#feeling compelled to throw this post into the void

[mostspecialgirl]

To me they are the same. Is this controversial. Is this weird

[hawkogurl]

Hi! 😊 I saw you post something saying it was clear to you that raimi harry Osborn was schizophrenic do you think you could please explain that a bit? (If you've already made a post about it and I've just missed it I apologise) Have a nice day!

Probably won’t be the best worded so I’ll be happy to elaborate further. Also feel compelled to state that I probably view that constitutes canon pretty differently than most people. What I mean by the idea that Harry having some sort of psychotic disorder in the raimiverse is at least semi-canon is generally pretty complicated so bear with me.

A lot of what has brought me to this conclusion is pretty doylist. It’s not a plot hole that Harry’s hallucinating in the second movie, the way the first two movies are written in this regard before Sony decided to fuck with things in the third is too deliberate. Raimi’s history as a horror directors shows in a lot of areas, but it never really feels like he’s throwing elements in for the hell of it, whenever something feels horrorish, it’s pretty deliberate. All this to say that Harry’s not hallucinating for the hell of it.

When it comes to specifically raimiverse based interpretation, there’s generally four things I see a lot. The first and in my opinion weakest being the idea that it’s happening as a result of the serum in the nearby hidden room leaking. I understand how this is seen as appealing or interesting, especially in any case where someone might think it doesn’t make sense for Harry not to have developed a goblin persona like Norman had. In the past I’ve gone into how I believe that’s also a pretty deliberate narrative choice, so putting all that aside, I don’t think it makes sense for this to be intended by the creators. From a writing standpoint, if that’s what we were supposed to think, you’d be shown shots to indicate things like that. Additionally, the serum itself is always shown to be stored in a liquid form, only gas when it’s applied to a person, a process that consistently requires quite a bit of machinery. I understand the appeal of the theory, but if I’m looking at what I think is most likely to be the thought in the creators heads, I don’t think this is likely.

I also see it generally get dismissed as ghosts a lot, which also feels strange to me. The only other instance of something happening that could be seen as similarly supernatural would also be in this movie, being the scene where Peter, conflicted about how being Spider-Man effects his life, has a conversation with Ben, who is also dead, in the car from the first movie in the middle of a white void. This scene occurs in an ambiguous white background using imagery from the last conversation Peter had with Ben before he died and also draws on how that conversation has affected Peter’s worldview. This scene ends by cutting to Peter, who’s sitting in bed with his eyes open as he comes to the conclusion he can’t keep being Spider-Man. Because of the framing of it in a space that isn’t recognizable as the normal physical world and the fact we’re shown Peter in the physical world after it, we’re not meant to be taking this scene literally. This scene is a metaphorical expression of Peter’s internal conflict, not a literal event that’s physically happening in any sort of meaningful capacity. It’s a visual expression of a non physical story element. This isn’t all that important for my point, but I find it important to state for later comparison.

This leaves Harry’s interactions with Norman after he’s died as the only remaining event that can be simply explained with the supernatural. That being said, it doesn’t really make internal sense for this to be the case. Though fantastical, every superhuman element of this story has been at least connected to some sort of scientific idea that grounds it in reality, never something more fantastical. The Green Goblin is the result of a performance enhancing drug created for the military. Doc Ock is the result of malfunctioning AI and his most dangerous goals rely on using nuclear fusion to create energy. Sandman was created by the writer’s rather incorrect idea of what a particle accelerator is. Venom is an alien, but still connected pretty blatantly to real life biology ideas of real word symbiotes. It’s all rather fantastical and implausible, but it’s all still connected to real world familiar scientific ideas. To randomly bring the supernatural into it for scenes it could be easily replaced with something else to accomplish the same end results and never elaborating on the idea that apparently ghosts are real would be a really bizarre world building choice.

But going back to the scene with Peter, unlike that this scene is not framed to be metaphorical. It’s happening in the real world right before and after real physical events with Harry and has physical results on the world and the characters. In some capacity, what’s happening here is literal—but I don’t think that means some piece of Norman is physically there. The audience is viewing this alongside Harry and from his perspective, there’s never any other character who’s present for scenes where Harry experiences things like this. The events are literal and intended to be something physically happening, but only from Harry’s perspective. There’s no other set of eyes to establish the reality of this from beyond Harry’s sole perspective.

Among the common theories I see, I probably like the idea that it’s alcohol induced the second most. I don’t really like to demean it because I think it’s very likely that this idea is important to people in the same way it being psychological is important to me. That being said, I don’t know how much I think it holds up to scrutiny. Yes, Harry’s shown to be drinking pretty heavily around this period, but in the moment he first experiences his hallucinations, he’s not shown to be drinking. He at least appears to be somewhat sober. In the second instance, he is shown to drink, but only in the literal seconds before he hallucinates. If this is intended to be the actual cause, the creators would more likely put more emphasis on him drinking in relation to the hallucinations or similar. That being said, I have reasons I think it was kept more vague that I’ll get into.

If I’m looking at what was likely intended, the most likely doylist explanation for why these scenes exist, the idea it’s psychological for him is the only thing that’s going to consistently check out. For one thing, in the comics, Harry is schizophrenic! That’s outright the word used to describe what he has going on, he is diagnosed with schizophrenia. Additionally, in a lot of comics with Harry at the time, he’s hallucinating Norman as an expression of a lot of his internal conflicts, similarly to what we see here. In the comics that Raimi Harry most closely follows the broader beats of, he has persecutory hallucinations of his father as an expression of his internal conflict, hallucinations that target the things that he feels make him weak and drive him towards his worst behaviors while also being specifically schizophrenic. In the raimi trilogy, Harry develops persecutory hallucinations of his father that particularly target the idea that he feels weak and drive him towards his worst behaviors. From that alone, it’s not irrational to conclude that it’s at least something of a reference towards his schizophrenia in the comics.

What’s more, in the novelizations it appears to be rather explicit. While interviews and Reddit AMAs have made it somewhat clear that Peter David, their author, did have quite a bit of freedom, they also made it clear he was still obligated to follow the scripts he was given rather closely and his writing still had to be approved. The novels were primarily only allowed elaboration, not outright reimagining. In the novelizations, Harry is written to hallucinate much more frequently. He’s often paranoid of the world. His behavior is more erratic. He experiences moments of Cotard’s delusion. His behavior through the third movie goes from likely being inspired by or intended to reference and imply Harry’s comic-canon schizophrenia to, in the novels, being outright written to resemble and follow the symptoms of schizophrenia far more closely. While they very much aren’t the movies, the fact that they were being written from the scripts at the time of the movies release and a lot of the information we have on how they were written does point me towards the idea that while you can’t exactly treat them as above the movies in terms of what’s canon, you can treat them very fairly as auxiliary information in terms of interpreting the intended story.

Additionally, I think they provide a pretty interesting piece of information that also sort of solidifies the idea for me that what Harry’s experiencing is some form of psychosis. Harry only develops these issues after learning Peter is Spider-Man. Not after taking the serum, specifically immediately after learning Peter is Spider-Man. At this point in the story, Peter is Harry’s closest friend and arguably the most important person in Harry’s life. I don’t need to explain that Spider-Man is the exact opposite. It’s likely rather shattering to how Harry perceives reality to realize the most important person in his life is the person he hates the most, and that he’s been lying to him after in Harry’s perception killing his father for multiple years. Psychosis is specifically a break in someone’s grasp on reality. I don’t think it’s that hard for me to believe that a revelation that shattered how Harry perceived reality that severely might risk causing a psychotic episode of some form.

Additionally, it’s the most consistent with how the world and writing of these movies work internally. It’s never really about the fantastical elements narratively—these movies are about people. The internal, human elements of these characters lives are the most emphasized, the supernatural elements are almost always allegorically connected to some aspect of humanity or very human flaws. That’s always what’s emphasized. Narratively, the goblin is representative of Norman’s greed and ego, his conviction that he is superior to others and entitled to power and control. Otto isn’t about the arms, not really, it’s about selfishly motivated ambition even with the best of intentions and turning those motivations into selfless ones. Flint being Sandman is secondary to how poverty has fucked him over, how he’s been forced into crime in his desperation to help his ill daughter. Eddie wasn’t really corrupted by Venom, he was a selfish and self centered man with a massive sense of entitlement to what he wanted who was given the power to do what he wanted. By extension, it makes the most sense that Harry, who’s already defined by trauma, cycles of abuse and identity would be far more connected to the very human idea of mental illness than something far less poignant like inexplicable supernatural elements.

All this to say that when I, guy who’s always going to feel compelled to take doylism and authorial intent into account when doing my analysis, look at all the information that I have, I think it’s very likely that Harry’s comics schizophrenia or hallucinations were on the writer’s minds when they were planning out or writing the scenes I am referring to. I don’t think that was ever likely to end up explicit—it’s not practical for a movie with its demographic, with a studio prone to intervention, especially with how messy SM3’s development was. It’s not practical for it to be super explicit in a movie of its demographic in 2007, but I think it’s very likely to be on the writers minds when it was written.

[progenycursed]

Heya, love your comic! I had a question though, does your PK realise that the impure vessels were fully sentient or does he think they just weren't fully hollow but also not completely alive, for the lack of a better word? I might be wrong, but from what we've seen of him so far it feels like he wouldn't be the type to kill children if he knew they were full on children and not just undead things with a defect?

(Sorry if it came off as rude or anything, I pulled an all nighter so my wording skills died in the ditch, I ADORE your comic though! Can't wait to see more of it 👀 it's so fun)

YES! A chance to lore dump! And proof that I’ve been characterizing decently!

In this AU, I don't image him standing at the top of the abyss, judging every vessel that makes it up with a toss or a take. I’m of the mind that the climb Ghost does in the game is them getting their memories back, so many of them are blurring together and/or symbolic. It wasn’t actually raining dead siblings all the time.

I just have the Pale King waiting for ANY vessel to make it up. The abyss is harsh. I tried to show it in one of Hollow's flashbacks as well as the vessel bios, that many/most of the vessels don't even make it out of the egg. Those that do, have to deal with void pools trying to kill them and even their fallen siblings attacking them. When he isn’t at the top, waiting and compelling them to climb, most of the vessels never bother trying the perilous and pointless climb. They are just trying to survive. So very, very few of them ever make it up to him. When they do, he would just take who shows up.

He granted the ability of higher thought for all within his domain. And with his power of soul and his heightened senses, he can sense all life, movement, and sense any mind. Even fragmented ones or wild animals. So he can sense the smallest forms of life and the most primitive of minds.

With the vessels, he never sensed any of that from any of them. Not even traces or fragmets. Every single one of his senses are telling him the vessels are nothing more than walking corpses. But even corpses have essence. They don't even have that, the traces that it was once alive. The void is his opposite. It is death and darkness. His senses, all non-void beings senses, are not designed to comprehend it. Even though the vessels have minds, no one but other void beings can sense it.

Any time a vessel went wrong, he would rationalize they went rouge for any number of reasons. None of them being that they had a mind. At least not in a way he could feel confident in saying they had one. I’m not sure if I’m showing it well in the comic, but he has his doubts about the vessels being pure. Which is why he made the tests we see in chapter 3. Testing for curiosity, pateience, and pain. Why we see a guest appearance from the White Lady in chapter 5. But he has no solid proof to back up the one instinct he’s desperately trying to push down for this plan to work. Take a guess which instinct it is >:D

So yes! You are correct. By the time the hollow knight plan was started, the Pale King would never throw a living being into the abyss. In fact, he tries his damdest to ensure no one ends up there even by accident. He views the citizen of Hallownest as his children. And while a lot of the community has it where the White Lady is the caring parent and the Pale King is the uncaring/distant one, I view it more the other way around. But that’s a block of text for a different post.

He wasn’t always a good god-king. Especially in the early cycles. Where his complete lack of understanding of mortals lead to many a miserable life and early deaths. He got much better over the cycles when brave mortals were finally willing to tell the all powerful higher being he was wrong about something. He wants them to tell him, he wants to understand them, so he never gets mad when they do, but most are to scared to because he’s a god-king. So he tries to have a least one person around him who is willing to tell him he’s doing something wrong. Earning them the title of the King’s Keepers.

Even now he’s still not the best in many ways. The nuances of mortal social structure are strange and nonsensical to him. Why does it matter what color you wear to an anniversary party? So he can’t always tell what is ‘normal’ for mortals, and what is actual exploitation of others. Everyone within range is given a mind. What specious of bug they are has no effect on intelligence, and if he heard that argument he’d shut that shit down in a second. But he would have to know about it first. A dedicated enough upper class individual could easily stop those voices from ever getting to him. So there are still problems in Hallownest, but only because he doesn’t know about them.

TLDR

He can sense the mind and life force of everything. And has never sensed any mind or signs of life from any vessel, even when they went rouge. He hasn’t always been a good ruler, even now his ruling style has flaws, but he tries to keep his people happy. He would never throw a living being into the abyss, or subject anyone with a mind to containing an angry god for eternity.

And its great to hear people are enjoying my little AU. I also fear I am coming across rude with these replies. I’m always grateful and happy beyond words to get positive feedback, but I have no idea how to respond to it. Because a thank never feels good enough. But I mean it when I say, thank you!

[paranormaljones]

Ok so, for reverse unpopular opinion, MAWS and Stranger Things :).

I genuinely laughed out loud when I saw the second thing in this ask. Evil evil evil 🤣

BUT FIRST WE START WITH MAWS

@dangerously-human BLESS YOU for also asking me about MAwS, I'm gonna do a two-for-one here and tag you in this one (and then answer your other one afterwards)

I'm gonna try to keep my thoughts brief because I'm gonna make an incredibly long post about it later but main points:

I absolutely adore the way MAwS portrays physical and emotional attraction between two adults while balancing both of those aspects of romantic attraction in a way that never makes the viewer feel it's unrealistic or uncomfortable, or like either party is objectifying the other. This is what my long post will largely be about because the way it's done in MAwS feels incredibly rare and valuable.

This has been said by so many other people but I also just adore Clark Kent's character in MAwS. Until now I have never once found myself significantly compelled by any mainstream superhero media besides Megamind. I tried with Marvel and it didn't take. I saw less of DC and didn't really see anything that drew me in, though to be fair I didn't really look. I didn't grow up reading comics and only knew the characters by their stereotypes or their gritty, subversive adaptations that no one likes.

And then I watched MAwS and it changed everything. XD I care about all of it now. I want to know so much more.

I also really really love this adaptation of Lois Lane. I'm really not familiar with the others, but she's such a fun and real-feeling character. She's larger than life and also so down-to-earth when she needs to be. She makes mistakes a lot and does her best to right them, and it's so comforting that she really feels like exactly what she is: a 23-year-old intern with the energy of a caged comet, trying her best to live up to extremely high expectations and her own aspirations. Sometimes that energy goes in the wrong direction, but she is well-intentioned and genuine and really a sweetheart. I love her to death.

I just. ugh. I love them so much. 😭

Okay. Now for part two.

Stranger Things. Can I talk specifically about the first and second seasons? Because those two seasons, for the most part, felt like such a beautiful embodiment of the "love conquers all" trope that we both love. The boys protecting Eleven at the start and doing everything they could to help her, Mike especially doing his best to communicate with her and be a source of safety and comfort for her, and at the end of the first season, her sacrifice to protect all of them. Good gosh. I still can't watch that scene without crying. AND THEN IN THE SECOND SEASON us finding out that Mike tried to reach out into the void for Eleven every single day for 353 days straight?? Destroys me. Utterly. I love Mike so much. (also fun fact, if you add up the digits in 353 it equals 11. i remember binging the second season on the night it came out and screaming to myself about that when it came up.)

I'm gonna throw this link in here because it's one of the best fan edits I've ever seen in my entire life and it encapsulates all of my feelings about Mike and Eleven in season one. I remember watching it over and over again seven years ago and it still brings back all of those emotions. It's so good.

Additional things I love about Stranger Things:

The music. Oh my gosh, the music. The soundtrack from season one is often on repeat in my car. It's freaking beautiful.

Steve. Best freaking redemptive character arc I've ever seen in anything ever. He goes from being perfectly hate-able to someone I would die for in the span of two seasons, and just continues to get better.

Steve's hair. It's great.

It being the reason that we have the infamous "category five woman moment" post about Joyce Byers. I think about it all the time. One of my top five favorite phrases ever.

There are more things but I think I've talked about Stranger Things more than I talked about MAwS at this point, ironically. XD

Thank you both so much for the asks!! These were so fun!! :DDD 💙

[bvckbiter]

Psst psst psst favourite thing to explore in smartwatermagic dynamic?

hm... i think the main thing about this ship that compels me is how each of them deal with their guilt and trauma- it's basically my #1 question to answer when thinking about how they perceive and interact with each other, and from that comes a lot of parallels but also areas where they basically fulfill each other's lack/need.

i think annabeth in particular is a very good example of this; it's well-established in canon that she's faced a lifetime of her most beloved people letting her down (frederick and luke), abandoning her (athena), or ultimately turning her away for something they think is for the better (thalia). this is why she's very territorial of the people she considers as hers, as per chiron, and percy slots in very nicely into that gap with his (purported) flaw of personal loyalty. percy i think with his very human upbringing is a cornerstone for annabeth continuing to believe in family and love.

so you have percy kind of being there to pick annabeth up after the Luke Betrayal (yes, luke is an inextricable pivoting point in this relationship). alabaster as the only remaining living demigod still loyal to the TA's cause throws an interesting wrench in the percabeth dynamic, because if you hc that alabaster was in camp for a reasonably long time and was at some point acquainted/friends with annabeth, then you can have this shred of annabeth's pre-Luke Betrayal past coming back to haunt her, and her having to decide if alabaster's still worth clinging onto. i can imagine annabeth being unable to help herself and getting drawn to al one way or the other, especially with her mindset that her perfect world/life is hers to make. plus also in general the two of them getting more closure about Why Luke Was Like That lmao

percy on the other hand is Fighting His Own Demons because plainly put, i think he's the type of person that tries to ignore problems for as long as he can, especially if he knows that he's the root of the problem (see: Rachel Elizabeth Dare). not out of cowardice, but more of a "this (referring to himself) should not even be a matter thats wasted time on, it (referring to himself) should fix itself." so where he might be anxious over annabaster is also complicated by thoughts of "do i have the right to feel this way, i should try to be understanding." and then on top of that of course is the righteous rage he'd feel for al and his situation... and we all know percy is very protective of people he feels responsible for. (it's an interesting complementary to annabeth's personal/emotional possessiveness wink wink)

meanwhile al here is just. struggling. at large he naturally blames the olympians for his situation; but he's also putting a lot of pressure on himself for failing expectations. he's angry about his exile but also he doesn't treat himself well, almost like a method of self-flagellation. in a weird way, i also think that the expectations he perceives of himself as having failed are almost... imaginary? or exaggerated, because we know from Son of Magic that hecate cares about him simply because he is her son, regardless of what he has accomplished or failed. basically i love alabaster making his internal turmoil more complicated than it really is/has to be; and what better way to self-flagellate into the void of confusion by embracing two of olympus' foremost heroes when they offer it lolololol

this was a longer post than i expected, but oml this was a difficult yet very interesting ask to tackle. smartwatermagic's dynamic is very very very complicated and i dont think i could ever write enough words about it.

[bloodpen-to-paper]

Review Blurbs: Deadpool and Wolverine

Is this late as shit? Yes. Am I sorry? Yes. Is there a point to this part of the post? Probably not.

--General Thoughts--

-If there's one thing Deadpool does best, its their music montage openers. I was jamming out so hard to the "Bye Bye Bye" sequence, it's the best gag of the DP movies imo

-Aspect of the movie I didn't think I'd like as much as I did was the music score. Both the featured songs and most surprisingly the original score were hype (big budget productions like MCU works aren't really known for their soundtracks save for central themes and they haven't been getting me as much since Portals in Endgame, but the LFG theme absolutely fucks). Props to DP for always going out of its way to do fun stuff with the scores like with Holy Shit Balls in DP 2

-It warmed my heart when all the people Wade had met were there for his surprise party. And how he carried their picture and said he only had 9 people in his life but those 9 people were his world. Most emotional part of the movie for me personally

-Bringing in Johnny Storm instead of Cap was fucking genius. When he said "flame on" and shot into the air just like the old days? 10/10 Welcome back Mr. Storm

-I was tweaking the hell out when Elektra, Blade, Gambit and Laura came in omg I don't care if its lazy fan pandering I'm the fan being pandered to and I fucking love character cameos (fuck Twitter for spoiling the Gambit cameo for me but at least the rest were a surprise)

-Blade going "there's only one Blade and will only ever be one" and DP looking straight into the camera... nice (Blade is getting a movie in 2025 for those who didn't know)

-Someone on the Deadpool writer's team really likes Juggernaut. Like really likes Juggernaut. Good for them

-I'm wondering how many people were confused by the appearance of Lady Deadpool (never in all my years did I think we'd get her on the big screen, hell yeah)

-The storyline was more consistent and interesting than I thought it would be, DP fucking around with the TVA and the Void was not something I expected (and him using the "worst" Wolverine to save his timeline was actually really sweet and a compelling plot point for this new Logan)

-The humor was also great, my expectations for Marvel works have been pretty low for a while so this really was an awesome surprise for how much I enjoyed it

-I hate retcons unless there's a really damn good reason so I'm glad they kept that the Logan Wolverine is dead (the bit of DP finding his skeleton and throwing a tantrum was great)

-There were issues with some of the emotional beats but the ones that hit really had that Marvel touch that I've missed, especially when Nova was in Logan's mind and suddenly made the voices in his head cut off into dead silence, I got chills (very Multiverse of Madness-esque, I loved it)

-I've seen people shouting it out and yeah they're right, we finally got practical effects! I'm glad the movie committed to costuming and practical effects instead of CGI (CGI can be great but Marvel has really been lacking). And eventually Wolverine's classic suit actually grew on me, the yellow from him and DP's red compliment each other really well visually (long live the ketchup and mustard duo)

-"You got the wrong guy" "You were always the wrong guy... 'till you weren't" god this line... this is what I expect out of a Wolverine plotline, and it shows how much of an influence Logan had on Laura. This really felt like a love letter to Wolverine

-I love Jennifer Garner and I'm so glad she got to play Elektra and give a proper homage to the character, as well as Tatum's Gambit and the og Blade (you don't understand I am obsessed with this Elektra what is it about Marvel girls in red help me)

-Also adored them getting Wesley Snipes back for Blade to pay him homage, his performance really felt like a man out of time when he played Blade exactly as he did in 1998, and it gave a certain nostalgic feeling even for someone like me who didn't watch the og Blade (I believe the word is "anemoia"). Hard to describe but it felt special, you don't get the chance to pull off something like this in cinema too often and I'm very happy they pulled it off here

-The actors knocked it out of the fucking park. I forgot how much I loved Ryan Reynold's DP since it isn't always comic accurate but holy shit this movie made me fall in love all over again, and Hugh Jackman killed it as always (the scene where he put his head up to Wade's gun was phenomenal). Chris Evans' Johnny Storm was almost jarring from how long its been since he was cemented as Captain America lmao but the man's still got it, Rob Delaney as Mr. Paradox was very fun to watch, Emma Corrin had an insane amount of facial control for Cassandra Nova, and Jennifer Garner actually stole my fucking heart with Elektra

-LAURAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. I love Laura Kinney so much holy shit was I happy to see her here. They did her so well, she's matured a lot and was wise enough to get through to Logan and tell him what he needed to hear, while also being just as aggressively feral in combat as she was in Logan because who is Laura Kinney if not someone who shouts war cries before slicing a dude's ankles off? (and the sunglasses, girl I hadn't even thought about those). The details show how much care they put into paying homage to Laura and doing her justice, probably the best written character in the movie for me next to the literal main characters. She was different, and grown up, but still so Laura, the same rowdy kid we loved in Logan. So happy to see my not-so-little devil child back in action <3

-The car scene.

-Genuinely curious about the increase in search results for the Honda Odyssey and if sales were affected after this movie, if anyone finds that data get back to me

-The scene where Wade meets Dogpool/Mary Puppins and she's licking his mouth and you think he's allowing it cause he's distracted and then a moment later he opens his mouth more and you realize he's very aware there is a dog shoving its tongue in his mouth and he lets it happen cause he's a goddamn freak while keeping eye contact with Nicepool the entire time had me fucking cackling (its some gross humor that hits for me)

-DP introducing Logan all nervously to Blind Al was... an interesting choice. Very heterosexual of them.

-Deadpool throwing in an "I'm genderblind" joke went over so many people's heads

-The credits montage was so damn sweet. For some reason the MCU seems to hate the X-Men and the clips made me feel like the people behind this movie really cared for the old Marvel properties (Elektra, Blade, and especially the X-Men). It got me when they started showing Fantastic Four, X-Men and First Class BTS footage, those were some of the first Marvel movies I ever watched and First Class was what really got me into the X-Men, it made me really happy seeing flashes of it all <3

-The MCU will never be Earth-616 GIVE IT UP FEIGE

--Criticisms--

-Tonally and structurally, the movie was kind of all over the place (not horrifically so, but the structure definitely could've been better). They put a lot of time into character cameos, some of which weren't necessary (sorry Sabretooth)

-Certain emotional moments would abruptly cut off into the next scene and it was very jarring (the moment when DP is pouring his heart to Logan at the TVA felt rushed, as did multiple other moments)

-They ran the meta jokes into the fucking ground, I would've made them more sparse so it didn't lose its flavor. I love a good fourth wall break but they overdid it (DP headbutting the camera and the withered remains of the Fox logo were great bits, but after that the jokes kept happening and it lost its effect)

-Nicepool was... meh. Felt like his bit overstayed its welcome and then I was just bored (though I did laugh at "The Proposal")

-I realize the humor parts that didn't hit for me were when the movie overdid a certain bit, if they kept it in moderation it would've landed better for people who aren't the biggest on DP's style of humor imo. Not all the humor hit for me, but more of it hit than I expected so cheers to that

-Some of the fight choreography felt a bit bland, and others were hard to keep track of cause of how fast-paced it was. Thankfully there were multiple fight scenes and some were great so it wasn't the worst issue, but this is a Marvel action movie so it does stand out to me when its off

-Gambit felt off to me and I think its cause Channing Tatum was so focused on getting the Cajun accent down his acting was a bit stiff, no hate to him cause that shit's hard but its a lesson in how putting on accents can really affect your acting ability (British actors who do other accents have to study and practice for years)

-Cassandra Nova was... interesting. Not sure why Marvel leaned so goddamn hard into the "creepy woman who eerily taunts you" trope because that very much is a trope and it can be very annoying (*cough cough* male writers *cough cough*). She was most fascinating when she acted like an actual person and outside of that she felt very tropey, I would've wanted more personality

-In lieu of the above, I was heavily disappointed with how Cassandra's arc went. When she let DP and Logan go and got the info from Pyro about the Time Rippers, I really thought they were building her up to be a big villain down the line (and we'd see her in other MCU properties, maybe something with Dr. Strange or Wanda, or even a way to introduce more X-Men). She became more morally gray in the second act and I thought we'd have a interesting and complex anti-hero/villain but then they reverted her back to her prior trope and killed her off by the third act. Hugely wasted potential and given how dirty they did Wanda it left a shit taste in my mouth for the MCU's female antagonists (especially considering how well done Sylvie was in Loki)

-Hate how they did Vanessa. Her character motivations were inconsistent from the previous movies, and it felt like the writers didn't know where to go with her and DP yet keep making the them a couple. Vanessa and Wade not lasting because of his immortality is interesting, it could've made for a very impactful lesson on how you need to enjoy what you have and fight for it even if it won't last, with DP finding community among a fellow regenerative hero (Logan), but they just didn't go anywhere with that. And the breakup was meant to be a huge thing for Wade to try and want to be better but it feels unearned when Vanessa just... gets back with him? Cause he saved the world? It's very "get the girl" with no thought to how or why Vanessa would've changed her mind and its fucking annoying. Alternatively, Wade fighting tooth and nail to save Vanessa and her not getting back with him but them rekindling their friendship like Eddie did with Anne in Venom could've been such a great display of men and women bonding despite a lack of romance, but the movie decided to do the most lazy comphet shit possible and give Vanessa no character to make her get back with Wade

-And another thing Wade failing to get into the Avengers because he wanted to keep Vanessa from breaking up with him and Happy not being convinced could've been a phenomenal message on how motivations need to be about wanting better for yourself to do actual good in the world but then it never happened

-Not to mention it pissed me off when the movie made such a stance on how Wade's whole world was his friends and he'd do anything to save them, yet had his entire motivation towards the end being just to save Vanessa (his whole fucking montage when he was getting anti-mattered was about Vanessa and no one else). What happened to Blind Al? Peter? Negasonic and Yukio? Colossus? They just not as important anymore cause they're not a romance option? Fuck off Marvel.

-I noticed the distinct lack of intimacy between Negasonic and Yukio and before anyone whines, no its not necessary to have explicit intimacy for them to be a romantic pairing, but for the love of god use your braincells cause I know for a damn fact they never kiss or anything so its easy for the censorship countries to translate them as just being friends. Disney is goddamn spineless and I swear to god every problem I have with this movie can be traced back to them

-I feel like a Deadpool movie is quite literally the one movie they can afford to make a joke when it comes to you-know-who from the first movie but I'm sure they had their reasons

-Felt like Logan's backstory and guilty complex was built up a lot just to have it be that he wasn't around when the X-Men got killed cause he was drinking, kind of a disappointing payoff (I think it could've worked, just wasn't feeling it much from this execution)

-Would've liked more scenes with Deadpool's loved ones throughout the movie, they had so little screen time it kinda fell flat when they were brought up as motivation for Wade. We're supposed to rely on the previous movies to show us why they matter but even sequels need some basis as a stand-alone, or there would be absolutely no reason to watch it if you haven't watched the others

--Final Thoughts--

Overall, great movie. The issues I had with it didn't take away from my enjoyment, and if anything the reason I have so many criticisms is because I was so invested to begin with. I thoroughly enjoyed it the whole way through, Deadpool and Wolverine was every bit as gimmicky and campy in the best ways that you'd expect from a DP movie, and I'd highly recommend it for anyone that wants a bit of gratuitous action and a good time.

[viscountessevie]

The Buccaneers (2023): American Poison

Hello everyone! I polled my blog's mutuals, friends and followers to see if they'd be interested in me doing reviews for this show and here are the results. Hence I'm here doing full episode reviews - feel free to follow along the tags below if you'd like to see my reviews and other posts for the show! [Spoilers are under the cut]

The Buccaneers Tag | Live Blogging Posts | Review Posts

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The Buccaneers (2023) is an adaptation of Edith Wharton's posthumous novel of the same name, with a contemporary touch to it. Full disclaimer: I have not read the novel yet. I do intend to give it a shot after watching the tv series. Even though I am not a fan of unfinished works, it would be interesting to see how the source material was adapted to our day and age.

Since I am completely new to this story, I will be judging it solely on the tv series. I will also be judging it as a historical romance with a side of societal commentary (the latter of which I understand the original book was about). On this note, American Poison is a pretty great first episode. 

It set up our main characters; Nan, Conchita, Mabel, Lizzie and Jinny well while showcasing both America and the London season of the 1870s era. I found it so refreshing that the story started with a wedding instead of ending in one. It really goes to show that sometimes life really begins after the ‘I Do’. Or rather in the case of our girls, the problems begin to arise. 

Speaking of our character set ups, I really enjoyed watching Conchita the most as you can see in my Live Blogging tag. She is just such a dynamic and interesting character who is so full of life and yet goes through such a harrowing arc (from what I am assuming based on the first episode). Her fairytale ending isn't quite a happy ending. This makes for a really compelling conflict within her character and it is a delight to watch! Even moreso a mere five minutes into the first episode, we already have parallels to Meghan Duchess of Sussex and Prince Harry. I instantly knew that it will not bode well for Connie. I will give the showrunners credit where it is due, they drew the comparisons without hitting us over the head with it. As someone who royal watches H&M, I did like how Connie and Dickie's relationship was portrayed in the first half of the episode.

That brings me to the second half, as I said here, Dick definitely lived up to his nickname. It was heartbreaking to watch Connie be completely void of life after leaving America and moving in with her in-laws. Especially in her vulnerable pregnant state. I related a lot to her isolation and melancholy. It is not a fun place to be in. The way she lit up when her friends came to visit her was truly so heartwarming. Her happiness means everything to be and I hope her situation improves over the course of the series.

Moving onto our 'main' protagonist/narrator: Nan St. George. I will say it. She is a really boring main protagonist. I have no idea how she is like in the book but you can write a 'plain Jane' type character who engages your audience and they are allowed compelling arcs too. But no, Nan gets a love triangle. The most tired romantic trope of our type. Shondaland and other similar romance-drama shows have overused them to the point I want to throw the whole narrative device away!!

Speaking of said triangles, the only time I have enjoyed watching Nan on my screen is when she is with Guy Thwaite who is so charming. He is so likeable that I would certainly let him marry me for my money (jokes on him, me irl is broke as hell ahaha).

I know a few of my friends had complains about him using Nan for her money but I AM EATING IT UP! This is such a common romance trope. The fortune hunter targets the heroine and like the dumbass he is, he falls for her. That creates such a delicious point of conflict for both of them. The heroine has a brief moment of heartbreak because of the betrayal, while the hero has to fight between his head/the original scheme and heart. Truly one of my favourite premises in a HR book!

On the other end of the triangle, we have Theo, who is the dullest man I have ever seen on screen. Sorry to Theo fans but that man is so unoriginal and BORING. [Correction to my previous statement; Theo is tied with Obie from the Gossip Girl reboot as the most boring character ever].

I just found it so grating that he was just another Duke who is tired of the London social season and ambitious mamas & debs alike. Like YOU AREN'T special, Theo, there are a million heroes and actual lords back then who were like this. At least give the audience something interesting about you for us to root for. Sure, we can look to his artist side but this is least artsy man I have ever seen. Lord Cassidy from Mr. Malcolm's List and Benedict Bridgerton from Bton have done this before and much better. So Theo really is the definition of the Duke of Go Give Us Nothing to quote @imaginejolls in these tags.

Enough about the boring people; onto the Elmsworth sisters! So other than Alisha Boe and Josh Dylan as Connie & Dickie respectively, I was VERY excited to see Josie Totah as Mabel. Not only because I've watched Josie since her Disney days but also because SHE'S PLAYING A LESBIAN/WLW!! I just need more queer women in HR and this fulfils it!

There, unfortunately, wasn't enough of the Elmsworth sisters in this episode but I did love what I saw of Lizzy and Mabel so far. I adore Lizzy already - she is gorgeous and definitely deserves more attention on the marriage mart. Mabel is so cute and I am excited to see her romance blossom with Honoria!

Then there's Jinny. Where do I begin? I'll be very honest; I mistook her for Honoria in the trailer with Mabel 🤡 and was excited for her. I was like Yay dumb lesbian rep because come on the "I like her arms" comment to the art piece is so queer coded hahah. Then I saw a gifset of the trailer kiss and realised it was Honoria with Mabel. Anyway Jinny really is your cookie cutter deb and I wanted to see how she'd subvert that. And while I understand her frustrations with Nan getting in the way, that was no reason to completely upend her sister's life. I also saw the looks of contempt she gave Lizzy over the course of the episode. Like Virginia you grew up with that girl, could you be a little less competitive??

Overall, the pilot fulfilled its job. It introduced us to the main girls, set up their upcoming arcs all while painting the different cultures of the Americans who worked their way up to their riches vs the British centuries old aristocracy. I loved how it was shot, edited and the soundtrack was incorporated. Sure, at times there is a modern lens to it but I like how well our times and influences come together with Edith's original vision and storyline. I am excited for the rest of the series! Happy watching everyone and I will see you in my next review :D

[yukidragon]

First off, hello from the void. Second, do you have any wholesome headcanons for Alice and Jack? I crave some fluff and wholesomeness at the moment.

Hello, hello to you too friendo~! 💖

Hohoho, wholesome headcanons of my OTP you say? Why, you just said the magic words~! I think I can scrounge up a nice little warm and fuzzy headcanon or two... dozen.

Really, the only problem will be trying to stop me when I get rolling, if I’m being honest here. Then again, y’all are here to listen to me ramble, so who am I to hold back all the thoughts rattling around in my head? ;3

Ahem, before I begin, I want to say that there may or may not be spoilers for Sunshine in Hell in this post. While I will be keeping some plot points a secret until they’re revealed in writing, I’ve already given a lot of spoilers in past headcanon ramblings, including that I intend to give Jack and Alice a happy ending together. So this is a warning for those who really don’t like spoilers and might be a little chuffed that I already gave away the basic ending to my fic.

Also, I’m going to probably go into NSFW territory in this post. This game is for Adults Only after all and while I’ll be sticking to wholesome and fluffy headcanons, I just can’t help but throw in a bit of spice into this sweet vanilla goodness.

I’m going to  go ahead and plug the Snaccpop Studios patreon ahead of time, since I have a feeling I’m going to use some of Sauce’s lovely art in this post as I ramble on. Remember, don’t repost anything privately posted on patreon, folks. Let’s give Sauce and the Snaccpop Studios crew our support and credit whenever it’s due!

I also feel that I should remind everyone that these are my personal headcanons that I’m applying to my version of the story, so it may or may not totally align with what we’ve seen in either demo so far. I’m dumping extra vanilla sweetness into this horror yandere game and no one can stop me!

So, with all that out of the way, let’s dive into pure OTP indulgence.

Where to begin... I’m probably going to be bouncing all over the place here to wherever my impulses take me. Hmm... Well, let’s start with some warm and fuzzy tidbits from before Alice and Jack officially become a couple, shall we?

Alice has issues being touched by people she doesn’t trust, but she absolutely loves to cuddle those she is comfortable with. Although it does trouble her at first how comfortable she is with Jack right at the start, and she tries to keep her distance out of general common sense and stranger danger... it doesn’t take her long to crave (platonic) physical intimacy with Jack. You can see hints of it in the fic in fact when she reaches out for him first a number of times, holding his hands and even hugging him.

Alice’s love language is physical touch, so hugging, hand holding, and the like is her go-to way of showing affection and comfort to others, as well as receiving the same in return. Much like how Jack craves warmth and love from his sunshine, she has a similar craving. Thanks to the connection between them, she can feel how much he loves her, even if subconsciously, and it draws her to him.

Jack is honestly surprised at how readily Alice is about touching him and showing concern for him even on the first day. Of course he’s super happy about it! How could he not be? It just proves their bond is special, and, well, it really is.

Alice was drawn to Jack because they both have similar wounds. They long to be loved and accepted, not used and taken advantage of. It’s this resonance between them and Alice’s empathetic nature that compelled her to find the tape, and it’s how Jack’s soul could be freed in the first place.

In a way, you could say that these two are soulmates, and it was something they chose to be, even if romance wasn’t the first thing either of them were thinking when they made that connection.

The first time Jack saw Alice clearly was after they made the deal, and it was love at first sight. Because of the connection he could feel so much all at once when she set him free. It was overwhelming and so beautiful. He had never felt anything so wonderful before. How could he not fall in love with the person who made him feel that way?

While Alice does take longer to fall in love with Jack, she does care for him right away. He feels safe, even if she can’t understand why. She has a pretty good sense of whether or not to lower her guard around someone for the most part, but due to past experiences, including with Ian, she’s going to be cautious even when her instincts tell her that he’s not going to hurt her.

Fortunately, Jack is patient. He’s respectful of Alice’s boundaries. He’s fully aware that she’s not in love with him yet, which isn’t exactly pleasant, but he’s willing to wait for her. After all, he agreed to be literally unable to do anything she doesn’t want because he doesn’t want to do anything she doesn’t want him to do.

Yes, that limitation was something they both agreed to during their first encounter. Spoiler, but a huge part of their relationship strongly emphasizes consent, even if Jack is suffering from a lot of yandere impulses and trauma due to everything he’s been through.

This is also a two-way street. Alice can’t do anything Jack doesn’t want her to do. If he didn’t want her to touch him, she couldn’t even if she wanted it.

Fortunately they both want it. It won’t be long before the two of them are having cuddle time on the sofa watching TV. While making out isn’t going to happen for quite a while, there is going to be plenty of physical affection. Jack craves Alice’s touch, and Alice is reassured by touch, so she reaches out to him unthinkingly despite being overall a pretty shy person.

Of course, if someone else touches Alice and they’re not someone she has that sort of trust/familiarity/comfort with... that’s a whole lot of do not want. It’s a good thing Jack is very aware of anyone who gets close to her, and he’s going to help her escape such uncomfortable situations. Such methods range from warning her that someone is getting too close, gently nudging her away from them, or even using his supernatural nature when his power gets a bit stronger, and he can make these sort of people go away for her. With her consent of course~

So even before Alice and Jack get together, expect hand holding, hugs, and nose boops.

I mean, come on. How can Alice not boop this cute little button nose of his? Especially when Sauce draws it so adorably boopable like this. It’s painted like a target and everything. Sooner or later, Jack is getting booped.

Also, Alice is going to play with that magnificent mullet of his. His hair is way too fluffy and inviting not to, and his hair is as soft as it looks. Don’t worry, she’ll let Jack play with her hair too. Fair is fair after all~ He quite enjoys playing with her hair too. He thinks it’s like a cotton candy cloud.

Jack, being considerate, is doing his best to let Alice take the lead when it comes to how fast the relationship goes. Sure, he’s going to be pining for quite a while, and he’s going to need to work off that unwanted horny energy with some late night alone time, but it’s worth it to make sure that they’re both comfortable and happy.

This means Alice is going to be making the first moves for the most part in their relationship. Naturally, Jack is going to do his best to encourage her to make those steps, but gently. Of course there will be moments where he missteps due to fear and a bit of impatience, but for the most part Alice isn’t going to give Jack reasons to feel afraid that he’s losing her.

A bit of a spoiler, but their first kiss is going to be a little different than it plays out in the demo. It’s also going to have a very unconventional wingman... or wing-bunny should I say?

I really need to color this picture of Honey Bunny sometime. I also need to draw her again. And Alice. And Jack. And maybe the three of them in this scene I really need to write out...

Ahem, getting back on track...

Alice isn’t the type of person who kisses someone without it meaning something, so this really is when her relationship with Jack changes from friends to partners. I won’t spoil how Nick factors into things with their relationship upgrade, but I will say that I’m tweaking the timeline of events a bit to go with the slow burn.

Sex isn’t going to come immediately after they get together. As much as Jack would love that, and despite how things progress quickly in the vampire AU, Alice needs to take it slow. Their physical intimacy is going to be a gradual increase before they go all the way (well, gradual except for one moment that I won’t spoil). Sadly, she has some issues and trauma when it comes to sex.

Fortunately, Jack is okay with taking things slowly on that front, even if his libido is really high. While sex would be a huge source of reassurance for him, and a strong physical connection between them, Alice makes up for it by reassuring him in other ways. It’s how he was able to hold back and let her take the lead in the relationship for so long. She’s considerate and affectionate, and cuddling her feels so warm that he can just be satisfied with that, even if his thoughts and feelings get overly excited sometimes.

It is going to make things a bit more of a challenge for Jack. One minute he and Alice are kissing, getting hot and heavy, then that excitement makes things hard to for him to hold himself down. It’s going to be quite embarrassing for both of them~

Not that Jack didn’t get awkward boners before they got together, but he was able to hide it better when Alice wasn’t splayed on top of him with their bodies grinding together hot and heavy.

Jack leans towards dominant, and Alice leans towards submissive. That doesn’t mean that she’s going to just let him take all control. While a dom takes charge, it’s the sub that outlines the hard limits to things. A good partner checks in with the other, and Alice really appreciates that Jack makes sure she’s okay with things.

More than that, Jack makes sure Alice isn’t just doing things to please him or because she’s scared that she’s going to lose him and pressure herself to go too far past her comfort zone. It would be so easy for him to give in to his yandere urges and lust to just go further than she’s ready to satisfy his own desires, but he won’t do anything she doesn’t wholeheartedly want. He loves her too much to risk hurting her.

Likewise, Alice won’t push Jack into crossing lines that are too much for him. His past is going to cause trauma triggers. While she wants to learn more and knows it’s probably important that they do, much like how Jack is patient when it comes to Alice opening her heart to love and physical intimacy, she’s going to be patient with him opening up about the parts of him that he’s tried to bury even from himself.

Alice is going to help Jack come to terms with his past and broaden his world. It won’t be just her he can interact with. She helps him make friends with Shaun. She’s going to introduce him to her family, even if indirectly. She’s going to help him feel more human despite everything that’s happened to him.

Of course, their relationship isn’t going to exactly be normal due to Jack being a ghost(?) That doesn’t mean Alice won’t go out of her way to help her boyfriend feel special, like dressing up for date nights, even if they’re not going to leave the apartment.

Yet another picture I need to color and/or redraw. Really, I need to draw Jack’s reaction to Alice all dolled up like this. From hoodies to fishnet stockings - Jack is in for a treat.

Oh, and speaking of treats, Alice is the type of girl to give her partner flowers, no matter their orientation. Sadly, Jack isn’t going to make it easy for her to surprise him with his favorite flowers since he likes all sorts of flowers and doesn’t have a favorite. Still, that doesn’t mean she can’t give him her favorites - blue roses are very meaningful to her, and she finds them to be very fitting to give to her blue beaux.

Needless to say, Jack is quite stunned the first time Alice surprises him with a bouquet of flowers. It was the first time anyone ever gave him flowers (that he’s aware of. He wasn’t exactly in any state to see the funeral flowers gifted in his memory, sadly.)

It’s quite the shock for a guy like him to be given flowers. Jack is from the 80s, when things were a lot less progressive than they are now. Even in the modern era it’s rare for guys to get flowers, and even rarer for a girl to gift a guy flowers instead of expecting the other way around.

Overall, Jack is pretty floored by how much effort Alice puts into their first date. It really makes things feel real between them. He feels more real as a result. It touches him deeply that she wants him to feel just as special as he makes her feel all the time.

Of course, Jack puts effort into making their dates special as well. It’s only fair that he dresses up too. Gifts are a bit trickier, but something tells me that he’ll figure out a way to surprise her with a thoughtful gift or two.

The pair have a tendency to want to spoil each other. Jack helps encourage Alice to care about herself more, and she does the same for him. They both easily get caught up in feeling like they need to do more, give more, and focus on themselves less. Because of this, they soon learn how to catch the other when they’re giving too much. It’s all about healthy moderation after all.

Jack encourages Alice to leave the house more and do more things. While crowded places make things a bit more difficult to be affectionate like normal couples, after a while they learn how to work around Jack’s situation. It’s a lot easier for him to snuggle up with Alice when he’s free to initiate the touches while she just has to pretend nothing is happening.

Of course, this does lead to a plethora of spicy possibilities. Alice doesn’t want to have to worry about other people when getting intimate, while Jack is quite the shameless exhibitionist at times. Again, it’s all about balance... and making sure that no one catches them doing some questionable things in public spaces.

While it might take a bit to get there, Alice and Jack are going to eventually make love. Once that happens, hoooo... Jack is going to have a lot of fun encouraging his sunshine to make it a daily occurrence. With his high libido and how attentive he is to her needs, Alice soon finds herself craving sex with him far more than she could have ever expected.

Jack isn’t satisfied with making Alice cum only once every time they make love. He’s addicted to seeing her pleasured expressions, watching her writhe under his touch, and screaming his name. He wants to make her just as addicted to him as he is to her.

Of course, Alice wants to make sure to return the favor. It’s only fair after all~

While Jack is more verbal with his praise, Alice struggles with her words a lot. She shows her affection through touch and action more often. Sometimes this comes in the form of drawing hearts on his body, including while she’s showing her love for him in other ways, as shown in this writing blurb I posted not too long ago.

Speaking of drawing, Alice is an artist. She’s going to draw Jack. She’s also going to draw on him with more than just her finger. Body paints can be quite fun to play with, especially if they’re edible. Once she’s more comfortable with their sexual intimacy, she might get creative enough to, say, draw some stripes in creative places~

Here’s a spicy example of what sort of fun Alice could have painting on Jack. This lovely NSFW picture was drawn by my friend @okamiliqueur, and the idea of those primary colored stripes on Jack’s excitement was inspired by my other friend @lazybearzlol2.

Of course, Alice is sure to draw other things in other places. She’s quite the creative artist and Jack provides her with a beautiful canvas to paint on. He is also quite the muse. His praise for her work certainly encourages her to draw on him even more.

Oh, but don’t worry, Jack is going to make sure to make sure to return the favor by paying extra close attention to her body as well.

Sadly, Alice doesn’t believe that she’s attractive, but Jack just can’t let her keep believing that lie, can he? What kind of friend and partner would he be if he didn’t show her just how beautiful and special she is in his eyes? This leads to a lot of moments where he reassures her and shows her just how beautiful she is, both inside and out.

Of course, Jack helps Alice with her self-esteem before they get together, and even before they get intimate. However, once she’s given him permission to touch her body as much as he likes, that gives him more opportunities to help her see how wonderful every inch of her is. It’s a bit of a teaching moment, where he encourages her to look in the mirror and say something she likes about herself. It’s a lot of fun for both of them when he uses his hands to focus her attention on certain parts of her body in particular, like in this very smutty picture I drew a while back.

Sadly, tumblr won’t allow for the full thing here, but you can hop on over to my twitter to check it out if you haven’t already.

It’s hard for Alice not to appreciate a part of any part of her body that Jack can make feel so good with his touches and kisses. Her weight is no problem for him; he can easily lift her and support her without worries that she’s going to accidentally hurt him. His strength and resilience helps her feel a little more confident with her size, and it’s impossible not to feel beautiful when he goes out of his way to make sure she can feel just how much he loves every inch of her.

You know, I’ve realized I’m focusing less on the wholesome part of the fluff and spent more time in the spicy part of fluff. Oops? Well, let’s jump to a couple more safe for work headcanons before we wrap things up.

Alice likes to bake desserts. It’s going to be a fun activity she and Jack do together sometimes. Sometimes they divide the cooking for meals - he takes care of the main course and she makes them dessert. Often times Jack wants to add Alice’s flavor to any dish she’s made though and not just with yogurt.

...I’m getting back into spice again. It’s hard not to when Jack is a horny, horny man, and he is going to encourage Alice to enjoy sex more.

Okay, okay... let’s try to rattle off a few more SFW and wholesome fluffy headcanons rapid fire.

Alice loves good puns, especially if they’re cleverly delivered. She also knows that a good pun is made even funnier when someone acts like they are the worst thing in the world imaginable and a betrayal of language. This leads to the two of them having playful banter at times that eventually leaves them both in a fitful heap of giggles.

Jack does wonders in helping Alice relax more and be more playful. He helps her act silly hamming it up as a yogurt god, starting a pillow fight, or even playing a “childish” game or two. Jack certainly would enjoy a good game of tag or hide-ahd-seek, especially if they put a bit of spice to it...

...No, nope, stick to SFW. Stick to SFW.

Though I will say that Jack’s fantasy from chapter 6 of chasing Alice around is going to happen eventually. Don’t worry, it’s going to be just as much fun as he imagined~

Anyway, back to SFW stuff they do together... Movie nights. They both love films and TV shows, and Jack has a lot of stuff to catch up on. Alice finds it so much fun watching him react to some of her favorite movies. There’s so much stuff that’s new to him, and it’s so much fun to show him new things. It makes her feel almost like she’s experiencing it again for the first time as well. Even before they get together, a lot of evenings are spent with the two of them cuddled up on the couch watching TV and sometimes making commentary. Even bad movies are fun when they crack jokes together.

Even watching movies in theaters can be pretty fun together. The best part is they only have to buy one ticket. If they sit in the back, no one will even notice Jack taking advantage of the dark room to indulge in his exhibitionist kink.

Aaaaaand we’re back to NSFW headcanons. I blame Jack for that. He really is going to take every opportunity he can to make love to Alice, and she certainly isn’t going to complain. He makes her feel so desirable, precious, and irreplaceable in a way that she never felt before with anyone.

Perhaps it might be safe to say that Jack’s primary love language isn’t acts of service or words of affirmation, but physical touch as well. Either that or it’s just because he’s incredibly pent up after 40 years of being trapped in hell, and it’s going to take him a while to level out, if he ever does. Either way, he’ll certainly show Alice a lot of love~!

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur  

[vampireshaman]

Haeseol Kim | In The Name Of Love (3 Journals, 5 Scenes, 1 Character Analysis)

content warning: long post, themes of body horror, injuries, violence, blood, hell, death

Haeseol’s Journal

Love isn’t just about the beautiful moments, the warmth of touch, or the sound of his voice when he whispers my name. Love is survival. It’s war. It’s holding onto someone so tightly that even hell itself can’t pry them from your grasp.

If Taejun ever fell, I would fall with him—without a second thought. No hesitation, no fear. Just the unwavering need to be where he is, to share whatever burden the world throws his way. I don’t care how dark the road is. I don’t care if every step burns. If he’s suffering, I won’t leave him to endure it alone.

Because life without him isn’t life. It’s torment. It’s an empty, endless void where every day feels like dragging my soul across jagged glass. I’ve lived without him once, and the ache of that absence was worse than any hellfire. Never again. I refuse to let him carry his pain alone. If the world tries to take him from me, I’ll follow him.

But gods help anything that tries to keep me from him. Because I’m not just the kind of woman who stays by his side through the darkness. I am the kind of woman who will tear through that darkness to find him.

If hell dares to swallow him, I’ll dive in after him. I’ll claw through every demon, burn through every shadow, and destroy whatever force thinks it can keep us apart. They’ll learn what a mistake it is to take him from me.

Because Taejun isn’t just someone I love—he is my anchor, my other half, my soulmate, my everything. Without him, there is no light, no direction, only chaos. I will fight anyone—gods, demons, or fate itself—to bring him back.

We don’t get lost in love, not the way people say. We fight for it. Every day. And if that fight takes me through hell, then so be it. I’ve made my peace with that. I’ll suffer any wound, bear any scar, so long as it means he’s in my arms again.

The world may try to break him, to crush him under its weight, but it will never succeed. Because as long as I have breath in my lungs, I will not let him fall.

And if he does, I’ll catch him. Every time. And if I can’t? I’ll come for him. Even if I have to tear down the gates of hell brick by brick.

He’s worth that. He’s worth everything.

And whatever storm is waiting for us—whatever demons, gods, or fate throw in our way—well...

They’ll wish they never crossed me.

### Analysis of Haeseol’s Journal

Haeseol’s journal is an intense and emotionally charged reflection of a love that transcends ordinary human boundaries. It paints her connection with Taejun as both a blessing and a burden, with their separation leaving deep scars that haunt her. What makes this entry so compelling is the way Haeseol intertwines love with suffering, resilience, and hellish imagery, portraying her devotion not as a passive affection but as a relentless battle against fate, demons—both literal and metaphorical—and the forces that try to keep them apart.

### 1. Love as Survival, War, and Hell

For Haeseol, love is not just something beautiful or romantic—it is survival. But unlike other relationships where love brings peace, Haeseol’s love for Taejun is also war. It’s a fight against the forces that would tear them apart, and she embraces this fight willingly. The idea of “hell” here operates on multiple levels. Being separated from Taejun feels like hell for Haeseol, but she is also willing to journey into literal or emotional hell to bring him back.

Quote: "If Taejun ever fell, I would fall with him—without a second thought."

This line establishes Haeseol’s willingness to accompany him even into the darkest places, underscoring her belief that love is not about comfort but about shared burdens. In this view, love is both a battlefield and a refuge—it is a place where they suffer together but also where they find strength to fight.

Hell as Metaphor: Haeseol equates life without Taejun to hell, suggesting that separation brings unbearable emotional torment.

Hell as Reality: There’s also an implication that she is prepared to confront literal supernatural forces—demons, gods, fate—if they stand between her and Taejun. The way she speaks of “tearing through shadowed corners” and “dragging him back” suggests she envisions herself as a warrior who will fight her way out of any inferno to be with him.

### 2. Relentless Devotion and Sacrificial Love

Haeseol’s love is marked by relentless devotion. She doesn’t just love Taejun; she worships him in a way that makes their relationship a cornerstone of her existence. What makes this journal entry even more poignant is the undercurrent of sacrifice woven through her words. She acknowledges that love with Taejun isn’t easy, but that difficulty only strengthens her resolve. In fact, it’s the very struggle—their time apart, the potential of losing him—that proves how much she values him.

Quote: “If I have to tear through every shadowed corner, break every chain, and rip apart anything that dares keep him from me, I will.”

This imagery reflects her willingness to go to extremes—both emotionally and physically—to fight for their relationship. She does not merely express a desire to be with Taejun; she positions herself as someone who will actively battle any obstacle that threatens their connection, even if that obstacle is hell itself.

Sacrifice as Power: Haeseol’s sacrifice is not framed as weakness or submission; rather, it gives her strength. The idea that she will endure hell for Taejun is both a declaration of love and a statement of her personal power—she chooses this struggle because he is worth it.

### 3. Emotional Dependency and Identity

The journal also hints at Haeseol’s emotional dependency on Taejun. She describes him as essential to her existence, to the point where being without him feels like suffocation. This dependency isn’t portrayed negatively—it reflects the depth of her attachment. Taejun is not just someone she loves; he is the air she breathes, the grounding force in her life. This suggests that her sense of identity and stability are deeply intertwined with their relationship.

Quote: “Taejun isn’t just someone I love—he’s the very air I breathe. The beat of my heart. My home.”

These metaphors highlight the existential weight Taejun holds in her life. For Haeseol, being with Taejun is not just a desire—it is a necessity. This suggests that her love for him operates on a deeper level, one that borders on spiritual or metaphysical connection.

At the same time, the journal suggests that being apart from Taejun created a wound that never healed. The years without him were not just lonely—they were a torment that reshaped her emotionally. This emotional trauma has left her desperate to avoid any future separation, fueling her determination to fight through hell if necessary.

### 4. Haeseol as Protector and Warrior

One of the most striking aspects of the journal is the way it portrays Haeseol as both a protector and a warrior. She is not waiting to be saved—she is the one who will fight to save Taejun. This subverts traditional gender roles, positioning Haeseol as the active force in their relationship. Her love is not passive or gentle; it is fierce and unyielding. She is ready to confront demons, chains, and shadows—literal or emotional—to bring him back.

Quote: “I’ll drag him back with my bare hands if I have to. I’ll make hell itself tremble.”

This line reflects Haeseol’s defiance and strength. It’s not just about her willingness to endure suffering—it’s about her power to confront and overcome anything that stands between them. The mention of hell trembling at her determination suggests that her love is so strong it can shake even the most immovable forces.

### 5. Duality of Tenderness and Ferocity

Another compelling aspect of Haeseol’s journal is the interplay between tenderness and ferocity. While much of her writing focuses on fighting through hell and enduring suffering, there are also moments of deep vulnerability. She doesn’t just want to rescue Taejun—she wants to hold him, to be close to him, to feel the comfort of his presence.

Quote: “He’s the light in the darkest night and the calm after every storm.”

This duality reflects the complexity of Haeseol’s character. She is both a fierce warrior and a tender lover. Her love for Taejun is not just about strength—it is also about finding peace and comfort in each other. This balance makes her devotion feel more authentic, showing that love is not just about fighting but also about healing and connection.

### 6. Rebellion Against Fate and Divine Forces

Haeseol’s journal also carries an undercurrent of rebellion. She refuses to accept the idea that fate, gods, or any external force can dictate their love. Her defiance is not just aimed at hell—it is aimed at anything that tries to separate them. This rejection of fate suggests that Haeseol believes love is something they must create and protect for themselves, not something bestowed upon them by divine will.

Quote: “I won’t let gods, demons, or fate keep us apart.”

This line underscores Haeseol’s belief in agency and choice. She refuses to be a passive participant in her own life or love story. Instead, she asserts her power to shape her own destiny, no matter the cost.

### Conclusion: A Love That Defies Hell Itself

Haeseol’s journal portrays a love that is raw, consuming, and fiercely determined. Her connection with Taejun is not just an emotional bond—it is a lifeline, a reason to keep fighting. The imagery of hell emphasizes the depth of her devotion, showing that she is willing to confront any force, no matter how dark or terrifying, to be with him.

At the heart of this journal is the idea that love is both a battle and a refuge. It is something that must be fought for, but it is also a place of healing and comfort. Haeseol’s willingness to fight through hell for Taejun reflects not only her strength but also the depth of her emotional need. For Haeseol, love is not just about being with someone—it is about belonging to them, no matter what obstacles stand in their way.

This journal captures the essence of a love that transcends ordinary limits. Haeseol is not just someone who loves deeply—she is someone who loves relentlessly. Her devotion to Taejun is unbreakable, defying fate, gods, and even hell itself. And in the end, her message is clear: she will never leave him to suffer alone, no matter what forces try to keep them apart.

Scene: Into Hell

The air cracked with the stench of sulfur and blood as Haeseol plunged through the jagged, gaping rift into hell. Heat clawed at her skin, suffocating and relentless, and the screams of tormented souls echoed like a twisted symphony of agony. The world below was a labyrinth of stone spires, rivers of molten iron, and shadowed beasts slithering through the dark. Every step of the descent felt like a challenge—a reminder that hell wasn’t a place you entered lightly, nor left easily. But Haeseol didn’t hesitate. She knew Taejun was here. And she was going to drag him out, no matter the cost.

The instant she landed on the jagged obsidian floor, the impact jarred her knees, sending pain lancing through her legs. Her ankle twisted awkwardly, but it set itself with a sickening snap before she could even register the injury. Blood welled from her palms where she’d caught herself, but the wounds were already knitting back together, her chiropteran nature surging through her veins with feral precision.

She stood, ignoring the trembling of her limbs. There was no time to rest. Taejun was somewhere in this nightmare, suffering. And she would not let him endure it alone.

A mass of writhing demons scuttled across the walls, their claws clicking in anticipation of fresh prey. They smelled her humanity, the warmth of life like blood in the water. They swarmed closer, a grotesque collection of fanged mouths, gnarled limbs, and eyes gleaming with hunger. But Haeseol was ready.

She raised her bow, Yueliang’s ancient green wood gleaming with ghostly light. Her white lotus arrows formed in her grasp, their shafts glowing with the purity of moonlight. As she nocked the first arrow, a pulse of energy surged through her—powerful, sacred, and unyielding. The memory of Yueliang guided her hands.

The moon cuts through the deepest night. And so shall I.

She released the arrow.

The shaft tore through the closest demon with a wet squelch, burning a path through its chest and pinning it to the wall behind it. The creature convulsed, its body dissolving into cinders, leaving only a smear of ash and bone behind. The arrow did not stop. It shot through three more demons in rapid succession, each howling in agony as their flesh ignited, blackened veins glowing beneath their charred skin. They burned as though doused in holy fire, their forms reduced to smoke and embers.

The rest hesitated, hissing and circling like vultures unwilling to approach the blazing light she wielded.

Haeseol grinned, a fierce glint in her dark eyes. "Come closer. I dare you."

With a feral snarl, one lunged at her from the side. She pivoted, an arrow already nocked and drawn. It shot through the demon’s open mouth and exploded out the back of its skull, searing the creature from within. Its body twitched, the charred bones snapping under their own weight as it crumbled to dust.

More demons poured from the cracks in the walls—huge, twisted creatures with jagged wings, mouths that stretched too wide, and bodies stitched from shadows and muscle. Haeseol moved like a dancer, loosing arrow after arrow with deadly precision. The projectiles impaled demons to the ground, burned through their skulls, and shattered through stone. Some fell screaming, others disintegrated mid-lunge, their bodies unable to withstand the purifying power of her arrows.

And though the moon’s radiance lit her path through the darkness. Hell fought back.

A taloned hand lashed out from the shadows, slashing across Haeseol’s ribs. She grunted as the claws ripped through skin and muscle, hot blood spilling down her side. She staggered but didn’t stop. Her breath came in sharp gasps, but the wound closed within seconds, flesh knitting back together with inhuman speed. The pain lingered, a reminder that even her supernatural healing had limits. She wiped the blood from her side, baring her teeth.

The demons pressed harder, desperate to overwhelm her. One sank its claws into her shoulder, ripping through tendon. Another lunged at her leg, biting deep into her thigh. Haeseol snarled, wrenching free and kicking the creature in the face, her arrows flying even as her blood dripped onto the scorched ground. Pain meant nothing. Survival was everything. Taejun was waiting for her.

And then she saw him.

Taejun’s body lay broken at the far end of the cavern, tangled in chains that glowed with infernal runes. His once-proud frame was gaunt, his skin ashen, covered in jagged cuts and bruises. Black veins webbed across his chest, the telltale signs of demonic corruption creeping toward his heart. Blood dripped from the corners of his cracked lips, staining the stone beneath him. His right arm hung at an unnatural angle, and his ribs jutted sharply beneath his torn clothing.

He looked dead—but Haeseol knew better. She felt the faint pulse of his soul, flickering like a candle struggling against the wind.

"Taejun..." Her voice cracked, but she kept moving. She wasn’t going to let this be the end.

A massive demon, easily twice her size, stepped between her and Taejun’s broken form. Its grotesque face twisted into a grin as it unfurled blackened wings, blocking her path.

Haeseol took a deep breath, nocking three arrows at once.

“Move.”

The demon roared in defiance, raising a spiked club to crush her. But before it could swing, Haeseol released the arrows. They struck the demon’s chest in a blinding flash of white fire, blasting through muscle and bone. The force of the impact threw it back, pinning it to the wall. It screamed, its body burning from the inside out, ash spilling from its gaping wounds as it crumbled to dust.

She didn’t wait for the smoke to clear. She sprinted toward Taejun, sliding to her knees beside him.

“Taejun! Taejun, wake up!” She pressed her hands against his cold skin, her heart pounding against her ribs.

The demonic corruption pulsed beneath his skin, writhing like a parasite. Haeseol gritted her teeth, summoning a power that burned in her veins. Her hands glowed with moonlight, and she pressed them against his chest. A white light surged from her palms, searing through the darkness that had invaded his body.

Taejun gasped, arching his back as the light burned away the corruption. The black veins retreated, smoking as they dissolved under the purifying power flowing from her palms. Haeseol kept her hands steady, even as sweat dripped down her face and her limbs shook from the effort.

“Stay with me, Taejun,” she whispered, her voice fierce and desperate. “You’re not leaving me. Not like this.”

Slowly, painfully, Taejun’s breathing evened out. His eyelids fluttered, and a faint groan escaped his lips. Relief flooded Haeseol, but she knew they weren’t safe yet. The shadows still lurked around them, hungry and waiting.

She hauled Taejun’s limp body into her arms, slinging him over her shoulder with a grunt. Every muscle in her body screamed in protest, but she ignored the pain. She stood, bow still in hand, and faced the horde of demons gathering at the edges of the cavern.

Her arrows gleamed with moonlight, ready to strike. The path back would be just as brutal as the one that brought her here. But Haeseol smiled, her gaze burning with defiance.

"Come on," she whispered to the darkness. "I dare you to try and stop me."

And with Taejun held close against her, she stepped forward—ready to tear through every shadow that dared stand between them and freedom.

Scene: A Small Refuge

The rock walls oozed with thick, tarry bile that dripped in uneven intervals, hissing on the ground. The air burned as Haeseol dragged Tae-Jun’s limp body through the narrow crack she’d found, her muscles trembling from exhaustion but refusing to fail her. Her boots slipped on the jagged surface, but she held on, every movement careful and deliberate. The dim, reddish light of hell barely reached this cramped shelter, leaving them swallowed in shadows thick enough to suffocate.

She laid Tae-Jun down as gently as she could against the cold stone, wincing at the sight of his broken body. His face was pale and slick with sweat, his blackened veins snaking under his skin like something vile crawling beneath the surface. His ribs jutted out sharply, and the gash on his shoulder, though bandaged, still seeped dark blood, mixing with the residual corruption. He shivered violently despite the oppressive heat of their surroundings.

Haeseol knelt beside him, brushing damp strands of hair from his forehead. “Hang in there, idiot. I didn’t drag you this far just to let you die.”

Tae-Jun didn’t stir. His breath, shallow and ragged, rattled in his chest. She leaned down, listening carefully to the fragile rhythm of it, every inhale a small victory. He was alive—for now. But hell had a way of stealing things right from your grasp, and Haeseol wasn’t going to let it take him. Not without a fight.

Her hands trembled as she pulled her bow from her back, running her fingers along the string to check for damage. Each arrow she carried was etched with sigils of purification, their wood smooth under her touch, but even with their power, she knew they wouldn’t last forever. And neither would she.

The wounds across her body throbbed, demanding attention. A jagged cut along her thigh bled freely, soaking her pants and staining the ground beneath her. A deep gash on her arm pulsed in time with her heartbeat. Her body tried to knit itself back together—she could feel the prickling sensation of her Chiropteran blood at work—but the healing was slow, hindered by the sheer weight of hell pressing down on her.

She gritted her teeth, tearing a strip from her sleeve and wrapping it tightly around her arm. Blood seeped through the fabric almost instantly, but she tied it off and ignored the sharp pain. There was no room for weakness here.

As she worked, a familiar voice whispered at the edges of her mind—a voice she hadn’t heard in years.

"Haeseol."

That was her grandmother's voice.

It was soft, familiar, carrying the warmth of late-night prayers and the scent of burning incense. But there was something wrong. The edges of the voice felt warped, stretched thin by the malice that hung heavy in the air.

“Don’t,” Haeseol whispered, her voice cracking. She pressed her hands against her temples, willing the sound away. But the voice persisted, wrapping around her like smoke.

"You’ve come so far, child," it murmured, a shadow of the real affection her grandmother once held. "Just a little more. Give in, and all this pain will end."

Haeseol squeezed her eyes shut, her nails digging into her palms. “You’re not her.”

The presence laughed softly, a sound that slid like oil under her skin. "No? But you carry her inside you, don’t you? Every curse, every wound, every ounce of rage. She gave them all to you. Out of love."

Haeseol’s breath hitched. That much was true. Halmeoni had given her everything—sight, strength, even her life. And Haeseol loved her for it, even knowing the darkness her grandmother had embraced. The terrible bargains she had struck, the blood spilled to keep their family alive during the hardest years. Haeseol had inherited it all—the good and the terrible.

But she would not let that darkness control her. Not here. Not now.

Her eyes snapped open, and she grabbed one of her arrows. The etched sigils glowed faintly under her touch, responding to the flare of her spiritual power. “I know who I am,” she whispered, more to herself than to the presence.

She turned her gaze toward the narrow opening where the demons still lurked, waiting. Their claws scraped against the rock, their guttural growls vibrating in the air. They knew she was weak, bleeding, running low on time and options. They were waiting for her to falter.

She nocked the arrow, drawing the string back with steady hands. Her wounds screamed in protest, and her muscles trembled under the strain, but she didn’t care.

When she released the arrow, it sliced through the darkness, its purifying magic igniting the air. The demons howled as it struck, burning through their flesh, reducing them to nothing but smoke and ash.

Haeseol didn’t stop to savor the small victory. She grabbed another arrow and pressed it into the ground, carving a sigil of protection around herself and Tae-Jun. The magic hummed under her fingertips, a soft reminder that as long as she could draw breath, she would fight.

She slumped against the wall, her breath ragged, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her. But there was no room for rest—not yet. Tae-Jun needed her. And if they were going to survive this, she needed a plan.

For now, they had a moment of peace. However brief. She allowed herself that much.

With shaking hands, Haeseol pulled a small notebook from her coat—one she had carried with her since she was a teenager. Flipping to a blank page, she let her thoughts spill out, writing with swift, sharp strokes. She had always written when her mind felt too heavy, when the weight of the world threatened to crush her.

And right now, trapped in hell with nothing but her stubbornness and a handful of arrows, she needed every ounce of clarity she could find.

"One way or another," she scrawled, "we’re getting out of this place."

She glanced at Tae-Jun, her jaw tightening.

"If hell wants us, it’ll have to drag us both back screaming."

With that final thought, Haeseol tucked the notebook away, gripped her bow tightly, and waited for the next fight to find her.

Journal Entry: Haeseol

I don’t know how long we’ve been here. Time bleeds differently in hell—it stretches and folds in on itself like skin sloughing off a wound that won’t close. The air stinks of burnt flesh, and every breath tastes like ash. I can’t tell if the pounding in my chest is my heartbeat or the sound of the damned wailing beneath us. Both, maybe.

Tae-Jun is unconscious next to me, breathing shallow but steady. That’s the only thing keeping me sane right now—those soft, fragile breaths. He’s alive. Barely. But alive. I’ve cleaned the worst of his wounds, though the scars won’t matter if I can’t find a way out. The corruption still lingers under his skin, curling through his veins like poison that refuses to die. It’s weakening, burning away slowly from my purification, but not fast enough. Hell isn’t a place that lets go easily.

I killed everything that came near us—at least, I thought I did. I can still hear them skittering through the walls, gnashing their teeth just out of sight. They’re waiting for me to make a mistake, for my hands to falter or for my arrows to miss their mark. I won’t give them the satisfaction. I can’t.

Tae-Jun’s body was a ruin when I found him. They left him in chains, broken and bleeding, as if they wanted him to rot slowly, piece by piece. His ribs were nearly poking through his skin, and his arm... I had to force it back into place. I heard the bones snap as I did it. I think I screamed louder than he did, even though he was unconscious. I never realized how hard it would be to keep someone alive when everything around you wants them dead.

I thought finding him would bring relief, but it only made things harder. It’s not just about keeping myself alive anymore—now I have to keep him alive, too. And it feels like everything I do, every step I take, puts us closer to death.

The worst part? I don’t know if I’ll make it out of here. Hell keeps wearing me down in ways I didn’t expect. My body heals fast, but not fast enough. Every fight leaves something behind—a scar, a bruise, a part of me that won’t ever come back. I can feel it draining me little by little. I’ve been bleeding more than usual. The cuts close, sure, but they reopen too easily, and the pain stays longer each time. Even my arrows feel heavier now, and every shot feels like it’s carving something out of me.

There’s this... thing in hell—this presence. I don’t know what it is, but it knows me. I feel it pressing against the edges of my mind like claws scraping on glass. It whispers to me in Halmeoni’s voice sometimes—soft and deceptive, as if it thinks I’ll break if I hear her enough. It offers things—power, rest, even salvation. If I didn’t know better, I might have listened.

But I do know better. Power comes with chains. And I’ve had enough chains for a lifetime.

Still, hearing Halmeoni’s voice again—it hurts. She gave me everything she had. Her sight, her body, her life. She fought monsters in human skin, made deals with spirits darker than the night, and cursed the men who thought they could take her power without consequence. All of it... out of love.

When I was just a child, she tore her own future apart to give me one. And when I was too young to understand, she gave her body willingly so that I could live. She left me everything—the good, the bad, and the unforgivable. I know what she did. The curses. The blood. The fear. But I can’t hate her for it. I never will.

I love her, even now. Even knowing what those whispers in the dark are trying to do to me. Even knowing that they’re twisting her voice, using it to pull me apart.

For now, we’re hiding. I found a crack in the rock, just big enough to squeeze through. The demons haven’t found us yet, but I can feel them circling. Tae-Jun is heavy against me, his body radiating fever heat. He murmured my name once—just once—before slipping deeper into unconsciousness. That’s the only proof I have that he’s still fighting. And if he’s still fighting, then I will too.

I can’t let him die here. I won’t.

But I need a plan. Charging through hell with nothing but arrows and stubbornness isn’t going to cut it. There’s an exit somewhere—there has to be—but hell doesn’t let anyone leave without a price. If I want to get Tae-Jun out, I might have to burn this whole place down.

The fire inside me burns with everything Halmeoni gave me. Every spell. Every scar. Every ounce of fury she ever wielded in the name of survival. And I will use it. I’ll fight through every wall of screaming souls, every nightmare given flesh. I’ll take hell’s weight on my shoulders if I have to. I’ll drag Tae-Jun out of here with my bare hands if that’s what it takes.

But if I lose control... No. I won’t think about that. Not yet.

I’ll rest for a bit longer. Then I’ll figure out the next move. I just have to keep moving, keep shooting, and keep him alive until we find the way out.

One way or another, we’re getting out of this place.

If hell wants us, it’ll have to drag us both back screaming.

I won’t let it take him.

Never again.

### Scene: Ming-Ji Watching from Afar

Ming-Ji stood there, her sightless eyes covered by a weathered cloth, the same cloth she had worn for decades. Around her, the world of the living and the spiritual bled together—she sensed it all: the stench of blood-soaked stones, the ripples in the thick, humid air, and the tortured wails that echoed from the depths of Hell. She could not see her granddaughter with mortal eyes, but she did not need them. Haeseol’s presence was a steady pulse in her mind, familiar as the rhythm of a prayer bead sliding between fingers.

Her hands hovered just above the boundary of the protective barrier Haeseol had crafted—a fragile thing, made with trembling hands and a bleeding heart. It would not hold forever, not against the persistent gnashing of demons, the claws scraping across the invisible shell. The sound of those claws made Ming-Ji's teeth set on edge, but she did not flinch. She stood still, a shadow on the periphery, unseen and unfelt. Her task was to remain unseen. Her task was to keep them safe.

### Ming-Ji’s Thoughts: Love, Regret, and Darkness

She listened to Haeseol’s labored breaths inside the barrier, could almost feel her granddaughter’s exhaustion as if it were her own. Ming-Ji knew that exhaustion intimately—she had carried it through wars, through loss, through deals with spirits older and darker than any human mind could comprehend. She had cursed whole bloodlines with a chant and a sharp stone. She had summoned death and made it linger where it was unwelcome. And she had lived long enough to know what regret tasted like. But this... this was not regret.

This was love, heavy and unrelenting. It was the kind of love that made you give your body away piece by piece—first your sight, then your life, and even your soul if it meant the child you raised would survive. It was the same love that had driven her to rip herself apart to change Haeseol’s future. It was why she had given her strength to Haeseol when she was a teenager, when her friends were in danger. And it was why, even now, dead and blind, she remained tethered to her granddaughter, watching over her from the places between life and death.

Ming-Ji did not mind the darkness that lingered in her granddaughter’s soul. Darkness had been her companion for centuries. What frightened her was how thin the line between survival and corruption was. Haeseol walked that line now, here in Hell, her heart torn between the pure love that had fueled her strength and the temptation to embrace something darker. Just like me, Ming-Ji thought, lips curling in a wry smile. She’ll have to choose, just like I did.

The creatures stirred just beyond her granddaughter’s magic—restless, hungry things, pacing like wolves that had tasted blood. Their claws scraped against the invisible shield, testing the edge where protection met decay.  The barrier flickered as Haeseol’s power waned. It would not break—not yet—but cracks would come if left too long. The beasts knew this. They were patient.  One of them scraped its talons across the surface with a high-pitched screech.  "She smells of death and fear,"* it whispered, its voice like wet silk slithering through a rotten mouth. "Just a little longer, and she'll be ours." Ming-Ji tilted her head at the sound, the edges of her lips curling with cold amusement. “Bold words for something that only survives in the shadow of others. Do you not know whose granddaughter you are playing with?”  Another beast crawled forward—a long, jagged creature with too many limbs. It pressed against the edge of the barrier, forcing its swollen tongue through the cracks like a maggot wriggling into spoiled meat. "We know what you are, old woman. And we know what she will become." Ming-Ji’s laugh was soft but sharp, like the crack of frost forming on a winter leaf. “You think you know me?” She leaned closer, her presence expanding, pushing back against the beasts with a weight that even they could feel. “Then tell me, creature, did you taste the curses I left in the bones of those who crossed me? Did you see the bloodlines I ruined when men thought an old woman was too weak to fight back?”  The creature hissed, retreating slightly, but its brethren swarmed closer, drawn to the cracks like flies to spoiled fruit. Their voices grew louder, overlapping, hissing promises into the air.

### The Silent Protection

Ming-Ji pressed her hands together, her thin fingers twitching slightly in a motion that resembled prayer but was not. Her chants were whispered beneath her breath, ancient words carried on air that smelled of earth and rot. They would hear her soon—those beasts beyond the barrier. She was an unwelcome force here, just as she had been unwelcome among the spirits she bargained with in life. But she didn’t care. Let them come.

The first demon, a ragged creature with rows of yellowing teeth, hissed and slithered closer to the barrier, emboldened by the cracks forming along its surface. As its claw reached through the thinning shell, Ming-Ji let the invisible threads of her curse unravel. The demon stilled instantly, its mouth frozen mid-snarl. A soundless wind carried her presence across the space between them, wrapping around the creature’s black heart like a snake. She gave it a name it had forgotten, a word of banishment spoken so softly that even the air trembled. And then, without ceremony, the beast collapsed, turning to dust before it hit the ground.

More demons gathered, circling, their movements impatient and frenzied. She sensed their hunger, the hatred that boiled within them. She sensed how they clawed at Haeseol’s mind too, whispering in voices that mimicked loved ones, twisting memories into nightmares. They will not have her, Ming-Ji thought fiercely, her hands flexing at her sides. They will not have either of them.

Her unseen presence wove through the air like silk, a shadow that moved too quietly to be detected. She strengthened the edges of Haeseol’s barrier with subtle adjustments—small knots of protective energy that she tied with a flick of her fingers. It would not hold forever, but it would buy Haeseol time. And in a place like this, time was everything.

### An Elder’s Fierce Pride

Even in the depths of Hell, with her granddaughter bloodied and hiding, Ming-Ji’s chest swelled with pride. Haeseol had grown into a warrior—stubborn, sharp, and filled with a love so fierce it hurt to carry. She was Ming-Ji’s granddaughter in every way. Haeseol’s hands were stained with blood, and her heart carried both the light and darkness of the legacy Ming-Ji had left her. But Haeseol had chosen to love despite everything, and that, to Ming-Ji, was strength greater than any curse or spell.

"She will fall, just as you did." "She will take the power you took—darker, deeper. She will wear it better than you ever did." "And this time, there will be no one to save her." Ming-Ji’s expression didn’t change, but her hands curled into fists at her sides. Power, yes—that was the seduction they whispered. It always was. The beasts knew the taste of hunger, of desperation. They fed on it, made it sing like a blade in the heart of the vulnerable.  But Haeseol was not alone. Not yet.  "You waste your breath," Ming-Ji said, voice low and steady. "She is not yours to claim."  --- The darkness thickened. Ming-Ji felt a shift, the air turning colder, as though the void itself was stirring awake. She knew what was coming before the voice even spoke—a deep, ancient rumble, older than the beasts and more dangerous by far.  "Shaman." The voice was like wind over mountains, heavy and inevitable. It rolled through the darkness, a spirit older than human memory, older than even the gods she once bargained with. Its presence sent the beasts slinking back into the shadows, momentarily cowed.  Ming-Ji turned toward it, her blank gaze unflinching. “You're late,” she murmured, as if addressing an old acquaintance.

The spirit shifted, a pressure in the air that was not quite seen but felt—a cold presence like river stones under water. "You do not belong here, old woman. You tread where the living should not." Ming-Ji smiled, a sharp little thing. “And yet, here I stand. Funny how that works.”  "You cannot stop what is coming," the spirit warned. "The girl’s fate is sealed. Even now, her soul cracks open. She will join us soon." The beasts hissed their agreement from the shadows, emboldened once more. "She’ll walk deeper than you ever dared. She’ll welcome us." Ming-Ji clicked her tongue, the sound sharp as a snap of bone. "You creatures think fate is a leash." She tilted her head. "Tell me—how many times have I broken that leash before?"  The spirit rumbled with displeasure. "You think love will save her? You think it will be enough?" Ming-Ji’s smile softened, but there was steel beneath it. “Love has saved her more times than you can count. And it will save her again.”  A ripple of unease passed through the beasts. They circled more cautiously now, wary of the old woman who stood without fear in a place that should have devoured her.

Ming-Ji lifted her hand, and the shadows around her stirred. She had no sight, but her other senses were sharper than ever. She could feel the press of each claw against the barrier, each whisper curling into the cracks like smoke. And she could feel the power in her blood—old, dark power, born from bargains made in desperation and love alike. "Go back to your pits," she whispered, her voice like the soft fall of autumn leaves. "Or stay and learn what it means to be cursed by someone with nothing left to lose."  Her shadow shifted behind her, growing long and jagged, coiling like a serpent ready to strike. The beasts hissed, recoiling. They recognized the weight of her words—the promise of suffering, the curse that would follow them through eternity if they dared challenge her.  The spirit lingered a moment longer, cold and unmoving. "This is not over, shaman." Ming-Ji inclined her head slightly, the gesture almost polite. “It never is.” 

She thought of the nights when she had held Haeseol as a child, rocking her gently, knowing that one day she would face things no child should ever have to face. She had sacrificed her sight to alter Haeseol’s fate back then, though it had been a desperate gamble. But even with all her cunning, Ming-Ji had not foreseen this—a granddaughter standing on the edge of damnation but still refusing to fall.

### Watching Over Haeseol

Within the barrier, Haeseol shifted, murmuring faintly in her sleep, her exhaustion pulling her under for a brief, dangerous moment. Beside her, Tae-Jun remained unconscious, his body pale and still. The scent of his blood was strong, and Ming-Ji knew it would draw more creatures soon.

She knelt at the edge of the barrier, though no one could see her, her fingers brushing the air where Haeseol lay. “Rest, child,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “I am with you.”

Another demon approached, slithering too close to the barrier’s edge. Ming-Ji’s expression darkened, her hands forming another subtle gesture of power. She whispered a curse this time—a simple one, just enough to stop the beast in its tracks. The creature froze as if something had coiled around its limbs, and a moment later, it was gone, scattered into ash and smoke.

The barrier shimmered faintly in the aftermath, the cracks shifting but not spreading. It would hold a little longer now, just long enough for Haeseol to wake and continue the fight.

She could not change what Haeseol would face when she woke, and she could not carry the burdens that lay ahead. But she could ensure that, for a little while longer, her granddaughter could rest—if only for a moment.

And if the creatures of Hell tried to take that moment from them, she would be ready. Even in death, Ming-Ji was a guardian. Even in darkness, she remained a grandmother.

Scene: A Subtle Presence

Haeseol stirred from restless sleep, a shiver running through her as the biting cold of Hell seeped into her bones. Her eyelids fluttered open, heavy and aching from exhaustion, but she forced herself awake. Every inch of her body felt stiff, every wound only half-healed despite her chiropteran blood knitting her flesh back together faster than any human’s. The dull throb in her ribs reminded her she wasn't invincible—not here. 

Tae-Jun lay beside her, still unconscious, his face pale and sweat-slicked. She placed a hand over his chest, feeling the slow, faint rise and fall of his breath. He’s alive. That small mercy steadied her. 

With a low groan, Haeseol pushed herself onto her elbows, then crawled toward the edge of the barrier she’d crafted—her hands leaving smudges of dirt and ash on the ground. She squinted, willing her senses to sharpen as she leaned closer to the shimmering line that marked the boundary of safety. 

It was still intact. But… 

Her brows furrowed. Something was different. 

She reached out a hand, letting her fingers hover just above the barrier's surface. Tiny ripples of energy danced beneath her palm—fine, deliberate weavings, far more precise than anything she could have crafted. Her barrier had been altered, the structure tightened and reinforced in ways she knew she wasn’t skilled enough to accomplish. 

The adjustments were subtle but unmistakable: tiny shifts in the flow of energy, the seams stitched together with far more finesse than she possessed. 

Her breath caught in her throat. 

Halmeoni.

A wave of emotions surged through her—grief, warmth, disbelief, and something deeper: love. The kind of love that binds across lifetimes, across death itself. 

She ran her fingers along the edges of the barrier again, feeling each careful knot, each deliberate seal. They were familiar in a way only her grandmother’s work could be—like the scent of home clinging to old fabrics, or the sound of a lullaby hummed just out of reach. 

Haeseol closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, pressing her forehead to the cool surface of the invisible shield. "You’re still with me, aren’t you, Halmeoni?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. 

For a moment, she allowed herself the brief comfort of that thought: that her grandmother, Ming-Ji, still watched over her, even from the void between life and death. 

But the beasts wouldn’t wait. 

Crawling closer to the edge of the barrier, she strained to listen beyond it. The oppressive darkness outside pulsed with low, guttural noises—clawed feet scraping against stone, wet mouths gnashing together in frustration. They were circling again, testing the barrier, snarling and hissing as they searched for weak points. 

Haeseol sat back on her haunches, eyes narrowing. They wouldn’t find any. Not now. 

"That’s right," she whispered bitterly into the shadows. "You’ll starve before you break through."

She shifted her weight, glancing over her shoulder at Tae-Jun’s still form. They had only a little time—she knew that instinctively. Sooner or later, the creatures would sense she was awake, and they’d double their efforts. She had to act. 

But just for this moment, in the dim stillness of their fragile shelter, she allowed herself a flicker of hope. If her grandmother was out there—somehow, somewhere—then maybe they weren’t as alone as she had feared. 

"Thank you, Halmeoni," she whispered. 

The barrier hummed in quiet acknowledgment, like an old spirit breathing a final, wordless blessing. 

And with that small comfort wrapped around her like a familiar cloak, Haeseol began to plan their next move.

The beasts are restless tonight. They’ve tasted the cracks in her barrier, and it won’t take much for them to widen. They press at the edges, hungry things with no patience—gnawing, scratching, hissing promises like old temptations polished anew. 

Journal Entry: Ming-Ji 

They think they are clever. Whispering power, sacrifice, control—always the same offers, dressed in shadows. I’ve heard those whispers before, long ago when I bargained with spirits and broke men who underestimated me. The beasts think Haeseol will fall to the same desires. 

They don’t understand her. 

Haeseol isn’t like me. 

I was born into a time when survival was a curse, and love came with a cost. Power kept the wolves at bay, and even then, it was never enough. There are stains on my soul that no river can wash away. I made choices, choices I would make again, knowing full well the price—because love demands such things, and those who are weak lose everything. 

But my granddaughter... she has my strength, yes, and my fire. But she’s something more. Haeseol carries the light, even in this place where it should not exist. 

Even now, as she lays cradling that boy—her breath shallow, her body spent—she fights. Even in her unconsciousness, I feel it. The barrier hums with the last of her power, stitched together with exhaustion and stubborn hope. 

And these creatures think they can break her? 

Fools.

I know they will return—soon, and in greater numbers. They’ll try to worm into her heart, sink claws into her grief and anger, convince her that the way forward lies in darkness. They always come for the heart first. It’s the softest place to dig. 

But I stand between her and them. As I always will. 

I do not need sight to feel the spirits slinking in the shadows, circling like vultures. Old gods. Hungry things. I have felt their breath before, cold as winter storms. They think they know what I am. They see a woman who made bargains with things better left unspoken, who cursed families, ruined lives, and set the stones of entire destinies ablaze—and they are right. 

But they are fools if they believe that makes me one of them. 

I did what I had to—when war devoured our land and revenge was the only prayer left. I will never apologize for that. And I will not apologize for standing here now, shielding the one thing in this world that mattered more than power ever did. 

Haeseol is not perfect. She’s reckless, impatient, stubborn as stone. But she’s good in a way I never could be. And that scares them, these spirits and creatures of hell, because they know that her goodness is sharper than any curse I ever cast. 

They will never touch her soul. Not while I am here. 

Let them circle. Let them scratch and hiss. I will meet them all with teeth bared and claws ready. 

And when the last of my strength is spent—when the beasts come to devour what’s left—let them find nothing but cold iron where my heart should be. 

They will never take her. Not now. Not ever. 

Haeseol, rest well.

Your Halmeoni is watching.

Scene | Home Sweet Home

context: Haeseol successfully saved Tae-Jun and they both made it out of hell but Taejun has little to no memory of the previous events

As the sun dipped lower over the Avengers Compound, casting long shadows across the grounds, Taejun wandered through the halls, feeling the weight of Captain America's disapproving gaze still lingering on him. It wasn’t paranoia—Steve Rogers had made his stance very clear. Taejun, with his sharp wit and snarky attitude, wasn’t the kind of guy Steve had ever pictured for his daughter.

And honestly? Taejun wasn’t surprised.

It wasn’t like he’d spent the last few years building a reputation as a nice guy. He wasn’t. He could be an asshole—especially to Haeseol. Hell, he'd been driving her up the wall for years, and she’d driven him just as crazy. That bickering, that back-and-forth, it had always been their thing.

But things were different now.

When he reached the training area, his eyes immediately searched for her. Haeseol stood talking to Natasha in the corner, and even though she wasn’t looking his way, the familiar sight of her, so effortlessly cool and calm, made something tug in his chest. She didn’t know he was there yet, but Taejun had learned something new about her these past couple of weeks: she had a sixth sense when it came to him.

Sure enough, as if pulled by some invisible thread, Haeseol turned her head slightly, catching sight of him. And just like clockwork, her face lit up, her lips curving into the softest, sweetest smile—a smile that was all for him.

It still threw him for a loop.

This wasn’t the Haeseol who used to give him death glares when he teased her about being short or when he’d push her buttons just to see her snap. No, this was a version of her he was still getting used to—a Haeseol who smiled at him like he was the best part of her day.

And that was a dangerous thing. It did weird things to his chest. Made his pulse skip. Made him question just what he’d done to deserve that kind of affection from her.

Taejun didn’t even realize he’d started moving until he was already halfway across the room. His feet carried him closer, drawn to her like a magnet, and within seconds, he was standing next to her, arms casually folded as he leaned against the wall.

“Hey,” Haeseol said softly, her smile widening just a fraction more as her eyes met his. The way she looked at him, so warm, so present—it was like he was the only thing that mattered in the room. “I didn’t expect to see you up this early.”

He smirked, his voice teasing as always. “What, miss me already?”

She scoffed, but her eyes glimmered with something that said maybe, just a little. “As if.”

Natasha glanced between the two of them, an amused smirk tugging at her lips, clearly picking up on the shift in their dynamic. With a slight nod, she excused herself, leaving them alone. Haeseol’s gaze lingered on Natasha’s retreating form for a second before turning back to Taejun, her smile softening.

Taejun quirked an eyebrow, leaning a little closer. “What were you two talking about? Something important, or are you just plotting your world domination now?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she shot back, crossing her arms and giving him that same look she used to give him whenever he tried to pry too much.

“Oh, I would,” he replied, his grin widening as he straightened up, leaning in just enough to brush his shoulder against hers. “You’ve been acting all secretive lately.”

She rolled her eyes, though there was no edge to it. “That’s because you’re always sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I call it curiosity,” he teased, watching her expression closely. It was familiar, this back-and-forth banter, the same dynamic they’d always had. Only now, there was something else threaded beneath it—a warmth that hadn’t been there before.

Haeseol let out a soft laugh, shaking her head at him. But when she looked up again, her eyes softened, and her expression turned a little more serious. Without warning, she reached out and lightly touched his arm, her fingers brushing against the sleeve of his shirt. It was a simple gesture, subtle—but it sent a spark through him nonetheless.

“I’m just… glad you’re here,” she murmured, her voice quieter now, more sincere.

Taejun blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the honesty in her words. He wasn’t used to this kind of affection—not from her. Sure, they’d shared moments of closeness before, but those had been fleeting, often masked by their bickering or playful insults.

This was different. This was real.

He cleared his throat, trying to play it off. “Well, someone’s gotta keep you from getting too cocky.”

She smiled softly, her hand lingering on his arm for just a second longer before she pulled back. The warmth of her touch remained, though, spreading through his skin like a quiet fire.

Before he could say anything else, though, footsteps echoed behind them. Taejun tensed, already knowing who it was before he even turned around.

Steve Rogers.

Captain America himself entered the room, his usual stoic expression in place as his eyes immediately zeroed in on Taejun. The tension in the air thickened, and Taejun could feel the weight of Steve’s gaze, as if the man was sizing him up with every glance.

“Morning, Dad,” Haeseol greeted, her voice still light, though Taejun could tell she was subtly trying to diffuse the tension. She stepped just a little closer to him, her arm brushing his in a way that sent a ripple of warmth through him. Again, subtle, but enough to make Taejun’s heart skip a beat.

Steve nodded, though his gaze lingered on Taejun. “Morning, sweetheart.” His tone was warm when he addressed Haeseol, but it shifted when he turned his attention fully to Taejun. “Taejun.”

Taejun flashed a grin, though it lacked his usual smugness. “Morning, Cap.”

There was a pause, a thick silence hanging between them. Haeseol bit her lip, glancing between the two men as if sensing the impending storm. Steve wasn’t the kind of guy who wasted words, and Taejun could tell there was something on his mind.

“I was hoping we could talk,” Steve finally said, his voice steady but firm. “Man to man.”

Taejun raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance even as his muscles tensed. He could feel Haeseol stiffen beside him, but she stayed quiet. “What, you wanna compare workout routines?”

“Tae…” Haeseol muttered under her breath, elbowing him lightly, her hand instinctively reaching for his arm again, a silent plea for him to tone it down.

Steve’s expression didn’t change. “I want to make sure we’re on the same page when it comes to my daughter.”

Taejun’s smirk faltered slightly, but he kept his voice light, his teasing tone still intact. “Pretty sure we’re on the same page, sir.”

Haeseol winced slightly, glancing up at her dad with a look that said please don’t do this right now. “Dad, come on…”

Steve didn’t back down, though. His blue eyes stayed locked on Taejun, unwavering. “I’m sure you’re a good man, Taejun,” he began, though his tone suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced. “But my daughter deserves the best.”

Taejun’s grin faded completely now, and he met Steve’s gaze head-on. “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said simply, his voice steady, no trace of the usual sarcasm. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

The words hung in the air like a loaded gun, and Haeseol immediately stepped in, moving between the two of them. Her hand found Taejun’s wrist again, her thumb brushing lightly over his skin as if grounding him.

“Dad,” she said softly, her voice firm but not harsh. “I can handle this. I know what I’m doing.”

Steve’s gaze softened slightly when he looked at Haeseol, but the tension didn’t fully dissipate. “I trust you,” he said, though the unspoken words were clear: I don’t trust him.

Taejun, sensing that now wasn’t the time to push any further, stayed silent, his gaze flicking to Haeseol. She gave him a small smile, her fingers still wrapped around his wrist in a gesture that felt both reassuring and protective.

“We’ll talk later, Dad,” Haeseol said softly, her eyes holding Steve’s for a moment before she gently tugged Taejun’s wrist, guiding him away.

Once they were out of Steve’s sight, Taejun let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Haeseol’s grip on his wrist didn’t loosen, though, and she glanced up at him with a mixture of apology and amusement.

“You didn’t have to antagonize him like that,” she muttered, though there was no real bite to her words.

Taejun shrugged, smirking down at her. “What can I say? It’s a gift.”

She rolled her eyes, but her fingers slid down his wrist, interlocking with his for a moment. Her hand, small and warm, fit perfectly with his, and the simple gesture sent a rush of heat through him that had nothing to do with his usual teasing.

____

Haeseol’s fingers slipped into his, lacing through Taejun’s in a way that made his heart stutter. He wasn't used to this—the warmth, the gentleness. The casual affection she offered so freely, without hesitation, left him at a loss for words.

For all their banter, the insults they’d traded over the years, this—this was uncharted territory.

“Come on,” she murmured, pulling him away from the training area and toward the quieter part of the compound. There was a softness in her touch, in the way she gently tugged him along, that made Taejun follow without question. It wasn’t like her to be so sweet, not with him. And yet, here she was, her fingers holding his like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The two walked in comfortable silence until they found a more secluded area outside, the crisp autumn air brushing against their skin. Haeseol finally slowed, stopping under the shade of a large oak tree. She let out a soft sigh, looking up at him with that familiar, glowing smile she only ever seemed to give him lately.

"Sorry about Dad," she said, squeezing his hand lightly, her voice gentle but a little apologetic. “He’s just… protective.”

Taejun snorted. “Yeah, I got that impression. Not really the warm and fuzzy type, huh?”

She smirked, shaking her head. “Not exactly.”

For a moment, they stood there, side by side, her hand still firmly holding his. Taejun glanced down at their interlocked fingers, feeling a strange sense of calm settle over him. The tension from earlier—the weight of Steve’s judgment—faded in her presence, replaced by the quiet warmth she always seemed to bring.

But even now, even with her being this affectionate, Taejun couldn’t help but fall back into their old rhythm. He had to. It was what kept him grounded around her.

“You know,” he began, his tone laced with mock seriousness, “for someone who used to hate my guts, you’re being awfully nice to me lately. I’m starting to think you’ve got a crush or something.”

Haeseol shot him a deadpan look, though the corner of her lips twitched upward. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Oh, I’m definitely flattered,” Taejun replied with a teasing grin, pulling her a little closer. “The old Haeseol? The one who used to chew me out for breathing too loud? Yeah, she’d have kicked me halfway across the room by now.”

Her laughter rang out, soft and melodic, and she gave him a playful shove, though it lacked any real force. “You were always breathing too loud. I had every right.”

“Sure, short stuff,” he quipped, leaning down to look her in the eye, just close enough to get a rise out of her. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Haeseol narrowed her eyes, though there was no real venom behind it. “Call me short again, and I’ll knock you flat.”

Taejun raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered by her threat. “Oh, really? You? Knock me flat?”

Without warning, Haeseol stepped forward, rising onto her toes and pressing her hand against his chest, the movement so sudden and fluid that Taejun’s breath caught. He thought she might shove him or push him away, like she used to. But instead, she just rested her hand there, keeping him in place with the lightest touch.

Her eyes met his, steady and unblinking, and Taejun swore the air between them shifted.

“I don’t need to knock you flat,” she whispered, her voice low but laced with amusement. “You’re already hopeless around me.”

Taejun opened his mouth to fire back a witty retort, but the words got stuck in his throat. Because she was right. The bickering, the teasing—it was all a front. A mask for how completely hopeless he was around her now. She knew it. And worse? She was right there with him.

He swallowed, trying to keep his voice casual. “Maybe. But I think you like me this way.”

She tilted her head, her hand still resting on his chest, and for a moment, her expression softened again. “Maybe I do.”

That threw him. Taejun blinked, caught off guard by the honesty in her voice, the way her eyes softened like she was letting her walls down, just for him. He wasn’t used to it—to her being so open with her feelings, to showing him something so raw and vulnerable. It was like she trusted him, completely, in a way that made his chest ache.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t push her away or try to make a joke. Instead, Taejun just looked at her, really looked at her, letting himself take in the moment. The way her fingers curled slightly against his chest, the way her eyes softened when she looked at him, the way her lips twitched up into that small, knowing smile.

“I’m serious, though,” Haeseol said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper now. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Taejun’s chest tightened. He could see the sincerity in her eyes, the unspoken words lingering between them. She wasn’t just talking about him being there at the compound. She was talking about being here, with her, after everything they’d been through. After she saved his life with her blood, after she’d changed everything.

He reached up, his hand moving almost on its own, and gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. The gesture was soft, tender—so unlike the way he usually was with her. But it felt right.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly, his voice steady but full of meaning.

For a moment, Haeseol just looked up at him, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she smiled—really smiled, the kind of smile that made his heart stutter in his chest. And before he knew it, she was leaning in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek.

Taejun froze, caught completely off guard by the suddenness of it. Her lips were warm against his skin, leaving a faint tingle where they’d touched. When she pulled back, her face was still close to his, her eyes glimmering with amusement at his stunned expression.

“See?” she whispered, her voice teasing but soft. “Hopeless.”

Taejun, for once, didn’t have a comeback. He could only stare at her, his mind racing and his heart thudding in his chest. Because maybe she was right.

Maybe he really was hopeless when it came to her.

And maybe, just maybe, he didn’t mind that one bit.

[resumeresonance]

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[korineedsanap]

I would love to see compelling evidence for why someone doesn’t like a famous person that doesn’t sum up to man and woman had a messy divorce  because I know this may come as a shock, but misogyny of a industry large does not equate to misogyny the of an individual  because yeah, messy divorces are messy  especially when a catalyst of said, messy divorce seems to be  person a being rightfully upset at being seen as less of an individual and more of a attachment to the other, especially when the other at the time of the divorce had been flung into  a not in considerable amount of fame  but people not being able to maintain a relationship and then on top of that cope with a dynamic shift, especially when fame is involved  which makes your lives way more public and way more susceptible to public misogyny. All of that does not make someone a bad person. 

I don’t know I could be completely off based  but like I think, if someone is bad in any reasonable sense, I think they would have to be actively hurting someone in anyway shape or form  I don’t think having a messy break up makes someone bad I mean it can momentarily, but I don’t think it’s grounds for long-term badness. I don’t think there is such thing as long-term badness. I think if that situation has been resolved a reasonable amount of apologies or action has been taken in regards to the situation. That’s all I really care people as a concept are too ever-changing don’t give me wrong. There are some truly vile people in the world. But being mad at a famous person for having a messy break up that all things considered has been kept pretty private doesn’t feel like strong enough evidence to call someone bad.  I don’t know I saw some thing and it kind of pissed me off and I just need to get it out of my system because they were actual people who are actually terrible who deserve to be shunned because despite the regular. Hey maybe don’t do that you are hurting people by doing the thing you’re doing and then continuing to do the thing that is a bad person, but heating people because you want to hate people doesn’t feel good? Or at least if you dislike people for no solid reason.  maybe don’t post that on the Internet I once had a friend who told me that she didn’t like Ryan Reynolds, and that she thought he was a bad person because she just got a bad vibe from him which is not a reason not to like someone and manufacturing reasons to justify your distaste of a person kind of sucks like if you don’t like them that’s valid don’t like them but if you don’t have solid evidence for disliking them, that’s OK but that doesn’t mean you get to make other people dislike them to intuition is not always correct it’s possible they just remind you of someone for purely superficial reasons that you don’t like that you actually have reasons to dislike, don’t take that out on the person you don’t actually know. Famous people are a weird breed that we are required to have para social relationships with so like fundamentally they’re going to suck because they have the misfortune of some of their basic privacy is being taken away from them and that can make anyone a little shitty that does not excuse bad behavior, but that does mean if someone’s trying to have a private messy break up  this does not give you the right to use it as cannon fodder for you say they’re bad and you should all agree with me because it’s a dick move to put somebody on a pedestal only to throw tomatoes at them know if they were put on that pedestal and then start throwing tomatoes at onlookers then they’re rude. They’re using their platform to do a harm you see how that’s different these two people are not the same

OK venting done. I feel better now thank you void for letting me scream into you. 

[when-it-rains-it-snows]

You know what, I'm gonna do two things here:

First, I'm gonna reblog a post here on Tumblr dot com and I'm going say "Hell yeah OP this idea is DOPE" right here at the bottom of the post. Large Agree. I've been here for ten (!!) years, I can use my words.

Second, absolutely leave comments. Do this. Go nuts. I have always been a "I have nothing useful to say.." person, and so I never left comments. Lately, however, I dove into a new fic scene because of Reasons and I thought "fuck it" and started leaving comments. Sometimes they're unhinged. I haven't yet offered to throw myself into the ocean, but there's one I will be commenting on later today and I think I'm gonna say, to the author of this fic that shook me loose from a severe depressive mood, "Hi!! This fic is so good that I am going to throw myself into the ocean, swim down to the thermal vents, catch one of those weird deep sea crabs, and bring it up to you for a gift. Thank you for taking the characters i already loved and saying 'Hey - what if they met as equals?', a delicate shift in a complicated dynamic that was so satisfying to my entire being that I felt compelled to bring you this sea creature. You have taken present tense and sharpened into something that shimmers. Holy shit!!"

Sometimes this feels like shouting into the void a little bit and that's hard. I get it. I do that a lot, and it hurts. But! But!! It is worth it. It is worth it, because sometimes the void replies, because it's lonely too, and felt insecure about what it was writing and needed the encouragement. Yesterday the void said, to ME (!!!), "I appreciate you!" because I'd yelled, y'know, "Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing?" and I was right. Felt fantastic.

Leave comments! What the hell are we doing here if not saying "Do you want to play with me??" and leaving a comment is one really cool way to say "Ok!! Who do you want to be?"

WE'RE BACK BABEYYYYYYYYYYY

[makeste]

“but I thought about how I needed to say this”

a.k.a. yet another meta dissection of The Apology. I actually wrote most of this up on Friday night based on the original Japanese (@pikahlua​ has an excellent translation up here, and I also used @hanashimas’ translations as a reference as well), but I wanted to wait until the official release, though that turned out to be a mixed bag to say the least lol.

I would also recommend reading @pikahlua​ and @class1akids​’ breakdowns of this scene (here and here, respectively), because they are excellent, and because if any scene deserves to have as many meta breakdowns written about it as possible, it’s this one.

anyway so here goes.

Caleb did a more accurate job with this than the fanscan, even if he did try his best to take us out of the seriousness of the moment by throwing in that swiss cheese line lol. anyway so there are two things I want to talk about here. the first is the line about Izuku not remembering, which I thought was a nice touch. of course he doesn’t remember what Kacchan said back then. he wasn’t exactly in the soundest emotional state after seeing one of the people he cares about most taking a near-fatal blow that was meant for him. I’d be shocked if he remembers anything about the aftermath (including the way he flew into a mindless rage afterwards) right up until the point when he entered the OFA Interstellar Party Void with Tomura. anyway, so I thought that was a nice callback.

and speaking of emotional states, the other thing I wanted to talk about is the part that Caleb got right which the fan scanlation didn’t. “but I had more to say.” in other words, “stop trying to win on your own” wasn’t just a one-liner; it was meant to be the beginning of a much longer speech. “there were other things that I needed to say.”

like, can we just stop and talk about that for a second. because basically what this means is that in that instant, when Kacchan pushed Deku out of the way and got impaled, his one and only thought was that he needed to apologize to Deku. his life was presumably flashing before his eyes, he had no idea if he was going to survive or not, and the only thing on his mind was how urgently he needed to make things right with his former childhood friend.

moving on!

so I have a confession to make, which is that I am relieved to see Katsuki describing this as the reason why he bullied Deku, as opposed to Horikoshi trying to retcon it into some sort of “secretly he was just trying to protect him and keep him out of harm’s way because he was worried” thing, which ngl would not have gelled very well with me. the thing is that I’m really not a fan of the whole “Kacchan Did Nothing Wrong” mentality that some fans seem to have. like, I have seen all sorts of convoluted attempts to find excuses for Katsuki’s shitty behavior, but in my view those attempts undermine what I love about his character in the first place. Katsuki is such a great character specifically because he is not perfect. his redemption arc is so compelling because he was such a giant asshole at the start. he was completely at fault, and he acknowledges this, and takes full responsibility for it. and that is fucking fantastic.

his arc is so great because it doesn’t rely on garnering sympathy by giving him a Tragic Past, or by trying to foist the blame for his behavior over on someone else. it’s an arc that acknowledges that redemption isn’t something you achieve by making people feel sorry for you; it’s something you have to earn by actively working to change and do better. and by forgoing the “misunderstood/tragic past” route, Horikoshi is making a statement that anyone can go down the wrong path, but that more importantly, anyone can also choose at any time to turn away from said path. there is only one requirement for doing so, and that is realizing that you’ve done wrong, and deciding that you want to change.

anyway, so in chapter 284 Kacchan of course had that whole speech about Deku not taking himself into account, and mentioned how that made him want to keep his distance. and a good chunk of fandom took this to mean that Katsuki’s bullying was actually a misguided response to Deku’s reckless tendencies -- sort of an “if I show him how weak and powerless he really is, I can get him to accept the reality that he’s quirkless, and that being a hero will just get him hurt or killed” type of thing. and I won’t lie, for a good while I was wondering myself if Horikoshi was really going to go down that route. and like I said, I am honestly relieved that he didn’t. not only for the reasons stated in the previous paragraph, but also because the message that would have sent -- that there are certain circumstances in which bullying can almost be excused because the bully had Good Intentions and was just trying to save the other person from themselves, and so it Wasn’t That Bad, Actually -- is all kinds of fucked up to say the least. so yeah, I’m glad we ended up steering well clear of that.

(ETA: this post was long enough already so I edited out the 3 additional paragraphs I originally wrote analyzing the dialogue from 284. but just to be clear, I’m not trying to imply that Kacchan worrying about Deku’s recklessness is a retconned thing that Horikoshi only threw into the story recently, because there are multiple instances throughout the story where he clearly is worried and in total denial of it. but I firmly believe those feelings are not what led to the bullying. they’re two separate things. Kacchan worrying about Deku is what prompts him to yell at him in chapter 1 when Deku comes to save him. but it’s not what incited him to burn his notebook and taunt him earlier in that same chapter. that action had a much meaner and more selfish motivation behind it, and I’m glad Horikoshi didn’t try to change it up last minute, because it wouldn’t have felt right.)

thankfully as of this chapter I think we can safely cross that out as a possibility, as we’re given the true explanation straight from Katsuki himself. and the truth is that he bullied Deku out of insecurity and jealousy and fear and intolerance. there was nothing noble about it. there were no good intentions concealed in his actions. there are no justifications given, no excuses offered, and no mitigating circumstances to be considered, other than the fact (which neither he nor Horikoshi bring up) that he was and is still a child, and that children make mistakes.

it’s an explanation that challenges many of fandom’s ideas on who is and isn’t eligible to be redeemed. there is no Ozai in Katsuki’s backstory. there’s no great tragedy that he spent a lifetime trying to rise above. the only villain in Katsuki’s story is Katsuki himself. the only darkness that he has to overcome is his own. and it’s challenging, because I think many people believe the only way someone can be redeemed for doing bad things is if bad things happen to them in return. but what Horikoshi is saying here is that that’s not the case. bad doesn’t erase bad. and the one and only way to truly earn redemption is by doing good.

and that’s what makes this such a phenomenal scene for me. by not shying away from Katsuki’s flaws and failings, and having him take full responsibility for them, Horikoshi keeps the apology from being self-serving, and underscores the true depth of Katsuki’s character development. the level of self-awareness he has here is something most people can only dream of. which is very fitting, as that’s perhaps the most important takeaway from his character arc -- that it’s only by acknowledging your own weaknesses and flaws that you can learn to overcome them and reach your full potential.

one last thing to point out here, which is that in the panel where Katsuki finally acknowledges his terrible treatment of Deku, Deku is not even visible. instead, Horikoshi drew the panel from a perspective that makes it appear that Katsuki is addressing this particular line not just to Deku, but to all of his classmates.

again, he shows him taking full responsibility and admitting his wrongdoings in front of the people whose opinions and approval he cares about most. and just to clarify in case there’s any confusion from Caleb’s translation, Kacchan’s wording makes it very clear that he wasn’t just “mean” to Deku, but that he full-on bullied him (he uses the same verb -- “ijimeru” (苛める) -- that he did back in chapter 284). there’s no attempt to downplay his actions here.

moving on now, this chapter also reaffirmed another thing about Deku and Kacchan’s relationship which I was glad to see revisited -- Kacchan’s unwavering belief in Deku’s ability. this is one of those paradoxical things about their relationship which I’ve always been fascinated by, but which is also kind of hard to explain, because I don’t want it to come off like I’m trying to put a positive spin on something which was unequivocally awful. like, please don’t think I’m trying to say that Katsuki’s bullying of Deku was in any way a good thing. but that being said, there’s also a strange irony at play here, which is that Katsuki’s jealousy and insecurity also betray the fact that even at his very worst, he never once underestimated Deku. he has always believed in Deku’s strength, even when that strength pissed him off and made him afraid and uneasy.

no one else -- not All Might, or even Deku’s own mom -- believed from the get-go that Deku could become a hero. but Katsuki never once counted him out, even when he was calling him a pebble in his shoe. he confesses here that even though he “tried to act superior by rejecting [Deku]”, in truth he was never able to shake the feeling that Deku was above him. long before he ever understood the concept of “win to save”, he knew instinctively that there was a strength in Deku’s heart that couldn’t be measured, and which had the potential to surpass even his own strength. and I’ve always felt that this was so important, because it’s the one aspect of their early relationship that hinted that on some level, however subconscious, Katsuki held the same type of faith in Deku that Deku always held in him. it was one of the few things that hinted at there being a possible path towards reconciliation one day. and it paved the way for the most important shift in their relationship to date, when Katsuki finally realized who Deku got his quirk from, and responded not with resentment or spite, but with acceptance.

moving on, I also really love the way we see them portrayed at the different stages of their childhood throughout this speech, and how it perfectly lines up with the dialogue. from small children (when Katsuki talks about his insecurities first manifesting), to middle schoolers (when he talks about the bullying), to high schoolers (when he talks about the past year and everything he’s learned at U.A.). Horikoshi really didn’t have to go that hard, but he did, and that’s why we love him.

and then we finally get to That Part.

where do I even start with this there are so many things omg.

the bow. this is the one and only time Katsuki has ever bowed to anyone of his own volition as far as I recall. and this absolutely is a bow, just to be clear, even though his form is straight-up garbage (very Kacchan-esque, with his feet and arms spaced apart because he’s still a punk after all). this is Kacchan showing more humility and respect than he’s ever shown to anyone else in his entire life.

regarding “Izuku”, I actually have mixed feelings about this to tell the truth. I think it was a good call here because it was incredibly effective in setting the tone and showing just how serious Kacchan is. however if he continues to use “Izuku” rather than “Deku” from here on out, that would give the impression in hindsight that all his past usage of “Deku” really was meant as an insult, which would undermine some of my favorite scenes. I would really like to believe that since DvK2 or thereabouts, Kacchan has (mostly) been using “Deku (affectionate)” rather than “Deku (useless loser)”, lol. but if he switches to the “nicer” name on a permanent basis following his apology, it implies that the previous nickname was indeed being used cruelly. and so honestly I hope this was just a one-time thing, because I do think that in Katsuki’s mind, the name “Deku” hasn’t been meant as a slight to him for a long time now.

“my truth/this is what I truly feel” -- the word Katsuki uses in Japanese is honne (本音), and if you’re familiar with the concept of honne/tatemae, that’s the same “honne” he’s talking about here. it means that he’s casting aside all of his walls and facades and expressing what he truly feels. and of course, one of the fascinating things about Katsuki’s character is that he’s the exact opposite of most people in that he chooses to put his meanness on full display to the public, and ironically it’s the kindest parts of himself which he tends to keep the most carefully guarded and hidden away. this also means that while his rage and anger are very often insincere and put on just for show, those relatively few occasions where he lets his humanity truly shine through are pretty much 100% genuine, as is the case with this one here.

and Deku’s face says it all when it comes to how powerful those moments can be as a result.

and this, right here, is why it wasn’t enough for Katsuki to atone solely through his actions, and why he needed to actually say the words as well. it’s not that the words are more important; obviously the actions are far and away the most important part, and carry far more meaning. but the reason why Katsuki needed to say the words as well is simply because Izuku needed to hear them. needed to, and deserved to, because this is one of the most important people in the world to him.

and so he deserves to know that the relationship isn’t just one-sided, and that he is just as important to Kacchan as Kacchan is to him. he deserves to know that Kacchan understands how horribly he treated him, and that he’s sorry for it. and he deserves to know that Kacchan, without any expectation of it changing their relationship -- meaning that he will continue to feel this way regardless of what Izuku says or does from here on out -- cares about him. now more than ever, with AFO out there doing everything in his power to make Izuku feel as alone as possible, this is something that he really, really needed to hear.

so this part has some interesting wordplay which neither Caleb’s translation nor the fan scanlation was really able to get across. basically, in the Japanese version, when Katsuki talks about “those ideals”, Horikoshi uses the kanji for “ideal”, but pronounces it as “All Might.” obviously the meaning of this isn’t too hard to decipher, as we all know how much both boys admire All Might. to them, he absolutely is synonymous with the Ideal. so this is a way of showing that respect they both have towards him, even as Katsuki goes on to point out the one fatal flaw that All Might was never able to overcome.

and speaking of interesting wording, as others have noted, at this point in his speech Katsuki switches from “temee” (which he was using earlier during the “your strengths and my weaknesses” part) to “omae” (“omae” being a less insulting word for “you”, though still very manly and tough-sounding), which is definitely a big deal. though fwiw this is not the first time he’s used “omae” for Deku (he switches to it briefly right after DvK2, when he tells Deku “you had the strongest guy lay the groundwork for you -- don’t lose”, and then later when they’re walking back to the dorms and he says he’ll learn and get stronger by watching everyone around him just like Deku did). it’s definitely a good choice on Horikoshi’s part though, as it makes this last part of the speech sound more earnest and sincere.

just a quick note, he does indeed use a plural pronoun here, as in “the obstacles that you can’t overcome, we will overcome.” but as @pikahlua​ pointed out, the “we” here is ambiguous -- it could either mean “we” as in class 1-A -- “we will overcome them for you” -- OR it could mean “we” as in all of them -- class 1-A and Deku. “we will overcome them together.” idk about you, but I know which one gets my vote.

anyway, and so this is the line that finally wins Deku over and allows him to let go of his fears, however briefly. what I love about this is Kacchan’s utter conviction. one thing that Caleb’s translation doesn’t quite get across is Kacchan’s use of the word morenaku -- “without exception” -- when he talks about how they’re going to save everyone and win. it echoes that same sentiment he showed back during the Joint Training arc -- that it’s not a perfect victory unless they save everyone. every last person. and he explicitly lists Deku among their number, just so there can be no doubt.

and Deku’s response to this (or at least his thoughts, since he’s not really able to get many words out) pretty much brings everything full circle here.

he acknowledges that everyone else has gotten ahead of him. which is especially meaningful given who he’s standing directly across from. because for most of the series, as we all well know, it’s been Kacchan who was woefully lagging behind Deku in the character growth department. but now Deku himself is acknowledging that not only has Kacchan finally caught up at last, but that he and the others have surpassed him. which is only temporary, I should add, as I have zero doubt that Deku will catch up again soon. but the fact remains that just as Deku’s rapid increase in strength and skill left Kacchan scrambling to keep up earlier in the series, Kacchan’s extraordinary character development has now left Deku in that same position. as All Might once put it, “when he’s starting at level one, and you’re already at level 50, it’s only natural that you’ll be growing at different rates.”

and what’s so wonderful about this though is that the two of them are finally approaching that point where they’ve both caught up to each other and are finally starting to level out. Deku is a full-on badass, and Kacchan is out here talk-no-jutsuing with the best of them. the two of them have been chasing and chasing after each other this entire time, and now they’re finally just about ready to meet in the middle at long last, with each of them fully embodying both of those two crucial aspects -- win, and save.

just about. because Deku still needs some help catching up. but seeing as help has already been offered -- and accepted -- I can’t imagine it will be very long now, and I can’t wait to see him finally overcoming those fears and doubts with his friends by his side. it’s going to be such a powerful moment.

and last but not least,

or, as I prefer,

you had one job, Caleb. flkjsdlk.

but at least this provides a good opportunity to note that unlike the “we’ll help you handle it” line earlier in the speech, here the phrasing is left up to interpretation, as he doesn’t use a pronoun. so it could be “we know”, or, as the fan scanlation put it, “I know.” or it could be both. regardless, it’s good stuff.

anyway, and so Deku passes out, and in the process Horikoshi gives us one last parting metaphor, just in case anyone still thinks Kacchan is all talk because they haven’t been paying attention for the past 322 chapters (more likely than you think). once again, Katsuki’s actions speak louder than his words (even his nice words) ever could: he is literally there to catch Deku when he falls.

so that’s it! my sincere thanks to anyone who actually read through all of my endless ramblings about this scene which I have been waiting for since day one. props to Horikoshi for taking on an impossibly difficult task, and pulling it off with all of the emotion and care and nuance that I’ve come to expect from his writing. imo he delivered on every single level with the exception of the aftermath, which I don’t consider to have actually happened yet. Deku’s part of this is definitely a “to be continued.” but yeah, as far as Kacchan’s part goes, 10/10. so fucking proud of this kid.

[elsecrytt]

OMG !!! Your Satan and Solomon sandwich post is amazing , 10/10 I love their dynamic!! Thank you for sharing and take care sunshine!!!

anon,,, thamk u.... for ur kind words,, very much heartening, i appreciate, it was very much spur of the moment rambling and i was kinda just happy to throw it out there in the void for some few folks to like. i didn't expect to get any encouragement about it. one of the things i really obsess over in character writing is chemistry and how fun it is to read about character interactions - i feel like that's what really makes a bond between characters, and the characters themselves, compelling. hearing that it worked out in this little instance is very gratifying :D you take care too buddy <3

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 81: Occultus

Chapters: 81/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: pg13

Relationships: Loki x Reader

Characters: Loki (Marvel),

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Party Time, And Now For A Detour

Summary:   Some secrets revealed, some questions answered.

Beyond Iceland. Beyond Earth. Beyond the Solar System and the Sagittarius Arm.

Beyond the Milky Way, and beyond Yggdrasil. Beyond the Virgo Supercluster. Beyond the Boötes Void, and all the quasars. Beyond the edge of the observable universe.

There were three giant women.

That is how they appeared to you at least. Something in you knew that they were something else, something far beyond your ability to perceive, let alone comprehend. Something greater than you could possibly imagine. So instead, they seemed like huge, cowled women, working together to weave a great tapestry. It was practically unending, yet somehow still fit on the loom, each thread a life, a place, an event. The finished cloth was all of time, all of space. It sparkled with stars and galaxies, like intricate beading, and the loom weights were raw, glowing gemstones, like you thought you'd seen in a dream once before. A handful of them were missing. They wanted you to know something. Something that had come before. The oldest one unrolled the finished cloth for you to see. You looked in, and fell away. Time was an unknown concept to Ymir. They did not understand or measure it. They did not see nor feel it. Truly immortal, and completely alone, they noticed change on unimaginable timescales, but thought nothing of it, save to admire the beauty that came into being, and flared out, again and again. They did not know how or when they came into being. The weave informed you this was before Earth, before Asgard, before the galaxies you knew and understood. The weave knew when Ymir had started, but it did not show you.

Ymir only knew that they lived, and that change happened, and that it was beautiful. Once, all had been dark. The heat of a singularity met the cold of nothingness, and Ymir was. They had drifted for a long time, between tiny lights, through glowing dust. They collected the tiny lights along the way, multicolored pinpoints, pressed into fingertips, bringing thought, solidity, movement, selfhood, the realization of cycles, and the will to act.

You saw the eons pass, as they slowly realized their sense of self, their name, and their possibilities. They drifted alone for all that time, until captured by one of the great lights that had grown up all around them. Then began their long period of admiring the growing star, learning what warmth was, and, in it's light, coming to understand what they looked like, and adjusting that as they saw fit.

They did not know how their presence effected the development of the star system. Their gargantuan mass allowed for only a single, rocky planet to form, close in to the star, constantly disrupting the rock, gas, and ice that orbited further out. Planetoids and comets often crashed into them, the resulting debris careening around the system, creating massive meteor swarms that rained fire and ice down upon the singular planet. Eventually, they noticed that the little round rock had changed, showing patches of blue and green. It was a lovely neighbor, and they enjoyed looking at it. Occasionally, their presence still caused fiery crashes and cosmic explosions to occur on the planet, but the damage always seemed to rebound, and left the little world even more beautiful for its scars.

The beauty of it compelled them. They wanted something. They wanted to create. First, they tried grabbing two asteroids and pressing them together. But upon letting go, the asteroids just drifted apart. Then they tried throwing one at another. When they collided, it caused chunks to fly free, spinning in all directions. They noticed the fresh surfaces had a glint that they liked, and snatched one up to look at it closer.

Breaking asteroids to see what was inside became something of a little game. Some had tiny green crystals, some had metal, some had ice, and smooth, glassy surfaces. Eventually, they noticed that sometimes, when they dragged their fingers over the surface of a chunk of rock, streaks of color were left behind. The points of light embedded in their fingertips imbued the cosmic stones with hue and light. Once they started thinking about it, every time they tried, their fingers traced glowing color behind them. Soon, the asteroid field around them was littered with pictograms, whatever shapes and designs they could come up with, glowing in a rainbow of colors. They set the drawings into orbit, delighting in how the art would parade before them, as the rocks raced around the star. Occasionally, one of the artworks would fall to the planet, where Ymir presumed it lost forever, so they drew more and more, their work becoming more complex and refined. One of their favorites, one with many shapes vaguely like their own fell to the planet, causing Ymir to try to make it again. For the first time, the colossal being had to reach into their memory to recreate something that had come before. For the first time, they were faced with the concept of the Past. With that, came an idea of the Now, and the Will-Be. They were strange ideas But Ymir realized that these ideas had always been, that always and forever those three things existed all at once. They realized that they could use these things in their creations. And so, using all their colors, they drew the shapes they liked. Cylinders, triangles, ovals, and cones, with arms and legs, eyes and mouths, whimsical patterns in all shapes and sizes. Set them to dancing with the power in their fingers, sent them spinning though space. When these fell to the planet, Ymir watched closely, and saw that under the clouds, all of their old fallen drawings were there: sprouting from the rocks, blanketing the land. Darting here and there through the air and in the water. So too, did their favorite shapes begin to wander, spreading over the little world, and they were pleased to see this. They watched in delight as the eons passed, and the planet changed and blossomed with ever new shapes and colors. Their favorite shapes worked and formed the land, building and creating, just as they had. Cities went up and came down, different each time, but with a kernel of the last in each new form.

Fighting occurred between the shapes, and peace as well, over and over, until the whole planet united in partnership. Through it all, Ymir's great presence still perturbed the orbits of other celestial bodies, causing icy comets and stony artworks alike to rain down on the ever-changing world. Each time, destruction ruled for a time, but always did the beloved shapes overcome and thrive, rebuilding higher and greater each time. Ymir saw, with great wonder, when sleek artworks built by the shapes began to leave the planet. In a reflection of their own origins, the shapes returned to the vacuum from whence they once came.

It didn't always work well. Many of the streamlined artworks were destroyed on their voyages. But the shapes tried, again and again, refining their artworks, until they performed perfectly each time. The world had been changing in the meantime, this time in a direction Ymir had not yet seen. The white clouds had gone gray and thick, the blue seas had a brownish tint. Volcanoes glowed orange, more than they had ever seen. It had started after a particularly large swarm of meteors had struck the planet. The shapes had rebuilt, as they always did, but this time, the change continued on in this new direction.

New artworks began to leave the planet in droves, great hordes, thousands strong. Ymir watched them as they gathered, admiring their shapes and shine. Curiously, the great shoal began making it's way across the star system, closer and closer. They were covered in colored lights. Ymir reached out and grasped one, wishing to see it closer, to pick out the ultra-fine details. Unfortunately, tragically, the artwork crumpled under their fingers, igniting in a pathetic, fiery implosion. A terrible shame. Ymir had no idea the artworks were so fragile. But they numbered in the thousands, like their own artworks, and many yet survived. The artworks were acting curiously now, arranging themselves in precise clusters and rows. Their glowing lights brightened, blinked, flared. Beautiful. The many small artworks were making a vast artwork out of themselves. How clever. It filled Ymir with inspiration. They reached for a nearby asteroid. The lights burst into beams and pulses, so bright they blinded the vast being, just before slicing into their alien flesh. Beams swept across their entire body, separating them at every joint, sending each part careening forever through space. As millennia passed, these parts would crash into stars, fall into black holes, aggregate gas, ice, and dust, creating planets around them. Their head, the size of a moon, would become the hub of a mining colony, the harvested parts some of the rarest and most valuable in the universe. And so, the creations of Ymir continued.                                                                         ****** Their world was dying. It had long been known that fire rained from the sky every few thousand years, sent by the Great Star to cleanse the world. The civilizations that came before were imperfect, and so the survivors built again, better, more precise every time. But this time was different. This time, the destruction didn't end. After the last Fire Fall, the world began to tear itself asunder. Molten rock flowed from deep underground for a thousand years without stopping. It was poisoning the air, the sea, the land. The People's shapes were loose, and they adapted with each generation, but it wasn't enough. They applied their advanced science to themselves, which made them even more plastic, some of their new forms becoming quite terrible to behold. Frightened of how far they would have to go, of what they might become in order to survive, the People looked to a new solution. They needed to find another world. They knew there were others out there, far beyond their own atmosphere. All they had to do was find them. With their adaptable forms, they should be able to survive a variety of possible planets. And so the great building began. All of their industry turned to the sky.

They built spaceships, clunky and clumsy at first, but learning twice as much from every success, and more from each failure. The ships became sleeker, sturdier, more advanced. They learned more and more about how to survive in space, about speed and distance through space, about maintaining health and sanity in the void. Permanent orbital stations experimented with stable, space-bound populations, finding the best ways to live off planet. Ships made voyages further and further from the homeworld. They came home with bizarre and disturbing stories of finding great boulders floating out in the vacuum. Boulders covered with what had to be artwork, on truly enormous scales. At first, the disturbed astronauts could only draw or describe what they had seen from memory. The great stones were orbiting with tremendous speed, after all, and spinning all the while. Many People still on the planet found it hard to believe. Where would these artworks have even come from? But then pictures started coming back, pictures of mile high murals covered in bright colors and frighteningly familiar shapes.

The true terror came with the first high resolution images of the People's ancient nemesis; the Great Star. There was no one on the planet that didn't feel the creeping horror as the images became clearer and clearer, revealing recognizable limbs, a torso, a head. Worst of all, the series of photos showed movement. Somehow, the monster was alive. What had, for the longest time, been no more than a blurry blob in telescopes, obscured by the high number of asteroids in its vicinity, now had a face. A mind. Shock and fear became disgust, became rage. Their ancestors had worshiped the star like a god; dedicated temples and holy spaces to it, made sacrifices and offerings to stave off a destructive wrath that always seemed to come anyway. This entity had wiped countless civilizations off the planet. Even their own now had to abandon their homeworld because of it. The People had stopped believing in gods, considering the Great Star to be simply that. Just another star in the sky, from whose direction destruction occasionally came. To find that it truly was a celestial being, that all those world shaping events, the loss of life, might have been deliberate... The ship building began taking on a militarized aspect.

After many years, the relocation project finally took off. Goodbyes were said, tears were shed, rituals were performed, and celebrations thrown. Then all remaining population, along with as many plant and animal species as could be salvaged from the poisoned world, were loaded onto the ships; a vast fleet of thousands, each meant to be an enclosed community. These then left the planet behind in waves, ready to voyage to their new destiny. There was just one last bit of unfinished business to attend to.                                                                             ****** When it was done, and the vast being that had tried so many times to destroy them had itself been destroyed, the ships spread out in every direction, journeying into the vastness of space, in search of planets to collonize. One, damaged by space debris, crashed onto a tiny, icy planet, their genetics adapting within a generation. Another fell through a wormhole, onto a world of burning carbon and massive active volcanoes, with similar results. Others landed safely on planets of mostly water, and found the seas more hospitable than the land, while yet others learned to share worlds with inhabitants that were already there. All across the galaxy, the People seeded themselves onto a wide variety of different planets, changing and adapting into forms so different that they would no longer recognize one another. Many lost the technology to travel through space in one way or another, while others simply considered it no longer important now that they had homes. One ship, the smallest, the very last to be built, and the last to leave, remained in the old solar system long enough to watch the form of Ymir scatter and fly away, long enough to watch their old home tear itself apart and create another asteroid belt. This ship, not as well provisioned as the others, due to its size, scavenged the system for rare materials. In the wreckage of their planet, they discovered unusual crystals created during that final destruction, crystals that could contain energy, and even warp local space. They discovered a tiny piece of Ymir that had not yet left the system. Embedded within it was another gem, and they discovered that, when contained within space defying panes of those special crystals, it served as an infinite energy source. With this object on board, they could easily contend with the rest of their People, who had regarded them as lessers, and given them the least. As a final act of remembrance, they took aboard one of the monumental artworks of Ymir, and also contained it within the special crystals. Then they began their long search for home.                                                                             ****** Theirs was the longest voyage of all the People. Despite their great longevity, many generations passed on the smallest ship, unaware that the encapsulated Infinity Stone they used to power everything, was also exerting influence over themselves. It stabilized their genetic structure, gradually locking them into one basic shape. Brightly colored and patterned skin faded into various shades of brown and cream. Having previously adapted to the confines of the small ship, their bodies became the smallest of all the People, their bone and muscle density increasing, their use of oxygen and nutrients becoming more efficient. The Stone blessed them with the ability to survive in empty space for a time, to be less effected by extremes in temperature, and to withstand powerful radiation, such as that given off by the Stone itself. They concentrated on crystal and light based technology, and eventually, Aesir began to spring from their lineages. From these came lines of famous captains and leaders: Lodurr, Hoenir, Donnar, Tyr, Woden, Gullveig, Nahelennia, and Mimir. Yet, they never found a world worthy of becoming their homeland. Not until the last of the captains, a young and enthusiastic Aesir by the name of Buri, made the fateful decision to just build an ideal world of their own, did hope of settling permanently blossom again.                                                                       ****** The aged woman rolled the cloth back up partway, and one of the others, a woman who looked no older than you, pointed out a specific part. It had happened recently, in the scheme of things. An invasion, a series of battles, a lost artifact that changed everyone who spent time in its vicinity. A Frost Giant woman, expecting both a child, and a new homeland. The power of the earth, it's spinning core, reached within her and effected the plastic genes of her child, just as in the days before settlement on their world of ice. He would be the first of his kind adapted for life on Earth, but she would not recognize this. The story of her people's origins had been lost and replaced long ago. The first of Earth's Jotnar would not know this for another thousand years. Across the cosmos, Infinity Stones, first collected by Ymir, would change hands, bringing endings and beginnings with them. Great creations and destruction alike would follow their guardians, each destined to foment change. Throughout time, there would be those who tried to gather them all together, to be not guardian, but master. Each time saw reconstruction on a terrible level, but each time, the would-be master ultimately failed. The Stones themselves fought back. They were not supposed to be here, and resented being under the will of a single being that was not of their choice. But their guardians, they blessed in many ways, though not all recognized it as such. The universe was changing, bouncing back from the Stones being used in tandem twice in rapid succession, and not everything was perfectly as it had been. Repercussions still echoed throughout the cosmos, leaving changed memories and messy timelines in their wake. The dead had never died, and there were those who remembered two separate realities. A whole year's worth of time had disappeared. In some places, entire planets changed, as specifically worded wishes from Stone wielders resurfaced them with life lost decades ago. Extinct species surged back to life on worlds no longer fit to take them. Objects popped in and out of reality, as people forgot and then remembered that they existed. The actions of one person were entirely reversed, redirecting the flow of history. It might be eons before everything settled. But for right now, ripples traveled over time, space, and reality. Power fluctuated, and minds warped. Two souls, trapped within the corresponding Stone, had been granted leave to pilot their bodies remotely, for the first time in the entire existence of the universe.

This was going to be an age of strange happenings.                                                                       ****** The third woman, the one with the wide eyes of a child pulled you away from the bolt of finished cloth, and draped her cowl over your face. It was a strange sensation; you could see, but you somehow got the feeling that no one else could, even though you were the only other person here. Perhaps this was something that had to be hidden from the other two women. She led you to the skeins of 'yarn', the threads of reality not yet woven. Within them glittered the potential of all things not yet come to be. You saw Loki and yourself, gray in both your hair, and a rebuilt Asgard that towered over the river and climbed the surrounding mountains. You saw a Titan whose air was clean, and whose land flourished. You saw a handful of deadly people, black and gray their motif, and the term 'Black Order' flicked through your head and was gone. You saw a toppled memorial in New York, three beautiful, brightly colored alien women carrying strange tidings, and a human body, covered in boiling mud. You saw an armored Titan, similar in appearance to Minos, gazing at the sky with a hate-filled grimace. You could see no further. The 'yarn' became colorless, full of potential, but unintelligible to your perception. The woman retrieved her cowl from your head, and then they all, along with their loom and bolts of cloth, began to shrink. They shriveled, smaller and smaller, their colors fading into monochrome, their forms and outlines simplifying until they were no more than line drawings on a great artwork that stretched across the sky. You floated in the air beneath it, recognizing the style as Ymir's, recognizing the air as winter, and recognizing the growing voices beneath you as the Seidkonas, and the mesmerized crowd. You could feel the runes pulsing all over your body, the light flowing from your eyes illuminating the artwork, which you had expanded to its full size using the power of the Asgardian containment units attached to it. As the trance faded, and you sank back to the ground, you closed the ancient, precious artwork back to its compact size, carefully passing it off to Saga, who had apparently had her phone out, and had filmed whatever it was that had just happened. Then you fell over, and you did not wake back up for a full day.

[tiredassmage]

Ouuuggh. I feel like if I dig too much into this one, I might get myself tripped up somewhere, but... it Is kind of interesting to see this be a debate when... even single player games still have some back and forth on whether or not a protagonist should be voiced. And by 'interesting,' I... generally find this kind of tail chasing exhausting which is... why I love to avoid the actual forums, lol.

I feel less that I have specific feedback on the matter rather than... maybe I'd just like to chip something a little more positive into the endless void, so this is... probably mostly opinion and can just be treated as such. Just your tired mut wanting to have a little faith in devstreams and posts from the team, I guess. xD

I sorta already pitched my thoughts about 7.5, but since that's relevant again here, I'm just gonna throw gumballs at the wall about it, I guess.

Most of the ~feedback of it being "why is this encroaching more and more on msq" feels... maybe bad faith to me, I guess. SWTOR's dev communication could possibly benefit from being a bit more proactive and in-depth with the community; FFXIV's already name-dropped in here and the live letters and whatnot are kind of my primary yardstick for judging the few ongoing live-service games I do play. Then clarification and follow-up still happens when necessary, but maybe it clips a bit of speculation in the bud. I really wouldn't mind them including more technical stuff even if it's not language that's readily understood at a glance (ie, what are they up to with the graphical work) because I enjoy knowing what the team's working on, and I think that level of communication benefits FFXIV, and I think it might do SWTOR some good, too. Of course story details and all still wouldn't be a 'before their time' kind of thing, but more of this about what the team's working on I think would help ease a little bit of some of I guess the other thing that tends to get wrapped up in this discussion that wears me out fast - whether the game's going into maintenance or downhill or whatever else the doomsday assessment of the time might be. You'd think I'd be better acquainted with navigating this given most of my online game experience are all games around 10 years old and older, yet here I am anyway akdnfl;sadf.

But. Anyway. I saw enough of their vision with their inclusion of the KOTOR-style cinematics in 7.5. The spirit of including a broader berth of options than being limited to the infamous three I think was beneficial to the story they were trying to tell in this update. Widening the focus area by reducing some of those black bars I think would be helpful, especially as they focus on upgrading the graphical appearance of the game. It's refreshing to hear a suggestion on the matter that I can actually get behind. Those scenes might include less of an animation and scene load for the devs as described in their post, but I'd still love to be able to admire as much of their work as possible, lol. Especially when it does involve any kind of action. (A side scene from the... Voss update? Old Wounds, was it? Comes to mind - the confrontation with Czerka, I believe. And I think a scene from GS 5. Sometimes those black bars cut off a little bit of the action they do show and that's not always as fun as it could be with a wider frame.)

Which really I guess... what compelled me to add thoughts to this post is really just the sentiment that I don't mind. I like the idea of the devs being able to add more variance to the story. Up to 8 dialogue options giving more room for class-references and other minor decision alterations we can make along the way is good flavor. Voiced to un-voiced isn't... really that jarring to me when it does good for the story. BG3 sports a protagonist whose only voice clips are for some interactions and movement around the map and it's been a thoroughly enjoyed game by myself and plenty others, clearly enough. I understand it breaks the mold of what SWTOR did in vanilla, but it was also hugely fucking ambitious of the game to be like that, especially as an ongoing game, I think.

So the 'argument,' if you will, presented by the devs checks out to me. If it's more sustainable for their workload and allows them more nuance in the story, I'm all for it. And I think the graphical updates and recasting a player character voice actor (even if the handling, I will give, was a little... interesting of them to not announce sooner than they did or in a clearer fashion, but that's not this post) tells me, at least, that the team's still dedicated to working on what's here. They want to continue and I don't think any of that is a sign of the game going anywhere away any faster from a dev standpoint.

But that's why we're all hidey-holed on here in a tumblr corner than out in big swathes of fandom life, after all.

I'm mixed on the KOTOR cutscenes myself, and a lot of what people are saying in the forums is reasonable (reduce black bars, make it more visually appealing and less stiff) but I'd rather, for lack of elegant metaphors, navigate Makeb without a map than go back to dull voiced cutscenes of 30 second PR meetings where Lana reads your itinerary for you. I don't really understand the sentiment that you want less story when other MMO's get to have tons of content unvoiced (see FFXIV, etc.) and people praise it up and down-- if voice work is holding it back, then I'm for less rather than more. We've been getting better story steadily, and I'd hate to see that change back to what we were given at the beginning of LotS, which people seem to forget quite easily.

I think what it could use as a compromise rather than alignment dialogue is class specific dialogue, if they're able to implement that many choices from 3 to 8. Then it'd be less of a yes - neutral - no situation, and players might feel satisfied that it's not just the same responses dressed up. But that's my opinion on it, and it's a small niche issue at that.

Also, unintentional comedy at being able to rate a team response like UberEats???