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holdmyowos · 4 years ago

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Little Bird (Hawks x Yandre Reader)

Includes: Non con, yandre reader

Quirk: Swallow (the type of bird): you have a pair of wings and two long tail feathers.

Your first day at the hero agency. You were looking forward to this. The number two and number five heroes working together? It would make news halfway across Japan. The crime rate would be next to none in the city you two resided in. Last week, you had interviewed to be a partner to Hawks, in the business sense, of course. His real name was Keigo Takami. He was a handsome guy, perhaps the hottest dude you had ever seen, and you were instantly infatuated. Luckily, he had taken a shine to you as well, though perhaps not in the way you liked. “Birds of a feather have to stick together, right?” He had joked. How many times had you heard that? All your life people had thrown bird jokes and insults your way. He had to have the same experience, but here he was, dishing it out. You rolled your eyes. On your way out of the interview, one of his secretaries remarked quietly to her friend, “Oh, great, another bird brain.” Hawks did not care, and just went up to her and struck up a conversation about some random thing. She was in your way. You would need to take care of her.

The first week went by, and as you expected, crime rates were near nothing, so you had nothing to do but greet fans and make public appearances with Hawks. Since he was so outgoing, next to him you seemed timid, shy, and kind. Slowly, you flirt with him a bit, until it becomes nearly obvious. He seemed perhaps uninterested in you, or more focused in his work. Either way, he never makes any comment that could lead that he likes you back, other than things that he says to all. One thing you had noticed, was that every time you called him sir, he would become flustered. “You have wings, but can’t use them? That’s odd. How did you even get to the fifth hero spot like that?” He asked. “Sir, I never really needed them, with my eyesight and hearing, not to mention my fast reflexes. Besides, what if I tried and fell?” You looked up to him for guidance. He cleared his throat, blushing. “Well, first of all, please don’t call me sir. Second of all,” he took a step away from you. “Don’t look at me like that. And third, I’ll show you how to use your wings,” he decided for you, letting your feathers from your wing stretch between his fingers. It felt odd, almost intimate. No one ever touched them. You stiffened up.

“Hawks, not like this! I’m not ready!” You wailed from the roof of the skyscraper. How had he dragged you up here, again? It was just after your hero agency had closed, at nine. It was dark out. “You’ll be fine! Just jump and spread your wings like a little birdie!” He made dumb flapping motions with his hands. You sighed, clinging to the pole as if it was a raft in the ocean. He came over and pried you off of the metal. “If it doesn’t work out, I’ll catch you. You know of my trademark speed, obviously.” He flashed you a smile with a winking eye. That guy was sure something. What, exactly, you did not know. Caught up in your thought, he took the chance to push you off the roof. Time seemed to stand still as you saw him practically push you to your death, the traitor. You gave him a murdorous look and gave out a very undignified screech as you plummeted to your certain doom. “Spread your wings!” Hawks reminded you, shouting. The ground was coming up at you too fast. You were going to be nothing but a splat on the ground. You curled into a ball, as if a cannonball on concrete. Surprisingly, there was no pain. You slowly lifted your wings’ feathers off your eyes to see what was going on. You were… flying? No, your wings were still curled up. Hawks’ strong arms were carrying you, his wings beating and flying in a way you were sure yours never could. Seeing that you were okay, he flew up higher than the building. “Are you ready to try again?” You nodded, and he dropped you. This time, you knew he would catch you. You took in a few deep breaths, caught in free fall, and let your wings unfurl. At least you were trying instead of chickening out. Sadly, you just kept tumbling, unable to angle your wings like a real bird. As you got closer to the ground, you started panicking, and spread your wings out as far as possible. It slowed your fall, but it was not enough. Hawks soared under you and caught you, not even taking a heavy breath as he simply continued flying, leaving you at the entrance of the building. “You almost had it! Next time, try using those tail feathers for balance. Or perhaps try off a takeoff from the ground a few times before doing that again? I don’t want to scare you again.” The next words out of his mouth sent shivers down your spine as he leaned in close, golden eyes staring at you, his lips ghosting over yours. “...unless you’re into that type of thing?” All too quickly, he had put your feet back down on the ground, and had flown away into the dark sky.

Everyone in the office seemed pretty upset the next day. Apparently, a villain had killed one of your secretaries. Sure, your popularity had dropped, since you could not even keep someone that worked in the same building as you safe, but things happen. Thankfully, everyone forgot about her and got over it.

Hawks invited you over to his house. It was so out of the blue, you had almost declined, but you could not say no to the chance to be with him. He did not name a specific occasion, nor did he say it was for a date. Now you stood next to your closet, trying to figure out what was appropriate to wear. You decided to wear your favorite outfit, hoping it would be okay.

When you got to his house, you realized how rich the man was. It was ginormous. Being the second most popular hero has its perks. You, on the other hand, had no clue how much you had since most of it went directly to savings. Perhaps you should check it out. You pressed the button on the large black iron gate, hoping it was a doorbell of sorts. The spiked on the top of the gate seemed intimidating, and there were many security cameras. The gates swung inwards quickly with a snap. You walked in, and Hawks greeted you with an open door. The inside of his house was quite odd. He looked up to what you were staring at. “This used to be an old firehouse, before I renovated it. As you can see, I took out the fire pole.” You saw what he meant. When you stood under it, you saw that the hole still went up through all five floors of his house, with each floor being about fifteen feet high. “How do you get up to the other floors?” You asked, feeling dumb as soon as the words were out of your mouth. He looked at you as if you might be stupid too. “I fly. And the only other person that I bring here sometimes; her name’s Mirko, can jump that high.” Wow. What type of quirk could make someone jump that high? Too bad that you could not fly like that. The two of you ‘hung out’ as Hawks would have put it, not really doing anything but staying on the bottom floor and talking. The next week, he had invited you again. You noticed that he had just put in an elevator. How rich could he be to put in an elevator in a week? When you asked him about it, he mumbled snippets of answers, like “Well I would have needed to get one eventually.” That day he let you explore his big house. He even had a pool on the roof. That seemed a bit structurally iffy, but it seemed to work. He even let you see his bedroom.

You had stalked Hawks for about a month now, and you were ready to go on with your plan. You knew you were insanely in love with him, but it could not be helped. You needed him, but you did not have the courage to tell him that you liked him. What if that ruined your friendship? No. Instead, you had come up with a better way to see him. You knew that it was weird, but you felt the need to do it.

Since you had already been there twice before, you easily avoided the numerous cameras and security measures, keeping your wings tucked in close. You climbed silently up his terrace, feeling like the Romeo to his Juliet, or the prince to his Rapunzel. Sadly, his room was on the fifth floor, and the trellis only reached the third floor. You would have to fly from here, and carefully.

You had secretly trained your wings since Hawks had helped you realize that perhaps they were for something better than just being pretty. You were only able to go short distances, built you could fly. Doing a straight line upwards would still be too hard. You started having doubts about how well your plan was going to work. You decided to fly in a diagonal pattern up to the floor, hoping that it would work. You beat your wings hard to get the momentum to propel yourself upwards. There was no wind to help you either.

You land silently on his balcony, wings spread wide to balance. You pick the lock easily, and you hope the hinge does not squeal. You shut the door slowly, and sigh in relief. The hard part was over. You turned to see Hawks. His feathers practically shone in the moonlight, his breaths light and quick. He never awoke once. When you realized what a heavy sleeper he was, you returned a few times.

One night, you took your normal position kneeling next to his bed, and realized something. To your delight, he was not wearing any clothes. Your hungry eyes roved over his naked body, studying the way his muscles moved as he breathed. Since he had never awoken before, touching him could not do anything, right? You gently placed your hand on his beautiful chest, and slowly trailed it down to his abs, your hand landing slightly on his v-line. Would you dare peek? Your curiosity got the better of you, and you looked down. Oh. He must be having a wet dream, because on the top of his length there was a wet pool of moisture. Surprisingly, the handsome guy never brought any pretty girls home, so you would have to help him out. You were more than happy to do just that, reaching down and squeezing him. From then on, almost every other night you ‘help him out’, sometimes even letting him inside of you.

Sadly, this took a toll on your body. During the day, you were tired, unable to concentrate well. If it pleased him, why would a little sleeplessness matter, you told yourself. Every day after you had slept with him your eyelids would fall in the middle of the workday, no matter what you were doing. Frequently, you found your assistant shaking you awake to deal with a villain. Your trips to his house were much less frequent.

“Hey, Y/N. We need to talk.” Hawks said. He laced his fingers together, as if gathering his thoughts, wondering what to say. “What’s disturbing you?” You said in your sweetest voice. He ruffled his hair. “It’s just that… you seem tired and unfocused lately. I can try and help. I’m here for you, you know.” You nodded. “Thanks, but it appears something is bothering you, not me. Out with it, Hawks.” He seemed hesitant. When was he ever hesitant? When you gave him a small smile, he cracked. “Well, I suppose it is a bit weird to talk about around another person, but for some reason, I feel better this month than I ever have. I’ve been having this dream that this angel of the night comes into my room and… well…” he struggled for words. “...sleeps in my bed. I’ve been having this dream for awhile. It’s was just so realistic. I didn’t even long for my ex anymore, they felt so real. Nothing like that could happen in real life, right? I mean, all my security and stuff, not to mention I sleep on the top floor. It used to happen almost every night, and after the dream was done, I would wake up feeling better than I ever had. But now, it’s gone, and the night is dreamless.” He flopped down onto his swivel chair.

Not wanting him to get suspicious, but happy he confided in you, you say, “Well, with all the security you have, I’m sure, there is no way that anyone could possibly get into your bedroom without you knowing, sir.” He nods and dismisses you. At least you knew that he enjoyed what you did. Once you had gotten well rested, you went back over to his house for another night of ‘fun’. As you get on top of him, he moans. “Songbird please.” You freeze, but realize that he is still asleep, his breath even. He never said that before. How cute. You continue to pleasure him, unaware of the black orb camera hidden in the corner that has been watching you every time you came into his room or left.

With an ending like that, I’m thinking of making a part two. Let me know in the comments!

Part 2: https://holdmyowos.tumblr.com/post/649615062271688704/escape-hawks-x-reader

#Hawks #bnha #bnha x reader #bnhaxreader #hawks bnha #hawks x reader

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loser-writings · 5 years ago

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Dating them in secret

Denki Kaminari

It originally started because neither of you were able to get dates for the school dance. Since you both got busy through the day, you decided to just sneak in each others dorms to make plans. It ended up with the both of you realizing how much fun the thrill of sneaking under everyones’ noses.

He didn’t realize how much he adored you til you both were swaying from side to side during a slow dance. He watched as you looked down at your feet, making sure not to step on him. He found himself grinning a little when you stumbled, his grip on your hip tightening as he pulled you closer, before he continued to sway.

You had felt uncomfortable being openly affectionate with him and revealing your relationship, so Denki asked if it would be okay to take you on dates without revealing everything. He was happy when you said yes and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

When you were in class, Denki wouldn’t do anything that could lead others to finding out about your secret relationship. He might lean on you or grab your hand, but it wasn’t that noteworthy since he did the same to everyone else.

Dates often happened at night when you slipped into his room to watch movies together or simple study dates since he struggled with tests. He would pull you into his arms or in his lap while you explained how you found the answer. Most of the time he would be listening, but he does find himself zoning off while playing with your fingertips.

Dates that weren’t at the dorms ended up with you going to watch the latest “Bad” movie (Like you both watched the Emoji movie and Cats just to see people question your sanity) or going out with Bakusquad. He knew that none of them would make a move or question why he clung to you with the exception of Bakugo making a snarky comment when you fall behind

If he started to get worked up about a test, you’d simply hug him and play with his hair until he relaxes. He loves when you play with it and it never fails to calm him down. He reveals that its because his parents would run their fingers through their hair when he was a kid to help him sleep.

You were both very aware of your classmates shipping you and suggesting you should go on a date with him, but neither of you reveal your secret. Sneaking under everybody's noses brought a thrill that you weren't willing to give up yet.

Eijiro Kirishima

Kirishima may not be the best at keeping secrets, but you both had decided to date in private because of the drama happening with the League of Villains. He was just paranoid that they would find out about your relationship and would try to use you to get to him. So many people, including yourself, were afraid of their growing power. So you agreed to keeping the relationship private

He wasn’t a big fan of staying in on your days off, so he would often get you outside and take you on “Friend” dates. Going to the park or garden, finding some new cafes to try, and going on picnics were his favorite things to do.

Expect many random gifts from him to just appear in your room. Things like flowers, new clothes or hoodies, or video games that just “Made me think of you.” He never expects anything in return and is truly touched every time he gets something from you.

Will often play random video games with you. Since they’re all online, he gets you a nice headset and sets everything up so you can play with him. Building large structures in Minecraft to killing zombies in call of duty. Your video game dates sometimes get invaded by the Bakusquad, but they always make you happy.

He sometimes sneaks into your bedroom for late at night snuggles since holding you always calms him down. He loves when you rake your hands through his hair or when you hold his hands. His favorite part of it is when you mumble small things you love about him.

Enji Todoroki

Dating in secret wouldn’t be that hard with Enji due to his extreme protectiveness and connections that keep you out of the media and spotlight. Out of everybody, he the one who has the strongest connections and abilities to keep you away.

Dates between the two of you are always at his house or at yours. He will rather pick you up or meet you at your place so you don’t have to be “In danger.” Things like cooking dinner together or going out in his garden were the normal dates. Occasionally he may let you in public with him, but it’s extremely rare for that to happen.

Getting used to him having to randomly leave in the middle of the night because someone or something fucked up. He is the number one hero now, so that means really odd hours. Sadly. crime doesn’t sleep even if you need to.

May be rough around the edges but he kind of tries this time? Yeah, he actually has feelings for you and never raised a hand to you, but he is quite controlling.

His kids don’t know you and Enji wants to keep it that way. He’s not a big fan of having you meet them because He is a bit worried that they will be upset at him for moving on from Rei. Not only that, he was afraid that they would abandon him after finding out about his second life.

May not be the most vocal about his affections, but he definitely will express his gratefulness for you with little things. Small gifts left for you, an occasional meal cooked for you, and god someone stop him from buying you clothes. He loves spoiling you.

He never really comes out about his relationship with you, but people do notice the ring that had suddenly appeared on his finger after he decided to get married to you.

Hizashi Yamada

This man is the exact opposite of private. He loves to be open about everything and he would flaunt you like none other. If he could, that is.

You both had actually agreed to stay a secret for a variety of reasons, the main one being that he was not only a pro-hero, but he was famous too. Being famous comes with the fair share of crazy fans, and he didn’t want to put you in harms way. You suggested staying a secret and he agreed.

Dates are surprisingly mellow since Mic isn’t as loud as usual when he’s in private. He likes to relax and cuddle, watching a movie or working with you to make new playlists for his radio show.

Don’t expect him to cook. Seriously, He is good at many things and has quite a few talents, but cooking is not one of them. No matter how many Gordon Ramsay shows he watches, he will never be able to cook. He will still try though, even if it ends up with food that's so burnt, you aren’t that sure what it was in the first place.

When he’s working late at the station, he will text you in between songs, even dedicating a couple to you. He always ends the night by playing your favorite song to let you know that he will be heading home soon.

His favorite thing is when you play with his hair. He will be complete putty in your hands if you brush his hair while he’s working or if you braid it. Another thing that makes him relax is when you massage his shoulders. He’s actually kind of anxious at times, so baby him to help him relax.

He hardly ever sleeps. He has so much energy that he constantly is doing something. Between his 3 jobs, he always has something to do. Grading papers til 10 pm, then working on the script for the mornings show til 1am, then doing a little research about new villains. You have to drag him to bed most nights and lay on top of him to make sure he doesn't leave the second the sun begins to rise.

Izuku Midoriya

Izuku doesn’t mind being in a private relationship with you in the slightest. In public, many just believe there is some mutual crushing going on, but many don’t think you’re actually dating.

Toshinori would know, but that's after you agreed to let Izuku tell him. Secrets were something Izuku didn’t want to have when it came to you, All Might, and his mother. You thought that was only fair.

His mom would ask that you keep Izukus’ bedroom door open. Even though she trusts you and Izuku, she is still a mother who has to keep her baby safe.

Your dates at the dorms were usually study dates or workout dates since they were the easiest to get away with. You did manage to sneak in his room a few times for late night cuddle sessions.

Izuku is shy when it comes to your relationship but it doesn’t stop him from doing things like leaning on you in public or holding your hand. He is a little affectionate and he always has enjoyed a little skinship with you, even before you both got together.

He pays attention to you. He has every order of yours written down so he can randomly buy you your favorite foods. He remembers the hoodie of his that you like the most. He will get tickets for the new movie you said you were interested in. He will spoil you.

Katsuki Bakugo

You were surprised when Katsuki told you that he wanted to keep your relationship a secret, but it made more sense after he explained his fear of the League of Villains getting to you. He was captured by them, so why wouldn’t they go to you to get to him?

Dates actually happened quite often with Katsuki. He would often sneak into your room before curfew to eat dinner with you and would lay on top of you to cuddle after. He was quite clingy and would find himself letting his guard down with you.

Deep conversations would randomly happen as you played with his blond hair, the smell of sugar or caramel filling the room the longer the boy would stay. He would open up about his frustrations about Deku as well as his fear about the League of Villains. He hated that they targeted him and genuinely believed that he would turn on 1A. He grew insecure and afraid that he would become a villain, but you just had to reassure him that wouldn’t be the case.

He always left a hoodie for you to wear since you seemed to enjoy the smell, but no one ever dared to mention it when he was around. You did explain to most that it was just a friend thing and that you liked how warm they seemed to be.

You did go to his parents’ house with him one day and she seemed to instantly enjoy you. She was glad somebody managed to “Tame” her chaotic son. Bakugo was a blushing mess, but he was really glad deep down that you got his parents approval.

You’ve learned to put up with Katsukis glares and harsh attitude at times. You know that he didn’t mean it half of the time. You could see it. Even if his tone was the same, he had a different look in his eyes when he was with you. It could even be considered soft and loving.

Tenya Iida

It was mutually agreed upon to keep your relationship a secret. Tenya openly admitted that he was going to focus mainly on his studies and being a hero, but he also encouraged you to do the same. Your feelings for each other were recognized by each other, but were not your priority. Hell, Iida said that if you were willing to be patient with him, he would take you on a proper date.

Your dates consisted of studying together and doing little tasks together. You would do things like cook dinner together or go out to get groceries. You never really had a proper date with the exception of the one time he asked you out to lunch at the new cafe that had just opened.

Your grades managed to stay extremely high due to the standards Iida kept you to, but he also understood that you needed a break. Even though affection was something he struggled with, he would have you lean on him for little breaks. He would hold your hand, kiss your head, and he managed to even let you on his lap.

If you fall asleep in his arms while studying, he will carry you to your bedroom and rest you on your bed, giving you a kiss on the head before leaving your room. He might even leave a blanket over you or leave his jacket on you.

As time goes on, even though he’s focusing on school, He does manage to find some time to give you gifts and hang out with you. Your favorite gift of them all? A promise ring that you wear around your neck. He has one too and he promises that after he becomes a hero, he will marry you.

By the time you both graduate from UA, people are surprised by how well you’ve hidden your relationship, yet are extremely happy for you both.

Shota Aizawa

You had known Shota for years and were there for him since he graduated UA. He never revealed how he felt though. He had started liking you after you offered to have him move in with you. He agreed for the financial side of it, but he didn’t realize how easy the both of you slipped into a more domestic lifestyle.

For a good couple of years, neither of you really labeled your relationship. Sure, Kisses happened as did cuddles. Maybe things got heated a few times, but you didn’t think it was anything more than that.

He never directly said his feelings for you til he ended up leaving some papers at your house. You decided to bring them to UA for him and were surprised when you ran into Hizashi. As you both talked and caught up, You felt an arm wrap around you. Aizawa hummed and looked at the papers before thanking you and pecking your cheek. You just smiled at the raven haired man before Hizashi asked why his papers were at your house.

“We live together and they’re my significant other. Don’t tell anybody else though or else I will destroy your speaker.” He threatened and Hizashi just nodded, not really that phased by his friends stern tone.

Dates were always simple. Simple shopping dates, dinner together, movie nights, and calls when he was away. He had a difficult time sleeping if you weren’t there to help him, so he always ended up falling asleep on a call with you.

Gifts were another thing he loved to do. Promise rings that were connected to chains that hung around your necks, sweaters that matched for Christmas, and random flowers delivered to your job, they were all little things that managed to make your love for him grow.

#mha scenarios #bnha oneshots #endeavor x reader #aizawa x reader #bakugo x reader #izuku x reader #deku x reader #kirishima x reader

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miraculouscontent · 5 years ago

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I just saw Felix, I am enraged beyond belief, and right now, I want someone to tear this episode and Astruc a new one. And who better than the Salt Fairy?

s-sALT FAIRY?? JDNGKFDG

WELL, WHO AM I TO DENY SUCH A REQUEST?

[Vanilla Graham Crackers]

So, I totally understand the idea that making new models is hard and it’s best to cut corners where one can, but that should only be done if it can be used in a way that doesn’t - you know - reuse two important character models and add almost nothing new to them.

To start off, you have Amelie, Emilie’s twin sister who they obviously reused Emilie’s model for.

Then you have Felix, whose mother’s genes must’ve kicked the tar out of his father’s genes (and the same must’ve happened to Adrien unless Gabriel’s model is reused for Felix’s father’s too if we ever get a flashback/picture but we’re not getting into that) considering that Felix looks like Adrien’s twin rather than Adrien’s cousin (if they pull some sort of thing about Felix actually being Adrien’s twin just as some sort of cheap “gotcha,” I swear–though I doubt it because Amelie has a line about them looking “just like twins” which would be strange for someone who would’ve already known they were twins unless she doesn’t know that they’re twins either because some weird things happened and–I’m getting off-topic…).

Already, these are both new characters who are being introduced in this episode that are edited versions of previous models we’ve seen on the show.

The thing is that I don’t care much if the models are reused, but they should at least have facial structures that look different enough to make them their own characters. At least reverse Amelie’s hair, gosh darn it.

Even Felix, like–I don’t even think any of the characters would find it odd if the “Adrien” in the video had different cheekbones or a different jawline. Felix could even have blue eyes but edit the video to make his eyes green (and then make an excuse as to why his eyes are blue when the villains show up). The Adrien model could be reused but still adjusted so he at least has a different freaking eye style, since those are usually the big thing that gives away the feeling of, “oh, the model is just reused.”

I mean, it makes sense for Felix’s name to be in the title of the episode, but that’s only because he actually got different hair and a different outfit, since even the people who get akumatized in this episode are reused.

Lady Wifi, who’s been seen multiple times in Season 1 and 3 now.

Princess Fragrance, who’s been used the least out of everyone else but has still been seen multiple times (counting scarlet edition Princess Fragrance).

And Reflekta, who’s been used multiple times even if you’re only counting Season 3. Reflekta even makes the least sense out of all the characters since she’s a bad combination with the others. Dark Cupid would’ve even been a better pick since Lady Wifi could freeze someone and then either Dark Cupid could get a clear shot or Princess Fragrance could force them to inhale her perfume.

They don’t even have a proper unique theme to them, like a design that they all share to show that they’re a team. It’s just a repeat of their past akuma forms except Lady Wifi doesn’t have to worry about being defeated in the same way as before I guess (not that they try it anyway)? I don’t question Alya being the only one to get an upgrade because the tablet is hers, but when we’ve already had an episode where a tablet was used as a “hey akuma, aim here” object, and the people who held it combined in that one because they had a shared goal, only to have this one be different and just turn them into separate forms?

Yeaaaah, no, that’s weird. That’s just weird. It’d be one thing if they were sure that there were two Adrien around and they needed to be separated so they could cover multiple people, but they’re not aware that Felix is around nor that he disguised himself as Adrien, requiring them to cover multiple grounds (and even then, that doesn’t need three of them).

I’ll say again that I don’t mind repeat akuma, but it has to make sense. Stormy Weather 2 and Gamer 2.0 made sense to come back even though I didn’t like their episodes or the messages behind them, but Reflektdoll and the Trio of Punishers here?

No, just–no.

(this is also once again keeping the “girl squad” quota in place which everyone knows I dislike; I just want the boys to be more involved sometimes and not have anyone’s involvement be based on what gender they are)

(also also, Ladybug defeating all of them in a few seconds demonstrates how incompetent they are as a team; defeating Nathalie is not a high bar for efficient villainry)

So, already with that, the episode is bland and doesn’t provide anything interesting; even Felix disguises himself as Adrien perfectly later on, so the model that was edited in any sort of significant way changes back to its oRinGaL fOrM partway through the episode just for the like, two viewers who couldn’t tell that he’s a duplicate of Adrien structurally.

Heck, and even once Felix does disguise himself as Adrien, he’s still making very “Adrien” faces. The camera switching from Adrien to Felix (disguised as Adrien) when the villains show up is a perfect example.

Same face, same pose. It’s like they’re the same person at times (and no, I don’t believe that Felix is that good of an actor when he just got jumped by three teenage girls in outlandish clothing who came out of the phone in his hands).

There’s also the plot with Gabriel and the twin rings. Firstly, the opening is basically the one from “Chat Blanc” with the ring detail added. I remember seeing “Chat Blanc” and then being weirded out when “Felix” hit like, “Wait, is this–?”

Even disregarding that, there’s a certain awkwardness to Gabriel’s behavior. Of course, we all know that Emilie is actually alive and (un)well, so Gabriel being upset with Adrien isn’t entirely wrong (since, to Gabriel, it sounds like his son is supporting him having an affair), but for Gabriel to lash out in an almost childish manner when we’ve seen Gabriel hold Nathalie/Mayura tenderly and we can see that they have something going on, it seems extremely unprompted and just an excuse for Gabriel to not have to tell Adrien that he’s Hawk Moth.

It also brings up the question as to what changed between Gabriel saying that he already wished that he could tell Adrien what he was doing since Adrien would understand, compared to now where Gabriel is completely okay with telling Adrien.

Everything’s too up in the air, too vague, and nothing hits like it should. The episode throws five shots at its viewers at once (”Amelie and Felix,” “The Twin Rings,” “Gabriel Almost Telling Adrien That He’s Hawk Moth,” “Three People Getting Akumatized at Once,” and “Marinette Successfully Sending a Confession to Adrien”) but none of them strike properly. They’re all fighting for screentime to the point where we don’t even see Alya’s more detailed reaction to “Adrien” rejecting Marinette’s confession (she looks slightly more annoyed than everyone else, I guess) when Alya had made such a big deal about Marinette confessing beforehand (I’ll forgive her just this once for flashing her tablet, unprompted, in Marinette’s anxious face since Alya largely does nothing bad outside of that). The episode tries too hard to be big and impactful but misses the mark because none of the things it’s trying to do can play out in a way that makes it feel like they’re important.

Amelie and Felix don’t have original models.

The twin rings haven’t been brought up in any significant way before.

Gabriel and Nathalie talk about Adrien knowing about the Hawk Moth thing once and then presumably give up with no explanation as to why Gabriel isn’t going to try again since Adrien clearly just misunderstood him.

The three people getting akumatized end up turning into forms we’ve seen before, all of which have been in this season, even if it was sparingly.

Marinette’s confession doesn’t even get misinterpreted by Adrien; it’s viewed by Felix and promptly deleted.

Oh yeah, and then there’s THAT scene…

[Consententious]

Alright, so I can’t really talk about this scene without talking about the supposed reason for why this episode exists.

For the 0.01% of people who aren’t aware, Felix is the original Adrien from the Miraculous PV, which is what Miraculous Ladybug used to be before it became the show it is now. Astruc has said, time and time again, that he did not like this character and that was why Adrien had replaced him.

The fandom clung to Felix, however. People were still interested in the “what-ifs” and “what could’ve been”s, especially as situations rose in-show where people felt like Felix would’ve reacted in a way that was different/better than how Adrien would have reacted.

Astruc was the one most known for disliking Felix, but another thing he was known for was lying to people in order to keep future things in the show a secret.

You know that scene in “Kwamibuster,” where Tikki keeps something from Marinette, and when she then tries to explain something else to Marinette, Marinette points out, “You see, the problem now is that I’m always going to wonder if you’re lying or not”?

Yeah, that’s basically the fandom with Astruc. Whether Astruc’s behavior was justified or not, it’s harder to believe what he says when he openly admitted to lying to everyone.

This brings us back to Felix. In terms of what Astruc has told us on him, it’s been inconsistent, to say the least.

He claimed that Adrien was created because Felix wasn’t an interesting character, then said that Felix was interesting even though he wasn’t fit to be a hero despite later claims of Felix being a weak character who was more of an anime cliche, which was then further uprooted by outright stating that Felix was bad/evil.

Essentially, regardless of what has been said about this episode’s existence, this entire episode feels like a response to the side of the fandom that firmly believes that Felix would have been better than Adrien, and that looks bad because such episodes tend to never go over well with the fandom.

- Felix is shown as cold and unfeeling whereas Adrien is understanding if a bit solemn.

- Felix and Adrien are compared directly by both having a dead parent who died recently.

- Felix reacts negatively to Adrien’s behavior whereas Adrien tries to excuse Felix’s actions and be a good person.

- Plagg (who Felix would’ve had in the PV) is given a MUCH bigger input on things than he usually is, even to the point of comparing Felix and Adrien directly. The episode also has Felix ruining a piece of cheese in Plagg’s stash, whereas Plagg is typically not directly affected by the actions of other characters.

- Felix’s actions of rooting through Adrien’s things may or may not be a comparison to Lila (another character that Astruc doesn’t like) from “Oni-chan,” who riffled through Adrien’s things while Adrien was distracted. This is further supported by Plagg calling out both of these to Adrien and Adrien excusing both of them.

- Felix literally disguising himself as Adrien and Marinette not only noticing the facade straight away, but proclaiming angrily that Felix!Adrien is “not Adrien.”

- Felix implied to even be emotionally weaker than Adrien by his face at Chat’s comment about him not having many friends, his face in response to Marinette’s confession, and Adrien asking him to call if he needs support.

And then, we have the big scene where Felix (disguised as Adrien) tries to force a kiss on Ladybug, in which there’s a clear “no means no” message followed by a punch to Felix’s face.

Now… first off, yes, this is obviously yet another jab at the comparison between Felix and Chat. Felix tried to force a kiss on Ladybug whereas Chat has–

…well, he’s never gotten one off, at least, and stops when something happens (either Ladybug gets pulled back into the fight or she stops him with a hand/her words).

This is also shown by how Ladybug states post-punch that “Adrien would never be so pushy,” immediately followed by Chat Noir showing up and insulting Felix.

…Yeah, I’ll tackle the message first.

While this idea of “no means no” is nice and all, it ignores the nuance of what actually means “yes.” The forced kiss still would have been wrong if it’d been towards someone like Juleka, who would’ve locked up at the sight of someone trying to force themself on her, or someone like Rose, who may’ve been completely oblivious as to what the forcer would’ve been doing until it was too late. It might seem like a small thing, but just saying “what part of ‘no’ did you not understand?” leaves the obvious loophole of “WELL, if they DON’T say ‘no’ then that makes it okay.”

As for Chat, well… the setup not only didn’t make sense as a comparison to him, but it doesn’t function as a comparison in the episode itself.

See, the setup is wrong because Felix is not doing this because he’s a creep. He’s not someone who’s crushing on Ladybug and disguised himself as Adrien in hopes that she would favor him and let him kiss her.

In fact, Felix is fully aware that kissing someone without their consent is wrong; the reason he’s doing it is to ruin Adrien’s reputation.

Would Felix actually do that if he were lusting over Ladybug or crushing on a girl legitimately? We don’t know, and that’s exactly why Felix and Chat’s actions are not comparable.

This isn’t a case of, “Character B and C are attracted to Character A. Character C stops when told/prompted to stop whereas Character B continues despite those things.” Chat and Felix have entirely different motives when trying to kiss Ladybug.

Chat leans in for a kiss multiple times and is stopped by either Ladybug or whatever’s happening around them. Even if he stops when told/prompted to, he starts back up, whether it’s later in the episode or in a later episode beyond it.

Felix’s actions are wrong and I will not deny that, nor will I compare him directly to Chat and say that one is worse than the other.

I will just say: Felix is aware that he’s doing something scummy and is doing so to make someone he dislikes look bad. Chat may be aware that he can’t proceed with a kiss if Ladybug denies it or prompts him to back off, but he still tries over and over to flirt and/or lean in for a kiss in hopes that she’ll return it eventually. Whatever form of “no” Ladybug gives him (as it can come in many forms), Chat still believes that trying again later is perfectly fine and that asking is not necessary no matter how many times she’s denied him or rejected his feelings.

As for why the setup doesn’t function, it’s because we, in this episode, do not have a direct comparison between Felix’s advances and Chat’s. Chat isn’t given the screentime to properly flirt with Ladybug or try to make any sort of advance on her, so there’s no “that was Felix, this is Chat,” moment.

Is that because the writers were aware that Chat’s behavior is still not up to speed with how people should act in reality? Maybe, maybe not, but the point is that they didn’t have it.

Now, that said, there indeed was a character in the episode who made it very clear (both through his body language and through his words) that he respected the actions, space, and choices of the one he was in love with.

But, who was that again…?

O O P S

Like, look, I’m not getting into Luka’s role in the episode (though I’ll just say that, while I adore the boy, this wasn’t the episode for him and - had I not needed to go into other subjects - I definitely would be rambling about the disservice both he and Marinette get in general), but I’m just pointing out the very obvious misstep taken. If this episode was a response to the fandom, I guess one could argue that this is knocking any idea of Felix being Marinette’s other love interest instead of Luka, but when people think of “someone trying to kiss Marinette/Ladybug,” Luka is not going to be the first one who comes to mind; that’s gonna be Chat and the writing dropped the ball entirely because it couldn’t pull it off without having to address his behavior or risk sending an, “only no means no,” message.

Oh, and speaking of dropping the ball, even Felix doesn’t get dropped entirely, because the writing didn’t even do Felix dirty CORRECTLY.

[Failing Felix]

Just for a moment, let’s roll (completely roll, this time) with the idea that this entire episode is a response to the side of the fandom who really liked Felix and preferred him over Adrien.

By that logic, the standard thing to do would be to make Felix as evil and possible and make everyone hate him, yes?

However, that “standard thing” is completely missing from this plot.

Felix, by the end of the episode, already has two motives.

The first is stated outright by the end, though could also be inferred early on as well: Felix wanted to get the twin rings back for his mother. In addition, it is not for his own selfish gain, as he isn’t even aware that his mother wanted to get the rings back so she could give them to him.

Felix wanted to get the twin rings back because his mother had told him that they were part of their family, not Gabriel’s, and Felix sought to retrieve them himself.

The second motive is for his actions outside of Gabriel, which is him judging Adrien and trying to ruin Adrien’s reputation.

Even Felix’s bitterness towards Adrien is showcased, though in small doses.

When Adrien apologizes to Felix for not going to his father’s funeral, Felix retorts with,

“You always do everything your father tells you to do?”

Right there is Felix’s problem with Adrien: he views Adrien as a doormat (a common fan complaint anyway tbh). This is not helped when Adrien excuses his father’s actions with a smile (which may come off as insensitive; Adrien, be UPSET by your father, not sheepishly smiling about what he did) by saying that his father is “very protective.”

Felix only initiates his stealing of Adrien’s things after this scene takes place; immediately after this takes place, as a matter of fact.

The other key interaction that takes place is when Felix enters the mansion. He reaches out for a handshake, but Adrien goes in for a hug.

Adrien doesn’t know that a hand reaching out in a handshake gesture isn’t consent.

Already, Adrien has come off as touchy, unable to read Felix’s gestures, and possibly insensitive.

Further on are Felix’s comments on the things he finds in Adrien’s phone:

Adrien’s obvious crush on Ladybug - Felix sees it as idiotic which… yeah, it would look like a childish celebrity crush without context

Nino’s video - 90% sure the reaction there was the “teenage” version of how Gabriel judged Nino in “Bubbler;” pretty standard rich boy judgment

Rose’s video - …I’m sorry, I can’t blame Felix for that one; that was so overly gushy and cheerful that I winced

Max’s video - Felix doesn’t seem like the type to like jokes and he also thinks that whole thing is weird (also not knowing that Markov is “real”); could go either or on how out-of-place his comment was.

Chloe’s video - Felix doesn’t like Chloe and I can’t blame him for that one either.

Marinette’s video - Felix has a different reaction to this one and I imagine he either thinks that Adrien is dating Marinette (and could think it’s pathetic for a variety of reasons from “Adrien is already crushing on Ladybug” or “the doormat boy has a girlfriend”) or thinks that Marinette confessing over video is pathetic

Even when Felix goes against Ladybug and Chat, he’s probably realized at that point that impulsively impersonating Adrien won’t get him anywhere close to sleight-of-handing Gabriel’s ring away. Also, Ladybug punched him (regardless of her reason why) and Chat insulted him despite only knowing things about him from what he heard from someone else.

None of this excuses any of Felix’s actions, but it is a reason that is introduced within the episode where said actions take place.

Unlike, say, Chloe, whose mother was shown off in the season after Chloe herself first appeared, giving us no context, reason, or motive for her behavior outside of “she’s a spoiled brat.”

Felix also did manage to come up with a convincing enough apology to get Gabriel to shake his hand, allowing Felix to safely snatch one of the twin rings away to return to his mother.

I don’t think anyone is complaining about Gabriel getting screwed over after “Chat Blanc,” just saying.

Even athletically, Felix scores a one-handed point in basketball with his back turned to the hoop, and he can go toe-to-toe with three akuma at once.

He even has a hobby in doing magic tricks, said hobby allowing him to steal Gabriel’s twin ring. Characters having hobbies is an important thing for fleshing them out, and Felix weirdly just… has one, and one that benefits him.

So, is Felix’s presence in the show an insult due to having a repeated character model and being used as a forced comparison to Adrien? Yes.

Does that mean he’s not workable in any form and can’t be used for the fandom’s desires?

Not really, no. At least, I certainly don’t think so.

The reality is that Felix was never a warm person, PV or otherwise, and his initial reaction to Adrien (”I don’t like you. You hugged me without my asking you and you let your father walk all over you.”) is honestly something I’d expect of him.

It’s when combined with the already terrible ideas of the episode and the convoluted nature of things that everything (including him) turns into a problem.

#category: salt #category: crtique #episode: Felix #category: long post #word count: over 3000 #other: ask and answer #((I'm with Punch on this one.))#((The episode itself is bad but Felix isn't as bad as he could've been.))

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a-vintage-snake · 4 years ago

Text

8. Oh, I’ll Fall In Love With You

Pairing(s): Pre-romantic Dukeceit

First chapter - Previous chapter - Next chapter

Warnings: Child abuse, dirty humor, basically Remus is Very Thirsty™ for that Snake Booty Characters: Janus “Deceit” Sanders, Remus Sanders,

Summary: Deceit makes an offer to Remus he can’t refuse

Word Count: 10601

Author’s Note: Guess who’s baaaaack? This chapter is dedicated to Lumi, Rose, Alec and all the other wonderful people in the Shatter discord server who encouraged me to keep going, even when I struggled so hard with this chapter that I wanted to throw my laptop out of the window. Also, on AO3 I have actually edited and updated all the previous chapters! Worked out the mistakes, added some stuff and deleted some unnecessary things. I will update the chapters here on Tumblr too, but in a few days (I wanna SLEEP man). If you ever wanted to reread this whole beast, now is your best chance!

Taglist: @avocados26, @fandoms-will-collide @nottoonormalme, @bihighandgivinghighfives, @atticusfinchthelegend, @hekking-happy-nonsense, @lockmcduckwoodchuck

If you want to be removed or added to the taglist, just ask!

Read on AO3

The warlock led him through winding halls, which were slowly brightened by the rising sun outside. Remus knew that he had to pay attention, try to remember some of the routes through this maze-like structure. He however couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away once more from the back of Deceit’s head, although this time it wasn’t just because of those exquisite curls.

Were all evil warlocks like this? Or did this guy just not read the guide on Villainous Wizardry 101?

It was only when Deceit threw open a couple of double doors that Remus finally mentally slapped himself and remembered to look around. One snap of the warlock’s fingers and the dark room erupted into light, candles on the wall flaming up along with a fire starting in an ornately decorated fireplace at the end of the hall. The room that they had just entered appeared to be a grand dining hall. The flames illuminated the massive dining table that took up the room, which had to be at least twice the size of the one Remus knew from back home. Yet the table was caked in dust, years of untouched grime making the warm wood almost grey in appearance. The many chairs surrounding it were in no better condition.

Another bored wave of the warlock’s hand and curtains were drawn, allowing light to stream in through tall windows. Remus rapidly blinked at the sudden brightness, slowing to a halt as took in the stunning view of the mountains and valleys that greeted him beyond the windows. Morning fog was pulled like a blanket over the land below, but if Remus squinted he could still make out the white towers of his family castle in the distance, peaking up from the mist like needles from a pincushion. It was almost impossible to believe that just a few days ago he was still there. Would anyone have started missing him by now?

…Eh. Probably not.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying the view,” The warlock’s voice echoed across the hall. “I assure you, it’s just as lovely from this side of the room.”

Startled from his thoughts, Remus hurried over to the end of the dining hall, where he saw that one small part of the table was dust free. On that clean part a modest array of plates were arranged, filled with seasonal fruits, bread and dried fish. There was one one carafe filled with clear water and one with a dark red liquid, which he guessed to likely be wine. Simple food, but nevertheless Remus’ stomach made an embarrassingly loud rumble that nearly echoed in the quiet air. The small dinner in his room seemed ages ago. The warlock chuckled.

“It appears that I got you here just in time,” He said amusedly as he poured two glasses of water. “Have a seat.”

Hesitantly Remus sat down in one of the two chairs that seemed just as clean as the table part. It placed him at Deceit’s left hand, while the warlock sat closest to the fireplace. Looking over the food again Remus ignored his vague disappointment that the warlock didn’t feast on his enemies’ hearts and the blood of virgins or something along that line. Well, he supposed it was only breakfast. Maybe the human meat was reserved for dinner only.

While pondering if perhaps the warlock would put him on the menu and try to strap him to the table to feast on his organs (which was a strangely hot mental image) Remus reached for the glass of water that was placed in front of him-

A sharp ache shot through his wrist and Remus drew his hand back with a pained hiss. He had nearly forgotten about his little injury, but he figured it would be hard to ignore now. His wrist thrummed miserably, thickened with dark blue bruises. Before he could discretely hide the offending arm under the table the warlock looked his way.

“…You are hurt.” Deceit frowned as he spotted his wrist.

“It’s nothing!” Remus said quickly. “I barely feel it, I didn’t lie about-!”

Slender hands grasped his wrist, and Remus’ mouth slapped shut with an audible click. Deceit didn’t react to his sudden silence, only pulled his hand closer. Remus’ throat went bone dry. He didn’t dare to move an inch as the warlock delicately examined his wrist, gentle fingers feeling and pressing for any injury. Sharp talons moved dangerously close to the vulnerable veins on his wrist, yet not a scratch landed on Remus’ skin. The pressure, however soft it was, still sent painful twinges down his arm. Remus barely registered it. He could only stare, a little dazed, at those elegant long fingers. Iridescent green scales ran down the back of the warlock’s hands, even spreading as far as his fingers. Remus wanted to lean forward and explore every single one of them with his lips and tongue.

Oh yeah, good fucking luck with THAT when just him touching your wrist makes you wanna faint like a damsel in a boring story!

“Move your fingers for me?” Deceit asked, unaware of Remus’ inner turmoil. Remus wiggled his fingers, grimacing at the pain the movement caused. The warlock hummed.

“Just a sprain,” Deceit said. “Nothing I can’t heal easily.”

“Ha,” Remus laughed weakly. “Told ya it was nothing! Very tough-! Me…”

Remus trailed off when the warlock gently folded his hands around his wrist in a light grasp. Remus wasn’t sure he could take much more before his heart would literally explode on him and cover the fancy dinner table with his organs, when the warlock’s eyes started glowing molten gold once more… And he started to sing.

Had Deceit’s speaking voice already turned Remus into a pile of goo, nothing could have prepared him for his singing voice. Remus understood exactly none of the words, but it didn’t matter. Breathlessly he let the song wash over him, barely daring to blink lest the warlock would stop singing in that crooning dark baritone voice, soft yet powerful. Every single note felt like silk against his skin, or a soothing warm drink on an ice-cold day. He scarcely noticed how the veins on Deceit’s hands came alive in that same golden glow as his eyes, enveloping Remus’ wrist in warm light.

I’m dying. This is death and somehow I made it into paradise.

Far too soon for his liking the song came to an end. The glow in Deceit’s eyes and veins vanished and, much to Remus’ disappointment, he released his hold on his wrist.

“How does it feel now?” Deceit asked.

Reluctantly Remus pulled his wrist back, only to stop short when he realized the movement didn’t hurt anymore. The bruises had vanished, not even a hint of blue marring his skin anymore. Gingerly he rolled his wrist, preparing for pain, but none came.

A healing spell, Remus realized as he rubbed his wrist. The song had been a healing spell.

In awe over his magical recovery, Remus looked up into the warlock’s calm mismatched eyes. Right. Now was the time to for a charming answer, a sincere thank you that would certainly sweep him off his feet-

“Fuck me.” Remus breathlessly said.

Deceit blinked, baffled. “I beg your pardon?” He sharply asked.

Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit!! That was NOT the right thing! Quick, thinkthinkthink, fix this, FIX THIS-!!

“I mean FUCK ME, how did you do that?!” Remus yelped.

Nailed it.

Deceit gave him an odd look. “You would say this is nothing new to you,” He said as he gracefully sat down in his own chair. “Healing is one of the most common magic practices out there. Especially amongst nobility, I would say.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve never been much to a healer! So no, not really used to it!” Remus readily jumped on that little bit of truth. His parents had always believed that sending him to a healer for every injury he had would just make him soft. So his body had always repaired itself the old fashioned way, no matter how seriously hurt he was. Even when Roman was healed for every little bruise that appeared on his disgustingly perfect skin.

“Is that so…” Deceit hummed quietly, more to himself than to Remus. Before he had a chance to decipher the thoughtful tone the warlock smiled, instantly sweeping any rational thought Remus might have had under the rug.

“Well, let’s not stare at this wonderfully set table, shall we? Please,” Deceit waved an inviting gesture towards the food. “Help yourself.”

His stomach rumbled again, so Remus gladly took that invitation, sweeping his eyes over the stalled out food.

This is an opportunity to impress him! You have survived all those boring-ass etiquette for a reason! Show him you’re sophisticated as balls!

He made an excellent point to himself. So Remus picked up the chic silverware, filled his plate with bread, fish and some fruits and ate.

The breakfast was a silent affair, but Remus was used to that. The warlock didn’t touch the food, merely nipped from his water as Remus ate with all the enthusiastic energy of someone who hadn’t brought enough rations on his impromptu quest, filling up his plate again and again. Fuck, he hadn’t realized just how hungry he was. He struck down the instinct to throw his knife and fork aside to unashamedly gorge himself on the food. If it had been Roman with him he would have done that in a heartbeat. In the very rare occasion that both their parents couldn’t attend dinner he had delighted in disgusting his brother by eating everything with his hands. Including soup, that one memorable time. Yes, the soup had been uncomfortably hot, but the grossed out look on Roman’s face had made it all worth it.

Hungrily zooming in on the last slice of dark bread, Remus reached to grab it.

“Wait!”

Remus’ hand stopped midway, hovering over the last slice of bread uncertainly.

“Rule number one of this castle,” Deceit said. “Always leave one piece of food behind on the platters.” That was an… oddly specific rule. “Why?” Remus asked, confusedly pulling his hand back.

The warlock smiled lightly. “See for yourself.” He said as he nodded towards the platter. Remus frowned and looked back, puzzled, at the last slice of bread.

For a while nothing happened. Then, to Remus bewilderment and with the faintest little pop sound a second slice appeared on the platter, identical to the first one. Several more soft pops were heard and within a matter of minutes the platter was once more filled with neatly sliced bread.

Remus thought that at this point his eyes would literally roll out his head with the sheer amount of ogling he had done in just these past 12 hours alone. He couldn’t help it. Any display of magic made him want to see more. He was incredibly tempted to snatch the bread away again just to see how new slices would appear. Instead however he turned to the warlock, not caring about how dumb his astounded face probably was.

“…Well that’s a neat trick.” Remus said weakly. The warlock laughed, and Remus’ stomach made all sorts of funny loopity-loops at the sight.

“It’s merely a simple duplication spell applied to the platters. Along with an air bubble created around them to keep everything at its peak freshness. I’ll admit, that one was a bit trickier.”

“Wait, all the platters do that??”

“Those and the carafes, yes.”

Remus’ eyes immediately went to the carafe of wine. Holy crap, Infinity Wine… Every alcoholic’s wet dream.

“That’s so cool!” Remus breathed. He had never seen magic being used like that! Deceit swirled the water in his glass around. “It is a necessity, I’m afraid. Food is sometimes so hard to come by in the mountains. One learns to appreciate what you can find, even when it is as simple as this. Although I never thought I would have to serve it to such…” The warlock smirked at Remus. “Royal company.” “I-I don’t mind!” Remus shook his head. How was it that one smile of this man made his brain turn to lumpy mush? “Not at all!”

“Oh, I’m so glad about that,” Deceit grinned. “I would positively be distraught if you did mind! Especially since I suppose you were used to the… finer things in life, back at your home?”

Something about that last line jostled something in the helplessly purring slush that was currently his head. His home… His home! His plan! Now was as good of a time as any!

“Oh, right!” Remus dropped his cutlery. “When are we going to take over the castle??” He asked brightly.

Deceit’s hand froze, the glass in his hand halfway up to his lips. He shook his head, seemingly unsure whether or not he heard that correctly.

“I… What?” The warlock’s voice had gone from lightly teasing to downright flat.

“That’s what you want, right?” Remus clarified. “I can help! I know all the entrances of the castle, including the ones that aren’t really entrances I guess? But don’t worry, I would never ask you to go through the sewers! Or do you want info on the guards’ shifts? I got those too! Had to evade those fuckers every time I snuck out!” Growing more and more enthusiastic about the whole idea, Remus grabbed an empty plate and some spoons and arranged them on the table in a rough approximation of the castle’s defence system. “Right, just imagine this plate is the castle! The guards change every six hours, except when there’s a party, then it’s every four hours!” He moved the spoons around the plate, mimicking the exchange of guards. “I would say the best time to sneak in would be at… three o’clock at night or so? Especially on Wednesdays, because then general Isolda isn’t on duty! She’s a real piece of work, lemme tell you! Ohoh!! Shall I detail who the best knights are? So we can take those out first??”

Remus eagerly beamed up at the warlock. The other man hadn’t moved throughout his little explanation. He still held his glass halfway up to his mouth, all the while staring at Remus with the most incredulous blank look he had ever seen. Remus’ grin turned a little less enthusiastic as the seconds kept ticking away in politely baffled silence. Did he say something wrong?

Just as he wanted to ask if maybe his explanation was unclear, Deceit’s eyes hardened with suspicion. The warlock’s face darkened with slow awakening rage as he slammed his glass down with a bang.

“Do you think I’m a fool?” Deceit hissed as he rose from his chair, the very air around him crackling with barely held back fury. Remus paled.

“What??? No! No, no, no!” Remus threw up his hands in a placating gesture. “I just want to help you, I swear!”

“Oh, of course!” The warlock bitterly laughed. “One of the royal family just swoops in and wants to help me! What a cute little fairy-tale! Do tell me another! What’s next, you wish to burn down your family castle?!”

“Yeah, really wouldn’t mind that either-!”

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” Deceit roared, his eyes flaring up in flaming gold. Remus sharply inhaled as the eyes bored into him, pinning him down as helplessly as they had done back on the mountain. The warlock moved in, fast as a viper, gripping the arm rests of Remus’ chair as he loomed over the prince.

“Tell me the truth!” The warlock commanded with a hiss. His voice seeped into Remus’ mind like honey, stickily sweet and burning, dousing Remus’ head in gold. The pure intensity of the feeling left him shaking.

“I want…” Remus gasped. “I want-!”

“Yes?” Deceit bit out impatiently.

“I want to help you take over the kingdom because those fucking bastards got it coming!”

Immediately the gold receded, making Remus’ his eyes slip shut and his head fall back as he gulped for breath from the abrupt withdrawal. For a while there was nothing heard but Remus’ laboured breathing. When he sluggishly blinked open his eyes Deceit still loomed over him, stock-still. Staring down at him with the most pure perplexed look of utter confusion on his face. It made Remus want to kiss him senseless.

“You… I… You’re-!” Deceit shook his head, his silver tongue seemingly at a loss for words. “You’re actually serious-!”He finally sputtered out.

“Sure am!” Remus grinned, hoping to hell the warlock wasn’t going to ask why exactly he was so eager to help him.

“But-! But what about your life there?!” “Fucking overrated, let me tell you!”

“Your companions? Your friends?!”

Remus shrugged. “Don’t have those!”

“Really?” The warlock frowned. “There is no one? No one at all?”

Briefly the image of serious eyes behind square glasses crossed his mind’s eye, and for the first time since he woke up a little nugget of hesitance wiggled in Remus’ head. He hadn’t thought about the stuffy librarian… Would his favourite nerd miss his sparkling presence?

“Your Grace, could you kindly get off the bookcase?”

“I can not converse right now, I am quite busy.”

“No, your Grace, I do not eat books. That seems like a very counterproductive way of attaining new knowledge.”

…Oh, who was he kidding? Logan was probably just glad he didn’t have to clean up after his messes anymore.

“Nope! There’s no one!” Remus cheerfully said, throwing up his hands in a ‘what ya gonna do’ gesture. “So let’s burn the castle to the ground!”

Deceit stared down at him for a long moment, a wildly searching look in his eyes. A hundred clever remarks and questions crossed Remus’ mind but he bit them all back. Instead he steadfastly held eye contact, even when his gaze wanted to flick down to the warlock’s lips. What was Deceit looking for? Proof that Remus was being dishonest? Or was it something else?

Eventually Deceit pulled back, slowly releasing the death grip he had on the chair’s armrests. Unsteadily he stepped away to heavily fall back into his own chair. Remus released the breath that he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Whatever it was that Deceit had tried to find, apparently it hadn’t been there. The warlock’s thousand-yard stare suggested someone who saw three weeks (or a month at most) of planning disappear into thin air.

“Well this is an… Unexpected time saver.” Deceit muttered.

“…Time saver for what?” Remus asked curiously. The warlock jostled, as if he hadn’t realized he had spoken out loud. Remus squirmed under the glower Deceit send his way. The warlock took him in with narrowed, analysing eyes. Like Remus was a puzzle he wasn’t quite sure how to solve yet. It almost made Remus shy, which was just ridiculous. He didn’t do shy. Quickly he grabbed his glass and took a big swig of water to avoid that scrutinizing gaze.

“…Let me get right to the point then,” Deceit said, his face once more an unreadable mask. “Have you ever wanted to learn magic?”

“Magic?” The prince frowned. “Uh, yeah? Who hasn’t? Why? Are you offering?” Remus joked before taking another sip of water.

“As a matter of fact,” Deceit said lightly. “I am.”

Remus doubled over in a cough as the water went straight up his nose. Hacking like an old man he pounded on his chest to dislodge the water he inhaled in his own lungs.

“Try not to die on me, little prince,” The warlock’s dry tone reached through Remus’ coughing. “We still have much to discuss.”

It took a few minutes before Remus got his breathing back under control. He swallowed a good couple of times, and looked back at the other to ask multiple questions, including, but not limited to, ‘what the actual fuck’ when he saw that the warlock wasn’t looking at him. Instead he looked just a bit past Remus.

“Ah, there you are, my dear.” Deceit said with a warm smile. Remus whipped around. Who was this?? A rival?? His plan be damned, he would challenge his competition to a duel right then and there-!!

Yellow and black scales patterned down a long coiling body, which silently glided itself across the table towards him. Loudly cursing Remus grabbed the utensil nearest to him (a fork unfortunately) from the table and held it up like a sword as quite possible the largest cobra he had ever seen raised itself up right before him. Vicious green eyes with split pupils stared him down scornfully. The cobra’s tongue flicked out, scenting him, before flaring its hood and hissing furiously at Remus, showing off fangs the size of his little finger. He suddenly understood why he hadn’t spotted any rodents around the castle.

Before Remus could even think about jamming his fork into the snake’s jaw, Deceit reached forward and softly caressed the cobra’s belly with his knuckles.

“Ssssh, sssh... Eris, Eris…” The warlock soothingly cooed. “There’s no need for that, my beauty.”

The cobra turned to Deceit with another hiss, this one not quite promising murderous intent like the previous one, but still fierce.

“Oh dear, someone is grumpy,” Deceit chuckled affectionately, like he was talking to a toddler and not a massive venomous killer rope full of rage. “Eris, may I introduce you to Remus. Remus, this is Eris.”

Remus sunk down his chair when the cobra looked at him again, her eyes filled with contempt. The resemblance to his mother was almost uncanny.

“P-Pleasure to meet you…?” Remus hesitantly smiled. Eris pulled her nose up with a snarl, showing off her fangs once more. Remus gulped and slid a bit further down his chair, hoping to hide his vulnerable neck from those teeth.

“This man will be our guest for the foreseeable future. Yes he will!” Deceit said sternly as Eris angrily hissed, disbelief somehow clear in her eyes. “So be nice.”

Eris glanced between Deceit and Remus dubiously, before hissing again. Deceit sighed. “Please don’t question my decisions at the dinner table. We talked about this.” He said tiredly. Eris made a rolling movement with her head, like she desperately wished she had eyes that could roll.

This was turning into quite possibly the weirdest (and oddly arousing) day of Remus’ life as he watched Eris slither onto the warlock’s arm, and Deceit let it happen calmly. As if the snake, sliding herself up and wrapping around his neck and shoulders like the world’s deadliest scarf, couldn’t kill him with just one bite. Eris rested her head on Deceit’s shoulder and glowered over her own coils at Remus.

“Don’t mind her,” Deceit absent-mindedly caressed the cobra’s yellow and black scales. “She’s not good with new faces, but she won’t harm you.”

“…Riiiight.” Remus said as Eris raised the tip of her tail, first pointing it at her eyes, then at Remus. He wasn’t sure if snakes could glare, but this one was definitely giving him a look that told him she could kill him a hundred times over if he stepped as much as a toenail out of line.

“You haven’t answered my question yet.”

Remus tore himself away from his little staring contest with the cobra to look at the other snake at the table. “Your question?” He repeated a little confused.

“If you would like to learn magic.” Deceit clarified.

“…Hold up. You mean that was a genuine offer??” Remus asked as he sat up from his crouched hold. “You actuallywant to teach me magic?”

“I do.” Deceit calmly nodded.

“B-But… Wait.” This wasn’t real. He was most likely just unconscious under one of those bookcases he knocked over.

His head was probably crushed. A plank impaled him, right through the eye, and he was bleeding pretty pictures all over the floor with bits of brain swirling in the red-

Remus shook his head. No, no, no! Bad brain! Roman thoughts, remember?? But how else could he explain it? There was no way that not just a warlock, but The Warlock In The Goddamn Desolate Mountains was offering to make his childhood fantasy become a reality. It had been his dream to learn magic. A dream he shared with Roman, ever since their ninth birthday party. Their parents had invited a magic performer, who had woven illusions of light into thrilling stories that came alive around the guests. Remus remembered reaching his hand out, utterly mesmerized, toward a pirate ship made of shining orange light. His hand had passed through the illusion, but his fingers had tingled with the feeling of pure magic.

That night Roman and him had barely slept. Instead they had excitedly whispered into the late night hours, planning and saying mock spells, their imagination making their hands light up with magic. They would become the greatest sorcerers in whole the land!

Of course, their dreams were crushed the next morning when they excitedly talked about their plans at breakfast and their mother had gracefully informed them that royalty was not allowed to learn magic.

“What?! Why not?!” Roman had whined.

“It would create chaos if kings and queens could use magic to rule their countries. Just imagine if any monarch could enchant their fellow leaders to hand over their crowns,” Queen Nadia had said matter-of-factly over her cup of morning tea. “That rule has been decided in the Peace Treaty set up after the Iron Wars. Which you two would know if you paid attention to your history lessons.”

“Peace Treaty? More like Peace Doody…” Remus had muttered scornfully, making Roman snort.

“Besides,” King Augusto had continued. “The universities do not teach just anyone. The ancient art of magic is a difficult path, only destined for the worthy. You would need actual talent to be able to learn such a difficult thing.” At this point, both of his parents had pointedly looked at Remus.

“…Can I even learn magic??” Remus hesitantly asked.

Deceit shrugged, and somehow managed to make it look elegant. “I don’t see a reason why not.”

“Isn’t it like…” Remus waved a hand in a vague twist. “ ‘An ancient art, only destined for the worthy?’ ” He said, mimicking his father’s words.

“Ah yes,” Deceit rolled his eyes. “That old lovely titbit of elitist superiority. Well dear, let me just crush that mind-set immediately. That idea is something what we call in the professional world complete horseshit.”

The warlock saying swearwords really shouldn’t be as sexy as it was. “What do you mean?” Remus asked quickly to distract himself.

The warlock growled- Actually growled! Remus wanted to scream.

“Magic is an ancient art only destined for the worthy,” Deceit mockingly spat in a nasally voice. “HA! You know what that is? A lot of showy talk for ‘We only want the people that we approve of to learn.’ As if magic is a snooty benefactor who values bribing money over actual talent! No no no!” Deceit used no magic, yet his eyes lit up as if fire was burning in them. Remus leaned forward a bit, breathlessly pulled in. He couldn’t help but want to be consumed by those flames.

“Magic, true boundless magic, is inside all of us. Anyone, from the man who thinks he’s worthy because he wears a crown, to the lowest beggar on the streets. They all have that potential for magic. Everyone can learn it! And there was a time everyone did! A time where farmers would draw sigils in their land to ensure their crops would be bountiful. Midwives would chant spells to guarantee mothers a painless delivery. But of course, of course,” The warlock snarled. “Those in power would look down upon such practices. Can’t have your ‘peasantry’ grow too independent, or have the power to fight back once they realize they’ve been mistreated! So as time went on those practices disappeared... Hunted down by those who discouraged it at best, or killed who opposed them at worst!”

Deceit grumbled on quietly, but Remus didn’t quite catch it. In fact, he was feeling a little dizzy. How was it that one second the warlock was all grace and poise, a deadly kind of calm that reminded him of a predator in waiting, yet the next he was so passionate, so full of fire? The contrast made Remus’ insides simmer.

They could cut him open and nothing but mush would come out. A soup of all his bones and organs, with his bloody beating heart at its centre-

“I was… taught about that in history class,” Remus said weakly. “But… My teacher… He said that that kind of magic was…” What did that old fart say again? Ah yeah. “ ‘It’s like comparing high class art with simple scribbles on a wall.’ ” Remus did his best to imitate the snooty voice from his memory.

The warlock’s eyes darkened. Even Eris made a soft scoffing sound. “He said that, did he?”

Remus held up his hands in defeat. “His words, not mine!”

Deceit nodded with a short hum. “And scribbles on a wall are any less valid than high class art because…?” He asked with a too sweet smile.

Remus blinked stupidly. “Uuuuh… You can put high art in museums,” He tried. “And scribbles… Not?”

“Huh,” Deceit tilted his head in mock thought. “So one is only for the privileged to enjoy, while the other is for everyone?”

Dumbly he stared at the other man. Up until this point Remus had never put doubts on his teacher’s words, but now? Well fuck. He had never considered it that way…

“My point stands,” Deceit said smugly when he saw Remus struggled to answer. “You can learn magic, despite what some people would like you to think.” He took a sip of his water, and smirked over the rim of his glass at Remus. “So what is your answer, little prince?”

Remus grinned so wide his cheeks hurt. Him! Learning magic! Oh man, if only Roman could see him now! Remus had given up on that dream, resigned himself to just staring jealously whenever he saw Virgil summon his purple shadows. But now!! Now he could! To hell with the stupid “No Magic For Monarchy” rule, he would actually become a sorcerer! He was already down with committing treason! Why not break some more rules while he was at it? He could already imagine his brother’s dumb face and his dumb offended noises if he knew Remus would be learning magic instead of him!

In your fucking face Roman!!

He opened his mouth to yell ‘YES!’ when-

“I’m afraid he just can’t be helped, your Majesties.”

Remus bit his lip, resisting the urge to shuffle his feet. What he wouldn’t give to be doing homework right now, even if it was math equations. If he just could be anywhere but here, listening to his tutor summing up his every mistake. All the while his parents sat and listened, their hands folded in their laps. The parlour felt suffocating hot, yet still Remus struggled not to tremble.

“He has no talent for the written word. All his work is not only completely inappropriate, but also riddled with spelling errors.” His teacher said. Remus wanted to yell that his stories were fun, you stupid old fart! Why did some mistakes matter?? He wasn’t suicidal however, so he kept quiet.

“He refuses to pay attention to any of the classes, he doesn’t understand even the easiest of subject matter and his grades in math are… Well, you’ve seen those.”

“You’re saying he’s simple.” His father said coldly. Remus winced, biting harder down on his bottom lip. Maybe he would bite through his own flesh and they would have no choice but to send away, lest he bleed on the expensive carpet. With that small hope in mind Remus clenched his jaw harder.

“Well, he does have some passion for the arts-”

“We’ve seen what he draws,” His mother said airily. “Clearly you can agree that’s a passion we should discourage.”

“Of course, your Majesty.”

But he liked drawing! He loved filling pages upon pages with the things he found interesting! So what if his interests included blood and monsters and zombies and… Maybe he should have drawn more unicorns, like Roman did.

“Regardless, I have tried everything in my power,” His teacher continued. “But the boy just refuses to learn.”

“Pure laziness,” King Augusto dismissed. “You’ll just have to drill him harder. You have our permission to use whatever you deem necessary to discipline him into learning.”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

Remus flexed his fingers, making the red lines where his teacher had struck his hands with a ruler twinge. Whatever he deems necessary? What else could his teacher do??

…On second thought, he really didn’t want to know.

“Thank you for your report, mister Davis,” Queen Nadia smiled. “Now please leave us. We wish to talk to our son for a moment.”

“Of course,” Mister Davis said as he deeply bowed. “A grand day to you, your Majesties.”

Remus stared up at his teacher with pleading eyes. As much as he despised the older man, he didn’t want him to leave. Mister Davis however completely ignored him as he made his way out of the parlour. The door slamming shut behind him sounded in Remus’ ears like the executioner’s axe coming down.

“Well?” His mother icily said after a few agonizing seconds. “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

Remus stared down at his feet as he racked his brain. Should he run? No, no… The last time he tried to run he didn’t get very far, and afterwards… No, he didn’t want to relive that.

“Answer!” His father barked, making Remus jump. “Or are you too dumb to talk as well?”

“I-I’m sorry!!” Remus stuttered. “But I-! I just-! I try-!”

“Goodness me, always with the mumbling!” His mother said impatiently. “How many times do we have to tell you? Speak. Clearly!”

“Sorry!” Remus said, louder. “I didn’t mean to-!”

“And now you’re shouting at us? Horrid little boy, you know perfectly well shouting worsens my headaches!” Queen Nadia sighed delicately as she rubbed her temples. “It’s as if you want us to suffer… Is that it?”

“I’m sorry,” Remus apologized again, this time in a whisper. “I don’t-!”

“And he’s back to the mumbling!” His father shook his head. “Why do we even still try with you?”

Remus worriedly bit his lip again, which by now was raw from the extensive chewing. He was unsure of the volume his parents wanted to hear from him, so he kept his mouth shut.

“First you insist on continuously disrupting your brother’s class,” His father continued. “So you force us to hire a private tutor for you. And how do you repay our generosity? By failing even the easiest of classes! How do you suppose your mother and me feel under all of this? You’re an ungrateful little-”

“But I don’t get it!” Remus blurted out. Shocked he slapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. Oh no oh no oh no why did he say anything??

“Oh?” His father’s voice turned quiet, the kind of quiet that Remus learned to associate with danger. He couldn’t stop trembling now even if he tried. “Pray tell, what exactly is it that you ‘don’t get?’ ”

What could he say? That he didn’t remember any of mister Davis’ snooty rambling of bone-dry facts, especially since his tutor refused to repeat himself? That his mind seemed to move faster than his pen, so he rushed his writing to keep up? That no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t for the live of him focus on any big block of text shoved in front of his nose? “I… don’t get the lessons,” Remus finally choked out. “They’re hard! I just-! Don’t understand them…”

Due to the rushing in his ears he didn’t hear his father get up. Because he was staring at his feet he only knew that his father approached him when a big hand grabbed his collar. The shirt digs into his throat, cutting off his air, as he is hoisted up.

“Don’t understand them? Don’t understand them?!” His father barked. “My goodness, you really just are that stupid, are you?!”

His head is harshly slapped sideways as his father’s hand connects brutally with his cheek, leaving a ringing in his ears and tears forming in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry-!!”

“ ‘Sorry’ isn’t good enough!” King Augusto shook his son harshly, making Remus’ teeth rattle. “Sorry doesn’t fix your grades, you utter waste of space!”

Remus wailed as another hard backhand struck him, his father’s ring stinging on his cheek.

“You’re a disgrace to our family name, you hear me?! A DISGRACE!”

“Augusto, stop.”

His father’s hand lowered as the king turned to his wife. The grip on Remus’ shirt didn’t loosen though, so Remus was left hanging, barely standing on his tippy-toes.

“He has to learn, Nadia!” King Augusto growled.

“I know, dear. But we have that state dinner in a two days,” Queen Nadia said. “He has to be presentable by then.”

His father grumbled an annoyed ‘Oh, that’s right’ and Remus sagged in relief, his breath leaving him in a rush.

“Oh, don’t get comfortable,” King Augusto turned his attention back to him, and Remus froze. “I suppose this just means the usual punishment for you.”

Remus’ throat squeezed itself shut, fear churning in his stomach as he desperately shook his head. “Please no- I’m sorry, I’ll try harder, I’ll do everything, please don’t-!” His father started dragging him along. “NO PLEASE PLEASE I’M SORRY I WON’T DO IT AGAIN I’M SORRY PLEASE!!”

Remus’ smile died away. No... No, this was a bad idea. Years of bad grades and annoyed tutors started ringing in his head, in an atrocious symphony of all his mistakes. What made him think that this would go any differently? Deceit would try to teach him and soon realize that he was as dumb as a rock. Just imagining that lovely voice sighing in irritated disappointment made him wince. He couldn’t handle that.

“You…” Remus wrung his hands and shook his head dismally. “You don’t want to teach me.”

Deceit frowned at the sudden shift in mood. “Why not?”

“I told you, I’m…” A moron. “Not good with learning. Never been a good student, me!” Understatement of the year, don’t you think? “Seriously, you’re doing yourself a favour by not teaching me! Loads of people have tried and failed!” Remus perked up a bit and smiled eagerly up at the other man. “But I’m more than ready to bust some skulls for you!”

Deceit didn’t look thrilled as Remus was with the promise of skull breaking. He only narrowed his eyes with that analysing expression again. “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand,” He said. “Are you saying you doubt my abilities?”

“Wh- NO!” Remus quickly said. “No, not at all!”

“So you don’t think I lack the skills to be a good tutor?”

“Never!” Remus shook his head vehemently. “I wouldn’t even dream of it!”

“Well in that case, do not ever presume again that you can tell me what I do or don’t want to do.” Deceit finished in a cold tone.

“But I’m not joking!” Remus protested. “I’m not a good student-!”

“I’ll be the judge of that, thank you very much,” Deceit tilted his head. “That is of course when I actually get an answer from you. Do you want to learn magic?”

“No, really, you don’t want to-!”

“That is not what I asked,” Deceit interrupted. “I asked about what you want. What I want is irrelevant to the question. So I ask you one last time…” The warlock leaned forward, his two-toned eyes intent. “Do you want to learn magic?”

“I…” What he wanted? Since when did that matter? Remus swallowed the protest that lay on his tongue when the warlock raised an impatient eyebrow. “…Yes.” He admitted quietly. “Yes, more than anything...”

Deceit smiled. “Then I’ll be your teacher.” He said satisfied as he leant back. Remus gaped at him, opening and closing his mouth like a fish on dry land.

“But I really can’t learn-!” He weakly tried one more time.

“Nonsense,” Deceit dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Anyone can learn. Everyone just has a different way of how they learn. And if I have to dig a little deeper to find yours, well,” He flashed Remus a short smile. “So be it.”

Beneath the table, Remus stabbed the fork he was still holding into his own leg before he could blurt out that the warlock was welcome to dig deep into him anytime he wanted. “Neat!” He squeaked instead.

The warlock took no notice of his distress. His eyes had taken a distant look.

“Let’s see… I will need to prepare your lessons. For that I should…” He trailed of in a mutter, his eyes closing as he thought. Remus focused on the thinking crease that Deceit’s brow made. He wanted to smooth it out with his thumb and a kiss. How disgustingly cutesie of him. Roman would approve, so he counted it as a win for him.

“Right!” Deceit’s eyes snapped open and he got up from his chair. “Your lessons will start tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow??” Remus sputtered.

“I expect you here in the morning at eight,” Deceit continued, undisturbed, as he made his way to the doors. “Make sure you’re on time.”

A thousand questions rushed through Remus’ head, so many that he had no idea where to start. What would he learn? How was the warlock so confident in him? What would happen? Why him? What did any of this had to do with taking over the kingdom? Why him? Why. Him??

No, Remus blurrily thought through all the screaming of his head. That was not the right question. The right question was…

“Wait!” He blurted, jumping up from his seat and reaching out to grab the warlock’s sleeve. He immediately withdrew his hand as Eris’ jaws snapped at his fingers.

“Eris! I said be nice!” Deceit turned to him as Eris wound herself back around his shoulders, a snarl showing off her fangs. “Even if he is a little rude.”

“Sorry,” Remus muttered. “But… I need to ask.”

“Yes?”

“…Why do you want to do this? What’s in it for you?”

Eris made an offended little hiss, like she was appalled that Remus dared to question her human. The warlock however seemed to have expected the question. “It is quite simple,” He said. “I will teach, help and otherwise guide you through your learning process and whatever you wish to do with afterwards. And in return… You will do something for me. A favour, if you will.”

Well that wasn’t ominous at all. “…What’s the favour?” Remus squinted.

Deceit smiled, a secretive small thing. “All in due time, little prince. All in due time.”

That answered exactly nothing, but Remus didn’t get the chance to ask more as Deceit turned away from him once more.

“Take the day to explore the castle, and get acquainted where everything is,” Deceit said as he walked to the door. “But don’t bother looking for an exit. You won’t find one.”

Remus stared after him. “…So I am to be your prisoner?” He asked. The warlock stopped in his tracks and turned to him with a smile.

“Oh, ‘prisoner’ is such a strong word,” He drawled. “I prefer to call it… My honoured guest.”

And with that, and one last threatening glare from Eris, the warlock left the room. Leaving Remus to wonder just what exactly he had gotten himself into.

Deceit walked through the halls he had walked a million times without truly seeing them, his feet automatically taking the turns needed. His plan would be set in motion sooner than he thought, so he sifted through the mental list of what he needed to prepare for tomorrow. He would have to dust off some books, see if he had enough potion ingredients-

“this again.”

Interrupted from his contemplations Deceit looked at Eris. Her green eyes had lost their ire for now. Concern was the only thing left.

“I have to try it,” Deceit said softly. “Surely you understand that I must?”

Eris tilted her head, her tongue flicking out.

“i don’t trust him.”

“We don’t have to trust him. We only have to make sure he trusts us. So try not to antagonize him too much?”

Eris thought this over for a minute before she nodded. She rubbed her head against his cheek, scales against scales. Deceit relaxed at the familiar sensation as he cupped her head against him with his hand. He smiled at the soft, almost purr-like sound that filled his mind when he scratched her under her chin.

“will it work?”

“It will,” Deceit said confidently. “It has to. If not for me…” He sighed. “Then for her.”

The monster wondered if maybe he was dreaming. Maybe he was still at his home, held down and unconscious because of the pain, instead of out here in the forest. There was no way he escaped, much less that a witch would save him! But for a dream the fat arms that securely held him felt alarmingly real, as did the pain still burning up his back. The woman carried him away from the open spot, deeper and deeper into the forest. All the while she kept murmuring reassurances into his hair. He was too frightened to protest. The woman was obviously very strong, so trying to struggle out her grip would do nothing.

He didn’t know long they walked when the witch finally came to a stop. The monster peeked up to see why, but he saw nothing. Just more trees.

“Hold on tight, little one.” The witch said. The monster frowned. Hold on tight? For what?

The witch muttered something incomprehensible, a white glow lighting up the veins in her hands. The monster heard a loud snap, as if something spread open after being folded close for too long. The witch leaped up. The monster’s stomach lurched as the ground fell away beneath him. Up and up they went, further than any person could jump. Strong flapping sounds reached his ears as they got higher and higher. Did the witch have wings?!

After a few dizzying seconds the witch landed on a deck of wooden planks. “We’re here!” She cheerily said. A wave of her hand, and a door in front of them opened. A door?? Up in the trees?? A snap of the witch’s fingers and warm light suddenly illuminated the dark night, streaming out from the door and making the monster blink rapidly, blinking away spots in his vision until his eyes got used to the light.

The home they just entered was so… Cosy. The monster found that he had no better word for it. Everything, from the walls to the ceiling and the furniture was made of wood. A ladder led up to a loft with a messily made bed. Wooden cabinets with glass stained windows took up most of the walls, and a comfortable looking couch with a mountain of colourful pillows stood before a woodstove where a fire burned heartily, quickly warming the cabin up.

The door closed behind them. The witch gently sat him down in that nest of pillows. As she released him the monster’s heart hammered in his throat. She got him to her home… What would she do to him now? As if she sensed his fear, the woman softly shushed him as she walked behind him.

“I’m going to need to take your shirt off,” The woman said gently. “Okay?”

No! No not okay! They had tried to take his shirt off too, before they grew impatient and just held it over his head while a knife started slicing under his skin. He shook his head, muttering ‘no no no no no!!’ while he desperately tried to pull away. The witch however held his shoulders firmly.

“It’s alright! I won’t hurt you!” The woman said. “I just want to heal you! You won’t feel any pain, I promise!”

He didn’t believe her. All adults ever did was hurt him, why would she be any different? He kept shaking his head, tears filling his eyes again.

A light weight landed in his lap. The monster blurrily squinted down to see the small form of the white dragon looking up at him with a tilted head. The scaled snout snuffled at his face, before they nuzzled their head under the monster’s chin. The motion tickled a little bit, and the monster couldn’t stop the soft giggle that escaped him. Next the dragon nudged at his hand, and the monster hesitantly started to stroke the smooth scaled body. The little dragon radiated heat, warming the monster’s cold skin.

“I think Rosie likes you.” The woman said warmly.

“R… Rosie…?” The monster asked softly.

“That’s her name,” She laughed as the little dragon yawned. “You know, there’s a spot behind her wings where she loves to get scritches. Why don’t you try it?”

Not wanting to disobey her, the monster carefully scratched the scales just behind the wings, cautious of his sharp claws. Rosie however didn’t seem bothered by his talons, her red eyes shuttering close. The pleased gurgle that left the dragon sparked another giggle out of the monster.

Distracted by the little dragon the monster didn’t notice that the witch carefully peeled up his shirt until the fabric dragged on the wounds on his back. Rosie was startled off his lap as he screamed at the sudden flash of sharp pain.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” The witch said as she pulled off the shirt quickly, exposing his ruined back to the cold air. The monster sobbed, hiding his face into his knees. “It’s okay, it’s okay… I got you.”

He didn’t hear the singing at first, his own sobs overpowering the lilting voice that started of as quiet as a spring breeze. Hands hovered over his back, and he braced himself, preparing for more pain. None came. Instead it almost felt like… Like…

…Like the pain was disappearing.

His sobs quieted, as he finally heard the singing that steadily grew in volume. A strange tingling sensation ran down his back. As if a comforting fog made from a thousand small, cool hands soothingly caressed the pain away. A new melody started, and now it felt like refreshing water travelled down in streams, moulding broken skin back together and easing his fevered skin. With every note the witch sang another agony was lulled to nothingness, another ache rippling away like a puff of smoke. When finally the song ended the monster’s back felt like the knife never went near his scales. The witch murmured something he didn’t understand, snapped her fingers, and now even the sticky feeling of dried up blood disappeared.

“There you go…” Fingertips gently dragged down his back in a feather light touch. “All better. Now you only need…”

The light touch disappeared. The monster was distantly aware that she searched for something, but as he gingerly sat up he could only dizzily focus on how the pain, his everlasting companion, had vanished. Even the bruises where they had gripped his arms too tightly to force him down had disappeared.

“Where did I put it...?” The woman muttered behind him. “Aha!” The witch walked back to him. “This may be a bit big on you, but it’s better than nothing!”

Something fuzzy was pulled over his head, and the monster only briefly panicked before he realized it was soft and warm, and enveloped him like a hug. A little dazed the monster allowed his arms to be guided into the far too big sleeves of what turned out to be a brightly yellow woollen sweater. He bunched the sleeves up in his hands, smiling lightly at the sweater paws he created. The fabric was so soft!

“That feels better, doesn’t it?” The woman chuckled, patting his head gently. The monster stiffened at the touch and the hand pulled back quickly. The monster swallowed. He mustered up all his courage, before he carefully, oh so carefully, glanced up through his unruly curls.

The woman in front of him was tall, taller than any adult he had ever seen. She had no wings, as far as he could tell. Her thick dark hair was braided, hints of grey hairs starting at her temples and lacing through the braid like rivers of pure silver. Her eyes stood out like stars amongst the sky. They were a pale grey, so light that they were almost transparent. The intensity of her gaze however was significantly softened by her kind smile, which made the soft wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and laugh lines around her mouth deepen.

Everything about this woman was big and beautiful, making him feel even scrawnier and uglier in comparison. Realizing he had been staring, the monster quickly looked back down.

“No need to be shy,” The witch said gently. “My name is Lysandra. What’s yours?”

The monster wrung his hands. He shrugged.

“…You don’t want to tell me just yet? That’s okay. Maybe… Maybe you should drink something first! You’re probably thirsty, huh?” Lysandra disappeared from his line of vision, and the monster heard her rummage through a cabinet. He eyed the door. Should he try to run? But the house was so far above ground…

“Found it!” The witch walked back to him, a goblet in one hand and a water pouch in the other, which she used to fill the cup up. “Here you go.” She held the drink out for him with a smile. The monster said nothing. Despite his parched throat he leaned away slightly, fearfully staring at the offered drink.

“…What’s wrong?” Lysandra asked, frowning slightly.

The monster fidgeted with the soft fabric of his new sweater. “Is… Is it poisoned…?” He asked quietly.

The woman’s eyes widened. “What- Poison-? No! No, of course not!” She quickly reassured. “Why would you think it’s poisoned?”

The monster looked at his lap, nervously picking at the yellow fabric of his sleeves. “That’s… That’s what t-they always said…” He stammered. “T-That they should p-poison me for poisoning their lives…”

“No! They said that-?? Those-!” The witch gasped in horrified affront. “Those… They actually-!” Lysandra closed her eyes for a second and took a deep, deep breath through her nose. When she opened eyes she gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s not poison. Here, let me proof it you!” She took a big swig from the goblet before holding it out to him again. “There, you see? No poison. Promise!”

The monster looked between her and the drink for a few seconds, before finally slowly reaching out and grasping the goblet with both hands. The second the water touched his tongue the monster gulped it down greedily. He hadn’t quite realized just how thirsty he had been.

“Not so fast, you might get a stomach ache!” Lysandra laughed. The monster however refused to slow down. Who knew when he would get water again? The goblet was empty within a minute, and he wasted no time licking the last few precious drops from the cup. He lowered the cup and stared forlornly down at it. Maybe he should have been more careful with it…

“Would you like some more?”

The monster looked up, gaping in shock at the witch.

“R-Really? I can have more?” Lysandra’s made a little noise in the back of her throat, her pale eyes softening with an unreadable kind of sadness. “Yes. Yes, of course you can.” She said softly, and poured the cup full to the brim. The monster wasted no time either with this portion either, and thought that he would faint when the witch filled his cup again! He couldn’t quite believe his luck!

“I wasn’t kidding about the stomach ache, you know.” The witch teased, but she made no move to stop him. He was halfway through his third cup when the monster finally lowered the cup. For a brief second he felt so content.

“Now will you tell me your name?”

The feeling fled. He bit his lip and once more only shrugged.

“It’s alright, you can tell me!” Lysandra said kindly.

The monster squirmed in his place anxiously. What was he to say? He shrugged again. The witch frowned.

“…Wait,” She said in gradual understanding. “You… don’t know?”

The monster shook his head minutely. “They… They never told me…” He said softly. Or rather, he had figured out at one point that ‘freak’ wasn’t an actual name.

For a while nothing was heard but the soft crackle of the fire and the wind outside. The monster tightened his grip on the goblet. When the silence kept stretching on, he dared to glance upwards. He immediately regretted it when he saw the witch’s balled fists and the dark fury on her face.

“I’m sorry!!” He shrunk back into the cushions, dropping the goblet to throw his arms over his head, spilling the water over the floor.

“What? No! No, no!” Lysandra anger immediately disappeared as she quickly knelt before him, ignoring the water that now soaked into her pants. “I’m not mad at you! Never at you! I’m mad because-” The woman shook her head. “Because those people-! Not even the common decency to give you something as simple, yet utterly important as a name-!”

The monster glimpsed up at her, lowering his arms a smidge. Catching the terror in his eyes the witch sighed deeply and rubbed her temples with her middle and index fingers. When her hands lowered her soft smile had returned.

“You know,” She said gently. “Sometimes parents are not really parents. Sometimes people are… Unworthy of the children they were given. When that occurs, a child can start a life away from them! Choose their own destiny. And…” She gently caressed his scaled cheek with her thumb. “Choose their own name.”

The monster’s mouth fell open. “Y-You can do that??” He asked bewilderedly.

“Of course you can!” The witch laughed. “Why? Do you have one in mind?”

As a matter of fact, he did. He had overheard one when he had secretly listened in on a reading of a poem, years ago. He remembered pressing his ear to the floorboards, soaking in the words like a sponge. He remembered gasping loudly when he heard the name for the first time.

For years he had hidden the name, like someone else might hide a treasured trinket in a box. It had been his, and his alone. He hesitated. To suddenly say it out loud…

The witch noticed his reluctance. “It’s alright,” She assured. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“…I don’t?”

“You don’t. In fact…” She gently grasped his hands. “Keep your name safe and secret inside your heart,” She said as she placed his palms over his chest, where his heartbeat fluttered like the nervous wings of a butterfly. “And once you feel like you can trust me with both, then, and only then… You can tell me. Okay?”

The monster glanced dubiously between the witch and his hands. He didn’t understand any of this. But he nodded. Lysandra smiled.

“Are you hungry?” She asked sweetly. The monster hesitated for a second, before he nodded again.

“I’ll make you something! Probably something light… Soup maybe?” The witch got up and walked towards a cabinet. “I should add some strengthening potions to it… To help you heal better!” She pulled several vials from the cabinet, mumbling to herself about the different properties of each potion. Meanwhile Rosie the dragon nudged at the monster’s hands again. Carefully he caressed and scratched the white scales. With a happy thrilling sound Rosie contently curled up on his lap, her wings stretched out to give him access to the best scratching place.

The monster once more wondered if he was dreaming. He had a dragon purring on his lap, not a hint of pain in his body and a kind witch wanted to make him soup. Even if it all turned out to be a dream, he would cherish this moment forever.

His petting faltered as flickering candlelight reflected on the scales of his hands. No… No, if this were a dream those things would be gone.

“Dragon’s breath…? No, no… Too potent for now…” The witch muttered before putting a vial back. A thought struck the monster suddenly. He wondered…

“Y-You’re a witch…” He said before his courage left him. He shifted nervously when Lysandra looked back at him, but she only smiled.

“Indeed I am!” She laughed. “But you don’t have anything to fear from me. Like I said, I won’t hurt yo-”

“Can you take them away?”

The vials slipped from the witch’s hands. The monster winced at the harsh shatter of glass against the wooden floor. The deafening silence that fell sent an uncomfortable shiver down his spine. A sudden found boldness however made him press on.

“I mean… If you can do magic… Maybe you could-!” He could hardly finish the sentence, hopeful excitement coming alive in his heart. He could see it now... him, proudly returning with smooth skin on both sides of his face, without claws or fangs, no extra arms appearing out of nowhere. Everyone cheering and welcoming him back home. The image made him smile.

“…I can’t.” The witch said quietly. His smile fell.

“But… You can do magic!” He protested. “Can’t you-?”

“There are some things…” Lysandra’s voice wavered. “That not even my magic can undo, little one,” She shook her head. “I’m sorry…”

His hopeful fantasy crumbled to ash. It was too much. Thick tears started rolling down his cheeks again. Funny. He thought he would have ran out of tears by now.

“No! No, little one!” The witch abandoned her vials to kneel again in front of him, gently brushing his tears away with her thumbs. But not even the little dragon’s soft nuzzling against his chin could comfort him now.

“Please, little one,” Lysandra pleaded. “Please don’t cry! It will be okay!”

“B-But I-I-I’m a- a monster-!”

“You are not a monster!” Lysandra said fiercely, cupping his cheeks to make him look at her. “You are just a boy! A boy who suffered because of-!” The witch stopped. She closed her eyes, and let out a shuddery breath. “…Because of other people’s ignorance.” She finished quietly.

He sniffled, staring at the witch with blurry eyes. “I don’t w-wanna to go b-back like this-!” The monster- No, the boy- hiccupped.

“You’re not going back!” The witch’s eyes snapped open, fire filling her pale gaze. “You’re never, ever, going back to that place again!”

The boy startled. “B-But where…?” Where would he go? Would he live in these woods forever, survive on insects and berries his whole life? Lysandra looked torn for a second, before her eyes filled with determination.

“You are not going back there,” She repeated resolutely. “Not if I can help it. Buckle up, kid! I’m your mom now!”

With that she pulled him into a hug. He allowed it, too stunned to object. The witch caressed his hair and hummed a soothing little tune, a melody he vaguely recognized.

(Remus and Eris at each other:

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #dukeceit #Demus #janus sanders #remus sanders #tw abuse #did I say at the last I had a breakdown?#That one was nothing compared to how I felt with this one #fucking hell

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tlbodine · 5 years ago

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Why Isn’t “Mass Shooter” a Modern Horror Monster?

Horror reflects the anxieties of the culture that produces it. In the 1950s, we got monster movies about radiation-mutated creatures and invaders from beyond the stars, mirroring our Cold War Science fears.

In the 1970s, as “Women’s Liberation” and birth control went mainstream, we see an influx of horrors settled on childbirth and children and family dysfunction.

And as the 70s bled into the 80s, while real-world serial killers were leaving behind trails of victims, the masked psycho was dominating the field with countless slashers.

But now -- throughout the 2010s -- mass shootings loom large our our collective American consciousness. Hardly a week goes by without hearing of one somewhere, and they inspire fear and terror. Yet we haven’t seen them show up to dominate horror media in the way serial killers do -- what’s up with that?

Horror-media discussion about gun violence under the cut!

Before we get started, a caveat: There is media about school shootings. It’s just not usually horror. Most, as you can see from IMDB, is family drama: https://www.imdb.com/list/ls070532039/

And none of them are really particularly mainstream, not in the way we associate with slasher films.

So what’s the difference? Why is a killer with an axe more compelling as a film monster than a killer with a gun?

Some hypotheses:

Primacy: Because mass shootings are frequently in the news/public discussion, it’s always “too soon” - the real-life horror is too horrifying for entertainment. Sounds good on paper, but why isn’t that true for slashers? Those movies were popular when serial killers were at their most active.

Politics: Perhaps political motives are influencing the market. Since gun control is a contentious topic, maybe some powers are motivated toward censorship. But wouldn’t that also censor the family drama type movies? Why would it focus on horror especially?

Logistics: It’s just really hard to make a good horror movie about a mass shooting. Guns kill people pretty quickly and indiscriminately, so you lose the mounting suspense and intimacy of a killer with a knife and other similar horror/slasher conventions.

This last point, I think, bears some further consideration. The more I think on it, the more it seems that the things that make gun violence especially horrifying in real life are also things that make it very hard to put in a horror story:

Mass shootings happen, obviously, in mass. Most horror formulas require characters to be isolated and picked off one by one.

Guns kill people in ways that are impersonal and swift. If you’re killing a stadium of people with an automatic weapon, it’ll take just a few minutes. You can’t stretch that out into a long, lingering torture sequence or whatever.

Gun violence is indiscriminate. Wherever a crowd gathers, a shooter can start killing people. There’s no space for, say, the “horror rules” re: jock, slut, virgin, etc. because morality doesn’t play into it.

A killer methodically making his way through a sorority house, killing its members one by one lends itself more naturally to suspenseful storytelling than a gunman opening fire on a crowd. A killer leaving clues and taunting detectives lends its own narrative structure.

In that regard, it’s pretty obvious: We cannot make a slasher-style film or a torture-porn film about a gunman. It just won’t work.

But perhaps we’re looking at it all wrong. What if we viewed the mass shooter not as a serial killer, but as a force of nature? The disaster movie genre has ample cross-over with horror, and the general formula would work well for a mass shooter:

Introduction to a wide cast of characters as they maneuver into a vulnerable position

The disaster hits, and we move between individuals affected by the calamity, watching their initial reactions

In the ensuing chaos, characters attempt to escape further danger

The danger passed (for now?) some characters manage to survive, now irrevocably changed

Whether the disaster in question is an earthquake, a sharknado, or a school shooting, that formula should work. The key to success lies in the pacing and the large cast, allowing you to stretch out a relatively brief event into a detailed and tense narrative.

So why haven’t we seen that? Outside of, like, one made-for-TV movie I recall watching in the 90s, this presumably straightforward premise hasn’t gained much traction.

The Making of Monsters: Signs and Signifiers

Perhaps the real reason we haven’t seen a lot of horror stories about mass shootings is because there is already so much mythology and symbolism tied to these sorts of narratives, and that symbolism is at odds with the creation of movie monsters.

Guns carry a tremendous amount of cultural significance and baggage, at least in the United States. It’s why they’re so politically contentious. And when something is already heavily laden with symbolic meaning, it’s hard to turn that symbolism into something else in a way that will stick.

Point #1: Guns are a great equalizer. Unlike a knife or sword, skill doesn’t matter all that much when it comes to killing somebody with a gun. You don’t have to be strong or fast or have a ton of training. You just have to point it and pull the trigger -- if you do that enough times, and at a big enough target, you’ll probably hit something. This means that anyone can kill someone with a gun: a skinny nerd, a young child, a petite woman. Guns are the thing that give you, the underdog, a way to compete against them, the big strong enemy.

This leads to Point #2: Good Guys With Guns(tm). As absolutely anyone who has been on the internet for five minutes after Any Sort Of Bad Event will tell you, Bad Things can be stopped by Good Guys With Guns(tm). And while you can debate the merits of armed civilians protecting a group from harm against an active shooter, it’s impossible to deny that, historically, good guys have been armed. Police, military, armed militias, frontiersmen, etc. carry weapons. Which means that “guy with a gun” does not immediately translate, visually or thematically, as “threat” in the same way as wielding a butcher knife in a non-culinary context. A guy with a gun could, at a glance, be a good guy. A guy with a big knife is obviously a villain. Similarly, the Good Guys With Guns(tm) bleeds over into the horror genre. What would the zombie apocalypse be without headshots? How many horror franchises could have been cut short if someone had just shot the killer?

Finally, Point #3: Guns in media have special powers. Gun mythology in film and television is well-developed, with its own set of tropes and expectations. In movies, pointing a gun at someone will automatically make that person comply with whatever you ask them to do -- we even have vernacular about this, “nobody put a gun to your head” -- as if the gun were somehow more powerful than a simple threat and could in fact control behavior. Often, people who are shot in television politely fall over and die quietly; it’s a civilized end, without all of the screaming and thrashing (never mind where they’re shot or what that would would do in real life). And there are so many types of gun. We have a whole video game genre dedicated to it -- collecting guns, learning their various abilities, applying them situationally to achieve various goals. With so many established tropes, writing anything with new tropes and rules runs the risk of generating confusion, disbelief and even hostility in an audience.

So, with all of that in mind, it starts to become clear:

Writing a horror story about gun violence is difficult because guns carry so much mythic significance, and it’s impossible to write about them metaphorically while keeping it clear what that metaphor is.

If I write a story about an atomic-powered lizard who destroys a Japanese town with radiation, it’s easy enough to see that it’s a metaphor for nuclear warfare. But there is no similarly straightforward metaphor for gun violence readily apparent.

But it’s tougher even than that -- because guns themselves aren’t the only thing to have been mythologized.

The Myth of the Lone Gunman

Remember: Guns are the great equalizer.

This knowledge sits in the foundation of storytelling, not just in the fiction we make up but in the way we build narratives around mass shootings in the real world. There are certain tacit assumptions we make about gunmen that may or may not be accurate.

We have a certain narrative framework in place to explain school shootings, for example: The awkward, isolated young man who is bullied until he finally snaps and goes on a killing rampage.

Never mind that this narrative is not wholly supported by facts. It may be true in some cases, but certainly not all. And yet, go back up to that list of mass shooter movies on IMDB and look again at what the majority of them have in common.

This is problematic because, from a mythic perspective, people who are bullied and then stand up to their oppressors are heroes.

In Carrie, when Carrie White destroys the school after being humiliated on prom night, we’re on her side. It feels good to watch her kill all those people who were awful to her. It feels just and righteous and imminently satisfying.

When Spartacus leads a slave revolt, we cheer. When Daenerys Targaryen kills all the masters and uses their heads as mile-markers, we feel triumphant. When Arthur Fleck shoots the smug talk-show host on live television, we think, Well, he had it coming.

Oh, sure. We pay lip service to being horrified. And these dark heroes might die at the end, receiving some karmic retribution for the price of their revenge. But can you say, truthfully, that you have ever once watched a story about an underdog killing his bullies and felt sorriest for the bullies?

So: This is the problem with our cultural narrative about the school shooter. Purposely or not, it puts the shooter in the role of hero.

And not only is that irresponsible, it’s just downright inaccurate.

When Stephen Paddock opened fire on a concert and killed 58 people, he was not firing back at his oppressors.

When Omar Mateen shot up a night club in Florida, he wasn’t getting revenge against his bullies.

When Adam Lanza slaughtered 26 people at an elementary school -- 20 of them young children -- he obviously was not giving his victims what they deserved.

In the real world, mass shooters might be motivated by political ideology and a desire to promote fear -- ie, terrorism. They might be unhappy with some aspect of their lives and decide to “punch down” at a vulnerable group in the worst possible way. They might be looking to become the heroes of certain media narratives, to secure some kind of fame or notoriety. They might want to kill themselves in a way that hurts a lot of other people at the same time. There are lots of reasons why people might commit mass murder.

But the important thing is that the victims are, overwhelmingly, not bullies and oppressors. They are people. Just innocent people in the wrong place at the wrong time. Because mass shootings aren’t really about personal vendettas; they’re about mowing down a bunch of strangers in a few minutes at an impersonal long range.

So here’s my final thought on the topic: We SHOULD tell horror stories about mass shootings.

It’s a topic that’s timely, and it’s a scenario that’s frightening. There’s no reason not to tell these stories. But to make it work -- on a logistic and socially responsible basis -- we need to change our treatment.

Going back to the “disaster movie” idea: It’s time to treat mass shooters in fiction as forces of nature, as oblivious and blindly destructive as a hurricane. It’s time to center the focus on the victims. Never mind the killer and what led him to this moment. Let’s take a minute to think about the people caught in that situation -- the people who fear for their lives, who try to help one another, who fight or flee or hide once the first shot is fired. Let’s write about the moments of humanity shared by two strangers crouched behind something while shots fire all around them. Let’s write about the horror of having your perfectly normal, mundane day suddenly and irrevocably shattered by a stranger with a gun.

There is horror there, real horror, that can be mined and cultivated and turned to art. And it seems to me that embracing that, and shifting the cultural narrative away from valorizing the lone gunman, would be good for art and society.

Are you ready to tell that story?

I am.

#horror #horror media #horror movies #how to write horror #horror stories #gun violence #mass shootings #trigger warnings #long post #Deep dive #horror analysis

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mattbrothersscriptwriter · 5 years ago

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My Top 20 Films of 2019 - Part Two

I don’t think I’ve had a year where my top ten jostled and shifted as much as this one did - these really are the best of the best and my personal favourites of 2019.

10. Toy Story 4

I think we can all agree that Toy Story 3 was a pretty much perfect conclusion to a perfect trilogy right? About as close as is likely to get, I’m sure. I shared the same trepidation when part four was announced, especially after some underwhelming sequels like Finding Dory and Cars 3 (though I do have a lot of time for Monsters University and Incredibles 2). So maybe it’s because the odds were so stacked against this being good but I thought it was wonderful. A truly existential nightmare of an epilogue that does away with Andy (and mostly kids altogether) to focus on the dreams and desires of the toys themselves - separate from their ‘duties’ as playthings to biological Gods. What is their purpose in life without an owner? Can they be their own person and carve their own path? In the case of breakout new character Forky (Tony Hale), what IS life? Big big questions for a cash grab kids films huh?

The animation is somehow yet another huge leap forward (that opening rainstorm!), Bo Peep’s return is excellently pitched and the series tradition of being unnervingly horrifying is back as well thanks to those creepy ventriloquist dolls! Keanu Reeves continues his ‘Keanuassaince‘ as the hilarious Duke Caboom and this time, hopefully, the ending at least feels finite. This series means so much to me: I think the first movie is possibly the tightest, most perfect script ever written, the third is one of my favourites of the decade and growing up with the franchise (I was 9 when the first came out, 13 for part two, 24 for part three and now 32 for this one), these characters are like old friends so of course it was great to see them again. All this film had to do was be good enough to justify its existence and while there are certainly those out there that don’t believe this one managed it, I think the fact that it went as far as it did showed that Pixar are still capable of pushing boundaries and exploring infinity and beyond when they really put their minds to it.

9. The Nightingale

Hoo boy. Already controversial with talk of mass walkouts (I witnessed a few when this screened at Sundance London), it’s not hard to see why but easy to understand. Jennifer Kent (The Babadook) is a truly fearless filmmaker following up her acclaimed suburban horror movie come grief allegory with a period revenge tale set in the Tasmanian wilderness during British colonial rule in the early 1800s. It’s rare to see the British depicted with the monstrous brutality for which they were known in the distant colonies and this unflinching drama sorely needed an Australian voice behind the camera to do it justice.

The film is front loaded with some genuinely upsetting, nasty scenes of cruel violence but its uncensored brutality and the almost casual nature of its depiction is entirely the point - this was normalised behaviour over there and by treating it so matter of factly, it doesn’t slip into gratuitous ‘movie violence’. It is what it is. And what it is is hard to watch. If anything, as Kent has often stated, it’s still toned down from the actual atrocities that occurred so it’s a delicate balance that I think Kent more than understands. Quoting from an excellent Vanity Fair interview she did about how she directs, Kent said “I think audiences have become very anaesthetised to violence on screen and it’s something I find disturbing... People say ‘these scenes are so shocking and disturbing’. Of course they are. We need to feel that. When we become so removed from violence on screen, this is a very irresponsible thing. So I wanted to put us right within the frame with that person experiencing the loss of everything they hold dear”.

Aisling Franciosi is next level here as a woman who has her whole life torn from her, leaving her as nothing but a raging husk out for vengeance. It would be so easy to fall into odd couple tropes once she teams up with reluctant native tracker Billy (an equally impressive newcomer, Baykali Ganambarr) but the film continues to stay true to the harsh racism of the era, unafraid to depict our heroine - our point of sympathy - as horrendously racist towards her own ally. Their partnership is not easily solidified but that makes it all the stronger when they star to trust each other. Sam Claflin is also career best here, weaponizing his usual charm into dangerous menace and even after cementing himself as the year’s most evil villain, he can still draw out the humanity in such a broken and corrupt man.

Gorgeously shot in the Academy ratio, the forest landscape here is oppressive and claustrophobic. Kent also steps back into her horror roots with some mesmerising, skin crawling dream scenes that amplify the woozy nightmarish tone and overbearing sense of dread. Once seen, never forgotten, this is not going to be everyone’s cup of tea (and that’s fine) but when cinema can affect you on such a visceral level and be this powerful, reflective and honest about our own past, it’s hard to ignore. Stunning.

8. The Irishman

Aka Martin Scorsese’s magnum opus, I did manage to see this one in a cinema before the Netflix drop and absolutely loved it. I’ve watched 85 minute long movies that felt longer than this - Marty’s mastery of pace, energy and knowing when to let things play out in agonising detail is second to none. This epic tale of the life of Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro) really is the cinematic equivalent of having your cake and eating it too, allowing Scorsese to run through a greatest hits victory lap of mobster set pieces, alpha male arguments, a decades spanning life story and one (last?) truly great Joe Pesci performance before simply letting the story... continue... to a natural, depressing and tragic ending, reflecting the emptiness of a life built on violence and crime.

For a film this long, it’s impressive how much the smallest details make the biggest impacts. A stammering phone call from a man emotionally incapable of offering any sort of condolence. The cold refusal of forgiveness from a once loving daughter. A simple mirroring of a bowl of cereal or a door left slightly ajar. These are the parts of life that haunt us all and it’s what we notice the most in a deliberately lengthy biopic that shows how much these things matter when everything else is said and done. The violence explodes in sudden, sharp bursts, often capping off unbearably tense sequences filled with the everyday (a car ride, a conversation about fish, ice cream...) and this contrast between the whizz bang of classic Scorsese and the contemplative nature of Silence era Scorsese is what makes this film feel like such an accomplishment. De Niro is FINALLY back but it’s the memorably against type role for Pesci and an invigorated Al Pacino who steals this one, along with a roll call of fantastic cameos, with perhaps the most screentime given to the wonderfully petty Stephen Graham as Tony Pro, not to mention Anna Paquin’s near silent performance which says more than possibly anyone else.

Yes, the CG de-aging is misguided at best, distracting at worst (I never really knew how old anyone was meant to be at any given time... which is kinda a problem) but like how you get used to it really quickly when it’s used well, here I kinda got past it being bad in an equally fast amount of time and just went with it. Would it have been a different beast had they cast younger actors to play them in the past? Undoubtedly. But if this gives us over three hours of Hollywood’s finest giving it their all for the last real time together, then that’s a compromise I can live with.

7. The Last Black Man in San Francisco

Wow. I was in love with this film from the moving first trailer but then the film itself surpassed all expectations. This is a true indie film success story, with lead actor Jimmie Fails developing the idea with director Joe Talbot for years before Kickstarting a proof of concept and eventually getting into Sundance with short film American Paradise, which led to the backing of this debut feature through Plan B and A24. The deeply personal and poetic drama follows a fictionalised version of Jimmie, trying to buy back an old Victorian town house he claims was built by his grandfather, in an act of rebellion against the increasingly gentrified San Francisco that both he and director Talbot call home.

The film is many things - a story of male friendship, of solidarity within our community, of how our cities can change right from underneath us - it moves to the beat of it’s own drum, with painterly cinematography full of gorgeous autumnal colours and my favourite score of the year from Emile Mosseri. The performances, mostly by newcomers or locals outside of brilliant turns from Jonathan Majors, Danny Glover and Thora Birch, are wonderful and the whole thing is such a beautiful love letter to the city that it makes you ache for a strong sense of place in your own home, even if your relationship with it is fractured or strained. As Jimmie says, “you’re not allowed to hate it unless you love it”.

For me, last year’s Blindspotting (my favourite film of the year) tackled gentrification within California more succinctly but this much more lyrical piece of work ebbs and flows through a number of themes like identity, family, memory and time. It’s a big film living inside a small, personal one and it is not to be overlooked.

6. Little Women

I had neither read the book nor seen any prior adaptation of Louisa May Alcott’s 1868 novel so to me, this is by default the definitive telling of this story. If from what I hear, the non linear structure is Greta Gerwig’s addition, then it’s a total slam dunk. It works so well in breaking up the narrative and by jumping from past to present, her screenplay highlights certain moments and decisions with a palpable sense of irony, emotional weight or knowing wink. Getting to see a statement made with sincere conviction and then paid off within seconds, can be both a joy and a surefire recipe for tears. Whether it’s the devastating contrast between scenes centred around Beth’s illness or the juxtaposition of character’s attitudes to one another, it’s a massive triumph. Watching Amy angrily tell Laurie how she’s been in love with him all her life and then cutting back to her childishly making a plaster cast of her foot for him (’to remind him how small her feet are’) is so funny.

Gerwig and her impeccable cast bring an electric energy to the period setting, capturing the big, messy realities of family life with a mix of overwhelming cross-chatter and the smallest of intimate gestures. It’s a testament to the film that every sister feels fully serviced and represented, from Beth’s quiet strength to Amy’s unforgivable sibling rivalry. Chris Cooper’s turn as a stoic man suffering almost imperceptible grief is a personal heartbreaking favourite.

The book’s (I’m assuming) most sweeping romantic statements are wonderfully delivered, full of urgent passion and relatable heartache, from Marmie’s (Laura Dern) “I’m angry nearly every day of my life” moment to Jo’s (Saoirse Ronan) painful defiance of feminine attributes not being enough to cure her loneliness. The sheer amount of heart and warmth in this is just remarkable and I can easily see it being a film I return to again and again.

5. Booksmart

2019 has been a banner year for female directors, making their exclusion from some of the early awards conversations all the more damning. From this list alone, we have Lulu Wang, Jennifer Kent and Greta Gerwig. Not to mention Lorene Scafaria (Hustlers), Melina Matsoukas (Queen & Slim), Jocelyn DeBoer & Dawn Luebbe (Greener Grass), Sophie Hyde (Animals) and Rose Glass (Saint Maud - watch out for THIS one in 2020, it’s brilliant). Perhaps the most natural transition from in front of to behind the camera has been made by Olivia Wilde, who has created a borderline perfect teen comedy that can make you laugh till you cry, cry till you laugh and everything in-between.

Subverting the (usually male focused) ‘one last party before college’ tropes that fuel the likes of Superbad and it’s many inferior imitators, Booksmart follows two overachievers who, rather than go on a coming of age journey to get some booze or get laid, simply want to indulge in an insane night of teenage freedom after realising that all of the ‘cool kids’ who they assumed were dropouts, also managed to get a place in all of the big universities. It’s a subtly clever remix of an old favourite from the get go but the committed performances from Kaitlyn Dever and Beanie Feldstein put you firmly in their shoes for the whole ride.

It’s a genuine blast, with big laughs and a bigger heart, portraying a supportive female friendship that doesn’t rely on hokey contrivances to tear them apart, meaning that when certain repressed feelings do come to the surface, the fallout is heartbreaking. As I stated in a twitter rave after first seeing it back in May, every single character, no matter how much they might appear to be simply representing a stock role or genre trope, gets their moment to be humanised. This is an impeccably cast ensemble of young unknowns who constantly surprise and the script is a marvel - a watertight structure without a beat out of place, callbacks and payoffs to throwaway gags circle back to be hugely important and most of all, the approach taken to sexuality and representation feels so natural. I really think it is destined to be looked back on and represent 2019 the way Heathers does ‘88, Clueless ‘95 or Easy A 2010. A new high benchmark for crowd pleasing, indie comedy - teen or otherwise.

4. Ad Astra

Brad Pitt is one of my favourite actors and one who, despite still being a huge A-lister even after 30 years in the game, never seems to get enough credit for the choices he makes, the movies he stars in and also the range of stories he helps produce through his company, Plan B. 2019 was something of a comeback year for Pitt as an actor with the insanely measured and controlled lead performance seen here in Ad Astra and the more charismatic and chaotic supporting role in Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood.

I love space movies, especially those that are more about broken people blasting themselves into the unknown to search for answers within themselves... which manages to sum up a lot of recent output in this weirdly specific sub-genre. First Man was a devastating look at grief characterised by a man who would rather go to a desolate rock than have to confront what he lost, all while being packaged as a heroic biopic with a stunning score. Gravity and The Martian both find their protagonists forced to rely on their own cunning and ingenuity to survive and Interstellar looked at the lengths we go to for those we love left behind. Smaller, arty character studies like High Life or Moon are also astounding. All of this is to say that Ad Astra takes these concepts and runs with them, challenging Pitt to cross the solar system to talk some sense into his long thought dead father (Tommy Lee Jones). But within all the ‘sad dad’ stuff, there’s another film in here just daring you to try and second guess it - one that kicks things off with a terrifying free fall from space, gives us a Mad Max style buggy chase on the moon and sidesteps into horror for one particular set-piece involving a rabid baboon in zero G! It manages to feel so completely nuts, so episodic in structure, that I understand why a lot of people were turned off - feeling that the overall film was too scattershot to land the drama or too pondering to have any fun with. I get the criticisms but for me, both elements worked in tandem, propelling Pitt on this (assumed) one way journey at a crazy pace whilst sitting back and languishing in the ‘bigger themes’ more associated with a Malik or Kubrick film. Something that Pitt can sell me on in his sleep by this point.

I loved the visuals from cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema (Interstellar), loved the imagination and flair of the script from director James Gray and Ethan Gross and loved the score by Max Richter (with Lorne Balfe and Nils Frahm) but most of all, loved Pitt, proving that sometimes a lot less, is a lot more. The sting of hearing the one thing he surely knew (but hoped he wouldn’t) be destined to hear from his absent father, acted almost entirely in his eyes during a third act confrontation, summed up the movie’s brilliance for me - so much so that I can forgive some of the more outlandish ‘Mr Hyde’ moments of this thing’s alter ego... like, say, riding a piece of damaged hull like a surfboard through a meteor debris field!

3. Avengers: Endgame

It’s no secret that I think Marvel, the MCU in particular, have been going from strength to strength in recent years, slowly but surely taking bigger risks with filmmakers (the bonkers Taika Waititi, the indie darlings of Ryan Coogler, Cate Shortland and Chloe Zhao) whilst also carefully crafting an entertaining, interconnected universe of characters and stories. But what is the point of building up any movie ‘universe’ if you’re not going to pay it off and Endgame is perhaps the strongest conclusion to eleven years of movie sequels that fans could have possibly hoped for.

Going into this thing, the hype was off the charts (and for good reason, with it now being the highest grossing film of all time) but I remember souring on the first entry of this two-parter, Infinity War, during the time between initial release and Endgame’s premiere. That film had a game-changing climax, killing off half the heroes (and indeed the universe’s population) and letting the credits role on the villain having achieved his ultimate goal. It was daring, especially for a mammoth summer blockbuster but obviously, we all knew the deaths would never be permanent, especially with so many already-announced sequels for now ‘dusted’ characters. However, it wasn’t just the feeling that everything would inevitably be alright in the end. For me, the characters themselves felt hugely under-serviced, with arguably the franchise’s main goody two shoes Captain America being little more than a beardy bloke who showed up to fight a little bit. Basically what I’m getting at is that I felt Endgame, perhaps emboldened by the giant runtime, managed to not only address these character slights but ALSO managed to deliver the most action packed, comic booky, ‘bashing your toys together’ final fight as well.

It’s a film of three parts, each pretty much broken up into one hour sections. There’s the genuinely new and interesting initial section following our heroes dealing with the fact that they lost... and it stuck. Thor angrily kills Thanos within the first fifteen minutes but it’s a meaningless action by this point - empty revenge. Cutting to five years later, we get to see how defeat has affected them, for better or worse, trying to come to terms with grief and acceptance. Cap tries to help the everyman, Black Widow is out leading an intergalactic mop up squad and Thor is wallowing in a depressive black hole. It’s a shocking and vibrantly compelling deconstruction of the whole superhero thing and it gives the actors some real meat to chew on, especially Robert Downy Jr here who goes from being utterly broken to fighting within himself to do the right thing despite now having a daughter he doesn’t want to lose too. Part two is the trip down memory lane, fan service-y time heist which is possibly the most fun section of any of these movies, paying tribute to the franchise’s past whilst teetering on a knife’s edge trying to pull off a genuine ‘mission impossible’. And then it explodes into the extended finale which pays everyone off, demonstrates some brilliantly imaginative action and sticks the landing better than it had any right to. In a year which saw the ending of a handful of massive geek properties, from Game of Thrones to Star Wars, it’s a miracle even one of them got it right at all. That Endgame managed to get it SO right is an extraordinary accomplishment and if anything, I think Marvel may have shot themselves in the foot as it’s hard to imagine anything they can give us in the future having the intense emotional weight and momentum of this huge finale.

2. Knives Out

Rian Johnson has been having a ball leaping into genre sandpits and stirring shit up, from his teen spin on noir in Brick to his quirky con man caper with The Brothers Bloom, his time travel thriller Looper and even his approach to the Star Wars mythos in The Last Jedi. Turning his attention to the relatively dead ‘whodunnit’ genre, Knives Out is a perfect example of how to celebrate everything that excites you about a genre whilst weaponizing it’s tropes against your audience’s baggage and preconceptions.

An impeccable cast have the time of their lives here, revelling in playing self obsessed narcissists who scramble to punt the blame around when the family’s patriarch, a successful crime novelist (Christopher Plummer), winds up dead. Of course there’s something fishy going on so Daniel Craig’s brilliantly dry southern detective Benoit Blanc is called in to investigate.There are plenty of standouts here, from Don Johnson’s ignorant alpha wannabe Richard to Michael Shannon’s ferocious eldest son Walt to Chris Evan’s sweater wearing jock Ransom, full of unchecked, white privilege swagger. But the surprise was the wholly sympathetic, meek, vomit prone Marta, played brilliantly by Ana de Armas, cast against her usual type of sultry bombshell (Knock Knock, Blade Runner 2049), to spearhead the biggest shake up of the genre conventions. To go into more detail would begin to tread into spoiler territory but by flipping the audience’s engagement with the detective, we’re suddenly on the receiving end of the scrutiny and the tension derived from this switcheroo is genius and opens up the second act of the story immensely.

The whole thing is so lovingly crafted and the script is one of the tightest I’ve seen in years. The amount of setup and payoff here is staggering and never not hugely satisfying, especially as it heads into it’s final stretch. It really gives you some hope that you could have such a dense, plotty, character driven idea for a story and that it could survive the transition from page to screen intact and for the finished product to work as well as it does. I really hope Johnson returns to tell another Benoit Blanc mystery and judging by the roaring box office success (currently over $200 million worldwide for a non IP original), I certainly believe he will.

1. Eighth Grade

My film of the year is another example of the power of cinema to put us in other people’s shoes and to discover the traits, fears, joys and insecurities that we all share irregardless. It may shock you to learn this but I have never been a 13 year old teenage girl trying to get by in the modern world of social media peer pressure and ‘influencer’ culture whilst crippled with personal anxiety. My school days almost literally could not have looked more different than this (less Instagram, more POGs) and yet, this is a film about struggling with oneself, with loneliness, with wanting more but not knowing how to get it without changing yourself and the careless way we treat those with our best interests at heart in our selfish attempt to impress peers and fit in. That is understandable. That is universal. And as I’m sure I’ve said a bunch of times in this list, movies that present the most specific worldview whilst tapping into universal themes are the ones that inevitably resonate the most.

Youtuber and comedian Bo Burnham has crafted an impeccable debut feature, somehow portraying a generation of teens at least a couple of generations below his own, with such laser focused insight and intimate detail. It’s no accident that this film has often been called a sort of social-horror, with cringe levels off the charts and recognisable trappings of anxiety and depression in every frame. The film’s style services this feeling at every turn, from it’s long takes and nauseous handheld camerawork to the sensory overload in it’s score (take a bow Anna Meredith) and the naturalistic performances from all involved. Burnham struck gold when he found Elsie Fisher, delivering the most painful and effortlessly real portrayal of a tweenager in crisis as Kayla. The way she glances around skittishly, the way she is completely lost in her phone, the way she talks, even the way she breathes all feeds into the illusion - the film is oftentimes less a studio style teen comedy and more a fly on the wall documentary.

This is a film that could have coasted on being a distant, social media based cousin to more standard fare like Sex Drive or Superbad or even Easy A but it goes much deeper, unafraid to let you lower your guard and suddenly hit you with the most terrifying scene of casually attempted sexual aggression or let you watch this pure, kindhearted girl falter and question herself in ways she shouldn’t even have to worry about. And at it’s core, there is another beautiful father/daughter relationship, with Josh Hamilton stuck on the outside looking in, desperate to help Kayla with every fibre of his being but knowing there are certain things she has to figure out for herself. It absolutely had me and their scene around a backyard campfire is one of the year’s most touching.

This is a truly remarkable film that I think everyone should seek out but I’m especially excited for all the actual teenage girls who will get to watch this and feel seen. This isn’t about the popular kid, it isn’t about the dork who hangs out with his or her own band of misfits. This is about the true loner, that person trying everything to get noticed and still ending up invisible, that person trying to connect through the most disconnected means there is - the internet - and everything that comes with it. Learning that the version of yourself you ‘portray’ on a Youtube channel may act like they have all the answers but if you’re kidding yourself then how do you grow?

When I saw this in the cinema, I watched a mother take her seat with her two daughters, aged probably at around nine and twelve. Possibly a touch young for this, I thought, and I admit I cringed a bit on their behalf during some very adult trailers but in the end, I’m glad their mum decided they were mature enough to see this because a) they had a total blast and b) life simply IS R rated for the most part, especially during our school years, and those girls being able to see someone like Kayla have her story told on the big screen felt like a huge win. I honestly can’t wait to see what Burnham or Fisher decide to do next. 2019 has absolutely been their year... and it’s been a hell of a year.

#top 20 #films of the year #films of 2019 #10-1 #toy story 4 #the nightingale #the irishman #the last black man in san francisco #little women #booksmart #ad astra #avengers endgame #knives out #eighth grade

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fyrapartnersearch · 4 years ago

Text

Howdy there! How are you?

Self

My name is James Home. I’m a 23 year old trans male from Olympia WA. In time zones that’s PST (Pacific standard time) am a visual artist, graphic designer, and storyteller. My Briggs acronym ENFJ. In saying so I’m a huge talker and communicator, physically and literally! Personal interests of mine include BOTW, FFXV, and Hanibal atm. I have a lovely and incredible wife named Isabella. We both additionally like DND (were even painting our minis), collecting Halloween decorations, and watching Avatar the last air bender with our roommate. Though I do have a history in plenty of other fandoms as well and always on the lookout for recommendations.

Preference

So for myself I love to take care of my Rp partners in all accommodations possible.

Meaning if your heart has been craving fluff, rough smut, or a plain ol hug. IM GAME! If none, no biggie let’s make a plot spot!

Roles I usually fall under are but not limited too….

-DOM , Vers, Power bottom

-caretaker, guardian, teacher

-father, handler, knight

-beefcakes, robots, selfless leaders

And so much more!

The roles I lean towards are

-caretaker, strong and silent-ish type, and flamboyant entertainers.

-male roles, trans male roles, open to trying a female role?, non binary, pangender role.

- I do enjoy topping, some aspects of BDSM, and some hard kinks.

-fallen leader, relearning about a loving world, hopeful in a dark world.

-not taking their role as important as they should have or are, “I’ve been doing this for years. But this is new”, and “I brought you your favorite drink wanna cuddle, I’ll provide the sugar?” Types

And so much more!

As far as story things themes are

-highly complex kingdoms

-High pace fantasy

-society by the ocean

-abandon green houses

-heavily dense forests

-fae and fiend worlds

-AUs of pre-existing universes from shows

-magic incorporated

-supernatural

Worlds we design collectively.

My HARD NOs are…

NO MINORS ROLEPLAYING WITH ME, 19 AND UNDER DO NOT APPLY

-abuse in active Rp (can be used from background and really has to depend on circumstance)

-harm of any children

-harm of expected mother

-any form of r*pe play

-blood play, degrading play, hard impact play

-crying kinks, humiliation kink, and electric play

-no smoking kinks either or character usage of substances.

Writing

I’m not too big on proper grammar or sentence structure as long as there was an idea getting across. I’m ok with role playing as many people as you’d like to actively work on, so doubles, and even triples are okay. Plus working two different stories is fun! I do prefer paragraphing and we all know the feeling of one word responses. This is a hobby and creative outlet from myself so that’s why I have no big stressors about punctuation or spelling.

Storytelling

Here are some story concepts I’ve come up with. Yet if you’d like to imply your own let’s talk about it!

Counterpart pathways

A magical filled fantasy realm where all is possible including the bad. One summer day a incubus/demon hybrid named Jona, father of three, learns someone has kidnapped all three of his boys! He's on the hunt for clues and finding them at all costs. Gathering the best crew possible of Moof the best wolf bounty hunter in all the realm, Bell the boys spider caretaker shapeshifter, and Glover the bull/bison hybrid the green alchemist, set off to find the children. Along the way by gathering clues they encounter obstacles and trials of skill and pursuit! Will they ever find the three octopus babies ? Will Jona have closure and put on a shirt? Will Bell ever stop stealing everything shiny? Will Moof grow more confident in his teammates? Will Glover not stop shaking and being such a wuss? Who will help this odd 4 on their epic abnormal quest?!

Puddles

A time traveler that gets stuck in between dimensions due to their powers temporarily weakened from the extensive work they've been doing end up meeting a stranger who takes them in. Not used to the timeline they shows up in, they have to knowledge of normal behavior. They must figure out a way to recharge their abilities but has not of the slightly clue as to what it causing them to have lost them in the first place. Is the person that's helping them good or evil? Who's side are they on? How will they figure them out? Why do they find the stranger oddly familiar?

When men become mortal

An alien/robot/human species that survives by using different masks/chips for various occasions. It's like buying different clothes but they adapt or transform the hoist for a month or less of another body/form/identity. The main character experiences a technical difficulty where their head socket cannot adapt to a new face for long and has to get it repaired. Though along the way he seems to find that not wearing a false identity they actually enjoy seeing the outside world with no expectation of appearance. The other is a identity artist, the one whom develops different faces and identity. He spends hours tweaking details of bodies and faces. He always has the nicest things because of his work and from important commissions and work for certain clients.They meet at a gallery that the artist is hoisting at a museum. The individuals there are decorated like some of the model pieces and others artist curators-part sellers. The faceless one decides to go to the museum to see what's or who's being showcased and since he has a little bit of extra money he saved up for the occasion. Everyone finds him interesting since he doesn't have an appearance, they think he's a model. Thus they send him to meet with the artist for the show. The artist doesn't know him at all. They find eachother very different but most parts similar. From their meeting the artist gets inspired by his original face. Coming to realize that even himself that he has given into the world he never wanted to.The two of them hit it off. Both dwelling into the matters of the "perfect" vessel. Asking the serious questions such as what makes a body, a face, a soul attractive? They go on for hours and it starts to inspire the artists work into his new resorted craftsmanship. The faceless impressed by the purposed questions and also work. The two of them grow closer resulted from talking so much about bodies and meaning. All the while testing out the new creations, body parts, and vessels capabilities. Not all though is good while the two develop this hoist. There's a villain at hand who one of the artist's main clients that goes unsuspected. They want to use the designs to create a vessel for the bad and wealth. Only to include to kill off all humans.The two of them hit it off. Both dwelling into the matters of the "perfect" vessel. Asking the serious questions such as what makes a body, a face, a soul attractive? They go on for hours and it starts to inspire the artists work into his new resorted craftsmanship. The faceless impressed by the purposed questions and also work. The two of them grow closer resulted from talking so much about bodies and meaning. All the while testing out the new creations, body parts, and vessels capabilities. Not all though is good while the two develop this hoist. There's a villain at hand who one of the artist's main clients that goes unsuspected. They want to use the designs to create a vessel for the bad and wealth. Only to include to kill off all humans. Thus forces the artist to reveal his true identity. A human being. Not a hologram. Plus he's not just an artist but a ex-con scientist from the labs that have bloomed into a internalized war. Faceless becomes confused and also hurt that the artist to mention this. Only for the two of them being followed. The artist informs the robot that the hybrids (the children of the robot-species, generations of offspring) are the real threat to society. The one who hoists and is in charge of the power sorce is human and machine. The first of its kind, and also the previous mentor of the artist/ex-scientist. Who will get to the power source first. Our main dynamic couple or the robotic uprising that believe all humans should cease to exist once and for all?

Gay Cryptids

Themes

Active night life

Next to the ocean, sea, body of water.

Beach city/lost boys/Mad max?/punk/ regal?/neon lights/old mascots/vapor wave af

Carnival / festivals

Dark market authenticity

Biker gang(s)

Aquatic features, art, incorporated in surroundings

Lifestyles like fish importing, dock workers, sushi shops, fancy diners

Common foods are all fish and sea foods

The city was a work in process for a resort city, and a major violent storm came too early taking out some of the fancier parts of the island. Most of the higher end houses and mansions were believed to be damaged in the outer edges of the island. There had been a castle built as a main part of the hotel/resort. Old costumes, sets, mascots were left to rot by the seas breeze. Barnacles, ivy, and vines with exotic flora and fauna growing wildly cover the buildings. Possibly even growing in the mansion and other houses. The main part of the biker gang is in a abandoned church next to the sea caves is where the biker gang mostly resides and work primarily as hit men and women. The island would be decided by the two head family of vampires one powerful family versus the other in over control if the current situation of resort in the actual tourist location.A rambunctious gang of young cryptics disguise themselves as human during the daytime but during the night it's quite the time to be alive and young. Various story arcs of love and lust between the group members figuring out their own sexualities and forming adulthood. Though most of it is all of them just fucking around.A rambunctious gang of young cryptics disguise themselves as human during the daytime but during the night it's quite the time to be alive and young. Various story arcs of love and lust between the group members figuring out their own sexualities and forming adulthood. Though most of it is all of them just fucking around.

Plausible locations

Old mill

Carnival / freakshow

Rides and amusement

Abandoned Church

Greenhouse

Garden

Boat house

Log cabins

CAMP grounds

Old schools

Warehouses

The Docks or Port

Boat houses

Boat docks

Abandoned Hotel

Studios

Bike store

Surf or like diving store

Knickknack shack

Ma and Pa restaurants

Antique stores

Downtown

Library

Hospital or infirmary excotic masion

I have story plots for days SONNNN so these are at skim level for plot.

If you’d like to contact me the best ways are

Discord at

Agodnamedhome#4202

[email protected]

I work from 11:30 to 4 Monday-Friday

But available before, and after for sure.

Thursday’s at 5 are my therapist appointments

Weekends are 100% free atm

Looking for a long term, short term, a friend!

#long term rp #oc rp #mulitfandom rp #email #discord #writting #hobby #rp #roleplay #looking for an online friend #pacfic northwest #orginal content #submission

6 notes · View notes

agodnamedhome · 4 years ago

Text

Howdy there! How are you?

Self

Preference

So for myself I love to take care of my Rp partners in all accommodations possible.

Meaning if your heart has been craving fluff, rough smut, or a plain ol hug. IM GAME! If none, no biggie let’s make a plot spot!

Roles I usually fall under are but not limited too….

-DOM , Vers, Power bottom

-caretaker, guardian, teacher

-father, handler, knight

-beefcakes, robots, selfless leaders

And so much more!

The roles I lean towards are

-caretaker, strong and silent-ish type, and flamboyant entertainers.

-male roles, trans male roles, open to trying a female role?, non binary, pangender role.

- I do enjoy topping, some aspects of BDSM, and some hard kinks.

-fallen leader, relearning about a loving world, hopeful in a dark world.

And so much more!

As far as story things themes are

-highly complex kingdoms

-High pace fantasy

-society by the ocean

-abandon green houses

-heavily dense forests

-fae and fiend worlds

-AUs of pre-existing universes from shows

-magic incorporated

-supernatural

Worlds we design collectively.

My HARD NOs are…

NO MINORS ROLEPLAYING WITH ME, 19 AND UNDER DO NOT APPLY

-abuse in active Rp (can be used from background and really has to depend on circumstance)

-harm of any children

-harm of expected mother

-any form of r*pe play

-blood play, degrading play, hard impact play

-crying kinks, humiliation kink, and electric play

-no smoking kinks either or character usage of substances.

Writing

Storytelling

Here are some story concepts I’ve come up with. Yet if you’d like to imply your own let’s talk about it!

Counterpart pathways

Puddles

When men become mortal

An alien/robot/human species that survives by using different masks/chips for various occasions.

It's like buying different clothes but they adapt or transform the hoist for a month or less of another body/form/identity.

The main character experiences a technical difficulty where their head socket cannot adapt to a new face for long and has to get it repaired. Though along the way he seems to find that not wearing a false identity they actually enjoy seeing the outside world with no expectation of appearance.

The other is a identity artist, the one whom develops different faces and identity. He spends hours tweaking details of bodies and faces. He always has the nicest things because of his work and from important commissions and work for certain clients.

They meet at a gallery that the artist is hoisting at a museum. The individuals there are decorated like some of the model pieces and others artist curators-part sellers.

The faceless one decides to go to the museum to see what's or who's being showcased and since he has a little bit of extra money he saved up for the occasion. Everyone finds him interesting since he doesn't have an appearance, they think he's a model. Thus they send him to meet with the artist for the show.

The artist doesn't know him at all. They find eachother very different but most parts similar. From their meeting the artist gets inspired by his original face. Coming to realize that even himself that he has given into the world he never wanted to.

The two of them hit it off. Both dwelling into the matters of the "perfect" vessel. Asking the serious questions such as what makes a body, a face, a soul attractive? They go on for hours and it starts to inspire the artists work into his new resorted craftsmanship. The faceless impressed by the purposed questions and also work. The two of them grow closer resulted from talking so much about bodies and meaning. All the while testing out the new creations, body parts, and vessels capabilities.

Not all though is good while the two develop this hoist. There's a villain at hand who one of the artist's main clients that goes unsuspected. They want to use the designs to create a vessel for the bad and wealth. Only to include to kill off all humans.

Thus forces the artist to reveal his true identity. A human being. Not a hologram. Plus he's not just an artist but a ex-con scientist from the labs that have bloomed into a internalized war. Faceless becomes confused and also hurt that the artist to mention this. Only for the two of them being followed.

The artist informs the robot that the hybrids (the children of the robot-species, generations of offspring) are the real threat to society. The one who hoists and is in charge of the power sorce is human and machine. The first of its kind, and also the previous mentor of the artist/ex-scientist.

Who will get to the power source first. Our main dynamic couple or the robotic uprising that believe all humans should cease to exist once and for all?

Gay Cryptids

Themes

Active night life

Next to the ocean, sea, body of water.

Beach city/lost boys/Mad max?/punk/ regal?/neon lights/old mascots/vapor wave af

Carnival / festivals

Dark market authenticity

Biker gang(s)

Aquatic features, art, incorporated in surroundings

Lifestyles like fish importing, dock workers, sushi shops, fancy diners

Common foods are all fish and sea foods

A rambunctious gang of young cryptics disguise themselves as human during the daytime but during the night it's quite the time to be alive and young.

Various story arcs of love and lust between the group members figuring out their own sexualities and forming adulthood. Though most of it is all of them just fucking around.

A rambunctious gang of young cryptics disguise themselves as human during the daytime but during the night it's quite the time to be alive and young.

Various story arcs of love and lust between the group members figuring out their own sexualities and forming adulthood. Though most of it is all of them just fucking around.

Plausible locations

Old mill

Carnival / freakshow

Rides and amusement

Abandoned Church

Greenhouse

Garden

Boat house

Log cabins

CAMP grounds

Old schools

Warehouses

The Docks or Port

Boat houses

Boat docks

Abandoned Hotel

Studios

Bike store

Surf or like diving store

Knickknack shack

Ma and Pa restaurants

Antique stores

Downtown

Library

Hospital or infirmary excotic masion

I have story plots for days SONNNN so these are at skim level for plot.

If you’d like to contact me the best ways are

Discord at

Agodnamedhome#4202

[email protected]

I work from 11:30 to 4 Monday-Friday

But available before, and after for sure.

Thursday’s at 5 are my therapist appointments

Weekends are 100% free atm

Looking for a long term, short term, a friend!

#rp #rp partner search #rp search #oc rp #orginal content #writting #fantasy #smut #fun #art #self promte

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phantomphangphucker · 5 years ago

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Ectober Day 22: Routine - Somethings Changed, Somethings Changed, Somethings Changed

When you make it a habit to know everything someone regularly does, even someone like Skulker will eventually find out something he’d wish he hadn’t.

*Note: Title inspired by Something Changed by Creep-P

If there was one thing Skulker made sure to know and know well, it was his preys routines. That was one thing he loved about the young halfa, his routine was easy but the fun came from just how frequently it got royally messed up. But it always had the same base structure, ‘ghost attacks, exchange witty banter, kick ghost butt, go home’. In fact it was so much of a routine that the boy could explain it to someone with practiced ease. Then there was mornings of ruffling up sleep tousled hair, shoving minty paste around his mouth and consuming food. Fifty-fifty chance of his parents devices doing something to or around him. Followed by schooling and skipping doing that for some ghost fight or another. Spending an obscene amount of time with his friends, bantering with the hunter girl, and the night patrol. There was, of course, some much more basic aspects to the boys routine. Though sleep was one thing that Phantom just seemed to shove where ever it would fit at random. And something about today just rang all the hunter bells inside Skulker. He just knew today was going to be one of the weird ones. The ones where he always learned the most.

That turned out to be quite the understatement. Because there are other unchanging facts about the whelps routines.

He gets beat up by bullies, sometimes fights back mildly. Why that was, had to be some imperceptible good guy thing. But not today, in all Skulker’s time he had never once seen the whelp, in his human skin, punch the Dash child.

Phantom always smiled at his friends, their backs turned or not. Not today, if they weren’t looking he was glaring or smirking in a way that was honestly impressively malicious.

That sister of his always made sure he got to school eventually. Not today, today she was completely missing.

He always ate his lunch hurriedly but still with enjoyment. Not today, he was lazy about it, uncaring. It didn’t even seem like he tasted the food at all.

But again, another thing Skulker knew about Phantom’s routine was that things often became incredibly strange. But here’s the thing, that was always preempted by either his parents' awful weaponry or some other ghost interfering. He’d always go back to ‘normal’ afterwards. But ever since last night the kid had been off, for no reason. So Skulker kept his distance and watched as things went from weird and off to deeply concerning.

See normally, Phantom never did more than beat ghosts around a little, sometimes taking out his aggression problem on them, but never anything serious. Especially against that fool, The Box Ghost. Not today, which is honestly the most concerning thing yet. Skulker almost felt bad for The Box Ghost. The whelp looked like he was actively trying to destroy and hurt him, for no reason other than to inflict pain. It was, dare he say, incredibly disturbing.

But the most concerning thing of all, was Phantom noticed him. Worse than that, Phantom didn’t care. Phantom never noticed Skulker’s studying of him, never. Skulker went out of his way to make sure he got around and stayed out of the range of the boys' ghost sense. The whelp, while paranoid, wasn’t exactly observant. And Skulker’s sure the ghost child’s sense hadn’t gone off, yet the halfa was acting like he always knew Skulker followed him around and had just decided to make that fact clear. What really unnerved Skulker was that the boy would occasionally lock eyes with him and grin. That is not how Phantom ever reacts to seeing any of his ‘enemy’ ghosts, especially not the mighty hunter Skulker.

So to say the whelps normal routine of behaviour was off, was an understatement.

Watching as the boy takes his silly little human test while grinning maliciously, why the powerful halfa even bothered with human things he’ll never fully understand. Only for the sister to sneak up with weapons, which is more than a little odd. She was decidedly not a ghost hunter or one of the whelps little sidekicks. Only for her to seemingly get electrocuted, pass out and get dragged off by an invisible force. Making Skulker quite pleased with himself over staying the Hell away. He knew Phantom couldn’t duplicate, so that wasn’t the boys doing. So it was something following him maybe, potentially influencing his behaviour. Something similar has happened to the boy multiple times after all.

Skulker can’t help but raise an eyebrow, somewhat amused, at how damn aggressively the whelp hands in his paper. Then pulling a face overhearing the kid using ‘is that a problem?’ as a threat...at a human. Phantom never even threatened human hunters, none the less his own, arguably weak and pathetic, teacher. In fact he seemed quite fond of this teacher, normally. Yet here he was threatening the human and walking off like the proudest thing in the world.

Then even stranger is he’s grinning maliciously around his own family as they go to meet this teacher. Obviously the teacher is not impressed with the whelp. Yet Phantom seems happy about that, seems to eagerly be looking forward to it. Which is yet another thing that is off. The whelp hates getting in trouble, he hates letting people down. He should be absolutely miserable, a little paranoid, and maybe slightly angry. Not grinning full of pride and taking long confident steps towards his unimpressed teacher. While his shocked parents follow behind.

Skulker actually pauses and gapes a bit as the teacher flat out claims Phantom cheated and the little whelp doesn’t even deny it. He seems tickled green actually. Phantom never cheats, especially not on something mundane or schooling. The whelp won’t even use his ghostly strength to do better in gym. He might trick his opponents but he never outright cheats. Never. That is so severely outside of the halfas norm that it is jarring. And then he’s proud even giddy, over being caught. Like he cheated purely so he would be caught. That mental line makes absolutely no sense when dealing with Phantom.

Regardless of being heroes or villains, no ghost wanted to get caught for anything. Phantom included. This was downright wrong, not just off.

The sidekicks showing up and talking about things exploding only seems to make the halfa grin crueller. Like the prospect of everyone getting blown up and dying pleased him. Again, this is incredibly wrong.

Then the sister shows back up with a battle suit, which does look decently impressive, and Phantom finally gives a more normal behaviour; shock. But it’s angry almost malicious shock, which he never has and definitely never aims at a human. Phantom’s anger is the annoyed frustrated kind. Not the red hot or ice cold, ‘I want to make something bleed’, kind.

Watching as the sister blasts him with some beam, peeling off his skin, and NOPE! JUST NOPE! Skulker is not touching whatever is going on here or whatever Phantom just turned into. He doesn’t need to be anywhere near that. He actively doesn’t want to be. He can see and feel from here that that thing is powerful, malicious, cold, and not just bad but evil. And he thought Plasmius could be cruel, disturbing and rather evil sometimes. That man was evil in a manipulative calculating way, this ghost was evil in a destructive and Pariah-like way. And Skulker’s instincts are telling him that Pariah is kinder than this ghost, which is highly concerning. When Pariah had awoken, all the little warning bells in him had gone off but this creature was sending them off so harshly that it almost felt like he would break on the spot. He desperately wanted to flee but he was rooted in the spot. Not just out of abject horror but interest. This ghost looked remarkably like Phantom, colour pallet wise.

Skulker manages to take a step back, firmly stunned at the strange ghost laughing and leaping into the sky, changing the damn weather for no reason, and shouting that he is Phantom. The same Phantom as always, which is wrong. Clearly and loudly outing himself as a halfa. Which is the very opposite of one of the key aspects of the whelps routines. He’ll do near anything to keep his secret. Not today, today someone who claims and looks to be him, is shouting it for the world to hear purely to bathe in their shock. But all this gives Skulker a better look and while he could write off the black and white colour scheme as coincidence, he couldn’t do the same to Phantom’s infamous DP symbol. Whatever’s happened to his prey he definitely does not like. He’s not stupid enough to hunt that.

Skulker manages to genuinely back away some as, definitely evil, Phantom straps his own family and friends onto what his sidekicks basically said was a highly explosive bomb.

“Not until it’s time for you to be blown everywhere”.

Making Skulker realise what, exactly, this ghost was trying to do. It was actively trying to murder them, blow them to bits, kill off the people Phantom cared about most. This was every single level of wrong. On such an intrinsic level.

Skulker knew, it was obvious if you paid any attention, that his preys obsession was protection. Especially of his family and friends. No ghost ever went directly and so extremely against their own obsession. Everything in their very beings would scream against that, would destroy themselves first. For a ghost to go against it gladly, eagerly, and revel in it? That just wasn’t even possible. Just the idea made Skulker’s insides want to revolt.

Which meant that this Phantom’s obsession must be different. His obsession must have changed. But that, ghosts can’t do that either. For that, something at the very core and essence of a ghost had to have changed. Ghosts didn’t change after they formed, not in such a base way. But Phantom was a halfa. Half-formed. Skulker goes wide-eyed and really looks this evil Phantom over. He was more ghostly...This Phantom wasn’t a halfa. This Phantom had fully died. Somehow that makes Skulker recoil even more. That, the whelp, his favourite prey, not being a halfa was utterly revolting.

Watching and shaking slightly, as evil Phantom just lets the sister punch through him and spins his head around. Clearly his routine of not dodging is intact, but that isn’t currently comforting. Seeing as that confirms this is indeed Phantom further. While messed up Phantom assaults his own sister in a show of extreme dramatic flare. Duplicates, really? Just to remove a helmet and gag her? Now that’s just excessive. The whelp always had a taste for flair and dramatics but this was excessive, and was seemingly being done just to revel in others' fear. Grinning and laughing over the screaming, fear and hopelessness in their faces. Which was explicitly not something Phantom does.

Blinking as normal Phantom comes flying out of the sky and starts doing his routine, it’s honestly like a drink of cool ectoplasm to Skulker. Prey doing as prey’s supposed to be doing. But this is still different, more desperate. Normal Phantom is doing everything he can from the looks of it. But he’s firmly getting his ass kicked, brutally. Messed up Phantom isn’t even trying, he’s playing, batting around prey. Even when he gets thrown into an explosion and set on fire, he just walks through the flames like they weren’t even there. Can this psychotic Phantom even be injured?

Here’s another thing about Phantom’s routine, Phantom never gets his ass genuinely kicked. He might be on the losing side for a bit or struggling, but he’s never so plainly outmatched. This ghost, this messed up Phantom could easily kill normal Phantom but he’s not. There’s still the ever-present Phantom ‘witty banter’, from both of them. Which is jarring. Especially because the two have, very clearly, different brands of ‘witty banter’. Messed up evil Phantom is mocking, cruel, egotistical, and full of sneers. Normal Phantom tries to be funny, belittles, and masks his own fear. A level of which Skulker has never seen in the boy before.

Then Skulker blinks, remembering what messed up Phantom had said near-instantly to normal Phantom.

“You don’t get it. I’m still here, I still exist. That means you still turn into me”

Skulker’s brain shorts at that, this monster was what his Phantom, his prey, was supposed to become? How? Why? Phantom would never want this...no wonder normal Phantom, young Phantom?, was fighting against this future thing so hard. Skulker was used to weird around this kid, but fighting his own future was something else.

But that makes Skulker stop. The only reason monster Phantom was just tossing around normal Phantom was because he couldn’t kill him. This monster Phantom’s goal was literally to kill his own family and friends. There is no way this Phantom wasn’t a mass murderer then. No one like Phantom starts with their own family. Blinking, them dying...his future self killing them...that’s probably what causes him to become this. Skulker, if he survives this night, is never even considering seriously harming the halfas close ones ever again. Any trap is not worth his prey becoming this thing.

Skulker nearly flees as the, not just messed up but a damn monster, Phantom just keeps mocking and sneering at the human skinned Phantom. After he functionally pulverised normal Phantom. There’s fire everywhere, people are screaming, the air’s thick with the scent of blood, there’s no way no ones died, and normal Phantom is on his hands and knees. Battered to near nothing and this thing, this monster, doesn’t even look phased. He’s relaxed, amused, laughing. This is a level of chaos and destruction Skulker has never seen done by a single lone ghost before. And all without any power-ups, sneak attacks, items or even putting in effort beyond being unnecessarily dramatic. Skulker is goddamn screwed. He’s been following this thing, and the monster knew it. This monster Phantom could and would swallow him whole and crunch him to bits just for the show of it. Just because he could and he’d barely bat an eye at doing it.

Skulker slumps to sit on the ground, not because he couldn’t make his suit flee but because there wasn’t any point. Fleeing from Pariah had been a fool's game, fleeing from this was just suicide and asking to be destroyed more painfully.

And then normal Phantom screams or wails or shrieks or something. Whatever it is, it is utterly horrifying and destroys a building. And that’s normal Phantom doing that while clearly on the verge of collapse. Skulker is not okay with this. He knew the whelp held back, but this was a little much. And seeing monster Phantom get up from that, only looking annoyed and slightly surprised doesn’t make Skulker feel better. Skulker couldn’t have sustained such a blow. And monster Phantom could probably do that too, and was drastically and brutally stronger than normal Phantom. Which only means that this beast could easily wipe out entire cities with one attack.

Skulker can’t help but grin at normal Phantom besting and capturing the monster Phantom. Even if Skulker’s well aware he was only able to do so because the monster Phantom had to hold back.

But even Skulker freezes as the halfas family and friends perish anyway.

“You’re too late to save them”

The thing, the monster, knew his younger self was going to fail. He was just beating his younger self up....for fun. “What makes you think you can change my past?”. What indeed.

Skulker can’t even bring himself to blink or take note of the weight around his neck, as everything just freezes, like someone pushed pause on a tv show. The whelps family, friends...and teacher, suspended and safe in the air. While some strange child ghost appears next to Phantom. But then is suddenly an adult ghost.

“I see the parade from above. All the twists and turns it might, or might not, take”.

“You knew all of this was going to happen, all of it”.

Now Skulker blinks, he’s no intellect but that sounded like universal knowledge and future sight. Looking around slightly, this strange ghost, It did this. Stopped everything. Looking the ghost over closer, covered in clock imagery. It stopped time. What sort of ghost had such power? And to see the future as well.

He then gapes as this ghost smiles and winks at Phantom. Showing the whelp affection. This ghost was one of the young halfas allies...and It could control time. Stopped something that seemed completely unavoidable and hopeless as if it was nothing. Skulker almost preferred the idea of being destroyed over knowing this.

Watching as this ghost apparently sends Phantom back in time to stop all of this from ever occurring. Before looking to Skulker with a slight frown but a twinkle in Its eye. It knew he was here too. Of course It did, It was probably watching all this the same as he had. It...It knew all of this would happen, how it would end. Yet let it happen to...teach the whelp a lesson? Was this ghost Phantom’s mentor?

That thought manages to break some of Skulker’s shock making him smirk slightly, Vlad would be furious.

Which is when the ghost suddenly appears next to Skulker, making him jerk away and squint at the ghost.

“Who, what, are you?”.

“I would be known best to mortals as Father Time. Though I have been called many things. You may know me best as the Norns”, It gives a slight smile, “mortals insist on labelling me with their genders in interesting ways”.

Skulker watches as they change from old to child. The three Norns, past, present and future indeed. “Are you even a Ghost?”.

“That is one Daniel has never asked and you’d be wise to not ask that which you do not want the answer to”.

Skulker looks away and over at the frozen in time destruction, “why”, he doesn’t doubt this ‘ghost’ knows exactly what he means.

Looking away from Skulker, “the truly powerful have plenty of lessons to learn. All best taught with time”.

Skulker doesn’t miss the pun, and that is oddly grounding. It was the whelps mentor and It was like Phantom.

Skulker looks at his chest then, noticing the medallion. He doesn’t need to be told that this is the only reason he’s not frozen along with everything else. But he doesn’t dare touch it or question what they symbol means. Instead, “why me?”.

“My interference only goes so far. Should you wish to never see this-”, gesturing with Its staff at the destruction, “-again. I have a job for you”.

Skulker looks at the ‘ghosts’ adult face, finding it unreadable, “what is it?”.

It smiles then but doesn’t turn to him, “you work close to Vladimir. You will find blueprints in the future. You will choose to either ignore them or destroy them. My request is simply that you choose the later”.

Skulker nods slightly, “I will but what does he have to do with this?”.

The ‘ghost’ frowns, “Vladimir always wanted to corrupt Daniel, make him follow in his footsteps. There is little he would not do”.

Skulker stares realising what this ‘ghost’ is implying. This was Vlad’s fault. And it was, at least somewhat, intentional. And honestly, that tracked. Vlad was a mad man and just like the whelp, Skulker knew his routines well. “That makes sense. He’s a decent employer but a dangerous man”. Dangerous and powerful, not just physically either.

“Such is the way of all the hybrids. They all pose a threat to the survival of the worlds. Both with and without them. The avoidance of one cataclysmic event always sends the world down the path to another. Vladimir the catalyst, Daniel the inhibitor. Destruction and existence warring it out amongst mortal men”.

Skulker stares, incredibly confused. It seemed to be implying the two halfas were gods or something. It was incredibly odd. But odd fit in exactly with Phantom. “Why are you telling me all this?”.

“Because you won’t remember any of it”.

“But you asked me to do this job for you. I will need to remember it surely”.

“Hardly. Simply by the act of agreeing to do it, you set in motion the choice to do it. You will bear no recollection of today’s events or of me”, turning to Skulker with that twinkling in Its eye. Which Skulker recognise as something like mischief. Which, considering this creature's power, doesn’t bode well. Skulker follows Its movements as It floats to be in front of him, “to answer your earlier questionings of just what future Daniel did. You are indeed correct in your musing on him being a mass murderer. And not just of humans. The worlds fell to him, all destroyed under his fist and fang. Vladimir’s ghost half the first to fall, devoured and consumed. Daniel’s human half the second, disembowelled and decapitated. You only need imagine the rest”.

Skulker can only stare in shock. Monster had been too nice a word.

While the ‘ghost’ continues, “Daniel has seen and will remember exactly what his future self did. He will always be aware of what he’s capable of becoming. You will not. But I’ll tell you this now, so you may understand in the now. Why this was a lesson needed”, pausing to float close to Skulker’s face, which is honestly rather menacing even if It’s in child form now, “Daniel’s initial reaction to seeing his future self destroying Amity Park and obliterating an entire army was, ‘what a cool power’”.

Skulker doesn’t even need to ask to know this power was that wail thing. Which he can do with never ever hearing again.

Skulker looks down at his chest as the ‘ghost’ removes the medallion and suddenly-

Skulker’s got no clue how the whelp is just standing up now when he’d been sitting one second ago. But watching the boy talk about how he’s not a cheater and leaving to sit on the steps feels oddly comforting and extremely relieving; and Skulker’s chalking up that feeling to his hunter instincts.

Watching as his prey mingles with the sister and goes through the regular motions of his routine. This has been the strangest disruption of the whelps routine yet. Still having no clue what caused the odd behaviour and for it to suddenly disappear. But hearing the whelp yell, “guess who’s back and better than ever!”. Leaves Skulker pretty sure the Phantom he’s been following today wasn’t actually Phantom.

He watches for a while longer, feeling the need to reassure himself that his preys back to regular habits, before deciding to pay his employer a visit. It has been a while, even if his gut inexplicably knots up at the thought of the older halfa.

“Assist in separation, consume in desperation”

End.

#Danny Phantom #phandom #ectober #ectober 2019 #stalking #UE rewrite #alternate point of view #attempted murder #Skulker is having a bad time #danny fenton #skulker #dan #clockwork #fanfic #phanphic #have a fic suck my dick #phantomphangphucker #My writing

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raridashdoodles · 6 years ago

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📖 Twilight have read and graded all your stories! 📖

However, since she's a fictional character we'll discard her opinions! I'm the one with the money, so naturally my opinions are the only one that matters.

These are ranked from best to worst and I've scored all entries based on how entertaining (or infuriating) I found them to be. If you got a good score, be very proud! I am not easy to please. If you got a bad score, then it is time for you to go sit in the corner and think about your sins. 👻

First off, the winner and best of the show:

Fic: Love, And Other Felonies Author: PatchworkPoltergeist Grade: A+++ Review: This is pretty much a raridash masterpiece. In my humble opinion, it far surpasses all of the fanfics the raridash community considers its cream of the crop. It has everything from great structure, wonderful characterizations and is an overall fun, creative take on the NMM-verse timeline. The world-building and lore is an added plus and a surprise (didn't expect that due to time and theme restrictions). This is an excellent romance fanfic with Raridash at the heart of its story. The two of them share close to every moment together and have to lean on each other as there is no one else to trust in this harsh dystopian world. Watching these two walk on eggshells in a society where freewill and independent thinking is punishable by death is just as entertaining as it sounds!

If I had to critic this, I'd say the story's epilogue threw me off. I feel that too much character development were lost in amnesia world and the romance aspect just didn't fit the bill anymore. Felt forced and awkward.

Runner-ups:

Fic: My Little Confession Author: Pixel Berry Grade: B Review: Very plain and simple, but it works! Story is very brief and the characters barely has any time to be introduced, but it covers the bare minimum and the characters struggles and exchanges are both endearing, cute and wholesome. Equis High seemed like an interesting place and it would've been great if you could've expand upon it. The prompt lean near the end was way too on the nose and really ruined the flow of narration! You should've kept up your integrity and make up your own ending. An epilogue for this wouldn't hurt either since the story doesn't fade out, it just kind of ends...

Style of narration was very odd and there were several pacing issues, but I feel the creativity makes up for it! These were the kind of stories I was hoping to get out of this competition. ❤️

Fic: Zero-Sun Game Author: Undome Tinwe Grade: C+ Review: This story had some good moments, but the genres stumble over each other constantly. This isn't goofy enough to make it a good comedy and it definitely isn't serious enough to work as a good drama. There aren't any real struggles and Rainbow Dash's character is practically flawless. She knows exactly what say and how to behave in order to get Rarity under her thumb and she can predict events with 100% accuracy, averting every single conflict thrown at her with ease. The more you read, the less intrigued you become. Everything becomes dull up until the ending where everything gets weird. In a story that has references to sex, vice and regicide, giving this story such a cheesy, awkward ending just didn't feel right at all.

You should've gone full comedy and have Rainbow Dash under investigation for being a potential super villain, only for it to be revealed her actions were not a result of amorality but stupidity. Drama could’ve work too, but you'd have to lose the virtual-reality shtick as it sucks away all the tension.

Fic: The Finale Author: Mymysteriox Grade: F Review: This story is called The Finale and as promised by the title, you are indeed dropped into the climax of a big dramatic story, having no clue as to what events has lead up to that moment. Ponies are yelling and crying and then the stage play end. The main characters are real pleased with themselves for performing this amazing play, we weren't allowed to see! The problem with this fanfic is that it is barely anything but a transcript to its prompt. There's no depth, backstory or even introductions. It's an empty shell.

Fic: Every One After Author: AJtheRaven Grade: F Review: This story's attempt at entertainment revolves itself around Rarity and Rainbow Dash being as petty and shallow as possible. In short, Rainbow Dash want a trophy wife and Rarity want an obedient little pupper. These aspirations are forced to the point you wonder why the two of them are an item in the first place. Romance stories who’s conflict are the characters hating each other with the resolution of them kissing and making up in the end are by far the cheapest, dirtiest things in the world. To add on that, it completely fails to utilize the prompt in any creative manner, making this already dull story that much duller. None of the interactions carried any sincerity and every setup was predictable.

If you had plans to write a story out of pure spite then you might as well have gone full out and write a story where Rainbow Dash struggles to dispose of Rarity's lifeless body after having strangled her to death in a fit of rage. At least that way you could’ve gotten a passing score for creativity.

Fic: The Experimental RariDash Crackfic Author: Mystic Mind Grade: F Review: Every single joke in this are like nails on a chalk board. Rarity and Rainbow Dash serves no purpose to this story and could've been replaced by literally anyone. The narrator/Pinkie Pie is obnoxious to the point you want to bludgeon her to death and the story from beginning to end is nothing but meme characters stumbling around and bumping into each other. I was surprised you didn't include a scene where Discord popped in and start twerking in front of the audience, all while promoting his fortnite centered twitch channel. There isn’t a single redeeming factor in this story... Everything is just nauseating.

This might have been a decent story if it was a straight faced drama, but with what I’ve seen from this story I kind of doubt your ability to write romance stories at all.

Fic: A Marvelous Day Author: ModdieFox Grade: F- Review: This fanfic is a big empty template that someone put a raridash sticker onto. Any character could be switched out and it wouldn't make a difference. There's no story, no build-up and nothing in this carries any weight or consequence. Everything feels hollow and manufactured. A loveless, soulless entry.

This needed to be longer (less exposition, more anticipation) and the narration should've followed either Rarity's or Rainbow's internal monologue about the ups and downs in their relationship that eventually lead them to getting married. Big pay-offs like weddings aren't satisfying if we don’t know the struggle.

Fic: Those Wedding Belle Rainbows Author: Tangerine Blast Grade: G Review: I'm at a loss for words... This is a story that relies itself on the stupidity of its characters to push itself forward. Usually I don't mind stupid characters if it's there to make them cute, but in this fanfic it exist for no other reason than to create unnecessary conflicts. The lack of common sense makes every character insufferable and every action taken and every piece of dialogue spoken are annoying and borders on infuriating. The story has no direction and spirals itself into meandering filler. The author couldn't even be bother to write an ending for this clustergack and instead he just copy&pastes a scene from Disney's Pirates of the Caribbean and calls it a day (no, I'm not joking).

I have nothing else to say other than this is the worst raridash fanfic I've ever read in my life. This isn't your everyday kind of failure... This is advanced failure! This deserves a grade lower than F so I hereby award it with the special rating of G (standing for garbage). Kudos.

Disqualified entires:

Fic: Guiding Light Author: Gesstalt Grade: Disqualified (Doesn't follow a prompt) Review: This story tries way too hard to be poetic and mysterious, but due to its brief length it just comes off as unnecessary filler. It feels like someone opened up a book, ripped out a single page from it and presented it as a full story. Everything is vague and cryptic and you can't make sense of anything. Elements are presented with the implications that they have greater meaning but it never amounts to anything and everything just feels pointless.

Fic: Love Eternal Author: RDFan27 Grade: Disqualified (Doesn't follow a prompt) Review: In this story Rainbow Dash enters Rarity's boutique and stands still. It's a pretty ingenious concept, I gotta say! Think about it, Rainbow Dash likes sports so naturally she likes to move around, but because she likes Rarity so much she's willing to go against her nature and stand still!! It's the peak of romance!!!

Sarcasm aside, this fanfic fails to be creative at every turn. Stories with this premise have been written over 300+ times, going back as far as 2011. I didn't like them back then and I don't like them now. This story's only redeeming factor is its ending which threw me into a laughing fit, though that wasn't a feat of writing as much as it was timing.

🌟 Those were all the stories! 🌟

Thanks to everyone who participated, hope you all had fun! Sorry if you didn't win, but not everybody have what it takes to be the best. I hope you found my critic helpful and that it'll go a long way to help improve your future stories!

If you found some of these ratings were unfair, tough cookie! This is a contest and it's not my job to hold your hand. If you don't understand the mechanics of basic story telling or just can't be bothered to write a sincere story, then you only have your own incompetence to blame. Get good or get bent, loser! 🎷

Let’s hear another round of applauses for @patchworkpoltergeist amazing story! 👏👏👏 Wooooo~

#raridash #info

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freakyfeline · 6 years ago

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Analysis of Mr Cornelius Hickey

Here’s a personal analysis on Mr. Hickey that no one asked, haha. I just finished watching The terror AMC, a show that I have loved from the beginning to the end. There are loads of things that had really caught my interest and my fascination; one of which is the antagonist Mr Hickey.

BEFORE YOU CONTINUE READING, HEADS UP THERE ARE SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED THE ENTIRE SHOW

I am both fascinated and repelled by this character. Despite that ambition may not necessarily be a bad thing, he tried to claw his way to the top with cunning ruthlessness. I think it is natural to feel appalled by how far he was willing to go in order to get what he wanted. In fact while watching a series I really thought of him as a villain, but then I reflected about his situation and posed a question; I wondered whether he was really a egomaniac psychopath or whether it was his background that shaped him. After all he was gay and from low class; so the chances of him to rise higher seemed to be very slim during the Victorian age.

He was from the very beginning, an imposter. He had taken his place someone else prior joining for this expedition, which was a little bit odd, given the fact that Mr Crozier told him “You could have just joined”, which meant that he would have been accepted regardless of where he came from. Moreover, later on in the series, Mr hickey took command of the mutinous group, he wore Mr Irving’s coat and Mr Fitzjames boots; a not so subtle hint that he was yet again playing as an imposter. The fact that he wore high ranking officers’ clothes as he himself has taken command, was both ridiculous and fascinating to me. The first thing I’ve asked myself was; if he already had the power to influence the other men to follow his leadership (even if it was out of desperation, the fact that they DID follow him, it means he had at some degree of authority), why did he need the urge to wear a costume to assert himself in a role that was already his?. I personally think that he felt a sense of inadequacy, that no matter how much he tried to rank himself to the top, he felt that he never really achieved it. Which brings me back to the topic of, why did he go so far to and impersonate the real Mr Hickey when it was unnecessary? It just doesn’t add up.

Now Adam Nagaitis ( the actor who played as Mr Hickey) had implied in an interview that his character was unpredictable, opportunistic and adaptable, fair enough, but I still feel that there was something quite at odds with this man. I mean he went as far as cutting his own tongue in order to assert a kind of allegiance with Tunnbaq, and in my opinion that scene seemed to be that he was almost on the brink of madness. I understand that Hickey was a low born who was trying to fit in the world, but he only knew how to carve out his path with violence, selfishness, arrogance and cunning, or maybe he was indeed a psychopath.

I think the actor Adam Nagaitis was a brilliant actor for this character. One of the things I found absolutely fascinating was his smile; which appeared so innocuous and yet so vile (considering that we know about his nature). Nagaitis really brought his character to life by playing him as a cunning schemer with the manner of a mischievous boy. Even when he had a hook around his neck, he was smiling and unfettered, he was not afraid of death. I mean look at that smug on his face.

In the first few episodes, Mr Hickey seemed rather invisible and despite that it was clear that he was scheming, his intentions and his actions were still elusive to me. At first he seemed to appear that he was just having a secret relationship with another man. Although I didn’t particularly like the fact that the main antagonist happened to be gay....but that, I suppose, it was fitting in the mentality and the views of the 19th century.So I wonder; was it a flaw in part of the author or was it something deliberate?

The actor playing as Mr Hickey describes his character as a pragmatic man, in a world of a rigid hierarchical structure and morality shape the lives of these men even aboard the ship, as Sir Francis puts it, “ Does not one bring one’s habits to Terror?”. When in the face of such horror and danger, the ranks and ‘morality’ started dissolving, Mr Hickey found the perfect opportunity to turn it to his advantage, even if it meant through manipulation.

The first time he kidnapped Lady Silence, I think that it was an honest attempt to aid his comrades in the face of the dire situation (i.e. Tunbaq), he also wanted to prove himself that he’s worthy in front of Captain Crozier and the other higher ups, however he ended up being punished instead. I think from than on, he found himself embittered by the realization that the only way to rise to the top was not by approval of others, but only by his own strength. The second time he blamed Lady Silence and the Inuit for their involvement with Tunbaaq was only using them as scapegoats to serve his own ends. However, My Hickey did seem to genuinely believe in the supernatural element of the Tunbaaq, which I find it interesting, given that he’s practical and yet he was open minded enough to believe in something that went beyond logic or science ( similarly to Goodsir). Although he treated the natives and Tunnbaaq, simply as a means to an end.

The same way when he killed Farr and Irving and using their deaths to instill the men with fear from the Inuit. The scene in which he killed Mr Irving is one of my favourite; it’s absolutely chilling that he so coldly took Mr Irving’s life while distorted music was playing in the background. I think that scene revealed the climax of Mr Hickey’s true nature.

Moreover, I find that his nature is somewhat chaotic. In a situation were madness, death and horror prevails, he was the only one who was trying to thrive from it. In fact I found his speech in the last episode to be rather interesting;

“ Bugger Victoria, we’re here

Bugger, Nelson, bugger Jesus

Bugger Joseph and Mary

Bugger the archbishop of Canterbury

None ever wanted nothing from me!”

There are several things that this monologue had caught my interest because it was his ultimate defiance against hierarchy.This is the first time we hear him speaking in a colloquial manner, because he usually spoke in a relatively plain English manner. Secondly I searched the meaning of ‘bugger’ which is a derivative word similar to ‘fuck’ and this insult was addressed to figures of authority. Indeed he felt that he had no place in the age, country, religion or the ranks of his career, so he wanted to make his own path, and that was the reason why he had attempted to make allegiance with Tuunbaq. At this point, he had no wish to return to England, because in this alien land, he found something that he acknowledged, maybe as a god or a supernatural prowess, something new and different to his old world in England, which he found unsatisfying. Though it was ironic that before his speech, he was singing an alternative national anthem by William Hicksen. It seemed contradictory, unless it was intended as a mockery.

(In case you are wondering who Nelson is, I did some research and I think he was referring to Viscount Horatio Nelson, a prominent figure of the Royal Navy during that time).

In conclusion. one of the reasons why I was particularly drawn to the characters were and it does add richness to the story. I especially liked the fact that there were two dark elements in the series; supernatural and human, thus adding dimension to the story. Moreover one of the most exciting things about historical fiction is using the history of the Franklin’s expedition while at the same adding ones imagination to its mystery. After all we know of the real Mr hickey is the knife with his name carved on it, and that he was mentioned in the conscription when he joined the expedition. However I really appreciated how the author had used the excuse that ‘the impersonation’ as a way not to soil the reputation of the real person.

This analysis was based on my research and my own impression of the character, but if you guys want to add something, you’re more than welcome. As long as you’re polite and respectful, I would be interested in your opinion.

#The terror #the terror amc #analysis #Mr cornelius hickey #Mr hickey #the franklin's expedition #the northwest passage #dan simmons #Wow this turned out to be a really long post #character analysis #spoiler alert

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kcwcommentary · 6 years ago

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VLD7x13 – “Lions’ Pride Part 2”

7x13 – “Lions’ Pride Part 2”

This is an odd episode to end a season on. Most of this episode is just a mindless action sequence. There is no character connectivity to the fight. There is no internal struggle to mirror the outer struggle. The mysteriousness of the enemy only sustains the action so far. It eventually gets to a point where it feels like you’re waiting for the battle to hurry up and finish so that we can finally start getting an explanation for why we should care about what’s happening.

The transformation of the Atlas from ship to mecha seems so blatantly designed to be something Allura was supposed to cause to happen. But the EPs’ adamant, primary desire to have Keith as Black Paladin, and thus Allura as Blue Paladin, deprives the Atlas transformation of the significant emotional impact it could have had. Not that I don’t love Shiro, clearly, but there’s no explanation for why he was able to make it happen.

The episode begins with the object that entered Earth’s atmosphere at the end of last episode continuing its plummet to the surface. Allura screams out, “No!” without any real reason to. Yes, this does end up being a mecha that they have to fight, but that hasn’t been revealed yet. So, why is Allura acting like it has? Conveniently, the mecha lands really close to Voltron, close enough that a shockwave hits them. Black tries to block some of it, but Hunk and Shiro (at least) are shown tumbling through the air, Yellow coming to swallow them. Keith tells Hunk to “get Shiro to the Atlas.”

This mecha has a long polearm weapon with blades on each end and a rapid-fire wrist blaster. The Black Lion fires on the mecha, landing no hits. Allura says, “That energy spectrum completely deflected our attack.” Really? Because it looked like the mecha deflected Black’s blasts by spinning its polearm. Allura’s comment sounds like the mecha used some kind of energy shield. Not a big deal, but still the dialog doesn’t match the animation. The Lions try using their jawblades, but the mecha parries them.

The Paladins’ conversation establishes that they haven’t a clue where this mecha came from. And that’s the way it is for most of this episode. I remember watching this for the first time and feeling super confused the entire time. I’m not actually against the show varying up the story structure like this. It leads into next season’s story, but it is completely disconnected from this season’s story. It’s an interesting writing choice. But doing this does make something stark to me: This season’s main villain wasn’t narratively significant.

Ending the season with this battle emphasizes that this season didn't really have a main villain. Sendak was sort of put into the position of main villain, but the only thing that could have really connected him to his conflict is the past emotional antagonism he had had for Shiro. None of that past antagonism was turned into current antagonism for this season though. Shiro and Sendak fight last episode, but none of their previous contention is brought up during that fight. There is nothing about Sendak's being in this season that needed it to be Sendak. Everything he did could have been done by nearly any other Galra. The show seems to have been relying solely on name and face recognition, relying on viewers seeing Sendak and remembering him from the first season when he was a threat by himself. His brief appearance in season five was ultimately insignificant, as that appearance placed the source of his threat in Haggar because she had chosen to support him (with hopes of manipulation) to become emperor, and that was a moment that was quickly over. This season relied on Sendak having a past on the show in order to pretend he was relevant to the invasion plot, but he ended up functioning like a generic villain. This shows that the creative team had a plot plan for this season: Galra invade Earth. They did not have an inner story planned for the characters this season.

Keith gives the expected rallying speech. The Atlas joins, Coran stating they’re there to support. The mecha blasts Atlas, knocking the ship’s shields out in one hit. A medic has taken Shiro to the medical bay, but Shiro declares, “I need to get back,” and shoves his way past the medic. Keith asks Atlas to hold off the mecha while they form Voltron. The mecha takes to the skies and continues its attack on Atlas.

When Shiro arrives on the bridge, he asks about their weapons, which are charged, and then he orders their shields dropped so that those cannons can fire. Anyone remember how the Castle of Lions would fire its weapons either through or somehow directly from its shields? I thought the Atlas was supposed to have been designed significantly after the Castle’s technology. So, it makes it odd that the shields have to be dropped in order to fire on a target. I do kind of like it this way, it allows for some play with the progression of tension in a scene or sequence, but it does still feel like a discrepancy.

The mecha spins its polearm, and now doing so causes incoming blaster fire to reflect back at the attacker. Before, doing that just caused the blasts to be blocked. Little inconsistencies like this in a story combine to eventually make it impossible to build the story in one’s mind as one watches/reads it. I imagine that this creative team would think that that’s a good thing, but the audience/readers of a story should be able to anticipate certain things. If a character action produces a certain result once, then, unless there’s something introduced to explain a change, that same action should always lead to that result.

Voltron swoops in and blasts and/or knocks the mecha into the ground. The mecha changes the shape of the blades on its weapon and separates the pole into two swords. Voltron responds by Red and Green opening their bayard ports. I do not understand why Lance and Pidge are animated to scream while plugging their bayard into the port. It’s not really that dramatic of a moment to necessitate that scream, though I guess the creative team thought it was. Voltron produces two swords, and they and the mecha have a brief sword-on-sword fight. The mecha quickly though knocks the swords out of Voltron’s hands, jumps and dives down onto Voltron, even more easily knocking Voltron’s shield in two. I can’t quite tell but I the mecha actually pierces Voltron’s hull with its swords?

Shiro orders the MFEs to launch, the weapons fire of which does nothing. Pidge grabs the green bayard, still in its port, and Voltron manifests a new (at least I don’t remember seeing it manifested before) arm cannon, which Pidge uses to blast the mecha away from them.

Hunk says that the mecha’s blades “sapped our energy.” And Pidge adds, “It felt like the komar.” This would have to be a reference to the battle in 2x13 “Blackout.” That’s the only time I think Pidge would ever have been in position to know what being subjected to the komar felt like. But this does give the episode’s first hint at who’s behind this attack. I know this episode is about setting up next season, but it is narratively weird for the season to have had no Haggar, except tangentially with the Druid, until here at the very end. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t miss Haggar, and I’m not looking forward whatsoever to watching Honerva have so much screentime next season.

The MFEs are recalled to the Atlas, which hits the mecha with a sustained cannon blast. The mecha throws its sword at Atlas, knocking its shields down again. The mecha then charges some large blaster in its chest and hits the Atlas with it. Pidge says that the mecha absorbed Voltron’s quintessence with the sword attack and is using that energy to power the blasts. Keith says that they’ll “have to avoid direct contact,” and then Voltron reforms its two swords. Wouldn’t a sword fight be direct contact? When I hear “avoid direct contact,” I think a return to cannon fire.

The mecha elbows Voltron in the face, knocking Voltron back a bit. The show then throws Hunk’s family and other assorted humans into position behind Voltron so they can pretend that those people are in danger. They haven’t been mentioned once in this battle until now. These mechas have been dashing about all over the place, and never once did their location include risk to humans. This battle was taking place where Sendak’s ship crashed, and Voltron had specifically maneuvered that ship away from any settlements prior to it crashing. Now including this risk to miscellaneous humans feels empty and contrived. Voltron launches into the sky and the mecha eagerly follows.

At this point, ten minutes into the battle, it’s become mostly spectacle with no emotion involved. That’s not really the best way to end a season: empty, emotionless fighting. There’s nothing about this fight that connects it to an inner struggle for any character, so it functions as just a miscellaneous action sequence.

Keith orders Pidge to fire her cannon again, and she does so. The mecha reflects the blast, and the reflected blasts find their way down through the atmosphere to precisely where the Atlas is floating barely off the ground. That feels contrived. The mecha pierces Voltron again and pile drives it into the ground below. It’s weird that Voltron gets pierced by weapons, but it never takes any structural damage from being pierced. It makes the animation of having Voltron be stabbed feel off, like something is wrong with the animation. Voltron’s eyes go dark. The mecha blasts the Atlas, which explodes. I don’t know exactly what about Atlas explodes, but it does. The Atlas has no physical damage depicted, of course, just like Voltron has none from being stabbed.

Everyone is screaming at Shiro for orders, things are chaotic, the sound of voices drops away. Shiro looks at his new prosthetic hand, and everything around him starts glowing white circuit board like lines, then things snap back to looking normal. Shiro orders the Atlas into the upper atmosphere. Everything glows for Shiro again, the camera zooms into him and then cuts to the crystal the Castle of Lions was crushed into. The walls and lines of the Atlas all over start glowing. The Atlas begins its transformation sequence.

This is a huge part of why so many of us have argued that it seems clear the Atlas was originally intended to be captained by Allura, not Shiro. Why does Shiro respond to the Atlas like this? Why does the Atlas respond to Shiro like this? Shiro was not part of the construction of the Atlas. He was not part of providing it with power. That power comes from the corpse of the Castle of Lions. Shiro might have lived on the Castle for some time, but that Castle was Allura’s. It would make total sense for the Atlas, powered by the corpse of the Castle, to react to Allura if she were captain and in this moment of desperation. It would have had so much more emotional impact if this was Allura having a big hero moment, channeling her alchemy through the crystal made from her Castle, to turn this new ship into this new mecha. It doesn’t have an emotional impact that it’s Shiro doing this because he has no emotional connection to the Castle. He has no ability through which this transformative connection can happen. It’s not like a Paladin and a Lion having some kind of transformative moment because they have a bond. How is Shiro making this happen? The EPs and writers never care to explain. They must have just hoped we wouldn’t pay attention to how this would have far better fit for Allura than it does for Shiro. It emphasizes that their primary goal with this show was Keith as Black Paladin, and they were willing to sacrifice the story having emotional impact and resonant meaning to do so.

Also, Mecha Atlas has really big legs. It’s easy to see how a lot of viewers look at Atlas and see feminine hips, which again, suggest Allura was supposed to be the one captaining the ship.

Atlas fist-dives down onto the spot where the enemy mecha was standing. There’s a really weird sound, almost like a deep, airy scream, as Atlas does so. I don’t know why that scream was included. The mecha flies away, while the Atlas punches a bunch of dirt. Given how close the mecha was to Voltron when Atlas punched the ground, I would think the shockwave would have hit Voltron.

Atlas as a mecha is huge. I know that Atlas as a ship is bigger than Voltron, but it didn’t seem like the size differential was quite this big. I wonder if the animation team made Mecha Atlas bigger than ship Atlas. If so, that’s a problem for me. But maybe we just haven’t had enough side-by-side of the Atlas and Voltron for the size differential to be clearer to me. Atlas tries to blast the mecha but just carves a circle around itself as the mecha flies out of the way.

The Atlas and Voltron reestablish communications. Shiro says that he’s “not exactly sure” how he turned the ship into a mecha. I’m really not a fan of this show having so many upgrades happen without the person causing them to happen knowing how they’re doing it. It makes the upgrade process totally random within the narrative and contrived from a writing perspective. And of course the show having Shiro do this without knowing how is made worse given that they had a totally reasonable explanation for how Allura could have done it if she had been in Shiro’s position.

The mecha blasts Atlas, but Atlas blocks it with its hand. The mecha comes flying toward the Atlas, and a ghostly projection of the mecha comes off the mecha and grapples with the Atlas. This projection is the same size as Atlas. It feels like every time this episode advances the heroes’ abilities, it almost immediately counters it with the enemy. What is played to feel like success ends up being negated almost immediately, and that creates a feeling of being jerked around by the plot. It’s not that the heroes deal with one problem only to have a new one, it’s that their successes are negated. The projection knocks Atlas back and then ends, the enemy mecha at its normal size.

The mecha comes around, projects itself large again, and hits the Atlas in its back, in its shoulders, knocking the Atlas to its knee. The regular sized enemy mecha stabs the Atlas in the shoulders and starts draining its energy.

Keith seizes upon the idea (that was actually set up a lot earlier in this battle) that they have to hit the mecha in the opening it uses for its big chest cannon right before it fires.

Fifteen minutes into this battle, and it still doesn’t have any inner struggle brought out by the outer struggle. Why is this fight happening? It just is. What character(s) are connected to it? None. The battle has a total miscellaneous quality to it. And that causes the audience to not have an emotional investment in the development of the fight.

Red starts blinking its bayard slot at Lance. He and Keith bayard up, activating Voltron’s big wings, they fly to the enemy mecha, stab it in the chest, and there’s a big explosion. In typical fashion for this show, that explosion has no physical impact on anything. No hull ruptures or anything like that for either Voltron or the enemy mecha. Voltron has been separated into the respective Lions. They detect a surge in energy, and Hunk says that the enemy mecha must have a self-destruct mechanism. It’s survived tons of weapons fire, it survived the big explosion just now, but it’s going to blow itself up? Oh, whatever!

The Lions push the mecha up off Earth and into the sky. The music is really nice, but I wish the emotion of the story matched the emotion of the music. Keith says, “It’s been an honor to fly with you all,” like we’re supposed to interpret this as a potential final sacrifice of Team Voltron, but it feels empty to me. The narrative hasn’t been leading to a big character sacrifice, so I have no reason to believe that this is one.

They push the mecha into space, and the mecha explodes. One by one, the animation flashes each Paladin’s face, like we’re supposed to think this is everyone dying. But still, like I said, the narrative didn’t actually set up a character sacrifice, let alone the sacrifice of all five Paladins. It doesn’t have the emotional impact that it seems like the creative team of the show thought it had.

The unpowered Lions fall back to Earth. They were in space, why are they falling down like they’re low in the atmosphere?

Miscellaneous humans stand in miscellaneous locations looking up at colorful streaks for each of the five Lions. Red just plummets through air, not shown to hit anything. Blue hits water. Green hits a forest. Yellow hits rocky desert right next to where Hunk’s family is. Black hits near the Garrison, which, despite having been ordered evacuated into the Atlas when the Atlas launched, still has a person there to see Black hit. Since Shiro has a far greater connection to the Garrison than Keith does, the Black Lion landing at the Garrison would have made so much more emotional sense if Shiro was the Black Paladin in this moment.

Most people who write stories want to have an emotional impact on the audience/reader. So, of course, this show is trying to produce that. But moments like this are just blatantly manipulative. Did literally anyone watching this actually think in this moment that the Paladins died?

Cut to the Galaxy Garrison flying a flag at half-mast. Instantly connoting the observance of respect for the fallen. Shiro is giving a speech. “Today is a solemn day.” The show wants us to think that their having a memorial for the Paladins. It’s a fake moment. It’s not that they’re not having a memorial, it’s just not for the Paladins. It’s purposefully framed to be manipulative. And that makes the scene frustrating from the start.

“Today, we look back at the lives that have been lost and the sacrifices that have been made here on Earth and across the universe,” Shiro continues. Clearly visible in the crowd are a bunch of aliens. How are they suddenly here on Earth now? A few days, maybe a couple weeks have passed since the big finale conflict, and the Voltron Coalition is only just showing up now? Where were they when Earth needed help fighting the Galra for the past three years?

There are miscellaneous photographs of the fallen behind Shiro. The only one who is someone actually in the show is Sanda.

“There isn’t anyone here today who hasn’t experienced the tragedy of losing someone close,” Shiro says. The camera cuts to the memorial wall of the listed dead, those from the Garrison who died in the initial invasion. “It truly feels like a light has gone out in our lives, and the sun itself couldn’t reignite it.” The camera spends a moment on Adam’s placard. It makes me wish we had gotten to see Shiro have more time on camera to be upset over Adam’s death. I wish we had gotten to see more of their relationship so that it felt like Shiro lost somebody deeply important to him.

“But that light, that fire, has not gone out completely,” Shiro says. Then we get a still image montage of what has apparently happened over the past few days or couple of weeks. Matt showing up with the rebels. A Balmera is in the sky behind him. “It is fueled within each of us by the memories and the love of those we’ve lost. And now we must move forward in their names—” the camera purposefully pans over the faces of the Lions positioned behind Shiro and then onto Shiro. The episode is still! trying to fake us out into thinking the Paladins died. It’s so obnoxious. “—and shine that light onto a new path for future generations. Today is a solemn day, but it is also a day of hope.” A still image shows members of the Garrison shaking hands with various aliens.

“Earth is now stronger than ever, and it stands as a beacon of light to help guide those fighting against tyranny and oppression.” More aliens arrive, there’s a shot of miscellaneous Garrison personnel and aliens standing behind them. “From here, we will spread peace, and together we will hold strong as the defenders of the universe.”

The camera pulls back from Shiro to reveal that Hunk has been watching this memorial from his hospital room with his family nearby. Shay enters his room and hugs him. Cut to Pidge in her hospital room with her parents, Matt, the android? rebel, and Nyma. Nyma is here but Rolo isn’t? Where’s Rolo? Lance has his family with him in his hospital room. Allura is in her hospital room with Coran, Romelle (now wearing a Garrison uniform), and the mice. There’s a card nearby in Allura’s room that has a really rough drawing on it, and I’m left wanting to know who drew that card for her!! Keith is in his hospital room, unconscious. He opens his eyes to see Krolia and Kolivan there.

So, the fake Paladin deaths have been resolved. They’re not dead after all. Surprise everyone! Is anyone surprised?

It is frustrating to see this sequence of the Paladins each being shown with their families, but that Shiro doesn’t get any sort of moment like that. Hunk, Pidge, Lance, Allura, and Keith all have some form of family, someone important to them. Shiro gets no one. That the EPs and the writers of this show didn’t think we needed to see Shiro having people who care about him is infuriating. There was so much possibility. They could have literally shown us Shiro’s family. They could have had him having parents still living who come to him and hug him. They could have chosen to not kill the main clone and instead have Shiro’s spirit put in one of the other unactivated clones, and Shiro could have had a brother in the clone. They could have not killed Adam and had him and Shiro reunited, which was apparently at one point part of the plan, according to recent interviews. But Shiro has nobody because the EPs and writers wanted him to be alone.

This season ending with everyone having someone, but Shiro being alone is part of why fans were so incensed over how his character was treated this season. Unfortunately, the EPs very narrowly interpreted this upset to mean that everyone just wanted Shiro to have a boyfriend. It’s not like we are against the idea, but we didn’t want it to come out of nowhere. That eventual end marriage to Curtis was so clearly and blatantly tacked on to try to placate fans who were upset that this ending has Shiro being alone. But it shows that the EPs didn’t really understand why fans were upset that Shiro was alone in the end.

Cut to the Lions, humans, and aliens all working to rebuild Earth. Sal from Vrepit Sal’s has come to Earth and seems to be contemplating a pineapple. I don’t know why, but I kind of really like seeing him there. Allura stands looking up at a wormhole, standing at a platform with her hands on two pedestals, generating it with her magic. Olkari help the Garrison with technological repairs.

Keith, Krolia, and Cosmo go to his father’s grave. Axca walks up behind them. This is a story the show completely drops. This suggests that there is something to Axca. We know from interviews and public appearances that there had been plans to have Keith and Axca get together in a romantic relationship, but this is really the last hint toward that, and the relationship never manifests. This moment recalls all the other moments of unexplained connectivity between the two characters. And it feels so weird that this is just dropped, never resolved.

Cut to Sam showing Allura the hangar where they’ve been storing pieces of the enemy mecha as they recover them. Sam says that the amount of time that has passed has been months since the battle. He says, “We never found its power source, until now.”

To Allura’s surprise, it’s an Altean. And the episode smash cuts. The season is over.

This ending episode has such a long battle, and because they were preserving the reveal at the end of the episode to be this last, sudden, surprise twist, the battle, and thus the vast majority of this episode, is a fight against a faceless enemy. It results in the battle feeling like it’s going on too long, and it deprives the conflict of emotion.

Season seven was very ambitious. The first half of the season felt like it was spinning its wheels really, waiting until it finally got around to the Earth invasion and occupation plot. I think it would have worked better if the Earth invasion and occupation had been given more time to breathe. With so many new characters introduced, they needed time to become important, but they often just ended up feeling miscellaneous and like they were taking time away from the story’s main characters. I like the premise and some of the ideas behind this season, I just don’t think they were executed well. Like the series as a whole, this season had so much potential that just wasn’t actualized.

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