#but if they’ve assumed i’m too incompetent and pretty to do it…. fuck it. who am i to disabuse them of that notion

[fingertipsmp3]

Sometimes it really isn’t about what patriarchy does to you, it’s about what it can do FOR you

[salt-volk]

since I’ve seen a few folks here mention it, I figured I might as well toss my two cents into this ring. (bonus: I don’t have to mince words quite as much here, haha.)

I don’t think the custom raffle was a scam. I don’t think that’s a wise or logical conclusion to jump to, given what we know. It just doesn’t make sense for the devs to shoot themselves in the foot so blatantly, for so little return.

1) making more customs does not negatively impact DV’s bottom line; in fact, it bolsters it.

If making customs cost anji more than just time, I’m sure the whole Irin situation would’ve been handled very differently. In fact, one of my suspicions as to why the bugged makers were not immediately rescinded (perhaps a bit conspiratory in and of itself) is that more customs = more money for DV. The more individual customs there are on-site, especially public customs, the more mirrors people will need to buy. There would be no benefit to going back on two (2) custom makers, especially when upwards of a dozen (iirc?) were previously given out at once. (I think there were obviously other factors to the irin situation, too - it would take an immense amount of time to go through logs/determine makers spun legitimately and those spun by people who knew of the exploit, they thought it would make people angrier to revoke the makers, maybe it was just sheer incompetence, etc.) Anyhow, point is: there is no reason for the devs to withhold the custom makers they promised. It’s better for them if they’re distributed.

2) As absolutely fucking stupid as a lot of the devs’ decisions are, I really don’t think they’re this stupid.

With DV, there’s a reasonable level of fumbling and bullshit to be expected with pretty much anything that comes out. This surpasses it. I mean, DV’s reputation is in the mud already in pretty much every circle I’ve seen. It’s a small miracle we get new users (even if 90% of them leave in a month, lmao.) Running a raffle that specifically asks people to advertise DV on social media, then expecting them not to tell everyone about a piece of drama this juicy, is… wishful thinking, at best. I truly don’t see staff sabotaging themselves this blatantly.

3) there are more reasonable explanations for the lack of raffle results, ones that are based on the devs’ past actions and are much simpler conclusions to reach.

Occam’s razor and all that. Staff has a history of both not knowing how to do very basic things for a petsite (I mean, they can’t get their own goddamn droprate straight enough to release. doesn’t get much worse than that) and also just… not communicating anything, ever, without the userbase begging and pleading for even a crumb. Either explanation makes much more sense than some tinfoil hat “it was all a lie for free advertising!!!!1!1” nonsense. Hell, you could even combine the two and get a pretty reasonable solution.

So, that in mind, there are three possibilities as to why there’s been no word on the custom winners.

A) The winners haven’t been drawn because staff either hasn’t finished compiling the data, or they can’t figure out how to select a winner. I think the main evidence is the sheer length of the custom entry thread on-site. They’ve run giveaways on social media before, and smaller raffles for events, but I don’t think they’ve done anything that was 1) both at once and 2) this large in scale. Capes were distributed gradually as people posted in the thread, so it would be logical to assume that entries were compiled as the thread grew, but I wouldn’t be shocked if the most crucial step was saved until the very end. Additionally, they could be short-handed due to finals or holidays, Anji could’ve insisted on doing this alone, etc.

B) The winners have been drawn and contacted, but staff has not communicated this at all. I’m somewhat less keen to believe this (though perhaps that’s wishful thinking on my part, haha) because surely at least one of them would have said something? The only reason I can think of is that either both winners are hardly active/hermits/wish to remain anonymous, or winners were asked not to reveal the fact that they won. I really can’t say how likely either option is.

C) it’s a lovely cocktail of both explanations. Winners haven’t been drawn, and staff won’t communicate because this kind of delay makes them look incompetent. I think this is the most likely option. I mean, there are threads on-site addressing this very issue. Surely, if the winners had been drawn, either the winners or the staff would step in to clear things up?

In short, take off your tinfoil hats. I think this entire situation is another example of the incompetence and ineffective/nonexistent communication that has plagued DV since its inception. Just another goddamn Tuesday on the most poorly conceived petsite this side of the 2010s. That said, I think we should keep posting about this on-site; historically, raising a ruckus and posting a few conspiracy theories has forced staff to post some kind of response in the past. It sucks that we have to force their hand for basic communication, but… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

To any staff involved with the raffle who might skim this blog and come across this: for the love of god, just say something on the matter. The only reason speculation spirals this far into the land of conspiracy is because you let it. We have nothing to go on, ever, because you refuse to give it. It’s infuriating to watch because I want to have faith that y’all have morals and half a braincell but you make it so fucking difficult. Even typing this out, I caught myself thinking, “but what if.” Your userbase’s lack of faith in you speaks the volumes that pretty art and cute npcs could never fill.

.

[sondepoch]

Want | Scaramouche x Reader

Scaramouche + “You make me want things I can’t have.”

You don’t need Scaramouche at all—don’t need him, don’t need his men, don’t need any of his diplomatic connections to achieve the goal the Tsaritsa presented before you with. Still, you can’t help but want him.

MASTERLIST

Request a character or a ship and I’ll write a drabble for you ^^

The worst part is that Scaramouche actually respects you.

It’s something everyone in the Fatui knows by now: that you’re the only Harbinger he can tolerate, the only Harbinger he’s willing to work with, the only Harbinger he respects enough to invite to these little strategy missions.

It’s the highest honor one can receive from a man like Scaramouche, who’s known best for his averseness to all encounters that don’t directly benefit him. And yet, it’s nothing more than that: a distinction in his mind between the incompetent and the competent, useless and the useful.

You simply happen to fall into the latter category.

You’re not sure if that makes it better or worse.

“And I was also thinking that as soon as we’ve set up enough microfinancing loans, we could start to move into the city. Get the towns on the outskirts used to Fatui presence, and then hit the Inazuman capital with our people just as they’ve begun to hear of us. The only problem there is that we’d need to combine our forces if we want to effectively disperse our agents, which would leave us open to attack…”

You tune the man out, barely paying attention as he continues on about infiltration tactics. 

After all, it’s not the Fatui you care about.

It’s him.

“But I suppose getting a third Harbinger involved would only complicate the situation, since we’re the only diplomats who’ve ever been sent to Inazuma. Which would mean…”

“A third Harbinger wouldn’t need to be involved in our diplomatic operations,” you say, interrupting the man. “Assume that your and my forces completely focus on intelligence within the city. If we bring a third Harbinger in, we can keep them excluded from the operation and tell them to solely focus on keeping guard to protect us from attacks.”

Scaramouche hesitates when he hears your idea, and then his face breaks out into the rare, thankful smile that you joined the Fatui to see.

“Of course,” he says, bringing a glass of wine to his lips as he leans further back in the chair. “As expected of someone as strategically inclined as you.”

You can only smile, grateful that the man you adore is giving you a compliment. The fact that he only likes you for your brain is a thought you refuse to entertain.

“You’re too kind, Balladeer.”

“Only because you deserve it,” the man says, something flashing in his eyes that could be counted as less-than-innocent, though you know by now that it’s nothing you can pay attention to.

“Well, my efforts would be useless without your men,” you respond, bringing your own glass to your lips as you lean back in your armor, letting the thick metal clink against the chair when your back hits it. 

“Nonsense. Your mind is sharp enough that a loss in resources wouldn’t hinder you.”

“That’s…” true.

And that’s probably the worst part of all.

You don’t need Scaramouche at all—don’t need him, don’t need his men, don’t need any of his diplomatic connections to achieve the goal the Tsaritsa presented before you with. It’s a painfully obvious fact given your track record: near-perfect except for the single blemish that forced you to join the Fatui in the first place—but the Tsaritsa has always known that your blunder was intentional, that there was never any flaw in your plan, that you consciously outed yourself as Snezhnaya’s most wanted thief so you could get closer to the mysterious enigma that was the Sixth Harbinger.

Yet, as you sit in his room, drinking his wine at his table to concoct a battle plan to work around his men, you’re no closer to the man than when you first joined.

Or—perhaps that’s a lie. Perhaps you know more about him now than you did before.

After all, back when you didn’t know him, you believed him to be a pretty man with a penchant for draconian punishment. Both true, except that now, you know that he’s already been promised to another—and that Scaramouche, the Balladeer, Sixth of the Eleven Harbingers, is someone who would never stoop so low as to cheat.

Yet, he respects you.

Or rather—he respects your mind.

“Something wrong?” Scaramouche leans forward with a hint of vague concern in his eyes, and you hate how you know that it’s that: vague concern, distant and hazy because your relationship doesn’t warrant any actual care.

“Nothing, Balladeer. Just thinking about a plan I’m going to present to the Tsaritsa tomorrow.”

“Ah,” he hums, not bothering to ask because he knows it’s likely confidential. “Well, you should relax. I doubt that your plan has any flaws, and even if it does, the Tsaritsa will trust you enough to allow you to execute.”

“Right.” 

“No, I mean it.” Scaramouche offers you another rare smile, pushing the glass of wine closer. “People need to indulge every now and then. Even Harbingers. You’ll be better off if you give in to what you want.”

It’s out of character for him to look out for you like this, but you accept the glass regardless.

“There’s no point,” you mutter, gazing at your wavy reflection in the deep red liquid. “I want too much. Can’t have it all. There’s a reason I got caught for stealing.”

Not quite the reason he must be thinking, but yeah, the reason does exist.

“I’m sure you can steal whatever you want if you try hard enough.”

“Easy to think,” you mutter, taking a long sip. “But some things aren’t a matter of strategy.”

“Oh? Pray tell, who could be standing between you and what you want?”

Your expression turns bitter, turning into what has to be a sharp glare as you let out all the resentment that has been festering from years of being nothing more than a distant friend to Scaramouche.

“You. You make me want things I can’t have.”

Scaramouche’s smile doesn’t change at that, and your heart sinks when you see how he doesn’t even think to ask what you mean.

He knows, you realize, staring hopelessly into his violet, unchanging eyes. He’s known.

God, that’s embarrassing. That the man you’ve been obsessed with since you joined this wretched organization knows you like him, knows you think about him day and night, knows you’d do anything for him—and he never bothered to say anything.

How humiliating.

This is rejection, isn’t it? This is his way of telling you to crush your hopes and move on because this is as far as you go: being an aid to his strategy, nothing more than a tool to advance his success.

You stand abruptly, not even sure what you’ll say in your shame when you head out—but, then you remember what he said earlier—and things begin to feel different.

I’m sure you can steal whatever you want if you try hard enough.

Your devastation turns incredulous, and you suddenly think about how you first learned that Scaramouche was engaged through some table talk among the low-level recruits. You’d believed it at the time, but Scaramouche is the kind of ass to spread those rumors so suitors won’t approach him, right? He’s the kind of man to consciously put up a distant facade to keep everyone he doesn’t like away, right? And he’s been inviting you every other night to talk about bullshit strategy you couldn’t care less about, keeping you close, if anything, and—

Ah, fuck.

Your face changes as you continue to stare at Scaramouche, trying to dissect his expression for a hint of what he’s thinking. Alas, it’s useless: he wears the perfect poker face, lips curled as he waits for you to make the next move.

Hesitant, you take a seat.

He does nothing in response, though you swear his grin widens the slightest.

And so with no encouragement but the unbridled courage of adrenaline running through your veins, you open your mouth and say things you should have said long ago.

[we-are-inevitable]

until forever // javid

Until Forever

some things about this fic: -davey being salty about his grades -Oblivious Jack !!! -drunk confessionsssss -jack splurges on good tequila and you Cannot tell me otherwise -they’re in university so, like, it’s automatically good

i hope u guys like this oneee !!

The front door opens to reveal a frazzled David Jacobs with a single black coffee, one bag of groceries, and an overstuffed satchel crossed over his torso.

The groceries are the first to drop to the floor. Jack knows that nothing in the bag is damaged; if something inside was fragile, then David surely would have brought the bag to the apartment’s small kitchen rather than discarding it onto the floor. As he watches the taller man set his coffee on the small table next to the front door, Jack can’t help but smile.

“Rough day, Davey?”

“You. Have. No. Idea,” David crosses the room and inelegantly drops his school bag into the chair against the wall, heading straight for the kitchen. “I’m convinced that Professor Snyder is incompetent. There is no fucking way I got less than a 90 on my midterm report, Jack, there’s no way! But no! Apparently he gave me a goddamn 86 on the paper--”

“I’m sorry, but is there somethin’ wrong with an 86? Seems pretty good to me,” Jack says as he stands up off of the couch, following David to the kitchen. “Don’t stress about it. You have, like, two months until the end of the semester, you’re gonna bring your grade up.”

“Oh, no, I have a high A in the class,” David says nonchalantly as he reaches up to grab a bottle from on top of the fridge-- tequila. Oh. David is in one of those moods. “It’s just-- He has the audacity to give me an 86, yet he gives Morris fucking Delancey a 98? There’s no way his paper was better than mine! I just--”

“Davey, I love ya, man, and I feel for ya, but if you get any more pissed you’re gonna break the bottle and you’re gonna owe me, like, $40. That’s my good tequila.”

“Get the shot glasses, Kelly.”

“On it.”

Jack has a painting he could have been doing. Not classwork, he was pretty much caught up with everything so far, but he has a commission that needs to be sent off by the end of the next week and he's still in the sketching phase. But, really, what's the point of working on a commission when he can get drunk with his best friend instead?

After all of these years, it is still weird to call David a ‘friend.’ They had met in the 8th grade, when Jack was adopted by Medda, who happened to teach drama at the school David attended. On the first day, David had told Jack to "shut the hell up" in their science class, and the two had been inseparable ever since. They had been 13 when they met.

Now, they're both nearing 23, living in an apartment together, both in their last year of college.

And Jack still hasn’t told David that he is completely, totally, irrevocably in love with him.

Jack brings the shot glasses to the living room, while David brings the bottle and a container of orange juice to chase it. They both sit on the couch for the next thirty minutes, ranting about their days and the horrible people they've dealt with in town or at work or in class or wherever they had over the course of that week.

Thirty minutes turn into an hour, and an hour turns into two. By that time, the sun is setting, casting a glow straight into the window of the apartment. Jack tilts his head and looks over at David with a chuckle at something he had said, but all laughter was lost as he caught David’s gaze.

God, those blue eyes make him weak. And with the way that the light was directly on them… Jack can’t take the silence.

He turns his body to face David, leaning his head against the back of the couch as his arms cross over his torso. “You ever been in love, Davey?” He asks with that signature Kelly grin. There’s no doubt in his mind that he looks like an idiot. Big smile, scrunched-up nose, squinty eyes- he had been told by plenty of girls that that look was 'something out of a romcom,' and he had never wanted that to be truer than right now.

The question seems to sober David up a little bit. He gulps and glances away, cheeks flushed- though Jack can’t tell if he’s blushing, or if it’s the alcohol. “I-... Jackie, c’mon. You’ve known me for ten years, you would know--”

“Ah, ah, ah, I think you have a bunch of shit you ain’t tellin’ me,” Jack says with a smirk, though his eyes soften up a bit. All he wants is for David to say yes. If David tells him, then Jack will be able to move on. If David is in love with someone else, then Jack can finally muster up the courage to finally stop telling himself he has a chance. “What about that boy you was with last year? What was his name? Lance?”

“Luke,” David corrects him with a grimace, “And no. I didn’t love him. I… I figured out a few months into it that I… loved someone else,” He admits with a shrug, then scratches the back of his neck. “...Love. Present tense. I love someone else.”

What a kick in the teeth.

Jack sits up a little straighter, then raises a brow. “Damn, you must’a had feelings for this fella for a while. It’s been, what, near a year since you and Luke broke it off?”

“I’ve liked this guy way longer than I’ve even known Luke,” David says simply, shooting Jack a smile that made his stomach flip.

“What’s he like?”

“Well,” David thinks for a moment, then grins. “He’s really sweet. Stupid, but in a good way,” He chuckles, and Jack can’t help but let out a little laugh as well. “He’s been through a lot, but he’s the most caring guy I’ve ever met. He’d give the shirt off his back for any one of his friends, and trust me, he has a lot.”

“Lots’a friends? Is he a frat guy?”

“Oh, hell no. Far from it. He’s just… really charismatic. He’s… He’s great,” David says with a melancholy grin, avoiding Jack’s gaze as he takes a slow sip of tequila straight from the bottle.

Something about the way that David is acting has Jack on edge. He seems so close to saying something, but Jack has no idea what it is, and, against his better judgment, Jack presses on. “Tell me more. Does he go here?”

“Mhm. He’s an art student,” David admits nonchalantly, and Jack’s heart feels like it rips in two. An art student… No. There’s no way David is talking about him, but the fact that he’s into another art student who isn’t Jack makes him regret ever asking in the first place. “He’s good, too. Really good. Seriously, Jack, his art... It’s the best I've ever seen. He likes music, too, and he’s a great singer, even though he doesn’t think so. He’s a horrible driver, but he can navigate the subway system in his sleep. He’s a pretty good--...”

David hesitates. Jack watches, holding his breath.

The silence between them is so heavy that Jack feels like he’s being crushed. Suffocated. “David...”

David takes a deep breath. Closes his eyes. “He’s a pretty good roommate, too. Even if he cares more about a $40 bottle of tequila than he cares about me.”

Jack is silent for a few long moments. He’s frozen in place, trying desperately to connect the dots, and deep down he knows what David is saying, but he can’t do this and he doesn’t want to assume and what if he's wrong? What if David is just playing a cruel joke on him? What if-- “Davey, what- what are you sayin’? I-- Dave, you need to- to spell it out, I don't understand--"

"Jackie," David cuts him off as he turns to face him, a sad smile on his face. The look makes Jack’s breath catch in his throat. “I love you. Jack Kelly, I love you.”

“No, you don’t,” Jack responds instantly, his eyes widening just slightly. “No, because- because I-- Fuck, I’ve loved you for so long, but you- you don’t love me. You- you can't love me, Davey, you deserve so- so much better than me, I'm so-- Is this real? Are you-- Are you real?”

The smile that breaks out onto David’s face stuns Jack into silence. “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids,” David whispers, before letting out a laugh. “I just-- Jack, how could I not love you? You're everything to me, Jackie... Everything. All I've ever wanted. I know you don’t see it, but... You're the best thing to ever happen to me."

There's a long, long pause as Jack takes in the information. He's confused, and overwhelmed, but as the gears finally stop turning and the pieces fit into place, Jack lets out a giddy laugh. “I-- Davey, Davey, oh my God, you’re so fuckin’ perfect. You’re smart, and nice, and stubborn as a mule in the best way possible, and I- I ain’t good with words, you know that, but you--... All of my best paintings, all of my best sketches, are all because you were my muse. You were… Perfect. You’ve always been perfect… David?”

“Yeah, Jack?” David answers, breathless, and he's truly a sight to behold.

“Kiss me.”

The feeling of David frantically dragging him into his lap would forever be one of the best Jack has ever experienced. He straddles David’s thighs, wraps his arms around David’s neck, and melts as soon as David pulls him into the best kiss he had ever had.

It's just this side of rough, of passionate, of needy and wanton and Jack can feel ten years worth of wanting, waiting, wishing for this moment fuel the kiss even more.

David’s hand is in his hair. Caressing him. Grounding him.

They kiss for what feels like hours, but Jack eventually pulls back for breath, forehead gently pressed against David’s. Something tells him they should have done this a long time ago, but at least they had the rest of forever.

[lovelyirony]

 cosmetology anon: this is for you, although I tweaked the idea a bit. i hope you don’t mind! 

Acquiring Tony Stark as an Asset had been purely by chance; after all, he wasn’t planned on being in the car. He was still an insolent teenager, angry with the world and angry with his father. They didn’t think he would’ve gone to a business party. 

But his mother...well. They hadn’t thought that Tony Stark was a mama’s boy. 

Because there Tony is, gasping for air while glass glitters all around him, looking near about like an angel that was torn from heaven with how it surrounded him. 

They had thought he was dead.  

At least, up until the point when he had looked Winter Soldier dead in the eye, said “hey you fucking asshole” and got a pretty damn good shot in the thigh. 

Someone on the brink of death might have tried the gun, but never the insult. 

So Hydra gets a brand new toy. 

Not easily broken, which is a pain-and-a-half to deal with. At least with the Winter Soldier, he was too delirious with blood loss to notice who was operating on him, what they were attaching. 

Tony Stark is on a whole other level. 

He bites, he kicks, he scratches. Quite annoying, they just want him to tire himself out. 

“Stark Industries doesn’t negotiate,” he hisses, trying to kick one of the nurses in the teeth. 

“Who said anything about negotiating?” says the head doctor viciously. His teeth glint in the fluorescent lighting, scalpels reflecting brilliantly onto the walls. “As far as the media knows, you’re dead. No one is going to come looking, and no one even knows who we are.” 

They make him sleep on a cot nearby Winter Soldier. Which is terrifying, to say the least. Not that he can kill him. He can’t touch him either. 

He’s in a deep freezer. Eyes closed, thank god. But they put him there and they tell him all about how he came to be there. 

“Everyone thought Barnes hit a rock and died,” one of the techs says, checking the machine. “He nearly did, but Zola helped us fix him up. Course, that was after a couple of times where he got to someone’s neck, and that was even before programming.” 

“Programming?” 

The tech leers at him, grinning. He’s standing, Tony’s sitting. It shouldn’t be as intimidating as it is. 

“Oh yeah, Stark. They’re gonna fix you all up.” 

“I don’t need fixing.” 

“Tell that to Winter Soldier.” 

“And what if your little machine gets rid of me, hm? Kills me?” 

“We add you to the other disappointments, or we dig a shallow grave and hope you’re found decades later.” 

Not exactly promising. 

But here’s the thing: the tech was wrong. They won’t add him to the pile of disappointments. 

The last time he went to a therapy appointment, his therapist said he had a “deep-seated need to be liked and be useful, which could be dangerous later.” 

He’s assuming that Doc Chesterfield wasn’t exactly expecting Tony to be in the running towards becoming America’s Next Top Murder Machine, but Doc wasn’t really the kind of guy who was “in the know” about a lot of things. 

That need to be liked and useful was about to come in handy.  

Barely able to legally drink, he goes to the main doctor in charge. “You need me.” 

The doctor looks at him incredulously. 

“You think we need a kid to do all this shit? You think we haven’t figured it out?” 

“You can’t have Barnes-” 

“Winter Soldier, boy.” 

“Fine, your little toy soldier. You can’t keep him out longer than necessary, otherwise his brain realizes that all of you are shitty and tries to break out. Again. You need someone else to take a look at it, and I’m the best bet you got.” 

“And why would that be?” 

Tony grins, and they see a shadow of what he has had in his life, exactly just who he used to be. Who he still is, at the moment. 

“Whether you want to admit it or not--I’d say go ahead and admit it, I’m fun like that--I’m the smartest one in the room, maybe in the country. Maybe in two countries. I could swing the UK, it’s not like they’ve had anything interesting for the last hundred or so years--” 

“Get to the point,” the handler hisses. 

“I can help with arm maintenance. I’m not gonna do anything else to this poor guy, but I wanna stay alive and I’m not letting you erase my fucking mind because you want to have another toy soldier to march to your drum.” 

“You almost make a compelling case,” the handler says. “We do need a mechanic on the arm, so to speak. But if he only comes out when we need him...well. Maintenance is manageable.” 

Tony pushes his chin out. 

“I can do better than your best.” 

“Unfortunately, I don’t care. You’re too big of a liability.” 

It is at this moment that Tony realizes he cannot talk his way out, or fight his way out, but damn he gets a scalpel and tries. 

Manages to slice across the face of the handler. Nerve damage, tissue damage, quite potentially a very ugly nose. All very nice. 

That gets him moved up by a month. 

They send him to a chair that’s probably a lot worse than he’s imagining, give him a mouth guard, and tell him to scream all he likes. Sometimes it’s better to not have a voice later. 

They say it like they’re quoting one of those shitty articles from Cosmopolitan that discusses the top forty-five best ways to move in the bedroom or something. He and Rhodey use to read it all the time whenever they visited one of the sororities. 

(He misses Rhodey, more than words can say. The tears burn in his throat as the chair powers up, but he doesn’t dare cry. He hasn’t told them about Rhodey, and he doesn’t want him used against him. 

He doesn’t want to be used against Rhodey.) 

- 

Tony Stark becomes the Mechanic. He stares too long, moves a bit slow at times, and doesn’t like people touching his things. 

Hydra thinks it’s a success. 

-

Tony thinks they should’ve done more than three sessions of go-round for their little buzzy-chair. 

-

Just god, have none of them had to act before? Is that what this is? 

So long as he doesn’t show any aspect of any real personality, they think he’s a walking-talking robot. 

Should’ve just called him Chatty Cathy and attached a pull-string to his back with loadable phrases if they were just gonna call him the Mechanic and think his silence and weird staring habits were fine. 

Winter Soldier needs maintenance. 

Tony tries very carefully to keep his persona up. He thinks he’s doing a good job until the nurse leaves the room for her smoke-break and Winter Soldier gives him a look that’s so...different. 

"They think you’re like me.” 

“I am.” 

“No.” 

“And how can you tell?” 

“You’re not hurting my arm.” 

“Well I can, if you wanna be a masochist about it.” 

He blankly stares. 

“Why didn’t it work?” 

“Not enough rounds.” 

“We need to stop talking or they’ll watch the cameras.” 

“Got it.” 

Tony is not facing the cameras. They have no suspicion now, and if they can’t see him move his lips, then there’s no worry. 

He faces Winter Soldier. 

“You wanna get out of here? Tap once on your left, right on my thigh for yes. Twice for no.” 

Tap. 

There it is. 

“Well, it’ll take time. You okay with that?” 

Tap tap. 

“I can’t make wishes come true,” Tony says sarcastically. Soldier hides a smile. “But. I have someone who might be looking for me. Or he’ll know it’s me.” 

“A friend?” 

“Something better. Family.” 

It takes a little while. Despite Hydra’s incompetence at programming Tony out of his own system, they’re good at watching. They’re good at sniffing out undercover plans, so they set nurses to watch him and give him the worst food in his life. 

And he can’t say anything about it. 

They’re probably rations leftover from World War II, and here he is, pretending like it doesn’t bother him. 

The first mission they’re out on, Tony wants so badly to break free. It looks too easy, probably because it is. 

“The first time I escaped, they dragged me back and nearly gave me a matching leg to go with the arm,” Soldier murmurs in Russian. 

(Tony’s had to take Russian classes. God, he’s lucky he has an eidetic memory otherwise he’d be up a paddle with a slotted spoon.) 

“What, didn’t want to put more value on yourself?” 

“Something like that,” Soldier says grimly. “Pay attention. They’re gonna put you in a cafe, have you run surveillance. You report back to me. Call me Winter.” 

“Call me Mechanic.” 

“That’s the name they chose?” 

“Didn’t count my vote.” 

Winter snorts. 

“Time to get a move on.” 

Tony has never been good at hiding his emotions, but by god he’s learning on the fly. At least Winter has a mask, and they’re...well, they’re working on one for him. 

It’s not exactly priority, because everyone in the world thinks he’s dead. 

- 

Well. Shouldn’t say everyone. There is one guy who has decided that Tony didn’t die. 

James Rhodes is a very smart guy, graduated top of his class at MIT and has full honors. 

He also knows that Tony has fallen off of beds, out of chairs, down one flight of stairs, and tripped on just about everything. 

And he’s lived. He has defied near-death experiences before, and he’s been fine. 

Maybe Rhodey is crazy. He most likely is. 

But he doesn’t mind being crazy if no one can actually confirm that Tony died. The funeral was closed for the family, not even Rhodey could go. 

“Sorry kiddo,” Obie had said, not sorry at all. He’s never liked the kid, thought him too blunt about situations that he didn’t need to be blunt about. 

So Rhodey thinks that this is a conspiracy, only he doesn’t want his best friend to end up on a YouTube video five years later talking about the “tragic disappearance” and how “no one could figure it out.” 

He’s James fucking Rhodes. Sometimes goes by Rhodey. And he’s got this. 

- 

Winter Soldier does not “got this.” He is currently being thrown against a wall, and grunting as he looks at the target. 

Tony is currently trying very hard not to have a full-blown emotional show-off, because he is supposed to be fixing up some of the weapons and sending them out. 

It is rather stress-inducing, once you start thinking about it. 

He tries not to. 

God, he’s not even getting pizza after that. He’s probably going to get some bullshit like a vanilla nutritional protein shake. 

Out everything he’s been put through, and that’s the thing that makes him retch.

 - 

Barnes is looking...rough. He got shoved a lot, the mission didn’t exactly go to plan, which turns out to be quite the large problem. 

Because Tony took over. They found out that he can actually assemble weaponry and aim with nearly-one-hundred-percent accuracy. 

They think it’s because they fried his brain and injected some sort of back-alley-serum. 

It’s not. 

He’s not even sure if their serum worked, if he’s being completely honest.

But this? Oh god. 

The doctors look at him with an almost giddy joy. 

“We’ll have Soldier train you.” 

"He is not going back into the cryogenic chambers?” 

“No, not...not until you prove yourself.” 

“I have proven myself accurate with mechanical fixes.” 

“Always best to diversify your skills.” 

“Expand.” 

(Tony’s been messing with them a lot. They’re not positive he knows advanced vocabulary. He does, he just hates them.) 

Barnes is...not exactly excited that he’s not becoming an ice-pop. 

“I’m...training you?” 

“Yeah, looks like it. You wanna teach me how to choke someone with my thighs?” 

“Only when they send the Widows.” 

“Who are they?” 

“Best damned assassins you’ll ever have the displeasure of experiencing.” 

“Aw, you’re learning how to curse!” 

“Shut up, they’re onto us.” 

- 

Winter Soldier and the Mechanic have a...cordial relationship. At least, out of the ring. 

In the ring, they don’t rather like the other that much. Mechanic much prefers to avoid Soldier at all times. 

“You can’t just run from every opponent,” Winter hisses. 

“You’ve been doing it since 1948,” Tony responds in a robotic tone, nearly missing a kick to the shins. “I don’t see why not.” 

He smiles at that one, looking at Tony. 

He was...Tony was unique. He would whisper stories in the dead of night, mostly about a man named Jarvis and a boy his age named “Rhodey.” 

“His parents...they didn’t actually name him that, did they?” 

Tony has to bury his face in his pillow to hide his face from laughing. 

Winter got a good look at that smile. 

It’s chillingly nice to look at it, and maybe that’s because he hasn’t smiled in years, or maybe it’s because he’s never seen another person smile with joy in it for decades. 

- 

For a couple more months, nothing on their side happens. 

Rhodey, however, learns how to use Tony’s homemade AI for illegal purposes! 

He’s figured out lots of things. 

Tony was never confirmed dead. Technically, he’s a missing person. 

Which means they don’t know if he’s dead because they never found him. 

Secondly, there’s a strange email to someone who goes by Zola. 

Well, Rhodey and Tony didn’t stay up until three a.m. to solve impossible codes for nothing. 

James Rhodes figures out that the Winter Soldier isn’t some whispered about myth, and so he decides to try and find him. 

He’ll need to ask Mama if he can use the sedan, but it should be fine. After all, he has a friend to find. 

- 

Hydra is getting too used to having them out. Tony’s been coaching Barnes on not letting his reactions be at the front and center. 

He’s remembering a lot more. Starting to become a bit more human-like. 

He actually doesn’t like the food now, which is a tasteful improvement. 

“When we get out,” Tony whispers in night. “I’m going to make sure that you get the best goddamned pizza the earth has ever seen. And we’ll celebrate your birthday.” 

“When is my birthday?” 

“I...huh. I don’t know. That’s not the fact I remember from school.” 

“So you remembered that my favorite movie star was Hedy Lamarr, but not my own birthday?” 

“In my defense, Ms. Lamarr is far more memorable than a simple date on the calendar.” 

Barnes smiles. 

“I can’t wait to see a picture of her.” 

“You will, soon.” 

- 

Rhodey is getting close. 

The only barrier is convincing his mama to use the sedan. 

“What for?” 

“A trip.” 

“To?” 

“Washington DC?” 

“Why are you questioning that, young man?” 

“Um, because of gas money? Maybe?” 

Mrs. Rhodes stands up to her full height of five-foot-two and stares. 

“What’s the real reason? I didn’t raise a son who could lie to his mother successfully.” 

Rhodey sighs. 

“Tony’s alive. I think. I’m, like, ninety-five-percent sure.” 

Her face softens. 

“Oh baby, you’ve talked about this with your therapist, and-” 

Rhodey glares. 

“It’s not about the therapist’s opinion, mom. I broke into some records. There was a closed-casket funeral, and technically? They didn’t have a body for Tones. I know he’s out there, and I think I got a lead with the help of Jarvis.” 

“I thought Jarvis was dead.” 

“Not Edwin, Mama. Tony’s creation, an AI named Jarvis.” 

Mama looks at him carefully. 

“You sure this is what is going to make you happy?” 

“I don’t care about being happy, I want to see if I can bring him home, Mama.” 

She dangles the keys. 

“If you scratch this car up, I will not hesitate to tell every single aunt at church about this and have common sense walloped into you.” 

“I promise I won’t,” Rhodey says. “I know what I’m doing.” 

“I’ll pack you a bag. And you need your church clothes.” 

“Ma...” 

“Don’t Ma me, I’m your mother, I know what’s best,” Mrs. Rhodes says, sweeping into the kitchen. “Don’t tell your daddy what you told me, you’ll give him a heart attack.” 

“I thought I was gonna give you a heart attack,” Rhodey says. 

She turns, eyes twinkling. 

“You got a lot of learning to do, young man. But go on to DC for me.” 

First stop: gas station. 

Next stop: saving Tony. 

- 

If Tony had known that his friend was so dedicated to saving him that he would drive his mama’s sedan five miles above the speed limit, perhaps he would have stayed put and played nice. 

But Tony did not know this, so he was currently working on fixing Barnes’ arm to shoot projectile missiles that looked like screws to the security cameras. 

“You think they’re counting each screw when none of them even know what your arm can actually do? Not like Zola is physically around anymore,” Tony mutters, holding a screwdriver in his mouth. 

“What’s your plan for escape?” 

“Element of surprise, my dear Watson.” 

“Don’t like that,” Barnes mutters. “What’s your plan once we’re out?” 

“New York City.” 

“That’s it?” 

“You underestimate exactly how much you can hide,” Tony says. “Believe me. We’ll live in an apartment in Queens.” 

- 

Rhodey is about ten minutes away. 

Tony and Bucky have eventually decided to break out, and are having a lovely time shooting a base and putting people through the walls. Really, they shouldn’t have made it out of drywall. Too easy. 

“What fucking vehicle are we taking?!” Barnes yells. 

“I...I will work on it!” 

“You didn’t think about that?!” 

“I was thinking about escaping from a shitty Hydra base!” 

- 

Here comes the sedan! 

- 

Rhodey thought there was only one person, so now the ex-assassin is sitting on his little sister’s school folder, and getting pink glittery on his military pants. 

This was not the plan. 

He is also still only going five over the speed limit, because this is Mama’s sedan. 

He forgot about the little sticker at the back that says “My Son is on the Honor Roll at MIT!” 

“Rhodey love of my life, please go faster than forty miles an hour,” Tony hisses. 

“I can’t believe you’re alive, let me do one thing at a time,” Rhodey stresses. “I bought you hot fries, they’re on the floor in the green bag.” 

“You thought of road trip snacks?” Bucky asks. 

“Yes! And who are you?” 

“Bucky Barnes.” 

Rhodey whips his head around. 

“You lived?” 

“I’ve been told. Eyes on the road and turn left.” 

One tire barely is on the road as he whips the wheel, slamming onto the curb. 

“We are not allowed to fuck my mama’s car up!” Rhodey yells. “Tony, Bucky...do whatever you have to.” 

“How amenable are you to me paying for a new back window?” Bucky asks, left arm already raising. 

“What do you mean-?” 

And...there goes a projectile! 

- 

After twenty minutes of driving around, ten of that being avoiding police blockades, they finally are out on the highway, no one in sight. 

Tony finally breathes. 

“Put on your seatbelt,” Rhodey murmurs. “To New York?” 

“To New York.” 

- 

By all accounts, the table of three men who look slightly rattled and in danger is not actually the worst table that waitress has ever had. 

In fact, the only odd thing that she’s going to say about it is that the young man on the left is wearing a polo shirt, and it is not Sunday, so no church services. A personal outfit choice. 

The man in the middle seems to know this. 

“Rhodey, seriously?” 

“What? It’s laundry day!” 

“I know you had other shirts. I know you did.” 

“Just because you hate polo shirts doesn’t mean you get to hate on me, especially after the shit I just pulled.” 

“He has a point,” says the man on the right. 

“You have no opinion on this. I just met you.” 

“Are you guys ready to order?” She asks nervously, tapping at her notepad with a chewed-up pen. 

They all stare blankly at the menu, and then back at her. She taps her pen one more time. 

“I’ll...um...give you some more time.” She shakes her head. She’s not gonna ask, she doesn’t get paid enough. 

-

Rhodey looks at the two of them. He knows that things...well. 

Tony probably isn’t going to be playing Jeopardy! with this experience. 

Hell, he probably won’t want to see a therapist about this, and Rhodey will have to play Jeopardy! or some obscure dating show simulation with Tony to even help. 

And then there’s the matter of a man who’s supposed to be dead. 

That and...Rhodey decided to finish up college with a master’s degree. 

No one ever said life was easy. 

But. 

It might be fun. 

[ryttu3k]

Already finished Coteries of New York, so on to Shadows of New York! I’ve seen the first bit in an LP, at least, but the bulk of the story will be new. This will have two playthroughs, one for each ending, since at least it has them XD First up - the ‘good’ ending!

Oh dang I like the music.

Julia is a bit on the edgy/cynical side XD

Yeah, she’s got a shit deal :-\ And what’s worse is that it’s all planned out.

Interesting note - at Lodestar, there were shadowy figures in the background, but you could rationalise it as people on the other side of the windows. On the train, you only see the shadowy features, and it’s otherwise empty, so no obvious figures casting them...

I guess if you choose the ‘don’t shoot’ option, Julia gets drained and it’s an early game over?

God that Embrace scene is intense. I got goosebumps!

Spirits, huh? Oh yeah, Obtenebration became Oblivion and is now connected with necromancy, IIRC?

I’m glad she had a good few nights XD;;

Valerie Duval, she was... the scourge in CoNY hunting down the Red Hook killer?

Nice to meet you, ‘Katherine Wiese’ XD

Cool ponytail, Qadir! I really dig the relationship between him and Julia, it’s fun. ‘sup Aisling, how’s Agathon? A blood hunt, really? Y O U. Okay yeah probably better for Julia’s long-term survival for Arturo to ignore her XD;; Samira’s so pretty. Ooh this guy is Hope’s sire, yeah?

“You wanted to hear about which member of New York City's Camarilla I dislike the most?"

"Yes?"

"Too bad. They're all my dear colleagues, and I deeply respect every single one of them."

"Sure you do. Wouldn't want to blurt out something that could lock you out of Mr Vanderweyden's legal services, would you, you ass-kisser?"

"I do expect to find myself in need of a good defense attorney when my broke, incompetent, and foul-mouthed assistant finally pushes me over the edge."

THEMST.

Benoit hi!! “Got any news about Sophie Langley?” *sharp intake of breath* Benoit backstory, that’s rad. I wonder if it’ll be uncovered in-game? Like we know Arturo is still around, Panhard is still around. Presumably Adelaide Davis is still around. Callihan... well, I know what happens to him. I think Torque ditches the scene before Sophie dies?

Father Leonard seems like a good sort. I wonder what his deal is?

Dakota is adorable. I’m going to do the ‘good’ end first even though I know it’ll make me feel horrible, but dangit, the ‘bad’ end is totally going to be my canon.

...Vin Diesel? XD

DING DONG THE DOUCHE IS DEAD. ...Deader than usual, I mean.

jfc Panhard that is pretentious as hell. Both the party description and the costume, actually XD Qadir’s mask is kind of funky. Oh my god Arturo you are a Toreador is that the best you can come up with?! Nice horns, Aisling.

...Thought, given their clans, Samira/Aisling could be interesting as hell.

Man, Arturo and Panhard must be pissed off XD Unless they’ve already picked their replacement stooge?

And here’s where the plot starts! Hey, isn’t that the priest’s house? Ohh, they’re meant to be meeting with Mia. I guess they’re just reusing assets.

“It’s a list of four names. ‘D’Angelo. Hope. Agathon. Tamika.’“ *SHARP INTAKE OF BREATH* Okay, that could be the list Sophie gave the fledgling. Which one did Callihan get it from?

Oh criminy Dakota don’t tell me you’re into that Q-Anon shit XD;; Ooh okay that makes more sense. Neat.

Ahhh man I was hoping to get a lead and instead Julia has to punish this poor fuck XD;; Yeesh. Okay, Bunny as a Reporter it is, then.

Almost run over by a limo, huh? *chinstroke*

Oooh this is the lead to Hope! Yeah, I’d say she has a connection with a Montgomery XD Wonder if she did end up eating her? Huh, contact used LeakyGutSyndrome... didn’t Hope end up having to retire that one, or was it the other one? Let’s just... Dominate this guy. Sorry dude it’s for your own good.

Agathon’s missing? :( Damn, he’s like one of the only decent Tremere. Oho, a diary! Oh sweetheart :( Oh, Silvia died :( Damn, interesting past, though... and a reference to CoNY again.

Fucking shadows, I literally glanced over my shoulder.

S C H E M E S. And yeah, looks like I’m on my way to the ‘good’ end :-\

Oh shit, Adelaide or.... whatshisname, Kaiser’s dude? Oooh man who to meet first... Kaiser’s dude. Oh. That was a bit anticlimactic XD

On to see Hope at Double Spiral. I think this is one of those choices that leads to one of the endings, so what’s more ruthless and Camarilla... busting in it is.

Nastya isn’t having a good night, is she XD;; Also Hope’s suit is badass.

...huh. Sounds like she’s actually managed to get shit sorted decently XD

Interesting... the coterie members were a list of heroes for hire that multiple people had, including Sophie. Well, that widens the scope a bit! Anonymous information broker, shall I assume that’s Kaiser? OH. No, it’s her sire!

“The story going around is, he left me alone and I hate his guts. Well, at least half of that is true.” Which half, though...

Aww man I wish I had saved some of those websites! I miss SciFiVine...

You know, I’m not 100% sure Carter’s the murderer (my main suspect is Arturo at this point tbh) but damn, the bit about Stern’s show kinda makes me want to slap him anyway XD;;

Queer Catholic blues, huh :-\

“Haven’t you noticed what’s going on in the news? People are going absolutely insane about this virus, cancelling trips and orders and --” Ahh. We’re in that 2020 XD;;

Okay the scene with the kid meeting his girlfriend was cute but then spooky time?? jfc was that the Abyss?!

Ooooh did she just find Tamika solely by accident? Thanks, Abyss XD I love how Julia’s first response is ‘shit, she’s hot’. And she took out a whole SI squad herself? Nice. Calebros mention! Huh, so the SI are maintaining the status quo... they became an issue because the Camarilla tried to sic them on the Anarchs and Sabbat and it backfired, maybe it actually succeeded here?

Ooh, a history with Torque. Neat. Also not sure with the art, but are those tattoos on Tamika’s arm, or fur? I mean, Gangrel beast marks and all.

Sorry Torque I’m just trying to get the ‘good’ end :(

Mention of the fledgling! Officially ‘disappeared’, that leaves it fairly ambiguous at this point.

Oof. The Circulatory System are... not cool. And yeah Julia’s just been called tf out, I do look forward to this scene in the ‘bad’ end XD;;

COVID strikes back. The Big Beat Burger is closed :( Charlie is sweet, at least! I hope his mom is okay.

Well that rat bit was weird. Hi D’Angelo! Oh my god blood doll rats? Drunk blood doll rats?! Still a damn good detective, though, that’s good shit. On to Kaiser and some answers! ...Yeah, okay, he’s a prime suspect too.

Kaiser, you are a deeply unpleasant person :-\

...good to know pepper spray still works. And, uh, probably satisfying to beat him up XD;; And yeah, there’s the last choice for the ‘good’ ending. Sorry dude.

...huh. Okay, I was at least partially right XD;; Oh Qadir, not you too :-\

Well that’s a bit... weird of Dakota, yes.

lmao oh Benoit you absolute mess. Religion as A E S T H E T I C XD I have a theory he’s from Michael’s line and I also quite sincerely believe that Michael would take one look at him and bitchslap him into the next millennium. He’s a Path follower, isn’t he?

Father Leonard is okay. I wonder who the ‘friend’ is?

This is very Agatha Christie, revealing the killer in the midst, except I have the horrible feeling Qadir’s going to go with ‘it was suicide’ and not ‘it was everyone’.

Denouement! Before it ends, Julia’s traits:

Loyal only to myself

Glass half-empty

A little abuse of power never hurt nobody

You can’t be a writer and not lie

The ends justify the means (duh)

Honestly she may have just blackmailed her way into power, set up Carter to take the fall, and sent poor Dakota to final death, but the drama was impeccable XD Good luck not ending up in the Abyss, Julia!

[hesesols]

Into the WILD

Day 16 of Ichiruki month 2020

Trapped inside fantasy MMORPG. Send help please?

Rating: T

FF/ao3

.

The first thing that strikes him as odd is that the ground underneath him is dewy soft. Not that the carpet in his tiny student accommodation isn't soft. It just isn't as soft by comparison and doesn't smell so strongly of grass and urgh- he hates pollen with a vengeance.

It makes his nose itch like mad and –

Wait!

Last time he checked summer was already over and the northern hemisphere was entering early autumn.

.

Brown eyes open in alarm.

The sun is in his eyes as he sits up and he's lying in a sea of golden tulips and ruby red camellias, blades of grass and crushed flowers under his fingertips.

He isn't alone.

There are others next to him. Each one garbed in unusual medieval clothing- intimidating-looking armours with spikes and brightly-coloured capes, fur-trimmings and equally garish-looking armbands; brandishing weapons that range from claymores to wooden staffs. Everyone seems to be in more or less the same state of disbelief and wide-eyed amazement at their new surroundings.

Where are they?

And holy shit! Is that a real-life armoured bear?

.

"You look like you could use a hand there, Kurosaki."

"Ishida?"

Ishida or at least who he assumes to be Ishida- his annoying cousin of sorts and fellow guild member- stands in front of him, offering an outstretched hand. Ichigo recognizes the voice but those pointy ears, the gleaming ivory bow that stands at a grown man's height and strange cleric-like clothing- those are definitely new. He grabs hold of it and pulls himself up, wiping at the grass stains with a fierce scowl before turning to the strange elf-like creature.

"What are you wearing?

Uryuu snorts, "I could ask you the very same question, Kurosaki."

Ichigo glances at the midnight black armour he has on- light weight, extra resistance to magic and +25% endurance to all physical attacks- wait, where did that come from?- the reassuring weight of Zangetsu in his hands-

He blinks.

.

Name: Zangetsu. Also known as: Sword of the Moon, Cursed Fang. Status: Legendary. Raid item from the Sacking of the Gollum King's Palace at Hueco Mundo. The mythical black blade forged by the Grandmaster Yhwach over the Fires of Sokyouku for a full year and a half in preparation for the Conquest of the Soul King's Throne (see also Conquest of the Soul King's Throne). Grants the wielder—

.

Reeling from the surprise, he falls flat on the grass.

How the hell did that just happen? How did all those words and background information just pop into his head unprompted? Almost like they're in a fantasy RPG gam—

"What's going on?"

Uryuu's smile is grim and sardonic, sliding the half-moon glasses up the bridge of his nose before he tells him, "Don't freak out but I think we're inside the game."

.

.

.

"Anything?"

Uryuu shakes his head.

Ichigo sighs. The lines of communication are down and no one has been able to log back out into the real world since they first entered.

"This doesn't make any sense at all!"

10,000 WILD players across the world and different servers who were online and active at precisely 12 midnight that day somehow found themselves transported into the game world and trapped there as their game character persona.

They're calling it the Lockdown.

No one has a clue as to why they were the only people affected, nor do they know how they came to. One minute they were logged in, playing the game as usual; the next thing they know they're lying flat on their asses in this strange new world strongly reminiscent of the game world of WILD, as their respective game characters.

He's one of the lucky ones he thinks. As a human Swords Master, there isn't much alteration to him besides the clothes and the muscle bulk added to his physique, unlike Chad who woke up as a bear armed to the teeth with a war axe and metal gauntlets. It wouldn't have been a pleasant wake up call for anyone, much less someone who wakes up trapped inside a fantasy MMORPG.

"What about Keigo then? Have you managed to locate him yet?"

Uryuu's eyebrow twitches. The pale blue glow from his hand falters for a fraction of a second when his attention shifts to shoot his guild leader a nasty glare.

Ichigo growls before mumbling out an apology to the raven-haired Cleric. He knows of course that Uryuu is trying his best and really in a strange new world that seems equal parts deadly and fascinating, the best is all they can do.

He's just … frustrated over the lack of answers and to make matters worse, one of their own still remains unaccounted for. Out of all the guild members who decided to switch servers during the Lockdown, it just had to be Keigo- scatterbrain extraordinaire. He wouldn't trust Keigo not to get sold on some crazy-ass get-rich-quick scheme in the real world, let alone in this virtual reality full of bloodthirsty monsters just waiting to make a nice dinner out of unsuspecting players.

The double doors to his studies are suddenly pushed apart, jolting him out of his thoughts. Orihime stumbles in barefooted and narrowly avoids tripping over the trail of her druidic dress robes in her excitement. Her cheeks are flushed and the pretty flowers in her flower crown bloom and blossom in magnificent shades of pinks and violets as she makes her announcement.

"Kurosaki-kun! I have his location!"

Ichigo jumps to his feet.

.

Finally!

.

It's the first piece of good news he's had since he found himself stranded here with the rest of his guild members.

"So where is the idiot then?"

Behind her, trails Tatsuki- their resident cynic and Shield Maiden who purses her lips and informs both him and Uryuu rather miserably, "You're not going to like this. He's in the Forest."

Ichigo resists the urge to face-palm as he sees Uryuu rubbing at his temple.

"Keigo must have been on his way back to HQ and decided to take the shorter route," Uryuu rationalizes things- as the team tactician he excels at it, "he couldn't possibly have known."

That's right. Keigo couldn't possibly have known that he would get sucked into the game and be left standing in place of his game character.

Tatsuki gives a derisive snort, "Doesn't make a difference. A level 25 Bard like him can't possibly survive the Forest of Hueco Mundo alone. He's going to get himself killed. The Forest is no man's land- level 70+ Hollows and player killers aren't warded out."

All eyes turn to their orange-haired team leader.

"What do you want us to do?"

Call it instincts but Ichigo has a nasty suspicion that player death in their new world would also mean certain death in the real world. The thought makes him nauseous and for obvious reasons, he isn't too keen on testing out the theory himself.

Keigo may be a pain-in-the-neck and downright insufferable at times but damn it! He's one of them. He's their pain-in-the-neck and they can't just leave him there.

In the real world, Ichigo Kurosaki may be just an ordinary university student bogged down by studies but here in WILD, he's a guild leader, it's his job to look after his guild members and he pledges to make sure that every single one of them makes it back home to the real world in one piece.

Ichigo heaves a loud weary sigh, grabbing the sleek black katana by his side.

"Let's go get our idiot back!"

.

.

.

"I told you we should have gone left instead of right!"

Tatsuki can feel her skull throbbing. She should have just stayed behind with Chad and Orihime.

"Stop yelling at me! It's not my bloody fault that you're so fucking incompetent that you couldn't get a better map!"

"Oh so I'm the incompetent one?! Never mind I was the one who organized the rations! We would have starved to death days ago if I hadn't triple checked our provisions!"

Tatsuki grimaces as the feel of exhaustion creeps in as does the unbearable chaffing on her thighs. It wasn't just the lines of communications that were shut off with the Lockdown. It turns out the Portals- their main means of transport have also been disrupted and that means that the full distance between Karakura and the Forest had to be covered by good old-fashioned horse-riding.

They've been riding nonstop since they left Karakura, trading horses with NPCs in the farmlands nearby to push ahead at a gruelling pace and rescue Keigo as soon as possible. It is a noble cause but the trade-off for the weeks' long worth of hard-riding leaves the three riders surly and sullen. This virtual reality that they're trapped in certainly feels real enough, right down to hunger pangs and sore muscles.

Chaffed thighs, bland food, little sleep and the heat (the sheer humidity was making her hair frizz) made for horrible traveling condition and it seems that both Ichigo and Uryuu are about to hit their respective boiling points.

She rolls her eyes, tugging at her horse's rein to halt.

"Both of you need to shut up before –"

A sudden rustling in the bushes nearby draws their collective attention and sure enough from the depth of the overgrown bushes, a Hollow emerges. This one seems more reptilian in features, flickering pink tongue and all. Something jumps at the back of her mind but Tatsuki ignores it.

The Guide is nothing more than a useless collection of WILD lore and trivia.

She doesn't need a lecture on Hollow classes and their special attacks to know that the only good Hollow is a dead one.

With a loud battle war cry, she unsheathes her blade and leads the charge, throwing herself against the beast.

.

.

Ichigo leaps through the dense foliage with Zangetsu drawn and bloodied in his hand. Despite Tatsuki's misgivings about his foolhardy plans and recklessness, the woman is just as bad with her own brand of battle lust, leading the charge like a crazy berserker.

All hell literally broke loose the second they stormed through the clearing. The sheer number of the Hollow horde overwhelmed them and forced them to break formation and the three of them took off in different directions in a bid to divide the remaining Hollows' attention.

He ducks behind a tree to catch his breath. Having lost sight of both Uryuu and Tatsuki during their retreat, he is in a sour mood and more than a little embarrassed that a level 98 Swordsmaster like him is being forced back by a horde of weakling Hollows in level 50s.

"Psst. Ichigo."

Ichigo grips Zangetsu tightly, eyes nervously darting at his surroundings. He could have sworn that he heard Keigo's voice. Well it's either that or he's officially losing his mind.

"Over here."

A head pops out from the bushes next to him and Ichigo reacts accordingly- nearly slicing the newcomer's head clean off his shoulder and Keigo almost becomes a casualty of friendly fire before Ichigo sees through the heavy layer of disguise and stops the blade mid-swing.

"Keigo?"

The bard is barely recognizable with his slashed and dirtied tunic, patches of dirt and dried leaves covering his face.

"The fuck you doing- sneaking up on me like that! I could have killed you!"

Keigo couldn't have cared less. With a loud wail and snot running down his face, he throws himself at his saviour and professes his undying gratitude in between hiccups and tears.

"ICHIGO! I knew you would come for me! I never doubted for a second!"

"Get off me! You stink!"

The happy reunion doesn't last as the roar of a Hollow and heavy footsteps of a lumbering giant still their movements. Ichigo pushes Keigo away from him and readies his blade, but even his quick reflexes are no match for the suddenness of the attack.

"ICHIGO!"

The Hollow's swipe knocks the air right out of him and sends him flying. The tree trunk of a young sapling snaps in half as his back connects painfully with it. The pain disorients him and he is enough of a doctor's son to recognize the signs of concussion. Also, he thinks he might have cracked a rib (or two) as fresh blood- metallic in taste gurgles past his throat.

His vision clears in time for him to see the Hollow- a Dragon class one with beady yellow, thick, iridescent scales covering its front and gigantic wings sprouted at his back, rearing up for another charge.

This time at Keigo, who is down on his knees- eyes wide with fear as he scrambles to get away from the advancing Hollow.

There's no time to think. Ichigo pushes everything he has- the very last spurt of HP and MP within him towards Keigo, taking his place before the monster with gapping mouth, awaiting certain death to come.

.

.

"Out of the way!"

His eyes snap open just in time to see a small lithe figure, sunlight reflecting off the bone white armour- so bright that he squints, leaping through air and landing gracefully on the Hollow's back. A glint of light flashes yet again and before his very eyes, one of the Hollow's tattered wings is cut off, an arc of blood spurts high into the air and the Hollow's roar of anguish follows.

"Are you deaf or stupid? Get out of the way!"

Ichigo doesn't hesitate. With Keigo tucked under his arm, he pushes past the pain and sprints for the clearing.

With them gone, the mysterious stranger makes quick work of the beast, easily dismantling its other wing before diving for the kill; sinking the white blade somewhere between the soft scruff, flabs of excess skin free from the scaly armour.

Ichigo watches in silence as the dying monster screeches in pain, a swan's song in roars of fury before it topples over with dead eyes, a fine cloud of dust from where its body fell.

With the urgency of the situation gone, he focuses on the newcomer. Sheathing Zangetsu as it becomes apparent from the markings and sigil on the stranger's shield and helmet that he is a Paladin, one dedicated to the path of the light. They're in safe hands- for now at least.

"Where did you come from?"

The Paladin regards him oddly.

"What do you mean?"

.

"Princess!"

Half a dozen of swords are suddenly drawn and held under their throats by what seems to be a band of armed knights. Their armours gleam with the same bone-white shine and the leader of the men- a tall redhead with inked markings across his forehead approaches them with a fierce scowl and the intent to kill.

Next to him, Keigo yelps.

"The fuck!" Ichigo curses. His chest hurts, he's barely standing on his feet and now this?

Can this day get any worse?

.

"Watch your mouth, you punk!" The redhead growls threateningly, "You're in the presence of the Princess."

Amber eyes narrow. Did they think he's stupid? There's no one vaguely even female in their company unless—

The Paladin removes his helmet and a cascade of black hair- dark as the night pours forth. Apple cheeks, soft petal lips and elfin features curtailed somewhat by the iciness of her stare and her unsmiling face.

Their eyes meet.

.

Oh!

.

The short stature suddenly makes so much sense. Ichigo gulps.

"They're Heroes, Renji."

Renji scowls and gives them a dirty look.

Ichigo's eyebrows knot in confusion. "Hang on- what do you mean by Heroes and how are you a princess? Royalty isn't a job class and Paladins don't call themselves Princesses. I don't care what level you are, that's not allowed by the game admins."

The smile on the woman's face- Ichigo doesn't know what to make of it, but he thinks he's about to be made into a fool of epic proportions, especially when she pushes past her armed guards and tilts his face up by the chin with the tip of her white blade.

Smirking with dark violet eyes gleaming, she tells him, "That's because I'm not a Hero. Look closer."

Sure enough- when Ichigo focuses his gaze at her, her presence is shrouded in golden aura. The Guide pings- very belatedly and most unhelpfully, he might add.

.

Name: HRH Princess Rukia of the noble house of the Kuchiki, heir apparent to the throne of Seireitei. Status: NPC

.

He bites his tongue.

"B-But- but NPCs aren't sentient," Keigo blurts out.

Ichigo turns just in time to see him give out a pained yelp, being pummelled by the angry redhead, "Oh I'll show you how non-sentient my fists are!"

He winces. That looks like it would hurt… a lot. But Keigo's an idiot with thick skin, he'll live.

Rukia- her name rolls off his tongue easily. He refuses to even entertain the idea of addressing her by her royal title. For starters, a princess isn't supposed to be a Paladin, or know how to fight or use a sword, or look this good while having him at her mercy.

He gulps when violet eyes narrow at him.

"And you? Do you think that NPCs are non-sentient beings too?"

Ichigo is a fast learner and gives a quick shake of his head.

"Good-" her lips curve into a smile, hair dipping low to tease at the contours of his face as she whispers into his ear- "Because this NPC just saved your life. I'll show you just how deadly I am with my sword before you dismiss me as just another background token NPC."

The sword tip leaves his neck.

"Now, hold still."

That's all the warning he gets before a green glow is emitted from her hands- smelling faintly of mint and something fresh he can't quite name. He shuts his eyes, letting the healing magic wash over him, knitting most of his superficial cuts and wounds back into place.

When the light fades, his chest still hurts but at the very least he feels a little less light-headed and breathes a little easier despite the pain.

He wants to thank her- both for her healing and her timely rescue from the Hollow but she refuses to meet his eyes.

"Renji," she barks at her captain of guards who immediately stands to attention.

"Take them with us. He needs a proper healer. I can't set his broken ribs."

"It's Ichigo!" he calls out, interrupting their conversation and earning himself a hard glare from Renji but Rukia's gaze is almost thoughtful.

"Can you still ride, Ichigo?"

He nods.

A horse is brought to him under Rukia's instructions and as soon as he is properly mounted with Keigo seated behind him, the woman sounds the horn, black hair unbound and flailing in the wind as she leads the company into a gallop.

"To Seireitei!"

.

.

FF/ao3

Review, like, comment or reblog to send some love my way pretties~~~

I have a thing for fantasy AUs. Can’t you tell? Click on link for rec list of some off-main Isekai/Game animes. I have a special place in my heart for them.

[popculturebuffet]

Loud House: 11 Louds A Leapin Review or It’s My Bobby in a Box

Happy Holidays errybody! Christmas returns to this blog after a bit of a break to tie up some loose ends, and celebrate my birthday with a return to the loud house.  It’s honestly good to be back. While it can be a struggle to cover a pure comedy, I genuinely like the show a lot, even with it’s flaws i’ve gone into, and my regular reviews gave  me a running gag in my hatred of rusty and a new respect for the show. It’s just with a buiser schedule and me not actually trying to have something resembling order to things, I kept shoving Banned Together back despite really wanting to see it since.. you know.. Luna episode.. until it ended up sliding into ANOTHER set of episodes. It’s things like this why I have a queue now: while it’s not set day by day, in case I want to do more than one i na day, it is there to keeep some semblance of order and keep me on track so this dosen’t happen again.  So with all that being said.. why did I choose to do A DIFFRENT loud house episode for the second time in a row before getting back to the current season? Simple.. i’ve been putting this episode off personally for even LONGER. I meant to watch 12 louds a leapin back when it first came out at the start of season 2... and just never got around to it. And just kept never getting around to it, wanting to watch it at christmas but then forgetting to do so for the last 4 years. Spare a thought there.. 4 years. In that time 80 years have passed, an era of marvel movies have come to an end, a tick series has come and gone, She Ra has come and gone, ducktales premiered then annoucned it was ending.. my point is way too many shows are ending too soon, and i’ve let this slide for far too long. So I bumped this one up to finally take a look at it, as i’ve waited this long and didn’t want to risk missing it a fifth fucking time. So yeah i’m taking look at what’s probably a classic episode in the fandom with fresh eyes. Let’s see what I thought shall we? It’s Christmas Eve at the Loud House and Lincoln is once again Zach Morrising it up .

Not what I meant.. whatever that is. It’s been 30 years since that episode aired, probably a good 12 since I first saw it and I still have no idea why they did this or if it was giong to end in a three way before the girls showed up. We just don’t know and the greatest minds in the country are baffled.. and you know working on the vaccine and making sure it’s safe. 

No Linc is talking to the camera about it being christmas while gearing up to go sledding with his sled big red. Meanwhile the rest of the louds are doing their usual christmas activities which we get introduced to as Lincoln gets ready. The girls sub-plots here are, outside of Lori’s., less plots and more running gags, various shenanigans by the girls tying into their personalities and christmasy stuff. It works perfectly.. while it’s a bunch of gags.. the gags are funny and it’s neat to learn more about just how the girls celebrate christmas and what they get up to every year. It’s part of what’s to love about holiday specials as you get a once or twice in a series chance to see how our heroes celbrate the holiday and thus a look into stories, gags and character stuff very unique to the holiday. It also uses the fact LIncoln was the protaganist at the time very well, using him as our viewpoint to set up all the christmas goings on as he makes his way out of the house, so we can cut back to them later as his plot goes on. It’s really good stuff. So what are the girls up to? Let’s go down the list by age shall we?

Lori: Lori has the most involved plot anyway so it’s best to start here. Lori and Bobby are having their first christmas together... though it does bring up the fact that they’ve only been dating 2 years at most, yet plan to get married.. I mean that is a lot but your also 18. Then again time is nigh incomprehinsiable to unpack in the loud house, and at least 3 years passed in the one year it took to get them all aged up, so I wouldn’t think about it too hard.  Lori, still being in huge bitch mode as she was early on, pressures bobby to get a good gift. She later gets said gift but despite being told to open it immideitly, her siblings chide her on her habit of tearing presents open and thus get her not to open it. So that’s a runner through the special, with Lana even putting her on a leash at one point, which I found hilarious. Less hilaroius is the conclusion as it turns out in the box on christmas day.. is BOBBY, who understandably is not looking so good...

Thankfully bobby’s not dead or they all would be, but still the poor boy missed christmas eve with his mom  and sister for this stunt. I mean I get it’s his fault, he’s apparently LITERALLY too dumb to live it turns out and should’ve you know made a noise sooner and probably didn’t want to ruin the suprise.. but we still nearly got an episode where a 4 year old had surivviors guilt for letting her older sisters boyfriend suffocate in a box. That’s dead santa from gremlins levels of fucked up. Thankfully Lori loves it and I assume bobby’s worried family joined them for christmas eve. That image fills my heart with hope. But seriously bobby never again we can’t loose you. At least not before Sergio. 

Leni: Leni’s is very simple it’s just a running gag of her taking various christmas things, making them into outfits then saying shhhh to whoever’s around when she hears, or in later cases is right there, with the person asking. Just a funny bit.  Luna: Is working on a christmas song. It’s one of the weake runners as the failed songs just aren’t that funny, but the payoff for the main plot makes up for it. WE’ll get to that.  Luann: Has one of my faviorite bits, her 12 puns of christmas which is both really adorable and leads to an adorable moment with her dad. Always loved their relationship. 

Lynn and Lucy: Are teamed up this episode which makes me genuinely miss how the two would be used as a pair ocasionally earlier on but just .. arne’t anymore> The rest of the girls status as roomates is used liberally but not so much these two. IT’s just weird and disheartning to me. That being said their plot is simply the two digging around to find where the presents are hidden, which I never got as why would you want to know weeks ahead of time. You can’t use any money to buy the stuff you dind’t get or they’ll know and they usually figure out you knew ahead of time and it just brings thigns down. But from a kid’s perspective I guess I get it and while it’s weird to have Lucy be one of the ones following I like it, as it shows that benath her gothy demanor she’s still just an 8 year old girl excited for christmas, and that’s adorable. A decent enough runner. 

Lana: Gets  a good one: She keeps accidently catching people, and a passing car in one case though she has a jack to help, in her reindeer traps. Its not only funny but really adorable especially since she dosen’t care about trapping SANTA persay, she just wants her own pet reindeer and frankly who wouldn’t want a rideable woodland critter who can fly. Dammit now i want one too. 

Lola and Lisa: Lola gets a fairly standard one tha’ts still pretty damn funny; She wants to get offf the naughy list by playing good for a day. What makes it funny is that last part.. that instead of doing it over a few days like most of this plot she’s trying to cram it all into one day while also trying not to strangle Lisa, who keeps showing up to say santa’s route is impossiuble. As ducktales covered he slows down time.. also you know.. not every kid celebrates christmas so ther’es probably a good number of houses he dosen’t have to cover in one night.  Lily: Just randomly pops out of stockings a bit. it’s precioous as it sounds.  The Parents: It had honestly been so long both since i’d seen a season 1 episode, and since the two had been both given actual names and fleshed out considerably, that i’d forgotten Rita and Senior had their faces obscured for all of season 1. It’s REALLY weird and jarring to go back to after getting to know them as fully formed people of their own over the past 3 seasons, and especally gorowing to love Senior, as he’s a loveably goofy dad but without the incompetence of most comedy dads. He can bumble but he’s also genuinely supportive, talented and pulls his weight in his marriage and family.  We do however start to really see their fully formed , full member of the cast perosnalities here: Rita is clearly tired from the sheer amount of shit she has to juggle, but is also nice and warm and while Lynn Sr.’s goofiness was established already, here it’s tempered into his current shape and his love of cooking and through role as the family chef is established. While he was established as cook earlier he goes from someone who’d use frozen food just to get by to a master chef who probably does use a lot of frozen stuff but can make anything taste good and will eventually have his own restraunt. It’s really fascenating to see them slowly emerge. They don’t really have plots themslves, and Lynn’s only real gag is wanting everyone to try his figgy pudding. 

So with the rest of the family covered let’s get to our main plot. Lincoln is sledding.. on the slide out back.. for some reason. 

The reason is simple.. his sled ends up in the yard of Mr. Grouse, their neighbor and old man who yells at louds. Lincoln explains grouse keeps everything that ends up in his yard and has taken a lot from the Loud Kids over the years. So lincoln.. uses the slide to sled.. DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF HIS YARD. 

I’ve been wanting to use pigtail kim since I made that one recently. But her points stands. What?!. I mean Lincoln can be stupid, he’s  only 12 it’s allowed, but usually more out of not realizing what he’s getting into or using kid logic. He’s not this brain dead. That’s Leni’s job. It just feels like plot contrivance. Just have him build some sort of contraption as a makeshift hill and tell the audience he’s doing this because his family dosen’t want him going to an actual hill on christmas or is too busy to take him. There are easier ways than this half assed rube goldberg machine of a setup. So naturally his sled ends up in the yard.. and he calls on Clyde to help....

Now if you’ve been reading my reviews for a while, you know that reactoin is normally reserved exclusivley for this guy. 

But since Rusty was in his larval state with only a few apperances and hadn’t emeerged from his coocoon as the douche I know and love to take pot shots at, there was actually something WORSE. Something more obnoxious. And with far far worse implications. And that my friends was seasons 1 and 2 Clyde.  Clyde in the early seasons CAN be fine, and the self we know now. In fact I wish he interacted with the sisters more as the slumber party episode early on gave him a nice dynamic with all of them and the episode with him and leni was terrific. The problem one there was running gag with him, one character trait that utterly sucked the joy out of the room at best and made him into an unlikeable little shit at worst; HIs crush on Lori.  When she’s around at BEST he has a Master Roshi nosebleed, stammers her name and passes out, something that wasn’t funny the first time and quickly became grating the 80 other times they did it. But at worst, as he is here? He’s creepy, obessevie and worst of all. .a real dick to bobby. Who as we’ve established is...

So that was NEVER going to go over well and even ignoring that is still very bad. The little creep just constantly treats Bobby with hostility, which given this is Bobby, he dosen’t realize is going on. Any time their relationship is threantned Clyde’s main goal is to swoop in during the aftermath and win lori over. He constantly wants Bobby out of the way, The ONE TIME he dosen’t come off as a massive dick is when Lincoln thinks Bobby might be cheating, and that’s because Clyde isn’t planning on swooping into the wrecakge of someone’s relationship to get a girlfriend, but to punch the guy out for cheating on her. Bobby wasn’t and Clyde obviously isn’t capable of that, but it’s a bit more understandable and even CLYDE wants to make sure there’s evidence first. But more often than not he’s just under the assumptino Lori will be his despite the massive age gap, her having made it obvious she’s not intrested, and her being in  longterm relationship she’s really happy in with someone else. And this was season 1 lori who reacted to this, so the fact she’s not being the queen of all bitches about it only makes him look that much worse. And to add to that, Bobby not only KNOWS he has as crush on Lori but is suppportive of clyde, cheering him on when she kisses him once for doing something noble, and generally treating “Clydsdale” like he would any of Lori’s blood siblings. It was excurating then to sit through this every few episodes.. and it’s even worse now because the gag’s complete dissaperance from Season 3 onwards really paints the picture that this gag was entirely because series creator Chris Savino thought this was FUNNY and no one else did. And given he got fired for, you know, HARASSING WOMEN  AND NOT TAKING NO FOR AN ANSWER  you kinda see how an already bad bit was made worse. So yeah while the sled thing is bad this.. is objectively worse and drags the special down more. It’s thakfully not omniprescent but man is it hard to watch.  Clyde being in full dickhead mode is trying to get a kiss from lori and is using a missletoe hat for it.. And can we just agree that while Missletoe can be used well in stories, to help two shy people finally kiss or to ramp up romantic tension or what have you, that it’s often used by creepy douchebags to get kisses they don’t deserve both here and presumibly in irl before the plauge hit? We can? Good. But yeah that’s his plot, no suprise he gets one, bah hum bug. He also throws in some Bobby bashing by fantasising about him ending up in the yard and clyde ending up with lori since Grouse keeps bobby.. even though instead Lori would just ignore clyde, storm over there and rip an old man’s spine out mortal kombat style. 

So yeah Lincoln wants his sled back, but he can’t do it alone as the old man scares him, hence Clyde coming in. They make an elaborate plan using some careful blueprints. 

Their real plan is to have Clyde disract grouse while Lincoln grabs the sled but it fails and mean mr mustard finds it and takes it inside. Desperate, Lincoln prepares to do some crimes and head into his house. Clyde is afraid he’l end up in jail and never get to visit because only family can. Clyde you are family. Plus Prison visits aren’t limited to relatives only, any show with a character in jail storyline will tell you that. But Lincoln makes a valid point that Grouse stole his property.. I still dont’ think this is the right way to handle it and his parents should just go over and ask the loud, irate asshole to give the kids stuff back he stole to be a dick, but this is a kids show and again we wouldn’t have a plot but unlike last time my head dosen’t hurt from this. He’s desperate, he knows that probably wouldn’t work and again he’s 12. 12 year old logic is fine.  Naturally he ends up getting caught as Grouse didn’t leave for long, though having found a photo of Grouse with a sled as a kid, understandably fires back on him that he wasn’t always like this. Why he like this. He also has the much farier point that again, it’s his property and “My yard my rules” is about as much a legal rule as a note saying “I can do what I want, ron”. But Grouse understandably, hey he’s a dick but the boyd id be and e, makes him clean up and after Grouse fails to get the loud parents Lincoln, via a comination of a charming family photo and Grouse talking to his sister on the phone, finds out the real reason he acts like this: He misses his family and being on a fixed income can’t visit them often as he tells his sister he won’t be home for christmas to see his sprawling family. 

And while it doesen’t excuse his actions.. it does explain why Grouse is so bitter: you would be too if you had a massive family who clealry loved you and your on good terms with.. but through no fault of your own and presumibly despite working hard toa fford retirment you just.. can’t see them. Their there and you have the phone, but you don’t know how to work the internet and it’s just.. not the same as seeing them. Your just seperated from them and can’t be near them or hear their voices or get hugs. Which.. given the current pandemic i’m sure MANY of you can relate to that.. to being seperated from your loved ones and trapped, and especailly many people mr grouses age are facing that. While this special is good even without the context of seeing it this year it especailly resonates and i’m glad I waited this long simply beaause it came at just the right time. Grouse tells him to leave not planning on calling his parents.

So in christmas special fashion, Lincoln is touched byt his story, and feels bad for the old curmudgeon. Sure they don’t get along and the bastard broke his sled.. but again you’d be bitter too in his shoes. The guy has nothing and is alone.. and Grouse has done nothing to deserve that, even with his actions resulting from it. No one should be alone on christmas.  So Lincoln tells his sisters, all of whom rally around him, including Luna whose writer’s block is broken as she finally realizes... 

And not singing about that was holding her back. Luna has her song and Lincoln, as expected has a plan.  And we soon see that plan as Grouse gets a knock on the door.. and finds the Louds, parents included, and The McBrides all there singing him a christmas song. It’s pretty decent and the first time we really get to see Nikka Futterman sing and i’ts beautiful> Ther’ed be better, and worse luna songs to come but this is still pretty neat and sweet. THey came to offer him deocrations, dinner, company.. and a one way bus ticket to his family... presumibly the family will pay the other way or he can easier the day after christmas. Point is he’s touched, and genuinely and sincerly thanks them and invites them in, with Grouse’s actor John DiMaggio REALLY selling it hard. 

So our heroes gather for Christmas Eve all together, and under Grouse’s roof with Grouse giving the kids their stuff back having had a change of heart. Sure he misses his family.. but the Louds and Mc Brides have shown him he dosen’t have to shut everyone out as a result. And while Grouse apologizes tht his sled is gone.. Lincoln’s fine with it he got something better.  So the next morning we end on the kids opening presents, and Lori saving her boyfriend from axphisxiation, seriously between this and strife of the party i’m really starting to sour on lana. Regarldess Lucy finally belivies in santa both due to gifts nd seeing him last night, while Lincoln finds a sled from santa.. and then goes outside to see Mr Grouse off, recognizing he’s the one who played santa in  a really sweet and senitmental bit. The two part on good terms even if Lincoln breaks another window. Things have changed if not that much.  Final THoughts:  If it wasn’t obvious, I REALLY loved this one. While it has it’s flaws, and Chris Savino sucks dirty ass in thunderstorms obviously.. it’s still a really sweet, well constructed special and I really recommend checking it out. It’s on the nick app if you have cable and on CBS All Acess if you have that. Until next time merry christmas to all and to all a good day. 

And if ther’es an episode of the loud house you’d like me to review leave it in the comments or you can comission a review of it for five dollars. Just direct message me to work out the details or send an ask for my discord. 

[smokeonshadows]

Jasmine x Jafar Headcanons

Telling you all rn- I haven’t even watched the Aladdin live action yet and most likely won’t until it’s out on Netflix, but I’m all aboard this Jasmine x Jafar ship because I’m trash.

So here are some headcanons I have based on what I pieced together about the live action remake from looking through the tag:

- Jafar started out as an orphan who was surviving on the streets as a pick pocket. One day, when he was still quite young, he picked the wrong pocket and ended up condemned to getting his hand chopped off, but the Sultan happened to be around and pardoned him. Maybe the Sultan saw a spark of something special in Jafar, maybe he was trying to fill the void of never having had a son, or maybe he was just feeling particularly charitable, either way, that day, the Sultan took Jafar in to be raised in the royal palace (hence why he calls the Sultan ‘baba’). While Jafar was being educated, he showed a lot of intelligence and talent and was eventually groomed to be a royal vizier.

- I’m imagining Jafar and Jasmine being pretty close in age with Jafar being ~5-7 years older. Supposing that Jafar arrived at the palace when he was about 9-10 years old, it’s safe to assume that they grew up together. Assuming that Jafar had absolutely no educational background upon arrival at the palace, I’m thinking they were also educated alongside each other.

- As a highly sheltered princess, the few interactions that Jasmine had with other kids her age were not very satisfying. She wasn’t allowed to play sports and any games she played, everyone would let her win. She was treated very delicately and formally because no one wanted to be the one to offend the princess or make her cry. And Jafar, due to his rough, common background, other children of the royal court were either scared of him or were strongly discouraged from hanging out with him. Because of this, most if the time, Jasmine and Jafar would only have each other to play with (assuming that Dalia doesn’t come into the picture until later), which was something that neither of them was very happy about. Jafar, being older, felt that he had better things to do than entertain the little princess, and Jasmine just thought that Jafar was too serious and no fun at all. Nevertheless, Jafar would treat Jasmine normally and Jasmine wasn’t afraid of Jafar. Even though they were never best friends, they are the ones who know each other best.

- The reason why Jafar shuts Jasmine down so much isn’t because he thinks that she’s incompetent or incapable, but the very opposite- he grew up with her, studied alongside her, he knows her better than anyone else, he’s witnessed how strong and brilliant she really is and that threatens him and all that he’s been working so hard for. Which brings me to my next points...

- The real rivalry at the heart of the story is (or at least should have been) between Jasmine and Jafar. A lot has been made about Aladdin and Jafar being set up as foils to each other, but I could also see parallels between Jasmine and Jafar, mainly that they’re both misfits in the palace and despite being the most qualified people, they’re both being passed up for the throne.

- That said, I like to think that they struck up some sort of alliance/partnership against whatever suitors are asking for Jasmine’s hand. Jasmine finds one reason or another to reject them and Jafar would be quietly complicit either by sabotaging the suitors or occasionally raising his own objections. It’s in both their interests that Jasmine not marry because her future husband would just be one more person standing in their respective paths to the throne. This, however, doesn’t stop Jafar from turning around and making Jasmine out to be unreasonably difficult and obstinate when she does reject a suitor (as with Prince Anders).

-...But then you get moments like when they exchange glances when Prince Ali comes around. The look that Jasmine gives him can’t be described as anything less than saucy. There’s mischief and complicity in that look. You know that they’re on the same page and they’ve been through this before. You can just see them, every other time before, coming back together after rejecting a suitor and just laughing about it.

- In fact, I could even picture one such moment when Jasmine and Jafar have been left alone after dismissing a suitor and they’re laughing their little heads off together and Jafar looks at her and half-jokingly says something like “At this rate, Princess, I’ll be the only one left to marry you.” And Jasmine, very seriously, replies “No, baba would never allow it. I’ll only marry a prince, or a sultan.” She says this not because it’s true but because she’s afraid that it isn’t. She fears that maybe this had been Jafar’s plan all along, she fears that if the Sultan somehow gets it into his head that Jafar could be a suitor, because of his favored position the Sultan would definitely marry her off to him and she doesn’t trust Jafar to not use it as an opportunity to take all the power for himself. Jafar, on the other hand, realizes in that moment that 1) marrying Jasmine could actually be the solution to all his problems 2) he wants to marry Jasmine even if the throne wasn’t part of the deal 3) Jasmine doesn’t want to marry him and not only does that hurt, but he thinks that it’s because of his impoverished background (which is something that he’s always been insecure about, and it also explains the bitterness behind what he said to Aladdin about Jasmine just toying with him like she does with all commoners).

- So of course he becomes fixated on this idea. When he actually forces Jasmine to marry him, there’s no real logical motive behind it. He’s already the sultan so theoretically he had no use for Jasmine, but instead of having her killed or locking her up and throwing away the key, he chooses to have a full on wedding, imam and all and vows to protect and look after her always. The only explanation that makes any sense is that he wanted to marry her for love (as confirmed by the actor). And also, I’m headcanoning that it was important for him to have the Sultan witness this as a big fuck you to what (headcanon) Jasmine had said about the Sultan not allowing Jafar to marry her.

Welp, sorry for the long post. That’s all for now! I’m not much of a writer but if there are any fellow shippers out there who want to take these headcanons for fanfic or whatever, I say, go for it!

[dear--charlie]

Dear Charlie,

I haven’t written to you in a long time, it’s been over a year. A lot of stuff has changed but I can’t really say for the better. I’ve written and rewritten this too many times and I don’t feel like telling you all the bad shit that’s happened because it would be too much. I don’t feel like explaining all of the things that got me to this point because nobody cares. I guess the gist of it, as it always is with me, is that I’m sad. I’m so fucking sick of having to say that but there’s nothing else. A lot of the time since I’ve first written to you, I’ve been sad. All the contents of the letters I’ve sent you have been about me being sad. I wish there was something else for me to tell you and I wish I wasn’t running out of ways to say the same thing. I guess I can give you the short version, if that’s possible, about what’s happened.

The last time I’d sent you a letter, I had stopped taking my medications. I didn’t like how I felt on them because they made me feel like a zombie, even though I’d been on them for almost four years (I’m angry it took me that long to figure it out, but that’s another story). I stopped taking them completely cold turkey — no weening or tapering — and hadn’t talked to my therapist in months because she closed her practice (another different story).

I was manic after they were out of my system, so I thought I felt better. When I went back to school in the fall, I ended up spiraling about a month into the semester and barely ended up passing my classes. I’d be too depressed to leave my dorm or really do anything that wasn’t lying on my bed and staring at nothing. It might’ve been the worst depressive episode I’ve ever had, but I can’t really say that because this time I didn’t go to the hospital for swallowing four bottles of pills (even if I’d been planning it). Either way, I dropped out of college.

At the time, I just thought I’d withdrawal for the spring semester. I told my family how shitty I was doing — well, just my brother because he was the one who talked to me most when he’d drive me back to campus after weekends home — and they said that I should do whatever I need to feel better. They didn’t say it, but I think my parents were angry.

I’ve been living at home since. I got a new therapist and I’ve been seeing her for about six months. Recently, she had me book an appointment with the psychiatrist she works with and, let me tell you, having a competent psychiatrist makes it all the more obvious of how incompetent my last one was. Seven years of therapy, medications, and hospitalizations but I could never get a solid diagnosis that felt right until now. It took him a thirty minute session and the notes my therapist gave him — he had a diagnosis by the time I finished explaining my history of mental health. He thinks I have Bipolar Type II — I didn’t even know there was different types but, after he explained, it made a lot of sense to me. I know it might take a while to find a medication or three that can even me out. We’ve already tried one prescription and that ended up making me feel worse, but at least he knows his shit.

There’s other stuff I’m leaving out, either because I forget or I don’t feel like going into it, but that’s the gist. I know the last letter I wrote talked about Jack. Rereading it now makes me feel stupid and talking about it makes me feel weird, but I don’t love him anymore. It’d be downplaying it and invalidating to myself if I said I never loved him at all, but I do feel that way. Things are good with him though, we’re still friends and nothing’s really changed. We kind of just pretend that the whole “I got high one night and confessed to being madly in love with you over text at 3 am” thing never happened and, I have to say, I’m glad.

Everything else is pretty much the same, so I guess this is gonna sound like every other letter I’ve sent. Except, this time, I don’t have the energy to make it sound beautiful. I did that a lot, I know. I would type out every ugly thought in my head and tried use words so beautiful that maybe people reading would forget how horrible what I said was (if people could even stomach to read such depressing shit). I wish I had the energy, I really do, and I’m still going to try; it might not work, but it’s entirely possible that it never did.

You ever talk to your siblings and find out they’re way less traumatized by the way your parents raised you than you are? Because I did recently. My sister and I tend not to talk about personal stuff, but the conversation sparked up anyway. It turns out that, of the three of us, I’m the only one who has a constant, underlying resentment for our parents. I already knew it was different for my brother because he only started living with us when he was sixteen, but I didn’t know that it was different for my sister.

She forgives them for way more and gives them the benefit of the doubt whenever she can. I’ve never been able to do that, at least not for about ten years. I know she has different experiences than I do too, but I thought that she was angrier than she is. That’s just me, I guess. Her relationship with them is good, if not great now; her and mom are the closest they’ve ever been and she’s in an alright place with dad since she was stuck in Virginia for a few months during quarantine. I feel like I’ve never been in such a bad place with them. Ever since I started talking to my new therapist, I’ve started realizing how fucked up the way they raised me was and that it still manifests itself in the things I do. How do I not resent them after that?

She suggested having the three of us sit down with my therapist and talk about it — and that’s just about the last thing I wanna do, but it’s gonna end up happening because I don’t want to hate them. They aren’t bad parents. It’s hard for me to say that, but they aren’t. Lately, since I’ve started thinking about all this, it’s been difficult. I have a really short temper with them now, the littlest things they do can piss me off and it’s next to impossible for me to be in a good mood around them. This didn’t used to happen. Who can say if they notice too? You’d think they would pick up on a sudden, negative change in their kid’s behavior but, then again, they were oblivious to the fact that I was depressed until I told my gym teacher I was going to kill myself.

It can go one of a few ways — either they surprise me by acknowledging what they’ve done is horrible and apologizing whether they remember doing it or not, they cry and make me feel guilty, or they defend what they’ve done and we’re left off in a worse place than before. Either way, they’ll know how I feel and I don’t care for that shit at all. She suggested I write a letter and is holding me to the fact that I wanna do this before the month ends (except I forgot that mom’s going on a week-long vacation starting Monday and then dad is going on a different vacation the same day she gets back, maybe I’ll just do it separately, it’ll probably be easier that way).

The thing is…I feel like, even if they did apologize, I wouldn’t stop being angry. They’ve traumatized me in ways I don’t know if I can heal from and I’ll never know what it’s like to not live like that. What makes it worse, at least to me, is knowing that I’m the only one. They didn’t treat either of my siblings the same way they treated me. I’m the only one they first started calling a slut at age ten. I’m the only one they accused of being pregnant each month  I’m the only one whose stuff they went through and journals they read. I’m the only one they accused of doing drugs for trivial shit like an empty ziplock bag under my bed or going to a costume party. I’m the only one whose messages they’d “sneakily” read. I’m the only one they instantly and consistently assumed was doing something wrong and then punished because of it. I’m the only one they shamed about their weight or humiliated after puberty started. I’m the only one whose interests got made fun of or invalidated when I got excited about them. I’m the only one who was (and still is) held to ridiculous standards for school, even after it was known that I was mentally ill. I’m the only one they’d complain about not having friends, but turn around and refuse to let go to a friend’s house when I’d ask. I’m the only one they’d get angry at for being depressed.

I’d still be angry if I knew they did that to my sister too, because that’s just a fucked up way to treat a child, but it makes me even more angry that it was just me. Because, what the fuck? I never gave them a reason to not trust me. Shit, the craziest thing I’d done as a kid was make a “potion” out of rainwater and berries in the backyard (and it’s not like that’s an exclusive thing, I know tons of people who did that too). The craziest thing I’d done as a teenager was want to die, but that was after all this had started — even if it wasn’t, that’s not an excuse, they shouldn’t be mad at me for having mental health issues.

But, I’m still dealing with the repercussions of all this. I can’t think about sex without feeling so guilty I want to hurt myself, I can’t see them near any my things without being paranoid they’re going to go through them, I can’t fucking do or say anything when I’m around them without being worried their reactions will be to humiliate or try to punish me. I’m twenty fucking years old and I still think like that.

So, I don’t want to talk to them. I know I’ll never stop being angry without an apology (if I can stop being angry at all), but that’s the thing about instilling communication issues in your child because they’re so afraid of how you’ll react that they decide never to share anything at all — they don’t wanna talk to you about anything! I don’t wanna talk to them but I know I have to, because my therapist said, eventually, I’ll hit a wall that will prevent me from ever moving forward with them. I already see it happening, but I’d be lying if I said that helps at all.

Love Always, The Reversed Star 07 | 24 | 20 P.S. yeah, I’m using a new pseudonym again

[lucatorahaven]

vampire au post

4 skype convos haphazardly mixed in from very different times

[29/11/2014 4:27:51 AM] Probably Not Assorted Cheeses: Vampire au

Lucas the incompetent vampire who eats mostly animals

Duster was the one who bit him, only bc duster was literally starving n lucas came at a bad time

idk if duster should be born a vampire or not but Wes is one too and together they taught lucas how to survive.

however eventually they had to leave, they offered for lucas to join them but lucas can’t leave his family behind, the kid’s too sentimental :’(

so together they staged his death (which im too lazy to try n think of)

claus knew bout the vampire thing tho, lucas couldn’t live alone like that. He also ended up biting Boney in an accident so hey vampire dog.

claus grew up and eventually had his own family. Lucas could only really watch from afar but then the kids got his age and it was hard to see him and keep the gig up. He visited his parents funeral anonymously and afterwards him and claus stood there just

“sup” “how’re the kids” “twice your age and with kids of their own” “heh, i always thought you would be the one with kids yano?” 

it was very bittersweet, it felt like they’ve never been apart 

“it never stops feeling strange without you” "I know” 

lucas thinks of that conversation a lot

he started off the "younger uncle" then the "weird neighbourhood kid that visits grandpa claus" and inevitably the "weird kid from nowhere who goes to the cemetary every other month to put flowers on graves older than appears to be"

SO without attachments lucas traveled with boney, hoping that they find duster along the way.

eventually lucas comes back to tazmilly but it’s been a couple hundred years now and it’s completely different so he doesn’t recognize it

n lucas one day is caught outside with no shelter, it’s almost morning so he runs into osohe (which is way outta town so he assumed it was abandoned)

vampires can’t enter homes without being invited in because apparently homes are holy land but osohe is fuckn haunted so that doesn’t apply (adding on to the abandoned theory)

that’s how kumatora and him meet, she finds him exploring osohe all “wtf the fuck who are YOU...this me house”

So she gets an awkward lie explanation from lucas 

n she eventually catches on lucas is a vampire n is just DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDE I NEVER MET A VAMPIRE BEFORE FUCKN SWEET

lucas is just UM.;;; IS IT OK IF I STAY

"oh dude it's cool!! but u gotta tell me bout yourself bc i never met a vampire before ok?? i live iN THE PERFECT GOTHIC HOME BUT THERE’S NONE!! but here you are and i’m JACKED i gotta go to work tho so brb but afterwards u gotta tell me about yourself ok CYA"

lucas is still processing everything by the time she leaves, but he’s grateful and figures a conversation is the least he can do to repay her

in this au kumatora’s into cryptology bc her house is FULL of books and it’s a common subject (also the fact her castle is filled with ghosts and there are zombies just across the moat, it’s a p convenient hobby)

when she comes back she’s super excited because he’s still there 

lucas is kinda reserved but he still answers questions bc it’s POLITE

she asks bout p much everything?? “HEY do you need that” “y-yes” “is this true?” “not that i know of” “ok experiment time” “uH;;” “wait am i keeping you up?? it’s still daytime” “no it’s okay” 

after exhausting lucas of all his Vampire Facts kuma invites lucas to live at osohe castle, it’s big enough anyways

lucas is wary af bc he doesn't wanna accidentally get close to someone who 1. has a life span and 2. is technically food

but lucas ends up sticking around anyways, boney really likes it and he lowkey enjoys her company

so they keep chillin n lucas tells her how he hunts animals n how he only takes a bit of blood so they don't die and 

IDK I GO BY THE THEORY THAT VAMPIRES HAVE VENOM bc otherwise their entire food source becomes COMPETITION n they can bite but not?? TURN THEM INTO ANYTHIng so controlled blood flow for feeding purposes

also vampires only need to eat once or twice a month? they die around 6+ months without eating from starvation. It all depends on how quickly the blood cells in their body die basically.

ALSO when they bite you it doesn’t hurt bc their saliva numbs it so (sneaky bites) but it still feels weird as shit

bUT YA SO LUCAS N KUMATORA CHAt a whole bunch...you know that “accidentally get close” thing i mentioned? it happened

(it was kinda hard to avoid when the first companion you have that’s not your dog is informed on vampires and vampire goods, that was convenient)

so they keep hangin out and kumatora unlocks his Tragic Backstory

n sometimes kumatora helps him feed? like they go out together finding animals n storing blood

n lucas is fascinated with how technology has advanced bc he doesn't really?? go into towns anymore but he fuckn LOVES it

n they play video games n general COOL FUNTIMES

kumatora let’s lucas borrow her labtop to occupy himself and he looks for other vampires or hints of them

(this is under the assumption that osohe can get electricity in a modern au while still being ignored / abandoned)

n when kumatora goes to work he cleans up the castle n tries to show how much hE REALLY APPRECIATES HEr

n lIKE i also go by the logic that vampires do not do the stereotypical “turn into ashes at sunlight” it is a slow progression that takes up to 12 hours until absolutely turned to a crisp 

so basically if he covers himself and wears a shit ton of sunscreen he can chill in the middle of the day for like...a hour or two

and bc kumatora's WORTH IT he visits her at work n she's all LucAS WHAT ARe yO U DoING??   

lookin like a modern goth kid......has a huge red burn on his cheek..

he blames it on how pale/blonde he is “my brother is ginger you know”

kuma gets super worried n he's all bruh it cool i have like..2 more hours until i need to go to a hospital   

n kumas jsuT I GET OFF IN 4 HOURS GO HOME

kumatora invites him to movie nights with her friends n shit

people start calling lucas kumatora's goth boyfriend “never call him that when he's around or i'll murder you”

theyre all rather cool with lucas and find his speech kinda funny?

"wow look at those teeny boppers" "GET A LOAD OF THIS GUY GOD I LOVE IT" “???????????????" kumas friends ask for lucas more all WHAT SCHOOL DOES HE GO TO WHERE DOES HE LIVE "oh he's......foreign B)"

eventually it comes up how lucas doesn’t really want to be a vampire anymore and kumatoras just “dude i can help you find a cure” bc maybe her hobby is a bit Excessive but live your dreams

but ya lucas is just?? constantly wants to visit kumatora n loves her night shifts!! visits all the time they go on hikes a lot n jusT? GETS SO FUCKIGN ATTACHED IT SCARES HIM CONSTANTLY

they sometimes fall asleep on the couch together n when he's all "wow shes so cute.." he realizes how fucking Deep he’s in this and he’s FUCKED

he tries to distance himself but he Can’t Fucking Do It (just like w/ his fam)

whenever he tries to push her away she looks so upset it kills him 

N HE'S IN SUCH A STRUGGLE BC HE'S JUST

SO HAPPY TO BE AROUND HER??????

N LIKE WHEN THEY CUDDLE N STUFF HE'S JUST SO OVERWHELMED BC oh my god heartbeats!! oh my god she's gonna die before me

n lucas really fucking feels the severity of how FUCKED he is when its her birthday n hes just

yes she's gonna age and he's gonna outlive her n they could never realistically be happy even if by some offhand chance she even RETURNS the feelings

N HE HAS TO HIDE HIS CRYING N STUFF BUT KUMATORA HAS  A 6TH FUCKN SENSE FOR DISTRESSED LUCAS SO SHE'S ALL bruh :( whats up

so he opens up to her about his feelings and anxiety and she hugs him through it, it’s kind of a shitty way to confess 

“idk if i can forgive you for deciding that i’m gonna die before you” “are you threatening murder” “that and no way death’s gonna get me, i’m pretty stubborn”

a lil while passes

“you know... i’m okay with becoming a vampire” lucas refuses bc dude.. you can’t even comprehend the weight of immortality.. what if she regrets it 

“to hell if i make my closest friend suffer because of a life span” “hah i guess that’s the same for me”

they drop the vampire topic for the time being and move on to other ones such as... mutual feelings :^)

they’re both romantically inclined i mean... lucas spent 300+ years being a hermit and kumatora had other things to do

so they take it slow, it’s p much the same as before except.. hey...now when i think “man i wanna hold their hand” i CAN

it'd also be really sad and/or cute if the ghosts in the castle some of them were lucas's family which might be why boney likes it so much but also imagine them kissin on the couch "kuma ghosts r there" "EH THEYRE JUst ghosts" ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) claus looks into the camera "after so long... finally my little brother gets some action :')"

but idk if that’s a thing bc it feels kinda weird i feel like kissin n shit wouldn't b very often bc as much as they both loVE IT 

IT'S NOT THAT GREAT FOR A VAMPIRE

YANO.... HEARTS R BEATING... NECK IS RIGHT THERE (lucas still adores it tho)

so back to the topic of Mortality

kuma gets attacked in an alley on the way home from work

n lucas finds her bc they were gonna meet up but he smelt the blood and when he does find her he just goes FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK n didn't know how to save her 

also thinking rationally is hard when OH LOOK AT ALL THAT BLOOD AHhaHA

SO HE BITES HER

he carries her body home n he spends the whole waiting process between DEAD and VAMPIRE crying just "hoyl shti please work please work" “what did i fucking dooooo” “what if i was earlier” “what if i was too late” so many anxieties

kuma wakes up and lucas transistions from panic to HAPPY PANIC OH THANK GOD

she’s really out of it bc of the process and he’s crying apologies “it’s okay you saved me” but he’s still crying, they cuddle for comfort

"hey atleast we did it NOW when i'm a hot sexy 19 yr old and not a wrinkly old lady” “kuma” “i’m tryna make light of the conversation”

so now that kumatora’s a vampire she only works night shifts until she eventually quits. They moved to a new town / whatever so it was easy to avoid having to meet someone in the daytime. facebook helped keep in touch with her friends while still letting the friendship die out.

it took kumatora a bit to get used to being a vampire. she threw up a lot at first and she didn’t like having to drink blood but she did eventually get used to it

idk if they find a cure bc idk what the cure would BE but they eventually find other vampires :^) they continued lucas’s search for duster and probably found him tbh

[hippychick006]

15.11: The Gamblers - Episode Review/Recap

This ep follows directly on from last week.   The episode was very mixed, there were 2 distinct storylines that merged at the end.  I had a few issues with the Castiel/Jack side of the story, which I’ll cover later, but the Sam and Dean scenes, for the most part, I was able to enjoy.  I even caught myself smiling… fucking smiling at several moments, because this?  This was a glimpse of what my show once was.  This also explains to the “Just stop watching” brigade why I’m still watching.  The brother scenes were a nugget of gold amongst the dross and worth watching for.

Thank you, Davey Perez, Meredith Glynn and Director Charles Beeson for reminding me, albeit briefly, why I fell in love with this show, and at the same time, why I dislike much of Dabb’s run, which in my humble opinion hasn’t just veered the ship slightly off course; it crashed into an iceberg in 11.21 and has been slowly sinking since then.  I think last week’s episode brought us to the point where half the ship is now vertical, ready to plunge into the depths of the icy ocean...  

...Anyway, enough about sinking ships, the key thing I struggled with going into this episode is the obvious fuck up from the previous week; the entire premise of the Winchester’s losing their “luck” and being reduced to “normal” people, and I want to talk rant about that for a few more minutes before we get onto this episode.  If you want to skip that, I’ll put start and end of rant, so you can skip forward.

Start of rant

In order to enjoy this episode, you pretty much have to ignore much of the previous episode and… that doesn’t sit well with me.  Last week wasn’t just a single scene you can forget ever existed (e.g. the trench-coat scene or Dean’s apology to Cass).  What Dabb did fucked with the entire concept of the show; that the Winchesters are ordinary people who do extraordinary things.  So, it’s really difficult to shake that epic fuck up off and just move on.

I just can’t ever buy in to the concept that the Winchesters were “favoured” or have more luck than “normal” people.   I mean look at Sam’s life for starters; he didn’t know his mom, he was fed demon blood as a baby, was dragged up in a life he hated, constantly moving, being brought up in crappy motels and forced to train to become a hunter.  The love of his life is murdered, and he becomes an orphan at 22.  He died at 23 (for the first time) and then he loses the last remaining member of his family at 24.  The Winchesters are far from “lucky” and if I could be bothered, I’d go looking for mentions of “with the Winchester luck” that have been peppered throughout the series.  Chuck has not “favoured” the Winchesters at all and they haven’t had Charmed lives because of Chuck’s interference.

I also can’t buy into the concept that the Winchesters are anything other than “normal” in the first place.  Sadly, they showed last weeks “fight” scenes during the recap and it did nothing, other than enrage me again.  Sam and Dean are excellent fighters and hunters because they trained from a young age to be as good as they are.  They weren’t “given” anything and certainty not a free ride and fuck Dabb once again for writing that bullshit.  It was nothing less than petty because we rejected his instant Hunter!Barbie fiasco that wasted too much of season 13.

So, how do I move forward from that and manage to enjoy this episode?  The answer in my opinion, is you can’t, because even with a few good brother moments, the entire premise of this week’s episode fails to make sense, because the previous episode fails to make sense.  I’ll cover why that is when we get to the pool game.

End Rant

The episode opens on a recap, and I ask myself why they are using all the bad bits from the previous few episodes, before I remember there weren’t many good bits to select from.  That clip of Jensen with the teeth is still funny. 😂

I love the intro again this week.  The setting was good, the guest actors, the camerawork, the music choice – North to Alaska - which complimented the scene, rather than felt like nails being dragged down a chalkboard.  All classic spn so far, so it has my attention.  

Two men (Joey and Leonard) are playing a game of pool and you can tell this is a high stakes game from the get go.  What the stakes are, we don’t yet know, but when the game ends, we see 2 coins being held in a contraption above the pool table; one glows green then dulls with the coin head disappearing, the other glows green and gets brighter with the coin head gaining in definition.  I don’t think this looks good for the loser.  He agrees and tries to attack the winner with his pool cue.  He’s stopped from doing so by a bouncer who turfs him outside.  👋 cutie tall bouncer.  There’s an absolutely great shot of the loser tossing his coin in the air and the music gets loud again (Hey, I’m here as much for the settings, lighting, music and camerawork as I’m here for the Winchesters – sue me) and then…. Splat.  He’s hit by a truck.  Poor Leonard, red shirt of the episode.  RIP my friend.

As an aside, I like how you guys announce which pocket the 8 ball is going into, we don’t do that.

This was a great into, interesting premise that immediately sucked me in, wanting to find out more.  This is my show.  Great job so far.

The next scene though shows once again how useless, at least for me, the writing is around Castiel.  They wrote an entire scene with him walking into the bunker, seeing a note that has been left, going down to read it “Cass, we’ve gone to Alaska, Sam”.  I’m not going to rant about the twats that insist on saying Sam has spelt it wrong, I’ve already done a post about the arrogance of fans trying to tell the show that created the character that they are wrong with the spelling of that character, so I’ll save you by moving on.

This entire scene, while I liked the shots of the otherwise empty bunker, was just wasting time for me.  I’ve seen people say Sam left a note because Castiel was in heaven and wouldn’t get a text message and how clever of Sam to resort to paper.  I don’t know about anyone else, but I dip in and out of WiFi zones all the time and the moment I dip back in, my phone pings with multiple notifications, so I personally thought this scene was dumb.  It would have been better to see Castiel appear back at the sandpit and get a text notification from Sam with the same message.    

Even better, you could take this scene away and it changes nothing that happens so why include it?  *Whispers* J2 wanted time off and the writers are incompetent of filling that space with something more interesting so use “filler”.  

Interestingly, my computer froze on Castiel’s face for 5 minutes so fuck you Norton or Windows 10 Update for your bad timing in running something in the “background”

BROMENT ALERT

We’re finally with what I’m watching the show for.  Dean and Sam are in baby and driving towards Alaska.  Sam’s phone is lighting up with messages and we find out through Dean that it’s Eileen. 🙄. Oh, Eileen’s being shoved into the narrative now?  Sorry Eileen, the third wheel position on the show has already been filled since Season 7. And fuck you again Dabb because I loved Eileen as a friend of Sam and it’s just yet another thing your reverse Midas fingers have screwed over this season.

Dean: Silent mode is always an option

Me: I love you, have my babies… wait, that came out wrong

Eileen thinks the plan is a little too good to be true.  Sam thinks she might be right.  He’s not convinced the place even exists or that it can fix their problem. Dean thinks it couldn’t hurt and he’s done with normal, including the constant heartburn.

Sam: You know if you changed your diet….  Dean’s frown 😂

Sam insists that no one other than Garth has heard of it and it isn’t in the lore. Dean believes it’s got to be there. He believes Chuck isn’t messing with them,

Dean: He [Chuck] wants us off our game, he wants us weak, ‘cos he’s coming for us Sammy, and when he does, and we haven’t figured this out, we’re DOA.

Mostly a great brother scene, apart from the forced insertion of Eileen – are we incapable of getting a broment in the final chuck damn season, without the completely unnecessary forced inclusion of a third party???!  The scene ends with a great shot of baby.

Back at the bunker and Castiel hears a phone ringing, and… I’m trying not to nitpick, but the way this case comes about just annoys me. There are better ways of bringing this about, than how they did it. But moving on, Castiel answers a random phone that was ringing in Sam’s room, and it’s a sheriff (Jeb Evans) looking for FBI agent, Watts. Castiel tells the sheriff that Agent Watts is working a case in Alaska, and that he is Agent… Lizzo.  I can only assume Dean gave him that alias as I don’t think Castiel would know any musicians on his own.  I like Jeb, who tells Agent Lizzo, they have a homicide and the suspect is someone Agent Watts flagged into the system… and guys… Sam is back to hacking into police systems and I just… I need a moment here as they’ve remembered Sam can hack into systems!

The agent tells Castiel that the suspect is Jack Kline.  

Ummm… Castiel, are you... okay?  Do you… do you maybe need to use the bathroom?  Oh, you’re emoting?  Okay dokay then.  I can’t with this.  I got more out of Leo in the less than 2 minutes he was on screen than I got out of Castiel since his return in season 7.  

Back with the impala, which rolls into a diner stop.  Sam is asleep, and Dean whacks him to wake him up.  Sam wonders why they’ve stopped at “Round up café”.    Dean says it’s the last stop for food for a few hundred miles.

Sam (frowns): Grab something out of the cooler

Dean: Yeah, no, I polished off the last of the sandwiches while you were out

Sam (annoyed): We’re on a budget!

Me (sighing): platonic soulmate Husbands! 😍

Last weeks puppy dog eyes fiasco aside, Dean’s still wrapped round Sam’s fingers, they enter the diner, slap some coins on the counter and ask what they can get for $4.60.  Apparently, it’s a slice of pie and a coffee, and I’m moving to Alaska when they secede from the US because that would barely get you just the coffee here.

Dean asks for two forks for the pie

Me (sighing): platonic soulmate Husbands! 😍

Long story short on this scene, they get out of the waitress there’s a local urban legend about a magic poolhall in the middle of nowhere, that if you win, you come back lucky.  She says though that no one ever comes back.  Turns out she knew Leonard from the intro, and he went up there because the bank was going to take his house and he met with an accident.

Sam says at least they know now what the downside is.  Dean doesn’t agree, he thinks it could be great, pool is the game of champions, kings, his game, our game, and they have great memories of hustling pool

Sam: yes, because we had to… to eat!

Still not seeing the “luck” Dabb wrote about.  Imagine thinking they were remotely lucky; running scams or hustling pool to put a roof over their head or food in their stomach. And this is where I disconnect with this week’s episode, because of last week’s writing. How are they going to even be good at pool, a game that takes practice and skill?  The things taken away seem to be random and plot devices; lock picking, fighting, hot metal burns, while it appears Dean can still drive okay, fix baby and I’m guessing their pool is going to be okay too, otherwise what’s the point of this episode?  There’s no believable rules to this “bad luck/normal” and I’m left completely drifting and because of it.  It's just badly thought out and executed.

Dean: if pool is the way we get our mojo back then maybe we ain’t as screwed as we thought

Waitress: Hey, you guys drive an impala?... I think you guys have a flat.

😂

Back with Cass and sheriff Jeb, Cass has managed to set up the laptop and access a video the sheriff has sent him.  The video is of Jack killing a doctor and eating his heart. 😷 Jack, no!  I’ll come back to the heart eating later.

Back with the boys, another shot of baby as they pull into “Lurlenes”.  Baby isn’t sounding too good and I think I missed that earlier, but it did somewhat register that she was sounding louder than normal. Good touch.

Dean walks over one of the coins as they head for the entrance which I guess might be Leonard’s from earlier.  I like little details like this.  Once inside, Sam points out they don’t have beer money, much less what it costs to buy into a game.  Dean says they’ll figure something out and goes to the bar and orders two waters. I’m guessing that’s going to hit Dean more than health conscious Sam.  Dean asks the bar person, Evie, how they get into a game.  She calls Pax over and it’s the tall, cutie bouncer from earlier.  Sam asks Evie if she saw Leonard and she says no, but you can tell she’s lying.

Pax takes them to his office and explains the rules of the game, that they don’t bet with money, they bet with luck.  He gets Dean to touch a coin he puts down and it turns green.  Pax looks at the coin and says “not great”

Dean: And that means?

Pax explains that everyone walks in with a certain amount of luck, that the green glow was Dean’s and it was “about average.”  Dean thinks that sounds about right.  I’m going to head-canon that Dean’s luck is about average of the people that find the pool hall, but below average in general, due to Chuck screwing around with them.

Pax says if Dean wins a game, he might see his fortunes improve.

Sam: And if he loses?

 Pax says he can keep playing, but if the coin goes blank, that means you’re out of luck, and you’ve got to leave.  He asks if they’ve got any questions.

Sam (a bit pissy): What is this place? Who owns it?

Pax says he doesn’t know, but if they don’t like it, they are free to leave.

Dean: When I win, can I split it (indicates Sam)… the luck?

Pax (sighing): platonic soulmate Husbands! 😍 Oh, wait, sorry, that was me

Pax: it’s yours, you can do what you want

Sam asks for a second to talk to his husband brother.

Sam: no, no, no, no, no way (complete with shaking finger)

Dean: man, I’ve been slinging pool cues since before you were born

Snarky!Sam: when you were four, really? In between snack time and nap? 😂

Dean (internally): damn, I forgot you were my brother for a second and I can’t bullshit you

Dean tells Sam that they need to do this, and that Sam is pretty much better than him, at everything, he’s not mad about it, he’s proud… but he can wipe the floor with Sam at pool.  Dean takes Sam’s epic eyeroll as silent permission he can play.

Back with Castiel, he investigates the doctor’s office and finds a weird case which has a sword inside.  We flashback to a previous episode with Sam tied to a chair (🙄 it must have been a Thursday).  Anyway, the flashback tells us the doctor was one of the Grigori, a brotherhood of perfect beings.  I’d forgotten about them and might have to look them up before I touch the heart eating thing. Note: I did look them up and it was a Claire episode, so never mind, that’s why I forgot about them.

We transition from Cas to Jack and he seems to be following someone with the same case as the doctor, so another Grigori.  He follows the Grigori into an abandoned building.

Back at the pool hall and no one is biting to play with the noob.  Okay, I’m ashamed to say I laughed at this next bit, Dean deliberately breaks badly and loudly proclaims that he’s rusty at this.  Oh Dean.  No one’s going to fall for… Surprisingly he actually gets a taker and asks Dean to rack up.  Sam goes back to the bar to speak to Evie.  She asks if he plays and he says not really.  Sam asks Evie what the woman’s deal is that’s playing Dean (Moira).  Evie says she’s been here a while and her sister is in a coma.

Sam goes into awkward question mode, and I have flashbacks to the earlier seasons. He asks about rotten eggs.  Evie responds: Just Charlie…   We pan over to Charlie and he’s playing pool badly. Sam then asks if she’s seen “little bundles” laying around.  She says no, but she gets that he’s trying to figure the place out.  Sam says places like this don’t exist for no reason, she answers that most people think it’s a godsend.  She gives him information on a couple of people playing, they won at first, could have walked away winners, but kept playing until their luck ran sour. She repeats they should have walked away which is a clear warning for Sam who looks over at his brother who wins the game.

Back with Jack, he’s got an angel blade and is still after the Grigori. Unfortunately, the Grigori twigged he was being followed and now has Jack at blade point.

Back at the pool hall and Sam is trying to convince Dean they need to leave, and I’m trying not to be distracted by the picture in the scene behind them.

 Dean (brandishing his coin at Sam): Come on man, I’m on a roll

Snarky!Sam: Dean, you won one game!

Sam thinks the place sucks you in and that if Dean keeps playing, he’ll lose and end up like Leonard.  Dean convinces Sam who reluctantly allows him to have one more game.

Me (sighing): platonic soulmate Husbands! 😍

Dean finds his mark, which is Joey from the intro.  We see Dean playing well and Joey asks what his name was again.

Dean: my name is Dean Winchester and I am going to kick your ass.

Sam: 😍 that’s my platonic soulmate husband brother

Joey smiles.  

They talk as Dean clears the table.  Turns out Joey used to work the bull riding circuit.  

Dean (cocky smile): tell me, how was that?… corner pocket.   He misses the shot

Joey (grinning): good times (he pots and all he can do is hide the cue ball behind another ball, giving Dean a very tricky shot on the 8 ball)… and some not so good.

Dean goes to take the shot and Joey challenges double or nothing if Dean misses. Sam doesn’t like it.  Dean asks if Joey is trying to hustle him.

Joey: I thought you were going to kick my ass

Dean smiles and agrees to the deal, does a trick shot with the cue ball jumping over the other ball and potting the 8 ball.

Joey closes his eyes.  Sam looks happy, then Joey says: a hell of a shot.  

Dean watches as the coins glow green and Joey’s coin is now dull, and this is sad because even if Sam and Dean haven’t realised the implication yet, Joey is not long for this world.  Joey leaves, and Sam and Dean follow.  Joey congratulates Dean on the game yet again and says, “I guess you can’t hustle a hustler.” Sam’s concerned when Joey starts coughing.  Turns out Joey is dying, he has cancer, he came to the pool hall to beat it, and Sam and Dean have finally caught up with me that this game sucks.  This is the first time in a long time, I’ve felt anything for a character on this show that we only meet for a limited time in a single episode, so I’m going to kudos the writing and the guest star for this one. This is what happens when you actually put some characterisation into your writing.

Sam and Dean go back inside.  Dean said the plan worked so they should hit the road.

Sam: What about everybody else?

Sam wants to stay and figure out how they can help them. Dean reminds him they are in a fight with God and they just got their mojo back.  Sam challenges whether there’s even enough luck in the coin for them. Dean says they’ll give it a try by him going for a drive and if baby’s okay, they are leaving.  End of.

Back with Castiel and he meets sheriff Jeb at the abandoned building Jack was captured in. A transient spotted Jack going into the building so called the police. Castiel asks Jeb if there are any other abandoned places around. Jeb tells him about a church.

Back with Sam and he’s talking to Charlie, who is apparently playing so his team can win the Super Bowl and part of me is 😂 and part of me is, I feel you my friend, because Canucks and the Stanley Cup, and desperate measures at this stage.  

Sam: that’s great, it is, but is it really worth your life?

Me (picturing the Stanley cup being paraded through the streets of Vancouver): …Yes?!

The puppy dog eyes fail again, Charlie says “just one more game.” And goes back to playing

Evie says at least Sam tried but no one will listen.  She says none of “us” are going anywhere.  Sam asks if they are trapped here, if Evie was trapped here.   She leaves rapidly.

Dean arrives back, baby’s dead again, he didn’t even make it out of the parking lot. Sam takes a look at the coin Dean slams down.  He believes Dean should have won more luck than he did, given how many people Joey likely beat before Dean played him and all that accumulated luck should have gone to Dean when he won, but it doesn’t seem to.  Sam thinks someone is stealing the luck, skimming off the top.  

Dean: You mean like the house?

Sam (lifts coin showing head): her… I think

Dean takes the coin and reads: Atrox Fortvnta

Sam says she’s the Roman goddess of luck.  So, Sam’s allowed to be smart as a plot contrivance this week?  *cough* hot metal burns *cough*.  

They go speak to Evie about who runs the place.  She says she can’t help them. Sam asks why she warned him in the first place.  Evie says so he would take his brother and go.    Dean asks why Evie is there, does the god have something over her. Evie says she played and lost and is only alive because she lets her stay as long as she keeps working.   Sam asks if the god is here, but Evie doesn’t know, she only talks to Pax and drops the revelation that Pax is the god’s son.

Back with Jack and the Grigori has injured him and holding him captive. He knows what Jack is and that he’s powerful.  The Grigori wants to know why Jack killed his kind.  The Grigori have their own frequency of angel radio. Me, 🙄 of course you do because easy plot device.  Before his brother died, he called to the Grigori.  He asks Jack if he did that to draw him out, to kill him too.

Back with Sam and Dean, Sam approaches Pax wanting to ask a question. While Pax is focused on Sam, Dean grabs him and holds him at knifepoint.

Sam (niceness gone): Where’s your mom?

Loved that bit

Pax doesn’t answer so Sam shouts “Fortuna.”  Dean follows with, “We have your son”

 Moira walks through the pool hall and we know she is now Fortuna.

Sam says they know she’s skimming luck and they want it back.  Dean threatens to kill Pax if she doesn’t

Fortuna: well, you probably could, his daddy was human, but no

Pax (shocked pikachu face): Mom!

Fortuna: I’m sorry baby, I can always make more sons

Sam and Dean (shocked pikachu faces).  

Uh oh, leverage gone. Dean releases Pax, but not before the blade cuts his throat a little.

Dean demands Fortuna to play him for it. She says she’s already played him and got a read on him.  He’s just a “beach read”.  Sexy, but skimmable.

Dean (how dare you face): beach read? lady, I’m Tolstoy

Fortuna laughs and says, “That’s very funny” and approaches Sam: this one here, now he could be interesting

Dean (Protective big brother mode activated): Wait, no, no, that’s…. Uh uh

Sam (I’m 36 years old Dean, not a kid anymore mode activated): Fine… Yeah, okay, but not for our luck.  I’ll play for the lives of everybody in here.

Fortuna doesn’t agree, she says the deal is only for their luck and if they lose, she wants their lives.  She wants to make an example of them.

The Grigori is torturing Jack, cutting his skin.  Jack says he can’t kill him.  There’s then expose on the Grigori feeding off souls, and this one feeds off children. I think I’m supposed to not feel sorry for the Grigori when Jack eats his heart, but I do have a few issues which I’ll come onto later.  Jack looks to the side and it’s clear he catches something.  The Grigori reaches for his sword and points it at Jack’s throat. He asks who told Jack that.  He answers Death.  

The Grigori senses someone behind him.  Now given the Grigori are supposed to be elite and much more powerful than ordinary angels, I’m embarrassed for this one and have no idea how on Earth this Grigori managed to survive to being last of his kind as even Castiel despatched him fairly easily, without too much of a fight, but “new canon” I guess. 🤷‍♀️

With no tests whatsoever, Castiel releases Jack from his bonds.  I’m presuming one of Castiel random powers of the week is being able to automatically tell it’s Jack.  We get a Cass and Jack hug and I … don’t really care to be honest.  I can’t watch Cass without viewing that awful scene in Purgatory so I’m over him.

Back at the pool hall, Sam breaks, potting 2 balls immediately.  I love, love, love this next bit: as Sam lines up his next shot, we see Dean nodding in agreement, because yep, that’s the shot he would have went for too.   Sam proceeds to knock down a couple more, Fortuna has said a couple of things, but Sam is focusing on the game.  She asks why they need the luck so bad, girlfriend problems? Liver failure? (She looks at Dean here).  Sam answers: “a curse by god” and misses the next shot.

Fortuna: Life’s a bitch and then you die

Me: Hey! That’s my philosophy!

Dean: THE god literally cursed us

Fortuna (sarcastic disbelief): You’ve met

Dean: Yeah, Little guy, squirrelly as hell

Fortuna: Yeah, that’s him… well, welcome to the club

Dean: the club?

Fortuna answers with exposition while winning the game. God created the world, but humans created the gods, kind of, which led to God creating the other gods. Dean asks why, which makes her angry and she misses the next shot.  She says they were created to take the blame for anything that went wrong.  That only worked for a while before his ego got the better of him, now he hides behind whatever religion pays the biggest syndication deals.  She keeps talking about how pissed she is and that she’s holding a grudge.  Sam meanwhile is quietly potting balls and winning the game.  She realises this and shakes off her mood, “oh well, what can you do?”

Dean: we’re going to fight him

Fortuna: are you now?  And when you lose?

Sam’s voice from off screen: we lose swinging

He then appears in shot and says “8 ball, corner pocket” and she realises the game is nearly over.

Sam lines up for the shot, looks at Dean briefly, then… he wins.  I wasn’t expecting that, and Dean is happy too.

Fortuna (to Sam):  you little minx, you got me talking!

Sam smirks

Fortuna: you’re good

Sam: I learned from my brother

Dean approaches: all right, you know the deal, even up

Fortuna offers to make it interesting, if they are going to fight God, that’s the stuff of heroes and they are going to need the luck of heroes.  Hercules, some other people, she helped them all.  Sam asks what the catch is. She says another game, double or nothing.  

Dean: Double?  That’s how the cowboy died.

Sam agrees to play, “but not for more luck,” he indicates the room, “for them.  If I win, you have to let them go.”

Fortuna: I’m not stopping them

Sam: Okay, when I win, you have to give back the luck you stole, close up shop

Fortuna: What is with you and these losers?  They’re nothing, they don’t matter

Sam: they matter to me

Dean: they matter to us

Everyone in the poolhall (sighing): platonic soulmate Husbands! 😍

Fortuna agrees.  She breaks, and it all goes downhill from there.  Sam doesn’t even get to play a shot.  

They lost. There’s silence

Fortuna: you challenged the goddess of luck in her own joint, what did you think was going to happen?

Me: pretty much this tbh, I’m actually surprised Sam won the first game

Dean: well, we had to try

Fortuna: well, that was stupid

My poor boys.  They leave the poolhall.

Dean: I thought she was going to kill us

Sam: well she doesn’t have to, our luck will do that on its own … Dean, we can’t just…

Dean:… leave ‘em?  Yeah, I know.

Me (sighing): platonic soulmate Husbands! 😍

Dean: all right, well let’s go get WiFi and see what kills Lady Luck, we’ll circle back

Sam’s agreeing when Evie comes out, followed by the other players.  They ask her what happened. She says Fortuna shut it down.  They ask why

 Evie: Because of you, she said she thought your kind had gone extinct

Sam: Our kind?

Evie: Heroes, like the old days

Fortuna also gave her a message to pass on, “Don’t play Chucks game, make him play yours.

She hands Sam a coin which he somewhat reluctantly takes.  He holds it in his closed fist as she walks away.  He opens his hand and we see the coin glow green on his skin.  Dean “grabby hands” Winchester snatches the coin, getting a glare from Sam and the coin glows green in his hand too.

They get into the car and Dean fires up the engine.  “We’re back baby!”  

Aww, Dean called Sam baby.  

Me (sighing): platonic soulmate Husbands! 😍

Also me: You can take your “Castiel is a lamp” sub zero text and whack yourself over the head with it.  

They drive away. And I’m left behind wondering if they’ve got their “normal” luck back or the supercharged hero luck that Sam said he didn’t want and that’s why he was reluctant to take the coin.

They arrive back at the bunker.  Dean’s scratching lottery cards and doesn’t win.  So much for the superhero luck.

Sam consoles his husband brother that they might not have won the lottery, but they have no car trouble, the credit cards work again, and Dean was able to eat back to back bacon double cheeseburgers, that didn’t kill him. So…

Dean: that was beautiful by the way… I’m just saying, would it have killed her to give us a little extra?

Sam: well, she thinks we’re really heroes, maybe they don’t get all the answers

Well hopefully that conversation answered my concern from earlier.

Cass appears, looking shifty (when doesn’t he tbh).  They know something is wrong and Sam asks him.  He steps aside and Jack appears. Jack dorky waves hello and we all melt and immediately forget he killed their mom and did some other really naughty stuff that at the very least should get him a time out.  Apparently, Dean and Sam forget too.    This scene is shot with Jack and Cass at one side of the reading room and Sam and Dean on the other.

Sam: Jack?

Castiel (to Sam): it’s really him

Sam walks over to Jack first and gets quicker as he reaches him and we get a Sam and Jack hug, and since I didn’t get one in season 14, I’ll ignore the mom killing, heart eating etc. for a few minutes and enjoy the hell out of this one. Yes, I’m fickle!  But I loved this nougat eating baby before Dabb ruined him.

Dean walks across more slowly, reaches and grasps Jack behind his neck, staring into his face as if checking it’s really him.  I think he’s struggling to see past the burnt-out eyes which was their last view of him.  He looks briefly at Cass once.  To me it’s a silent thank you (headcanon for bringing Jack back for Sam in particular), and an equally silent, you’re welcome.  Jack looks a little apprehensive as obviously the last time he was alive, Dean was going to shoot him, stopped only by Sam.

They all have a beer at the map table, Sam asks Jack about eating hearts, so it’s good that hasn’t been hidden.  Jack said he had to.

Dean (to Castiel): and you let him?

Castiel nods (likely waiting for the anger for doing the wrong thing)

Dean (shrugs): hmmm

And… that is not my Dean.  They’ve turned him into a neutered house cat and idiots are calling it “growth”.  And all I can hope is that his natural instincts fight their way through, I believe it’s wrong to trust Jack is okay eating hearts, even of ones that eat children’s souls and I hope we see that develop as we progress.

Sam: you could have called us

Jack: every day I wanted to come home, but I couldn’t

Dean: why not?

Jack: because if I don’t stay hidden, if I use my powers, my grandfather, he’ll know I’m back, and try and kill me… again… he’s afraid of me, and that’s why we had to wait.

Castiel: Billy kept him hidden in the empty, until Chuck went off world

Jack: she let me out when it was safe

Dean: safe to what? Eat a bunch of angel hearts?

Jack: safe to do what I have to.  

Turns out the hearts were just the beginning, they made Jack strong, but not strong enough.  If Jack follows her plan, he’ll get stronger and he’ll be able to kill god.

Sam and Dean (in winsync):  bitch please, this is our show!

Not really, that was just me and we end on that note.  I could wish we had ended on “The Gambler” by Kenny Rogers, but season 15 music budget.  Sigh.

So, I have a few other issues with this episode, particularly with the Jack side of the storyline, off the top of my head;  

1)      I’m hoping we aren’t sweeping what he did in season 14 under a rug, a la Castiel.  

2)      I’m hoping we aren’t just going to support him eating hearts (even of bad angels) without fully investigating what this supposed plan is.

3)      I’m struggling with the heart thing anyway. I don’t believe an angel has a heart to eat, only the human vessel does so I’m going to need an explanation on why eating human hearts is supposedly goring to make jack stronger, and why we don’t care about the human vessel

4)      I’m struggling with how a lesser god can give back what God took away, even if that lesser god is the goddess of luck, God still trumps her.  

Other than that, I think Death is bad now, or at least Billy’s version of death is. I think they changed course on wanting to kill the Winchesters a couple of seasons ago when they realised they could play a part in them reaping God. Possible reason, just being tired after all this time, and wanting it all to end. And it can’t end before Chuck dies. Possible power play.

I still think Chuck will die.  I still think the Winchesters will become firewalls, not sure what Jack is, other than a toddler whose power needs to be bound until he can wield it responsibly, and Castiel is going to sacrifice himself at some point. And the less we say about Eileen, the better.

Next episode is up after Hellatus the welcome break from the caricature this show has become 

[yoon-kooks]

In Circles & Shambles

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Spy!AU, meet cute

Summary: Your first mission as a new recruit is to track down your partner with limited communication and information. All you know is that he’s a dumbass with a charming voice and you’re destined to fail.

Prompt: spy!au + “I don’t even know why we’re doing this” requested by anon

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: swearing

A/N: this is my first attempt at writing a spy!au, so enjoy! 🧐👌

✿✿✿

“Welcome, new agent of Bangtan,” you hear your boss say through your earpiece. “Before you can officially set out on missions, we have one last test in store for you.”

“What is it?” They’ve already thrown elaborate disguises, laser training, agility trials, and bomb diffusions your way. You think you can handle anything at this point.

“A partner.” Out of all the things to be thrown at you, you definitely were not thinking it would be a partner. You always assumed you’d be an independent, undercover agent. That was the appeal to becoming one in the first place. You don’t want or need someone else holding you back. “He’s somewhere hidden in the city, and you must find him within an hour.”

You don’t respond.

“Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll connect you with him, so you can communicate via earpiece.”

“Okay.”

“We will be listening in and monitoring your every move, so please stick to these rules: 1) Agent A may speak and give directions, but not move. 2) Agent B may move, but not speak. 3) If you do not find your partner within an hour, both of your contracts will be terminated. 4) Breaking any of these rules will also result in termination of contract.”

“Am I Agent A or B?” You pray that you’re Agent A. You’re much more confident in giving directions than receiving them—especially if only one side is allowed to speak.

“Agent B.” Fuck. “Your time starts now… Good luck.”

As you await directions from your partner, you take in your surroundings: A high school, a recreational family park, a bus station, and your favorite coffee shop. Thankfully you’ve walked the city streets thousands of times, so you’re pretty familiar with the layout of the entire city at this point. It shouldn’t be too difficult of a task as long as your partner knows where he is.

“Hello? Can you hear me?” A low, groggy voice takes over your earpiece. He pauses as if you can answer back without penalty. “Oh right, you can’t talk.”

“…”

“Where are you right now?”

You don’t know if he’s taunting you into speaking, or if he’s genuinely an idiot. Either way, you already despise your partner, and it’s only been a minute.

At the same time, you know you need to cooperate with him. So you look for something with a distinct sound. The nearby park is known for its fancy giant water fountain, and it would be a dead giveaway as to where you are if your partner can correctly identify the sound. You quickly scurry in front of the water fountain, in hopes that your earpiece’s mic picks up the sound.

“Is that water? It doesn’t sound like the beach or a river…” He gives you an occasional hmm, taking his sweet time in thinking it through. “Oh I know. It’s the sound of watering plants. You’re at the City Gardens, right?”

“…” No, no you are not. But you can’t say anything because you’re useless Agent B. You’re only as useless as your incompetent partner.

“If you’re at the City Gardens, then all you need to do is…” He starts feeding you directions at an alarming rate which you can barely keep up with. You want him to shut up because 1) you’re not even at the City Gardens, and 2) even if you were there, it’d be awfully hard to follow his shitty directions. But again, you can’t even correct or clarify with him.

For better or worse, you know the general location of the City Gardens, so all hope is not lost. You mentally visualize yourself in that area and do your best to draw a map based on the directions given to you.

“Did you get all that?” he asks after his directing finally comes to a halt.

Looking back at your makeshift map, it seems to be leading you north of your current location. Whether it’s right or wrong, you don’t really have any other option than to start heading in that direction.

“I’ll repeat it for you again just in case you missed something,” he says, when you’re halfway to his supposed location. Clarifying his directions is the most considerate and responsible thing he’s done so far. And you can appreciate it to some degree, but you wonder why he decided to repeat it so damn slowly this time around. He doesn’t seem bothered that you’re both running out of time.

When he finishes repeating the full directions, you notice a discrepancy in the maps. One little extra turn set the paths off in two different directions. The first one went north, while the new one leads you back to the area you had started in. That means you’re either on your way to your partner, or back to square one.

“I’ll wait fifteen minutes, and if you haven’t arrived yet, we’ll figure something out.” It’s honestly starting to piss you off how he isn’t taking the urgency of the mission seriously. If it were up to you to speak, you’d be using those fifteen minutes to describe alternate routes in case this one doesn’t work out. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t work out.

As soon as you arrive at the location following your partner’s first set of directions, you know someone fucked up big time because you’re standing in the middle of of a McDonald’s. It only takes an employee saying, “Welcome to McDonald’s, how may I help you today?” for you to hear cackling through your earpiece.

“I’m not at a McDonald’s, babe.”

“I fucking hate you,” is what you want to say. Instead, you bite your tongue and order yourself some chicken nuggets which you will not be sharing with your dumbass partner.

“Should I repeat the directions again or-”

You crumble your McDonald’s carryout bag with your fists, and thankfully your partner takes the sound as a hint.

“Alright, alright, calm down.” For as calming as his raspy voice is, you are certainly not going to calm down when your entire spy career is on the line and ready to end in twenty minutes. “Since you’re at McDonald’s, I’ll give you some directions from there and we’ll be good.”

That’d be fantastic if there weren’t ten different McDonald’s locations around the city. You’ll just have to bank on the 10% chance that he chose the right one.

Ten minutes later, you’ve followed your partner’s directions and ended up right back where you started. The only thing you accomplished in fifty minutes was making a giant loop around the city while grabbing some nuggets along the way. At this point, you won’t complete the mission on time if your partner’s not nearby. You feel like a failure, even though you know you would’ve performed so much better if you had a partner you could actually rely on and communicate with.

The no speaking rule is what really did it for you. It doesn’t make any sense to test the communication skills between two partners if only one of them is allowed to speak. Sure, there may be instances as a spy that require stealth and complete silence on one end, but you’re sure the partners would have to establish nonverbal codes beforehand to make it work.

Using that logic, there’s no way to possibly succeed in this mission with the conditions you were given. And with just a few minutes left on the timer, you decide to break the rules.

“I don’t even know why we’re doing this. It’s literally impossible if the communication isn’t two-way,” you groan out of frustration and acceptance of your failure. “Just tell me where you are so at least one of us can pass.”

“I’m right behind you.” You hear a loud sip of something hot both in your earpiece and in the air behind you. When you turn your head, you see a young man with blonde hair stepping out of your favorite coffee shop with a cup pressed to his lips.

“Now, was that so hard, babe?” You’re extra angry because he has coffee and you don’t.

“I mean, no one told you to go all the way to McDonald’s,” he shrugs. He thinks this is funny. He thinks it’s funny that you’re the one with the terminated contract.

“Why wouldn’t you just say you were in that coffee shop in the first place?”

“Am I not allowed to test my partner?” The boy crosses his arms. “I don’t want a partner who always plays it safe and follows the rules.”

“So you wanted me to talk… and fail.” You shake your head in disbelief. How on earth did you get stuck with someone so shitty? “Well congrats. You got what you wanted, I suppose.”

“You didn’t fail,” he says. “I tested you, and you passed—not just in your quick detective and navigational skills, but also in what I need in a partner. Your willingness to risk yourself for the sake of your partner is what every Bangtan agent should encompass. You passed because you broke the rules.”

You blink at him, trying to comprehend what the truth is. “So what you’re trying to say is that you’re not actually an incompetent dumbass who sent me to McDonald’s? You just acted like that to test how I would handle the situation?”

“Uhh, yeah, sure… We’ll go with that,” he nods, eyeing your bag full of nuggets. He’s a dumbass: confirmed. He was totally just fucking with you. And you fell for it.

“So you weren’t a new agent also being tested? You were the one testing me?” You start stuffing your face with nuggets because this is a juicy plot twist you weren’t expecting. “Does that make you my senior?”

“Technically yes,” he says. “But we’ll go with partner. I’m Min Yoongi.”

“Well, I can’t say I’m thrilled to be working with you, Min Yoongi.” You trade him one of your nuggets for his entire coffee. He’s actually quite handsome when you really get a good look at him, but it’ll be a while before you forgive him for the hour of hell he put you through. “But I guess I don’t have a choice, and neither do you.”

“I-”

“You’re stuck with me now, Min Yoongi.” You wave, walking away with his coffee. He might’ve clowned you this time, but you’re sure you’ll be the one clowning him moving forward. Maybe having a partner will be alright.

[rosaliamorais]

a guide to eventually getting framed for murder by the police, probably, as told by rosa.

mentioned: @ivyleagves, @holdenwoodz, @figurchead

Part One ( You. )

Do you have any criminal history? Anything big or small that you want to make us aware of?

“No.” The answer is a little too quick, a little too panicked to seem entirely true. Her nerves are shot, her blood is laced with caffeine. She can’t stop shaking; hopefully they chalk it up to her anxiety. That is, after all, a major part of why she can’t seem to sit still, her usual decorum is lost-- forgotten and left to rot on the forest floor, just as she had been. Just as she’d learned Nathaniel had been. That thought churns her stomach, brings a welling of tears to her eyes. She squeezes them shut for just long enough to clear her vision and not a second more. Closing them for too long is a mistake. Trying to force herself into falling asleep for the past two nights was enough proof of that. Even still, her quick answer boiled down to mostly being about the fact that the other twenty-nine students involved in this case now knew her deepest, darkest secret. Unfortunately for some of the police officers in this very precinct, they knew it too. They just hadn’t needed the blog to tell them. “I have no criminal record. I’d be pretty stupid to pursue law, if that were the case.”

How have you spent the few weeks back at college? What have they been like?

An incredulous gaze lifts from the place her hands are fidgeting on the table, brows furrowing as she tilts her head. “Are you kidding me?” A breathy laugh, cold and unamused. “I’ve spent them in total fear, Elaine.” She says the name with the venomous taste of condescension on her tongue, only to turn to the younger officer immediately after, her expression puzzled. “You’re sure you want to work here, Mikey? I’m pretty sure you’d be better off training under Starsky and Hutch.” The girl who would’ve come into this interview all of a week ago was nowhere to be found amidst her foul temperament and biting remarks today. In spite of the current state of affairs surrounding her reputation, Rosa had always been respectful to the right authorities, even if she felt they were undeserving. 

The person answering these questions retained nothing of that polite, well-mannered mask. “They’ve been horrifying. One day I’m celebrating making it to my senior year, the next I’m worrying about whether or not any of the people who knew Daisey were going to see graduation.” A faux-thoughtful expression crosses her face before she speaks again. “Oh, and then the local police force decided to keep us all on lock-down, like we’re kindergartners on a field trip. And would you believe that it didn’t help anything at all, because four of us went missing under their oh-so watchful eyes? One of us were even murdered? The second one in a month? I don’t know. Maybe, if you ignore all of that crap, it’s been a great last year before for law school.”

Part Two ( Daisey. )

How did you know Miss. Rutherford? What was the nature of your relationship?

“We barely associated. We had a few petty arguments now and then; academic rivals, I suppose.” You guys aren’t asking the right questions. This won’t help anything. The thoughts nearly tumble from her careless lips, only kept back by Rosa’s tightly clenched jaw. “She was a cruel and vindictive sociopath, but I’m sure you’ve gathered that much. Even with your way of investigating. Point is, I didn’t care about her until she went missing. I was just focused on getting into Harvard. I don’t have the time to spare on actively hating someone. Other than being a snarky annoyance, Daisey wasn’t on my radar. Everyone was on hers, though. Girl had no life aside from getting off to the sound of people crying.”

Do you remember where you were the night Daisey went missing? If so, where were you? What were you doing? Who were you with?

“I was at Oz Lamar’s party, same as basically everyone else at St. E’s. I spent part of the night with my gi-- my friend, Ivy Westbrook. We did shots together, I got super drunk, and then I met Holden Woods and we became besties in the bathroom.” She produced her phone in order to scroll through several of their blurry, intoxicated pictures together. “These span over an hour. So, clearly I was having the time of my life, I guess.” At least the change of subject subdued her sudden temper, her demeanor visibly simmering down.

Did you notice anything strange about Daisey’s behavior the night she went missing? Did you notice anything suspicious about anyone else you ran into that night?

“All I remember of Daisey that night is seeing her dry humping someone who was definitely not her fiance.” That’s all she plans to say, before she decides to tell them more before they can demand it. “I saw her making out with someone else. I don’t know who it was, because I’d assumed it was the guy-- is his name Octopus? No, that’s stupid. I don’t know.” She takes a second to collect her thoughts, lips pursed in her concentration. “Anyway, I thought it was him. Clearly, I didn’t want to be privy to a peep show, so I ran through the hall. That’s when I ran into the poor guy. Completely unaware Daisey was hooking up with someone else.”

Where were you the night Daisey’s body was recovered?

“I heard while I was in the grocery store. Everyone around me started talking about it, and someone turned on the TV. Everyone in the store just stopped and stared, horrified. No one wanted to believe it. Regardless of what kind of person she was, she didn’t deserve to die.” Rosa can still recall the look on every single stranger’s face that day. “It was so... quiet in there after the broadcast went off. Not another word was spoken, like an infinite moment of silence.”

How familiar are you with the Ashmont woods? Have you been there often? Have you recently ventured out here? If so, why?

“Fuck you.” She pushes her chair back with a deafening screech of the legs against the floor, poised to get up and leave. An empty gesture, apparently, since she stays in her seat. The room is blending together now, her eyes trying to find something to anchor her to the room, to remind her of where she is. Each of her hands find the lining of her seat, her white-knuckled grip doing nothing to help. She finds herself breathing in uneven patterns, heart palpitating as she tries to distract herself. This is pathetic: one mention of the woods and she’s unraveling, spiraling into a panic attack faster than she’s ever done so before. She’s avoiding either officer’s gaze out of humiliation, unwilling to ask for help. The sound of her own voice calling out that night, begging for a savoir, is an echo in her mind. The concrete floor of the police station suddenly looks a lot like the blood-riddled leaves coating the ground in the Ashmont woods.

You’re okay, you’re safe, you’re here. The voice reminding her of her safety isn’t her own. It’s Ivy’s, gentle and careful and warm, the same words she’d woken up to, after being pulled from a nightmare on the night they spent together. The memory slowly overtakes the one Rosa’s trapped in, the rough edges of the treeline enveloping her smoothing out, fading back into the recesses of her mind as she concentrates on breathing. Her relief is palpable as the comfort of home brings her back to her senses slowly, allowing her to melt into the chair once again. A hand covers her eyes as Rosa motions for the questions to continue and clears her throat. “I’m intimately familiar with the depths of that forest, considering how you and your incompetent officers nearly let me die there, thanks for reminding me.” She broke her words in order to pull in a deep sigh, the only thing keeping her from crying being her adamant desire not to deal with these people for a second time. “I don’t want a break, I’m fine. Keep asking your stupid fucking questions, because I’m not coming back for another one of these.”

Part Three ( the Investigation. )

Do you have feelings towards the investigation? Any comments?

“Just one,” Rosa takes a moment to steady herself before she looks the lead detective in the eye once again, defiance scribbled across her features, jaw set. “Do better before someone finds dead student number three in some storage building.”

Do you have any people you feel the police should look into? Please, let us know who and why.

It’s getting increasingly difficult to answer these inane inquiries, and her expression shows it. “I guess the fiance. I wouldn’t be happy if I found out the girl I was engaged to was sleeping with other people. I don’t know if he knew, so I’d break that to him gently. Daisey was a good liar.”

Part Four ( Weekly Events. )

Where were you kidnapped from? What do you remember of your abduction?

She’s moving uneasily in her chair once again, the only thing holding her facade together the mantra she’s still repeating in her head. Nerves make it hard for her to be angry, the rage from a few moments ago swapped out with unease, her hands back to wringing together, her foot beginning to tap against the floor. “I don’t remember any of that. Doctors said I could’ve blocked it out, or something, but I can’t even remember waking up that morning. As far as I’m concerned, that entire day is gone.”

What details do you recall from the time you were captured to the time you were released?

“Details?” Rosa’s disapproving scoff is half-hearted now, as she fights to recall the fuzzy memories in as calculating a way as possible. She couldn’t-- wouldn’t-- freak out again. “There aren’t details. At least, not for me. I couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t speak. I was awake for all of it, and I couldn’t even get the blindfold off.” The tears that’d made such a fuss trying to escape her eyes are finally streaming freely down her face, but she’s too preoccupied to notice. “My arms were tied down to a chair,” her hands instinctively gravitated to the burns on her wrists, “and my legs were tied together. My mouth, um, was duct taped… and… there were these headphones on me. Noise cancelling, I guess, unless whoever took me was a monk.” She swallowed past the growing lump in her throat, eyes searching the table in front of her as she went on. “They fed me this disgusting-- I guess soup? And gave me water twice a day. They were always wearing gloves, so I don’t even know if they had long fingernails.”

Did you learn anything about your kidnapper? Any facial details, an accent, any knowledge that you can share to help police in their investigation?

Her irritability resurfaces at lightning speed as she realizes how little she’s being listened to. A spark of recognition lights her face up, jaw dropping as she wiped her cheeks in a fervor. “Wait, no, I remember it. I remember everything.” Shaking hands ushered for the detective to grab her pen and paper. “Write this down, hurry-- before I forget again.” Rosa nods to herself as she begins to recount everything she knows. “It was a man, stocky build. He had white hair, and… it was spiky. A dark goatee, with a little light patch right in the middle. I couldn’t see his eyes, because he was wearing these thin, plastic, black sunglasses.” She clapped once, as if in celebration. “And every time he came to give me food, he pulled my headphones off just enough for me to hear him scream FLAVORTOWN! as he poured it down my throat.”

“Oh, wait, that’s Guy Fieri. I guess I didn’t miraculously remember anything since the last time I answered that, two minutes ago.”

Were you aware of any of the other kidnap victims when you were taken? Do you have any information or insight into the death of Nathaniel Ballantyne?

“I thought I was the only one until I heard people talking about the others. I had no idea there were more of us. I don’t even know if we were in the same place.” She stands up with her shoulders straight, the clothes she’d tried to sleep in still hanging freely off her figure. “As fun as this was, I’m going to go back to bed and do my very best to remember every detail of my excruciating days in hell so you can ultimately waste it on your corkboard and red string investigative approach. See you when the next round of people die, yeah?” With that, she takes her graceful leave.

[eisforeidolon]

Episode: Nightmare Logic

Sometimes stories need you to skip over some of the show and just tell - to keep the pace, to maintain the focus, etc..  A good story finds a balance that knows when to do which, and using show don't tell as a catchall axiom about writing has always kinda bugged me for that reason. 

That said, so much of the tell about Leader!Sam straight up contradicts what they're actually showing in the episode.  In addition to loving Mary Sues, Dabb has what feels to me like some weird, out-of-place fetish for making Sam a leader since this is the second time he's pulled a team of nameless nobodies out of his ass to make it happen.  Here one of his writers is inflicting the same type of shoddy storytelling that we've seen previously with Wayward and Mary and see currently ongoing with Maggie (from pointy end? to Everybody Loves Maggie onward to leader! in ten. freakin'. episodes. FFS.) on Sam to do it.   Actually show us characters being good at something or building them up realistically?  Not important in Dabb's cheap imitation Supernatural, arbitrary declarations that contradict what the plots have actually happen are perfectly acceptable here!

It's as if the writers think that they can just attribute a few technological innovations to Sam, have him be in charge, and wham-bam awesome leader status achieved!  Him actively compromising his ability to function and refusing to use the resources he has is admirable leadership because …?  He could be training some of these AU people to be new MoL and having them help him with the organizational and research side of things, but instead the writers have him just treating them as his personal hunter army to order around.  It's fucking weird – both that he would do that and that the AU people would go along with it.  Are Dabb and Glynn just that abysmally clueless about what being a good leader looks like?  I'm pretty sure I said this before, but it'd be one thing if we'd actually seen Sam gain these people's allegiance, or if this was going to evolve into him realizing that he's not a great leader without improvement or that he doesn't actually want to be a leader. I really don't think they're going for that though, because of how the other characters react.  

Bobby comes out aggressively about his leadership being bad.  I think it's meant to feel unwarranted, because Mary jumps right in to immediately give Sam a big pep-talk speech about how he's unreservedly doing great and was totally born to do this!  Which, even putting what the episode actually shows us of his leadership aside, would be more convincing if she wasn't already established as a terrible judge of both people and situations.  Who was it that fell directly for the BMoL's schemes and hooked up with Ketch?  Who was it that scoffed at the very idea Jack could be influenced by Lucifer?  If I didn't believe Dabb and crew to be a bunch of dumbasses who have no idea what a cold malfunctioning robot the Mary they've written is, I would think they were intentionally providing more reason to doubt Leader!Sam.  Except it is pretty clear they're generally clueless, so I'd be quite surprised if we're not supposed to see this as a valid refutation of what Bobby said.  The same way they generally substituted having Ketch tell us Mary was the most awesome hunter evar for actually showing her being all that exceptionally awesome.

Speaking of Mary, am I the only one that's starting to get the impression that the real reason they resurrected her was because they wanted to write bad, soapy romance and know the fans revolt when they do that with the guys?  I aggressively do not care about her hooking up with AU!Bobby.  And that whole scene with the projection of AU!Bobby's son beating the crap out of him and Mary?  I'd have a lot more investment – or, you know, any at all – if they'd actually written the two characters in a way to make me care about them for themselves rather than just assuming I must already do so because of their relationship - or their regular world clone's relationship - to Sam and Dean.  So lazy.

Anyway, back from that tangent, Dean I'm not surprised to see bristling at any suggestion of a slight to Sam as a knee jerk reaction.  So that's apt enough, but the part where AU!Bobby just randomly changes his mind by the end of the episode so that he, too, is telling us Sam is a good leader?  The problem is there's no basis for it in what happens in the episode, other than maybe Bobby getting knocked in the head too hard, being woozy from blood loss, and/or becoming emotionally compromised.  Compelling.  

I mean, they can have all the characters repeat it, but what actually happened?  Sam sent Maggie on a hunt that she wouldn't have been ready for if even if it wasn't a trap.  He cuts her down from the attic, which could have been done by literally any of the four of them.  He doesn't figure out what the monster is or take it down. While it's excusable that those are Dean since the episode clearly wanted us to wonder about the djinn's interaction with him in relation to Michael?  Sam doesn't even go and talk to Maggie after the fact and help her deal/calm her down, even though she and her hunt were his responsibility - Dean does that, too. Like, it doesn’t even happen onscreen, so why the hell did Sam not do that as supposed leader-guy?

So what, exactly, was here to suddenly make AU!Bobby change his mind when he was, actually, the one the episode showed to be right?  A good leader knows they can't function as well on no sleep.  A good leader delegates minor tasks like listening to check-ins and finding hunts.  A good leader accurately gauges the ability of those they lead and does not send cannon fodder like Maggie out by herself as a fighter, period – hell, a good leader would remember in SPNworld you really can't save everyone, and thus sending out any of these AU people alone is spreading themselves too thin for questionable benefit.  (Even before you add Michael!monsters to the equation, he and Dean don't hunt alone the vast majority of the time, but these randos who've only been in this world for a few months should?  At the end Sam does change that rule – but just because Michael's setting traps, which is less good leader and more minimal acceptable competence.)  A good leader deals with the fallout of his own regrettable decisions himself.  

The episode went out of its way to give replacement goldfish Bobby this sad sob story about being a leader and losing his son in the other world.  If, rather than having him take back what he originally said, he instead gave Sam some pithy advice about being a leader – like getting some sleep and learning to delegate?  Which we could then see Sam take to heart and implement going forward?  Hell, they could throw in a line about how he'd been overworking himself as a method of distraction while Dean was gone and he just hadn't had time to readjust yet and it's even more sympathetic!  That would both soften the harshness of AU!Bobby's original speech (showing the emotional through line with him the writers clearly wanted), and show Sam as being capable of learning from his mistakes and therefore perhaps growing into someone who is actually as good of a leader as Mary's mouthpiece speech tried to paint him as. 

Not even to mention that, asked by Dean how they'll deal with everything? Sam says he'll just work harder, he'll basically stop sleeping altogether!  A good leader would realize that, aside from emergencies, the answer is not to be incompetent even harder, it's to delegate and focus his expert energies more exclusively on the big stuff no one else can do - like the whole Michael problem. If these AU!people aren't competent or trustworthy enough to be handed regular hunter tasks dealing with bog-standard hunts themselves, they really shouldn't be hunting at all.  Even if the writers have got a hard on for sleep-deprived Sam they desperately want to indulge, it's hardly like the Michael problem isn't sufficient to justify that without having him also waiting up all hours for calls from unnamed Bozo #5 checking in from a hunt because apparently no one else can do that.

In short, the writers seem to go out of their way to show Sam making terrible choices for someone who is a real leader (rather than just the guy haphazardly in charge) and compound it by having Sam seem to take away exactly the opposite of the lesson that would actually make him a good leader, yet I don't really get the impression we're meant to see that.  Instead, this episode just gets to the end and has the only one other than Sam himself to voice any real question about his leadership just parrot along with the chorus that Sam is a good leader - regardless of basically everything they actually showed us Sam saying and doing or, more aptly, not doing.  Thanks, I hate it.  

I did think the monster story in this episode was done decently well, I'll give it that.  In contrast to last week, I think it set up an interesting mystery around it and had a fairly satisfying follow-through.  Well, mostly, insomuch as I'm going to like any of the Michael's rule-breaking monsters stories  (I'm going to imagine somebody ran into town for some lamb's blood while the djinn was incapacitated.)  Basically, with the Sam story so incoherent and the cringey romance bullshit with Mary/Bobby – so far as I'm concerned, all the actually enjoyable parts of the episode went to Dean. Sussing out who and what the monster was, the confrontation with it and the callback to the Michael story, and also the rather nice interlude conversation with the daughter of the old man who owns the property.  (I'm pretty sure when Sam fans wanted Sam to bond with more side characters, it wasn't in the sense of a faceless mass of cardboard nobodies and listening to Mary whine about her love life while Dean still got the characters with actual personalities.)  

[preserving-ferretbrain]

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Chapters 13-23

by Dan H

Wednesday, 01 August 2007In which Dan continues to self-harm with the final Harry Potter book.

Previously: I'm doing a chapter-by-chapter reaction to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

So far we've had a wedding, Harry has sat in Grimmauld place doing nothing and ... umm ... that's it.

Chapter Thirteen: The Muggle-Born Registration Commission

In which we have yet more of the Ministry pretending to be Nazis.

Let's face it: Harry Potter is an RPG with a crappy GM. This would explain why the Troika spend this chapter, and the next couple, acting like a stereotypical bunch of clueless player characters.

They've got into the Ministry, and they've realised that they have no fucking clue what to do once they get in, so they bugger about stumbling into subplots, and wind up having to fight their way out.

They also get the Horcrux, and rescue a bunch of people from the Muggle-Born Registration Commission.

It strikes me, incidentally, that much as I hate the chapters in which nothing happens at all, the chapters in which things actually do happen are in many ways worse. At least the event-free chapters have an excuse for being as boring as all hell. This chapter, which includes Dementors, show trials, and a running battle in the Ministry, is so tedious I can't even find a noteworthy quote.

I'll leave you with this, then, from Harry's brief glimpse at a copy of The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore (okay, we get it, there's Dumbledore backplot, please stop now).

The boy who roared in silent amusement beside Dumbledore had a gleeful, wild look about him. His golden hair fell in curls to his shoulders.

I quote this not because I have anything to say about it, but so that you can join me in my disbelief when next chapter Harry has a vision of a familiar looking blonde man with a gleeful wild look, and hasn't got a clue where he's seen him before.

Chapter Fourteen: The Thief

In which the Potterites hide in a tent.

Our intrepid heroes can't go back to Grimmauld Place, because somebody was holding on to Hermione when she Apparated, and we all know that when you hold on to somebody who's teleporting, you teleport with them. It's, like, the rules.

So they go and sit in a tent. A magic tent. In some woods. And the realise that they don't know how to destroy the Horcrux. So tell us something we don't know.

Very, very little happens in this chapter. Most of it is taken up with Harry having a vision of Lord Voldemort finally killing that wand-maker he's been hunting down. Harry expresses surprise that Voldemort didn't grill the guy for wand-lore first. Because once again Harry Potter readers are too dumb to decide for themselves how they should react to plot twists and revelations.

Voldemort is looking for something, and he thinks Gregorovitch has it, but he doesn't because it was stolen from him. In a shocking display of convenience, Harry manages not only to read Voldemort's mind, but also the mind of the wandmaker, which presumably Voldemort was reading when their connection was open. So he gets a good look at the "thief".

Harry could still see the blond-haired youth's face, it was merry, wild.

Harry thinks it sounds familiar, but can't think from where.

Clue: it begins with "P" and ends with "Revious Chapter".

Chapter Fifteen: The Goblin's Revenge

In which we get yet another plot dump from some highly convenient Goblins.

Another thing you have to love about JK Rowling is the fact that she's not afraid to overhype her chapter titles. We constantly wind up with titles like "The Massively Significant Thing That Happens In A Huge And Important Way" and wind up with some guy breaking his spectacles. A fine example of this phenomenon was, of course, the first chapter of this very book: "The Dark Lord Ascending".

Indeed, one might almost suggest that the best way to appreciate JK Rolwing is to take her chapter titles and imagine for yourself what actually happens in them. Hmm ... I wonder if any fanfic communities have tried that: re-imagine Potter based only on the chapter headings.

I'm digressing again, but since this chapter is yet another useless waste of space with the protagonists sitting in a tent, I don't feel too bad about that.

Anyway, this chapter is called "The Goblin's Revenge" but could more accurately be called "The Goblin Didn't Mention That The Sword of Gryffindor That Got Put Into Gringotts Was Actually A Fake When He Possibly Could Have." As revenge goes, that's pretty lame.

So the Potteristas, safely ensconced in the Tent of Magically Protected Arse Sitting overhear Ted Tonks and a couple of Gringotts Goblins having a long, laboured discussion in which they painstakingly explain whatever bits of the plot Harry needs to know about next.

Which leads to this awful expository conversation between the Potteroids:

"The sword can destroy Horcruxes! Goblin-made blades imbibe only that which strengthens them - Harry, that sword's impregnated with Basilisk venom!" "Dumbledore didn't give it to me because he still needed it, he wanted to use it on the locket -" "- and he must have realised they wouldn't let you have it if he put it in his will -" "- so he made a copy -" "- and put a fake in the glass case -" "- and put the real one ... where?"

Okay, fine, so you've answered the "Why didn't Dumbeldore give them all this shit earlier" question, and guess what: it's a stupid answer. Why not say "Harry, in case anything happens to me, I want you to take the sword of Gryffindor. Keep it safe, because it can destroy Horcruxes on account of how it's impregnated with Basilisk venom. By the way, we'll need it to destroy that locket we're going after."

Furthermore, the whole reason for the sword being able to destroy Horcruxes rubs me up the wrong way. It's an artefact of one of the founders of Hogwarts: it's a puissant magical weapon of ancient goblin craftsmanship. Do we really need that tat about its being "impregnated with basilisk venom"? Hell, do we really need basilisk venom to be the thing that destroys Horcruxes.

I'm not saying it doesn't make sense, but it makes the wrong kind of sense. It makes the kind of juvenile sense you get amongst seventeen year old roleplayers who will argue your leg off about how a vampire's clothes should reflect in a mirror, even if the vampire doesn't. The Sword can't destroy the Horcruxes because it's a Symbolic Ultimate Good to defeat their Symbolic Ultimate Evil. It can destroy Horcruxes because it's soaked in Horcrux Destroying Juice. This presumably is manufactured by the same people who made the Dumbledore Killing Juice that featured in the final chapters of book six.

In the next part of the chapter, Ron scores major points with me, as he assumes the mantle of Voice of the Reader, and points out what a hopelessly, stupidly, unbearably pointless situation they are now in. They have one Horcrux, they have no idea where the others are. They found out purely by chance that the Sword of Gryffindor can destroy Horcruxes, but they don't know where it is or how to get it. In short, the only thing they can do is sit around like morons hoping to get a lucky break.

I always hate it when this sort of thing happens. You had exactly the same situation in the seventh season of Buffy. The Hero clearly hasn't got a fucking clue what they are doing, and one of their companions finally snaps (often as a result of having seen half their friends die, or having been forced to hide in a tent eating wild mushrooms as a result of the hero's blatant incompetence) and calls them on it. Then the hero is all "you've got to have faith, you've got to believe in what we're doing!" and the friend is all "but this is completely and totally stupid, the only hope we have is to be saved by authorial fiat." And then the hero says "well if you feel like that you'd better leave", then the friend leaves. Then authorial fiat comes along and presents the hero with all the answers which they were manifestly incapable of acquiring of their own accord, and the friend has to slink back and admit that the hero was right all along.

It's awful, and it's always awful. It's bad writers trying to excuse bad writing by pretending that their failure to give their characters adequate motivation to undertake a course of action is really their character having Faith in something Greater Than Themselves.

So Ron Disapparates out of the Tent Of Pointlessness, and I sincerely wish I could go with him.

Chapter Sixteen: Godric's Hollow

In which Potter very briefly gets off his arse.

Ron has left. Harry is all cut up about this. Hermione is even more cut up about it because she is worried that if he doesn't get back they won't be able to get married and give their children stupid names.

Early on in this chapter, I had to wonder whether JK was actually taking the piss, when I stumbled across the following:

He was staggered, now, to think of his own presumption in accepting his friends' offers to accompany him on this meandering, pointless journey.

I mean, seriously. That's a joke, right. That's JK Rowling tacitly admitting that the first two hundred and fifty seven pages of her book have been a complete waste of everybody's time and energy.

Finally, they seize on the nearest thing they have to a clue, which is to go to Godric's Hollow in the hope that they can meet somebody who can point them in the right direction.

They spend approximately a month planning this little jaunt, collecting the hair of random strangers so that they can Polyjuice themselves again, and learning to Apparate together under the invisibility cloak. Much as I appreciate these little details, I'd be completely happy to take them as read.

So they piffle around looking at graves, and we finally get to see where James and Lily are buried. There's also an honest-to-God Potter statue in the middle of the square, and we find that the former Potter residence has been preserved as a shrine for all eternity so that nobody forgets what happened there.

I really wanted to find those scenes touching. Honestly I did. But it's book seven for crying out loud, and Harry has only just gone back to Godric's Hollow? On top of this, the whole thing contributes to the massively mixed messages we get about the Wizarding World's attitude towards Harry. We've spent the past three books having pretty much the whole of wizarding society shun Harry on a variety of ropey pretexts (the latest being "the Daily Prophet says he killed Dumbledore"), so to have this vast memorial to his triumph and his parents' sacrifice is actually rather jarring.

Anyway, the ... well Duo, I suppose they are now ... dick around in Godric's hollow for a bit. In the next chapter they meet Bathilda Bagshot.

Chapter Seventeen: Bathilda's Secret

In which we find out no information of any importance.

The title of this chapter is "Bathilda's Secret". Now I had vainly hoped that "Bathilda's Secret" would be some of this goddamned Dumbledore backplot which JK has been waving in my face for the past two hundred and seventy pages. No such luck.

Bathilda's Secret, in case you were wondering is "she's dead, and there's a gigantic fucking snake living in her animated corpse."

There's actually precious little to say about this chapter. H&H meet Bathilda Bagshot, she acts really, really, really creepy. Like she's an animated corpse with a giant snake inside her, in fact. She lures them into her home, which smells of piss and dead women with snakes inside them. Then she lures Harry upstairs, where she turns into Nagini and tries to kill him.

Or rather, not to kill him, but to hold him until Voldemort shows up, so that the Dark Lord can kill him personally.

I'm going to go off on another tangent now, and rant for a bit about how utterly fucking annoying this is. Voldemort would have won his war in eight seconds flat, bent the Wizarding world to his will, triumphed over all resistance, danced on the grave of Albus Dumbledore, achieved immortality and subjugated mugglekind with ease if he had just been willing to let go of the whole "I have to be the one to kill Harry Potter" thing.

I wouldn't mind so much, but there is absolutely no reason given for Voldemort's stubborn insistence that he "has to be the one" to kill Potter or, for that matter, Potter's stubborn insistence that he "has to be the one" to defeat Voldemort. Everybody just seems to take it for granted that only Harry can beat Voldemort, only Voldemort can beat Harry. And I know that there's the "prophecy" but for fuck's sake. Prophecies are cool when people hear them, set out to defy them, and fail. They are not cool when people hear the prophecy and say: "Oh my god! A Prophecy! I must immediately and unthinkingly do exactly what it says! Which also just happens to be the thing which most directly furthers the hackneyed plot of the quest the author has decided I'm supposed to be on."

Voldemort gets closer, and Harry starts seeing into his mind again, but now Voldemort is reliving his murder of Harry's parents. This flashback takes three pages and tells us literally nothing that we do not already know. It does, however, give us some insights into Voldemort's mono-dimensional non-personality, with lines like:

...how stupid they were, and how trusting, thinking that their secret lay in friends, that weapons could be discarded even for moments...

Do you see. Because Voldemort can't understand love. Because he's completely incapable of any human feeling whatsoever. Another thing that hacks me off about Voldemort is the fact that JK seems on the one hand to want us to view him as something utterly inhuman, a creature devoid of compassion or emotion, a heartless monster that kills at random, but on the other hand wants us to view him as somehow similar to Harry, the hero with whom we are supposed to sympathise. She shows us that he and Harry have vaguely similar personal histories, that they are connected on a variety of levels, and keeps having Dumbledore say things like "It is our choices, Harry, which define us". But Voldemort never makes a "choice" to do evil, or at least not a meaningful choice. Voldemort does evil because if he did not, there would be no book. He walks on stage a psychopath, and he dies a psychopath. His actions gain him nothing, and cost him everything. He plays the villain because Rowling wants him to. He has no personality, no identity, no goals beyond those dictated by the plot. All the effort Rowling puts into "developing" his "character" in books six and seven only highlights this fact.

So Voldemort shows up and fails to kill Harry Potter. Again.

Shoot me. Shoot me now.

Chapter Eighteen: The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore

In which we are expected to give a shit about Dumbledore's lame-ass backstory.

While Godric's Hollow turned out to be a bust, Hermione did manage to swipe a copy of The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore, Rita-Skeeter's tell-all biography of the lovable old plot device.

Blah blah dark past blah blah Grindelwald blah blah world conquest blah blah greater good.

Long story short: Dumbledore spent approximately three months on good terms with the Dark Wizard Grindelwald, during which time they concocted some typically teenage plans about how it would ... like ... be totally radical if ... like ... Wizards took over the world because ... like ... look at how fake and commercial everything was. Or something. It's cheap and unconvincing and really not that shocking at all. It's sort of like discovering that Churchill once met Hitler at a party in 1921.

What makes all of this even more risible is the timeline involved. According to the information provided by JK Rowling, Dumbledore is about 150 when the books take place. Given that he met Grindelwald when they were both eighteen, this puts their Summer O' Evil at around eighteen fifty-something. Dumbledore, of course, eventually defeated Grindelwald in nineteen forty-five. Nearly a hundred years later. Either Grindelwald was in power for a really long time, or else he didn't come to power for nearly a century after he met old Albus. Either way, it seems a bit pointless to hold Dumbledore responsible for the actions taken in 1940 by a man he met in 1860.

Harry, of course goes off the deep end, and Hermione, of course, tries to point out that things aren't as awful as they seem.

"He changed, Harry, he changed! It's as simple as that! Maybe he did believe those things when he was seventeen, but the whole of the rest of his life was devoted to fighting the Dark Arts!"

Harry doesn't seem to be able to get his head around this idea, and for once I can't entirely blame him for it. After all, there isn't one single character in the entire Harry Potter series who has shown any meaningful development between their arrival at Hogwarts and their death. Riddle was always a psycho, Sirius was always a wild card, Lily was always an angel and so on. So Harry can, in fact, be entirely forgiven for assuming that Dumbledore's personality was set in stone by the age of eighteen.

I wish I could say that we had now finally got the Dumbledore backstory out of the way. But no.

Chapter Nineteen: The Silver Doe

In which it turns out that Ron's attack of sanity was really black magic.

For some reason, we are supposed to associate the "Silver Doe" with Lily Potter. I'm not sure why. Okay, so James was a stag. Does Lily have no identity of her own?

Oh wait. Never mind then.

Anyway, Harry and Hermione are still sitting in the Procrastination Tent. Harry, keeping watch, thinks he hears something outside. Then he catches a glimpse of the Silver Doe of the title, and decides to dash off into the dark after it.

Now even JK Rowling, who usually doesn't bother to justify her characters' moronic decisions, seems to have realised that dashing out into the night, away from their magically protected tent and into an unknown darkness where absolutely anything could be waiting for them, so she gives us another one of her trademark "no this totally makes sense" lines:

Caution murmured: it could be a trick, a lure, a trap. But instinct, overwhelming instinct, told him that this was not Dark Magic.

So that's okay then. If you know something might be a trap, it's okay to walk blindly into it.

The Silver Doe (which we are supposed to associate with Lily Potter because she was nothing more than James Potter's woman) leads Harry to a lake, which has the Sword of Gryffindor at the bottom. I shit you not.

I've seen people on the internet actually praising Rowling for the "symbolism" of this scene. Newsflash kids: ripping scenes off from famous myths isn't symbolism, it's just lazy. It's a sword in a lake, which is only there because somebody sent it to Harry, because the little fucktard would otherwise be completely incapable of destroying any of the damned Horcruxes.

So Harry takes off all of his clothes and dives into the frozen lake, but the Horcrux around his neck tries to strangle him (which it should really have done earlier, thinking about it). He is rescued by the timely re-arrival of Ron, who saves Harry, retrieves the Sword of Gryffindor, and then explains that he was only making consistent, cogent points about how completely fucked they all were, and how Harry didn't know what the hell he was doing, because the Horcrux was doing a One Ring on him.

So they're all reconciled, and Harry tells Ron that he is supposed to be the one to destroy the locket. Seriously, everybody in this entire book should just get the hell over all the "supposed to be" shit. Voldemort won't let his minions kill Harry, because he's "supposed" to do it, Harry can't ask for help defeating Voldemort because he's "supposed" to do it himself, and now apparently Ron is "supposed" to destroy the locket. What. The. Fuck?

So Harry opens the locket by speaking Parseltongue, and in one of the book's three moments of almost possessing merit, we see that Tom Riddle's original eyes are staring out of the two halves of the locket (I like to think that the Cup of Helga Hufflepuff contains his original nose).

Then the locket starts pulling a bunch of annoying "Hermione doesn't love you" shit to freak Ron out, which would be somewhat more effective if JK Rowling had made Ron/Hermione (or indeed any romantic relationship, or indeed any relationship at all) remotely convincing. Ron stabs the locket in they eyes, and they all go home.

They get back to the Inactivity Tent, and Hermione's all like "Ron, you absolute bastard, I'm going to kick the shit out of you and then bang your brains out." Then Ron explains that he managed to find them because the Deluminator, as well as being able to switch lights out, also lets you find your way back to your friends after you ditch them in the middle of their epic quest.

Say it with me now: What the fuck?

You see, it's shit like this that led a small number of people to believe that Dumbledore had to be from the future. I mean foresight is one thing, but are you seriously telling me that when he created the Deluminator, however many decades ago that was, he thought to himself "hey, I'd better install a 'be able to find your way back to your friends for no readily explicable reason' function as well, because one day in the next century, three young wizards might be on a quest to destroy Voldemort's Horcruxes, and one of them might leave, and need to find his way back."

And it's shit like this that makes me really hate JKR's attempt to make Dumbledore into a "complex" character in this book. You simply can't have it both ways. Either he's a real human person who makes mistakes, or he's the infallible plot god who is so wise, so possessed of absolute foresight, that he manages to predict correctly that Ron will fall under the influence of the Locket Horcrux, leave the quest, want to return, and be unable to do so because Harry and Hermione are travelling the country in a magically protected tent.

Seriously, if the guy is smart enough to do that, why the hell wasn't he smart enough to - say - track down Voldemort's Horcruxes during the ten years in which he was incorporeal, or to twig much sooner that Grindelwald was probably evil, or to not get horribly cursed trying to use the Resurrection Stone (of which more later).

Dumbledore is infallible when he needs to do something amazing to advance the plot, but All Too Human when Rowling wants to impress us with how layered and complex her characters are.

I've used the phrase "fucking hack" before, haven't I.

Chapter Twenty: Xenophilius Lovegood

In which we miss Luna Lovegood like crazy.

Here Hermione basically turns into a D&D player again, and spins out a line of logic which boils down to "hey, when we were at the wedding, the GM told us that Xenophilius Lovegood was wearing this symbol on his chest. He wouldn't have told us that if it wasn't important, right, we should totally go investigate this Xeno guy."

So they do.

They arrive at Chez Lovegood, and Ron is all "oh no, I am near my home but am not going there" and Harry is all "oh no, I am near Ginny but have no chance of getting a decent blow job".

It takes them fucking ages to ask Xenophilus about the symbol on his chest, and then Rowling does that gimmicky "end the chapter on the sentence you should probably have started the damned thing on" trick with:

"Are you referring to the sign of the Deathly Hallows?"

We're on page 328. For comparative purposes, the original Philosopher's Stone (UK Edition) ended on page 223, Chamber of Secrets on 251, and Prisoner of Azkaban on page 317. So you could read the whole of the first book and half of the second in the time it's taken us to get to the goddamned title of this one.

Chapter Twenty-One: The Tale of the Three Brothers

In which JK apes fairy-tales and fails.

So there are these three brothers who meet Death, and he offers each of them a gift, but really he's trying to fuck them over. So the first one asks for an unbeatable wand, and gets himself killed. The second one asks for a stone that can raise the dead, and drives himself to suicide. The third one, realising that Death is probably a fuck, asks for a way to get the hell out of there without Death following him, so he gets an invisibility cloak.

That's the story of the three brothers, and the Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, and the Invisibility Cloak together comprise the Deathly Hallows. Which is a stupid, stupid, stupid name for them. I mean seriously: "Hallows"? It's almost as bad as the "younglings" in Revenge of the Sith.

So anyway, Harry is all "these things totally exist, we should totally ditch our current quest to go look for them" and Hermione is all "these things totally don't exist, we should totally not ditch our current quest to go look for them" and Ron is all "these things might or might not exist, and I don't know whether we should ditch our current quest to go look for them or not."

Bets on the Hallows being real, everybody?

Anyway, the story of the Three Brothers is quite nice stylistically, but the actual content bugs me. As ever, my new favourite character Ron says it best:

"Nah, that story's just one of those things you tell kids to teach them lessons, isn't it? 'Don't go looking for trouble, don't pick fights, don't go messing around with stuff that's best left alone! Just keep your head down and mind your own business and you'll be OK."

In the "Tale of the Three Brothers," the ones who wind up dead are the ones who try to actually achieve something with their "Hallows". The last brother, the one who makes it through, the one we are supposed to admire, is the one who spends his entire life sitting under an invisibility cloak doing nothing.

I've already pointed out how passive Harry is, how he just reacts to things, how he doesn't have a consistent plan. I've complained about the fact that he's basically spent this entire book sitting in a tent doing nothing, but it becomes increasingly apparent through the book that JK Rowling views inactivity as a virtue and ambition as a sin. The implied morality of all this makes me genuinely uncomfortable, but I think I'll come back to that after I've finished the main article.

Anyway, having had the plot dump, it transpires that the Death Eaters have captured Luna, and that her father has bargained Potter to them for her return. Everybody panics, but our happy band manage to escape because - as Xeno seems to have failed to realise - they can fucking teleport.

The final thing I want to mention in this chapter touches on JK Rowling's dubious morality once again.

During the getaway, they make a big thing about how Hermione puts Ron under the invisibility cloak, not Harry. The idea here is that she wants the Death Eaters to see that Harry really was there, so that they don't think Xeno Lovegood was betraying them.

That's actually really nice, but it's spoiled by this little sequence:

Xenophilius' paper-white face appeared over the top of the sideboard. "Obliviate!" cried Hermione.

So she's gone to all that trouble to stop the Death Eaters hurting him, only to erase his brain anyway. Nice.

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Deathly Hallows

In which we are: Still. Sitting. In. A. Fucking. Tent.

Abso-fucking-lutely nothing-at-fucking-all happens in this chapter.

Seriously.

Harry gets obsessed with the Hallows, he realises that Voldemort is probably after the Elder wand, and they listen to a completely pointless radio broadcast.

They have no plan, no idea what to do or where to go.

Gee, wouldn't it be convenient if they got captured so that the Death Eaters could accidentally let slip the location of one of the Horcruxes.

What's that you say, JK? Harry said Voldemort's name, even though he knows that it will bring the wrath of the Dark Lord down upon him? And they've been captured? And they're going to Malfoy Manor?

No shit.

Chapter Twenty-Three: Malfoy Manor

In which Harry survives by dumb luck yet again.

So after Harry totally fucked up for about the millionth time in his career, and the Trio get captured by a band of "snatchers", one of which is Fenrir Greyback.

Hermione, in a flash of competence otherwise unheard of in this series, blasts Harry with a spell to make his face swell up so the Snatchers won't recognise him. Shame about that massively distinctive scar really, isn't it.

Incidentally, part of me wonders why the Voldemort-Taboo spell, supposedly implemented by Death Eater Central, is alerting random bands of snatchers instead of genuine Death Eaters. Fenrir might wear the robes, but he isn't allowed the Mark, because he's a filthy half-breed, so they have to haul Harry and Co back to Malfoy Manor in order to deliver him to the Dark Lord personally. Of course the Dark Lord isn't there, he's in - like - Albania or somewhere looking for the Elder Wang.

So our heroes, such as they are, get taken back to Malfoy Manor, and introduced to the Malfoy family, in the various persons of Narcissa, Bellatrix, and Draco (who shows a rather touching moment of being not-totally-evil when he is reluctant to formally identify Team Potter).

Bellatrix - again proving herself to be the only Death Eater with half a brain or any balls - recognises the Sword of Gryffindor, which she of course believes to be still in her family Vault. She totally freaks out at this, and thereby tips off Harry to the possibility of one of the other Horcruxes being in the vault. This is actually well done. Bellatrix reacts reasonably and sensibly, and Harry draws a logical conclusion, without having somebody else spell things out for him.

Anyway, Bellatrix decides to torture Hermione to find out what the Potterites know (again, the only Death Eater with any balls or half a brain), then she throws Harry into the World's Most Pathetic Dungeon.

In the World's Most Pathetic Dungeon we find Luna, Ollivander, and some other minor characters who I'm too bored to mention right now. Harry is tied up, but fortunately they have an old piece of nail, which makes short work of any pesky ropes you might happen to have lying around.

So while Hermione is being tortured (incidentally: bets on this hideous torment having any influence on her personality whatsoever? Bingo) Harry escapes his bonds through Luna's broken-nail-fu. He digs through the mokeskin bag which Hagrid gave him (it was a birthday present, nobody can take things out of it except the owner. Why nobody just took it off him I don't know). Fortunately, he remembered to pack the sliver of broken glass from that mirror thing that Sirius gave him. Good thing that. He has a flash of Dumbledore's eye, and calls for help.

He's a man of action, that Harry Potter.

So Dobby the house-elf shows up to rescue him. It really is a fucking curtain-call isn't it. Dobby Appartes out with Luna, Ollivander, and some other minor character, but the commotion caused by all this has attracted the attention of the Death Eaters, who send Peter Pettigrew (who for some reason everybody now calls by his boyhood nickname of "Wormtail") down to investigate).

Ron and Harry jump Pettigrew, who fights back like a good'un, using his Evil Silver Hand to throttle the life out of Harry. Harry reminds Peter that he (Harry) saved his (Pettigrew's) life back in book three, and wasn't it time for some payback. So, in a sequence that makes no sense, Wormtail's silver hand releases Harry, and then turns on its owner, choking him to death. Now I think the implication here is that the Silver Hand, being Totally Evil, was punishing Pettigrew for showing mercy, but that seems a little harsh, since the Death Eaters are all under explicit instructions not to kill Potter anyway.

So Ron and Harry burst upstairs to rescue Hermione. The battle goes exactly the same way as every other fight between hardened Dark Wizards and underage schoolchildren.

During this scuffle, Harry yanks a bunch of wands out of Draco's hand. This is an act of Profound Mystical Significance, for reasons which will be explained later.

Anyway, they fight, they bite, they fight they fight they bite, and then Dobby shows up for the final rescue. Now he should have been able to manage that in about eight seconds flat. He's a house elf, he can teleport even inside Hogwarts. He's got magic the like of which the Death Eaters cannot comprehend.

But this is the final book, and JK Rowling is a serious author who is sending a real message about death and the importance of being a passive whiny bitch, so of course Dobby can't do that. Instead he has to stand around making a speech for exactly long enough for Bellatrix to shove her dagger through his skinny little chest.

This would have been kind of touching, but seriously, all Dobby had to do was to get in, get out, and not bother with the big "you must not hurt Harry Potter" routine and he would have been fine.

So Dobby dies. His actual death is one of the most godawfully crappy bits of writing I've read since, well, since last chapter I suppose.

The elf's eyes found him, and his lips trembled with the effort to form words. "Harry ... Potter ..." And then with a little shudder the elf became quite still, and his eyes were nothing more than great, glassy orbs sprinkled with light from the stars they could not see.

Get your Great Glassy Orbs off me you damn dirty house elf!

On a side note, deaths so far: Charity Burbage, Hedwig, Mad-Eye, Dobby, Ted Tonks.

So of five fatalities, that's two completely unimportant characters, and three utter cheap shots. Way to go you cold, callous killer you.

Next: The exciting conclusion. The fucking awful epilogue.

Themes:

J.K. Rowling

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Books

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Young Adult / Children

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Arthur B

at 15:03 on 2007-08-01She's gone on record as saying that the fairy tale is based on the Pardoner's Tale, hasn't she?

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http://carojen.livejournal.com/

at 16:42 on 2009-07-10I agree with most of what you have written; pointing out the few instances of good writing really makes the rest look bad in comparision.

it becomes increasingly apparent through the book that JK Rowling views inactivity as a virtue and ambition as a sin.

Not to mention that it is Slytherin, the house of _ambition_, that is portrayed as evil throughout the series. At least she doesn't give us conflicting messages. :meh

By the way, Dumbledore was born in 1881, according to Word of God, but that revelation was probably after this was written.

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Dan H

at 22:51 on 2009-07-10At time of writing, I'm pretty sure the WoG on Dumbledore's age was "about a hundred and fifty".

Assuming he was hanging out with Grindelwald in his school days, that still puts his Nazi era more than a hundred years before the present day of the Potterverse, and a clear forty-year gap between the Grindelwald Reich and the Summer of Evil.

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https://me.yahoo.com/a/tjLTVHEducFb4rKDHU5DukBHtQcCbTVMEEq55v0CxV4-#5e156

at 20:24 on 2009-07-29Very good idea about fanfiction challenges, especially with regards to chapter one. Why does JKR through Ron draw meticulous attention to how badly written the book is? I suppose because her fortune had already been made. And she does send out some massively mixed messages doesn't she? So it's OK by her to zombify your parents and friend's parents without a second thought...