#every goddamn time I end up with a full essay

[tiistirtipii]

Day 123 of missing AkkAyan. I was going to pick a different scene for today but I opened episode 10 to find it and got lost in repeating this beautiful moment. Undoubtedly one of my favourite scenes I’m focusing on just the first part of it for now.

It’s their first day at school as boyfriends and Ayan is ready to use that to his advantage. His claim to Akk has been put into words in a way it wasn’t before. Before it was just two shared kisses and comfort they provided eachother and while Akk still can’t admit his feelings Ayan made it so he didn’t have to, he let Akk ‘allow’ himself to be his boyfriend. Sure he asked a few times and wouldn’t let Akk sleep but that let Akk almost hide behind the pathetic excuse that is he was just trying to get Ayan to stop annoying him. Something along the lines of ‘yeah sure I’m totally only agreeing to be Ayan’s boyfriend so he will let me go to sleep not because he makes me feel happier or safer than anyone ever has haha’ and that technique of Akk’s to hide behind being annoyed is exactly what he uses in this scene as well. When Ayan asks him if he misses him at all, Akk’s answer of, “I did! Happy now?’ Is a great example of the deflection he uses to allow himself to be honest. He did miss Ayan but he can’t just say that, that’s lowering himself to Ayan’s very sappy level and Akk is too cool and too repressed for that. Ayan of course is very aware of this which is what makes it work for them. Ayan can annoy Akk into being honest and see straight past the insults it takes to get to that point to see the true meaning beyond 🥰.

The scene itself is very pretty, it’s no ep 7 island scene but the lighting here is beautiful and in light of (haha) the gorgeous photos we got of First in the sun today it seemed perfect to talk about. Ayan’s face shines as well but I can’t tell if it’s because of the sun or how widely he is smiling and I can’t tell if that’s the sun shining in his eyes of if they’re bright with love and adoration.

There are so many little bits and pieces I love about this scene I’ll just start listing them. The audio work at the start and the way you can hear their shoes along the floor and Ayan’s palm smack against the wall. That paired with the quick cut from Akk looking so confused to Ayan smiling so widely as the audio fades away makes that moment especially rewatchable. It seriously scratches some part of my brain. I love Akk’s eyes the whole scene although I love them in every scene. First’s eye acting is unmatched and the way his eyes soften from concerned to shy has me entranced. The way Akk’s hand comes up to grab onto Ayan’s backpack, failing at keeping Ayan away and instead holding him there. Ayan’s mini pout.

Akk’s seconds of consideration before he admits to missing Ayan, probably when he thinks about the benefits of being honest or just denying it or doing a mix of both as said before. Ayan’s absolutely radiant smiles throughout the whole scene as he gets to act as the mushy boyfriend he has always wanted to be. The way Akk pulls Ayan’s hand off from the wall behind him and Ayan doesn’t even hesitate for a second to place it right back. How he doesn’t care at all that Wat and Kan are coming and continues on to ask for a kiss.

There’s the fact that this scene is the last scene shown in the intro yet technically we never get that exact scene from the intro because we don’t get a shot from that angle and Ayan’s hand looks to be completely behind Akk’s head (stopping it from knocking into the wall☺️) but because that scene was in the intro it was something to look forward to.

I remember early on I couldn’t picture Akk and Ayan looking at each other with that much love and it gave me butterflies to imagine that’s the two idiots on my screen who hated eachother were going to get to that point eventually.

There’s more to this scene but I’ll leave that for another day. I miss Akk and Ayan, more and more every day.

[sasaranurude]

Okay. I've been playing Tokyo Debunker today, since the release happened to catch me on a day when all I'd planned to do was write fanfiction. I just finished reading the game story prologue (it was longer than expected!), so here's a review type post. If you're reading this post not having seen a single thing about this game: it's a story-based joseimuke gacha mobile game that just released globally today. It's about a girl who suddenly finds herself attending a magic school and mingling with elite, superhuman students known as ghouls. If you look in the tumblr tag for the game you'll see what appears to be a completely different game from 2019 or so: they retooled it completely midway through development, changing just about everything about it due to "escalating competition within the gaming industry."

I'll talk about how this looks like a blatant twst clone at the end.

Starting with the positive: The story is charming. I enjoyed it thoroughly the entire time and am excited to read more. The mix between visual novel segments and motion comics was really nice--it broke things up and added a lot of oomph to the action or atmospheric scenes that visual novels generally lack. I like the art in the comic parts a lot. the live2d in the visual novel parts is... passable. Tone-wise, I think the story was a little bit all over the place and would like to see more of the horror that it opened on, but I didn't mind the comedic direction it went in either. The translation is completely seamless. The characters so far all have unique voices and are just super fun and cute. Of the ones who've had larger roles in the story so far, there's not a single one I dislike. It's all fully voiced in Japanese and the acting is solid. (I don't recognize any voices, and can't seem to find any seiyuu credits, so it seems they're not big names, but they deliver nonetheless.) Kaito in particular I found I was laughing at his lines a ton, both the voicing and the writing.

He's looking for a girlfriend btw. Spreading the word.

The problem is like. The gameplay is the worst dark-pattern microtransaction-riddled bullshit I've ever seen. Hundred passive timers going at all times. Fifty different item-currencies. Trying to get you to spend absurd amounts of real world money at every turn. There's like five different indicators that take you to various real-money shop items that I don't know how to dismiss the indicator, I guess you just have to spend money, wtaf. Bajillion different interlocking systems mean you have zero sense of relative value of all the different item-currencies. I did over the course of the day get enough diamonds for one ten-pull, which I haven't used yet. Buying enough diamonds for a ten-pull costs a bit under $60 (presumably USD, but there's a chance the interface is automatically making that CAD for me--not gonna spend the money to check lmfao), with an SSR rate of 1%. BULLSHIIIIIT.

There's like a goddamn thousand-word essay explaining the dozen different types of character upgrades and equippables and equippables for the equippables!! Bad! Bad game design! That's just overcomplicating bullshit to trick people into thinking they're doing something other than clicking button to make number go up! That is not gameplay!

In terms of the actual gameplay, there is none. The battle system is full auto. There might be teambuilding, but from what I've seen so far, most of that consists of hoping you pull good cards from gacha and then clicking button to make number go up. There's occasional rhythm segments but there's no original music, it's just remixes of public domain classical music lmao. I'd describe the rhythm gameplay as "at least more engaging than twisted wonderland's," which is not a high bar

At least there's a cat in the rhythm bit.

And like, ok, I gotta remark on how derivative it is. Like I mentioned in my post earlier, this game is unabashedly aping twisted wonderland's setting and aesthetic. (That said, most of the stuff it steals from twst is magic school stuff that twst also basically stole from Harry Potter, so...?) However, it isn't exactly like twst: in this one, the characters say fuck a lot and bleed all over the place and do violence. Basically, the tone is a fair bit more adult than twst's kid-friendly vibe. (Not, like, adult adult, and I probably wouldn't even call it dark--it's still rated Teen lol. Just more adult than twst.)

Rather than just being students at magic school, the ghouls also go out into the mundane world to go on missions where they fight and investigate monsters and cryptids. Honestly, the magic school setting feels pretty tacked-on. The things that are enjoyable about this would've been just as enjoyable in about any other setting--you can tell this whole aspect was a late trend-chasing addition, lmao. So, yeah, it's blatantly copying twst to try to steal some players, but... Eh, I found myself not caring that much. Someone more (or less) into twst than me may find it grating.

Character-wise, eh, sure, yeah, they're a bit derivative in that aspect too, but it's a joseimuke game, the characters are always derivative. Thus far the writing & execution has been solid enough that I didn't care if they were tropey. If I were to compare it to something else, I'd say the relationship between the protagonist and the ghouls feels more like that of the sage and wizards in mahoyaku than anything from twst. There's some mystery in exactly what "ghouls" are and their place in this world that has me intrigued and wanting to know more about this setting and how each of the characters feels about it. I have a bad habit of getting my hopes up for stories that put big ideas on the table and then being disappointed when they don't follow through in a way that lives up to my expectations, though.

So, my final verdict: I kind of just hope someone uploads all the story segments right onto youtube so nobody has to deal with the dogshit predatory game to get the genuinely decent story lol. Give it a play just for the story if you have faith in your ability to resist dark patterns. Avoid at all costs if you know you're vulnerable to gacha, microtransactions, or timesinks.

[grlbutnotwood]

good morning children I have come to feed you (I wrote destiel in kill your darlings setting ficlet you're welcome)

"...Since I started this report, we recieved the news from London, saying the German high command denied that great enemy formations approached the coast of..."

Castiel threw a pen at the radio. It did not shut the hell up.

Oh well.

It was childish, of course. Throwing things around, huffing in a tantrum, his only saving grace - the fact that no one saw him at the moment. Who gave a shit?

He focused back on the papers. Two stacks, ungraded on the left, graded on the right. The stack on the left was significantly bigger, despite the fact that Castiel's been sitting behind his desk for three hours.

His office wasn't much to look at. White walls, bookshelves with everything expected of him - Shakespeare, Shelley, Fitzgerald, pictures of his family alive and dead and missing somewhere on the front lines, the only plant that was able to thrive with the feeble light available and less than frequent wandering that was the consequence of Castiel's wandering mind. A large desk, dark wood and the air of pretentiousness in the carving, took up most of the space, two chairs across from Castiel's for the students to sit in rigidly as they sort out whatever business he needed to deal with.

A blazer was thrown over one of the chairs. Castiel hadn't dared to touch it.

The radio on the windowsill, almost lost among the clutter of empty coffee mugs, kept chattering - and as the rain picked up, drumming on the window, he could finally drown out the goddamned news reports. The branches of the oak tree banged on the glass, the poor thing, almost completely devoid of leaves by the end of October.

It was past midnight, he knew for sure. He didn't look up at the watch mounted on the wall, not that he would see anything as the only source of light was Castiel's lamp, pouring bright golden spot on the paper work in front of him and nothing else.

The world was ending outside, in the way it does practically every other week in a way that was rather comforting. A cycle withering and dying before the next one, coming full circle. The clock kept ticking away, the smell of cold sickly-sweet coffee suspended in the air.

He read through another essay, contemplating getting another coffee or perhaps falling asleep right then and there, when the door creaked.

Castiel shouldn't have heard it over the sounds of rain and thunderstorm. And yet, he did.

Of course he did.

"Hey there, professor," a cheeky smile and golden skin, rumpled white button-up and the ever-present mirth in his voice. Dirty boots of a workman rather than fashionable oxfords under the edges of his slacks. Leather satchel worn out and falling apart even more so than Castiel.

Warm skin, delicately dotted with freckles - always so, so warm. Strong callused hands, firm thighs underneath the confining uniform, perfect teeth with those pointed incisors digging right into Castiel's skin, his lips-

"Mr Winchester," he breathed out before carefully putting the pen in his hand down. (The one he threw at the radio was temporarily lost and forgotten). To an outsider he might seem relaxed, composed.

But Dean learned to read him the same way Castiel taught him to analyze William Blake's poems. He recognized the tension in his arms, a glint of alarm in the eyes behind thick rimmed glasses. An animal preparing to pounce, waiting out its prey.

Dean's breath stuck in his throat even as he moved into the study, closing the door behind himself.

Dear God but how he wanted to be torn apart.

"So it's Mr Winchester now," his voice was low, teasing. Yet he moved slowly across the room, a practiced dance routine as he waited for his partner to make a move. "Last time we were alone like this I was-"

"What do you want," Castiel cut him off, not a hint of question of his voice but rather a command. A shiver ran through Dean. He stopped just across from his professor, between them - just a table and the game. Their game. It boils down to just a question of who was going to fold quicker.

Usually, the game had the same outcome. They had yet to grow tired of it, if ever.

This was bad, wasn't it? But how bad could it be if it never harmed anyone? They didn't know that it was just a question of time.

They didn't know they wouldn't be the ones getting hurt. Worse than hurt.

("Mr Winchester, we'd like to ask you about your whereabouts as of the 16th of November. We're very sorry...")

"Well, I wanted to get my blazer back, for one," Dean said with a shrug of his shoulder, quite reasonably to someone who didn't see the thrill of a gambler with a deck of cards on his face.

Dean's hand fell on the back of the chair, over the said blazer, the other falling on the strap of the satchel.

Castiel watched, laser-focused on every movement of the younger man, still as a statue, his face - harsh outlines in the scarce light of the lamp between them.

Inevitably, not so much later, he'd lose his composure. He would grab what was his and he would have him. The papers would unfortunately be discarded all over the floor or otherwise crumpled underneath the bodies, skin, sweat, fuck yeah more come on Cas-

The table creaks rather loudly, obscenely. It's good that Dean had the foresight to lock the door.

[triflesandparsnips]

(eta 10/10/23: Having just realized that this is now a very easy to google explainer, please also see the full end-of-game roundup here: "when something is definitely not a game, but most definitely a gift" or my related #definitely not a game tag. We now return you to your regularly scheduled nonsense, currently in progress.)

So... so.

So this just dropped.

And listen. LISTEN. For people who haven't been following this Our Flag Means Death-related alternate-reality-shenanigan fest, the following will make no sense to you-- or, wait, fuck it--

A Brief History of the Javid Denkins Alternate-Reality Game

(I didn't intend "overly long essays about in-depth fandom-related shenanigans" to be my brand, but by god I'm here now and I will make us all suffer through it.)

Reality (As We Know It)

Established and verified gay pirate showrunner David Jenkins is a regular shenanigineer on twitter: retweets fanart, retweets cosplays, calls fans sluts (endearment), has ongoing fight with medieval cats.

Back in 2022, David Jenkins implied heavily that he had joined tumblr, but did not cough up his account name.

This is the sum total of real and actual events and identities.

Through the Looking Glass

Fans started looking for David Jenkins's tumblr. What fans found is the tumblr of one Javid Denkins, who appeared to be new, had a variant of Jenkins's twitter icon, and seemed to be cheekily maintaining an incognito by steadfastly asserting that he is definitely not David Jenkins.

Fans got weird about it, because that is the nature of fandom. I said something about it here, because I have Feelings about the Rules of Incognito and also about Not Being Weird About People Who Make the Content We Like. I put it as a reblog to the post, as per regular tumblring, no response requested/required because babes, if I'm going to be perceived, I want it to be organic. (ahem... FOOTNOTE 1)

I kept a cursory eye on things, because it can be Really Lonely to be a famous person who just wants to have a regular online experience, and if that's what whoever was on the other end wanted, then that's what they should get to have imo. Unlike a regular tumblr that I might reply to directly or engage with on a same-level kinda way, I let them set the rules of engagement because unless/until they came clean, they would always be Schrodinger's Showrunner to me, and therefore subject to my internal Don't Be Creepy ruleset.

My second Javid reblog was pretty much what I would do to any other newbie tumblr person (as they professed to be): adding on to a gag by referencing the "color of the sky" meme and also a seagull, for OFMD-related reasons (which fit within the ruleset, because Javid was actively connecting himself with OFMD type things). And Javid reblogged it, so hey, I was winning at tumblr interactions, a thing that is normal to want and possible to achieve.

Time passed. Javid dropped (what will be revealed to be the first of many) photo manipulations. (FOOTNOTE 2)

On the same day, Javid posted what looked like an accidental smashkey. I reblogged with a seagull, because again, established rules of engagement and me winning at tumblr interactions. He reblogged himself, though, with what looked like another smashkey, but was actually a goddamn Caesar cipher-- and started using the tag #definitely not a game.

From there, Javid started up a stream of fairly fun puzzles. I didn't keep up with it fully, but since it looked like Javid wanted people to interact, I interacted (while trying to ensure that other people could keep having fun too). He also started subtly changing his icon, his tumblr header, etc., expanding the bounds of the puzzle space, as it were. (And if you want a complete rundown of the puzzle history and the associated answers, this twitter thread is enormous and thorough, thank you @eefaevie.)

The seagull made an appearance every once in a while; I threw together various season 2 bingo cards in response to these potential spoilers; I spent my time largely keeping back so I could eat popcorn and Not Be Creepy. But... but.

The thing was, Javid's method of posting (in a "heeeere fishy fishy fishy" manner) seemed, to me, to be the actions of someone trying to play with the audience and/or provide enrichment for the enclosure. So after some thought and, again, remembering the loneliness of being a Creative Person but trying to be mindful that this person was still incognito and could be the actual dude, I started using the seagull to reblog extra content, links, whathaveyou, with the tag #enrichment can go in BOTH enclosures-- with the idea that, if Javid wanted to look, he had the option to do so-- and if he did, he'd be rewarded with, again, no demands on him or his attention, but just: some content. Some enrichment. Some fun. A "picking up what you're putting down" kind of vibe from one person to another, both of whom are, at the very least, interested in communicating with an audience.

To be clear: For me, at the end of the day, it had to be a choice. I needed to provide room for Javid to choose to enter the magic circle of my additional game play-- but I also wasn't going to hold my breath about it. This was Javid's space, with intentions and purposes I had no way of knowing (nor should I)-- I was just, metaphorically, bringing another set of dice and maybe some graph paper with an extra room drawn on it that he could easily enter if he wanted, to play in a space intended to complement his. He was putting in a shitton of labor for what was essentially just a gift; I wanted to show appreciation for that labor, while putting in some of my own to gift back.

So when the first round of puzzles ended, and a new one began, I linked the answers to one of his anagram puzzles inside some seagull gifs-- but I figured, why not add something extra? I used his pigpen cipher to dare him to use a book code next. To even see the dare he'd have to want to decode the gifs-- and if he ultimately didn't want to engage, no skin off my nose. (That's why there's a border around the magic circle with clear entrances and exits.) Either way, I was having a nice time.

The next puzzle type was a stereogram. (Neat.) The puzzle after that, though? I get tagged and informed that Javid has, in fact, posted a motherfucking book code. (FOOTNOTE 3)

Enter the Thunder Parasocial Dome

This is the point where I first have to be pulled down from the curtains by rational people who have only my best interests at heart.

(Having a whole Thesis Statement about why I was engaging with Schrodinger's Showrunner is one thing. Having possible evidence that my engagement was, like, actually engaged with is quite another.)

By sweet and loving friends and family I was reminded that:

Other people are, in fact, allowed to be clever about things too.

That all sorts of pre-planning may have gone into all this, and that therefore the timing was a coincidence.

That there are a limited number of easily accessible ciphers out there, so the code type could also be a coincidence.

And that either way I still have my important Don't Be Creepy code of ethics.

So. I took a deep breath. Cool. I was totally and absolutely cool about this.

...And in a totally normal manner I proceeded to lay an elaborate trap.

AHAHAHA JUST JOKING what I mean is: I replied to the tagged post, acknowledging that the sphere of potential puzzling had now expanded beyond tumblr. I used Javid's own fake-link trick to link to a seagull laugh. And in the tags I threw in a lot of potential internet-related alternate reality stuff.

But also, crucially... some more ideas for Javid to use. (FOOTNOTE 4) If he wanted them. If he was actually looking.

Since I was now playing In Earnest, I spent some time putting together a youtube channel, an alternate tumblr, a neocities account -- a whole new field of play, if Javid wanted to engage there. I pulled out the dusty memories of a Yuletide fic I wrote several years ago that used similar shenanigans to tell an interactive fiction story about Monty Python. (Hilariously enough, my first RPF.) I continued to play with all these new and fascinating toys.

A Strange Ship on the Horizon

What with one thing and another three years pass, a Javid puzzle eventually lead to an AO3 account-- which to me definitively opened Schrodinger's box: maybe this was a member of the production playing with fire, more likely it was a clever fan whose brain is fucking fascinating, but it most definitely was not David Jenkins.

But. Javid was still in incognito. And I still don't know if I had been perceived.

I read the fic the Javid account is writing (which is still a work in progress and pretty great ngl)-- it's a fandom AU, where Ed and Stede are fans of a gay pirate romcom called Blow the Man Down, featuring Sam Bellamy and Olivier Levasseur. The showrunner is named Javid, who doesn't have social media but gets cornered into agreeing to join twitter (rather than our universe's tumblr). And Ed decides, on a lark, to start a fake twitter account, tag it #definitelynotjaviddenkins... and then freak out because a large contingent of fandom shows up on his metaphorical doorstep saying HELLO, JAVID.

As if this weren't enough: beyond the fic itself, suddenly a whole multimedia alternate universe suddenly appeared, with multiple twitter and AO3 accounts beyond just Stede and Ed, forming an entire fucking fandom, Goncharov-style, around Blow the Man Down. It was and continues to be fucking wild. It's also amazing. And the porn is surprisingly approachable. (BUT SEE AGAIN FOOTNOTE 1)

Grappling Hooks Breaching the Parasocial Divide

The thing is, though. The thing. That is.

I have officially reached Level 2 Curtain Clawing.

As I read the fic and the accompanying universe, I started to. Notice things.

References to soap (but... but surely that's normal. Many people talk about soap, not just amateur history enthusiasts like myself).

References to obscure scents (LABDANUM. Someone referenced labda-motherfucking-num. But surely. Surely it is not an entirely unheard of thing; I am not the first person to discover it or the fact that it gets combed from goats jesus christ the goat thing I forgot about that--)

References to the drilled coin from the wreck of Sam Bellamy's ship, which appeared as a random bit of possible future lore for Javid in this bit of enrichment (but I put in lots of possible lore! I had a whole thing going about figureheads! Bad luck to kill a seabird! I had a whole thing for a while where I thought maybe the digraph code Javid was hinting at was actually a Playfair cipher! I have been wrong many times before and added lots of random possible narratives. SO SURELY THE COIN IS A COINCIDENCE).

References to... okay not really references, and I've never articulated it quite like this (though this is definitely my vibe), but references to the idea of these puzzles and enrichment being a conversation in and of themselves, held at a remove and existing entirely in call (Javid) and response (the audience).

Finally... I started to notice that Stede decodes/interprets Ed-as-Javid's puzzles in a long twitter thread (like... like the one linked above) but also... sends back puzzles. Like, well, me.

"But STILL," I screech from the top of the curtain rail. "This could ALL BE COINCIDENCE," I yowl as friends and family try to bat me down with a broom. Even, by god, today's drop... which uses a password-protected url shortener. The exact same one I used in an earlier enrichment. But! It's not like there are a lot of those! Maybe this was just the first one that cropped up for Javid, just as it was the first that cropped up for me! (BUT THEN AGAIN, MAY I REFER YOU BACK TO FOOTNOTE 4)

The fic is at chapter 14. There are, if AO3 is to be believed, 7 more chapters to go, plus who knows how much additional extra-universe material. There is so. much. here.

...And so many more opportunities to climb all the curtains.

“It's a great huge game of chess that's being played—all over the world—if this is the world at all, you know.”

So at this point... what, in fact, is happening?

I'm inside a Schrodinger's box whose sides are entirely composed of parasocial uncertainty.

Maybe Javid is here. (HELLO, JAVID.)

Maybe he isn't! (HELLO, THE MIRROR IN MY ENCLOSURE.)

Maybe I'm not actually being referenced at all, but the writer of that twitter thead, @eefaevie, is (HI EEFAEVIE WHAT'S UP HOW'S THE PARASOCIAL AIR IN YOUR ENCLOSURE DOIN')

I don't know. I can't know. Unless someone opens the box.

and my god, what if they never do?

tl;dr. This is the most enriching fun I've had in months, and if the magic circle is going to widen to include me, then friend, I intend to BRING MY A-GAME.

---

FOOTNOTES

1. During the course of that mini-essay, I say the following:

"If it's someone who is not the dude but just a tumblrite who managed to catch on really quick? Well goddamn, good for them, and also A+ Wink-Nudge acrobatics. Real dude can have a peaceful time reading critical analyses of Goncharov, Javid here can quietly start introducing strange lore and running gags and other fun-with-plausible-deniability shenanigans".

One day later Javid starts answering questions about characters with enigmatic season 2 spoilery things; a little less than ten days later, we get the first fake link (which, imo, is the real start of the game).

2. This is now only 24 days after my "strange lore and fun with plausible deniability" post.

3. My dare: January 26. Javid's book code: February 4.

4. My tags on the post wherein I acknowledge that the dare has, possibly, been taken up, read: #you know what's cool? besides how #enrichment can go in BOTH enclosures #is how much you can do with html #like sure sure we've all seen the embedded links #but I remember the days of hidden source code messages #websites with delayed redirects #passwords hidden on one site to open the locked contents of another #you know #~normal things~ #I'm certain none of this will become relevant #because this is #definitely not a game

[rjmhereunderprotest]

Only Human: Species Bias in Fantasy/Science-Fiction

Let's get the premise for this little essay out of the way now: Humans are Boring. They are the most overused, overemphasized, overdone, overrated race in any fantasy/sci-fi setting. And I'm honestly SO tired of it. And by that I mean, humans, and human-like races, are consistently the primary characters of any story. Dwarves, Elves, Halflings, they're all overdone to death, but Humans? Those other races are generally just derivatives of them anyway and they are constantly placed into the primary focus of any story. Often to its detriment in my mind. We always complain about how we want other perspectives, different heroes, different narratives, but we always default to humans and frankly its gotten stale. For me, it's become even more so the longer this has gone on. So in a follow-up to my entry about Monster-Narratives with Sarah Kerrigan, let's talk about humans and why they're so goddamn boring.

Disclaimer First

I am not saying ALL human characters and ALL human centric stories are boring. I can name many a human character who is compelling and interesting and deep. My problem isn't humans as a central POV, my problem is when given the option in a setting to do ANYTHING and be ANYONE... a story will default to human. Every. Single. Time. And worse yet, they'll even make Non-Human races more human like.

Besides the aforementioned Dwarves, Elves and Hobbits, a lot of alien or fantasy races can end up just being humans with a slightly different coat of paint. You don't need to look any further than a lot of monster girl fiction, which has universally decided that you can just have any human woman put on cat ears or pop out a fox tail or grow some wings and presto chango they're a monster now I guess. It's cosplay, nothing more. No one actually has the dragon BE a dragon i full. They have to look like a human somehow.

And let's be clear here, the reason for this is obvious. Write what you know. Everyone knows how to be human, so it's easier to just WRITE a human. The perspective will ring more true if you know what a human is and can properly depict them. And since everyone is human, everyone at least has an idea of how they're supposed to be. I'm not blaming anyone for going to the default option on this, it makes sense.

But all across media there exists multiple opportunities to actually present a perspective or allow someone to step into the shoes of something that isn't human. That isn't just a derivative of humanity. That is truly foreign to them. Sadly they rarely take the chance and when they do... well, a lot of the times it falls into some bad writing clichés. Before we get into some of the main offenders, let's address one of said clichés of the bat to better understand why human centrism in genre fiction can lead to some terrible ideas.

Planet of Hats

The Planet of Hats is the well-worn concept that alien/fantasy races are monoliths. That every member of a species thinks like each other, acts like each other, builds their society around a singular concept, is entirely devoted to that particular concept, and is forever entrenched in that one state of mind forever. That is the Planet of Hats. You see it manifested in every Warrior Culture or Pacifist Society or Amazon Island or Gangster Planet. An entire people bent to serve a singular overriding "Problem of the Week" scenario to comment on a singular issue. Mostly by going completely overboard with it. And if you want to know the biggest offender of this... well, all those examples I listed come from one single IP who has done at least one iteration of those worlds over its very long life-span.

Sorry guys, it's true and you know it. For all the good Star Trek portends to be, all the progressive ideas it puts forward, for all the social commentary it has added to zeitgeist, one place it consistently falls short in is depicting alien races. How you ask? How is one of the most socially conscious and ethnically diverse franchises in history failing in this regard? Especially considering it has spawned some of the most iconic alien races in all of fiction?

Because as I just pointed out, a lot of their alien races are basically just one note stereotypes. Built around a single idea to create a "Problem of the Week" episode. This has been true as far back as the original series. Which was completely episodic and rarely if ever revisited alien races it ran across. Now of course there are mainstays and they've been fleshed out over the decades, but a lot of that fleshing out has been a result of Star Trek trying to push back on the Planet of Hats problem. And they still don't really address the crux of it.

The best way to explain Star Trek's problem lies in how one alien race was introduced to us, the Ferengi. You know them, the big eared hyper-capitalists who are best known for being the franchise's greedy assholes/Comic Relief. And boy, was their introduction a MESS.

It's fair to say the first two seasons of "The Next Generation" were... bad. As in... awful. "The Last Outpost" is one of those awful episodes where the Ferengi first showed up. Roddenberry, Star Trek's creator, wanted to evolve a lot of the concepts from the original series. The problem was he didn't have anyone to tell him "This doesn't work" The Ferengi were made to replace the dated "America vs Soviets" allegory that a lot of Trek's previous antagonist aliens represented. For Roddenberry, the real danger was unfettered capitalism. Hard to argue with that, problem was the Ferengi weren't a threat.

"The Last Outpost" presents the Ferengi less as an alien race and more like farcical clowns who basically exist to make the Federation (Humanity) look better by comparison. The Ferengi run around the entire episode, acting like unhinged monkeys, while Commander Riker struts about with his superior moral values and beliefs. At no point do the Ferengi resemble a legitimate threat to humanity. They're buffoons, made to present less a commentary on hyper-capitalism and more of a mockery of it. As a result, none of the Ferengi come off as characters, they're caricatures. Silly, nonsensical, idiots who are there to make Picard look righteous and humanity as more evolved.

Now let's not act like Roddenberry was supposed to be fair to the alien race he created to represent the things he hated. But he was supposed to make them a culture and not just strawmen he could beat up for an hour. Hell, decades earlier, he had bothered to give the Nazi Planet more nuance! And that was a planet, as stated, full of Nazis! But even that felt more like a culture than the Ferengi running around like baboons, hooting and hollering as they unconvincingly tried to pull one over on the natives they intended to exploit. Natives that the oh so perfect Federation, embodied by Commander Riker, easily protected by simple human fortitude and stalwart moral fiber.

Of course, years down the line, the Ferengi were finally developed into something that resembled a real civilization instead of punching bag. They actually had a degree of morals, not like the Federation, but they weren't entirely monstrous. Characters like Quark helped immensely in rehabilitating the image of the Ferengi without completely discarding their original characterization. But Star Trek has never really completely abandoned it's human centrism. Nor it's tendency to portray humanity in general as the "Better Way/Only Way."

Because let's be honest here, the Federation is just humanity. Sure other races are in there, work with them, and we are TOLD their customs and beliefs are respected, but be honest. How often have you seen an alien on Star Trek in a Command position? How often are aliens in Star Trek the central character? Has any captain or lead character in any Trek show ever not been a human?

You may point out Spock or Worf, and fair, but Spock is half-human and Worf was raised by humans. They're also not the Captain of the ship of their respective series. Even then, Vulcans and Klingons don't get off so easily. How many times have the Vulcans and their reliance on logic being criticized because they don't express outward emotion like humans? How many times have the Klingons had their culture scrutinized as purely violent? Yes, they've always come back around to highlight the value of their differing perspectives, how their voices at the table are worth listening to, and how there is more to them than just the warrior and hyper-logical. But ultimately, a lot of Star Trek comes back to how each of these alien races REALLY should become more human. Oh the Federation won't FORCE it on them, but they'll just kinda neg them on it. You should really show more emotion, Spock. You should really stop being so war-like, Worf. Be more human, be more sensible, conform! Why don't you conform already?

You might argue that's not the case, but it kinda is. Star Trek will always come around to how if a lot of these alien races were more like the Federation's ideal of humanity, they'd all be much better off. And it all stems from the Planet of the Hats cliché. Which purely exists to give the Federation some problem to preach about and argue against. The Federation won't conquer you to be like them, but they will kinda pressure you to change. And sure, a lot of these cultures could do with reform. But a planet existing purely to be used as a soap box isn't a culture, it's just the Ferengi of "The Last Outpost" again.

I'll sum this section up in terms that were expressed by Chuck Sonnenberg of SFDebris. Star Trek's tendency to put alien races in a box is detrimental to its world building. If Germany was a fictional race in Star Trek, it would be defined by industrial power, a love of war, and expansionist foreign policy coached in racial purity. That even after being defeated, said society would constantly be trying to claw back to its perceived glory days, never changing, just constantly being stuck in its singular mindset for all eternity. The only thing keeping them in check being the Federation of United Planets, mostly dominated by humans, who shake their heads at how awful Germans are for refusing to change and be more like them.

Doesn't that sound stupid? And if the Federation of Star Trek, the epitome of Optimistic Science Fiction, can make such a mistake, how do franchises that aren't so hopeful and cheer faire? Star Trek is an incredibly influential series in genre fiction. It informs a lot about how its done even today. If it can't help but put humans on a pedestal, even though it shouldn't because that's antithetical to its own world-building, how have other IPs faired in that regard?

Well... not good. Not good at all.

Center of Everything

I could list so many examples of humans being positioned as the most important element of any fantasy or sci-fi story. It almost feels redundant. Star Wars generally has humans as its main protagonists. A good deal of Lord of the Rings involves the nations of men being the main bulwark against the forces of Mordor. Earth is basically the most important planet in both Marvel and DC and humanity is the most special of all races out there. How many humans get to be a part of the Green Lantern Corps? Overall, humans are going to be the focus of any story. Even if they exist in a setting where they aren't the only sapient race out there. Humans get to take center stage and lead the plot. Even if they really shouldn't and they aren't supposed to and you know where this going...

I think this is probably the best example I can use to point out how Human Centrism can be a problem. Because I think enough people at this point recognize what went wrong with the live-action Transformers movies. Yeah, I know some folks keep trying to rehabilitate them, I don't care. I'm dying on this hill! They were never that good!

A movie about the Transformers should not be so reliant on the squishy humans that no one ever cared about. A series of dynamic characters who, at the point of the first Bay Movie's premiere, had carried several stories on their own despite not being human! A race of alien robots with intriguing inter-cultural dynamics, opinions, philosophies, so much character and complexity. Sure they were toy commercials at the end of the day, but no one who watched Dinobot's sacrifice in Beast Wars' "Code of a Hero" would be able to deny that the series could not transcend that stigma! The Transformers were always meant to be the center of their franchise, as they rightly should be because they can carry it just fine on their own.

Then Michael Bay showed up and decided to turn the whole series into an extended US Army Recruitment Commercial instead. I think we can all agree Military-Industrial Complex Propaganda is far worse than making kids want to bug their parents for toys. But that's neither here nor there, even if Bay hadn't been jerking off to the US Military in these movies, the problem with them was apparent from moment one. When the films became more about Shia LeBeouf wanting to get laid than the alien robots. The films excessively/progressively revolved around humans and their interactions with the Transformers. They became the primary focus more and more until they essentially took over huge swaths of the plot and narrative. Autobots and Decepticons alike, no matter how important, iconic or well-known, were very casually tossed aside and killed off over the various sequels. And no one really cared because the Transformers on both sides became so highly interchangeable and forgettable that sometimes you could blink and miss them. Remember Arcee? Prominent female autobot? Strangely split into three motocycles for some reason? Murdered to death! With only one line of dialogue!

Oh sure, Optimus and Bumblebee got to be front and center, but mostly because they got to be colors that were just a mess of greys, browns and blacks. That and Optimus is by far the most popular of all the Transformers and the face of the franchise. But if you want an example of humans taking over a narrative to its detriment, Michael Bay's Transformers movies are the singular defining example of just such a problem. And you probably heard the defenses, it gave audiences a anchor point, a relatable view, something they could connect with.

Strange, none of the fans over the years needed humans to help them connect to any of the alien robots that were the main narrative focus of countless tv shows and comics. But I suppose Hollywood Executives know better. When have they ever been wrong, right?

To be honest though, this is nothing new. Science-Fiction especially has always had a problem with positioning humans as ultra-super special. And some people could recognize it for the dangerous prospect of what it was. Issac Asimov noted John W. Campbell's tendency to position humans as the most important or superior race as opposed to others it encountered in fiction. And to Asimov, that also appeared to extend to the smaller scale of reality and Campbell's... well, let's say belief in American Exceptionalism. Asimov didn't like arguing with Campbell, so he tried to avoid using aliens too much.

You can see the problem though, insisting on the exceptionalism of humanity often denotes a general sense of racial/national superiority. There's nothing wrong with rooting for the home team, but not everything should be a competition and humans shouldn't take over every story for themselves. Especially if it isn't their own, like the Transformers. Their franchise is proof enough that humans don't have to be central element to be successful. And yet, until now, most theatrical films felt the need to involve humans in some aspect. And sadly, because of "Transformers One's" not so stellar box office performance, that belief might persist. And it will continue to hamstring the Transformers property like it does with other stories in genre fiction.

Illusion of Choice

Even if this mindset doesn't inherently compromise a story's narrative, it can still kneecap it. The best example of how involves gaming, specifically RPGs. Despite portending that our "choices matter", so often in games they do not. Because, here again, too many franchises decide that the only perspective that matters is one that looks similar to you.

Discounting the many video games that might allow you to be an alien, monster or even just an animal, because they are out there, I feel far too many RPGs can be very limiting. Does Fallout let you pick if you want to be a Ghoul or Super Mutant? No. That's only been a recent development and only for one game and its an MMO. Video games in general, when set in a fantasy or sci-fi world will default to one of the pre-approved human or human-like races, if they present the choice at all. Dragon Age 2 famously hard locked you into being a human despite the last game letting you pick your race. Now you can say that's because they had a set story to tell that needed the characters to be human. But it's still jarring.

And I think there's one instance where BioWare itself had a huge opportunity to change things... but decided they were just going to play it safe.

After three games of playing Commander Shepard, who had to be human because that made the most sense for the story they were telling, BioWare had an opportunity to shake things up. They had a whole new story, not tied to Shepard. A whole new galaxy, again, not tied to Shepard or humanity itself. And they decided to just go with another human character... again. Mass Effect has probably some of the most diverse alien races out there and even now, you can still only play them through multiplayer. The main games? Stuck with human protagonists.

I'll freely admit I probably defend Andromeda more than most Mass Effect fans. Not completely, because it does have a lot of problems, but I admire it for what it was TRYING to do. What I can't forgive is what it didn't even attempt. It could've easily crafted a story that enabled the player to pick whatever race they wanted to play as. Turian, Asari, Salarian or Krogan! Quarians! They could've let us be quarians, but NO! We are always stuck as humans, never given the opportunity to experience this galaxy through any other eyes but human ones! Even when given the perfect opportunity to do so, Andromeda chickens out and just sticks us as an ordinary human again.

It's so painfully sad. And while being given the option to be something other than a human probably wouldn't have fixed the game's other problems, at the very least it would've been looked at as some admirable. As something that tried to expand Mass Effect's unique setting and give more dimension to the aliens it had crafted.

Humans are simply the safe option. Safe to animate, safe to draw, safe to craft stories for, safe to empathize with. The second you have to do it for something that is properly alien or decisively not human, that's when you run into trouble. Because if you can't get the audience to connect with a character, it's over. And that becomes harder if the alien or fantasy creature does not share something in common with us.

It's kinda sad honestly that the biggest departure from human-based races that Dragon Age has even done is qunari. And they're technically just horned giant people. They're not exactly inhuman enough, hell if character creation teases are anything to go by, they've actually tried to make them MORE human looking for the next game.

Which brings us to a whole other issue that is pushing us further down this hole within the confines of gaming itself. For far too long now, the gaming industry has become increasingly obsessed with hyper-realism, both in graphics and design. Unique artistic styles and aesthetics have slowly been eroded away by an obsession among developers and publishers alike. A need to force characters and games themselves to be grounded in the real, no matter how fantastical the setting is.

lately, people have often complained about how the faces of game characters have gotten "ugly" over the years. The stupid among these people think its a conspiracy to get rid of sexy ladies in video games and alter beauty standards in the mainstream for some agenda. The reality is known to the smarter set of folks, who have seen the industry cultivate motion capture technology to reduce their reliance on artists to craft characters for them. Just get a recognizable face or literally anyone you can find and make them act out the lines while wearing a facial capture rig. You wanna blame anyone for making women in gaming less sexy? Blame LA Noire for proving the viability of facial animation capturing, not some evil conspiracy of developers obsessed with some innocuous message.

As a result, gaming has emphasized realism more and more in its aesthetic design philosophy. Particularly among the Triple A Games, where they seem to think that if the characters don't look real, gamers will feel that things look too old and ugly. There's no room for artistic interpretation, that costs money. No, slap a rig on some actor's face and make them do all the work. You wanna know why MJ in the second Spider-Man game looked off to you? Well that's because the actress is a real person and faces don't always stay the same and alterations to a face scan can potentially mess things up even more.

She also suffered a car accident that required doctors to reconstruct her face, but that's probably only a minimal issue since she you can't really tell the difference as I understand it.

The point is, hyper-realism has damaged gaming to an insane degree artistically and further harmed non-human characters. Because in order to get that hyper-realistic look, games have compromised themselves. Now the qunari look even more like SyFy channel aliens than ever. The boundless creativity of CG reduced to what can be produced on a budget within the make-up chair.

And I don't expect Mass Effect's eventual fifth entry to be much better. If BioWare is still this scared about letting us play something truly non-human in a fantasy setting, then they're not even going to try to let you build your own turian in Mass Effect Beyond or whatever generic subtitle they shove onto it.

And yet its doable, they can let you craft an non-human character to be the main hero. The fact Elder Scrolls was letting you do this for years is proof enough of that. Baldur's Gate 3 revealing I could be a Dragonborn was enough to convince me to pick it up eventually. Admittedly, any game that lets me be a lizard or reptile of some kind instantly has my attention if not purchase. Purely for this very essay's stated hypothesis, it's almost impossible to find any game that will let me play as something that isn't human. Because far too many games and stories prefer to just fallback on boring humans.

And yet, nothing I've mentioned so far is the worst example of this problem.

Ultrabores in the Grimbore Future

I'm not going to mix words here. The Imperium of Man of Warhammer 40k is boring. There I said it. And it's this feeling that is impetus for this entire little article of mine. In the lead up to the release of Space Marine 2, and looking further into the lore of 40k itself, I came across two inescapable truths for me.

1: Every other race in the setting was 10x more interesting and compelling, both character and lore wise.

2: Every Imperium of Man Fanboy is an Insufferable Douche Canoe of the Highest Order.

I might be overstating that last point, but it's hard to be subtle about this because I don't think anyone is going to listen otherwise. The Imperium fucking sucks! And I don't mean as characters, I don't mean as a faction gameplay wise, I mean in-universe it SUCKS. There is NOTHING admirable about this future human civilization or anything they stand for. They're objectively fucking horrible and Games Workshop itself has admitted this. And yet, despite this fact that even the most ardent hobbyist of this tabletop will admit to, you still will find more than enough Stans of the God-Emperor of Mankind who will INSIST they are the good guys. Or at the very least, necessary for the survival of humankind.

My answer to that is no. Very emphatically, NO. The Imperium of Man is not neccessary, at least it didn't have to be. It did not have to be this cruel, this dogmatic, this blindly loyal, this xenocidal and racist. It did not have to be at all like what it is, but because of the choices of Emperor himself, it is now! And it probably can't unfuck itself, because it's already fucked over so many other people within and outside its realm of control. It does emphasize the good things about humanity, it's oozes all the worst aspects of it. That's its point. That's why this universe is Grimdark. That's why it's not a good thing that humanity has become what it is in this future.

And yet, Imperium fanboys will refuse to budge. Insistent that the Emperor did everything right and it was only everyone else not just laying down and dying that screwed anything up, if at all. And while Games Workshop itself has stated the opposite, explained in detail that this franchise is satire, that you should not take the actions of the Imperium of Man as a lesson for how to run a civilization or your life... guess what the biggest seller and face of 40k franchise is?

Yep, humans.

You might think that's a contradiction, but it makes sense you realize those are the figures that sell the most. Therefore, the Imperium gets the most books, the most lore, the most focus on media outside the main tabletop. Sure they've made games where you play as the xeno factions and books with aliens as protagonists. But the majority of 40k lore is all about Humanity and it's really affected how this franchise is viewed at this point.

You see it doesn't matter how often you say something is satire or that it's aspirational. If you place the spotlight on it long enough, people start to gravitate towards it. The Imperium of Man, being the most popular of 40k's factions, is a victim of its own success in this regard. It has become increasingly difficult to separate the satirical dark comedy of the Imperium from the lore's various attempts to make them the most badass of all badasses. People like watching struggles for survival, conflict of epic scale, heroic sacrifices, it makes for really compelling drama. It also more often than not whitewashes all the bad things the Imperium does if you overly focus on all the cool shit the Space Marine chapters pull off.

You tend to forget that the only reason anyone survived the Fall of Cadia is because a bunch of Eldar showed up to help evacuate humans. Or that Cadia only stayed standing for so long because a Nekron helped out. You ignore the pointless war that turned Kreig into a wasteland, when all anyone talks about is how the Death Corps can take down Tau with a shovel. You can point out how the Emperor is in fact, for all intents and purposes, fucking dead, but when it's coming out of the mouth of a dude who's following a sadistic murder god, it's not very convincing. People always come back to this when the Imperium is involved. "So what if they suck, they're humanity's best and only option at survival. And they're fucking badass!" And Games Workshop doesn't push back on this, mostly to not piss off its fans, generally though because tried to do that once before and it backfired.

The Tau Empire used to be an up and coming foil to the Imperium in many ways. They were ruled by reason and science, not blind dogmatic faith and religious zealotry. They believed in harmony among the races, not genocide and supremacy. They had an optimistic and hopeful view of the galaxy, as opposed to the fatalistic one the Imperium had. As it stood, they were the most heroic out of all the 40k races... and a bunch of fans, mostly Imperium as I understand it, hated them. They felt they ruined the grimdark setting by being too goody good.

So Games Workshop eventually just gave in and decided to change the lore. The Tau were only like that because their leadership was essentially mind controlling them. Great, so they're no better than anyone else in this future. Wonderful. Can't have an opposing view from the Emperor's that might turn out to be a better path forward. Nah, turn them into a brainwashed cult essentially to further justify the existence of the Imperium. Forget that an earnestly good society in a galaxy that is probably fucked beyond repair is probably sufficiently grimdark since they're such a young race but probably equally doomed. We need to make EVERYTHING in this setting so completely utterly hopeless, because anything less means the Emperor is wrong for creating the circumstances that made everything worse.

And as a result, the Imperium of Man is the one major roadblock for me getting into this franchise. Now, don't misunderstand, there are things about the Imperium I like and find interesting. Like many, I like Captain/Lieutenant Titus, because he's not a dogmatic sycophant who acts like a religious zealot. I do actually like the Death Corps of Kreig if only from a history buff perspective because I'm into the WWI Aesthetic they have going on. And of course there are the Salamanders, the only Space Marines I will ever consider truly heroic because they give a shit about things besides duty and honor, as well as possess some degree of empathy for other lifeforms. I enjoyed the first Space Marine game a lot! It's why I picked up the sequel.

However, all of these points have asterisks next to them. The Death Corps of Kreig are cool VILLAINS to an extent. I don't think you can ever present them as heroes given their mindset or origins. That's true of a lot of things within the Imperium. The Salamanders are still beholden to the dogma that has consumed a good deal of the Imperium and they are not really going to do anything to break off from it. And while I enjoyed the first Space Marine game and had fun with Boltgun, let's just admit something right now... half the enjoyment of the original Space Marine Game came from this dude.

Grimskull was probably the most fun antagonist to go up against in any game. Him just yelling "Space Marine!" in his ridiculous Cockney accent always made me smile. Titus, as badass as he is, lacks quite a bit in the personality department. The sequel doesn't do much better, even if his character arc is at least serviceably good in that game. But he remains stoic and loyal, he isn't exactly a dynamic figure like Grimskull was. And be honest with yourself, that first game got real boring after you killed the Warboss.

That's the problem I have with 40k. There are so many more interesting, compelling, fascinating alien races. Sure, none of them are perfect good guys and a lot of them are downright evil... but they're at least unique! I had a lot more fun learning about the Orks honestly than I did listening to the one hundredth iteration of something super epic and cool an Ultramarine did. We get it, they're Master Chief and Doomguy on Steroids! Do they do anything else besides pontificate about how awesome the Emperor is and go on about duty and honor more than Zuko in season one? The Orks might be idiot rampaging soccer hooligans, but at least they're funny.

And yet there are far fewer Ork, Eldar and especially Tau related books and media than the plethora of Imperium related works that have overstuffed everything. And if you admit to liking anything other than the Imperium of Man, especially the Tau, you are instantly ridiculed. I would honestly pay way more money just to play as Commander Farsight than Titus. Because Farsight feels like a natural progression for Titus to take, but never will. He just can't. While Farsight will leave his government behind and strike out on a new path to pursue the Greater Good as he now sees it, Titus can't, because that would only be seen as heresy, both by fans and in-universe.

Imperium Stans will look at this picture and honestly claim this fucking sucks without hesitation. That's the degree of brainrot they give off. Calling some of the coolest looking shit lame.

I just instantly felt Farsight is a more compelling and complex character by default because of his arc. Whereas Titus will never really change much beyond what he is, a reasonable enough Ultramarine in a sea of equally super serial hardasses that aren't much different from him. He just thinks a bit more for himself.

Farsight's crew of mech piloting badasses at least have variety. But to my surprise, so many others didn't agree, annoyed apparently that Farsight was able to resist corruption of demons, baffled at how it was possible because he lacked faith in the glorious God-Emperor of Man! None of them considered that maybe, just maybe, Farsight was able to resist corruption because he's not governed by religious dogma at all. Maybe his open-mindedness and ability to reason protected him just fine! But can't have that I guess, humans have to remain special after all.

Despite everything going for him, actually retaining a proper sense of heroism, being a truly good person who wants to do the right thing even in a universe full of shit, I still saw Imperium fans giving Farsight shit over the stupidest of things. I found a video on YouTube not long ago concerning how Farsight rightfully pointed out the weaknesses of the Imperium Titan Mecha. Oversized bulky machines that are millennia old. But while scary, Farsight noted how they can be defeated and are not as efficient or effective as the Space Marines were. The comments were FILLED with Imperium stans laughing at this bit of lore, calling Farsight names and declaring that the Titans were older than his whole civilization as if that was some kind of gotcha.

Everything the Imperium uses is older than shit though, that doesn't make it better. The reason it's so old is because the Imperium does not know how to make this shit anymore. They lost the knowledge when they rejected science in favor of their stupid religious dogma. Now their old as fuck spaceships are finite, same as their Titans. The Tau can replace their losses, the Imperium ultimately cannot. And yet here were the fanboys, praising how cool and awesome the Titans were, ignoring Farsight beat one easily, had video to prove it and that they essentially sound like those weirdos who jerkoff constantly about how awesome the Tiger Tank was. Despite it being an overly expensive over-designed mistake. One that both the Americans and Russians put to bed because their tanks didn't need special parts to function or guzzled up fuel like a thirsty pig.

Treating Titans as superior because they are older than the Tau is like arguing a Trebuchet is better than an Abrams Tank. Sure, one is way older than the nation that created the other. Doesn't mean its going to last very long in a one on one fight. But because humans have to be super special and awesome in 40k, we can never point out how their various systems, beliefs and strategies are outdated and costly.

Frankly, I'm more interested in Warhammer Fantasy by default by this point. Not just because they have a full faction of lizard people, although that is a plus. But because the factions of that universe are more diverse, interesting and not as mired in adherence to the grimdark lore mindset. Even the human civilizations are more compelling because they're not all one singular entity and have differing ideologies and strategies. I'll take that over being expected to look at the Ultramarines in awe simply because they do something badass every Tuesday which will get them six more books whereas Farsight still only has two.

And I don't think I need to point out what this has resulted in. As Asimov feared, placing humans on the superiority pedestal has emboldened that very sentiment in reality. Look no further than the current fervor over the existence of a Black Space Marine and a female guardsman officer in Space Marine 2. Even with fans pointing out how both of those things are both perfectly fine in canon, it doesn't change just how much 40k has attracted a lot of racists over the years. So much so they had to change tournament rules to prevent people from wearing actual Nazi uniforms to events because one asshole did so.

If there is any franchise that truly showcases the dangers of humancentric narratives it's Warhammer 40k. Because we are hardwired to root for the home team and we've also proven that we're incapable of reading satire. Creating the perfect storm of events that leads to far too many people stanning a literal Fascist-Dogmatic Forever War Machine. And while Games Workshop has tried to get the other factions more time in the sun, I'm not sure they can ever manage to get them up to the same level of prestige as the Imperium if they keep holding themselves back from just giving the Space Marines a damn rest for a second.

Room on the Party Wagon

I don't want to make it seem like it's all so hopeless. That there's no way for mainstream audiences to overlook their inherent human bias. I do believe it is possible for non-human protagonists to take center stage in a property and remain there. I believe that because I've seen it done before. In fact, I was quite literally there.

If there is any more miraculous franchise than the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, I don't know of it. There should be no reality where two guys making a sketch of a nunchucking turtle for funsies in an apartment while chowing down on pizza could launch something this everlasting. And yet they did it. Ninja Turtles, 40 years later, is still going strong. And all with a lead cast made of decidedly non-human lead heroes. Better yet, it didn't stop with Leo, Raph, Donnie and Mikey. Over the years, countless heroes and villains have been added to the mythos. A good number of them fellow mutated animals, all with distinct personalities, motivations and interpretations over countless adaptations and timelines. It is truly astonishing to have been there from the start of Turtle Mania and to have never had them go away for very long.

And again, all with primary character who aren't human. How? Simple enough, people gravitated to the Ninja Turtles. They had distinct vibrant personalities. They were fun and colorful and different. They connected you to them by getting you to recognize their relatability.

There is still an interest in non-human protagonists, and not just dwarves or elves. I'm not alone in my desire to have something other than my own species take the spotlight now and then. Wings of Fire is fairly popular series that stars no humans at all for the most part. In fact they rarely show up. The real stars of the franchise are dragons, big fire-breathing dragons who all have unique cultures and perspectives that incredibly well-fleshed out and intricate. They're also not entirely humanized either, as dragons have very different morality and cultural cues from humans.

Another interesting take on things can be found in Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3. Which, despite having him out for most of the runtime, was all about Rocket. He was an absent protagonist, but he was the primary because everything revolved around his story and towards him finally accepting his species' name and moving past his survivor's guilt. Rocket is probably the most prominent non-human hero in the entirety of the MCU as a result and that's a big deal.

What I'm saying ultimately is that there is room for multiple perspectives. Not just the ones we're the most comfortable with. Because if we only accept the experiences of those we consider familiar, we will never understand those that are other. The road to a society like the Imperium of Man is based in one of mistrust, fear and prejudice. To avoid that, we must be willing to look through the eyes of others and learn about the human experience from something that is not. That is what the best of science-fiction and fantasy can allow for.

If such genres are meant to be an escape, what greater escape can be found but one that is outside our limited human experience. We can never know it is like to fly, or swim deep beneath the sea, or see from a dozen eyes or just one. But we can imagine ourselves in that role and empathize with that which is alien to us. If we limit our fantasies then we limit ourselves, our imagination, our ability to connect. If all you desire in your sci-fi or fantasy is for some big burly human with a sword, regular steel or chainsaw, to murder orks and aliens, then that's fine. But there are others among us who don't want such arbitrary limitations. Humans are not boring by nature, but picking the same old fantasies and escapes IS boring. We could do with changing things up more.

What I'm saying is, it would not hurt anyone if they just did one Triple A Title in the style of the Space Marine games but for Farsight instead. We don't always have to be the Space Marine. Notif we've be okay being a Ninja Turtle. There's room for all perspectives, human or otherwise, in genre fiction. We should be doing more to open up the gates for those experiences. Sooner rather than later.

[miniscrew-anon]

Texting HC for the boys

Wind - Uses discord way more than text. Commonly mutes chats. He gets a million discord messages from different groups and he can't be bothered to listen to every time someone complains about the mountain of dishes he left in the sink. If you really want to reach Wind you have to jump on discord or go to his room.

Twilight - Doesn’t like to send more than one message in a row because someone called him desperate one (1) time in high school and he never recovered. So instead he’ll send you a whole paragraph and agonize if he forgot to mention something. Everyone’s told him its fine to send literally a million texts in a row but Twi can’t get over it.

Warriors - Will 🙌 ironically 😎 text 📲 like ❤️ this 👏. But only when he wants to be annoying. Otherwise he’s fine and he can use emojis like hieroglyphics if he wants and he’s able to make himself very clear with just an eggplant emoji and a raised brow emoji.

Wild - Commonly texts the wrong chat and confuses the hell out of people. Accidentally forgets his phone in the other room and doesn’t see people’s messages until its several hours too late btu still texts them back like “oops sorry just saw this man” as if they didn’t know. Uses emojis liberally and goes on tangents and makes everyone forget what they were talking about. The people love hearing from him, but its hard to stay on topic when Wild is in the group chat.

Champion - Full words, no abbreviations. Will straight up send you an “acknowledged” instead of an “ok” to let you know he read your message. Never uses emojis. Ever. The one time Warriors did convince Champ to send a thumbs up emoji to Sky instead of “affirmative”, Sky almost broke down the dormitory door because he thought Champion had gotten kidnapped and was sending a coded cry for help.

Legend - Spams the fuck out of everyones phone when he’s pissed, which is a lot of the time. Doens’t give a shit what group text he’s in he’ll fucking send you an essay one sentance at a time cursing Sky out for eating the last of his goddamn breadpudding.

Hyrule - Never responds on time. He’s always busy and in a rush so when he reads a text and it doesn’t say something like “help i got shanked and now my liver is flopping around on the ground like a beached fish” then he’ll promptly forget what he just read. At the end of the day he might flip through his messages to check what he missed but normally he relies on Legend to fill him in on anything important.

Sky - Forgets which group chats hold which roommates so he’s the guy who will start a new chat every time he has a question. Has basically every permutation of group chats possible and yet will still find a way to make more. And he gives them names like “get milk” and “hairdryer?” so you never know whos in the group chat at a glance. It’s impossible to find anything. Plus, he sends texts half-asleep that mean nothing when he gets woken up too early.

Four - His texts are inconsistent as hell. Sometimes its emoji hell, sometimes it’s MLA essay format. But two things are always consistent: you can always detect the sarcasm and he’ll turn on his read receipts just to let you know he left you on read.

Time - Texts in full sentences but overall is a normal texter. But he types with his pointer finger with two hands so his real crime is being old.

Dark - When he got put away texting was in its infancy so he texts like “G8 C u L8r” and “ur 2 much”. The first time he texts Time after he gets out Time feels his soul vaporized by the blast from the past. Thankfully it only takes Dark one text to Shadow before the boy is physically showing up outside Dark's door to bring him into this century.

Shadow - Spams dumbass videos and memes like his life depends on it. His job is a lot of waiting around so he’s got time to kill and you Will receive messages from him at 39 mph (memes per hour).

[cloudmancy]

i don't want to be mean or anything but like. the cr/t/cal r/le girlies in the dimension 20 tag are just sending me like, i just Knew these people be just all over this season and diving in and dissecting every little detail and speculating for the larger picture (of six episodes) (plus a season that's already been out for a year) as though people like. haven't been having to Sit with the Very, Very unfinished/untold part of the world of this campaign setting for Years already? (the Widely Established Fanlore of it all XD) although that's also been also been folding in the face of. all the colin posts (like Specifically colin too past even colin+raphaniel or colin+deli). like they fell for the cr bait so hard- group of fans starved for mlm content based on their typical cr diet, see a guy (Just Some Guy) looking the way he was, see his mysterious past and divorce and arc and glowup and post-divorce talks and. yknow. whaddya gonna do. that's all they're gonna talk about when the EXPLICITLY mlm radish priest who's been grooming that VERY SAME cheese guy for five years is right there.

anyways i'm going to write all that off anon and pretend i'm not deathly scared of invoking the wrath of cr fans after that thing on twitter

IT'S ACTUALLY REALLY FUNNY YEAH. gonna address the colin part first then talk about my problems with the season under a spoiler. listen I think deli & colin are very real in that deli wants him SO bad but it's crazy that people are dancing around colin's whole thing with raphaniel. like what do you guys think was going on there 😭 'he's his babysitter' SAY IT OUT LOUD! he was fucking that radish

now for my thoughts about the plot and pacing of ravening war

I do not like that this season (that was supposed to be about a war covering 7+ years of intense political conflict and full-scale warfare involving every country in the continent) got boiled down to 2 massive timeskips & 3 battle episodes of five guys fucking around in a cave because the entire war was actually started by a secret cult. there were no battles involving the actual war + 1 skill check for entire 5 years at a time + almost nothing politics wise + they missed the ENTIRE climatic final push for the end of the war because they were underground. it's so poorly paced, I really don't know what to say. am I the crazy one here for wanting a season about the ravening war to be about the war? it just doesn't feel like the characters had any impact on the plot past episode 3 and they ONLY because they kill the queen of candia because a cult told them to. because we get alliances forged and broken and conflicts ended and rulers crowned within the span of a single sentence from the DM before we chug back off to the mycelium hivemind main plot. hot take but every season does not in fact need a plot twist big bad to fight

all of the characters in the season are genuinely the most interesting characters I've seen in YEARS. it's a goddamn shame we didn't get to spend more time with them. it sucks that each of them brought so much intrigue and backstory to the war, but every single one of them ended up contributing not much at all to the scale of the campaign because, again, the final boss turned out to be a cult within the top secret cult of mushrooms that was ALREADY a secret but there is also ANOTHER, more powerful deity to fight in the very last episode. we needed more episodes, or less time spent on battles. we needed to not bring on a DM known for having all the time in the world to wrap up years-long campaigns in 5 hour chunks at a time, for a 6 ep miniseason. we did not need two more powerscaled deities for no reason to a war that should have been about the people and not... random alien eldritch forces. we needed closure on amangeaux's child, we needed to know WHY raphaniel was poisoning the king and starting a war in the first place. aabria wrote a whole essay about karna's backstory that I would've loved to see in the show itself, but... we didn't get to see it! there were almost no politics. we did get 4 separate secret underground mushroom fights though. in a campaign about a war.

"real life is messy! not everything gets wrapped up neatly! it reflects real wars!" this is a dnd show sir and when you spend 20 minutes out of 12 hours of content actually talking politics and the rest of the time fucking around with mushrooms in a cave, it starts to look less like a deliberate artistic choice and more like poorly paced plot threads that didn't get a chance to finish.

[thedawningofthehour]

Tbh I just love how Deep In The Shit Draxum and Galois are at this point with whatever the outcome of all of this is. I think, in a lot of stories where a main character is brainwashed and joins the bad guys, they always pull their punches in how long it lasts and what they do while they've switched sides. But here, not only has Draxum gotten Donnie/Galois to do some Heinous Shit (not only to his family once he figures all that shit out, but like. Yknow. War) but also??? The genuine emotional bond.

Like. In terms of long term damage and pain, the genuine care and rapport Draxum and Galois have is probably my favorite* part of DOTH because how do you 1) resolve the idea of someone who you think loves and cares about you and you have more in common with than almost anybody doing THAT to you and 2) how do you process that part of your life where things were undeniably good (and in some ways better) with the fact that it only came from pain and led you to do horrible things?? Every single twist in this story has me on the edge of my emotional seat Donnie is going to have psychological issues beyond comprehension when this is all done

*this is technically a lie because my real favorite thing about DOTH is your fantastic hidden city worldbuilding. Its become canon to me and also I could hear about how yokai society works forever. You really make it feel real in a way that really makes the story click. I also lump Draxums family under here bc they are legit fantastic break Bella out of jail so i may propose marriage

I very much dislike it when authors so clearly try to keep their precious darlings from doing anything problematic. Especially when they're trying to portray them as being morally grey or in the wrong, or even just showing poor judgement.

Katniss kills a civilian woman without hesitation to protect her squad. Zuko burns down Kyoshi village searching for the Avatar. Daenerys throws an entire region into chaos in her noble but naïve attempt to wipe out slavery. These are all characters we're supposed to like, that we generally do still like in spite of their problematic actions. (unless you're a Dany hater, in which case get off my blog and learn some reading comprehension) Their misdeeds give them depth, places to improve themselves and mature. That's what characters should be doing. If your protagonist keeps their hands clean the entire time, not only do they end up passive observers in their own story but it gives them no opportunity for growth. Daenerys learning from her ignorance and sculpting herself into a better ruler is not only a major component of her own story, but it's what sets her apart from the five kings. Avatar wouldn't be half of what it is without Zuko's redemption arc. And Katniss had to be that merciless, fatalistic Mockingjay to kill Coin-and killing Coin changes the meaning of the entire story.

The fucking world-building. I just watched a video today on world-building tips, and the guy doing the video essay used a Rubic's Cube as a metaphor for putting together all the different parts that make up a living, interesting fictional world and making them work together, with the disclaimer of DO NOT BUILD YOUR ENTIRE GODDAMN WORLD IN FULL DETAIL FOR THE LOVE OF GOD THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE YOU WILL DIE. And I felt that on an emotional level. I've been re-reading ASOIAF lately, and I'm starting to develop more sympathy for Germ taking 'checks notes' twelve years so far to write the next book. I think he's legit weighed down by Worldbuilder's Disease and now the story is too big for him to hold up. I very much enjoy the world-building, don't get me wrong, I wouldn't be doing it if I didn't. But oh my god it is a well with no bottom and I am pressing my feet and shoulders against the side trying not to fall.

[alkaloidalypse]

im too tired to make a long essay of me overanalyzing the mv so im just gonna rocket fire my general thoughts about it 

SIKE this game has me on a chokehold i can never stop overanalyzing

LIKE THIS SHOT. ITS SUCH A TINY CHANGE IN EXPRESSION, SO LITERALLY TINY, BUT IT CONVEYS SO MUCH EMOTION AND I HATE IT HERE 

no but seriously i infer its because natsume was the one who wrote their ‘happy ending’. so him having an expression like this is like a ‘4th wall breaking’ because natsume was the writer in this ending. but this ending never happened. 

alternatively, it could just be a genuine expression he would have made if they did have this ending. im not entirely sure if its meant to be negative or a positive emotion but im guessing its more positive. like a “we did it. we’re here. im happy we’re all here together and i won’t have it any other way”

then we have this specific shot

“We want to feel your rhythm (Right here).”

do i have any idea whats going on right here? no. i just unfortunately have a lot of emotions 

---

the second part i want to at least talk about was the choice to change the instrumental of the animation mv. put it simply, i love both renditions but i wondered why they decided to make the instrumental different. from what i remember, the instrumental for genuine revelation was the same for the animation mv, so why the change?

im not going to guess the music direction they took but there is something i realized upon listening to both of them. 

ive listened to the original more times i could count now, and i remember how ‘happy’ it sounded until you see the lyrics and remember the story of the five eccentrics. its from there the ‘happiness’ of the song lessened to something more bittersweet in a way. the music is happy, but their story is not. they aren’t the winners, so they sing their sorrows, lament on the fate they are being pushed into but at least being able to find joy having each other, even if in the end they have to suffer for it. and as the listener, while enjoying the music i don’t necessarily feel joy (it is still a beautiful song)

but the new mix of eccentric party night, the whole music video, i can’t keep up with it. there were so many things going on on screen and the instrumental is so drastically different from the original. the build ups, the techno sounds, honestly all of that reminded me of a rave party

and that’s when i realized. that’s exactly what the animation mv was about. its a freaking party. no duh, its in the title. but they basically took that word and use it in their mv tenfold. a party is a celebration, a happy occasion, and in this ending that’s impossible to achieve, there is something worth celebrating

the lyrics are still the same, their voices are still the same. but somehow, the energy and vibe was completely changed. its like they’re hyping the crowd up to join in their party. theres birds flying, sparklers around the stage, natsume doing magic that affected the whole room, glowing balloons and said balloons being released into the air. freaking confetti everywhere, the lights changing depending on the chorus and verse and GOD there’s just so MANY things going on and it never stops. its a goddamn party and im loving it

even the group itself, they kept on jumping and twirling around while still doing the main choreography and keeping this energy up the entire time

honestly, i have not felt this hyped listening to an enstars song before. every time i watched the mv i just want to jump and join them in their dancing. i should be sad. i should feel bittersweet about it. but for some reason, im not

maybe eventually i’ll feel that same sadness i did for the original, but for now i hope there’s a full version with this mix. because i would love to dance around my room to this song

[tearsofperseides]

Taylor Swift songs that are Ronance in some way or another

this is a self-indulgent post

Gorgeous, obviously, do I need to say more? Because I will: This song is "told" through Nancy's perspective and I think it demonstrates the frustration that Nancy had with Robin at the beginning perfectly. Also these parts that I don't see people talk about: And you should think about the consequence // Of you touching my hand in the darkened room ...DO I NEED TO REMIND EVERYONE OF THE HANDHOLD?! Along with many other lines in the song that aligned with Ronance, such as the boyfriend line and the ocean blue eyes line

Next is Style, admittedly, this is really just a personal thing, I like to headcanon that one of Robin's favourite movies is Rebel Without a Cause and that she relates to Jim Stark (played by James Dean) and just... the overall vibe of the song, I imagine them just cruising in Steve or Nancy's car, blasting this at full volume.

Labyrinth, yet another Nancy Wheeler POV song... idk what to tell you, she's just very Swiftie core/j This song reminds me of when Vecna is defeated and Nancy is navigating her sexuality, the line You know how scared I am of elevators // Never trust it if it rises fast // It can't last just makes me think of Nancy trying to stop having a crush on Robin because her previous relationship never lasted, if you get what I mean? Another line that speaks Nancy on an astronomical level is You know how much I hate that everybody just expects me to bounce back // Just like that.

A Robin POV song at last!!! Gold Rush, Robin is an evermore girlie, this isn't projection... totally not. This song is more based on s3, than s4. She just envies Nancy, like I have a feeling, she wants to be like her in a way that she's accepted; What must it be like // To grow up that beautiful? // With your hair falling into place like dominos Nancy, in her eyes, at this time, is the epitome of a perfect girl and perfect girls are accepted by people. The ending of the song is just Robin realizing that she could never be with Nancy, because of their circumstances.

Back to Nancy now... The Great War, of course let me start with the line My hand was the one you reached for // All throughout the Great War going back to the handhold once again, because it is precious to me. A lot of the lyrics can be applied to Ronance scenes with this one. Like And maybe it's the past that's talkin' // … // Tellin' me to punish you for things you never did The library scene, Nancy being jealous of Robin because she thought she was dating Steve. Broken and blue, so I called off the troops // That was the night I nearly lost you The scene where Robin first got caught by the vines. I vowed I would always be yours // 'Cause we survived the Great War This goes back to the whole s5 theory of how Nancy will be made to choose between Robin/Steve/Jonathan and she will choose Robin, because she didn't choose Barb and it will be all symbolism and shit lmaoo.

AND THE LAST ONE, THE FINALE, THE CHERRY ON TOP

Ivy, the Emisue anthem, if you will. I can write an essay on this one... every line fits with Nancy so well.

Oh, goddamn // My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand - Nancy finally has someone to confide in, someone who she feels will understand her on such a deep level, not just because of her trauma, but because she's the first girl after Barb she's been friends with. Robin listens to her problems, doesn't try to solve them, she's there for her when she needs to vent. Taking mine, but it's been promised to another Nancy is still in a relationship with Jonathan, her "hand has been promised to another". Oh, I can't // Stop you putting roots in my dreamland // My house of stone, your ivy grows // And now I'm covered in you She's tried to push Robin away, but Robin doesn't budge, she's not leaving her no matter how much Nancy is trying to push her away. Nancy's trying to not get attached to Robin, but Robin just by being herself has planted herself into Nancy's heart and is taking up the space in Nancy's mind and that only grows and grows. I wish to know // The fatal flaw that makes you long to be // Magnificently cursed I take this line in the context of Ronance 2 ways. 1. Nancy doesn't understand how Robin can be so cursed with herself as to want to be friends with her, "magnificently" specifically because Nancy is still thankful for her. 2. The way Robin's actually ok with being a lesbian in the 80's, of course, she's not out, but she still knows she only likes girls and isn't trying to change that (unlike Nancy). Crescent moon, coast is clear // Spring breaks loose, but so does fear both the crescent moon and spring have been used in a lot of literary works as a symbol for a new beginning with Robin, Nancy sees a new beginning, she sees it very clearly, but she's scared, of her sexuality, of what the people will think, of hurting Jonathan, of ruining this new found beginning etc. So yeah, it's a fire // It's a goddamn blaze in the dark // And you started it // You started it // So yeah, it's a war // It's the goddamn fight of my life // And you started it // You started it Nancy is at war with herself, she has feelings for Robin, but she thinks she's not supposed to (internalised homophobia), she's at war with herself because she doesn't know what happens next, because of Robin.

Thank you for letting me ramble about this, it was really fun!!!

Also, I have a Nancy Wheeler and a Robin Buckley playlist on my Spotify, if you want give them a listen!!

[chocolateheart]

Door number 12

Title: Door Number 12

Word count: 7937 (I know, I'm sorry)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: A noisy neighbour is bringing you a lot of emotions. What if this bubbling tension and frustration will finally find their way out?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (please, wrap it before you tap it), creampie, fingering, handjob, pinning to the wall, clothes tearing, biting, scratching, a lot of kissing, strong eye contact, sex noises, tension, some swearing, noisy neighbour, arguing, stealing food, property damage, I don't know, porn?

Bingo Square Filled: Neighbour AU for @spnmixedbingo

A/N: Yes, another porn. Please, don't judge me, I couldn't help it. I won't say much, that fic just sorta happened. I hope you'll like it! Enjoy babes!

A/N: As always huge huge huge THANK YOU to my dear beta, angel and Queen @winchest09 for giving this piece a look. Love you Tabbs <3 Still, mistakes are mine!

A/N: The gorgeous divider designed by incredibly talented @talesmaniac89 <3

Throwing your bag on the counter along with your keys, a deep sigh left your chest. You numbly looked around your apartment as you began to take off your jewellery. Why did this place always look like a pigsty every time you got back home? Your necklace and bracelet joined your bag when you tossed them to one side as a yawn escaped you.

This day was exhausting, to say the least. Maybe your work wasn’t that demanding but sometimes it was just tiring to the point where you wanted to cry. After shrugging your jean jacket off, your feet took you to the couch and you just collapsed down on it with a pained grunt. Your body was stiff and aching, your head was pounding from pain and as soon as you felt a pillow under it, your will to stay awake had started to fade. You knew you shouldn’t take a nap now as there was still so much left to do today, but for god's sake, it was Friday evening and you had been working for the past 5 days at top speed. An hour of rest was something you definitely deserved.

Without standing up, you lifted your hips to take off your jeans and wrapped yourself in the blanket you always kept on the couch. Relaxing your body with a deep breath, you closed your eyes, already halfway to dreamland. But as soon as you felt yourself drifting completely, a loud sound of guitar suddenly sounded in your ears, making your eyes snap open.

No, not again!

Fisting the pillow, you felt the anger growing as you knew exactly where the loud rock music was coming from; recognising the band as AC/DC. When the volume increased, you hid your head underneath the pillow, desperate to cut off your aching skull from the noise. But it didn’t work, the sound still bleeding through the cushion. It didn’t take you a minute to shoot up on straight legs and pull on your sweats while marching towards the front door.

Mumbling inappropriate words, you entered the staircase for your building and immediately went down; hearing the power of the music increasing with every step you took. You found yourself on a floor below, with your jaw and hands clenched, eyes glued to door number 12 as you approached it. Once you stood in front of it, you lifted one of your fists and hit the hard on the wood a few times, ready to murder the person on the other side. Of course he made you wait till the song ended, causing you to repeat the punching a couple of times.

When the door finally opened, you were fuming with anger, eyes shooting lightnings towards the tall man on the opposite side of the doorstep.

"I swear to god, Winchester," you hissed through gritted teeth, a loud melody almost muffling your words. "If you won't turn that down, I will physically harm you." Your threatening pulled a laugh from him which only acted as another oil drop to the fire.

"Sweetheart you can't do anything to me," he said, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed on this broad chest. "Besides, I don't understand what your problem is." Dean shrugged as if nothing had happened, making your brows shoot up.

"You don't understand?! This music is driving me crazy!" You took a deep breath and while not breaking the strong eye contact you had with him, you started to enlighten him on what exactly was wrong. "I’ve had a terrible day, no, week actually. Everything hurts, my head is pounding and this music is shaking my walls which in turn, is not letting me sleep. So if you could be so nice and turn that off because I swear on what's holy, if I lose my goddamn mind, your name will be the first one I'm gonna mention once they ask me how I ended up in mental hospital." Words just slipped out of you in one unbreakable line and you took shuddering breath after, composing yourself.

However, the smug smirk didn’t leave your neighbour's face; he didn’t give a damn about your monologue. After you finished, he only put a hand on your shoulder and delivered his response.

"It's a Friday evening and we live in a free country. There’s no rule saying I can't listen to loud music, unless it's lights out. What's more, you're the only one who can't stand this, I don't see anyone else coming here to complain, so maybe the problem lies in you, not in me," he simply said, as he flashed you a fake, sarcastic smile and closed the door. But not before saying, "have a nice evening."

You looked up to the ceiling, asking for patience but the frustration and anger were huge. You growled, kicked Winchester's door with your socked foot and cursed, feeling pain going from your toes to the tibial bone.

On your way back to your apartment, you were mumbling out every possible, offensive name that came to your mind when you thought about that green eyed man. Your relationship had been heated ever since he moved into the building. He made your blood boil. Loud music, meetings with his friends, watching movies on full volume on his surround speakers after dark in the middle of the week, noisily cooking at midnight; even his one night stands apparently had an unfulfilled opera career.

You were having a battle with Dean, on average, twice a week. Knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t stand his behavior, you asked others for help, but Dean’s charm was way bigger of an opponent than you had expected. He could just use a sweet smile, say a few, flirty words with this deep voice and Ann from the end of the hall would walk on wobbly legs with stupid smile on her face for the next four days.

You couldn’t really blame her, the man was ridiculously attractive but you were looking past it. Dean was an annoying asshole and the only reason you had not yet clawed out his eyes was the fact that visiting the jail wasn’t exactly a wooing thought.

Shutting your door behind you, you leaned against it and ‘Sweet Child O’ mine’ came on. You growled once again, hit your wooden barricade with your head and looked down, trying to find calmness in your floor. Once you stopped radiating fury, knowing that the person below won't let you rest for at least two more hours, you chose the second drawer in your kitchen, searching for painkillers. If you were being made to stay up, you were gonna be productive. Swallowing two aspirin, you decided to clean the place so you could focus on college work tomorrow.

If only you could actually focus on college work.

After waking up at 8 am the next day, you opened the window on your way to the kitchen, craving coffee. It wasn’t normal for you to get up at this hour on the weekend but your finals were coming and you had way more work than you expected.

Thankfully, the weather outside was pleasant; the sun was already shining, creating morning shadows and the soft wind streamed inside your apartment, tickling your ankles as you sat at the table, eating breakfast. The smell of spring made you smile, always bringing back good memories. After the meal, you didn’t bother to change your pajamas for the actual clothes and you just took the laptop to start working on your college sheets. You were sitting with one of your legs bent, heel leaning on the chair, messy bun on your head, sipping on the second coffee while listening to the birds singing happily outside. Words were flooding out of you, making you feel certain that it wouldn’t take you long to be done with your essays. But that blissful moment was cut short when a loud rumble of a car’s engine resonated under your building, causing you to jerk in your chair and almost spill your drink.

Recognizing it straight away, you looked up, trying your best to not get angry again but as the sound of his loud engine revving l continued, you smacked the table with your palm and stood up. As you leaned on your window sill and gazed out, you spotted black, slick Chevrolet with the driver's door, trunk and hood open. Tools were scattered around the vehicle, a jean clothed leg was sticking out from the inside and you greeted your teeth, knowing who that was.

“Hey!” you yelled out, not caring if probably half of the residents could hear you. “I’m trying to study here!”

Dean peeked out and up at you, smiled and got out of the car, leaning his elbow on the hood in a nonchalant way.

“Good morning to you too,” he said and flashed you the oh-so-charming smile.

“It would be good if you didn’t interrupt it with your loud junker,” you spat back, leaning on the window frame and smiled when his face fell; he hated it when someone insulted his Baby, and you were very much aware of that. “Now, could you please lower your generic volume because I have a lot to do and you’re the last thing I want to deal with today.”

“Nobody tells you to. I’m minding my business, you go mind yours, I ain’t stopping you.” He gestured towards you with his grease covered hand.

“No, but your car is making noise that shakes all the dishes in my cabinet.”

He just shrugged and you narrowed your eyes, seeing that he didn’t care about whatever your problem was. “Then I suggest closing the window.”

After saying that, he dived inside the vehicle and seconds later you heard the strong twang of a guitar. Again. This man was very successful in making you hate rock music. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, stopping yourself from throwing a flowerpot at him; only because it was a very nice pot and you were emotionally attached to it.

“I need fresh air! I’m not gonna close the window! Turn that off!” you screamed, but he only frowned and pointed to his ear.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t hear you!” You could see the smile dancing on his lips and you really wanted to break something on his head. “The music is too loud!”

Clenching your jaw you gave up. Another defeat, but it wasn’t the war you lost; it was just a battle and he was yet to feel your comeback. Showing him your middle finger, you closed the window and went to the bathroom, not being able to hear the soft chuckle that left him.

Maybe to an outsider, Dean’s behavior wasn’t such a big deal, but the longer he acted like that, the more annoying and tiring it was becoming. You couldn’t focus on basic activities because he was giving you a headache in various ways and for some reason, you couldn’t just talk it through with him. Every attempt at trying to get to an understanding with him, ended up with a fight.

Winchester was just a pain in the ass.

Thankfully, he vanished before noon; his car was gone and there was a blissful silence that you made the most of, and finished the majority of what you had to do.

Surrounded by papers and books, you were sitting down on your fluffy carpet, leaning back on your couch, typing away on your laptop. Glancing at your clock again, you frowned. It’s been almost 85 minutes since you ordered pizza; your stomach was rumbling, unhappy with the fact of still being empty. Finding your phone, you dialed the pizza parlor’s number once again. Standing up, you stretched your muscles and looked outside, watching the sunset sky as you waited for someone to pick up. Finally, the lady’s voice spoke to you down the line, asking you how she could help.

“Hi, I made an order from you and I still haven’t received it? It’s been over an hour,” you explained politely, scratching the back of your head.

You didn’t like situations like that; delay was understandable, but it had been way too long. However, you hated to call someone out, you never wanted to make someone’s job harder than it already was. Giving your address to the lady so she could check where your food was, you spotted the black vehicle under the building and your brows shot up. He was home and it was still quiet; it wasn’t normal.

“Miss, the system says your order was delivered and we have a confirmation of receipt.” You frowned hearing her words as what she said was impossible.

“Are you sure? There was no delivery here.”

“Yes, I’m positive. It says someone picked up the order twenty minutes ago.” Pinching your nose, you took a deep breath.

“Could you check the address precisely, please? Maybe your driver made a mistake?” you suggested being already sure someone else got your food.

“Rosenhouse Street, building 4, apartment 12,” she read and the last number made you flinch.

“Apartment 20,” you corrected her, but she denied.

“No Miss, the order was picked up by apartment 12.” And just like that the level of your anger reached three digits in a second.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you murmured and disconnected the call without a goodbye, already storming halfway across your place, getting ready to leave.

Slamming the door, you took a very well known path downstairs and you banged on number 12 as soon as you stood in front of it. Feeling the urge to punch the person who was supposed to open, you inhaled deeply, clenching your teeth. Just... keep it cool, Y/N.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” you growled the second Dean came into your view in his domestic clothes, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

“Whoa, what?” he tilted his head with an uncomprehending look.

“Listen,” you pointed a finger at him. “Loud noises, annoying car, your mean behavior, fine, okay. Screw it. But stealing food? That is childish. Can you go any lower?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he said with a smile dancing on his lips. “What food?”

“My pizza,” you muttered through your teeth.

“Oh, right!” He smacked his forehead, acting like he just now understood. “Yeah, pizza was great.”

“You stole it!” you exclaimed, a little too high pitched.

“No I didn’t,” Dean stated, giving you a small, I-know-better smile.

“Yes, you did. I ordered it and you just pocketed it!” You really wanted to stamp your foot like a little girl to tick your fury.

"No sweetheart, I didn’t," he said, crossing his arms and straightening his back so he could tower over you, making you look up. "The guy came in with pizza, said he's supposed to bring it here, so I paid for it and ate it."

"Oh! Because it's normal to pay for the food you didn’t order and keep it to yourself. And stop calling me sweetheart!" You puffed out irritated, making him smirk.

"You're cute when you're angry." Your face fell and you felt your palm itching. What would he do if you slapped him?

"Dean," you warned him but he chuckled.

"No, seriously." He reached to your forehead, wanting to brush it with his finger. "You have this cute, little wrinkle in the middle-"

"Don't touch me." You smacked his hand away and pointed a warning finger straight into his face. "One more action like this and you're gonna regret it," you growled out and walked away.

"So it's threatening now, huh?!" he called after you, coming out to stand in the hall.

Before you stepped on the stairs, you turned around with such a force, that your hair flipped over one of your shoulders and you showed him your middle finger. Hearing his low laugh bouncing on the wall, you scoffed annoyed as you stomped loudly going back upstairs. You swore that if you were supposed to become a murderer one day, that this man was gonna be victim number one. This whole 'lets annoy her' process would be great fuel for you to slice that slender throat of his.

Shutting the door again, you walked into the kitchen, dived in the fridge and decided to stuff yourself with pancakes. Screw Dean and his pizza, you were not going to give him satisfaction with ordering anything else tonight.

“So, he’s a confident man,” Jo stated after you told her about Winchester’s behavior.

You came to Harvelle's to grab something for Sunday dinner; they had the most delicious menu in the whole town and no one could change your mind. You were sitting with a blonde girl at the table, outside their restaurant, sipping on some light drinks Ellen had prepared for the two of you. Ash was already working on your meal in the kitchen while Jo was taking her break so she could sit with you and listen about your neighbour under the floor. It took you way longer to describe everything and you felt kind of bad for that. You weren’t the type who whined about such things and forced friends to hear about your bullshit, but now you were desperate to get it all off your chest.

“Confident asshole,” you corrected her, “I just wish he could finally get his ass kicked, you know? I can’t live with this man! He’s an arrogant, offensive, little, annoying dickhead!” you said, crossing your arms on your chest.

After a few seconds of silence, you looked up at Jo. She was watching you, clearly trying not to smile; her lips were twitching and small dimples had already appeared. You knew her long enough to know that she was all ready to tease you about this whole situation.

“What?” you barked at her and she lifted her hands in defense.

“Nothing!” She shrugged. “Just, your relationship with him seems to have been… rough since the very beginning.”

“It is! I really wanna punch him!” Jo lifted her brows, a smile breaking on her face.

“Just punch him?” The suggestion was shining in her eyes and your shoulders fell down at the subtext.

“Jo!” she started giggling when she heard your resigned tone. “Just because I’m having a heated exchange with a hot guy doesn’t mean that I wanna fuck him!”

“Oh, so you think he’s hot?” she asked innocently, taking a sip from her glass.

“Yes, but he’s an idiot and I would never let him in my panties, come on,” you scoffed as you rolled your eyes. The last thing you would ever do was having sex with this man.

“Sure.”

And you knew Jo didn’t believe you. To be honest, if you thought about it really, really hard, you weren’t sure if you believed yourself…

The door opened and Ash came out with a smile, your food packed in a thermal box.

“There you go, girl. We do not accept any complaints,” he said, winking at you and you chuckled, taking the meal from him.

“Thanks, Ash.” He saluted you and vanished as quickly as he appeared. You glanced at your phone laying on the table and sighed seeing the time. “Okay babe, I’m gonna go. School’s calling and I bothered you enough anyway.”

“Oh stop it, you’re not bothering me, don’t be stupid,” she said smiling, and hugged you tight. “Text me when you get home.”

“Sure thing.” You winked and walked backwards, watching her disappear inside the RoadHouse.

Smiling to yourself, you turned around and crossed the street. At first your thoughts were filled with Jo who could always put you in a good mood but then they gradually transitioned into someone else.

You didn’t know if it was your overworked system or what Jo had teased you about that caused Dean to stick inside your mind, but you wanted to scream; it was like he had nested in there. Not only was he disturbing your living space, but he was now invading your mental space as well. What’s more, it wasn’t exactly hard to not think about him in a nasty way, and you hated it. The truth was that he was attractive from his fluffy hair to his toes, and more than once you had caught yourself daydreaming about his hands and mouth on you.

You couldn’t help it. The way he looked was not fair and Jo made you realise that if not for his attitude, you would have slept with him a long time ago. Thankfully, in the moments you felt weakness for him, he was doing something that pissed you off to the point where you wanted to bite his head off.

You really wanted to get even with him, you had to bounce the ball. The need to bite back was so big that you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the paint store. The bulb in your head flickered on and a devil smile angled your lips. Maybe it was a bad idea, maybe it was childish, maybe it was crossing the line, but you had suffered enough thanks to this jerk.

Buying one can of pink chalk paint, you were muting your common sense that was currently shouting at you. As the saying goes - you only live once. He wanted a fight? You were going to fight. He started to play a strong hand? You were going to do the same. He thought playing with you like that was fun? Well, you were gonna have some fun too. Besides, he wouldn’t realise immediately that the paint would easily wash off, but seeing him panic thinking that his car had been defaced was revenge enough.

With a few last strokes of a paintbrush, you were finished. Straightening your back, you looked down at your work and smiled, satisfied with pink flowers you had drawn on the black surface. They were a nice contrast and you really liked the shape. In all honesty, it kinda burned you to paint this four wheeled beauty, but it wasn’t your fault her owner was a douchebag who deserved a lesson.

The impala was parked in her usual spot, next to the building that was mostly asleep. There were no cameras and due to the late hour, the chance of someone spotting you was small. Besides, you were just a hooded figure, no one would recognise you anyway even with the dim light from a lonely lantern. It was risky, but you were too far gone in your revenge to care. It had been done and you wished you could see Dean’s face in the morning.

Gathering your things you looked around, checking to see if there was anyone you should avoid and you got back to your apartment. After closing the door, you took off your clothes, staying only in leggings and a t-shirt, and decided to make some tea. You had this weird energy bubbling inside of you and it would be a waste to not use it on college papers. Getting comfortable on your couch you started going through materials for one of your projects.

Not expecting any visitors, you jumped slightly while hearing a rapid knocking on your door an hour later. You frowned and stood up, finishing your tea on your way to the entry. What you saw on the other side almost made you smile like an idiot. Dean was boring into you with his eyes; if looks could kill, you would surely be a beautiful corpse by now. His chest was rising and falling heavily, jaw clenched to the point his cheek was twitching and you could see the slight blush coloring on his face. He was wearing his leather jacket but was also in sweats so you assumed he was about to make a quick grocery run or something.

“What the hell?!” he growled at you before you could say a word. Ohhh, he was angry.

“What?” You shrugged innocently, ignoring the weird chill that ran down your spine after hearing the vibrations of his tone.

Dean took a deep breath, doing his best to not shout out. “I wanted to go get some beer and burgers, but guess what. Someone screwed up my car. And you know what? I think it was you.”

He pointed a finger at you, holding keys in his hand. You laughed and leaned on your doorframe, ready to confront him. Satisfaction already tickled your insides, but there was one thing that you had to admit - he was hot when he was angry.

“You really think that I have nothing better to do than mess up your car?” you asked, amused by his flaring nostrils.

"Don't you fucking dare play with me like that," he said firmly, not wanting to yell. "Do you know it's property damage? You broke a law and I can easily get you in trouble."

He was fuming with anger and you were sure that if it was possible, there would be smoke coming out of his ears. You smiled and stood your ground, finding it adorable how he thought he had anything useful against you.

"You have nothing on me. No proof that I was the one who defaced your car," you started, taking two steps to stand inches away from him. "Call the cops and I'm gonna tell them all about the nuisance, the stealing, manipulation and manifestations of aggression all coming from you.”

You stared straight into his eyes, a smart smile not leaving you even for a second; feeling confident in your words. Maybe he had a point, but you weren’t empty handed. You could get punished for what you did and so could he.

“What is your problem, Y/N?!” he asked, pinching his nose, clearly irritated with you. “You keep whining, making problems out of nothing and now painting my damn car?”

“You’re not letting me live in peace!” you raised your voice. “Your loud music, loud car, loud tv, loud you in general! I can’t sleep, I can’t study, I can’t do anything because you’re always there to disturb me!”

“Then leave!” he suggested, raising his tone as well. You were taken aback; lifting your brows you blinked a few times. Was he joking?

“Leave?! Are you kidding me now?! This is my home and just a friendly reminder, I was in here first so maybe you should back off!”

“But you’re the only one having a problem with me!” he yelled, spreading his arms, highlighting the obviousness of his argument.

“Because you’re a manipulative ass! You use your charm, this fucking smile, your shining eyes, and nice language, and the whole building is yours! Even Ian from the 4th floor and he doesn't even like people!”

“Ian is a cool guy!”

“Good!”

You took a breath and opened your mouth to say something more but no words came out. Again, you were convinced that there was no way to come to an agreement with this guy. Further arguments were pointless. Looking at him you shook your head and brushed your hair to the back. The soft smile and look you gave him next, made him frown a little.

“You know what? Fuck you,” you said simply and went to close the door, but his retort didn’t let you.

“You wish.”

Freezing, you locked your eyes with his and in a split second, something shifted in the air. The atmosphere got thick and the tension you had been building for months, now came into play, kinda taking you both by surprise. Dean felt it too, you could see his expression changing. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was buzzing between you. A part of you wanted to explain it, to show him that you already knew it was sexual tension saying ‘hi’, but as soon as you realised that, you swallowed and forced your rational mask back on.

Shaking off the urge to take steps towards him, you scoffed and sending him one last look, you shut the door without saying anything. Taking two deep breaths, you leaned your forehead on the wooden barricade and closed your eyes.

There was no way in hell you would give in and break. He had everyone else in his fist, but not you. The only person that didn’t fall under his spell, the only one that didn’t let your craving inside take better of you. Dean was still your enemy and a pain in the ass; it was a matter of honour and dignity to stay away.

However, soft knocking made your eyes snap open. No. Darting your head from the door you looked at it, knowing who was behind it but that didn’t even register when you pulled on the door-handle. Dean was supporting his body on his arms that he had placed on both sides of your door, blocking the way. He was looking at you intensely, his breathing quicker than moments ago.

You could see the exact second he made a decision. You knew he was going to do something he shouldn’t and yet, you let him close the gap between you and crush his mouth to yours, cupping your cheeks at the same time. The force he hit you with made you take steps backwards, encouraging him to come in and turn you around so you could unconsciously close the door. His grip was firm, long fingers digging in your neck as hot lips forced yours apart. But your stubbornness caused you to push him away, breaking the connection.

The look you exchanged was a mix of emotions; hate, passion, frustration, lust, confusion, hesitation. This was something completely new for you; needing him was unfamiliar, strange, but at the same time stronger than anything you had felt before when it came to Dean. There was this quiet voice telling you that it was already too late; you tasted it and you wanted it, obviously. The other voice was louder, trying to make you aware of how messed up it's gonna be after, but somehow you didn’t want to listen. Not this time.

"Fuck it."

Saying that, you approached Dean and gripping him by the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a kiss. It was sloppy and deep, all teeth and tongues. He inhaled through his nose, bending down when your nails clawed at his skin. Grabbing you by the waist, he used a little pressure so you walked backwards. You didn’t expect to be pushed against the wall and a surprised gasp escaped you when your back hit it. Looking up at Dean, you noticed how his hungry eyes flickered over your figure and a cocky smirk formed on his face. You mirrored his expression and lifted your chin, so you could suck in his lower lip, biting on it softly. His response was immediate and fierce; he pressed his body to yours, pinning you to the wall completely, kissing you even deeper than before. The heat flooded you, making your cheeks burn and a sweat break.

You moaned and that seemed to spur him on because his hands started travelling all over your body. Doing the same, you aimed for his jacket, pushing it off his broad shoulders so it could land on the floor. The thought of finally discovering what was under his clothes took over your brain and you started to pull on his t-shirt, hazed and eager. But Dean grabbed your wrist and pinned it next to your head, not letting you undress him. You twisted and tugged, trying to break free, but he slid his fingers between yours and you instinctively clenched your palm.

“Don’t fight,” he breathed out, leaving your lips as he dropped to your neck, letting you take a much needed breath.

Leaning your head back you gave him the access to your throat where he licked and sucked, french-kissing your flesh. Your knees buckled a little when his hot lips closed on your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine as his stubble prickled you. Feeling his second hand sneaking under your shirt, you held your breath and jerked on the skin to skin contact. He wasn’t delicate; his long fingers were squeezing and digging, a firm touch making it all the more intense. Using your free hand you fisted his hair, pulling on it. Dean purred, nibbling on your flesh, making your eyes roll. It was like playing tennis, back and forth; you had an answer to each other's movements.

The hunger inside you was growing fast; you were getting more and more impatient and being caged by Dean only made you feel limited. So, naturally, you rebelled, trying to take control; with Dean it was always a competition. But your attempt only caused him to press his body more, his knee coming between your legs, making it harder for you to move. The thin material of your leggings was a weak protection to his touch and you whined when your sensitive area met his thigh. Fidgeting even more, you made him chuckle.

“Stop fighting,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your earlobe between his teeth.

Growling, you turned your head and sunk your teeth into his neck, tasting sweet and salty. Dean hissed and backed away, looking down at you with a surprise in his eyes, brows slightly furrowed. You smiled and angled yourself to speak against his lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t like a fight, Winchester.”

The suggestion was clear and he seemed to understand. Your relationship was already a ticking bomb so why not have a little fun?

The challenging look you gave him was a last jolt and his mode switched. Before you could do anything, he kissed you firmly, letting go of you just to grab on the front of your shirt. Pulling with two hands Dean ripped the fabric in half, revealing your torso, making you smile a devil’s smile. He shook his head in disbelief that you were actually going along with it and grinning, he attacked your jaw. Scraping it with his teeth first, then kissing and going down passed your neck, to your collarbone. Bending his knees so he could reach lower and lower, he proceeded to shrug the destroyed clothing off you and focus on your breasts. Placing sloppy kisses on the curves, Dean moved his hands on your back and unclasped your bra. As soon as it was gone, he sucked in one of your nipples, causing you to arch your chest. Pulling his hair, you grabbed the back of his head, letting him know you enjoyed his work.

Every time his lips touched you, they left burning spots and you could feel yourself getting wetter. Not holding back anymore, you started to roll your hips, seeking the friction his leg could give you. Still playing with your boobs, he caught your hips and added the power to your moves, dragging a moan from you. Glancing down, you spotted the bulge in his sweatpants and realised he was still wearing too much clothes.

“Take that fucking shirt off,” you panted out, grabbing on the piece of clothing on his back.

This time he allowed you to do what you needed, lifting his arms to make your task easier and the second his chest was bare, you used your nails to leave red lines, making him grimace from pain before he kissed you. Caressing his newly exposed body, you felt firm muscles of his strong arms flexing. He wasn’t a gym type of guy, he was soft in some places but firm and strong in general, and that turned you on to the point your stomach flipped.

Suddenly, he pushed on your hips until your butt touched the wall behind you and pulled away from you, straightening himself. You looked at each other, panting and flinching in anticipation. Keeping the eye contact, Dean cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips and slowly slid his hands down your body. You swallowed hard when he hooked his fingers behind your waistband and pulled your leggings down, crouching in front of you.

With a thumping heart you looked down at him, meeting his dark eyes watching you as he kissed your knee, your thigh, your inner thigh; his hands travelling up your legs, leaving goosebumps. You shivered when his hot breath hit your still clothed core. He placed a kiss on your damp panties, making your pussy clench and stopped. Leaning his forehead on your lower stomach, he tried to remain self-control, breathing strongly to calm himself down... and he failed. This whole situation was too much and he had wanted it for way too long to stop now.

Shooting up, he claimed your lips, driving his fingers inside your briefs at the same time. His digits went through your folds, gathering slick and found your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

“Yeah? Right here?” he whispered and you sucked the air in through your mouth when he drew a circle, pressing harshly on your little nub.

Feeling him smiling, you clung to his neck, keeping him close when he started to make circles on your button. Moaning laughs escaped you, mixed with short breaths as you felt fire filling your veins, tickling sparks running from your clit to every nook of your system. For a moment you lost yourself in the feeling, but your brain woke up when he nudged you, rubbing his dick on your leg.

Opening your eyes, you locked them with his, tracing your palm down his chest and stomach. Somehow, you managed to turn you both around so he was by the wall. You didn’t care about teasing him through his pants so you pushed your hand inside and grabbed his hard shaft. Dean jerked and choked on his breath; the whole foreplay made him ridiculously sensitive.

You smiled satisfied and began to pump him, making his head fall back on the wall. His exposed neck was shining with sweat, throat moving as he swallowed hard. Your biting kink was begging for you to bite him, but the view was too good to not watch. His breathing quickened along with your strokes, his jaw flexing when he opened his mouth to chug. A thick vein popped out on the side of his neck, a guttural whine coming from him when you rubbed your thumb on his tip. Finally, you gave in and closed your lips on his jaw, light stubble pricking your lips. Dean turned his head and palming yours he brought you in for a kiss but you broke it fast, having enough.

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom.

Not being able to stay away from each other, you stumbled towards the room, kissing and laughing, getting rid of the rest of the clothes on your way. Hitting the bed you let yourself fall on it, pulling Dean behind you. He hovered above you, using his tongue to play with your nipples as you both climbed up to the headboard. Adjusting the pillows beneath you, you felt his body pressing down, arms sneaking under yours as he kissed you deeply. Rolling his hips, he drove his cock between your folds, poking your clit and you automatically lifted your lower body up on your heels, feeling the electricity running through you. Dean bit down on your lip and pulled on it hard with his teeth, smiling when you hissed.

Without thinking much you just reached between your bodies and guided his cock to your entrance, making him freeze. The look he gave you was a mashup of a question and disbelief, and all it took was your evil smirk. You felt him fisting the sheets under you and with one, mild thrust he slid inside of you. Arching your back you inhaled, digging your fingers into his shoulders. He was stretching you; your walls fluttered around him when he bottomed out, making the two of you give silent moans, your voices stuck in your throats from intensity.

Watching you, he began to move, making you both more and more comfortable with the feeling. Gradually, his pace increased and so did the noises. Your breathy moans and growls filled the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin as Dean's hips waved between your thighs, faster and faster. New layers of sweat covered your bodies as the temperature increased; you felt the omnipresent, pleasurable burning.

Dean kept the rhythm, only stopping for just for a moment to kiss you. Not letting the opportunity pass, you pushed on him and flipped over so you were on top. Looking at you with a smirk, he palmed your asscheeks as you sinked down on him, continuing the activity.

The passion and sensuality made your head spin; Dean’s lustful eyes devouring you alive weren’t helping. You dragged your nails on his flesh again, making him hiss between the sounds. It wasn’t easy to breathe, to think or control yourself; your body started working by itself, speeding up, making you bounce on him while leaning your hands on his chest for support. Dean couldn’t decide where to touch, what part of you he should grab next; his hands were everywhere. Wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck he sat up, changing the angle and gave you this eye-rolling kiss. This asshole knew what he was doing.

A new position allowed you to only roll your hips and you laid back, grabbing Dean’s ankle to make your moves more fluent. He took a handful of your ass, helping you, watching himself sliding in and out of you, growling in pleasure. Tangled together you moved in sync, matching the other’s moves, grinding to empower the sensation. Feeling the coil tightening in your stomach, your head hung back and you exhaled, wailing quietly. A hand flattened on your back and Dean violently pulled you up, pressing your forehead to his. With closed eyes, panting against each other's mouth you chased both of your deliriums. Your pussy fluttered, your nails dug into his neck as you clasped it; the feeling started to overwhelm. The way Dean was moaning and clinging to you made it clear that he felt the same.

Your strength was fading and you found yourself slowing down. Dean’s attempts to continue were in vain as he was becoming weak too, exhaustion and his upcoming release taking over him.

“Y/N,” he warned you and you opened your eyes, looking at him when he reached between you. “I’m gonna-” you kissed him, cutting him off, tugging on his lip with your teeth.

“Stay inside,” you whispered, watching the surprise flash through his features.

The serious, assuring look on your face made his eyes roll back and the noise he made, clamped your stomach. Using your last strands of your power, you sped up, Dean joining you by hitting the right spot inside you. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing on it fast and you moaned loudly, feeling your muscles tightening.

A few more strokes, a few more moves and the crushing wave of pleasure hit you; your inner walls pulsated, squeezing Dean’s cock as you grabbed firmly on his neck, holding on for dear life. His thrusts went more erratic but also were more powerful; he was pounding inside you slow but hard, putting his forehead between your breasts. You were shaking and his breath fanning over your tummy only added more goosebumps.

Then you felt his arms wrapping around you and he hugged you tight. Pulling you close, Dean thrusted for the last time and with a low, throaty groan he stilled; his cock throbbing inside you, allowing you to milk him as you were still coming. The two of you were shivering, entwined in each other, panting and sweaty. Your heart was hammering and you could feel Dean’s galloping as well.

After calming down a bit, he let go of you and fell back on the bed, hitting the pillows with a sigh. Licking your lips, you looked down at him and smiled, seeing his eyes sparkling with joy and bliss. He laughed, caressing your thighs and then pulled you down for a kiss. It was sweet and soft, without tongue, just lips brushing yours; completely different then those earlier.

Oh, so he could be gentle too.

Cupping his face, you pecked his mouth a few times and then rolled off of him, standing up to make a quick run to your bathroom to clean yourself, leaving the door open.

"Hey!" you heard him yelling not even two minutes later, after you splashed your face with cold water. "Is it weird that I wanna cuddle?!"

You smiled on his words, shaking your head. Asshole also appeared to be a softie cuddler. Can this evening be any weirder?

"Yes!" you yelled back, laughing as you put down the cloth you were using to dry yourself.

"Cool!" he announced and then changed his tone, "I don't care."

Chuckling, you turned the light off on your way out and grabbed a random, oversized t-shirt from your drawer to put it on, letting it slip from one of your shoulders. Dean was making himself comfy in your bed, watching you carefully with his arm under his head and a stupid grin on his face.

"What?" you asked as you climbed on the bed, joining him under the covers.

"Nothing," he shrugged and shifted so you could fit in, resting your head on his chest.

Throwing your arm over his middle, you hugged him as his fingers came to trace the skin on your shoulder. A comfortable silence fell over you as you cuddled, enjoying the warmth, but you knew his mind was running, just like yours.

You didn’t like this tendency of yours to overthink, but the current situation was not only unexpected but also confusing. What now? Lovers? Relationship? Friends with benefits? Enemies with benefits? Because, you had to stay honest, if he did something that would piss you off, no matter how good he was in bed, you would still punch his perfect nose.

"I'm sorry." His words surprised you, detaching you from your thoughts. "For being a noisy neighbour."

You could hear the genuine guilt in his voice and that immediately made you feel like a bitch, so you said the first thing that came to your mind.

"I'm sorry for screwing up your car," you mumbled and quickly regretted it.

"Ha! So it was you!" His victory voice made your eyes roll and you poked his side, annoyed by the fact he dragged a confession from you so easily.

"But if it makes you feel any better, the paint is made of chalk so it’ll easily wash off," you said, unable to help the silly smile that spread across your face when you saw the relieved but shocked expression that he wore.

“Well played,” he chuckled, the sound rumbling under your ear which you found oddly comforting. So you snuggled more, melting into the intimacy.

You had to look the truth straight into the eye; maybe he did infuriate you like no other but there was something else. A pull, an urge to blow off the constant steam forming between you. You wanted him and something was telling you that from now on you won't be knocking on door number 12 just to fuss about loud music.

And once Jo finds out, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :) Feel free to leave some feedback. ASKs and DMs are open, don’t be afraid to message me. Every word from you is gold <3

Tag list is open! :)

If something is not working, you weren’t on the tag list even if you wanted to, you can’t send an ask or you didn’t receive the notification about me tagging you in any of my fics, please contact me in DM’s.

Tag list: @deanwanddamons @jay-and-dean @katehuntington @winchest09 @talesmaniac89 @roonyxx @bunkerconfessions @akshi8278 @snffbeebee @lady-pswrld @rvgrsbrns​ @polina-93 @teresa-67 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @mrspeacem1nusone @flamencodiva @cutiecowgirl @waywardbaby @flashxspn @lyarr24

[therealvalkyrie]

Painter’s Hands and Guatemalan Coffee: Part 6

sketch

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, modern!college!AU

Summary: When you catch your idiot boyfriend cheating, your grumpy roommate is there to pick up the pieces and watch your back as you toe a carefully drawn line in the metaphorical sand.  

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: fluff, romantic vegetable chopping, the chapter of realizing things

AN: Well, it’s been six fucking months, but it’s finally here!! It’s a little shorter than I’d prefer, and took a lot of iterations to get here, but I’m very satisfied:) Thanks, as always, to my lovely @doinmybesthere for editing and encouraging. I hope you all enjoy! I think there’re maybe 1 or 2 parts left in this story, that’ll hopefully be out more quickly than I managed this one. Please let me know what you think! Be kind to yourselves and others. ~valkyrie

—

(read chapter 5 here)

Finals week passes in a slow blur, barely leaving enough time for you to breathe between essays, exams, and one presentation that you think takes at least a year off the end of your life. It’s much the same for everyone else, as well — you barely see Levi, not counting the nights you spend alternating between your bed and his, and you don’t see Hange at all. Consequently, there’s no opportunity to break apart what happened on Saturday. No chance to peel back its layers and find how you really feel. Although, to her credit, Annie doesn’t appear again, so you’re able to shove it into a corner of your mind for the time being.

Saturday brings with it both a new winter storm and an overwhelming sense of relief. You let it fill you completely as you sit and watch snow swirl outside. The street below your kitchen window is bustling with students trying to outrun the storm to get home for vacation. But you have nowhere to be, nothing to do. It’s nice.

The door opens, bringing with it the stomping of Levi’s boots. You turn to watch him shake snow from his hair, sinking deeper into the reassurance of knowing that everything you need is here under your roof. Safe.

Hmm. What the fuck?

You choke on the next sip of your tea as the realization of what you just felt hits you square in the chest. Through your coughing and hacking, you reach again for that fleeting sense of home. Childish, content, warm.

“Are you okay?” Levi calls from the entrance, looking at you with pinched brows halfway through hanging up his jacket.

“Fine,” you cough out, pushing back from the table to hunch over and catch your breath. “I’m okay.”

It takes a moment for you to stop breathing hard, though when you do, your heart rate doesn’t return to normal, instead pushing blood to your face and neck and making your body feel light. Levi doesn’t help when he finally joins you in the kitchen, all floppy hair and bright cheeks from the snow. All leisurely about the way he stretches his lean body to take his favorite blend of Earl Grey from the top of the fridge.

“I was thinking about dinner,” he starts, completely oblivious to the way you’ve started sweating under your cardigan. “We shouldn’t order because of the snow, so I brought home stuff to make soup.”

“What kind?” It’s a miracle the words come out normally.

“Chicken noodle.” He turns to face you. “My mom’s recipe.”

—

“I don’t get why guys are always so uppity about kitchen knives,” you say, picking up what Levi’s told you is a utility knife. “Like, it’s just a knife. I’m not about to stab myself with it.” Your finger drags along its sharp edge for only a split second when Levi’s slim fingers are suddenly around your wrist.

“Don’t. Touch. The knives,” he growls, taking the utility knife gently from your other hand and placing it back on the counter. “I just sharpened them last week, you could’ve seriously cut yourself.”

His steel eyes hold yours for another long moment until you nod your head mutely. You haven’t been able to shake the knot of hyperawareness that’s been settled in your belly since your what the fuck moment, and it only twists tighter when he’s so close to you. His hair is dry now, curling slightly because he hasn’t bothered to comb it since he got home. You have to actively resist the urge to twist a particularly enthusiastic curl around your finger in the split second before he backs away again.

Muttering under his breath, he returns to the simmering pot on the stove that he claims has turned into stock, though you hardly believe it. Growing up, you’d never been taught kitchen skills, let alone anything close to actual labor.

For a while, you’re content to watch, sitting at the table and nursing both the ache in your chest and a fresh cup of chamomile, but the urge to join him in his quiet work overwhelms you as he’s washing the vegetables.

“Levi, please, can I help?” Your tone edges on whining, prompting him to huff and shift on his feet. “I promise I won’t touch the knives! There, just, must be something I can do.”

You see him roll his eyes, swear under his breath, then turn towards you with a glower.

“No talking, no questions, and go wash your hands.”

“Yes!” you cheer and stand up with a bounce.

The scent of the bar of soap as you lather and wash cuts pleasantly through the spices and thick scents already filling the kitchen. It’s not something you’ve experienced often, and you relish in what you realize must be home comfort, your grin settling from enthused to contented.

Levi is arranging carrots, celery, and onions next to the cutting board when you join him again.

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to touch the knives?”

“You’re not, until I show you how to do it without chopping off your fingers.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” you tease, but nevertheless settle in beside him to watch as he lines up a carrot and picks up the utility knife.

“We’re generally going for even pieces, though it doesn’t matter much because it’s a soup. Put your fingers like this,” you lean over a bit to see how he’s arranged his left hand holding the carrot, the tips of his fingers just barely tucked under the knuckles, “so that you can chop like this—“ he begins slicing, knife guided by his knuckles “—and not lose your fingers. Always point the blade away from yourself and others, and never hold the handle like you’re going to stab something. That’s not effective, anyway. If you have to use this as a weapon, it’s much more effective to slash rather than stab, considering bone density—“

“Uhh,” you cut in, “pause. Are we slicing carrots or fending off home invaders?”

He stops chopping. “What did I say about asking questions?”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Anyway. Considering bone density, you’ll have better luck aiming to cut big veins than forcing through ribs.”

He’s done with the first carrot, now, lithe fingers flipping the knife so the blade is up.

“Never drag the blade along the surface sideways. Flip it over and use the blunt edge to move food.” He demonstrates, moving the little pile of carrot slices to a corner of the cutting board. “Your turn.”

And then, like it’s nothing, he’s offering you the handle with a flat expression.

“Uhm.” You press your lips together and eye it for a long pause. “Are you sure?”

“It’s just a carrot. You’ll be fine.” He lets another unsure moment slide into being, then sighs and reaches out to wrap your hand around the handle. “Here, like this.”

And like you’ve suddenly stepped into a poorly-written romcom, he’s guiding your hands under his to the next waiting carrot, curling your fingers exactly like he showed you before, and scooting over to let you stand in his place. You just let yourself go along with it, hoping desperately that he won’t feel your hands grow clammy or see the way your chin has tucked itself shyly to your chest so you can watch.

Fucking shit carrots, useless goddamn root vegetable, can’t chop itself, has to make me do all the work—

Your aggressive inner monologue takes you all the way through the second carrot, then his hands are leaving yours and he’s placing a third under your waiting blade. Time to fly solo.

—

When you fall asleep in the armchair that night, sated and full of comfort food, Levi sketches in pencil on scrap paper. He sketches his hands over yours in the kitchen and he sketches the steam rising from the pot on the stove. He sketches you sitting with a bowl of soup in your lap, face illuminated by the TV and he sketches your sleeping body curled up, hair in your mouth. He sketches a close-up of your face, with special attention to the curve of your bottom lip, and he considers it practice for finishing the painting in his room.

Levi doesn’t think about how if he doesn’t do something soon, all of this will change. About how you’ll get over your heartbreak and move out at the end of the year and he won’t see you every day and every night. And he definitely doesn’t think about how he’ll have to adjust back to sleeping without your soft body tangled in his, and he doesn’t wonder how he ever slept before you.

No, instead of thinking, he just cracks his knuckles and gently scoops you from the chair and into his arms.

It’s as he’s climbing into his side of your bed that you stir and snort and blink sleepy eyes open.

“What time is it?”

“Ten forty,” he whispers, “go back to sleep.”

You hum and turn on your side to face him, face half hidden by the squish of your pillow. He settles more comfortably in, tucks your head under his chin even though you’re taller than he is, and drapes his free arm around the curve of your waist. 

Quiet breathing is the only thing that fills the room for a long while, and he finally thinks you’ve drifted back off, when:

“Hey, Levi?”

“Hmm?”

“I... I’ve been thinking a lot, and...”

The tone of your voice is odd and it makes Levi’s throat seize up for a moment while you hesitate. He swallows deliberately.

“And?”

Your next words are more confident, like you have really been thinking a lot, your voice not sleepy in the slightest. It’s matter-of-fact and soft and lovely. 

“And you make me feel really safe. Just, like, all the time. And I’m glad I met you. You make me feel, um...,” a small sniffle, “You make me feel held.”

Levi tightens his arm around you and swallows again. It feels like he’s balancing on the head of a pin, and a thousand angels are swirling around him, and it’s taking all he has not to get pushed off.

“Well, I am holding you.”

“Psssssht,” you wriggle slightly back so you can look at his face. You look simultaneously exasperated and vulnerable in the shadows of your bedroom. “You know what I mean.”

“What if I don’t?”

“Well, I guess...” 

You pause to think for a moment, eyes flicking away from Levi’s face for a split second. Then, they’re back on his and he can feel the vulnerable honesty already spilling from you. 

“I’ve never really, um, gotten a lot of physical affection? From people in my life? And, uh, it’s not just that, it’s that you’re so... so— so familiar, and not just because I know you, godimnotmakingalickofsense, but because it feels like I’ve always known you?” It’s said like a question, like you want to know if he feels the same. “And you just make me feel held.”

You pause on a shaky inhale of breath, then cover your face with your hands and roll onto your back away from him. 

“God, I’m sorry, that doesn’t make any sense at all, I’ll just—“

“Stop,” Levi cuts you off, pushing up to lean over you and grasp your wrists in one hand and cover your mouth with the other, a mirror of the pair of you in the kitchen weeks earlier. “It makes sense. I get it.”

Your doe eyes stare up at him just like they did then and he selfishly indulges in an extra second of staring back before he releases you and slides back to rest on an elbow. Your hands stay demurely tucked by your chest where he put them and your tongue flicks out to lick at your lips as your eyes follow him. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. I get it.”

“Okay. Good.”

Suddenly, Levi doesn’t feel like going to bed. He feels like running for miles or painting until his hands ache or hitting something, anything to distract him from doing something incredibly stupid right now. The mattress sinks as he sits up and spins his legs out of bed, muttering something about tea and not tired yet, and he almost doesn’t catch the sensation of you sitting up behind him. 

He turns halfway back to tell you to go back to sleep, but your fingers catch his chin and he’s abruptly out of breath.

The curve of your bottom lip is perfectly, exactly the way he sketched it in the semi-dark. It’s slightly chapped.

When you kiss him, soft and certain, he topples off the pinhead and back into his body just in time to do something incredibly stupid and kiss you back.

—

(read part 7 here)

[rivalsforlife]

Phoenix Wright: The Truth Reborn: Oh No We’re Doing This Again

hi.

Nearly two months ago, I wrote an essay summarizing and making very wild conclusions about the second Takarazuka Musical. I did this about two and a half years after watching the first Takarazuka musical. As such I did not have the full context for many things from the musical and was relying mostly on my memory, which blocked many things from this musical for my own safety. However, just this week, I decided to rewatch it, because I enjoy tormenting myself. I said I wouldn’t write anything on it. Here I am writing something on it.

Here’s the youtube thumbnail so that you know what you’re getting yourself into. And here, of course, is the link. This is the HD version which may be slightly more pleasant to watch. Maybe.

It was not quite as cringe in a funny way as the second musical to me, and therefore this essay may be less funny, but I feel like I’m doing a disservice to people by providing a summary of the second musical while completely neglecting the first. Quite possibly doing this is even more of a disservice. I just eagerly await the day that the third musical is translated because *that* will be the day that I finally shuffle off this mortal coil. Either way, I want to write this stuff down so that I never have to watch the musical again out of curiosity.

The following essay will contain major spoilers for both the first and second Phoenix Wright Takarazuka musicals, as I will be using many points from this musical to argue my thesis of the second musical. ... like you were going to watch them anyways. 

This one broke 8k. I’m dead inside.

Introducing The Director

Again another disclaimer that I don’t have anything against the actresses or the theatre troupe. I DO have something against Suzuki Kei, who I recently learned is the writer and director of all three of the Ace Attorney Takarazuka musicals, and is quite possibly my mortal nemesis.

This man is the one who brought this monstrosity into the world.

This man, allegedly, cleared the first four ace attorney games *seven times* before sitting down to write these musicals. He played these goddamn games seven times and did not take in a single word. The man clicked through them mindlessly while watching a badly written legal romance drama in the background and got them completely confused. I genuinely have no idea how this man could have played these games more times than even me and yet managed to get so many characters (MAYA!!!!) completely and utterly wrong. This haunts me every day, truly.

This man played Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney - Justice for All, Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney - Trials and Tribulations, and Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney seven times. SEVEN TIMES EACH!! and was told to create a musical based on the series. He played these games seven times each and you know what he said?? You know what he said?? “This sucks, I’m getting rid of all of Phoenix’s backstory, butchering half the characters, and writing Phoenix/Lana fanfiction, but also rewriting all of Lana’s backstory so that she was Phoenix’s childhood friend, and you know what, I’m changing her name for good measure.”

I think this man played the games seven times each and then hated it so much and was so sick of it he tried to write something that destroyed as much of the series as possible while still being vaguely recognizable. And then somehow it became a massive hit because people like me see this and go “what the actual hell” and watch it, or people who haven’t played the games see this and go “wow what a great musical!” and then he wrote TWO MORE, destroying EVEN MORE every time in his wake, until finally, finally, he stopped after making Edgeworth straight and time traveling into the past to face off against a corrupt Gregory. I guess that was the last straw.

I have to issue a disclaimer here that for legal reasons this is a joke. I don’t actually hate this man and would not punch him in the face if I met him because that would be rude, and he is entitled to his wrong interpretation of the games. I don’t know what his thought process was. But allegedly he did play the games seven times according to the wiki. This whole essay here is satire and not slander and I don’t want to offend this guy if he somehow stumbles across my nonsense tumblr post. At the same time: Suzuki Kei blink twice if you need help.

Anyways half the reason that I’m making this essay is because I want to share my fake ao3 page for this musical. The other half will become apparent later.

Sorry if that’s illegible because of tumblr quality it’s not really important. All you really need to know is that it’s a fake ao3 screenshot for the musical. Also in the author’s note I said he played the games four times but it was actually seven I just remembered wrong because I didn’t want to believe it.

at this point you may be like “Grace shut up and get to the actual musical” and okay, fine, let’s start this nonsense. Also note that I may be referencing things from my essay on the second musical very frequently; I’m not going to force you to go read that though because the fact that you’re reading this is enough of a torment already.

The Musical Begins

Unlike the second musical, this one opens with some narration from Phoenix.

Transcript:

Phoenix: I’m reviewing a particular case at the moment. To me, this case... is one I’ll never forget.

Immediately I think this is important because it establishes that this whole musical takes place in a flashback that Phoenix is reflecting on. Why is this important? Because we know, by the time of the second musical which takes place three years later, Leona is dead.

Knowing that Leona is inherently doomed to die of her Sad Woman Disease paints this whole musical in a different light. It’s not Phoenix reflecting on how he got back together with his lover; it’s Phoenix dwelling on their past together, and the opportunities they had, before her life was so cruelly and inexplicably taken away. We don’t know if Phoenix’s reminiscing takes place before or after Leona’s death... but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was after.

Phoenix, still in the present, starts to sing. “A wave appears on the horizon like a mirage, it trembles, then vanishes. Your voice, carried upon the waves, fades upon the shore, erasing the splendor of the past.”

This line actually shows up in the second musical, sung by Lucia about her imprisoned fiance quite possibly. It’s kind of hard to tell what the meaning of these songs even are. They’re too abstract for me I think. But this line appears very frequently in the first musical when Phoenix is thinking about Leona.

Then we enter the flashback time.

Phoenix inexplicably yells at a newspaper saleswoman. This is not relevant to anything whatsoever. Then Larry barges in to the office, looking for Maya. Phoenix describes him as “A real trouble maker, but you just can’t hate the guy”, the latter part of which I think many people would disagree with. 

Well, afterwards, Maya comes in. Phoenix describes her like this while making exaggerated “can you believe this shit” gestures.

Transcript:

Phoenix: She’s as ditzy as they come. Oh, and about the outfit... Apparently she comes from a family of spirit mediums. Try not to make fun of her, okay?

Suzuki Kei personally has it out for Maya and I can never forgive him for it. Maya in these musicals is here for pure comedic relief but it’s not even comedic because I just get so angry. How can you play the trilogy seven times and think this about her?? The girl who figured out DL-6?? The girl who told Phoenix to sacrifice her life in order to find the truth?? The girl who put on a brave smile in order to try and cheer up her younger cousin even after she saw her own mother murdered right in front of her eyes?? That Maya Fey?? Ditzy as they come??????

Ugh. Moving on.

Maya and Larry run off, leaving Phoenix to watch the American Broadcast.

Important things to note here are the Godot mug, the little line up of what I think are the messed up little ace attorney figurines beneath the screen, and the fact that while this broadcast is supposedly from and to America the screen is actually not at all showing America. Like literally almost everywhere in the world except North and South America.

The broadcast says that Leona Clyde, age 24, was arrested for murdering the senator Robert Cole! Leona Clyde -- that’s Phoenix’s ex-girlfriend! He runs off to the detention center.

She is not happy to see him.

Leona: Mr. Wright... I’m not the woman you once knew.

Let’s Play A Matching Game

Sorry for the abundance of screenshots that are going to be throughout this section. Phoenix convinces Leona to let him defend her. Some of the conversation seems... familiar.

Leona: No one would defend someone who admits to killing a senator. I’m waiting for a court-appointed attorney.

Edgeworth: Every defense attorney I’ve talked to has turned me down.

Phoenix: In that case, let me defend you.

Game Phoenix: Let me defend you.

Leona: Don’t be ridiculous!

Edgeworth: Don’t be ridiculous.

Phoenix: I’ll never accept that you’re a murderer. Let me prove your innocence!

Game Phoenix: Huh? Isn’t it obvious? I’m going to prove that Miles Edgeworth is innocent.

Leona: I’ve already confessed my guilt.

Gumshoe: He confessed that he did it! In court!

Leona: It’s foolish to think you can win this case.

Edgeworth: My case is near hopeless, Wright.

Leona: (in response to phoenix offering to defend her) No you won’t! Don’t ever come here again.

Edgeworth: Look, just go away, and leave me alone!

Phoenix: You of all people should know. Once I decide to do something, I see it through to the end.

Edgeworth: Once you start on something, you always see it through, don’t you?

Leona: I never thought that you’d be representing me.

Phoenix: Ah, who could have guessed this day would come?

Edgeworth: Not me.

Phoenix: You believed in me. You saved me. And this time, I swear... I swear I’ll save you!

Game Phoenix: Edgeworth believed in me, and I believe in him. I’m the only one who knows the real Edgeworth. I’m the only one who can help him.

I could’ve done a few more, but tumblr is already threatening to murder my laptop.

So long story short, Phoenix manages to convince his lover to let him be the defense on the case. Then immediately after swearing to save Leona, he starts singing a song, which I’m not screencapping because this is enough:

“As long as there are people in this world, there’s only one path I will follow! As long as there is love in this world, there’s only one path I will believe in!”

Edgeworth sings this in the second musical after saying that he returned to California because of Phoenix. Phoenix sings it now after swearing to defend Leona. You draw your own conclusions.

And then we finally get the opening credits. Eleven minutes in.

Just Pretend This Is Narumitsu Fanfiction

Following the credits, we see a beautiful beach. Couples (exclusively heterosexual, of course,) dance and embrace in the background for some time, before revealing Phoenix and Leona, in the Even Further Past, before the LSATs or whatever the ace attorney universe’s excuse for law school exams are.

Phoenix establishes his absolute hatred of change, an important characterization moment.

Phoenix: The view here never changes, huh?

Phoenix reminisces on when they were kids. Leona’s parents were both lawyers (they’re both lawyers) and sometimes they would be like lawyers with her when she was a kid. This inspired her to also become a lawyer after their tragic death of Sickness. They never specify what the sickness is that caused two people who must be relatively young to die while Leona was in her early twenties at the latest. It may be whatever sickness claimed Leona’s life later. Sad Woman Disease. (Sad Man Disease for her father, I guess?)

Phoenix also talks about why he’s becoming a lawyer.

Phoenix: Watching you chase your dream inspired me to become a lawyer too.

So, it’s not “my childhood friend looked sad in a newspaper” because I guess that makes no sense or is too gay or something. But this is another important piece of Phoenix characterization. His entire life so far has been focused around Leona. They’ve been friends since they were kids, and then Phoenix decided to become a lawyer solely because Leona was becoming a lawyer. Not even to try and get back into contact with her after she moved away or anything; just because he’s so obsessed with her that he wants to have the same career as her, then they can run a Mom & Pop Law Firm or something, years in the future, after years of happy marriage and a few children or like whatever the hell.

Well, there’s a few steps they’ll need to get to that. At this point Phoenix still hasn’t confessed his feelings for Leona. He does so here, on this beach.

Leona tries to protest.

Leona: But I’m pushy, selfish, and only care about my goals... You’d get fed up with me.

Phoenix: That’s what I’ve always admired about you. That’s who I’ve been chasing all these years. That’s the only person... I love.

Sooo, Phoenix, your type is pushy selfish people who only care about their goals...? In the first, older lower-quality video translation it was “only care about my work”, too. Hm. Things to think about.

They sing a little duet together. Then we go back to present-day of what’s technically still a flashback. Whatever. Murder is happening.

Back To The Murder

So some plot things to establish: Leona is the legal counsel of Governor Miller, who is running for president in the AMERICAN PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION. After the flashback so that Phoenix has some time to change clothes, they show an interview of him talking about the murder.

Governor Miller: I vow to forge a peaceful country with my own two hands, and to prepare myself for whatever may lie ahead.

Reporters: Through thick and thin, he’s a friend of the people!

The Takarazuka musicals are not very good at hiding their killers.

Phoenix: Oh yeah... It’s almost time for the presidential election, isn’t it?

NEVER FORGET, WRIGHT. THIS IS AMERICA. LAND OF THE FREE! god what even was that line.

Anyways, we meet Gumshoe, who is incompetent once again. Maya runs around the crime scene, picks up the murder weapon, puts her fingerprints all over everything, moves things around, all while Phoenix is like “lol get a load of the world’s stupidest girl” or whatever. But who cares about that.

It’s time to get to the only valid part of this musical.

Edgeworth’s Gay Little Villain Solo

You may have seen this one before.

Edgeworth arrives, but not really. It’s like Phoenix heard Edgeworth was prosecuting and immediately entered a dream-like state, where Edgeworth is heralded by the sound of trumpets in Great Revival. He’s played by a different actress than in the other two musicals, since I think she retired in between the six or so months from this musical to the second. She still plays the role well, though, or as well as can be when you’re written in an ace attorney Takarazuka musical.

Shrouded in scarlet solitude... it’s Edgeworth.

Yes, those are six Edgeworths. Yes, they pick Phoenix up and carry him around and dance with him. Yes, it was probably not meant to be at all homoerotic.

He sings a song that’s called “My rule”. I only figured this out later, but it’s loosely based on a “catchphrase” of his in the Japanese version - in game 1 he says something along the lines of “All I can do is get every defendant declared guilty! So I make that my policy.” In DD in his dramatic anime introduction before the trial, he says “I intend to question the defendant with all I have. For that is a part of my creed.” “So I make that my policy” and “For that is a part of my creed”, to my understanding, are both translated from the same line, which I think is like, “sore ga watashi no ruru”, “That is my rule.” (If I’m wrong, please correct me.) In this song he sings about how he’ll reduce all criminals to ash and such, basically talks about his game 1 prosecuting strategy as “my rule”. 

It’s very fun and probably if you want to only watch one number of this musical, it can be this one. It starts about 26:10 in the video I linked.

Once the musical number is done, Phoenix and Edgeworth stare at each other, and the background fades into the courtroom, so court begins. I feel like I should note that Phoenix has not picked up any evidence or talked to any witnesses in this investigation except for Gumshoe, since Maya just moved some things around and then Phoenix had some weird fever dream about Edgeworth which presumably took up the rest of the day.

The Trial, Day 1

Edgeworth: Consider it a prelude to the poignant Greek tragedy that’s about to unfold.

Maya: The real tragedy’s your pompous attitude!

Those are the only screenshots I took of this trial day. Here’s a summary, though:

The trial starts off with Leona confessing, Phoenix says “no I think she’s innocent”, and since ace attorney doesn’t care about the defendant’s wishes he’s allowed to proceed. For some reason Leona lets him do this without complaint. 

Gumshoe is the first witness, he claims to have caught Leona red-handed at the scene of the crime, standing over the corpse. Phoenix tries to claim that since Gumshoe didn’t see Leona committing the crime, he didn’t actually catch her red-handed, to which Edgeworth responds “What do you think being caught red-handed means?” 

Once Gumshoe is dismissed, Lotta takes the stand. She has a photo of the actual moment of the crime, where Leona is holding a knife in the air in front of the victim. 

The Takarazuka musicals like to do this thing where the image is blurry and zoomed out, but then Phoenix will go “I’VE NOTICED A CONTRADICTION” and it zooms in really far as the resolution increases drastically in order to show you the contradiction that is impossible to spot for yourself, because they don’t want people figuring out the mystery in this musical based off of a video game where you have to solve the mystery yourself. Anyways Phoenix zooms in on this photo and sees that there’s blood on Leona’s hand, presumably before she stabbed the victim. How did it get there?

Edgeworth suggests the victim was stabbed multiple times. Phoenix says the autopsy report contradicts that. Edgeworth, uncharacteristically, does not update it to suit his argument. 

Phoenix concludes that this photo is not showing the moment Leona stabbed the victim, but the moment Leona removed the knife! ... Which somehow casts doubt on her having been the one to stab the victim. Because as everyone knows, anyone wanting to kill someone would never remove a knife, it’s not like they’d bleed out faster that way, or anything.

And this whole contradiction is confusing because presumably if the victim was stabbed and then the knife was removed, they’d know that happened, because then the knife would not be found stuck in the victim’s body, since the victim was only stabbed once. So this shouldn’t be news to the prosecution that someone removed the knife after stabbing. But the investigation was headed by the most incompetent version of Gumshoe ever, so. sure. I guess no one knew.

That at least manages to extend the trial another day.

This Totally Has To Be Illegal

After the trial, Phoenix goes to talk to Governor Miller, aka Mr. Totally The Real Killer. Phoenix asks him why he decided to hire Leona as his legal advisor.

Basically, it’s because her parents were both renowned lawyers. Her father was a Chief Prosecutor, and her mother was a defense attorney. ... a prosecutor and a defense attorney couple... who does that remind us of...

Phoenix points out that just because her parents were good lawyers, it doesn’t mean she’d necessarily be one. Miller says that, sure, but she is actually really talented, and her law school marks were spectacular. Phoenix says “WHY WERE YOU LOOKING AT HER LAW SCHOOL MARKS”, like it’s somehow? suspicious? for a government official hiring legal counsel to look at their law school marks?

Apparently it IS suspicious because Governor Miller freaks out and asks if this is an interrogation. Before Phoenix can press much further, he gets a phone call, and leaves Phoenix alone in a big room.

So naturally Phoenix behaves like a fully grown adult running a law firm.

If all he did was sit in the chair, lift up a desk lamp, and poke his finger on a pen, that’s one thing. But then he leans over, OPENS THE GOVERNOR’S DESK DRAWER, and finds a knife that’s just sitting there casually. It looks like a butter knife. It’s not anything major. Maybe the dude just wanted to butter his toast?

I mean I know Phoenix will dig around in stuff whenever in the games, but he has no reason to suspect Governor Miller at all, much less dig through his drawer probably full of confidential government documents to lift up a knife that he thinks is suspicious. It’s not even covered in blood or anything?

Naturally Governor Miller’s assistant comes in just then, and Phoenix puts the knife. in his breast pocket. 

bud. It may look like a butter knife, but putting knives up against your chest is not a great idea. Much less stealing a knife from a governor? 

Well, in his panic, he accidentally knocks over a bunch of books on the desk. The governor’s assistant helps him pick them up, and they find a photo. Look a little familiar?

The photo has the assistant, the victim Robert Cole, Governor Miller, and the victim’s brother who died in an incident two years ago. He’s the “Neil Marshall” of this musical, and he died in what was essentially the SL-9 incident. Same general premise, except it occurred in the courthouse, and the names are different.

AND FINALLY WE REACH THE END OF ACT 1. They do a musical number here which is a weird sort of mashup of the main opening credits song, Edgeworth’s Villain Solo, and the love duet between Phoenix and Leona. They are all such different songs that it sounds a little weird.

ACT 2, FINALLY

The act begins on a sour note with Maya playing with the knife and showing off her characterization, which is one of the most infuriating Maya characterizations you’ll sometimes see around the fandom by people who don’t like Maya.

Maya: Let me whip up my special spirit channeler hamburgers!

sigh.

But then we’re saved (?) by the arrival of EDGEWORTH, who is presumably just here to chat. He asks Phoenix if he’s defending Leona in hopes of winning her back, then says to keep out of it, since it’s a very important case and he can’t understand the gravity of it.

Then Phoenix says this.

Phoenix: Would you be saying that if you were the one on trial? The defendant is in a dark prison, reaching out for hope... Can you imagine the loneliness and sorrow of being ostracized?

CAN YOU IMAGINE IT, EDGEWORTH? CAN YOU IMAGINE IF YOU WERE ON TRIAL AND I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO WOULD DEFEND YOU AND BELIEVED IN YOUR INNOCENCE??

Edgeworth responds to this by essentially rehashing his speech in Turnabout Sisters about how he needs to find all defendants guilty because he can’t guarantee their innocence and all that. Maya gets upset and leaves so that Phoenix and Edgeworth can talk about their childhood in private.

Phoenix once again complains about how people change since nine years old.

Phoenix then says that he has something Edgeworth doesn’t: the POWER TO BELIEVE! Then Maya comes in and tries to spike Edgeworth’s coffee, so he leaves.

The Class Trial

Phoenix explains a bit about Edgeworth and his backstory to Maya. Namely, the class trial. Phoenix was accused of stealing lunch money, Edgeworth stood up for him, but instead of Larry, Leona stood up for him. I guess Suzuki Kei thought “oh the class trial, if Leona stood up for him, it would be so romantic, because she’s a woman, and he’s a man”, or something like that. 

Edgeworth wanted to become a Great Lawyer Like His Father! But then he turned cold as ice.

Phoenix: His father got too deeply involved in a case... and paid for it with his life. Edgeworth saw him murdered. He was never the same again. I bet he couldn’t forgive the criminal.

Yeah I bet he couldn’t ever forgive the person he thought killed his father all these years, Phoenix. I bet he really hates that person, Phoenix. I bet he has nightmares about that person killing his father or something, Phoenix.

Phoenix: He vanished, then returned without his mercy or compassion. He had become a monster. When he lost his father, he also lost the ability to believe in others.

So like... one of the most chilling things about this musical is that they never actually solve DL-6. This probably roughly takes place 15 years after DL-6, since they were about the same age when the class trial started, and at least Leona is 24 now. The next musical takes place three years from now, and in it, Edgeworth refers to von Karma as his mentor, implying he’s still around and doing things.

So, in addition to everything else going wrong with this musical, DL-6 still happens, but von Karma never frames Edgeworth for it fifteen years later. The statute of limitations runs out, and von Karma forever gets away with his crime. And Edgeworth has no idea.

What changes did they make to DL-6, though, you may ask? I’m desperate to know as well. In the third musical, which I’ve watched because I hate myself but am unable to fully understand because I don’t know much Japanese, there is a scene where Miles flashbacks to DL-6. It’s abstract, but he makes gun-throwing motions at Gregory, followed by a gunshot sound.

Therefore, in this musical’s internal canon, either Miles Edgeworth shot his father, or he believes he did for the rest of his life.

... moving on.

Phoenix: But he still has his humanity. It’s still there, deep down inside!

At least, if nothing else, Phoenix still believes in him. Even this Takarazuka Musical couldn’t touch that.

The Feenie Sweater

Right after this, Larry barges in, and Phoenix leaves him alone with Maya. The musical tries teasing Larry/Maya, but fortunately, Maya’s having none of it.

Maya: You’re barking up the wrong tree.

Props to this musical for not being as bad as it could have been.

After this, the two sit down on the couch, and Maya asks for more gossip on Phoenix and Leona. Larry launches into a story, which turns into a flashback that ends up being narrated by Phoenix halfway through. This one’s about Phoenix and Leona’s relationship.

This is an interesting line in here, “I’ll guide you to the future”, for it loosely referencing the sort of love ballad Phoenix sings with Lucia in the second musical which is about “I’ll take you to that radiant future”, and he later sings to the memory of Leona right around the time of his big spiral into despair.

I’m sorry if you haven’t read my other essay and just said “wait what” to what I just typed.

Leona was getting ready to move to New York to defend the weak “in the big city”. This is rather strange wording because it implies that California does not in fact have a big city. She says some things in her conversation with Phoenix that probably plant some of his later issues.

Leona: This is the first time we’ll be apart since we were kids.

Leona: We promised we’d always be together.

Leona: I’ll be waiting. Waiting for you to come to me.

Haha. Sure would be a shame... if something were to happen... and they wouldn’t be able to be together anymore...

So some dancers wearing black come in and take off their outer jackets, to symbolize the passage of time. They circle around Phoenix and Leona. In this, you can just barely see, Phoenix is wearing a pink sweater beneath his jacket.

“Oh,” I think to myself, “Is that the Feenie sweater? Are they including it here as a reference to the games?”

Then the dancers keep moving.

THAT IS NOT THE FEENIE SWEATER. That is a pink sweater with a sexily drawn woman on it.

This is the other half of the reason why I decided to go through with making this essay. 

This is so incredibly funny to me. Suzuki Kei Who Has Played The Games Seven Times has seen the hand-knit bright pink sweater with a giant red heart on it seven times. The sweater Iris, Phoenix’s girlfriend, lovingly knit for him that he wears all the time even though it is one of the tackiest, cheesiest items of clothing to ever exist. And so, when the costume designers were designing the clothes for College Phoenix Wright, they asked themselves: “Should we include the Feenie sweater?”

and “NO,” someone must have shouted, “NO, we can NOT include the Feenie sweater, it is PINK and it has a HEART on it and it’s TOO GIRLY. Phoenix Wright is a MANLY MAN. He would not EVER wear something PINK with a HEART on it.”

“BUT,” someone else said, “it’s a REFERENCE to the original games, where he DID wear a pink sweater with a heart on it! We MUST include it to pander to the fans!”

“WAIT,” a third person interjected. “I have a BRILLIANT IDEA. We can keep the pink... But to make it VERY CLEAR he is a heterosexual, masculine male... we put a sexy woman on it.”

And Person Three Got A Raise.

Thank god we’re finally halfway done this musical.

We Just Have To Go On With Our Lives Now

There’s plot or something happening. Leona breaks up with Phoenix inexplicably over the phone. Probably because of that freaking sweater. Imagine wearing that. God.

Eventually we go back to Phoenix talking to Leona, and he asks about the Jack Lyon case, which is the rip-off version of the Joe Darke case. Leona is pretty cagey about it, but Phoenix proves that she was there in the gallery that day. Leona refuses to answer, claims again that she killed the victim in her case, and leaves.

This makes Phoenix sad, so he starts singing.

Phoenix: I want to bring you back! I believe in you.

If this sounds familiar, it’s the part where I started absolutely losing my mind in the second musical because this line had never shown up before then, I’d forgotten it was in this musical, and Phoenix was screaming it alone in a red room, so I thought he was like desperately resorting to a necromancy ritual in hopes of bringing Leona back to life.

Instead, this line actually has CONTEXT, though it does just end up enforcing my theory. This is Phoenix mourning what he used to have with Leona, wanting to bring the “old her” back, because he’s devastated that people sometimes change. There are several flashbacks of their college days where he’s wearing his Sexy Woman Sweater. He does succeed in winning her back at the end of this musical. Before she dies, of course.

Phoenix in musical 2 still believes that he can bring back what he used to have with Leona... even beyond death. That’s something affirmed by this musical. I’m very grateful to it for somehow managing to enforce my nonsensical theory.

Doctor Ema

After this, Phoenix returns to his office, and meets with someone new.

That’s right! Only now, halfway through the musical, do we actually get to meet the Ema-equivalent to Leona’s Lana-equivalent. Her name is Monica Clyde. She has little rainbow heart stickers on her briefcase, which is the closest thing this musical has to acknowledging that gay people exist.

But what does this little briefcase contain, you may ask? Scientific investigation tools? No.

A full surgical toolset. Because you never know when someone’ll get sick, or when someone will need an entire operation in front of you. I guess.

So yes, Monica Clyde is not a forensic scientist in training, but a doctor! She decided to become a doctor because of her parents, who passed away of The Sickness, and so became a doctor in order to save lives like theirs.

Once more this has much darker and deeper implications than the musical is even aware of, because Monica is so anxious about treating sick people that she carries a full surgical toolset around with her at all times, scared to lose someone like she lost her parents... and then sometime in the next three years, Leona, her big sister, is going to die.

Of what? The strange Sickness that claimed her parents? A car accident? A botched spur-of-the-moment surgery? Whatever it is, Monica was unable to save her, even when she’d been training her entire life for it.

Monica is not mentioned at all throughout the second musical. It’s as if she does not exist.

Because unlike Ema of Rise From The Ashes, Monica is not at the heart of this story. She is, primarily, a plot device here to make Leona not trust Phoenix so that he can angst about their relationship. 

What a mess this world is.

The Trial, Part 2

Rather than try to prove Leona’s innocence, Phoenix wants to link the current case to not-SL-9, the Jack Lyon case. He does this by showing this picture.

Senator Cole, the victim, is in this picture. His younger brother whose name I’ve forgotten, the victim of not-SL-9, is also in this picture. They are brothers. It is apparently novel that they are in the same picture, and somehow makes their cases linked.

As well, Governor Miller is in the picture. I guess you could say like... Governor Miller’s legal counsel is the defendant, so that’s another link? Even though the Governor would presumably know a Senator, so this isn’t an unusual group. Right now Phoenix has absolutely nothing to prove that these two cases are linked other than “hey, these two victims are brothers”, but apparently it works. So they spend a lot of time talking about not-SL-9, since Leona has confessed to the murder on day 1 and there is absolutely nothing indicating that she can’t be immediately declared guilty.

They hid the fact that Monica was a hostage in this not-SL-9, meaning that some of the case records were forged. Here’s Edgeworth’s reaction when this comes out.

Edgeworth: This is an outrage! I’m the most influential prosecutor in America! There’s nothing I don’t know!

In RFTA, when Edgeworth learns he’d been using forged evidence to give a man the death penalty, he is devastated, his entire worldview is shaken, he sees himself as a monster who could end up becoming horribly corrupt if he isn’t stopped.

Musical Edgeworth goes “I DIDN’T KNOW SOMETHING???”

It’s certainly strange characterization, but I guess Edgeworth is further behind in his character arc than in RFTA, so... ugh. Fine. 

Phoenix calls Monica out as a witness to prove she was involved in the case. This causes Leona to panic, and try to dismiss Phoenix as her attorney, like Lana in RFTA, but Edgeworth interjects to call Monica in anyways. He and Phoenix have a little moment.

Edgeworth: You said to believe in others. I suppose I’ll try believing in you. Try to keep up.

Phoenix: Edgeworth!

So Monica comes to the stand to testify. We get to see this picture of Monica being held hostage, and not-Joe-Darke’s incredible eyeliner.

Lots of it is very similar to the actual RFTA, except instead of the victim being stabbed on the knight with the giant knife, he’s instead stabbed with a regular old knife. Leona still refuses to admit to what really happened, until Edgeworth convinces her to believe in Phoenix.

Edgeworth: Your attorney is a runaway train with a one-track mind. Yet he placed all of his faith in you. Believe in him. You owe him that much.

Leona testifies, and says that when she found the victim, he was stabbed with a scalpel.

Here is where things get weird.

Scalpels Can’t Kill People

So basically earlier in this trial, they talk about how Leona knew that the knife that stabbed the victim was double-edged despite being buried in his chest. The judge questions if this means Leona killed him, but Phoenix is quick to say no, she was searched when she entered the courthouse and couldn’t have concealed a knife.

Yet, Monica was able to bring in her surgical toolkit which contains several sharp knives, scalpels, scissors, etc.

This is the first major contradiction.

Leona continues to say that when she found Monica, and the scalpel stabbed in the victim, she also ran into Governor Miller, who if you haven’t been able to tell yet is the Gant-equivalent of this musical. He offered to help her with the cover-up, etc.

The next bit goes a lot like RFTA. Phoenix accuses Governor Miller, who barges in, says Phoenix has the decisive evidence in his pocket. This is the “butter knife” that Phoenix took from his office when he dug around in confidential documents and stole it for no particular reason. It has Monica’s fingerprints on it! ... And Phoenix’s and Maya’s too probably because they were handling it without gloves, but they don’t mention that part.

Leona cries about how she shouldn’t have trusted Phoenix because he was apparently now blaming Monica, Monica looks terrified, she and Leona have some good sister moments but it’s not as good as it could be if the story was actually about Leona and Monica like how RFTA was about Lana and Ema. But Phoenix has the decisive piece of evidence that can turn this around.

It is this:

Phoenix: Scalpels are made for medical incisions, not stabbings. So how did it stab the victim?

...

...

...

... What?

So like. Yes, scalpels are made for medical incisions. Medical incisions often involve cutting through flesh, very easily. As a result, they are sharp. Extremely sharp. As in: their purpose is literally to stab people, very specifically.

Yes, they’re easier to control, so that surgeons don’t regularly stab people how they’re not supposed to be stabbed, but it’s not like, impossible to stab someone in a killing way with a scalpel? Admittedly, I have never tried to kill someone using a scalpel. And I do not have experience using a scalpel for surgeries because I am not a surgeon. But I’m pretty sure, if you take a sharp scalpel, and you stab someone in the chest with it with a reasonable amount of force... they die.

Like, is this a particular kind of scalpel that is not very sharp? Is the problem that the blade doesn’t match up with the initial wound? But even then, we don’t have the original unforged autopsy report or even a picture, so how would Phoenix know what the original wound looked like to say it didn’t match up? And even then why wouldn’t Phoenix say that instead of SCALPELS CAN’T STAB PEOPLE???

This is his decisive contradiction and it makes ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE TO ME!!!

Well Darn I Guess Scalpels Can’t Kill People

This is such a decisive piece of evidence, that scalpels can’t kill people, coming from the man who thought “caught red-handed” does not involve being caught standing over a corpse with blood on your hands, that it causes Governor Miller to confess.

Unlike Gant, who created the murder with Neil Marshall both to ensure that there was decisive evidence to convict Joe Darke, a serial killer who had not left any decisive evidence behind, and gain control over the prosecutor’s office in order to pull similar stunts to get criminals convicted using false evidence, Governor Miller does not have that as his motive. After all, he’s not a police officer. Instead, he ended up accidentally killing not-Joe-Darke, and then set up the incident in order to get Leona on his side. As her parents were both influential lawyers and very respectable, having her and her parents’ reputation on his side could help him become President of America Where This Takes Place.

So, let’s just take a moment to run over some of the things that made the original Rise From The Ashes great, in my opinion. Just for fun.

1 - The heart of the story between the Skye sisters. Lana closing off to protect Ema, Ema wanting to get through to her sister and get back to the way things used to be. Phoenix, in this story, is more of a bystander to this plotline rather than in the heart of it himself.

2 - Edgeworth’s Character Development. Basically RFTA creates an interesting transition between Turnabout Goodbyes and JFA. It causes Edgeworth to re-evaluate everything he knows about being a prosecutor. So quickly on the heels of Turnabout Goodbyes, it crushes the last bit of hope in him. It compares him to Gant, who also hates criminals, and forces him to wonder if his hatred of crime will one day lead to him being a criminal himself. He’s already convicted one person on forged evidence; how many others could there be?

3 - The Ends Justify The Means. ... wait come back, don’t leave. What I found neat about this case was also Gant’s motive. At one point he was presumably an honest person who hated crime and wanted to stop criminals. But over time in the police force, he became corrupted. He wanted to have all criminals convicted. So what do you do when you don’t have the evidence to convict them? Joe Darke was a serial killer who has killed several people and may have killed more if he’d gone free. The only way to stop and convict him was by using forged evidence. Other criminals could hide evidence to get away with their crimes, so people like Gant would make it up to catch them; but then when do you stop? What happens if there’s no evidence because someone is truly innocent? When does the line between “this person is a criminal and I want to stop them” and “I just want to convict everyone I’m dealing with” become blurred? This is also something he shares with Edgeworth and helps to advance his character.

All three of these things are either lessened or outright ignored in this musical. Leona and Monica’s story takes a backseat to Phoenix and Leona’s Love Story, with Monica only showing up halfway through, and mainly as an excuse as to why Leona is withdrawn. Edgeworth doesn’t seem to blame himself for the forged evidence he used, and doesn’t have a crisis questioning his morality over it. And Governor Miller’s motive is purely power. Unlike Gant, who would have become Chief of Police whether he solved SL-9 or not, Miller needed Leona to win the presidency. And instead of asking her to help him with his campaign like a normal person, he just blackmailed her instead.

... How do you play the games seven times and miss this much?

The Case Finally Ends

god. we’re almost there.

The case ends, Leona is declared not guilty but will still face trial for covering up murders and such. Probably less of a sentence than Lana because she was not involved in ongoing police corruption? Either way she’s dead in three years, so she’s got something a bit more concerning coming up.

She’s led away. Phoenix sings a bit about Leona before being interrupted by Edgeworth... who has something important to tell him.

Edgeworth: You awakened within me those once-cherished emotions I had discarded. I see visions of a distant, nostalgic past.

So basically this is the unnecessary feelings of the musical. Something along the lines of “seeing you again and fighting for my former ideals is making me question many things about myself.”

How does Phoenix respond?

Phoenix: Edgeworth... Try talking normally for a chance.

Sure, we were all thinking it, but that’s a little cold, Phoenix.

Edgeworth tries a smooth recovery.

Edgeworth: I don’t do... idle chit-chat.

This doesn’t accomplish much. So he leaves to allow Leona to visit with Phoenix alone. He’s got to go change for something more important coming up.

Leona and Phoenix decide that they’re going to get back together once Leona is done her sentence! They make a promise that is very funny if you know she’ll be dead in three years.

Phoenix: I’ll be waiting. For you.

There are a lot of hugs here, I’m not screencapping them all. There are also several moments where their faces get very close together and like, their nose brushes the other’s cheek or something, but they never actually kiss. Is it because the actresses weren’t comfortable with it (valid), or they thought kissing would be too much for the musical (sure, whatever), or since both characters are played by women the show staff did not want two women kissing on stage (probably the real answer)? I don’t like watching kisses, but I kept bracing myself for one and then it never happened, so.

Phoenix ends the main part of the musical with one last musical number starring my personal favourite piece:

Phoenix: I want to bring you back! I believe in you.

I like to think that at this point, this is present-day Phoenix, after finishing his reminiscing, still desperately wishing he could bring Leona back from death.

But alas, he cannot. And so, after one last daydream of them dancing together on the beaches of California, singing about their love, the musical ends.

Dance Time!

This starts at exactly the two hour mark, if you’re interested in watching what is, once again, one of the only fun parts of this musical.

Seriously, Edgeworth’s actress kills it here, when I first saw this I went “oh, this is why I saw so many people being gay for her on twitter.”

Edgeworth’s song is an encore of “My Rule”, so it’s lots of fun. Afterwards Phoenix gets another fun piece.

Then we get to the love ballad part, which I can probably overanalyze, I feel like I haven’t done enough ridiculous over-analyzing in this essay in comparison to the other.

Uhhh so the fog represents how Phoenix feels lost in this world without Leona. You can see it in the second screenshot separating the two of them, representing the barrier of death between the two of them. Idk it’s midnight I’m getting worn out from having to think about this musical for so long.

But his mourning over Leona’s death becomes even more apparent in the credits, where Phoenix sings that one line again:

Phoenix: I want to bring you back! I believe in you.

I’m not fixing that screenshot, I think it’s oddly fitting, in a way. That’s me right now.

Then at the very end, he sings this song.

Phoenix: I’ll spend... this eternal life... soaring through... the heavens!

Technically, this refers to his name Phoenix, but let’s dig a little deeper. He spends the rest of his life soaring through the heavens... the heavens that Leona went to after her untimely death, perhaps?

Overall, the musical becomes much more interesting when you just see it as a prequel to the second musical. This musical establishes many core concepts of Phoenix’s character: his refusal to believe in the concept of things changing, for one, and also his extreme dependency on Leona who he was never separated from since they were kids and where he based his entire life around her dreams and ideals. All he can think about is her. And in the end, he promises to wait for her in California.

Yet, to paraphrase Miles Edgeworth, all that is waiting for him is her death. Their dream of opening up a Mom & Pop Law Firm will never come true.

Thanks again for bearing with me even though this wasn’t as funny!

[70swizards]

james & adhd

tw// everything to do w adhd?

james never understood why he always procrastinated. he never understood why he could never bring himself to do the work he knew he was supposed to be doing

“why can’t i just do it? i need to do it- i can’t- i can’t do it,” he’d whimper to himself, his charms homework lonely on his desk.

why did james always forget what he was saying? he swears the idea was there a second ago, but it’s no longer there, and to save his life, he couldn’t remember what that was.

james would raise his hand in class, the answer clear in his head. he knows what to say. as soon as he is called on, the thought slips like water through cracks. it was gone

everything was so goddamn loud. why was everything so goddamn loud?! auditory hypersensitivity? he couldn’t stand people talking on top of each other, he couldn’t stand the loud tv, he couldn’t stand the noises, unless he was the one making them.

he was a master at multi-tasking, but at the same time, he absolutely could not do it. if he was listening to music, and someone had walked in to speak to him, he’d turn the music off or he wouldn’t understand any of it.

on the other hand, while in class, he couldn’t just listen to his professor speak. it was impossible. he had to be doing something else. he was so under-stimulated it hurt.

james had glow in the dark stars on his ceiling. he had memorized how many stars were about to fall off, and how many moons were scattered about. the nights he had stared up at his ceiling, not being able to sleep were countless

rejection sensitive dysphoria.

he was so sensitive to rejection. one time, when sirius wouldn’t reply to his owl, he was sure that sirius hated him and never wanted to speak to him again. he cried in his bed for hours, desperately wanting to believe otherwise.

it was the same thing with criticism. he knew his friends were just trying to help him, but it still hurt him that he wasn’t doing it perfectly.

“hey prongs, your dive wasn’t the best last match, you should probably work on that!” sirius said to him during practice. and of course, it wasn’t his fault, but james could only smile and nod, feeling his heart wrench

he couldn’t handle his emotions well. if he walks in to the boys’ dorm, and they’re watching tv, that’s way too loud for james’ preference, he’d ask if they can lower the volume. if they say no, james would a twinge of sadness as he feels his eyes water.

one spring break, remus took the marauders to a muggle mall, and sirius insisted on stopping to check out the toy store. there, james found a little red and black fidget cube. at first he had just bought it cause it looked cool, but afterwards, you’d never spot james without it. if he was forced to stop using it in class, he’d bounce his leg, play with his quill, twist his ring, bite his lips, pick at the skin around his nails. anything. he needed to move. he needed to fidget.

talking about moving, he’d get in trouble for standing up too much in class. he couldn’t sit anymore, he felt as if he were about to combust, he shouldn’t be getting in trouble for that.

what was up with the two week obsessions that kept shifting?? one week he was so adamant on learning how to crochet, and the other, he just wanted to know everything about greek mythology. but soon enough, he didn’t care about any of those things anymore, and it didn’t feel right to him

james loved transfiguration. it was his favourite class and surprisingly enough, he loved when mcgonagall gave them homework. one time, she had told them to write a seven foot essay about the book they read that term. they had two weeks.

but james? he started it the day before the deadline, not because he didn’t want to do it, but because he knew it would take a ton of effort. but as expected, he loved doing it once he started. so he sat on the floor for six full hours, not moving a centimeter, working on that essay. no water breaks, no bathroom, no food. nothing. just the essay. hyperfixation.

for some bizarre reason that james would forever wonder, he always needed the pressure of failure or a competition / deadline to focus and get things done.

when it comes to regular tasks, he preferred to finish bigger tasks in one sitting, even though it rarely happened. but with smaller tasks, he would alternate, they’d get boring way too fast

and before actually starting said big task, james would feel paralyzed. he would be too overwhelmed to do anything. he’d just sit on the couch, and do nothing. because if he couldn’t do that task, he couldn’t do anything else. he just gets to sit there and worry about it. he hated it.

james struggled to wait for his turn. he knew it was rude to interrupt people, he knew he should be quiet when someone was talking, but he just couldn’t. before he’d even process what had happened, he’d cut someone off, mid-sentence, and say what he wanted to say, only to apologize afterwards.

body doubling. james always needed someone in the room with him as he worked or did anything really, as it helped him focus and complete the task faster, without getting distracted. just sitting in the same room would help

james constantly used anecdotal communication. he thinks he’s comforting others when he does this. but usually, they just get mad as they often think he’s trying to invalidate their struggles, when he’s only trying to make them feel better. he’s trying to show them that they’re not alone

“i’ve been failing divination and i don’t know what to do,” someone would tell him. “i’m failing divination too! really horribly! mate, i even get extra homework and stuff! it honestly sucks, you know? all the extra work doesn’t even help!” and that’s when the person thinks that he’s only trying to talk about himself.

his mind and thoughts were always faster than his mouth and hands. when writing, he’d skip words, or end up writing in a horrible handwriting. when reading aloud, he’d stutter and mix words up, since his mind was reading faster than his mouth was speaking.

everything. was. in. slow. motion. why did everyone talk so slowly? why couldn’t they talk faster? walk faster? just be faster.

james hated the way polyester felt. he couldn’t touch it. there was no way in hell you could get him to put a polyester jumper or jacket on. no. get it away. when he’d touch it, he’d feel like his hands were dirty, and immediately had to wash them

often during classes he would zone out, sometimes aware of it. his eyes would bore into the wall, as he stared into nothingness, his mind racing.

he loved to daydream. though it usually happens out of nowhere, as his thoughts drift, he enjoyed it. he loved to imagine himself fighting off aliens or winning the house cup.

he was the most impulsive perosn youd ever meet. if he felt like jumping into the black lake with his robes on, he would do it and there’s nothing you can do about it.

james had comfort items. a teddy bear he would never get rid of, one he had since he was a new born, and a gryffindor quidditch hoodie that was a tad bit too big for him. he’d wear that hoodie every single day if he could, and he could never fall asleep without the teddy bear.

james had adhd. living with it might’ve not been the easiest, but it made him him. and in his own way, he loved it, even if it got really really hard sometimes

[mostlysignssomeportents]

MRNA vaccines and Clarke's Law

Pluralistic is my mutli-channel publishing effort - a project to push the limits of POSSE (post own site, share everywhere) that allows me to maintain control over my work while still meeting my audience where they are, on platforms whose scale makes them hard to rely on.

Every day, I write 1-5 essays and syndicate them over Twitter, Tumblr, Mastodon and email, with the canonical link at pluralistic.net, a CC-BY licensed Wordpress site with no tracking, data-collection or ads.

https://pluralistic.net

Now, I've added another channel: Medium, where I'm part of a group of paid writers who contribute a mix of original material that's exclusive to the platform and syndicated material from elsewhere.

https://doctorow.medium.com

I was delighted and honored to be invited to the program by editorial director Jon Gluck and I'm happy to be working with Megan Morrone - whom I've known since her Twit days - as my editor. I've been syndicating my Pluralistic posts there and it's been going great.

Yesterday, I published my first Medium-original post: "Manufacturing mRNA vaccines is surprisingly straightforward (despite what Bill Gates thinks)," which discusses vaccine apartheid and the covid vaccine patent exemption petition at the WTO.

https://doctorow.medium.com/manufacturing-mrna-vaccines-is-surprisingly-straightforward-despite-what-bill-gates-thinks-222cffb686ee

The post breaks down an amazing scholarly article on mRNA vaccine manufacture, “Rapid development and deployment of high‐volume vaccines for pandemic response” (DOI: 10.1002.amp2.10060), from the Journal of Advanced Manufacturing and Processing.

https://aiche.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1002/amp2.10060

The authors - a mix of public health, chemical engineering and vaccine specialists from Imperial College and the International AIDS Vaccine Initiative - describe the results of their modeling of new mRNA vaccine factories, based on the experience of ramping up covid vaccine facilities.

They base their findings - contrasting mRNA vaccine production with conventional vaccine production - on an open-access Superpro Designer model (available at Github).

These.

Findings.

Are.

Amazing.

https://github.com/ZKis-ZK/RNA-vaccine-drug-substance-production-techno-economic-modelling

Seriously. Like Clarke's Third Law/indistinguishable from magic Amazing. How amazing? Well. compared to conventional vaccine production, mRNA factories are:

99 - 99.9% smaller

95 - 99.7% cheaper

1,000% faster

If you convert a single closet in a conventional factory to mRNA production, it will make more doses than the rest of the factory *combined*. Only part of the factory needs to be a high-spec cleanroom facility, and the rest can be cheaper and more easily maintained.

Spend $20m to build one of these microfactories, install a 5l bioreactor, and, for $100m/year, it will produce *one billion vaccine doses*.

As I wrote in my Medium piece:

> JESUS FUCKING HOLY GODDAMNED SHITBALLS

These aren't performance gains in GPUs or SSDs. These are gains in nanoscale chemistry producing precision medicine for human consumption!

Now, that said, there are some caveats. You still have to figure out testing, materials and distribution (of course).

But even there, it's easy to see how these vast reductions in cost, scaling and logistics will help - from producing medicines for trials more quickly to reducing cold-chain logistics by making vaccines closer to the people who will receive them.

Every pandemic ends with a lot of serious chin-stroking and demands to "learn some lessons" and "prepare for the next one," but this never seems to happen.

https://www.wired.com/story/its-already-time-to-stop-the-next-pandemic-can-a-prize-help/

As the JAMP authors say, the next pandemic - or even epidemic - will require a very fast rampup of vaccine production, as will any vaccine breakthroughs for treating current endemic viruses.

The production modeling they do here suggests that we actually can prepare for The Next One.

And as I say in my Medium piece, this is also how we can end the current vaccine apartheid and avert the next one.

Image: Cnbrb (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Hyperspace-star-streaks-effect.jpg

CC BY-SA: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

Quapan (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/hinkelstone/49920420853

CC BY: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

drop the essay bestie

ok I need to work so I'm just copy and pasting + minor edits of my 2 year old reddit post, even if it's kind of pretentious but talking about music is so goddamn hard, yknow? anyways this is my favourite album ever and this is why:

You knew the hero died so what's the movie for? — The Concept of Storytelling in Folklore

One of the first lines of folklore (2020), Taylor Swift's eighth studio album, is "You know the greatest films of all time were never made." In the 1, a song all about the missed opportunities of a once great love, the speaker suggests that their need for great films has not been met. From the first song on, Taylor invites us into her exploration of the nature of storytelling. Two main threads can be found throughout most of the songs on folklore: How and why do we tell stories? At the same time, Taylor presents us with the fact that just as we experience stories by comparing them to life, we experience life by comparing it to stories.

Towards the end of track two, cardigan, Taylor sings "Tried to change the ending / Peter losing Wendy". She compares what she (or the narrator) is going through to a classic story and sees what happened to her as just as inevitable as what undoubtedly happens to Peter and Wendy every time someone re-watches the play or rereads the novel. Only two songs later she and Justin Vernon proclaim that they "think [they]'ve seen this film before / And [they] didn't like the ending". There is no direct comparison to a specific movie here, in a way that it's implied this isn't specifically about one story but more about how stories in general tend to end. Here, we see very well how the way narratives resolve themselves informs how the two characters have decided to act.

Another interesting aspect that sees its first blueprints in cardigan, is further hinted at in the last great american dynasty, and comes to full fruition in exile, is the idea of perspective informing how stories are perceived. More on cardigan's role in this later, but the last great american dynasty's tongue-in-cheek tone shows a narrator who cannot help but share her fascination for Rebekah Harkness, despite her words seeming more condemning. "She had a marvelous time ruining everything." It strikes me as a loving song for a woman who would typically be villainized by society. Later on, mad woman, does something similar to this. In exile, however, we are given two equally-weighted and deliciously contradictory perspectives. Each verse provides us with a completely different view of the situation, which finally escalates in a bridge, during which they cannot agree whether signs were given or not. The story belongs to whomever who gets to tell it. This is picked up again one song later in my tears ricochet: "And you're the hero flying around, saving face," she sings about the indisputable villain who has outlived her and can now change the story.

With "And just like a folksong, our love will be passed on" seven brings in the idea that stories aren't only told but also retold. I've always found the song to have a sort of patchwork nature to it, mostly because of the disjointed flashing images of childhood without a discernible story. The next song august, continues these themes, as does betty towards the end of the album. Now we get to hear the story of cardigan again from a completely new perspective. At the same time the following two songs, illicit affairs and this is me trying that do not appear to be a part of the "love triangle" triplet seem to pick up themes and storylines very similar to august and betty respectively. This calls back to "passed down like folksongs" and "seeing this film before". We retell stories again and again, changing out details and adjusting the focus.

But, as hoax asks in its bridge: "You knew the hero died, so what's the movie for?" To answer a lyric with a lyric: "Just a single glimpse of relief to make some sense of what you've seen." epiphany suggests that we need some way to process life – especially the worst parts of it – happening to us. The song does this by comparing the Coronavirus Pandemic with World War 2. The flipside to this is invisible string, which seeks to explain how the love Taylor currently has can feel so great to her. "Isn't it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?" Throughout the song she is begging "Time, curious, Time" for clues that could show her how to make her life a story like we're used to seeing. Coherent narratives are so ubiquitous, have such a clear form to us, that they are in fact easier to understand than the chaotic randomness of real life. We need that invisible string.

Finally in the album's epilogue the lakes, Taylor proclaims herself as a writer first and appears to want to retreat from life to write and be with her muse. Despite claiming no one was "around to tweet it", Taylor did in fact, in this song, capture how the "red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground". Tweets are a notoriously quick medium where characters are limited and words don't tend to last longer than one page-refresh. Here, she's showcasing the value in putting thought into creating, because now we can all try to use her music to "make some sense of what we've seen."