#and then immediately does the opposite in order to win the game

[crimson--freak]

mike walters is a police And prison abolitionist!!?

[anneapocalypse]

On Cullen's Earnestness

In my current playthrough of Dragon Age: Inquisition, this one early war table quest caught my eye that I think offers a good bit of insight into Cullen’s character.

In “Truth or Dare: The Imperial Court,” Vivienne alerts Josephine to a letter she’s received from an acquaintance, purporting to “warn” Vivienne of the suspect company she has taken up in joining the Inquisition. The letter reads thus:

My dearest Vivienne,

You cannot have heard the shocking allegations against the Inquisition, or surely you would never have been seen with them. Allow me, as a friend, to open your eyes. People are saying that Divine Justinia is, indeed, alive, but that the Inquisition—her closest advisors and most trusted servants—have orchestrated all this chaos on her orders. That it was Seeker Pentaghast and Sister Nightingale who sabotaged the Conclave in order to eliminate the opposition within the Chantry, and cut off the heads of the mage rebellion and templars in a single stroke. To save your own reputation, you must escape this acquaintance immediately.

With deepest concern, Vicomtesse Elodie de Morreau

In the context of the Game, we may understand that this Vicomtesse, while she may call Vivienne a friend, likely has no great concern for her reputation.

The Inquisition is the horse on which Vivienne is betting in order to better her own position (which is considerably shakier than she lets on, but that’s another post); Vicomtesse Elodie is simply making a different bet. If Vivienne heeds her warnings, and the Inquisition never achieves public favor, then Elodie’s advice was correct and Vivienne is indebted to her. If Vivienne heeds her warnings and the Inquisition does gain public acclaim, then Elodie has disrupted Vivienne’s opportunity for advancement, and she also wins. And if Vivienne does not heed her advice and the Inquisition remains a pariah, Elodie gets to watch Vivienne go down with it, smugly saying “I told you so.” Only if the Inquisition thrives and Vivienne with it does Elodie lose this bet—and Vivienne is clearly interested in seeing that outcome, and helping it come about.

The important thing is that the specifics of the accusations against the Inquisition are absolutely irrelevant here. This conspiracy theory about Justinia being secretly alive and the Left and Right Hand doing a sabotage to secure Chantry power—it’s all nonsense, and I doubt the Vicomtesse truly believes it. More critically, she likely does not care whether it is true. Repeating this rumor is just a means to a desired outcome.

If you’ve ever argued with a conspiracy theorist who seemed to simply change their position every time you backed them into a rhetorical corner, you may have realized that facts are largely ineffective at combating this sort of thing.

And of the three advisors, Cullen is the only one to get hung up on the content of the rumor, rather than its source and its purpose. Josephine and Leliana, seasoned players of the Game, both recognize this stupid rumor for what it is. Both of them ignore the substance of it and instead focus on its purpose: turning public opinion against the Inquisition. Josephine proposes to combat it by seeking noble favor elsewhere and leaving it to those allies to do the work of actually arguing against the rumors. Leliana is more interested in finding out with whom the rumor originated.

Leliana also makes the particularly savvy observation that if they were to combat the rumor by attempting to prove Justinia’s death, they would simply be providing their opponents more ammunition to use against them later. Leliana recognizes that “The Divine is alive, and you’re hiding her!” isn’t an earnest accusation, it’s bait. And if you take the bait, if you say, “Actually the Divine did die; here’s her remains to prove it,” then your enemies can say, “Aha! And how do you know she’s dead? It’s because you people killed her!” Or, best case scenario is they just bait you into wasting a lot of your time proving the accusation false, which is exactly what happens if you let Cullen take the bait.

Again, you might have had a similar experience if you’ve ever tried to “debate” a person whose strategy is making outrageous claims, letting you waste a lot of time earnestly debunking them, and then ignoring all your arguments and simply making another, equally outrageous claim.

In Cullen’s case, what happens is poor Knight-Captain Rylen is tasked with leading a field trip of Orlesian nobles through the grisly ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, while asking them to please not touch the red lyrium, and no, you cannot take a charred corpse home as a souvenir, please milord I must ask you not to touch the red lyrium. I’m sure that was an excellent use of everyone’s time and resources.

But it’s easy to understand why Cullen responds this way! It’s a very instinctual and human response! “Well, you’ve just said a thing that is very obviously untrue. I’ll prove to you that it’s untrue! And this will solve the problem of you being wrong, and then we can all move forward together. Right?”

It’s an eminently reasonable response, so long as you assume that the other party is being reasonable and engaging with you in good faith.

Cullen assumes they are. Josephine and Leliana know they’re not. (Vivienne also knew this; hence her handing the letter over to Josephine to deal with instead of bothering to reply herself.)

And you can probably see how Cullen’s earnestness, his desire to believe that other people are also operating earnestly and in good faith, could lead him down some dangerous paths.

Knight-Commander Meredith was also a conspiracy theorist. The difference is that her conspiracy theories were about people she had near-absolute power over, with terrible consequences. And working under the authority of someone he wanted to believe in, someone he absolutely would have taken as entirely earnest (because in many ways she was earnest, at least in her belief that magic was dangerous and must be controlled), it would have been easy for Cullen to assume she must be acting in good faith, even when his misgivings arose. “She needs a spine of iron to survive her position,” he says to Hawke. And like anyone arguing in bad faith, Meredith could move the goalposts when it suited her. No signs of blood magic discovered? That only proves how well they’re hiding it. The tower must be searched top to bottom. The First Enchanter objects? He must be one of them. Dissent among her own templar ranks? Must be the blood magic controlling their minds. As Dan Olson puts it in his video In Search of a Flat Earth, conspiracy theories make facts subservient to outcomes, which is why the "facts" can easily be rearranged and discarded at will—all that matters is the actions those facts justify.

Of course Meredith’s beliefs were, again, quite different—more dangerous, and far more earnestly held than this silly Orlesian rumor about the Inquisition. She was also under the influence of red lyrium at the height of her paranoia. But conspiracy theories often feed on paranoia, and Meredith’s beliefs were still ultimately beliefs that could be bent to justify the outcome she (and her superior, Grand Cleric Elthina) desired: mages must be controlled, whatever the cost.

Cullen has managed to extricate himself from Meredith’s mindset. But he hasn’t yet learned, I think, that conspiracy theories and irrational beliefs can’t be overcome simply by reason. That’s also very understandable for someone in his position. When you’re in the process of overcoming some very wrong beliefs yourself, things you earnestly believed, it’s very natural to want to believe that everyone else is just as earnest and can be persuaded; in fact, you have a personal stake in believing that, because if other people can be redeemed, that means there’s hope for you.

Do I think this justifies the things Cullen was complicit in during his time as a templar, or any misguided opinions he may voice during his time with the Inquisition? No, that’s not why I’m saying all this. But I think it’s an interesting aspect of his character and one worth exploring. Cullen is often characterized as the blunt instrument advisor, his answer to most war table questions being “send troops”; in Josie’s words “the hammer for whom every problem looks like a nail.” But I think some of his offered solutions do offer compelling insights into his character, and this one certainly does—as well as an interesting example of how this approach to the world and other people can go wrong.

[cerastes]

Maul-A-Bear Factory: Dismantling the Big Sad Lock

Big Sad Lock -- colloquially known as That Damn Bear -- is the second final boss in Integrated Strategies 2, the Roguelite mode offered by notorious music company Hypergryph in the game they included with their music albums, Arknights. It is a stationary, large boss with special mechanics that, if the anguished voices of the ghosts of all defunct Arknights players that have fought it and failed are anything to go by, can be pretty tricky.

But fear not, innocent bystander and cultured Arknights enjoyer, for I open the doors to my dojo of grease this fine day in order to instruct you in the finest ways of how to beat the Big Sad Lock. Today, it’s not a dojo, it’s a factory, the Maul-A-Bear Factory, in which you and I will embark on a heart-throbbing journey of understanding, wisdom, and incredibly visceral violence.

Without further foreplay, let’s hit that g-spot (the flow state for gamers in the spot, as you all know) and let’s get making our little handy dandy essential bullet point list on what it IS that you need to rip the stuffing out of this bear with your teeth:

This here is a video of me beating the Big Sad Lock in Calamity. Now, you may be wondering: Is this a Calamity guide? Nope, this works on any difficulty, which is something important to note because it let’s us immediately jump into the first very important point about the Big Sad Lock:

The Big Sad Lock is an extremely static, formulaic boss.

What does this mean? Unlike Lucian and the Playwright, and especially unlike The Mouthpiece, Big Sad Lock (BSL), as a boss fight, more or less resolves in the first minute and a half of the fight, that is, you can quickly be sure if it’ll go your way or if it won’t very quickly. This is because BSL either breaks you quickly, or not at all, and you break it or you don’t. Unlike the other IS2 bosses, BSL doesn’t test you much in terms of placement, it’s almost purely a test of team composition. IS2 is, already, a big test of team building, but BSL embodies that aspect to the extreme -- much like Mouthpiece is an extreme test of your ability to adapt to quickly changing circumstances, the opposite of BSL! -- so knowing if you’ll be able to win against BSL or if you’ll lose is actually something that becomes immediately apparent, and you have to ask yourself one question: Is my line holding while I deal damage?

Let’s get into the details that’ll make this question actually valuable, shall we?

Big Sad Lock has 300,000 HP, 800 ATK, 700 DEF, and 60 RES, and regenerates 0.25% HP per second (750 HP per sec baseline) if you do not have the Blank Suicide Note. It additionally occupies 3x3 tiles. To put it in simple terms, it has immense HP but several tiles to be attack from, above average Attack, above average Defense, and high Resistance, so your best bet is to hit it with Physical attacks or True Damage. It autoattacks two targets with Physical damage with global range, and every 20 instances of damage it takes (not attacks, instances of damage, so poison ticks and the like count), it releases a map-wide explosion attack that hits all of your Operators for 150% of its Attack (1200 Arts damage baseline). It’s most infamous ability, however, is that a minute into the fight and then every 45 seconds afterwards, BSL creates a barrier worth 15% of its Max HP (45,000 HP baseline). While the barrier exists, enemies move faster and additional enemies are spawned. If not defeated within 8 minutes, BSL explodes and deals 30 Life Points of damage to the Doctor, most likely ending the run unless you loaded up on Lives. This explosion also deals 200% Physical damage to every Operator (1600 damage baseline) but that’s the least of your problems at that point. While fighting the BSL, you also have to deal with constant enemies spawns, and must hold 2 lanes. These enemies are mostly regular enemies, but some of them are best handled with Arts damage, such as Enraged Grotesque Gravekeepers (aka red gargoyles), Mudrock Zealot Leaders (aka red Mudrock hammer guys) and Greytail Leaders (aka red shield bat guys).

Now, with all this information, let’s start formulating our bullet points on what it is we actually need:

This is how I usually set up for Big Sad Lock:

Pure red arrows are my Bear DPS. These units’ main job is to maim the bear almost exclusively, keeping a constant stream of hits going to it. You want strong single hits more than multiple hits for BSL, so as to not trigger its counter-explosion too often. Units that go on the right red arrow are those such as Ch’en the Holungday, Pinecone, Kal’tsit (Mon3tr on the tile directly to the left) to continuously pour damage into BSL, while the left red arrow is perfect for melee 1-range damage dealers like Skadi and Nearl the Radiant Knight. You want these to ideally be Physical units. Likewise, don’t use units like Exusiai or Ceobe S2, known for their extreme Attack Speed (though, of course, if your Attack Speed is some godly meme value like +400 or something, yeah, you’ll evaporate BSL, but a set up you’re not likely to get).

The Black-Red square is a special tile: Here, if you have them, is where you put Schwarz S3, Rosa, or any such unit. I personally put Schwarz S3 there and blast BSL from there. Otherwise, you can also put an AA Sniper or any such unit aimed down if you think your lane holding is not looking too hot.

The green squares are your Medics or otherwise healers like Skadi the Corrupting Heart.

The red square to the left is where you usually place a ranged unit to assist lane holding.

The blue-red arrows are lane holders, ideally damage dealer holders like Guards, Dollkeepers, or offense-oriented Defenders instead of turtles, as mob HP is overall low in this fight. The blue-red arrows to the left are double pronged because that’s a special tile that can also be used to DPS the Bear with certain units, if placed facing to the right: Pallas, Blaze S2, Thorns, and other such units can both hold that lane and assist with DPS. The right blue arrow is long to encompass the two tiles there: You can have a Lord or an Instructor behind a frontliner to hold that lane just fine. You can also use the ranged tile 2 tiles under the green square, if your deployment or strategy calls for it. Anywhere next to these arrows, you can place down a Healing Defender like Saria or Nearl for further blocking+healing if necessary.

Now that we have our placements, let’s examine the needs of the fight, based on the information we have thus far. In this section of my guides, we ask ourselves questions to organize our information into actually usable morsels of violence and wisdom:

What does the boss ask from me? -> The boss has regen if I don’t have a specific item, and even with it, it has high HP and a timer, as well as intensifying enemy spawns -> I want high damage -> But the boss counters every 20 attacks -> Prioritize fewer and heavier hits over multiple hits -> It has high RES -> Non-Multi-Hit Physical DPS for the BSL.

What does the rest of the fight ask from me? -> Several foes through 2 lanes, mostly resistant to Physical damage in one way or another -> Enough bulk and block to hold two lanes -> Enemies have low HP for the most part -> Prioritize damage over bulk, ideally Arts -> there’s constant damage from the boss’ explosions -> Bring enough healing to survive that -> High Physical damage can also deal with the enemies -> Bring Arts damage and/or high Physical damage and sufficient healing to keep your entire line alive to keep the lanes safe.

The fight is static -> The outcome of this battle is decided by how well I can set up so my units don’t die -> The battle is decided early, and it’s more about set-up than execution, of which there is very little -> Bring Vanguards if possible to hasten your set-up, as the faster you set up, the better your chances.

The boss explodes for damage constantly -> A small party with strong damage and healing fares better than a large party that I have to heal constantly, possibly running myself thin on limited Medic slots -> You don’t need a lot of units -> Thankfully, if you have what you need, the boss is easy and solves itself -> Quality over quantity, if you’re going for Bear, try your hardest to have the best of the best in your roster instead of a big overarching synergy, you don’t need much for this boss fight, just fulfill the damage and sustain requirements and you’re golden.

Once again, consult the video to see how I personally go about setting up for this fight, but, as you can see, the BSL is deceptively simple and frontloaded: If you have the tools and you lay them out properly, you win, simple as that. Once you get the hang of BSL, it’s trivial to beat it, simply because the building requirements for it are simple and straightforward, and most importantly, it requires very little execution, just on the set-up, which is just knowing targeting priority, the basis of Arknights.

BSL is mostly a very fundamental boss with lots of intimidating bells and whistles! It makes loud noises and sends enemies and grows shields but... Once you break it down, isn’t it just a very simple two-plus-two endeavor? There’s very little execution, you simply build your team on a diet of big single hit damage dealers and simple, bulky lane-holders with some damage and... You’re done. You don’t need more than that. It’s not me oversimplifying BSL, it really is that simple. It’s a boss that is difficult and scary until it just isn’t. I struggled a lot with it the first few times, until I realized, “wait, you just need like 3 things”, and now Bear runs are leisure runs.

Schwarz, Saria and Blaze S2 on the left with Corrupting Heart S2, Kal’tsit (+ Mon3tr) and Specter the Unchained on the right is the run I’ve done it with the least characters to memory. So long as your lanes don’t fall and your damage is constant... That’s it. That Bear is going nowhere, so a powerful static setup is very important.

And that’s that! We’ve finished this tour of the Maul-A-Bear Factory, now go out there and commit incredibly inspiring acts of violence!

[outworldletters]

My lovely apprentice.

I hope I have taught you enough for you to know you should not touch suspicious letters that you have found under your pillow with your bare hands.

But if you did, there is no telling what the magic I imbued these words with will do to you. Please, tell me if you feel any strange urges immediately. Like the urge to kiss me.

Just kidding! Actually, you won't be able to unglue your eyes from my words. I mean, literally. Try throwing this letter away from you.

You can’t, right?

it appears that your senses of caution haven’t improved under my tutelage

Anyway, I should have your undivided attention, no? Be a good apprentice and listen to my words.

Did I tell you we are invited to the Owlight Festival Ball? We are tasked with making sure there is no foul play in the main event. Therefore, I have been developing this gluing spell.

The ball takes place after dinner, once the street food stalls have closed and night has fallen. Lanterns of all shapes and sizes are hung on the canopy of trees, their gentle glow illuminating the dance floor covered in wildflowers. The air is filled with the sweet, succulent fragrance of nectar and the smell of underhand shenanigans I will explain later.

To take part in the ball, the guests must don their moths and butterflies inspired finery, and be blindfolded for part of the festivities.

Ah, picture us, fluttering and flying in an endless dance, spinning in a gentle whirlpool of color and light!!

The rules of this dance are simple and require you to match twice with your pair in order to win a prize. During the first dance, all the Moths guests, blindfolded, give their name-cards to the Butterfly guests. During the second dance, it is the opposite - the Butterflies exchange their cards with the Moths guests, while the Butterflies guests only have their hunches to guide them.

Can you imagine the joy we'll feel on finding our match, not once, but twice in a night?

It is all about trusting the connection that you feel in your heart and being perceptive enough to recognize the signs that your partner gives during the dance, even being blindfolded.

Or it is all about using the right tracking spells.

You would not believe the length some couples would go to guarantee they can find their spouses. I heard matching with random strangers does not do wonders for a couple that enters the ball together.

Alas, our job is to guarantee no one cheats! I trust you will study hard all the most used tracing and marking spells on the three worlds. For my part, I will be enchanting all the name-cards to ensure they cannot be traded again once exchanged.

Hence the glue spell you are currently experiencing. Neat, yes?

Would you be mad if we mismatched, my dear apprentice? Jealous? To me, matching with you would be the ultimate prize and the icing on the cake of an already perfect night. But if we do not match, I will still be incredibly proud and thrilled to have spent time with you. The festival and the prizes mean nothing to me compared to your happiness and our connection.

That being said, I am pretty confident in my abilities of finding you blindfolded.

You have a special aura that sets you apart from others, and I can always recognize it. I have become attuned to your essence, your thoughts, and your feelings. Your presence would feel familiar and your body would fit into mine perfectly. There is no darkness, no distance or separation that can ever be enough to separate us completely. For I know you like the back of my hand, my love, and I know what I am capable of when you are truly in my grasp.

You know, this festival has a sweet little story behind it. Do you want to hear it?

Ah, yes. You have no choice but to keep reading. Next time, don’t stain your fingertips with my magic, yes?

Once upon a time, there lived two birds- one a songbird and a night owl.

Although they lived under the same skies, they never saw each other.

The songbird sang every day and the song of her voice filled the owl’s dreams with melodies so pure and so exquisite that the owl fell in love with her. Yet, they never saw each other, for day and night are two worlds that never meet.

The owl, wanting to get to know their love better and not having any other option, offered something he thought a day-dweller would cherish the most - night moths. Every evening, the owl would carefully choose a moth to present to its love, putting it where they would find it.

The songbird, not knowing who offered her the gifts, was nonetheless touched by her admirer's love. She would catch and carefully select the loveliest butterfly she could find to present him.

Thus, these lovebirds continued to offer each other gifts, never knowing their time or fate is soon to come. And so, one day, a sudden change happened. As the songbird collected its butterflies, a shadow passed over.

It was the Owl, who had decided to offer something more special than moths. He was willing to hunt for something beautiful and unique to the day - something like a colorful bird that caught his eyes. However, what the owl did not realize was that his own lover was what he had caught.

I can only imagine the shock and the guilt at that moment. He thought this was what his love wanted, instead all it did was destroy them both.

And so the Devildon found that this cheerful little story was an excellent excuse to make a whole festival out of it. Demons, yes?

But I get why it would tickle their fancy. For them, it is a cautionary tale of the dangers of offering more than what ones receive. About keeping the equivalent exchange. In a way, the owl and the songbird had a clear pact going - butterflies for moths. The owl overstepped.

For a talented sorcerer like yourself, my apprentice, you seem to have almost a distaste for the give and take.

I am used to pacts. That our relationship is not built upon one makes me nervous sometimes. At first, I used to tally everything that you gave me, so I could make sure I would reciprocate you exactly. Nothing more, nothing less.

It is easy to put a price on magic and power. But you, my lovely apprentice, made me discover I had no way of measuring what you gave me.

I’ve only ever focused and obsessed over those complex, arcane patterns that I could break down and recreate into something new. All this time, I’ve lived life looking for something grand and grand and grand… yet to you, all it takes is small things. And it is through you I’ve realized that small things can also add up to something grand.

Your first gift to me was the gift of perception. I have come to cherish and find beauty in even the simplest things, like a cat sleeping on a cushion. The way the wind brushes my face or the stars glitter above me at night. Your kindness, empathy, and affection fill me with such joy every day you wake me up with a kiss good morning. The taste of food prepared by you or the comfort of a hot bath after a long day. I have even found joy in your constant teasing or the way you love to sleep on top of me at night.

I look at your face and I am immediately drawn to the simplest things - your lips curving into a smile or your gentle eyes full of questions. I love the way your eyebrows twitch when you're confused or how you tuck your hair back when it falls in front of your eyes. The invisible freckles on your nose that I could just about kiss. The way you curl your legs up underneath you to make yourself smaller when you are feeling unsure. The way your skin gets glazed by moonlight, your breath on my neck. The way you bloom under my tongue.

It is you, the grand thing I was looking for. You, the sum of all these simple, delightful little parts that makes for the complex being that is you.

My sweet, intelligent apprentice, I am more than happy to give you anything you want. You have helped me see and treasure a hundred small things I would have just glanced over and forgotten otherwise. There is not a single thing you could ask of me that would ever be too much.

You are worth more to me than you could fathom. I feel I don’t give you nearly enough. So tell me, what would you like in return? I know what you would say - you want for nothing.

The owl and the songbird: I don’t see their story as the demons do.

I believe the moths and butterflies were also representative of the Songbird and the Owl themselves. The moths, which belong to the dark, were the Owl. And the butterflies, which belong to the light, were the Songbird. The insects were, to them, representative of their bond and were the closest thing they had to communicate their feelings to one another. So, in the end, their tragic fate may also be seen as a representation of the owl and the songbird becoming unable to distinguish themselves from their offering. So much so that the songbird ended up on the beak of the owl.

This - this was your second gift ever for me - the understanding that love is not a magical transaction or a pact, nor should it be tied to what one party offers to the other.

You are not what you give me - and I am not what I give you.

I don’t want your magic or your power. Instead, I want to hold you in my arms and comfort you on your bad days. I want to be by your side and watch your dreams come true. I want you.

I love everything about you- your wit, your humor, and your sweet innocence. But what I love the most is your curiosity, your intellect, and your desire to learn and grow. I have met no one capable of asking so many questions and never being satisfied with the answers. You fascinate me with your unique take on everything, your ability to see beauty in everything around you, even things most people would deem ugly. You humble me.

Still, there is a gift and there is a pact I would wish for us to trade and firm.

First, a gift for my songbird.

It is something I already gave you long ago, which you continue to hold every single second we are together: my heart.

And as for the pact, I hope that as soon as you finish reading this letter, we can do the simplest exchange: my warmth, your presence.

With love, Solomon.

P.S. If you managed to get your eyes and fingers unglued from my words, that was just the first part of the spell. The real challenge is getting me unstuck from your mind. Good luck!

[beevean]

Do any of the Curse of Darkness adaptations say that Dracula deliberately pitted Hector against Isaac?

It just occurred to me that it would make sense for Dracula to do that (after all, one Devil Forgemaster is easier to deal with than two working in tandem, should one of them turn against him). But I haven’t read any of the CoD adaptations, so I don’t know if any of them used that idea. It would be chilling if any of them explored that.

Actually no!

Personally I'm not too sure that deliberately pitting them against each other would be more convenient to Dracula than having them be coordinated: imagine conducting a war, and having to rely on two bickering teenagers :P But in canon it's a moot point, because it's implied that Dracula simply praised Hector as the more talented one.

PtR gives us this:

"Good for you that you can judge our Lord’s deeds… It’s not bad for my position. But I will not tolerate any disservice and betrayal towards Him."

"Take a look at this pathetic sight, my Lord, my broken sword used as a cane. My body is the proof of your expectations for him. Please ridicule me, scold me: next time, I will do whatever it takes."

(for context, Hector defeated Isaac by slashing his legs, and he didn't even have the courtesy of finishing him off, forcing him to deal with the consequences)

The second line pretty much sums up how Dracula saw his two Devil Forgemasters. Isaac knows, or at the very least believes, that Dracula would have expected Hector to win because he's the stronger one, and the proof is in how he utterly humiliated Isaac.

Speaking of Dracula:

“What did he wish from me, that he even rebelled…? Unforgiveness is my nature. The more precious things are, the more they resist and are lost…”

Another translation of that line is "So is one dear, so is one wrested away".

Dracula considers Hector precious. My first interpretation is that he's also thinking about Alucard, who opposed his father roughly at the same time... But make of this what you will.

The MF manga focuses a lot more on Isaac's insecurity of not being as good as Hector, but again, we don't really see much of how the two were treated.

Something to note is that while it was Isaac who warned Dracula that Trevor Belmont was becoming a concern...

... Dracula sent Hector instead, and left Isaac in the castle.

The implication is that Dracula trusted Hector, and only Hector, with the troublesome task of killing the Belmont.

Obviously Drac wants his best Devil Forgemaster back, and so he orders Isaac and his underlings to find out what happened to him - indirectly dooming himself in the process, because without Hector and Isaac protecting him, Trevor and his friends easily steamrolled through the castle. Neither Isaac and his underlings are happy with this, but while the former's protests got immediately shut down by Dracula, the latter are free to talk among themeselves.

It's nice that these guys think Isaac alone could do the job, but I don't know what they were expecting, shittalking Dracula and touching Isaac's sorest spot within earshot :P

This scene becomes outright hilarious in Japanese, because that "the Count favored Lord Hector that much" line is slightly different:

In context it does mean the same thing, but the verb used is 可愛がる, which...

Again. Make of this what you will.

(in case you're wondering, there are other verbs that express the concept of unfairly favoring someone, that don't imply... this.)

And just to cap it all off:

And there it is. There is no canon indication that Dracula played games with his Devil Forgemasters. He just liked Hector more than Isaac.

Interestingly, Isaac is not the first rival in CV who suffers from jealousy issues (Hugh Baldwin and Maxim Kishin come to mind, mostly the former), but in his case, the topic barely comes up, and it's never mentioned in the game proper - in fact, the opposite sentiment is said.

I'm okay with this, because he has already a lot on his plate, and he doesn't need to hate Hector out of jealousy: the betrayal is good reason enough. But it's implied that these negative feelings made him easy prey to the Curse.

[fff777]

reaction part 1 to rainbow dream stay ep 1

before starting the clip, this looks like some kind of hostel roleplay lol. because you know the dreamies love to roleplay.

while the others are reading the sign about rainbow dream stay, chenji have their own local broadcast in the back

so the theme is that they have to prove their friendship level is at 825% (whatever that means lol)

jeno is here to listen to the lecturer

while mark is explaining the agenda you can still hear chattering. dreamies love chattering huhu

they are dressed as a rainbow on purpose :o mark probably loves this

chenle: jisung your hair looks so pretty jisung: why does that sound sarcastic

dream: *wrists tied together* jeno: wait let me scratch my ass first mark: LOL

they're seated in their colour order how cute <3

they get 50 points deducted if they get mad 😅

LOL the way they counteract every angry sentence with "oh my you look handsome today 😏." jisung was getting frustrated over being stretched and mark immediately saved him by being like "omg you are my pretty babies"

nahyuck flirting in the wild

so the reason they're being stretched is because jaemin at the end doesn't want to get up so they're trying to convince him with pretty words lol

mark: hey should we do the wave IS NOW THE TIME?!?!?!?!? and yet they did it anyway lmao

the way donghyuck is trying so hard to talk in his kindergarten teacher voice because otherwise he's going to beat the kids lol

this is one of those times that jeno is mischievous

me? mad? do i look mad? oh not at all!

mark: i made that beef chenle: chenle: ...then it must be SO GOOD this is just an exercise in getting the dreamies to LIE lol

haechan and jaemin are similar yet opposite people and it's so funny to watch because they are both wacky but haechan cares about winning games and jaemin doesn't care at all and the fact that they're literally at opposite ends of the spectrum just drives that point home. actually the fact that haechan and chenle are on one end and jaemin is at the other feels a bit purposeful lol.

renjun and haechan finally broke and had to yell lmao

jaemin wanted to get drinks so haechan was like ok all y'all just stay put and i'll get the drinks. he's basically that guy in the group project who does all the work because he refuses to let his group weigh him down.

eating is not as big a problem since they're all right-handed

they all have to get up since one of them needs napkins lel

while haechan was getting napkins, jeno and jaemin were eating from his plate so haechan threatened jaemin's plate by holding soy sauce over it 😭 this is really boiling down to a haechan vs jaemin war

this show is a bit trickier to film because they have to be connected by the wrists. so sometimes they have their backs to the camera and have to rely on these overhead shots. and also why i have to put in so many screenshots because it's kind of hard to explain what position they're in.

the staff gave them an option to get lobster but the guys are like "...we don't like lobster that much" because they don't want to get out of their seats again lol

jeno was like what if we just straight up pushed the tables and the rest of dream were like yeah let's, except jaemin was like guys we still have to get out of our seats to get the lobster

success via brute force, even if jaemin lost points for being grumpy

haechan losing hp because the guys didn't get their chairs

to be fair i feel like haechan and jaemin have an easier time because they only have one arm bound

jaemin got mad for getting food on his pants lol...jaemin really doesn't care about the game at all, he's just doing what he wants to do

this marksung timing was so good 😂

jaemin: MARK OPPA mark: wut jaemin: can you give me tissues pls

this corner is just having so much fun eh 😆 jaemin was saying that he'd been asking for napkins for a long time and you know he normally speaks in a very sweet tone but obviously he was miffed and markno here are laughing their little socks off

now is a dessert game? donghyuck and jeno have their eyes covered but what is jisung doing on the right

i think jisung has to prepare dessert? anyway he couldn't even put his apron on 😭😭

is chenle going to supervise :3c

jisung rejected chenle's help lol, he wants to do this on his own

chenle came back to help/tell jisung what to do but jisung's like nah i got it

chenle keeps hovering but jisung keeps telling him to go away but chenle keeps telling him what to do i love this dynamic for them lol

by the end jisung was just trying to look like a chef lol, it's all in the ✨performance✨

jaemin is NOT playing around today 😅

ok so there's one croffle made by a chef and the one made by jisung and the guys have to guess which is which

chenle was feeding haechan and jeno but he'd say "ahhhh" and then not say the person's name so they wouldn't know who he was talking to until he said their names 😅

[smoresie]

since everyone's throwing in facts about their buckshot ocs I might as well owo:

quick warning for mentions of self harm, masochism, and addiction

- Shepherd cannot truly die (this was found out after losing the third round)

- Despite his first game being a near win he has lost every game afterwards miserably (he blames this on the dealer's aura affecting him *lie he's a 🚬 *)

- His job is to well, keep the people at the club in order. (haha get it the shepherd herding the flock)

- Shepherd is a vodka person (loathes beer, but for the sake of the game *mainly dealer* he drinks it) (is he addicted to the vices? yes. does he have a problem? no.)

- Sometimes he lures people into playing the game (after leading them up the stairs and into the room, encouraging them, he immediately hides. The dealer knows about this.)

- He is under the Dealer's covenant. He is to follow any orders given to him, remain truthful, and to never leave under any circumstances (in return he faked Shepherd's death and gave him a new identity)

- Dealer was the one to bestow him the title of Shepherd (shame it doesn't fit on his typer, so he just puts his old name down, only dealer gets to call him Lamb)

- Between smoking and drinking he'll always choose to smoke (at least smoking doesn't lower your inhibitions and let it slip how in love with your boss you are I mean what that never happened)

- He's british, more cockney (the dealer likes to tease him about his accent, and it come out even more when he's miffed)

- Former doctor (was forced to resign, sometimes takes the dead bodies back home to study)

- Historical buff (specifically 1800s, you mention something from there he will never shut up)

- Masochist on a whole other level (the dealer knows about it and does indulge him sometimes, grabs the shotgun)

- This has only further after learning about his 'ability' (though he calls it a curse, the dealer thinks the opposite)

- He also doesn't like to talk bout his past much to anyone, let alone the dealer (tho will leave him notes for him to piece together maybe)

- Has multiple sh scars on his body (the usage has slowed since meeting the dealer but he has resorted to biting himself. This too is being worked with.)

- While he knows he's attracted to the dealer, shepherd has come to learn theres more to his feelings (and he hates it)

[ridiasfangirlings]

diff people of the cast raging at video games 🫶

Munakata does not rage at video games, he crafts impeccably worded missives to the game companies letting them know about the deficiencies in their products. Munakata generally doesn’t strike me as someone who would rage at video games anyway, he’s actually having fun if he’s losing because then it gives him a chance to craft various strategies in order to win. On the other hand though if there’s like a glitch causing his loss I could see him being displeased and writing angry letters like an old man responding to the newspaper editorial section. Also I feel like he might at least find himself annoyed at online multiplayer games, like he expects everyone to act in the way he’s planned and when some edgy teenager says screw off old man and Leeroy Jenkins their way through a raid Munakata starts huffing irritably and pushing up his glasses.

Yata and Fushimi I think would be opposites in this, Fushimi just quietly stews in his spite while Yata is absolutely yelling at the screen and has probably destroyed more than a few controllers by throwing them into the wall. Like imagine the two of them on multiplayer and getting defeated, Yata’s all red in the face and leaning real close to the TV all you fuckers I’m gonna kick your ass. Someone trash talks him and he’s shouting back and berating teenagers, and if he loses a boss fight because he got caught unaware he almost punches a hole in the wall. Meanwhile Fushimi is just sitting there quietly, muttering under his breath. Yata gives him a look like you okay Saruhiko and then Fushimi gives the most twisted smile as he’s like I’m fine, preparing to utterly destroy anyone who stands in his way because he’s not getting defeated by a video game.

The Homra guys probably occasionally have raging at games moments, I bet Bandou brags about how he’s a professional gamer so he never loses his temper. Akagi’s like oh hey I just beat your score and Bandou’s immediately like the hell you did what the fuck. Imagine one day Totsuka asks to play and it’s some difficult PvP multiplayer online game, the Homra guys are like sure you can try it but just be warned these guys are brutal. The Homra alphabet all go through various stages of yelling and trash talk as they try to survive but Totsuka is just smiling and smiling. In the end it’s just Totsuka and Bandou left and Bandou’s talking about how he’ll take it easy on Totsuka and while he’s talking Totsuka’s player character just casually stabs Bandou’s in the back. Bandou is immediately crushed and Totsuka’s all sparkles and happiness as he’s like this was a fun game, you guys were right.

[local-idiotic-texan]

This series and its contents contain references to gore, psychological torment, torture, suicidal tendencies, and more. If these topics are triggering to you, please leave.

This episode, in specific, contains:

Gore, Threats of Violence for the purposes of coercion into silence

Thank you.

“...I’m bored.” Melatonin Gummies spoke.

“..bored??” Birdfeed scoffed. “Of what? Of safety?”

“..yeah.” Birdfeed scowled at Melatonin for a few moments, before sighing.

“...I get what he's saying, maybe…” Friendship Bracelet spoke.

“Bracelet… noo..” Flashlight sighed.

“No! No, I don't think he meant it, like ACTUALLY!” She clarified. “I mean, like, I think he's asking when Hostess will start the games?”

“Ohhh…” Flashlight nodded. “We’re running low on supplies… I hope soon.”

“Do you even hear yourselves? You’re HOPING we go back to the chambers of torture that… THING is putting us through?” Bunsen Burner said, infuriated.

“Calm down - and, besides, I… have to agree.” Boba Milk Tea sighs.

Before Bunsen Burner could scold the three, Birdfeed held him back. “Think about it this way. If we go through those chambers, sure, we might die a painful death,” He now turned Bunsen Burner around, to make eye contact. “but are you seriously suggesting staying here, starving to death is better than whatever is past that door?”

Bunsen Burner scowls. “...fine, but only for all of you. I’d rather not leave you to die to…”

“Meeee~?” Hostess asks. “Hiii~! I’m baaaackkk… did you guys misssss me? :3”

“Not really.” Burner replies.

“Awww, thank you!!” Hostess speaks over Burner, giving no breathing room. “Are you all ready for the next gammmeee~?”

Mostly everyone groans.

“Yayyy!!! Well, what are we waiting for?!” Hostess asks. “Come on in!”

The door to the next chamber opens.

“Of course, unless, you, oddly, DON’T wanna play anymore? I guess you COULD hold out in the Waiting Room, buuuuut you’ll run out of food… eventually, anyway. =)” Hostess speaks, almost hostile in tone, directing it to Bunsen, it seems.

Regardless, eventually everyone comes on in.

“ALRIGHT! EVERYONE! VOTE. =)”

Nobody does, they're far too scared.

“..vote.”

“N-no..?” Alarm Clock shys.

“Why not.”

“Last time we voted on something, the person voted for had a BEARTRAP crush their throat and jaw??” Ice Cube Tray retaliates.

“Well, if you don't VOTE for anyone this time, then I’ll—” A voice cuts her off.

“Allow me.” Bunsen had spoken up.

“Oh? A volunteer? Any opposition?” The Hostess asks.

“...what are you doing?” Birdfeed asked Bunsen. “Trust me on this. I’ll be fine.” Bunsen waves Birdfeed off.

“..I’m not hearing any “no”s! THEREFORE! BUNSEN BURNER WINS THIS TIME. =)”

The chair within the room now extends out some metallic arms, whipping Bunsen Burner into the chair, strapping him to it.

The screen in the room activated.

“LET’S PLAY A GAME! In-front of you, Bunsen Burner is being forced to wear an empty, unused terrarium!” Hostess announces, as the chair does as she says. “If you cannot find the key needed to release him within 60 seconds, the vat of acid above him will begin to leak, slowly killing him! Fun, right? :)”

The contestants groan. “START!”

Quickly, they do as they’re told. Committing to a process of elimination involving all 11 contestants trying all 100 possible keys… well… 10.

Birdfeed wasn't immediately helping.

“What are you doing?” Flashlight asked in-between turns.

“..hello?” Newspaper tries to get his attention, too.

It is only until 20 seconds to that Birdfeed makes a move. “Stop everything.” He ordered.

Quickly, he picked one of the 21 keys still available, then used it.

Click.

Bunsen Burner was immediately released from the trap. “..huh. Nice work.”

“Thanks. Learned it in ‘nam.” Birdfeed replied.

“..wait, how old are you t—” Alarm Clock was cut off by a groan.

“...congratulations… Bunsen Burner is STILL alive. Yay.” Hostess sighs as she opens the door to the next room over. “The games continue… yay.”

As the contestants are walking into the next room, Hostess starts giggling.

“..well, for a moment. You see, I wasn't expecting Bunsen Burner to survive…” Hostess shagrins in her voice.

“So?” The subject in question asks.

“So.. I’ll simply.. eliminate you anyways. :)”

Suddenly, a bucket of acid pours over Bunsen Burner, killing him instantly.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Birdfeed screamed.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” Newspaper asked.

“NO! GENUINELY, ¡¿PÓR QUE TÚ HACES ESO?!” Heart added on.

“Well, I don't have spares!” Hostess argues back.

“NO! YOU KNOW WHAT WE’RE ON ABOUT! AND YOU KNOW IT, TOO! WHY EVEN LET US SAVE HIM THEN?! SERIOUSLY, ALL I SEE NOW IS A RIGGED, UTTERLY USELESS—”

Flashlight’s collar beeps.

then Hearts.

then Birdfeed.

One by one, everyone’s collar begins to beep simultaneously.

“I have the ability to kill you.

Right.

This.

Second.

Don't make do that.”

Flashlight sighs.

“..very good, dears.” Hostess now clears her throat.

“NOW! Please, all of you, wear a mask!” She returned to her cheery demeanor.

The masks in question were smooth. White, they had nose holes, no expression in specific, and their eyes were simply ovual.

“Make sure it fits SNUG to your face! <3” She claps.

The contestants now tie the masks to their face with the strand in the back.

“Let me check..” there's rustling on her end, followed by cheering. “Oh, yay! Our first MINI game!”

“Mini?!” C4 asks.

“Yes, yes! This is a little bonus! You were all entertainment plenty, that, I just HAD to make an extra little game for you all!” Hostess whoops.

“god fucking damnit…” Friendship Bracelet whimpers.

“The game is STATUES! Inside this room are plenty of little friends, so cute, so adorable! They're so friendly, they’ll crawl allllll over you!” The Hostess giggles.

“So you're putting us into a room full of pests to see which one of us is bitten first and dies to rabies?” Newspaper asks.

“Not exactly! You see, it’d be really boring if you could just always KNOW what was touching you…” The Hostess now reveals the actual challenge of this contest. “...so, music will be playing from the masks! Every 15 seconds, you MUST close your eyes, or you’ll be eliminated!” She giggles. “The rules, therefore, are simple! Only keep your eyes open for 15 seconds, close them for 5, then progress! Simple, right?”

“NO?! WHAT THE FUCK?! I- I DON’T—” Alarm Clock started to ring, but she was silenced.

“GO! X3”

The doors open, and immediately, the room is pungent.

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT??” Friendship Bracelet almost immediately began to gag from the stench emitting from the room.

Immediately though, the music began playing through the masks. A hippy pop song, upbeat and obnoxious - just how The Hostess likes it.

“Come on, come on!” Flashlight begged for the other to follow behind her. To which they did, besides Alarm Clock, who Flashlight had to drag along. “OH!! Ohh.. sorry—” BEEP BEEP! “AH!”

Everyone shut their eyes tight. For 5 seconds, millions of tiny footsteps were heard. Crawling. Scurrying. Running.

BEEP BEEP! Flashlight immediately opened her eyes and started dragging along Alarm Clock.

Moth began her own strategy, though, she picked up some few people - Friendship Bracelet, Heart, and Boba Milk Tea. It was through her strength that she began to fly across the room.

BEEP BEEP! She had crashed into a wall. The others, however? They could now hear the second swarm - a buzz. Flies, bees, wasps, beetles all swarming angrily upon the roaches below them and the giants near them.

BEEP BEEP! Newspaper begins to groan. “There's too many, we’re gonna have to crush some of these!” Flashlight nods. “then that's what we have to do!”

“Hate to break it to you, but we can't CRUSH mice!” C4 winced as the masks beeped again.

Thousands of tiny hands, tiny creatures, little entities of curiosity, began to climb around and on the contestants.

Alarm Clock began to whimper. Flashlight held her tight. “Don't look. Don't look. You mustn't look. Just DON’T. LOOK.”

BEEP BEEP! Alarm Clock immediately began to scream, flinging mice away from her as she ran from Flashlight. “ALARM CLOCK!” Newspaper yelled out.

The others began to run towards her, rushing across a patch of poison ivy laced with rose thorns.

BEEP BEEP! ..nobody knew what was walking around now.

There was a growl. Moreover, a scitter.

then a bite. Ice Cube Tray whinced “FUCKK.. hhhhhnnnGGGGG.”

It was then that Alarm Clock broke the one rule of this contest - to never open your eyes when it isn't time. “WHAT THE FUCK?!” She screamed.

Her Masked buzzed, and immediately, she began to scream. During the entire process, however, nobody was not allowed to see what was happening to her.

“Alarm Clock? ALARM CLOCK??” Friendship Bracelet called out.

“ALARM CLOCK WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING??????” Ice Cube Tray asked.

It would take until Alarm Clock’s screams turned into gargles for the Masks to beep again - signifying to the contestants that they’d be allowed to open their eyes.

Ice Cube Tray now winced and flailed as he found a Rabid Raccoon had been slowly eating into his leg, tearing apart skin from flesh and feasting on what it could. “FUCK FUCK FUCK OW FUCK NO NO NO FUCK OW SHIT OH GOD” Ice Cube Tray screamed, blood now running down his ankle.

“FUCK FUCK SHIT - WHAT HAPPENED??” Flashlight, after helping Ice Cube Tray up and handing him off to Birdfeed, picked up Alarm Clock’s corpse.

“COME ON!” Newspaper called out - Birdfeed, Flashlight, and Ice Cube Tray barely made it to the finishing room in time for the masks to beep one last time - this time, falling off their faces…

…all but Alarm Clock’s, that is.

In a moment of tension, Flashlight, lightly shaking, pulled on Alarm Clock’s mask.

but it did not budge.

“...what the fuck..?” Suddenly, though, as Flashlight pulled on the mask, it came ripped off - Alarm Clock’s face still melted onto it, revealing a bloodshow underneath.

“OHMYGOD, WHAT?!” Friendship Bracelet screamed with Flashlight. The other contestants, save Melatonin Gummy, Moth, and Birdfeed all panicked.

“Oh, hush yourselves! Shhhh..~!” The Hostess crackled over the intercom. “Alarm Clock failed the game! The Masks were installed with thermo-remote control systems up to 6500°F! Had any of you failed, like Alarm Clock here, I’d activate the systems - essentially, you’d immediately start gargling on your very own melted skin, flesh, bone, and more!” She jeered.

“OH MY GOD, WHAT??” Newspaper cried. “Erhm… ehh… Madame! Lady! Hello!!” Corazón called out. “The blue one was, ehm, bit!! By a Raccoon!”

The Hostess now hummed. “Oh, how sad! Those Raccoons had rabies - he’ll die.. :)”

“YOU’RE GONNA LET HIM DIE?! WHAT THE FUCK?!” Boba Milk Tea cried - before The Hostess had her laugh.

“Of course not, silly!” Some shelves now revealed themselves to the contestants - a collection of 210 canned foods, 140 water bottles, and a First Aid Kit and Wildlife Incident Kit slid down chutes and onto them. “I’m telling you people to heal him! If you're really THAT concerned, wouldn't you treat the injury, hm?”

“..what the fuck.” C4 shuddered. “Profanity! Anyhow, I’ll be on my way - you guys will stay there for the week! You deserve it! Toodles!” The Intercom now fizzled out as Birdfeed grabbed the Wildlife incident kit.

“...please make it quick.” Ice Cube Tray begged. “..can't promise anything.” Birdfeed replied, now treating the bite - the others, though? Just stared. Waiting for the day the next door would open.

END.

The Smileshow was written by TheWiseGuest.

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[incaensio]

katniss feels awfully content at his words, though immediate response is a snort and quick self-effacing, masked by self-defense. "i ain't." but she was; sometimes she still felt the itch to put word to paper, a rare habit that lingered from assignments for writing class made at the table by moonlight, but, over the years, she realized wasting paper was not worth it, and the more the words slipped away from her, the more frustrating it all turned. "i ain't good talkin' 'bout things i ain't care 'bout." but the mentor tries telling herself, as he and the rest of their team had, that claudius would stick to topics that would require less showmanship from her part - - though it only makes her worry about his line of questioning, and how she'll be able to contain the sharpness of her thoughts in order to get them out of the quell without more threats uttered against them.

she's not particularly offended at the idea of haymitch taking care of her; certainly she feels she does the opposite much better, but it's undeniable that their mentor has made a habit, against his own instincts and trauma, of assuring she's alive and mostly safe from further harm. she thinks she understands this, him, somewhat better now, and she trusts their mentor to continue doing this, and to keep to his word. "we'll take care of each other." katniss settles by. "we're his family, y'know?" it's what she told haymitch, hoping to get him to see that what held them as such, the first thing that tied them all together unexpectedly had been peeta; as she voices the kinship now, instead of discomfort or even distate at the thought, she only feels more assured that, in keeping the two of them alive this year, haymitch has managed to do for them what he couldn't do for over two dozen people in those twenty five years out of his poisonous forest.

all thought of haymitch is gone as peeta beckons her as his wife. once, a title so heavy that made every muscle in her body tense, now it makes her almost shiver in content, an expectation visible as she gazes up at him as he approaches. they stay like this for several minutes - - bent together, intertwined, her hands on the hair of his nape, their tongues grazing, their chests pressed together. the new forged familiarity of the fire rests between them and katniss tugs on his hair just a little harder, a tell-tale sign she's about to climb him until there's no possibility for physical distance between them; she doesn't do that this time, however, but she opens her eyes and refuses to pull herself away from him. "i will miss you." its just a whisper, only audible to him because their mouths are but a couple of inches apart; expressing her sentiments shall become easier, little by little, but, now, she thinks words always feel insufficient. does he get it that being away from him feels like being pulled apart and then put back together, only with a piece missing?

a hand goes to his chest, finding her missing piece still trumming fast under her fingertips. when they're like this, it feels like snow can take everything from her, but this, not peeta, alive and well and next to her. "we're goin' home after this freakin' show thing, together." she doesn't care if the games stretch out, or who will win them; hazelle is going to die soon, and the quarter quell will be done, all she'd rather think of is to be in his arms in their bed, the one safe place left.

She starts out with few words. The dress is something. Peeta gives her a look, a little scrunch of his nose, as though to tell her that's all you got? But she keeps going, describing each piece in detail. The layered skirt like a flower he'd once drawn in her plant book. The gold details, the transparent straps. Heavy, like real gold. The last one would be shocking, but this is the Capitol, so he can believe it.

He closes his eyes just briefly to tuck it away. The real thing will probably look different than in his image, but he captures the thought in his mind, picturing her standing in it looking almost as beautiful as she does just laying next to him in their bed. He opens his eyes and smiles. "And ya say you're not good with words," he tells her teasingly because she'd just described the thing in perfect detail and yet she's worrying about going up on stage.

"You say tha' like it's a bad thing," he continues his jest as she walks away from him, but he doesn't try to fight it anymore. Katniss is right - they have limited time until the interviews and it wouldn't look good on either of them if they started late. They have to be on their best behavior, Snow's perfect little victors, if they're going to convince him that they're worth the cost of staying alive.

He's up for the challenge of her hair and tells her so with a little smirk, but it's the comment about Haymitch that turns him more sincere. It's not everyday that Katniss compliments their mentor, especially about the job he's doing. "Yeah, he's really makin' an effort," Peeta agrees, always trying to see the best in people. It's not that hard, when it comes to Haymitch. While there's still a bit of something lurking inside at being left to die, he doesn't hold it against him. They'd made a deal - it had been Peeta's idea, even - and all Haymitch had done was keep his end of the bargain.

But saying you're willing to die and slowly dying while hanging on are two different things.

It seems to matter less now, though. Haymitch had been one of the only people who showed up for Peeta after the Games, after he'd lost his leg. Even Katniss hadn't bothered to walk the twenty steps down the lane to his house. That means something to him, even now. "You tell 'im to take care of you for me," he says affectionately. "Not that you need it, of course," he adds with a laugh. "If anythin', maybe I should be tellin' you to take care of him."

They finish up their prep together. Soft conversation throughout the room, his prep team even making casual small talk with hers. And when he's almost done, he looks up to see Katniss is back. She's got make up on her face and looks about ready for the dress, just the same sort of touches they'll have to give him later too. She wants a kiss and, gently, Peeta touches the hand of Collort. "Thank you," he says softly, kindly. "But I gotta kiss my wife real quick."

It's not quick.

He stands to take her face in both his hand and gently places a kiss to her lips that lingers for longer than it should with an audience.

[door]

Knives Out Reference Guide

hello it’s your friendly neighborhood obsessive murder mystery fan here. the knives out films are delightful for a number of reasons, one of which is that rian johnson is a huuuuuge movie nerd and loves to include references and hat tips in his films. i have had great fun recognizing those references, so here is a little guide! some of this is based on things johnson has said and some of it on my own observations. i’ll indicate which is which for the purists.

first off, if you’re not interested in having these pointed out to you but want a viewing list, here it is! i’ll put everything else under a cut (which will have glass onion spoilers, so beware). these are great movies for knives out reasons but also for normal film reasons, and i highly recommend them.

Sleuth (1972) Death on the Nile (1978) The Last of Sheila (1973) Evil Under the Sun (1982)

First off: Benoit Blanc himself.

Blanc is very clearly meant to be an homage to gentlemen sleuths of the past, and Johnson even gives us a clue as to which gentleman sleuth he was thinking of with Blanc, with his Southern gentleman amidst the Northerners aping Hercule Poirot’s Belgian-amongst-the-Brits. Johnson has also said that Peter Ustinov is his favourite portrayer of Poirot (fun fact: he was also Agatha Christie’s!--not that she lived to see David Suchet take on the role), and personally I think having Blanc direct the questioning from the piano in Knives Out was an echo of Poirot at the piano in a similar scene in Death on the Nile.

That said, I think there’s a lot of Miss Marple (and Jessica Fletcher, who is herself a modern Miss Marple) in Blanc. The way he has a tendency to observe while deputizing a younger assistant to do the actual snooping for him is very Jane Marple. And he weaponizes the lil-ol’-me Southern gentleman act in much the way Marple made use of the assumptions people in her day and age had about retiring spinsters.

now let’s get into the FILMS. the first one is easy, because it’s really just Sleuth. (1972. i cannot stress this enough--Sleuth 1972.) it does not share a plot, but Knives Out is clearly paying a lot of tribute. Sleuth is a film in which two men, one older and richer and laurence olivier and the other younger and poorer and michael caine, attempt to outwit one another in order to win the woman they both love but who we never see (and yes it’s very very homoerotic). (fun fact: Sleuth was originally a play by Anthony Schaffer--who also wrote the screenplay for Death on the Nile!--who based the elder character in part on Stephen Sondheim, who loved to play games.) it’s set entirely inside the rambling manor house belonging to olivier’s character, a mystery writer, and it’s full of figurines and automatons, and otherwise weird old shit. you seeing how this lines up?

there’s even a very direct tribute in the form of the sailor you see almost immediately in the film.

however, aside from the setting and the blueprint for harlan’s character, there aren’t a lot of similarities between Knives Out and Sleuth. Knives Out is much more a play on general mystery tropes than it is a specific mystery movie.

Glass Onion is very much the opposite.

(FROM THIS POINT ON, GLASS ONION SPOILERS ABOUND)

Glass Onion is playing very deliberately on The Last of Sheila. The Last of Sheila (written by Anthony Perkins and Stephen Sondheim name a more iconic duo i’ll wait) is about a wealthy and powerful man who invites a group of old friends onto his yacht (”Sheila”) in order to play a series of games (i see u Stephen) and perhaps solve a mystery? (the mystery is who killed his wife, Sheila.) The friends all come in spite of misgivings because they all need something from their host.

Glass Onion is about a wealthy and powerful man who invites a group of old friends onto his private island in order to play a game and solve a mystery (the mystery is who “killed” him). the friends all come in spite of misgivings because they all need something from their host.

so you see what’s he’s done there.

it’s a very loving tribute, and johnson has put his own distinctive spin on it, both with the addition of a detective who nobody expected to be there, as well as the inexperienced assistant whom he’s deputized. but unlike your typical watson and very like marta’s character in Knives Out, helen in Glass Onion has a huge personal stake in solving the mystery. also, of course, Miles is a very specific, recognizable piece of shit.

but door, you might be saying, because you have very closely read this post for some reason, what about Evil Under the Sun? oh, i am so glad you asked!

Evil Under the Sun is another Ustinov Poirot mystery, set in a resort on a private island. The trappings of Glass Onion owe much to it, from the luxury getaway setting (complete with swim fits), to the opportunity to have your characters dress for cocktails, to the “hourly dong” (based on Evil’s “hourly gun”). oh, and i know this was deliberate:

so! that’s what i’ve got! if you noticed other things i missed (i’ve only seen Glass Onion once at this point), please let me know! 

[twistedtummies2]

Good & Evil - Heroic Antagonists

Welcome to Good & Evil: A Study of Heroes & Villains. I’m discussing different forms of heroic and villainous characters, different types of protagonists and antagonists, and providing examples of them each from various sources. Yesterday, I discussed the concept of the Villain Protagonist. This time, I will be discussing the polar opposite of that: the Heroic Antagonist. If the Villain is the Hero of Their Own Story, as the saying goes, then it stands to reason the opposite is generally also true: the Hero is the Villain of Someone Else’s Story. Heroic Antagonists are, once again, exactly what they sound like: they are the antagonist of the tale, but they are also the good guy of the piece. Just as long as there have been Villain Protagonists, so, too, have there been Heroic Antagonists, but if you think having a Villain Protagonist automatically equates to there being a Heroic Antagonist, you’d be quite wrong. I used “Medea” as an example of an early Villain Protagonist story in my previous entry: Medea, herself, is undeniably the villain of her own story, but the main antagonist - her cheating husband, Jason, who abandons her and scorns her despite all she’s done for him and despite being father to her children - is hardly the most “heroic” character out there, at least by most modern standards.

This is not to say that’s never the case. Take, for instance, the video game “Assassin’s Creed: Rogue.” The story focuses on one Shay Cormac, who is a member of the heroic Assassins - a secret society - at the start of the story. However, by the end of the game, Shay has turned his coat, and become a member of the villainous Templars, the Assassins’ arch-rivals. By making the main protagonist follow the path of a villain, albeit a sympathetic one, this inevitably causes Shay’s former allies to become his antagonists: chiefest among them is his best friend, Liam O’Brien. At the start of the game, Liam and Shay are practically brothers, but by the end of the story, Shay is forced to kill his own friend, in order to prove his loyalty to his new cause. Liam, meanwhile, remains steadfastly true to the beliefs of the Assassins, and despite the betrayal he feels at Liam’s hands…when Liam says he did it to try and help the world, Llam’s final words are, “I hope that world is a good one.”

For me, the quintessential Heroic Antagonist - the one I think of immediately when I ponder the phrase or archetype - is Tom Hanks’ character in the film “Catch Me If You Can,” called Carl Hanratty. Carl is a good guy doing a good thing: he’s a federal agent who is out to capture an elusive criminal. Carl understands that the world isn’t black and white: he sympathizes with the person he’s chasing, at times, and in the end, the two of them actually become friends. The criminal he’s after - Leonardo DiCaprio as Frank Abagnale, Jr. - is, in turn, not really a villain so much as an anti-hero. For Carl, catching Frank is just a job he has to do, and it’s not always one he does happily. And while the two of them cause trouble for each other, in the end, not only does Carl help Frank turn over a new leaf, but the pair go from rivals and nemeses to partners.

It wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t give Twisted Wonderland some attention, in my mind. Ironically, though, the character I’ve chosen to discuss is NOT one of the many, MANY lads based on the classic Disney Villains of yore. Instead, I decided to credit Neige LeBlanche: the character based on Snow White. While the main antagonist of Chapter 5 in the game is the Evil Queen character, Vil Schoenheit, Neige actually counts as an antagonist, too: the whole chapter revolves around a song and dance contest, which Vil and the protagonists of the story are desperate to win. Neige is their competition, and he’s in it to win. However, Neige is not depicted as a spoiled brat, nor as an uppity know-it-all, nor any other kinds of really negative personality types. Neige is, in fact, a very earnest, sweet, and honestly not exceptionally bright young man who holds no ill will towards anybody. He just likes having a good time with his friends, and genuinely likes Vil. There’s not a mean or evil bone in Neige’s body: he is ultimately only an antagonistic presence because the protagonists need to try and defeat him in the contest.

Cobra Bubbles from the Disney movie “Lilo and Stitch” may not be the MAIN antagonist of his respective movie, but he is, nevertheless, an interesting example. Cobra is a former Men-in-Black-style government agent who has, somehow, become a social worker. Throughout the film, his whole deal is trying to make sure Lilo is well taken care of by her sister, Nani; the threat Cobra poses is separating the sisters and sending Lilo away if he feels Nani can’t do the job properly. There is no ill will in Cobra’s actions or desires: he legitimately wants to do what’s good for Lilo, and he understands Nani’s position. It’s not a job he LIKES doing, he’s not out to try and hurt anybody, and as the film goes on, we see more and more that he truly is a good person just doing what he thinks is best. He’s not misguided or in any way rotten: he’s only the antagonist because he threatens the precious state of “Ohana” the family has managed to maintain.

A very recent example is The Chief from the Netflix version of “Carmen Sandiego.” In earlier versions of the franchise, the Chief was a supporting Hero figure, with Carmen as a (usually) Sympathetic Villain. This is not the case in the Netflix show, where Carmen is reimagined as the Misunderstood Hero, trying to stop the Villains of VILE. The Chief and her team, the ACME Detective Agency, remain the de-facto heroes of the story, however, but they are also the secondary antagonists after VILE and its agents. However, the Chief herself is not in any way an evil character: she doesn’t want to harm Carmen, or necessarily even bring her to justice. She wants the same thing Carmen wants, to stop VILE in their tracks. The Chief becomes the antagonist simply because she misinterprets Carmen’s actions.

Heroic Antagonists may not get as many kudos as Villain Protagonists, but they are, in my opinion, no less interesting. In stories where a Villain Protagonist is present and facing a Heroic Antagonist, the Heroic Antagonist’s role is usually fairly straightforward: it’s the usual “Hero vs. Villain” game, just now we’re seeing it from the opposite side of the spectrum. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course, but just as Villain Protagonists will not always face Heroic Antagonists, these types of characters will not always face Villains either. What’s intriguing about Heroic Antagonists is that they effectively go against the grain of what most Heroic archetypes stand for: while most Heroes provide hope of some kind, acting as beacons in a dark world, Heroic Antagonists are usually there to create tension and suspense. We know they’re out to do what’s best, but because they stand in opposition of whatever our main character may be, they become characters we almost dread showing up. Usually, however, their good qualities do shine through, and remind us once again that there are two sides to every story…and when a story reaches a happy conclusion, you can be sure these Antagonists will be the ones who help to make it happen.

[catboyebooks]

hi. holy shit it's april now. anyway, after Literal Months(!!) of trying to write this post, i've decided "fuck it" and am just posting what i've got. it's messy. it's rather minimally proofread. it's rambly. it's over 3000 words long, so i am putting it under the cut.

in order to explain what i mean i think i need to approach this like i’m making a closing argument and just try and walk through it all chronologically. or maybe i don’t need to, but i think since i’ve been liveblogging the same visual novel for over a year and going completely insane over this one fictional guy in particular i need to just embrace it and go off the deep end. so before i talk about komaeda’s chapter 5 “getting myself murdered in front of you to forever change your bond and alter the trajectories of your lives” plot, i need to clearly establish several things about komaeda first. and to do that, we need to back up to chapter 4. in order to understand the shift in komaeda’s behavior that happens after he receives the information reward for playing “max difficulty” russian roulette, we need to understand where his head was at before that happened. of course, that’s exactly why said perspective switch happens at that point in the story. komaeda’s FTEs are optional, but must be completed prior to chapter 4’s investigation if at all and provide additional insight to his character i’m going to be citing here. 

enough preamble, i’m gonna lay this out using bullet points:

regarding honesty: i’ve already said this so much but i feel i must begin with this. komaeda is not above lying, and he’s good at it when he has to, but he is by no means a habitual or compulsive liar. he in fact has the opposite problem where he talks way too much about his weird hope agenda all the time, and all of that is honest. his beliefs on hope, talent, etc. are genuine and deeply held.

regarding his talent: komaeda does not consider his luck to be a Real Talent™, and, as with hinata, this is a point of insecurity for him. however, he can and does work his luck to his advantage; he’s able to rely on his luck to protect him or to sway events in his favor in situations where anyone else’s odds would be terrible. in one of his FTEs he refers to his luck as a form of absolute power. there’s clearly a bit of a god complex thing going on there, in addition to the insecurity.

regarding hinata’s talent: prior to finding out for sure that hinata was in the reserve course, komaeda already suspects that hinata doesn’t have a talent. starting at the beginning of chapter 4 he takes an increased interest in finding out what hinata’s talent is, likely prompted by the revelations about tsumiki we got immediately before (i’ll come back to this), and by his final FTE it’s confirmed that he has (per usual for him) more or less solved this one in advance. his enthusiasm about getting to find out hinata’s talent during the 2-4 perspective switch is most likely him being in denial. if hinata isn't talented, that forces him to question his feelings for hinata, and/or his views on talented vs. untalented people, and clearly he does not want to question either.

regarding the killing game: again, prior to the info he gets in chapter 4, komaeda thinks their best course of action is to play the killing game; he figures that that way, at least, one of the incredibly talented people here might make it off the island and be able to use their talent to bring hope to the world, and that this beats the alternative of no one getting to leave the island. he doesn’t think he should be the one to win the killing game since he doesn’t think his “talent” counts as one and figures he’s dying anyway, hence trying to get himself killed / offering his services as an accomplice repeatedly. this is also why he goes into every trial having already more or less solved the case yet still refusing to reveal his hand; as is outright confirmed during the chapter 4 POV switch, he plays the game this way so that he can decide at trial whether he’d prefer to side with the killer or with the rest of the group.

further important context here, i think, is how chapter 3 played out. not to dwell on all that again, but that trial clearly bothered komaeda in a way the previous ones hadn’t, which makes sense as it would have directly challenged his worldview. komaeda believes talent brings about hope and that hope is absolute good, yet tsumiki used her talent to murder two people for the sake of despair. and it wasn’t because she was sick, as he initially believed, but because she got her memories back. the implications for the rest of them are not good. as i alluded to above, i think this is why hinata’s talent suddenly becomes a much more pressing issue to komaeda in chapter 4 — he’d been taking it on faith before that hinata is talented and simply forgot, but he has reason to question that now and there’s certainly been nothing to suggest hinata is anything other than an ordinary guy. 

this bit is speculation, because komaeda does not let on at any point prior to chapter 4’s trial that he suspects they’re in VR, but i do think he most likely had suspicions. part of why i suspect this is just that he’s very smart and very good at mystery-solving and there have been clues. hinata’s actually picked up on plenty of the weirdness himself, to the point where i think the primary reason he hasn’t solved it is that there’s always some more immediate problem to focus on. notably, in chapter 4 kuzuryuu also talks about how when he was recovering in the hospital he began thinking that maybe the whole killing game is some sort of collective dream they’re all having — which is pretty damn close to being correct, and it’s clear that he got so close to solving this mystery because he was stuck in the hospital with nothing else to do but think about their situation. komaeda spent almost all of chapter 2 tied up and alone, then was seriously ill and bedridden for about half of chapter 3, so he’s also had plenty of time to reflect.

once komaeda gets the info reward in chapter 4, there’s a notable shift in his behavior, which hinata is slow to pick up on because he initially assumes this is about him not having a talent after all. to be clear, it’s not really about that. komaeda thinks talent is a Big Deal, yes, but finding out hinata 1) doesn’t have a talent and 2) is a war criminal doesn’t actually change how he feels about hinata even though he thinks it ought to (he outright says this to hinata right before the trial) and, like i said, he already suspected the lack of talent so that part at least isn’t a shock. talent is also a major point of insecurity for hinata, so he views komaeda’s comments about his lack of a talent as particularly cruel and upsetting, but while komaeda is certainly making said comments to needle hinata on purpose nothing he says is actually all that nasty. it tends to be on the level of “oh i didn’t expect a reserve course student to know what an octagon is” — bitchy, yes, but a fairly tame comment especially considering he knows he’s talking to a war criminal. komaeda also tells hinata later (during what’s actually their last one-on-one conversation in this game) that he shouldn’t take the talent comments so seriously, and during his final video message he acknowledges he shouldn’t have been teasing hinata about the talent thing and says he gets it, he wants to be the protagonist too.

the thing that actually seems to bother komaeda the most about hinata’s lack of a talent, aside from the disconnect between how he thinks he should feel about hinata in light of this and how he actually feels, is that hinata hasn’t accepted his lot in life as a talentless person in the way that komaeda has. hinata actively tried to attend hope’s peak despite not having a talent, and has been interacting with the others as their peer even though he’s not “actually” one of them. komaeda’s evidently rather scandalized by this, as he lectures hinata about how talent is innate and not something that can be aspired to, but (as i think i said at the time) it’s also interesting to note here that he does not take the opportunity to empathize with hinata here nor emphasize their similarities as the two token untalented guys. he actually flips the narrative here and suddenly begins acting as though hinata, as opposed to himself, is the sole untalented person in the group, and this is where i think the previously-mentioned grandiosity about his luck ties in. it’s at this point that komaeda suddenly begins talking about his luck a lot more frequently, and with a different tone than before — he refers to it as a talent, repeatedly says his luck is something he believes in and can rely on, and makes a point of “casually” bringing up having played russian roulette with an almost fully loaded gun in front of hinata and nanami in a way where he’s clearly hoping to impress them. 

i’ve said this repeatedly about komaeda, but while he does sincerely believe in the talent = hope = absolute good stuff and takes hope’s peak’s entire talent ideology extremely seriously, there seems to be another level on which he’s questioning it. teetering on the brink of a realization that the whole thing is bullshit perhaps. 

for all that he makes a big deal out of how he admires his talented classmates and doesn’t consider himself worthy of being their peer because compared to them he’s garbage etc etc, he also loves pushing people’s buttons for funsies and he delights in being a bitch about it whenever he gets to prove how smart he is. obviously he’s clever enough to recognize that out of everyone here he’s getting the best grades in solving murder, despite being the token untalented guy. meanwhile the talented people aren’t exactly behaving like symbols of hope. he can’t even get anyone to agree with him when he explains his ideology, not even fellow hope’s peak fanboy hinata, and he’s clearly taken aback when they disagree with him and tell him he’s crazy. add in the overall implausibility of the current situation, the reveal about tsumiki in chapter 3, and the dawning realization he’s having in chapter 4 that hinata might just be a normal guy, and i think one can only conclude that komaeda must have been having some second thoughts about his worldview prior to getting the info reward. 

remember again that said info reward had to have been intended specifically for him. no one else would have even been nuts enough to attempt playing russian roulette like that, so i’ve no doubt that whatever information komaeda was given about shsl despair (we still haven’t seen it and i’m not sure if we ever do actually) was aimed at upsetting him specifically. and it would, since it directly contradicts what he believes about talent (rather than using their talents to inspire hope, every single person here became a despair terrorist instead), about himself (komaeda’s very adamant about hating despair, but oops, turns out he also decided to do despair terrorism after graduating), and about hinata (surely if komaeda likes a guy that guy must be super talented and full of hope and so on, but turns out said guy is not in fact talented and is in fact also a despair terrorist… and komaeda still likes him anyway?). i think it’s safe to conclude that the mastermind intended to shatter his worldview, and, based on the shift in his behavior that occurs following this, the metaphorical bullet (hehe) must have hit home.

so when komaeda stops being polite, starts talking about his luck like it’s a real talent now suddenly, bosses everyone else around during the investigation and attempts to deliver his own closing argument during the trial, declares the killing game to be “a farce” and says he doesn’t want to die with the rest of them, and so on, i think we can infer roughly what’s going on in his head:

obviously finding out that the people you are interacting with are not in fact shining beacons of hope, but instead are war criminals, makes you a lot less inclined to be respectful

komaeda may have believed luck to be a shitty fake talent up till now but he’s certainly been able to make use of it during the killing game, and technically according to hope’s peak luck is at least potentially a talent. meanwhile hinata doesn’t even have a talent at all and it hasn’t stopped him from acting like the protagonist the entire damn game, soooo… what’s stopping komaeda from taking charge of the situation? after all, if the reserve course guy can do it…

again, what with the reveal about the terrorism, komaeda’s clearly rethinking whether anyone here should get to leave the island. he’s starting to think that if one of his classmates won the killing game it might be bad actually and i don’t blame him

he’s figured out more than the mastermind intended about the situation. of course AI!junko wasn’t going to tell komaeda about her actual plan, but he did manage to figure out that there is an actual plan for which the killing game is merely the opening act. it’s likely part of how he realized this was by noticing the parallels between this killing game and the previous one — what would be the point of just doing the same killing game twice, unless this one was actually leading up to something else? also he realized this “killing game” isn’t even real. see below

regarding komaeda figuring out the VR twist. putting this in bold because it’s my main point and this post is already unreasonably long. hi to the people skimming. as i said earlier, i think komaeda had plenty of reasons to begin to suspect this already, and i think the information he got in chapter 4 would have considerably strengthened his suspicions. finding out about the shsl despair stuff would give him a more accurate idea of the amount of time that must have passed, for starters; all they were really told previously was that they’ve already attended hope’s peak, which could imply that as little as two years have passed, but adding in the stuff about them causing a global apocalypse after graduating high school and it becomes apparent that they’re missing several years worth of memories. closer to four or five. komaeda got diagnosed with a terminal illness right before starting at hope’s peak — even with his luck, it’s outside the realm of plausibility that he’d be physically and mentally the same all these years later. but just in case he still wasn’t fully convinced, we also know that in chapter 5 komaeda entered the ruins on island 2. i don’t even remember exactly what’s in there (it’s been forever) but i feel very confident in saying that he would have been able to figure out he’s not in the real world at that point.

and now we’re Finally(!) ready to talk about chapter 5. 

like i said way WAY up at the top of the post, the way i remembered this case was that komaeda attempted to get everyone except the traitor killed but it backfired. this is the general consensus the characters arrive at during trial, and it makes sense that they would interpret the situation this way — they don’t know they’re in VR yet. 

komaeda knows the killing game isn’t happening in real life, though. on top of that, i think he ends up realizing — suspecting, at least — that the traitor is an AI: there’s a particular exchange between him and monomi where she says maybe the traitor is unable to confess to being the traitor, and his reaction makes it pretty clear that he hasn’t considered this before but it seems to get him thinking. 

if the killing game is happening in VR and the traitor is an AI, it shouldn’t be possible to get everybody killed and have the AI be the winner. dying in VR might not equal dying in real life (it turns out to, indeed, not equal dying in real life), and with no human participants remaining in the simulation there’d be no need for an AI moderator (or to even keep the simulation running at all). komaeda might have been thinking that by getting everyone besides the traitor “killed” he’d at least be ending the killing game and stopping the next stage of junko’s plan. (when he’s talking about wanting to eliminate despair from the island, does he mean he literally intends for every member of shsl despair to die, or that he intends to stop the mastermind’s plan and thus “eliminate despair” via ending the killing game?) but i actually think he was hoping for a different outcome.

in chapter 5 when the rest of the group panics after discovering the “bombs” komaeda set up, nanami urges the others to stay calm by pointing out that just trying to get them all killed isn’t komaeda’s style. rather, she says she thinks he intends it as a test. of course, the “bomb threat” isn’t actually a test, it’s just a diversion, but nanami’s right about how komaeda generally operates, and i think we can apply her logic here to komaeda’s entire chapter 5 plan. it’s not intended as a death trap, it’s intended as a test.

komaeda’s talked quite a bit about how much he hates despair and also seems to think human life is worthless if it’s not furthering the cause of hope in some way, so it is reasonable to conclude that he wanted to make sure every former shsl despair member died including himself… except that he knew it was VR so he’d had to have known it wouldn’t be that simple, and furthermore he’s aware his luck always finds a way of complicating things. his posthumous video message at the end of chapter 5 is particularly telling, i think, because even though he says his message is aimed at whoever survived his murder trial but he hopes it’s the traitor, the instructions he gives on what to do next wouldn’t be of use to the traitor nor would they have needed the explanation on why he chose to do what he did. the fact he left the survivors instructions on what to do next suggests quite strongly to me that this was his preferred outcome, and not to skip way ahead and talk about 2.5 but he sure doesn’t seem shocked or upset to find out it was all in VR and everyone is alive. sure seems like this played out exactly how he wanted it to, actually. 

(tiny side note — i think komaeda’s awareness that he wasn’t really dying, just dying in VR, might tie into why he doesn’t reappear after death when the simulation is glitching like everyone else does, why there’s no message when knocking on his door, and why 2.5 happens at all. it sure seems to me like instead of going into the same sort of coma/dream state as the rest of them, from which i guess they were later woken up without much trouble, komaeda went deep into the simulation to the point hinata had to go back in there and get him out. i’ll save the rest of that for when i’m reviewing dr3 though, which at the rate i’m going i think we can expect in uhhh 2025?)

i did anticipate i'd have a lot to say about 2-5, but uh... i have more to say than i thought i would. to just cut to the chase and focus on the most important thing i wanna talk about, i have a different read on komaeda's whole Getting Himself Murdered scheme than i remember having, and i... also haven't seen the fandom talk about this, though i haven't been paying attention for a long time. part of me thinks i'm fucking dumb for not realizing this sooner and part of me thinks i'm wrong and insane, but that's how i felt talking about the chapter 3 motive and in hindsight i'm actually pretty sure i'm right about that, so. here goes.

tl;dr: despite the survivors concluding at the end of the trial that komaeda's plan was to set up an unsolvable murder case and get them all killed, i don't think it's that simple. after all, komaeda seems to have figured out the VR twist as early as the end of chapter 4, so he's presumably aware that there's at least a chance that "dying" in the killing game might be survivable. rather, i think this was intended as yet another test, and the survivors passed.

will elaborate in a reblog. this might be a long post.

[the-lonelybarricade]

I totally stole this from one of those writing prompt blogs, but can you do Rhys and Feyre going to couples therapy together as a joke when they only just met?

Okay my love, I literally just finished writing this and haven't actually proofread it. It was meant to be silly and jokey but ended up being a bit more serious than I intended, but I'm a sucker for fake dating tropes so maybe I'll continue their story at some point. Anyway here's a modern Feyre and Rhys going to couples thereapy together (whilst not actually being a couple):

Feyre was absolutely determined to prove Nesta wrong. Usually her sister’s grating comments didn’t penetrate Feyre’s hardened demeanor at home, but something about their stint yesterday had thoroughly gotten under her skin. Nesta had a talent when it came to barbed words, so it was the casualness with which she’d said Feyre was boring and predictable that had kept the words ringing between Feyre’s ears. They lacked the usual bite and venom that was characteristic of Nesta, and somehow that made them impossibly worse.

Was Feyre a creature of habit? Sure. But she had always been content with her quiet, unassuming life. They’d grown up poor, with little luxury, and as a little girl Feyre had always believed all she’d need to be happy was paint supplies and enough time to get lost in a blank canvas. Feyre had that now, and she was happy. She spent almost every day in her studio, a paintbrush in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. And that was fine. She may not spend a lot of time with other people, but that was fine.

Routine is fine. Being focused on your career is fine. So why did the implication that her life is stagnant rile her up so much?

Feyre couldn’t articulate what, exactly, had bothered her so much, since she was perfectly happy with the current state of her life. Yet the next morning she’d woken up, vowing to take a day off and spend the whole day being entirely unpredictable.

She was going to pull a Jim Carrey in Yes Man. She was going to seize this damn day. And any voice in her mind that pleaded her to stick to her comfort zone was going to be diligently ignored.

When she set out to get her morning coffee, she ducked into the first cafe she came across without checking the reviews. And instead of ordering her usual chai latte, she asked the cashier to make her their favorite drink. She sat at a booth and sipped it experimentally. It was sweet and tasted of caramel; she decided she quite liked it. So far so good.

She sat wondering what brave venture she should do next, something that would be worthy of telling people about. Something so brash and crazy and unexpected Nesta would eat her stupid, truthful words.

“Mind if I take this seat?”

The voice was like smooth velvet. Feyre glanced up to meet a pair of eyes that were such a deep, peculiar shade of blue they almost looked violet. She was momentarily stunned speechless, which caused the impossibly handsome stranger to lift one of his perfectly groomed brows in question.

“Of course,” Feyre answered, her mouth feeling a bit dry. She quickly took a sip of her coffee to quell this strong reaction her body was having to this man.

She’d been expecting him to take the chair to sit elsewhere, but he slid into the chair at her table, directly across from her. Feyre spared a cursory glance around the cafe. Customers milled about, but there were plenty of empty seats strewn here and there. It was far from necessary to share a table with a stranger.

Her interest piqued, Feyre turned her attention back to this strange, alluring man.

“I’m Feyre,” she said, sounding much more confident than she felt. But today was about branching out of her comfort zone. Making the first move with an attractive man certainly qualified.

“Rhysand,” he answered with a charming grin, extending his hand into the space between them. Feyre accepted it with a mirrored smile, for a moment marvelling at the way his hand completely enveloped hers.

Feyre cleared her throat. “So tell me, Rhysand, what brings you to this table in particular?”

The way he wrinkled his nose was unfairly endearing. “Call me Rhys,” he said. “I only really use Rhysand in a business setting. And I chose this table in particular, because I saw a beautiful woman sitting here and was feeling especially forward.”

Feyre laughed in surprise. “Forward, indeed. Well, Rhys, I have spectacular news for you.”

“And what’s that, Feyre darling?” the suggestive tone to his voice sent shivers down her spine and instantly those warning bells in her mind were blaring. This man was too handsome and he was a complete stranger.

“I’ve decided to do something completely stupid and spontaneous today, and you’re officially invited to join me.”

Rhysand grinned, his eyes flickering with mischief at her proposal. She supposed that should be concerning, too, but she felt her pulse quicken. “And what stupid, spontaenous thing will we be doing, darling?”

Feyre leaned back, trying to regain composure by taking a too casual sip of her coffee. “I haven’t decided yet. I’m open to ideas.”

Across the cafe, a man stood up so quickly his chair tipped over with a loud thunk. Rhys and Feyre both whirled their heads at the commotion.

“This is why we need to go to therapy together!” the woman across from him screeched. “You can’t control your stupid temper!”

“I don’t have time for this shit,” he growled. “I’m not going to sit there for an hour so you can manipulate some dumb bitch into agreeing with you!”

“It’s not about sides,” she groaned. “I want to work through this with you!”

Feyre felt a tug of sympathy at the desperation in the woman’s voice. She could feel her pain and frustration second-hand, having been in similar shoes herself.

“Fuck this,” the man grumbled, storming for the door.

The woman followed after him. “Our appointment is in 10 minutes! Please, let’s just try it.”

The door swung shut behind them. Feyre watched the couple continue their walking argument down the city pavement, gesturing wildly with their hands.

Feyre sighed. “Man, that poor woman. It sounded like she really wanted to work things out.”

“That guy sounded like an absolute ass, maybe it’s for the best,” Rhys said. Then, his eyes lit up and he turned to Feyre with a slow, conspiring grin. “It does give me an idea, though.”

“What’s that?” Feyre felt a bit intimidated by the roguish expression on his face, even if it did make her feel breathless.

“Well, I do happen to know there’s a psychiatrist's office right above this cafe. If I had to guess, that’s where our friends were going to have their first session. And from the looks of it,” he nodded towards the couple, who were now striding in opposite directions through the city, faces flushed with anger, “they won’t be attending.”

“And your point is…?”

“Let’s go in their stead. Make a game of it. First person to break character loses.”

“And what does the winner get?”

“Well, if I win, then I get to take you to dinner.”

Feyre considered for a moment. Dinner with a handsome man certainly didn’t sound like losing to her. “If I win, then I get to use you as a model.”

“You’re a photographer?” His brows rose in interest and Feyre summoned all her will power not to blush. Since when was she bashful about her career?

“Painter.”

Rhysand grinned. “If you win, you can use my body anyway you wish, Feyre darling. Nude would be best.”

And that was how Feyre had ended up in Dr. Suriel’s office, Rhys by her side on the sofa. It was perhaps the most adventurous thing she’d ever agreed to.

“So, Mr and Mrs Mandray. Apologies, I didn’t get your names on the forms.”

“I’m Feyre, this is my husband Rhys,” Feyre answered, thinking it lucky they didn’t have to guess at the mysterious couple’s forenames.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Feyre and Rhys. What brings you to my office today?”

Rhys immediately slipped into his role of the concerned husband. He placed his arm around Feyre’s shoulders and tugged her close. Rhys opened his mouth, then shut it, glancing at Feyre hesitantly.

“My wife and I have been getting into a lot of… disagreement lately,” Rhys answered carefully, and already Feyre thought this was going much better than it would have if the actual Mr Mandray had turned up.

“My husband,” Feyre said flatly, channeling her inner Nesta to put venom into the word. “Is insisting on painting our house purple.”

“I see,” Dr. Suriel says, assessing the displeasure on Feyre’s face. “And I’m assuming you want to paint the house a different color.”

Feyre pressed her lips into a thin line. “See, that’s just the problem,” she said, crossing her arms. “That’s exactly the color I would want to paint our house.”

Dr. Suriel frowned. “So you do want the house to be painted purple, as does your husband. Am I understanding that correctly?”

“No,” Feyre sighed. “He wants to paint the house blue, but is insisting we paint it purple, because he knows it’s what I want. This bastard refuses to be anything but accommodating.”

“We’re going to try to refrain from name-calling in my office,” Dr Suriel said calmly. “So, Feyre, you are clearly unhappy that Rhys wants to paint the house purple. What color would you paint it?”

“Blue,” she answered. “I know it’s what he secretly wants to paint it.”

“She doesn’t see the hypocrisy in what she's saying!” Rhys complained. Then, he turned to Feyre, looking impossibly serious. “Darling, I know you want to paint the house purple, and I already told you I’m fine with it.”

Feyre groaned. “I don’t want to paint the house purple! I want to paint it blue.”

“You’re only saying that because you think I want to paint the house blue.”

“Do you?”

Rhys hesitated. “No.”

“Don’t lie in front of our therapist,” Feyre said with narrowed eyes. “We promised to tell the truth while we’re here.”

“Then you tell me the truth, Feyre. Do you genuinely want the house to be painted blue?”

Now it was Feyre’s turn to hesitate. She could see the corner of Rhysand’s mouth twitch as she did so. “No. I mean yes! I do!”

“It sounds like at the heart of this argument, you are both ultimately concerned in pleasing the other person, is that fair to say?”

Feyre and Rhys glanced at each other, then nodded in agreement.

“Do you think there’s a color you could both compromise on, so that you don’t feel as if your partner is the only one making a sacrifice in this decision?”

Feyre met Rhysand’s brilliant violet eyes. In truth, she’d blurted the color purple because she’d been thinking about the color of his eyes. She'd never seen eyes that color, and they were wonderfully vivid. Feyre was lost thinking of painting a world in a monocrhome of violet, like a city that lived within his gaze.

Feyre realized she’d been momentarily swept away, snapped out of it by the humor that washed behind those starry irises. She blinked back the haze and tried to think of an answer to the question.

“Mustard yellow?” she proposed.

Rhys pursed his lips in mock consideration. “Mustard yellow,” he agreed with an emphatic nod of approval.

Dr. Suriel blinked in surprise. “All right, well I’m pleased we could solve that issue. Is there anything else you’ve been arguing about?”

“Yeah, actually. My wife,” Rhys gave Feyre a pointed glance. Somehow, despite being strangers, hearing Rhys refer to her as his wife sent waves of pleasure jolting through her. She felt her stomach flip on itself. “Isn’t satisfied with our sex life.”

Feyre instantly flushed at such an accusation, however fabricated.

“Is this true, Feyre?” Dr. Suriel turned her eyes towards Feyre and she shifted uncomfortably at having to make up stories about her sex life with Rhys. Making Feyre imagine rolling in a bed with him was certainly his goal, and she’d lie to say it wasn’t affecting her. Rhysand looked absolutely delighted to have made her squirm. Fine. Two could play at his game.

“Y-yes, well,” Feyre stuttered, the burning in her cheeks condemning. “I keep telling Rhys that 16 orgasms in a session is excessive. He’s much too generous a lover and he never lets me give as good as I get.”

Feyre felt satisfied with the way Rhysand’s face went crimson.

Dr. Suriel’s brows rose. “This seems to be a common theme in your marriage. Rhysand, would you say that you’re often prioritising Feyre’s desires over your own?”

“I think Feyre sorely underestimates how much pleasure I take from satisfying her desires,” he answered, his eyes flicking to Feyre with enough of a sensual promise that her heartbeat turned staccato.

“Rhys, it sounds as though your generosity is part of the way you express your love, is that safe to say?” Rhys nodded. “And Feyre, it seems as if you have trouble accepting your husband's generosity, both in and outside the bedroom. Do you feel that’s a fair statement?”

“I-I suppose so.”

“Sometimes people have trouble accepting their loved one’s generosity when they feel like they aren’t giving something in exchange. It can be hard to accept that kind of love when we don’t feel like we deserve it. Do you feel like this could apply to your situation?”

Feyre blinked. This was meant to be a gag, something daring and experimental. She hadn’t expected to be psychoanalyzed by Dr. Suriel, or at least for her analysis to hit so close to home.

Rhysand shifted forward on the sofa. “Is this true, darling?” he asked, sounding concerned. He took Feyre’s hands in his own, brushing his thumb along her skin as he met her gaze. “I think you deserve the world.”

She would almost think he was being genuine if she hadn’t met him only an hour ago. Feyre marked the conviction on his face, those burning pools of earnesty in his eyes, and marveled at what an incredible actor he was.

Somehow she ended up blurting part of the truth. “My family life growing up was kind of tough and I’ve never really known what unconditional love was like. I think a part of me still believes it's something I have to earn.”

“That sounds like it must have been very hard, Feyre. But it sounds like Rhys loves you very much, and that this is an issue the two of you can overcome together. When you feel the instinct to reject his generosity, try to remember where that message is coming from. And Rhysand, try to keep in mind that this is something your wife is still working through, and be patient if she feels more comfortable giving you something in exchange. This is her way of expressing love, too. At the core of your issues is both of you thinking about the other person, try to remember this when a breakdown in communication occurs.”

Somehow they’d lost control of their therapy session and were receiving actual therapy, which wasn’t part of the plan at all. But somehow, despite not actually being married to Rhysand, what Dr. Suriel said was reassuring.

Feyre turned to Rhys and smiled. “I think I understand better, now. You’re free to give me as many orgasms as you want, honey.”

Rhys grinned fiendishly. “And I’ll let you reciprocate in whatever way you feel comfortable, darling.”

Dr. Suriel clasped her hands together in approval. “Excellent. I think so long as the two of you take measures to accurately communicate your needs, you’ll find these breakdowns will occur less frequently. And that’s it for our time today, but I am happy to have the two of you back any time.”

Feyre walked out of the session hand-in-hand with Rhys, feeling a bit dazed. It had certainly gotten more serious than she’d expected, but perhaps her judgement had been misplaced in thinking therapy could be anything other than serious, no matter how joking the complaints.

“Well, that was certainly stimulating,” Rhys quipped once they’d left the office.

“And it seems we’re at a draw, considering neither of us broke character.”

“You do play my wife convincingly well,” Rhys practically purred, “perhaps I’ll let you take up the real role, if you feel so inclined.”

Feyre laughed. “I’m expecting a few other offers to come through. Give me a few days to look over the applicants, then I’ll get back to you.”

“Okay, well how’s this. I’ll give you my number, you can wait until all those applicants come back to you, and once you’ve decided that I’m clearly the obvious choice, you can call me.”

Feyre smiled as she pulled out her phone and handed it to him to insert his number. “You do make a very convincing husband. Perhaps I can hire you for weddings and Thanksgiving dinners?”

“Real husband, fake husband, a partner to do spontaneous, outrageous things with. You call me, and I’ll be whatever you want me to be, Feyre.”

It was perhaps the strangest and most generous offer she’d ever been given. When they parted ways, Feyre thought that she’d certainly filled her quota for an interesting story to tell. And maybe, most likely, she’d be calling that number very soon.

[vendettaparker]

Tom Holland x actress reader

Where are there in the same movie together and the cast goes out and Tom and reader really likes eachother maybe smut and after it’s really awkward between them fluff with a sprinkle of angst

Not In Love [T.H]

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: sexual themes, cursing, slight angst, probably some typos

a/n: hi hi! i’m so sorry but i don’t write smut, so i hope it’s ok that i just implied it! i will probably start writing smut in the future but for right now i find it a bit awkward for myself to write. also, sorry that this took so long to get out, i planned for this to only be like 800-1k words, and obvioulsy, it just kept going. hope this works well for you!

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     (Y/N) (L/N) does not fuck around with co-stars. Ever since you started acting at the young age of eight, you were always told by your mom, manager, and others in the industry to avoid casual, co-star related hook ups. As your career progressed, even through puberty, you remained faithful to your vow. No mingling with co-workers in a non professional manner. Sure, some of your previous co-stars and you remained good friends, even after filming. But the main internal lesson always stayed the same: don’t fuck your co-stars. 

     In your long and glorious career, the only hindrance to your resolve was Tom fucking Holland. His stupid British charm and playful wiles always had your knees buckling and the butterflies in your stomach going haywire. And when he called you darling? In that stupid, yet honey-like accent? You were done for. 

     Tom had the absolute pleasure of working with you in The Devil All The Time. He watched all of your movies and practically grew up watching you on Disney Channel. To say he was simply starstruck would’ve been an understatement, he was enamoured. Practically in love. And when he got to know how kind and sweet you were in real life—not just on screen— he just had to turn on his British charm, just to watch you squirm. 

     Every little comment he made caused your skin to tingle. Your stance on co-star relationships had never been so harshly challenged. He would constantly call you whatever cute pet name he could think of at the time, and unluckily for you, they always seemed to just roll right off his tongue. He even went out of his way to grab you a coffee if he went out to get one, or he’d ask his brother to make sure to bring back your signature order: caramel macchiato with almond milk, two pumps of vanilla, and extra caramel drizzle. How he knew that was your go to order was a mystery to you. 

     It’s not like you didn’t retaliate with your own antics though. Sometimes during his scenes you send him a wink and a smile, just to watch him lose focus. Or maybe you’d tease him about the way he says croissant, but then also say it in the over pronounced way he does, just to bug him. On days when the sexual tension between you two was especially palpable, you’d kiss his cheeks after his scenes and say “good job, babe” or something else to rile him up. So no, you weren’t innocent in this matter at all. 

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     This build up of tension was bound to boil over at some point. But why the fuck did it have to be during the fucking full cast and director dinner?

     You all arrived at the fancy restaurant, all 40+ of you. You sat next to Eliza and secretly hoped that Sebastian, Harry, or even Robert would take the seat next to you, anyone but Tom. He had been especially touchy that day, and you knew if he continued his ministrations, especially under the cover of a table, your resolve would surely fade away. 

     Unfortunately for you, Tom practically bolted to the seat next to you. You scooted a bit closer to Eliza, who nudged your shoulder playfully. 

     “You should just give in.” She stated, smirking the whole time. “Look at him, poor thing just wants some love and attention.” she giggled, nodding her head to where Tom was whispering with Harry on the other side of him. 

     “Stop it, you’re insufferable.” You rolled your eyes, but still smiled at the joking banter. 

     “(Y/N), hon, he’s one of the hottest celebrities in Hollywood right now, and he wants you.” Eliza pinched your makeup covered cheek, “you’re telling me you don’t wanna just jump in his pants? Do you not find him hot or something?” 

     You smacked her hand away, “No, I do find him attractive, I just d—”

     “Find who attractive, love?” Tom interrupted, smirking at the comment he heard. No, he didn’t know for sure you were talking about him, but one can hope. 

     “Nobody,” you dismissed, “I was just telling Eliza here that I think her dog is cute, right Eliza?” 

     “Sure.” She mumbled, rolling her eyes dramatically, then winking directly at Tom, just out of your view. 

     “Ah, I see.” He chuckled, “Yes, you find her dog attractive then?” 

     “No!” You defended, red faced from being backed into a hole, “I didn’t even use that word; you’re just hearing things.” 

     “Don’t worry, love. I find you absolutely, without a doubt, drop dead gorgeous.” Tom winked, before returning back to his conversation with Harry. 

     Eliza pinched your side, causing you to yelp. “See, I told you!” she whisper-yelled, a knowing smirk dawning her face. 

     “You didn’t tell me shit.” 

     “Ugh, whatever, you’re hopeless.” She sighed, just as the waiter was coming around to take your orders. 

     The majority of the evening went by just as simply and smoothly as possible, it was when dessert arrived that Tom stirred up trouble once again. His damned British charm made him the perfect devil in disguise.  

     “Darling, you have some cake right—” he licked his thumb before drawing it over your bottom lip, slowly, “here.” 

     He smirked at your surprised gaze and wiped the chocolate cake from your rose-painted lip. Never breaking his gaze, he drew his thumb back to his mouth and sucked on the digit, gently humming at the sweet taste of chocolate and strawberry lip gloss that flooded onto his tongue. This bitch. 

     You cleared your throat and ceased your—more than obvious— gawking. He wasn’t going to win this time. You sat quietly, smirking as he watched your every move, simply waiting for retaliation. And it came soon enough, when you knocked your water off the table into his lap, on accident, of course. 

     He jolted up the second the cold water hit his slacks, cursing, yet still keeping that charming smirk on his lips. You immediately started the steady stream of apologies, a faux look of remorse etched on your face. The rest of the cast simply looked on, none the wiser. 

     “Oh Tom! Gosh, I am so sorry.” You stood up as well, taking the napkin from your lap and dabbing his torso where the water splashed up. “I’m just so clumsy, forgive me.” You looked up at him with false serenity in your eyes, but a devilish grin. 

     “No worries, love.” He mused, “I’m just going to go dry off in the washroom. Could use some help though; it’s the least you could do.” The rest of the cast went back to their desserts and conversation, so they failed to notice the hidden glint in Tom’s eyes or the lustful insinuation behind his request. 

     “Sure.” You smiled up at him, determined not to lose this game of cat and mouse. You followed him to the large family restroom in a dimly lit corridor. He opened the door and gestured for you to go in first. What a gentleman, hm?

     He closed the door behind him and locked it before undoing the buttons on his dress shirt and removing it. His toned torso also damp with freezing droplets of ice water. 

     You sucked in a shaky breath, taking in his less than professional, disheveled look. “You gonna come help me, princess?” He reached for paper towels and grabbed a handful, dabbing the wet spot on his lap, right over his crotch. 

     “I—um, sorry,” you snapped out of it. Following his movements, doing the same but to his wet torso. 

     “You’re okay, love.” He looked at you, the close proximity of your bodies creating the most delicious heat in the bathroom. Tom leaned in slightly, just until your noses were brushing against one another. “Though, I’ll admit, the fact that you're not giving me an apology kiss right now, makes this a little less than okay.”

     You didn’t even process your actions completely, the second those words left his mouth yours lips were on his. You held his face in your hands, rough passion seeping through your entire body, and he was just the same. He kissed you fervently, holding your waist with one arm and the back of your head with his opposite hand, tangling his fingers into your hair. The tension and desire that had been building up for almost as long as you’ve known him finally boiling over. 

     Tom gingerly inched his hand up the side of your leg, under your dress. 

     “Wait, wait,” you pulled away, breathlessly, “we need to get back, they’re probably wondering where we are.” 

     Tom was about to concede when a knock rang through the room. 

     “Hey guys,” It was Eliza, “Seb paid for all of us, so we’re gonna head out. Take your time! Oh, and use protection!” You could practically hear the smirk on her face.  

     Tom stopped your little scowl by returning his attention to kissing you, “How lucky are we?” he mused, repositioning his hands, starting to fumble with the zipper of your dress. 

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     The next Monday at work was hell. You spent the whole weekend internalizing your little rendezvous in the bathroom. Tom texted you nearly fourteen times over the two day break period where you didn’t see each other, and you ignored every single one of them. The first ones were simple ‘hey’s’, ‘hi’s’, and ‘good morning’s’, but they soon progressed to show Tom’s concern over you not responding. The last message being, 

Tom: I hope you know, I don’t regret it, but I’m sorry if you do.

     You didn’t mean to ghost him, but your feelings were so confusing. You liked him and the things he did to you. But you had a code. And maybe the ‘don’t date your co-worker’ was a bit old school and shitty, but you’d been able to stick to it for this long and your work has never been better. Then again, all your previous boyfriends have been assholes; constantly upset over how busy your schedule was. Maybe a fellow actor would be more understanding? 

     The second you arrived to set Harry was on your ass. 

     “(Y/N), hey!” He called to you from the snack table where he was talking with Tom. You gave him a small smile and wave, but proceeded to your makeup chair. He motioned for you to join them, but you waved your hand in dismissal and gave him an apologetic look. Whether or not you regretted your night with Tom, you were absolutely not ready to confront it just yet. However, you didn’t miss the disappointed look on Tom’s face or the way Harry gave his brother a reassuring shoulder squeeze. 

     Harry even came up to you asking how your weekend was and if you were busy or not, no doubt trying to gauge your mood for Tom. You were friends with Harry so you didn’t mind talking to him, but when it was becoming apparent that you weren't giving much away as far as how you were feeling, Harry resorted to more ‘less than subtle’ questions. 

     “So… are you seeing anyone, currently?” He asked, playing with his fingers, the question struck you as extremely off-putting, especially since Harry said it with little to no confidence, like he really didn’t want to be asking that. 

     “Why? Are you trying to ask me out?” You teased. Watching him squirm was almost as fun as when it was Tom. 

     “No! No, I mean— I’m not opposed, you’re very pretty—no wait, I don’t mean it like that, I just—uh, I think you look nice, but not too nice—I’m gonna go.” Harry painfully stuttered out. Cursing under his breath as he walked away, back to where Tom was standing, watching on. These idiots were the most obvious divs in the whole world. 

     After you finished with your stylist, you were ready to start running lines for your scene. You have the majority of your scenes with Tom, so as per usual, you were acting opposite him. As the director was explaining how he wanted the scene to go, Tom kept glancing over at you, raising his eyebrows a bit, obviously wanting to clear the air. 

     The scene went by fine, but it was clear to many of the people around you that you were not on the top of your game today. It even got to the point where the director needed to ask if you needed a break. You said you didn’t and persisted. The scene was finally done to perfection, but it took almost double the amount of time it usually would for you. 

     Tom noticed you struggling the most and couldn’t help but feel guilty. He was quick to give you words of encouragement between takes, but you only responded with a quick ‘thanks’ and moved on. 

     When lunch time came around, the caterers were all set up and prepared on a different part of the lot. You quickly made your way over, running into Eliza on the way. 

     “Oh, hey (Y/N)!” she beamed at you. “Did you finish your scene?”

     “Yeah, are you going to set right now?” 

     “Mhm, I’m shooting the scene at the church with Robert.” 

     “Well, good luck.” You smiled at her, about to move along when she grabbed your wrist. 

     “Wait, did something happen between you and Tom? He’s at the lunch table moping, even Seb is trying to cheer him up.” 

     “Um well no, I mean, maybe? I don’t know, I guess I’ve been avoiding him a bit.” You shrug, now not really wanting to go to lunch, but you know you have to. If you don’t show up then it’d be all too clear to Tom that you were definitely avoiding him. 

     “Oh, well, maybe just talk to him?” Eliza comfortably put a hand on your shoulder before walking away to set. 

     You continued to the lunch set up, seeing club sandwiches, soups, and cupcakes set up. You grabbed what you wanted and went to sit by Tom and everyone else. Yeah, you may have been avoiding him, but you didn’t want to make it that painstakingly obvious. 

     As soon as you sat down, Tom put his arm around you like he always did when you had lunch together. Only this time you stiffened up, not because you hated it, but because the action felt so different after what you both had done, it felt like it meant more. Tom noticed, of course, and removed his arm, frowning. 

     “Can I talk to you, (Y/N/N)?” he whispered to you, the rest of the table in their own little world, too caught up in their interactions to notice yours. 

     “Um, sure,” you mumbled in response, “but maybe when I have free time later? I’m just really hungry right now.” you gave him a small smile, trying to keep up the amicability. 

     He nodded and continued his conversation with Seb, who looked completely uninterested, but still continued responding since he could tell Tom was feeling shitty about something. 

     Later that evening, the entire cast had a one hour break since the next scene they wanted to shoot needed to be done at night and it wasn’t dark yet. That’s when Tom took you to his trailer to talk. 

     “Look, (Y/N), I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but I can’t help but feel like you’re avoiding me.” He stated, once the door was shut and you were already seated on his couch. 

     “I’m not.” 

     “But you are. I can tell. You didn’t talk to me at all today, even when I made a joke that I knew you’d have the perfect come back to.” He sat next to you, but kept more of a distance than usual.

      “I don’t have to talk to you, Tom. You can’t rely on me to keep you entertained.” You rolled your eyes, annoyed that you’d been caught. 

      “That’s not what I’m saying, (Y/N), and you know it.” Tom pointed a finger at you, equally annoyed now. 

     “Fine, so what if I was avoiding you? You’re a grown man, you can handle rejection can’t you?” You spat. The argument was quickly becoming more heated. If there was one thing you hated the most in the world, it was being called out, especially if you knew you were in the wrong. 

     “What the fuck is your problem today?” Tom asked, exasperated at how defensive you got so quickly. 

     “Tom, I’m sorry, but I don’t do this,” you motioned between the two of you, “I don’t do the cliche Hollywood, sleeps around, one night stand scenario, so back off.” 

     “So you regret it.” Tom looked down, trying to keep his emotions at bay. He really did like you, but maybe it was naive of him to assume that sleeping together would open the door to something more. 

     “No, I just—it shouldn’t have happened. I liked it, but I’m not that type of girl. I’m a relationship type of person. I never wanted to be another girl for you to mark down on your list of possible hook ups.” You sighed. Tom wasn’t necessarily notorious for random hookups, but he was a famous actor who just so happened to also be single. It was hard to not go there with your thoughts, so in your mind, you had him pegged. 

     “I’m a relationship person too, though. I wanted all of this. All of you.” Tom inched closer, gingerly taking your hands in his. “I may have gone about it wrong, I should’ve asked you out first or something.” 

     “Tom, stop.” 

     “No, (Y/N), because you’ve got it all wrong. I didn’t flirt with you or spend time with you just to get in your pants.” Tom pulled you closer. “I surrounded myself with you because I wanted you. And I think you want me too.”

     You looked in his eyes, searching for any sign of insincerity, small as it might be, but Tom was being the most sincere he could possibly be. Tom cautiously leaned closer, just wanting one more kiss, even if it was the last. However, you were the one that took the final plunge and pulled him in, kissing him. You both moved together so fluidly, like you were made for each other. 

     When you did pull apart, Tom was the one to break the silence, “So does that mean you like me or…” 

     “I kissed you, didn’t I?” 

[ilguna]

Aubade - Prologue (f.o)

summary: you'll never truly be free from the Capitol.

warnings; swearing, mention of vomit, death mention.

wc; 3.3k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

Trouble. That’s what you thought of Katniss and Peeta when they started to near the end of their Hunger Games. You had already been sent home by that point, as your boy tribute was killed during the bloodbath, and the girl would later be killed during the tracker jacker attack.

They weren’t trouble for you, exactly. You and Finnick had already packed up and gone home. You were far over worrying about your tributes not making it to the finale. Looking back at it now, hindsight being clearer than ever, they never stood a chance from the very beginning.

No, they were trouble for the Gamemakers, the Capitol. You remember sitting in the train with your tributes, watching the reaping recaps, when Katniss volunteered, and your immediate thought was ‘winner’. She would win the hearts of the Capitol with that one move of volunteering over her little sister. She would gain the attention she needed for sponsors.

In recent years, you’ve gotten better at picking out the tributes you think will win. Whether it be from the boarding school, or from other districts, there’s an instinct on it now. And all it took was Katniss earning an eleven on her training score, for it to confirm your thoughts. Any effort put into your tributes past that point would be useless.

It’s the hardest part about being a mentor, knowing when your tributes aren’t going to win that year. You can’t give up on them, you know that in order to change the tide, you’re going to work twice as hard. Even if you do, there’s no guarantee that it won’t just be wasted time. The last time you went all-out for a tribute like that, was for Nori.

Nori’s a recent victor from District Four. Oftentimes mentors say that they’re holding on by a thread with their tributes, but they don’t know what it’s actually like. There’s a certain panic that comes with the final thread, you’ve never seen any other mentor as desperate as you had been that year, pulling strings that you never considered before.

She was seventeen, a volunteer, from the boarding school. Three factors that gave her a boost right from the start. She scored a ten, but chose to ride solo, away from her district partner too. It was fine, because Annie had won the same way by being alone--partially. 

The problem was that she was hunted.

The boy--Luca--her district partner, had told the other careers exactly what she was capable of. That he could take her down in a fight if only they could get him close enough. Honestly, in that moment, you’d never been more pissed to have trained a tribute in your life. How could he turn on another person in his district like that? Hunger Games or not, she was supposed to be family.

It started off fine, as it usually does inside of the arena. They thought they’d been following her for days, it was the opposite. Then the Gamemakers got curious if Luca had been lying or not about Nori, so that’s when they started to use the elements to push them together. It was a several day process, they were on opposite sides of the arena. 

As soon as the careers had gotten a whiff of her trail, it went downhill from there. Narrowly missing her, until they did actually end up finding her. By then they had been cut down to four careers, since one of them died trying to kill a random tribute. The four of them had worked together to try and kill Nori, but she was almost like sand through their fingers. Almost.

She managed to kill another career, severely injure another. Her district partner was hell bent on trying to kill her. She was already hurt herself, and with no time to stop and attend to her wound, it was only getting worse. You’ve never seen two tributes from the same district go at each other like this except for in the finales.

Trying to sponsor Luca long enough to slow him down, getting any sort of quick healing cream ready to be sent at the same time. Convincing your two wonderful career friends--Gloss and Enobaria--to also sponsor their tributes immediately after Luca to buy more time. 

You spent day and night inside of that sponsor room to make sure she came out of it alive. The last time you had spread yourself so thin was before Annie had won her games, when you’d been working alone. It was exhausting, but it was the adrenaline that kept you going. Watching Nori inside of the arena made you realize that she was a fighter, and as long as you and Finnick were going to stick by her, she wouldn’t stop for anything.

In the end, it hadn’t been Luca that killed Nori. It was Nori that killed Luca, and just like that, she had won the seventy-second Hunger Games. If you and Finnick weren’t the type of people you are, Nori would have died in that arena. Some mentors have given in to the exhaustion, letting their tributes fight for themselves. You and Finnick made a promise a long time ago that you would change the games.

In a way, what you did for Nori was what Haymitch had done for Katniss and Peeta. You’re not sure what happened to flip the drunk to sober switch in him, but they’re lucky they figured out how to do it. From falling off the stage shitfaced to having two victors that played all their cards correctly?

They have the Capitol wrapped around their fingers right now, playing the star-crossed lovers dynamic. It started at the end of the interviews, which you also figured where it would end, as the arena isn’t a romantic place by any means. You were almost right, they couldn’t have been farther from meeting eye to eye.

However, the Gamemakers know how to draw people together without threatening their lives but raising the stakes at the same time. This is the part where they went wrong, because had they just kept their mouths shut, they wouldn’t have stirred an already-boiling pot.

They announced the same golden rule that had saved both you and Finnick; two victors from the same district could go home together. An event that isn’t supposed to happen often, yet it’d been less than ten years and they were going to let another two teenagers slip through. 

Apprehension, as the Capitol has a tendency to be unpredictable even to its loyalest followers. It wouldn’t have been the first time that the Capitol let two lovers live, but it was tens of years before. You thought that they’d want something more original, maybe not after all. 

Katniss and Peeta made it to the very end, which is exactly what you had expected after everything that happened. The determination of outlasting the other final tributes always takes over. That’s what happened with you and Finnick, you knew that home was right around the corner, and you must have wanted it more than the other two. It’s not an everyday occurrence that a fourteen and fifteen year-old outsmart a sixteen and seventeen year-old

It wasn’t until the Twelve tributes had been alone in the field, with a delayed victory announcement, did you realize that not everything was as it seemed. The Gamemakers revealed that it was all a trick, and the former rule was revoked. The Capitol obviously wanted a gory betrayal finale, but in classic teenager fashion, Katniss and Peeta went to eat nightlock berries.

And because having two victors is better than having none, Katniss and Peeta were introduced as the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games victors. District Twelve had their first win since Haymitch Abernathy, twenty-four long years. 

Of course, with their win, came the trouble. You started off by turning a blind eye to it, believing that it would stay within its confines in the Capitol. The Gamemakers started it, so they would be able to extinguish it before it spread like wildfire through the districts. To everyone’s surprise, they weren’t being quick enough on their toes.

Trouble soon became a genuine concern, as you found yourself and Finnick in the confines of Mayor Burrula’s office, begging for any sort of information he could spare to give. The Capitol was beginning to promote their victory tour, all while the teenagers at the boarding school were admitting that their parents were getting antsy. Not anxiousness, excitement that they’d be able to see the rebels that were clever enough to trap the Capitol.

Rebels, that’s the exact word they were using. You weren’t afraid of what might happen after the victory tour, it’s the position you’d be put in. Coriolanus had just released Finnick from his clutches, much to the Capitol’s disagreement. It was under the pretense that the two of you would work within a small box to please the citizens enough for them to not want Finnick as much. 

You have your siblings to look after, a larger detail. There’s no safe place in District Four to hide them, so any move you make that isn’t discouraging could put them in danger. The moment you work against the current, the district is going to put your family on a list.

A rebellion, that’s what you were fearing if the victory tour didn’t go well. 

Unfortunately, Katniss and Peeta had screwed up in District Eleven straight off the bat, meaning District Four got the eyeful they were looking for. By the time the victors had made it to you, it was pure chaos. Your home district has never been subtle about excitement, sometimes it’s hard to believe that you’re careers. If you’re so favored by the Capitol, why work against them?

With their speech came chanting, crowds pressing towards the stage. Violent peacekeepers were met with fearless faces. You remember every detail, what you were thinking every second, your heart beating in your chest. How many people would they kill from District Four? How harshly would Snow react to disobedience?

No one died during the speeches, that’s the good news. It’s always a hit or miss with the dinners, and that time you weren’t allowed to attend. The one thing you’d wanted the most out of their visit was a small time with Haymitch to talk, which you managed to get. In the darkest corner of District Four’s Justice Building, you three huddled together.

All he could say was, “I know, I know.” Which is all you were looking for. As long as he understood the amount of distress he was causing. What would happen in the coming months? What would it mean for the Hunger Games? New rules? A punishment? More tributes?

Then Peeta proposed to Katniss, and since then, the television has been plagued by their wedding plans. You wonder if it’s a pacifier for the Capitol, or supposed to be a distraction for the districts. Either way, it’s all that’s being spoken about, which means that someone is desperate to move on to another topic.

Even now, on the television, Caesar is talking about Katniss’ wedding dress. Apparently the Capitol has been voting on favorites to narrow down all the dresses that Cinna--Katniss’ stylist--had designed for the event. Originally two dozen dresses, only six survive now.

Watching this happen makes you appreciate the fact that you had kept your wedding a secret from the Capitol. Snow found out somehow, and you still don’t know through who exactly, but that was the extent of it. No Capitol wedding gifts, no pictures, journalists, or reporters. Snow sent a bottle of champagne and that was the end of it.

Well, except for the fact that eventually you had to tell the Capitol that it happened, which was a little nuts, but that was it.

You can’t imagine what they would have done with you and Finnick, how many hoops would have had to be jumped through. You two were favorites--Finnick more than you--so there’s no doubt that they would have tried to make it lavishly expensive. They would have tried to make it about them, what they wanted to see.

It was just one day in private. One day you could have to yourself without any interference.

You think that Katniss and Peeta have cursed themselves by doing this. They’re just going to be stuck in an endless loop of trying to please the Capitol and the districts without stirring anything else. What proves this is the loud cheering from the television, as Caesar shows the final wedding dress to wrap up the special.

“Is it over yet?” Finnick calls from the top of the stairs, he’s just as sick of it as you are.

“Almost.” you answer.

The wooden stairs creak as he comes down, you can hear his skin hit the wood, and can tell which step he’s on. With a loud thump, he skips the bottom one like he normally does, coming around the couch to join you. The rest of your family is still scattered around the house, trying to finish what they’d been doing before you told them that there would be an important announcement tonight.

The only other people down here who realize the severity is Mags and Anchor. A ring of victors have taken over your couch and armchairs, anxious to know what will be happening this year. It was only last week when Mags was warning you that the reading of the card for the Quarter Quell was coming soon. A day later peacekeepers were telling people it would be tonight.

Luther and Scotch will be with each other tonight, their bond has grown over the years, which means that checking up on them has been scarce. Annie is surrounded by family in her house, even though she said she wouldn’t mind coming over. You only had her for a few hours during lunchtime before sending her off. If this quell’s twist is bad, she needs to be with her family.

As for Nori, she’s still pretty fresh out of the arena as far as you’re concerned. She has family, and you’ve decided that she needs to be around them. In a few years, when she’s older and more stable, you’ll consider letting her in. For now, you have no problem surrounding yourself with the company that you’re used to. Mags and Anchor are more than just friends at this point, they’re family. 

“Let’s get Katniss Everdeen to her wedding in style!” Caesar shouts, the roaring gets louder behind him. There’s a grin on his face, the camera switches angles to a wider shot, “Stay tuned, don’t go just yet! There’s another exciting event to come! That’s right, this year will be the seventy-fifth anniversary of the Hunger Games, and that means it’s time for our third Quarter Quell!”

You lean backwards into the couch, “It’s time!”

Alyssum shouts that she’s coming, and you assume the other two won’t be far behind. You turn back to the television, your hand finding Finnick’s, fingers intertwining. Just as the anthem begins to play, Alyssum comes to take a seat on your right, the sound of socks sweeping against the floor assures you that Reed and Mox had heard you. With them sitting on the couch, the springs only sink lower.

Caesar moves out of the way as Coriolanus comes on stage, followed by a boy dressed in a white suit. The boy is carrying a small wooden box, eyes occasionally casting upwards for some sort of guidance from Snow when he stops walking. Once the anthem ends, Snow begins the wretched speech about the Dark Days, a reminder of why the Hunger Games were created in the first place.

Alyssum slips her arms around yours, cuddling into your side, head resting on your shoulder. 

When the laws had been laid out for the Games, they decided that every twenty-five years the anniversary would be celebrated by a Quarter Quell. It would be a special version of the games, with new terrifying tricks mixed in to ensure that the memory of those killed by the district’s rebellion would be fresh.

Coriolanus’ eyes meet a camera when he says the word ‘rebellion’. You squeeze Finnick’s hand, because that look alone practically confirms what you had been thinking all along. District Four was not the only one that had gotten rowdy during the victory tour. You don’t know if that makes you feel better or worse.

He doesn’t pause, “On the twenty-fifth anniversary, as a  reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it.”

You can’t help but look at Mags, wondering if she had to participate in the voting. You don’t want to imagine how it would’ve felt to mentor those kids, or how guilty people must’ve been when the children died and didn’t make it home. Honestly, what had gone through their heads when they were choosing one. Did they all consecutively choose? Was it a battle?

“On the fiftieth anniversary, as a reminder that two rebels died for each Capitol citizen, every district was required to send twice as many tributes.” Snow says.

Haymitch Abernathy, he used to be the only victor from Twelve, until he brought Peeta and Katniss home. What a nightmare that arena must’ve been, forty-eight tributes? That’s twice as many careers, at least eight to twelve. The odds had not been in his favor, and yet he won anyway.

Reed was alive for that one, probably too young to remember. 

“And now we honor our third Quarter Quell,” Snow says, your hand begins to squeeze Finnick’s tightly, anxiety flowering in your stomach. The boy in white steps forward now, opening the lid of the box as he holds it out for Snow to see. There’s rows of upright yellow envelopes, centuries of cruel ideas in that small box. Coriolanus plucks an envelope marked with a clear 75. 

He runs his finger beneath the flap and pulls out a small square of paper. Without stopping to read it to himself first, he announces, “On the seventy-fifth anniversary as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors.”

Stunned silence fills your living room as you jump to your feet, staring at the television. Finnick is still hanging onto your hand, fingers barely holding on. 

The crowd in the Capitol doesn’t even know what to think. They’re not cheering, they’re looking around like they’re not sure they heard this right. Across the street, there’s screaming.

It’s Annie.

Sick, that’s how you’re beginning to feel when the Capitol’s excitement starts to come through. Cheering, clapping, whistling. Your mouth begins to water, stomach churning when you finally begin to realize what this means for you.

Mox is stifling a sob, Alyssum’s hand is reaching for you.

You slap a hand over your mouth, tearing your fingers from Finnick’s as you rush to the bathroom. 

Mags is too old to survive in an arena, she wouldn’t make it without a bodyguard to support her. She can’t even speak, muchless defend herself.

Your stomach lurches.

Annie can’t handle the thought of going back to the Capitol, no breakthroughs in sight. She would die in the first couple of days, no question.

Bile rising in your throat.

And Nori is far too young, still fresh out of the arena. To allow her to go back inside so soon is straight cruel. You fought so hard to keep her--

The doorknob leaves a hole in the wall from how hard you slam it open.

You’re going back inside the arena.

--

AUBADE IS PART 3 OF A TRIOLOGY //MASTERLIST//

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