#i originally was very confident with the frozen one but then realized Frozen exists

[woahiexist123]

So I was bored today and wanted to start to write that like daydream that I’ve been having for the past couple of years and I need input. I need to name a kingdom after something like snow related because that’s where the kingdom is, in a snowy area. So please let me know which name sounds best, tyyy!

[tangent101]

Looking at the "shipping war" itself between Amberprice and Pricefield, I blame Deck Nine and Before the Storm. Mind you, from a business point of view, the decision to toss under a bus Max Caulfield and have her ghost Chloe without any closure, rather than the old assumption that they'd not talked at all makes sense (due to these lines of dialogue: No. You were happy to wait five years without a call, or even a text....Oh, please. I'm sure your phone and laptop were frozen in time"). By having Max continue to talk but slowly fade away after a year... I'm a diehard fangirl of Max Caulfield. I was hella upset at Max for ghosting Chloe... until I started to think about it.

The main draw for BtS was the Amberprice ship. But the existing canon Pricefield ship could reduce connection to the characters. So they give us a shove away from Max, finding a reason to shun her. We punish her for abandoning Chloe. And thus we buy into Rachel, who is nothing like Max (despite Max being told several times how she's giving them Rachel vibes, suggesting perhaps that Rachel were akin to a more confident Max Caulfield... perhaps polite but stubborn, doesn't care what other people think of her and dares you to take offense at that, and checked in on people to see how they were doing. That wasn't the Rachel Amber we were given.

No, Rachel was "edgy" and maybe was untrustworthy. She told Chloe to commit a major felony by searching her father's office when she could easily investigate it as a later time herself without any suspicion or crime. She manipulated Chloe into doing what she wanted rather than allow the player-protagonist to have actual autonomy. And she was beautiful and magical and maybe could start fires with her mind but we never knew, and rumors spread of cut or rewritten content and editorial meddling to force a new story on us rather than the one that would answer questions about Arcadia Bay and the like.

In fact, there was a perfect mechanism by which we could have learned about Rachel Amber. Chloe could have had a journal that belonged to Rachel that had several days written in detail and Max could have been the Narrator who tells the story of Rachel through her (and the Players') eyes, with specific parts written down as the cut scenes while Max essentially imagines the rest of the story and the dialogues and choices Rachel would make.

Honestly... it's still very much how we could get a new Max-and-Chloe-and-Rachel story, one that is canon in every way... because if Chloe was sacrificed, Joyce gave Max the journal as part of Chloe's effects, but if Chloe was saved then Chloe gives the journal to Max and maybe they read through it together. Hell, having Chloe living could even have extra scenes so you get two different versions of things depending on if Chloe can give her perspective on things and if Max is imagining these things whole cloth!

So here you go. Replayability. If anyone at Deck Nine is around, I'd be glad to help hype (or even craft!) such a Rachel-centric story... ^^

But yeah. Amberprice and Pricefield are very much equals that ended up turned against each other to "encourage" a certain perspective in storytelling. But ultimately, Amberprice is the story of two girls drawn together after the tragic death of one girl's father, followed her her isolation as her best friend whom she's falling in love with ended up being forced to move... and another girl who clearly cared a lot but wanted more than what her girlfriend wanted and likely saw their relationship differently than the first girl. Pricefield is the story of one girl seeking to redeem herself after being forced to abandon her best friend five years earlier and then realizing that not only is her best friend in love with her, but that she is also in love with her best friend and would do anything for her. Anything.

As for any story about Chloe and Rachel in a Rachel-Lives timeline, I think the truth is that if you use the Chloe from the original Life is Strange, you will end up having Rachel and Chloe breaking up because Rachel feels differently toward Chloe than Chloe does toward Rachel. Her emotions and bond changed and grew in different directions than Chloe's. But I believe she would have become a strong friend for Chloe, and would have backed her in any endeavor, or encourage her to make the hard choices.

Much as Max was the first Amberprice shipper, so too do I think Rachel would be the first Pricefield shipper. And that says something important about both girls.

Why do you think the shipping wars in the Life is Strange fandom are so intense? Specifically with Pricefield and Amberprice, it’s always confused me because I feel like people can love more than one person throughout their lives, so I don’t understand why the arguments over the two pairs are as prevalent as they are.

I'm going to link this post if you don't mind because it goes over my thoughts about "one true loves" in media.

Now as for your question: I think the two biggest reasons are that A: Amberprice and Pricefield are treated with equal validity in canon. B: Rachel and Chloe's relationship has a lot "what if's."

When I say that Amberprice and Pricefield are treated with equal validity, I mean that the games never try to dismiss Chloe's feelings for Rachel or Max. She says she loves both of them at different points: "I loved her so much! How can she be dead?" and: "I will always love you. Now get out of here before I freak!" Both of these moments are treated as genuine expressions of love, and that's unique because of how most media go about the idea of "one true love."

Usually, a character is only allowed to have one love of their life. They aren't supposed to feel a real emotion toward anyone that they aren't "meant" to end up with. The fact that the LIS fandom goes "Who did Chloe REALLY love?" and then the game responds with "Both!" is not the way that usually goes. I think contributes to making ship wars intense because there isn't a real canon answer on who Chloe loved "more."

I also think Chloe and Rachel's relationship not having a conclusion contributes to the ship wars. We don't know what would have happened with Amberprice and Pricefield if Rachel lived. Maybe Chloe would have found out about Frank, and they would have had a huge fight and never spoke again. Maybe Chloe would have found out about Frank, and they would have learned to communicate better, gotten back together, married, and then lived out their lives together.

Both of those options are on the extreme end of the spectrum…but the thing is that even though those are both extreme examples, you can't say with 100% certainty that they wouldn't have happened because…well, we just don't know. The fact that it's left up for interpretation means that both shippers can make up their own ideas about what would have happened. And if I've learned from having unrestricted internet since the age of nine it's that people get very attached to their headcanon's...So yeah I do think having a situation where the fate of a canon relationship (if they both lived) is very interpretable contributes to some of the fighting. It's very easy to Pricefield fans to decide that Chloe would have ended up with Max, and it's very easy for Amberprice shippers to decide that she would have ended with Rachel.

That's my take on things! I love that LIS is such an interpretable series but I do think it leads to a situation where a lot of people are going to have polarizing opinions on things because...honestly a lot of what's "canon" within the game is just what we decide to take away form certain ships, characters, and moments.

[halloweenhoneylover]

the window

summary: reader gives spencer a really cute holiday gift, and he really, really appreciates it (spencer reid x gn!reader)

word count: 2.7k

author’s note: this was supposed to be a blurb lmao. also anon, u did not specify gender, so this is gender neutral!!! also, this is for the holiday season and isn’t specific to christmas (aside from mentions of secret santa gift exchange). also also, spencer knits canonically.

I KNOW WHAT YOU DID.

Rolling your eyes, you closed the seemingly menacing pop-up on your screen and continued to finish up your paperwork. A few seconds passed before a second pop-up appeared.

DO NOT CLOSE MY MESSAGES!!!

You heaved a sigh and stood, making your way to Garcia’s lair. Pushing the door open, you skipped a greeting entirely and chided, “Dude, you gotta stop sending scary pop-ups to my computer. People are gonna start thinking that unsubs are hacking the FBI and threatening agents.”

From beneath her horn-rimmed glasses, Penelope tutted and chewed the end of her pen. “You are no fun. Besides, you are forgetting my immensely cool and mysterious origin story. ‘The Black Queen’ was not one of the good guys!”

“That’s true,” you admitted, “but you’re one of us now, so that means no more suspicious messages unless you want to be fired.”

She gave you a contemptuous glare, “Not gonna happen. Also, I’m really shocked that you thought you could distract me from the matter at hand.”

Furrowing your brow, you replied, “I don’t even know what the matter at hand is.”

Garcia’s smirk curled devilishly. “You and Reid.”

Further confusion ensued. “And what about us?”

She groaned and threw her head back, “Oh my god, you really are dragging this out. I know that you did not get him for Secret Santa, but you still got him a present.” The quirking of her eyebrows was enough to indicate that she meant more than what she was saying, and you were hesitant to explore the implications.

“Okay, first of all, it is illegal to look at my credit card history, and secondly, he is my best friend, so yes, I got him a present. Is that a crime?”

“Certainly not...but this does solidify the fact that you’re in love with him.”

“Dear god, Garcia, I am not in love with Spencer Reid.”

The look she gave you was one of utter incredulity. Her disbelief was so strong in fact that she did not deign your statement worthy of verbal response. Instead, she sat there. Staring. And under her rather unnerving gaze, you began to fidget, your resolve slowly dissolving. Squeezing your eyes shut, you relented. 

“Okay, maybe I am the littlest, tiniest bit in love with Spencer Reid.”

“Well, duh, but what I really need to know is when you’re gonna tell him.”

“When? Garcia, this is not a ‘when’ question. Actually, it’s not a question at all because never in a million years would I ever tell him.”

“Why not?” she exclaimed, gesturing with her pen still in hand. “You spend almost all of your time together, at work and at home! You guys go to bookstores and museums and cafes. He talks about his silly little statistics, and you listen, and you make your silly little jokes, and he laughs; you’re a match made in heaven! And he’s so obviously into you! That boy writes the definition of heart eyes every time he looks at you.”

Steeling your jaw, you rebutted, “That’s just not true.” Your voice faltered. “Sure, I’ve noticed a certain...affection, but he does not love me in the same way I love him.” You let out a shaky breath before deciding to continue. “Did you know that in all of our years of friendship he’s never touched me? I mean sure, it’s happened once or twice in the field, but that was always an accident. And yeah, I know he has his thing with germs, but don’t you think if he liked me as anything more than a friend, he would have done something by now? A pinky promise, a teasing elbow jab—I don’t know—something?”

Penelope’s face softened, and she tried to recover your confidence. “He’s like that with everyone! He likes his space. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him initiate contact with anyone on the team.”

 “But isn’t that the point, Garcia? I’m just like everyone else to him. He wants space from me.” Bitterness roiled in your stomach and dripped from your tongue. “Not very romantic, huh?” 

Trying to piece together a counterargument, she stumbled slightly, “No, I will give you that.” She paused. “But I think he’s just scared. Not of germs, not of you, but of his feelings for you. He’s not the most well-adjusted person I know.”

You chuckled lightly, gradually resuming your normally light-hearted disposition, “I would agree.”

“Well, I hope he likes his present.”

The semblance of a tired smile graced your face. “Yeah, me too.” 

You turned to walk out and had almost made it out the door when her voice stopped you. “Also, I will stop sending suspicious pop-ups to your computer.”

Peeking back through the doorway, you grinned.“I think it’d be for the best. Texting does exist for a reason.”

——— 

It had been a really good day. It wasn’t often where an entire day in the bullpen passed only with friends and laughter and love and light, but today was one of them. Snow fell silently outside the windows, but everything inside felt warm like laughing so hard that your cheeks ache and your stomach hurts.

By now, a sort of daze had befallen the team as the giddiness wore on and the alcohol set in, fuzzing eyes and minds. Most everyone had paired off after the gift exchange a few minutes prior, but no one had drifted too far. (Maybe it was the team instinct: never stray too far from the pack, but it was also likely that everyone just enjoyed the proximity to their loved ones, their family.) Garcia seemed to be in heaven, tucked into Morgan’s side on a couch that had been dragged haphazardly into the bullpen, and murmured conversation stretched on with intermittent peals of laughter. Predictably, Hotch and Rossi had sequestered themselves to a nearby desk, their scotch glasses never dry and grins never fading. (Hotch during the holidays was something special. His often frigid demeanor thawed, and out from the ice peeked his former self who wasn’t so serious. (His rare giggles were quite the surprise though.)) Emily and JJ sat on the latter’s desk, discussing anything and everything (except for psychopathic murderers), while you had pulled your chair up to sit beside Spencer at his desk. 

“So are you pleased about your gift from Rossi?” you asked, a faint grin playing at your lips.

“I am,” he replied, clearly enthused. “But I don’t think I’ll ever understand how he managed to get an authentic TARDIS key.” His finger traced the edge of the authenticity certificate Rossi had bestowed on him that sat on his desk; the key was already hanging around his neck.

You raised your eyebrows and nodded. “Well, money is a powerful thing.”

“True,” he mused before furrowing his brow. “But that’s another thing, the expense limit is not a suggestion, but he always treats it like it is. Puts all the rest of us to shame.”

“There’s no shame in an inexpensive gift!” you argued. “As long as time or thought was put in, it doesn’t matter.”

“Penelope surely didn’t skimp on time spent for yours,” he said, pointing to the homemade knitted hat and glove set on the desk beside you.

“No, I did not!” she yelled from her spot on the couch, somehow having managed to pick up on your conversation, and you laughed. “Lots and lots of time and love was poured into those!” Her speech was slightly slurred as her eggnog intake began to infringe on her lucidity.

“I know this, and I love you for it,” you beamed at her.

“I love you too.” She proceeded to bury her face in Derek’s shoulder who could only chuckle at her antics. 

You picked up a glove and inspected it. “I truly cannot comprehend how she made these. Circular knitting needles are my living hell.”

Sitting up with renewed interest, Spencer said, “If you need help with them, I could lend a hand. I knit my mom a sweater this year, and I think I finally understand how they work if you ever wanted me to show you.”

“I’d love that.” Hopefully, the flush of your cheeks could be blamed on the wine you had had. “Speaking of your mom, how is she? Are you excited to see her?”

The corners of his mouth turned up, and he nodded. “She’s good; her nurse said she’s been doing really well lately. She’s less paranoid, more alert, so I’m really excited. I think this will be a good trip.”

“I’m so glad!” You sat there with a dumb smile for a moment, your mind lagging for a moment (damn wine) before realization crashed onto you. “Wait, speaking of your mom, I have something for you!” He cocked his head to the side as you stood up and went to your desk, rifling through one of the drawers. Pulling out a neatly wrapped gift, you trotted back over and offered it to him. “This is for you.”

He took it, running a hand over the wrapping paper (it was the one with cowboys wearing Santa hats that you had found when shopping together a couple weeks before, his favorite). “(Y/N), you didn’t have to get me anything.”

Shrugging lightly, you said, “Yeah, I know we did the whole gift exchange thing, but I saw it, and I thought of you and had to get it.” And you definitely did not actively seek this out for him in the search for his perfect present. Which is something somebody who is definitely not in love with him would do.

He looked up at you, eyes already glassy and searching your face for something. You weren’t sure what he was looking for, but then he met your gaze with unwavering certainty. “Thank you, (Y/N/N).”

“No problem, ya big sap, now open it already.” 

Ever the cautious one, he opened it carefully, sliding a finger under the edge of the paper and gently easing the tape up. The small action of unwrapping a present so attentively was just so Spencer your heart swelled as you suppressed the growing grin. From the paper emerged a book.

“‘A Collection of Poems by Geoffrey Chaucer,’” he murmured, smoothing a hand over the cover.

When he didn’t immediately react, seemingly frozen, nerves crept up the back of your neck, and you sputtered out some sort of reasoning. “I know your mom used to read Chaucer to you; you mentioned ‘The Parliament of Fowls’ when we worked the Fisher King case, and it’s in this collection, and I thought it’d be fun for you to take it to Vegas and read it together and—”

Your explanation came to an abrupt halt as Spencer threw his arms around you, enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug. Immediately melting into it, you embraced him with a similar intensity and buried your face in his neck. Something in his touch allowed you to let go, and it felt like the moment you could finally exhale. 

A breath you’d been holding for longer than you could remember. 

You could smell the cologne that he wore for ‘special occasions’ and his shampoo and something so faint but so undeniably him, and his hand slid up to the back of your head, cradling it in the most tender fashion, and you felt like you could cry. So you pulled him closer, and he did the same.

The hug definitely lasted longer than what most people would find comfortable, but neither of you could be convinced to retreat until you became aware of the silence that had settled over the bullpen. You felt the many pairs of eyes on you, and it pained you to pry yourself off of Spencer. Breathless, you looked around at the shocked faces of your co-workers who sat with mouths agape and eyes wide. You coughed slightly to try to ease the tension and then for some reason beyond your knowledge, you decided to wave at them in the most awkward fashion. Sitting back down, you could feel stares lingering as conversation resumed, and you looked up at Reid who looked like a deer in headlights. You laughed quietly, tugging his sleeve until he received the memo and sat down again. 

He cleared his throat and avoided eye contact, glancing at his present. “Thank you for the book, (Y/N/N).”

“You’re welcome,” you replied, your tone earnest as ever. Still reeling from the hug, you faintly became aware of the speed of your heartbeat and unconsciously brought a hand to your chest. You attempted fruitlessly to sort through your raging thoughts, while across from you, Spencer tried to think of something, anything to say now. 

He couldn’t really believe he’d done it. His germaphobia remained everpresent, but somehow the emotion welling in his chest at your sincerity and benevolence had overridden it, and he felt helpless in stopping himself. His heart had lurched in his chest as if it was suddenly struck with the need to be in your hands, propelling him forward. But it wasn’t like he hadn’t wanted to. He had wanted to for so long, but he’d never mustered the courage before. There was something so special, so intimate about touch, and so many people gave it so freely, and he just didn’t understand how they could allow themselves the indulgence. The absolute luxury of giving and receiving love. Spencer often felt like he sat by a window, watching his life pass by outside of it, and he had always wanted to open it, to really experience all the joy and all the grief and all the love that was waiting for him, but it was scary to open himself up to those feelings and the hurt that could ensue. So, he usually sat discontented by his window. But today, it was like he’d grabbed a hammer and smashed the glass completely and stepped through to be able to return the love you had offered him. 

It felt so good.

But now, he had no idea what to do. He stood there in the midst of the shattered glass, and deep down, he knew had to take the last couple steps to get to you, but he didn’t know how. 

His fingers fidgeted in his lap as he analyzed your blank face, trying to find something to give him the next direction when a realization hit him. “I didn’t get you anything!”

Drawn back from the depths of whatever thought you had been stuck in, you met his gaze and shook your head. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. I broke the gift exchange rules to get you something, so you had no way of knowing.”

“But I feel terrible.” His eyebrows drew together, and he frantically tried to think of some way to repay you. “You get me an incredibly lovely and wonderfully thoughtful gift, and I’m the loser who didn’t get his best friend a present!”

“Spencer—”

“Wait!” he interrupted, a revelation arriving. (He knew how to take the last steps.) “When I get back after the holidays, do you want to get dinner with me? Then, we can go to the bookstore on 10th that you love, and you can pick out a book, and I’ll pay.”

Your eyes widened further than you thought possible, and your heart which had only partially recovered was off to the races once again. You decided to take the plunge and ask the burning question. “Do you—um, do you mean like a date?”

“Yeah,” he answered, beaming so brightly. “Yes. Like a date. If you want to.”

You held each other’s gaze, and the warmth that had filled the bullpen all day filled your chests, and you smiled so hard your faces hurt. 

So silly, you thought, to have wasted all this time boarding up my affection and keeping it tucked away, safe and useless.

So ridiculous, he thought, to have sat by that stupid window for so many years when the real thing feels so sweet.

“I think I’d like that a lot.”

[mosaicofdreamsanddragons]

Present Smiles

Hello Monkie Kid fandom, I am back and on the Sandy is the original Sha Wujing (or at least a reincarnation that remembers being Sha Wujing) hype train.

Read on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31762732

Sandy liked to focus on the present. There was a lot he could do in the present. Right now he could focus on finding something interesting for MK, poor kid was clearly anxious about something.

Sandy suspected the spiders. It couldn’t be easy to face his fear every day like that.

Pigsy suspected Monkey king’s vacation was reopening old wounds and bringing old fears the surface again. It made Pigsy angry in a way he tried to hide, and so Sandy had lent him Mo for the day and taken the kids off to get them out of his hair.

He’d asked the kids what they wanted to do, and MK’s insistence of going to Flower Fruit Mountain coupled with Mei’s enthusiasm to see the place made it an easy choice.

His own reservations about going to Flower Fruit were unimportant compared to their delighted smiles. If MK was working so hard to face his fears, Wujing could to. And it’s not like his older brother was home anyways

And he could make the overly anxious MK happy by shuffling through the vast amount of stuff in the small house MK had led them too. Hadn’t it been bigger? Something here would surely help the kid calm down. A fun distraction would do more good than a tool right now, so he focused on showing only the most interesting knickknacks his older brother horded in his house.

Not that they did much good.

Maybe he should have taken one of Mo’s fellow therapy cats with them, one that specialized in anxiety.

At least MK had started playing a game now, even if he was approaching it with all the zeal of a lesson.

Then again, he seemed happy to play and confident enough to skip the tutorials. Sandy took out his tea and offered a cup to the bored Mei, but she turned it down in favor of watching MK skip the dialogues with disapproval.

“He’s going to regret that,” she whispered to Sandy, “I skipped the tutorials on Monkey Mash for years and totally didn’t know a basic move that made the game five times easier…”

“At least he’s having fun,” whispered back Sandy as MK entered the store and…

That gentle smile flat and lifeless on a screen, the voice mechanical and garbled not warm and real, closing his eyes when he was trying to instruct in wisdom frozen in place not moving and alive…

…that disappointed frown…

MK was right, Wukong had made this game.

Wukong’d clearly done his best but Wujing's heart ached to see their teacher so close but so so fake

Caught up in trying to mentally fix the wrongs with the stilled image he let MK’s enthusiastic reactions fade to the back of his mind. What would it take to fix the errors of the flat picture? The voice would lack the mechanical background and would take on a slightly pretentious tone when he tried to instruct them, like Tang’s did, chest lightly moving with each breath. But he couldn’t quite animate the pictures in his mind, not without it feeling oh so very wrong.

Perhaps he could start with a base? A living breathing person who he could then imagine the features of his teacher on. Tang would work, there was some resemblance there….

So wrapped up in his thoughts was he that he only barely caught Mei’s statement, “kinda looks like…”

“Tang? I know I thought the exact same thing,” he says with a grin, glad to be pulled from his memories.

“Ahhh, right” says Mei. He’d missed something here, but he didn’t let the nagging sense of some mistake bother him. Time to focus on the present.

The present was a bored Mei and an MK who grew increasingly more frustrated with the game he was playing.

Wujing was ignoring his form on the game, the anger in his 2D eyes who only existed to fight …

Why is that how everyone remembers me? Is this really how he remembers me? As that angry fighter?

Wujing wasn’t like his older brother. He didn’t hide himself away from his grief. No, Wujing got angry. So very angry, until he saw the consequences first hand for a familiar-but-not face. And he’d tried so hard to fix that, to let go of the anger, to be more than that.

Bajie, no this was Pigsy, on the ground hurt…again, no not again this was Pigsy not Bajie…and it had been his fault, his fault…and still he was so angry, so angry that this had happened. Longing to punch something, he’d turned to find a convenient tree or pole, only to catch sight of a too-familiar disappointed frown out of the corner of his eye…

…and the anger drained from him. He looked back to Pigsy. Right now, in the present, he needed to help his friend to a hospital. There would be time for anger later.

When he’d looked up again the frown and its owner had been gone, and when he’d come back to search for it all he’d found had been a cat pawing at a flyer for anger management therapy.

He shook his head and focused his attention on the present, which was entertaining Mei. For a few hours she was content to watch MK play and complain about his moves snarkily into Sandy’s ear (somethings run in the family Wujing supposed). But after that she grew restless.

Sandy proposed meditation and tea (he rather thought he’d earned it) but she was more interested in digging through the house for something to entertain herself in the piles and piles of Monkey King Merch and assorted trinkets. So he joined her, letting himself focus on the moment and her enthusiasm, her laughter at his finds, and not the past emotions burning under his skin.

“What is this!” she squealed holding aloft a plush green dragon.

“A seahorse?” he suggested. It did look a bit like a sea horse. He wondered if that was an intentional joke or if the creator had just sacrificed recognizability for cuteness.

“It’s adorable!” she said before tearing through the old chest for more. Soon adding a smiling pig with too big eyes, a Monkey whose head was all out of proportion, and a man with a red beard, mouth too big for his face.

He picked the plush version of his past up and realized the mouth had been stitched over. The difference between the smooth manufactured stitching and the later additions was painfully obvious. Two little curved lines had been added to either side of the mouth with a thread that didn’t quite match and stiches that were too large and uneven.

“Awww,” said Mei from behind him, “He’s smiling!”

“He is,” said Wujing softly, cradling the store made doll in his hand and tracing the his brother’s clumsy correction with his thumb and struggling to name the emotion that was rising inside him and stealing his ability to speak.

“Hey, um” said Mei, awkwardly patting his arm. “Would you like some tea?”

He glanced down at her blurry form, blinking himself back into the present, “That would be lovely, Mei.”

Mei did not, in fact, have a teapot to make tea from the leaves she’d found. In the time it took for her to find one (eventually he’d just left his sitting right on the table for her to “discover”), he probably should have checked what the leaves where. But he didn’t and now Mei was out like a light.

He tucked her in with the plushie version of her ancestor and glanced the other child under his watch. MK was still frantically playing away at the game battering his way through the 2D versions of the past. But as he watched he found himself more concerned with the boys own health then an anger and an old grief. Perhaps later he could convince MK to have some of the tea Mei had discovered, a nap might do him some good.

He filed that away as a plan for the future.

Right next to catching up with his older brother.

[kirboner]

The Curse of the Blood God

TW: Gore/blood descriptions, attempted suicide mentioned, major character death, swearing (not much).

WORD COUNT: 2,738

This is a mainly c!Technoblade centric along with c!Philza, other DSMP characters are also mentioned :] (if there are any tags I missed please tell me!)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Growing up, Technoblade was always surrounded by violence. With violence came death, so the concept of it was never unfamiliar to him. Never jarring, never shocking. It happens to those who are too weak to keep fighting, who make stupid decisions or let their guard down. It happens to those who lose, and Technoblade never loses. 

Technoblade never dies.

So, when the tip of his blade pierces through an enemy’s throat, or when their blood spurts against the snow, and they collapse in a heap against the frost- Techno feels nothing. Partially because he doesn’t know them, but mostly because they made a stupid decision and they lost. They challenged The Blade. The Blood God. To Techno, losing a life is like losing a game, a challenge, a bet. 

The L’Manburgians that suffered once he spawned the Wither let their guards’ down. The Butcher Army by challenging him had made a stupid decision, and those he challenged and triumphed against were weak. So, they lost a life, or a few.

Maybe that’s why betrayal hurts him so deeply, why the feeling aches in his very core. Someone has to be close to him to betray him, he has to put his trust in them, he has to care about them. For someone to then betray him, to betray The Blade, is a stupid decision on their behalf. However, that’s not the half of why it hurts so much, why the feeling stings and burns and engulfs him. It’s because he made the stupid decision to put his trust in someone traitorous. Yet, regardless of his stupid decisions,

Technoblade never dies.

Techno has few constants in his life, so he tends to gravitate to those he can control. Roasted potatoes and gapples, a royal gown he stole a long time ago that he wears as under-armor, a golden crown. Small things, items he carries with him as he flees location. However, one other thing remains a constant in his life, something he can’t pack in a suitcase or strap to his back- and that’s Phil. 

His memories of his life growing up in the Nether are a mix of vivid snippets and utter vagueness that he’s had to piece together through whisper and rumour. He remembers fighting with other Piglin half-breeds in The Pit, uncomfortable nights spent unslept on hard nether rack, fractures and purple bruises left blotched across his torso. Gashes that reopened, scabs that refused to heal. The jeering and hissing crowd that surrounded him, as he was forced to rip apart his opponents; orphans just like himself. Losing their parents was the worst thing that ever happened to them, Technoblade being a close second. He could recall the *clink* of golden nuggets pooling at his feet, quickly soaked in the ever-growing pool of his opponent’s blood- this time a larger Piglin boy who laid face down, iron pickaxe lodged firmly in his spine. The crowd cheering his victories and spurring him on. Shrieking for more.

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD--

How he left- or rather escaped- the Nether falls into the latter category of utter vagueness. Phil had told him he came across The Pit when trading rare spider eyes on the black market, as he heard the value was higher in the Nether due to the specific spiders only existing in the Overworld. However, upon discovering The Pit he had, in his words, “gotten into a bit of a domestic over it with the ringleader,” which Techno suspected to be an understatement. Phil, apparently, had “completely non-violently, and totally consensually” taken himself and the other half-breeds to the Overworld. Techno, again, believed this to be a massive understatement, as Phil and himself to this day could not enter the Nether without a fight of some kind. 

‘So, what ever happened to the other orphans?’ He asked, throwing a match on their fireplace. Living in a Tundra, while isolated and peaceful, required near constant temperature adjustment.

‘I spent a while rehousing them all across the Overworld, it took around two months to actually find homes for all of ‘em,’ Phil shifted more firewood closer to the hearth. A spruce log, dark and dense. Techno shifted in place, ‘Uh, what about me?’ He wanted to elaborate more on the question, rather than sound like a small child, but didn’t. Phil chuckled, ‘You were different, Techno,’ to this Techno quirked an eyebrow, ‘Different?’ He probed.

‘Well, let’s see... I did try a couple times to find you a family, y’know?’ Techno frowned, ‘Not because I didn’t like you, but because I was worried about you. I have a pretty dangerous line of work, and I thought you deserved a bit of a more stable life,’ Phil sighed. A beat of silence followed ‘So how well did that plan turn out?’ Techno asked sarcastically, earning a chuckle from Phil. His confidence rebuilt slightly. ‘I wanted you to have a constant in your life, but I also didn’t want you to be unsafe,’ Phil looked at the hearth, crackling quietly. ‘The more time I spent with you, I realized you already had a constant, Techno,’ He looked at the kindling, long charred and crumbling to ash. ‘Violence,’ Phil breathed, barely above a whisper. ‘You needed more than just violence in your life Techno- and trust me, I know I’m not always the best example- but I wanted to be that constant’ Phil continued, ‘And I’m glad I made that decision,’ he smiled.

A silence stretched for a moment, a tight feeling developing in Techno’s chest. He got this feeling whenever Phil said something particularly sappy, though the tightness was never painful. It was a pleasant feeling. It was kind. ‘Even if it means you can’t trade spider eyes on the black market anymore?’ Techno deadpanned, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘Oh trust me, the market value for spider eyes has plummeted since the ‘90s, I was just trying to cut my losses,’ Phil smirked, leaning back on his hands. Techno rolled his eyes, ‘Christ you’re old, man,’ he said fondly.

A constant. Phil was a constant. He had been there to mend his tattered gown, tend to his wounds (now shallower, and fewer and further between). He had fought alongside him, brothers in arms, working together in the fight against tyranny. Phil was a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield, rightfully earning the title as The Angel of Death. 

‘Who first started givin’ you that name, anyway?’ Techno asked, swinging his axe down and splitting a spruce log down the middle, watching it splinter and fall in two smaller heaps. The chill of dawn was warmed little by the sun peaking over the horizon, a reminder of the Autumn season soon to come. ‘What name?’ Phil looked at him, confused before shoveling another mound of snow to make room for their new vegetable patch installment. ‘I know you well, mate, but I’m not a mind reader,’ he chuckled. ‘The Angel of Death- who first started callin’ you that?’ Techno elaborated. Phil heaved another shovel-full, ‘God, it’s been a while since someone’s called me that. I reckon it started way back, before the Antarctic Empire,’ he paused for a moment, his shoulders tense. ‘I remember when I was little, I had a pet bird and I used to let it sleep in my bed,’ Eyes downcast, the air seemed to grow chillier. ‘It was the night before my 6th birthday, and I had a dream that I was standing in a cave, the walls covered in this weird writing I couldn’t read and... I could hear a voice whispering to me, but there was no one there,’ Techno heard him suck in a breath before continuing, ‘It said: you are the angel of the men befallen to you, you are the choice you will wish to unchoose. An unvindicated angel, an angel of death.’ 

Techno’s axe was frozen in place, feeling significantly heavier than before. ‘The bird was dead when I woke up,’ Phil swallowed thickly, before plunging his shovel back into the slush. ‘That’s, uh... heavy stuff, Phil,’ Techno shifted uncomfortably. ‘Well, it was a long time ago now, I don’t really think about it much. It is a bit weird how people started calling me that a while afterwards, though,’ Phil chuckled dryly. Techno blinked, deciding to continue chopping firewood rather than probe the topic. It’s not like he had much of a need to fight now anyways, Techno was perfectly capable and willing to take on the world for Phil. 

From then on, time passed by quietly.

The Syndicate was formed, consisting of his fellow anarchists. Small battles were fought, but nothing extreme. Well, at least the ones Phil participated in. Techno’s bloodshed, however, did not slow. He was never one to insert himself into battles he had no stake in, but he found the “stakes” he held in the battles he fought became less about what he gained, and more so existed for the sake of fighting. Time passed, yet Techno never felt the effects of it.

The same could not be said for Phil, nor his peers. As the years passed, Phil seemed significantly older. The timeless winged angel he knew growing up seemed... ancient. As isolated as they originally were in the Tundra, the people he once knew became even further and further away.

The Winter winds of Snowchester became harsher than what Tubbo’s infrastructure could withstand. The damage to the buildings became too severe, Tubbo and Jack resigning to move to a warmer climate. Tommy went with them, unsurprisingly. Ranboo and Niki left the Syndicate to join them.

Eventually the Egg and its cultists seemed to disappear below the surface. The dead bloodvines oozed a mix of light blue and red when cut, any residual whispers too quiet to make out. Sam wasn’t seen outside the prison anymore now, and new visitors were always refused. George and Sapnap allegedly left Eastward towards a mycelium biome, the looming walls of Pandora’s box an apparently unpleasant reminder for them.

More people disappeared; their reasons unknown to Techno. Some set sail across the ocean in search for something new, something untainted. Some died in smaller territorial battles, or over Casino winnings. Others went to the Nether and never came back. Phil could only fly for short periods of time now, and it took a great toll on his body.

‘So, see anything new out there birdman?’ Techno inquired, brewing a potion of Swiftness II. ‘I saw a gravestone I never saw before, near L’Canyon,’ Phil coughed, slowly adjusting himself in his chair. ‘L’Canyon... I don’t remember anyone being buried there. Who’s was it?’ Techno asked, mildly interested. ‘The hedge stone was too eroded, it could’ve been written in Endlish for all I know,’ Phil paused for a moment, ‘You might be able to read it, you have better eyesight than me, mate.’ Techno looked at Phil, surprised. ‘That’ll be a pretty long journey by horse, we’ll have to load up on supplies,’ Techno muttered, adding another cup of Redstone powder into his brewing stand. ‘I’ll fly us,’ Phil smiled as Techno looked dumbfounded at the fragile man before him. He was pale, the feathers on his wings greyed, his face lined and tired. Techno swallowed, ‘Phil, I don’t think--’ ‘C’mon, mate. Just like old times. If we leave now, we’ll have plenty of daylight,’ Phil interrupted, placing a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder. No matter his age, Phil was just as stubborn as always, so despite his better judgement Techno agreed on the trip. 

‘I’m still bringing a map, compass and overnight supplies in case we don’t make it before nightfall,’ Techno announced. ‘Of course, mate. I’m stubborn, not crazy-’ Phil was cut off by another fit of coughing. Techno eyed him nervously, ‘You’re sure you can hold my bodyweight, plus supplies?’ He inquired, dubiously. ‘Course, mate. Don’t stress about it,’ Phil reassured.

As anxious as Techno was, he trusted Phil’s judgement in his abilities. Plus, he couldn’t deny the rush he got from being in the sky. The wind flowing through his hair, the air fresh and crisp. He felt like a child again, riding on Phil’s back across the SMP. Soaring to the heavens at unimaginable speeds. He looked down at the pure whiteness that was their home, fading into dense spruce forestry, slowly becoming pure green Plains. Eventually, the green was abrupted by a deep, grey crater. 

They landed clunkily, more of a barely controlled fall than a proper landing. ‘You okay, Phil?’ Techno called out, standing up quickly, and wiping grass stains off his gleaming Netherite. Phil was further North of him, lying in a crowd of thistles. His body was contorted at a strange angle, ‘I’m ‘right,’ he called, his face wincing. Panic surged through Techno as he got closer, ‘Phil your bleeding, what the hell happened?’ He yelled, grabbing the medical kit out of his backpack. ‘It’s okay, mate. It was gonna happen soon, anyway,’ another labored breath, ‘Just wanted you to see the sky, one last time,’ He coughed, blood spurting across his chestplate. Techno hastily grabbed disinfecting wipes, Phil winced as his chestplate was removed.

A deep gash spread across Phil’s torso, below his ribs. His upper half impaled on a sharp tree stump shrouded within the thistles, his breath growing more ragged. ‘Phil- fuck. We’ve gotta get you off this thing,’ Techno swallowed, beads of sweat forming at his brow. ‘It’s too deep. The branch’s lodged in my intestines,’ he cringed, ‘at this angle, it’ll rip through my lung if you move me,’ Phil whispered, smiling weakly. He was right, the wood was splintered and lodged firmly in his core. Dark crimson blood leaked out from the gash like treacle, almost black and intense in volume. ‘I can- I’ll get healing potions from the house,’ Techno hyperventilated, wiping the disinfected cloth around the jagged and bloody stump. ‘If that doesn’t work, I’ll find a totem of undying-’ ‘Techno,’ Phil cut him off, placing a hand on his face. He hadn’t realized he had been crying until now. ‘It’s at least a 3 day walk back to the house on foot,’ Phil chuckled weakly, interrupted by a another fit of coughing. ‘Then what can- tell me what to do,’ Techno pleaded, wiping the cloth across the gash again and again as the crimson continued to leak out. 

‘Isn’t it painful, watching bleeding only to see more blood?’ Phil sighed, his breathing shallower, ‘It hurts but its undeniable, Techno...’

‘What is?’ Techno rasped, hands shaking.

‘...How good you are at wounding,’ Phil smiled, clasping his hand tightly. 

‘Phil, please’ Techno felt sick, his shoulders shaking. ‘It’s okay, Techno. I wanted this. I wanted to see the sky one more time,’ Phil swallowed, ‘-with you,’ His squeeze on Techno’s hand growing feebler. ‘Bury me at the gravestone I told you about,’ Phil’s eyes fluttered slightly. ‘But- I thought that was...’ Techno trailed off. 

It wasn’t fair. Phil had never betrayed him. He wasn’t stupid- his decision were always calculated. He was careful, he set traps around their base- he didn’t let his guard down. He wasn’t weak, he was an enemy’s worst nightmare on the battlefield. And yet, despite this, he died. Bleeding out, impaled and contorted near the shattered remains of his late son’s country. Phil died, just like everyone else.

Techno was alone. Phil, his constant, was gone. The other Syndicate members had disappeared, Wilbur died with L’Manburg and Tommy had long considered him an enemy. He was desolate and barren, the air felt cold as he sobbed loudly. His hands beat against the ground as he screamed until his throat grew hoarse. For the first time in his life, Techno ached. 

It had been weeks since Phil had passed, Techno felt too sick to eat or drink anything. The freezing nights did little to numb him, blistering days did little to warm him. His muscles did not deteriorate, nor did his legs give out beneath him. Physically, his body was fine. 

Back in the Tundra, his poison potions made him feel nauseous, potions of damage stung at his skin. No matter the mob, or the damage he sustained, he would respawn in his bed. The ache in his chest did not subside with time, the loneliness of the base encroaching upon him constantly. Yet, despite his stupid decisions, or letting his guard down around any mob he faced. Despite his weakness...

Technoblade never dies.

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Hi so that was an AU i wrote that got way too long lol. Hope you enjoyed! Likes/RBs appreciated :] <3.

[havetheavengersdoneanythingwrong]

An Interlude — Me, ‘Yourself,’ I

Two Masters pick up another ‘them.’

Many other ‘them’ — of times and Masters long gone, each filling each other’s roles in stories meant to be the same.

Like a play filled with understudies, where the choice in lead actor changed everything —

...Then, what to do about that?

<Pt. 1/???>

featuring story from @hasbbdoneanythingwrong + @hasquetzdoneanythingwrong

--

"...It's you."

A being from his dreams, a being beyond rational description.

A Singularity had appeared, hadn't it? One only recently, showing its face, a remnant of what should've been destroyed.

The coward believed such a thing was the only cause of a being haunting his dreams. A shapeless, formless, yet all-encompassing, formed being, that threatened to vanish from his sight and take him over, simultaneously.

And its words, too-

▓▒░▓▓▄▀▌▌▐█▒

Made no sense.

No, nothing the being said would mean a thing to the cowardly Master, and yet it made sense all the same. Two opposite extremes, filling him not with the words it spoke, but the emotion those unspeakable tongues filled in his mind.

"...I don't understand. I... I don't get it at all."

No, so much 'strange' had occurred, in a matter of mere days. A Servant had spoken of a world not unlike his own, another Chaldea, and another Master. Then, replaced soon after, by a Quetz who spoke of it only as a faint dream, barely recalled, but fondly looked back on.

And mere days afterwards, this thing -- that which now sought to fill him with unending fear, and discomfort, as it held itself within him, seeking to spread itself within his mind like a comforting, but foreign virus to the human conscious.

╟╧╜╚╕╘╧╨╪╬╗

...His heart, suffocating under the mass of the 'it,' that threatened to encompass his entire being, envelop it into itself--

...Yet, its words made its way to his mind, before the cowardly Master forced himself to wake with a bite to his finger.

Y o u a r e n o t a l o n e . S e e k T H E M .

...The being, so foreign, spoke now as if the Master himself were speaking to 'him' in a mirror.

...The seeping, crawling feeling faded in an instant, as the familiar 'My lord!' awoke him from his slumber.

With Da Vinci fussing over something in the other room, surely preparing to announce the time of their Rayshift, the cowardly Master made a beeline for somewhere -- someone -- he knew would help.

--

"Oh, hell no."

Ritsuka had spent a solid five or six seconds just laughing incredulously, before their eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to speak.

"--I'd heard it from... something. Ritsuka, we already know they exist, and... We need to know what they're up to. If they're allies, we need to get their aid, and..."

"It's not that."

Ritsuka interrupted my speech by placing a finger over my mouth. Breathing out, they placed their index finger on their temple, as if trying to formulate what they were to say next.

"Thing is, Cadence, we have a serious problem with time stuff right now. We already have a sudden Singularity that's just happened, despite our best efforts, and your first idea is to go check other timelines? And off the advice of a weird thing that appeared in your dreams after the Singularity was formed, no less!"

Ritsuka breathed a long, drawn out sigh out, as I took the opportunity to get a word in.

"This time stuff is something we can take advantage of, especially because we've just achieved a sort of contact with it. Remember Quetzacoatl? She was acting as if she were in a different Chaldea entirely, for the day we summoned her, until her Spirit Origin 'shifted.' All things considered, we need to check up on that."

Placing a finger to my neck to calm myself, lightly scratching its side, Ritsuka waited a moment before responding.

"...Listen, if you're right, we can't do this willy-nilly. You know full well how dangerous this is. But..."

...Ritsuka shook their head, raising their hand in what I could only assume was the brief consideration of punching themselves in the face.

"...You're not the type to take stupid risks. The fact you're not avoiding this like the plague says to me that you've got something in mind. After all these things we've seen up to now... I can't believe I'm saying this, but I guess we'll have to look at even more time shit."

...The Master laughed, in disbelief, before turning on their heel and beginning to move south.

"...I think, if anyone's going to know about this, it's going to be a certain Moon Cancer."

"--You're not seriously thinking of going to her for advice, right?!"

"Less advice, Cadence, more a way to figure out what the hell has been happening outside our little bubble. I doubt we'll be able to see everything, but even just a little bit will do. It'll tell us who our allies might be if we end up forced to one of their worlds."

Ritsuka raised their hands over their head, stretching themselves out and yawning loudly to get out the slight ache of sleeping on a Chaldea bed.

"...Or, if a Singularity forces us into contact with them," he continued with an awkward laugh, "we need to figure out who won't kill us on sight."

...Turning a corner of Chaldea's hallways, he'd knock upon a very certain door -- greeted by a purple-haired lady, smiling wide, with a gaze best described as a mixture between intimidating, venomous, yet also fairly innocent for the moment. "Why, if it isn't my favourite senpais. What brings you here so soon? Ritsuka, you usually at least wait 'til noon to try out some BB slots."

The lady took her seat on her bed, resting her chin on her right hand and raising an eyebrow -- turning an ear to the two of us.

"No slots today, sadly. BB -- I'd like you to help us understand other people."

"...Other people? Senpai, you're not exactly lacking in the social department. Although, C--"

"--Not like that," I quickly clarified, if only to save my own pride. "We're looking to understand people from... different Chaldeas, if that makes any sense."

...At that, BB's eyes widened, if only for a moment -- then smiled, with a sort of distinct softness, before it returned to its usual mischievous aura.

"Is that so..? You're sure about this, right, Senpai~? Surely you wouldn't wish to be jealous of Masters better off than you two."

Before I could respond -- frozen just for a moment at hearing that -- Ritsuka piped up in my place.

"Yeah, we're alright with that. At day's end, we want to see other people like us. What they've done, and... If they'd be allies for us, should we somehow meet."

...The mischievous lady only nodded, before placing a floating screen just in front of them.

"If that's the case, I have no choice but to show you all the other Senpais out there! ♥"

...And, mere moments after -- our first sight showed its face.

--

"--You vermin should know that I am the only one who can hurt my centipede!"

An annoying voice, marked with an angered 'sigh' that would've made most anyone's hairs raise on end.

Yet, to the Master they now saw, such a voice could bring only the brightest of smiles. Two beings of seeming opposites, giving each other a knowing glance before a wave of confidence enveloped them both.

With the casual smile only a devil could muster, the Moon-Cancer made short, easy work of the mere beasts in their way. The icy wasteland, seeping away at the Master's bones, did little to harm the sense of warmth that seemed to envelop them both.

"Now, now, Quin," the lady spoke with a chuckle, "don't get too happy yet~! There's a cave to hang out in not too far away -- we can talk there!"

Quin -- That was the Master's name. A spare glance at their BB's face told them all they reckoned they had to know -- in place of her devilish grin, remained a mischievous -- yet warm, glowing smile.

The moment they fled into an otherwise dark, empty cave, Quin collapsed to tears -- perhaps in part of fears that could only come from traversing a Lostbelt alone, but seemingly mostly of relief.

"How... H-How did you get here..?!"

Through sobs, the Master spoke, as the Moon-Cancer only smiled, and laughed, crouching down beside her Master.

"Quinny, I'm hurt~! You should know by now that I can pretty much do whatever I want."

Neither Master observing the event could truly understand the pain she went through just to reappear at the side of her Master -- but Ritsuka, sparing a glance to look at the BB that manifested there, saw teary eyes, and a soft smile.

...The face of someone who had almost certainly been through hell.

Cadence focused upon the Master themselves, finding himself awed. A Master who, despite all that remained against her, found herself with allies that wouldn't so easily give up and leave her. A Master who, though almost assuredly afraid, still stood up and kept pushing forward. And a Master who stayed with the Moon-Cancer who seemed as if she was her exact opposite, as both impacted each other permanently.

--

"...That was Quin, senpais~!"

Spending a moment holding a hand to her eyes, BB soon returned to her usual self -- Ritsuka only smiled, but didn't elaborate on it any further.

"...That was..."

...She seemed to be a good person. A 'hero' -- even allied with someone considered evil, she...

...She was a hero. In her own right, she was a hero -- even if she were afraid, she still pushed forward, and fought with the bravery of a hero.

"...Well, we probably have one ally, Cadence.”

Ritsuka smiled a bit, as if to ease me of something I'd not realized I had, before returning to the Moon-Cancer.

"What's our next sight, then?"

To that, the Servant only winked, before another screen enveloped their sights.

--

"...Hey."

A black-haired man, narrowed eyes at two writers not far in front of him.

No time for grief, for there was still something to do. The eyes of a man who had a plan -- even if far out, one he would place his faith in.

Those eyes -- sharpened, fire sprouting within that pupil of his -- were eyes of sheer determination.

"If you can turn fantasy into reality, how about we pull a Moriarty on me?"

A sentence truly outside the realm of 'reality' -- one that caused Cadence to recoil in shock. Yet, the cowardly Master still found himself leaned in to listen, as the other Master beside him smiled and nodded to themselves.

Mash, turning to face the black-haired Master, raised her eyebrows in some form of confusion.

"--Huh..? Senpai, what are you talking about?"

"Moriarty has that gun from that one German story. If the authors here can do something similar to help me, then..."

...The Master spent a moment in thought, but it certainly wasn't one spent in hesitation. No -- both observing Masters knew the look well.

It was one of focus, and of finalizing their plan. It brought back memories of Reines, of Chen Gong, and of El-Melloi.

"...That doesn't sound outside the realm of possibility."

The taller author -- Murasaki, at a closer glance -- spent a few seconds staring upwards in thought before replying. The smaller author, surely Hans, stared at his colleague and Master with a mixture of incredulity -- and, just as much, curiosity.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Let me see if I can find what I'm looking for."

To this, the Master flicked his fingers delicately from a row of comic books situated carefully on a shelf, up until he pulled a certain issue out, as if it were made for this very moment.

"--This! This, here."

Opening the comic to a specific page, as if he'd done this a thousand times before, he placed his finger upon one panel in specific -- a planet made of dark ooze, its inhabitants slimy parasitic creatures.

A middle-of-the-road author, almost assuredly Shakespeare, took a close look, and smirked, as the Master elaborated.

"Symbiotes. From Marvel."

As the determined Master watched the author's expressions, Shakespeare decided -- as usual -- to be among the first to speak.

"Interesting."

...Hans, meanwhile, twisted his face into a frown.

"...I'm not sure how I feel, adapting a modern work like this."

"Just do it. I'll be able to save her with those powers."

The Master only furrowed his brow, his voice taking on a slight firmness to it. Andersen picked up on that tone of voice -- one of someone who had already weighed their options, and one that had already decided their fate. The author silenced himself for the time -- at times like this, even he recognized that he had to put his author's code to rest.

"Senpai... Is this really a good idea?"

Mash spoke carefully, placing her words best to try and ensure her friend had thought it through. She had faith in his idea, the observing Masters could tell, but it was certainly best to avoid acting rashly.

"...I need to save her, Mash."

The Master, certainly, had already made his decision. As he elaborated, Mash's concerned expression shifted to a soft smile -- assured that, at least, he was sure of this action. If he held faith it’d work, then she felt she could as well.

"I hate being without her. And I want to skewer the fools who took her away."

...Murasaki, at that, only nodded.

"I can see the pain he's feeling. We... should help."

...At his fellow authors' words, Hans raised his hands up, and grinned awkwardly.

"Fine, we'll turn you into an alien monster. But it likely won't stick when this Singularity's fixed."

"So long as I get my wife back, I'm fine with it."

The gaze of the Master said it all -- he would stop at nothing to find, and save, someone he loved.

Suddenly, to the two observing Masters -- the sheer determination of this Master, even as he requested a possibly dangerous procedure, now only made sense.

...He, too, had something to protect.

--

The Moon-Cancer smiled, for a moment, before closing her screen.

"That, Senpai, was Rex. A Master who managed to tame even a lady like Quetzacoatl~!" Ritsuka gazed back at me, the look in his eye saying it all.

"...That was his Quetzacoatl?!"

Of course, his incredulous statement immediately after solidified things -- as, giving it some thought, I'd realized myself what had happened.

"...Well, now I feel a bit bad, summoning Quetzacoatl like that. Probably should've used a catalyst that wasn't a T. Rex plushie."

As Ritsuka casually said something that made even BB perform a double take, my mind fell a little bit -- as I tried to make heads or tails of that Master.

'...That man... Despite a situation so grim that he had to alter his own body, and add a Phantasmal Spirit to its structure... He didn't look fearful at all.'

No -- it wasn't fearlessness. That was sheer grit, made only stronger by what was on the line. His sharp tone, the fire in his eyes, wasn't from foolish aggression or rashness -- it was from a man whose life and love were all on the line. A man who knew how bad the situation could get, and one that could swallow their fear and fight for the sake of someone they loved.

'...No wonder she was so insistent on finding him.'

The horrible taste of jealousy caught in my throat -- my eyes closed, seeing only that fiery gaze.

...That was bravery.

...My eyes flipped between screen after screen -- Rex' fiery gaze, and his risky yet high-reward plan just to save his lover. Quin's emotional strength in the heat of the moment, holding out and fighting long enough to find safety, being such a kind Master that even one like BB would cherish her.

'...Compared to them...'

...That jealousy, that surrounded my neck, tightening it and stealing my breath away. Envy at their strength, where I had lacked it.

Those -- were heroes. Those were the people that would surely save their 'Chaldea.'

...Certainly, I knew my own weaknesses -- but it only became clearer, where I stood.

"...Cadence, I think he's an ally. Whaddya think?"

But the jealousy cleared itself from my neck as Ritsuka shouldered me lightly, and as a hand formed itself upon my shoulder. Silent though it was, I knew that grip as well as the back of my hand.

"...He's no Genji."

...An approving voice -- Ushiwakamaru, doffing her mask and blindfold and sitting just beside me.

"...He fights our fight. An enemy of the Genji is a friend of mine."

...That jealousy wouldn't so easily leave me -- but I only allowed my mind, for a moment, to recognize my own strengths.

Even if I paled in comparison to these two heroes, I still had something.

"...I think he's an ally, too, Ritsuka. Maybe a little blunt, but... I've only ever seen a gaze like that in you."

The Master beside me scoffed.

"Are you kiddin' me, chief? I don't think I've seen anyone so determined to help someone. And seeing as how you're showing us that, BB, I assume he succeeded."

"Correct~! Both of these two are just as alive as you are. And, y'know, this isn't the end of our marathon."

...Ritsuka raised an eyebrow.

"Jeez, just how many saviours of humanity are there? I find it hard to believe so many Earths got the crap end of the stick."

"You'd know if you counted to infinity, senpai~! I'm only showing you the ones you'll probably meet. I snuck a little charm into that Quetz' pocket, you see, and now you're linked~!"

...

"What."

Ritsuka took approximately five seconds before responding.

"It was just a bit of stomach medication. A little baggie I gave her. I don't even think she knows it's there."

...

"What."

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding~! Maybe."

...As me, and Ritsuka, found ourselves completely sidetracked by what was best described as 'the worst thing we've heard in centuries,' BB clapped her hands together and began pulling up a few more screens.

"I call a little intermission~! All three of you, get some treats and come back later. I promise you'll love the next ones."

--

...

An ever-shining light, bypassing such simple screens, watched 'them' in their many, many seats.

Them who threatened to suffocate and take over 'them,' 'him,' but who satisfied themselves watching the production of Life.

The rakugo theatre intrigued them all -- as a lone 'it,' playing the parts of them all, laughed and dropped another punchline to the tale. Surely, a dramatic, comical, saddening, heartmelting, uplifting 'rakugo' --

...As the actors raised their hands to follow suit, and drive the coward into the next act of his performance, 'it' held up its fan and its cloth, waving the acting Masters to their next story -- to the next ochi.

▄▀▄██▌▌░█▓╨╨╜╓═

The ever-shining light laughs, and cries, and screams, and smiles gently.

The performance has only just begun.

[dionnaea]

next on me spamming: my third ask this day. here’s my request (please feel free to ignore or decline this!! i don’t wanna make you uncomfortable babes!!) could i ask for an annie leonhart (attack on titan) x fem!reader? any specifics is up to you, but i just don’t see any annie content! tysm! sjsjjsjsjs

To Live | Annie x Fem!Reader

pairing: annie leonhart x fem!reader

warnings: little bit of angst, little bit of fluff

wc: 1.9k

a/n: i am so glad you requested this! annie deserves so much more love. sorry i took so long to post it, university has just started back for me, so i’m still getting into the groove of things. hope you enjoy, and thanks for the request! xx

attack on titan masterlist  |  general masterlist

It wasn’t cliche. It wasn’t love at first sight through rose-colored glasses. Her heart didn’t skip a beat whenever she saw you, and there definitely weren’t any butterflies fluttering in her stomach. But there was still…

Something.

Something that made her cheeks heat up a little when she caught you looking at her. Something that made her toes curl just the slightest bit when she saw you strip off your shirt after a long day of training. Something that made her breath hitch in her throat every time you gave her that sly smile right before pushing her out of her comfort zone in one way or another. There was always something with you. 

It wasn’t love, but Annie wondered if maybe it could be. 

With that thought swirling around in her head, she looked at you from across the table. For some reason unbeknownst to the blond, you had chosen to sit with her tonight, selecting your spot and placing your tray down without hesitation. She wondered how you were able to do that, to so easily decide what you wanted and go for it. She wondered what it felt like to have the freedom that you so obviously possessed, emotionally and physically. 

Silently, she watched as your fingers tapped out a melody onto the wooden table. It was somewhat erratic, and Annie couldn’t tell if you didn’t know the song that well or if you were just making it up as you went along. No matter, she liked seeing your slender fingers move up and down, all soft skin and nicely trimmed nails. Even your hands were pretty, she thought. 

So focused on your movements, she barely noticed when you spoke up and the tapping stopped. 

“Huh?” Her response came out slightly aggressive, and Annie worried that you might take it the wrong way. When she looked up at you, though, you seemed far away, your chin resting in your palm. 

“Do you think we’ll ever win?” You repeated. Your eyes were staring past the other girl, seeing something in the distance that others couldn’t. “Against the Titans?”

Annie’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch. Seemingly, it was a simple question, a question that Annie knew the answer to. Still, she couldn’t lie to you, instead choosing to answer in the only other way she knew how.

“Not with your uppercut, we can’t.”

You frowned, finally bringing your eyes to meet the icy blues in front of you. You had just sparred with Annie earlier in the day, and she had taken you down more than easily. It was a blow to your confidence, and her comment hurt your feelings a bit. No matter, your inner voice reminded you that that was just how Annie spoke, especially when something was a sensitive topic. You wondered what had bothered her about your question. Taking a deep breath, you debated quipping back, but ultimately decided you were too tired, too burnt out from existing, and all that left your mouth was a quiet hum to acknowledge that you heard her. 

Taking a moment to collect yourself, you looked back down at the table, your eyes tracing the lines in the wood. After a moment, exhaustion overtook you, and you decided you wanted to sleep. Standing up, you lifted your tray and sidled out from the bench, turning away. Just as you were about to leave, Annie’s voice rang through the air.

“You know, you’re more powerful than you think.” Annie’s heart was pounding in her chest as she let the words loose. She couldn’t help but wonder if she would regret her next words, if she’d want to grab them from the air and stuff them right back down her throat until she choked on them. “One person can change a lot.” 

You paused, the tray weighing heavily in your hands. Your back was towards the other girl, but you could feel her eyes piercing into you. With a whisper, you replied, “Thanks.” 

Annie knew very well that you weren’t the strongest cadet, but that in itself wasn’t the issue. The issue was that she also knew all you wanted was to be on the frontlines. You craved the ability to make a difference, whether that be by braiding Sasha’s hair so that it would stay out of the way during training or offering to ride on the very outskirts of the formation, which happened to be exactly what you had done. Thankfully, that offer was quickly refused, stating your newbie status as an automatic disqualification. Annie was able to breathe again when the word ‘no’ was finally spoken by your squad’s superior. Despite this, the disappointed frown on your face was enough for a part of Annie to wish the answer had been ‘yes.’

With a disheartened sigh, you flopped down to sit on the ground of the training area. Annie looked down at you with an unreadable expression, arms crossed. “What’s with you?” She questioned. 

“Hmm?” You gazed up at her, bringing a hand to your forehead and squinting against the harsh sunlight until she took a step to the right to block it from your eyes. You removed your hand, a plum of dirt rising up as you carelessly smacked the ground. 

“Why are you so eager to be Titan food?” She narrowed her eyes, and you swore you heard a bit of anger in her normally neutral voice. “Do you want to die?” She towered over you with daggers of ice in her eyes, and you fought the urge to cower under her harsh stare. 

“No. I just…” You laid back fully as you thought of how to phrase your words. You stared at the sky for a moment before shifting to make eye contact with Annie. “You know that dream that Armin has? About seeing the sea? I don’t share it.” If you had looked a little more closely, you would’ve seen the surprise that marred Annie’s face. Your gaze moved back to the sky, and you lifted a hand to reach towards a trio of birds flying towards the wall. “Everyone here is obsessed with crossing the walls, but I… I don’t mind living in confinement. I’m happy here. I have people like you here.” 

Annie’s chest tightened. You clenched your fist, the birds seemingly trapped inside. A second later, they were free again, flying towards their destination, your fist still hanging in the air. As you exhaled a quiet breath, you dropped your hand back to the ground, spreading your palm to feel the rough dirt underneath it. It was surprisingly cold, contrasting with the heat of the sun, and you hated how it started to warm when you placed your hand over it. 

“I just wanna be safe, you know? I wanna be able to lie on the ground and close my eyes and not have to worry about a Titan invasion happening at any second.” Carefully, you reached up, enveloping Annie’s hand with your own, and pulled her down to lie beside you. She was less hesitant than you thought she might be, seemingly not worried about the dirt coloring her hair brown. Still, there was uncertainty in her eyes as she glanced over at you, but you gave her a soft smile in hopes of easing her nerves. To your pleasant surprise, she let her hand stay in yours, hers a little sweaty from what you assumed was the overbearing heat and yours covered in a fine layer of dirt. Annie wondered if the two of you would create mud if you held hands long enough, and so she decided to keep her hand grasping yours just to see what would happen. 

You went back to facing the sky, but this time, your eyes were closed. Annie watched you silently, matching her breaths with the rise and fall of your chest. They were slow and even, and Annie’s heart rate began to slow, too, finally beating in time with yours. If the blond girl could have frozen this moment, she would have, but instead, she tried her hardest to ingrain the view of your profile into her memories. You could feel her staring at you, desperately fighting the urge to let heat flood your cheeks.

“Annie,” you whispered, “Close your eyes.” It was silent for a moment, but then you heard the telltale sounds of her head shifting, turning to face upwards. You let yourself fully relax, focusing on the feeling of the wind brushing against your eyelashes and the sun bearing down on your skin. This was peace, you thought, to lie here with Annie and do absolutely nothing. You brushed your thumb over Annie’s fingers. “Isn’t this nice? Just being able to live?” You sighed, and finally answered her original question. “I don’t want to die,” you stated. “But I do want to be able to live, and the only way to do that is to remove the threat that hangs so heavily over all of us.” 

At this moment, Annie realized something: you weren’t free either. She had been so envious of you, thinking you held the freedom she craved when in actuality, you were just as trapped as she was. Her chest tightened from the guilt. She was the reason you weren’t able to live. She was the reason you were riding towards your death. She had taken away the one thing you wanted from this world. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she thanked God that your eyes weren’t open. Squeezing her eyes shut a little more, your voice floated into her ears. 

“I want to be able to live like this forever.” You tightened your grasp on her hand. “Don’t you?” 

It took a moment for Annie to build up the courage to let the words leave her mouth, and you patiently waited for her response. 

“Yeah.” The words came out slightly choked, but they were there, and a weight you didn’t know you were carrying was lifted off of your chest. Her next words took you by surprise. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. 

Your eyebrows furrowed, but you kept your eyes closed, not wanting to invade on Annie’s moment of vulnerability. “Why?” You asked. It was a simple question, but Annie didn’t know exactly how to answer. 

Finally, she found the words. “That you can’t live how you want to. I… I understand the feeling.” Her voice was more solid now, but you could still pick up on the emotion that laced it. 

You took a deep breath, opening your eyes and blinking as they adjusted to the sunlight. You sat up slowly, turning to look at Annie who was gazing up at you with wide, blue eyes. You had never seen her look so… fragile. She reminded you of an angel, all ivory skin and blond hair contrasting against the hard, dirty ground. She didn’t belong to the earth like you did, and it had never been more obvious. Still, she had laid down with you, sacrificing her purity to see things from where you gazed. 

You gave her a melancholic smile. “It’s alright. I still have hope for the future.” Annie took a sharp breath in. She hadn’t destroyed everything for you yet, and she let that fact sink in. To her discontent, you released Annie’s hand, brushing the sweat and dirt off onto your pants. You stood up, Annie remaining on the ground, frozen as you spoke your next words. 

“Tomorrow will be different. 57th Exterior Scouting Mission, here we come!”

[casualotptrash]

Fixes to the Persona Series- Social Links

This was originally going to be the whole point 6 in my Fixes to the Persona Series post, but it was basically the same length as points 1-5 combined so I didn’t want to make the post mega-huge.

Link to the whole post about this topic.

(Spoilers for a lot of P3 things, including the plot and second awakenings) 

I’ll start off with this point, something that needs to be fixed for all of the games is that you shouldn’t only get social link points for saying what the person wants to hear. I get the train of thought that if you say what they want to hear they will like you more, but that’s not how real friendships work? Obviously you shouldn’t be saying something that offends them and think it will raise your points, but sometimes people just need to hear things?

I can think of three standout examples: Nozomi in P3 (Gourmet King), Mishima in P5, and Shinya in P5. Nozomi’s link is a hot mess in of itself, but it was very frustrating to at one point just be like “Hey can you chill?” when he’s trying to induct you into a scam/cult or whatever, and it reverses the social link. Like ok buddy fuck you too, I was just trying to say no and that you need to stop scamming people?? For Mishima in P5 (I’ll go more in depth on him in a later post), it’s just kind of strange that you can clearly see him starting to obsess about the PT’s but you can’t really tell him he needs to stop until the social link demands it. Even then, the only way to get points is pretty much to go “Wow Mishima, you’re the best! You’re the reason we exist! We love you!!!” and it just feels kind of wrong. Shinya’s is very much along the same line as that, except you basically have to do something even worse and encourage him to keep being a bully? Thankfully P5 doesn’t reverse confidants, but I probably would have done so with Shinya because I kept telling him he shouldn’t bully others until I realized how to get points with him. It just feels wrong to encourage such behavior until the character suddenly realizes they’ve been acting wrong. No shit, I’ve been trying to say that.

I think social links need quite the fix to them, but this is definitely one of them. Strong, real relationships are not just built upon telling the other person what they want to hear. 

Now I’m going to go into the structure of how social links are made and how they affect the characters. I have so much to say about this it’s not even funny. There are two major parts to this, but the second heavily ties into the first, so I’ll just go through them one at a time while trying to make sense.

The first part is that, simply put, integral character growth should not be tied to social links. The completion/tipping point of a character’s growth seems to be signified by their second awakening taking place. For example, in P3, all of the cast members awaken after a big event happens in game which causes them to grow. Most of this is them learning how to move on past the deaths of their loved ones, but still the idea remains the same. The game still has some pretty significant social links with party members too, so it’s not like the social links really suffered from this. In fact, I would say it made the social links even better, and it did this by fleshing out the characters further.

For this example, I’m going to use Akihiko’s growth from the story and social link in P3P because I feel like I know it quite well and it’s one of the best examples of this.

In the main story, it’s clear that Akihiko has a couple of problems. He’s quick to fight, reckless with his own health, and cant let go of the past. Along with these traits, he also cares very much about his friends. He considers Tartarus to be a training ground, is actually injured for the first few months of the game, scolds the MC, Junpei, and Yukari a bit for going out to the alleyway (where Shinji saved them) because it was dangerous, and desparately wants Shinji to rejoin SEES. Him and Shinji, on multiple occasions, talk about the incident where Shinji killed Ken’s mother. Akihiko says that Shinji needs to let go of the past, and Shinji echoes the same sentiment back at him.

What all of these problems step from is the death of his sister, Miki. They were both young and orphans, along with Shinji, and one day during a fire Shinji held Akihiko back from running back into the burning building. Inside the burning building was Miki, who Akihiko was trying to get to, and sadly she died in the fire (I’m pretty sure all of this isn’t revealed until P3P with his social link, but in any version of the game we find out that Miki is dead). Because of this, he felt powerless and from then on strived to be powerful enough to save those around him, which is why he’s obsessed with training to such a degree that he doesn’t care about personal harm to himself.

All of this eventually comes to a head when Shinji dies in the story, and Akihiko isn’t able to save him. At a memorial for his death, Akihiko says this:

“I was too obsessed with power. Ever since I lost Miki, that's all I've cared about. I thought that if I was strong enough, I could protect anyone. But I was wrong... And now You're gone too... I'm such an idiot. In battle, there's always a chance of dying... I knew that! But I was so focused on fighting that I didn't notice anything else! It didn't matter how tough I was! Look what happened!”

He cries for his friend, and then is reminded that this is not what Shinji would want. He would want him to keep living his life, and finally let go of the ghosts of his past. So, this is what he does. At that point, his character growth basically reaches its climax and he awakens to Caesar. This all happens in the main story of the game.

Now, how did they decide to do his social link in P3P? Personally, I think it was genius. Due to all of that growth being integral to the main story, they could not just take it out and shove it into a social link. They had to find another thing to make the social link about, and instead of making it about something pointless they connect it to the main growth in the game. (Note, this social link is only available in the FeMC route)

In general, what his social link is about mirrors his growth in the main story a lot. In the beginning, he treats the MC with an overwhelming sense of care, almost to a condescending degree. You’re always going out to eat, him saying how much you need to eat to grow strong, and jogging/running with him. Taking out the more romantic parts of the social link (although they are *chefs kiss*), eventually it progresses to the point where he asks you if you can stop being the field leader of SEES. Of course, he immediately takes this back and laments that you couldn’t just do that. You have the option to question if he thinks you arent good enough for the job, and he quickly says that the MC is capable, and he didn’t mean to imply that you werent, but he doesn’t want you to be in danger. The social link is frozen after this, as Akihiko doesn’t know how to balance his overwhelming worry and concern about the MC being hurt.  

After Shinji’s death, the social link continues and he reveals the event of Miki’s death. At one point even says he feels like he doesn’t deserve to live because she died. It’s a very sad event, but because of his resolution from the main story with Shinji’s death he is able to open up to the MC. In the end, he comes to the conclusion that he’ll never get over the anger and sadness he feels for his sister’s death, and he accepts that she is dead, but he feels guilty because he wanted to ask you to bear this burden with him. He also starts to wonder what his feelings toward the MC mean, because he is very conflicted, and admits he might be seeing Miki in you (hence the overwhelming protecting nature he has for you in the link, and slightly condescending big-brother tendencies).

In his rank 9, he admits that he was tired of losing what was important to him. He thought that it would be better not to let things get too important, rather than risk losing them. He realizes this is wrong, and says he now knows he needs to work to protect everything precious from him. If the romance route was taken then he sees you as a precious loved one, while if the romance route is not taken he likens you to the status of Miki, aka a precious sister to him.

As you can see from the synopsis, a lot of what was in the social link is directly tied into his main growth in the story, however it is also not integral to his main growth. It stems off of it, not the other way around. Whoever made the extra social links in P3P did an amazing job at doing this exact thing, perhaps because they couldn’t change the growth in the main story. Either way, it’s a perfect example of how social links should be done.

If you’re interested in watching the growth from the social link directly, here is the link: Akihiko social link rank 1-10

You might be thinking, how is this issue really that big of a problem? Akihiko was a great character before his P3P social link, so if the growth is there either way (in story or social link) then it should be fine. My answer to this is in short, as the series progressed from P3 this problem got worse to the point where it negatively impacts the characters. The reason this got worse and impacts the characters so much, especially with the ones from P5, is because of the nature of how social links are set up. Obviously, social links are optional. They have to be, because not everyone is going to finish all of them in one run. This presents the unique issue of needing to make social links meaningful, but also not necessary. I would think anyone who reads that sentence would immediately understand how those two things do not mix well, especially when almost all of the important character growth is pushed into the social link. I’ll be using the social links (party members specifically) in P5 as my example to illustrate this because they’re the best for this.

At the very best, party member confidants in P5 feel like they contribute a good bit of character development alongside the story (on the surface). At the very worst, confidants in P5 feel like they actively contradict the story. Ann is probably the best example of this, but it happens to the rest of the main cast too, to varying degrees. I’m not as familiar with Ann’s confidant as Akihiko’s, but I’m going to try and do my best.

Essentially, Ann’s confidant is about finding her passion, becoming a stronger person, and overcoming her guilt. Outside of the occasional discussions about Shiho, how strong she is, and Ann discussing how she needs to become strong for her, one of the main things you do in the confidant is help Ann use various methods to be a better model (because she comes to the conclusion that she wants to be serious about modeling, her hobby, since Shiho is trying so hard to get back to her normal life). I have played Persona 5 vanilla twice, and Royal twice, and every time I have completed Ann’s confidant. That being said, it’s kind of sad that I could do it four times and barely remember the “becoming a stronger person” and “overcoming her guilt” part of it (outside of Ann saying Shiho is strong, and Ann asking us to insult her to make her stronger). She does have a very good conclusion with Shiho, and it’s is really sweet to see them hug on the roof and everything, but other than that the main outcome of the confidant is that Ann is going to really try for her modeling career and needs to change her habits because of this. Some of those habits she changes is by eating less junk food, exercising, etc.

Here’s where the issue comes in. You go through this whole confidant and have Ann come to that conclusion, and then throughout multiple scenes (and the rest of the story) Ann adheres to none of it. It’s the most whiplash I’ve ever experienced when one day Ann says she’s going to cut the sweets, and then the next something happens in game and she’s just chowing down on all of the food. To be clear, I do not care if Ann is eating a lot of a little in the grand scheme of things. Like I said, this is just an example that illustrates the total tonal dissonance present from the social link to the main story.

The whole reason this occurs is because, like I said earlier, the confidant has to be meaningful but not necessary to the plot. This is a major problem when pretty much the whole reason for her character growth, the plot with Shiho, is in the confidant. No matter if you do the confidant or not, in the story the characters will always act as if the confidant plot has not happened at all...because they physically cannot write it into the main story as it is optional. The reason this worked with Akihiko was because he had his main growth outside of the social link, and the social link tied into his growth, and the reason this doesn’t work for the P5 cast is because their growth is set up in the opposite way. Instead of tying their main growth in the story to the confidant, the story acts as a stepping stone for their main growth in story of the confidant.

I predict some people might read what I just said and counter with the point “You cant just expect their whole personalities to change,” and they would be right, if that was what I was explaining. It’s not. Obviously base personality traits are always going to be present, but the reason for having character growth is for the characters to grow. Futaba can always be more shy and timid around others, but if you go through her whole confidant where she learns to be more independent and then later on have her go somewhere and completely shut down? That is not growth. Her change can manifest in her being shy about going somewhere new, but adapting to it a lot quicker than she did before the confidant was completed. But, like I said, because of how the confidants are set up this is just not possible.

It took this long to get here, but we finally arrive at how the second point ties in. The second point is that, because of this issue with tying in integral growth with the social link, the characters end up being very one-note in the story (if you take out the inclusion of the social link). In my opinion, P3 doesn’t really suffer from this (although there still are bland characters in that game. Sometimes the writing is just not that exciting. Sorry Fuuka, you’re better in the spinoffs), P4 suffers from it a little (Teddie talking about girls 90% of the time, Yukiko laughing at everything, Meat Chie, etc.), and P5 has the most rampant cases of this.

This doesn’t mean that the characters are not well written, it just means that the game is going to be way more enjoyable if you are able to max everyone’s social link in comparison to only maxing a few. Putting aside the gameplay benefits, I usually love my NG+ runs more than my first run because it allows me to see all of the characters so much more.

I know that all of the characters could be shoved into stereotypical boxes if we had to, but we basically don’t need to for P5. If you do not do any confidants with party members in P5, tell me how many times Ryuji shows his remorseful and caring side for the trouble he has caused the track team in the main story. Oh wait, you can’t! He’s pushed around as the proverbial butt-monkey for almost the entire game, and at least Junpei and Yosuke got some deeper interaction with the story when they were in this role. If you only experience Ryuji from the main plot, you’d probably want to throttle him with how many times he ogles at Ann, argues with Morgana, tries to pick up girls, and shouts about being a Phantom Thief and wanting fame.

I will admit, they do have some deep moments here and there, when the main story calls for it, but other than that (again, without doing the social link) the PT’s kind of have as much characterization as a piece of cardboard. This is a big problem, especially when the cast is full of great characters! I played P5 4 times, and it still isn’t my favorite cast. There are some really good characters in there, but they just could not compare to the P3 cast for me (even though P3 was filled with a lot of highs and a lot of lows). Yukari was kind of a bitch and I didn’t like her for a long time, but at least I felt something! Poor Haru is just shoved off into a corner and characterized as the “team mom but would kill you, sad her father died, also has a crush on you” for the whole game unless you do her confidant.

Jury is still out on the P4 cast, because I see a little bit of what P3 had going on and what P5 does in them. Every time Yosuke is talking about something serious or profound I get really excited, only for it to be followed up with some dumb (usually homophobic) joke. I like the extra interactions the P4 cast has in comparison to P5, but even in those situations it feels like each member is kind of cast into their stereotypical role (Teddie want pussy, Yukiko laugh, Chie meat, etc.). I imagine once I do finish P4G and get to do my NG+ I will like the cast a lot more, but only because I will be able to do all of their social links.

Despite all of this, whether a character from the game has great growth or not, you can always count on Atlus to flanderize each character into their one “defining” (aka memed) trait to hell and back in any spinoff.

Sorry, don’t mind me crying in the corner with how Akihiko was massacred from a deep character into a protein junkie.

[writingonesdreams]

Novel prep tag game

WIP Stormkeeper new version

I always end up doing this thingy when the concept is changing XD this like my, what, 6th novel prep tag? Always helps.

FIRST LOOK

1. Describe your novel in 1-2 sentences (elevator pitch)

Cultural scientist Acacia can finally realize her dream of doing field notes in different mage regions, but has to team up with a cold and judgemental bodyguard and his careless dragon-shifting brother in the process.

The story is basically about three exceptional people that don't fit in in various ways - Wes by nature, Kyler by force and Acacia because of her interests - and how they deal with it.

2. How long do you plan for your novel to be? (Is it a novella, single book, book series, etc.)

One novel, maybe a series later on.

3. What is your novel’s aesthetic?

Trains, mountains, cities, lakes and fog, spirts, sandstorms and hurricanes, rain. 

4. What other stories inspire your novel?

Naruto, Frozen 2, Mash, Spirited Away, Princess Mononoke, Star Wars, Atla, Avatar, The greatest Showman. 

5. Share 3+ images that give a feel for your novel

MAIN CHARACTER

6. Who is your protagonist?

The protagonist Acacia drives the story with her goal of acquiring field notes for her research. But both Kyler and Wes are main and pov characters.

Acacia is analytical scientist and a imaginative dreamer, passionate but insecure inside. Her quick mind and abstract philosophic thought process is hard to keep up with.

7. Who is their closest ally?

Her reluctant bodyguard Kyler is son of one of the most significant Pulsor families and the most powerful and dedicated Pulsor mage (controls lighting) of his generation - but rather cold and closed off.

Kyler's younger brother Wes is the reincaratnion of a dragon - the rarest and most ancient spirits - basically a god. Mischievous, reckless but cunning, he has never been allowed to leave home before.

8. Who is their enemy?

There are no enemies per se. There are obstacles, energy thieves and Phatoms on the way, people that mean harm when they see someone different, but there is no antagonist. 

9. What do they want more than anything?

Acacia wants to make ethnographic research on the similarities between magic types and the ways of expression and attitude that add up to be the same thing - people living their lives and looking at the world through the taught lenses of their respective magical culture. 

10. Why can’t they have it?

Doing research in different regions is hard, because travelling between regions is limited and dangerous. There are Phatoms, energy thieves and people that hate differences and loathe people interested in magic not their own. 

In the end the biggest obstacle is probably the way hybrid magicians are loathed - it’s considered a betrayal and weakness not to follow one’s born in type and learn other ones as well. Something Acacia loves, and other people like Wes could use.

11. What do they wrongly believe about themselves?

Kyler believes he has failed. Wes that he is not enough. Acacia that magic is the most magical thing. 

12. Draw your protagonist! (Or share a description)

Commissioned art:

Kyler / Acacia / Wes

PLOT POINTS

13. What is the internal conflict?

Acacia’s internal conflict is mostly about staying true to her belief that different magics can coexist and learn from each other. She is the impact and main driving character of the story - she changes the others and struggles to stay true to herself and her love for different magics and learning from them. 

Kyler’s conflict is about his perfectionalism that was recenltly ruined by his kindapping by the Shadow Cult that forced a magic upon him he hates and he can’t forgive himself for being weak enough to succumb to it. It's something that was forced upon him but became part of him nonetheless.

Wes deals with his original spirit memories not returning as they should.

14. What is the external conflict?

Acacia’s external conflict is about her love for Sight, ability to see nature spirits on another plane of existence and the danger she might lose connection to reality and her body if she spends too much time in it. 

Kyler’s conflict is dealing with the very real consequences of Shadow Craft magic being now part of him. It’s always there when he is torn or angry or hurt, crawling under his skin and he hates he can’t control it completely. 

Wes’s conflict is about finding a balance between his love for his family and the human world and the foreign yearning for his wilder dragon side. 

15. What is the worst thing that could happen to your protagonist?

For Acacia to lose her connection to her body by not being able to stay in the moment. 

For Kyler it would losing control of Shadow Craft and having it rule him.

For Wes it would be being abondoned by his family and brother and losing the life he has when his memories come back and he finds out about his spirit life. 

16. What secret will be revealed that changes the course of the story?

No magic is really bad. Or good. The key is balance and intent.  

17. Do you know how it ends?

I can envision several ending scenes that would fit, they all mostly fit together. 

BITS AND BOBS

18. What is the theme?  

The main theme is self-worth, from self-understanding, acceptance of who you are with all the sides and flaws and yearnings and self-love and confidence in who you are and going after what resonates with you. Keeping the storm inside you alive so to say. 

19. What is a recurring symbol?  

Storms? XD The symbols representing each of the four main magics are moon sicle, sun, lightning bolt and a spiral. 

20. Where is the story set? (Share a description!)

It’s set in modern age in a made up country divided into four regions accoriding to its dominating magic practice. These are also very different in landscapes - from mountain village of Pulsors, skyscapers of Aurals, lake bungallows of Sensors to deserts of Resonants. 

21. Do you have any images or scenes in your mind already?

The big tentpole scenes are pretty sure, the rest I will figure as I go. 

22. What excited you about this story?  

The way I can use magic types as metaphors for fictional cultures and explore their related views and approaches. The different value systems are much clearer in such a excessive example. 

Also all my favourite tropes fit into the story! From rivals to lovers, brothers, trio dynamics, gradual friendships, bodyguards, spirits, Shifters, reincarnations, dragons, healing, deeling with the fixed and growth mindset, perfectionalism and vulnerbility, how to stay in the present moment, how to find balance, different ways to express emotions, how to deal with differences, understanding vs tolerance vs acceptance, how to find - cope - stay true as well as have faith and confidence in who you are...all questions I'm personally very curious about.

23. Tell us about your usual writing method!  

Building and living with characters in countless AUs, finding their arcs and a story to best realize them, magic system, themes and thematic questions I want to explore, finding a story to frame those, brainstorming, outlining and hopefully writing before the idea loses its spark. 

***

Tagging if you want to play: @catharticallysarcastic @akindofmagictoo @estrella-writings @zielenbloesem @waysofink

[dweemeister]

NOTE: This is the third film released theatrically during the COVID-19 pandemic that I am reviewing – I saw Raya and the Last Dragon at the Regency Theatres Directors Cut Cinema’s drive-in operation in Laguna Niguel, California. Because moviegoing carries risks at this time, please remember to follow health and safety guidelines as outlined by your local, regional, and national health officials.

Raya and the Last Dragon (2021)

As Raya and the Last Dragon, directed by Don Hall and Carlos López Estrada and written by Qui Nguyen and Adele Lim, made its theatrical and streaming bow, the United States was grappling with a wave of highly-publicized hate incidents towards Asian-Americans in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic. This spike in racially-motivated verbal abuse, assaults, and homicides began with the pandemic and, frustratingly, had only been receiving national attention in these last few weeks. Despite the nation’s racist origins entwined with chattel slavery of black people and its continued unequal treatment of minorities including Asian-Americans, I am not qualified to say if the U.S. is “more” or “less racist” than other countries. But I can hardly think of any other people that interrogate racial inequality and oppression as much (and as publicly) as Americans – an undeniable strength. There was no way Raya and the Last Dragon’s cast and crew could have anticipated the film’s fraught timing, but the film provides a much-needed, positive, and heavily flawed, action-adventure romp drawn from Southeast Asian cultures.

The very notion that Walt Disney Animation Studios was attempting to craft a film using an amalgam of Southeast Asian cultures stoked my excitement and dread. Southeast Asian cultures – including, but not limited to, Cambodia, Indonesia, Laos, Malaysia, Myanmar, the Philippines, Thailand, and Vietnam – are often lumped into those of East Asia (China, Korea, Japan), which dominate Asian-American depictions or Asian-influenced media in the United States. What gave me pause is that Disney’s track record in films featuring non-European-inspired characters and places inspired by non-European cultures is mixed. Aladdin (1992) and Pocahontas (1995) are aggregations of (and indulge in stereotypes towards) Arabs and indigenous Americans alike, especially in their presentations of “savagery” (Pocahontas in particular is guilty of false equivalences).

Cultural aggregations in fictional settings are not insensitive, per se. Yet, Disney’s stated intentions on this film are undermined by a voice cast ensemble almost entirely composed of actors of Chinese and Korean descent – you can bring up Adele Lim’s response to the voice casting controversy all you want, but her response contradicts the film’s promotion. Amid its gorgeous production and character design, Raya manages to avoid the worst mistakes of its Disney Renaissance predecessors. But its hero’s journey is too cluttered and too littered with the anachronistic and metatextual jokes plaguing the last decade’s Disney animated features.

Five centuries before the events of Raya and the Last Dragon, the land of Kumandra saw its people live in harmony with dragons. That relationship, however, would be devastated by the appearance of the Druun – a swirling, purple vortex that turns living beings into stone. In the conflict against the Druun, the last dragon, Sisu (Awkwafina), makes a fateful sacrifice to save Kumandra by concentrating the dragons’ collective power into a magical orb. Soon after, Kumandra’s five tribes – Fang, Heart, Spine, Tail, and Talon (named after parts of a dragon) – fight amongst each other for control of the orb (Heart eventually gains possession of it), effectively partitioning the land. In the present day, the Heart tribe’s Chief Benja (Daniel Dae Kim) proposes and hosts a feast-summit to discuss and heal Kumandra’s divisions. Benja has taught his daughter, Raya (Kelly Marie Tran), the ways of a warrior and the necessity for Kumandra’s tribes to realize their oneness. At the feast-summit, Raya befriends Namaari (Gemma Chan; Jona Xiao as young Namaari), the daughter of Fang Chief Virana (Sandra Oh). Predictably, Namaari betrays her new friend in an orchestrated ploy to pilfer the dragons’ orb for Fang. Just as the Druun make a surprise invasion of Heart, the botched heist sees the orb break into five, and each of the tribes makes off with part of the orb. It will be up to Raya to recover the other four pieces of the orb, lest Kumandra succumb to the Druun.

The film’s screenplay is, charitably, a mess. Though Qui Nguyen (primarily a playwright) and Adele Lim (2018’s Crazy Rich Asians) are the credited screenwriters, Raya’s phalanx of story credits (mostly full-time, white employees at the Disney studios) suggest studio interference. Raya seems as if it is trying to cleanly differentiate certain tribes as based on a certain Southeast Asian nation. Instead, it comes off as a brew of mish-mashed parts (this problem extends to the otherwise stunning animation). With the exception of those from the militant Fang, the bit characters from the various tribes do not behave any differently from the members of other tribes. The partition of Kumandra, five hundred years before the events of Raya, feels like as if it had never existed for lengthy stretches in this film.

After Kelly Marie Tran, as Raya, narrates the mythology and history of Kumandra in the opening minutes, the film’s structure tethers itself predictably to the monomyth. The fracturing of the dragon’s orb into five parts sends Raya onto a tedious adventure: the physical travel to a new part of Kumandra, introduction of a sidekick (all of them are comic reliefs), an action setpiece involving a necessary assist from new sidekick, and the integration of that sidekick into Raya’s ever-growing party. Lather, rinse, repeat. To squeeze the four other tribes into the film’s 107-minute runtime and set up a climax and resolving actions results in a frantically-paced movie. Almost all of the film’s dialogue is subservient to its structure, the hero’s journey. This disallows the viewer to learn more about our lead and her fellow adventurers. In arguably the most important example in how the dedication to story structure undermines the characters, take Raya’s repeated mentions to her newfound confidants that she has difficulty trusting others. Six years have passed since the day of Namaari’s betrayal and Raya’s discovery of Sisu. How has Raya’s sense of distrust evolved over time, and how does it manifest towards those of other tribes? Does it appear in moments without consequence to her quest, in gusts of casual cruelty? In terms of characterization, Raya is showing too little and telling just the basics – a dynamic that also applies to the film’s most important supporting characters.

Ever since Tangled (2010), the films of the Disney animated canon have increased their use of metatextual and anachronistic humor (e.g. Kristoff’s comment about Anna’s engagement to a person she just met in 2013’s Frozen and Maui’s Twitter joke in 2016’s Moana that still makes me gnash my teeth when I think about it). Invariably, the success of the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) has seen its brand of pathos-destroying humor bleed into the Disney animated canon and Star Wars. Like so many films in the Disney animated canon, Raya takes place in a fantastical location in a never-time far removed from the present. From the moment Raya meets Sisu, the circa-2020s humor is ceaseless. For Disney animated movies set in fantastical worlds, this sort of humor suits films that are principally comedies, such as The Emperor’s New Groove (2000) – a work that owes more to Looney Tunes than anything Disney has created. Instead, Raya’s comedy will suit viewers who frequent certain corners of the Internet, “for the memes.” Do Disney’s animation filmmakers believe the adults and children viewing their films so impatient and unintelligent about human emotions? That they will not accept a scene that deals honestly with betrayal, disappointment, heartbreak, or loss unless there is a snide remark or visual gag inserted within said scene or shortly afterward?

Raya seems like a film set to portray its scenarios with the gravity they require. But overusing Awkwafina’s Awkwafina-esque jokes and a DreamWorks- or Illumination Entertainment-inspired infant causing meaningless havoc will subvert whatever emotions Nguyen and Lim are attempting to evoke. These statements are not arguing that Raya and Disney’s animated films should be humorless, that Disney should stop casting an Awkwafina or an Eddie Murphy as comic relief. Instead, Raya is another case study in how Disney’s brand of ultramodern humor is overtaking their films’ integral dramatics. Raya is noisy, clamorous – no different than anything Disney has released in the last decade, save Winnie the Pooh (2011).

Production designers Helen Mingjue Chen, Paul A. Felix, and Cory Loftis have worked on films like Wreck-It Ralph (2012), Big Hero 6 (2014), or Zootopia (2016). Each of these films feature glamorous, near-future metropolises or sleek digital worlds. Where the tribespeople of Kumandra might not be behaviorally-differentiated, the color coding, lighting, and biomes of each of the five lands comprising Kumandra ably distinguishes Fang, Heart, Spine, Tail, and Talon from each other. As if taking cues from the production designs of Big Hero 6’s San Fransokyo and, to some extent, The King and I (1956), it is difficult to pin down specific influences on the clashing architectural styles within the lands, in addition to the unusually empty and cavernous palaces and temples and varying costumes. As picturesque as some of these lands are, the art direction does not help to empower the characteristic of the tribes and their native lands. Nor does James Newton Howard’s thickly-synthesized grind of an action score, which prefers to accompany the film’s excellent combat scenes rather than stake a clearer thematic identity for its own. Howard uses East and Southeast Asian instrumentations and influences in his music, but, disappointingly, they are heavily processed through synthetic elements and are played underneath the film’s sound mix.

Character art directors Shiyoon Kim (Tangled, 2018’s Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse) and Ami Thompson (2017’s MFKZ, 2018’s Ralph Breaks the Internet) embrace the (generally) darker and varying skin complexions of Southeast Asian peoples. The skin textures are among the best ever produced in a Disney CGI-animated feature, and the variety of face shapes – although still paling in comparison to the best hand-drawn features – is a pleasure to witness.

The number of films starring actors/voice actors of Asian descent (all-Asian or majority-Asian), animated or otherwise, and released by a major Hollywood studio makes for a brief list. Raya and the Last Dragon joins an exclusive club that includes the likes of The Dragon Painter (1919), Go for Broke! (1951), Flower Drum Song (1961), The Joy Luck Club (1993), and Crazy Rich Asians (2018). Among those movies, Raya is the only entry specifically influenced by Southeast Asian cultures. Its cast may be headlined by Kelly Marie Tran (whose skill as a voice actor is one of the film’s most pleasant surprises), but most of the roles went to those of Chinese or Korean descent. No disrespect intended towards Gemma Chan, Sandra Oh, or veteran actress Lucille Soong, but the majority East Asian cast only serves to further monolithize Asians – as the amalgamated story, plot details, and production design have already done. I will not second-guess any fellow person of Southeast Asian descent if they feel “seen” through Raya. What a compliment that would be for this film. How empowering for that person. But the life experiences of those of East Asian and Southeast Asian descent are markedly different. Disney’s casting decisions in Raya – all in the wake of the disastrous Western and Eastern reception of the live-action Mulan (2020) – have revealed a fundamental lack of effort or understanding about the possibilities of a sincere attempt at representation.

To this classic film buff, the discourse surrounding Raya strikes historical chords. When Flower Drum Song was released to theaters, the film was labeled by the American mainstream as the definitive Asian-American movie. Opening during the height of the American Civil Rights Movement, the film (and the musical it adapts) looked like nothing released by Hollywood (and on Broadway) at that time. In that midcentury era of rising racial consciousness and the lack of opportunities for Asian-Americans in Hollywood, the marking of Flower Drum Song as the absolute pan-Asian celebration was bound to happen – however unfair the distinction. Even though Rodgers and Hammerstein (two white Jewish men who made well-meaning, problematic attempts to craft musicals decrying racial prejudice and social injustices) composed the musical and zero Asian people worked behind the camera, those labels remained. With some differences in who wrote the source material, The Joy Luck Club and Crazy Rich Asians have followed Flower Drum Song’s fate in their categorizations. Will Raya? Time will be the judge, the only judge.

Before time passes judgment, we have some present-day hints. Though not released by major studios, the quick succession of The Farewell (2019) and Minari (2020) point to an experiential specificity that Raya attempts, but never comes close to achieving. Whether through aggregation or specificity, Hollywood benefits from the perspectives of underrepresented groups. Widespread claims that Raya too closely copies Nickelodeon’s Avatar: The Last Airbender (2005-2008) reflect that dearth of East Asian and Southeast Asian representation in American media. For too many, ATLA is the Asian fantasy. These simplistic observations and bad-faith criticisms (one could rebuke Disney’s vaguely-European princess films on the same principles, but I find this as lazy as the bad-faith ATLA criticisms) also suggest a lack of understanding that Asian-inspired stories are drawing from similar tropes codified by Asian folklore and narratives centuries old. If one reads through this reviewer’s write-ups, you will find an abiding faith in the major Hollywood studios – past, present, and future – to be artistically daring and to genuinely represent long-excluded persons. Many might see this faith as misplaced. But even in the major studios’ flawed attempts to depict underrepresented groups, like Raya, they concoct astonishing sights and form moving links to the cinematic past.

Assuming you have not skipped to this paragraph, the write-up that you have read may seem scathing to your eyes. Raya is no Disney classic – there has not been one for some time. However, I thoroughly enjoyed my first viewing of Raya. After a few weeks’ worth of keeping my agony private over the recent uproar over attacks on persons of Asian descent in America, it was a surreal experience to see even an amalgamated celebration of Southeast Asian culture. Over this last year, we have lost people and things that emboldened us and ennobled us. In this season of unbelonging and otherizing feelings for Asians in America, Raya’s timing is fortuitous. It is emboldening and ennobling.

My rating: 6/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL).

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

[certifiedskywalker]

Making the Most of This - Carol Danvers

Carol is back on Earth for an in-person conference. After hours of meetings, updates, and tactical planning, you and Carol decide to make the most of her time on the planet. What that means to you and what that means to Carol happens to be one in the same.

You slumped back against the hair the minute the holographic visage of Rocket’s raccoon form flickered out of sight. An instinctive sigh fell from your lips as you settled in the laid back seat with your eyes closed. For a moment, you forgot where you were and everything that had happened. That moment was peaceful, almost serene. At least it was until you heard someone clear their throat.

“Comfortable?” You peeled one eye open and saw Natasha, strong arms crossed against her chest, staring at you. Under her piercing eyes, you sat up and feigned a sense of alertness.

“Sorry, just-“ A small, muffled laugh cut you off from the other side of the conference table. You glanced up and felt your face go warm.

“Someone’s tired,” Carol mused with a smile. Lingerings of her laughter were spread along her features: her bright brown eyes and rosy cheeks.

“Y-Yeah, a bit, I guess.” Your whole body tensed under Carol’s soft gaze and you wanted to disappear. Silently, you wished for the power of invisibility to be bestowed upon you that very moment. Maybe Thor knew someone that could do that. 

“Tired or not, don’t forget about those reports.” Natasha dipped her head towards a slight stack of folders balanced on the conference table. You sighed at the sight and nodded.

“I won’t.”

“Good,” Natasha gave you a closed-lip smile before she turned to Carol. “You’re heading out?” 

Carol nodded, her long blonde hair spilling over her shoulders. “Tomorrow.”

“So I’ll see you in the morning?” Carol nodded again and Natasha sighed. “Alright then. Y/N, those reports.”

“You got it,” you gave Natasha a thumbs up that the assassin did not see as she strode out of the conference room. You let your hands fell to the table’s surface with a ‘thwack’ and the impact stung your knuckles.

“You alright?” Carol’s voice pulled you out of the thoughts threatening to drown you. When you looked up and across to her, the superpowered woman’s brow was knitted with concern. “Y/N?”

“Yeah, like you said, just tired.” Carol pressed her lips in a thin line and you couldn’t help but smile. With Carol, it was easy to tell when she was thinking. And when she thought, she had such an innocent, almost excited expression on her face. It was a face full of possibility; something you hadn’t seen since Thanos, since the snap. 

“Do you maybe...want to get out of here?” Your smiled faltered at her question. You hadn’t been prepared for that possibility. “To blow off some steam?”

“I-I,” you stammered. Panicked you glanced around the room until your gaze landed on the pile of folders stack on the table. “The, I have the reports.”

“Oh, yeah,” Carol’s disappointment was written plainly across her features. Instantly, you regretted even speaking. 

“But, I mean, it’s your last night on Earth for…” you gestured to the air with a shrug.

“For a while,” Carol answered for you. “A few planets have reached out to me so, I have to go soon and...I don’t know when I’ll be back.” You nodded and tried not to show your sadness. You liked Carol, like, liked Carol. Not seeing her or having her around all the time would make the Avengers Compound all the more lonely. 

“So, I think Nat would understand if I showed you around…”

“Around here?” Carol asked, pointing to the conference table. 

“No! No,” you waved your hands and shook your head. “Around the city, maybe?” 

Carol beamed. “Yes. I would like that.”

“And Nat would totally understand,” you said confidently. As if speaking the image of Natasha’s smiling, nodding, and understanding face into existence. 

“Totally,” Carol agreed. She stood up quickly with a smile so bright you swore she was a living and breathing star. “You wanna go?”

“Yes!”

“So, you like the city?”

“Yeah, it’s cute.”

“Cute?” You raised a brow and Carol shrugged with a small grin.

“What, you want the truth?” You squinted your eyes at her before nodding. “Well then, this place smells. Like really smells.” 

You let out a laugh. “Thank you, for your honesty.”

“You’re very welcome,” Carol bowed slightly as you stopped before a crosswalk.

 The night air carried with it a chill and you had to pull your jacket closer over your chest. Somehow, Carol seemed unfazed by the cold in her tight black t-shirt. The jacket she had been wearing was thrown lazily over her shoulder. You watched as she glanced around at the bright and colorful street signs. She seemed unimpressed.

You sighed at the sight and Carol raised a brow at you. “What?”

“You’re bored,” you said flatly. 

“Am not,” Carol countered. You gave her an incredulous look. “I’m just...thinking.”

“About what then?” You leaned against the stop sign’s pole and watched Carol. She didn’t seem disingenuous. On the contrary, she seemed collected. 

“I want to do something.” Carol smiled as she spoke, her brown eyes alight with excitement. If you forgot everything that had happened, forgot what originally brought Carol into your life, you could almost feel completely happy. 

“Like what?” Carol threw her hands up unknowingly, but her smile remained. She glanced around the street signs and storefronts again, taking in every possibility.

“I have no idea,” she laughed finally. Her brown eyes locked with your gaze and you felt your grin widen. “I just…”

You watched Carol’s eyes drift over your head to across the street. Her mouth fell open with shock and you had to turn to see what had caught her attention. 

When you did, you saw a pair of glowing, green scissors that, every few seconds, made a chopping motion. However, it wasn’t the elaborate neon sign that had so enraptured Carol. No, it was the ‘OPEN’ sign beneath it that gave off a welcoming red light. You glanced back at Carol only to find she was reaching for your hand.

“C’mon,” she cheered as she pulled you across the street. The wind whipped around you but you weren’t cold. Not when Carol was so close to you. When she was around, it was hard to be anything but warm. 

“And we are all done! What do you think?” You looked up from the magazine you had busied yourself with to where Carol sat in a salon chair. The zine had been a poor attempt to distract yourself so that you didn’t ogle at Carol while she got her hair down. It had worked, for the most part, but when you looked up, the booklet fell instantly from your grasp. 

“I think it looks great!” Carol beamed at her reflection in the mirror before her as the stylist spun her chair around. “What do you think, Y/N?”

It was hard to think anything. Only the sound of your heart pounding in your ears filled your mind. Carol’s hair had been cut short, into a sharp pixie cut. Strands of blonde hair fell into her face as she stood up and you felt your whole body ache with longing. “Y/N?”

“I-I, it looks amazing. You look amazing.” You weren’t surprised when you felt your face grow red hot, but what did surprise you was how Carol’s cheeks became a soft pink. Part of you wanted to stay like that. Just staring, one marveling at the other, and wondering where they had come from and why they had chosen to spend their time like this. 

But you looked away. You tore your gaze from Carol’s and waited by the door of the salon while the stylist rung up Carol’s payment. It proved difficult to keep your eyes off of her. When she laughed at something the stylist said, you watched her and tried to ignore the pointless jealousy that kept up your spine. Carol was leaving tomorrow, there was no point in getting angry now. 

“Thanks again,” Carol shouted as you held the door open for her. The stylist waved as you walked back out into the night. “So, where to next?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, letting your eyes fall from Carol’s. “It’s your last night. You should decide.” You heard Carol let out a thoughtful hum and you looked back up at her. Her lips were pressed together, her normally thinking habit, but they were turned down into a frown. Did she feel it too?

That pressure of her absence that was weighing them both down. Did Carol feel the resounding echo of loneliness that would fill the void she would leave in your heart? She must have, right? She had super everything: supervision, super hearing, and super emotions. However, it must have been just you projecting because Carol turned around with her new hair cut and smiled at you.

“Frozen yogurt!”

“I still don’t understand how yogurt can be vegan,” you mused as you scooped another spoonful of the cold treat into your mouth. 

“Vegan?” Carol didn’t look at you when she asked. The sound of her spoon scraping against the bottom of her carton made you smile. At least she liked one thing about Earth; even if it wasn’t you or the way you wanted her to like you.

“Without animal products,” you explained. Carol made a face of realization before she sat back on the park bench you had claimed. 

“That was good,” she sighed. You laughed at her posture: she was leaned so far back she resembled an old man stuck in a lazy boy recliner after a much too large meal. You watched as she sat up suddenly, bright brown eyes scanning over the park until she found a trashcan.

“Are you…”

“Just watch.” Without waiting for another second, Carol chucked the empty frozen yogurt cup in the air. You watched, mouth open wide in shock, as the cup landed perfectly in the trash bin that was, at least, five yards away.

“Whoa,” you laughed. “Way to use your powers for good.”

“Hey, littering is evil,” Carol said, with a jokingly serious tone. “It’s one of the many superpower perks.” You laughed softly and shook your head. Ever since you had surrounded yourself with superpowered people, your life had only grown more dangerous.

“Not enough perks to outweigh the struggle.” You said it with a smile, a bittersweet one, but a smile all the same. So, when Carol didn’t smile too, you backtracked. “I mean-”

“No, you’re right. It’s hard most of the time.” You nodded and gave her a sorry frown. Silence fell between you, an unwelcomed visitor to your park-bench-haven until Carol spoke up once more. “How have you been...after everything and…”

“After Thanos?” You asked, setting your yogurt cup to the side. Carol nodded, her joking demeanor now lightyears away. “Alright, I guess. What about you?”

“If I’m honest,” Carol shrugged, “not good. The only thing keeping me up is the fact that there are whole planets that still need help recovering.”

“But you haven’t recovered yourself,” you pointed out, “that’s not good.” Carol shrugged again and you felt something twinge in your heart. 

“I don’t think anyone has really recovered.” You nodded in agreement and let your gaze fall to the pavement below your feet. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” You felt something knock against your shoulder, something warm and you looked up. Carol’s hand rested on your upper back in a touch that you wished you could bottle and save forever. 

“The Avengers Compound is just...empty. Everyone is grim, except for Steve. But he hasn’t come around lately. It’s like no one can even try to be happy.”

“Y/N,” Carol began with a gentle voice, “you know that it’s hard.”

“I do but...I just know if I let myself think about it, I’ll drown too. I’ll become cold like Nat or distant like Steve and everything will suck. I want to make the most of this life. We got lucky. Others didn’t.”

Carol nods but stays quiet. Her expression revealed nothing to you and you wanted to cry. You knew that the moment she left, you would fall back into a routine devoid of any hope or joy. The endless stack of reports would only grow and Natasha would stay bitter. It felt like you were alone; with Carol, you felt like anything was possible.  

“You’re right,” Carol says suddenly. You hold her gaze and furrow your brow.

“What?”

“You’re right,” Carol repeated. Before you could respond, Carol’s lips knocked against yours. It was a rushed kiss, another possibility that you hadn’t taken into account. However rushed it was, you melted into it. It wasn’t the first time you had felt Carol’s softness, but it was the first time you had felt it so passionately. So it pained you when she pulled away.

“Wh-What was that?” You asked and Carol smiled. She rested her forehead against your and you felt her breath tickle the skin of your neck.

“Me, making the most of this life.”

“Oh….” You breathed, still reeling from the kiss. Carol pulled away from you at your hesitation. Her brown eyes were wide and you could feel her panic.

“Sorry, I should have-“ You smiled as she rambled before you leaned back in to stop her. Your lips met hers and you felt Carol hum in contentment. Her hand lifted to your face and you felt your own hands wander to her waist. Then they traveled up to her hair; the short strands were soft from their recent treatment and you gave them a small tug.

The rest of the world faded to black. Reality and its sorrows could wait a few more moments. You had Carol and you wanted to savor that for as long as you could. You would make the most of this, even if it killed you.

[angelkurenai]

Better late than never - Dean Winchester x Reader

Title: Better late than never

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: imagine that you’ve been stood up by your douche of a boyfriend on date night and the waitress keeps asking if you’re ready to order but you keep asking for more time hoping that he’s just late. people are starting to look at you with those apologetic looks like they know and you start to feel worse and worse about the whole situation but as you decide to just get up and leave, this boy you’ve never seen sits down explaining loudly “sorry i’m so late, babe, traffic is crazy right now.” and he quietly adds, “i’m Dean. just go with it, yeah? whoever didn’t bother to show up is a dick.” and so you do go with it because he’s being sweet and trying to save you.

You wished you had not listened to her. You wished so bad you had not listened to her. Maybe a bit less than you wished you had not told her a single thing about your failing – if not non-existent – love life but that was probably something you couldn't hide. Much like nearly everything else the woman you called your best friend was impeccable at getting it out of without even so having to try hard. Sometimes it even happened without you realizing it. She'd get any information she wanted out of you in a matter of seconds, to the point that after all these years you didn't even try and hide anything from her. There were times were you could swear Natasha Romanoff was actually some sort of spy, with interrogationskills that even the best-trained ones would envy, if you didn't know that she was head and overseeing orphans in more than one orphanages around the city.

Be that as it may, and despite how full her days were, Natasha always seemed to find the right amount of time to nag you about your personal life and what you could do about it. She had on more than one occasions tried to pair you up with friends of hers and although – you could admit it to yourself but never to her because she would only insist even worse – they were all incredibly attractive and great fun to be around, you had refused to go on a date, even though it had been incredibly hard to resist, with any of them simply because it would make things terribly awkward if things didn't work out.

That didn't mean that the woman was going to give up, no, by no means. If all her friends or colleagues were not an option for you then she was moving onto other options that could work out for you. You didn't know nor really wanted to ask where she kept finding all those guys that you ended up turning down ultimately, anyway.

After having one of the most terrible break-ups of a incredibly failed relationship you weren't anywhere near ready to beout there again. You had buried yourself deep in your work and dedicated as much time as you had left in treating yourself better. You were even considering of getting a pet, after having redecorated your apartment and nearly came up with something out of your dreams that you had not had the will or time for before. Everything was going great and yet Natasha saw that something was missing in your life and was set to find that something, or rather, someone for you.

And that was exactly how you found yourself sitting in a table for two, staring at an empty seat in front of you despite how much you tried to force yourself not to.

“Hello and welcome!” the waitress smiled at you as she handed you the menu “Would you like a few minutes to look over at out menu or do you already know what you'd like to have today?”

You appreciated her kind smile that seemed genuine for once, managing to make you relax. You gave her one return but shook your head before speaking the words you were dreading to “No uhm thank you, but I'm waiting for my... date to arrive so if you could please leave another one here that would be great too.”

“Of course.” the smile didn't fade and you were thankful for that despite how your words came out in a bit of a shaky voice. She nodded her head, placing carefully another menu in front of the seat that was opposite from you and left you on your own.

Wether that was a good thing or not you still had not figured it out. On one hand, it was good to not have someone over your head waiting and making seconds feel like hours until your date showed up. You still winced at the mere thought of the word. Having said it out loud to the waitress made realization set down on you and it was even more terrifying than you had ever imagined. There were a million ways this could go wrong and that was exactly why you hated blind dates. On the other hand, you hated to be that girl, alone, on a table for two, waiting for a date that in the worst case scenario – and it was one of those million possibilities you had thought of – might not even show up.

You had not shown up much earlier than you were supposed to. In fact at this point he was the one already late by ten minutes but you didn't want to think much about it. You tried to find an excuse, any excuse, as to why he would be late and yes there were plenty so you had no reason to be sulking or looking at the empty chair every ten seconds. Or so you told yourself. Because no matter how much you tried to look confident and not bothered by the the lack of his presence, there it all slipped away and you looked either at the seat or even worse the door.

This was why you hated blind dates. And it wasn't being on your own in nice place like this. You'd just order something nice, relax and call it a night. You made no big deal out of it. It was the people around you that did and that- that was the worst.

You could practically feel their stares at the clock kept ticking by, ten minutes turning into fifteen turning twenty turning into thirty with no sight of your date, and you wished so bad you had brought a book with you. Scrolling through your phone, interested or not in your feed, seemed like an act of desperation made by a woman who has been stood up by her date. And while that on its was as bad as it could get, the looks of pity from people around were what made it terrible.

The waitress was far too kind for your own good but even as she asked you two more times if you wanted to order something you only caught yourself feeling worse. The smile you gave her was probably one the most fake you could pull off but you couldn't find it in you to be anywhere near cheerful. After today was over, and you were sure it was going to be over a lot lot sooner than originally imagined, you were going to swear off dating altogether and maybe tell Nat about how horrible it was so that it would stir some guilt in her that would in the end stop her from trying to set you up with anybody for a long time.

Well, there was one good that could come out of this after all. Or maybe two. Because you could swear that as long as you were alive you were not going to forget the stunningly handsome man you'd locked eyes with the moment you'd walked into this place. He was unlike any other man you'd ever met before and it all made you weak on the knees. Oh how you wished he would have been your date. He had seemed to have just taken a seat in the far corner of the restaurant, seeing how he didn't have anything in front of him. You had both paused mid-movement for a moment, him seeming a little bit too awe-struck when his eyes fell on you, but thanks to your shy nature you found it impossible to keep looking at him when your face started burning up and rushed away to get to a table.

You couldn't see him anymore from where you were sitting, didn't even know if he could or had the mind to because he was busy with someone else. Of course a man like him wouldn't be stood up. The thought of the intriguing and attractive man had thankfully kept you occupied a couple more minutes, allowed the time to pass and you to not focus on the apologetic looks people had started giving you, like they knew how it felt. You didn't need it. Not when it made you feel even worse about the whole thing. And not when it was bound to make walking out on your ten times more miserable.

But you had made up your mind and it was ony a matter of execution at this point. You took in a shaky breath and after a couple seconds, and a small countdown in your mind, you placed your hand on your bag to take hold of it and-

“Hey baby.” it was a deep voice, quiet masculine and rough in a way that didn't go unnoticed you were sure, yet it was laced with a lightness and softness that made you blink twice in surprise. You were frozen in your place as it was by the fact that someone was actually sitting on the seat in front of you not to mention when you realized who it actually was. Looking up to meet those striking green eyes again you felt all air get knocked out of your lungs. There was a kind of sparkled, paired with a gorgeous smile that left you gaping.

“I'm so sorry I'm late, traffic was crazy but-” he let out such an effortless chuckle, picking up the menu “Can you believe I was here for thirty minutes now but waiting for you in another table?” he scoffed and then laughed again, and sweet dear you couldn't get enough of that laugh “Sounds so crazy, doesn't it? Can't believe I stood you up like this even without knowing.”

“It's-” you felt a lump in your throat, suddenly having forgotten how to speak “It's alright... really.”

It took you a good few seconds to understand what was actually happening. You wondered for a split second if the man was crazy or something but the look he gave you verified that he meant it... as much as he could at least. You didn't understand what he was trying to do but then you realized that he had probably been able to see you waiting all by your own and had... come to your aid? You couldn't really understand why but after a couple seconds of just looking at him you understood it was very simple: because he wanted to. Maybe real gentlemen still did exist after all. It wasn't out of pity and when he spoke next you were sure of it.

He scoffed, this time more serious when he looked you carefully in the eyes, as if to show you without saying it loud how honest and heartfelt his next words were “No. No it's not. It's an actual crime to stand up a woman like you. Hell, I'd feel like the world's biggest fucking idiot if I ever did that.” a hint towards the one who really stood you up “What a dick move you'd think huh? I know I did!”

The tone in his voice during the next words inevitably earned a giggle from you because he was definitely talking about the guy that stood you up and he was totally shameless about it. Looking up you realized that his smile had gotten even wider, if possible, and his eyes were somewhat wider than before. He seemed to be marveling at you and you bit your lower lip, looking away with a face that started to heat up more.

“I-” you shrugged tentatively, looking down at your hands “I suppose I'd just have waited some more and then... simply left. It's not like I don't have the best homemade pizza waiting for me at home to drown my sorrows in. That and a marathon on Shocker wouldn't be bad.” you were pleased that more words seemed to form this time but the fact that your voice was still so low, not sure and you wouldn't dare meet his eyes didn't make things better.

He scoffed, but still had an easy smile on his lips as he leaned back in his seat, despite your awkwardness he didn't seem to want to stop or back away for a second. If anything there was something about him that seemed to feel even more comfortable with you now, not that you had said anything too special as far as you could think.

“It's sweet that you're trying to forgive me, sweetheart, but I deserve hell for it. Even if this happened by accident. I won't even be surprised if you tell me 'Dean, give my greetings to the couch tonight.' and then dump my stupid ass right here and now.” so his name was Dean. You liked it, it suited him, he certainly looked like a Dean.

“Oh please.” you caught yourself grinned, relaxing slowly but surely “I'm not that heartless or petty. That old thing needs to be thrown away. I wouldn't force you to sleep on it, Dean!” for some reason this absurd game was starting not only to make you relax more but also enjoy this.

His smile returned, bright and full but only for a couple seconds before he narrowed his eyes at you “So no torture this time huh? Why does this sound even more scary than sleeping on that old thing?”

“Oh by all means.” you caught yourself grinning widely although it held more mischief than you planned “Who said there will be no torturing just because I will let you sleep in bed with me? You might seem to forget how creative I can get with my methods in bed, Dean.”

No, the game was no fun anymore. Especially if you couldn't keep your stupid mouth under control.

The seconds the words had eft your lips you'd started to regret them but there was no taking them back. You had for a split second hoped he didn't hear you, but judging by the way his eyebrows raised, he certainly caught every word “Well-” he licked his lips in a rather sinful way – not that those full lips weren't already to sin for – before saying “Call me a masochist but I can't wait to see what you come up with, sweetheart.”

Yeah, you could probably, no, definitely get used to him calling you that.

Your lips were parted although you knew there were no words that could possibly come out of your lips. This time you couldn't be more grateful about the waitress standing so close and coming over to your table “Hello again. Would you like to make an order now?”

“Uh yes, yes of course.” you nearly rushed to hide your face behind the menu as Dean nodded his head and just ordered what he wanted, not that you really heard thanks to the buzzing in your head. You realized there was a short moment of silence and took it as the opportunity to give your order.

“Oh wow.” she laughed softly and you didn't really understand why “Haven't seen such matching orders from a couple in a long time.” which made you still frown because you were picky with your food. Glancing at Dean you realized he was looking at you with a kind of smile you hadn't seen before. If you didn't know better you'd say it looked like he was amazed and taken by you, but again all you had done was order, wasn't it?

“Well, what can I say?” he said with a small shrug, not taking his eyes off you “Feels like we must be soulmates after all.” a small pause that you could feel and count every single heartbeat in you because of how strong it was, before Dean finally tore his eyes from you and looked at her “Would you mind to put two more slices of that pie for the go? Gotta make up to my best girl for making her wait for an idiot like me for so long.”

“You got it!” she said with a smile “Oh and I almost forgot-” before you could realize it she was placing a small plate with brownies between the two of you “It's on the house. Every Saturday night we have a special treat for couples. You are certainly the cutest one here. Enjoy! And I will be back with your orders soon.” she said with a far too sweet before taking your menus and leaving you alone.

“Hey uh” he started a bit more nervously than you had seen him before. In fact you realized you had not seen him nervous before. Instead he added in a low voice, somewhat concerned “I hope... I didn't make you uncomfortable or something?”

Your lips parted once more and once more no words came out for a couple seconds. In the end you shook your head and smiled at him “Sweettalking me out of your torture, aren't you honey? You know you'll have to try harder than that. If you'd ever have a chance of escaping it, that is.”

Playing along didn't seem like it was playing anymore. Serious or not, though, it was your kind of normal.

It took him only half a second before the stunning smile was back on his lips and he raised his hands in surrender “Wouldn't dream of it, you know it! Besides, you see, I'd love nothing more than to really make up to you for keeping you waiting? And I promise this also involves whipped cream!”

“Ah and there I thought we'd go for some melted chocolate tonight.” you teased a bit, surprising the both of you but yourself even more because of how easily the words were coming out of your lips and how easily you fought off the blush this time too.

He chuckled and yes you could get used to that sound too “Well, we could surely find a way to use that too later, I'm not one to say no trust me-” you both laughed at it “But before that I was thinking...” he got a bit more serious now and you realized that he meant his words were 100% real “If, after we eat, we get that pie maybe get something to drink and... try out that marathon together? I'd take old, painful couch with a company like yours any day.”

You didn't want to let yourself think he was asking you out. You didn't want to let your hopes get up, he seemed to barely know you even if – apparently – you were a lot more alike than you thought and certainly clicked. It wouldn't hurt to enjoy his company a bit more, right?

“Tell you what, when this dinner is over, and you let me steal a couple of french fries without a single complain this time...” you smiled easily “I'll let you know.” he looked at you fondly and you instantly got butterflies in your stomach “But only under the condition that I pick the drink!”

“Anything my lady wants.” he nodded his head “I'd be a fool to say no to anything you ask... let alone see that sad look on your face again.”

“Trust me you're the reason I'm only able to smile tonight.” your words could have not been more sincere and Dean realized it too, giving you a soft nod.

“Hey uh-” he glanced a bit around before leaning closer to you, his elbows resting on the table “Now that the waitress isn't, like, right over our heads, I didn't- Not that I wouldn't love to call you pet names all night, because trust me you inspire me, but... I didn't get a name?”

“(Y/n)” you whispered back, giving a small nod that he returned. And before you could stop it, the words poured out of your lips inevitably bringing back the deep blush on your cheeks “And I didn't get to call you enough pet names, sadly.”

“Well, I'm all yours, (Y/n). Hit me with your best shot. I certainly love a cute pet name.” he winked, before easing back in his chair and you smiled to yourself.

“I just had to ask you, you know?” he got your attention again and you frowned a bit. He took hold of a brownie, inspecting it for half a second before taking a small bite so that he ate only half. Right afterwards his eyes jumped to meet yours through his lashes and if the sight before you wasn't sinful enough – because fuck if his hands weren't as distracting as his lips and everything else of his – there he kept speaking and proved to you that was a total sweetheart that wanted to get you out of trouble as well as incredibly – if not illegally – good at flirting.

“Your name.” he clarified, licking his lips “Just to know who I'll be begging later.” and before you realized it he was placing the other half in your own mouth and licking off some of the chocolate on his thumb.

[aiorevelations]

A Number, Not a Name: Part 15!!

Present-day:

Beads of sweat trickled down Jason’s forehead as he frantically worked to decrypt the file. He had been working on it for nearly an hour and so far he’d had no luck. Every time he’d get close to cracking the code, there'd be some phrase of letters left that didn’t make any sense. He knew he was running out of time and had to hurry. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand and kept going. Another minute passed, then five minutes, fifteen minutes. Jason intensely scrutinized and analyzed every letter, trying to come up with another possible code pattern that would decrypt the file. 

Okay…looks like it’s a Caesar Cipher. Shifted down by twelve….please dear God let this work.

Jason quickly typed another command on the laptop and anxiously waited. His heart began to race as all the incoherent phrases began to transform into actual words and sentences. 

There in front of him was Dalmar’s plan, outlined step by step. His plan for running for higher offices. Building his network and support bases. Acquiring more weapons. And ultimately seizing power. Even more importantly, the location of the weapons was laid out in the document. 

Jason felt an overwhelming sense of relief that he’d deciphered the pattern yet kicked himself that hadn’t cracked such a simple code sooner. He figured his nerves had got the best of him but he couldn’t help but be angry at himself. He’d lost a great deal of time, time he couldn’t afford to lose. Jason suspected Dalmar or one of his men had encrypted the file manually as it was amateur work. A skilled professional or person with a knowledge of computers would have used encryption software such as AES which would have converted the plaintext contained in the file into ciphertext. Rendering it impossible for Jason to decrypt the file without entering in a specific password. He picked up his pen, pressed the top metal bottom on the side, and snapped several pictures of the file. 

From the looks of this the weapons should be located…in a bunker a few miles north of here. He quickly encrypted the file again, excited the file, and closed the laptop. He picked it up and inserted it back into the drawer just as he'd found it. He placed the pen back in his pocket. Jason closed the office door and headed back down the tunnel shaft. Now that he had the intel they needed all they had to do was make it through the rest of the gala. He already had been gone a great deal of time and knew that the longer he was gone the greater chance he’d be caught or that Dalmar would be suspicious of him and Tasha. He hoped he wasn’t too late.

…..

The black limousine made its way down the winding road that encircled Dalmar’s estate. As they drove Dalmar pointed out to Tasha the various structures and amenities that graced his home. The guest house, its exterior resembling that of the main house with an assortment of glass, wood, and chrome. The tennis courts and lavish swimming pool. And the rose garden, all the flowers coming together in a rainbow of color and releasing a sweet scent into the air.

Inside the confines of the limo, Dalmar placed his arm around Tasha and pointed in the direction of the greenhouse. “And over there is the greenhouse.”

“My goodness, I’ve never seen such a large one before.”

“My mother, loved plants, especially flowers. I suppose I inherited that love from her.”

“I never would have guessed that you would have such a fondness for flowers.” Tasha teased. 

“Their strength yet delicateness is something to behold. And of course their beauty.”

Tasha forced a smile. “I’ve never met someone who has spoken to me… or makes me feel the way you do.”

“Beauty is meant to be appreciated and treasured. You, my dear, are a shining jewel.”

Tasha stood there frozen, speechless, unsure of what to say.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or-“

“No, no. It’s just I’m used to guarding...my feelings. Taking things slower…but being here with you…it feels different.”

“I’m glad.” Dalmar smiled and took Tasha’s hand. “This has been one of the happiest nights of my life.” The car suddenly came to a stop, causing him to release Tasha’s hand, for which she was relieved. 

“We’re here.” The chauffeur announced.

Tasha peered out the tinted windows of the car yet didn’t see any structure or buildings in the distance. She turned back to Dalmar. “Here?” she asked, a quizzical expression on her face. 

“You’ll see.” He grinned. Tasha and Dalmar exited the limo and walked to the front of the car. 

“Right this way.” Dalmar motioned in front of him. The two of them began making their way forward through the woods. Tasha found it somewhat difficult to walk as her heels kept getting bogged down in the ground. She did her best to conceal it from Dalmar. The last thing she needed was for him to offer her his hand, holding it once had been more than enough for her. 

Soon they arrived at what appeared to be an electrical substation. They reached a metal fence, all over which were signs posted that read “Danger. High voltage.” Dalmar entered a passcode into a security keypad and a metal gate rolled to the side.

 “After you.” 

“Thank you,” she smiled.

They went through the entrance, the gate closing behind them. After walking to the control house, Dalmar typed in another code on the keypad located on the door handle. “I believe inside you’ll find something that you’ve had your eyes on.” Tasha felt her heart begin to race as the door unlocked and Dalmar turned the handle. 

Tasha stepped inside the room, followed by Dalmar. The lights flashed on showing a stairwell a few feet in front of them. At the end of the stairs, there was a hallway, with a metal door located at its end. Dalmar punched in another password on the keypad. Tasha heard a metallic click and the door slowly slid to the side. 

Tasha let out a small gasp as they entered the concrete bunker. From the floor to the rafters, the room was filled with an assortment of weapons. Machine guns, automatic rifles, ammunition, surface-to-air missiles, and even a few tanks. “Wow,” she said softly in awe. “This is incredible.” 

“Even better than you imagined?”

“Yes.” She slowly spun around to get a complete view of the room. “Other girls like flowers or chocolate. A trip to Tahiti,” she laughed, “but me…this is my life, right here. My happy place.”

“I can see that.”

“From the moment I met you I could immediately tell you were a man with great ambition. And in my line of work I’ve met many people with the same fire in their eyes…but somehow, it’s hard to explain, I knew you were different.”

“Different, how so?”

“Others may have had the same ambition as you but I felt in my soul that you were destined to become something. To do great things. To leave your mark on humanity. Many aspire to such things but few accomplish them. I believe, with my whole heart, that you are among the few.”

“I’m glad to hear you believe so. I for my part have always held that I would be among the great men of history. These past years I’ve dedicated all my time and resources to this goal and now I’m on the eve of achieving it.”

“The eve? You’ve said many times now that you’re on the eve of your dream becoming reality. That your goal is about to happen soon.”

“Yes. I have.”

“The question is when exactly is ‘soon?’ It’s such a relative term. For some it’s a few years, others a couple of months, or perhaps even a few minutes. When is it for you?” Tasha pressed him for more details. “If you decided to tell me…” she took a breath, “not only about when you intend to enforce your plan but its entirety, it would mean the world to me. To know that out of all the billions of people in this world I was enough…for you to completely confide in.”

“You can be very persistent. When you want to be.”

“I try my best.”

“I’m sure by now you’ve heard of my political party the KLF and my run for parliament.”

“Yes. I am aware.”

“Initially when I announced my run to be a member of parliament I did plan to win power by legitimate means. Start at the bottom and work my way up so to speak.”

“I assume eventually becoming prime minister.”

“Exactly, but as time has passed I realize that I can’t wait. I have to act now. This country is at the brink of collapse, of being internally ripped apart until it fails to exist. It is hard to believe now but centuries ago this country used to be one of the shining jewels of the world. Trade and the economy flourished. Money poured into the nation. The military was one of the most formidable forces on earth. Most importantly power was centralized in the hands of the Sargis family. But over time the country was stripped of its former glory at the hands of upcoming nations, as they attacked Krudia again and again. The Sargis dynasty crumbled and the economy is nowhere near as prosperous as it once had been. Recently, due to famine and political instability, the country has fallen into economic ruin.  Looking at a map today, compared to other countries, Krudia is merely a speck of land. But hundreds of years ago it was nearly ten times the size it is today. My goal is to restore Krudia to its former glory and in the process be immortalized in history. The only way for that to happen is by force as many unfortunately are against radical change.”

Tasha crossed her arms. “I can’t imagine why. Unless they enjoy starving to death.”

“In my eyes, they’re merely a nuisance.” He scoffed. “One that won’t exist for much longer. Next week, once your weapons have arrived, I plan to establish myself as the new president of Krudia.”

“I knew you were ambitious…but this. I never dreamed I’d do business with a future president.”

“Thanks to your weapons. All my goals for this nation will become reality. The nations surrounding our borders will be forced to comply with my wishes. To surrender the land that originally was part of Krudia. Nations will be forced to their knees and to fulfill my demands. Otherwise, they’ll be obliterated. With me as its leader, Krudia, not only will be restored to the height of its power but become the greatest nation on earth. Imagine me as its leader and…you be my side.”

Tasha found herself taken aback by his words. The way Dalmar mentioned threatening nuclear destruction without even a second thought sent chills up and down her spine. In some ways when dancing and dining the evening away it was easy to forget who the man was who stood in front of her. A deranged and disgusting psychopath. She swallowed, trying to find the words. “I-I can’t imagine it.”

“The thought, it’s a lot to take in isn’t it?”

“It certainly is…but as I said before you are destined for remarkable things.”

“Now is there anything else…you want? Anything at all you can think of, just name it.”

I really have this guy wrapped around my finger. At least I was able to use it to my advantage. “Just one thing. Another dance…with you.”

“There’s no music.” He stretched his arms out. 

She shook her head. “Not here. Back at the main house.”

“As you wish, mi corazón.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Which part? Mi corazón or as you wish?”

“Both. But especially as you wish.”

Dalmar and Tasha each laughed as they headed back towards the stairwell. As she climbed into the car, Tasha felt a sense of relief wash over. She’d gotten the information they needed. All she had to do was keep up her cover, despite how difficult it was increasingly becoming. She hoped Jason would be back at the house by the time she and Dalmar returned. That is if he had not run into any trouble. Tasha quickly silenced those thoughts for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. She knew thinking about Jason being caught, without knowing if that was actually true, would do neither of them any good. As they settled back in the car Dalmar once again wrapped his arm around Tasha. Tasha inwardly rolled her eyes, her annoyance with Dalmar’s enchantment with her growing every second. It’s good. You can do this. She told herself. Just so long as he doesn’t propose.

…..

Jason quietly made his way through the tunnel into the lab report room. In front, he could see the door that led to the hall, off of which was the stairwell. That stairwell led to the first corridor, beyond which lay the door to the outside. The last thing he needed was to get caught especially after all he’d done to get this far. 

As Jason began to exit the room a piercing shriek filled the room, followed by a succession of agonizing screams. It had come from the door on the left side of the aisle, the room he had seen the two security guards enter earlier. Jason then heard words come from a man, who sounded as though he was in excruciating pain. “Please stop. I won’t speak out against Dalmar again. I swear.” 

“I’m afraid once is one time too many” came another man’s voice, that sounded like Tarek. 

He could only imagine the horrifying scenes unfolding in that room. Jason knew that in becoming an agent he would see and hear horrific and tragic things, see the worst sides of people. Every day in training new agents were debriefed on this issue and how to respond. How not to let it affect them or their actions, but to continue to carry on with their mission. Their instructors would ask them what was more important. Saving one person at the expense of the entire operation or choosing to save more lives by keeping their cover intact? For Jason that was a question he didn’t want to answer. Losing one life was one too many. However, in this world, you had to put aside your own beliefs and values for the sake of national security. At least that was what he’d been told by his superiors. He couldn’t do what Jason Allen Whittaker would do. He had to do what 1131 would do. Jason knew that right now he had to push his thoughts aside and press on. No matter what, Dalmar could not carry out his plan. He had to succeed on this mission, failure wasn’t an option. Even still it took every ounce of his willpower to not intervene. 

Jason suddenly froze, in the doorway, as he heard the sound of a gunshot. He then saw the door across from him begin to open. Frantically he ducked back into the lab report room, praying he hadn’t been spotted. He pressed as close as he could against a wall and stood as still as possible. From across the hall, he saw Tarek and three other men, two of them the same guards he had followed, exit through the door. Two of the men helped to drag a man's bloody and mutilated body out of the room. As they dragged him through the hall on the ground his blood smeared all across on the concrete floor. A brutal testament to the pain and unspeakable suffering he had endured. 

His Grandpa Harold would tell him that there are moments in a person’s life that would come back to haunt them. Fill them with what-ifs and doubts. Make them wonder if they should have done more or made a different choice. As he exited the warehouse Jason knew this was such a time. He was no longer a little boy with an innocent view of the world. This moment had reminded him once again how cruel and heartless people could be. How much evil there was in the world. All Jason knew was he had to bring Dalmar to justice. No matter what it took.

[plus-size-reader]

Biggest Fan

Peter Parker x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1865 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Peter trying to figure out how to get the girl he likes to go out with him, when he catches a glimpse of her Spiderman shirt

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Peter had been in love with you since you met but that didn’t make it any easier to talk to you. The two of you were strangers, more or less, only seeing each other when you had class together twice a day.

Still, he was sure that you were the most perfect girl to ever exist in the history of everything.

You were just incredible.

You had this laugh that could light up the whole room, and an energy unlike anything he’d ever experienced. You were everything he’d ever wanted…

There was only one problem.

Peter couldn’t even talk to you.

Whenever he tried, it was almost as if his mouth physically couldn’t form the words. You just made him too nervous, too nervous to function and nothing he tried made it any better.

He had even asked Mr.Stark for advice but nothing had come of that.

“Just be yourself kid, she’ll melt” he shrugged over his coffee, as if somehow that would be enough. Peter shouldn’t have been surprised, after all, Tony was Tony.

He had never had this problem.

Any girl that he wanted fell at his feet, begging for a shred of his attention. Clearly, he wouldn’t have any good advice regarding this particular topic.

It seemed like Peter was on his own for this one.

It wasn’t until the field trip that he realized he actually had more leverage over the situation than he originally assumed.

There you were, sitting in the midst of the large group of students, a huge smile on your face. You were all giggles as the kids around you shared stories and had a good time.

However, Peter could only focus on one thing…

You had a familiar print of your t-shirt. The article itself was a simple white crop top that fell perfectly over your black leggings which were pulled up to your hips.

What he cared about was the spider printed there. He had seen that logo before, probably because it was the same one that decorated his spidey-suit.

You were wearing Spider-man merch right now?

How did he not know you were a spider-man fan before now? That was crazy. All this time he’d been trying to figure out how to get you to notice him, while you were parading around with his brand on your chest.

Not that you knew it was him.

Perhaps if you did, you would have felt differently but Peter hoped not.

This was his one shot with the girl he liked, so he knew that it had to be perfect.

“Nice shirt” he smiled, cautiously gesturing to you as he made his way over to the group. He wanted to start a conversation with you, but it was so much easier if he could just listen to you speak.

After all, then he got to hear your beautiful voice and didn’t have to worry about making a fool of himself.

You smiled, looking down at it, almost as if you forgot what you had put on this morning. Your smile only grew when your eyes fell on the symbol, it was pretty cool that he knew what it was.

“Thanks, I love Spider-man...he’s totally the coolest” you gushed, clutching your heart dramatically, earning a laugh from the surrounding goons, not that Peter cared.

You loved Spider-man? That was awesome!

That meant he actually had a solid shot with you if he played his cards right.

The plan was simple.

All he had to do was wait for the perfect moment, when the city was all lit up in the moonlight. He could pick you up, all dressed in his suit, and take you to the tallest building he could find.

It would be perfect, and when the moment was right, he could tell you the truth. He could just come out and say it, he could say those three little words…

I am Spider-man.

When he broke it down like that, it was almost simple. Now if only he could get his nerves under control.

~

Tonight was perfect, this was the night that he would do it.

Without waiting another second, Peter climbed out of his hotel window, shimmying over to where you were staying. He was fully dressed as Spider-man from head to toe, so there was no way you would know that it was him.

“You can do this” he whispered to himself, knocking on the window without another thought.

It was now or never.

It only took a few seconds for you to make your way over to the window. You thought maybe a bird had flown a little too close to the building or something, but that wasn’t the case.

Never could you had been prepared for what you found standing there…

It definitely wasn’t a bird.

Spider-man was standing there, gripping onto the ledge as you stared at him in shock. It wasn’t until he knocked again that you got the message to actually let him in.

“What are you doing here?” you wondered, your voice shaking lightly as you watched the man climb in through the window. You had no idea if this was even real.

You had been the biggest Spider-man fan since he first made an appearance and now he was standing in front of you...it was too good to be true.

“I heard you’re a fan” he shrugged, Peter was trying to put on his coolest, most suave persona. The suit made it easier, mostly because you already thought Spider-man was awesome.

He had this false confidence as spider-man that made the whole interaction so much simpler. Peter didn’t have to worry about how you felt about him right now, he could just talk to you.

All you could do was nod as he spoke to you, feeling your chest tightening up with nerves.

You never thought you’d be standing in front of Spider-man, and now that it was happening, you were basically frozen in your place.

“I’m sorry, this is so lame, I just don’t know what to do right now” You apologized, pretty sure that spider-man now thought you were a huge dork.

Little did you know, Peter’s heart was hammering in his chest at the very sight of you. You had never had your attention focused fully on him and it felt like heaven.

“Would you like to go on an adventure?” He wondered, once again playing up his confidence as he offered a hand to you. The whole thing would have been so cringy if it wasn’t for you.

You were on cloud nine right now.

This was,without a doubt, the best day of your entire life.

You weren’t sure at first. On one hand, you would never forgive yourself if you didn’t go with him, but you were also scared. There was no telling what was going to happen.

However, as soon as the hand was offered, you knew better than to refuse.

And before you knew it, you were soaring above the ground, holding tightly to spider man's torso. Every few minutes, a squeal would leave your lips as you looked down at everything below you but you weren’t scared...you just couldn’t believe this was happening.

More than anything, you wondered if this whole thing was a dream? Could you be hallucinating something so vivid and real? You hoped not.

Every moment was better than the last, and you felt like you were on top of the world.

It wouldn’t have been an exaggeration to say that nothing this incredible would ever happen again...

Or so you thought.

The grand finale to this evening, that you had yet to become aware of, was the fact that Peter was planning on revealing his true identity to you.

It would be the first time he let anyone into his world in that way but someone had to know eventually, it might as well have been you.

“You ready for this?” he asked, finding the perfect place to do it. You couldn’t hear him over the wind rushing past your ears but that wasn’t important.

More important was the fact that he’d chosen one of the most exquisite buildings to perch upon, which meant you could see everything.

Every single building and streetlight for miles were lit up and speckled the darkness like fireflies.

You were in shock.

“What are you doing?” you wondered, after a few seconds of trying to catch your breathe.

Nothing this exciting had ever happened to you.

Peter nearly choked on his words at first, just trying to corral the nerves that were coursing through him. This was it.

This was the moment that he’d been waiting for, all this time.

Not only was he going to reveal himself to someone for the first time, but he was revealing his true identity to his crush. There was no way this could end well.

However, Peter swallowed his anxiety and cleared his throat.

“Y/N, I have something to tell you” he started, hoping that you would just let him get through this.

Sure, you had a million questions, starting with the fact that apparently Spider-man knew your name. Though, you could tell that he wasn’t done...so you let it go.

No matter how nervous you were, you didn’t want make it obvious. How lame would that be? Having Spider-man know how afraid you were of whatever it was he had to tell you.

In all honesty, no matter what it was, you’d probably consider it close to law. This was Spider-man, and you weren’t an idiot.

“What is it?” you wondered quietly, taking a step closer to the masked man, taking not of the fact that he was shorter than you had pictured.

It was interesting.

This was it, Peter knew that he only had one shot at this whole thing.

“I’m spider-man” he let out, as if letting out a breathe he’d been holding, though you didn’t gasp or get angry like he’d been expecting.

Instead, you just sat there looking at him, with this confused look on your face.

Of course he was spider-man?

It took a few seconds for Peter to realize that he’d forgotten to take the stupid mask off, and now he looked like even more of an idiot...

Perfect.

By this point, he was so nervous that he could hardly focus. He fumbled with the zipper on the back of the mask, his fingers clumsy in his rush.

“Let me” you suggested, leaning forward a bit more to undo the zipper yourself, the fabric smooth beneath your fingers.

It was around this moment that you realized what was really happening. You were about to figure out who spider-man really was.

As soon as the mask fell to the concrete of the rooftop, that gasp he’d been waiting on fell into the air.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

It was Peter Parker, the same kid who you’d sat in front of in English.

How was this possible?

For a moment, you thought that this was all a prank to see if you’d fall for it. However, you could tell from the look in his eyes that wasn’t the case.

Peter was Spider-man.

“Wow.”

[moviesrotbrains]

DANIEL ISN’T REAL... but I’m so very glad this film exists.

After dealing with increasing anxiety and fearing a grip on reality, a college freshman turns to his childhood imaginary friend for comfort and confidence boosting… only to realize that his much cooler and carefree pretend buddy has an unsettling violent darkness about him. Could Daniel possibly be something more than a figment of his imagination?

DANIEL ISN’T REAL is an utterly surreal fever dream, channeling the best in cosmic horror, body horror, and psychological horror while also taking a bold look at deeper issues. It comes from Elijah Wood’s SpectreVision imprint, the same company that gave us such gems as MANDY, A GIRL WALKS HOME ALONE AT NIGHT, and COLOR OUT OF SPACE...  and this one’s right up there with those modern classics. And you can watch it now on SHUDDER!

Full review and some seriously kickass poster art below:

Directed by Adam Egypt Mortimer (and based on Brian DeLeeuw’s book, In This Way I Was Saved), DANIEL ISN’T REAL is a wonderfully fantastical ride through fucked up subject matter. It tackles mental illness, trauma, dual nature, identity, male toxicity, and empathy… with a good amount of Lovecraftian madness and trippy, yet terrifically disgusting Cronenberg-esque visuals thrown in for good measure.

It’s an engaging story too, about a young man, Luke, overwhelmed with life as his mother’s mental health condition worsens. He’s dealing with that on top of everything else college kids go through, lack of confidence, anxiety, etc. There’s also a fear of his own sanity. He keeps hallucinating and blanking out. His therapist suggests that maybe he should try to tap into that creativity he had as a child, where he’d regularly play for hours on end with his imaginary friend, “Daniel”. Only things got very weird and unsettling the last time he played pretend with his fictional playmate.

Once Daniel re-enters his life, things start to change. Luke’s mother issues get better. Luke suddenly feels more confident in life. Luke is finally doing well with girls. Luke’s getting creative again with photography... and all of his problems seem to go away… Only Daniel seems to want more credit and recognition. And Daniel seems to be getting angrier. And that’s when things get really fucking messed up.

This film is wonderfully acted by a mix of up-and-comers and veterans of the scene. Luke is played by Miles Robbins (HALLOWEEN 2018) and gives that immediate likeable and kind, yet also meek, portrayal that perfectly conveys what kind of a person that Luke is. There’s a lot of range in emotion in this performance, from hurt and confused to confident, to something else entirely. I always get a kick at seeing an actor completely flip their performance and style midway and totally embody something else, and this film has that and more.

Contrasting that likability and meekness is Daniel (played by Patrick Schwarzenegger, SCREAM QUEENS), the titular imaginary friend who’s pure Freudian Id. He’s cool, slick, charismatic, and always knows the right thing that Luke should say, or do, to get ahead. He’s helpful… when he wants to be… but he also has a lot of darkness. A scary darkness that seems to stem from… something else. Patrick excels when he taps into this dark alias. He’s evil as fuck. There’s a sinister glee in his manner. Epitome of “Chaotic Evil”. He’s such a great asshole. He really kicks it into gear when the audience fully know what we’re dealing with… 

Yet even then, nothing is over explained. And that’s the beauty of this film. There is no expository dialogue or wasted scene. Everything is laid out there and the actors just bring it. This film lives in a world of it’s own and the audience is a passenger for the unholy ride. It’s a very slick flick full of world building and the kind of outstanding performances that really make everything shine.

Rounding out the supporting cast is Luke’s troubled mother (veteran Mary Stuart Masterson, who powerfully played a similar and memorable role in BENNY & JUNE), Sasha Lane (HELLBOY) as the love interest, artist, and really, the heart and soul of the film, and Hannah Marks (DIRK GENTLY) as the other girl faced with Luke’s dark side. again, all perfectly played and perfectly cast, giving a much needed balance in this heavy film.

And it’s a very heavy film. The story was a deeply personal one for Mortimer (as he explained to us in 2019, when he brought the film to the Montreal FANTASIA film fest). The director drew from his own experiences from his youth, when a friend was similarly dealing with mental health issues. Mortimer had to help him, because his friend was “falling off the rails”, with no one around really helping him out, “not friends or professionals”. He talked of his friend’s life being in ruins, and how it just “spiraled off into mania”. 

That experience deeply impacted Mortimer. It was from this that Mortimer wanted to make a film about empathy and compassion for people going through severe mental illness issues. While Luke’s troubles stem from something more, the parallels are still there to people in real life going through non-otherworldy issues. The overall sense of helplessness, and a desire to be understood and taken seriously, is still there, and still a universal theme. Especially right now.

This film also tackles a lot more than just matters of wellness. Mortimer also wanted the film to deal with the “increasing danger” young men are in these days. “The Dangers they face and the danger many are to themselves”. 

Mortimer talked about them, “Living in a world where men have been driven insane by society. A society where many men are both the product and the villain of it.” A lot of this is seen on film when Luke battles for control with Daniel. Daniel representing that alpha and that Id. Luke grasping for control and trying to be that voice of compassion and reason. It’s a wonderful character study that is only heightened by the horror elements that come into play.

And yes, it’s an absolute horror fan’s delight and it’s visually stunning to boot, mixing psychological & psychedelic horror together. It felt like I was watching HELLRAISER again for the first time, but if that film was shoved in a blender with FIGHT CLUB, JACOB’S LADDER, and copious amounts of mind altering drugs. But comparing it to anything else does no justice to the wholly original eye-gasmic feast set before us. I keep saying this, but it truly is an utterly wonderful surreal fever dream. It’s so very layered and out there. 

It’s refreshing to see new films like this come about with something to say and looking as great as it does. Yes, this film looks very different from most things that are currently out there, with it’s violet texture throughout, and otherworldly feel. Mortimer, who came from a music video background, wanted his second feature to have a distinct look to it, saying that the “violet hue throughout had a very futuristic and contemporary colour about it”. He wanted to create the feeling of a manic episode, and overwhelm the viewer with colours and density. 

And he totally does. It’s such a beautiful looking film, and one you’ll definitely go back to just to soak in the wonderful hypnotic visuals. Much like MANDY, from the year before, DANIEL is a cinematic treat for your eyeballs.

And there’s also some deeply messed up visuals that mix in with that beauty. The FX on a whole are amazingly bizarre. There are visuals that are so jaw-droppingly good that you’ll permanently have them etched in your brain. It’s the kind of film where you’re watching and you immediately want to rewind and see that scene again.

From faces being merged into each other in a pink tentacled mess of VIDEODROME-esque flesh, to other visages literally being mangled like putty! Pure body terror. People crawling into other people’s mouths– I could go on, but I don’t want to spoil it. It’s icky and wonderful all at once.

And I can’t go on about the FX without mentioning the nightmarish and hellish creature design by Martin Astles (who also worked on the brutal and classic nightmare fuel that is EVENT HORIZON). The creature FX are so fucking out there, each very distinct and very memorable. The kind of things that if you confronted them in real life you’d be quick to claw them out your own eyes. 

One beast looks like a hellish death beast with a fleshy castle for a head-- an absolute architectural artifice. Mortimer said they attempted to convey that a whole universe was in its face, and it existed outside space and time. Another Face looking like piercing bullets poking through the flesh and protruding from his cheeks, like a moment frozen in time. They’re all so freakishly creative and disturbing. I can’t even describe them right. I’m not sure I want to, but they’re seared into my mind. Body Horror and Cosmic Horror at their best.

In addition to the visuals, this film also brings it on the sound design and score front. It’s got an incredible score by Warp Records act Clark. It contains synthy goodness along with manipulations of actual orchestral pieces. And it was Clark’s first time working on a film score, something Mortimer preferred. 

He wanted someone that wasn’t used to working on horror films, or films in general, so they’d throw everything they had into it from the get go. Mortimer told Clark to make it sound like Bernard Herrmann got stuck in some horrible industrial accident. A relentless sonic assault that tries to capture that same feel that Clint Mansell did with REQUIEM FOR A DREAM. The results are a superb original work of music that completely enhances and already spectacular looking film.

I was a fan of Mortimer’s SOME KIND OF HATE when I caught it six years ago at FANTASIA FEST, but DANIEL is an entirely different beast and next level filmmaking. He’s easily grown as a filmmaker and I’m totally on board to see more. I can’t wait to see what he tackles next, because DANIEL was easily one of my top Fantasia picks for 2019.

DANIEL ISN’T REAL is one of those dark films that will most likely be seen as a cult classic in a few years, right up there with DONNIE DARKO and movies of a similar ilk. It’s full of so much imagination and gusto, all while tackling important issues and core themes. All that and it remains highly watchable and engaging. It’ll satisfy any horror junkie while also winning over fans of thought provoking art. Daniel isn’t real, but I’m glad it exists.

-Theo Radomski, Movies Rot Brains 

Seriously how fucking awesome are these posters?  Why can’t more horror films hire the people that made these posters? Why can’t film in general hire these people to make better promo art? 

This article was previously seen on Mobtreal.com

[yumeka36]

Well, I know I said a while back when more Frozen 2 leaks came out that I was gonna avoid making anymore posts expressing my thoughts until I actually see the movie myself...but alas, what I’d consider the jackpot of leaks came out yesterday causing me to develop more thoughts I feel are better expressed now than later. As usual, skip this post if you don’t want to be supremely spoiled...

After the initial leaks from the not-yet-released mythology book a few weeks ago, which confirmed the movie will end with Anna as queen of Arendelle and Elsa as the Snow Queen/fifth spirit, the real question we’ve had since then is: will they continue to live together or separately? Many official sources such as storybooks and interviews with the creators hinted at separation, and after nearly two weeks of letting the realization that this movie won’t end in the way I would have liked practically eat me alive, I decided it was best to just remain positive, as the events of the story’s third act are still mostly a mystery.

Before I continue, I just want to point out that I understand both sides of the fandom right now: the side that feels hurt and betrayed by this kind of ending, and the side that’s more accepting and doesn’t want to jump to conclusions without seeing it firsthand. It’s been tough for me being in the middle - at times I totally get the backlash. We fell in love with the story of the first movie and shorts about two sisters reconnecting and now the sequel ends with them finding happiness elsewhere. But at the same time, I know that living separately doesn’t diminish familial bonds and it’s a normal thing that happens. I know it’s easy to dismiss it as a trend since a lot of other recent family movie sequels had similar endings, but I want to judge it in its own right. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still not happy we’re getting a separation ending, but I also know I’ll love 95% of this movie, so I can’t bring myself to throw in the towel at the last 5% without seeing every detail for myself, every word of dialogue, every scene, every nuance in character expressions and actions. I’d feel much more okay with this ending if this was Frozen 3 we’re talking about and we had another Frozen 2 that focused on Anna and Elsa reconnecting as sisters. To go from the end of the first Frozen with them finally getting to know each other after 13 years apart, straight to a sequel that ends with them separating is a leap that really needed more padding. The shorts fill the gap somewhat, but not enough in my opinion. We should have had a Frozen 2 story about Elsa trying to get over her guilt about shutting Anna out all those years, and once that’s resolved, it ends with a return to the status quo that sets the stage for the story we actually have in Frozen 2 (which should be Frozen 3!) I really feel we needed one more “smaller” story like this to pad things out after the first Frozen before the major changes that happens in Frozen 2 (can we get a Frozen 1.5 anyone?) But as I’ll describe further in this post, I’m not convinced that the last 5% of Frozen 2 will be so bad that it will override everything else about the movie, or Frozen in general.

I should also mention that I’ve always been neutral to Kristoff and his relationship with Anna. I find Anna and Elsa’s relationship way more appealing and interesting, but I’ve also always believed Anna has plenty of room in her big heart for sisterly love for Elsa and romantic love for Kristoff. Since they skipped any talk of marriage in the first Frozen, it was no surprise at all that it would be brought up in the sequel. Since they intend Frozen 2 to be the last installment (for now) they couldn’t leave a loose end like Kristoff and Anna’s engagement. I could take it or leave it, but as long as Anna and Elsa’s relationship is portrayed as the strongest bond (which it seems to be) I don’t mind giving Anna romantic love too (and maybe Elsa one day?)

But anyway, yes, a month before its official release, several page scans from the The Art of Frozen 2 have leaked, which pretty much confirm the ending alluded to in the mythology book and many others. And honestly, after taking some time to let all the information sink in, I’m not as upset as I thought I would be. At first I thought I was just numb by now, having already been sick about it for nearly two weeks after the mythology book leaked. But more likely, I think I’ve just made myself form a different perspective. In all the fandoms I partake in, I always try to make myself open to different interpretations of the characters and story even if they don’t fully agree with my own. I understand that there’s a risk involved with falling too deeply in love with someone else’s creation - that they may not interpret the characters and story the same way you do and it becomes difficult to distinguish your own headcanon perspective vs actual canon. What I think has happened with the Frozen fandom is an unfortunate case where lack of canon material has caused me (and no doubt others) to indulge so much in my own headcanons that I started to see it as “fact” when it really is just my interpretation and “filling in the blanks” so to speak.

To illustrate, Anna and Elsa spend very little time together in the first movie, which is what makes their rekindled love for each other at the end so impacting. But if you think about it, the ice skating together in the original Frozen’s epilogue plus a few more scenes in the two short films, only equates to about a half hour’s worth of content showing them interacting as sisters. When you have such an appealing character relationship but such a small amount of canon content with which to interpret it over a span of six years, it’s only natural that my own headcanons took over until I started seeing them as the only interpretation. Especially for Elsa, who has a lot less screentime in the first movie than Anna, so honestly we really don’t know her that well. Have I really seen enough of her in the first movie plus two shorts to say with certainty that she could never be happy without Anna always being by her side? Is the filmmakers’ view of her as a “protector” and “mythical character” who feels at home in the enchanted lands less valid than my own interpretation of her? Again, when I try to describe Elsa I realize that much of it is based on my own headcanons, which are perfectly valid, but I shouldn’t be surprised if it turns out the filmmakers have a different vision for her. Just because I personally love all the sisterly moments between Anna and Elsa and so always want that to exist in the Frozen universe so I can keep indulging in it, mean that any other direction for the story is bad? Of course anyone can infer basic things about Anna and Elsa without any headcanons, such as the fact that they love each other and enjoy being together, but when I ask myself questions like “What evidence do I really have that they’ll always want to live together?” or “Is Elsa really perfectly content being the queen of Arendelle as opposed to doing something else?” or “Does true love mean always having to physically be close to each other in order to be happy?” I realize that I can’t answer them as confidently as I’d like. 

As I asked myself questions like this and read the leaked art book pages a few times over - especially the foreward - I came to the conclusion that the creators did indeed put a lot of love and effort into their choices for Frozen 2, and their thought process for developing the story as described in the foreward makes sense even if it’s not the direction I personally would have gone. As I was reading it, I thought, if another fan like myself wrote it I would think “Hm, that’s an interesting interpretation, not quite how I see it, but valid nonetheless.” But in this case, the one with that interpretation is the creators, so all you can do is accept their view or move away. It’s not like they were way off and focused the sequel on a new character and pushed Anna and Elsa into the background, or even focused a lot on Anna and Kristoff: from everything I’ve read, the focus of Frozen 2 is still the “undying love of two sisters” (as Josh Gad put it), just not in the way I was expecting. Anna and Elsa’s bond has been conveyed as so strong it’s almost omnipotent and ethereal, even more so it seems in the sequel, so the interpretation is twofold: does the fact that it’s this strong mean that they always have to be together in order to be happy, or does it mean that time and space doesn’t matter because it’s so strong? Obviously the filmmakers (and others) interpret it the latter way while many fans interpret it the former. But can we really say one view is wrong and the other is right?

And even with all these leaks, there’s still a lot we don’t know: we still don’t know exactly what happens in Ahtohallan and other events leading up to the epilogue. We don’t know for sure that being the “fifth spirit” means Elsa will become a literal spirit or just get a boost in magical power. We don’t know all the whys and hows of her choosing to become the Snow Queen and giving the role of queen to Anna. These are very important plot points that I feel are best judged by actually seeing it with my own eyes and not drawing conclusions from vague book descriptions and concept art. Until I see it for myself, I can’t say how I’ll feel, so it’s better for my health and well being if I just stay positive. But even knowing all that I do about the ending now, when I look at my Frozen collection and all the imagery of Anna and Elsa holding hands and hugging, I’m asking myself “Does my knowledge of the Frozen 2 ending make me feel less connected to all the ‘snow sisters’ stuff I’ve indulged in for six years?” And to be honest, as of now, it doesn’t, which is a good sign. I do feel sad and jarred that I now have to throw out six year’s worth of headcanons and fan stories I’ve created in my mind...but you know what, I’m willing to start again because I still love Anna and Elsa and I think there will always be great story potential for them. I see the “old” Frozen imagery now as, yes, they had their time living together as sisters (would have liked to see more of it in canon but oh well) and now they have different roles in life, but that doesn’t negate the time they shared and the love they have. Of course, my opinion could change when I actually see Frozen 2, for better or worse, but I’ve already spent so long looking forward to this movie, there’s no point in backing out now and not making the best of it. 

As I stated in a past post (from right before the first leaks happened) my Frozen fandom is at a crossroads now and I can’t predict what it will be like a few months from now: I could love Frozen 2 and my fandom will continue on a long time, especially if Disney announces more installments (I still think Frozen 3 or 1.5 is a possibility), or I could find the ending distasteful enough that it makes me lose interest sooner, or regardless of whether I like the sequel or not, I lose interest in Frozen and move onto other fandoms. Or maybe I won’t, and lack of official content from Disney will cause me to take up fanfiction writing or something like that. But whatever happens, I’m going to stay positive because I don’t like being negative. For those of you who are appalled at the ending, I understand and I hope you’ll still see the movie for yourself it’ll change your mind even a little, but please handle it in the way that’s best for you (leave the fandom, indulge in fanfiction, sell your merch). And for others who are being accepting of it, I hope we end up pleasantly surprised.

Okay, I’ve rambled on long enough. This should be the last thought-spilling Frozen 2 post I write until I actually see the movie - I can’t imagine we could get anymore leaks or information at this point that would drastically change my view. In the meantime, I’m just gonna lay low and reserve final judgment until November 22nd (or sooner if I win tickets to the premiere!)