#and its so gross holy crap it makes me violent

[magpod-confessions]

Am asexual, have allosexual spouse I have been with for more than a decade. People infantalize the shit out of Jon and Martin both when it comes to their relationship and contribute to the puritan bullshit rampant in fandom and online discourse. Let them have sex and not have sex and kiss and not kiss and touch and not touch; queerness does not have one phase of expression and asexuality is a an individual experience along a spectrum of identity.

Don't think I have anything else to add except wow-ee people need to get off of Twitter and learn some nuance about how queerness can be and is expressed within relationships. After dealing with aphobia for ages my patience for people policing how asexuality can be expressed is nonexistent. Since this is only the 2nd canonical asexual character I've seen in A major fandom (Todd from Bojack Horseman being the other) and by far the one with the most rep, I am appalled that some of the folks who think their policing of asexuality and sexuality is good in any way. Begging people to speak with some queer elders and understand how policing sex to that extreme results in exclusion for ace folks and other queer folks at different levels and contributes to the idea that asexuals are perpetual children.

.

[waithyuck]

PUPPY

pairing: werewolf!lee jeno x reader (f) *halloweenie special*

genre: smut, supernatural au

word count: 4k

warnings: mature content, excessive explicit language, sexy times (meaning sexual content), I used the word ‘penis’ ONCE and only ONCE, mentions of a knot, knotting (I’m sorry), slight impreg kink, cumming inside, unprotected sex, blood, aggressive behavior, other stupid cliche werewolf things that are most definitely prob in hundreds of fics, jeno does NOT like being called a puppy even tho he’s called it oNCe

a/n: the first release of the dreamie halloweenie series! I hope this one sets the tone for what’s to come 👀 sorry to anyone who hates werewolf cliches and for the extreme lack of any substance or plot lmaoooo anyway I hope y’all enjoy reading

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~10/10/2020~

~~~~

“are you cool with jeno staying the night?” your brother shot out, startling you as he spoke, not even looking at you as he spread too much peanut butter on a slice of bread nestled in his hand.

you looked up from where you were sitting at the kitchen table to face your brother, not saying anything in reply as you got lost in your thoughts.

jeno was an oddball. he was nice and he wasn’t creepy or even that weird, he just had his moments that were just well, odd. he was your brother’s friend of about six years; they met in their second year of high school and have been inseparable ever since. because of that, you have also been surrounded by jeno in all that time as well.

in the first couple years, you didn’t notice anything strange about him. he seemed like a normal and healthy young teenage boy. he was incredibly handsome, so of course your poor soul developed a small crush on him that only grew as the years progressed.

since you paid such close attention to him, you could pick out the oddities in his behavior occasionally pretty well. just from that, you’ve deducted that his sense of smell was almost god-like, like he could smell things that a normal person couldn’t.

now, you supposed that it wasn’t that weird that he had a good sniffer; there were probably tons of other people in the world with the same ability...but it wasn't just his sense of smell that had you curious.

sometimes he would act strangely at night; not often, but enough to have you questioning it. he would either disappear completely without a word or come up with a half-assed excuse to leave and then run away like a frightened animal.

it was just plain odd...and you couldn't get over it, no matter how much you tried to will yourself not to think about it.

snapping out of your stupor, you felt your heart jump at the thought of jeno coming over, even though he’s been here countless times, but you didn’t let it show and you shrugged your shoulders.

“it’s not like I have a choice in the matter,” you stated truthfully, looking down to pick at your nails. “you would have just said he was coming over anyway if I said no.”

your brother smiled at you, beaming as he placed the bread down and patted your head.

“you know me so well, y/n.”

you rolled your eyes, shoving him away. “yeah,” you retorted, slightly annoyed. “It’s not like you’re my brother, or anything.”

he didn't say anything further and you left him alone with his sandwich, getting up and making your way to your room where you could successfully hide for the rest of the night. before your cold make it far, you heard your brother yell something about jeno coming around 8, but you didn't say anything back and just minded your own business all the way upstairs to your room.

you pathetically holed yourself up in your dark room for about four hours, only coming out to quietly sneak to the bathroom and then you would go back into hiding once again.

even when you got word that there was pizza downstairs, you ignored it and continued to watch horror story narrations on youtube.

you just couldn't deal with being in the presence of your long time crush today. it took everything in your power to stop yourself from going downstairs and being potentially spotted, but you managed to pull through successfully and be a pathetic hermit in your room.

it was around 3 a.m. when you were finally finished with watching youtube videos, and you felt gross. you supposed that the two boys would be sound asleep by now, considering your brother never ever sacrificed his beauty sleep for anyone. you grabbed some clean clothes and gathered them in your arms before trudging tiredly to the bathroom, swinging open the door without a second thought, not realizing that the light was already on when you got there.

your heart almost jumped out of your chest as your eyes bulged out of their sockets.

“holy fuck!” you screeched as you took in the sight of jeno, in the middle of the bathroom completely naked, stroking his painfully hard cock right before your eyes. you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the show and you accidentally discovered that there was something not right about the way it looked...

your mouth fell agape and you barely heard him gasp loudly before trying to cover himself with the closest towel.

“jesus christ, y/n!” he yelled back, both of you not even considering your sleeping brother that was just three rooms over.

your eyes stayed glued to where he was covering himself with the towel, still thinking about the oddity of his dick. it seemed to be swelling at the base, which was definitely not normal for a human penis to do.

“what the fuck is wrong with your dick?” you blurted out unapologetically, causing a blush to cover his entire face and neck. you tore your eyes from his covered crotch to look at his eyes, which were now a shocking shade of bright yellow. you jumped back, dropping your clothes on the floor as you watched him breath heavily, most likely trying to calm himself down the same as you.

“oh my god, what the actual fuck is happening?” you murmured out loud, your eyes wide and never leaving his own as he stood silently in front of you. “am i dreaming? am i fucking high?” you tried to reason out as to why you were seeing what you're seeing, but jeno didn't give you much time to think before he spoke.

“you’re not dreaming,” his voice came out low, almost like a growl, and you felt your heart freeze up. “I dunno if you’re high...but what you're seeing is as real as it gets.”

your mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping out of water, trying to formulate the words to say next. your brain literally couldn't think of anything except his abnormally large and weird dick.

“okay…” you trailed off, your hands coming up to rest over your racing heart. “so then I’ll ask again: what the fuck is up with your dick??” and then you quickly added, “and your eyes??? I'm so confused right now, jeno.”

he sighed heavily and turned around, giving you a full view of his ass before he gathered his clothes to get dressed and cover himself. you really should have looked away, but your eyes wouldn’t listen to your internal screaming no matter how hard you physically tried to stop staring.

when he pulled his shorts on he finally turned to face you once more, forgoing a shirt much to your dismay (but really, you were dying on the inside at the sight of his abs). he stared at you for a second, his eyes back to their natural deep brown color.

“...there's a lot we need to talk about.” was all he said before grabbing your wrist in his scorchingly warm hand and dragging you out of the bathroom and down to your room. you didn’t protest and you let him practically drag you all the way there, closing the door behind him and guiding you to plop down on your bed. jeno walked to the opposite side of the room, distancing himself from you as much as possible.

“um..so,” he started hesitantly, trying to form his words correctly. “I’m uh, I'm a werewolf.”

your eyes bulged out of your head in disbelief, but you didn't say anything in reply. you both stared at each other across the space of your bedroom, not uttering a single word.

at first you were ready to call him crazy; there was absolutely no way that it was true. but then you thought about his eyes, his sense of smell...and then thought about his cock...holy shit wait, was that a fucking knot??

“um, yeah, it was…” you heard him say suddenly. you jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice, not expecting him to reply. did you say that out loud by accident?

“you did.”

okay fuck, you needed to stop thinking and pull yourself together. what were you supposed to say to that? ‘oh cool, your cock has a knot and you’re a fucking werewolf, that’s super, jeno!’

jeno went on to explain the ins and outs of being a werewolf to you over the next twenty minutes, the small pink blush on his cheeks never truly leaving as he went into detail about everything. he even corrected certain cliches that were not true, a scowl making its way to his features with each inaccuracy you brought up.

“so...my brother doesn’t know?” you questioned quietly, looking down at your lap.

“no one knows besides you and my family.” he confirmed, and you looked up again to see him lean against the wall behind his back, eyes gazing sharply at you.

you panicked slightly, thinking that holy crap, now that you know, he's gonna have to kill you so the secret doesn't get out.

“oh my god,” you whimpered out, “are you going to kill me now?”

you watched his eyes widen before he choked, coughing violently before composing himself. he straightened his posture, but still didn't make any move toward you, still keeping his distance.

“what?!” he practically shouted, startling you. “of course not! why would I do that??”

you felt your face grow hot and you looked away once again, wringing your hands together on your lap. you shrugged, murmuring quietly, “i dunno...I thought you'd kill me to keep the secret, well, you know, a secret…”

you heard him sigh exasperatedly before hearing his soft voice grace your ears from across the room.

“I don't kill people, y/n.” he sounded slightly sad, and you then felt bad about assuming something so terrible of him. “the only time I kill is when my instincts become too much to control, and I snap.” his head hung low, but he quickly added. “but I’ve never actually killed a person, even if my instincts were screaming at me to.”

you tried to wrap your mind around what his wolf instincts were like; he only briefly touched on that topic earlier, seeming like he didn't want to talk about it too much. you being yourself, of course you had to pry.

“so like, what you’re saying is,” you started, your hand cupping your chin in thought as you pondered over your thoughts. “that if you were to like, hypothetically, snap right now and go all feral, you would want to kill me?” the question came out inflected as a statement, but you nonetheless awaited his answer patiently as you took in the sight of his face going through about five different emotions in the short span of a couple seconds.

“I don’t think…” he trailed off, looking down at the floor while clenching his fists. “I don’t think killing you would be my first instinct,” he looked up at you, his eyes blazing a slight yellow again as he seemingly stared into your soul. “...if you catch my drift.”

at first you were completely confused, not sure what other instincts he could express while being feral, but then it all clicked and it had your body heating up at the thought.

“oh.” you simply retorted, your eyes glazing over at the implication of him pinning you down and taking you as he pleased. “oh, fuck. you’re fuckin’ serious?”

his eyes were dark as he drank you in, his nostrils flaring slightly as he subtly sniffed the air between the both of you. dear god, you hoped that he couldn’t smell the sudden arousal that consumed you. you watched his eyes glow into a bright yellow and you felt your instincts screaming at you to run, but you held his gaze as he let a low growl escape his mouth.

“y/n,” he said, low and strained as he tried to fight his animal instincts. “you need to leave if you don’t want this, right now.” his words were final, no room for questioning.

you briefly tried to think it over; what would actually happen if you stayed and let him have you? you could probably die, first and foremost, but you shook that thought away even though it was a very real and serious possibility. you couldn’t deny your arousal at the whole thing, being taken like a bitch in heat by a guy you’ve been thirsting over for a while now. you may not get the chance to fuck a werewolf again, so you quickly made your decision.

“I’m…” you trailed off, dragging your gaze down to his neck and collarbones where you could make out the sweat forming on his perfect skin. “I’m staying, jeno.” you spoke softly to him, watching his brow furrow in confusion before smoothing out again.

you made your way to him and he stiffened up, watching your every move like a predator as you tentatively stopped in front of his panting form. reaching a hand up, you caressed his face, your breathing shaky as you leaned in closer.

“you can have me, puppy.” you threw in the last little jab with that sudden nickname just for fun, your heart soaring at the sound of the deep growl he let out upon hearing it. you fought the smile off your face as he practically pounced on you, pushing you over to the bed and pinning your body underneath his in one swift movement.

“I’m a puppy, huh?” he questioned darkly, his glowing eyes roaming over your face before his head dipped down to nose at your throat. you whimpered softly as his teeth nibbled on your sensitive skin, earning a satisfied growl from him.

you felt your shorts stick to your core from how insanely soaked you had become, and you grew hot at the idea of him pulling them down to find that you were, in fact, pantieless. he had your wrists pinned down against the mattress, not allowing you to touch him much to your annoyance. you tried to struggle against his supernaturally strong hold, but was met with a deep snarl in response. you immediately grew pliant underneath him out of pure instinct.

he pulled back, sharp canines prominent in his mouth as he fixed you with his glowing stare, red swirling with yellow in his bright irises.

“don’t fucking move,” he spat, his voice coming out low and gutteral, causing a flood of your own arousal to escape you down below. his nostrils flared for the second time that night, and he breathed in deeply at the scent of your wet and begging cunt. “be a good girl and take what I give you.”

the statement was final, and you barely had time to nod before he was tearing your t-shirt in two, biting the skin of your shoulder. his sharper teeth did not sink deep into your flesh, but when he drug the canines across your skin, you felt them rip you open. you let out what could be considered a poorly concealed scream, but it came forth as more of a moan as you felt hot blood trickle down your arm.

your shirt was in ribbons, and he looked extremely pleased as he took in the beautiful sight of your naked breasts, no bra in his way. he watched as your chest heaved up and down in anticipation, and he released your wrist to gently trail both of his hand over your body.

“your tits are so pretty,” he murmured, diving down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. he worked your other boob with one of his hands, kneading it and flicking your sensitive nipple.

your back arched into his touch, and you tried your best to stay as quiet as possible in fear of your brother hearing you.

he suckled hard; nibbling your nipple and dragging his teeth along it, causing shivers to run up your spine and your core to clench around nothing. your shorts were without a doubt ruined at this point.

your nails scratched down his back and he continued to ravage your chest, alternating between both of your breasts and teasing your sensitive buds with no remorse. it felt like hours of play, but eventually he pulled back to roughly grip the fabric of your shorts and tear them down your legs, exposing your dripping core to his hungry eyes.

you whined as he stared at you, reaching your arms out towards his own pants, wanting to see his cock again now that you were laying there, desperate and pouting for it.

his eyes shot to your face, smirking as he watched your brow furrow and your lips purse, your hands trying to grab at him from your place on the bed.

he didn’t allow you to pull his shorts down for him; instead he hooked his own thumbs in the waistband and pulled them down slowly, exposing his cock inch by inch before it finally sprung out, slapping against his stomach proudly.

your mouth watered at the sight of him once again and you moved to try to sit up, but didn’t get very far. he grasped your non-bleeding shoulder and roughly shoved you against the mattress once again, not saying anything. the stare he gave you oozed enough dominance for you to clearly get the message that he was trying to send.

jeno didn’t waste any time spreading your thighs open, two of his fingers immediately swiping through your embarrassingly wet slit before easing inside your tight hole. the stretch burned at first, considering he was starting you off with two fingers instead of one, but you welcomed the slight pain that mixed with the pleasure of him reaching up with his thumb to graze over your throbbing clit.

jeno thrusted his fingers into you gently at first, gradually picking up the pace as he went along. before you knew it he was adding a third finger, stretching your more than you’ve been stretched before.

you gasped at the feeling, your back arching off the bed as you cried out while he started finger fucking you with earnest.

“shhh, baby,” he said quietly, his movements never ceasing. “just gotta open you up for me, make sure you can take my knot.”

you held back another moan at that, thinking of how his cock would stretch you open, and how full you would feel with his knot nestled inside you.

he abruptly pulled his fingers from you, causing your back to arch again as you protested the loss of stimulation. his strength amazed you, and with one hand on your belly he pinned you down completely, sucking on the fingers of his other lewdly while stating you in the eyes.

after licking his fingers clean, (which caused heat to crawl it’s way down your belly), he kissed you sloppily on the mouth once again before gripping your waist and roughly flipping you over onto your knees.

your chest was flush against the mattress as well as your face, and your hips were lifted high in the air and you could feel the heat radiating off of him as he positioned himself behind you.

his nails drug down your sides and he gripped one of your hips with his hand, using his other to position himself at your leaking entrance. you wiggled your hips in anticipation, whining as he drug the head through your folds before slowly sinking inside you.

your fingers gripped the pillows as he bottomed out, his knot already slowly forming at the base of his shaft. it stretched you ever so slightly at the entrance of your core, and you whimpered out in pleasure as he started thrusting in and out.

the small form of his knot caught on your entrance with each precise thrust, and you were finding it very difficult to stay quiet. jeno’s breaths were heavy and every so often he would let out a soft growl as he felt his tip pound gently into your cervix.

your small whimpers were short and staggered, escaping your mouth with each thrust, which spurred him on to create a faster and harsher pace. he leaned over your back and didn’t relent as his cock punished you pussy, and when you let out a cry that was just a little bit too loud, he shoved your face right into your pillow to silence you.

“shut up,” he panted, a rumble low in his chest following his words. “just fucking take it.”

you nodded your head in response to the best of your ability, biting your lip to keep quiet as the presence of his hand left the back of your head.

he seemed to be getting close now, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge as well. it was uncommon for you to cum without any clitoral stimulation, and you were amazed at his ability to reach all of the most pleasurable spots inside you.

you felt your stomach tightening up and you gasped sharply when you felt his cock press right against your sweet spot, making you reach your high almost instantly.

you clamped around him, barely registering that he buried himself completely inside you and was now stretching you to the max with his fully developed knot. the pain of the stretch only intensified your orgasm, which had you screaming into your pillow to muffle your cries of ecstasy.

jeno growled loudly as he came shortly after, biting the back of your neck aggressively and painting your walls with his cum, emptying completely inside of you while his knot kept a single drop from escaping.

he withdrew his teeth from you, surprised that it didn’t break your skin, and gently moved the two of you to lay on your sides as you basked in the afterglow of what just occurred.

your chest heaved as you fought to catch you breath, you pussy still stretched to its limit as you laid with him. you reached an arm around to caress his face, a small show of affection as you smiled in bliss.

after catching your breath, you sat in silence for a bit, just bathing in each other’s warmth, before you had to go and open your big mouth again.

“so your knot is supposed to like, plug me up?” you questioned, your voice still sounding slightly out of breath as you panted. “to make sure I get like, hypothetically, pregnant or whatever?”

he groaned in response and gripped your hips tightly, his hips bucking and causing his still painfully hard cock to sharply jab against your sensitive insides, making you yelp.

“dear god, y/n,” he whined, his nails digging into your skin. “don’t say things like that, fuck.”

“oh, so you like that idea?” you teased, turning your head to try to look at him to the best of your ability considering your current position. “fucking me full of babies?”

his eyes stared down at you intensely, the color of his irises brightening up as he growled lowly at you. he suddenly gripped your hips and turned you both over, his body completely laying on your own as you were pressed against the mattress on your stomach.

“keep talking, y/n,” he growled out lowly, his hips pressing tightly against your ass, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. “I’ll fuck you again right now, and give you my fucking babies.”

he couldn’t see you, but you smiled contently, preparing yourself for another intense round with this beast of a man. there was a small chance that you would actually get pregnant, considering the IUD you had…but the thought of it had you ready to go at it again.

in some fucked up way, you were content with this, and you threw your hips up to grind back against him, grinning even wider as he pinned your body down even harder.

jeno fucked you like an animal until the sun came up, and your brother was none the wiser.

[piccolina-mina]

Our girl is thriving this season, but what the fuck is this Wyatt plot? I need your thinks about this one. I just knew you'd be six posts in on this by now. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

*sighs* For fk's sake, nonny. I don't even like talking about it because I get ranty.

What do you want me to say? Honestly, everything you can imagine I would feel about this, you're probably right. Because you know, I'm that b*tch always getting ranty about racism and stuff.

In short, I hate it. I think it's unnecessary, tone-deaf, random, pointless, lowkey offensive, and illogical. I legitimately find it triggering AF. And it doesn't make sense.

It's Unnecessary. There is a fraction of a chance that it will connect to something more significant, but even if that's the case, I'm confident that end result or connection could've taken place without this random reform racist Wyatt storyline. This series has struggled enough as it is properly utilizing all of its primary characters as well as providing them with decent screentime and arcs. It literally makes no sense to spend any of that time that could be used elsewhere on primary characters on a recurring guest star.

This isn't actually about Rosa, it's about Wyatt. Following up on the previous point, this specific arc caters to Wyatt. Revolves around Wyatt. Rosa is just a passive participant and vessel for this Wyatt storyline. So again, the arc itself is about a recurring character. At least when they did something similarly bringing back Cam to siphon time and arcs away from its main cast they found ways to implement it better and tied her to multiple main characters, so it wasn't a total waste.

The intended Wyatt/Rosa parallel is illogical. I know what they're intending to do with this storyline, drawing parallels between Rosa's experience coming back from the dead after ten years and trying to make sense of that and atone for things before and having this second chance to make things right and go down the right path and so forth and Wyatt losing his memory and his racist ways and having to reconcile with who he was to who he can be and all of that. I understand the concept they're trying to sell. It just doesn't work. Rosa's addiction is not equivalent to Wyatt's racism and violence. Her mental illness isn't either. It's dangerous to invite the comparasions with this storyline.

It's not successful redemption. True redemption is Wyatt knowing and remembering his actions and then trying to atone for them. It's not the convenience of amnesia wiping out his memory only giving him distance from his actions rather than really facing up to them. Because of the amnesia, to Wyatt, it's like he's hearing about another person. It's a cop out. He doesn't Actually have to do the work to redeem himself or atone or learn or grow. IF we're supposed to compare it to Rosa, she knew what she did and remembers and knows how she hurt her loved ones or whatever and she's actively trying to make amends for that as part of her program... a program that Wyatt isn't working or anything BTW.

They've contradicted themselves too much and are rewriting their own work and thus twisting everything up just to make this storyline work and it still doesn't. The timeline is all fkd up... what they established already all of it..The Longs were racist before Kate's death. Kate was racist. To suggest that a 10+ amnesiac blackout clean slates and erases all of Wyatt's racism is just wrong. As in it literally doesn't even make any sense. That is not how the amnesia works but they keep playing both sides of it trying to make it work. To sell us what they're claiming, he would have to have ALL of his memories wiped and have forgotten who he was completely.

Wyatt is behaving like he's shocked by racism in this town but they're also trying to argue that he was born into it. Wyatt was surrounded by racists and his friends come from racist families but he's acting like the very concept of him ever being ingratiated in it is some huge surprise. Wyatt looks affronted by things like Confederate flags. Wyatt being steeped in and surrounded by racism predates his amnesia period.

Kyle mentioned that line about Wyatt putting Whites Only on water fountains, and it sounded like a school prank. It also sounded like something Kyle was reminding Rosa of as if she was alive when that incident happened. Therefore, Wyatt was doing racist stuff before she died. Kyle would've been out of school by then so how else would he know that or why would he bother retaining it?

IF Wyatt and Rosa really were friends before (which holy retcon), then it makes no real sense that he would get psychopathically angry about his "friend" who does drugs getting into a car accident with his sister who does drugs. He would've mourned them both not jumped to severe racism and violence. But both he and Jasmine's family (who are MIA for all of this) did that... jumped to racism. So was Wyatt indoctrinated by his family or indoctrinated by message boards and shit? And if Wyatt and Rosa were friends than why was Kate such a racist bitch to Rosa?

They're backdrafting history JUST to make this storyline that we don't need with a character who isn't even a main one to work.

By not actually addressing that Wyatt has to unlearn racism and giving him an out through amnesia, there is the very realistic issue of that latent racism to come out at any given time. What happens when he's drunk? What happens when he's really angry at a POC?

Tying Wyatt's redemption with his clear affection for Rosa is again dangerous and irresponsible. I know we would all like to think that love is the way and through love it can heal racism, but that puts the responsibility on the disenfranchised person to be "lovable." Because if Wyatt WAS friends with Rosa once then that means the second Rosa did something unlovable she was just another *insert racist slur of choosing* right? It means that there's a possibility that if his feelings for Rosa dwindle or things go sideways in some way there's a chance that he could revert back to those racist ways. Loving Rosa(linda) and pinning all of his wanting to be better on her because of her makes his actively learning to be anti-racist conditional. Right now he's not doing this for him. He's doing it because of Rosa.

This entire storyline has placed the burden of forgiveness on Rosa, his victim. Without him ever having to actually make amends. It's this turn the other cheek BS that means there's nothing too big or harmful that can't result in forgiveness. It relies on Rosa and all that she represents to extend an inhumane level of mercy and grace to their tormentor and oppressor that was never once extended to them. It's such a consistent and problematic thing projected on disenfranchised parties that ONLY benefits the majority and makes them feel good. It's a narrative of meeting someone halfway when the playing field was uneven and the minorities are in actuality doing more work and making a longer trek. Halfway and meeting in the middle only works if both sides were even. They are not. It's the reaching across the aisle both sidesms when one side was clearly and actively more harmful than the other and than calling that peace and equity. It is not.

This storyline was meant to scintillate some viewers with this "what if" notion and teach others a meaningful lesson or be this poorly thought out gateway to exploring a complex storyline but it came at the expense of other demographics who actively have to deal with racist crap. And because of their problematic approach what is simply "just entertainment" to some who has the luxury of not having to think about it beyond that, is just gross and insanely triggering and uncomfortable to others. The others who deal with the reality of the subject at hand.

They wrote themselves into a corner with Wyatt so trying to dig him out of that no matter the cost or logic is absurd. This storyline could've worked better if Wyatt's racism didn't also include conscious, constant, extreme violence. But they spent all of this time making Wyatt the face of violent racism and now are trying to redeem him with no real effort. He wasn't just using slurs or making microaggressions. He wasn't some insensitive or aloof white person. He is a murderer. He has killed people. He technically murdered Liz in cold-blood. He knew she was in the crashdown when he shot up the place. The lights were still on. He beat up Arturo so badly he nearly killed him well after his friends even stopped. He attacked and intended to kill Rosa. And his handiwork was a constant thing, enough for Jenna to comment on it. And now we're supposed to ignore all of that because he has amnesia and has puppy dog eyes?

The fact that we can entertain (and for some succeed) Wyatt in all of his hot white dudeness' redemption after everything he has done slips into the inherent racism of society in the first place and is enraging. Because systemically and culturally and inherently society will bend over backwards to find a way to absolve a hot white guy no matter his actions. Flint and Noah couldn't get this type of redemption... So their intended storyline about evolving from racism STILL plays into the racist structures set up in society.

And because some people like it, there's this slippery territory of NO everyone who genuinely enjoys this aren't racist for enjoying it. But yes, this entire storyline and how it is playing out is at the very least racially insensitive.

In order for this storyline to work they would actually have to show Wyatt doing the work. They don't have enough time to dedicate to such a delicate storyline. It's been a C and D filler storyline with 45 second to a minute scenes. That's not enough time to explore this properly. We would've needed to see Wyatt returning home from the hospital. We would've needed to see Wyatt with his friends and it not feeling right and his discomfort. We would've needed to see Wyatt going through his yearbook and googling himself and the horror and disgust he felt. We would need to see this through his eyes. But we didn't have the time for that and we wouldn't have anyway because he's not a main character. We only get Wyatt through Rosa's eyes and they haven't even dedicated enough time to that for it to work. Rosa isn't conflicted at all. She didn't struggle to forgive him. She was reduced to a school girl with a crush and an insane level of grace and they just threw that at us with no buildup whatsoever. I don't know where Rosa's head is and how she got to this to place. Not really. And the only thing working about this is the chemistry between two actors who are allegedly dating so of course there's chemistry.

It literally feels like another instance of a favorite actor being shoehorned into a storyline just for the hell of it. Just because they didn't want to let Dylan go or something. Just to give him something else to do.

[justinhubbell]

I was listening to the Dead Meat Podcast (a horror podcast on youtube or wherever you get your podcasts) and found the latest episode is on Godzilla 1954! It's a really great dive into the culture surrounding the original movie's release and I was reminded of your love for Goji, so thought I'd shoot you a recommendation 💚

Oh no...not again...

I have a joke about Godzilla that I often tell, and though that is how it’s meant to be taken (as a joke) it rings true for me. Ready?

In total there are 32 Godzilla movies, and one of them is good.

Now before you get your breeches in a bunch hear me out. This fact doesn’t lessen the Godzilla franchise by any means. In fact—if anything—it strengthens it. What other movie can you possibly name with 31 sequels? There is none.

Every Godzilla fan knows that the point of these movies was not to best the original 1954 “Gojira,” but to make stacks on stacks on stacks on stacks...

...with the consequence being that all other Godzilla movies are more or less delightfully campy. In other words, bad.

When Gojira was made Toho Studios—and the Japanese economy at large—was hanging on by a thread. With Gojira they had lightning in a bottle and you better believe they C A P I T A L I Z E D on that -ish! But make no mistake...

Gojira 1954 is the best Godzilla movie ever made.

In no other Godzilla movie is the loss of human life taken so seriously. In no other Godzilla movie are the ramifications of nuclear experimentation presented with such deadly sobriety. This is not just a monster movie. It is a time capsule. It is—in my mind—a legitimate horror film. This movie is violent and the violence is not treated as entertainment.

THIS scene from Gojira makes me cry

THIS scene from Gojira makes me cry

The “Prayer for Peace” song by a children’s choir—you guessed it—makes me cry

[Note: Shinkichi‘s near-death rescue off the coast of Odo Island also makes me cry but I couldn’t find a still of it]

Make no mistake at its core Gojira 1954 is a film about death.

In no other Godzilla movie do we HEAR the monster is before we SEE it and the reveal is I C O N I C

ICONIC ICONIC ICONIC. EYE. CON. ICK.

And BELIEVE me when I say that I haven’t even gotten to the film’s score yet and I’m not going to because HERE is my main point and I’m TURNING HEEL

When Godzilla 2014 was in the works [I was] thrilled like most people, but wary. As it turned out I think the “snub nosed thicc boi” design they came up with is pretty much excellent.

But when I saw the movie I was beside myself with ANGER when story implies that we (Americans) were testing nuclear weapons off of Japan not to kill people but a monster.

This revisionist history is heartless and insulting and we did it to the original film ALSO

Entire scenes from Gojira 1954 were stripped from the American release and replaced because of so-called “Anti-American sentiment.” I still have a place in my heart for the The Raymond Burr “adaptation” because—like so many before me—it was my first introduction to Godzilla. But for them to carry out the same crap in 2014 broke my heart and for this reason

I do not consider American Godzilla movies canonical in the slightest.

They are pro nuclear. They are pro military. They are anti history. We sacrifice TOO MUCH in the name of entertainment and frankly a line was crossed with me that can’t be undone. And If I sound like a stick in the mud I don’t give a damn. HEEL TURN.

NEVER forget that Legendary tried to kill Hideaki Anno and Shinji Higuchi‘s “Shin Gojira”

They wanted us to ONLY watch their version. They made it DIFFICULT to watch that movie in theaters! You might have missed it! and so it was ESPECIALLY delicious when despite American Capitalist tampering Shin Gojira went on to be one of (if not the) highest grossing Godzilla movie since King Kong vs Godzilla 1962 (please don’t get me started on this movie) HALLELUJAH HOLY SHIT WHERE'S THE TYLENOL!!!!!

[imagineteller1]

Horror Night

Warnings: language, gore.

Pairings: Daryl x reader x Negan.

My heart felt heavy on my chest. I choked in every breath I took. I watched, what used to be Abraham, crushed in the floor. Everything was ringing. The tears blinding my vision.

Negan talked but I didn't pay attention, I couldn't. He was in front of Rosita, trying to get her to see the bloody bat of the man she loved. In a second, Daryl took a swing at Negan.

"Daryl! No!" I screamed and ran towards him, my hands extended in an attempt to grab him. Before I could reach him, some of Negan's men were already holding me down as well as Daryl.

"No!" Negan yelled pointing his bat at Daryl. "That- oh," he chuckled. "That is a no no. The whole thing, not one bit of that shit flies here." He now kneeled in front of me. His rough hand was pulling on my chin to look up at him. "Brave little thing here, eh?"

I pulled my face away from his grasp. He stood back up. A blonde man held Daryl's crossbow at his face.

"You want me to kill him? Right here?"

"No!" I screamed. Trashing my body in the men's grip, I kicked around.

"Hey! Hey, what part of staying quiet do you not get?" Negan turned to me with his bat.

"Please, please, don't kill him. I'm begging you." I sobbed and I felt like I couldn't breath. My breath was stuck in my throat. I felt like I was having a panic attack. When I started shaking more violently I knew I was. My limbs felt as if they weren't there. I felt heavy but at the same time lite.

I heard Negan say something and then Daryl was thrown back in line. He approached me and kneeled back down. I tried to push the men away but they just gripped tighter. "I c-an't brea-th." I stuttered.

"What did you say again, darlin'"

"I-I can't br-eath." He signalled his men and I was dropped. My palms were on the ground as I tried to calm down. My chest heaved violently as I gasped for air. I felt like I was drowning.

"Holy fucking shit, she is having an attack." He joked.

New tears reamed down my face and fell to the dirt. This could be it. I looked at Daryl. He was looking at me, I saw a tear flow down his cheek. He tried to walked towards me but he was pushed down.

I closed my eyes and tried to calm my breathing. Deep breaths. I could feel the oxygen make its way to my lungs. I heard Daryl's voice telling me to calm down like he had done countless of time, but in difference, he wasn't holding me this time.

After what felt like hours I opened my eyes and felt like I could breathe again.

"Still with us, doll?" Negan asked jokingly. "Both of you are so impulsive, not surprised you two are fucking." He took my face in his hand forcefully.

I glared up at him and he chuckled. "Get her back in line." Like that I was thrown in my back and dragged to where I had been kneeling before.

"Anyway... that's not how it works. Now, I already told you people, first one's free. Then what did I say, I said I would shut that shit down." He had a maniac smile on his face. "No exceptions. Now I don't know what kind of lying assholes you've been dealing with, but I'm a man of my word. First impressions are important." Short silence. "I need you to know me. So, back to it."

In a second Negan's bat connected with Glenn's head. I blinked a few times. Not being able to believe this was really happening. We had just lost two of the strongest men of our group in a couple of minutes. I looked at Maggie and saw her sobbing.

I looked back at Glenn. You could see his skull and one of his eyes was bulging out of its socket.

My heart was beating out of my chest and I could hear every beat thumping.

"Buddy, you still there?" Negan asked mockingly. He muttered something and then exclaimed. "You are trying to speak! But you just took a hell of a hit. I just popped your skull so hard your eyeball just popped out. This is as gross as shit."

"Maggie I-I'll find yo-u." Glenn finally was able to mutter out.

"Oh, hell." Negan spoke. His voice was calm and serious. Like he actually felt sorry. "I can see this is hard, amiga. I am sorry. I truly am. But, I did say..." a smile now played in his lips. "No exceptions." He swinged at Glenn again. I jumped back in place.

No, no, no.

"You bunch of pussies... I'm just getting started. Lucille is thirsty." He kept hitting and hitting. There was nothing left to hit yet he kept swinging his bat. After he got tired he stepped away and joked. "She is a vampire bat."

The only sound was Negan's boot and our cries.

"What? Was the joke that bad?"

Rick looked up from his spot with a trembling yet determined look in his eyes. "I'm gonna kill you."

"What? I didn't quite catch that. You're gonna have to speak up." Negan mocked.

"Not today... not tomorrow... but I'm gonna kill you."

"Jesus," Negan scoffed. "Simon, what did he have? Knife?"

"He had a hatchet."

"Hatchet?" He smiled.

"An axe."

Negan laughed. "Simon, is my right hand man. Having one of those is important. I mean, what do you have left without 'em. A whole pile of work. You have one? Maybe one of these fine people still breathing. Oh, or did I-" he made a clock sound with his tongue.

Rick remained silent. Negan sighed. "Sure, yeah. Give me his axe."

Who I believed was Simon, stepped up with axe in hand and gave it to Negan. He stood up and grabbed Rick by the shoulder. "We'll be right back, maybe Rick will be with me. If not, well we can just turn these people's inside out. I mean, the ones that are left."

With that he shut the trailer's door closed and drove away.

I looked at Daryl. He was shaking. His gunshot wound could get infected with all the trauma his body was going through right now. I went to stand up but was held in place.

"I'm not gonna do anything. You have all of our weapons, what could I do?" I tried to reason with the men.

"You stay on your knees, bitch. Unless you want to end up like your friends over there." He signalled to the bodies that laid on the floor. With a thud I sat back in the ground, pulling my legs to my chest.

--

Hours had passed and the sun had come up when the trailer came back. No one came out for a couple of minutes. The air was full of tension as we hoped to see Rick still alive. When the door finally opened, Rick was pushed to the ground and Negan came out, he dragged Rick back to us.

"Here we are. Let me ask you something, Rick. You even know what that little trip was about?"

Rick remained silence.

"Speak when you're spoken to."

"Okay... okay."

"That trip was about the way you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand. But you're still looking at me the same damn way... like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that's not gonna work." He paced around and then kneeled next to Rick. "So... do I give you another chance?"

"Yeah. Yes. Yes."

Patting Rick's shoulder he stood up. "Okay." He chuckled. "All right. And here it is- the grand prize game. What you do now will decide whether your crap day becomes everyone's last crap day or just another crap day. Get some guns to the back of their heads.”

Guns cocked from behind us.

"Good. Now... level with their noses, so if you have to fire..." he imitates an explosion. "It'll be a real mess."

Silence.

"Kid." He said looking at Carl. "Right here." He pointed to the ground beside Rick. Carl was frozen in place. "Kid... now." Carl took slow steps. Negan took of his belt. "You a southpaw?"

"Am I a what?"

"You a lefty?"

"No."

"Good." He smiled as he took Carl's arm and tied the belt around it, cutting the circulation. "That hurt?"

"No."

"Should. It's supposed to." He finished tying the belt. "All right. Get down on the ground, kid, next to daddy. Spread them wings." He took Carl's hat off.

Carl did as told. "Simon, you got a pen?"

"Yeah." He threw it at Negan. He took of the cap with his teeth and kneeled next to Carl.

"Sorry, kid. This is gonna be as cold as a warlock's ballsack, just like he was hanging his ballsack above you and dragging it across the forearm." We all watched in horror as Negan drew a line in Carl's arm. "There you go. Gives you a little leverage."

"Please. Please. Please don't. Please don't." Rick begged.

"Me?" Negan chuckled. "I ain't doing shit." He stood up. "Ah. Rick, I want you to take your axe... cut of your son's left arm off, right on that line. Now I know- I know. You're gonna have to process that for a second. That makes sense. Still, though, I'm gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die. Then Carl dies, then the people back home die... and then you, eventually. I'm gonna keep you breathing for a few years, just so you can stew on it."

"You- you don't have to do this. We understand. We understand." Michonne spoke.

"You understand. Yeah. I'm not sure Rick does." He advertido his attention back to Rick. "I'm gonna need a clean cut right there on that line. Now, I know this is a screwed up thing to ask, but it's gonna have to be like a salami slice- nothing messy, clean, forty five degrees- give us something to fold over. We got a great doctor. The kid'll be fine. Probably. Rick this needs to happen now- chop, chop- or I will crush the little fella's skull myself."

"Please, we all understand. Rick understands. We all work for you, stop this. You don't need to prove a point because you already did." I tried. This was my family. I wasn't gonna stay quiet and not try anything. My arms pointed at the fallen bodies.

I felt a gun press against the back of my head.

"It can- it can- it can be me." Rick stuttered out. "It can be me. Y-you can do it to me. I c- I can go with- with you."

"No. This is the only way. Rick... pick up the axe." Rick didn't move. "Not making a decision is a big decision." Negan's voice raised. "You really want to see all these people die? You will. You will see every ugly thing." He still didn't move. "Oh, my god." He groaned. "Are you gonna make me count? Okay, Rick. You win. I am counting."

"Three!"

"Please." Rick cried out. "Please. It can be me. Please!"

"Two!" He kneeled next to Rick.

"Please, don't do-" Rick sobbed and I looked away.

"This is it."

Rick screamed. I shut my eyes closed. Tears running down my cheeks.

"One!"

"Dad... just do it. Just do it." I heard Carl whisper.

I looked back at the scene.

Rick held the axe high, preparing to cut his son's arm.

"Rick." Negan stopped him. "You answer to me. You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?" Rick nodded hastily. "Speak when you're spoken to!" Negan's voice beamed making everyone jump. "You answer to me. You provide for me."

"Provide for you." Rick answered shakily.

"You belong to me, right?!"

"Right." Rick breathed heavy.

"Right. That... is the look I wanted to see." He stood up and took the axe. "We did it... all of us, together... even the dead ones on the ground. Hell, they get the spirit award, for sure." He sighed. "Today was a productive damn day! Now, I hope, for all your sake... that you get it now... that you understand how this work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you... that is over now." He chuckled.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. "Ah, Dwight... load him up." He signalled to Daryl who struggled in, who I suppose was Dwight's, arms.

"What are you gonna do to him?" I asked. Trying to sound as strong as I could. Negan turned to me.

"How could I forget about you?" He took long yet calming strides towards me. "You, darlin', are coming with me too."

"Why?" I sounded more panicked than I wanted to.

"Because..." he smiled. "You've got a mouth on you and I really, really like it. Keeps me on my feet. I have a proposal for you..." he waited for my name.

"Lucia."

He smiled and licked his lips. "You hear that, Lucille? They sound similar... okay, Lucia. I have this proposal for you. You come with me, be one of my wives, and I, won't kill another one of your group, for your blabbing mouth. How does that sound, hm?"

Shock was written all over my face. "It's your choice, Lucia. Either you come with me or... I kill another one of your friends. So, what will it be?" He passed his finger along my jawline. I looked at the truck where Daryl was in.

Maybe, if I went with him I could find a way to help Daryl escape. I looked around the group. I wasn't gonna let anyone else die, much less because of my fault.

"Okay." I said. Turning off all my emotions.

"Great." He smiled. "You and I are gonna have a lot of fun together." He licked his lips while scanning my body. "Fan-fucking-tastic. Simon, put her in my truck. I still have some words to say to our new pal Rick."

As Simon grabbed my arm and led me to a truck I looked back and saw Rick watching me. I gave him a slight nod with my head, telling him I had a plan.

I wrote this a some time ago but hadn’t posted it here. Requests are open ❤️

[witchygirl99]

A Plan Coming Together

Day 6 of the 12 Days of Witchyness

For @hikaricotta, part of @inusecretsanta. I hope you enjoy! It’s AU, and while I’ve never seen Sinbad or Atlantis (I’m a monster), I tried to keep with the theme of adventure :)

Summary: The gold Inuyasha and Koga would get for retrieving the legendary Jewel of Four Souls would make them rich beyond measure. But first, they needed a priestess to locate it. Then they found Kagome. Or rather, Kagome found them.

Rated: K+ (swearing)

Word Count: 5,254

“I hate you!”

“Not as much as I hate you!”

Inuyasha Taisho growled, leaping from the deck to the flailing ropes that had been torn from the rigging. He needed to secure them or they would undoubtedly be screwed. He flipped over the spar and dug his claws in as tight as he could to the mast, feet scrambling to gain purchase. It was only once he had stopped that he could tie the rigging back in place, a surge of water pounding on his back just seconds after he succeeded. “Where is the damn thing?”

“I don’t see it!” Koga Matsuno yelled back. “It’s gone under!”

“Then why am I being splashed?”

“Because you’re a dick!”

Growling, Inuyasha let himself fall back onto the main deck, where Koga stood at the ship’s wheel, trying to steer them towards their destination. He glared at him, drenched and cold. “You’re the worst.”

Koga’s lips pulled back, baring his canine teeth. “Right back at ya.”

“So mature.”

“You started it!”

The ship shuddered within the waves of the sea, and it was violent enough that both stumbled before looking at each other, anger gone.

“Crap,” Koga muttered, just as a massive water demon rose from the rough waters. It looked similar to a long, scale-ridden eel, its stout thin and beak-like. Multiple eyes – red, blood red eyes – bore down on them. It hissed and Inuyasha caught a flash of teal blue in his vision.

“I thought these waters were protected!” Inuyasha snapped, running as fast as he could to leap off of the ship. He took out his claws and attacked the tail of the sea demon before it could deal a blow to their transport. The demon shrieked and Inuyasha was caught up in the flap of its body, tossed viciously back onto the deck.

Koga ran towards him, stepping over his body before taking off to deal yet another below to the demon. The creature dove back into the water, black blood oozing into the sea. The wolf demon made a disgusted face at it. “Maybe the Goddess Suijin is gone. It has been a while since we’ve visited the Sacred City.”

“It’s been a year!”

Koga rolled his eyes. “Try four, idiot.” He offered a hand to the half-demon, giving him an unimpressed look when Inuyasha only scowled at him. “It’s going to come back.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Inuyasha muttered, taking his friend’s hand. Hauled up, the two of them took in their surroundings. Their ship was trapped in the middle of the sea, land far, far away. Their destination was still three days of sailing out. Other than the residual rocking of the waves, caused by the sudden diving of the water demon, it was quiet.

Too quiet.

Inuyasha crouched down, hand flexing. “It’s biding its time.”

“No duh,” Koga replied, but he too readied himself. “It clearly wants us dead. What the hell did we do to it?”

“Exist?” Inuyasha asked wryly. “Usually that’s why they hate me.”

Koga snorted, used to this. Having spent most of his teenage years and all of his adulthood beside the half-demon, the statement was only too true. Even he, in his youth, was biased until fate had intervened and put Inuyasha in his life in a way that couldn’t be revoked.

Irony from the Gods, surely.

“We need to fix the sails before we can move again.”

Inuyasha hummed. “We need to get rid of his asshole before it destroys our ship with us in it.”

“Do you—” But the question was lost as the sea rumbled, giving only a second’s worth of warning before the water demon burst forth, jaws open to reveal rows and rows of sharp, spindly teeth. “That’s not good,” Koga stated, before running at it. “We need a plan!”

“Since when do we ever have a plan?” Inuyasha exclaimed, leaping at it himself. The two of them went for its face, the water demon throwing them off each time they landed a blow. None of them were final, though the demon’s black blood slid down its scaled body. It snapped at Inuyasha, narrowly catching his leg before the half-demon swiped at its eye.

The demon cried out, shuddering.

“Not again, not this time!” Koga yelled out, knowing like Inuyasha did that it would attempt to disappear once more to regroup. They did not have all day to fight the monster; it needed to be ended, now. The wolf demon went for its snout, digging his claws into it. He went to slice it open but the demon, mindless and twitching without any pattern, bucked hard enough to send him flying into the air.

“Koga!” Inuyasha yelled, hanging on to the demon’s back and trying to get a foothold to run or jump or something—

But it was too wild, too strong. With Koga flying, the water demon saw its chance and opened its great, toothy jaw, snapping up his friend in one bite.

“Koga!” Inuyasha screamed, thrown from the demon’s back. He twisted himself enough to land on the deck, feet bracing before he pounced again. Koga had been eaten. Koga was in that thing. The water demon was going to disappear and—

He leapt at its eyes, ignoring the disgusting feeling of his claws sinking into a mass he could never describe because damn, it was gross. But he was angry, pissed off that the demon ate his stupid, idiotic friend who was honestly the worst person in the world but his worst person in the world and—

The creature bucked, screamed and Inuyasha could only hold on for so long before he had to get off, fear of being tossed into the sea and all hope being lost. He flew back, golden eyes watching as the water demon twitched and shuddered.

But this time it was different.

It seemed almost as if it was curling in on itself, face inching down without diving below the surface. It screamed, a cry far different than any Inuyasha had heard. He braced himself on the deck, leapt to the mast to attack, when suddenly the demon’s cry hit decibels that hurt every cell in his body. Inuyasha collapsed back to the ship’s deck, hands covering his dog-like ears on the top of his head, flattening them to his skull as he watched.

There was the undeniable sound of a rip, skin and sinew snapping, and then Inuyasha stared in horror as the rip grew, running upwards and upwards until the water demon’s face was next, exploding.

The cry bit off, vicious, but black oozing blood flew everywhere. He closed his eyes and that was when something hit him, hard and heavy, knocking the breath from his lungs.

There was only the sound of the waves pulling in thick, meaty chunks of the demon, and the waves the ruckus had caused. Their ship tilted dangerously back and forth, but Inuyasha could only open his eyes and stare at what had landed on him. Koga.

Thank the Gods. Inuyasha groaned and flopped back onto the wood, closing his eyes once more. Holy crap.

They stayed like that for a long, long time.

“You are the least comfortable person in the world,” Koga grumbled, lifting his head which had been on Inuyasha’s chest. “How are you this boney when all you do is eat enough for five people?”

“You don’t seem to be moving, you mangey wolf, so shut up.”

Koga groaned and smacked his head back down on Inuyasha’s chest.

The half-demon grimaced. “Thought you were dead.”

“Thing just swallowed me. Didn’t even take a bite,” Koga answered, words muffled. “So I managed to shred it from the inside. Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Not your worst.”

“That sounds almost like a compliment,” Koga stated, head perking up. “You were actually scared.”

“Nope. Relieved, actually, when I saw it ate you. I’d be rid of your annoying ass.”

“You were terrified.”

“Ecstatic.”

“Probably shaking in your boots.”

“Only because I was dancing as a thanks to the Gods for blessing me.”

Koga laughed then, rolling off so that he, too, was on his back on the deck. He glanced over at his friend. “You would’ve missed me.”

Sighing, Inuyasha didn’t even answer. He simply moved his arm to punch at Koga’s sternum, a weak thing that rested there after the hit. “I still hate you more than anything.”

“Right back at ya, mutt.” Koga closed his eyes to the sun.

X

According to the history books, the Sacred City was the very first settlement after the rise of the Great Goddess, Midoriko. Once a priestess for her village, she protected the band of humans against attacks from demons. Centuries ago, humans and demons lived with only hatred for each other. Humans feared and hated demons for their unnatural abilities, their looks, and stated that they were mutations of sin that the Gods had sent to test them. Demons pitied and despised the humans, for they were weak and took up resources already precious in that time.

There were battles, many lives lost on both ends. It wasn’t until the Great Goddess, Midoriko, sacrificed herself for the good of all to purge the world of evil that both ends convened and drew up a truce.

It wasn’t perfect. Centuries later, lands still held segregated areas of races, hating the others. But there were many more places like the Sacred City, in which humans and demons lived together in peace. The city was also home to the Shrine of Midoriko, which was where Inuyasha and Koga stood, watching with dull eyes as the tour guide droned on and on about some brick or other.

“I would rather be eaten by that demon again than listen to this,” Koga muttered darkly under his breath.

Inuyasha bit back a laugh, forcing his face into passivity when the tour guide looked directly at him. The woman moved on, and the half-demon smirked at his friend. “It’s not much longer.”

“This is the worst plan you’ve ever had.”

“Better than your non-existent plan because you’re too dumb to come up with one.”

Koga rolled his eyes but said nothing, jostled by the group surrounding them on the tour. They moved from room to room within the Shrine, a building that was more than just a place of worship. It held many areas dedicated to the preservation of history, learning, the sciences and a neutral ground for political conventions.

What they needed was to get into the library.

Their chance came after Koga complained at least three more times, the two of them sneaking off while the tour guide and the rest of their group was distracted by some artist doing a thing with a thing. They ducked under a rope and silently stalked down the halls, Inuyasha comparing their movements with the map in his hand before heading through a door.

“This is it,” Inuyasha whispered, eyes adjusting to the darkness. There were no lanterns or candles lit, so the shelves of books were shrouded. “Find the Forbidden History. We need that book to tell us where the legend says the Jewel is.”

“If there even is a Jewel,” Koga retorted, sorting through the books nonetheless. “Our buyer seems sure, but he also seems a kind of crazy. It’s a damn legend. No one has ever seen the Jewel before.”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes. They’d had this conversation a billion times before. “The legend had to come from somewhere, didn’t it? Have you forgotten how much damn gold he was willing to pay?”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Koga snapped with a hiss. “It just seems like a reach.”

“You’re a reach.”

“Moron,” the wolf demon muttered.

“I see you’re both looking for the Jewel of Four Souls.” The voice was female, unfamiliar, and far too close. Inuyasha whirled around, surprised at being so caught off guard. How could he not have noticed another scent in the room? How did Koga miss it?

But however it happened, there was another person with them. It was a woman, short and petite, covered head to toe in a dark brown garb. Only her dark eyes showed, a stark contrast to her pale, milky skin. In the darkness, he could tell very little else about her.

“Who are you?” Koga purred, a deception meant only to distract while he stepped closer to Inuyasha. Then again, the half-demon thought, it may not have been a deception at all. Koga wasn’t even tense, not ready to fight.

“Just a student,” the woman answered vaguely. “But of the three of us, I at least belong here. If I yelled for the guards, you’d both be thrown into the dungeons.”

Inuyasha hated these games. “But you haven’t, so what the hell do you want?”

“Nothing.” There was a pause, and the half-demon watched as the woman eyed them up and down, one body to the next. Inuyasha couldn’t tell for sure, but she was clearly examining them, determining what to do. They needed her to stay silent, which meant to keep her talking to them.

“We’re not stealing anything,” Inuyasha stated, crossing his arms defensively. “We just need to figure something out and we’ll be on our way.”

“The location of the Jewel of Four Souls,” the woman whispered, sounding almost reverent. It made him cringe. “I heard. You think the legend is true.”

“Offer enough gold and apparently anything can be true,” Koga said wryly. Inuyasha elbowed him in the ribs, hard. What a dick.

The woman laughed quietly. “Oh, the Jewel exists. It’s hidden on the Isle of Destruction, the resting place of the Great Goddess.”

The words caused Inuyasha to freeze. Surely it couldn’t be that easy? The Isle of Destruction was only a couple days away by ship, and not a dangerous path in the least. The Isle was barren, abandoned. If the Jewel was there, why had no one ever retrieved it? “You sound pretty sure of that,” Inuyasha pointed out, hesitant. “But it doesn’t make any sense.”

The woman hummed, touching at her headpiece like she intended to run her fingers through hair. “When the Great Goddess sacrificed herself, her soul ripped from her body and solidified on this plane of the living. Her soul has sat where her body was last seen.”

“On the Isle,” Koga finished, following along. “But why leave it there then? The more you talk, the less I believe it’s true.”

“Because no priestess has ever had an equivalent power to Midoriko, prior to ascending.” The woman shook her head. “The Jewel is pure power, energy from both a human priestess and a great, evil demon. Only like can call to like. Another priestess must find it.”

“And not a demon?”

“Your nature, your auras, are naturally repulsed by the purification a priestess’s power holds. So no, a demon could not find the Jewel. Not in its current form.”

Inuyasha scowled. “You seem to know an awful lot. Why not get it yourself?”

A pause, then the woman looked down to the ground. “I am only a student,” she said finally, like that answered everything. Maybe it did. “You should leave,” the woman urged. “There are guard rotations. You’ll be caught leaving soon if you don’t.”

“You’re awful helpful,” Koga noted, and there, there was that tension that Inuyasha was expecting.

“It’s not often I meet new people.”

That seemed to be all she was going to say so Inuyasha pushed and shoved at Koga, leading him from the room and back down the hallway. The woman was forgotten.

X

“You’re insane,” Inuyasha spat, hands fisted tight on his stein of drink. “You want to kidnap a priestess?”

“How are you backing out now?” Koga hissed, leaning in close so that they wouldn’t be overheard. “The legend appears to be true. The Isle is close. We find a priestess, bribe them with money. It’s a few days and we have enough silver to cover our passage and pay a sum. We find the location of the Jewel, let the priestess go and get our gold.”

“Let the priestess go? It still sounds like kidnapping!”

“We’re paying her; it’s not kidnapping.”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes. “Did you even remember? The priestess needs to be as powerful as the Great Goddess was when she was human. That’s not possible!”

“But it is.” Koga grinned then, canine teeth sharp and glinting in the firelight lanterns of the pub. “While we were separated getting supplies, I did some snooping.”

Groaning, Inuyasha buried his head in his hands. “Oh Gods, not again.”

“And two cycles from now, the city’s Great Priestess Kaede is stepping down. There’s a new priestess and she’s been said to have powers greater than anyone’s ever seen.”

“What’s her name?”

“No one knows,” Koga whispered. “Her powers showed at infancy. She’s been kept at the Shrine’s residency ever since.”

“This sounds like a legend less likely than the damn Jewel,” Inuyasha replied, eyes roaming around the room. No one seemed to be paying them any attention. “What makes you think that this priestess would even take our bribe?”

Koga laughed then. It was warm and familiar, but Inuyasha hated it too. He knew that laugh and it was always given when the wolf demon was about to win. “Because mutt, we can show her the world. Forget silver. We’ll give the priestess an opportunity of a lifetime: one cycle of freedom before she’s confined to the Shrine, in exchange for the location of the Jewel.”

“A priestess that powerful could just keep the Jewel for herself,” Inuyasha pointed out, but he could feel the plan slotting into place. “She could stop us.”

“She could stop me,” Koga stated and yes, his blue eyes were glinting. “But not you.”

The plan was coming together after all.

X

What seemed like a solid plan was actually nothing more than sheer dumb luck. Inuyasha recognized it for what it was because every time the two of them seemed to hit a road block while sneaking into the residency area of the Shrine, those road blocks just…disappeared.

Guards stationed where they shouldn’t have been? Suddenly called away.

Protection runes embedded into the ground? Another pathway was lit.

It made Inuyasha deeply suspicious, and he could tell Koga felt the same because of the way the wolf demon held himself. They crept from building to building, getting closer and closer to the centre. In planning, they knew that the Great Priestess, an old woman named Kaede, would be at the centre-most building. It stood to reason then that the next priestess in line, the one to take over in two cycle’s time, would be next to her.

It seemed like a good idea.

“Ready?” Koga whispered, hands linked to provide Inuyasha with a boost for a particular high window. A window that was hopefully into an empty room.

Inuyasha nodded. He took a few running steps before jumping onto Koga’s hand. The wolf demon helped launch him further into the air and Inuyasha made the windowsill easily, arm muscles keeping him in place as he crawled through. The room was dark and empty, so Inuyasha waited a moment to let his eyes adjust to the lighting. He needed to find the priestess, needed to do so in a way that couldn’t terrify her. Breaking and entering wasn’t exactly standard greeting material but since the priestess never left the residency, they had little other choice. It was why Inuyasha was going in and not Koga, despite the wolf demon being far more charming.

At least if the priestess tried to purify his ass, it wouldn’t kill him.

Hopefully.

It was only when his eyes adjusted that he noticed there was a strange flickering by the entryway. It was dull, barely there, but Inuyasha carefully moved forwards anyways. There was no noise that he could hear, no smells surrounding him. It was like a void, almost, like the person that lived there had no scent at—

“I was wondering how long it was going to take you.”

Inuyasha didn’t jump. He didn’t. He simply gripped the doorway a little harder than necessary. Maybe put a dent in the stone there. Maybe.

But that voice. Oh, but that voice was familiar. Inuyasha couldn’t help but feel incredibly, horribly played. “You.”

“Me.” The woman from the library was seated in a small, soft-looking cushion. She was dressed simply in a farmer’s attire, loose beige pants and a white top. Her hair was long and midnight black, darker even than the shade of her eyes, a rich chocolate brown. Despite the appearance, her voice didn’t lie. “Took you long enough.”

“You’re the priestess,” Inuyasha stated, cocking a brow.

“I’m the priestess.” She nodded and smiling, soft and small. “My name is Kagome.”

He didn’t feel comfortable giving out his name but nothing about her screamed a threat. Actually, he couldn’t get anything off of her at all. It was just like back in the library, but he’d been so distracted by her words he hadn’t thought about it.

“When you’re like me, you don’t give away things that would make another living being notice you,” Kagome stated softly, understanding crossing her features. “My aura protects me from humans and demons alike.”

“Why the hell would you tell us about the Jewel?” Inuyasha asked, uneasy. This felt like a trap and the fact that her aura hid her true intentions made a churning deep in his gut. “You knew we’d come.”

“I hoped,” Kagome answered. She stood up then, slowly and with her hands out. “I want to find the Jewel. I want to bring it back where it belongs, here. And you and your friend are going to take me.”

“Well that’s dumb,” Inuyasha couldn’t help but reply. “Because we have a buyer for the Jewel and it sure as hell ain’t you.”

“I can pay you far more than your buyer can,” Kagome lured. “And if you want to go down the moral path, it’s the right thing to do.”

“We’re getting paid in gold.”

“I assumed.”

“A lot of gold.”

Kagome smiled again but there was nothing soft about it. “Don’t mistake me for some dumb, helpless girl. I know.”

Inuyasha huffed. “Going to pay me with the Shrine’s money? Don’t seem exactly moral,” he spat out.

“My own.” Kagome shrugged then, face scrunching. “Or as much as you can call it my own. A stipend I receive to live within the Sacred City. I spend very little of it because of my training. It’s grown significantly, over the years. Help me get the Jewel and I’ll pay you for it. Handsomely.”

Inuyasha glared at her, trying to read anything off of her. But whether it was her aura or the actual truth, the woman seemed genuine. He sighed, swearing under his breath. Koga was going to murder him. “Fine. But answer one thing for me.”

“Whatever you want.”

“Why the hell couldn’t you have done this before? The Shrine has enough power. Why not send a search party yourselves?”

Kagome nodded, like she expected the question. “Over the last few decades, the Shrine has tried and failed. Funds for these expeditions were significant for the large party that was sent, all of it gone to waste. Now that they have a priestess strong enough to find it, they’re scared. These expeditions are always fraught with danger, rebels who wish to kill priestesses in control. Sending me out would be a mark upon my head no one could protect me from.” She smiled then. “But if we go without permission…”

“We’ll be hunted,” Inuyasha hissed, eyes wide with surprise. “Are you crazy?”

“By the time they find me gone, we’ll be far ahead of them and no one will know our destination.” Kagome didn’t seem concerned and that alone concerned him. “Trust me.”

“I barely know you.”

Kagome nodded again, but she put on her slippers and hefted a yellow-toned stuffed pack onto her back. “But you can trust me.”

And damn it, but he felt like he could. Koga was definitely going to kill him. Growling, Inuyasha made up his mind and crouched down. “Get on my back. We’ll go out the way I came in.”

She did so, the warmth of her body surprising him. “We’ll need to exit carefully,” she murmured. “If I’m seen, they’ll know.”

“And we’ll be extra screwed, yeah, I got it,” Inuyasha groused, hefting her up and heading back towards the window. He peeked out of it, spotting Koga hiding low by a nearby bush. The wolf demon had eyes on him immediately and it took everything Inuyasha had not to grimace.

Definitely murdered.

He leapt from the window, trying to stick close to the wall to control the landing. For her part, Kagome didn’t scream or even tense up. She just held on, thighs locked around his hips. Upon landing, Koga was on them. He seemed almost surprised to see Kagome, despite the fact that that was the plan all along.

“We good?” Koga asked, eyeing the half-demon.

Inuyasha nodded, letting the girl slide off of his back. “Meet Kagome.”

“Pleasure,” she responded and Inuyasha watched as realization dawned on Koga’s face exactly who she was. Alarm flickered across his expression. Reaching out to punch him in the shoulder, the half-demon tried to convey with a glare everything that needed to be conveyed. They’d been in much worse situations before and had come out the other side, maybe pretty damaged but ultimately alive. This was nothing in comparison.

“You are explaining this when we get on the ship,” Koga hissed.

“Looking forward to it,” he drawled, expressing that he was anything but.

“We need to go,” Kagome pressed then, touching him on the shoulder.

At first, it all seemed fine. The pathway they marked was clear. Every once and a while they had to give pause, letting a rotation of guards or other staff of the Shrine walk by. They hid in bushes and building crevices.

Of course, it all had to go wrong eventually.

“Excuse me!”

Inuyasha tensed. Please Gods, no.

“Excuse me! Can you help me with this?” a woman asked from behind them, sounding strained.

“Don’t stop,” Kagome urged, voice hushed, but it was far too late. Koga had turned and even in the dark of night, the firelit markers along the path were enough to showcase that what the wolf demon was wearing didn’t match remotely close to the uniforms of the Shrine workers.

The woman gasped and before either Inuyasha or Koga could react, Kagome was running.

“Follow her,” Inuyasha hissed, chasing after the black-haired woman. The Shrine workers was screaming behind them, alerting the guards. An alarm rose, the sound of bells clanging angrily above them.

“Don’t stop!” Kagome called but Inuyasha had no idea where she was going.

The smell of demons were closing in on them, guards working for the Shrine trapping them. They needed to split up if there was any hope of escaping.

Koga was already looking at him, blue gaze shrewd. They’d been in enough tight situations to know the drill. “Don’t you dare get caught,” the wolf demon exclaimed.

“You either, asshole.”

Koga barked out a laugh but then he peeled off, and Inuyasha was left to chase down Kagome, who was taking a path they hadn’t planned on. Inuyasha knew where they needed to meet, but they first had to get out of the residency.

“Where are you going?” Inuyasha accused.

“Trust me!”

“This doesn’t—” But he was cut off when Kagome made a sharp turn, down some kind of alley that was covered in bags and waste. The black-haired girl raced to the corner and then stopped, pressing herself tight against the wall.

“The smell will cover us a bit,” she explained, eyeing the alleyway’s entrance. “How many are coming?”

“Maybe two?” His ears twitched on top of his head, listening for footprints. “They’re still coming and this is a dead end! What the hell do we—” His words were interrupted when Kagome grabbed at his shoulder and bodily hauled him in front of her, closing her in against the wall. He was shocked by her strength, enough that he couldn’t even demand to know what she was doing. “Ka—”

“Trust me,” she whispered, and then grabbed his face and pulled him into her.

Her lips were soft.

Inuyasha blinked down at the priestess, confused beyond all measure. She pressed against him more firmly, lips insistent and the half-demon felt like it was impossible to refuse. His arms braced against the stone wall and he leaned in to kiss her properly, to see if he could make her gasp.

Footsteps edged along the alleyway but Kagome’s grip on him tightened, like she knew he was going to give them away. He tensed but otherwise didn’t move and the woman pressed against him let out a sound so needy that Inuyasha could feel his whole body flush red at it. What in the name of the Gods above did she think she was doing?

But then the demon made a disgusted sound and moved away, clearly dismissing them. Kagome let go of his face but didn’t let him move, the two of them listening in silence for a minute.

“He’s gone,” Inuyasha murmured then, eyes trained on the wall to the side of her face. He was pretty positive he couldn’t look at her right now. That sound she made was replaying in his mind, regardless of the fact that it was clearly fake and clearly done to aid their escape.

“Good.” Kagome patted his cheek, and the feeling was enough to distract him into looking at her. The woman’s smile was soft. “Sorry about that. Didn’t have time to really explain the plan.”

“It’s— It’s fine. Fine.” Inuyasha nodded and was horrified at himself when his gaze slipped back down to her lips. “Fine.”

“You’ve said that.”

“Uh-huh.”

Her dark gaze was boring into his golden one. It felt like an eternity, like they had all the time in the world, when Inuyasha knew they very much didn’t. They had to meet Koga. They needed to board their ship.

They needed to find the Jewel of Four Souls.

“Are you ready?” Kagome asked, hands slipping from his face. Had they been standing there, so close and touching, this whole time?

“Are you?” he countered.

“I was literally born for this,” Kagome stated, readjusting her pack. She held out her hand. Inuyasha stared at it for only a second before taking it. “Before we go on this adventure,” she said, squeezing his hand, “will you tell me your name?”

This whole time, he hadn’t said it. She’d introduced herself and he’d never returned it. The half-demon licked his lips. “Inuyasha.”

Kagome’s smile turned sharper, like she knew a secret that he didn’t. It wasn’t dangerous or wicked, but genuine. A pure joy, like a revelation having finally opened up. “Inuyasha,” she whispered herself before nodding. She squeezed his hand once more. He could feel the power in her touch, just like he could see the softness in her gaze. What was this woman even capable of?

There would be time to find out, he figured, as they started to run.

Three days to the Isle, and a long ship ride with Koga in between.

There would be a lot of time to find out.

[fortunesrevolver]

Commission: Start Simple

Alternate Title: The FitnessGram™ Pacer Test is a multistage aerobic capacity test that progressively... *shot* Series: Persona 5 Request: Ann and Ryuji bonding at the gym; much like a social link. Platonic. For: @lloyd-irving

This one... was tons of fun too. I love the Persona series to pieces, and this was a story where I got to write two characters I don’t write for that often. It’s only my second time writing either one of them, so I’m really hopeful that it turned out well. Still, I am proud of this one and it was a total blast to write. :)

Thank you again for the commission!

“So… why’re we here again?” Ryuji murmured as he made no effort to conceal a loud yawn and rubbed his eyes.

With a small growl, Ann tossed her towel and water bottle onto a nearby chair and turned, arms crossed. “I told you before! I was serious about wanting to slim down and tone up!”

“Mm… that’s great and all, but why the hell are we here so damn early? It’s like… the ass-crack of dawn.”

“We get up this early for school every day,” Ann pointed out, her jacket joining the pile next. “Besides, I’ve read like… three articles saying that the morning is the best time to train! It wakes up your body and gets you ready for the day.”

“...more like put you to sleep. The hell sort of articles have you been reading?”

“Good ones,” Ann chirped and waved her hand dismissively. “Does it matter? You said you’d help me out, sooo… Show me your secrets, oh guru gym master!”

“If I knew helping you meant getting up this early, I’d have just told you to find a trainer.” Despite his grumblings, Ryuji tossed his own belongings next to Ann’s and bend forward, releasing a low groan of satisfaction as his shoulders popped and his muscles warmed to the familiar movements.

“That’s just mean…” Ann huffed, “And gross. Get your butt outta my face.”

“I’m not showing you my ass, dummy.” Ryuji straightened, bending to the side. “I’m doing stretches. You need to do them before and after a workout.”

“Really…?” Ann blinked, moving closer to observe his movements and began to try and mimic them. “Does it help?”

“Helps if you don’t like cramps. It--what the hell are you doing?”

“Um,” Ann looked up from her twisted position. “Stretching?”

“Do you even pay attention in gym class?” Ryuji frowned, pausing mid-stretch.

“Of course I do!” Ann gasped, trying to force out as much of a scandalized tone as she could. Pay attention she might, but memorize she’d never bothered. They rarely started with more than one or two before they go to whatever the task of the day was. “Geez… even after getting hurt, you still make this look so easy.”

“I’m gonna assume that was a compliment.” Rolling his eyes, Ryuji straightened himself and moved over to Ann. “You’re just gonna hurt yourself twistin’ around like that.” That’s the last thing he needed. An injured girl -- let alone a friend -- in a nearly empty gym. He really didn’t want to have to deal with the assumptions that would follow him out the door. “Here, look, split your legs like this. Keep your legs straight and bend at your waist.” He placed his hands on her hips to guide her to the proper stance. “Bending your knees is just cheatin’. Don’t worry about reachin’ your toes. Ain’t important right now. You’ll get farther the more you stretch.”

“Wow, Ryuji,” Ann grinned, wiggling her fingers as they stopped just short of her toes. “If I didn’t know better, I’d almost call that a smooth move.”

“...no thanks,” he dead-panned. “I like my girls a little less… violent.”

“E-excuse me?!”

“I’ve seen you with a whip,” Ryuji shrugged. “I don’t need that in this world anymore than I need it in that one. Now do the other leg. I’ll count.”

------

By the end of stretching, Ann’s mood had taken a surprisingly steep upturn and Ryuji wondered if he should bother trying to get her to save energy. He had been just as bad the first time he’d gone to the gym -- confident, energetic, and ready to take on any machine he could get his hands on. Which had been a horrible mistake. At least he could keep Ann from having to spend a day covered in ice and heating pads.

“Alright!” Ann cheered and looked around the room. “What’s first? Weights? The… uh, bench push? Oooh, what about that one?” She pointed toward an elliptical. “That looks like it’d toughen me up.”

“Uh, no.” Ryuji shook his head. “No way. You’re gonna kill yourself if you just go runnin’ around half-cocked. We’re gonna start easy.”

“Whaaat? But that’s boring! I’ve gotten plenty of muscle from--”

“You ain’t got your persona here to help out,” Ryuji shook his head, “or… weird… fancy armor clothes. Start simple or don’t start at all.”

“...fine, fine. What’s first?”

“Treadmill.” Ryuji jerked his head to their right. “Come over here, walk for five minutes and then I’ll show you how to bump up to a jog.”

“...wow, when you said simple, you really meant simple.” Ann sighed, but complied as she climbed up onto the running platform. “Sooo, I just push this button here a couple of times?”

“Yeah, and then--shit! Ann, not that many--” It was too late. The machine burst into life. Startled, Ann yelped and tried to steady herself against the sudden fast-paced thrumming of the belt, but after only a few steps she’d lost her balance and careened backwards into Ryuji’s chest and sent them both to the floor.

“O-owwww…”

“Shit… Dammit, Ann! This is why I said start easy. You’re gonna hurt yourself!”

With a frown, Ann pushed herself back up, rubbing her rear as she huffed at the still-running treadmill. “...geez, I didn’t think it would be this hard.” She turned, guilt tugging at her chest as Ryuji stumbled to his feet. “Um, are you--”

“...walking first,” Ryuji waved her off with a flick of his wrist. “Like this. I’ll tell you when to speed it up.”

“...right, okay. Walking. I can do that no problem.”

Not bothering to answer, he wasn’t about to intentionally set himself up for getting hit, he reset the machine and helped Ann up onto the belt, showing her the proper movement for switching her feet to the sidebars when she needed a break. “Now just… walk for a few minutes. I’ll be right next to you.”

“Right!”

True to her word, and Ryuji’s relief, Ann kept her pace slow and steady. Her face was drawn tight with focus and Ryuji had to admit, her motivation was admirable. Somewhat scary and possibly dangerous for anyone who got in her way, but admirable. It reminded him of when he’d first started track.

“Alright, now hit that button twice. It’ll take you to a jog.”

“Woohoo! Levelling up!”

“...sure,” Ryuji snorted, “just make sure you pay attention.”

“P’shaw, this is easy-peasy.”

“Yeah, say that to the chick who nearly knocked me out a few minutes ago.”

“...that’s just mean,” Ann pouted, but soon returned her focus to the treadmill as she speed reached its maximum speed for her setting.

Beside her, Ryuji was upped his own to a slow run. Jogging was an easy enough start, but if he wanted to keep getting better, he had to push himself at least a little bit. Ann had the right idea, wanting to improve so quickly. Mementos and all the Palaces they’d found helped a lot, but there was no way all that ‘crazy shit’ would last forever. He’d have to get better on his own terms if he wanted to pull his own weight.

How had so much happened in just a few months? It was like Akira arriving had been some sort of big boom that triggered more events Ryuji ever thought possible. Not to mention, now they had Yusuke and Makoto and things were getting even more crazy. Both in that world and in their own. What the hell was he going to do about the track team and--

“W-whoa, uh, hey, Ryuji…!”

Ryuji blinked, jerked out of his daze in time to realize he’d sped up his machine just a little too much and he was limping. Badly. His leg throbbed in protest and he stumbled, cursing in alarm as he pitched forward, barely managing to grab the arm rails to keep his face off spinning belt.

“Holy crap…!” Ann leapt forward, slapping her hands over the controls in a blind panic. The belt briefly sped up, making Ryuji shout again before she successfully hit the power button and the whole thing came to a slow stop.

“...shit,” Ryuji coughed, dropping to his knees. “Shit, ow, damn.”

“H-hey…” Ann frowned, concern evident on her face as she glanced around. “Here, I…”

He took her hand gratefully and stumbled his way over to the chair she’d cleared of their things. Maybe he was the one who needed to pay more attention to his own rules.

“Are you… okay?” Ann asked, holding out his bottle of water. “You weren’t answering me at all and your leg…”

“S’fine,” Ryuji slumped against the back of the chair. “Just got lost in my thoughts. Wasn’t payin’ attention.”

“Want me to go see if they’ve got ice?” Ann paused, then pointed to his leg. “You’re shaking.”

“...it’ll be fine,” Ryuji shook his head, a wry smile on his face. “Guess I was the one pushin’ a little too hard.”

“...I guess that means it still hurts, huh?” Ann stood up, grabbing her towel as she took the seat beside him. “I remember back in middle school… you used to be the fastest kid I knew. I was totally convinced you’d end up being some running star. Like in the olympics or…” she trailed off, wincing. “...sorry, I guess I’m not helping.”

Ryuji laughed. “I’m used to that.”

“Hey!”

“Seriously though… I’m alright. Not a big deal. I’m usually here with Akira and he calls my ass out when I zone like that. So… thanks.”

“Sure…” Ann nodded, still worried. “Are you… going to join the team again?”

“Huh?”

“Akira said you’ve been working really hard lately,” she motioned around the gym. “Here and at school. I was wondering if you wanted to join again.”

“Maybe before,” Ryuji shrugged and gulped down a swig of water. “Think I wanted to at some point, but… then I just decided I wanted to do it for myself. Don’t think I’ll ever join again. I just… wanted to prove to myself I could do it. Get back to somewhere close to where I was, you know? Not feel so…”

“Useless?”

“Something like that.” He took another drink. “What about you? Why so serious about this all of a sudden? That agency of yours ain’t giving you shit for your weight, are they?”

“No, no…” Ann shook her head. “Surprisingly, I’ve never had trouble.”

“...damn, with all those sweets you eat, I kinda thought you were already a gym-nut.”

“Oh shut up. I’ve got awesome metabolism, that’s all.”

“That what it is? Here I thought you just burned it all on nagging.”

“Haha,” Ann rolled her eyes and tossed Ryuji’s towel at his face. “I guess… maybe it’s for modelling? I’m not sure. I think that’s part of it, but…” she trailed off, and Ryuji said nothing in response, waiting for her to continue. “I think… I want to get stronger for myself and you guys. And Shiho too. I just… after what happened, I felt so weak. And now we have that other world and… I don’t know. Maybe I felt like I wasn’t trying hard enough? Or just…”

“Like you wanted to do more?”

“Yeah…” Ann nodded. “Akira does so much for all of us. I mean, he’s our leader and all, but he takes care of us here too. I think… maybe I just want to help him carry all his weight. The same way he helps us.”

Ryuji nodded. Akira did seem to be a driving force for all of them. Even Makoto, an already determined and fighting spirit, seemed to have changed after meeting him. Or maybe it was just after accepting themselves and meeting their Persona that it had all changed, but that had come after Akira too. It was weird to think about it, all that motivation stoked by one person but spurred on by their own desires.

“I think you’ve been getting better,” Ryuji murmured. “Fighting, I mean. We all used to stumble around pretty bad, but… I’ve noticed when we fight in Mementos, you’re getting a little faster. And you, uh, whip harder… n’ stuff.”

“...wow,” Ann snorted. “For a moment there I actually thought you were going to say something sweet. But you’re just a mess as always.”

“You know what--”

“...but thanks,” she smiled, a softer look in her eyes. “Really. And for coming today.”

Ryuji shrugged. “No big deal. Helps me too. I’d be here alone anyway. Might as well go with a friend.”

“Sooo, if I said I wanted to come again tomorrow…?”

“Hell no,” shaking his head, Ryuji dabbed at his face. “Tomorrow is a day off. Don’t push yourself too hard or you’ll just collapse.”

“But--”

“Wednesday,” he cut in. “We’ll come here twice a week while you get started. Once you’re used to it we’ll turn it up.”

“You’ll keep helping me?! Really?”

“Don’t see why not. I need the gym, you need it. Together we can make sure nothin’ goes wrong.”

“Woohoo! You’re the greatest!” Ann beamed. “This is great--we’re gonna celebrate. We’re gonna get cake on the way home! My treat.”

“Cake? Really? The hell sort of post workout food is that?” Ryuji shook his head. This girl really didn’t get it. Not yet, but she’d done well for her first day. A little treat couldn’t hurt. Probably. “I thought you wanted to slim down.”

“Oh, shut up. We’ll get something healthy. Like cheesecake with fruit! Fruit is healthy.”

“Uh, yeah, when it’s not on cake.”

“Shut uuuup,” Ann whined, “I’m offering you food. Just take it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ryuji stood up and tested his weight on his leg. It still hurt, but at least he wasn’t shaking anymore. “Set your stuff down. We gotta finish off with stretches.”

“More of those?”

“If you wanna cramp up--”

“Ugh, ew, no, fine, stretching.” Ann stood, looking hopeful. “...then cake?”

Ryuji smiled faintly. How Ann managed to have the same level of motivation for working out as she did for obtaining cake was wild. “Yeah, sure, then cake.” He bent down, reaching for his toes. “Hurry up and bend. I’ll count.”

[stargleeksil-blog]

Criminal Minds s02e10 Lessons Learned review - or more aptly named, holy shit I can’t believe they put him in harm’s way, I’m going to fucking kill those bastards, oh he’s all right, good. fuck you assholes.

Episode 10 – Lessons Learned

Okey dokey, so we’re nearly halfway through season 2, and I’ve only been working on it two days (in actual reviewing time, I’m divulging some inner secrets that can only be divulged to those privileged few who deign my words worthy of reading, so shhh!!!). Pretty intense shit is going on over here.

I just called one of my friends to get rid of cockroaches. I know, it’s pussy thing to do, especially for a lady, but come on! That’s like the one bug that really gets my goat! I can deal with spiders, ants, mosquitos, even flies. But not roaches. Ugh. So gross. That and rats are my two weaknesses.

So, back to Criminal Minds, because let’s face it, Shemar and Matthew are so much better than dealing with household pests. Let’s see what this episode has in store.

Let’s see what happens.

Whoa, that’s a SWAT car. Yikes. This is gonna be intense.

A lady team leader. I love it.

Hey! It’s Professor Short-Skirt from Community! Awesome!

Well, it’s not a meth lab, but there is an escape tunnel, and that’s a fucking bomb.

Who the fuck wakes Hotch on a morning sleep-in. Damn. Poor thing.

God, I can’t believe that he has to do this to his wife. But come on, it’s his fucking job. I love Hotch so much.

Straight to business.

Wait. Emily knows Arabic? Damn.

I love you already, Prentiss. Awesome.

I love how everyone’s like, awesome! We could use her!

And then Penelope dazzles everyone with everything. Lol.

Jin d’Allah. Meaning soldier of God. Lovely.

Oh god, he’s part of the Jihad. Yikes.

Wait. Wait. Hold the presses. Reid read the Koran? Damn.

They have to do in 48 hours what the CIA haven’t been able to do in two months? Fuck.

Wait. Gideon is heading to Guantanamo Bay? Oh my god. That’s intense.

Yup, they should assess Prentiss on the field, and she’s willing enough, what’s the harm?

Dale Turner: “Some of the best lessons are learned from past mistakes. The error of the past is the wisdom of the future.” Who is this guy and can I marry his brain?

Gideon, why are you being so harsh on Prentiss? And Prentiss, he’s right, this isn’t a treat to go with them to Guantanamo. You have to prove your worth, and you have to not interrupt[t Gideon while he’s playing chess with Reid, and you need to tone down your sassiness. Capiche?

Oh Reid’s ‘oooh snap’ face is everything to me.

So Gideon is a genius.

Haha the whole chess board just went kersplat. I love it.

There’s a mandatory 90-degree turn when you approach Gitmo? Damn.

And Reid was winning! Wait what, Gideon would have had him in three moves? Damn. Prentiss is good.

Wait, it’s a bio-chemical bomb? Damn.

Hey! Hey! Why torture the guy? You want answers, that’s not how you get them.

So Gideon’s going to swoop in as the hero who is juxtaposed to his usual tormentors? That’s awesome.

Crap. A list of chemicals. Damn.

So Jin d’Allah is so convinced he is going to suffer, he won’t even cooperate? Youch.

A list of chemicals needed to weaponized Anthrax. What’s that? Some kind of explosive that’s deadly? From your tone, Derek, it sure seems that way.

So even the smallest amount of this Anthrax is deadly to many people? Yikes.

God, I already love Prentiss. She’s like – he’s Egyptian, from Cairo, wait, no, he might be from Yemen, but most like Egypt. You do you, Emily.

So he’s slightly impressed by how much Gideon finds out about him through conversation rather than violence.

Gideon’s worst enemy is ignorance. Welcome to the club, buddy.

Aww, he’s letting him pray! That’s so amazing!

Yikes! Those details are driving me nuts! So turns out that the NSA is routing its satellites to the USA during emergencies of electronic traffic. Meaning, they can basically monitor whoever they want at any given time and just not tell anybody. Well, that’s an unsettling thought there, guys. My condolences. Of course, I don’t know how it works here in Israel, either, so it might very well be happening here, too. In which case – NO ONE IS SAFE! WE NEED AN ESCAPE PLAN TO MARS!

Wait, those CIA assholes kept those water bottles there to remind him that he couldn’t have any? Wow, talk about extreme measures to get him to crack. Yet, they were unsuccessful, so what’s the point? I’m learning a whole new mass of information about the American law enforcement system, and some of it isn’t to my liking at all.

“How can you ignore the fact that Muhammad preached passivity while he was in Mecca? ‘Do no violence.’” Wow. That is true.

“His later message from Medina was perfectly clear. ‘When violence comes upon you, you must fight back with violence.’” Seriously? Turns out he’s not even quoting the Koran, but the Hadith. “The Verse of the Sword”. Which the Muslims argue cancels out earlier teachings. Someone’s spin on the words of the prophet. Oh dear lord.

Fight and slay infidels wherever you find them and seize them in every stratagem of war. – that’s in the Koran?

Ah! Unless they repent. Establish regular prayers and practice regular charity.

So those who embrace the Jihad basically spin everything that Muhammad said and the Koran to support their violent ways to justify their killings as the will of Allah? Oh god, that is seriously messed up, brother.

“How is it that my faith would allow you to live and worship as you please, and yours would take my life and snuff it out?” Amazing. Simply amazing.

“You are simply misguided people of the book.” PAH! “But if you revert to Islam …” seriously? That’s the only way to repent for their ‘sinful ways’?

So he survived a bombing on a bazaar in Cairo? Damn. And he was only eight? Yikes.

Let’s verify it with Oracle of All Knowledge.

Half his family died in the bombing? Damn. Poor thing. But that is not the reason to go on a killing spree in the name of a god, and call it holy revenge. It isn’t.

Wait. They’re going into a site, where there might be an active bomb, an active chemical bomb no less, with no coms? Oh god. Please let my baby boy survive this. I won’t be able to cope with it at work today.

So he’s relieved by telling him that they found the sites? What’s wrong with this guy? Oh my god, he’s the one calling the shots on the bombings. Fuck. Get out of there! The bomb is there and is about to blow!!!! I know it! Morgan, get out of there, leave Professor Short-Skirt, take Hotch with you, and scram!

Oh snap. So they may have gotten the Anthrax from a foreign lab? Damn.

Oh crap, the girls can see the bombing in Annandale, oh god.

Please pick up!

Oh thank god.

“Don’t worry. Don’t think you’re gonna get rid of me that easy.” Thank the almighty lord of chocolate Adonises and chiseled abs. I wouldn’t live without Shemar XD

“Do you need anything?” “I know who to call if I do. Thanks, baby doll.” Aww, just kiss already.

So they didn’t use Anthrax in the two first bombs. But the third one will involve it.

Jind, don’t fuck with Gideon, and don’t fuck with me. You suck, you are evil, and you need to stop.

Wait. He’s changing his story now? His son is the kid who got blown up in the bazaar bombing, and he was the one who survived? Fuck you, asshole!

His real name is Jamal Abaza. Go to hell.

Hey, CIA assholes, why you so rude to my Gideon? Not nice. He’s trying to school you.

Fuck protocols. Assholes.

“How goes with the CIA?” “I don’t know what Gideon said to them, but they are feeding me information like crazy.” Ha, I love Gideon and I love his power of persuasion. I would believe anything that came out of that pretty mouth of his.

Seriously? Jamal, seriously? You and Gideon breath the same air, you are comprised of the same biological components that make you a male human being. Just because you believe in different faiths does not make you all that different. Just means you believe different things. And the fact that you believe your god would like you to eliminate anyone who doesn’t believe in him, but that’s beside the point, am I right? I’m not? Well, fuck you asshole.

Oh. So he’s less than human? You try to kill other humans. Come on.

And yet Gideon is still gracious to him.

That should count for something.

20 grams of Anthrax missing. Ruh-roh.

“No one wants the other kids peeing in their sand box.” Ew, Garcia, simply ew. I mean, true, but ew.

Soft entry. As opposed to what? Cuz you just banged open a door. That’s hard for me.

Whoa. That’s a lot of dead bodies, dude. Fuck.

So he’s bringing in Reid to talk to him? What the hell are you doing?

He’s making jokes? Seriously?

Oh god. Mandy’s horrified expression is just amazing. So touching.

Oh crap. He’s going to blow up a mall. Fuck.

Ha! They manipulated him to think it’s a different time, and they just let him show his final hand. I love you Gideon, and I am so sorry for those people. I hope they get there in time. Shit.

Please, Hayley, postpone the pictures, you need to not go to the mall.

Shit. They’re going through the air vents. Damn.

Yes! My baby boy got him. And now they’re saying it was a robbery? Come on. Let’s not pretend it was anything other than a terror attack.

Oh thank god, Hotchner’s family are okay. Thank god.

Hahahahhaa Jack is so cute!

Ralph Waldo Emerson: “In order to learn the most important lessons of life, one must each day surmount a fear.” Meh, somewhat true.

Boom. Gideon schooled Reid again.

Aww! He’s letting Prentiss play him? That’s nice. So they’re finally trusting her. Good.

 Okay, so this episode hit close to home. Not because I was raised in a Jewish household, but because I was raised in Israel, and Muslim extremists and the Jihad were always a threat hovering over our heads. I really hate terrorism. Because it’s a group of sad, pathetic people brainwashing an entire group who believe in a certain faith that in order to prove their faithfulness they have to kill others and maybe die themselves. This episode was extremely powerful. It made me appreciate Prentiss, and make me like her. It had me anxious over my baby boy, Derek, on whether or not he was going to live, and thank goodness he did, and it had a bit of Penelope going nuts over him as well, which was awesome.

Amazing episode, amazing writing, and I hope this season continues to amaze me.

[territorializethis]

WEEK 5, ENTRY 2 of 2: Surrealism, reconsidered.

In terms of a surrealist “canon,” a continuum of texts in that tradition that make the kind of interventions that surrealism does (juxtapose reality and unreality, draw attention to the things we casually accept through that juxtaposition, use strategic discomfort to narrative ends, etc...), I began to consider what a good “counter-text” would be for a movie like Belle du Jour... a visual piece that a. traffics in the surreal image, b. considers, in a Foucaultian way, the Transgression of the Limit as an act of self-definition, a becoming.

For the demarcation I wanted to draw between text and counter-text, I could not shake Belle du Jour’s obsession with sexual violence, its exploitativeness, and its gross, squicky implication that “nono.. its cool.. she really WANTED to be violated.” This demarcation led me to my PERFECT counter-text, a surreal watch that does surreal better than the surrealists themselves (I feel COMPLETELY comfortable asserting that. Fight. Me.). I give you, Bryan Fuller’s Hannibal on NBC, 2013-2015.

Hannibal is based on the prequel novel to Silence of the Lambs, entitled Red Dragon. Interestingly, Red Dragon features an primary antagonist serial killer who sexually exploits his victims (the man Hannibal Lecter is to help Will Graham catch), but in adapting this killer to the big screen, Bryan Fuller refused outright to focus on the sexually assaultive aspect. In explanation, he said: “There are frequent examples of exploiting rape as low-hanging fruit to have a canvas of upset for the audience. The reason the rape well is so frequently used is because it’s a horrible thing that is real and that it happens. But because it’s so overexploited, it becomes callous. That’s something I can’t derive entertainment from as an audience member,” and also, “ I find that it’s not necessarily thought-through in the more common crime procedurals. You’re reduced to using shorthand, and I don’t think there can be a shorthand for that violation — it’s an incredibly personal and intimate betrayal of something that should be so positive and healthy. And it’s frequently so thinly explored because you don’t have the real estate in 42 minutes to dig deep into what it is to be a victim of rape.” (Slay, Bryan, you are KING amongst showrunners.)

Underlying his explanation of why it is distasteful to him to exploit assault on the screen is his appraisal that doing so is unnecessary -- assault is not the only, or even the best, or even a good, way to create a “canvas of upset” for the audience -- so what we get with Hannibal is a show about violation in a different way than sexual exploitation of the female body (and holy crap does it showcase violations), without being a vehicle for impressing the audience into the most predatory of audience gazes for a cheap point.

Now, Hannibal as “surreal.” And boy, is it surreal. The juxtaposition of reality and unreality is on FULL display.

SPOILER ALERT, NBC HANNIBAL.

Our main character, Hugh Dancy’s Will Graham, inhabits the positionality of Catherine Deneuve’s in du Jour -- it is he who will transgress limits to “become himself.” If Deneuve in her role explored becoming a sexually expressive woman in a sexually repressive space / culture (though, arguably, presented in the film as becoming a sexually expressive woman in no less exploited of a form), Will Graham’s becomings are two, double, and intertwined -- one is becoming the exact sort of psychopath that he is so good at mentally inhabiting in order to help his employers at the FBI catch them, and one is becoming one who can homosexually commune with one who is like him, with another person who has underwent that first becoming, a becoming-monster. The first becoming is what introduces a lot of the surreal imagery, some pictured above. Graham’s mindscape is inhabited by the specters of those he has killed, or other serial killers who he has empathized with, and it is also inhabited by strange forms, feathered stags, and a collossal man with onyx black skin and giant stag antlers, who periodically raises out of rivers or appears in mirrors or ... in one scene... curls up on the ground while Will claws his way out of his pregnant body. (The reality/unreality dichtomy is on full display, however, with the crime scenes, which are not Graham’s imaginings, but “real events” of the show -- see the “tree” and “eye” tableaus above). The dreams of Belle du Jour that surrealistly show Deneuve, outside of temporal logic, dealing with the symbolic dream-content of her becoming, are present in Hannibal in this way, in Graham’s fever dreams. In fact, they both have a tree-tying vision, as it turns out.

It is this second becoming, the one toward homosexual (or really, pansexual) communion, that is for many the most interesting aspect of the show. Hannibal is a very, very, very gay show, and in a very fascinating way, that has a surrealism of its own, even aside from the visual surrealism. This has to do with the fourth-wall breaking conversation that this show began to have with its audience as the show progressed. Right here on tumblr, a robust community of individuals began to ship (short for relation-ship, or to pair romantically) “Hannigram” and to write mountains of fan fiction of varying levels of explicitivity about them fucking, killing together, both at the same time, etc. Well, the strange occurance that happened is, the show began to enter into active conversation with the Hannigram shippers. It was to the point where the tweeters and tumblrs would coin “Murder Husbands,” and it would appear in the next episode.

This is a very different kind of relationship between reality and unreality, one that arguably would not have been possible in the days of film development and cinema-release debuts.... rather than portraying a relationship between reality and unreality, Hannibal embodies it, conversing with the audience-in-the-Real’s sexual experience of the characters. Will Graham’s becoming-gay is the audience’s becoming-shippers. For a show with only two sex scenes in it, and only one of which with easily distinguishable bodies, I don’t know that I have ever seen a show with more tension of desire written on the faces of the characters, the presentation of which is part of the show’s relationship with its audience. In a word: the camera’s Gaze is aware of Queer Desire. And somehow, the transgression of a norm, a limit, represented by an audience coming to love a MAJOR NETWORK lead-character pairing in a very, very, gay way and have that investment paid off in real-time seems more transgressive than a bougie lady hob-knobbing in brothels with women who have to do it to even eat, Belle du Jour, but maybe that is just me. Speaking of, in terms of the figure of the Woman on this show, there is a lot going on with very complicated characters such as du Maurier, Chiyo, and Reba as important recurring characters and many others who stop in for an episode, but a very important pairing and Becoming that the show showcases is the relationship between Margot Verger and Alana Bloom.

The show got criticism in Season 1 for seemingly trying to push romantic relationships between Bloom’s FBI psychiatrist and both Will and Hannibal, but it was actually Bloom’s actress Caroline Dhavernas and Verger’s, Catherine Isabella, who asked the showrunner Bryan Fuller if they could do a sex scene together. It was in that way that we get one of the most powerful (and surreal) depictions of communion I have ever seen on a screen -- the kaliedoscopic blurring in and out of the two women’s bodies, so that it is not until a minute into the scene that it is even clear whose bodies we are seeing. Margot, an exceedingly wealthy heiress of a pork empire who is exploited brutally by her brother, first-in-line heir apparent, and Bloom, who over the course of the show suffers deeply by her involvement with the Murder Husbands, have a sort of becoming-woman-together in which they become a queered family that is isolated from the self destruction of the serial killers and safe from the controlling hand of Mason Verger. In short... Hannibal contains as a damned side story (that is still longer than du Jour’s runtime) a very comparable becoming to Catherine Denuvue’s in Belle du Jour, only less problematic and arguably more visually impressive.

But back to the film’s surreal imagery, and what that might have to say about the body, and about audience’s relationship to text...

Hannibal has a lot to say about gaze.

In the very first episode, Will Graham kills a serial killer in a police shooting whose last word to him sticks in his head throughout the entire show... “See?” Indeed, Will’s “power”, in the sense that the lead cop in crime procedurals always seems to have some almost extra-sensory kind of power, is to “see” -- the FBI leads Graham to a typically impressive and elaborate murder-tableau crime-scene, and Will “sees” the intention or “design” of the killer almost as if it were his own memory. In this sense, Will is like an art critic -- he “sees” the art, and he “reads” it as a text, “seeing” a phenoumenal world behind the text. Of course, this is exactly what we as audience do as we watch film. If in La Ley del Deseo, Almodovar played with the typical Male Gaze by comparing it to the manipulative and murderous character of Banderas, here, Fuller compares all of us binge-watchers watching violent TV on Netflix in 10 episode chunks to serial killers daydreaming about bloodscapes. Same thing that Fuller, a vegan, does with Hannibal Lecter’s beautiful food presentation by comparing the presentation of human meat to animal meat. Fuller’s Hannibal “sees” with a camera that certainly is a desiring Male Gaze, but a Gaze that contains an implicit critique of the way that that cinematic gaze works... female bodies are present, and fabulous, but not exploited; males and females both are murdered and their bodies transformed, but their bodies are not sexualized; violence is shown, but to critique the way that we see violence, instead of to participate in the traffic of such imagery without self awareness. In many ways, the particular Male Gaze shown on Hannibal is the “sick” Male Gaze, the gaze of the psychopath who would mass murder...

...only to turn that Gaze on us, and say: hey, look how comfortable you are “Putting On” that Gaze, isn’t that the Gaze of most action / horror film?

“See?”

Hannibal uses the cinematic gaze as a mirror to force us to look at the cinematic gaze, and as such, as its critique of our gaze’s “sickness” has me wondering what another kind of Gaze would look like.