be, you’re right. I’m practically useless in this state.”

“I didn’t say—”

“Thank you for treating me,” you flatly reply, cutting him off, before turning away under the covers.

Chishiya sighs. “So, you’re just going to ignore me?” He pauses for a second. “I need to check your bandages, Y/N. Turn around.”

You huff and turn around, only to see him sitting right beside you. You meet his gaze, locking eyes for a few seconds before Kuina bursts back into the room. Chishiya immediately stands up as you avert your gaze.

“Hey guys, guess who’s back∼” Alongside the ointment, Kuina has a big, clinky bag — alcohol.

It’s true that I’m injured, and that we’re all stuck in this hell of a death game… but we all have over a week left on our visas — a day of partying won’t hurt!

Or so I thought…

“Kuina, you’re back! Are we finally partying at The Beach?” You ask, excited.

“That’s right! I’m sure we all need a day to just sit back and relax, and play some normal games, you know? Oh, here’s the ointment, by the way.” She hands it over to Chishiya.

“She’s injured, she’s not drinking. And I’m not either, it’s not healthy, especially under these circumstances. We always need to be on high alert. Kuina—”

Before he can begin lecturing Kuina, you pipe in: “I am drinking. And you can’t stop me.”

“Oh, really?” Chishiya challenges you, his classic smug smirk plastered on his face. “I think two out-of-commission legs tell you all you need to know that I’d win.”

“You wanna bet?” You retort, sitting up, letting out a wince.

“Woah, woah, the party hasn’t even started yet! Just let her drink, Chishiya, it could help with the leg pain, you know?” Kuina chimes in.

“That’s not—” Chishiya sighs. “...I’m leaving then, see you all later.” He gets up.

Kuina suddenly gets in his way. “Hey, who’s gonna take care of her after all the partying?” She points to you.

“You?” Chishiya plainly answers.

“Not if I’ll be as drunk as her!” Kuina laughs.

“You two are seriously not planning to drink that much, are you?” Chishiya asks, a little dumbfounded.

“And what if we are?” Kuina challenges him.

“...Fine.” Chishiya sits back down.

You and Kuina pour some drinks and begin playing a few drinking games, the loser having to take a shot of sake. Nothing too crazy.

When it seems like the sake isn’t having much of an effect, you two switch it up to shots of Vodka Cranberry. Chishiya watches cautiously, frequently pouring water for you both.

As the stakes rise, you are forced to take three shots of Vodka, on top of the previous three: the price of losing twice in a row, each loss stacking up another shot.

As you brace yourself, Chishiya takes your glass. “That would be six shots of Vodka, on top of the sake. That’s too much.”

You sway a little, trying to grab the glass. “Hey, give it back! I can handle it!”

Chishiya gives you a side-eye. “Yeah, right.”

“You drink it then, Chishiya!” Kuina chimes in.

“I don’t drink,” he firmly states.

“Then I’m taking it!” You reach over to grab the glass, but before you can take it back, Chishiya downs the whole thing.

“There, you happy?” Chishiya gives you both an annoyed look.

“Hell yeah! Cheers!” You two cheered, clinking your glasses together.

“I’m not drinking any more,” Chishiya adds, you and Kuina exchanging slightly disappointed looks.

Some games later, you two decide to play Spin The Bottle, a game only involving dares, allowing Chishiya to play.

At this point, you and Kuina feel quite drunk, but still in the partying mood. Chishiya comes back with more water, and you notice him stumble on the way back. Is he a lightweight…?

“Chishiyaaa, you’re back, right on time for Spin The Bottle!!” Kuina exclaims, briefly explaining the rules. In this version, the player who is not the spinner or the one the bottle lands on, gets to decide what the theme is, whether it is a silly skit or the classic romantic route.

A few simple, lighthearted rounds pass. Soon after, it's your turn. You spin it, and after six seconds or so, it lands on… Chishiya.

“The theme for this round is… kissing!” Kuina decides, giggling.

“Okay…” You, already incredibly drunk, don’t even think it through and immediately approach Chishiya.

“W-wait, what…?” You’ve never seen Chishiya this surprised or flustered before, stuttering and all. Cute…

“You two have to kiss, that’s all∼” Kuina explains.

“Why kiss? Why can’t we just hug or something instead?” Chishiya counters.

“Oh, it’s okay if you don’t want to…” You reply, slightly slurring your words.

“I didn’t say I didn’t want—” Chishiya stops himself, as you feel a hand on the back of your head.

In the next second, your lips gently press against Chishiya’s, as he reflects the same surprised look you’re giving him — both of your faces stained red from the embarrassment and alcohol.

The hand on your head releases, but Chishiya doesn’t pull away. Instead, he places a gentle hand on your cheek and deepens the kiss, interlocking your lips, finally giving you a kiss on the cheek and pulling away.

Whatever happens afterward is a blur. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was simply not important, but the next thing you know, you wake up alone on your bed. Kuina and Chishiya gone, the alcohol gone. What a strange dream…

But it wasn’t.

Because why would both Kuina and Chishiya be avoiding you all of a sudden? You catch Kuina, demanding an explanation.

“Kuina!” You rush toward her, as fast as these crutches could let you.

She turns around with a worried expression. “Aren’t you supposed to be resting right now?” She rushes to help you stand. “Those crutches are for emergencies!”

“Well— this is an emergency!” You blurt out.

“H-huh? Really? What happened?” Kuina goes on high alert.

“Uh…” You think about how to phrase this. “Do you remember what happened last night?” A probing question shouldn’t hurt…

“Last night… ahh I’m so sorry, Y/N! I was super drunk and I-I know that’s no excuse but I really didn’t mean to…” Kuina bows her head.

“Didn’t mean to what?” I don’t remember Kuina doing anything…

“Wait, you really don’t remember? Ahh this is gonna sound pretty bad…” Kuina takes a deep breath. “We were playing Spin The Bottle, and it was your turn. The bottle landed on Chishiya and I decided the theme to be kissing, since uh you two both like each other but clearly won’t admit it… Anyways! Since you two were taking way too long… I kind of just… p-pushed you two together…” Kuina pauses, looking at your reaction.

“...so the kiss was real?” You whisper to yourself.

“O-oh, you do remember that?” Kuina asks.

You nod, trying to process everything she just said. We really… kissed? Oh my goddd, what do I even do now?? It seemed like Kuina initiated it, but she said we ‘both’ like each other…? Wasn’t Chishiya just friend-zoning me though? With a brain like his, I’m sure he already knows but doesn’t see the point in telling me—

Kuina interrupts your thoughts. “I already asked Chishiya, but it seems like he doesn’t remember anything… I guess he really is a lightweight, huh? Either way, I’m really sorry about everything…”

“Kuina… it’s really okay, I forgive you. It’s no big deal to me… but how did Chishiya react to the news?” You asked, curious.

“Well, to be honest, after I apologized to him, he just forgave me and went on with whatever he was doing. With that kind of reaction, I’m sure he didn’t remember and was just pretending — as that would put him in a vulnerable position, I suppose,” Kuina replies.

“I see…” You pause to think for a moment. “Well, thanks for telling me Kuina! I’ll go back to my room now.”

“Let me help you at least—” You cut her off.

“Don’t worry about it, Kuina! I made it here in one piece, and I’ll make it back too, trust me. I’ll see you later∼”

You wave goodbye to her. “Alright… see you! Take care of yourself, okay?”

As you head back to your room, you notice a familiar blonde figure standing right at your door, seemingly debating whether or not to open it.

“Chishiya?” You look up at him.

You see a small flinch before he turns around to face you, his signature smile on. “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?”

“You’re the second person to ask me that today…”

“The first one was Kuina, I guess?”

You nod and open the door. “Well, uh… I’m going to head in now. Were you going to check up on me?”

Chishiya follows you inside. “Yeah.”

The door shuts as you sit down on the bed. “Before that, can I ask you something?”

“What is it?” Chishiya starts preparing everything for your check-up.

“Wait, Chishiya.” You tug on his hoodie. “Can you talk to me face-to-face for this?” You pat on the space beside you.

“Alright… what’s up?” Chishiya sits down next to you, slightly avoiding eye contact.

“Um… about last night… do you really not remember anything?” There’s just something not right about how he reacted in Kuina’s story. Even though I get where his thought process might be coming from based on Kuina’s assessment, I feel like he actually does remember…

“Do you?” Chishiya turns the question back to you.

“Hey— I asked first!”

“I’ll tell you if you tell me.” Chishiya smiles.

“As if I’d believe that.” You scoff.

“Information isn’t free.” He shrugs.

You give him an annoyed look. “I remember some things.” If you’re gonna play this game, so will I.

“Like what kind of things?” Chishiya inquires.

“Hey, one question at a time— and isn’t it your turn?”

Chishiya just keeps smiling, not saying anything.

“Y-You! I knew you’d just— I’m not saying anything until you do.” You pout.

“Alright, I guess the conversation is over now—”

But before Chishiya can get up, you get up to grab his arm. However, because of your injured legs, you suddenly lose balance…

The next thing you know, the two of you are on the floor, Chishiya hugging you, taking most of the impact.

Chishiya quickly lets go of you, and you prop yourself up. “S-sorry! Are you okay?”

As you turn to face him, all you can see is him looking away with a flushed face.

“What if I said I remembered… everything?” Chishiya speaks up in a quiet whisper.

You blush upon hearing that. “I would say… me too,” you reply in a shaky voice.

Chishiya’s eyes widen.

“...and I have no regrets.” You look at Chishiya, locking eyes.

“Then… can I…” It seems like he can’t get the words out, but you get what he means.

“Yeah…”

You lean in as he gently cups your face, pulling you into a deep kiss — sweet, lingering, and filled with all the words left unspoken.

[piracytheorist]

In Life, And in Death (1/11)

Fandom: Spy x Family Word count: 4.1k for this chapter | 32.4k in total Rating: T Warnings: Temporary character death, graphic violence, horror imagery, body horror, mild gore, whump, language Cover art by @buf309

Summary: Anya is kidnapped, and Twilight is thrown into the horrors of a mysterious, deadly village. Forced and then choosing to survive its trials - physical and mental - he's brought to figure out who he truly is. (A Resident Evil Village fusion)

AO3

~

Author's Note: Probably my most insane fanfic project yet. After I successfully probed SOMEONE, aka @spencer-is-someone, into watching a Resident Evil Village gameplay, they fell in love with Ethan Winters but felt he went through too much in the game, prompting the idea "What if Loid went through all that stuff instead". And well, 32 thousand words later, here I am, inflicting this literal horror upon y'all.

I made a post about it, and the absolutely wonderful @buf309 went and made this amazing cover art, and I literally couldn't be more thankful for that. I was so amazed when I saw the first draft sketch that I went like I'M GONNA WAIT TILL IT'S READY TO POST THE FIC. Seriously, words cannot describe how grateful I am, I sincerely hope the fic feels satisfying enough for the work you've done <3

If you know how the Resident Evil Village story goes, this is pretty much the same... yes, in all of its "parts-in-jars" glory (if you know you know, if you don't you will soon), just with Twilight taking the place of Ethan Winters. There will be a few changes from the original story to fit Twilight's character, some to facilitate the adaptation from game narrative to fanfic narrative, some to fit my own tastes, and an actually hopeful ending because we were all left heartbroken after the ending of RE Village so might as well pour some healing juice to put our hearts back together same way Ethan puts his limbs back together and hope for the best.

Do take note of the warnings, please. There is one part of the story I actually had chills while writing (yes, that part for those of you who know, it will be slightly changed but the essence will be the same) and it is based on the story of a horror/survival game, so make sure you're okay to read something as intense as this.

The story is written in full, though I'm still doing small bits of editing here and there. I don't have a posting schedule, but I'm thinking of updating twice a week, or once if I see the editing is taking longer. Chapter titles are taken from track titles of the game's original soundtrack.

So yeah, long intro over, take not of the warnings, I hope you enjoy if you read on!

~

Chapter 1: Bloodthirsty

~

“Anya, don’t sit so close to the TV,” Loid said, not looking up from the counter.

Unsurprisingly, there was no response. He wouldn’t doubt that she hadn’t even heard him, let alone acknowledged his request.

He picked up a handful of minced meat to mould into a burger steak, deciding to give her another reminder in two minutes from now. Yor had just left to walk Bond, so it was only his direction she had to follow – and she was starting to make clear whose directions she preferred to follow nowadays.

He placed the burger on the pan as his body tensed. A split second later, the door burst open.

He jumped through the opening between the kitchen and the living room, but even that seemed a pointless blessing as thick smoke quickly covered the apartment.

He rushed through it to grab Anya, who trembled against him, but he didn’t have the time to move away from the shots.

Two silenced shots, piercing through his clothes and reaching into the skin of his back.

No blood. But they were pinching his skin, and he immediately felt groggy…

He dropped to his side, unable to move as figures approached him. One of them took Anya.

“PAPA!” she screamed at him.

He feebly raised his hand. “Wait,” was the only thing he could say, before his hand dropped.

More figures approached him, and then his vision went dark.

~

Focus, Twilight.

Don’t open your eyes yet. Don’t alert the enemy yet.

He held his breath for a moment.

He was somewhere cold, outside.

He could feel something soft but freezing underneath him. Snow?

His hair didn’t feel wet, so he mustn’t have been lying there long.

It was quiet. He could only hear distant sounds of wind and crows flying somewhere close.

He couldn’t feel anyone’s presence, so he decided to open one single eye to check.

But then both his eyes shot wide open.

In front of him stood a magnificent gothic mansion. It could be a mansion, or it could be a damn castle. It was surrounded by a thick wall, like a fortress.

He sat up. He was indeed lying on the snow, but it was the least of his concerns right now.

He had apparently been placed on the castle’s garden. Right in the middle of the winter, it was only decorated by a few naked trees as well as three scarecrows.

Those didn’t seem to do their job well enough, he thought, as crows still flew around, some even sitting on them.

He got up, checking himself for injuries. He couldn’t feel any pain or any indication of pierced skin. How had they drugged him?

It was then he realized he was now wearing his jacket.

Had they dressed him for the cold? While taking off his apron and the gloves he wore while preparing food?

What the hell?

Where even was this place?

Why was he brought here?

Where was Anya?

His attention was drawn back to the apparently useless scarecrows, and a chill ran down his spine – unrelated to the cold – when he noticed something eerie about them.

Carefully, he took a few steps towards them.

His breath caught in his throat when he was close enough to notice.

Those weren’t plain scarecrows.

Those were actual, human bodies hanging on wooden crosses.

His breath finally came out shaky, forming a cloud.

What the hell was this place?

Unable to quell his curiosity, he stepped closer, trying to notice for any details on the bodies, in case he recognized them.

All three seemed to be men, of ages between thirty and fifty, and they couldn’t have been dead for longer than a week or so. The cold might have preserved their bodies, but exposure to the outside would do as much more damage.

He couldn’t recognize any of their faces – or what was left of them.

Well, he didn’t even know where he was, how far away from Berlint or even in Ostania for that matter.

He clenched his hands into fists and turned around, looking around the walls surrounding the castle.

There was a huge metal door blocking the path outside. No climbing the wall; it was too smooth and covered in even more slippery ice. Climbing the trees wouldn’t give him enough height to swing himself out.

Which meant, his only way of getting answers was through the castle.

He must have been placed there for a reason, after all, and if they’d wanted to kill him they would have already done so.

He reached the entrance, and the door swung open easily.

The entrance hall was as luxuriously decorated as the outside hinted at. A lush burgundy carpet went up the few steps, leading to a wall where a painting of three young women hung.

The door closed behind him, and he didn’t miss the definitive clang as metal bars started descending right in front of it.

He turned, and for a few seconds he weighed his options.

He could break the door quickly enough before the bars descended too low, and slip outside.

But then again, they obviously wanted him in there, and again, it didn’t seem that killing him was their priority.

He faced forward, ignoring the sound of the bars trapping him in there.

He might as well play their game.

He walked to the painting. Underneath it was an inscription that wrote “Bela, Daniela, and Cassandra.”

Which one was which?

The women on the painting didn’t seem too different from each other. The painting itself didn’t seem all too enlightening, either; it looked like any common Romantic-style oil painting.

Well, it wasn’t going to give him any answers, would it?

He turned around, walking down a corridor and out into another, larger hall. He noticed how warm the whole building was, despite the freezing weather outside and the apparently old construction of the place.

This hall had hanging, lit candles all over the walls, though they couldn’t be the source of the heating. The lighting was low, but lucky for him, he’d been trained enough in low lighting for that not to be an issue.

He jerked back at the sound of a swarm of flies coming his way, then he sensed someone’s presence.

Flies, he could handle.

But then the flies started gathering together, and within seconds they morphed into three women, dressed in black hooded cloaks.

“Wha—?” he whispered.

“Looking for Anya?” a voice said, and he assumed it’d come from one of the women. Who had just formed from flies.

The absurdity of his situation almost made him forget that she had just mentioned Anya.

Which meant they probably knew where she was.

However, he was too shocked by the sight that he couldn’t move when one of the women, all of whom were cackling, approached him and pushed him backwards.

She swung the scythe she held in her hand, and he pulled his legs away just before she could bury it in his calf.

“Oh, he’s feisty!” the woman said with a wide smile.

Her arm then almost zapped through the air, and his left leg was exploding in pain before he could even register the movement.

He yelped in pain as she leaned closer to him and took a long sniff.

Her mouth and jaw were covered in blood, though her blond hair looked pristine clean.

“Mmm, man-blood,” she said.

She then leaned back and started dragging him, by the scythe embedded in his leg, as he still lay helplessly on the ground.

She was too fast. He flailed around, trying to grab at anything they passed by to make her stop, even though that would mean the scythe would rip his entire leg open, but then another woman reached his other side and buried her scythe in his right leg.

He threw his head back, biting down another yell of pain.

Could he just have one moment?!

The women dragged him down another corridor and into what he quickly realized was a bedroom. They removed their scythes, and he quickly reached to assess the damage, when he heard the blond woman say “Mother, I bring you fresh prey,” as she pointed at him with her hand.

“You are so kind to me, daughters,” came a voice of a woman who sounded older than them.

Older, and bigger.

She was sitting on a massive chair, holding an equally massive glass of red wine. She took a sip from it, then stood up and turned to him, saying, “Now, lets take a look at him.”

He raised his head to look at her.

And then raised it higher.

She had the build of a muscular woman, with curves proportionate to her height, which must have been about three meters tall. She wore a black wide-brimmed hat over her chin-length black hair, and a long white dress that reached down to her feet, though she moved comfortably in it.

“Well, well. Loid Forger,” she said. “Came looking for your daughter, I presume?”

He sat there, frozen.

They knew who he was – or at least pretended to be? And they knew Anya was also taken?

She walked closer to him, smiling as she put her hands on her hips. “For you to think you can waltz right in here—let’s see how special you are,” she nearly purred.

She threw her hands up in a sign for something, and two of the younger women said “Yes, mother,” as they grabbed his arms and pulled him up.

His first thought was that he was standing up surprisingly well for just having had two scythes ran through his legs.

His second thought was terror as one woman grabbed his hand, and the other produced a very sharp-looking knife.

Before he could jerk back, she sliced his palm open.

He bit back a grunt; it wasn’t a deep cut, but it would be annoying…

His last thought trailed off as the tall woman reached down, grabbed his hand, brought it to her lips… and started sucking.

Now he really was frozen in terror.

What the hell was this nightmare?

The woman pulled her head back, licking at her lips with a blood-soaked tongue.

She threw his hand away. “Hmm,” she said. “Still fresh, but only barely.”

He wrapped his hand into a fist, keeping it close to his chest.

“Then let’s devour his man-flesh quickly, mother!” one of the women said, handing a handkerchief to her.

“But I’m the one who captured him!” the blond woman protested.

“Now, now, daughters,” the tall woman said, patting at her lips with the handkerchief. “First, I must inform Mother Miranda. But later, well, there will be enough for everyone.” She threw the handkerchief aside, smiling down at him. “Put him up!”

The young women surrounded him, and though he struggled, they were too strong for him as they put heavy manacles on his wrists.

A thick build, but he could break out of them with little effort.

But then, they secured a chain to them, and the chain started going up. He was lifted off his feet, and started grunting as the full force of his weight fell on his wrists.

Don’t say anything. Don’t let them take a hold of any weaknesses.

He clenched his jaw, keeping his voice from making any sounds as they headed out of the room. The tall woman had to bend to get through that door, and one of the young women – the second one who had stabbed his leg – bent down and picked up the discarded handkerchief, smelling the blood on it and laughing, as she followed them.

Breathing hard, he looked up at the manacles.

The pain was intense but manageable, though he already felt the tingling of numbness in his fingers. By his calculations, he had about fifteen or so minutes before cut blood circulation would start causing permanent damage.

Escape, first. Then you can freak out.

He grabbed the chain and dragged his body up. Though his legs were still bleeding, he brought them up so he could hold the chain between his feet.

He was gasping by the time he managed that, but at least he had less pain on his hands and a better view of the manacles.

They were old and rusty, but seemed to have a fairly standard locking mechanism. Bringing his body closer, he fished the lockpick out from a hidden pocket of his jacket.

Biting his lip, he worked through the lock of the right manacle. Just as it opened, his feet slipped from the chain and dropped down, causing all of his weight to drop onto his injured left hand.

The pain knocked the air out of his lungs.

Think! Think! Pull yourself together!

Taking in a laboured breath, he looked back up.

The lockpick had slipped from his hand and was now too far down for him to get it. His right hand was free, but he didn’t have any other options left.

Reaching up, he wrapped his free hand around his left thumb, and with a sharp pull, he dislocated it.

As his other hand was coated in blood from the cut, his wrist slipped through the manacle as soon as his thumb wasn’t in the way.

He dropped to the ground clumsily, not managing to balance his landing.

Wheezing, he looked at his left hand.

Bleeding, and a dislocated thumb.

He gave himself ten seconds.

Ten seconds to wonder where the hell he had gotten himself into, what that tall woman even was, standing at three meters tall and drinking blood, and what her “daughters” were, emerging from flies and also participating in… blood drinking? Cannibalism?

Ten seconds, and he was back to himself.

Focus, Twilight.

He looked at his legs – they were still bleeding, but he felt confident he could stand on them. Though those scythes looked sharp, they must have split a tendon or two apart.

At the corner of the room stood a vanity table, and on top of it, along with various cosmetics, lay a small green bottle with a cross on the label.

He stood up carefully, glad that his legs weren’t trembling. He picked up the bottle, carefully reading the label.

Medical alcohol.

Not one to trust this place that much, he opened the lid, and sure enough, it smelled like ethyl alcohol.

He sat down with a grunt, pulling his right trouser up. He didn’t have any clean gauze, so his only option was to pour liquid right over the wound.

He braced himself for the sting of pain, but instead, the liquid brought a cool, numbing sensation.

And then, right in front of his eyes, his wound closed then disappeared completely.

He stared at it.

Ten more seconds.

What the hell.

He looked at the bottle again. Medical alcohol, it said. It smelled like it too.

He looked back at his leg, raising his other trouser where the other wound still stood.

What the hell?!

Uncertain, he poured a little less liquid over that wound.

The wound immediately stopped bleeding as new skin seemed to form, though it didn’t heal completely.

He let out a breath. If he were honest with himself, this wasn’t really the weirdest thing to happen in the last few minutes, was it?

He turned to his mangled hand. Just how much could that liquid heal?

He poured an equal dosage to it, and was still surprised to see his thumb painlessly slide into its place, as well as the cut close completely.

Well, at least it could be useful.

He didn’t have time to worry over the supernatural. He had to get out of there, and find out where Anya was.

He took the path of unlocked doors, as he didn’t want to waste time and noise trying to break the lock of every locked door he found. Breaking the windows wouldn’t lead him anywhere – each one was sealed shut, and though he wasn’t averse to turning into a hooligan for the sake of escaping, the entire castle seemed to be surrounded by that wall.

He needed to get to a higher floor, but the safest and most silent path led him to the basement, where he found himself walking along piles and piles of dead bodies.

He had to hold his breath as he passed them by; apparently the occupants of the castle had the habit of feasting on the blood of humans, and did it so often that the amount of bodies was too big to act as decoration for their garden.

It was all men, however. As young as twenty-three, from what he could gather with a quick look.

The fly-women seemed to be confident enough in their hunting that they didn’t take away the handgun from one of the more fresh bodies. Twilight couldn’t tell if that was a police officer, a soldier, or a man aware of what he’d been dealing with, but it didn’t matter to him. He undid the holster, as gently as he could out of respect of the deceased man, and he put it on under his jacket.

He checked the magazine. Ten bullets out of sixteen.

He looked at the man. Had he shot those first six bullets right before he was killed?

The man had a shoulder bag on him, and inside was a box of bullets, a total of forty. He slid that too over his own shoulder.

He kept the safety on the gun on, but held it in his hand. He picked up a hunting knife from one of the other bodies and walked on.

As the bodies thinned out, he found a lone skeletal figure draped in a plain canvas cloak. The limbs stood out, bare, emaciated, and rotting. While other bodies were in a similar state of decomposition, they were fully clothed, at most with a few rips in their clothes. This one was the only one so bare.

And it was holding a scythe in its hand, old and rusty in comparison to the women’s scythes, but still sharp enough to do harm.

He approached it carefully, keeping both hands on the gun.

He thanked his training for that, as the figure moved when he passed right by it.

He yelped in shock, moving away from it and raising his gun at it.

“Stop!” he said. “Don’t move!”

The creature, whatever that was, didn’t seem like it listened let alone register his words. It stood up, hunched over, then lunged at him with the scythe.

Not finding any alternatives, he shot right at its head.

The creature jerked back as a screech left its mouth.

Twilight held his breath.

His blood froze when he saw it still stand on its legs and try to swing at him again.

He shot again. He was perfectly certain the bullet got through its head.

Yet the creature moved again.

And he shot again.

Only now did the creature finally drop to its knees, but it was still screeching and growling.

Desperate, Twilight took the knife and drove it through the creature’s skull, three times, until he felt it stop moving.

It collapsed on the floor.

Hell knew if it would rise again. It was supposed to be dead already, wasn’t it?

He turned around and ran.

There were more creatures on the way. Some he slashed at with the knife, some he shot at, some he simply ran away from. A few managed to nick him with their scythes, and if he were honest, he was more worried about infections than the injuries themselves.

As he found a quiet corner, he pulled out the alcohol – or whatever that was. It seemed to work on the nicks too, making them close quickly and painlessly.

He supported himself on the wall, forcing his breath to calm down.

He had to get out. Now.

Holding the gun tight to his hand, he moved to leave, but then a buzzing and a voice sounded from behind him.

“Hmm. Warm, bright, red blood.”

He didn’t turn to look at her. He knew it was the blond woman.

He made a run for it as flies swarmed around him, until he found a staircase going up, reaching into what looked like a kitchen area.

“Where are you going, little one?”

The woman appeared right in front of him, cutting off his path. She was smiling at him, surrounded by flies, her face still stained with blood.

“I just want to find Anya,” he managed.

“Aw,” she said. She then pushed him back and he fell on the ground. She lay over him, reaching at his neck and biting.

Yelling, he took the gun and fired twice at her stomach.

She reached up, laughing as fresh blood ran from her lips.

He shot at her head.

“Your bullets cannot harm m—”

Her voice cut off when another of his shots passed through her and hit the window behind her.

The glass cracked, and it quickly shattered as a cold gust of wind blew into the room.

The gust threw the woman’s hood off her head. Twilight tightened his hold on the gun when he spotted a massive, fleshy scar on her temple, a bald spot from her long hair.

The woman shrieked, then growled. Her skin, already pale as it was, seemed to start cracking and turn grey. She looked at her hands, still gasping in pain, and then turned to him, yelling, “You stupid man-thing!”

His mind finally picked up the pace. The cold made her weak?

He stood up, raising his gun at her.

“How dare you bare your teeth at us!” she shouted, then lunged at him with her scythe.

He managed to block her attack, pushing her back, and he shot at her face.

She groaned, still standing, but she said, “What? My body—it’s breaking…”

He kept his gun up. “Just let me go,” he said.

A wild rumble came from her mouth as she turned to attack him again. She reached him, and he could only block her at the last moment, his arms taking the full blow of her scythe. “Give up!” she said, reaching back for another swing of her weapon.

He shot twice at her head, and she yelled again.

The flies seemed to drop in numbers, and her skin cracked more and more. He barely managed to avoid two more of her attacks, and then she fell on him, ready to bite his head off, he supposed in the split second it took him to kick her off of him.

He shot two more times.

“This can’t be,” she said, weakly now, her body swaying.

“Let me go!” he repeated, taking two steps back.

She screamed and reached back with her scythe, and he shot again.

And then a sizzling sound came from her body, as she started swinging wildly, not reaching anything. She groaned and groaned, and her body transformed.

It seemed to calcify into gravel, as she slowly stopped moving, her hand still up in a pose of attack.

And then it broke down.

Whatever it was, it cracked into small pieces, and what started as the form of a woman was now a pile of something on the ground.

Breathing hard, he leaned his back on the wall behind him and slid down to the floor.

His hands were trembling, his feet felt like water.

What the hell was all that?

Were was he?

Why was he brought here?

And where was Anya?

What were those creatures…?

He closed his eyes. Ten seconds. Just ten seconds to freak out.

He just had to get out. Find Anya and…

He opened his eyes, his throat tensing.

Did he really have to find her?

As far as he was concerned, right now she was a liability to him. He had to prioritize his safety first.

It wasn’t like there were piles of bodies of dead girls around, was it?

Letting out a deep sigh, he stood back up. The woman had managed to hurt him a little, but the healing liquid was in short supply and he could handle those injuries up to a point.

The woman. Who was now a pile of ash.

Calm down, Twilight. Get yourself in order and find a way out.

The castle proved massive, and he couldn’t find any viable exit paths even as he seemed to reach what looked like hallways reaching into bedrooms.

Then, a mournful scream sounded from a floor below.

“What have you done to my daughter?!”

His blood chilled. If the “daughter” had been that vicious, he didn’t want to face whatever her mother had in store for him.

[arowyn-m]

Omfg this. This a thousand times over—I will never understand why they so clearly set up Jayce to be Ambessa's tool for conflict at the end of S1 only to completely disregard it in S2. Yes, Caitlyn was vulnerable and hurting, but she also had zero political power or experience beyond her mom wanting her to become a politician. ((Which—sidebar—Cait becoming a major political tool also reduces Cait's desire to become a detective into a stupid phase.)) Jayce was also hurting in the aftermath, and—unlike Cait—circumstances surrounding him made Jayce more than just "available". Having him would be advantageous.

On top of that, Viktor—the only person really convicted to stand in the way of Hextech weapons—is conveniently in a coma for a few weeks, and S2's Ambessa sees no value in taking advantage of that, even though she was there in the immediate aftermath of the explosion. Even if Ambessa wasn't aware of Jayce and Viktor's closeness before, she would have seen it in Jayce's panic to save Viktor's life.

Another convenient thing to consider—it would take zero effort to make Jayce the de facto head of the Council once Mel is no longer in the equation. S1 never set up Salo as a real force to be reckoned with, so idk why they elaborated on his character any further.

So here's a summary of advantages of Ambessa making Jayce the leader of the Council over Caitlyn:

Jayce is easy as hell to manipulate

Viktor—who is Jayce's conscience/voice of reason in some respects—is conveniently out of the picture for the first few weeks—the time in which political action and decisions surrounding military force matter the most. It was never Jayce's personal conviction to keep Hextech weaponry out of the equation—he was only respecting Viktor's wishes.

Jayce is already on the Council, and the only other considerable person on the Council will be taken by the Black Rose (OR, if that doesn't happen, would still refuse to be manipulated by her mother) Salo was only ever a factor because Ambessa allowed him to be.

Jayce is one of two human beings on earth that know Hextech well enough to build Hextech weaponry from scratch. Ambessa having both the inventor of Hextech and the head of the council under her thumb in ONE would be a considerable asset.

These next points are on a meta, storytelling level but the points still stand:

Jayce being the leader of Piltover would make a hell of a lot more sense lorewise than Caitlyn assuming that role. Caitlyn was never a politician in lore—she was always the detective who was so good at her job that she rose ranks and became The Sheriff.

Viktor and Jayce's fallout would be a lot more personal if, on paper, Jayce was the one orchestrating the whole operation of making Hextech weapons. In that vein, Viktor and Jayce's hatred of each other in lore would also play out, whereas in S2 Viktor has a hazy, spiritual outlook on life (very unlike the very grounded, logical character a lot of us loved in S1) and Jayce is just sad, then later batshit crazy in act 2. For some reason the narrative flips the script on that one in Act 3, giving the "batshit crazy" to Viktor and making Jayce the fate-guided one. It's strange.

Caitlyn's arc in S1 does not at all lend itself to a dark political arc. Caitlyn's A to B in S1 was going from seeing Zaunites like the rest of Piltover does (scum, uncivilized, generally bad people, etc) to seeing Zaunites as people that need help. She then meets Jinx, who is the one Zaunite that she met that actually is a terrorist, and suddenly throws out her brain because she's so aggrieved for a mother that she was convinced hated her??? No. Caitlyn's natural next step after the events of S1 would be to be appointed as the next Sheriff by Jayce so that Cait would have all the manpower she needs to hunt JINX. I sincerely doubt the Caitlyn of S1 would have flipped on a dime and decided that all Zaunites are fine to risk in a manhunt for Jinx herself.

THIS RIGHT HERE was the juiciest, ripe-for-future-conflict season 1 dynamic imo that the season 2 writers either forgot entirely, or didn't give a single shit about.

Season 1 ends with the entire council the victim of a terrorist attack and Jayce just... hides in his lab. Being sad. He gets to care about Viktor and NOTHING ELSE for the rest of the show.

None of his other relationships matter, none of his politics matter. His desire to protect the city and improve lives with Hextech vanishes without a trace. He's given no self reflection after the mother of the child he killed comes after him for vengeance, just goes ahead and makes weapons again. Renni may as well have not said a word to him about her son. He never reacts to it.

Ambessa never tries to speak to Jayce again despite her wanting him to make Hextech weapons. Despite how easy it was for her to manipulate him to recklessness after their one(1) conversation. No, instead she hitches her horse to a worm like SALO and needlessly tries to get Jayce killed... Don't get me started again on how stupid they made Ambessa in general.

And poor Mel gets to act meek before Caitlyn of all people, gets a completely worthless shimmer subplot, and then gets whisked away to magic exposition land. And then she comes back and kills her mom. In combat. With her new magic powers.

God...

They could have let Jayce be the hapless hopeless loser forced into a position of authority he never wanted over two warring cities, ping ponged between the manipulations of two ideologically opposed political powerhouses with family drama. But nooooooo that would be too much work :(((