#and then like they get to the third movie and its like. i respect none of u freaks (directors/writers who insist on trying hard)

[fetabathwater]

finished alien series, onto predator. realised this

is predator 1987. fuck yeah carl weathers and arnie.

[ruershrimo]

take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 8: late

ao3 link for additional author’s notes | playlist | prev | m.list

chapter synopsis:

' “Kugisaki Nobara. Be honoured, boys,” she says, stance confident, “I’m your group’s girl.”

She’s so cool. '

---

You meet the girl of steel, though you've yet to get closer to her. Luckily, you have friends around the corner like Yuuji— and Megumi, too, but it's a little different with him.

word count: ~7k; tws: none for now :)!!

short a/n: hi i’m sorry i was away for so long!! life got a little busy and this chapter took a while to write. I will preface it by saying that this one is quite boring, though, but the chapters to look forward to a bit more are the two next ones!! lots will happen there :). thank you for your patience and i’m so sorry again!

25-6-2018 

By the time you’re back in Jujutsu High’s campus, night time has already shed its shadow against the world, black over Tokyo's fulgid skyscrapers like a veil, the sky devoid of any stars. Tokyo is a metropolis of glittery, coruscant lights that litter the land, with parks and crepe shops and cafes galore. And oh, how you love it every time you come back, from its 90s movie mood to its futuristic innovations. 

Dr Ieiri really had planned everything, as if she’d always expected you to be here: she’d got you a room near her office, even helped to clean some of it up, and promised you that you’d still be merely a room away from the one other female student currently in the school. Once the last first year— a girl— arrived, she’d be staying right next to you. 

“So? How long do you think you’ll be staying?” Dr Ieiri asks, “I know you’re planning on just giving someone something, but you’re going to be here for much longer, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Alright, but I’ll give you a heads up first. Staying here and operating as an actual sorcerer here, or a doctor for sorcerers like me or your father— it’s a far cry from the last time you were there. I won’t force you to help me when I need it, but you’re still going to be demanded of at almost all times, and I know you’d be the type of person to try to save people as much as you can. You have to be ready for that— the strain and all.” 

So she knew what you wanted better than you did. “I am.” You’ll ask that of your father later, to tell Sugisawa Third that you’re transferring to a religious school in Tokyo. They knew too little of you to think of whether you were religious or not anyway. 

“I’ll help you so you can still take things easy, okay?” 

“...okay. Thank you, doctor.” 

26-6-2018 

Dr Ieiri smokes less than you thought. Really, the night that you first met her was the first time she’d smoked again in five years, according to her. She attributed it to nostalgia and reminiscing on old memories before asking you to just go to bed— it was almost two in the morning. But you thought it made sense that the ones who were made to heal were the ones who mourned what was unhealed the most; you weren’t the only one stuck playing long-gone memories like a panoramic film on loop, a permanent backdrop in your mind. 

“You need to get a good night’s rest,” she’d said, but now you’re walking down the desolate hallways again. It’s fine— if there’s one thing about actually going against your parents for the first time instead of solely refuting them verbally in heated, mangled arguments, it’s that it’s insanely liberating. Before this, you’d have never even considered it an option, yet now it suddenly exists— that autonomy; suddenly, there isn’t a need to follow whatever order you’ve been given. And yes, you do respect Dr Ieiri and probably everyone else in your life, but you can choose not to abide by what they tell you just because you don’t want to— you decide it. No justifications, no reasons or polemics. Just pure responsibility and autonomy of yourself. You can’t fathom now, why you’d been scared of it before, or whether you’d even realised you were. It still feels unfamiliar, like a thrill, like adrenaline from treading on a tightrope above pits of deep, all-encompassing water, but in a week or so you’re going to have become used to it. 

From your room, if you walked all the way to the end of the hallway, you’d see the first year boys’ dorms. You don’t take the letter with you— that’s a bridge to either burn or cross another time, when you’re not right about to sleep. 

Careful to make as little sound as possible, you knock the door, hoping he’s awake. 

You hear his groggy steps as he seems to trudge himself along, before the door opens with a creaky whine. “—it’s one in the morning,” he frowns, “What do you want—” 

“Hi, Megumi.” 

He closes the door. You wait outside for a moment. 

Megumi opens the door again. 

“...I should’ve told you I was here, actually,” you say. 

“It’s one in the morning,” he goes, “Why aren’t…” he blinks his eyes awake a little, groaning as he rubs his temples, “Why aren’t you asleep? —no, why are you even here, really…” 

You’re going to regret your replies come morning, probably; they’ll sound stupid by then. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, but that doesn’t really bother you. “I’m sorry. It’s just, um, I actually wanted to give you something, I mean— I’ll give it to you tomorrow or one of these days, but I was just bored. I just got here, and I’m just going to help Dr Ieiri with some things, um. …sorry, did I wake you? You should rest, actually, it helps your injuries heal faster; sorry for waking you—” 

“—no, not… not really. Don’t worry about that,” he states, “But you should still go to sleep anyway. It’s late.” 

“I can’t sleep.” 

He opens the door and heads inside. An invitation for you to enter, it seems, because he turns and waits for you, the door ajar as you hesitate in front of it. 

You come in. 

His dorm room seems quite similar to the one in his old home, actually, the only difference being how his room now is only just a little larger than the one you were in at fourteen. (You wonder what happened to it, whether Tsumiki still lies on her bed with her phone for a maximum of five minutes at the same time every day.) The two of you sit on the foot of the bed, the lack of light unquestioned. Just like things were two years ago. With the lights outside his window, the bustling city still abuzz with their izakayas and night clubs, your eyes can trace over an outline of his sharp face and spiky hair.  

“How long will you be staying?” 

“Quite a while, I think.” 

“...which is?” 

“Probably more than a week.” 

“Wh— then what about school?” 

“Oh, I kind of, um… threw it away. I don’t know, um. My parents knew I’d be here for a long time. I think I’m just going to transfer here. I’ll leave it all behind that way.” 

He sighs, “I know, but that… that just sounds like a thoughtless decision.” 

“The only part of it that I put thought into was whether I’d run away and live or stay and rot there. So when Dr Ieiri gave me a chance I just took it. And I’ll keep taking what she gives me. If not, then… I’ll be stuck dwelling on it for the rest of my life, I think.” For so long, you’d been trying not to do so; to not take that life-determining chance, to decide to dwell yearningly instead of live, and to appease your parents so at least your mother would have that sliver of assurance, but not anymore. They wouldn’t be in your life forever. 

“So you’re doing this just so you won’t live a life of regret? You’re doing this just for yourself?” 

“It’s the same thing as doing this so that I can help people. It’s two sides of the same coin. Not everyone has what I do.” 

“You sound like Itadori,” he says. The way he does so makes your chest ache slightly and you don’t know why. But nobody is as selfless or as much of an unstoppable force as Yuuji is. Nobody, ever. You turn your eyes away from him even if he can’t see you do so in the dark. 

“But Yuuji takes that to the extreme, I’m…pretty sure. I’m just trying to do what I can because I can.” 

You move your right hand to the side, fiddling with yourself, empty hands trying to find something to do. It bumps into something— something warm and soft. Skin. 

With imaginary chills running along your body, you feel Megumi’s left pinky finger loop itself around yours. He clears his throat, breaking the silence, and you look at him again, at the vague shadow before you. “—that’s…that’s my hand.” 

“Oh. Ah, okay,” you say. It feels right this way— comfortable, nervous, jumbled, calm— 

Your hands move slowly, your fingers trying to steady it like steering around an old, shaky wooden boat with only a paddle, set and ready to embark on a journey. Quivering, you pull your right pinky finger away before your hand is fully enveloped under the hold of his. The heat from his palm on the back of your hand transfers itself right to your face and neck. It’s summer, but it feels cold and hot in the best way possible. “Do… do you want me to let go? Do you want me to stop?” 

“...no. I don’t think so. Do you?” 

“No. I want to stay.” 

“Okay. Me too.” 

He does. 

In the silence you sit up, biting your bottom lip, your nerves like jelly and your brain probably fried if not for the lack of sleep. For a moment you decide to look at him, and you see him swifty turn his head away from you as soon as you do so. 

(—so he’d been looking at you?) 

What wakes you up is the sunrise, an early morning. It’s been embedded into your brain to wake up at seven sharp no matter how late you slept. 

He’s sleeping, his face down, water in his eyelashes— you suppose that’s why he has such crystalline eyes, viridian ones that remind you of summer and life and protection. Jade and grass. Shifting into rather uncomfortable positions so as to not wake him, you pull yourself away. 

His hand still remains snug over yours. 

‘Just friends’ don’t do things like this, you think. But at the same time, ‘just friends’ don’t fight curses or heal those who do so, and ‘just friends’ don’t have a third person they had better relationships with before they broke apart while constantly thinking of each other and decided to at the very least become active figures in each others’ lives again. 

This is scary, moving all too quickly. You’re being grabbed by the waist and thrust into a paraglider; you’re flying in the vast expanse of a boundless, unnavigable sky, manning a paramotor with no previous warning or idea of how to do so. 

But he's very beautiful like this. Hair so black it’s blue, eyelashes woven of silk, a jaw so sharp yet so smooth. The sun greeting the sky as it ejects itself from the inky-hued horizon. You don’t know if there’s a creator, or if there’s a god— you’ve heard of Christianity and many other kinds of faith, though you’d never really dabbled in any of them. But you’d definitely thank someone like that, because scenes like these are proof that someone like that exists, and that that someone is an artist, a masterful artist. So he must have created you and given you an apt appreciation for beauty and art, too, as well as someone like Megumi who was beauty and art. 

‘Just friends’ don’t think like that. 

But you still will anyway. You can allow yourself that. 

He makes a tired little noise as he wakes up, taking in a deep inhale. “...did we really—” 

“Yeah. Um. —wait! I should, um, probably brush my teeth first, my breath probably smells horrible right now, sorry—” 

“Oh. No, it’s fine, I should too—” 

“Yeah, I think I’ll go back to my room too; I don’t want doctor suspecting anything, ah—” 

“Oh— okay,” he releases his hand. 

It’s strange to have things like these— little snippets and moments that remind you to just have fun and be a kid. For years— maybe your whole adolescent experience so far— every day hailed with it a new matter to tend to and worry about, and every day you subconsciously wondered if you were wasting your life away, doing nothing but fantasise of a faraway fancy in which you could use the only potential you had for something. 

But who knew that it was so simple, yet so profound: that the excitement and memories that you yearned for could be obtained just from wanting to do so? That if you wanted to do something, you could just up and do it? 

You like it, though. The paralysing, dizzying feeling of it all, breaths caught in your throat and you can’t say anything without stuttering. The last time you’d felt it, it was Yuuji: you’d had yourself emotionally constipated to the point you choked it all up within you, toned things down and muted the intensity of it all before you even felt it. But it was fun then, and now this is much better. It would seem delusional to hope for anything else. There’s not much of a fantasy for you to look to and put yourself into a deluge of daydreams about, but for once you want to feel something without the implications. That must be what being a teenager is like— you’d seen it time and time again in movies, with cliques and girlfriends and gossip sessions, but you’d never had the luxury to have them yourself and be a girl like that. So this must be what it’s like, at least a semblance of it, with its fun and frivolities and feelings straight from familiar flicks. 

Not quite the time to put a name to it just yet, but it’s fun. At least, you can do it a little longer. It feels like a breath of fresh air after chaining yourself down like an anchor to the seabed. 

You rush to the door. “I’ll see you later? For breakfast,” you try to smile as calmly as you can while you turn back to look at him again. 

Thank goodness Dr Ieiri wakes up at eight whenever there isn't much work for her to tend to. 

You set a mission for yourself: hold Megumi’s hand again at least once in your high school career. 

Now that’s how to live without regrets, be a teenager, and have fun. 

Are you being delusional? 

You don’t know what Fushiguro Megumi is to you now, because ‘friend’ doesn’t sum it up well enough, ‘stranger’ doesn’t do the two of you your deserved justice, classmates isn’t the actual term, and ‘boyfriend’ is way too far from the truth. 

So to have dreams like that; thoughts like that, you think as you brush your teeth, you’re probably making a fool of yourself again. 

There’s something going on here and you don’t know what it is. And even if you’d told yourself you were fine with it, you don’t know how long everything else will be. 

It makes you feel like an idiot. 

But in your head you're filled with thoughts and, for a lack of a better term, hindrances. Did he sleep well? Do friends do that? Or was it just the two of you who’d do that? Was there even any meaning behind it all, any implications on your relationship due to this? This way you’d drive yourself insane before you could even get to breakfast. 

Did he like it, though? Could he have liked it, the sight of you sleeping next to him? Of vulnerability? No, he couldn’t, right? Yet, if he did, then—

You needed to calm down. 

(What about the letter?)

Maybe this was adrenaline: you’d run and take a few bites of breakfast before anyone else did, heading back to your room after you had done so. This way, nobody would see you. (You weren’t calm enough to do this, what made you think, in your sleep-deprived mind, that you’d be mature enough to handle this the next morning?) 

Just as you’re planning strategies to spend the whole day holed up in your room and avoid contact with anyone for it all, there’s a knock on your door. 

“Took so much to talk to the dad alone—” he says, his voice muffled as he speaks to someone else, “I could never stand that old geezer! If he’s like that I’m glad I never had to know how much worse his wife is.” 

It’s Gojo, you can tell. There’s a slight mocking tone in the way he does everything, in the way he says and laughs about the most out-of-pocket shit ever— this is one of those times, because you can almost hear what you think is a feral maniac with the voice of an idol laughing like a loon as he bangs against your door as if he’s trying to kill it. 

“You probably shouldn’t hit it so hard.” Dr Ieiri’s voice. 

You open the door. “Yes?” 

“He’s saying that you should come as backup, and I thought it would help you be put on the spot. It’ll teach you how to operate with clarity as you work,” Dr Ieiri explains. 

“Besides, you won’t even need to help that much. It’s just that this way, you’ll be able to do so if it’s needed while we’re here to guide you. Think of a baby taking its first steps with the help of its parents. If it gets dangerous for them, I’ll step in and you can heal them, but if you can’t heal them enough, we’ll just bring them back to Shoko,” Gojo cheerfully adds. Dr Ieiri nods along with him. 

“Ah… okay.” Your first “actual” lesson as an “apprentice”, then. 

“But first, you should change,” Gojo tells you, handing you a set of clothes, “Here. It’s a spare standard uniform that we keep for special cases. Now you can match with Megumi!” 

Your eyes widen, unsure of whether to laugh nervously or slap him or dash in the opposite direction— shawty a runner, she a track star.  

“I’m so sorry that he’s like this,” Dr Ieiri goes. Joking or not, she’s right. You’re sorry she’s dealt with him for so long, too. 

“...thanks.” 

“Don’t bully my student, Satoru,” Dr Ieiri orders, and you kind of like the sound of your new title. 

You wonder how Gojo got used to teleporting with his cursed technique, but you suppose that it comes with the innate ability to switch from one scene to another so rapidly without feeling at least a little sick— like how the shift from the quiet of the dormitories to the bustle outside of Harajuku has you feeling right now. The brightness of the summer sunlight feels like an intrusion as Gojo sets you down and you open your eyes again. 

“Wow.” 

“Oh, it’s [Name]!” 

Megumi looks away. He’s probably embarrassed to hell and back right now— angry at you, even, maybe. You weren’t sure anymore; you couldn’t even think. You try to let the heat rising up to your face subside without fanning it, steadying yourself beside Gojo, swearing that you’d like to be invisible just this once. 

“Sorry for the wait! I had to take up a call. I brought [Name] over here for backup too to get a grasp of the on-field experience.” Gojo says, waving at them, “Oh! Your uniform made it in time.” 

“Yeah! It fits great! Though I noticed it’s slightly different from Fushiguro’s. Mine has got a hood.”

It does fit him, you think, as you look at Yuuji. It looks better on him than it did when he sent you pictures of it over text. It’s easier to look at him now than Megumi. 

“That’s because the uniforms can be customised upon request.”

“Huh?” Yuuji tilts his head to the side, “But I never put in any requests.” 

“You’re right!” Gojo smiles, “I was the one who put in the custom order.” 

“Huh… oh. Well, cool!” 

“Be careful,” Megumi goes, “Gojo has a habit of doing that kind of stuff. So why are we meeting up here in Harajuku?” 

“Because,” Gojo clarifies, “That’s what she asked for.” 

“Oh!” Yuuji starts as the four of you walk out of the station, “You’re wearing the uniform too, [Name]. Looking good!” 

“Really? Thanks. I mean, I like the skirt. The uniform makes me feel like a fancy princess in a fancy school or something, but the skirt looks a little like it belongs to an elegant office lady.” 

“Uh, yeah,” Megumi follows, “You… look good. In the uniform, I mean.” 

You force out a laugh— “Haha, uh… you too. I mean, everyone would look good with these uniforms, right?” Wow… 

“...I guess so,” Megumi replies, looking in the other direction. 

If you see Gojo stifling his laughter in front of you, no you don’t. 

“We- we should get popcorn. I read online that said you could get really tasty popcorn at one of the shops in Takeshita Street.” 

“Yay, popcorn!” Yuuji exclaims, “I want some!” 

“Sure,” Gojo chuckles, “The shop’s pretty near here anyway. This is your guys’ first time in Harajuku, right, [Name] and Yuuji?” 

“Ah… yeah, and now that I think about it, Yuuji had never been out of Sendai until recently, actually. Right?” 

“Yeah, but I thought you’d have been to Harajuku before.” 

“I mean, I used to live in Tokyo, but I didn’t really move around. I think the most famous place I’ve been to is Shinjuku-Gyoen. Really pretty garden…” 

“Oh… then we should go around Tokyo one of these days!” 

“Yeah,” you smile, “We should! But you could spend a whole week exploring and you still wouldn’t see all of it,” you remark, “It’s a good idea, though.” 

“Fushiguro, wanna come along?” 

“Uh, sure…” Megumi goes, avoiding eye contact with you. You do the same. 

“...hey, is everything okay between the two of you? How come you’re so shy with each other all of a sudden?” 

“H-huh? Ah, no, no, it’s okay.” 

“You said ‘no’ twice. You usually only repeat words like that when you’re really worried about something,” Yuuji says. Curse his affinity for knowing you. 

“But it’s fine, though. Don’t worry.” 

“Uh… yeah. What [Name] said.” 

“You sure?” Yuuji asks again, a bit concerned. “Okay, then.” 

The rest of the walk mostly goes in silence— Yuuji excitedly heads for things to buy, from funky accessories to buckets of snacks. By the time it’s over and all of you are near the 400 yen corner, he’s decked out in all the Tokyo tourist gear, there’s popcorn in his hands, and sunglasses with frames spelling out “ROOK” on his face. (Maybe because he’s a rookie?)

There’s a well-dressed girl in front of you— you wonder if it’s her, but she isn’t wearing the uniform, so it probably isn’t— and a man most likely bald and wearing a wig with his black-and-white business suit. “Well, hello, there!” the man says to her, “Are you on the clock right now?” 

“No, not right now,” she replies. 

“That’s great! You see, I’m looking for potential models. That’s what I do! Would you be interested?” 

He’s scouting for models? 

There’s a sliver of hope in you that he looks at you next and asks you that question. You’re sure it isn’t going to happen, but you suppose you would like being told you were pretty by having a job associated with people who were— there was no chance, though. In Tokyo, the vast metropolis that it is, there are so many with better looks; better faces, prettier hair, nicer bodies— or people who dress better, walk more confidently; people who are adequate in all the ways you aren’t. 

The thought slightly shocks you, in reality— you haven’t thought about how you may not be able to compare with others since the time when you really did realise that Yuuji would never like you (not in that way, at least, and it still hurts to think about it). You never thought you’d feel that way again, and you never thought you would have to be surprised by such thoughts that had been brought in by something akin to envy or jealousy. 

“I’m in a hurry right now,” the girl denies. 

At least she probably knows just how beautiful she is. 

“Hey, you!” another girl calls. This one is just as beautiful— prettier than you, with brown (probably dyed) hair, and pretty brown eyes to match. She’s wearing the same uniform as you save for some titivations at the skirt, and she looks way better in it than you do. “What about me?” she asks, pointing at herself, “For that modelling gig. Hey, I’m asking what you think about me.” 

She’s so confident, it’s so cool… 

“Oh, well uh… I’m in a hurry at the moment,” the man says. Little bitch boy. 

“What the hell?” she asks, holding the man by the collar, “Don’t run, come out and say what you think!” 

“Wait, she’s the one we have to go and talk to? This is real embarrassing,” Yuuji says. 

Megumi mutters under his breath, “Yeah? So are you.” 

“I think she’s an icon,” you express. 

Gojo waves at her, amused, “Hey, we’re over here!” 

The girl slams the locker door shut after she places her backpack— a really tiny, cute pink one— into its pit of shopping bags. Probably to buy pretty clothes. She’d look really good in them. 

“Right, so now we have our three students! Oh— [Name] here isn’t really a student, by the way, I’ll explain later,” Gojo informs the pretty girl, “I’d like you to meet—” 

“Kugisaki Nobara. Be honoured, boys,” she says, stance confident, “I’m your group’s girl.” 

She’s so cool.

Oh, she’s judging them, you think as she stares at the boys. 

“I’m Itadori Yuuji. I’m from Sendai!” 

“Fushiguro Megumi.” 

“Ugh,” she lets out, “This is what I get to work with? Great, just my luck.” 

“She took one look and sighed— that can’t be good,” Yuuji says. 

“Are we going somewhere from here?” Megumi asks. 

“Well, we do have all three—” 

“All four—” Megumi interjects. 

“Ack— no, no, Megumi, I’m not a student, hold on—” You don’t want to be something other than a ghost, not right now, because then you’ll have to deal with whatever you’ve done in the last twenty-four hours that you’d rather beat around the bush and eventually forget about than anything. 

“Okay, we do have all four of you together, and since three of you kids are from the countryside, that means…” he pauses for effect— were you really “from” the countryside, though, if you’d moved around so much that you had no sure idea where your roots were? “...we’re going to Tokyo!” 

You and Megumi watch as Kugisaki and Yuuji chant the city name over and over in unison before arguing over where to head to. But this is Gojo— so there may be a catch somewhere that you just haven’t found yet. 

Megumi looks as annoyed as ever, much like the expression his younger self used to have when his eyebrows crinkled in exasperation from your antics. 

“If you quiet down, I’ll announce our destination,” Gojo begins, and the newly formed pair quiet down, “Roppongi!” 

It’s probably just something like an abandoned building in Roppongi, not Roppongi in all of its glamour itself. 

It’s an abandoned building in Roppongi. 

Gojo explains the situation after Kugisaki and Yuuji’s outrage— “There’s a big cemetery nearby. That, plus an abandoned building, and you’ve got a curse.” 

Kugisaki stops her raging when she finds out that Yuuji is still learning about how curses are formed. “Wait, hold up here. He didn’t even know that yet?” 

“To be honest…” Megumi starts to explain. 

She looks horrified after. 

(If you could, though, if you were anything other than a ghost right now— you’d tell her of how selfless and brave Yuuji is, of how incredible he is that he stopped at nothing to help his friends. You’d tell her that this was what made liking him as easy as breathing air.) 

Before the two of them head into the building, Gojo hands Yuuji a cursed tool— you’d never actually seen one before. You wonder if he’ll be able to wield it well enough: you know he has it covered, but you’re still worried about him anyway. (You always are.) 

And he gives Yuuji a challenge, too, though it’s more like an ultimatum. “Don’t let Sukuna out, okay?” 

Soon the three of you sit down near the building— there’s a block of concrete that you wonder why it was placed there for, and Gojo gestures for Megumi and you to sit down there. 

“Hey, you should be sitting here. I’m fine with standing.” 

“Nah, just take a seat. I’ve got to be on standby anyway.” 

“But you’re the teacher. You should get a better seat. And I’m not injured like Megumi, so I’m fine with standing.” 

“Pft,” he snorts, “You think I actually care about that sort of stuff?” 

You pause. “I… guess not. Thank you. Sorry again.” 

Gojo squats down instead, only his feet on the floor. “See? It’s better this way. Just you and Megumi in your own little world—”

“—please stop.” 

Megumi turns away from you again in embarrassment. 

“Anyway…ah, Kugisaki is really pretty,” you state, “And she seems really strong. I’m still worried, though. What if the curse inside is stronger than anticipated…” 

“...I think I’ll go in too,” Megumi says, “Someone needs to keep an eye on Itadori, right?” 

“You should rest and let your injuries heal, though. I mean, I could help you with that, but I’m supposed to wait for their injuries first—” 

“Well, the one we’re testing this time is Nobara,” Gojo highlights, “That Yuuji… he’s got some screws loose: he’s fearless— these things take the form of terrifying creatures who try to kill him, yet the guy has no hesitation at all. And he doesn’t have the familiarity with curses that you have. We’re talking about a boy who used to live a normal high school life. By now you’ve seen plenty of sorcerers and you’ve seen them give up because they couldn’t conquer their fear or disgust, right?” he explains to Megumi. 

He’s right, though. For someone who had no idea what curses were just a bit more than a week ago, it’s amazing how he can acclimatise himself to such a new life so quickly. When you’d first learned about curses and jujutsu sorcerers, the only reason your life stayed that way was because actually becoming a victim of it seemed like merely a faraway hypothetical, something that couldn’t affect you— up until your father revealed his cursed technique and you exorcised that curse in the store a while after. That was when the ghastly figure of reality that was jujutsu society reared its head and pricked you with its cold finger. As happy as you were after you’d exorcised it, you could feel that empty pit forming in your gut— you did it, thank goodness, but what now? And as your heart raced while you helped that lady, you didn’t address it. 

You supposed the benefit of your position was not having to at all. 

“Hasn’t Kugisaki already dealt with curses before, though?” 

“As we know, curses are born from human minds, so their strength in numbers grows in proportion to the population,” Gojo teaches, “Do you think Nobara understands? Tokyo curses are of a different level than those in the countryside.” 

The curse you handled before would be on the weaker side, then. “In what way?” you ask. 

“Their cunning— monsters that have gained wisdom will force cruel choices upon you where the weight of human life hangs in the balance. [Name], when you fought that curse last time, did it seem to be sentient or self-aware?” 

“...I mean, I guess it seemed like it couldn’t really see the other person there. It was just me and the lady who worked there, so… no.” 

“Well, to put it into perspective, [Name], the curse, had it been one from the city instead, could have done something like take the lady hostage to sort of threaten you and keep itself at large. So this test is to see if Nobara is crazy enough.” 

It wouldn’t matter, though— you were the healer, the medic, the doctor. Whatever level of martial prowess you were supposed to have didn’t concern you. 

“And speaking of tests, [Name]…” Gojo begins, “One of these days, you’ll have to get one too. As someone about to take Shoko’s role, this is your first test as a medic— every mission you get sent to will be a test in that aspect. But as a sorcerer…” 

“Hey. I’m not an actual sorcerer, though, remember? And you should speak with Dr Ieiri first if you want me to expel curses like one and all.” 

“Well, I didn’t speak to Dr Ieiri. I spoke to your dear old dad!” 

“What?” 

“Took a lot of convincing, but—”

“He didn’t tell me anything about this. I’m sorry— I know you just treated me well and gave me a better seat, but why didn’t you think to ask me first? It’s not like I ever really wanted to fight, either. And they were on-board with that. It’s just— why would you change that?” 

Megumi sighs exasperatedly, “Seriously, what is this?” 

“Yeah! What is this, Gojo?” 

“Okay, okay: I’ll share a secret with the two of you, then. You’ve always been tied together, so there’s no use in me telling either of you just to not tell the rest. Keep it between yourselves, okay? Think of it as another part of your shared bond,” Gojo says. 

You purse your lip. (Your mother did that a lot. There is nothing you can do that your parents are not entwined in even now; the roots of them have been planted so deeply into your life, ingrained so deeply into your psyche.) “Look, I just want you to answer me, Gojo. Why did you do it?” Why ruin a consensus that took years of compromise and arguments to settle on? 

“...because you can. I mean, it’s your philosophy to be like that, right? If you have the ability to help someone, do it.” 

“I mean, in essence, yeah, but what kind of point are you trying to make here?” 

“That I think with that mindset you’d make a pretty good teacher. You know,” he sighs with a faux furtiveness, “Your father had that same mindset, with his strength and his intelligence and his kindness, and he was one of the best teachers you could ever have. He wasn’t an actual teacher, but… he was the kind of geezer who people thought were wise and would seek guidance from. A great guy, actually. But to cut to the chase, what I’m saying is that I want you to be a sorcerer who knows how to fight, too, instead of just the doctor in the corner that you believe will be the peak of your potential. I think you can do better.” 

“So? I mean, as bad as it sounds, I don’t want to.” 

“That’s why I just want you to try. I want you to have that test and become an actual student here. Shoko doesn’t mind you not becoming one because she thinks they won’t send you on missions if you’re considered ‘too valuable’ by the higher-ups. But I want you to become my student— I’ll give you time to think about it, but look at this way: you have abilities that exceed what you think of yourself— imagine how it sounded to other sorcerers when they heard of you back then, a thirteen-year-old with a late-blooming cursed technique grasping control of it instantly and defeating a grade two curse, even healing the person left behind. Face it: you’re technically a prodigy. The only thing that separates you from others like you is your humanity that troubles you with a reluctance to believe you can actually do anything.” 

Harsh. “...I’ll think about it. But why spring it up on me now?” 

“Maybe you know too little. O-kay, children, listen carefully. Little [Name]’s father would be a relatively famous sorcerer just because of his partial position as a healer, right? For all your life, you were sheltered and protected by your parents who never wanted you to enter into the jujutsu world. I even spoke to your mother herself, remember? Told her that you’d probably be a window but that you could still use cursed energy. You hadn’t shown signs of a cursed technique yet, but we hadn’t considered that it was because prior to that you never had to use it— the countryside areas you grew up in were practically devoid of any curses that your mother and father wouldn’t have already killed themselves. So, with your father’s quote-en-quote ‘fame’, what makes you think that people wouldn’t have wanted you as a jujutsu sorcerer from the start?” 

Just like that the worlds in your head have had worlds of meanings added to them. 

“So? What do you think, [Name]?” 

You turn to Megumi. When you’re backed out into a corner, your eyes scrambling for a place to put them, you turn to Megumi. 

His hand moves hesitantly to your shoulder, ghosting over it like a teapot over a china cup. “...whatever it is, you’ll do well. Gojo just likes to pull stuff like this.” 

It feels warm. You won’t be in trouble if you don’t run away from this. It’s nice. It’s calm, his steady hand on your shoulder as your heart feels like it’s about to take a nosedive. “...thanks.” 

“Give me some time, Gojo.” 

Yuuji and Kugisaki come back with a little boy in tow. 

“Ah— you’re back!” 

“No injuries, [Name]! We’re all scratch-free! The kid has a bruise on his knee, though.” 

“Oh. Can I see it, please?” you ask the boy, kneeling to his height. 

The boy pulls the left hem of his pants up, revealing a fresh violet blot on his skin. 

“Would you be okay if I touched your knee? I can take the bruise away for you.” 

He nods and soon it’s gone, his skin pristine and new. “Woah,” he goes, “Thank you! Was that magic?” he asks, eyes full of childlike wonder. 

You giggle. “Something like that. Could you keep it a secret?” you make the best welcoming and kid-friendly grin you can as you place your index against your lips. 

“Okay!” he whisper-shouts, smiling wide. 

Kugisaki and Yuuji rest by the building while Gojo, Megumi and you bring the kid back home. 

“You know, I wanted to say, big sister,” he starts, looking up at you, “You’re really pretty!” 

(So cute!!) “Ah, really? That other girl is really pretty too, though.” 

“You too! You could be like a model on a poster!” he exclaims, “Oh wait— I live over there! Thanks again!” he points to the turning on the left. 

“Haha, thank you,” you reply as Gojo waves at him, “Take care of yourself!” 

“I will! Bye-bye, big sister!” 

“Are you hungry?” you ask Gojo and Megumi. “Ack— I feel lightheaded.”

Megumi turns to you in an instant— “You didn’t eat enough for breakfast?” 

“Guess so,” you reply, “I should be fine, though. I think I just had something on my mind the whole day and I couldn’t feel the hunger or something.” 

He whips his phone out. 

“Oh, there’s a famous tonkatsu restaurant back in Omotesando,” you suggest as he scrolls through restaurant options. “I think Yuuji may want to eat something like steak, though, and I don’t know what Kugisaki likes. Is there anything you want in particular?” 

“I’m fine with anything,” he says, “But it’s Gojo’s money we’re going to be using, so we should probably make the most of it.” 

“Mm… we can eat beef steak in Ginza, I think… ah— Yuuji’s grandfather always called it beefteki. I’m surprised I can still remember.” 

27-6-2018 

“Hi. It’s one in the morning, Megumi,” you greet him as he stands outside your room’s door, “Can’t sleep?” 

“...yeah,” he admits sheepishly, “Sorry about this.” 

He sits down on the bed. “Nah, it’s fine. It’s like we’re going to keep doing this,” you start, “Our special ritual. Something like that. I mean, we help each other in this way, right?” 

Your hand strays upward a little, nervous as it inches toward his shoulder. 

He brings your hand there and places his own hand on top of it. “Yeah,” he replies contentedly, “But I… wanted to ask,” Megumi begins, “What Gojo said. Are you going to become a student?” 

“I don’t know. I mean, looking at how things are going now, I may. It seems like things are leaning more towards me being a full-fledged sorcerer. Haven’t had the time to think about it.” 

He seems to pause for a moment, to reconsider something one last time like a record in his head. 

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” 

“I should take you to see Tsumiki first.” 

You nearly gasp. “She wants to see me?” After all this time? “I’m happy, but… wouldn’t she be busy, though?” 

“No… I mean… you really should take a look at her first. Then you’ll see what I’m trying to say. I’m sorry, but I just— I really should have told you sooner.

“Told me what?” you frown. Learning of this feels a bit like restarting and going back to square one somehow. 

“I’m sorry, can we just… do something else for now? Just… please be patient with me a little longer. I’m sorry you have to do that so much.” 

“…okay.” 

You wake up to his figure being illuminated shyly by the light of dawn. In the tiny bubble that the two of you share— of intertwined paths, secrets, lives— and the sensation of waking from a late night, you realise just how much you want to stay there forever. 

This morning, you don’t rush back to your room and hastily go through your routine. All you do for a while, for what feels like it lasts for a century yet lasts for too little time, is look at him, at his steady, quiet breathing as his eyes are shut comfortably tight.

taglist:

@bakananya, @sindulgent666, @shartnart1, @lolmais, @mechalily, @pweewee, @notsaelty, @nattisbored

(please send an ask/state in the notes if you'd like to join! if I can't tag your username properly, I've written it in italics. so sorry for any trouble!)

[atinyjules]

XIKERS REACTION TO S/O'S ELDER BROTHER BEING AN ATEEZ MEMBER

(Maknae line ver.)

So I'm back! After an unnecessary break! 🤣

Without delaying it for any longer let's just get to the reaction!

(hyung line + middle line ver.)

Genre: Fluff

Pairings: Xikers x Reader

Warnings: None except a whole lot of fluff~

Yujun

He had already known that you were San's younger sister...well, technically everyone did sin you were one of the producers under KQ and San was a proud brother. Not even in his million dreams did he ever expect to date you but love had other plans and the both of you began going out together in no time.

Obviously San knew you were seeing each other since you tell him EVERYTHING and he was more than happy. Heck, he was your biggest supporter and always helped you and Yujun meet each other outside of the company. Even when the company found out San had threatened to bring down KQ if they tried to break you guys up which they didn't. The company support you and Yujun's relationship and the both of you were forever grateful to them for that.

San was the best brother one could ask for, he was a good big brother to not only you but Yujun as well but it had its cons as well...one of which consisted on him always third wheeling you two.

"What...are you doing?" you ask San as he smiles and squeezed himself between you and Yujun in the middle of your movie date at home.

"Keeping you guys company~" he said making you groan as Yujun laughed.

"You promised!" you whine as Yujun butts in.

"I don't mind!" Yujun said clearly because he didn't want his sunbae to be upset.

"Yayy!" San chimed as you groaned and continued playing the movie.

Even though he tends to tease the both of you and third wheel your dates he knows his boundaries and knows when to stop.

Hunter

Hunter obviously had no idea who your brother was and upon hearing that Wooyoung was his favourite member you knew that you HAD to prank him and well, knowing Jung Wooyoung you knew he'd say yes to help you prank your innocent and adorable boyfriend. So the sequence of the plan was to tell Hunter that your brother wanted to meet him and see if he was good enough for you and when they finally meet Wooyoung would pretend to be unamused and surprised that you chose him as your boyfriend.

Of course, when the day did come and when Hunter met Wooyoung. Jung Wooyoung the Supreme Prankster could not bring himself to go with the plan when he saw the nervous/scared look on Hunter's face. Well, so did you...when you had told Hunter and met him you already regretted ever thinking of this prank.

So Wooyoung broke off the cold atmosphere with a groan and told Hunter everything and gave him a hug.

"I CAN'T DO THIS! OMO I am so sorry! This was supposed to be funny but you look so nervous! I didn't want our first meeting go go like this!" Wooyoung said as he held the not-so-little boy's shoulders.

"Huh...." Hunter just stood there confused as Wooyoung patted his shoulder.

"Me and my sister wanted to prank you but you looked so nervous that I couldn't bring myself to prank you!" Wooyoung said as Hunter's jaw dropped.

"But in all seriousness...you're a good boy. You're perfect for my baby sister." Wooyoung said and well let's just say you had a wonderful time that day when Hunter came to your apartment feeling super clingy and peppered you with kisses.

Yechan

Mingi was already super happy with the fact that he had a cute and adorable little sister like you and then he finds out you're dating Yechan and he couldn't be any happier with the fact that he now has a little brother too. When Yechan and Mingi meet each other away from the work environment as your boyfriend and your brother respectively Mingi already gives him his blessings to marry you in the future.

Then on both Yechan and Mingi become besties with you always being the topic of their discussion. You were more than happy to see your favourite boys getting along really well. Their friendship and bond also brought along a string of unofficial collabs. The first time you get to hear their songs is on your birthday when they performed a rap number composed specially for you.

"Aww that was amazing!" you say as you move to give both of them a big hug.

"I'm glad you loved it! Me and hyung stayed up all night making this song!" Yechan said making you tear up as you gave him a big hug.

"Stoppp! I'll cry! You guys are so cute! You better get married in the future!" Mingi coos and picks the both of you off the floor for a group hug.

It's safe to say that your brother and personal hype man approves of your relationship and both you and Yechan were forever grateful for it.

i did not expect this one to be sooo fluffy but I ain't complaining!

I hope you guys liked it as much as I had fun writing it!

💗✨

Reblogs and likes are appreciated!💗✨

[kapyushonchan]

My (not so) short review that nobody needs hear for this update - KFOS and SOCN

*sighs* Boy, where do I start?

TLDR: KFOS and SOCN turned out disappointing. This is my personal impression, reasons below, warning - lots of letters.

KFOS - first, my minor pet peeve - I don't like that they stopped giving cutscenes with the favorites except Christian. Ram, Kamal and Sara have much fewer of them with Devi compared to him. I also noticed that the cutscenes have lost quality? Just close-ups? I've had the impression before that stories that drop in the rankings get less resources.

Second - I think Stasya doesn't "feel" the story yet, because the only emotions I experienced while reading were my disgust and tension during the dinner scene.

Well also Doran turned out well, his not-so-passive agression with wishing a long life to the queen (especially in the context that he can't express his displeasure with Englishmen directly and he can't kill them all, so he turns to caustic sarcasm) is just slay king energy.

Third - and here starts my rant - a lot of interactions feel artificial and underwhelming. Devi's confrontation with Clara in the street seemed just like that - artificial and not really well thought out. The concept of the scene itself is good - Devi sees how Indian servants are bullied in Britain and lashes out. But the tone, the consequences that author chose to portray is just.... Devi just pulls Guy Richi and shuts the racist arrogant lady up. Yayslay, but… was it me or it was underwhelming?

RANT

Come to think about it, you didn't have to go to Britain to see that behavior (or all those Indian movies I watched and a few books I read kind of misled me). AFAIK this attitude was common in occupied India, as some of the British upper and not so upper class moved there to occupy and make easy money there. They built districts to their taste and style - all those clubs and establishments where Indian servants worked and where Indians were not allowed to enter. The police, too, were subject to the British. This apartheid and humiliation could be seen in India at every step, but Devi notices it only in England? And, bear with me, but I really think she couldn't just go to a high society lady and berate her for the way she treats her servants without some consequences to her and to Christian reputation. Devi has not changed Clara's mind with this argument, and she certainly will not change the mind of the whole of English society, which stands on the opinion of the exclusivity and superiority of the British Empire over all nations that have not risen to the level of their greatness. That's how empires work. Devi's act was from the good heart, but impulsive, and she would be spoken of not with respect but with contempt, saying that Christian had chosen “a rude savage” as his bride. Because Devi is not at home. She is in the land of her enemies. Because the whole thing was truly none of her business and it's not her servant, and also doing that she could have made things much worse for the servant-girl and for Christian's reputation (breach of etiquette! that Devi likes to bring up when someone's rude to her). And in this situation it doesn’t matter how angry Devi and we as readers would have felt, because we are in a different world and we’re not making the rules there. We should be uncomfortable with this scene, we should feel anger and frustration in this scene.My point is that the scene would have been more realistic if at its outcome Devi was faced with indifference, condescension and judgment, as if Devi had done something wrong (she hadn't, she just ended up in a world where such attitudes were the norm). Devi should have felt like she was in the Looking Glass, she should have been thrown off balance by the situation. Girl power slay in the style of "I'm Basu and who are you?" doesn’t work here. Or rather it doesn't give you a nuanced outcome of the situation. Even if Devi had come out of the verbal confrontation victorious in her own eyes, society would have gaslighted her. And because of that sence of powerlessness, her anger would have gotten even greater, and she would have actually cursed Clara with the help of the Dark Mother. And Devi would realize that she can't behave in England the way she did at home. It must be infuriating, annoying, but it's something she and we as players have to put up with. It resonates with us, we have to feel these emotions. I would read, of course, how the heroine deals with injustice, but if we have a story about colonialism and the Dozen trying to throw off that yoke, why aren't we shown such scenes in all their colors? Because mere words and knowledge of the etiquette are not enough. I also think Devi's connection to the Dark Mother's anger could have played out as a sort of Death Note, where Devi curses someone and then misfortunes happen to those cursed people.

I think the artificial tone of the story is my main problem with season two in general. Devi finds herself in a foreign hostile country, but now she's acting like Amala in India and by simple demands she shuts up the lords and ladies left and right just by demanding respect and they just listen to her and shut up. And it looks like a safe route, like there are no stakes there. And with change of the “location” we have to feel discomfort - but not with food, weather and new clothes, but with a feeling like we’re walking on eggshells. Devi, in a conversation with lord What's His Face, intimidates him with Christian, and he stops harassing her. But then the same lord makes a shapito show of provocation at dinner, showing that he doesn't give a damn about Christian's opinion and doesn't give a damn about him in general. I'm not saying there shouldn't be provocation, it shouldn't have been so brazen and direct in words. After all, English high society can masterfully insult in a veiled manner, and the author's skill in writing such dialogues was clearly lacking here. Imho (just my imho) storywise here, in England, Devi should realize how lucky she is to be a member of high Bengali society where she is respected, valued and listened to, when in England she should feel that she is looked down upon, trapped and treated worse, like a second-class person, no matter what her background is. Here, if you are on a route with Christian, there should be a test of his and Devi's feelings in the context of the contempt of the entire upper class society for the "second class people" as they see Indian people to be. Christian has to experience that he has become a pariah in some way by choosing to marry a Devi.

I may have a misconception of how things worked back then, but my thoughts are that it's like all the tension is gone from the story. And there should be - it's a story essentially about two factions who hate each other, who don't want to make contact and settle because it's a story built on a colonial takeover. It's toned down here, yes, it's not historically accurate and all, BUT: if this base of historical events gives you an opportunity to use a great source of conflict, disagreement, and drama - you use it (that's why the provocation with beef at the dinner resonated with me -  I was fuming!). And alas, I'm feeling less and less of all that. Especially after the first season that SLAYED.

Also, Devi's offer to Doran to team up with Christian, to use him, would have looked different and even more tense if those political and social nuances worked, and their interaction wasn't just some game of "who knows more". What kind of games are these anyway, they're on the same side, behind enemy lines. Devi could have shared her frustration with her experience in England with Doran and then open some cards to him and admit that they need Christian's resources to determine who's sowing turmoil in the Dozen. There could have been some great GOT-style dialogue here, not just the "The Executioner despises the Englishmen and therefore won't even consider it, he needs to be persuaded", but "The Executioner has been through enough in his life to know that if there's a chance, you have to take it, politics is always played dirty". Doran is described as intelligent after all, not just angry walking muscles.

Well, that's just my thoughts and impressions, you're free to disagree with me here. I'm probably asking too much from a visual novel, I never read them with a magnifying glass to look for nitpicks, but…. But I really liked KFOS S1 ._. And I'm sad for the untapped potential.

SOCN - I was disappointed too. I think Remy's original idea to write that Agnia and Amen attack Livius and Eva but were saved by Seth worked better.

Now, it's friendship and magic, no conflict and drama. The two sides of the conflict resolve everything man-to-man, blow off steam and agree on everything.

And I have the feeling that all the seriousness of the situation has gone somewhere and everything has descended into some kind of farce.

Okay, Amen using Livius and Eva to achive his goals still works fine. But Seth, who fights Amen for fun and then agrees to cooperate with him - no. Just no. It's seems OOC. It doesn't work. Even if he's weakened like a God. Even if he needs Hemseth so much. Seth is a god, he has pride and principles, and there's no way I believe he'd choose to work with someone who kills his followers and weakens him. Neither will Amen agree to work with Seth who he thinks is some kind of Supreme shezmu. He hates the Supreme. He wouldn't go for an alliance either.

Has the writes watched too much of House of the Dragon? WHERE ARE MY CONFLICTS I'M ASKING YOU I'M GOING TO START A SCANDAL

I thought that Remy's decision that Amen and Seth couldn't be friendsto MC like the other favorites had to do with this intransigence, but no, some other reason.

What's the point of not being friends with the favorites if everyone's drinking beer and making truces with each other???

[gacha-incels]

@frozenemus I want to eventually do a larger and much more researched post regarding misogynist men who are drawn to these types of games: socially, psychologically, financially and historically especially in South Korea. I don’t want to wait that long to reply here so I’ll let you know my thoughts so far which are by no means going to be a comprehensive look at everything.

Yes, I think these games pander to what this type of man already believes about women and this is why they will flock to them. The “gacha game” medium comforts him with the always-available cartoon woman who can literally be “won” (not through confusing things like treating them with respect but rather money),will never leave (until EoS), obeys all his orders (through gameplay), and always looks perfect (because she is drawn that way).

I believe these games and in effect all mainstream pop/entertainment media (among other things) serve to uphold the status quo in one way or another. This is not a phenomenon unique to gacha games themselves. Media like this can have a significant affect on its population, which is why you will see the US military finance so many films, tv shows and videogames. I don’t think any singular pop media can do something as drastic as completely change a population’s opinion regarding an issue, but rather it can flatter its audience by showing them an easy lie rather than confront an uncomfortable truth, which in turn serves to solidify certain concepts in a society. This media often reflects back onto the consumer a stereotype or dichotomy they feel safe with, which in turn creates a kind of feedback loop of comfortable falsity that becomes enshrined as truth. This can be something as seemingly benign as replacing an actual eagle’s cry with that of a hawk’s because that’s what the audience “expects to hear” or more sinisterly the “third world filter” used in many North American productions when showing scenes in a country viewers “expect” to be in poverty. There’s been a lot written within the past couple years regarding “copaganda” entertainment which exemplifies a lot of this type of thing. Similarly I believe it’s been studied that when in times of big changes or economy crashes, more sequel movies will be made and toy store aisles will have an extremely stark divide between “boy’s toys” and “girl’s toys”. It’s in part to comfort the society that fears the unknown future with both saccharine nostalgia and familiar dichotomies with clear and dividing gender roles to fit into. You don’t have to think or be worried- it’s all been decided already so just get in the box.

The medium of “gacha game” itself I believe is the first thing that should be considered- the first message conveyed to the consumer is what medium the “artist” chooses to tell their story. In a whole host of ways, interacting with a book is different than a play which is different than a movie, etc. You can find, for instance, older books where directors write about the need to recognize and utilize the unique facets of film to get meaning across rather than fall back on the familiar and easy stageplay of the theater. Off the top of my head, I think Tarkovsky, Cocteau and Maya Deren have written about it in their books, and a more contemporary book I especially liked was Doug Aitken’s “Broken Screen” interviews. Anyway you’ve probably read or heard of Marshall McLuhan’s “the medium is the massage”(message), it’s something I would like to elaborate on in a future post so I won’t get into it now. The most unique aspect of the “gacha game” is gambling and often spending large quantities of money for in-game anime style characters to play as/command. Like I said in the last post, these games ride or die on high spenders dropping cash to max these characters out. EVERYTHING about the game must cater to this consumer first and any “artistic intent” will be filtered through the expectations of these customers. None of the story beats or, more importantly, character designs can afford to offend the gacha gamer. Artistic intent and concepts are neutered simply by the medium itself- sorry but this is why I find it ridiculous to see so many people venerating Arknights and Limbus Company as making some incredibly progressive statements regarding capitalism or feminism. It is antithetical to the very medium with which they chose to tell their “stories”, especially when the companies can tell their incel playerbase “don’t worry, we fired that nasty female artist! this game is just fantasy, no need to think about real life atrocities or those hateful feminists.” This gives these men the ego boost they want and imbues them with a sense of power, especially over women who they frequently get fired. Even this is part of gacha games- the power these men get to control a real woman’s financial fate and to make a company publicly refer to feminism as a hate movement. What does this tell you about their intended audience? This is getting long so I’ll make another short post regarding some character design specifics. Hopefully this somewhat could answer your question lol

[hey-hey-j]

so today we've made it to How to Train Your Dragon 2 and..... IDK it's better than Hidden World? It's not actively terrible but it's still a dreadfully bland, boring movie with none of the soul of the original.

for a movie that banks its entire premise around Hiccup reuniting with his long-lost mother, Valka sure feels like an afterthought to her own narrative. She's Hiccup's mom, and.... really, it doesn't feel like the writers put much thought into her beyond that. She's not really integrated into the plot that well, either—every scene she's in feels so detached from the main Drago conflict that you forget that plot is happening in the first place, and it doesn't help that the movie itself forgets to make her relevant by the third act. What does Valka do in the story after Stoick dies? I couldn't tell you, the movie doesn't seem interested in her beyond that scene! And it sucks because there are interesting directions they could've taken Valka, it just feels like the movie chose to play it safe and keep her boring.

(and like, I'm nit-picking here but I really don't like Valka's character design either the first movie promised me a burly mountain of a woman and now you present me with this waif?? This is a woman who has wrestled with dragons for 20 years where are her gains??? Where are her scars??? Why does she look 20 years younger in Hidden World I'm getting off track)

where was I. I wanted to say something about Drago uuhhhh..... I don't think he's that interesting of a villain actually he's kinda boring and one-dimensional and I don't think the movie's theme of "good dragons controlled by bad people do bad things" really works when the first movie had the Green Death as its final boss but whatever, we already know the sequels have no respect for the original.

I'm running out of things to say I'm just gonna conclude by saying that For the Dancing and the Dreaming is the only genuinely good thing to come out of this movie it's sweet I like it

[rhetoricandlogic]

Breathcatching: The Twice-Drowned Saint by C.S.E Cooney

Posted 3rd February 2023 by Sia in Fantasy Reviews

I was so determined to write this book a review that did it justice, I actually ended up reading it twice – once over a period of weeks; the second time, I gulped the whole thing down in a single day.

I REGRET NOTHING.

For real, though: this is a book that lost none of its lustre on a reread, which is a noteworthy accomplishment all by itself. I wasn’t bored for a moment, even when I knew exactly how everything was going to go down; I still felt all the Feels; I still got thrill-shivers at the breathcatching parts. I still loved getting to see an older (‘older’; 38 isn’t actually old, but you know what I mean) protagonist who is equal parts cynical and hopeful, snarky and smart; I was still gleeful over the system of holy benisons-as-currency; I still adored Betony, from her platinum crown to her dusty feet. I still wanted to watch movies at the Quick and wander beautiful, fruitful Bloom and take a peek at what books a public library in a city ruled by angels might hold.

But.

Cooney routinely leaves me speechless, and The Twice-Drowned Saint is no exception – despite having read it twice, I have no idea how to describe, never mind explain, this brilliantly, beautifully bizarre little novel, with its properly unbiblical angels, a possessed police-force, and a sacred cinema of silent, black-and-white movies! What am I supposed to say???

I loved it. Obviously.

I was not completely sure I would, at first! I dove in as excited as I could possibly be, but I was not expecting first-person narration, and was a bit disappointed, since first-person makes it hard to justify the gleefully ostentatious syntactical and lexical extravaganza that is Cooney’s prose in third-person. But I shouldn’t have doubted her; she’s established in multiple short stories that her first-person writing still glitters and gleams and glitzes, and so it does here in The Twice-Drowned Saint. In fact, I might actually recommend this as a good place to start if you’ve never read Cooney before and are wary of the purple prose (a term I use not derogatorily but with love) that I’ve raved about in her other books, because here, the dial’s turned down on the logophilia, but the story still sizzles and sears with Cooney’s signature quixotic whimsy and vivid, fantastical weirdness.

There were two things every Gelthic citizen knew. One: only saints could see the angels who ruled us. Two: Alizar the Eleven-Eyed, Seventh Angel of Gelethel, had no saint. He hadn’t had one for a long time. Now I will tell you what the angel Alizar looks like.

Neither of which would shine quite so brightly seen through the eyes of a lesser narrator, but Ishtu Q’Aleth is a main character whose personality and voice are every bit as uniquely distinct – and perfect for the story she’s telling – as were Maurice’s of The Bone Swans of Amandale or Mar’s of The Witch in the Almond Tree (short stories that can be found in Bone Swans and The Witch in the Almond Tree: and other stories respectively). But rather than being a shapeshifter (Maurice) or a witch (Mar), Ishtu is a little bit of both; a saint hiding in plain sight, having refused the call to serve the angel Alizar – at least, in the traditional way.

I was the Seventh Angel’s best kept secret. And he was mine.

Instead, she and Alizar are secret besties, while Ishtu runs the only cinema in a literal city of angels and Alizar does his best to mitigate the bloodthirstiness of his peers, the rest of the angels who rule over Gelethel, a rhombus-shaped city surrounded by a ginormous wall of ice in the middle of the desert.

Oh, and there’s holy popcorn.

Are you intrigued yet?

There’s so much to love here – silent movies so lovingly described I wish I could watch them for myself; a crime family that is also a charity family; attention to detail that goes right down to Gelethel’s very unique currency; and of course, the thing I was most excited about going into this book: Cooney’s take on angels. As someone ardently following #biblicallyaccurateangels on every platform that lets you track hashtags, I loved the angels of The Twice-Drowned Saint, because although Gelethel’s angels are not made of wheels and fire, Cooney has absolutely captured the vibe of Eerie Alien Otherness, the visceral feel of terror-glory-horror-awe that imbues old-school angels, and channelled it through her own aesthetic.

The angel Alizar sometimes looked like a human-shaped paper lantern, or a sudden release of soap bubbles, or a cloud. He glowed on the inside as if he’d swallowed a hive of horny fireflies, and on the outside, he looked as if a toddler with a glue gun had gone wild with the craft buckets containing outrageous feathers, and twining golden vines, and trumpet-like lowers, and thin, prismatic insect wings.

Superficially, The Twice-Drowned Saint is about how 38yo Ishtu (I’m still so delighted to see an MC who is neither a teen nor in her 20s!) wants out of Gelethel – which is completely forbidden – to get her ailing parents the medical care they need in some other city (angels, apparently, not being fans of public health care). Due to belonging to what I can only call a charitable crime family, Ishtu and her parents could sneak out – but Ishtu doesn’t feel she can abandon Alizar, who is the least of the angels who rule the city, bullied by the rest.

So it’s a good thing another saint of his appears to get the story rolling.

Because really, The Twice-Drowned Saint is a book about a revolution, a massive subversion of our typical assumptions about strength and power, about the rewards of violence versus the rewards of open hands and open hearts.

“That ain’t weakness, Q’Aleth. Weakness is killin’ someone for their bread. Strength is splittin’ your last loaf with them.

It’s about many different kinds of faith, and the treatment of refugees and immigrants, about the hoarding of resources when there’s plenty to go around. It’s about movie-making and storytelling and upending the status quo.

Of course, the poets and the outlaws won against him in the end. That’s what they did, in movies. Maybe the only place they ever did. And that’s why we need movies, Uncle Eril had once told me. That’s why it was such a great good thing–the day your father came to Gelethel.

Which is not to say that this is a preachy book bluntly bleating Moral Lessons at you; instead it’s scintillatingly electric, twisty and rich, fierce and gentle and sizzling. This is a book that bats its eyelashes at you and invites you in, then pours a cocktail of invisible wonders and sheer heart-full humanness down your throat; it’s sitting down in a theatre to a black-and-white silent movie and being blasted with sparkling jewel-tones and a full orchestral soundtrack instead. It always feels a little tongue-in-cheek, as though the story is giving you a wink and letting you in on the joke, even as it takes itself seriously with punctilious care.

Which, yes, sounds like a contradiction, DO YOU SEE WHY I’M HAVING TROUBLE EXPLAINING IT???

It’s so weird! It’s so wonderful! It is such a big glorious story somehow distilled into a powerfully short novel, and I am not doing it justice at all, but please believe me when I tell you it is marvellous.

As in, excellent.

As in, full of marvels and miracles.

Alizar the Eleven-Eyed was waiting there to welcome me. He was there, in the firmament, in the clusters of star-like eyes and the spaces between them. He was also all around me, sitting in my bones: jewel-flame flower bells, feathering ferns, the fluttering of membranous wings, a warm and golden thing, like a lamp filled with fireflies.

Do I have any critiques? Sure, but they’re extremely minor; I found it a little too easy/obvious that Alizar, the one good angel, is also the only angel who is aesthetically pretty – the others we see are all quite horrifying and monstrous. And although the grand finale was appropriately goosebump-giving, I didn’t understand why A Certain Thing was necessary – even on my second read, I didn’t catch any explanation or follow the reasoning.

You know, you gonna be a poet, you gotta get yourself some ink. In the real world, poets are head-to-toe tattoos. ‘War flowers,’ we used to call ’em, in Rok Moris.

But I really don’t care, because literally everything else is freaking EPIC. The surreal, wildly imaginative setting and worldbuilding; the pretty incredible complexity of each member of the cast and their relationships to each other (the uncles!!!)(no for real though THE UNCLES!!!); the frankly ridiculous number of times this book took me by surprise – both in terms of big plot twists and itsy-bitsy details–

And, of course, Ishtu herself.

He was like a cricket some kid had poured diatomite over. He was a murderer. A fanatic for the angels. Worse, a teenager.

Oh, Ishtu. *happy sigh*

In short? Yes, I loved it. Obviously. And I will be reading it again – not least because I caught two Easter Egg nods to Saint Death’s Daughter and Bone Swans, and am sure there are more that I missed!

[capsarcastica]

Twisters Review

A fun throwback that captures much of what made the original film so enjoyable. It provides enough of the first film's thrills and adds some new stuff to work on its own.

The movie certainly delivers what it promises: characters chasing tornadoes and small towns being destroyed. Just like the original, it's a a bit more complex than that. But it's nice to see a modern movie without so many of those modern movie problems. Besides a brief mention of tornadoes getting worse there's no talk about climate change leaving the story to just focus on the characters and situation.

The main characters are smart, flawed, and well developed. Kate is the new Helen Hunt, trying to overcome a past trauma. Tyler the new Bill Paxton, the charming guy who knows his stuff. Javi the new Cary Elwes, the corporate guy trying to get his own project going. I did think it was interesting that this time the main character starts off on the corporate side and the band of misfits would be seen as the problem. The side characters are less interesting. The original had a fun cast of supporting characters who all stood out in their own small way. The minor characters in this one don't have the same interest. The YouTube chasers are quirky but don't do anything to stand out. There's none of that friendly banter that fleshes out their backstory.

The main story starts off well but loses it in the third act. It starts off with trying to get a new system to analyze tornadoes working, a good continuation of the first film's Dorothy Sensors. Unfortunately, it eventually abandons this to focus on stopping tornadoes using a chemical process. The problem there is that it begins stretching believability and opens up logistical problems. The real world is constantly upgrading how we understand things, but stopping a tornado is like stopping an earthquake or the tides and is a bit much for what is otherwise a believable story.

The special effects are terrific. It continues the first film's respect for nature, having plenty of beautiful shots of potentially dangerous storms. The effects of the original still hold up, and this look just as good. The visual effects know when to keep the tornadoes shrouded in mystery and when to show them off.

I do generally like that the movie doesn't resort to blatant nostalgia bait to sell the movie, instead standing on its own. Too many legacy sequels are obsessed with recapturing the glory days rather than forge its own thing. That being said, I wish the movie had a few more connections to the first. The opening scene has a Dorothy V, which is a nice touch. But little else connecting the two movies. There was a perfect moment when Kate goes back home for a legacy character moment. Hunt, Jami Gertz, or anyone would've been fitting, the idea of someone passing the torch to a new generation. Maybe another sequel will connect Tyler in some way.

The original Twister came out when disaster movies were making a comeback, and movies could be sold on simply but entertaining stories and good visual effects. While not perfect, this one does a good enough job bringing that back to modern audiences. Hopefully a third film will continue the good work and fix those few problems.

[watching-pictures-move]

Viddying the Nasties | Absurd (D'Amato, 1981)

Decided to give this a rewatch after revisiting Anthropophagus a few days ago. This was originally intended by Joe D'Amato as a sequel to the other movie, but George Eastman, returning as both villain and screenwriter, decided to change this to something closer to American slashers. I remember previously thinking that this was a lot better, but the gap has shrunk with this rewatch. Not that I think this is worse this time around, but I've grown to enjoy spending time in movies more and feel less in a hurry to get through them, and the other movie offers atmospheric pleasures I'd previously underrated. The other movie kind of lulls you to sleep before hitting you with horrific gore in its third act. How suspenseful it is can be questioned, but the coastal setting gives you sense of being on vacation, having too much to drink or having your lunch go down poorly, dozing off and being jerked awake by a nightmare.

This one is a more... mechanical experience, but I don't mean that as a slight necessarily. The violence is meted out in steadier supply. And the movie in between isn't necessarily as pleasurable to hang out in. This time around we are not on vacation. Instead, the villain is being pursued by a priest. (The fact that both these characters are Greek I suspect is from when this was supposed to be a sequel to Anthropophagus. I should note that Eastman's hairline and complexion are in better shape here, sadly.) The police get involved, but aren't much help in finding him. There's a family, none of whom are interesting or even likable. The father hits the villain with his car and keeps driving. The parents have a party where they have red wine and spaghetti and watch American football. Most offensive is the annoying as hell kid, who for some reason is watching a movie starring Mark Shannon and Lucia Ramirez on the TV. The scene appears to be from Exotic Malice but dubbed so that they speak about love. But in any case, it is NOT a movie a child should be watching.

I almost respect how little D'Amato does to endear us to the victims, among whom is also Michele Soavi. Instead, this works as an almost pure exercise in mean spirited violence. There isn't even any nudity, a constant in the American slashers this was inspired by. The kills here are brutal not just in their explicitness but the excruciating lengths to which D'Amato will draw them out. The characterization of the villain, played once again by George Eastman, is conducive to the power of these scenes. He's animalistic, his brain regressed to violent instinct as a result of experiments to give him the power to regenerate dead cells, but not so animalistic that he doesn't know how to make use of what's at hand to kill his victims. When characters are killed with drills, meat slicers, or by having their head jammed in an oven and then stabbed in the neck, D'Amato wants to feel every second of their pain, every drop of blood, every ounce of viscera. There's a pulverizing effect to the violence.

And I should note that there's a decent amount of style here. Much of the colour scheme is in dark, particularly grey hues, which D'Amato makes the most of when he shoots one of the many, many scenes of characters walking through shadowy corridors. The knockoff Goblin music adds an extra pulse pounding quality to the kills. And the closing image, in which a character reassures another and then presents him with something likely to traumatize him for life, is hard to forget, even if it's for the wrong reasons.

[catsvrsdogscatswin]

I’ve decided to throw my two bits into the ring on what order the remaining Light Novels are going to get adapted into the anime, since I was right about Untold Origins getting adapted for S4. Only very minor spoilers below, and none about the actual ongoing the-Agency-was-framed plot in the anime.

To exposit for anime-onlys, Bungo Stray Dogs currently has eight light novels:

Dazai Osamu’s Entrance Exam (this is the Azure Messenger case with Kunikida) Dark Era (this was adapted at the beginning of S2) Untold Origins of the Detective Agency (this was adapted at the beginning of S4) 55 Minutes (this is a case that explores ability limitations) Dead Apple (I’m not explaining Dead Apple) BEAST (this is an AU where everything is not where it should be) Fifteen (this was adapted at the beginning of S3) Stormbringer (this is a story about Chuuya)

As of right now, only three of the eight LNs have yet to be animated. Dark Era, Fifteen, and Untold Origins were all mini-arcs at the start of the second, third, and fourth seasons respectively, and Dazai Osamu’s Entrance Exam was kind of awkwardly shoehorned into the first season with most of Dazai’s role in it stripped out. Dead Apple got its own movie. As of now, our options of LNs to adapt are Stormbringer, 55 Minutes, and BEAST. 

First off, I think BEAST is inapplicable. It got a live-action recently, they’re going to wait a while before they animate it, if they ever animate it at all. Which LN gets adapted into a mini-arc at the beginning of each season also seems to rely somewhat on tying it back to the current thread of that season, and other than the entire BEAST world being sourced from The Book, and its focus on Shin Soukoku, it won’t have anything to do with the ongoing arc.

Secondly, I think Stormbringer is unlikely to ever be adapted as a mini-arc at all, if the animation studio is being even slightly reasonable. I’m as eager to see Chuuya’s backstory play out on screen as anyone else, of course, but the fact of the matter is that Stormbringer is by far the longest LN yet. As far as the official English translations go, the median page count is 187, with Fifteen coming in at the shortest, with 152 pages. Stormbringer's page count is 340. It’s almost twice as thick as every other LN of the bunch. If they wanted to do that story even the slightest bit of justice and not compress it until it’s unrecognizable, they’d have to spread the “mini” arc out over half the season OR make it into an independent movie like Dead Apple. My vote is make a movie... so BONES, if you’re listening-

Thirdly, we have 55 Minutes. This is the one I see as most likely for them to adapt as S5′s mini-arc, if they even do one at all. They might not. 55 Minutes is centered around the actual scientific limitations of Abilities and Ability-users, and how those two things interact, and how various Abilities can interact and clash, etc. It also focuses heavily on Shin Soukoku, which will be relevant to this arc for reasons that anime-onlys will probably discover somewhere around the S5 finale. Eh, if you paid attention to the S4 opening, you’ll probably be able to guess why already.

So, yeah. My best scientific guess is 55 Minutes for Season 5, followed by a Stormbringer movie, and then maybe BEAST sometime somewhere when they get around to it.

[red-dyed-sarumane]

okay! i've finally finished the southern reach trilogy & want to thought dump bc thats what i do when i enjoy things 👍 im going to assume most people have not read this & explain as such

i'll be real i only picked this up bc i saw the movie based off the first book & was like "well huh" & then couldnt get the idea of an environment that just... refracts everything back and in on itself is just. so cool. it's such a cool idea. so when i saw in the credits it was based off a book i HAD to go read it the concept was too interesting i had to know what was in the book they couldnt translate to the movie

i got such a treat oh my god.

something that stood out to me pretty quickly, given im into a completely separate other series where none of the characters have public names, is that, iirc the movie DID give names but the whole first book theres no names. they each have a profession & are called as such. even as we get names in later books, only one of the og characters is ever named and the biologist thats one of the most important characters is simply that. the biologist. & it means absolutely nothing in terms of how impersonal or deep the character feels. because shes utterly complete and herself. respectable. i like that.

but most importantly the world, oh my god the world. the movie has its own not entirely off base take on it. different and yet similar enough. if u like fucked up worlds im recommending this 200% its just SO fascinating. its a little area cut off from the rest of the real world they call area x & it is protected by a sort of boundary but its. self refraction of things doesnt even begin to cover what its got going on. i dont even know how to describe it right. theres THINGS just so many unexplainable things, you think the area is out to get them but it ends up more like... the area's attempt at self preservation at the cost of the other, the intruders. like the whole thing is self aware.

the plants & terrain arent ever changing, not anymore than they would be with time, & not all of the animals are some fucked up threat out to get them. the area itself is the threat, impossible things in the sky, ocean, shadows weaving into the world & messing up whoever happens to come into contact with it. weird inexplicable things happening to those they send in to explore.

and at first it seems like a survivors came back wrong story. like whatever's in there, whatever fucked them up did so to such an extent none of the survivors even live long. which is fascinating in its own right like what is it that harms them to such an extent. & ur introduced to all the weird monsters & occurrences in a way thats like. well this things out to get them. & u need to know more.

& man the more the next 2 books give u is just so INTERESTING.

but first i have to say i hated the corporate mind games that took up 2/3 of the second book. hard to get through. johns such a man baby sometimes & its so frustrating seeing him just decide pieces of the puzzle are no use to him & getting rid of them. sick of his shit. i dont like him much in the 3rd book either but fine whatever.

the last 1/3 of the second book & like all of the third had the same "no what!?!? ur kidding!?!?" reaction as the first book had & was again interesting & easy to get through. LOTS of juicy secrets & info that ties things together & makes it make as much sense as it can & ends off in such a solid way, not without questions, but with a sense that even if those questions were answered, it wouldn't make any difference, would be maybe a trivia fact more than some grounding breakthrough.

also to whom it matters the cast is pretty diverse & natural about it, having them just be people in a situation & not relying on that to be a selling a point like i see in posts all the time here.

im going to get into spoilers here

the nature of area x is so interesting to me. the time paradox, the fact that time moves in a linear fashion and yet the area contains so much passage of time that just. doesnt match the outside world. the shock of grace saying she'd been there 3 years when it'd only been weeks and yet all the signs proved she wasnt lying. the way how suddenly all the decay & change in the area held just that much more weight to it. that things were even less what they seemed. that lended to knowing the biologist's 30 years in there vastly outweighed the real world's time. that part saying that people couldve lived there, lived out whole full lives between the time the border/area was created & when it was first explored because if the time difference just really hit me for some reason. its such a weird space.

and how the area handles people, not the book but the area, how it gets inside them, turns them into something else. learning that what came back from expeditions wasnt the originals. that the area got inside the people who went in & changed them into something completely unrecognizable. turned into a pig slug hybrid with only their face intact, into an owl, into some Thing writing in life itself on tunnel(tower) walls, into a giant fucking whale that can exist wherever it wants to. the fact that, initially, these are viewed as some fucked up creation recreated from who died there, only to be revealed that these forms ARE the original people and they ARE still alive, just in this new form, and while its implied they may not have the same frame of consciousness as people, its also not stated thats 100% the case- that no outsider can know for sure because people can only know people(or at least hope to know people). the whole concept that the originals have become part of the area living there or dying there in this new way, while the world creates copies of them, sends them back to the real world, fools everyone into thinking these copies are the originals, that something just happened to them and somethings not right anymore. that even when ones like the biologist's copy admits they arent the same person, no one believes them. thats so wild. & its framed that 3 people made it back for real, no copies involved, but the only one with any proof is the director. sure whitby & lowry have life spans unlike other "survivors" but at the same time, its also said theres no real way of knowing if the real or copy whitby lived, & iirc the footage seemed to imply lowry was different on the way back too although i guess that could be attributed to stress but its not like the things he says are very trustworthy either. anyway thats just to wild & intriguing to me, that while they're off living or fighting for life or dying, theres a copy of them they arent even aware of, creating a different truth of them to the outside world. neat concept.

the lighthouse keepers story, the way it all started, that kind of got to me. the way he was just doing his best at his job & the more and more u read u know its about to catch up, he about to be consumed by this & start its spread, and theres nothing anyone can do about it. and god the letter to him at the end. i came here to be fascinated and yet that final moment of human respect across people who were no longer people got to me & i ended up crying. which may be stupid of me. but i LOVE when a world can draw u in so thoroughly & then have characters to get caught up in & care about too.

& i love that the nature of this area is so bizarre that, even when things are stated as directly as possible , u think for a moment the narrator is hallucinating or or being vivid & only to moments later have it shoved it ur face that no, thats the reality, thats word for word whats happening. i had a LOT of "what in the actual fuck" moments & they were jarring of course, as they were meant to be for such a peculiar world, but jarring in the way that drew u in more, made u need to know more.

basically i had a good time & this is going to be constantly in my mind or at least in the back of it. a lot more going on then im saying here & if ur into fucked up world building then definitely give it a chance at least

[twenty-words-or-less]

Top 5 Worst Films of 2019

It's been a while since I gave you something from the vault, so you can have something, as a little treat. Best of 2019 and Best & Worst of 2021 to be interspersed throughout the next few posts.

IMPORTANT: There will more than likely be spoilers, because I do not respect these films enough to calmly articulate my feelings for them. Also there is way more swearing in this post.

5. Glass

It is a second sequel that shat on the second wind Shyamalan had after Split. David Dunn suffered an undignified death in a puddle and Dr. Staple is a member of an evil organisation that suppresses the existence of superheroes. The latter comes out of fucking NOWHERE and does NOTHING for the film, let alone the trilogy as a whole. Also, the last act is lifeless and I haven't felt this patronised by a film since 2017's Ingrid Goes West.

4. Hellboy

The 2004 movie is in my all-time top 10. This 2019 disaster of a multi-genre whiplash didn't have a chance from the off. Everyone was wasted in this, actors AND the musicians who contributed to the soundtrack. It was lazy, it was unnecessary, and the post credits scene - namely, them finding Abe Sapien - was so optimistic about having a sequel, it was cute. I'm glad it bombed. Hard.

3. Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker

Yep, the one I saw just yesterday. Whilst I wanted Kylo Ren to fucking die, the film also fucking made Reylo canon immediately before, which is the one thing I didn't want them to do. It's soulless, it relies too much on the original trilogy, it's too long for its own good, and oh my fuck is it a elevator plummet in general from TFA. And yeah, I know 'elevator' is American. In this case, it's more effective than 'lift'.

2. The Goldfinch

Proof that a film being based on a Pulitzer Prize-winning novel does not make it good. Every scene felt disconnected from the previous one, the plot likes to pop in for a cuppa every now and then, and it has more endings than a clitoris, none of which are anywhere near as pleasurable. Also, dear Hollywood: please stop giving Ansel Elgort work. Thanks.

Dishonourable mentions:

The Intruder: not as rage-inducing as the top five entries here, but still pretty crap. The character motivation is weak as hell and is never explained in a reasonable way.

Ma: Tries to be a hybrid of Carrie and Misery, fails at being both, can just wastes Octavia Spencer (and Diana Silvers, coincidentally in Booksmart).

Annabelle Comes Home: Straight up fucking boring. The best characters are only in it for about 9 seconds (proportionally speaking). Not much else I can say on that front.

And finally, the worst film I have seen this year...

1. Burning

Oh fuck me, where do I begin?This film is based on a short story, and at 2.5hrs is about 45mins-1hr too long for its origins. The protagonist is a gormless moron (GM), the love interest is a wet blanket (WB) and the third party is basically a Korean Gatsby (KG). WB disappears, and the film makes it out to be like KG didn't murder her (which he did, movie). The film treats us like we're stupid, some shots go on for far too long, there is no plot AT FUCKING ALL, and worst of all, I didn't care about the protagonists. GM wanks in WB's empty flat and then pretends to be sad when WB goes missing. GM also stabs the shit out of KG to death at the end of the film, and honestly, I wanted to jump into the film and stab the shit out of GM himself. [REDACTED] put this as their 2nd worst film of the year, and as much as I love them, 2nd place is far too generous. Foreign language films do not get a theatrical release in the UK very often, so this was an insult on multiple levels. I wanted to like this film, I did, and I want to know more about Korean cinema beyond I Saw The Devil, but this burned me in that respect and I do not understand the praise it got from critics. Fuck this film. Fuck it to the depths of hell and back. And fuck you, whoever decided to give this a theatrical release in the UK, for that decision. I hope that you will be forever tormented by mice living in your walls that eat your food and cannot be removed, no matter what. Fuck. You.

Thanks again for reading, and happy New Year, everyone! See you soon! Hopefully for a year that is better for films than this one! ❤

~Mikey

[legion1227]

Top 10 games I played in 2022

 10.Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2 3/5

The latest entry into the Call of Duty franchise offered a compellingly different and fun take on the campaign. While I haven't spent time with the multiplayer mode, I can comment on how the story mode is a roaring time. Levels include stealth missions, chaotic shootouts, and a delightful sequence that involves your character dangling from a helicopter upside down, rope around your ankle as you shoot enemies on the road. The cutscenes are immensely impressive, as each individual appears incredibly realistic. By the time the credits roll, the military propaganda game does a fine job of having players looking forward to what happens next in the story. 

9. MultiVersus 3/5

This game was quite fun for a short time. The fighting game starring popular Warner Bros Discovery-owned characters such as Bugs Bunny, Arya Stark, Superman, and others, seemed like the kind of game to top the other biggest party fighting game, Super Smash Bros Ultimate. Besides the previously mentioned characters, the potential roster for the game is high. Basically, any character from any show or movie you can find on HBO Max has a high chance of appearing in the game. However, I haven't touched the game in months due to the game lavishing in a state of stagnancy. The lack of other game modes, balancing issues between characters, and the absence of variety contribute to a middling game. MultiVersus seems more focused on flexing its wild roster than creating a worthwhile party fighting game. 

8. Vanquish 3.5/5

This third-person adventure shooter follows government operative Sam Gideon in the near future. The United States and Russia are battling over quickly depleting resources. You control Sam as he and his fellow American soldiers fight to win control of a space station before Russia can use it to destroy New York. Despite the sense of urgency in that description, the story told did not strike a chord with me. None of the characters, including Sam, are memorable, engaging, or even fascinatingly over-the-top. I was hoping for more from the company that also Developed Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance. I love that game, but Vanquish is nowhere near as fun. It's a third-person shooter that's acceptable in the shooting department. There are two features: one that allows your character to zoom around the area with boosters, and an Augmented Reaction mode, where time slows down as you shoot down enemies in your way. They're fun to use but are also limited. If you use either feature too much, you risk overheating Sam's suit and have to wait a bit before using it. I wish I could use more without worrying about overheating the suit frequently. It's enjoyable for what it is, but I would rank higher if the characters and gameplay were improved. 

7. Bayonetta- 3.5/5

Bayonetta and Vanquish came in a bundle package. Both Platinum-developed games were put together to celebrate their ten-year anniversaries, respectively. Bayo released in October 2009, Vanquish in October 2010, and the bundle dropped in 2020. Bayonetta has a worse story than Vanquish. There's simultaneously too much, and nothing at all that happens in the story. The titular character you play, Bayonetta, traverses level to level and fights numerous enemies. The real selling point is the gameplay. The action-adventure hack-and-slash is at its finest when mowing through grunts or tackling bosses. A variety of weapons, from guns to scythes, combined with unique-looking combos, provide a delightful time. I never experienced the Bayonetta franchise before playing the first game, so I did not know what to expect. As an avid story lover, I was hoping for a competent story. I did not get that, but the gameplay is fun enough to consider the game passable. 

6. Persona 5 Strikers- 3.5/5

Persona 5 Strikers is a sequel to Persona 5/ Persona 5 Royal. I have not completed either version of the game. I plan on beating the original version of Persona 5 sometime this year. I should have finished the first game before touching Strikers, but I managed to follow character dynamics well enough before beating the first game. The banter between multiple high schoolers as they venture in an RV across the country fighting monsters is the peak anime experience. Instead of being an RPG, like the Persona franchise is used to, the game is a hack-and-slash more akin to the Dynasty Warrior games. As a fan of Dynasty Warriors, I enjoyed the gameplay immensely. Cheesy dialogue and the story dragging slightly toward the end bring it down just a little for me, but destroying enemies in your wake is a blast. 

5. One Piece Pirate Warriors 3. 4/5

One Piece is one of my favorite animes, but they suffer immensely in the gaming department. Too many of their games are mediocre at most. Pirate Warriors 3 is made by the same people behind the Dynasty Warriors games and follows that formula well. Again, as a fan of the Dynasty Warrior franchise, I loved the gameplay and feel biased toward their specific formula. Each character has weight behind the string of combos you pull. Repetition plagues the game immensely in the dream mode, where Pirate Warriors presents uninspired what-if story scenarios you play with any character you desire. The story mode is an exceptional summation of the One Piece Story to a certain point. This a definite recommendation for One Piece fans. 

4. Spongebob: Battle for Bikini Bottom Rehydrated 4/5

As someone who grew up watching Spongebob, this feels like a love letter to the show's earlier seasons. Navigating through obstacles and perilous enemies while playing as Spongebob, Patrick, and Sandy was the most fun I've had with a platformer in some time. The Rehydrated version of the game is fine to look at, graphically speaking. The original version brought every voice actor from the show to the game except for Mr. krabs VA, Clancy Brown. This version is no different. I don't see why they couldn't bother getting him to record lines this time around. Besides that, the game has races, varying bosses, and undeniable charm. Battle for Bikini Bottom warmed my inner child. 

3. Fall Guys 4/5

I wanted to play Fall Guys from the second it dropped. I didn't get around to it until it became free on the PlayStation store last Summer. For months, the game was a hilarity to play. Playing for the first time with friends, flopping around on levels, and slovenly traversing through obstacle courses was a riot. The costumes they offer vary from franchises like Invincible to Godzilla. The game needs more variety in its levels as you play to win. They rotate out levels and game modes somewhat frequently, which helps combat staleness slightly. At this point, Fall Guys is still fun to play, but best when you do a couple of levels and then wait a while before you pick it up again. 

2. Yakuza 3 4/5

The main story of Kiryu Kazama looking to live a normal life taking care of kids away from the yakuza, coupled with the wacky side stories he gets involved in, highly elevates this entry in the Yakuza franchise. Yakuza 3 has the unfortunate pleasure of not receiving the Kiwami treatment that its predecessors received. Yakuza 3 did not receive the special remake treatment with updated, smooth fighting mechanics, instead getting a clean remastered. The story is just as superb as the previous games but lacks what made the fighting in the last two Yakuza games so fun. But it does everything else incredibly well, so I cannot be mad. 

Yakuza: Like a Dragon 4/5 

This spinoff of the main Yakuza franchise was surprisingly even more fun than the main entries of the Yakuza franchise. While most Yakuza games are beat 'em ups, this one is an RPG, most like Dragon Quest or Persona. The main characters you control are memorable and beyond likable. The choice to adopt RPG fighting mechanics is bold but fun for this game. It works for how zany the protagonist, Ichiban, sees his world after spending twenty years in prison.  Just like most other Yakuza games, it has a solid main story and a plethora of chaotic, endearing side stories. I cannot wait for the sequel to this one, and to make my way through the numerous other Yakuza games in its expansive franchise. 

[leucrotta]

Werewolf Watch - #2

I had a little difficulty selecting the film for this week’s review. My first pick turned out to be a Beowulf retelling (an obvious occupational hazard here), and the second had a title that I ultimately decided wasn’t respectful to talk about. In short, it was the name of a Native American concept that’s been pretty badly appropriated already, especially in recent years, and especially in online spaces. No need for me to make that worse. Perhaps including every werewolf or werewolf-adjacent movie I found wasn’t the best idea, but that’s what second thoughts are for. Second thoughts and third tries, which ultimately handed me...

BEAST: A MONSTER AMONG MEN

I’m realizing that there being little information about a film is probably going to be a running theme with Werewolf Watch. As much of the viewing list is made up of indie films, this shouldn’t have been a surprise. Beast is naturally among these, with nearly all of its cast and crew being unknowns who don’t even have headshots on IMDB, much less a long list of credits. (This causes a somewhat amusing moment when a synopsis spoils the film’s villain by the actor’s name. Which, of course, means absolutely nothing to me.) The sole exception is its director, one Mike Lenzini, at the helm of such classics as Manscaping, Extraterrestrial Encounters: The Greys, and Alien Apocalypse: Could Humanity Survive? At least we’re in the right genre. (Okay, perhaps not that first one.) Once again, I have no idea what to expect. Scream of the Wolf had bad reviews, as does Beast, but that first one was alright. Maybe Mr. Lenzini can surprise me once again?

Or maybe not. The premise seems to be a fairly straightforward “cabin in the woods”-type slasher, with five vacationing bros, and what must be a werewolf in the killer role. (We can only hope.) But is the titular Beast one of the vacationers themselves? Only time will tell...

(Please be aware that this review WILL contain spoilers!

TWs for this review include (very brief) mentions of SA and suicide.)

The Plot

The film opens with five guys (sadly no burgers nor fries) driving in a car, playing “Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon”, and doing a pretty bad job of it. This is infinitely irritating to one character, who we will later find out is named Mike. The others, for the most part, don’t distinguish themselves, except for one guy, who broods against the rear window, glowering in his black hoodie. Honestly, it’s kind of funny, and it gets even funnier when the movie stops to let all of the other characters stare collectively at the brooding guy until the scene abruptly ends.

At a gas station, because every horror movie about a drive must include a scene with one, we discover that Brooding Guy isn’t friends with the others, except for the driver. They used to be friends. The oldest of friends. Maybe. The dialogue is very confusing. All that’s clear is that Mike hates Brooding Guy, and the feeling is very mutual. On we go, into the obligatory driving montage. It’s here where the driver, whose name is Bill, informs the others that they will be staying at a cabin with no internet or cell service. For some reason, none of them knew where they were going before they got into what is later revealed to be a six hour car ride. The musical accompaniment for the drive is quite awful, and sounds like a cross between a bad Nine Inch Nails cover band and every 90s PS1 car racing video game soundtrack.

Let’s take just a second to establish the main cast, as things do get a bit confusing later, and the movie isn’t doing anything interesting right now anyway. We have the driver, Bill, who is boring; the passenger seat rider, Mike, who is rude and likes to toss out random slurs; Brooding Guy, aka Eli; a character that I assume is meant to be the comedic relief, Sean; and finally, awkward guy Chris. Mike and Eli get into a bit of a (one-sided) spat, which the music thinks I should be sad about. This means more knock-off NIN beats. The movie has gotten so boring at this point that even the characters are falling asleep. I nearly turn the film off, but decide it’s not far in enough to give up.

[Narrator Voice: Leu would later regret this.]

Finally, we’re at the cabin. It looks just like every other tourist rental in the Smokies, though I don’t actually know where this was filmed. After a quick and pointless tour by Mike (have to get our money’s worth out of this location), the boys settle down to make some weenies over the campfire, and of course, to slap each other with them.

Quietly, loner Eli goes to the truck by himself. He snatches the keys on his way, sneaking. From the truck, he withdraws a huge knife. Which he brings back to the fire so he can… cut his hot dogs. Sure. After an insult from Mike, he wanders off alone into the woods, followed by Bill (who is, remember, his only actual friend here). As he searches for Eli, Bill hears an ominous growl.

We cut back to Mike, Sean, and Chris, now playing “fuck, marry, kill” with female celebrities. Stay classy, boys. Not long (and certainly not long enough) into their banter, they are interrupted by an unearthly scream from the woods. Anyone with any experience among the wilderness will probably recognize this sound as a male elk’s bugle. In the context of the film, however, I have no idea what it’s supposed to be. A wolf howl?

After huddling close to the cabin in fear, the boys decide to go look for their friend (and his friend). With the keys still in Eli’s pocket, they are forced to go on foot. I, the viewer, resign myself to many, many shots of people vaguely stumbling through the dark woods. Case in point:

Yeah. There's supposed to be three people in that shot.

It’s from this point on that things just sort of… happen, one after another. Following some confusing dialogue (“where did the sound come from?” “I’m not sure, but I’m pretty sure it was this way”) one of the boy’s trips over a mangled corpse- oh no, it’s Bill! Now comes the first of many, many (MANY) arguments: did Eli do this? (Mike sure thinks so.) Was there really a girl screaming? What do they do now? Ultimately they decide it’s a good idea to carry Bill’s dead body around the forest in the dark, now lost. Seems like a smart course of action.

The boys stumble upon a camp. Mike sneaks up to the tent, wherein a truly pointless sex scene is taking place. He watches like a creep.

He then wakes everyone up, tells them the situation, and for some reason gets them involved. The new characters, whose names I am not going to bother remembering, consist of four people- though there used to be six. Two are missing, and we will never find out what happened to them. Which is fine, because as soon as the new group of seven (plus Bill’s dead body) hears another elk bugle mysterious scream, the two girls decide that their missing friends are dead, and immediately begin to mourn them. The film continues with even more people now wandering aimlessly in the dark. Bill’s body has vanished without note. The movie is getting bored with itself again, relentlessly showing us images of the full moon.

At some point (I’ll be honest, I missed how it started) the newer characters (group B) begin to fight with the original three (group A). At some other point during this, one of the newer characters goes missing. You can see why I didn’t bother to learn their names. There’s more arguing, and I’m not even sure what they ultimately decide, because I zoned out. Apparently they decided that the two groups should go their separate ways again, making this entire plot thread pointless.

There’s even more arguing. An actual human scream, followed by… I’m not sure if those are gunshots, or just the soundtrack being irritating again. One of the girls from group B runs into the arms of group A. She is traumatized by something. There’s more arguing and once again, I consider ending the movie, but at this point, we’re fairly close to the end. (Yes, really.)

[Leu will once again regret this choice.]

The boys somehow find the body of one of group B’s men, and take his keys. Mike tries to snap the traumatized girl out of her panic, but in doing so knocks her over onto a rock, which kills her. This takes forever.

Is it so much to ask that this movie just give me the werewolf? How much time do we really even have, here?

Thanks, Mike. Let’s move on.

After some discussion, it turns out that Eli might be the killer, and for a reason. These are my exact notes as I watched:

“turns out Eli might be doing this because his sister killed herself and I’m going to guess it right now, it’s because Mike assaulted her”

Surprise surprise, I was right. Although I didn’t guess that Sean apparently helped. Chris, now the only living non-garbage person, (except perhaps Eli,) is reasonably angry, and stalks off. Sean runs after him, leaving Mike alone. It’s at this moment that I realize what’s truly happening here. Happening again, rather. Because this is about to be the second time. The second time in Werewolf Watch (which, I just want to note, has only had two posts so far) that I review a werewolf movie with no werewolf in it.

I can’t believe this. Suckered again. I become almost as reasonably angry as Chris, whose admonishment of Sean is correct, even though the acting is still bad.

Blah blah blah, the two stumble upon where Bill’s body was, but it’s been dragged off. Sean goes to touch the blood and… something??? happens??? Mike wanders alone, in the dark night of the soul, or whatever. He finds the car that he has the keys to, and the movie tries desperately to wake up the audience with a car alarm. It does not work. Mike drives away into the sunrise. Somehow, the movie isn’t over yet.

Mike stops at a lake and gets out for some reason, acting like he’s about to puke as he stumbles around in the dust. He has discovered all of the bodies, piled in one spot. Sean is among them, but Chris is absent. Mike continues to stumble off into the woods. Eli appears. With a knife. Mike bigfoot-walks into frame. (Oh how I regret using those words now.) Eli looks high af.

Mike sees the knife and runs screaming at Eli.

Eli… IS IMMEDIATELY KILLED BY BIGFOOT????

I AM SCREAMING. CHOKING. DYING.

THIS IS INCREDIBLE. I HATE IT SO MUCH. PLEASE HELP ME I AM IN HELLLLLLL!!!!!

The Review

Well. Now that I’ve had a chance to collect myself, let’s just say that this movie did, in fact, surprise me. Unlike with Scream of the Wolf, this surprise was not so pleasant.

To be fair, I did laugh. I laughed so hard, in fact, that I choked. I don’t know if it was out of sheer absurdity or actual humor, if there’s even any actual humor to be derived here. I replayed the last few seconds of the film about three times, then sat for a while with my hands on my face. I know this is used often as hyperbole, but what did I just watch???

Not only is Beast: A Monster Among Men not a werewolf movie, but it’s not even a good movie at all. The acting is bad (except oddly enough for Mike), the music is bad, the pacing is abysmal, the story is nonsense, there are so many shots of people stumbling around in the dark, and even more scenes of people arguing. Constant arguing! All that lack of build up, all those shots of the full moon, those howling and growling sounds, the title, and for what! For the film to pull the rug out from under us in the last few moments, and become a bigfoot movie??? Listen, I’m not crazy. Look at this title card/poster again:

LOOK AT IT. WHAT PART OF THAT SAYS BIGFOOT AND NOT WEREWOLF??? WHAT PART, MR. LENZINI????

I give this movie a 1 out of 10.

Werewolf Effects

I don’t want to talk about it.

Werewolf Lore

Final Thoughts

Don’t watch this movie, for the love of all that you hold sacred. It will put you to sleep until the car alarm part, and then you’ll wake up just in time to see BIGFOOT ruin the movie. That was already not good.

At this point, I’m wondering if I should rename this post series “Werewolfless Watch”. Should I start screening movies ahead of time, looking up spoilers to make sure there are, in fact, werewolves? I don’t want to ruin my experience, but when will this madness end?

(Did I forget to mention that this movie had the gall to have an after-credits scene? That was just bigfoot walking around? No? Well it did. I hate you, Mr. Lenzini.)

[jazlynriddle]

Welcome to your life - Pt 3:

It's My Own Design Ch 12:

Summary:

Ominis fought to control his expression, to keep his hands from trembling. Five years. Five years since he'd seen his parents, and this. This was the reason they'd given him the honour of their time? This was the reason they'd sought him out at Hogwarts?

The bitterness welling up within him was thick enough to gag on.

New year, new allies, new responsibilities, new avenues of revenue, and new aspects of their own Ancient Magic to explore. As the Keeper and their partners enter their last year at Hogwarts, it remains to be seen if the new school year will bring with it new problems or adversaries, but they are confident in the strength of their relationship with Sebastian and Ominis. The three of them would endure, no matter what befell them.

And if they were wrong?

What a joke, they would suffer no alternative.

Warnings: Sebastian x MC x Ominis! Drug Addiction! Spoilers! Slow-burn corruption! Dark content! Fucked up 1800s orphanages! MC has no love for Anne or Solomon! Dubious happy ending (it's happy for MC, Seb and Ominis at least).

You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)

Notes:

Warnings: None, actually lol this chapter is pretty wholesome xD

Holy shit, this chapter is like 10k words in total. Why do my chapters keep getting longer? I tried to cut it, but the chapter refused to be split up, so you guys get an extra long chapter, enjoy! ♡

Why do I do this to myself-

Though, my partner is going overseas for a week in a few days, so I'll try my best to get the next chapter out on schedule, but I miiiiight have to skip an upload again, because they are my muse and I can't write without them, I'll have to see how much we can clear before their trip x')

But, yay! More making up magic stuff, I always like doing that =D

Also, I highly recommend listening to the track ‘Forbidden Friendship’ from the movie How to Train Your Dragon (god I love that franchise, the old TV series were great too. Hate the third movie and its subsequent stuff though) during the fourth segment of the chapter!

I was listening to the track while writing it and I think it goes quite well! ^_^

“I'm Ranrok's uncle.”

The Keeper tensed immediately and Borgok gave a deep laugh, raising his hands and revealing palms decorated with callouses, as he bared his teeth in a sharp grin. “Peace child, I have no quarrel with you.”

“In fact, I am... grateful for what you did.” He lowered his hands to rest on the table once more with a sigh, his expression pensive and sober. “Killing Lodgok showed us all that Ranrok had lost his purpose. His lofty goal of elevating our people giving way to pure lust for war and death.”

At his words, the Keeper relaxed. While they didn't necessarily believe him, yet, it would be better to give him the impression that they did. “You don't share the same desires that he had? For goblin supremacy.”

“I did... for some time, even served as one of Ranrok's Loyalists. But now… Now, I'd just like to be regarded by humans as equals, and for them to respect our customs. That would be enough for me.” A wistful smile formed on his wrinkled face. “Lodgok shared similar sentiments with me, before his passing... he trained under me and to lose the lad, to our own family, not even to a human...”

Borgok heaved a pained sigh.

“I see.” The Keeper nodded slowly, an unsurprising sentiment, but that still didn't explain what the goblin wanted from them. “You have my condolences. Lodgok was a dear friend to me, but your grief must surely be deeper, for he was family.”

“Thank you.” Borgok returned that slow nod with an equally solemn lowering of his head. “Losing the boy, after all the years I spent training him in the art of crafting... I suppose you could say it taught me the weariness of war.”

A wry smile formed on Borgok's lips. “Lodgok spoke well of you, before he was murdered. A human who was both strong and noble, one who looked at him as an equal rather than a lesser. A person he trusted.”

The Keeper felt a deep pang of guilt in their chest as he spoke, recalling the mournful manner in which their goblin friend had spoken his last words.

I was bringing it to you.

The regret they'd felt was beyond description, when they were forced to leave Lodgok's body behind and escape the collapsing mine, blasts of red and black slamming into the crumbling floor and walls as they fled. The knowledge that he’d died trying to get information for them haunting their steps.

“Which brings me to the topic I wished to discuss with you.” Borgok's eyes met the Keeper's as he spoke. “I am no warrior. I'm a metalsmith, and when I served in Ranrok's army, I lent him my hammer, crafted weapons and tools for him. In the wake of Ranrok's failures, I no longer wished to craft the tools of death and so I have lent my skill to another.”

To another, the Keeper's eyes narrowed.

“For many centuries, we've attempted to fight for equality. Hundreds of rebellions and decades of war, yet we have made no progress, only served to deepen wizardkind's hatred for us.” Borgok shook his head, his expression changing to one of resolve and determination. “As such, the wiser of our kind have set their sights on economic victory instead. We shall make ourselves indispensable to wizardkind, that they may come to need us, to rely upon us. Perhaps then, we will have equality.”

The Keeper's eyebrows rose.

“It is the harder path, the slower and less satisfying one. So, naturally, there are those who are impatient and angry, like Ranrok was, my foolish nephew.” Borgok shook his head once more. “I would ask that you help me quell one such rising rebellion leader. Lest he successfully start a war with the wizarding world and throw us back into the cycle of blood and death, setting us back in our economic progress.”

The Keeper hummed thoughtfully, well, that was quite an ask. “I see where you're coming from and you have my sympathy, but this is no small request. What makes you think I can even do anything about him?”

Borgok chuckled knowingly. “Your reputation precedes you, child. I know full well how powerful you are, the armour I craft are not cheap tin. Yet the rare few that made it back from an encounter with you bore such grievous injury, as though they’d worn mere parchment into battle.”

The Keeper couldn't quite suppress their grin at his words. “Fair enough, still, I would be taking on extreme risk by aiding you. Ranrok was after both my life and property, so I had no choice but to engage him. I bear no such obligation here, if you want my assistance, you will need to make it worth the danger.”

The goblin nodded. “That is reasonable, what might you desire as compensation then?”

The Keeper folded their arms, that was a good question.

Seeing their indecision, Borgok smiled. “Tell you what, as a token of goodwill, I'll gift you something to sweeten the deal. Opportunity.”

The Keeper cocked an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“This pub is more than a mere gathering place.” Borgok elaborated, gesturing towards the bar where a tall elder gentleman was wiping a glass with some cloth. “That there, is the owner of this establishment. Order a glass of Strawberry Milk with a Shot of Brandy and a Cinnamon Stick. And then ask him for Borgok's bounty request and tell him I'm open for green.”

The Keeper glanced at the bar. Bounty request. That meant that this bar was a place one could put out bounties, a prickle of excitement crept up their spine, and take them. A source of freelance work. They were already taking requests in and around Hogwarts, but the kind of work for bounty hunters would surely be more lucrative than what children and villagers had to offer.

Albeit likely more dangerous too, but still.

“Alright.” The Keeper gave him a nod and stood.

Borgok waved a hand leisurely as they left the table. “Take your time.”

Striding over to the bar, the Keeper slid onto a barstool and the bartender moved over to attend them, setting down the glass he'd been cleaning.

The aged man had neatly combed back white hair, and curious black eyes that examined them from behind a tiny pair of round spectacles as he approached. He wore a simple but elegant suit that didn't quite disguise the powerful build beneath it, with an apron around his waist and a pair of white gloves.

His voice was deep and gravelly, as he greeted them with a polite smile. “Good evening, what can I get you?”

“Strawberry Milk with a Shot of Brandy and a Cinnamon Stick.” The Keeper replied curtly, restraining their excitement with some difficulty.

“Welcome to the Phantom Mercenaries, it's been a while since we've had a new face seeking to join our guild.” The bartender hummed, his expression unreadable as he began mixing, assumably, the requested drink. By hand, to their surprise, asking casually. “I couldn’t help but notice that you weren't affected by my waitress’ Veela charm. You don’t look quite that young. I take it you're only attracted to specific people or men exclusively?”

“I fail to see how that's any of your business.” The Keeper replied evenly. So, that woman was a creature. That explained the shock when her advances failed to garner a response from them.

The bartender chuckled. “Strictly-business sort, I see. Very well then. Any preferences for bounty types?”

“Not particularly, but for starters, I'm interested in taking Borgok's bounty request. He's open for green.” The Keeper answered smoothly, and the man's hands stilled.

Frowning at them, the bartender set down his shaker. “Is that so... look, kid. Eight Hunters have already attempted that job. Two of them abandoned the bounty after sustaining severe injury and the rest simply never returned for their check-ins. It's not a job I'd recommend for a fresh-faced greenie's first run.”

The Keeper bristled. “I'll be the judge of that, thanks.”

The man shrugged, picking his shaker up and continuing his mixing. “Sure, don't take it personally kid, it's just my duty to warn you.”

The Keeper frowned in confusion at his sudden change of tone.

“Glacius.” He muttered, flashing them a grin as he placed a tall sling glass of pale pink liquid before them, wisps of cold steam wafting from its rim. “A kid who survived having a bounty on their head for a year doesn't need my protection.”

“I had a bounty on me?” The Keeper frowned down at the drink suspiciously and the elder man chuckled.

“Rookwood placed one on you. It was lifted when you killed him, of course. But the number of Hunters that died in the attempts dissuaded others rather quickly.” The bartender explained, before nodding at the drink. “Don't worry, kid. It's not what you ordered, just a strawberry milk mocktail. Wouldn’t want you doing business with a foggy head, might find yourself bartering away your soul.”

The Keeper raised an eyebrow at the man, and he chuckled again. “I guess that paranoia is how you survived.”

With that, the man took a spoon, stirred the drink, scooped some, poured it into his mouth and swallowed. “There, it's not poisoned. I look forward to working with you.”

Tipping their head in gratitude, the Keeper lifted the glass and took a sip, drinking carefully to avoid accidentally swallowing the Mandrake leaf under their tongue.

In truth, they'd never had strawberry milk before, let alone in a mocktail with other fruits, but it was surprisingly pleasant, perhaps a little sweet for their taste, the cinnamon stick was an interesting touch too. More importantly, it was nice that the man didn't seem to take offence at their suspicion, they had a feeling they would fit in well here.

“A lot of the Hunters that took the bounty for you worked with Rookwood to track you down.” The bartender continued, stooping to rummage through the shelves under the counter. “We've got a decent network, but most wouldn't turn down the far reach of the Rookwood Gang's arm.”

That reminded the Keeper of the occasions that they would come across what they'd thought were Ashwinders or Poachers travelling in pairs or alone. Perhaps those were actually bounty hunting Mercenaries all along.

“Aha, here we go.” The bartender straightened with a scroll in his hands, which he presented to the Keeper. “Here's the contract for Borgok's bounty, you're welcome to give it a read.”

Taking the scroll from him, the Keeper unrolled it and examined its contents. Upon the parchment was the image of a goblin, along with his name, Gnarlak, apparently. With the promise of a reward that was open to negotiation scribbled beneath the portrait.

The Keeper frowned, well that wasn't much to go on.

“That's why it's not recommended for greenies.” The bartender chuckled wryly. “Borgok knows very little of that goblin's whereabouts. So, you'll have to do much of the investigation yourself, on top of infiltration and assassination.”

“And you?” The Keeper asked, rolling up the parchment once more and returning it, before picking up their glass again. “Anything you can share about Gnarlak or Borgok?”

The bartender gave a thoughtful hum, idly taking up another glass and beginning to clean it with a cloth. “Borgok's one of the finest metalsmiths amongst the goblins, I heard that Gnarlak tried to recruit him, but Borgok refused, took up work for Gringotts’ instead, it seems.”

The Keeper nodded, Borgok had spoken of economic warfare, so that tracked. Hang on, if Borgok had done metalsmithing for Ranrok, that meant...

“Gnarlak’s an odd one, he was one of Ranrok's commanders and, word on the street is that he was holding a candle for the late rebellion leader. It's only been two years but he's a bit of a rising star, picked up both the remains of Ranrok's Loyalists, and the goblins who were disappointed with Ranrok.” The man paused thoughtfully for a moment.

“Honestly, it's not surprising that Borgok wants him dead, the kill and death rates for Gnarlak’s Loyalists are absurdly high. And the goblin has fast gained a reputation for being a callous commander. It's a wonder why his men seem so loyal and willing to follow him.” The bartender shrugged. “That's about all I've got. The rest you'll need to scrounge up on your own.”

Great, relying on gossip as always.

“I see, thanks.” The Keeper sighed internally and looked down, finding their glass to be almost empty. When did that happen?

“Still keen on taking the job?” The bartender asked. “Over here, most requesters aren't willing to take a greenie with no jobs under their belt. Each failed attempt costs time and makes the target more aware that they're being targeted, lowering the rate of success.”

The elder man began cleaning the shaker, again by hand. Maybe he was bored or something. “So, if you clear this one, you won't have to wait for another requester who's open for greens. But considering the difficulty of this one and your lack of experience, it might be wiser to wait.”

A smirk lifted the corner of the bartender's mouth. “After all, fighting off attackers isn't quite the same as tracking prey.”

The Keeper snorted, finished off the last of their glass, and stood. “I'm a quick learner.”

“Come back with Borgok when you've completed negotiations then.” The bartender chuckled, collecting their empty glass and began cleaning it as the Keeper returned to the table where Borgok still sat, drinking from their untouched mug of water.

“That's fifty galleons, my friend.” The Keeper quipped as they retook their seat.

“They can put it on my tab.” Borgok gave them a deep chuckle in response. “So, what do you say?”

“I'm keen.” The Keeper smirked.

“Excellent.” Borgok grinned. “The look in your eyes tells me you have found something you want from me.”

“Indeed, I have.” The Keeper nodded. “You did metalsmithing for Ranrok, and if I'm not wrong, that means you made collars and armlets of goblin silver for him.”

Borgok's bushy eyebrows rose high on his forehead. “That I did. However, I do not know how Ranrok infused them with power. He never shared that much with me.”

“That's quite alright.” The Keeper shook their head. “I'd simply like you to make those for me.”

“Exactly what use might you have for a dragon collar?” The goblin tilted his head in confusion. “Surely you don't have a dragon.”

“I don't want collars for dragons.” The Keeper grimaced, recalling the dragon that had been forced to attack their carriage on the way to Hogwarts. They would never place such a thing on the Hebridean Black’s child. “I want collars of the same design. But sized for human necks.”

Borgok's eyes widened, and he frowned deeply. “I'm not sure I want to know what you want with such a thing.”

“You don't.” The Keeper supplied. “I'll even pay you for the cost of crafting them and arrange for them to be returned to you upon my death.”

Borgok's eyebrows went right back up. “On top of fulfilling my bounty request?”

“Yes.” The Keeper nodded.

The goblin folded his arms and leaned back in his seat in thought. This was an incredibly good deal for him, he couldn’t possibly turn it down, this the Keeper was certain of. Well, from a profit standpoint at least.

“They're made from goblin silver, you do realise how costly they will be to craft?” Borgok finally asked.

“I am aware.” The Keeper nodded.

However, if they managed to sell the dragon parts, they'd be doing well financially for a while. Not to mention, Penny's work in Hogsmeade and any bounties they cleared would help lighten the load too. Assuming they managed to clear Borgok's of course.

“...how many do you think you'll want?” Borgok asked somewhat grudgingly.

“Two... for now. Along with a single armlet.” The Keeper replied thoughtfully. “And, if you're amenable, I would also come to you for other constructs I need made from goblin silver, I have need of a cauldron as well.”

Borgok's expression was pinched for several minutes, and they decided to remind him how much he needed them. Hey, he was the one talking about making the goblins indispensable to wizardkind for leverage, they were just doing the same.

“I wouldn't mind helping you to suppress aggressive goblin rebellion leaders in the future as well, of course. I care as much as you do about ensuring that Lodgok's sacrifice, in the name of peaceful protest, goes well.” They offered, and honestly, they meant it too.

Lodgok was the first person to give their life for the Keeper. They had never wanted to undo something quite as much as they had in that moment. They'd never screamed no in denial with as much desperation, as they had when his body broke against the rocks, not even when they were first forced to their knees on cold stone.

The Keeper had been utterly unprepared for how loss would feel. They, who had had next to nothing for so long. A disgusting sensation that they had been forced to feel again and again since then. One they knew would attempt to force itself into their life relentlessly for the rest of their days, but one they would rail against with equal persistence for as long as they were able.

Borgok took a deep breath in response to their words. “...very well. I will supply you with any goblin silver metalsmithing you require. On the condition that you offer your continued aid in quelling goblin rebellion leaders that may lead our peoples to war and that you will return my work upon your passing.”

“Deal. Shall we?” The Keeper gestured towards the bar counter as they stood, and Borgok nodded, following them to the bar.

“Come to an agreement then?” The bartender asked pleasantly and the two nodded as they took their seats upon the barstools.

“Now, first off.” The bartender turned to the Keeper with a small smile. “There is the matter of your name. You may use your real name or an alias for business and contracts. You can change it later, but I'd recommend that you avoid doing so since it'll make it difficult to recognise you.”

The Keeper sighed. Names, they really couldn't bother to come up with something, but they probably shouldn’t use their real one... ugh, fine. “Salamander.”

“You're in luck, that isn't currently in use by any of our mercenaries. And the last Salamander died about sixty years back without much to his name.” With a flourish, the bartender unrolled the scroll of parchment he'd presented to them before and offered Borgok a dark red quill. “Please write the details of your agreement upon the back of this contract.”

The goblin grimaced and accepted a small shot glass from the bartender as well, knocking back its contents before he began writing the terms they'd agreed upon before.

A moment later, Borgok passed the parchment and quill to the Keeper and the bartender offered them a shot glass as well, all while keeping his eyes averted from the contract.

“A simple painkiller mixed with wiggenweld potion.” The elder man explained with a faint smirk. “You'll need to write the exact words Borgok wrote, just beneath it, and then sign off at the bottom right corner. And make certain that you concur entirely with the terms, you will not be able to change them later without agreement from Borgok.”

The Keeper frowned at the glass of light green liquid for a moment, getting a feeling that they knew where this was going, considering that neither they nor Borgok had been given any ink. So, they accepted the shot and knocked it back. Giving the contract one last look over to double check, they began writing.

Immediately, they felt their back begin to itch and burn, the red ink that flowed from the quill lining up perfectly with the dull and uncomfortable sensation spreading across their skin. Yup, this quill was using their blood and carving up their back while at it.

At least the text was short, and they quickly felt the wiggenweld stitching their wounds closed as they finished writing, wondering idly how much more painful this would have been without the shot.

The moment their signature was done, their text glowed bright red and drifted up along the parchment to fuse with Borgok's, leaving their signatures separate, one on the left and the other on the right.

As the red glow slowly faded from the parchment, the bartender, who was still keeping his eyes averted from the contract, spoke. “Now then, little greenie, please roll up the parchment.”

The Keeper side-eyed him with some irritation at the nickname, but did as instructed. The elder man then tapped the scroll with his wand and seemingly lifted a second copy of the contract out of itself. Next, he pulled out two ribbons, a stick of wax, and a seal stamp, tied up both the scrolls individually, heated the wax over a candle, before sealing the two ribbons with said wax, his movements practiced and fluid.

Each time his stamp pressed down, the wax shone a bright blue before hardening, and when he lifted the stamp, a tiny burst of blue flame flickered into being over the wax seal, before disappearing in a flash of light. Its ephemeral glow reminding the Keeper of the way phantoms were depicted, as tiny blue flames floating around them called Hitodama, in a Japanese fairytale that Ominis had been reading last week.

Perhaps that was the origin of this pub's name, perhaps not.

The bartender then passed the first scroll to Borgok, and the second to the Keeper with a smile. “Congratulations, Salamander, you've just accepted your first bounty request as a Phantom's Mercenary. You are now an honorary member of my guild.”

“Honorary?” The Keeper cocked an eyebrow as they accepted the scroll, examining the blue wax seal with a flame symbol emblazoned upon it.

The bartender flashed them a sharp grin. “Of course, you'll have to actually complete at least one contract in order to be a bona-fide Mercenary.”

“Of course.” The Keeper huffed in amusement as they tucked the contract away in their satchel. “In that case, do look forward to my official membership.”

“I’m sure I will.” The bartender chuckled as he dripped more wax onto a small dish. “You, and only you, will be able to remove the seal any time you wish to view the contents of the contract, should you simply tie it back up, the wax will seal itself again.”

The bartender then stamped the seal onto the wax, producing yet another blue flame as he continued. “Upon completion, I will place a different stamp upon the wax, that will seal the terms agreed upon. If the request is abandoned or one of you is deceased, I will dissolve this wax seal and the contract will be broken along with it.”

He raised the, now hardened, blue wax token, about the size of a chocolate frog, and rotated it for them to see. On one side was an imprint of Borgok's face and on the other, the Keeper's. “You, however, will not be able to dissolve the contract, even should you shred the parchment to dust or burn it.”

The bartender stooped to deposit the wax token somewhere behind the counter. “You'll also need to check-in with me at least once a month, elsewise I shall assume that you have abandoned the request or have perished. And it's considered good practice to provide me with updates weekly that I can pass on to the requester or that you update them yourself.”

The Keeper nodded. “I'll try, but I'm still in Hogwarts, so I'll only be able to visit on Saturday nights at best.”

The bartender shot them an amused look and they rolled their eyes in response.

“Opening hours are six in the evening till six in the morning, an owl addressed to Alasdair, Phantom's Flask, will find me easily enough.” At his words, the Keeper belatedly realised that they hadn't gotten the bartender's name till now.

“Alright, thanks.” The Keeper nodded again, catching movement out of the corner of their eye, near the staircase landing, and soon spotted Ominis striding leisurely down the stairs, pausing to speak with the doorman. “How much for the drink?

“It's your first drink, so it's on the house.” Alasdair waved a hand lazily. “Ask for the house special in the future, if you're here for Merc business.”

“Got it, and how much for the information?” The corner of the Keeper’s mouth lifted and so too did the elder man's.

“Also on the house, for my Mercenaries at least.” Alasdair chuckled. “It benefits me too if my guildmembers have a reputation for success. So, I only charge Mercs from other guilds.”

A smirk spread across the bartender's face, the lens of his spectacles catching the light as he spoke. “Besides, you've killed a lot of my Hunters. I have high hopes that your membership will cover my losses.”

The Keeper chuckled wryly, keeping an ear out for the sound of Ominis leaving the pub. “In that case, I'd appreciate it if you could help me get in touch with the two that returned from attempting to clear Borgok's bounty request.”

Alasdair hummed thoughtfully. “One of them should be dropping by next Saturday night to give me an update on their current bounty. If you come again, I can introduce you, but anything you want from them, will be up to you to wrangle.”

“Alright, thanks.” The Keeper nodded, distantly hearing the doors of the pub open for Ominis to leave. “I'll be back next week then.”

“Happy hunting.” The bartender waved his cloth at them casually.

“I look forward to your results.” Borgok flashed them a faint smile.

The Keeper gave the goblin a parting nod as well, before lifting their hood and leaving the pub behind Ominis.

“You should have waited, and conferred with us, before joining some mercenary guild and signing a blood contract!” Ominis pinched the bridge of his nose.

The Keeper sighed. “I didn't see any reason to wait, it's an incredible opportunity and this is exactly the type of work I enjoy. I would have insisted on taking the job anyway even if I'd waited to tell you two about it.”

Ominis didn't look too pleased with that statement and the Keeper knew that he was probably more hurt than anything else.

“Ominis, darling, I love you deeply, but this is what I want to do. You wouldn't like it if I told you what to do with your life, would you?” The Keeper reasoned, reaching across the Feldcroft table, that they and their partners were seated around, to touch Ominis’ hand.

“But it's dangerous!” Ominis protested, withdrawing his hand from their reach. “And these are dangerous people you're choosing to work with.”

“Well, so are some of the requests I'm already taking.” The Keeper chuckled. “If anything, I think it's better to have a network and people I can look to for assistance. To work in a place that has rules and security.”

“That bartender does sound like a nice chap.” Sebastian agreed. “Offering to help you and all.”

“My entire life has been fraught with danger, I'd probably feel uncomfortable if that changed.” The Keeper flashed a wry smile. “I grew up in these types of places, with these types of people. If anything, it feels more natural and comfortable than Hogwarts.”

Ominis sighed and folded his arms. “I suppose I just can't imagine why you would want to work in that sort of environment. To put yourself in danger when you know I'll worry.”

“We've talked about this before, haven't we? With Sebastian wanting to be a Curse Breaker.” Reaching out to take Ominis’ hands and move them from their folded position, the Keeper placed a kiss against his knuckles. “We are partners, that means we work together and support each other as equals. Not control each other, or force each other to do what we want. I'm sure you don't want to be part of such a family again.”

Ominis grimaced, thinking clearly of his parents’ ‘traditions’.

“I'll take your feelings and advice into consideration when I act, and bend as much as I can, but if we let ourselves think we can forcefully change each other, well...” The Keeper gave him a faint smile. “You'll just have to remember that I wouldn't needlessly hurt you and try to respect my decisions, even if you don't understand them. As I would for you.”

“...I remember.” With a sigh, Ominis shook his head. “Alright, let's hear your reasons then, what do you even need goblin silver for?”

The Keeper smiled, he would get there, eventually. “As the only material that can contain energy extracted with my Ancient Magic, we will need someone who is willing to craft tools for us from goblin silver.”

“Like a cauldron.” Sebastian volunteered.

“And storage for the energies.” The Keeper continued, giving him a nod. “I also noticed that Ranrok's Loyalists seemed to be able to use Emotional Pain energy through the armlets they wore. It'd be extremely useful if I can store energy in those rather than always using cumbersome jars to take a hit.”

Sebastian hummed thoughtfully. “I wonder if we could make other objects that can release stored energies.”

“Probably.” The Keeper nodded. “I was thinking of investigating the design of the tools he sells us, I doubt I could come close to crafting something with as much skill as he, but I had an idea for a storage system that would require a lot of goblin silver.”

“Yeah yeah, sounds great.” Sebastian waved a dismissive hand, before grinning. “But imagine this...”

He paused, spreading his hands dramatically. “A dagger laced with Fear.”

Ominis sighed and the Keeper gave a fond chuckle.

“Oh, come on, you can't pretend that doesn't sound absolutely wild.” Sebastian implored, gesturing animatedly. “A nightmare inducing blade, a poisoned dagger that isn't fatal! But also, can't be undone with a simple finite by another enemy. Unlike petrificus totalus.”

Ominis blinked for a bit, before humming thoughtfully. “...I suppose I don't mind the idea of giving them a more certain means to disarm without killing.”

“See?” Sebastian beamed at Ominis, shooting the Keeper a quick wink.

Ominis cocked an eyebrow in response and there was a moment of bewildered silence, before realisation struck him and Sebastian rolled his eyes. “You know what I meant.”

A small, amused smile lifted the corner of Ominis lips, and he sighed. “Yes well, I guess I can understand the appeal.”

The Keeper was still debating whether to mention the collars or not, when Ominis folded his arms. “Anything else you'd like to mention?”

They blinked at him in surprise and Ominis huffed with some impatience. “You haven't moved or made a whit of sound for a while. You're only so still before you tell me something potentially upsetting. Out with it then.”

The Keeper hesitated for a moment but decided to be honest. “Dragons are untameable. Yet Ranrok managed to set a dragon upon Fig and I in fifth-year. I believe that it was the collar, laced with Pain, and placed around its neck that allowed him to control it.”

Both boys frowned and Sebastian hesitantly asked. “You're not-”

“Of course not.” The Keeper quickly interrupted. “I would never collar our dragon chick or do anything so barbaric, its mother gave it to us that it may be free, and that is my intention as well.”

Their partners visibly sagged in relief and the Keeper was mildly offended that the two would even think them capable of such a thing.

“I want to investigate how the collar functions and if it can control a dragon, surely it would work easily on humans.” The Keeper explained and Ominis’ eyes widened.

Sebastian, as always, caught on immediately. “For our guests, right? That makes sense, if we can control them using the collars, it'd be another means of preventing escape.”

“And we could even utilise the collars in our experiments to inject small amounts of energies over time, if I can figure out how to operate them.” The Keeper agreed.

“That's an if.” Ominis countered.

“Yes, I might not figure it out, but knowledge is power, and I'd like to understand my abilities and perhaps, if it's possible to restore an aura after it's been torn.” The Keeper explained. “All part of ensuring that this process is as well understood as possible, before I potentially damage Anne.”

Ominis almost looked surprised at the reminder, and the Keeper wondered how long it'd been since he'd thought of her, as a shade of guilt flickered across his face.

“I suppose that makes sense. I still don't like it, but I'm sorry for getting worked up so quickly, I just...” Ominis trailed off with a sigh.

“It's quite alright. If anything, that panicked state is more painful for you than us.” The Keeper wore a sympathetic smile as they lightly caressed his cheek.

“That's right, you don’t need to worry about us. You get upset because you care. And we know that. And appreciate it.” Sebastian added.

Ominis hesitated for a moment, like he was trying to figure something out, before he shook his head and gave the two a soft smile. “Thank you. For understanding.”

“Of course, we love you.” The Keeper chuckled. “Now, let's not let this distract from your success in acquiring the needed Re'em blood earlier tonight.”

“Oh, yes, you have to tell us all about it!” Sebastian nodded eagerly.

“There's really not much to tell, I'm afraid.” Ominis chuckled. “The queue was longer than I expected, but considering that the poacher vendor would host one customer at a time, and the vendor is only in business once a week, I shouldn't have been surprised.”

“I imagine privacy is an issue for patrons of such a store.” Sebastian snickered.

“Indeed, I managed to trade the two gallons of dragon's blood that I brought with me for four pints of Re'em blood.” Ominis explained. “The vendor said that he would trade a gallon of Re'em blood for a pair of dragon kidneys next week, he's got a buyer looking to buy as many of them as possible.”

“Creepy.” The Keeper commented.

“No less than us asking for the same with Re'em blood.” Ominis chuckled with a wry smile.

“Heh, can't argue with that one.” Sebastian laughed along sheepishly.

“Regardless, he probably knows we've got a dragon chick and are selling its parent's parts.” The Keeper murmured. “It can't be helped, for someone well versed in Poaching, but at least we needn’t fear the vendor tattling on us or anything.”

“Yes well, he did seem mildly amused, perhaps he imagined me to be a pampered noble who'd demanded a dragon for a birthday gift.” Ominis rolled his eyes.

“Hey, at least the getup worked.” Sebastian dragged his chair across the carpet, making a ghastly sound, just to bump shoulders with Ominis and murmur into his ear. “Though, while I think you looked quite dashing in it, I much prefer you out of it.”

Immediately, Ominis’ cheeks reddened, and he covered his face with one hand, while planting the other into Sebastian's, shoving the brunet an arm's length away. “Don't just-”

The Keeper laughed lightly as Sebastian's muffled complaints and Ominis’ flustered bluster filled the air. Perfect, everything was going according to plan. Now, all they needed was to buy some mead, mix the milk substitute, and then wait for the egg to actually hatch next weekend.

If it hatched at all.

Fuck.

The wait was going to be absolutely unbearable.

“Oh, I think I need to use the loo for a bit.” Ominis grimaced, his words causing the Keeper and Sebastian to halt in their tracks, pausing in the otherwise empty hallway outside the Slytherin common room, on their way to breakfast in the great hall.

“Again?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow.

Ominis huffed in annoyance and some embarrassment. “Yes well, my stomach seems to be a tad upset at the moment.”

“We can wait for you.” The Keeper offered, shoving Sebastian lightly in the arm. Perhaps Ominis’ stomach-ache was because he was anxious about the egg’s hatching too.

“No, it's fine, you two go on ahead. I'll catch up.” Ominis shook his head and waved them on as he pushed open the door to the boys’ wash closets.

“Take your time!” Sebastian called after him and the Keeper gave him a pointed look. “What? I'm allowed to ask questions, aren't I? It’s barely been fifteen minutes since he last went.”

The Keeper shook their head with a helpless smile, continuing on towards the great hall. “Heaven knows why he even likes a crass buffoon like you.”

Sebastian grinned roguishly as he followed with a swagger. “It's the boorish charm I bet, posh princelings like a little ruffian between the sheets.”

“Ah yes, that must be it.” The Keeper snorted, shaking their head in amusement. “Wonder what my pull is.”

“Your Slytherin charm, no doubt.” Sebastian snickered. “Rationalising things for him so he can do what he wants guilt-free.”

“Heh, sounds about right.” The Keeper chuckled, and in the calm silence that followed, their mind returned to the state of just pure stress it'd been stuck in before the interruption.

Today was the day they'd estimated, when the dragon egg would hatch, and they were anxious to head to Dìon to wait on standby. Tynx was on orders to owl immediately if the egg showed signs of hatching early, and so far, there hadn't been a letter saying that ‘the chick is arriving’.

Hopefully it would hatch before they had to leave for Natty's Saturday evening lesson and then to visit the Phantom's Flask tonight. Or perhaps tomorrow, during the day, before they had to return to Hogwarts. They wanted to be there when the eg-

“Woah!” Sebastian exclaimed as the Keeper's right foot landed on something that was decidedly not Floor and slid forward.

Quickly, he grabbed their arm to steady them before whatever they'd stepped on made them do an unseemly split in the middle of the empty hallway. Clinging to his supporting arm, the Keeper glared down at the offending object, finding it to be a small journal or notebook.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asked with a faint smile.

“Yes. No thanks to this.” The Keeper replied dryly, removing their foot from the small book and bending down to collect it. “Now, who could have dropped this?”

“Looks like a diary perhaps, maybe there's a name in it?” Sebastian suggested, peering curiously at the journal over their shoulder.

“Let's see...” As they opened the book to see if he was correct, its well flattened spine naturally flipped to what seemed to be the latest entry, and the Keeper distantly heard hurried footsteps coming from just ahead of them.

Dear diary,

Wonderful news! Father finally agreed to try speaking with the head of the Gaun-

The volume of the footsteps intensified, but before the Keeper could even lift their head, the small book was abruptly yanked from their grasp.

“That's mine!” They were met with the mildly familiar voice and equally familiar face of a younger Slytherin girl, now clutching the book protectively to her chest and glaring angrily at them. “What do you think you're doing with my diary!?”

The Keeper raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the girl. “Well, your diary almost gave me a nasty fall, might want to take better care of your belongings.”

The girl jabbed an accusatory finger in their face. “You were caught thumbing through my personal property, and you dare claim that you didn't steal it!?”

The Keeper glared at the bright magenta tipped finger in their face. Ah, right, Jolene. The cowardly girl who'd disappointed Ominis. “Tread carefully, that is a bold accusation.”

The thinly veiled threat in their voice seemed to get through to her, and Jolene shrunk back, biting her lip and retracting her hand to clutch at her diary.

“You'll see, you're not the only ones who can get close to Ominis anymore, just because you're both orphans!” With that, the redhead fled in the direction of the great hall.

Sebastian stared at her retreating figure with an incredulous expression on his face. “Excuse me? Did she just imply that we're only able to be close to Ominis because we don't have parents? What in Merlin's name...”

The Keeper shook their head exasperatedly. “Hell if I know, girl sounds right barmy.”

A moment of irritated silence passed.

“Should we...?” Sebastian asked, not needing to say much for them to know what he was asking.

“I don't see much reason to, he doesn't need further disappointment.” The Keeper shook their head and Sebastian nodded. “He thinks well of her, let him dream.”

“Good point, I wouldn’t even know how to start explaining the ridiculousness that just occurred.” He sighed. “Not sure what to make of her statement either.”

“I imagine she's jealous? Maybe Ominis’ impression that she'd been intimidated into silence by her parents held water after all.” The Keeper shrugged. “Don't know why she assumes we wouldn't still be close to Ominis even if we had disapproving parents like hers.”

“Not our problem she doesn't have a spine.” Sebastian snorted.

“And I don't think it needs be his problem either.” The Keeper pointed out.

“Agreed.” Sebastian nodded firmly.

“Besides, he's clearly worried enough about the chick.” The Keeper sighed, like themselves. “We don't need to stress him further.”

Sebastian's eyes widened. “Ohhhh, that's why he had to use the loo!”

The Keeper stared at him for a moment, he hadn't realised? “Yes?”

Sebastian stared blankly at them for another moment, before dropping his fist into his other palm. “And that's why you didn't notice the book on the floor, you're stressed about it too!”

The Keeper paused, huh, that was unexpected. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

They sighed, and Sebastian's eyes softened.

Glancing around, he ascertained that the hall was empty once more, before stepping closer and placing a warm hand atop the Keeper's head. “Hey, it'll be alright, the chick's going to hatch just fine, and then we'll be busy as hell for the next two years.”

The Keeper's eyes slipped shut, allowing him to comfort them for a moment, before smiling and opening their eyes again. “Of course we are, but I'm still going to worry about it, and you can't stop me.”

“I guess it wouldn't be you if you weren't overplanning everything.” Sebastian shook his head with a helpless grin as he retrieved his hand.

“Well, I’d be less worried if Ominis could see into the egg.” The Keeper sighed, of course the bloody thing would have magic that interfered with his wand sight.

“I thought I said the two of you didn't need to wait for me.” Ominis voice came from behind them and the two turned to see him approaching at a leisurely pace.

“Feeling better?” Sebastian asked, placing a hand on their blind partner's back and giving it a gentle rub.

“Mostly.” Ominis sighed. “Not sure I've got much of an appetite for breakfast to be honest.”

The Keeper grimaced. “Yeah, me neither.”

Sebastian was about to add his two cents, when a very harried looking owl shot through the air and dropped a letter onto his head. “Ack!”

“Wait, is that-” The Keeper stooped to pick the letter off the floor while Sebastian glared at the dumb bird.

Inside the envelope was a single phrase. ‘The chick is arriving.’

“Guys, we've got to get to Dìon. It's hatching!” The Keeper immediately took off in the direction of the nearest floo, they'd need to fly to Dìon after flooing, so they didn't have much time.

“Now!?” Ominis exclaimed. “Oh, Merlin.”

“Come on!” Sebastian grabbed Ominis hand with a broad grin and dragged him along.

The moment the Keeper's feet touched the floor, they were already running towards the kitchens’ side entrance, quickly followed by the two boys, while Sepulchria found a nice spot to lie down for a rest after the breakneck pace they’d put her through.

Darting through the empty frame, they really needed to get the doors done, the Keeper was met with the heart-stopping sight of the purple egg, resting on a large stack of towels in the middle of the kitchen island counter.

With a long crack along its surface.

“Master! Eggy is hatching!” Tibsy squealed excitedly from her spot beside the counter, the other two elves standing beside her as well.

They barely heard her, taking a few steps forward to stand before it, while Tynx pulled Tibsy away so that the two boys could stand around the counter with the Keeper.

“Is it?” Ominis murmured, voice hushed with nerves.

“There's- there's a crack.” The Keeper's voice was strained, their breath shallow and anxious.

Good God if the baby wasn't actually alive in there, they were going to- Well, they weren't sure, but it wouldn't be pretty.

The egg shook and another crack formed on its surface.

“Oh!” Ominis jolted and his partners gave him a quizzical glance. “Sorry, I heard-”

Another hairline crack and a soft squeak came from the egg.

The egg shook and began to tip onto its side, and the Keeper immediately reached out to stabilise it, but Sebastian caught their hand, stopping them with a gentle reminder. “It's okay, let it figure its way out, the cloth'll keep it from getting injured.”

The Keeper took a deep breath, right. The book had said that the dragon needed to get out on its own or it wouldn't grow properly.

The egg landed on its side, nestled safely on the fluffy towels, and there was a thump from the inside, before another squeak.

“What if it's stuck?” Ominis asked worriedly.

“Oh, no no, I think it's got it.” Sebastian pointed at the egg. “On this side.”

The Keeper took a step around to peer at the egg from beside Sebastian, spotting a piece of the egg that had dislodged from the rest of the shell. There was another thump and the piece of shell dropped from the egg, revealing a scrawny black scaled leg, coated in a thin film of slime.

The leg then disappeared from sight, and they could hear the sound of the baby shifting inside, before a little snout emerged, tiny eyes blinking drowsily as its small jaws opened to release a high-pitched squeak.

Relief hit the Keeper like a boulder and a breathless laugh escaped them, it was alive.

Little innocent purple eyes examined them curiously from under the shell's shade and the Keeper reached a hand towards it slowly.

“Hey there...” The Keeper murmured softly, filled with wonder when the small creature didn't recoil in fear, but poked its snout out further, taking a curious sniff of their fingertips. “Want to come out?”

As they withdrew their hand in encouragement, the little dragon stretched its neck out to follow their fingers, only to be impeded by the remaining shell. The small creature seemed to remember what it'd been doing part way and began to push at the remaining shell once again, cracking more pieces off in its bid for freedom.

“It's so small.” Ominis’ voice was the gentlest they'd ever heard it, which was saying something.

“Yeah...” The Keeper agreed with a breathless chuckle, brushing aside some of the shell so that the dragon could have an easier time wiggling free.

The small creature squeaked as it tumbled from the shell's confines, flapping its tiny wings in an effort to right itself, struggling to hold its disproportionately larger head up on long spindly thin legs.

“There you go.” The Keeper beamed proudly, feeling oddly pleased at its meagre achievement.

Once it had its feet under it, the baby dragon lifted its head, staring with wide eyes at the world now revealed to it from beyond the confines of its shell. Its bright purple gaze ran over the kitchen walls, the three humans, and the three elves. Eventually settling on Sebastian, who had been oddly quiet since the dragon hatched, and to everyone's surprise, the little thing began to wobble across the counter.

Towards him.

“Um.” Sebastian stood stiff, eyeing it warily as it approached him. “Guys-”

The dragon didn't seem quite as uncertain as Sebastian was and continued its determined march towards him.

“Hey-” Sebastian tugged on the Keeper's sleeve. “Why's it coming at me-”

They eyed him with amusement, the boy looked like he was about to panic, especially since the dragon didn't seem to realise that it was reaching the edge of the counter.

Right as it did so, Sebastian quickly scooped the little dragon into his arms before it could fall, as the Keeper had known he would.

He stared down at the tiny dragon in his arms with wide eyes and the baby released a few surprised squeaks. Shifting itself into a more comfortable position, the dragon settled down in his arms contentedly, looking snug and cozy as it nuzzled against his chest.

“I think it likes you.” Ominis giggled.

“Not funny, what do I do-” Sebastian hissed and to his alarm, the baby dragon opened its mouth and began squealing loudly, revealing a maw devoid of teeth.

The Keeper glanced towards Tynx. “Do you have the milk substitute ready?”

“Yes, Master.” Tynx nodded, shuffling forward to offer them a bottle that Poppy had helped them fit with a rubber teat for the dragon beforehand, its glass insides filled with a thick golden-brown liquid.

Taking the bottle, they approached Sebastian. “Hold still and I'll feed it.”

Sebastian gave a shaky nod, and the Keeper held the bottle out to the dragon, tilting it so that a few drops dripped into the dragon's open mouth, before lowering it so that the dragon could follow the scent of food to the bottle.

“Smart little one.” The Keeper chuckled when the baby dragon latched onto the rubber teat and began to drink.

“Of course it is, it's ours.” Ominis waved a flippant hand, before turning his attention to the slab of stone they'd prepared in advance for the dragon as a bed, inspecting its temperature.

The Keeper shot him an amused look, before glancing towards the elves. “Tynx, collect the eggshell pieces and place them with the dragon parts. Tibsy, get some of the towels we prepared for its nest. Penny, bring us a towel damp with warm water.”

The three elves quickly went about following their instructions while the Keeper fed the dragon. When she returned, Ominis helped Tibsy to set up the nest they'd prepared for the dragon, before collecting the wet towel from Penny as the little creature finished its bottle.

The baby crooned softly as the Keeper withdrew the empty bottle and Ominis took their place to towel the dragon clean of the egg's fluids.

“No no, little one, no biting...” Ominis chuckled as the small dragon attempted to gnaw on his fingers with its soft gums, removing and running them along its jaw instead, to keep it distracted while he cleaned it.

“We'll have to feed it again in an hour, let's see if it wants to sleep till then.” The Keeper smiled fondly at the endearing sight.

They'd blocked off all the floor heating pipes except the one closest to the wall, resulting in the wood stove's smoke only travelling under one strip of the first floor, heating it before exiting through the chimney. The upper floors’ heating pipes were also blocked off to concentrate all the heat into that one strip, which they'd placed a large and flat heat-retentive slate stone over.

With a nod, Sebastian carefully set the drowsy dragon down on the towels that covered the slate, creating a warm and cosy nest for its occupant. The small creature pawed at the fluffy towels for a bit, wobbling about to investigate the warm spot, before deciding it was good enough and lay down to sleep.

As it did so, Sebastian examined his slime covered hands and clothing. “Ugh, gross.”

“Don't fuss, we can clean it.” Ominis flapped a hand at him dismissively.

“We need a name for the little one too.” The Keeper murmured thoughtfully.

Before they could say anything more however, the dragon abruptly sneezed in a burst of sparks that danced across the towels, and then sat frozen in place, seemingly startled by its own sneeze.

“Good thing I enhanced that cloth to be fire resistant.” The Keeper chuckled.

Almost as if in reaction to the Keeper's laughter, the dragon squeaked twice, attempted to cover its head with its overly small wings, before giving up and clawing the towels over its head instead, burrowing under the topmost layer of cloth.

“Aww, it's shy.” Ominis cooed in delight, clearly quite charmed by the little creature's mannerisms.

“Not shy enough to clean up after itself.” Sebastian grumbled.

Ominis shook his head. “It's a baby, Sebastian.”

The Keeper hummed lightly. “How about we call it Shy then?”

“Really?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow at them incredulously.

“Well.” Ominis gave a bemused cough. “It is shy.”

“Salazar save me- Look, we must have some standards, let's at least give it some deeper meaning.” Sebastian folded his arms in thought for a long silent moment, before his face lit up and he raised a hand. “How about Shai, that's Hebrew for Gift.”

The Keeper and Ominis blinked in surprise. When did he learn Hebrew of all things?

“I think that's quite lovely, it speaks to the responsibility we were bestowed and sounds like the little one's personality.” Ominis’ approving smile then took on a more coquettish tinge, tone light with exaggerated surprise. “My, Sebastian, how thoughtful of you.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Yes, I do think. Sometimes.”

“Sometimes.” The Keeper grinned fondly and was startled when a soft, low rumbling sound came from the little lump under the towels.

Ominis giggled again. “How precious, it seems to have fallen asleep.”

“I suppose we should leave Shai to rest...” The Keeper grimaced, finding themselves quite loath to leave the little one's side, when a familiar gurgle came from Sebastian's stomach and his cheeks coloured.

“Begging your pardons, but have Master and partners eaten breakfast yet?” Tynx asked tentatively.

“Not yet, we received your owl before that.” The Keeper answered, giving Sebastian a consoling pat on the shoulder.

“Then maybe Masters would like some food for eatings?” Tibsy asked eagerly.

The Keeper glanced back towards the dragon sleeping under the towels.

Seeing that, Penny spoke up. “Penny and others could bring food to Masters, then Masters can eat near little Shai.”

Ominis smiled. “That sounds like a wonderful idea, we can stand about the island counter for breakfast.”

With a nod, the Keeper returned their gaze to the elves. “Good thinking. Thank you, Penny, we'd appreciate something easy to eat while standing.”

The three house elves bowed and popped away in a heartbeat, while the three lovers seated themselves on the floor beside the sleeping dragon.

“That reminds me, how come you know Hebrew?” The Keeper asked Sebastian curiously, keeping their voice hushed and low.

Sebastian's face lit up, seeming quite happy to share. “Remember all the research I did into creating our clay Gōlems? Well, the ritual is Jewish and naturally, the book from the Restricted Section included several others within its pages, most were in Hebrew, and Shai was one of the words I picked up.”

The Keeper nodded, it'd been a simple ritual. They'd inscribed the word Emét, which meant Life, onto the surface of a clay statue and placed a paper with a shem spell written on it into its mouth, before chanting ‘Shem Hamephorash’, till the Gōlem was animated. The means of deactivating the Gōlem was quite elegant as well, as it merely required that the letter E in Emét be damaged or removed in some way, turning the word into Mét, which meant Death.

They wondered if the ease of the ritual was the reason it was even in the Restricted Section, or perhaps if another spell or ritual within the tome was to blame for its categorisation.

Though, the Jewish Gōlems hadn't been designed for battle and even after augmenting them with Ancient Magic, their combat capabilities hadn't been anywhere near as impressive as the Elder Keepers’ Ancient Magic Guardians. They really looked forward to learning how to make their own.

“It's honestly quite amazing how much you manage to keep up there.” The Keeper tapped the side of Sebastian's temple with a teasing smile. “No wonder you suck at everything else.”

“Why than- Hang on.” Sebastian paused, his proud grin quickly morphing into offended indignation.

Ominis struggled to contain his laughter, covering his mouth and leaning against the Keeper's side, shaking with muffled mirth while they grinned unapologetically at the brunet.

“Ugh.” Sebastian huffed, folding his arms and turning his head away. “All that effort and this is the thanks I get.”

The Keeper chuckled softly, reaching across to wrap their fist in his sticky robes. “No darling, this is the thanks you get.”

They pulled him close and pressed their lips against his, feeling him startle, before leaning closer, pushing them back against Ominis, who smiled, lacing his fingers with Sebastian's where they were braced against the floor for balance.

Meanwhile...

“Oh- that's!” Penny flushed and spun around to take her eyes off the three teenage humans entangled together on the floor.

Tibsy giggled beside her as she peered around the corner of the empty door frame and into the kitchens. “Penny should get used to seeing Masters being touchys! The Masters be doing it a lot and Tibsy is thinking them cute!”

 “I- I see!” Penny took a deep breath to calm her embarrassment. “But what should we do? Do we interrupt Masters?”

Tynx sighed, teenagers, the young mistress had been much alike when she got older, before she sold him to Gringotts at his urging. She’d needed the money after her father's... untimely death, and Tynx was the most valuable thing she'd inherited. While he did miss her dearly, he was ever so grateful that she'd given him the chance to be bought by the Keeper.

“Let's just leave the plates on the island counter, the Masters will notice when they smell the food.” Tynx suggested, snapping his fingers and levitating the tray he was carrying, sending it soaring through the air towards the counter along with another bottle of dragon milk substitute.

Following his example, Tibsy and Penny did the same with their trays.

“Tibsy is looking forwards to caring for little baby Shai, Tibsy is hoping that shy Shai likes Tibsy.” The elf squealed excitedly.

Penny nodded. “Master was saying they'll teach us to feed the baby dragon, Penny is hoping Shai doesn't bite.”

“Probably not till it grows some teeth...” Tynx sighed, pressing his fingers to his forehead, he certainly wasn't looking forward to the increased workload. With the Masters in school, the elves would have to take care of the dragon during the weekdays. On top of their existing duties.

He knew well how difficult raising babies was, and Master's lady friend had said that Hebridean Black dragons were one of the most clever of dragon breeds. Which meant it would probably be more difficult to raise.

Heaving another sigh, Tynx looked at the two eager elves.

Well, at least they were having fun.

Notes:

Many thanks to my Patreon, cheeky_idler, for naming Shai as a Paid member with voting & suggestion power! ;)

Also, Sebastian's having dad panic haha-

The stuff about Gōlems is genuine real-world Jewish folklore by the way, I made an entire riddle-based dungeon for my DnD group around that actually. A shem is actually a paper with one of the names of God on it, but JK doesn't include divinities in the series, so I didn't write that in xP

Lodgok's death was actually the first time that MC was so emotional in the game, and when they talk to Fig about it later, I felt that the devs really wanted us to feel how upset MC was about that, and I really liked Lodgok, so xP

One of my favourite things to do in fanfiction writing, is to fill in the gaps, to pontificate on how the story went from point A to point B, to close and explain away loopholes.

A question that has bothered me since I was a kid was “why did the goblins stop having rebellions during Harry Potter's era?” Clearly, the wizards treat the goblins no better, yet all the rebellions Harry learnt about were from centuries before. I know the easy answer is that JK didn't want to make her story better and address systemic growth, but bear with me.

Another was “how does a marginalised race become so ‘essential’ to wizardkind yet still not have equality?” Well, I now know that's because racism is stupid and contradictory, and the inspiration for the goblins was potentially steeped in antisemitic conspiracy theories in JK's head.

But if on the assumption that these are unchangeable facts, no matter how unrealistic, how would things need to play out to arrive at the state of Harry Potter in 1996?

I decided to answer both at the same time.

Now, we all know that Borgok's ideal is not a solution for racism. Racists will disparage even when faced with evidence that their sense of supremacy is unfounded and are in fact more incensed when they need their victims, and the events in this fic are my answer to why, in 1996, goblins are still treated like shite but there aren't any ongoing rebellions.

I don't think a solution for racism is something that I could fit into twelve books, let alone a paragraph, but I think that's because there isn't a simple answer. There's awareness, exposure, interaction, and many possible paths but it's within no singular person's sole capability to achieve. It's a constant shared effort by everyone that'll get us closer to equality.

In other news, I think it goes without saying, but one should never enter a romantic relationship thinking “I can fix my partner”. Even things like addiction can't be forced out of a person, the individual has to want to change for themselves. If they don't want to change, you either suck it up or leave.

Of course, if the person does want to change, like Ominis’ desire to be less reactive, you should definitely support them and not expect them to do it on their own strength, but them wanting to change is the make or break of the success of change.

I also had to deal with the fact that in game, it's quite clear that petrificus totalus “kills” the enemies, but we all know that the spell doesn't kill, so I'm going with the idea that the Keeper casts petrificus totalus and then kills the enemies while they're petrified, as a precaution in case during the fight, the spell wears off or someone frees them from the spell.

I also decided to make the baby dragon toothless- haha, so that I don't have to write the baby biting someone, like JK did with her Norwegian Ridgeback baby. Let's just say different breeds are different at birth. Look I just want a cute sweet baby scene alright? x'D

Gezuz these are some long notes-

Here's a funny, my partner is so dense it took them three reads of the chapter to realise that Sebastian was saying he preferred seeing Ominis naked and not just in casual wear. That's the dummy who missed me pursuing them for 3 damn years until I finally gave up and confessed point-blank. ʱªʱªʱª(ᕑᗢूᓫ∗)

This is why I advocate direct and open communication, I could have saved myself a lot of time and made this year our 12th year anniversary rather than 10th lol- σ(*´∀｀*)

Man, again, my notes are too long for indents-

[adamwatchesmovies]

The Karate Kid Part III (1989)

While I didn't enjoy this film, that doesn't mean you won't. No matter what I say, the people involved in this project did it: they actually made a movie. That's something to be applauded. With that established...

The strength of the Karate Kid series lies in its emotional power. You could probably predict how the first one might end but you were so invested in the relationship between Daniel and Mr. Miyagi (Ralph Macchio and Noriyuki “Pat” Morita) that you forgot about all the times you’d seen the story before. Everything that rang true, that was effective in the first film (and the sequel to a certain extent) is present in this third chapter… but none of it works. Cartoonish villains, characters who’ve regressed and a repetitive plot make The Karate Kid Part III feel like a cash grab and nothing else.

Having lost his students and dojo, John Kreese (Martin Kove) visits his best friend, Terry Silver Thomas (Ian Griffith) to tell him he’s giving up on Cobra Kai. Instead, of moving on, however, he and Terry decide to partake in an elaborate revenge scheme. Posing as a new friend and teacher for Daniel, Terry will infiltrate his life so he can tear the boy and his beloved teacher apart.

I’m not sure if Ian Griffith is the best or the worst thing about this movie. One of his first scenes has him chomping on a gargantuan cigar in a hot tub, giving notes to his secretary about how he’s going to hide all of these mega-pollutants from the authorities. Combined with his ponytail, eagerness to jump on the revenge bandwagon and easily-revealed colours, you expect him to be facing off against Captain Planet, not some teenager and an old man trying to make a living selling bonsai trees. He’s ten times as maniacal as any of the bad guys we’ve seen in this series and less subtle than Emperor Palpatine.

On his own, Terry might’ve made the film unintentionally hilarious if it weren’t for Daniel. You’d think that by now the boy would understand a thing or two about Miyagi, that he’d respect him. No. At every instance, Daniel questions Miyagi’s tried-and-true methods, goes against his wishes or tries to do something sneaky behind his back. What’s infuriating is that you know exactly how it will play out. The movie holds no surprises whatsoever. In fact, it choreographs itself in ways that would be clever if they weren’t so transparent. For example, the film begins - once again - by informing us that the relationship we spent the previous movie developing has dissolved. Kumiko is briefly mentioned but never appears. She’s been replaced by Jessica Andrews (Robyn Lively) who quickly informs Daniel that she’ll be moving away in two months. At least the screenplay has learned SOMETHING from these movies. It establishes a way for her not to appear in any subsequent sequels!

Writer Robert Mark Kamen (who didn’t like this premise but whose alternative was even worse) does the bare minimum and director John G. Avildsen does not attempt to turn this pile of straw into gold. The villain’s plan involves sending his cronies to commit vandalism, theft, and attempted murder but the police are briefly mentioned once and then never again. This plot isn’t concerned with what would actually happen. It’s just going through the motions so we can get to the tournament at the end of the movie and watch Daniel beat the odds AGAIN. The Karate Kid Part III isn’t merely a disappointment, it’s a waste of time. (March 10, 2022)