#cliff notes version will come eventually

[giftedeath]

verses/about under the cut ! spoilers will be rampant ! but its been twenty years my loves <3

give me back my girlhood / it was mine first › los angeles.

pre - sunnydale buffy. living in la, attending hemery high school. she's popular, she's a cheerleader, she's everything she has always wanted to be. she is the quintessential valley girl. her parents are together, even if they do argue all the time. this is the time in her life that she will constantly refer back to seasons and seasons later ... her girlhood, the thing that is torn from her. her innocence.

she then becomes the vampire slayer.

in every generation there is a chosen one. she alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. she is the slayer.

this verse will be broken up into two parts.

part i - as innocence; the period before becoming the slayer part ii - as the reckoning; she is told one day on the steps of hemery high that she is the chosen one - that she must defeat vampires; slay them ! this is her destiny. she is instilled with what can only be explained as superpowers ! she's faster and stronger than normal girls. her nights of studying long gone as she takes up nights of slaying vampires in cemeteries. school stops mattering, friends turn away from her, and then one day, there is an incident. she accidentally burns down hemery high's gym and is expelled. her and her mother, joyce summers, move to sunnydale california. the beginning of the end

i'm sixteen years old / i don't wanna die › season one.

after her expulsion from hemery high, buffy thinks this will be her chance to get away. no more slayer responsibilities. her move to sunnydale is a blessing in disguise. until she meets sunnydale high's librarian - rupert giles; who also just so happens to be her watcher and it is solidified that not only is she the vampire slayer, but she is now in a town full of vampires, demons, and other forces of darkness. things which she is responsible to take care of, for the better of society. a girl of sixteen !

key events for this verse

she meets the core of the scooby gang; willow rosenberg, and xander harris who become and stay her best friends until the end of the show. as well as other important characters, such as cordelia chase, who becomes a very significant figure in her life.

the relationship with her watcher giles begins. their relationship can be described as very father/daughter-esque but also has tumultuous ups and downs; especially in later seasons ( but also in early seasons tbh )

she meets angel ! the vampire who is cursed with a soul ( formerly known as angelus ! ) and she develops a crush on him which eventually turns into her very first serious relationship <3

she learns that sunnydale is situated atop of a 'hellmouth'; she faces multiple different vampires, including a member of the fanged four and angelus' sire - darla !! who is also his former lover. ( he does eventually kill darla during this season )

the major threat of the season however, is the master, who is an ancient and especially threatening vampire, who is trapped underground in the middle of the hellmouth. buffy defeats him with the help of the scoobies, but not without officially dying first. ( she is drowned by the master, and does die for like two minutes before xander harris is able to give her mouth to mouth and save her ! yay xander )

verse. you only get a few more candles › season two.

season two is where things really start to get fun and buffy, as a show, starts to understand what it is really about. buffy is seventeen, now and a junior at sunnydale high. she's deep in her relationship with angel. she passes time by trying to do her best in school, training with giles, as well as going to the bronze for a bit of r&r every now and again ( a lot ! ) all while fighting the forces of evil!

key events for this verse

iconic vampire couple spike <3 & drusilla <3 enter and begin to wreak havoc in sunnydale! they are established as the 'big bads' of the season.

due to buffy's brief death in season one, a new slayer named kendra is introduced ! we love kendra so much

xander and cordelia start dating which causes cordelia to become one of the scoobies, thus growing closer to buffy by association.

oz osbourne is introduced, a senior and later revealed as a werewolf. he begins dating willow and becomes a scooby !!

willow begins to dabble in magic !

jenny calendar, the computer teacher at sunnydale, starts a romantic relationship with giles & we learn that actually ( lots of retconning goes on ) jenny is romani, her true identity is janna of the kalderash, the same people who cursed angelus and gave him his soul back - making him angel ( and if you choose to watch btvs just know that there are a lot of racist elements in this, and slurs are used very frequently, and it's disgusting. )

in s2ep14 'innocence' buffy and angel have just had sex ! yeehaw, buffy loses her virginity. but alas, angel experiences a true moment of happiness ( yeah. ejaculation jdfkjdkf ) and the curse is lifted, he becomes angelus once more; the notorious, blood sucking, evil vampire. which sucks for buffy bc he then starts to treat her like shit !!! it's all a very weird joss whedon metaphor for men pretending they like you so that they can sleep with you, and then change completely right afterwards. blah blah blah. it is deeply traumatizing for buffy!

angelus joins spike and drusilla to destroy the world ! the fanged four is 3/4ths reunited and hell is unleashed upon everyone. angelus kills lots of innocents, including jenny calendar. drusilla kills kendra. ( TRAGIC AND I HATE IT !! btvs stop killing off woc challenge ) and buffy, in the end, teams up with the scoobies + spike ( yes SPIKE ! the big bad ! ) and sends angelus / angel, the man she is in love with ! into a hell dimension, never to be seen again. very traumaizing again, for buffy.

buffy also comes out to her mother this season as a vampire slayer, and joyce doesn't take it well. ( yes more metaphors ) so ... buffy leaves sunnydale.

verse. a begging to be believed › season three.

terrible awful things happened to buffy in season two like what the hell. so she disappears to la for the summer, bc isolation is how she deals with trauma hello ! eventually she does go back to sunnydale and back to the scoobies and is now eighteen, and a senior. yay ! graduation time !!

key events for this verse !

due to deplorable writing choices, kendra's tragic and unjust death means a new slayer is in town. enter faith lehane !!! buffy's shadow, a girl just a bit younger than her, a very important part of buffy, someone who makes her ... her <3 initially, buffy can't help but be a little bit jealous over faith. her friends love her instantly, she's cool and calm and wears a lot of leather, and she's kind of hot ? oops. ... but yeah, she's in sunnydale !! and they start another very tumultuous friendship .. one that starts off on jealousy, later buffy warms up to her and they have some good Bad Girl times ! until faith kills a man ! and suddenly buffy has to think about what it means to be a slayer, slayers aren't killers, am i bad too ? etc.

angel mysteriously comes back from the hell dimension lmao !!! but he's fucked in the head a bit, ok sorry wait. angel is not the same angel that she knew when she fell in love with him i guess ? bc he suffered for who knows how long in the hell dimension that she was forced to send him to. but now he's back, and she helps him regain his sanity and strength. they kind of start their relationship back up again, but by the end of the season, they break up and go their separate ways.

anyanka the vengeance demon enters ! we love her we love herrrr. she loses her vengeance demon powers tho very quickly and becomes a normal girl ! and goes to the prom with xander

buffy turns eighteen and the watcher's council basically has giles perform this ritual called tento di cruciamentum and it's the beginning of buffy and giles' decline. :( giles is fired from the watcher's council & is replaced by new watcher wesley wyndam pryce !!! oh dear wes <3 also buffy decides fuck the watcher's council and stops caring about them ! good for her !

enter big bad of the season, the mayor !! who is on a mission to ascension or becoming a "pure demon" and with faith on his side, he kind of does it ! but buffy and the scoobies and also the sunnydale class of '99 stop him ! yay ! oh the high school gets blown up lol

buffy stabs faith and puts her into a coma eek

angel and cordelia officially leave sunnydale to go start their spinoff show in los angeles ! good for them :) <3 wesley even joins them a lil bit later ! and angel the series ensues. we'll see angel again tho

verse. she is as destructive as a coriolis storm › season four.

it's the college season! buffy and willow both are attending UC sunnydale yay ! buffy's still kind of cut up about her breakup with angel, but its ok and she's healing <3 she meets some cool people. she loses her soul once ! phew. oh and there's this whole thing called the initiative which kind of sucks :/ but lets get into it

buffy's a freshman, nineteen, she likes psychology with professor walsh and her TA riley finn. she's good at it too ! actually, given the opportunity - she's pretty good at school. which is a cool realization that she has.

anya and xander start officially ? dating. willow and oz break up and oz leaves :( but that's okay bc willow's a lesbian and she meets tara who is also a witch !!! and more scoobies are added to the roster!

spike comes back lmaoooo. and uh, a chip is implanted in his head, and it prevents him from harming humans by giving him big bad migraines. but do not fear ! because he can still harm demons! which causes him to join the scoobies! yay !

oh and its put there by "the initiative" which is ( wikipedia ) "a top-secret military installation based beneath the uc sunnydale campus" they experiment on/kill demons idk. riley finn is like the main bunker boy and professor walsh also runs the shit too. the big bad this season is a guy/demon - man made The Creature from frankenstein like thing named adam and he's very smart or whtvr. it's a very uninteresting season overall lol

buffy and riley start dating and its um .. interesting. she definitely learns and realizes things

buffy and her friends defeat adam and the initiative is shut down and buffy starts thinking about the lineage of slayers, a perfect transition into season 5

verse. death is close / but so is life › season five.

DEATH IS YOUR GIFT ! or probably the best season of buffy.

your gaslit into believing that buffy has had a sister named dawn for four seasons. and you believe it too, for like a second. we love dawnie <3 dawn is the most important person ever, actually.

big bad of the season "glory" enters. she's pretty, she has cute outfits, she's also a god ! and she shares a body with this guy named Ben. he's a nurse ! but again, glory is a god ... and she's searching for a key so that she can open a portal to her hell dimension. the problem is, if she gets the key and opens the portal, it essentially blurs the line between hell and earth and it will unleash hell onto earth ! so she really can't get the key

oh and the key is dawn. dawn is the key. she's energy that was made out of buffy and formed into her teenage sister. so yeah, she wasn't buffy's sister for her whole life, she's actually just existed for a few months ! and the fake memories the key makers planted into all of their brains, makes it kind of feel like she's been there forever. buffy loves her. dawn is her. they are the best sister duo relationship i have ever seen. i am very fond of them.

joyce ( buffy's mom ) dies of a brain aneurysm. it is ............... heartbreaking. it changes buffy's life. it changes buffy.

riley and buffy break up. spike realizes he is IN LOVEEEE with buffy. it's kind of iconic but im a little biased ngl. he also really ups the ante by protecting dawn and joyce a lot and buffy really is relying on him to protect her loved ones this season. also .. he kind of becomes one of her loved ones this season as well :')

glory kidnaps dawn and despite the scoobies efforts, dawn's blood opens up the portal, unleashing hell on earth. buffy sacrifices herself and dies and the portal closes. and buffy dies for the second and final time. ugh god. THE GIFT ! DEATH IS HER GIFT !

verse. life is pain / and life is suffering but my god / you're alive › season six.

my favorite season. season six u will always be famous

buffy's dead but not to worry, the scoobies (willow, xander, anya, and tara) are going to bring her back from whatever hell dimension she's in! don't worry! willow knows what she's doing and she won't come back wrong

they do it! but oops they think that they didn't do it and so buffy is forced to claw herself out of her grave. traumatizing

buffy is alive again, she's back and she's .. not wrong, but also .. she's not the buffy that the scoobies have known and loved all these years. ( to them ) and buffy's actually extremely depressed, empty, and feels very very wrong, ultimately; is suicidal. she was pulled out of heaven ! she has bills to pay, she needs to get a job, her mother is still dead, the soulless vampire is still in love with her, there's a very iconic musical episode where she almost basically attempts to off herself but spike is there to tell her that life is worth living, you have to keep on living SO ONE OF US IS LIVINNNNGGG!!!

giles leaves this season bc he thinks that buffy relies on him too much ? weird but ok.

buffy and spike start a 'sexual' relationship... i guess

their relationship is .... it's an incredibly interesting dynamic which explores the theme of the jungian shadow in depth. it's mutually toxic, but it also stands to represent a lot about buffy and spike's characters. there will be tons and tons of metas written about this whole relationship bc it literally is so......... it's just, it makes sense why it happens. but from a basic perspective, it's not something i support or condone. but it serves a very critical narrative purpose and it is pivotal to buffy's character and the way that i write her. also if u have zero basic media literacy, then it's just a toxic relationship. but it stands for so much more. spike is consistently there, someone who she confides in throughout the season. he is her anchor in a lot of ways. she starts having sex with him because she knows that he is in love with her, she feels safe around him, but she is also disgusted with herself bc that is her shadow. he has no soul and it reflects her emptiness and the void that she has felt since being brought back to life. like i said, very interesting dynamic that changes buffy as a character and honestly, helps in her journey to healing !!!

there is a spike and buffy scene in season 6 ep19 'seeing red' which i largely ignore. actually ! yeah .. i don't feel that it is canon. in fact, spike already knew that he wanted to get his soul back prior to /that/ interaction, and so for my portrayal, i look at it as ... he feels he's not a man and not a demon, he's not the man that he needs to be, for her, to be hers, and so based on their relationship throughout s6, he comes to the conclusion that he always had: he goes and he gets his soul back!

oh yeah ... and there's this trio of incels warren, jonothan, and andrew. they try to fuck up buffy's life in "comical" and silly ways. warren gets tired of being beat by buffy so he decides to shoot her. he also manages to kill tara, and this sets willow off and dark willow is unleashed !!!! but don't worry bc xander saves the day and buffy lives because tara dies. it's tragic and terrible

verse. i owe myself an apology › season seven.

bc buffy got resurrected last season, it caused an imbalance between good and evil and something called 'the first evil,' is the big bad of the season

it's killing potential slayers and plans to raise a huge army of these ancient vampires that are practically unkillable

the watcher's council is destroyed ! everybody clap

buffy keeps a whole group of potential slayers in her house to train and protect them. oh and she's working at the high school now as a guidance counselor

spike has his soul back which means buffy can heal and be okay, because he's not empty anymore and neither is she. lots of good moments this season for them. they're married actually.

everyone in sunnydale evacuates bc the hellmouth gets worse!

faith comes back to help buffy's cause <3

there's a preacher called caleb and he's a misogynist. he's safe guarding this weapon - it's a scythe. buffy gets it and kills him with it !

angel comes to sunnydale and gives buffy an amulet that is to be worn by a 'champion' meaning vampire with a soul. so she gives it to spike.

they go down into the hellmouth to fight the ancient vampires as a unit. willow does a spell and it unleashes the potential slayers powers. now there are lots and lots of slayers, and buffy is no longer the only one! she is not alone! she is free!

spike's amulet harnesses the power of the sun and it unleashes onto the vampires, saving the world but also sacrificing himself in the end. also - buffy tells him she loves him and for the first time since angel, she means it :') and then he dies haha !

from wikipedia : in the end "dawn asks, "what are we going to do now?" buffy slowly begins to enigmatically smile as she contemplates the future ahead of her, ending the series on a hopeful note." SHE IS FREEEEEEEEE

verse. meanwhile / the world goes on › goodbye sunnydale.

basically everything after sunnydale. i don't follow the comics bc i haven't read them. i like to think that buffy rests. she has a big giant rest. i'll flesh this out later !

marvel verse: verse. it’s open season on all suckheads › the mcu.

verse. the strange and unexplained › xfiles.

[defectivevillain]

instinct & reason

pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Reader (can be platonic or romantic)

reader is masc-intended; race is ambiguous and no pronouns/physical descriptors are used.

summary: Yes, the undeniable facts are staring you straight in the face: Hannibal offered you shelter, food, water, and clothing without a word of expected repayment. Safe to say, you’ll be indebted to him for the duration of your stay here. But there’s no way to ensure he will remain so generous.

word count: 3.1k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical blood/violence/death, cannibalism, gore; canon-typical references to hunting and animal death

author's notes: Read The Most Dangerous Game and here we are. We're not surprised.

You’re not the biggest fan of boats. Even the prospect of a business trip to a country you’ve never visited isn’t enough to override your skepticism when it comes to traveling over the water. Your mind is always filled with worst-case scenarios: what if the boat capsizes, leaving you to float in the middle of the ocean? Of course, this kind of thinking only increases your paranoia. 

Then again, you almost feel vindicated now, as you tread water and stare at the boat that is quickly tearing through the water and abandoning you. Honestly, you’re not really sure how it happened: someone dropped something in the water, you leaned over the railing to look for it, the ship took a nasty turn as the wind kicked in, and you went tumbling down into the water. 

And what did the captain say this stretch of waters was called again? “Ship-Trap Island”? You would sigh, if you weren’t using all your energy to stay afloat. Fortunately, after a few minutes of swimming, you see an island in the distance. 

By the time you reach land, your muscles are burning and you can barely push yourself out of the water before you’re collapsing onto the shore. You lie there for several moments, trying to catch your breath. It appears you’ve landed on an inhabited island, because you think you can see light in the distance. It’s too far away for you to get to now, however; swimming to shore took all of your energy. It doesn’t take long for you to lose the fight against your fatigue and fall into an uneasy sleep. 

You rise with the sun hours later, blinking away traces of exhaustion and slowly pushing yourself to your feet. Your throat is dry and you’re hungry. You thought you saw light last night, but that could’ve easily been a figment of your overactive imagination. Taking a measured breath, you head off into the lush jungle that surrounds the land. 

Then you hear screaming. At first, you want to attribute it to the animals inhabiting the dense jungle. But if it’s a wounded animal, it’s certainly one you’ve never encountered. 

You can’t quite convince yourself to move closer to the sound. It’s clear there are human hunters on this island, if the occasional clearings of jungle brush are anything to go by. But hunters mean weapons. And there’s no guarantee they would see reason. You instead settle for exploring the jungle in hopes that you’ll find signs of a settlement. 

At some point, the afternoon sunlight begins to grow harsh as it illuminates your surroundings. You duck under a distorted tree branch and freeze in place as your eyes catch on a huge building disrupting the natural landscape. Its elegant architecture and well-crafted towers couldn’t look more out of place amidst the lush foliage of the island. Something about the building makes you uneasy, but you know you don’t have any choice other than to set foot inside it to look for assistance. You just need to figure out how to get up there: the building is set on a tall cliffside that drops off on three of the four sides. Frowning, you ascend the hill and eventually find a worn footpath carving its way up the cliff and towards the building. 

The gargantuan wooden doors swing open upon your arrival. Goosebumps rise along your arms as an elegant foyer is revealed, complete with a grand staircase and a solitary figure standing at the foot of it. “Welcome,” they say. You squint as the doors slide shut behind you, removing the obstructing sunlight and revealing a European man with sharp features and gleaming eyes. “My name is Hannibal Lecter. It is a pleasure to meet you, even under such dire circumstances.” 

You stare at him in disbelief, still struggling to accept that a person could survive and thrive on this island. If the palatial quality of the building isn’t perplexing enough, then the man’s attire is: he wears a dark three-piece suit and tie. Your mind doesn’t seem comfortable with digesting anything about this situation, so you make quick work of introducing yourself before falling quiet again. 

If the man—Hannibal—is thrown off by your silence, he doesn’t show it. “We won’t waste time,” he announces, breaking the distance between you to place a hand on your shoulder. The gesture confuses you: your clothes are still waterlogged from the seawater, and you’re practically shivering as the air conditioning digs into your skin. “I have plenty of food, water, and clothing to share with you. You may rest here.”

“Thank you,” you choke out, your voice slightly raspy from dehydration. You’re not sure what else to say. You’re a bit overwhelmed, truthfully. And while you’re unspeakably grateful for the assistance Hannibal is providing, you can’t help but wonder if it comes with a price. Very few people will help another sheerly out of the kindness of their hearts. And something about this island rubs you the wrong way.

Before you can contemplate the thought any longer, Hannibal is leading you up the stairs and into an empty bedroom. He opens the closet doors and looks about for a moment, before pulling out a rather simple outfit that looks to be your size. Then Hannibal shows you to the adjoining bathroom, before leaving you with the promise to return once dinner is ready. 

You take a long shower, practically melting under the hot stream as it washes away the salty ocean water and dirt. Your forearms are a bit scratched up from your foray through the jungle. When you finally emerge, you take a moment to simply breathe… before feeling the clothing you’ve been provided. It’s a breathable fabric, light and airy. You put the pants on first, before realizing you left the shirt back on the bed. 

It’s all wonderfully unfortunate timing. The moment you exit the bathroom and reach the bed, Hannibal is standing in the doorway. For a horrible moment, you’re just staring at him, entirely frozen. He’s staring back unabashedly. Inexplicably flustered, you throw your shirt on and follow him to the dining room. Along the way, you chance a few glances at him. Hannibal is pretty hard to read, it seems—but you swear he almost looks smug at the idea of being caught staring. 

Dinner proves an ample distraction from that strange interaction, and the air is soon filled with easy conversation. Hannibal asks you about yourself and you answer with a mix of honesty and ambiguity. He’s keen to describe his passions when the question is turned to him, which you take advantage of. You need to learn more about this man before you can bring yourself to trust him.

Yes, the undeniable facts are staring you straight in the face: he offered you shelter, food, water, and clothing without a word of expected repayment. Safe to say, you’ll be indebted to him for the duration of your stay here, and there’s no way to ensure he will remain so generous. 

Hannibal describes himself as a natural born hunter. He lives to hunt, or so he says. He tells you of his life as a young boy in Lithuania: how he killed his first animal at merely five years old. That particular tidbit is a bit troubling, but you realize you can’t exactly be picky in this situation. It’s only when he divulges his recent boredom with the animals on the island that you begin to grow apprehensive. Animals no longer pose a challenge to him, supposedly. 

Hannibal sums it up eloquently: “I sought a creature with both instinct and intellect.” It’s easy enough to read between the lines and understand what he’s implying… But it’s very hard to accept. You desperately hope you’re wrong. 

“Animals don’t have intellect,” you remember to murmur, your heart thudding away in your chest. There is one creature that possesses instinct and intellect—one that can wield both as it suits them. You suppose it could be considered an animal. Its hubris often overpowers that classification. 

“Some animals do.” Hannibal smiles. The remark is about as subtle as a slap to the face; your suspicions are confirmed. He isn’t hunting animals in the traditional sense; his game is bigger, and far more dangerous. 

“Humans?” You ask, nausea brewing in your chest. Every nerve in your body is restless, but you know attempting to run now won’t do you any good. He wants you to run, because he wants a chase. After all, Hannibal is a hunter. It’s easy for you to find your role after that recognition—you’re the prey. 

…Hannibal hunts humans. Revulsion, fear, horror, and misery are fighting for dominance in your mind as you struggle to come to terms with that gruesome reality. You find your attention unwittingly pulled to the dish you’ve been eating. After all, hunters often feast on their prey. Did Hannibal prepare a dish made from his victims? 

“Your dish is venison,” he clarifies, evidently noticing the distress on your face. You can’t quite trust his response. 

“Yours isn’t.” You realize in the same vein. Your stomach turns unpleasantly as you catalog the differences between the dishes. You wouldn’t be able to tell at first, but now that you look closely, the cuts of meat look slightly different. 

“I heard a scream this morning.” You continue, your vision sharpening to focus on some unseen point at the far wall. All of the pieces are slamming together with uncomfortable force. Suddenly, you’ve lost the rest of your appetite. You place your fork down and fight off the urge to escape as you watch Hannibal finish his meal. There’s something very dangerous about him. It’s growing abundantly clear that he is a practiced killer. Just how many times has he done this before? How many people has he lured in with a false sense of security, before they’re swiftly exterminated?

You spend the rest of the meal in a troubled haze, and you are only broken out of it by a hand on your shoulder. This time you can’t suppress the flinch that runs through your body, and Hannibal only smiles in response. “Allow me to take you to your room,” he offers. You have no choice but to follow after him as he makes his way through the building. There’s a tense silence between the two of you, with only the echoes of your footsteps breaking through it. 

You find silk pajamas folded neatly on the bed when you return to the bedroom. You’re struggling to keep your composure, ever-aware of Hannibal’s presence in the doorway. Eventually, he must grow bored, because he leaves you with one cryptic remark: 

“Tomorrow, the hunt will begin.” 

Time drags on like a thick sludge. When night falls, you can barely sleep—as you think about this trap Hannibal set for you. It’s clear this is far from the first time he’s done this. This building may have been constructed for that very purpose: for his hunt. The thought is sickening. And you can’t bring yourself to let your guard down and risk being completely vulnerable in your sleep. 

You spend what you assume to be a few hours fighting off sleep, before you’re finally pulled into its grasp. It’s a fitful sleep, dominated by nightmares filled with a twisted smirk on Hannibal’s face and your bloodied head on a pike. The first traces of sunlight peek through the blinds of the window hours later and you’re roused awake, your eyelids burning from your rather lackluster sleep. 

What follows is a very tense breakfast with Hannibal. He spends the duration of the meal studying you; you sit in silence and pretend not to notice. The placement of his silverware on his plate would be a relief, if not for the looming recognition that the “hunt” will soon begin. Indeed, Hannibal is quick to lead you into another room, where he gives you new clothing and a hunting knife. 

And then… you’re effectively released into the wild, as if you’re nothing more than a zoo animal. Hannibal explains that he’ll give you a three hour head start, before promptly turning on his heel and walking back into the building. You’re left standing in place, helplessly looking around as you try to get a feel for your surroundings. One despairing truth immediately comes to mind: Hannibal has a distinct advantage over you. Not only did he engineer this entire thing, but he must be intimately familiar with the layout of the island; the flora and the fauna; and the hand-to-hand combat skills needed to overpower a person. And then there’s you: shipwrecked, still sleep-deprived, and frustrated. There is no competition. He will find you and kill you in a heartbeat. There’s no point in even participating in this hunt. 

That thought gives you pause. It is utterly pointless to participate. So… why participate at all? Hannibal is expecting you to run—in fact, he wants you to. He wants a chase. And if a hunt is what thrills Hannibal…. then you won’t give him one. You’ve only taken a mere few steps from where he left you. And you’re quickly coming to the firm decision that you will remain here. This is the only option that will award you even a minute amount of agency. There’s a good chance you’ll die anyway, but at least you’ll die knowing you were more than just prey. 

The ensuing three hours are the longest three hours of your entire life. You spend the time standing still for a while, before beginning to pace around… then you sit down… And that cycle continues, for what feels like an eternity. You spend a good chunk of that time second-guessing yourself and fighting off the fear in your chest.

It feels like days later when the doors to the building slide open and you find Hannibal. He isn’t carrying a weapon (it doesn’t matter; he doesn’t need one). You can see the moment his eyes find yours: the moment comprehension dawns on him and he realizes you haven’t moved. You’ve trapped him—engineered a situation where killing you would be boring. And if there’s anything Hannibal seems to abhor, it’s boredom. 

Indeed, Hannibal looks furious, a calculated rage gleaming in his eyes as he approaches. A sudden spike of adrenaline screams at you to run and never look back; against all odds, you suppress it. You will not give this man his perverted game of cat-and-mouse. Instead, you watch him warily as he approaches—the hunting knife in your hand a small reassurance. 

When his voice finally breaks through the breezy silence, it is deceptively calm. “You have outsmarted me,” he states with a detached and clinical tone. It’s clear he’s uncomfortable with the notion. 

“You won’t kill me,” you respond. Your heart roars in your ears as his lips twist into a smile. 

“No,” Hannibal agrees, taking a step closer. Something lurches in your chest as he studies you with glittering eyes. His hand then travels from your shoulder, running up the expanse of your collarbone and stopping at your neck. 

It happens as quick as lightning. He tightens his grip; in response, you bring the hunting knife up to his neck. Hannibal blinks, something of an indulging smile on his face as his hand slips from your throat. Immediately you’re struck with the reality of the situation: he is allowing you this momentary glimpse of power, security. But Hannibal has the power here. He is always the hunter, never the one being hunted. 

His hand comes to cradle the side of your face, a gesture that would almost be intimate if not for the tumultuous storm of emotions running through you. Your knife is still pointed at Hannibal’s throat, but he doesn’t seem to care—instead tilting your head left and right. Your brows furrow in annoyance at this treatment, which only seems to amuse him. Then, finally, his hand falls and he takes a step back. 

“You intrigue me.” He hums. Then, Hannibal turns his back and heads for the house. You stare at him in disbelief, before beginning to understand what he’s doing. He’s baring his back to you because he doesn’t view you as a threat. He thinks—or maybe even knows—that you won’t hurt him when his back is turned. 

For a moment, though, you contemplate sinking the knife into his back; you imagine the flicker of surprise that passes over his face, before it’s smoothed over by indifference. You can almost smell the blood in the air, taste your remorse, feel your guilt threatening to break you down. You can see—perhaps too easily—yourself tearing into him, wrenching his ribs apart and cracking them off one by one. 

In your indecision, you lose your advantage. Hannibal is standing in the doorway to his home now, waiting for you with a quirk to his lips. Frustrated and helpless, you follow after him and do as he requests of you: take a shower; join him for dinner. Beyond that, you’re left to your own devices—with no idea when or where you’ll be tested again. 

You’re trapped in this sprawling tower overlooking the ocean’s choppy waters. You’ve entertained virtually every avenue of escape, but each is more unlikely than the last: jump out the window and get skewered by the sharp rocks below; wait for a rescue party that will certainly never come; attempt to reason with Hannibal. As for that last one… You’d have a better chance jumping out the window. Predators like Hannibal cannot be reasoned with—not when they see you as nothing more than a particularly troublesome specimen for their dissection. 

When nightfall finally arrives, you burrow under the soft covers on the bed and close your eyes, the jungle around the island humming and buzzing with life. You’re even more fatigued than last night, but you know sleep will be just as difficult to find. That look on Hannibal’s face is ingrained in your memory—the mere remembrance sends a chill down your spine. As you stare up at the ceiling restlessly, you can’t help but wonder if you would have been better off dead. Sure, you survived a day. But that intense gaze of Hannibal’s promises nothing but an existence dominated by constant wariness and danger. He will always be a predator. You will always be his prey. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But someday he will unhinge his jaw and tear his teeth into you, putting a permanent end to your uneasy life on this paradoxical island.

thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

friendly reminder that i don't give permission for my writing to be shared to other sites, stolen, copied, translated, or used in any way. thanks!

hannibal taglist: @its-ares @tobbotobbs @xrisdoesntexist @gr1mmac3 @tiredstarcerberuslamb @yourlocalratwriter @kingkoku @kahuunknown @atlas-king1 @pendragon-writes @slipknotcentury @cryinersaved @the-ultimate-librarian @starre-eyes @pendragon-writes @peterparkeeperer @gayschlatt69 @flow33didontsmoke @mrgatotortuga @house-of-1000-corpses-fan (I swear one of these days I'll have an update for winding labyrinth......)

[absolutebl]

Rules: List 10 of your comfort shows

tagged by @he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle (thanks doll)

I rarely pass along tags but you should do this one and tag me if you do so I can see, comfort watches are my absolute FAVORITE.

This is a BL blog and I've watched most of them, so I will be picking BL. But I will only be picking BL I am rewatching for comfort right NOW.

Some of these may surprise. Ready?

My Top 10 Comfort BL's right NOW

1 kiss x kiss x kiss - perfect scandal (short)

My favorite of this series because it's basically office romance sexy bits we all wanted from Old Fashion Cupcake.

2 Jun & Jun

his show made up for in style what it lacked in substance. I like fluff. I loved this. I smile every moment I'm watching. This is very much MY style of BL.

3 Love is Science (BL cut)

Mark and Ouwen gotta be one of my all time favorite side dishes. LIS? is a noona romance with added mature side couple as well as these two, mostly interwoven. It’s a big buy in just for Mark & Ouwen but WORTH IT, and some kind soul uploaded a BL cut to YT. Everything is a touch quirky but the BL boys are beautiful, earnest, and high heat. It's one of Taiwan's favorite dynamics: the bisexual himbo meets the confident gay, but they are just LOVELY, plus tiny queer family at the end.

4 2 Moons 3

What can I say, it's utter trash but there is something about the main couple I love. A Thai pulp that felt like it came out 5 yrs ago with many of the flaws inherent to that time and studio system, including manufactured angst and convoluted plot, but an ultimately sweet main couple that (as a pairing) feels a bit more modern and is satisfying to watch. This will probably go down in history as one of the few BLs where I genuinely didn’t care about any of the side couples.

5 Love Class 2

But only "my couple." ( the mature student and the TA). I still hold that they probably should’ve had their own series.

6 Big Dragon

I didn't love this when it first aired but I am coming around to it more on the rewatch. (I may even up its score from 7 to 8 if the eventual movie sticks the landing). This is a pairing that proved itself to be a lot more sophisticated than I expected with nods at kink in a more respectful way than Mame could ever dream, plus excellent chemistry.

7 Why R U? Korea

The Korean remake of Why RU? is BOTH bizarro land, and EXACTLY what I expected. There is something comforting in watching the Cliff's notes version of a show I enjoyed before just in a different BL style. I don't know why I like this one so much, but I really do.

8 Takara & Amagi

I gnawed on my knuckles and squealed a lot with this show first time around. Now I still love it but I'm more calm. It is beyond charming: soft and gentle, packed with cuteness and high school angst, thirst, & yearning.

9 About Youth

A truly lovely little coming of age high school BL with a classic YA low drama but high angst and an earnest depth.

Clearly I'm having a bit of a high school phase because I've been thinking of doing this one next:

10 My School President

Yes, we’ve seen it all before, but I still ADORED this. And there is a lot to be said for the classics being re-executed perfectly. Who let my BL be this wholesome and funny?

[f0point5]

After these race week-ends, where nothing is working like it should, do you imagine what Max and Emilia would do afterwards to kinda.. calm/wind down? (Other than getting steamy..)

If you do, would you mind sharing, maybe in a cliff notes version if you don't feel like writing a whole piece?

Oh I had headcanons about this after today! So here goes:

- Emilia looking at Jos in the driver room and going “do not say anything to make this worse”. Jos responding “how could I make it worse? Did you watch what I watched? That was a fucking disaster”

- Max storming in and immediately saying “that was a fucking disaster”

- Emilia saying “well damn, it turns out Red Bull really does give you wings. You sailed” and nobody laughs

- Max, Jos, and Raymond have a mini debrief and Emilia stays quiet. She puts her hoodie over Max’s lap to hide the fact that she’s holding his hand because she knows he’s stressed

- She packs his stuff up while he’s with the team so they can leave quickly

- She lets Jos talk Max’s ear off all the way to the airport but once they’re on the jet she switches the conversation

- She shows Max the tiktok she filmed to the “So High School” bridge and jokes about that time RB made him and Daniel play American football and then she begs him for the millionth time to come with her to the Eras Tour

- Shows him all her Budapest purchases

- Tells him she’s booked a surprise trip for the summer break

- Literally anything to get him not focus on the race. She carries the conversation, doesn’t stop talking, doesn’t give him a minute to dwell on things. Eventually he’s loosening up, and laughing with her

- He finally laughs at her sailing joke

- Jet sex

- By the time they land in France Max is hella relaxed 🫣

[nc-vb]

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧

note -> pls accept this little Scaramouche/gn!reader blurb from last year as an apology for being bad at updating? it was part of the original version of Heartstrings, but the plot has since changed anyway, so... ya.

warnings -> none; takes place after the delusion factory chapter in Inazuma; reader is a Fatui executive under Scaramouche with a vision that can heal...

words -> 1.9k

“You…” Your hands having risen instinctively at his appearance, you swallow thickly awhile trying to come up with a not-so-suspicious greeting. “Lord Scaramouche, sir, I-I… What are you doing here, sir?”

Arms crossed, chin raised, and eyebrow cocked, “I’ll have you answer that very same question for me. What business did you have at the Grand Narukami Shrine after dealing with the Traveler?”

“Er… being in Inazuma has left me feeling more spiritually inclined than normal, sir, so… I-I’ve decided to take up on religion,” you mumble flatly, immediately inwardly cursing at yourself for spouting such a shitty lie.

“Funny. Try again.” You sigh at him.

“I’d heard once… that you had ties here in Inazuma,” you start, your tone quieter than usual. “Rather than bother you with my questions, I… initially came here to check on the Traveler’s condition, but then… I ended up… speaking with Guuji Yae, but…”

Scaramouche shuffles his hands to his hips, looking almost pleased by the idea of you being turned away. “Oh, the fox woman wouldn’t tell you?”

You shake your head. “Not exactly. When we started speaking of… other things, I decided I’d rather chance waiting for you to want to answer me, yourself, if I ever asked them. If you ever wanted to answer me.”

Scaramouche’s hard gaze seems to linger on you from beneath his hat, something that leaves you warm, cagey, and a little concerned that just maybe, he doesn’t believe your ignorance to be false, after all.

“I simply… was worried about you,” you add.

“Worried,” he parrots, sounding almost offended. “Why would I need you to worry about me?”

“If you’re suddenly seeing things as if I’m making you out as weak or as looking down on you, that’s not what’s happening here, sir.” Past him, you look to the cliffs you knew would eventually bring you to a lesser shrine but a moment after feeling the sharp crawl of electricity creep up your back. “Could we walk and talk, sir? The Electro energy the mountain channels is starting to fry the hair off my arms…”

“… fine.”

And so, you lead the way, trapped between the quiet of a promised conversation and your nerves, unable to speak and walk at the same time. It’s a surprise to you, just how patient the Balladeer is being. Perhaps in your constant busyness, with your typically need to leave your Harbinger stress-free from these menial duties, you’ve never truly noticed just how differently the man walking beside you treats you. How much more patience he has for you versus the rest of his underlings. It didn’t even have to do with you being his second-in-command, because if it were anybody else in your position, this conversation might not have gone so non-aggressively. At the very least, what’s mutual knowledge between the two of you is that your relationship has always been one of respect, and not one drowned for fear of him like the others have so easily admitted to.

Finally, having descended the rest of the mountain, now far away from the crackling and sizzling of its natural Electro pond, you lead the Balladeer to the front of the abandoned shrine, to sit at its steps and take a large breath. Scaramouche remains standing, arms at his sides, eyebrows now pinched.

“S-So… I just… recalled,” you clear your throat, eyes flitting up to meet his briefly before flying back down into your lap, “that you had a look on your face when the Tsaritsa gave the order to have us come out to Inazuma. I remember you once saying that you were from here, and I was only wanting to be prepared to help you in any way I could. And then, the next look on your face when you were given the Gnosis by Guuji Yae…”

“And so, your first choice of preparation was to go and gather intel on me from that fox envoy?” he queries.

“I-I suppose,” you murmur. “I didn’t want to overstep or… um…”

“Or what?”

“… or make you sad.” You finally look up at him, not in sudden confidence, but of the pure desire to simply look at him. As per usual, his impassiveness shines clear as day in the night air, illuminated by the lanterns glowing along the shrine’s engawa. “Lord Scaramouche, Lady Guuji Yae did not tell me of your history by my own request. Instead, she helped me reach a certain point of clarity of myself regarding you… That the reason I sought her out to speak about you was more b… because…”

“You’re burning the midnight oil, here, ______.”

You huff at him. “It’s because I’ve grown extremely fond of you,” you finally blurt. “Romantically, if that wasn’t clear. I-In other words, I believe I’ve fallen in love with you, Lord Scaramouche.”

… there is a moment of silence that leaves your heart aching. At the very least, you’d expected a retort, or a comment of disapproval for bothering him with something that might’ve seemed so trivial to a man like him, but in his wordlessness, he simply stands before you, eyes trained hard in your direction.

Throwing his foot up against one of the steps to your left, you find yourself suddenly trapped between him and the railing, the air in your chest swirling. And everything happens all too quickly – his hand finding the crown of your head to tilt it toward him; his gaze rising and falling between your widened eyes and your parted lips; his subtlety in wetting his own dried lips, tongue darting carefully past his teeth to soften them, before leaning into you and pressing them firmly against yours.

You can’t control the noise that escapes you, nor your instinct to brace yourself against your surroundings — the porch, the step beneath you, the railing, his chest — in your attempt at registering the Sixth Harbinger’s actions.

He is unmoving in them, indigo eyes half-lidded as he studies your face, your reaction to him. When he just barely moves his mouth upwards, his lower lip slotting between the two of yours, and carefully moves his hand to fall to your nape, he catches your flinch of surprise, feels your fingers tighten around the sleeves of his shirt. In pulling away, he hears your small noise of disappointment, and takes in the heat resting upon the apples of your cheeks.

“L-Lord Scaramouche,” you pant, and from the corner of your mouth, you lick away the bit of saliva that remained. Was it yours? His? He’s not sure he cares.

“What?” he says, tone accosting. “Wasn’t that the definition of the “love” that you desired from me? You and I have worked together for long enough to know that that is an undeniable impossibility, and yet you still decided that the best course of action to take would be a confession?”

“I-It’s not so simple like that!” you argue, and you push his leg off the step and stand up, now an extra foot or so taller than the man. “A confession – my confession to you – is not something so fleeting; it’s not some passing emotion I’ve suddenly started feeling because I spoke to Guuji Yae. This is something I know I’ve felt since the first days I began working for you, something I’ve tried to ignore for both our sakes, and for the longest time, it worked. I managed to be good at keeping our relationship professional.

“And you’re right— we have worked together long enough that I could feel safe in telling you my truth. All I could hope for was maybe some understanding, and in a long shot, maybe a bit of reciprocation. Either way, I’d at least have something off of my chest.” You glare down at the man, fingers twitching— “A-And just so you know, I’m going to be kissing you again after that, because speaking frankly, sir, you… are an awful kisser!” – before reaching for his shirt with them and tugging him up and toward you.

He jolts, thrown off by the height difference the staircase offered and by your sudden bravado, gripping at either railing of the shrine’s staircase. Your lips, as warm as the heat that seemed to radiate from you, as soft as he’d experienced them to be the first time he’d touched them, press against his. You can only dare in closing your eyes that he wouldn’t retaliate, but you still half-expect him to push you away and scold you, something said in his flavour of retaliation and ridicule. But his hands give rise to where your hands stretch out the material of his shirt, skinny fingers wrapping tightly around the bones of your wrists to spin you off the higher step and onto equal ground.

Pulling away from you, a smirk crawls onto his visage. “And who gave you permission to speak frankly in the first place?” he asks. You can’t tell if his tone is serious and taunting or humoured and teasing. You swallow when he leans further into you, your heart racing, his lips pausing just before your ear. “Insulting your superior officer,” he whispers to you, a dry chuckle escaping him a second later when he returns to face you. “That’ll get you places.”

Taunting and teasing, you decide shakily.

To your surprise, the Balladeer leans into you once more, his glistening, parted lips slotting between yours, hands slowly moving to take hold of your cheeks in his attempt at keeping you close. It’s sloppy, teeth clacking together at times, and a little wet, but your heart threatens to burst with joy and relief at his effort, his reciprocation being something you wouldn’t have expected him to put any into.

A hand of your own raises to take the smooth curve of his jawline into your palm. He mumbles against your murmurs, and grunts at the wet, wriggling sensation invading his mouth. Their tongue? he realizes, doing poorly to mask his shock at how pleasant he finds the feeling to be. Unpredictable as per his usual routine, he returns the gesture, his own joining with yours to swirl and dance in the space between you. The softest of moans escapes him, and he tears away from you, embarrassed and breathing sharply, his pale cheeks tinted with the softest of rouge and lips tainted by your mixture of saliva.

Your laughter is faint as you lick away the liquid gathered along your own.

“So…” Scaramouche glances at you from beneath his newly summoned hat, barely having time to recover when you’ve shot him a look unfamiliar to him—it’s startling, how warm it makes him feel; how unfocused his mind is when your gazes lock; how impossible he finds it to begin stringing words into a sentence after what he’d engaged in – dazed, your eyelids flutter on incident at him, and in that starstruck, awestruck daze, “Did any of that get me anywhere with you?”

— until these words exit your mouth, that is. Your flippant attitude was not something he’d accounted for in the aftermath, and even worse, you’d caught him in a moment of vulnerability and weakness and decided to deliver them before he could collect himself.

“Something like that,” he says, tone breathy with exasperation, his eyes having rapidly widened at you. You chuckle nervously in response, daring to reach forward and adjust his slightly tilted kasa. He turns on the spot when you’re finished, clearing his throat, and beginning the rest of your descent down from the base of Mount Yougou. “Come along, then. We’ve got work to do.”

© nc-vb/niicevibe 2022-2023 please don’t repost! reblogs & comments are always appreciated.

[sexhaver]

ive made this post multiple times before and will probably make it again but the worst part of getting medicated for ADHD is that the two main effects are:

mentally, you become God. everything is easy, easier than easy. things that were impossible unmedicated are insultingly trivial on 50mg Vyvanse XR. focus, executive function, sociability, memory - everything is cranked up to 11 and then has the knob ripped off. this isn't gradual, either; you can physically feel yourself go from a barely-conscious husk to the physical embodiment of efficiency over the course of 15 minutes while the THX noise plays nonstop and keeps ramping up the entire time.

physically, you break yourself in every way that matters. you grind your teeth to dust and develop TMJ until you forget there was a time when you didn't wake up every morning with a headache from clenching your jaw all night. you genuinely just forget to eat or drink for 6 hours at a time until your doctor-approved meth wears off and you can suddenly hear everything your body has been screaming, begging for you to do since breakfast. the comedown itself is hell incarnate, feeling like being dropped off a cliff onto spikes a mile below. this happens every afternoon for the rest of your life, and you know it's coming the whole time.

this leads to the following outcomes:

the first point is extremely visible to everyone in your life, often times even more so than it is to yourself.

not only does everyone else notice that you're suddenly acting differently, they like that version of you way more. i know this sounds like depressive thinking, but i have literally been told this exact line to my face multiple times. you become a less flaky friend to your peers and a more consistent worker to your boss/coworkers. by all externally visible measures, you become an objectively better person to be around.

the second point is invisible to everyone except you 99% of the time.

the other 1% of the time, they notice the side effects because the clock struck midnight 6pm and the carriage turned back into a pumpkin your meds suddenly wore off. as far as an external observer is concerned, you suddenly went from being bubbly and fun to hang out with to a hangry cranky drain on everyone's energy in 10 minutes flat.

living with these inescapable facts every single day for years on end naturally leads to the following conclusions:

"When I feel bad/stressed, everyone else likes me. When I feel good/relaxed, everyone else dislikes me."

"Feeling good is an indication that I am currently doing something wrong, or am forgetting to do something entirely. In either case, it means everyone else in my life dislikes me."

"Feeling bad is not just an indication that I am doing something right, it's a prerequisite. Unless I feel bad, nobody else in my life likes me."

"Nobody else cares how I feel, they never will, and anyone saying otherwise is a liar. Sure, people understand that they have to say they care about my feelings to avoid sounding like sociopaths, but the fact that those same people consistently like me better when I'm medicated and doing nice stuff for them (while screaming internally and grinding my teeth to dust) than when I'm unmedicated and relaxing proves that they're full of shit."

"Since I'm literally the only person who cares about my own happiness (see above), and everyone else on Earth is happier when I'm suffering, it's not just difficult for me to fight depression and assert my self-worth - it's actively harming everyone else around me."

eventually you learn to turn off your feelings for a while to get through especially bad patches, but the entire thought process never goes away and eventually starts impacting how you view other people. i don't have a hopeful note to end this post on.

[crazylittlejester]

I have a fantastic idea: an Impa Meets AU. If I had the time to do this, I would. But, I am going to shake my idea around in your face because I want to. Somewhat incoherently might I add

So, why would they meet? Some cataclysmic event spanning the timelines wouldn’t necessarily call for any Impa’s help, not on their own anyways.

Here’s where AoC Impa comes in. I haven’t played the game(just the demo a few years ago), but I’ve gathered that her personality is a bit more similar to Lana than to other Impas. I’d wager that after the Calamity was over, she would feel just a bit lost on what to do next. She just so happens to ponder out loud about what her ancestors would’ve done in her shoes with Purah nearby. She instantly gets an amazing idea to use the newly repaired Terrako’s help to see (and maybe even visit 👀) other times in Hyrule.

Since Hyrule Warriors Link’s outfit is something AoC Link can wear in the game, he is likely at least somewhat well known in that time. So that could be the first time the AoC crew visit. This can also just lead to an AoCxHW crossover, but it’s Impa time. So let’s have her get stranded in that time due to ✨hijinks✨

She curses out Terrako’s name in both annoyance and fear. Cause like, she has no idea how to get back to her own time now. Cue HW Impa strolling in and looking at the tantrum-having Sheikah in front of her.

AoC Impa is ecstatic at actually meeting one of her ancestors. But she does also want to go home like, right this instant. So HW Impa helps her out by first trying to figure out where Lana is. From now on I’m referring to AoC Impa as Youngin and HW Impa as Commander.

Youngin gets to meet all of the HW cast, learning about in detail what had happened during that game’s events. She especially stick close to Commader, begging her for advice to share. Commander feels like she’s going to explode the whole time, but tries to answer Youngin’s questions as best as she can. Then, they eventually meet up with Lana(and also Cia I guess idk). Lana offers to help bring Youngin back to her time, but she is now inspired and invigorated. She wants to visit all the other times and other Impas, gaining their wisdom to help out everyone in her own time, to get her Hyrule back on it’s feet as soon as possible and to make it greater than every before! Lana loves her enthusiasm, Commander does not. She acknowledges Youngin’s courage and power, but doesn’t think it’s wise to just send her off to other times on her own.

So now Commander is joining Youngin on her time traveling adventure! Lana makes it so that they’ll be able to freely travel to different set times along the timeline, with magical pocket watches for the both of them. Plus a couple extra, just in case other Impas want to join in on the fun.

The adventure begins! No real stakes, just a fun time. We need more of those imo. Anyways, they would travel to different time and Youngin would be constantly jotting down notes about the places they go to, while Commander has to make sure she doesn’t accidentally fall off of a cliff. A few other Impas would join them, but it’s mostly focused on these two. The most important times they would visit would be the Spirit Tracks and Wind Waker times, which would give Youngin some great ideas on how to help out her kingdom.

Then, nearing the end of the adventure, all the Impas would go back to their own times. Youngin would bring Commander along to her own time, having her meet all of her friends. Commander asks for them to please not time travel, the timeline is already messed up enough lamo. But then they would go see the BoTW time, just to see what had happened, and to thank the Champions for all their help. Then, Youngin would go back to her own time again, waving Commander off as she goes back to her own time. And now, Youngin is determined to make her Hyrule the best version of it that she can make it, with the help of ALL of her friends.

That’s like, the baseline, the gist of it. Hope you enjoyed my little idea, and I hope you have a great rest of your day!

I’m sorry but the idea that the Links (arguably the silliest little guys alive) have to deal with the Big Bad while the Impas (arguably some of the smartest women to ever exist) get to be silly and just kinda do shenanigans is SO funny and oh my god I love this SO much. This is absolutely incredible, what a fantastic idea, I’m obsessed /gen

[cookeybg]

Autumn's Loss of Petals - Chapter 2

Title: Autumn's Loss of Petals

Various POVs : Damian Wayne, Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson

Tags: Angst, Loss of love, amnesia, brotherly love, familial love, will add more if relevant

Obviously, I do not own any of the rights to any of the DC comics, animated cartoons or movies and I am not getting paid to write this. This is purely for my enjoyment :)

Note: I will be experimenting with different POV's for this fic, but they will all be Damian-centric.

Word Count: 1,031

Table of Contents

Chapter 2 - Tim

It had been a couple of days since Damian's surgery and the boys watched their youngest brother aimlessly walking through the gardens of the villa. The doctor had recommended that he should stay far from any place where there could be possible memories of the one who had been the cause of the Hanahaki disease. Bruce decided to buy a private villa in California. He hoped that the warm sun and beach side view would invigorate him while the sound of crashing waves would relax him. Damian touched the roses as he walked by, eventually sitting on a stone bench that overlooked the ocean. The blue sky meeting the water was broken by white clouds, small sail boats and seagulls. They had bought Damian new art supplies, afraid of any drawings he might have in his old sketchbook. Tim had been the one to suggest it, having a suspicion as to who was the cause of his predicament. The pair watched as their brother just sat there without lifting his pencil, without opening the pad. "It's really weird seeing him like this." Jason muttered. "Yeah." Tim said "Is it normal for him to look …so lost?" Jason waved his hand in the air. Tim didn't answer. They both stood in the opening of the large glass doors. The villa was relatively small with only four bedrooms and a one story floor plan, it was built on a cliff overlooking the ocean. The front of the house was private with large hedges blocking outside eyes, while the back had floor to ceiling windows two of which could be opened fully to let the outside and inside become one. Comfortable outdoor furniture littered the deck, complete with a bar, a fire pit, and an automatic shade which was currently tucked away under the roof. A few steps down and the deck was met with lush green grass, big enough to play catch, or in their case to be able to train, and the edges had various flowers neatly growing. "Well, I'm going to make lunch." Jason walked towards the kitchen. The open floor plan let Tim watch both his brothers. Dick and Bruce had left to go back to Gotham since they had many responsibilities to take care of. Dick had promised to return with his wife and kid once Damian was a bit more settled. Tim was honestly surprised that Jason had stayed as long as he had, he had expected him to leave the moment that he found out Damian was okay, he had lingered with a dark disposition. Tim could relate, it was hard when the enemy wasn't something you could punch and then put away. Their youngest brother was dealing with something much more complicated, something that only a small percentage ever dealt with. When he had found out that he had contracted that disease…well he honestly couldn't believe it, this was Damian, their little demon, it had taken a lot of family work to even have him admit that he had siblings and all of a sudden he had a debilitating, pure love, that couldn't come into fruition. Instead of it being like most crushes and heartbreaks where a person can move on, look back at it with sad fondness, his had tried killing him. On second thought maybe it was on brand, the kid tended to be all or nothing.

Tim rubbed the bridge of his nose, a habit picked up from Bruce. He sighed to himself and looked at the young man who was looking up at the blue sky, the breeze fluttering his hair. He pictured a younger version curled up, sketching and glaring at him whenever he walked into the room, his acerbic attitude never fully leaving him as he grew, just softened a bit. He was not a child anymore, he was a young man of 23, he couldn't help but see the child he had arrived as. He couldn't imagine the pain he must have gone through, the disease must have been hurting for years, far longer than it should, for it to get to the point it had. It upset him that no one had noticed, that he, one of the best detectives hadn't noticed, the brat had hid it well. The memory of that day found it's way to the forefront of his thoughts. Damian had been choking, doubled over on the bed, his face turning purple with the effort it took to extricate the blockage. The doctor had pressed the emergency button almost immediately and the nurses had shoved them to one corner of the room. Tim had not been able to peel his eyes away, he doubted any of the others could either, they watched as their youngest had successfully hacked up the thing, his face turning paler by the second, blood spilling from his mouth. He had looked so small, so pale and he had smiled at the bloody thing, it fell to the ground in the hallway when he had fallen back on the mattress, the doctor giving instructions to the staff, his urgency growing. Tim had picked it up, its white waxy petals perfectly formed, it's overwhelming sweet scent mixing with the horror that had just occurred, red droplets decorating it like jewels. Pure love, a held secret, cherished; Tim had looked up the significance of a white gardenia and he could only think of one person Damian could possibly feel that towards. The bastard had arrived, in a rush, to the hospital, panicked from Damian's weak heartbeat. It had taken everything in him not to punch the jerk, to hate him, but there was no point, it was, technically, not his fault. He glanced at Jason, the smell from the kitchen stirring up the hunger he hadn't known he felt, if he had told anyone else they might not have been as logical. Maybe he could do something small, like have his messages blocked from all his contacts for a while or sign him up for a subscription of random magazines. No, Damian wouldn't appreciate that. Either way he would think of something, if only to alleviate his guilt, this feeling of helplessness.

[delusionaid]

[ Meta ] + Mourning (Morax)

For some people grief looks very chaotic and comes in bursts of sadness, anger, despair. They throw or break things, they cry loudly, they scream, they feel too much at once and don't know what to do with it. Barbatos, for example, would cause a storm that shakes the nation in deep grief. For Morax I imagine grief to be the opposite; his mourning is stagnant. He slows down.

After spending centuries with Guizhong, he became more animated than he was when she first met him; he lived life more consciously by taking an interest in the mortals they ruled and taking note of aspects of the world that never caught his attention before. He moved and was moved more than before. (Don't read this 100% literally, I don't literally mean he became "more physically active", he obviously moved plenty in battle ;)).

When she died, things came to a halt for him - at least once they could. The war was still ongoing, the people of Liyue needed to be brought to safety, so he couldn't just stop and grieve, even if he wanted to. But eventually he slowed down, in a way regressed to a version of himself before her - or something that resembled that. (Temporarily.) He would sit for a long period of time in silence and speak to nothing and nobody. He would avoid their people and the friends who remained and just sit on a cliff or a hill and overlook the land. Like a rock. That is what mourning looks like for him. (Depending on how we think about Osial, the anger over her death and the destruction of the Plains, came first. He moves as long as he has to and then he turns to stone.)

It has to be a great grief, however, to immobilize him in such a way. He'll always grow more silent and distant and seek solitude when he experiences sadness, but the kind of mourning that makes him shut out the world and turn to stone in such a way has its root in a great loss. He's not a wildfire, spurred on by his pain; he hardens and becomes even more unrelenting than he already is. Getting him out of this state also is not easy; unless he is really needed he might stay in it for a long while, unresponsive and unyielding. What happens inside of him during those phases, however, you need to unlock friendship level 5932 for to find out.

[the-elusive-soleil]

Thinking again about a Silmarillion TV series, and how I would set it up if I were High King of Hollywood and also copyright law (long post):

Let's say we have a three-season setup. Three Silmarils, three acts, and everyone making and watching it knows there's a predetermined endpoint. No spiraling out into infinity, no matter how popular it gets. And I'll roughly hazard ~8 episodes per season; that seems to be the average amount these days.

Will there be whooping great battle sequences? Probably. But as is my wont, I'm focusing more on the ~interpersonal drama~

Season 1 would start off like I've posted about before, with Finwe telling the Ainulindale as a story to kid!Feanor, as a segue to bringing up the remarriage, and then a post-opening-credits cut to Feanor as an adult. We're in the very early YT 1400s. In the first episode, we're laying a lot of groundwork for a Normal Day in Tirion. Various members of the House of Finwe are introduced, and we get a sense for the familial and political landscape. Everybody seems to believe that life is completely perfect--and then there's Feanor, who knows it's not.

And then the news comes that Melkor is being released on parole.

In the next couple of episodes, we see reactions to this, through dinner-table conversations and such in each of the three households. People are tense, but...for the most part, life goes on.

Except for Feanor, who gets an Idea and eventually unveils the Silmarils.

Through part of the third episode and escalating through the fourth, we start to see Melkor stirring the Noldor up. They're making weapons, and the political tensions are starting to get higher. The different sets of Finwean cousins are training with swords and such, and coming up with increasingly thin excuses to each other as to how they picked up those minor injuries.

Episode four ends with a bang, as Feanor's sword incident and banishment occur.

Episode five jumps five years ahead to the festival in Tirion that Feanor's supposed to go to. We get the "jail-crow of Mandos" scene in flashback as he leaves the Silmarils behind. Everything seems fine on the surface, but the background music keeps slowly increasing in tension, and everyone's happiness is just a little too frenetic--and then the Trees go out.

Next episode, we get the Oath, the Flight of the Noldor, the Kinslaying, Losgar. (We're keeping the version where Amrod lives btw.)

(Side note: I think it would be very cool if we got little flashes of foreshadowing that gradually escalate as time goes on. Give me shots of Maitimo's right hand that linger just a little too long. Give me Maglor or Curufin in an early episode, talking about upcoming wedding vows that bear a suspicious resemblance to what the Oath will be. Give me Finrod wrestling with a family dog; give me Turgon and Aredhel teasing each other about his love of cities and how she'd rather die than be kept from running wild. Give me Feanor by firelight, Feanor being gently reminded by Nerdanel that he doesn't have to rush ahead and tackle a dozen projects all at once, Feanor insisting over and over again that things need to be written down and portrayed and preserved because nothing is really, actually permanent...)

Episode seven cuts back and forth between the people struggling across the Helcaraxe and the Feanorians in Middle-earth. The Feanorians fight orcs and lose Feanor, and the Helcaraxe group has their own battles with ice monsters and also the sheer. horrible. cold. Maybe we can have Fingon and Turgon and Aredhel arguing about the Feanorions along the way. Maybe we can have the argument cut short by Elenwe falling through the ice. Maybe we can have that lead Turgon to reiterate that the Feanorions are Doomed and have doomed everyone else with them - and then cut to Maedhros about to ride out to parley with Morgoth.

The episode ends with the Nolofinweans mourning Elenwe, and Maedhros being dragged out to hang from a cliff.

Season finale starts with the Nolofinweans arriving. There is most definitely an emotional, sweepingly epic sequence of the Thangorodrim rescue, the stuff edits and gifsets are made of. And we end with Maedhros ceding the crown, and with Fingolfin's coronation.

Season 2 starts with the Mereth Aderthad, which gives us a chance to catch up, via dialogue, with how everybody's been settling in and what they're planning to do next. We also get the skinny on Thingol and Melian and Doriath. (Luthien should definitely be mentioned at least once.) (Celegorm should definitely be in the shot when she's mentioned, although 50/50 whether he visibly pays attention or reacts.)

We get Finrod and Turgon's dream sequences and them discovering the places where they're going to put their respective cities. Also Artanis meets this Guy...

Dagor Aglareb is probably an episode 2 thing. After it, and after any significant conflict this season (attack on Hithlum, Glaurung, etc.), there should be someone assuming out loud that they are now past the worst of things. Bonus points if there is fire in the background of the shot when the person says this.

We meet Dwarves. I think the optimal way to handle the Dwarves-and-Caranthir thing is to have them be very blunt and no-frills with each other, and leave it up to interpretation whether this is actually them getting along.

Finrod, of course, is so very (gestures demonstratively) Finrod at his Dwarves, and also at the Men when they show up.

(checks timeline) Maeglin is born in YS 320, and he and Aredhel flee to Gondolin in YS 400, and Andreth is born in YS 361. I think it could be interesting to start out an episode with Aredhel being snared and having Maeglin, and interspersing creepy Nan Elmoth stuff with Aegnor/Andreth and Athrabeth stuff. Towards the end, Finrod has a conversation to the effect that it's not just that Aegnor and Andreth's romance was doomed, it's that they're all doomed here (possibly referencing the Amarie situation) and there is no way to have a good love story under such circumstances. And then, of course, we have Aredhel and Maeglin running to Gondolin (and Maeglin meeting Idril) and the deaths of Aredhel and Eol.

I have less of a specific outline for this season, because I want a lot of it to be filled up with...just Long Peace stuff. I want to see the Noldor having their Beleriand Renaissance. I want to see hunting trips that give us beautiful sweeping shots of the landscape, and glittering social events laced with politics, and little moments of relationships between different characters.

Basically, I want this season to make it very clear just how much stands to be lost here.

And then, of course, the season finale is the Dagor Bragollach, culminating in Fingolfin's last stand against Morgoth.

Season 3 opens with the utter chaos that is the aftermath of the Bragollach. We also get to meet Hurin and Huor and see their visit to Gondolin, which contrasts so sharply with the state of things literally everywhere else.

The first episode also introduces us to this random human guy named Beren, out there in the wilderness. And it ends with him stumbling on something in Doriath...

Second episode is just ~*Beren and Luthien*~. It has a very cultivated fairytale feel, right down to the lighting and the music. The world we just saw last episode is so very harsh, but not here, not now. There is never any doubt that there will be a happy ending. And there is! The episode ends with their wedding.

(...and distant wolf howling but don't pay attention to that)

Third episode has the wolf hunt. Beren dies. Luthien goes after him. They both come back. They don't really explain themselves to anyone, and I'm leaving the details mysterious. Luthien singing to Mandos should probably be treated like the Ainulindale in that we don't attempt to make humans portray it. What we do see are the beginnings of fallout: as Luthien and Beren come back to life, Maedhros is wrangling with his brothers. As Tol Galen is settled, as Dior is born, Fingon and Maedhros start to plan the Union, and it's hovering in the background that they need to do this because with the Oath, the only other option is going after the Doriath silmaril, and they're not doing that.

Episode four is the Nirnaeth, and it. is. devastating. If you read the book (and maybe even if you didn't), you know this isn't going to work. But the characters really believe it will! And the music and cinematography are fully conspiring to make you believe it too! There might even be some leitmotifs from the Thangorodrim rescue during the battle to suggest maybe it will turn out this time... And then it doesn't. It was never going to. It was always going to end with trampled blue and silver banners and broken bodies and the sons of Feanor scattered in the wilderness and Hurin chained in a chair to watch his family suffer.

Episode five should be 50% Children of Hurin, and 50% Tuor's story, cutting back and forth for maximum contrast. We go directly from Turin and Nienor's deaths to Tuor and Idril's wedding.

Episode six is all Fall of Doriath, starting off with Hurin showing up with the Silmaril, escalating through Thingol's paranoia and death, and ending with the Second Kinslaying. Bonus points if there is a very subtle Girdle of Melian leitmotif that has been in the background for all Doriath scenes so far, and abruptly cuts off when Thingol dies and Melian leaves. And we end with baby!Elwing being taken through the woods with the survivors, clutching the Silmaril.

Next episode is the fall of Gondolin. I would really like for there to be a specific leitmotif throughout the show for people (Maedhros, Fingolfin, Hurin, etc.) defying Morgoth, and for it to initially emerge for Maeglin...only to break down. And throughout the episode, Eol's theme keeps getting stronger and stronger, until it fully emerges when Maeglin falls.

We end with tiny!Earendil arriving in Sirion and seeing Elwing, and the Silmaril, for the first time.

This season is going to have to be nine episodes long, because what's left might take up one Silm chapter, but I have too many things I want to do with it. Specifically:

Episode eight opens in the middle of the Third Kinslaying. I don't want it to be dramatic like the other two. I want it to be frightening in its banality. I want it to be very, very disturbing how habituated the Feanorians are to this now.

When Elrond and Elros first appear...something shifts. It's not really like the world-apart, fairytale vibes of the Beren and Luthien episode, but there is something Different about these kids. They're who this whole violent, convoluted story was meant to produce. They're going to build a better world someday.

We spend most of the episode going back and forth between Maglor and Maedhros doing their best to raise these children in a world that is falling apart at the seams, and Earendil and Elwing in a Valinor that is almost unsettlingly pristine after the past couple of seasons that we've spent in an increasingly entropic Beleriand. I want M&M and the twins to camp out in ruins of a place that was built "only" a century ago, and Elwing to wander through a building that she assumes is brand new and expensive, but is actually very average and older than the Silmarils.

At the end, the Valar authorize an army, and we see Gil-Estel rise, and the War of Wrath begins.

Most of the final episode is epic War of Wrath stuff, definitely including the slaying of Ancalagon, definitely also undercut by comedy relief bits of people trying to guess who Gil-galad's parents could be. (It's never revealed.)

In the last third or so, Maedhros and Maglor steal the Silmarils.

When Maedhros takes his out and looks at it, he sees himself as he was back in Valinor, perfect and whole and unbearably innocent. We have this whole golden-lit mini-flashback sequence of him and Maglor just messing around at home, teasing each other. Their brothers are in the background. They are almost unrecognizable.

Maglor glances in a mirror and it shifts back to him in present-day, face twisted in pain and screaming at the Silmaril's burn. Maedhros startles, notices that he's burning, too. He doesn't scream, although he's clearly in pain. He just reaches over, gently brushes the Silmaril out of Maglor's hand and onto the ground, kisses his brother's forehead, and then stands and with a great deal of outward calm, walks over the edge of the nearby lava chasm.

Maglor weeps and can't stop, but he has to when footsteps start approaching. He flees to the shore, and flings the Silmaril in, and stares for a very long moment at the water like he might dive in, too. But then he just turns away with an unreadable expression and vanishes into the fog.

The last moments of the show are spent with Gil-galad and Celebrimbor and Elrond and Elros and Galadriel, talking out what they're going to do now. The world didn't end, but their world sort of did. What do you do with that? What can they possibly build from the ruins around them?

They have to try, is the one thing they all agree on. If they give up, what was even the point of everything in the last 600-odd years? And in any case, they can't possibly do any worse than the mess they and their predecessors just lived through.

Right?

[streets-in-paradise]

We're Best Friends as Friends should be

Cult of Chucky oneshot

Characters: Andy Barclay, Chucky

Warnings: Constant exposing to silly children shows used as some sort of phiscological torture method.

Summary: Andy accidentally discovers an alternative method to avenge his destroyed childhood. For most of the time he had been playing with Chucky in the bloody way he was taught by him, but he had still left to try making him suffer in the way of a child.

Note: Inspired by this post i saw and couldn't let go lol

Tags: @losersclubisms @series-thoughts I apologise to both of you in advance for this nonsense lol

Chucky loved to talk and his captor needed someone to talk to. Not all their conversations had to end in torture sessions, despite many eventually would, but Andy was learning a lot about him whenever he would let him talk. For instance, his complete ignorance of the lore of the Good Guy show lead him to an enlightening realization.

He had no idea about the very same thing he used to destroy his life and that had been never used against him. Chucky endured the physical damage knowing he had the upper hand in the mental, breaking the already broken child living in the memories of the sick man he had become.

Not for long, little Andy was going to have his turn to break him when his adult version would try his tools on him. The doll was forced to endure hours of watching episodes of the show he ruined for him along with his childhood over and over. Andy would set things very carefully so he would have no choice but to stare at the screen, often leaving him for hours. The goal was making that the song would become a trigger, just like it happened to him after Chucky came to his life.

The results were surprising and he continued experimenting, soon starting to switch shows. Most didn't even come from his childhood memories, but were considerably more annoying to the adult eye than the Good Guy show ever was. Andy wanted to make sure Chucky wouldn't get a single instant to be comfortable, even if he wouldn't be actively harming him at the time.

It didn't take him long to discover the one Chucky ended up hating the most.

" Ehh - Hoo!" He macabrely saluted the doll head. " Want some more? "

The screen was still displaying an endless cycle of Telletubies when he removed the gag.

" FUCK YOU, ANDY!!" Was the enraged answer his tease obtained. " IS THIS WHAT YOU CALL TORTURE? BE A MAN AND GET YOUR HANDS DIRTY, YOU PATHETIC LITTLE SHIT!"

Andy chuckled to himself, aware that he was just trying to provoke him into turning it off.

" ... But that would give you a distraction and that is exactly what you want. " He recalled, merciless. " Admit it, Chucky. You can't stand it anymore. You would prefer I would be burning you alive to keep watching."

" I'm getting used to it. Tinky Winky is a dumbass and Dipsy wakes up every morning choosing chaos. " The doll attempted to deny the obvious out of pride. " Laa-Laa is a bossy bitch and that whinny little shit of Po should be thrown off the cliff."

Andy gave him a skeptical smirk and pretended to carry on with his day careless for him, what made Chucky more impatient.

" I get it, when you were a kid I made you believe life with me was gonna be like Barney and I gave you Annabelle. Is that what this is about? Push down my throat all the lies i told you? "

The unexpected comment made the man stop in his tracks.

" Don't worry, Chuck! You are still on time to make it up. We are going to be the best of friends, just like you promised. "

It was a strongly ironical tease and it was about to get even more ironical.

" I love you, you love me. We are a happy family. " Andy began to sing." With a great big hug, and a kiss from me to you. Won't you say you love me too? "

On top of the uncomfortable time he was making him go through, Andy also wanted to ironically humilliate him and he was not going to allow it.

" Don't you fucking dare." Chucky warned, cutting him off. " Bring the flamethrower, I'm not gonna do that shit."

" I could bring noise cancelling headphones. " His captor warned. " Telletubies is all you are going to hear for the rest of the day ..."

If he could be honest, Chucky would rather be killed. Since that was not an option, he just kept an initial silence intending to conserve his pride.

" C'mon Chucky! " Andy insisted, in a tone that resembled a little bit to the children he once meet. " It's your line."

He didn't have much of a choice, not at that point, and the disgust in his face perfectly matched his dark singing.

" I love you, you love me. We're best friends like friends should be ..."

[ryanmeft]

Movie Review: American Fiction

Thelonious Ellison is an angry man. You get the feeling that he is always angry, always has been angry and unless he changes something, always will be angry. He is right about the world and about people when he thinks that they all want easy answers and spoon-fed entertainment, but being right won’t fix what’s wrong with him. The movie is about whether he can do that himself.

What does he need to fix? Everyone around him has an opinion, and everyone may have a point. Understanding broken people requires broken people, so Monk, as he is usually called, is fortunate that his whole family is broken. They are still suffering from the suicide of the father, an unseen phantom. The mother (Leslie Uggams) is in the early stages of dementia. The plastic surgeon brother Cliff (Sterling K. Brown) has recently been divorced after being caught with a man, and has responded to his outing with unreserved debauchery.  The only really responsible member of the family is the older sister Lisa (Tracee Ellis Ross), a doctor at a fictional version of Planned Parenthood, but when she unexpectedly dies, the family’s remaining broken pieces must come together to solve the puzzle that is them.

Monk does this while struggling with the low sales of his books as readers prefer more salacious fiction that gives them what they think the black experience is like---guns, drugs, hopeful stories of rising out of imagined ghettos painted in the most generalized of lights. Monk doesn’t want to tell that kind of story, and indeed argues that he cannot. He is a well-educated black professor from an upper-middle-class background, and he wants to write about the experiences of black people like himself. The audience doesn’t want to read them, and eventually in a night of doubt he gives in and dashes off a quick book that plays to the stereotypes, with Keith David and Okieriete Onaodowan as the hilarious personifications of two of his characters. Like the play in The Producers, he intends the book to be derided and to fail, and also like The Producers, it is an unexpected hit. Hurting for money, Monk and his long-suffering agent Arthur (John Ortiz) play along to increasingly hilarious results.

The most pressing issue on Monk’s mind is his mother, who deteriorates rapidly. Uggams’ performance is full of sympathy. She has a single screenplay-dramatic moment that ends up forcing the family’s hand, but mostly her condition is treated as a slow descent. Notes of The Father, one of the few successful depictions of Alzheimer’s on screen, can be detected here, as she becomes abrasive as a defense and only turns lucid long enough to recall her husband’s infidelity. Brown as the brother injects comedy into the proceedings with his many drug-loving younger lovers and his acid tongue, but it is to the film’s great credit that he doesn’t remain merely comedic relief. His story eventually gets a catharsis that allows Monk to think he might, at some point, receive his own. Monk’s only real ally seems to be newfound girlfriend Coraline (Erica Alexander), but there are cracks there from the beginning, as he covers up for his actual abrasive nature with the kind of humor that is meant to hide hostility.

Monk’s nemesis is Sintara Golden, a best-selling author who “writes black” in every way Monk disapproves of. Played by Issa Rae, she comes off initially as a cheap plot device, but shifts a little when the two are thrown into the same panel of judges for a book award contest. Yet another brave touch in the movie is how their inevitable confrontation is handled. We can at least sort of respect her as long as she thinks she is doing a genuine thing, even if she isn’t. Trapped in a candid moment, she lets down her practiced talk circuit defenses and reveals her true reasons for writing the way she does. What those are I will leave for you to discover, but the character is much stronger and a suitable nemesis for Monk by not being made into a “girl boss” figurehead.

The movie is rife with conversations meant to expose the deep racial and personal biases well-meaning white liberals often inadvertently show. It is sometimes subtle and sometimes not, and for the most part each kind of depiction is effective. What strikes me most about this aspect of the movie is entirely subjective. I saw it in a preview screening at a film festival where the audience was mostly older and mostly white. Every time the film skewered some convention of “black” popular culture and the way non-black people see it, I couldn’t help wondering if I was the mark. If I was, I didn’t feel attacked by that, but rather encouraged to re-examine my views. The fact I did all this while laughing my ass off should at least tell you one thing: you should go see this movie.

Verdict: Highly Recommended

Note: I don’t use star ratings. Here are my possible verdicts:

Must-See

Highly Recommended

Recommended

Average

Not Recommended

Avoid Like the Plague

[acourtofthought]

I just read your theory on Blodeuwedd and Elain! Omg whoa! I’m becoming more convinced that she will end up in spring somehow! Like she’s gotta! I don’t know if you already addressed this but how does Lucien come into play in this Blodeuwedd myth you think?

Thank you! Your blog is awesome! 😍

Thank you so much! 😍😊😍

Anything that ends with Elain having the ability to shift into an owl is something I'm a fan of (owls are beautiful and fascinating to me) and I really do love the idea that her role in the future of the series would be one of healing and bringing life back to a land. Feyre, Nesta, Gwyn, Emerie, they are all amazing and badass warriors. But Elain's character has always stood out as something very different and I'd love if she could not only stay true to herself by not going the warrior route (and having to regularly resort to violence) but prove that she can still make a major difference through "healing" and optimism.

It's actually interesting how everything that's already happened in ACOWAR through SF ties in to the fairytale.

I definitely want to mention again that while SJM does love retelling fairytales, they only loosely resemble them and she likes giving their sometimes tragic endings a happy one instead.

The original post I made involving Lucien’s connection to it is linked below but,

A sort of Cliff Notes version (if you don't feel like reading over the link) is that the hero Lleu (aka Lucien for us) is placed under a curse which makes it so he's unable to have a human wife (which matches up with Lucien’s father murdering Jesminda, a lesser faerie, whom Lucien wanted to marry. Lucien has also never found love in the centuries since as he's unable to move past her death).

Finding a way around the curse, the magicians Math and Gwydion conjure up the most beautiful maiden ever seen (Blodeuwedd, created out of flowers of the oak, flowers of the broom, and flowers of the meadowsweet) to be his wife. (this matches up with Elain, noted for her beauty and association with flowers being made his Mate by the magic of the Cauldron)

Blodeuwedd isn't happy about the marriage as she feels she was given no choice and she begins an affair with Gronw (Azriel) while Llew is away on business (Lucien sets out for the Human Lands for business reasons, to find Vassa and gain the aid of the human armies. He ends up remaining in the Human Lands acting as emissary for Rhys which is again business related while Elain and Az engage in an emotional fling of sorts. Instead of considering whether she and Lucien are actually a good match, she's been fighting against the Bond as she feels it was decided for her. With Az, it's not an all out affair as in the fairytale but it's questioned by Rhys because of who Elain is to Lucien and that fact that she hasn't addressed the bond one or another).

The two lovers conspire to kill Llew (not an exact translation as Elain has not demonstrated any desire to physically harm Lucien however Azriel expresses no qualms about killing Lucien in the Blood Duel.)

Llew ends up killing Gronw and Blodeuwedd is turned into an owl for her transgression.

SJM giving this tragic tale a happy ending would be one where Lucien obviously doesn't kill Az and eventually Elain does accept their bond. But everything that's happened between the characters so far seems to align really well with the fairytale itself.

[mywifeleftme]

27: AC/DC // Powerage

Powerage AC/DC 1978, Atlantic

Get any two or more straight male rock fans talking over a steadily increasing number of pints at a bar and it is a mortal lock they will eventually start talking about AC/DC’s rhythm section. For a band with such a simple, popular sound, I’ve never found a cover where the rhythm wasn’t completely shot. As I once heard Deep Purple’s Roger Glover note on VH1’s countdown of the 100 Greatest Artists of Hard Rock (that my friend taped off his grandparents’ cable when we were 13), “Early AC/DC had a drummer who never played a fill. And that's an object lesson, to drummers, about feel.”

That’s a mild exaggeration. But only a very mild one. On Powerage, the most in-the-pocket record they ever cut, it’s a wonder listening to these guys play together. Gnomish rhythm guitarist Malcolm Young was known as a stern taskmaster when it came to staying on tempo and sanding off extraneous flourishes that might distract from the central power of the riff. And yet, within these incredibly strict self-imposed restrictions, they had an underrated flair for the dramatic.

Listen to how “Down Payment Blues” opens, Angus sketching out a deconstructed version of the main riff slow enough for each note to ring out and decay, like an overture for an opera with only one theme. Bassist Cliff Williams waits a few long beats over the ensuing silence before he begins the moody pulse he’ll maintain for the rest of the song, his bandmates gradually falling into step behind him. That they’re able to ratchet up the tension throughout a six-minute song without really changing up the riff is down to their intuitive feel for dynamics, how to subtly build momentum so that when it’s time to make a racket, it really hits.

While AC/DC’s music famously has the emotional range of a Jack Daniel's commercial, there’s desperation gnawing away beneath the bravado of songs like “What’s Next to the Moon” and “Gone Shootin’” (the latter a career highlight). Even in their early days, AC/DC tended to spurn vulnerability, and after singer Bon Scott’s death the Youngs put extra padlocks on those doors. Here though, no matter how loudly they play, there’s a quiet in the room that casts a blueish tinge over the proceedings. I don’t come to this band for meaning, but there’s something about the way it feels like partying against the dying of the light that makes Powerage ring a few deeper bells in me.

27/365

[mortallycoiled]

mortally coiled patch notes

(because i couldn't think of something better to call this)

Nil survives the narrative now (kinda). I've been thinking about how Null gets to have a slightly normal life post-c1 and like. Man. Nil kinda got completely fucked over in the whole thing, and also I kept thinking about little Null/Nil interactions that wouldn't be able to happen since they knew each other in person for a total of like 5 minutes before Nil gets knocked off a cliff. So now, Nil kinda/sorta comes back post-c2. How that'll work is that Rasputin's first Dogkiller weapon is made from Nil's stinger, salvaged from their corpse. A few Sundogs get stabbed and/or killed by the knife, and eventually Gazer uses the knife to kill Rasputin before discarding it. All the soul energy and stardust and significance and shit formed from that makes the knife imbued with power, allowing Nil's soul (previously anchored but dormant in his corpse) to anchor to the knife once Gazer tosses it back into the swamp, reuniting it with the rest of the corpse. Eventually, Null gets a hold of the knife. Nil is able to "reform" when the knife is stabbed into the dead body of an animal (since Nil is tied to meat the same way Null is tied to stone) and reshapes the body into their own image, with the knife still present. If the knife is removed, the body Nil is possessing turns back into what it was originally, and cannot be possessed by Nil again. This can also technically be done to something alive, with interesting results (ie idk what the results are yet but they'll be wacky)

Roach is being... demoted? relocated? it's complicated. I don't think they really fit where they were in cycle 1 originally. That was kind of a remnant of a much earlier version of the storyline, where Roach had a much more active role compared to everyone else in the Null squad. However, Roach's character now just doesn't really make sense with that removed. Originally, Roach was entirely passive for most of the story, to contrast them being the only one to actually escalate things in the end, but since that was removed Roach really doesn't... do anything, and doesn't have a good motivation to do anything in cycle 1. I've also had some ideas in the past where Roach instead plays a bigger role in cycle 4, and I've lately had a SIGNIFICANTLY easier time incorporating then into the storyline in that cycle. Also, I think Bang would fit into the cycle 1 group WAY more smoothly than Roach ever did. Having an aspect of unexpectedness also fits WAY better with Fane's aspect of misinformation than the aspect of decay, and makes Null's team have more concept-based vs the more physical aspects of Nil's team (the hunt + group fights).

some more minor changes as well under the cut;;;

-Bo is more Rasputin than Nil, rather than the other way around, but at the end of the day is just kinda their own person. They were created more by the combined excess Eternal energy released by the death of Nil and Rasputin- probably some of Rasputin's soul is in there, but most of Nil's stayed bound to their corpse (and later, the knife)

-Judge is now the FIRST mooncat instead of just an average mooncat. Being first, they formed with significantly more power than one normally would due to the power vacuum created when Sar'kai was restored. this is also why angels are formed way more often than mooncats- compared to sundogs, an individual mooncat is more of their aspect, if that makes sense? A mooncat and a bunch of angels is kinda like having a counterbalance of a single kilogram weight and a whole bunch of gram weights

-Still trying to develop how ecclecto-mechanics work. I'm thinking that electronics and mechanics came first, but since the constructions were Significant they would occasionally just... spontaneously develop a soul, especially in highly populated cities. Ecclecto-mechanics specifically is the construction of something with the express intention of it forming a soul, maybe to the point of purposefully prompting the formation of a soul? Idk, I just really really like the idea of magic and machine intersecting because they're just. they're siblings to me ok

[waheelawhisperer]

20 for feilan too, then!

20) What’s your OC smell like?  no, not that “Vanilla and Anxiety” evocative stuff, realistically.  Body odor? what have they been touching all day? When was their last shower? Did they put on any kind of artificial scent?

Feilan has a pretty neutral scent under normal circumstances, like he doesn't really have bad BO or a particularly distinctive scent or anything and usually doesn't touch particularly smelly stuff. All four versions probably smell a little bit like ink because they do schoolwork/paperwork, but Feilan showers regularly (most of the time) in all incarnations, so outside scents don't really "stick" to him for long, if that makes sense. They all smell like sweat pretty frequently because they exercise a lot (Feilan starts off with minimal training and has to come from behind, so he works hard and often), but that goes away once they shower.

Feilan 1 definitely has the most interesting and complex scent profile. He drinks a lot of hot chocolate, so he often smells a bit like chocolate/sugar/cinnamon, which the people around him tend to like and find comforting (it reminds Ruby and Yang of home, for example). One of his mentor figures sends him a box of colognes before the Beacon dance (and Feilan is very grateful for the instructions, because God knows he wouldn't be able to figure this shit out on his own), and another mentor gives him cedar bourbon body wash as a gift because she likes the way it smells (and may or may not have less-than-innocent designs upon her oblivious student), so he smells a bit like that for a while. Team RWBY is not a fan because 3/4 of them have Issues with alcohol, and it gets worse after a series of Painful Events And Revelations that give him PTSD and then a shit ton of responsibility he in no way wants or is ready for gets dropped on him, so he starts self-medicating with alcohol and making himself a nuisance. He stops giving a shit about hygiene or keeping track of the days at this point, so he ends up smelling like a rancid mix of body odor, stale vomit, and booze until Yang gets fed up with his crap and Team RWBY stages an intervention before he can turn out like Uncle Qrow. Yang is about 30 seconds from just dragging him outside and hosing him down with the strongest pressure washer she can find at all times during this saga (and he eventually manages to mollify her by sacrificing Qrow, who has also been Getting Very Drunk For Trauma-Related Reasons, to her wrath. It is left ambiguous whether Yang threw her uncle in Beacon's fountain or in the river at the bottom of the cliffs the school is perched on, but she certainly expressed a preference for one over the other). After that, he cleans himself up, apologizes to Pyrrha for throwing up on her, and swaps out the cedar bourbon body wash for something pine-scented with notes of vanilla (funnily enough, the change in scents also reflects a change in his awareness of his romantic interest in another character and a shift in who actually holds the power among the women pursuing him romantically). Otherwise, his various colognes tend to have woody bases and not incorporate citrus. God that was long, but the way Feilan smells in this story is actually intended to say a lot about him as a character and how he relates to others.

Outside of the Beacon dance, the only scents Feilan 2 wears are the ones someone bullies him into wearing.

Feilan 3 tends to smell like whatever cologne Ruby or Yang (mostly Yang, because Ruby doesn't know shit about perfumes/colognes) pick out for him that day. Sometimes they spritz him with perfume as well because they think it's funny, and also because they want their property to smell like them as a way of marking their territory (nonromantic, this is explicitly about territoriality and dominance and protecting a valuable resource. They stake their claim on Blake in much the same way).

Feilan 4 smells like Ruby, who marks him with her scent as a way of protecting him from Blake. Feilan goes along with it because he's very fond of not being disemboweled, and having Ruby as a packmate means he's got at least one person watching his back and willing to fight to defend or avenge him, making him much more difficult prey. More importantly, crossing Ruby means crossing Yang, and that is a very good way to get killed. Later on, as he accumulates more packmates, they all try to commingle their scents, so he ends up smelling a bit like several other people at once.