#i wanted to post the video of the moment she deliberately tried to make me fall but it just wouldn't upload

[hedgehog-moss]

Here are before/after pics of my two shorn llamas ✂ ✂ Pampoldine was the one with the most wool, which makes sense seeing as her father looks like a long-necked Komondor dog. I didn't shear Pampelune, she's my least woolly llama so I decided to leave her alone until next year, to her great satisfaction.

Shearing Poldine made me discover new aspects of her, like the fact that her tail is very impressive! It's not as striking when the rest of her is covered in equally thick hair but look at it now:

I had tried to prepare Poldine in previous weeks by stroking her with a stick in increasingly annoying ways while going bzzzzzz (we had reached a point where her only reaction to being bothered in this way was glaring at me). I should have bzzz'ed louder, though. Or maybe bothered her with an electric toothbrush instead, or sat on the couch with her to watch youtube shearing tutorials together with the volume turned up—because when the moment came she was very alarmed by what an ugly noise the shears made. Every time I turned the thing off to reapply oil to the clippers then turned it on again she was like aaaahhh what's that noise all over again.

I bought cordless shears so I could shear her in the pasture, surrounded by the emotional support of her loving family, but as soon as they saw Poldine tied to a post and heard that ominous robotic wasp sound, Pampe & Pampy went okay Poldine it was nice knowing you! And left. Abandoning their daughter / granddaughter to her grim fate.

(the very bad quality pics in this post are screenshots from bad quality videos) (oh and the grey fur you see at the bottom right is Pandolf's, my mum brushed him a few days ago. I promise I didn't shear Pandolf—although he would have probably volunteered, to share Poldine's suffering.)

Considering it was her first ever shearing, I think she was very brave and stoic! There was no spitting, no dramatic hyperventilating, no attempts to lie down on the ground and play dead as llamas sometimes do. (But wait for Part II.) She just danced around a lot to escape the shears, and made plaintive HMM sounds in a vain attempt to awaken some deeply-buried maternal instinct in Pampérigouste. Who never came.

The only (tiny) incident was when Poldine stepped towards me as I was shearing (surprising; she kept moving away before) so I took advantage of this spark of goodwill to lean over her back to shear on the other side, and then she abruptly stepped away and almost made me fall !

This second pic is the most malevolent Poldine has ever looked. She looks just like her mother!

But other than that, it went really well. The process was long and tiring (the shears get heavy after a while) and I kept discovering hidden unshorn spots when I thought I was almost done (look at these Niagara Falls of wool in the pic below!), but Poldine was very sweet. I didn't insist too much on her legs or under her belly as those were her least favourite parts, and I also left a little goatee at the top of her neck so she can stroke it pensively and look wise, and I gave her muesli afterwards and she gave me a kiss, no hard feelings. I couldn't have asked for a better llama partner for my first shearing.

My second shearing, however.

(Continued in Part II...)

[nebuvoid]

A pro-Kairi rant

This here is why I don't want canon undeniable confirmed no work around Sora/Kairi in future KH in a nutshell. This is my personal ramble I just want to get off my chest on my own blog. This is nothing against people that ship it.

It's not because I'm some ew yucky girl hater. It's the opposite. I've always loved Kairi and any sane fan will tell you she's been treated like crap through the entire series.

The moment she's confirmed to be "safe", she gets left behind. Again and again and again. She just wants to be included. She wants to break out of this role and is beat down every time she tries to.

KH3 does that again. MoM does that AGAIN. Like it's so deliberately disrespectful. Your role is to stay behind and stare longingly at the skyline.

Again and again we're shown that she tries to break out of this and can't. And no KH3 doesn't fix it. She once again has to rely on her Princess powers to be allowed to be relevant, when we're shown she wants to be actively a part of this with her fighting prowess. What does she get for that? Killed to be rescued again. I know some people thought Remind was a some great gotcha moment but really it just confirmed the already existing status quo.

And any moments to give her some development get deliberately pushed aside (Very cool we never see her training) or explained away (you can't learn during your adventure like EVERY other character, you specifically have to stay behind for this).

If the series wants to have this relationship, why go out of their way to cut her out over and over? Just as an example: We see Sora excitedly text Riku, why isn't he also talking about Kairi? No really, I'm asking. Even if she's in the timeless forest (sorry guys we can't show you a fun little level for that too much work ugh)(we just really needed Kairi to write a onesided letter to Sora and to remind Lea of Xion - because even here she's not allowed to have a moment for herself), a simple "Man, I wish I could send Kairi a message but I can't reach her there." line would've done a lot. Why make it so purposefully onesided? Why make it so sad and cruel.

Then you have the whole Winnie Pooh - Kairi parallel in KH3 plus the awkward paopu scene that really hammer home how things have changed, they have changed, expectations aren't working out. There's plenty other posts that dig deep into this.

If Kairi as she is now "gets officially together" with Sora, while she's still not allowed to develop her own identity, actually have her own moments, break out of her role as the pining left behind love interest... well maybe some people don't care but I do. It would feel so rotten. The heteronormative amatonormative mainstream media standard that the girl character doesn't need development, she can just be there to be longed after. You know when you watch a TV show and he was a boy she was a girl syndrome starts and you feel that uncomfortable feeling? It's that.

I thought we'd at least get something out of MoM but even here her moment gets stolen by Sora. I don't care if it's a heart connection or whatever, on screen I am once again Sora. (Just to be clear I love my boy Sora I'm just looking at this from an outside the game perspective.)

Actually there's a great video on that here.

Sora and Riku's relationship has been developed over the course of several games. We know them as people, we know their bond. Why should I care about Sora and Kairi in a romantic setting when the games go out of their way to give me next to nothing beyond "she's the girl 🤪you know". Like she's just a prop.

Kairi deserves better.

Let her develop her own connections. Let her actually find out about her past in RG. Let her finally be an actual equal to Sora and Riku. And then and only then can I be behind canon Sora/Kairi.

I wish I could word this better but I think about this and I'm just filled with indignation and I blank out.

Not because I'm a hater, but because I think Kairi deserves fucking better, do I not want a romantic relationship for her. A girl character is more than just a damn accessory. KH3 didn't do a great job with most characters, but at least in their respective games Aqua, Xion and Namine are allowed to have actual depth, motivation and feelings beyond a rigid role.

In conclusion *big sigh* if a canon romantic relationship for Kairi does take place without any of the above mentioned, I will be severely disappointed.

Now is the last chance to give Kairi the treatment she actually deserves. Considering the track record I don't exactly have high hopes.

P.S. Personally I think KH works best without romantic duos anyway. Platonic bonds can and are just as deep, romanticism just gets placed at the top of the hierarchy - usually - except KH always goes out of its way to show us that that doesn't matter. You don't see people shipping Aqua with Ven and yet no one would question they care deeply about one another. Romance isn't a requirement for love.

P.P.S. Why didn't you give her the damn ribbon Sora, that would've been a really sweet moment.

[selunesdreams]

Chapter 29: I Love You, It's Ruining My Life

With her hands tucked behind her back, he carefully guides her down to her knees and reaches for a nearby rope. She struggles on her stomach and Astarion pins her in place, bracketing her with his legs as he ties her wrists together. His lips brush against the delicate curve of her ear as he leans down, murmuring softly, “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be, love.” “Don’t you dare call me that.” She snarls. He flips her over with ease, his strong arms pulling her up to her feet before gently guiding her to a chair across the room. The dungeon reeks of decay and death and as she squints in the dark, she wonders how many people had been killed down here, if their bodies were rotting nearby.  How many of them had Astarion killed?

Chapter from ongoing fic Forms of Imprisonment. Full chapter/story on AO3.

Pairing: Spawn Astarion (post-tadpole) x OFC

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: 18+. Violence, sexual themes/sexually explicit imagery, abusive/abuse-adjacent, unwanted sexual advances/things you'd anticipate would make Astarion uncomfortable. Preexisting relationship, part of a series (that is generally explicit).

————————————————————————

Unable to sleep, Celeste lies in Astarion’s room, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. Despite Wyll and Nocturne’s offer, she politely declined Shadowheart’s old room. The bed, tucked away in the windowless, dreary attic, was only suitable for one person, and if she wasn’t sleeping, it might as well be her.

Two nights had passed since their arrival in Waterdeep, and Celeste had found sleep elusive on both occasions. Sitting up, she is greeted by the grumbling of her hungry stomach. She reaches into her pack, feeling the familiar touch of the owlbear stuffed animal that Astarion had painstakingly repaired for her, only to pull her hand back swiftly. Letting out a frustrated sigh, she retrieves a pair of trousers and a dark shirt, quickly dressing herself before wrapping a cloak around her shoulders. Barefoot, she descends the stairs silently, not wanting to wake her sleeping companions. 

Upon reaching the street, she takes a moment to slip on her boots, her eyes drawn upwards towards the sky. The moon, a delicate crescent, hangs precariously amidst the dazzling array of stars. If tomorrow’s a new moon, the Sharrans undoubtedly have something planned. Celeste curses under her breath, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach upon the realization she’d left her sword behind.

As she approaches The Blushing Nymph, she hears the boisterous chatter and clinking of glasses. Slipping in through the front door, she sidles up to the bar, the boarded-up window catching her attention.

“What can I get you?” the barkeep asks as he wipes down the counter, looking her over suspiciously. As Celeste looks around, she becomes acutely aware that she is unlike the typical patrons of the tavern. 

She utters “Ithbank” with a deliberate attempt to sound less formal, inclining her head towards the window. “What happened there?”

The barkeep digs underneath a cabinet for a fresh bottle and unscrews the cork with a weary sigh, as if he’s told the story hundreds of times already. “Aasimar, smashed right through in the middle of the night and got into it with some vampires over a glowing rock. Typical Waterdeep shit. Going to cost me a week’s worth of gold to repair that window.”

Triumph surges in Celeste’s chest as she realizes she may not need to seek Astarion after all. He’d already lost. 

As she settles her bill for the wine, she discreetly adds a few extra gold pieces to the stack on the counter, offering a subtle gesture of gratitude. “For your troubles.” She murmurs. Just as he tries to catch another glimpse of her, she vanishes into the shadows of a dimly lit backroom. 

As she scans the festhall, her upper lip curls with a hint of disdain, remembering Astarion’s mention of frequenting this place. It was no Elfsong, and there were hardly any redeeming qualities to be found. The center of the room is bustling with activity, as men of varying appearances gather around the large tables, engaged in lively discussions. Among the group, there was a mix of social classes - some affluent, some sailors passing through. A diverse array of beings, their group included a dragonborn, a couple of bugbears, a halfling, and a few humans. Celeste takes small sips of her wine, observing the group as they laugh, argue, and gamble, their camaraderie evident in their hearty claps on each other’s backs and the occasional spill of beer from their tankards.

In the corner, a human woman sits on the lap of a hobgoblin with a scarred face, their bottom halves exposed as they fuck openly. In the concealed darkness under the stairs, the air is thick with the smell of sweat and sex as more subtle visitors grind against one another on the wall, only the sounds of rustling clothes and muffled grunts underneath giving them away. 

An unsettling feeling sweeps over her as Celeste feels the weight of lecherous stares upon her. It quickly becomes apparent that she has unwittingly entered an unwelcoming area for someone of her standing. Slipping out the back door into the alley, she is met with the screeching of cats in heat and the clattering of glass bottles as creatures rummage through the trash bins. Piss, beer, and rotting food assault her nostrils, making the wine in her stomach churn. A disheveled drunk lies face down in the mud near the opposite wall, emitting loud snores, suggesting he was unceremoniously ejected. 

“Going somewhere?” A feminine voice asks as the door slams shut behind her. Keresta emerges from the shadows, her arms crossed, blocking Celeste’s path. “You’re far from home, Selunite.” With a playful wink, she remarks, “I never pegged you as someone who’d enjoy a place like this…” She snatches Celeste’s wine from her grasp, drinks the last drop, and nonchalantly tosses the empty glass away. “…But I did wonder if you’d show up.”

“I came for the Tear,” Celeste says, a mocking smile playing on her lips as she feels the warmth of the necklace against her skin under her shirt, “but word has it that it slipped through your fingers.”

Keresta scoffs. “The Tear was lost to Dame Aylin when she intercepted your, what is he to you now, ex-lover?” Despite being roughly the same height as Celeste, Keresta’s presence looms over her, exuding a powerful aura as she leans in closer. “He was bringing it to me. But if you help us, we can get it back…together. What do you think, sweetie?”

“Over my dead body.” Celeste snarls. Taking a step backwards, Celeste freezes as a familiar form presses against her, an icy hand constricting around her throat. 

“Rolan told you not to follow me, darling.” Astarion whispers in her ear, his voice deadly and seductive. “You should have listened.” 

Celeste finds herself unable to move, Astarion’s hands sliding down the lengths of her arms to her wrists, pinning them to her sides. Her breath catches, her heartbeat stumbles, and she can feel her worst fears being confirmed.

“Put her in the Undermountain dungeons for now. We’ll finish our discussion later.” Keresta commands Astarion, waving her hand dismissively and smiling to herself, “I have a meeting.” With a mischievous wink, she turns on her heel and saunters away, her hips swaying confidently. 

“Come on.” Astarion grumbles, guiding Celeste in front of him as he kicks aside a pile of garbage, revealing a long set of stairs leading into darkness. Despite her attempts to break free, Astarion effortlessly lifts her off her feet and slings her over his shoulder, carrying her into the Undermountain. Celeste curses and thrashes against him, but he remains unfazed. 

“Don’t fight me, Celeste.” He growls, and she obeys, knowing she’ll only waste her energy. As darkness slowly fades, a soft glow illuminates the granite floor beneath her. Torches, strategically placed along the hallways of carved rock, cast flickering shadows. The Undermountain greeted her with a cold embrace, its cellar-like atmosphere accompanied by a pervasive, musty smell. Astarion carries her past cells of men who jeer and make obscene gestures, causing her to scowl.

“Ignore it. You’ll only encourage them.” Astarion mutters, before kicking open a door at the end of the long hall and letting it slam behind them as he ducks inside.

With her hands tucked behind her back, he carefully guides her down to her knees and reaches for a nearby rope. She struggles on her stomach and Astarion pins her in place, bracketing her with his legs as he ties her wrists together. His lips brush against the delicate curve of her ear as he leans down, murmuring softly, “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be, love.”

“Don’t you dare call me that.” She snarls. He flips her over with ease, his strong arms pulling her up to her feet before gently guiding her to a chair across the room. The dungeon reeks of decay and death and as she squints in the dark, she wonders how many people had been killed down here, if their bodies were rotting nearby. 

How many of them had Astarion killed?

With a swift motion, he strikes a match against the stone wall, illuminating a candle on a nearby table adorned with a grim assortment of bloodied scalpels, daggers, and sickles. The match in his hand sputters and hisses as he shakes it, finally extinguishing it and leaving behind a wispy cloud of smoke. It weaves around his features and through his hair he walks towards her, discarding the charred wood carelessly on the floor. Leaning against a support beam, he pulls her necklace out of his pocket, letting it catch in the light. Her stomach drops as the hollowness around her neck becomes apparent, where the cherished heirloom had been since the moment she’d found it.  

When he’d affixed it around her neck at the Elfsong.

“Nice party trick, mm?” He asks her with a fanged grin as it sways back and forth in front of him.

“You’ve formed a bad habit of stealing from me.” She says bitterly. 

“I’m keeping you alive and keeping this out of Keresta’s hands.” He says with a sigh, tucking it back into his pocket. “Just like I did with the Tear.” 

Celeste cackles. “You lost the Tear because you’re arrogant. How does it feel to have nothing ?”

Astarion’s eyes darken, and he pulls a chair in front of her. The chair groans and hums as its wooden feet scrape against the hard floor. Straddling it in the opposite direction, he sits, using the back as a support for his arms.

“You really have no clue, do you?” He asks, cocking his head to the side. 

“That you’re a selfish, pretentious coward? I knew the second you poisoned me.”

“I wasn’t poison, Celeste…”

“Don’t get caught up in semantics! You betrayed me. You drugged me and you stole from me and you abandoned me.”

Hurt flashes across his face. 

“Is that what you think I did?”

She scoffs. “I’m sure you have some big explanation for everything-”

The door’s rusted hinges whine as they open, the heels of Keresta’s boots echoing against the granite as she enters the room. Celeste can’t help but notice how similar her fanged smile is to Astarion’s, that predatory, vampiric self-satisfaction. With one hand gripping the chair, Astarion stands, his gaze unwavering as he observes every subtle motion of the other vampire. 

“Comfortable?” Keresta asks condescendingly. “I’d have set you up in a spare bedroom, but you have a history of incinerating all my playthings.” Keresta casts a glance towards Astarion, her eyes roving his body. “I suppose you spared him.”

Celeste’s eyes bore into Keresta, not saying a word as the vampiress circles Astarion, sliding a hand over his shoulder and down his chest, her dark fingernails raking against his shirt. His skin prickles with revulsion and he closes his eyes slowly, trying not to lose his composure. 

Celeste’s skin heats as she tries not to let thoughts of Astarion and Keresta invade her mind, what they might have done together, if Astarion is warming her bed…

“Looks like the two of you didn’t kiss and make up. You know, I’ve been hoping to have him all to myself.” Keresta purrs before frowning. “Unfortunately, he’s still hung up on you .” 

Celeste feels a flood of relief, followed by a deep sense of self-disgust. Astarion’s expression radiates shame as he looks at her. How much of it was for betraying her, and how much of it was for finding himself in the clutches of another Cazador?

Astarion’s jaw tenses as Keresta slides a polished fingernail under his jaw before sauntering closer to Celeste.

“Will you change your mind, Celeste? For him? Shar still has hopes for you. You could have everything . I’d even keep my distance.” 

“No.” Celeste growls.

Keresta sticks out her bottom lip. “Shame,” she pouts. “But not unexpected.” Walking back over to Astarion, Keresta squeezes his face with one hand, her lips hovering just a breath from his own.

“Come, spawn, let’s leave her to think about her choices.” Keresta says, casting a wink at Celeste over her shoulder before she releases her fingers from his face. Astarion scowls and vigorously shakes his head, as if trying to erase the lingering sensation of her touch from his skin, before reluctantly trailing behind Keresta.

He watches Celeste under lowered eyelids until the door slams shut, causing Celeste to flinch. The flame of the candle on the table becomes the sole focus of her attention, providing the only semblance of comfort as she anxiously awaits its eventual extinguishing.

[3wisellamas]

Deltarune Halloween Prompts Day 24: Creepypasta

(Sorry this one's a little late, stuff...happened. ^^; But, I kinda wanted to post this one with today's anyway, so it worked out!)

---

"...Berdly? Are you okay?" Noelle looked at the bluebird on the front steps, panting and with sweat glistening on the tips of his feathers, like he'd just run completely across town. "We, um, said we'd study together tomorrow afternoon..."

"Didn't you get my email?!"

"Uh...I don't think so?"

Berdly looked up at her, disappointed, but tried his best not to show it. He didn't have time to coach her on the proper points of checking one's email every few minutes in case an unsolicited invitation from an ivy league school came in; rather, he cut right to the chase. "I need to use your console to play Dragon Blazers!"

Tilting her head to the side curiously, Noelle led him inside, to where she kept her games. "I thought you had your own console?"

"I ditched it when I upgraded to the Gamestation 360! You know I can't play without achievements or my Playertag, how else would I be able to prove what a superior gamer I am?!" He cleared his throat. "But, well...I have a need to play the older version, and I knew just the doe to help me! I accept your 'You're welcome's in advance!" Smirking, he ignored the dirty look Noelle shot him as she started up the game, and pulled over her laptop to finish the blog post she'd been writing when she'd been interrupted.

"Oh, good idea! I'll need to use your laptop too, to make sure I'm doing this right!" Sighing, Noelle saved her draft and passed it along, so that Berdly could show her that email that had been so important.

"So...you want to try recreating this story you found?"

"I couldn't have said it better myself, my dear Noelle! Except...I kind of did," he replied, clicking the link he'd included.

The web page opened to a listing of stories, rather difficult to read in red text on a black background, but Noelle read down to the one Berdly pointed to. "Drowned Elf Boy, Space Kaiju...these are all about video games?" She snickered, passing the laptop back to him. "These are...just creepypastas, Berdly. I've read all of them a million times!"

"Really?! I-I'm amazed you're so cultured, but then, we geniuses usually are!" Berdly finally found the one he wanted, letting Noelle see. "I found this one last night, and HAD to try it out!"

He'd opened an older story about Dragon Blazers, and it didn't take Noelle long to recognize its contents, nor the author, "holidaygirl1225."

"Um...Berdly?"

"Yes, I know it's probably a long shot, but if we could find whatever the author was talking about, it could be an amazing discovery! And we'd get all the credit!" All too late, though, Berdly realized the flaw in his plan, as he started a new game and watched three entire minutes of opening cutscenes. "Oh no, wait...this is in the ice area, isn't it? That's over six hours into the game..."

"Oh! Hang on a second!" Noelle held out her hand, motioning for Berdly to hand her the controller, and she loaded her old save file right outside the area. "I...still have this."

"You kept a file here?!" His eyes wide, Berdly looked up at her with new appreciation. "You must've known this area had its secrets! That's why you're the smartest person I know, aside from myself of course!"

"Of course..." Deciding it'd be best not to let on exactly why she had the file, Noelle watched as Berdly tried retracing the creepypasta author's steps, getting more frustrated with each moment his character spent lost in the icy maze. "It's not working! They must've copied these directions wrong, or deliberately made it so you couldn't follow them..."

"Here, let me try." Again, Berdly handed off the controller, and Noelle reloaded her save to start from scratch. Taking a few moments to remember the steps, she made her way through the maze, but as she did so the realization of what she was doing hit her, and yet again she panicked, going down instead of up at the end.

"Oh...whoops, I guess that wasn't it!" She passed the controller back to Berdly. "You can try again, but I guess it's impossible."

"Yeah..." Sighing, Berdly made a few more attempts, but then gave up, switching off the console. "Guess it was just a made-up story after all. Oh well! I'll go see if there's any secrets in Dragon Blazers VII, or at least get that 'No Damage on Any Boss' achievement I've been working on!"

Once he left, Noelle booted the game again, going through the maze just as she had a few minutes before, the only difference being her going up instead of down, and there it was. Pushing down the reflex to scream and shut off the game just like when she was a kid, she approached the gray door, checking it, poking it, prodding it, trying every way she could think of to open it, but without the key she was once again stuck.

"Someday..." Making sure her save file was still in place, she shut off the game.

[marvel-ousmondays]

Iron Man 3

Things are about to get interesting.

A friend and I happened to be talking Marvel movies not that long ago and she mentioned how many people didn't like this one but she loved it. I had vaguely remembered the complaints, mostly centered around The Mandarin.

So let's deal with that squarely first.

As mentioned in my first post, I did NOT grow up reading the comics or watching animated TV shows about Marvel characters. Before I happened to go to the Iron Man movie with friends, I wasn't even aware of the character. Many times this puts me at a disadvantage when discussing the MCU, as my observations may lack nuanced understanding or I may miss callbacks altogether. BUT there are rare cases where it is a benefit.

This is one of those cases.

IF you are able to let go of your previous knowledge of The Mandarin, I don't see how you can argue that what happens here is a brilliant twist. The idea that a jaded and scorned man who once championed science could, in this world that constantly rewarded Tony's frankly abominable behavior, become someone who answered money and power's call but knew well enough to hide his face while doing it? That's brilliant. Ben Kingsley's portrayal of both "The Mandarin" and Trevor Slatterly are incredible. The fear those videos create is palpable even when you are watching. All to reveal it's a masquerade, a charade.

That's some pretty epic deception and clever for someone who wants real power.

Guy Pearce also plays a character like Killian very well. At one moment, smooth and handsome, that slow and deliberate way of speaking, taking complete control of a room. There's a sense of a danger around him even then- something that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, something that just doesn't sit quite right- but you shake it off because, well, there's nothing sinister happening. Then later we see it, but even then he is almost always deliberate. The way he holds Pepper by her neck and just repeats "Pepper, Pepper" while shaking his head at such an unruly subject. His cold demeanor as he heats up Rhodey's suit. Even his fighting with Tony. The question I would have is whether that is all part of the regulating or just arrogance. If it's not the former, he was a fool.

Really random note from this one was the realization of how much gum chewing is linked with condescension in films. Killian's "lieutenant" for lack of a better term is constantly chewing gum and it makes it him look so much more of an ass. (In a good way- it's his character.) There's something about gum chewing on screen that says "You are not worth my proper diction."

My favorite thing about this movie will always be that it was the moment when I knew MCU wasn't going to "fridge" its women. We have a brief moment of fear that Pepper is dead, smartly done close enough to the end to be a real possibility. Then she not only reappears, but saves Tony's ass. She even makes a joke about "What, because I fell 200 feet?"

I want to take a second here because I'm sure someone, somewhere, is thinking "yeah they were too SCARED to kill a main character." To that I say, fuck off. There is PLENTY of death in this movie. The female scientist's (played wonderfully by Rebecca Hall) death is particularly harsh as she had tried to use her own suicide as a bargaining chip. The empty Iron Patriot suit kills many secret service people. Happy isn't killed but spends the bulk of the movie in hospital.

And regardless, in superhero films and comics and tv of the past, it was nearly always the girlfriend/wife who had to die. Not only is death NOT the only way to force growth upon our superhero, but also we certainly should be able to spread the death around. I, for one, was glad to see things were going to be different here.

Also, the Kid was great. I am curious if they may ever bring this character back in some way. There's definitely a possibility there.

Complaints? There was a bit too much forced humor here. This is definitely where we start to see lines played for comic relief that don't fit the tension of the scene. RDJ has a few, though I always give Iron Man a bit of a pass here as that is a very Tony trait. But Don Cheadle had a few as well, and while he delivers them well, they just don't jive with Colonel in crisis mode.

(Exceptions- the dude who ends up putting his gun down saying he hates working there, they're so fucking weird gets an A+ as does Pepper's line about how violent she just was.)

Also, it may be the current economic and environmental landscape, but the waste of blowing up all those iron man suits really bugged me. At least used the scrap for something my dude.

This one also might have been just a bit too long, but I struggle to pick any particular scene to cut.

Note for me:

Directed by: Shane Black

[fmdxsuji]

word count: 858 words (excluding lyrics) notes: creative claims (full lyrics) verification self-para for drawing our moments!

she’s scrolling through equinox’s fan cafe when a post catches her attention. there’s a single heart as the title, but it’s addressed to her. as always, suji tries her best to read all the letters that are written to her. she’s been a little behind these days, and so she’s been trying to make up for that by reading everything today.

it’s no surprise to see so many letters were written late at night. night? can she even consider that time frame night? it was more like early morning. nevertheless, they acted as a reminder of the many people who seemed to struggle to fall asleep at night. 

while she doesn’t share the same concern, she loves hearing from her fans and casual listeners about how her music helps them out. comforts them. it’s probably the biggest thing that pushes her to continue writing music. there’s a couple of tracks that are always mentioned when people like to talk about her most comforting songs. suji’s never deliberately written anything to push those emotions, but she does like providing help in that sense. 

as she scrolls through the letters, she finds that they have a common theme of needing a hand to hold. needing someone to lean on. she’s heard of how staying up late at night can bring on a wave of emotions, and she wonders how many people use their letters to her to express their supressed thoughts. how many people use the place as their safe zone.

she gets it, she really does, because that’s the role music plays in her life as well.

taking a look at her own clock, she sees that it’s gotten late which means it’s time for her to go to bed herself. however, the words that she read don’t seem to escape her mind.

not for a really long time.

/

it isn’t until a conversation she holds with an older idol that the letters pop back into her mind. 

the conversation doesn’t last long because she only ends up bumping into him in the middle of a cafe at cheongdam. a quick coffee run before she has to go off to a schedule. he’s busy himself so he only offers a few words.

“it’s weird, seeing my fans grow older along with me. it’s like we’re walking through our lives together. and while they say that i’ve influenced them, i can’t deny that they’ve influenced me as well. it’s a nice feeling to be able to go through everything together, so try not to forget it.” 

she thanks him before her manager is ushering out, but once she gets back into her van, she can’t help but think back to his words.

just like him, she can’t deny that her fans have influenced her as well. whenever she was feeling down, she’d think about them. whenever she’s writing a song, they’re the first ones she thinks of. whenever she feels lost, she goes back to videos of her from concerts or performances. that’s what motivates her to keep going. the energy that her fans send her.

before she knows it, she’s already taken her phone out and opened up the notes app. she doesn’t have a lot of time on her hands, but she can’t seem to keep these thoughts to herself. she’s unsure if it’ll ever turn into anything more than a diary entry, but she’s determined to express it somehow.

even if the road in front of us seems dark when your color bleeds into me i take the light from heaven in my dreams and draw you 

along with it, she makes a mental note to herself to perhaps turn this into some kind of segment in the future. whether it’s on a live or offline event, she wants to ask her fans when they think about her the most. her, the group, her songs and all that. when does she bleed into her fans’ lives? because they’re constantly existing in her life, and she wants to know if it’s the same for them.

the transparent raindrops that fall down my window can’t be counted just like the starry night that’s taken over me like you

for a moment, suji wonders if she’s always been this cheesy. usually, she’s not this kind of person. she’s not even all that expressive with her emotions. it’s why she relays it through lyrics instead. however, what the senior idol has told her continues to linger in her mind, and she can’t help but imagine life when all of this disappears. when the spotlight no longer drops onto her or her group anymore, and she’s left with nothing but her songs to keep her name alive.

she’s never been one to avoid reality, especially in this industry. she already knows that equinox is way past their peak moment, and that they’re riding a steady wave instead. however, that’s still a wave to ride on. what happens when all of that vanishes? 

all that would be left are the memories and what have been drawn from them.

and it’s not like that’s a devastating thing either. rather, she thinks making a slow stop would be nice. it’s simply another reminder to be grateful for everything she has right now, to cherish the moments with her fans so that she lives on in their lives as some kind of influence.

because she knows they’ll always be a part of her life as well.

[elysianslove]

secrets that you keep; iwaizumi hajime 

synopsis; in which his best friend is secretly a camgirl. part 1, part 2 

pairings; iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader

genre; smut

trigger warnings; i highly recommend reading the first two parts before this. they’re only drabbles that introduce everything! anyways, this is absolute filth. don’t read this if any of the stuff mentioned could trigger you, please! masturbation, camgirl stuff, one mention of the word ‘daddy,’ self choking, degradation, humiliation, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, creampie, a lot of choking, accidental breathplay, not proofread unfortunately 

she knows. 

does she? 

it’s an ongoing inner battle he’s been having for weeks now, ever since he’d been directed to that trending video of yours. he sees you in his dreams, hears you loud and clear, moaning and crying for him, and worst of all, he feels you, so perfectly, against his, around him, and it’s overwhelming in the worst way possible. even maintaining eye contact is tiresome at this point. 

but he does wonder whether you know or not, more often than he should— were you deliberately calling out for him, in hopes that he’d find this video somehow? or had you said it because you’d assumed this is your safe place, that there’s no way he’d be able to find these videos? had it been a slip up? or, more accurately, multiple slip ups? what were the chances anyways, that it had been an accident, or unintentional, or intentional and he had been losing sleep over it, or that he wasn’t the hajime you were crying out for? 

his heard hurt. awfully. there’s already the constant worry of regulating his breathing around you and cleansing his thoughts of anything he’d seen of you the moment you meet, but this added dilemma is in no way helping. every day that you text him for a coffee date, or a night out after a rather stressful week, or a night in at your apartment, and he agrees, his mind diverts immediately to where it shouldn’t as soon as he lays eyes on you. and the worst part of it all is how aware he is of how wrong this is. he knows it’s wrong to choose the revealing shirt over the other when you ask him for his opinion, just because he wants that effortless glance at your cleavage. it’s also so wrong of him to give a higher rating to that obscenely short dress than that other, knee length one because of the way your thighs squeeze when you sit. it’s definitely wrong of him to offer clasping your anklet, the one he’d gotten for you, the one that had been the dead giveaway to your secret online persona, just because your legs feel so soft against the rough pads of his fingers, when he resists the urge to trail upwards, upwards, upwards—

it’s fucking ridiculous. 

he can’t believe just how deep of a rabbit hole finding one of your videos is, how it’s impossible to climb out and away, and even worse, how he keeps falling deeper. the one time he decides to jerk off to porn. it’s really ridiculous. 

about a week ago, three weeks after finding that video of yours someone had uploaded— which had been taken down because of copyright, and hajime personally thinks that’s fair, considering there’s a reason you pay people to watch your videos and look through your photos, otherwise you would’ve taken the liberty to post everything for free yourself— hajime gives in, and subscribes to you. it’s with a randomized account name, something he tried his very best to make as anonymous as possible, so that it would in no way lead back to him. he doesn’t check in on your account as often, also having taken the time to turn off notifications and not have anything sent to his email, and it’s mostly out of shame. he already feels dirty enough having seen this much of you, even more that he’s fantasized about you. he’s not about to make it worse for himself.

every once in a while, though, especially days where he’s sure he’s completely free of responsibilities, he logs on, and finds your page. it just so happens that tonight, you’re hosting a live stream. swallowing his pride and shame, literally so, he shifts on his bed, sitting up straighter, and clicks to join. 

he’d been a little late apparently, because you’re already bare, sitting on a chair. your legs are lifted up, knees bent and hooked over the chair’s arms, the camera angled to show everything, from your cute eyes to the flesh of your ass. there’s a vibrator in your hand, buzzing lightly as it hovers by your clit, dipping between your folds, sliding back up again to rub lazily at your clit. beneath you, on the chair, is a small damp spot, leaking from your cunt. hajime stops himself before his jaw falls slack at the sight of you, and instead, he clears his throat, gritting his teeth and watching carefully. 

you’re not so talkative during your videos, just exclamations of pleasure and (the most beautiful of) noises, so he hadn’t expected you to be during your lives. to his surprise, you are, and it’s filthy. 

whimpering lightly, you press the vibrator harsher on your clit, your other hand traveling up to squeeze at your breast. “m’so needy,” you admit with a soft pout, adding, “want you to tell me what to do, mmh.”

he’s assuming the ‘you’ is the audience, whoever’s willing to speak up, and it’s then that he notices the chat option. his eyes flicker curiously to it, hands twitching where they sit fisted at his lap as he sees the chat explode with orders and commands and suggestions for you. 

one writes, stuff urself full, and hajime gapes. 

another commands, wanna see u cry tn, and hajime privately agrees. 

someone else writes, gonna squirt princess? 

hajime’s hands twitch again, and he frowns, digging his nails into his palms. you’re ignoring all the suggestions, and it’s obvious because you’re reading through them, mouthing some of them, giggling at some, curiously gasping, ‘oh,’ at others, eyebrow quirking. the vibrator trails down to your hole again, and you experimentally dip it inside slightly, shivering visibly as the vibrations rush through you, and the moment he hears you moan so loud, he thinks, fuck it, and his hands reach for his keyboard. 

choke yourself. 

fuck, fuck, fuck, he did not just do that. 

his heart is racing embarrassingly fast beneath his ribcage, loud and pathetically deafening in his ears as he watches your eyes read through the rest of the messages, and you’ve stopped mouthing them, your eyes are widening— which one are you at now? are you just going to ignore him? why wouldn’t you? of course you—

“you’d like that, huh?” you teasingly slur, a lazy, cheeky grin painting your lips, your teeth biting down on your lower lip and your hand— your hand— 

it’s trailing upwards, upwards, upwards, until it finds its way around your throat, resting lightly, and just as he sees your fingers squeeze at the sides of your neck slightly, carefully, you pout at the camera, looking straight at him, and asking, “like this, daddy?” 

a low fuck wheezes past his lungs, and his hand quickly presses down at the bulge in his sweatpants, squeezing and rubbing at his clothed dick as he watches you, entranced. people watching you with him have taken to thanking him for the idea, and to praising you, calling you a good girl, cursing, rapidly typing out something along the lines of you’re so hot i wanna fuck you so bad, and god, hajime hates that he relates to something as stupid as that. 

your hips roll and your head falls back, hand not once leaving your throat. if anything, your grip tightens. you click on the vibrator, and the buzzing becomes louder, your moans with it, as if you were competing. you cry and gasp and sob, writhing in your own hold, your thighs tensing and your hole clenching around nothing as you harshly rub the vibrator against your clit. your cunt gushes and drips as you bring yourself closer to your orgasm, as you cry out a string of, “m’gonna cum, so close, so close!” and a mixture of lewd curses, until finally, you cum. you’re sent over the edge, legs swinging on the chair, high pitched squeals falling from your lips— which hajime can’t decide are real or not, or whether he wants them to be or not. you thrash and cry, tears, as promised to some other watcher, dripping down your cheeks. 

the last straw however, is your comedown from your high, sobs hiccuping and muscles twitching, eyes half closed and body limp as you mewl out, “hajime, hajime, hajime,” like you’re not even aware you’re doing it. like it’s subconscious. 

hajime swears again, a deep, low, “fuck,” and looks down to find a damp spot on his lap. he really came from barely any friction, all because of you. this really is as ridiculous as it gets. 

the next time he sees you, there are the faintest of bruises on your neck. it’s not so obvious that just anyone would notice, but ever since becoming hyperaware of everything that is you and everything that you do, it’s hard not to have them be the first thing he sees. to ensure that the atmosphere between the two of you remains easy, he flicks at your neck and tuts with a smirk, asking you jokingly if you were in your hoe phase. 

“so vulgar, hajime,” you sarcastically retort, teasing him. “you like calling me mean things?” and he has to avert eye contact because all his walls crumble so quick. 

it’s just the two of you tonight, in his apartment, all your other mutual friends having cancelled at one point or another. it’s not an unusual occurrence; more often than not, the two of you are alone. however, it’s been a while since you’d been alone, privately. a while meaning ever since hajime had discovered your side hustle of a sort. he hadn’t been purposely avoiding this— no, maybe he has, but to be fair, he’s still yet to recover from the initial shock. 

it also doesn’t help that since today had meant to be a relaxing night in, you’re dressed casual, but in the hottest fucking way possible. he hopes he hadn’t been blushing as hard as he thinks, and feels, he was, when you’d first stepped into his home. on your hips is a short, black skirt, flowing out to your upper thighs, where just above your knees start a pair of dark thigh highs, squeezing at your thighs and accentuating your legs as you strut around his apartment, feet bare of any shoes or slippers. he can’t decide whether it’s cute or just plain hot. somehow, with you, it’s both. your shirt is off the shoulder, a dark, navy blue bardot, and beneath it, peeking out to rest at your collarbones, is a black bralette. he can barely just see the intricate lace designs, but it disappears and dips beneath your shirt before he can see more of it. 

you’re spread out on the couch, laying along it on your stomach, a pillow tucked in your arms and beneath your head, your clothed legs bent and swinging up in the air. he sits right by you, thigh right by your head, his body as tense as ever. it’s impossible not to be you, not with you in such close proximity to him when only a few days ago he’d watched you make yourself cum, and had heard you whimper out his name after. who can blame him, really?

with your eyes trained on the screen, he hadn’t been expecting you to speak up. 

“iwa, what type of porn do you watch?” 

he nearly chokes, eyes widening as he spares you a glance. your legs continue to swing innocently, your eyes unmoving, your voice unwavering. the suddenness of the question certainly threw him off, but it’s your nonchalance that really shocks him. but, considering everything, it really shouldn’t have. 

“uh, what?” he offers weakly, wincing slightly at the barely there crack in his voice. 

you sigh, shifting to sit up. you plant yourself on your knees, spreading them apart slightly to get comfortable, and shrugging at him. “i’m just curious,” you say. “or,” your eyes squint cautiously, your head cocking to the side slightly, “do you not watch porn?” 

challengingly, his arms lift up to cross at his chest, and he doesn’t miss the way your eyes momentarily glance at the way his biceps bulge. it makes his confidence spike slightly, nervousness ebbing away. “what type of porn do you watch?” 

you gasp dramatically, joking, “take a girl out to dinner first, my god.” he laughs, relaxing lightly at the banter, before his eyes fall back to you. you inch forward curiously, cautiously, still on your knees. now closer to him, you ask again, “seriously, i’m really curious! confirm my suspicions for me.” 

“oh?” he quirks an eyebrow. “so you think you know?” 

at this, you offer him a knowing smile, eyes slightly half lidded. you’re somehow even closer now, leaning towards him with your hands resting on the small space between you and him in the couch, helping you in lifting yourself up slightly on your knees as you say in a low voice, “baby, i think everyone knows.” 

at the sight of you by his side, he feels himself shiver, and an idea invades his mind before he can even process it. “oh, do you now?” he’s not sure where this boldness is emerging from, especially with how cautious and shameful he’d been and felt for weeks now, but he accepts it either way, because the way you’re staring at him like that, he never wants to let it go. and although he wants to drag out this intense eye contact even longer, in order to do what he wants to do, he has to break it, reaching for his phone instead. unable to contain your curiosity, you peak over, watching with confusion as he types out a link. 

the blood drains from your face when you recognize your page on his browser, and he’s logged on— he’s subscribed. 

“what type of porn do i like to watch?” he wonders rhetorically. the phone is pushed aside, and he sits up straighter so that even on your knees, he looms over you. his eyes are skimming over you, along your body, up to your neck, to your lips, to your shocked, wide eyes. and just as his hand trails up to your throat, his palm resting at the base and one finger tapping lightly, he says, “the type where my favorite girl cries out my name when she cums for the world to see.” 

the hand around your throat—

“you,” you breathe out, and finally, finally, when your brain makes sense of everything, your body relaxes, sags against him, leaning more into him until his hand’s properly wrapped around your throat. 

with your mind hazing over, you reach over, and kiss him. 

he meets you halfway, as if having expected it, lips pressing harshly against his. his hand tightens as he pulls you closer, lifting you up slightly and bringing you closer to him as his mouth parts, breathing you in, and kissing you deeper, lewder. you shiver and gasp, hands grasping at his wrist and forearm, not to push him away but rather to urge him closer, as you kiss him back just as eagerly. it seems like hours, with his hand around your neck, tight and a daunting reassurance, and your lips wet and hot against his, but eventually, his hand slides down, the other mirroring it, finding their way to your waist, squeezing and bunching at the skirt as he, with complete and utter and shocking ease, lifts you up off the couch. 

you gasp as he stands up with you, your legs quickly wrapping around his waist as he pulls you to him. as he blindly walks the two of you to his bedroom, he breathlessly asks in between your kisses, “is this— you sure this is okay?” 

with a sharp tug at his hair, you jokingly spit out, “iwa shut up.” 

he tosses you onto the bed, allowing you a minute to strip yourself of your shirt while he slips out of his own, before quickly falling above you, caging you in with his arms as he kisses you again. “not iwa,” he quietly asks of you. 

for a moment you’re confused, before everything clicks again— your slip ups— and your legs lift up, wrapping around his waist and pulling his hips closer to yours just as you mewl out, “hajime, please.” 

god, he is way easier than he thought he was. 

his entire body shudders above you, one hand lowering to push at your skirt to grind his hips down against yours until his clothed crotch meets your bare cunt and— holy fuck, holy fuck. 

“fuck, you slut.” 

you gasp at both his words and the feel of his bulge pressing down against your clit, his lips meeting your neck instead. “you do like calling me mean things,” you say, and he scoffs, his hand traveling upwards to squeeze at your breasts instead. 

“you like me calling you mean things,” he notes, and you let out a muffled moan as he pinches at your nipples through the bralette, lips biting and sucking at your neck. 

“i do,” you pant, arching up into him. “i do, i do.” his hands are fumbling at your chest, and god, they’re so large, so big and warm and harsh, it’s fogging up your brain. 

“yeah, yeah, fucking whore,” he growls, pushing himself slightly on his knees, hands tugging at the bralette. his fingers dip past, gripping the fabric tightly, and as he says, “can’t fucking— take this shit— off,” he tears through it, knuckles whitening as he pulls it away from your body, or what’s left of it. the frills of the ruined bra fall off the edge of his bed, and he watches your wide eyes and gaping mouth follow it, so he grabs at your jaw, twisting your gaze away from it and grunting a low, “shut up.” 

you pull away from the kiss, breathing heavily as you say, “that was so fucking hot, hajime,” before kissing him again. he parts his mouth as you lead him to you again, tongue easily meeting yours. 

it’s a messy kiss as he slips himself out of his sweatpants, taking his boxers with it and discarding them somewhere in his room. his cock slaps against his stomach, a single string of precum messily staining his tan abs. your eyes are quick to gaze down, lips painted a dazzling grin as his hand finds his cock, squeezing at the head and smearing his precum along. 

“knew you were fucking big,” you gasp, eyes trained on him as he strokes himself above you, and he is. he’s so big, thick and heavy, and veiny and your mouth waters at how that’s going to feel when inside of you, stretching you out so good, so much better than any of the toys you had at home. “i thought,” a squeal hiccups out of you as both of his hands grab at your hips from beneath your skirt, one sticky and warmer than the other, “about you all the time.” 

your confession draws his attention, and when he’s pulled you close enough, two of his fingers trail to your cunt, quirking an, “oh?” just as he dips his fingers inside. the lack of resistance he’s met with is surprising, and he chokes out, “did you stretch yourself out before coming here? fuck yourself on some fake cock?” 

tightlipped, you moan, brows furrowed and back arched into him. god, his fingers were not enough. “yes, yes,” you gasp, head falling back. despite not needing to, he still fingers you, his thick digits fucking into you slowly, driving you insane by the second. “yes, i— pretended t’was you,” you whine loudly. at your words, he curls his fingers inside of you, twisting his wrist and pressing his palm directly on your clit. 

“do you always?” he lowly asks, dipping closer to you as he fucks his fingers deeper. his fingers were inside of you, the cunt he’d spent over a month marveling at through a screen, the pretty pussy his dick had drooled over for hours. you’re real, as real as ever beneath him falling apart, making a mess of your black skirt, drenching it with your arousal. 

you moan out a hum, nodding dumbly as his fingers vibrate with the intensity of speed inside of you, your toes curling in your thigh highs and face twisting to press into his mattress. “always,” you cry out, like a promise. “always think of you— hajime!”

it’s an unexpected orgasm, hitting you so fast and quick that it’s outright dizzying. it has you lifting your hips up into his fingers and palm, grinding and trembling, your legs falling and spreading open, shaking wildly by your side and above you as he fucks you through the orgasm. 

“hajime, hajime, hajime,” you chant, words trailing off into tiny sobs and shuddering breaths as your hips slowly fall back onto the bed, body still trembling with aftershocks. 

you’re fucked out beyond words already that you genuinely don’t feel a thing until he’s pressing inside of you, the fat head of his cock stretching you out. he’s really no match for your toys, and if seeing him hadn’t been enough confirmation, the feel of him pressing inside of you definitely is. he doesn’t ease himself in slowly, urgently grabbing the back of your thighs with either hand, keeping your legs spread for him as he bottoms out. 

“fuck, fuck, knew you’d feel so good,” he grunts, brows furrowed harshly as he digs his fingers deeper against the flesh of your thighs, forcing your legs closer to your chest, and somehow pushing himself even deeper within you. you whine and mewl, toes curling and uncurling and legs trembling. “knew it the moment i saw your pretty pussy creamin’ around that thick cock.” 

at the reminder that he’s watched and witnessed you, multiple times, that he’s subscribed to you willingly and curiously, you clench down around him. you feel him twitch inside of you, groaning loudly as he falls closer to you, your legs falling to his waist. 

“you like knowing i was watching you?” he sneers, his hand reaching up and gripping at your face, squishing your cheeks and forcing a pout on your lips. your eyes nearly fucking cross as he rams into you, his fingers digging into your jaw. “you like that i fucked my fist every night to you? to your pretty cunt and your pretty noises and your pretty face— yes, good girl, that one.” 

your eyes do cross this time, spurred on by his words, your tongue peaking out through the small gap he allows with how harsh he’s gripping your face. he’s pushing out little mewls and cries from you, but otherwise, you quite honestly feel braindead. 

“fuck, you’re a gorgeous little slut,” he gasps. “all mine to fuck and use.”

you’re quick to nod rapidly, whining and moaning for him as you grip at his biceps. you’re choking on your breath as you struggle to keep up with him while he fucks you into the mattress, so fucking hard and rough that you’re sure there’ll be an indentation of you once you leave. you can feel your cunt gushing, and you can hear it too, squelching loudly with every thrust of his hips, every time his cock fucks into you. your skirt feels sticky and gross, and so does the rest of you, but you’ve never, never, felt this euphoric, this blissed out. 

your stomach tightens impossibly, the tension gradually increasing as your walls tightly squeeze and clench at his cock. slowly and surely, the pressure within you increases, your hands flying to hajime’s arm, the arm whose hand grips your face, which quickly moves to your throat at your simple gasping warning that you were close. 

“gonna cum, gonna cum, hajime, fuck!” 

he tightens his grip, pressing harsher on the sides of your neck as your eyes shut tightly, your head falling back once more. 

“yeah, come on, show me how pretty you look cumming on a real cock,” he whispers by your ear, using the hand that’s around your throat to lift up your head, before roughly pushing it back down, squeezing tighter. “you like it this rough?— shit, shit, you’re tightening.” 

you scream, voice cracking and broken as he slams into you again, his hips grinding against yours momentarily, pelvis hitting your clit— and you’re gone, thrashing in his hold, fat tears streaming down your cheeks as you sob and heave, your body shaking uncontrollably beneath him, hips shaking as your orgasm rocks through you. it’s not a few seconds later that he’s spilling inside of you, accidentally pressing his palm down against your throat as he cums, blocking your airway momentarily. 

“hngh,” he gasps deeply, cock twitching inside of you as he cums, hips barely grinding. you’re gasping, a little painfully, struggling to take in any air as he blinks dazedly, before he finally takes notice. “shit, shit, i’m sorry.” 

his hand flies away from your throat, and you inhale sharply, coughing lightly as air fills your lungs all too suddenly. the strength of this man, holy fuck. 

“i’m so sorry; are you okay?” 

chest still heaving, you fall onto the bed, body relaxing as you try and regulate your breathing. “s’okay, i’m okay,” you reassure him, hands reaching up to pat at his cheeks and comb through his messy, sweaty hair. 

he leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and it’s so endearing that you nearly forget he’s still inside of you. but you feel the shift of his cock, feel his cum slowly start to ooze out of your cunt, and he winces from the oversensitivity, shifting away to instead pull out of you. his soft cock falls from your cunt, a steady flow of his cum following. hajime has to physically resist from reaching out to fuck it back into you. 

“i’m sorry i wasn’t careful ‘nough with the—“ he makes a gesture with his hands around his neck, “—the choking.” 

you laugh lightly, tiredly, hands slowly caressing at his sweaty biceps. “stop apologizing,” you reassure him again, shrugging with a small smile as you add, “just be more careful next time.” 

his breath gets caught in his chest, and he only softly exhales when he falls on the bed, to your side, carefully repeating, “next time.” 

from beside him, you lift yourself up on your side on your elbow, palm cradling your head, trying your best not to wince in pain. “hajime?” 

he spares you a glance as he mumbles, “hm?” opting to stare at the ceiling and contemplate whether what had just happened was real life or not. 

“do you wanna do a video with me?” 

he all but chokes. 

end note; please this took me like 4+ hours. please please please don’t flop, and more importantly, i really hope i don’t disappoint. i know this has been a long awaited piece, so i’m praying and hoping you guys love it. 

love you all, mwah <3 

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN– Season 2] Victor and MC Chapter 25 (Eng Translation Part 1)

“....if this is the last message you send me.... would this be your tone of voice?”

⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a chapter that is yet to be released in the global server. ♡

✧ There’s a part in the chapter which might feel a bit confusing, so I will explain things as we go by, no worries. Please try to be patient with me. I promise, it will be worth the pain. And yes, tissue papers.... 🥺✊

┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈

—

These infos are needed for the chapter:

[CH 23]: MC has been unable to reach Victor in recent time, and he wasn’t at BS when she went there 2 days back. Today she dials him wanting to ask, if he knows about the strange appearance of meteors; but he doesn’t pick up the call today either.

[CH 24]: MC is called in for a meeting at BS with the Twelve, who have conflicting opinions among themselves. Victor isn’t here today either. MC’s conversation ends on a bad note with the Twelve, and on her way back, MC encounters a deliberately caused car accident, resulting in her plummeting into the sea.

HIGHLY, HIGHLY, VERY HIGHLY recommend following with the video, I will add timestamp according to the one I’m sharing: ♡♡

—

✧ [CH 25-1] ✧

[Note]: This takes place after MC wakes up from sleep at night. She’s staying temporarily at a cottage due to the CH 24 incidents, (not at her new apartment):

Timestamp: 2:05

—

Staring at the standby screen of my phone, I sink into contemplation for a moment.

If the previous attack was done by the people of BS as well, then they should probably think that I’m dead. Perhaps, I can use this to feel them out....

Suddenly, the phone flickers black screen for an instant.

In the same instant, a piercing pain spreads through my body once again as a roar explodes in my ears, making my vision blurry.

I see the ruins of a building sliding down– reminiscent of the dripping of light rain, pouring out smoke and dust.

The world suddenly sinks into silence, as though the sky has been obscured beneath the rubbles.

A man is lying underneath a boulder, his eyes closed, as if he were asleep.

An eerie red dyes his suit, spreading out from beneath his body, and dripping into the gaps of the darkness.

My eyes widen in horror as the whimpering wind sweeps through the man’s hair resting in front of his forehead, revealing those pair of familiar eyebrows....

It’s Victor.

—

┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈

✧ [CH 25-2] ✧

MC starts panicking because the blood seemed extremely real. She worries if this is foreknowledge but she’s confused since to her knowing, she has lost this power in the new world.

This is the second time she’s seen things like this because of the flickering black screen. She tries to calm herself down:

Timestamp: 4:12

—

For so long, Victor has been continuously unreachable. And with the radiation at the moment, BS is highly suspicious.

That heart-rending scene has been hanging in the back of my mind all along, lingering there even after a very long time.

MC: Calm down, MC. Calm down!

I pat myself firmly on the face. If I’ve made up my mind to leave here, then I must have the sufficient consciousness needed to confront everything that might happen next.

I close my eyes, and confirm my goal one more time. Then I pack up briefly, and put on a hat and a mask.

After walking out of the room, I look back at the quiet cabin——

Finally, I close the door firmly.

—

I pull on the mask, pretending to walk out of the elevator naturally.

After glancing around out of the corner of my eyes, I ring the doorbell of Victor’s house.

However, the silence of the door makes my heart heavier and heavier, while the busy signal on the phone is just like a heavy bell hammering down on my heart all at once.

Victor’s disappearance is so sudden, where did he go? Or is he being secretly controlled by someone again?

I can only keep speculating for no reason, without any answers.

Suddenly, a vague sound of hurried footsteps can be heard from behind the door, which makes my unconsciously drooping head rise instantly.

MC: Victor, is that you?

The footsteps seem to slowly approach the door, finally stopping at the other end of the door.

Feeling somewhat strange, I lean over to the camera on the doorbell again.

MC: Victor? Are you at home?

Actually, this is a very dangerous behavior. There maybe some suspicious person inside the house.

But I have a kind of inexplicable feeling that the person across the door is Victor.

Suddenly, the door opens.

MC: Vic....

I step forward in surprise, and at the moment the door opens, something vaguely flashes before my eyes.

The room is silent, only the open door remains there completely empty, just as though no one has ever appeared here.

—

[CHANGES TO NARRATOR POV]

[Note]: This is a few moments before MC appeared in front of Victor’s house.

[Note]: The music in this scene is Victor’s S1 BGM, and this is an important information which will be needed for a reference later on.

[Note]: The Victor in this scene is Victor from the past i.e. S1 Victor; who had travelled to the future. This scene is reference to a scene from the past, not the present day or the present world i.e. before S2 timeline started.

As for the rest, I will explain at the end of this post about what’s happening; so not as to ruin the experience of reading with all the explanation. 🥺🤞

—

The broken clock hands fall to the ground as an immense repulsion erodes Victor’s nerves and willpower.

The consciousness of the whole world seems to be rejecting his existence, a heavy sense of oppression pressing against every bone and crevices of his body.

The pocket watch is truly incapable of bearing anymore pressure, but he still wants to try.

Victor doesn’t know exactly what time he has arrived at. The broken gears clink as he sits down on the floor.

Victor inspects the surrounding for a while, and finds that the image in front of him is incomparably familiar. He recognizes his home at a glance.

Before he can ponder more over it, the sound of doorbell ringing can be heard from the distance.

Victor turns his head, looking towards the door.

He blinks his eyes slowly, and lifts an incomparably heavy step to walk over there.

A violent rejection presses against his footsteps. Step by step, he walks with extreme difficulty. But his gaze remains fixated on the door all along– resolute and decisive.

MC: Victor, is that you?

The familiar voice passes through the iron door. Penetrating through the rumbling tinnitus, it falls into Victor’s ears, causing his eyes of being unable of refraining from blinking.

The forces of time has ruthlessly left traces across his body, with a gigantic black-hole hanging behind him.

Victor: [I BURST OUT IN TEARS and it never stopped throughout the chapter] Dummy. It’s me.

He doesn’t know if he has said these words aloud. He simply wants to walk over stubbornly.

An invisible black hand seems to reach out from the black-hole behind him, dragging his body in.

But he doesn’t care, he just purses his lips.

....and keeps moving forward.

....one more step.

His fingertips finally rest against the girl’s face on the monitor screen. She is wearing a strange hat and a mask, with a mysterious look on her face.

After pacing back and forth a few steps, her eyes widen and she moves closer.

She looks the same now. It’s as though she is no different than how she was when she smiled in his arms several days ago.

Victor: She really hasn’t changed....

His icy and numb finger pads brush against the screen. At this moment, he is actually a bit nervous, and subconsciously draws in a deep breath.

Finally, he raises his arm and presses down hard on the door knob——

In the next second, he finds himself sinking into a land of heavy darkness.

??: As I said before, it’s better if she doesn’t find out your existence there!

He is unable to see anything, only that familiar voice ringing in his ears.

??: You’ve broken the rules over and over again. And you will be punished.

??: Even if it’s not now, the corresponding price will be taken back from you in the future.

His bloody shirt makes a striking contrast to his exceptionally pale face. He leans against the wall, almost wanting to succumb to the dizziness.

Countless meteors are slowly falling from the sky, dazzling white lights illuminating the eternal night. The pocket watch in his hand has already completely lost its gloss of the ceramic glaze.

The girl’s approaching face still remains clear on his retinas.

If this actually is their future, then he will definitely remember this event——

Victor knows that although he doesn’t know where he is at this moment, but he will return.

Because she is here.

—

┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈

✧ [CH 25-4] ✧

[Note]: We are back to the present timeline (i.e. S2 world) from here onwards.

[Note]: The Victor in this scene, till the very end of this chapter, is S2 Victor.

[Note]: On the questions that may rise throughout, I will answer them at the end of this post.

Timestamp: 8:12

—

I look blankly at the completely empty room, somewhat not knowing what to do.

MC: [talking to herself]  I did hear the sound of footsteps just now, and the door was opened too....?

I press my hand against the door, and knock cautiously again.

MC: Victor, are you in there?

The only answer I receive is the silence of the air, carrying with it a subtle sense of strangeness.

Could this be some kind of conspiracy? To discover my existence and then lure me into a trap?

But that inexplicable feeling I had just now tells me, that person behind the door was Victor.

After giving it some thought, I shoot a glance towards the neatly arranged slippers. Then I close the door walking on tiptoes, put on the white slippers on the top of the shoe rack and walk in.

—

[Tidbits: This is a reference to Victor’s Job Date. When MC first came to Victor’s house in S1, he told her to use the white slippers on the top of the shoe rack. 🥺]

—

The living room is as empty as ever. I scan around the room and then head deeper. The bedroom, study, wine cellar, kitchen.... Victor is nowhere to be found.

Amid the quietude of the house, only the sound of my cautious strides remain.

For a split second, I feel that this moment is incomparably familiar in every case. A haggard and tired face emerges in my mind.

My eyes are somewhat sore. I knead them hard, follow my memory to that empty corridor and gently press the button on the side of the wall——

....a wooden staircase slowly descends.

MC: [talking to herself] There’s no way someone could open the door and run into the attic....

Even though I’m mumbling about this absurd speculation on my lips, I still can’t help but worry in my heart that he is out there, alone, doing something silly, somewhere I don’t know about.

I climb up slowly. The starlight and moonlight brushes lightly across the empty and small attic, leaving only the smears of tranquil dust.

I truly heave a sigh of relief.

—

[Tidbits: The incident MC is referring to here is S1 CH 18-18, Victor fixing the broken cup she made piece by piece throughout the night. ಥ‿ಥ ]

—

Even after searching in numerous places, I still don’t find anyone in the huge house.

MC: [mumbling] Where on earth has he gone....

I know that I’m being very silly right now. But I’m hundred percent sure that Victor was here just a moment ago, and I must find him.

MC: [mumbling] Could it be that there was some kind of strange dimension devouring, and it sucked Victor away?

?? (Victor): What nonsense are you talking about, coming into other people’s house in the middle of the night?

I jerk my head up, and see Victor standing in the living room where no one was just now, pursing his lips and looking at me with slightly furrowed brows.

MC: Victor?!

I run over to him somewhat in disbelief, completely unable to comprehend everything that’s been happening before me.

When I get closer, I find that his shirt is soaked through, and his well-groomed hair in normal times is now slightly damp from the thin layer of sweat on the top of his forehead.

Victor seems to pretend that his breathing is absolutely calm, but his slightly undulating chest stealthily betrays him.

This man looks just like he has run back from somewhere.

Victor: How long are you going to keep looking silly?

MC: ....I’m just a little puzzled. Where did you run off to after you opened the door for me just now?

Those pair of deep, inky eyes narrow imperceptibly. Victor takes off his suit-jacket and sits down on the sofa.

Victor: Where else could I run off to?

Even though he gives an answer, but he seems to have said nothing.

I stare at him suspiciously as I keep feeling that something is odd.

I don’t have Evol right now. Could it be that Victor secretly suspended the time? That’s why he could disappear without me noticing? But why would he do that?

Victor: In what wild imagination your mind has run off to again?

MC: I’m just wondering if you had just paused time, and then you disappeared in front of me to secretly do something.

Victor doesn’t say anything, watching me with a deep meaningful expression on his face.

Victor: After the door was opened, there was no one. So you directly came in just like that.

Victor: Weren’t you worried that there could be some problem?

MC: I just thought that if it were you who opened the door for me, there shouldn’t be any problem....

My voice falters more and more as I speak. Under his straight gaze, I suddenly feel somewhat nervous.

MC: Could it be.... did you just test my judgement? That was too scary!

Victor: It’s been quite a long while since I’ve supervised you. It seems that your power of observation and judgement have indeed decreased to some extent.

MC: It’s obviously because some people suddenly disappeared out of sight and I couldn’t get through his phone either....

Victor is slightly startled. He then glances aside, and picks up his phone with a black screen.

Victor: I just didn’t expect it to take longer than I thought it would.

Victor: Then the phone ran out of battery.

Victor clearly doesn’t intend to say too much. After I hear the extraneous words, I purse my lips and don’t ask any more questions.

Victor: After I came back, I originally planned on going to LFG.

I stare blankly for a moment, not expecting Victor to start talking again slowly.

MC: Then why did you come home?

He lifts his head, his gaze falling on me for a long time.

Victor: Cause I felt that a certain person would be here.

MC: ....?

Victor rarely says such ambiguous words. Hearing this, I’m really flabbergasted and can’t help blinking my eyes.

Victor: If you came to find me just for wanting to stand there in a silly daze, then you can go somewhere else.

MC: ....no no.

I wave my hand at him promptly, pondering over from where I’m going to start.

MC: Victor, do you know what’s been happening recently?

Victor: I’m waiting to hear it from you.

MC: Mysterious meteor shower, strange electromagnetic waves causing brain damage to ordinary people, Dionysus wanted me to release views in support of Evolvers at this time....

One by one, I break my fingers as I look at Victor, and find the crease between his eyebrows tightening slightly along with each of my keywords.

MC: Did you know all this?

Victor: Tell me.

MC: ....

....which deep mountains and old woods did this man run off to.

I look at him and draw in a deep breath. Then I sit next to him, and repeat all the recent events to him one by one in full details.

MC: I found the Lighthouse at the bottom of the sea, and learned that the starlight in the sky has nothing to do with the radiation affecting ordinary people at the moment.

MC: There must be someone who’s controlling all this from behind. But I don’t have any complete evidence.

Victor: You have any suspicions?

MC: I think NW, GR and Joker can be ruled out with high probability.

MC: What remains are completely unknown enemies, or....

Victor: The tricks of the extremist group of BS.

Victor takes my words completely naturally, leaning back on the sofa with his eyes closed, and a look of exhaustion on his face that’s somewhat difficult to conceal.

MC: And I’ve noticed something strange about the phone lately too.

I pick up my phone, and turn on the standby screen.

MC: I’ve found a strange black screen appearing and flickering twice. And what’s even more bizarre is that, each time it flickered, I’d get a headache.

MC: I suspect that.... perhaps it has something to do with this strange radiation too.

He nods slightly, not saying anything for a long time, as though he is sorting out the great amount of information I’ve just “poured” into his head.

After a few minutes, he slowly opens his eyes, looking at me with a slightly deeper meaningful glance.

Victor: How did you find the Lighthouse at the bottom of the sea?

MC: ....

I blink and avert my line of sight, pondering over how to tell him about the experience of nearly losing my life in the sea in a roundabout manner.

Victor: Do you think that I can’t hear the stories you’re making up?

MC: I went to meet Dionysus at the BS building. When I was leaving, the car was suddenly being controlled by someone, then I fell into the sea and accidentally found it.

I squeeze my eyes shut, and courageously say everything without taking a breath.

The world is extremely quiet, and there isn’t any reply for a very long time. I stealthily open my eyes halfway, only to find Victor sitting up straight, his brows creased tightly.

The oppressive silence makes me unable of refraining from shrinking my neck.

Victor: ....

He takes my arm in silence, and gently rolls up my sleeve. Seeing the bruises on my arm, he slowly lifts his head again.

Victor: [sighs softly] This is how you did things when I wasn’t around?

MC: ....I didn’t know this kind of thing would happen either.

With another soft and long sigh, Victor pulls down my sleeve gently and cautiously.

Victor: [sighs deeply] If I simply don’t keep an eye on you for a moment, you really will do something big.

MC: You’re not angry?

Victor: I’m not so devoid of sense as to blame the injured person.

Victor: You simply did what you should have done. No matter what you encounter, it shouldn’t be up to you to bear the consequences.

Victor’s eyes become a little bit more cold, and his slightly pursed, thin lips seem to be permeating cold air.

I smile and lean in front of him, reach out with my fingertips, and press them against the space between his tightly furrowed eyebrows, rubbing it away little by little.

MC: Don’t frown. It’s going to leave marks.

Victor is taken aback and gives me a somewhat distasteful look. Finally, the corners of his lips still perk up in a smile.

Victor: [softly] Why don’t you take more care of yourself.

With that said, he stands up and looks out the window at the meteors trailing across the sky as they leave behind starlight.

Victor: Since you were leaving from BS, then the person who attacked you should know your identity.

Victor: If I were you, I’d make the most of it.

Victor: Let Nox “die” temporarily.

—

┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈

✧ [CH 25-6] ✧

[Note]: In this part, Victor is in the BS conference room; and MC is at Victor’s house. She’s actually been staying here, it gets more formally acknowledged later on.

Timestamp: 15:05

—

A few days later, I’m sitting on the carpet, and looking at the projection in the living room as my fingers clench nervously.

Through the camera in the badge on Victor’s chest, one can clearly see people coming in one after the other and sitting in their corresponding seats behind the single-sided glass.

This is a bit of a rare meeting where almost no one is going to be absent.

The meeting hasn’t yet started. Victor is just sitting in his seat casually, so the entire image is somewhat offset in perspective.

MC: Victor, you are sitting a bit crooked. Please shift to the right.

Victor: ....

Although I can’t see his face right now, but I can completely imagine that disgusted look on Victor’s face.

The silence continues, but I notice that the image on the screen is moving slightly to the right.

MC: That’s right, that’s right. To the right, right, right....

MC: Victor, I feel like I’m instructing you to reverse the car.

A slight tremor appears on the screen, and I can’t help but pout either.

MC: Victor, I can see you are holding back your laughter. Must be very hard for you, sorry.

A hand appears near the screen, picks up a ballpoint pen that has been set aside, and drops a few bold letters in dark blue on the nearby document—

“Be quiet.”

Understanding the art of his strokes, I immediately shut my mouth, hug my knees and wait for the meeting to begin.

—

Victor’s voice is especially processed before it passes through the barrier; which actually fills the air with an oppressive and stern aura.

Everyone enters the conference room one by one and keeps chattering about random stuff. Just then, Victor’s warning on whether he needs to hold individual meetings for everyone gives them a fright LOL.

Timestamp: 16:50

—

Suddenly, a somewhat timid knock sounds on the door. With everyone’s attention fixed on him, a young man walks in.

The instant that youth reaches out to close the door, I can clearly see the intricate and unique body paint on his both hands——

They are exactly the same as the hands that suddenly appeared when I was driving that day.

—

[FLASHBACK BEGINS]

MC: Thanatos?

Looking at the information Victor has handed over, I pucker up my eyebrows somewhat in puzzlement.

In the photograph framed in the file, the thick body paint on the young man’s arms is almost identical to that on the hands I saw at the time.

Victor: His Evol is “remote manipulation”. Whether it’s the ability or the appearance, he fits perfectly.

MC: But I don’t know him at all. He has no reason for wanting to kill me, right....

Victor: Regarding this answer, let him reply to you himself.

[FLASHBACK ENDS]

—

??: Thanatos? What are you doing here?

Dionysus sits at the front of the conference room. The moment he sees the youth, a ruthless gleam flashes past his eyes.

Dionysus: Who allowed you to come in, get the....

Victor: I was the one who asked him to come.

The scene seems to have been brought to a standstill for an instant. Dionysus swallows down the rest of his words that he hasn’t finished speaking, and just squints his eyes slightly.

I rapidly zoom in, and look at that man’s hands——

The calloused finger pads, the old-fashioned wristwatch on the left hand, and the patterns of the body painting that can be hardly replicated.

MC: Victor, it’s him!

The finger placed on the desk slowly clicks. Obviously, Victor hasn’t even said anything, but I still inexplicably feel an icy nip in the air across the screen.

Victor: I asked him to come here because I’ve heard something.

Victor: Nox is dead.

Victor: You guys know that, don’t you?

On the screen, I can see Thanatos standing right in front of it. Hearing Victor’s words, the left side of his face twitches slightly.

He doesn’t say anything, just keeps his head down tenaciously.

Victor’s words aren’t emotional, but they seem to have solidified into a sharp, cold blade that is hanging around the neck of everyone in the conference room.

??: I’m so sorry to hear this news. What a pity~

Poseidon is wearing a white mask as always. His voice is brisk, seeming as though he is smiling but also seems like he is crying.

Poseidon: Poor girl, may she rest in peace.

MC: No, I’m fine. Thanks!

I grit my teeth as I look at the man on the screen, a look of indignation on my face.

Poseidon: However, I don’t think that such a trivial matter should be sufficient to hold a meeting of the main gods so grandiosely.

—

[Tidbits: If you notice, everyone’s code name at BS is after the gods from Greek mythology. MC’s code name “Nox” is also the name of a goddess from Greek mythology. “Poseidon” here is referring to the “Twelve” of BS as the “main gods”.]

—

Victor: I’m not least bit interested in condemnation here.

Victor: Rather, what I’m curious about is the content of the phone call Nox left me before she died.

At these words, everyone present in the room falls silent, filled with shock, wrath, tension, contempt and numerous other emotions.

The finger that has been gently tapping on the desk comes to a halt, opens the phone indifferently, presses several buttons, and then tosses it on the desk casually.

The only sound in the solemn room is the scraping and sliding of the metal case of the phone against the desk.

Electronic voice: You’ve received a voice mail. It will be played after the “beep” sound.

Electronic voice: “Beep”——

MC’s voicemail: “BOSS, it’s Nox. This is the last time I’d be calling you.”

The sound of tires rapidly scraping against the ground floods the room behind, and the girl’s unwavering words amid the whistling wind are set off in the entire conference room.

MC’s voicemail: “Someone has taken control of my car, probably someone with the ability of remote manipulation. It’s a man with calloused fingers and has body paints on both hands.”

MC’s voicemail: “I suspect, it’s Thanatos.”

As Thanatos hears this, his face suddenly turns deathly pale, and his hands, which are hanging at his sides, tremble somewhat unconsciously.

His face is filled with shock and disbelief, as though he is unable to comprehend why this call could have been made.

MC’s voicemail: “BOSS, you need to be careful. Perhaps, them killing me is just the beginning.”

MC’s voicemail: “Perhaps, there are more people who want to harm you, and want to betray you!”

The girl’s voice is full of worry, as though she isn’t afraid of being on the verge of facing death in the least.

MC’s voicemail: “My regret is that I cannot accompany you in the future to witness the human evolution together. But, my heart will always accompany your footsteps.”

—

[FLASHBACK BEGINS]

Even if you haven’t followed with the video so far, please please please you NEED to follow this part with the video.🥺🤧

Timestamp: 20:05

—

MC: But.... uh.... my.... my heart will always be “rooted” in your footsteps.

Victor: Don’t pinch your nose while speaking. Also, lack of emotions.

MC: MY HEART! WILL ALWAYS! ACCOMPANY YOUR FOOTSTEPS!

Victor: Emotions are too strong, too much exaggeration, like a stage play.

MC: But-my-heart-will-always-accompany-your-footsteps.

Victor: [sighs] ....I don’t remember I was talking to a robot.

I sit down on the sofa indignantly, and squeeze the paper with dialogues which have been crumpled a long time ago, continuously breathing hard and deep to keep myself sane.

MC: I’m not a professional voice actor anyway, so it’s very likely to be contrived.

Victor takes off his glasses from his face, and glances at the corners of my lips which are pouted in discontent, then his gaze finally lands on the paper with the dialogues that is in the hands of the two of us.

I don’t know what has come to his mind, but he leans over and takes the paper out of my hand.

MC: We don’t need to give up just like that....

Before I’ve even finished the sentence, I see him tossing the paper aside.

In the next second, my vision is completely blocked as a warm hand envelopes my eyes.

Victor: Although this will not be true at all.

Victor: But if this is the last time we chat.... if this is the last message you send me....

Victor: Would this be your tone of voice?

In the lightless world, Victor’s voice lands softly in my ears, making my heart clench instantly.

I seem to be seeing that scene from a very long time ago, when the city shone with dazzling neon beneath our feet, when I made my muffled promise into his arms.

....as everything before me at that moment dissipated a little.

I can’t help holding my breath.

—

[Tidbits: MC is referring to S1 CH 37 Victor Route 🥺]

—

Victor: What’s wrong?

He seems to have sensed my change. When he is just about to raise his hand, I immediately stretch out my both hands and pull him back, keeping that hand covering my eyes from beginning to end.

MC: I was thinking that, if I really called you for the last time, I wouldn’t be able to tell you this.

Victor: Then what would you say to me?

MC: I wouldn’t say anything.

Victor: [I can almost see him sulking LOL] ....so talkative in normal times, but now she is being stingy.

MC: Because I will definitely  not let it be our last call.

I squeeze that hand hard, feeling the slight movements of his fingertips.

MC: No matter what I encounter, I will try my utmost to survive.

To strive to fulfill that promise with you which I haven’t accomplished yet.

[FLASHBACK ENDS]

—

The voice on the phone isn’t lacking agitation, even though it’s still sincere enough.

Listening to the voice coming through the screen, I didn’t actually expect these words to come out so naturally.

Suddenly, the phone sitting at the side rings out and I pick it up in bewilderment. To my surprise, it turns out to be a voicemail.

Electronic voice: You have a message to reply to.

Electronic voice: “Beep”——

Victor’s voicemail: Don’t say those meaningless words.

Victor’s voicemail: Survive, and then return to my side.

—

┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈

✧ [CH 25-7] ✧

Victor’s voice lingers firmly in my heart. At this moment, I can’t see his face, nor am I able to be by his side as usual.

I can only grip my phone harder, watching the screen as the meeting continues, and I have to personally witness the final outcome of this plan.

Electronic voice: The message has finished playing. Press “1” to replay.

Victor: “Someone will betray me.”

Victor: After every one of you has heard this, what are your opinions?

The suffocating silence spreads in the conference room, sealing the mouths of everyone present.

Victor seems to smile. His body, which has been leaning against the back of the chair, leans forward, resting his weight on the desk, his chin propped up with one hand.

Victor: Thanatos, what do you think?

It’s as though a huge boulder has been pressed against Thanatos’s body, forcing him to tremble uncontrollably all over.

Thanatos: T-this is just the story on Nox’s side. Maybe she wanted to frame me.

 Thanatos is somewhat flustered, but he still manages to stop the shuddering.

Thanatos: In the absence of evidence on the situation, does the BOSS think that I did this merely relying on her phone call?  

The sound of soft laughter can be heard from behind the barrier, and the sound of soft fingertips slowly tapping on the desk resounds again and again.

Amid the quietude, this sound causes one to feel incomparably anxious.

Victor: Indeed.

Thanatos’s pupils slightly dilate, seemingly with a bit of excitement, but his delighted face collapses quickly as the screen on the side lits up in an instant.

That’s a copy of the in-car recorder footage.

As the girl in the footage is driving en route, a mysterious circle of light suddenly appears on the steering wheel, and inside the circle of light a pair of hands painted with body painting textures protrude.

It’s impossible to see the scene too clearly on the recorder. The girl struggles in panic but those hands grab her nonetheless.

Although she struggles free and makes a call, but she is unable to prevent the continuous acceleration of the car, until it breaks through the guardrail and plummets into the sea——

The footage stops at the instant when it’s overwhelmed with seawater.

Victor: Thanatos, you used your power on the spot.

Thanatos: This might also be a forgery!

Victor: Hence, rule out your suspicions first.

Thanatos: If I really had done it, Nox would never have the chance to call you....

Dionysus: Thanatos!

Dionysus stares fiercely at Thanatos, and stiffly turns his head shortly after that.

Dionysus: It seems that BOSS indeed is extremely fond of Nox.

Dionysus: Since the death of a pawn is worth holding a meeting, then let us accompany you in the “trial” as well.

Victor: You don’t have to be in such a rush to stand up for your people.

Victor: I will ask you directly when it’s needed.

Dionysus freezes in place with a livid face, and has no other choice but to glare tenaciously with his eyes, as though he wants to tear everything before him into shreds.

The rest of the people remain silent, and only a few watch the farce with exhilaration.

Victor: Nox was a chess piece, but you guys also have to recognize whose  chess piece she was.

Victor: Since the auction, you guys have been a little too  proactive. 

Victor’s words are as light as a feather, but they faintly reveal many warnings and scrutiny.

Victor: It seems that many people are calling me into questions to some extent.

As soon as this statement is spoken, the sound of a few sneers appears particularly distinct.

MC: [love of the life strikes HAHA~]  Victor, it was Dionysus and Hades who laughed!

His clasped fingers point to the “Be quiet” on the paper once again, muting me straight away.

??: You’re worrying too much.

Poseidon: That’s indeed quite dark and mysterious.

Dionysus: Shut up, Poseidon!

Dionysus sneers at the sly white face, finally casting his gaze towards the barrier.

Dionysus: If BOSS has such doubts, then why not inquire face-to-face.

Victor: Right.

The tense situation comes to a standstill for a split second. Dionysus is even a little frightened, only to have Victor changing the thread of the discussion at the end.

Victor: Evol can have much usefulness, and it’s very abundant as well. It can give many answers. I think everyone present here also acknowledges this power and believes it to be the direction that leads to the future of  mankind.

The picture rises abruptly as Victor stands up, overlooking everyone sitting beyond the barrier.

Victor: That’s all for today.

Victor: Thanatos, stay.

Victor: Do your superiors have any objections on this?

Dionysus reveals a vicious face instantly, but he seems to have understood thoroughly that he shouldn’t say anything more at this pint, and just spits out every single word through gritted teeth.

Dionysus: ....of course not.

Poseidon: Hehe, why does everyone has to make this so unpleasant. BOSS must have his own judgement and ideas.

The pure white mask sways, Poseidon stands up and raises his hand in an exaggerated manner.

Poseidon: Everyone has secrets and also has embarrassing troublesome matters, and perhaps they are guarding a sincere and tender heart behind these. Even if Thanatos did do such a thing, there must have been some reason for it. I sincerely hope that BOSS can find this answer.

He grandiosely presses his left hand against his chest, bows to the barrier and then prepares to walk towards to the door.

Thanatos has been keeping his head down all along, and doesn’t look at anyone. But the moment Poseidon is about to pass him by, his body starts shaking violently.

Thanatos: It’s true.... it was me who did it.

In the next instant, a hiss of pain escapes his mouth——

Akin to a scrap paper being thrown away, his body falls to the ground.

—

┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈

✧ [CH 25-9] ✧

MC runs to the kitchen to pour herself a cup of tea.

Since the news of Thanatos committing suicide, she’s been feeling uneasy; not because the truth has been silenced along with him, even more so thinking how little value people place on their lives, using it as the cheapest bargaining chip. :'(

Timestamp: 27:57

—

NW is like this, GR is like this, Joker is like this.... and so is BS.

I close my wearily, and that image of Victor lying in the pile of rubbles appears in my mind once again.

Would this simply be my unprovoked delusion?

Or is it.... will this be the future?

But haven’t I lost that power this time?

I don’t know when, but the warm tea in my hand has turned cold. I lower my head in defeat, staring blankly at the light bending over the edge of the teacup as it creates a faint rim of light.

My brain is full of all kinds of confusing information, but I can’t seem to think of anything else.

?? (Victor): In which wild imagination your mind has run off to?

Beneath the soft light, Victor leans against the side of the kitchen door with both hands crossed over his chest, looking at me with a serene expression.

The house is extremely quiet. Looking at the person in front of me, I slightly clench the teacup, and I don’t know why I blurt out this sentence naturally.

MC: Victor, can you lose?

The endless future seems even darker than I imagined. The invisible ghastly faces lurk in the dark, and they’d reveal their fangs at the drop of a hat.

As though it’s now a contest of who is more heartless, who can drop the bargaining chip without any qualm in the least.

Only by doing so will we be able to claim the victory at the highest stage.

Victor: Why would I lose?

He doesn’t complain about my silly question, nor does he question why I am asking him.

It’s only that, he doesn’t raise his eyebrows and answers me indifferently, as though this is just a simple question like, “what are we going to eat tomorrow morning?”

I gaze at him quietly, and perk up in a smile with reluctance.

Indeed, Victor can’t lose. Regardless of what happens, he can always find his methods.

I ought to have faith in Victor.

But I still can’t stop worrying.... worrying that the image will truly turn into reality, even if it’s simply a nightmare for no reason at all.

At this moment, however, perhaps this worry is not worth wasting his time.

Victor still has an awful lot of things to handle– Thanatos’s death, and this radiation that possibly has something to do with BS.

MC: Did I just ask a silly question?

Victor: Since you know, then don’t ask.

Victor lowers his head and looks at me, unfamiliar emotions flashing through his eyes. Finally, he tilts his head and walks in to pour himself a cup of tea as well.

Victor: It’s certain that there were other people behind Thanatos.

Victor: You stay here for the time being, otherwise the matter of Nox’s death will be overthrown.

Victor: The guest room has been tidied up for you.

MC: Alright. I’m off to bed then. Goodnight, Victor.

Holding my cup of tea, I nod at Victor in a cute manner, then turn around and run back to the room.

As I close the door behind me, I breathe a soft sigh of relief. My whole brain is incomparably awake, and I don’t feel sleepy in the slightest.

The starlight outside the window twinkles. I don’t turn on the light. I just sit on the rug hugging a pillow, feeling a deep sense of powerlessness.

I casually open Weibo and find that there has been no victim of brain damage for several consecutive days due to the operations of the STF.

However, the articles published by the Infinite team still continue to ferment.

People are panic-stricken, worrying about the day when the sudden and eerie radiation descends again.

I close Weibo. Looking at the calm standby screen, I think about that flickering black screen.

It doesn’t seem to appear at a fixed time or at some fixed frequency. But each time it appears, I will see certain strange images.

Perhaps I should wait for that flickering black screen to confirm those suspicions.

Suddenly, the door is pushed open, a faint aroma of milk transmitting to my nasal cavities. I lift my eyes, and find Victor walking in with a glass of hot milk.

He looks around in the dark room but doesn’t say anything, simply pries open my hand and takes away the long cold cup of tea, stuffing the hot milk into my palm.

In an instant, the warmth and the real temperature pass through my fingertips, seeping into my entire body.

Immediately afterwards, he takes out a small chubby night lamp from somewhere, and sits down next to me.

Amid the dimness, it’s the only little point of soft light, but it completely bundles up the both of us in it.

MC: Why are you....?

Victor: I forgot to say goodnight.

Holding the glass of hot milk, I quietly turn my head to look at his side profile, and find that he is just sitting there in silence, not speaking at all.

MC: Victor?

Victor: What is it?

MC: Didn’t you.... come here to say goodnight?

Victor: Yes, but not now.

Victor stops talking again. I purse my lips, not knowing what to say.

The room returns to the quietude once more. I lower my head and sip the warm milk, while Victor stares down at the neon lights outside the window, neither one of us speaking.

Finally, I’m unable to hold myself back any longer.

MC: Victor, I actually had a nightmare.

Victor grunts softly in response, motioning for me to continue.

MC: I don’t know if it’s the effect of that phone screen....

I take a deep breath, and place my face next to the hot milk, trying to draw in a bit more temperature.

MC: I dreamt that.... you were lying in the pile of rubbles and suffered very heavy injuries.

MC: I should have faith in you, because you can resolve anything using your methods.

MC: But I’m still very scared.

It has nothing to do with whether or not I have faith in Victor. I simply worry about him.

The atmosphere turns a bit heavy for a while. As I’m hesitating to remind him of something else, the milk is suddenly withdrawn from my hand and put aside.

MC: I haven’t finished drinking yet....

Victor: The warm milk was for you to get a good night’s sleep, not for letting your imagination run wild.

MC: I just don’t know how I should annihilate these wild imaginations, that’s why I’m indulging in flights of fancy here....

Hearing my “tongue twister”, Victor sighs and releases a laugh.

Victor: Next time, come and ask me sooner.

He takes my hand, and lays me down on the soft rug. Even though I don’t know what he is going to do, I simply keep my gaze fixed on him.

Victor: [soft laugh] Eyes too wide.

The corners of his lips perk up in a soft smile. As though to appease me, he runs his fingers gently across my forehead, again and again.

MC: Wasn’t I waiting for your method.

As soon as the words leave my mouth, Victor lays down together with me, leaning behind my body.

My back is enveloped with the familiar temperature, and a hand closes around my side, replenishing the warmth that has been removed from my fingertips.

His chin rests gently on the top of my head, and his steady heartbeat transmits from behind me little by little, slowly unifying with mine as they play the same rhythm.

The light of the small night lamp drapes over our body quietly and gently. I can’t see Victor at this moment, but I feel the whole world softening into a soft cloud.

Victor: You could have a little more faith in me.

His voice is exceptionally soft, different from the times in the past, with a bit of helplessness as well as earnestness.

Victor: That will not be the future.

Victor: Only on this one, I can assure you.

His other hand comes up, his fingertips slightly curling around the strands of my hair that are hanging on the rug, twirling them around absent-mindedly.

His words fall into my ears, as light as feathers. It’s as though this is just quietly leaning against the ear right before going to sleep, accompanied by the intimate whispers of goodnight.

Like a blessing, but also like a vow.

MC: Is that because you’ve seen that future?

Victor: There is no need to see it.

Victor: I can tell you straight away. That definitely won’t be the future.

He slowly tightens his arms, caging me in a world named “Victor”.

Victor: Trust me.

Perhaps it’s because the embrace that is too tender, or the warm milk has taken effect, I slowly close my eyes.

—

At the last moment when my vision plunges into darkness, I seem to see my phone screen flickering.

I know I’m dreaming.

I try hard to catch my breath, but I find that my whole body is unable of exerting any strength, the feeling of oppression suffocating me as though trying to snatch away all my willpower.

Some liquid slides down my forehead, and drips onto my eyes, making me blink subconsciously.

The image before my eyes is somewhat fuzzy, mixed with glaring red. The ruins of the building drizzle down like light rain, pouring out a cloud of smoke and dust.

Victor is lying under a huge boulder, with blood-colored flowers spreading beneath his body.

It is the same image as the last time.

A sense of powerlessness and despair pours into the depths of me, dust rises in the air, and the sound of footsteps trampling over the fragments of ruins can be heard in the distance.

MC: ....who is it?

A man, whose face I’m unable to see clearly, passes by Victor’s body, simply glances at it casually, and then walks over to me.

I strive to open my eyes, but my strength seems to have been drained to the utmost.

That man seems to be talking, but I’m unable to hear his voice clearly.

—

✧ PART 2: HERE!

—

┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈

✧ [NOTES] ✧

From what I’ve seen over the past few days, CH [25-2] seems to have given birth to some confusion; it’s mainly because the players have either read the story first or the plot review first, but they’re actually complementary. So, I’ll try to clear up the confusion with the existing information the writers have given us so far (this is applicable unless the writers change or add more details in the future):

It’s VERY, VERY, VERY important to read Victor’s R&S “Ever-changing” ; CH 37-5 ; and the ending of S2 CH 2-15 where MC meets a little boy.

These contents give us the information about S2 world.

— The little boy MC meets in S2 CH 2-15, is the same boy in Victor’s R&S who told him that he shouldn’t be seen by the future MC, and there can never be two versions of same person in one dimension.

— The R&S explains how Victor had been trying to leave clues for future S2 MC AND his future S2 self i.e. S2 CH 4 and “Meeting in the past date.” He also introduced himself as “Victor from the past.” It also explains his hopes on their “future life” after MC stops the meteor from hitting the earth. From Victor, we get the confirmation that he knows he won’t remember MC in the S2 world, it was hinted in another one of his R&S too. So he’s trying his utmost to make it as smooth as it can be made. This R&S takes place after MC bids farewell to him and before MC returns as her 5 year old self at the orphanage in the prologue.

— In CH 37-5, that mysterious person who welcomes MC tells him clearly that the world MC is opening is completely new trajectory from any of the ones before.

— In CH 2-15, that little boy tells MC that everyone in this new world is the same as her i.e. they have all returned to 17 years before with her, but in the future; because time always moves forward. The difference between MC and everyone else is, they didn’t keep their memories. This is the answer that MC needs to find.

•• CONCLUSION•• S1 Victor DID NOT travel to the S2 timeline now. He opened the door for MC in CH 25 in between S1 CH 37 and S2 Prologue; like he left those messages for her and himself.

As the official plot review of S2 CH 22-25 clearly states that it was Victor from the past (S1 Victor) who opened the door for MC; but that’s it.

The reason it backfired on him in greater amount more than the instances mentioned in the R&S while sending the messages; is that, he was changing the outcomes over and over again, and this time he was almost on the verge of being discovered by MC. But we see him telling himself that “he will remember this event i.e. the ending of CH 25”; even though that’s purely his determination talking. Whether he did something more to leave more clues, we will have to wait for the next update. :'(

As the mysterious voice tells Victor that “he will pay the price, if not now, then in the future”; which brings us to the ending of CH 25. His future self (S2 Victor) makes THE SAME choice as his past self (S1 Victor) would do. Because it’s ALL him~ 🤧

———

Now, I want to share a little information on S2 CH 22-25 R&S [ @ey8508​ has translated it HERE ]:

— This R&S takes place in between S2 CH 10- CH 16. When Victor went to visit Grandpa Chuck, he tells Grandpa Chuck that the strange memories he sees (his S1 memories) are becoming more and more frequent than before. It also mentions that in those memories MC is the most frequent existence, i.e. he is remembering more and more things regarding MC, he just doesn’t understand why he can’t remember actually doing these things himself. Then Grandpa Chuck tells Victor about the “Time Observers” and that he will meet them soon.

— In CH 17, we see Victor shuttling through past and future. Although it was for NW’s purpose, but he already had a frame in his mind on what he needs to do.

— In CH 18, as soon as he gets out, he meets up with the Time Observer.

— During CH 22-24, MC was unable to reach Victor. And after he returned, there was subtle change in his behaviors, as well as he was in pain which he was trying to hide. So the next R&S and the chapter should be giving us details on what he saw during his time with the Time Observer and exactly how much he remembered when he came back.

— Just a little heads up, the ending of CH 25 makes it clear that S2 Victor very likely remembered the incident of his past self (i.e. S1 Victor) getting the warning that “he will pay the price in the future” as a distant voice reached his ears. That’s why he replies with “I have no regrets.”

The upcoming chapter and R&S updates should be giving us more details on his planning on handling entire S2 CH 25. Let’s wait till then! 🥺

————

Now onto to a sad little detail, and the preparation for Part 2 of CH 25..... Brace yourselves. ಥ‿ಥ

This happened two weeks back, when I was talking on discord about what “red poppies” symbolize in Victor’s “Garden Date”.

And the CH 22-25 Karmas dropped just a few days later.....

I SWEAR I DIDN’T——— 😭✊🤧

.

.

—

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

please please a part 2 of that gamer!geralt au, them doing something like Q&A

Nonie, I hope you know what you signed up for. This got out of hand lmao. like 2.4k of Q&A kind of out of hand. 

Warnings: swearing, talk of drinking to excess, kinda spicy questions, lil kisses, idk how but I meant for this to be goofy and horny and it got kinda soft? what’s new?

____________

“Holy shit,” Geralt sat staring at his phone as he mindlessly stirred pasta.

“I swear to god, if you found a way to burn noodles-” Jaskier turned away from the blender to wave a wooden spoon covered in pesto puree.

Geralt shook his head and held his phone up to him, scrolling through the replies to a tweet as he did, going on for ages as Jaskier’s jaw slowly got closer to the floor.

“What are those for?!”

“I put up a poll for a boyfriend Q&A or a game review and not a single person has voted for the game review.” Geralt was still scrolling through questions people wanted answered as he watched Jaskier’s face go from shock to confusion to a smug grin. 

“They love me,” he sang, kicking his heel up as he turned back to the pasta sauce.

Geralt rolled his eyes and started screenshotting some of the less invasive questions, shaking his head and muttering, “Course they do.”

-

Geralt pressed record, waited a moment, and heaved a dramatic, long-suffering sigh, “You guys literally didn’t even give me a choice on this one,” he reached off frame and scruffed Jaskier, plopping him down on the couch with him. 

Jaskier didn’t stay where he was put for even a moment, using his momentum to bounce up onto Geralt’s lap with a shit-eating grin, “Oh? Are we rolling?”

Geralt dropped his forehead to Jaskier’s shoulder, stifling a laugh, “This is gonna be a long one.”

“Yeah, it is,” Jask agreed, then turned to the camera, stroking Geralt’s hair, “My fans want more!”

“OH-kay,” Geralt manhandled Jaskier to sit next to him which earned him a pout and a leg draped over his lap as he continued his intro, “I’ve got a bunch of questions from twitter. I didn’t even have to confirm which video we would do, you guys just went straight for the kill. I picked a few, Jask picked a few, neither of us knows which ones the other picked.” he turned to see Jaskier wiggle his eyebrows at the camera, “Why am I thinking you picked the raunchy ones?”

The brunet pretended to be offended before he smirked, “Only a few.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Of course,” he nudged Jask with his shoulder and opened up his phone to his screenshots, “Okay! First up is AdamSandlersBitch, nice name. They asked what Jaskier’s favorite gaming console and game to play is.” he turned to Jaksier with raised eyebrows.

His boyfriend cringed, “My.. my phone? I don’t know? I play a lot of Candy Crush while I listen to podcasts?”

Geralt smiled sweetly, “Wait what about Stardew Valley? I thought you started that?”

“I did!” Jaskier brightened up for a moment before he deflated again, “But I got confused and then the ADHD made me bake cookies.”

“Those were good cookies. I’ll play with you if you want?” Geralt’s normal ‘streamer dude’ persona melted away while he played with the rips on Jaskier’s jeans. 

Jask leaned forward and kissed his temple, “I’d love that.” 

Geralt blushed, even after years, Jaskier’s affection still caught him off guard. 

“Mkay! My turn!” Jaskier flashed his devilish grin and read, in his most obnoxious voice, “Dwn2Clwn said ‘do you two live together? Have you said ‘i love you’? And who tops?’”

Geralt’s mouth twisted into an upside-down U as he stared at Jaskier in muted surprise, “Honestly, not as bad as I expected.”

Jaskier looped his arm around Geralt’s, “I’m starting off easy.”

Geralt let his mock-disapproving gaze linger just a bit before he answered, “The living together is kind of new-like a few months. This one said ‘I love you’ on, what? The fourth date? Fifth?”

“Fourth.”

“No, it was the fifth, Eskel locked himself out on the fourth. Remember?”

“Shit you’re right,” Jaskier gave the camera a stern look, “In my defense, we’d been friends for a good four years before this. I wasn’t just confessing my love to a tinder date - though I have done that before.”

Geralt nodded, “That was very amusing.”

Jaskier tapped his nose, “Don’t avoid the last part, darling.”

Geralt huffed and stared down the camera, and, in the most matter of fact tone possible, said, “We switch. Compromise, folks. Can’t have one person doing all the work all the time.”

Jaskier nodded sagely, patting Geralt's chest, “We got a pow-”

Geralt clamped his hand over Jaskier’s mouth, 100% sure he was going to say ‘power bottom pillow princess’, “Nope. I’ll get demonetized for that.”

“But not who tops?” Jaskier asked through Geralt’s fingers.

He just shrugged, “I don’t make the rules.”

Jaskier tapped his phone and raised his eyebrows, telling him to move to the next question. 

“Mis- Mischanication? Shit I hope I said that right, Mischanication asked, ‘would you ever get a pet together?’ We did! Her name is Roach and she’s a little shit! I told Jaskier not to feed her, but he did, now we have the snuggliest, crankiest cat I’ve ever met!” 

Jaskier had gotten up to pluck Roach from her perch on the windowsill when Geralt had read the question and plopped down with her as Geralt finished his proud speech, “She’s not a little shit! She’s just delicate! Isn’t that right, darling?”

Geralt scratched under her chin and cooed, “You are a nasty little dragon baby, aren't you?! Just a little garbage child! Yes, you are. We love the tiny demon beast.”

“Geralt!”

He snickered and kissed Jaskier’s hair, “Next question, love.”

Jaskier grumbled something about positive reinforcement as Roach scampered back to her cat tree and he unlocked his phone for his next tweet, “This darling wants to remain anonymous,” Geralt gave him some serious side-eye at that, “they said ‘I think I’m in love with the flower twink, where can I find one of my own?’”

Geralt frowned at the camera and pulled Jaskier onto his lap, holding him close and snuggling into his chest, almost growling, “Hands off.”

Jaskier giggled, brushing Geralt’s hair out of his face as he talked to the camera, “You heard the man. Unfortunately, I was not mass-produced and I’ve been spoken for.”

Geralt looked up at him with what could only be called suspicious puppy eyes, “You picked that one just to sit in my lap didn’t you?”

“Yes. And because I want to change my socials to ‘flower twink’.” 

“Do it,” Geralt kept Jaskier on his lap as he swiped to his next question, “Eggsfuckingsuck - heh, my dad hates eggs- Eggsfuckingsuck says, ‘what is the most embarrassing thing you’ve caught each other doing/saying?’ Oh boy, do I have a story for you!”

"Oh I couldn't say the thing but you can tell this story!?" 

"...you have a point... Check my insta stories. I'll put it there after I post this." 

Jaskier nodded, ever so pleased, and turned to the camera, "Our dear Yennefer of sorceryglammour once beat Geralt at trivia night when the theme was 'video games'." 

“We did shots before we went to the bar and she goaded me and Lambert into a chugging competition before the round started. I’m telling you, she planned this. Yen is ruthless.” Geralt desperately tried to justify his defeat but Jaskier was having none of it. 

“She’s mostly harmless, plus I have video evidence from that night. You weren’t that far gone.”

“Pull it up! Let’s settle it.”

Jaskier patted Geralt’s head like one would a toddler, “I’d have to get my old laptop out. Later, darling.”

Geralt had a smug look on his face, “That means he doesn’t have it anymore.”

“Next question!” Jaskier squeaked, not at all changing the subject. 

Geralt shrugged, “If you admit I won that one.”

“It’s not a competition!” Jaskier laughed, looking down at him with that stupidly smitten look on his face.

“Hmmm…” Geralt tilted his chin up defiantly, “if you say so.”

Jaskier kissed him, lingering a little bit more than could be considered chaste, “I do.” 

Geralt looked up at him, batting his eyelashes, “Fine then, next question.”

Jaskier handed him his phone and he read it off leaning his head on Jaskier’s shoulder, “CountryBumpkin42 asked if we play any instruments. I play the recorder very poorly, but Jask plays everything.”

“Not everything, but yes, I could cover a Trans Siberian Orchestra song if I had a pedalboard with enough loop settings.” Jaskier preened. 

“And more,” Geralt added, counting on his fingers as he spoke, “In this house alone he has two pianos, three different types of guitars, a drumset, a violin and fiddle, a flute and piccilo, an oboe, a mandolin, a lute, bongos, saxophone, clarinet, tambourine, trumpet, and xylophone. Did I get them all?”

Jaskier glanced from side to side with a guilty look, “Ah… no, I bought a bass sax that showed up last night.”

“Oh, did Thursday at 3 decide they wanted to switch after all?”

“Yeah! She got the third chair as a freshman on a loaner instrument! I’m very proud!”

Geralt seemed to remember they were recording and turned back to the camera, “J teaches music at the university and does private lessons.” 

“It’s how I can afford such a pretty trophy boyfriend,” Jaskier teased, ruffling Geralt’s hair and earning a little chuckle.

“Mkay, what do you have next?”

Jaskier smoothed Gearalt’s hair back down as he read the next question, “3R4108F6!J asks if we have any cute nicknames for each other.”

Geralt’s eyebrows nearly flew past his hairline, “J has a new one for me almost every day.”

“Its true,” Jaskier nodded, “I am a slut for cute nicknames. This morning was Ger Bear, one of my faves. I called him Thumbs for a bit, I lovingly call him Dumb Fuck rather often.”

“And he is Dip Shit, it’s balanced. I usually just shorten names? Jask or J is usually it, right?” Geralt asked, shifting so Jaskier was sitting on the couch between his legs and they were both turned out toward the camera but very much still cuddling. 

“And when I’m being childish I get Alfie. But Geralt is much more deliberate and specific with his nicknames. It’s a bit of a friendship level up when he uses nicknames.”

Geralt frowned at him, “I do that?”

Jaskier giggled, “You never noticed?”

He tilted his head, giving Jaskier a quizzical look, “Not at all.”

Jaskier cupped Geralt’s cheek, “You’re so cute.”

Geralt blushed again, leaning into the touch just a tad, “Who’s turn is it?”

“Yours,” Jaskier hummed, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. 

“Okay,” Geralt blushed even more, “I had this one as an alternate, but uh, Yen asked what we’d name our first kid?” 

Jaskier leaned into Geralt’s shoulder and hummed as he thought for a moment, “I always like Blake or Spencer, but I seem to remember you saying something about old world traditional names?”

Geralt nodded, absentmindedly running his fingers up and down Jaskier’s arm, “My grandma was hoping each of us boys would be a girl and wanted mum to name us Cirilla every time. I quite like it, but I’m rather open as long as I don’t know someone with the name. I really like Eric?” 

“Oo, I like Eric.”

“But you like the neutral names.”

“I do, but it’s your hypothetical kiddo too.”

Geralt gave him a little squeeze, “There’s time for that later. What’s your next one?”

Jaskier snorted when he looked at his phone, “What are your guys’ love languages?”

Geralt just looked down at Jask, completely entangled in his arms, then up to the camera, “I’m gonna hazard a guess at physical touch.” 

“Yeah, I think that’s a safe bet,” Jaskier giggled, “I haven’t taken the quiz in years, but I was that and gifts.”

“Oh, yeah. Physical touch and words of affirmation. I got like a 0 on acts of service and gifts, but I really like giving gifts.” 

“Mhm, yes you do,” Jaksier wiggled his eyebrows, then turned to the camera, “I also had no idea you could have different giving and receiving languages till I met this one.”

Geralt nodded then turned to him with a slight frown, “you know I really thought your questions were going to be more graphic.”

“Oh, honey I saved the best for last,” Jaskier winked. 

“Fuck me,” Geralt grumbled before reading off his last question, “Cali852 asked what we did for Pride.”

Jaskier’s eyes lit up, “Oh Pride was fun. We watched the parade, of course, then Yen did our makeup and… and where did we go after that?”

Geralt looked like he’d been waiting for this, “We went to a club, where you ordered three kamakazis, knocked them all back, danced for twenty minutes, then I took you home.”

“N-no… we went to the beach, didn’t we?”

“That was the year before. We were going to go to the drag show at our regular bar too, but someone had just finished grading finals and went a little too hard.” 

Jaskier grinned, “Speaking of finals, time for the last question. I had a different one in mind but if the thing I cant say from earlier would get this demonetized then that defintitelyi would. So we’re going with ‘what is the wackest placy y’all banged?’”

Geralt snorted, “Shit who knows anymore?”

“Well there was the boat?”

“Or the train?”

“Nah, too standard. What about the cabin?”

“Heh, no I think your o-”

“I don’t have tenure darling,” It was Jaskier’s turn to slap his hands over Geralt’s mouth, “The answer is a dilapidated structure my parents still try to call a cabin out in the foothills.”

Geralt laughed and pulled his hand away, “Okay, that can be the answer.”

“Is that it? Now we just say bye?” Jaskier looked between Geralt and the camera.

Geralt shrugged, “Yeah. You wanna say the thing?”

Jaskier wiggled with a little pride and excitement, “Don’t forget to like and subscribe! Bye Fuckers!”

They both waved for a couple seconds before Geralt got up and turned the camera off. He popped out the memory card and was going to immediately start loading it onto his computer but Jask hooked his finger through a belt loop as he walked past and tugged him back down. 

“I’m tired. Snuggle with me.” 

Geralt hummed, “We just snuggled that whole time.”

Jaskier heaved a dramatic sigh, “I know and this is exhausting. I don’t know how you talk to a camera all day.”

Geralt stretched to set the chip on top of his laptop before collapsing back on top of Jaskier who had stretched the length of the couch, “Are you making fun of me?” he teased. 

Jaskier cupped his face between his hands and pulled him up for a deep kiss, “Oh never.” 

[beetlegoose01]

Frostbite (Casetello)

AN: do these two have a ship name? Caseytello? eh whatever it’s casey x donnie and they’re gay

special thanks to cal for reading this for me and saying i should post it <3

There were quite a lot of things Casey Jones loved. Hockey, pizza, riding his motorcycle, video games, beating the crap out of his opponents. Normal teenage stuff. Lately he had been doing the latter, ever since he and April officially joined the 'Unofficial Turtles Team' , helping alongside the teen mutants on patrol. Goofing off with Mikey and Raph were the highlights, but he couldn't deny spending extra time with April was also a benefit. Even if they barely got a single word out- too busy fighting off random mutants scattering the city, it was still nice.

But what wasn't nice, downright unpleasant about patrol...was Donatello. There was an unspoken, mutual loathing that the pair shared that even quick glances at each other led to glaring and arguing. Leaving them together in the same room was never a good idea. Casey hasn't understood why the purple genius was so hostile towards him at first. But the reasons became obvious the first time he caught him staring helplessly at April, fumbling his words and blushing profusely. Not that Casey didn't feel similarly, heck, that was the problem. Both were attracted to April. Obviously Casey had the upper hand, being human. A turtle and a human girl in a relationship was built for disaster.

But their hatred didn't stop there. It wasn't just about April.  Eventually, everything about Donatello annoyed him. His whiny voice, his love for using complicated words to sound superior, soon every little thing bugged him.

Things were easier if the two stayed as far apart as possible.

Of course, fate seemed to work in mysterious ways.

It was starting to get late, the moonlight illuminating the sky. The group stopped on a rooftop, perched by the edge. Leo halted them silently, then turned around.

"Why'd you stop, Fearless?" Raph asked.

"I think we should split up. We'll cover more ground. If you see any sign of trouble, use your T-Phones." said Leo.

"No way dudes!" Mikey squeaked. "I saw this scary movie last night where the team split up! And then..." He paused for dramatic effect. "They all got taken out one by one. Starting with the cute funny one!" He trembled, hiding behind Donnie, who rolled his eyes.

Raph smirked, always prepared for a sassy remark. "Which means, you'll be just fine since you're neither of those."

"Hey!"

"And you'll be in pairs." Leo crossed his arms. "I've got it all planned out. Raph and April. Mikey and me."

"Mikey and I." Donnie corrected under his breath. Casey fought the urge to whack the smart aleck turtle with his hockey stick.

Leo ignored him. "Donnie and Casey-"

Casey involuntary let out a loud groan. Just his luck.

Leo narrowed his blue eyes, unamused. "Something wrong, Jones?"

"Er..." His eyes darted to Donatello, who seemed stoic, but equally frustrated with this predicament. On one hand, he wanted to argue and beg to be with literally anyone else. On the other, he didn't want to deal with the leader in blue getting annoyed with him.  "Nah Leo, that's fine by me. Right, D?"

Donnie huffed. "Yeah, that's alright."

"I think this will be good for you both." April grinned.

"Of course, April." Donnie agreed.

"No problem at all." Casey smiled through gritted teeth. When she turned away, they both shared an equally menacing glare.

"I knew I could count on you two." April smiled softly, though even she didn't look entirely convinced.

This was going to be a long night.

~•~

Turns out, Casey had underestimated the scrawny (ugh, svelte) turtle. In what Donnie lacked in muscle, he gained with his speed, mobility and of course, his mind. It was practically impossible to keep up once Donatello had leaped from the first building, tumbling and landing with ease, while Casey was coughing his lungs out as he ran desperately after the brainy terrapin.

"Okay, now you're just showing off." He panted irritably, nearly collapsing once he finally caught up with him.

"Are you coming or not?" Donnie gave his trademark gap tooth grin as he turned, slowing down.

"I am! You're just moving too fast!" Casey complained. "I thought turtles were supposed to be slow! I didn't even have time to get my grappling hook."

Donnie shrugged, ending the conversation with one simple movement.

They walked side by side, neither wanting to say anything. They both knew it would only end in arguing.

"Can I just say-" Casey started.

"No, you can't."

"I didn't say anything!"

"Exactly."

"Listen, Gap Tooth, I don't like this either!" He flicked a stone off the roof with his shoe. "But we have to ..." He swallowed. "work together, right?"

Donnie said nothing. He looked deep in thought.

"Is it because of April? Because it's not my fault she...y'know likes me more."

At the mention of April, Donnie turned away, eyes flashed with hurt, which only filled Casey with that annoying feeling of guilt.

"It isn't about her."

"Alright." Silence. "Sorry, let's just-" He cleared his throat. "Let's just work together, we don't need to be friends. Just get through the mission. After that, we can go back to hating each other."

"That was...surprisingly mature, Jones. Glad we can agree on something." Donnie quipped. "And for once, you're right. This mission is more important than our petty squabbles. No matter how insufferable you may be."

"Now you're just making up words."

Donnie fought the urge to roll his eyes. "So, that's two more hours of this."

Casey scoffed, but couldn't help but chuckle. Quietly of course. Last thing he wanted was for Donnie to think he was actually amusing.

"So...deal?"

"Deal." Donnie said, then added: "Cave Mouth." Which made Casey shove him lightly.

For a brief moment, they seemed to share a mutual understanding. The silence that followed wasn't awkward or forced, it was comfortable. Well, as comfortable as they could possibly be.

Donnie paused, startled by something. Lifting his bō carefully, he tried to follow whatever the sound was.

"What the-" Casey raised an eyebrow.

"Shh!" He hissed. "Do you hear that?"

"No?" Casey scrunched his nose, listening closely. It sounded like a...buzzing noise? Like a fly or mosquito. Irritating, but not dangerous. "Chill Don, it's just a bug or something."

"No, listen!" The turtle looked frantic and alert.

The buzzing became louder. Then, it was followed by the sound of snapping wood. Deliberate and exact. Casey gulped, taking his own weapon.

A massive shadow flew over their heads and landed in front of them. Donnie yelped in surprise, stumbling forward.

"Ah, shell." He swore, lifting his head to face the hideous insectoid mutant with acid green eyes. Scumbug spread his deformed wings, antenayes raised, prepared to strike.

"Well, I was right. That definitely is a bug. Scumbug! Wicked! This'll be fun!" Casey sneered.

"Which makes no sense, considering stag beetles aren't even bugs! They're insects!" Donnie spun his staff like a propeller, hitting the mutant face on.

"Not the time!" Casey tackled Scumbug, who roared, jostling him aside like a ragdoll. He smacked the floor with a sickening thud, directly on his arm. He fought back a scream of agony.  "Do you- gah- seriously have to be such a know it all, all the time?" He looked at his arm, which currently looked seriously messed up.

Donnie looked affronted. "I am not a know it all!"

"Yes you are!" Another whack of his trusty hockey stick, followed by a knock to the ground, face first. He wiped his mouth from the metallic taste of blood.

"No I'm not!"

"Yes you- Donnie, look out!" Casey shrieked, sounding less manly than he intended.

Scumbug, now furious, had efficiently used his enemies' bickering to his advantage. Before he could turn around, a spider web twirled from its appendages binding Donatello to the ground, who kicked and struggled furiously.

The mutant now crouched over the captured turtle, prepared to strike with his signature acid spit.

"Hang on, D! Casey Jones is here to save the day! GOONGALA!" He bellowed, racing towards Scumbug and latching onto him like a demented parasite. It was hardly the most graceful of moves, but it distracted him briefly.

He raised his hockey stick, poking him hard in the eye in an attempt to gouge them. Eyes were sensitive- he remembered Splinter telling him that.

With the extra time, Donnie reached for his bō, ripping the web apart with the extended naginata blade.

Scumbug, now looking more disheveled and horrifically disfigured than normal, retreated blindly into the misty air.

"I didn't need your help." Donnie said bitterly.

"Aw, is that any way to say thank you?" Casey retorted. "I just saved your shell." He poked his plastron roughly. "I think I deserve a little appreciation for my heroism."

"I had it handled."

"Did you? Because you looked just about ready to be eaten by Scumbug."

Donatello scowled, moving closer. "And he got away. So your heroism didn't exactly work, did it?"

"Would you rather have acid stuck to your face?" Casey growled. "You'd look even freakier than you do now. Next time you're a little 'turtle in distress' don't expect me to come save your-"

"I didn't need saving." Their foreheads pressed together, any moment ready to face each other on.

Casey gritted his teeth. "Sure, whatever you say. I didn't help because I actually cared about you or anything."

"Then why did you?" Donnie snapped, pulling away. "You could have left me."

"Because I- you- argh!" Casey felt his temper rising. "Because I'm not a monster, alright? We're a team, and we help each other. That's the deal." He wiped his chapped lips again, the disgusting taste of blood still lingering. He winced, clutching his arm.

"I can patch you up at the lair." Donnie said softly. "It just looks sprained."

"Mm." Casey grumbled, still pissed. Stubbornness was taking over any injury he had. He'd rather have his arm stay at this awkward angle than admit he was hurt in front of his rival. "I'll just wrap it up at home. I'll be fine."

Donnie sighed, raising his palm to his face. "Don't be so stubborn, I can help you."

Casey didn't look convinced.

"To repay the favor?" His warm brown eyes looked surprisingly sincere. "You did help me, after all. I'd probably be toast if you didn't."

Casey snorted. "You got that right."

A beat. Donnie looked unsure, as if he wanted to say something else. But whatever it was, it was holding him back.

"So...we should go back to the lair then?" Casey suggested, easing the awkwardness.

"Huh? Yes, of course. Totally. " Donnie nodded. "Naturally."

"Alright then."

"Jones?"

Casey turned, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"I just wanted to say...thanks."

"Hey, no problem. But don't tell anyone I saved your ass."

"Deal."

~•~

Casey never expected to be sitting in Donnie's lab table, in between Timothy the blob-organ filled mutant and several bunsen burners, but life tended to be weird that way. He also didn’t expect to be pouting on said table like he was at some freaky doctor’s office. The rest of the team returned shortly after them, and seemed surprised that Donnie was actually willing to fix Casey's arm- and not begrudgingly.

Donnie returned with a first aid kit, setting it on the table. He hummed a familiar tune to himself, as if to fill the empty air of any more awkwardness.

"I've seen these before." Casey said, poking the bunsen burner tap, immediately then swatted away by Donatello. "At my school's science lab."

Donnie nodded, rolling up Casey's sleeve to examine his bare arm. Casey flinched, not comfortable with the random act of touching. "Hey don't!"

"Do you want your arm fixed or not?"

"...yeah."

"Then let me work my magic."

Casey frowned, staring at the bottle the turtle was holding. "Your magic looks like antibiotics and advil."

Donnie's lip twitched.

After his arm was treated somewhat, Donnie wrapped him up gently with a clean bandage. The slow movement made his heart race increase every time Donnie's fingertips brushed his arm, but he ignored it.

Don't be weird, Jones.

"That should be good. Don't put any pressure on it." said Donnie, passing him the advil. "And take this, it'll soothe the pain."

Casey pretended to look offended. "Here I thought you were gonna kiss it better."

Donnie rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. "Don't push it, Jones. We aren't there yet."

Casey laughed. "Yet. Thanks for fixin' my arm, D. You...aren't so bad, I guess. But let's go back to hating each other, alright?"

Donnie smirked. "Whatever you say."

[chalkrevelations]

Word of Honor Ep 6, and let’s talk a little about what’s canon, and what’s not, and about the particular slip-slidiness of the line between them on this show.

But first, due diligence: If you are NEW or JUST VISITING, this is a re-watch, so you’re going to find SPOILERS not just for this ep, but for the entire show. Scroll away and come back later if you haven’t seen all 36.5 eps and want to watch unspoiled. Also, heads-up, this got super long, because I had to talk about that stuff up there and then still talk about the ep. Hashtag long post (remorseful).

So, “canon,” as applied to fannish source material (in Western fandom, at least) traditionally has been considered the official stuff – the episode, the book, the comic, the movie – based on the religious definition of  “canon,” the collection of texts accepted as genuine and official within a religion. The word “fanon” – widely accepted fannish ideas – plays on this, as does the fandom concept of “word of God,” or things the Creators have said about the text but outside of it. Is it in the show as it aired or the book as it was printed? Canon. Is it not in the show as it aired or the book as it was printed? Not canon. (Apocrypha? Maybe. Anyway.) Generally, I think we’d say that things like material in the first draft of a script that doesn’t make it through revisions and onto the screen isn’t canon, even if you can get your hands on a copy of the first draft. The final product that airs is what’s canon. BUT this gets super slippery in something like WoH, in a way that’s exemplified in this episode. This ep is one of the places where people who can lip-read Chinese have spotted some significant dialogue changes between what the actors say on-screen and what lines have been dubbed in. (Everybody’s dubbed in cdramas, it’s just the thing that happens. You have your on-screen actors, and you have your voice actors. The ONLY person in The Untamed who did his own voice dubbing, for instance, was Ji Li, who played Nie Huaisang. All the other characters had voice actors dubbed in. In fact, the voice actor for Jiang Cheng in The Untamed is the voice actor for Wen Kexing in WoH.) One of the descriptions of WoH that I’ve heard is that this show was filmed as a bl and dubbed as a bromance. The thing is, nobody tried very hard to hide the shift. There are plenty of places that you can clearly see the actor’s mouths don’t match the dubbing, and they’re not artfully shot or edited to hide this. They’re fully on-screen, mouthing words that don’t match, right out in the open, almost like they want to you to pick up on it. Almost like it’s canon, because it’s right there on-screen, aired in the episode. In my first-watch reactions to Eps 36 and 37, I talked a lot about how the dubbing puts a layer of de-queered no-homo over what the on-screen actors are saying in these places, but if you can see what they’re actually saying and understand it, does that make it canon? What does it mean, both textually and meta-textually, if you can’t believe what you’re hearing – what you’re being told – because it contradicts what you’re seeing? How does that affect what we’re told about Our Protagonists and its “truth,” particularly in the final scenes? How much is the show deliberately working against censorship in this way? How much is it teaching us to look deeper than what we’re hearing on the surface?

Several people have talked about what’s actually being said by the on-screen actors in places where this happens, and I’m going to direct you to AvenueX on Youtube if you want a complete overview, because she’s reliable and has a good compilation that’s easy to find. She has a couple of videos called “Lip Reading for Sugar,” and the March 9, 2021, installment includes the Ep 6 incidences, the most significant of which are: At 3:05 in the ep, when WKX throws himself on Zhou Zishu’s back during the zombie Drug Men attack, calls him “mom,” asks ZZS to carry him, and tells “mom” that “your shoulder blades are the most beautiful.” Only no, Gong Jun didn’t say this, if you watch his mouth compared to the sound of the words. Instead of “niang” (mom), he says “Zhou Zishu.” Twice. “Zhou Zishu, carry me.” “Zhou Zishu, your shoulder blades are the most beautiful.” This is not only important because it emphasizes he’s gay for Zhou Zishu’s shoulder blades, but also because he’s fucking baked on Drunk Like A Dream incense when it happens, and later, ZZS will reveal that Drunk Like a Dream makes you see what you most desire, and he’ll confront WKX about how he “kept calling” someone’s name while he was under the influence of it. This makes no sense with the dubbing we get, because with “mom” dubbed over ZZS’s name here, WKX only calls Zhou Zishu’s real name once while he’s under the influence, at the end of ep 5. That is not kept calling. ANYWAY, once WKX clears his head and flies them away from the Drug Men, back to the a lakeside, there’s another disjunct at 5:05, when the dubbing has WKX tell ZZS not to play hero, that he doesn’t lose face if WKX helps him, and ZZS responds with something about your grandmother’s bear, which AvenueX tells me is a real Chinese idiom, although not for what. What Gong Jun and Zhang Zhehan appear to actually have said, though, is that WKX tells ZZS that this was just like a hero saving a beauty, with the implication that ZZS is the beauty, the damsel in distress, and ZZS respons that no, it’s like the beauty saving the hero, without a lick of concern that he’s the beauty, the damsel, in this scenario, just that he did all the work killing Drug Men and now this asshole is going to act like he’s the one who did the saving. At 31:24, dubbing has WKX telling ZZS that he’ll give ZZS whatever he wants if ZZS can get him some of the Drunk Like a Dream, but AvenueX tells me that he actually offers his body in exchange, in a way that implies marriage. And at 32:22, when ZZS asks WKX what he saw under the influence of the Drunk Like a Dream, the dubbing gives us some random story about baby WKX throwing a rat on his mother’s bed, while Gong Jun’s mouth seems to be saying something something about being in the bridal chamber with his beloved … so circling back to our first instance at 3:05, WKX using Zhou ZIshu’s name is now super-interesting, eh?

Another slip-slidey point of canon here is that there are two versions of this episode. The original version didn’t have the rabbit-washing scene. That was an extra that was inserted later into a Special Version ep when Youku reached 2 million subscribers. But the Special Version is now available on Youku’s channel (it’s the one I watched for this re-watch), AND it’s the regular version that’s on Netflix. So at 25:28, we now get this adorable little scene where ZZS and WKX are cleaning two rabbits in the lake before cooking them, and WKX splashes ZZS who pretends to be irritated before splashing WKX back and running away up the riverbank, chased by WKX. It’s flirty and playful and ALSO a foreshadowing of the flashback we’re going to see in a later ep, when they play together for an afternoon as children. Wasn’t canon before. Now it is.

Anyway, even with the (bad) dubbing that we get, this is a fantastic WenZhou ep. We open with them still being menaced by the zombies Drug Men, with a lot of swordwork by ZZS before he starts flagging because of his Nails Issue, whereupon WKX instantly sobers up, goes Evil Ghost Valley Master on Imposter Hanged Ghost who’s controlling the Drug Men, kills him with his Fan of Death, then scoops up ZZS and flies him off to a lake, where he attempts to tenderly check ZZS’s pulse and take care of his wounds before ZZS slaps away his hand like an offended maiden. WKX has to give him the qi smackdown in order to hold him still to :coff: pull down his robes and suck out the poison from the Drug Men scratches on the back of his shoulder. :hands: I remember the first time around, watching this with my mouth hanging open, demanding to know the heterosexual explanation for this. (Also, if you’re rummaging on Youtube, the Five Straight Guys Watching Word of Honor for this ep is not to be missed. They’re a little questionable in their reaction to the poison sucking, but before that, they’re a bunch of squeamish babies over using the dagger to further slice open the wounds to get to the poison, and it’s HILARIOUS. They can’t even look at the screen once the dagger comes out, hiding behind their hands. I love them, more and more as the eps go on, but they are WEAK compared to even the newbiest hurt/comfort fangirl.) There’s some more back and forth between WKX and ZZS about revealing their true selves to each other, no you, no YOU. WKX makes it clear that he knows there’s something really wrong with ZZS, and then they fight, set to romantic music, and ZZS ends up falling in the lake. I do the victory arms (  \o/  ) to myself where I’m sitting on the couch and startle one of the cats, because FINALLY we’re going to get rid of that execrable fake facial hair. ZZS fucks with WKX by staying underwater long enough that WKX panics and also dives in, we get some really cheap and awful underwater effects, and ZZS reveals his face! They end up back on the edge of the lake, drying their perfectly dry outer robes, while they sit around the fire together in their perfectly dry inner robes, but I am not going to complain because y’all. I CANNOT with how smug and pleased ZZS is for just a moment about WKX mooning over how pretty he is. Then he remembers to be an ill-tempered gremlin and pokes at WKX with a flaming stick, but I had to rewind four times just to catch that little moment of satisfaction about being admired again – it’s subtle and gorgeous and Zhang Zhehan is going to kill me with his face one of these days. ZZS demands dinner on this date, and fake-coughs pitifully to get WKX to go hunt something down, while he stays and does his delightful little thinky face as he pokes at the Soul Winding Box they got from Imposter Hanged Ghost. Then we get a shot of WKX looking at ZZS before he heads off to catch some rabbits that confirms he now knows he’s really Zhou Zishu, rather than Zhou Xu.

So, we’ll get back to the Ghost and the Box in a minute, but I do want to mention that this whole ep is layered through with mini-references and thematic stuff. Imposter Hanged Ghost rings his little bell to control his Drug Men, and remember that, we’ll see that again. WKX asks if ZZS came from the Healer’s Valley when ZZS offers him an antidote to the Drug Man poison; we learn later that WKX, himself, is the one who came from the Healer’s Valley. When ZZS gets the Soul Winding Box open and finds a piece of the Glazed Armor inside (Danyang’s, taken off of Ao Laizi by Ghost Valley before he was hung at the gate of Sanbai Manor), he gives it to WKX, tells him to throw it away if he doesn’t want it. WKX says he couldn’t possibly, and that he’ll wear it because it’s his first gift from A-Xu. Compare this to the way Xie’er will wear Awful Yifu’s Glazed Armor around his neck. We also see some of the thematic and referential stuff come up in conversations that form a repeated pattern in this ep of ZZS stressing what a bad and dangerous person he is: He scoffs at the idea he’s from Healer’s Valley, and asks if he looks like someone who practices medicine; WKX responds that he looked like a professional killer (true) who was cruel in the abandoned temple (presumably while escaping Mirror Lake) and frightening to a kind-hearted man like WKX who can’t even kill a chicken (particularly amusing given the prep for New Year’s dinner in a later ep, when WKX is the only one who CAN). At the lakeside and again after ZZS hightails it away from Sanbai Manor when they spot Han Ying there (HAN YING, my beloved), WKX asks if ZZS is a fugitive, what he’s hiding from, and says that he’ll protect him – by reason, because would he kill anyone unreasonably (omg, where to even begin? How many guys have you choked out at this point)? When they’re arguing about ZZS revealing his “true” face, ZZS warns that most people who’ve seen his real appearance are dead (probably true). WKX says he’s not afraid of death (not his own, at least, we’ll see that the thing he’s afraid of is ZZS’s death). ZZS warns WKX that he’s not only sharp-tongued, he’s ruthless (true). He tells WKX that he’s murdered many people (true) and set them on fire (not unlikely, frankly) and committed many crimes (true, in a way, although they were state-sanctioned, making them legal, if morally reprehensible). This is the ZZS who put the Nails in himself, who talks to himself about what a truly awful shixiong he is, who tells Prince Jin that he’s only good as a weapon. I like how we see this at the same time that we’re starting to see the side of him that’ll preen when someone thinks he’s pretty - this is a process, and it’s subtle, not as high-drama as WKX’s, but it’s there, nonetheless.

We also formally meet Xie Wang in this ep, artfully posed and playing his pipa among the bodies – old and new – of Zhao Coffin Home. He and Changing Ghost have a bit of a slapfight over whose fault it is that Imposter Hanged Ghost, who was actually Long-Tongued Ghost, got killed and got his (Danyang’s) Glazed Armor took by WKX, when Changing Ghost stole it from Ao Laizi, put it in the Soul Winding Box and gave it to Long-Tongued Ghost specifically to deliver it to Xie Wang. Xie Wang is super cool through all of this, and I think we get a sense of how deadly he is by the way Changing Ghost backs down. So, here’s what’s falling together: Some iteration of Ghost Valley is working with Xie Wang and the Scorpion Sect, giving the Scorpions access to the Soul Winding Threads, which we saw used at the Mirror Lake massacre and in the woods outside of Sanbai Manor to kill Yu Tianjie in the last ep. Via Xie Wang, Ghost Vally has access to use of the Drug Men, which we’ve seen at the Zhao Coffin Home (so far), although we haven’t yet been told (I think) how Xie Wang got access to the potions to create Drug Men (we also know ZZS read about Drug Men in a book somewhere, and got enough info to engineer an antidote to them). Xie Wang and the Scorpions have access to Drunk Like a Dream incense, which had to come from Prince Jin’s court, having been engineered by ZZS based on a much stronger formulation. Han Ying, from Tian Chuang in Prince Jin’s court, has been seen at Sanbai Manor, Zhao Jing’s place.

Meanwhile Chengling is doing poorly, with no appetite and getting bellowed at some more by Shen Shen, who would be the worst if only I didn’t know everything I know, which makes me cringe when Zhao Jing refers to Chengling as “my son, now.” NO. RUN, Goldbean. For some more thematic and referential stuff in this ep, WKX calls Chengling a “lonely chick with no one to rely on” and tsks over the fact that he’s “surrounded by hounds smarter than foxes” now that he’s under the care of the Five Lakes Alliance. This is clearly to manipulate ZZS into thinking Chengling is better off with ZZS, but it also sounds like an awfully apt description of Zhen Yan in Ghost Valley. I’m just sayin’.

[insomniacowl]

Neon Genesis Evangelion analysis chapter 21: Kaji Ryoji Lies and Silence

Hi, it's been a while. I'm sorry I disappeared for 5 months while working on the graduate thesis. From now on I will try to upload once every two weeks at 7pm on Saturday.

From here on out, the analysis will focus on the important characters of Evangelion with 15 chapters left to go. Thank you for your patience so far and I hope you all stick with me for the remainder of the ride.

Also, I realized that Tumblr now allows maximum of 10 photos a post, so I am thinking of moving or co-posting on a different site. I'll update all of you when that happens

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Sakiel: The third angel, the first real opponent of Nerv. A portion of voice recordings of the battle attained

Shamel: The fourth angel, visual data gathered and backed up. Will send recordings of Unit – 01's battle against it.

Ramiel: The fifth angel, portion of remains attained and analyzed. Will send information about AT field.

Gagiel: The sixth angel, visual confirmation. Information attained from the UN. Will send information along with Unit – 02's battle data.

Israphel: The seventh angel, visual confirmation, will send data through channel 11-B. Attained sample of material composition

Sandalphon: The eight angels, confirmation through a still image. No further information

Matarael: The ninth angel, visual confirmation. Used the blackout to obtain a sample.

Sahaquel: The tenth angel, photographed attained. Will enter into the database through channel 57-F

Ireul: The eleventh angel, visual confirmation, data erased by Nerv. Will retrieve physically and send them over.

Reriel: The twelfth angel. Unit – 01 went berserk again

Bardiel: The thirteenth angel. Data attained from Mitsushiro facility

Zeruel: The fourteenth angel, visual confirmation. Unit – 01 went berserk. Will send video data.

---Excerpt from "The memos of Kaji Ryoji."

"2015: the Last Year of Ryoji Kaji" was written by the head scriptwriter Yamaguchi Hiroshi and was published in 1997. It contains Kaji's observations of various Incidents and set pieces in the series. It is not anything too particular; however, the fresh perspective Kaji's writings provide makes this an essential material in our understanding of the world of Evangelion. The excerpts mentioned above are essential proof of Kaji's identity as a spy and prove that the blackout during Matarael's attack was deliberately caused by Kaji and Seele.

Furthermore, it explains how Seele had attained information regarding Iruel's existence and its attack on the Nerv facility, even when Nerv/Gendou tried to hide this fact.

The memo above seems to be the observation of Nerv and the angels made by Kaji. While Kaji officially belongs under the Japanese government's command, as we have covered in Chapter 17, the Japanese government is unaware of Lilith's existence. It, therefore, has a different numbering system from Nerv and Seele.

Adding on to this point, the public in the world of Evangelion is unaware of the existence of Lilith. High-ranking Nerv officials such as Misato are aware of Lilith only as of the cause of the First impact and no more. Thus we can deduce that Kaji made the memo while he was on Seele's side, considering that he knew about Lilith in detail. But Kaji never once wholly and permanently sided with any organization. Like how his main character trait is a "flirt," he is never loyal to any organization, just like how he is perceived to be with women; two, perhaps three-timing.

Kaji: You've lost weight

Ritsuko: Are you flirting with me? Stop. A scary-looking friend is watching.

However, it is wrong to say that Kaji was a cheater by any means. His heart belonged only to Misato, and she was the one he trusted the most. His flirting with Ritsuko and Maya made others view him as a superficial person and did not take him too seriously. This got some eyes off his back. This would have given him more freedom to act in achieving his goals (but also, it might have been fun to get Misato jealous in a playful way).

Kaji: Not like you are going to repay that. I added some dummy information in case.

Now, let's take a closer look at Kaji's actions throughout the series. He makes his first appearance in episode 7, having a phone call with Gendou discussing the Jet Alone (JA) program. Because JA was developed as a competition to the Evangelion projects, its implementation would have caused Nerv's authority to weaken and jeopardize the HIP. Making it a top priority to prevent its further development. Minus the actions taken by Misato, the proceedings of JA going berserk and being miraculously fixed were likely a scenario manufactured by Gendou.

Kaji: it has been restored up to this point. It is frozen in a thick layer of bayclade, but it is alive.

The key to the HIP

We first see his face in episode 8 on a new mission: Transporting Adam and Unit – 02 to Nerv headquarters. He likely attained Adam's body in Germany, stealing it under the nose of our dear old friend Keel. The question is, how did he do it? We will never know the details, but we know that Seele's projects that required Adam were complete at this point (Creation of Evas and Tabris). They may not have had much use or concern for the leftovers. Since Adam's fetal form is small, it would have been easy to swap the original for a copy before he left. Of course, this would not have gone unnoticed for long, and it did not.

In episode 10, we see Kaji talking to an unknown woman about the initiation of protocol A-17. It appears to be a measure that limits and shrinks Nerv's authority and freeze their funds. Just like the JA plan, it shows the hostility of the Japanese government towards Nerv. Because Nerv and Seele are still on agreeable terms, Kaji is seen as a double spy between Nerv and the Japanese government. But in episode 11, the Nerv blackout happens. With clues spread over the episode pointing to Kaji as the culprit with Seele's support, we begin to see him in action as a triple spy.

The reason why Kaji undertook such a dangerous role is to get closer to the "Truth." Upon realizing the Japanese government's imbecility, he begins to walk the rope between Nerv and Seele to seek the truth.

Kaji: Is that an angel? This is not the time to be doing my job

We first see him in action in episode 13 while the HQ was distracted defending against Ireul. Here we see him collecting information around the central dogma. While doing so, Kaji notices the angel while passing through the passage in level 28 and hears the announcement that the "Sigma unit (the Eva simulation chamber) will be shut off in 60 seconds. Bearing in mind that Magi is located in level 40 and that a lower number refers to a deeper level, we can see that Kaji has already infiltrated deep into the complex. As central dogma and Lilith were information that Nerv and Seele wanted to keep secret, this infiltration was likely Kaji's initiative. With the same logic, we can also say that the information he gathered regarding the Marduk institution in episode 15 was his individual action as well.

Later in the episode, he is found by Misato as he was trying to infiltrate the central dogma. But Kaji does not seem surprised by this fact and opens the door without hesitation. What they see on the other side was the white giant Lilith. However, we hear Kaji refer to it as Adam. Why? There are two possible explanations for this. First is that Kaji knew that it was Lilith but deliberately lied to Misato.

This explanation is weak at best. It contradicts the characterization of Misato being the only woman Kaji trusts. Further, it contradicts the portrayal of their relationship in the following episodes. It is also difficult to explain why Kaji would distinguish between Adam and Lilith in his explanation to Misato.

The other possible explanation is that Kaji believed this to be Adam, and I am personally more convinced of this explanation. As we have seen in an earlier episode, Kaji passed on the Adam sample to Gendou. Both were fully aware of what he has gotten into his hands (puns perhaps intended). Then why did Kaji believe that it was Adam in central dogma? He likely at this moment believed that the white giant was the manifestation of the Adam sample that he stole. Although it looked different, Kaji, who saw Sandalphon transforming at an unbelievable speed, would have drawn parallels.

Kaji's misunderstanding is also supported by the secretiveness of the existence of Lilith. The information being top-secret accessible only to the Gendou and Seele. Even when Gendou referred to Adam as "The first man," it could be him trying to misdirect Kaji on the identity of the white giants. Although the reason for this secretiveness is not apparent, we know that Seele was ashamed of their status as the descendent of Lilith, this being the reason for conducting the ritual of atonement.

The HIP Seele type is, in essence, based on the feeling of perceived inferiority against the Adam-based angels. Thus it can explain away why Seele would want to keep the project a secret from the public. Even without such reasons, Lilith's identity as a being in the same caliber of existence as Adam might have created a need to keep her locked away and kept secret. This to minimize unnecessary friction and interference in their plans by other organizations.

To add on, let's touch on the strange phrase written on the container of Adam's sample that Kaji brought over. "Who is you? He is living. Why?". There are no explanations given regarding this phrase. It is likely written by one of the researchers in the german facility that was studying this sample. Being the only remaining Adam sample that seemed alive with the absence of a soul, it would have been baffling to look at it.

This lie about the identity of Adam and Lilith is a recurring motif. In the earlier chapters discussing the angels' identity, I have mentioned that due to the enemies being the "Angels," Evangelion fundamentally rejects the narrative of Good triumphing over Evil. During one of the sequences in the opening song, there is a frame reading "ADAM," and it is unique as it is the only one that is black words with a white background. This likely foreshadows the fact that information regarding Adam that we receive is different, thus, at some level, inaccurate or lies.

Either way, the truth of the White giant's identity is revealed near the end of the series. The audiences are made aware of it through the exposition of Tabris. For Miasto, she receives this truth from Kaji along with all the information and data he collected by himself. Through this 'Truth,' we can infer what Kaji wanted to protect and what his 'will' was. This 'will' to live is passed on from Kaji to Misato, from Misato to Shinji, and influences his decision during the end of Evangelion.

Kaji: Shinji, the only thing that I can do right now is to water these plants. And as much, there are things that only you are capable of accomplishing right now. No one is going to force you to do anything. Think for yourself. Decide for yourself. Determined what it is that you need to do right now.

So that you will not end up in regrets.

The alliance between Gendou and Seele began to show signs of schisms in episode 19 after Unit – 01 consumed Zeruel's S2 engine and became a being as though god. This was more in line with the plan of Gendou, who sought for the creation of a new god, the material conditions misaligning from Seele's plans of atoning for the sin of Lilith. Kaji was very much likely to have been aware of all this. When the schisms showed, Kaji had to choose the side he had to stand with. He seemed to have concluded that Nerv is closer to the truth that he wanted. Therefore he ended up helping Gendou achieve his version of the HIP.

I say this as Kaji played a crucial role in convincing Shinji to return and pilot Unit – 01 during the battle against Zeruel. Afterward, Kaji released Fuyutsuki, who was kidnapped by Seele, and began his pro-Nerv strategies. This leads up to his assassination by Seele's orders. To borrow Seele's words, "The bell around Gendou's neck lost its will to ring."

Fuyutsuki: Is that you Kaji?

Kaji: It's been a while.

Fuyutsuki: You will lose your life if you do this.

Kaji: I am just heading towards the truth that I believe in.

Let me talk a little more about his death. In episode 21 of the renewal version, an additional line was spoken: "They found out that I handed over Adam's sample to Gendou." This draws a line connecting the importance of Adam's Sample in Kaji's death and its role in the HIP.

Regarding the Assassin identity, due to the scene of Misato's grief being placed right after Kaji's death in "Death and Rebirth," some believed that it was Misato killed Kaji. One of the rare things that Anno came forward and cleared up was that Kaji's assassin was an unnamed individual that we do not see ever on screen. An additional argument made by those suspecting Misato as the culprit claims the evidence of interlaying of Misato's apartment door label right after the gunshot. This was later removed in the renewal version.

Kaji: No one can understand another person to a full extend. They can't even understand themselves.

But that is why people try their best to understand the other.

And that is what makes life such a fun experience.

Many of what Kaji says touches on the critical messages of Evangelion. It is also why I am starting off this section, the analysis of characters with Kaji; understanding Kaji is integral to understanding the series as a whole. He loved Misato but could not tell her his true feelings during the happiness of reunion after eight years. This was likely the greatest form of love that he could have given her, knowing that he is close to his death. The reason for Kaji's obsession with the truth and the sufferings he experienced in the past is fleshed out in detail in the comics version. He was orphaned as a consequence of the Second impact. After a failed attempt at stealing food from the military base, all of his friends were killed, leaving him alive and questioning the reason for their suffering and death. Kaji sought to avenge his friends by understanding why the Second impact happened.

But even without going into the details, we can try and understand the pain and suffering he went through as the generation living after the Second impact. Yet, his general attitude towards life and his ability to call living to be fun is his unique charm. He even managed to have a smile on his face while looking at the face of his death. His smile was not a forced fake that he made to mask his fear of death; he has probably smiled from the bottom of his heart.

Yo. You're late

Because he would have already reached the truth that he worked so part to attain.

TBC Chapter 22: Katsuragi Misato Part 1 With a cross in hand

[i-like-plan-m]

Could you do a modern au with famous parents Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji and baby a-yuan being adorable and being loved by their fans?

this was fun, thank you! [Posted to Ao3]

The video was short and packed with Wei Ying’s rapid-fire chatter, a response to his recent fan-selected award after a landslide of votes had catapulted him to the top of a long list of very accomplished actors. He’d spent the last hour trading off between screaming into a pillow and wandering around in dazed disbelief until Wen Qing, acting in her capacity as his agent, had bullied him into making a quick thank you video.

Wei Ying kept it quick and crammed as much of his gratitude and excitement into it as he could, though he was careful to keep the screen confined to the office space Lan Zhan had designed for him. It was a live video, since that seemed to be what fans preferred these days, so he angled the camera carefully away from anything incriminating.

And by incriminating he meant “any sign that Wei Ying had a life outside of acting.”

The door was closed, and the room held no identifying pictures or objects. Wei Ying had come to treasure his privacy, and was fierce about protecting the details of his personal life out of the hands of his thousands of fans. Enough that no one outside of their families even knew they were friends, much less married with a son.

Lan Zhan, of course, hated the riot of noise and flashing lights that accompanied Wei Ying anywhere in public. As one of the foremost violinists in this hemisphere, he had his own level of fame, but his fans were less likely to screech like a banshee upon seeing him. And they had A-Yuan to protect now, and keeping him out of the spotlight was the safest way to do so.

His oversight was not locking the door. A rookie parenting mistake.

A-Yuan burst through the door like the Kool-Aid Man about ten seconds into Wei Ying’s final thank you speech, his damp hair sticking up in downy tufts and his little body swamped by one of Wei Ying’s softest threadbare t-shirts.

“Baba!” He shouted at the top of his tiny but incredibly powerful lungs. “There’s a bird in the house!”

Wei Ying watched the dismay cross his face in real time on the phone screen, followed by alarm when his son’s words finally registered. “There’s a what in the house?” He asked as he whipped his head around, the live stream momentarily forgotten.

“A bird!” A-Yuan said excitedly, hopping over to him when the shirt got tangled around his feet. Wei Ying scooped him up before he tumbled face-first to the floor. His son gripped his shirt and leaned in until their noses were nearly touching, eyes wide and bright over the commotion. “Can we keep it?”

There was an angry shriek from the kitchen that suggested the bird would not appreciate such an invitation.

“Where is your dad?” Wei Ying asked instead of answering, phone shoved hastily into his pocket when a crash sounded in the house.

“He’s hiding Popcorn and Jelly Bean,” A-Yuan reported. Wei Ying’s smile was fond; of course Lan Zhan would stash the bunnies safely away. “He told me to wait for him, but I didn’t want you to be scared! It’s okay to be scared, though,” he said earnestly, his little face solemn and so reminiscent of Lan Zhan that Wei Ying had to stop and shower kisses all over his face.

“When’d you get to be so smart, huh?” Wei Ying asked when A-Yuan was breathless with laughter and squirming so much he nearly dropped him.

“Baba,” he complained, flopping over his shoulder with a huff. “That’s what you said.”

“Ha! Of course you’re smart, then, if you’re learning from me!”

“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan’s low voice had him turning and tightening his grip on A-Yuan when he wriggled happily at the sight of his other father.

“I hear we have an intruder,” Wei Ying said, grinning widely at his husband.

Exasperation crossed Lan Zhan’s face. “It flew in by mistake,” he said, but then he glanced at A-Yuan with a wry smile.

“By mistake, huh?” Wei Ying bounced his son in his arms, grinning when A-Yuan giggled and fisted his hands in his shirt to cling to for balance. “And what, pray tell, were you doing when this bird wandered into our home?”

A-Yuan blinked big, dark eyes at him with utter innocence. “Playing!”

“Mhm. And what were you playing?” Wei Ying leaned cautiously around the corner to peer into the kitchen, wincing when the unfortunately large bird spotted him and screeched furiously.

“Um.” A-Yuan thought for a moment. “The bunnies wanted to see outside.”

“Did they?” Wei Ying asked, trading a glance with Lan Zhan, who then scowled at the bird now stabbing its beak angrily at the plants on top of the cabinets.

A-Yuan nodded seriously. “Yes, they told me.”

“So you took the bunnies onto the balcony?” Wei Ying prompted.

“They aren’t allowed outside unless someone is with them,” A-Yuan repeated, which, okay, at least he remembered some of the rules. They’d have to work on ensuring he understood the rules were for him, not their fuzzy little pets. “I carried Jellybean outside so she could see the clouds! One looked like a dinosaur, baba. She wanted to see.”

“Oh, well, in that case.” He had a good idea of what had happened here. The ‘not going outside without someone to watch you’ rule had somehow been transferred into ‘you can go outside alone as long as you’re watching the bunnies,’ because that was the logic of a four year old.

“And then the bird?” Lan Zhan asked, clearly also aware of the chain of events that had led to them cowering in the hallway as a baffled and irate bird rushed around their kitchen in a destructive-sounding temper tantrum.

A-Yuan cuddled closer to Wei Ying as though sensing an impending punishment. Wei Ying rolled his eyes; Lan Zhan would fold in a heartbeat under that big-eyed stare, and it would be left to Wei Ying to remind them both why humans under three feet tall weren’t allowed on the balcony alone.

“The bird wanted to play with Jellybean,” A-Yuan said. Wei Ying’s jaw dropped.

“The bird wanted to play with Jellybean,” Lan Zhan repeated slowly.

“Yes! It flew down super fast! And it landed right beside me! Then we went inside, because Popcorn was all alone, and the bird came inside to see him too!”

“Okay,” Wei Ying said in a strangled voice, and it took a heroic effort to keep the laughter at bay. “A-Yuan, why don’t you go check on the bunnies, okay? We’re going to go help the bird get back home.”

A-Yuan craned his neck around to peer into the kitchen. “It sounds pretty mad,” he said doubtfully.

“We will talk to it,” Lan Zhan assured him, and they waited until A-Yuan had scampered out of sight to stare at each other with wide eyes.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.”

Lan Zhan pinched the bridge of his nose. “The bunnies were almost eaten.”

“Our son was almost traumatized for life,” Wei Ying said, choking on a laugh. “Lan Zhan, he almost witnessed a double homicide on our own balcony.” He wheezed with laughter, clutching his ribs.

“We will install higher locks,” Lan Zhan said grimly.

“Either that or buy a baby backpack leash,” Wei Ying agreed, and grinned widely at Lan Zhan’s sigh. “I’m just saying, the kid is going to keep on growing. He’s too smart for his own good, too.”

“What do we do about the bird?” Lan Zhan asked, absently stroking a hand along Wei Ying’s spine when he leaned against his side.

“Hell if I know. Maybe Wen Ning will know what to do. He knows things like this, right?”

“He is a vet,” Lan Zhan said dryly. “I should hope so.”

“I’ll call him,” Wei Ying decided. “We should probably feed him while he’s over here. As payment, you know. Not many friends would come wrestle with a wild bird on a Friday night for us.”

“I think the bird would object if I tried to cook,” Lan Zhan said, surly. He made a sound of distress. “Wei Ying, it’s in the pantry.”

“It’s deciding what it wants for dinner, Lan Zhan. Better pay attention or it’ll go for the bunnies again!” Lan Zhan looked at him, appalled, and he couldn’t bite back the tide of laughter.

“Ridiculous,” Lan Zhan muttered.

“You married me,” Wei Ying pointed out. “No take backs.”

Lan Zhan softened like he did every time Wei Ying brought up their marriage. Pressed a kiss to his forehead and agreed, “No take backs.”

And then a moment later— “But leave the bunnies out of this.”

His Lan Zhan was so soft hearted, Wei Ying thought, so full of love he could burst.

“Yeah, yeah, I know where I rank,” Wei Ying said, entirely teasing. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, still grinning up at Lan Zhan as his husband gave an exasperated sigh.

The grin fell right off his face at the sight of his phone screen, which was open. And recording. And so full with rapid-fire comments that the actual video screen was barely visible.

“Oh no,” he said. “Oh no. Lan Zhan.”

“What’s wrong?” Lan Zhan asked, glancing worriedly at him and then down to the screen when Wei Ying couldn’t tear his eyes away from it.

Wei Ying looked up slowly, so guilty he felt sick with it. “It’s been recording this whole time,” he whispered.

He must have looked really bad, because Lan Zhan ignored the phone entirely and pulled him close, holding one of Wei Ying’s palms flat against his chest and breathing slowly and deliberately until he matched his own breathing to Lan Zhan’s. The familiar routine soothed the edges of anxiety that were rapidly blooming into a panic attack, and he swallowed hard and dropped his forehead against Lan Zhan’s shoulder until he could think straight.

“I’m—“

“No apologies,” Lan Zhan reminded him in a murmur so low against his ear that the phone couldn’t have picked it up. “It was an accident. We knew this wouldn’t last forever, and I’m not ashamed of you or A-Yuan. It’s okay  Wei Ying.”

“But I fucked up,” Wei Ying mumbled into his neck, clinging like A-Yuan after a bad dream.

“You had an intruder to welcome,” Lan Zhan said, amused. Wei Ying risked a glance up and found that Lan Zhan was smiling, not even a hint of worry on his face.

“Might as well run with it, I guess,” he said with a hesitant smile.

Lan Zhan pressed a kiss to his hair. “Might as well.”

Wei Ying smiled for real now, bright and unrestrained as he lifted the camera away from the floor. “Uh. Hi, everyone! Wow, there are a lot of you. Lan Zhan, this is like, triple the people who were watching it at the beginning. I think I’m offended.”

“Wei Ying.”

“Right, right. So… surprise!” He laughed at a few of the comments, and then they winced in tandem at the loud bang and squawk from the kitchen. “There’s another surprise for all of us tonight, it seems. Look who showed up and just let herself right in!” He flipped the camera around just in time to catch the bird’s beady eyes glaring at them from atop the fridge.

“Can you believe this?” Wei Ying slipped into his usual stream-of-consciousness chatter, free hand tucked into Lan Zhan’s as the pitter patter of little feet trotted down the hall towards them, announcing A-Yuan’s return.

He segued into talking about his husband and son, hesitant at first from years of absolute silence on the topic. Half an hour, a miraculously unscathed Wen Ning and a freed bird later, Wei Ying ended the video and set his phone aside, feeling a little wrung out from the evening’s events.

His phone buzzed. “Jiang Cheng wants to know why we’re trending on twitter. Ha! Get a bird stuck in your house and maybe you’ll become a twitter sensation, A-Cheng!”

He glanced over at A-Yuan, who had his face pressed to the glass door to the balcony in a futile search for the bird. “Time for that talk?” He asked, nudging Lan Zhan with a pointed nod.

Lan Zhan looked shifty. “The bunnies weren’t actually hurt.”

“So… a lecture about the dangers of balconies, but not about the bunny jailbreak and near-execution?”

“That seems fair.”

Fair. Yeah, right. Lan Zhan just couldn’t handle a few distraught tears from their child who absolutely realized this weakness and happily exploited it. “You realize we’re a couple of suckers, right?”

Lan Zhan shrugged. “I’m okay with it.”

Yeah, Wei Ying thought, giving in with a sigh. So was he.

[vaguely-concerned]

R-r-r-rewatch thoughts for The Mandalorian S2 Ep2

(or Chapter 10 as they seem resolved to call it)

- can I just express my joy for a moment that in one episode we get peli, the answer to my pleas for female representation in the ‘sketchy middle aged car mechanic’ niche, and a female alien designed with no consideration towards sexiness. (I mean I’m sure there’s someone. There is always someone somewhere on the Internet, is the bitter truth history has shown to us. but it’s not the intention behind the design haha)  

- they do take great pains to deliberately show you boba’s armour several times both in the recap and in the episode itself, so never despair he is very likely still on his way onto our screens once more

- this dude holding the baby hostage wanting specifically the jetpack in exchange is the one (1) break this whole episode gave din lol 

also the Patented Mando Finger Curl of Stress while he talked softly and calmly to not promp this asshole to make a sudden move... the most endearing character tic, I love my space cowboy dad so much 

- fun continuity detail: din is all out of whistling birds now, and you can see it here!

I wonder if he could still use the same mechanism with different ‘ammo’, it’s just not as effective? from the way the armorer spoke whistling birds seem quite rare and it would be an inefficient use of beskar if that’s the only thing it can be loaded with

 - I love how after the last episode, a 50 min epic with a bunch of original trilogy significance and impressive technical achievements and exciting character reveals, I was like ‘yeah okay I suppose that is quite interesting’, and this mess/comedy of inconveniences is the thing that fully makes my brain tip into the obsessive ‘BABY AND DAD SHOW!! BABY AND DAD SHOW!!!!!’ mind state lol

- ah the traditional ‘mando trudging slowly but steadily through the desert’ montage we all love to see (I hope this is going to be a Thing for the second episode of every season from now on) 

Also I assume his suit has some sort of temperature regulation built in and that’s how he didn’t, y’know. die under the blazing desert sun

-

CAT FIGHT CAT FIGHT man I love the jawa. also mando doesn’t even glance over at them, really emphasizing how he’s like. done with this entire day (and it’s all barely even getting started din! i’m sorry)

 yodito’s look in this scene tho... he’s like ‘we’ve Seen some shit lady’ (actually I think he’s staring at ‘dr mandible’ like O___o. it’s been a long day for a lil boy) 

you get to see dr mandible’s cards a few times, so I assume anyone who knows the rules of... sabacc? probably? could figure out beforehand that he was in a bad spot. (the star wars fanbase is one of those where I KNOW the rules exist somewhere, and I know people who know those rules exist too)  

- that sound the baby keeps making -- the ‘boo-a’, sometimes with a p-sound at the end -- if that’s the precursor to him saying any variation whatsoever of ‘dad’ or ‘papa’ or ‘baba’ or even ‘buir’ or anything, I will die. I will sink to the ground in a heap and never get up (the way he keeps seeking out gaze contact with the helmet and seems perfectly satisfied with it too... fasdhfaskdjhl my FEELINGS)

- it seems confirmed in this ep that the mandos who died on nevarro did so while holding off the enemy so the rest(probably especially the children) could get away; some of them appear to have escaped. which I guess is a small relief

- 

frog lady stepping out of the shadows and into our hearts

I like that her firm nod after Peli translates ‘her husband has seen them’ lets us know she understands... basic? is that the common tongue thing in star wars there’s just so many to remember across fandoms lol? perfectly well, even if she can’t speak it. 

- mando might be running low on ammo for the pulse rifle, if the fact that he hasn’t replaced the missing cartridge on his... bandolier belt thingy is any indication

ETA: actually ignore me this has been a thing since the literal first episode of the show my brain just had a hiccup lol

- so baby seems to use a little bit of the force to pull the eggs towards him -- I wonder how often he ‘taps into it’ or if it’s always ‘on’ in the background for him. if so I guess there’s no wonder he’s so hungry (but also... kid you can’t end this lady’s entire family line like that one cat who singlehandedly made extinct a whole species of bird! D:)

- din so rarely gets openly angry, he just gets passive aggressive and grumpy. and that’s probably not the healthiest way to deal with things but I love him

- frog lady reacts so strongly to when din sends the ping when nothing else woke her up, I wonder if she can hear more frequencies than a human

- 

hello darkness my old frieeennnddd

- 

proof nr 1508 that din does not starve this baby you guys, he even has his own little tray just the right size for him! as it happens the baby simply seems to prefer eating things that are... still alive in some capacity. which, uh. maybe they can invest in some form of non-sentient crickets or something for him to hunt down and.... oh dear

- 

Look how they massacred my boy

By the way I finally managed to put into words why the Razor Crest -- and particularly the way it keeps getting beaten to hell and back and patched up again --  is so symbolically important and meaningful to me in this show in this post over here! it’s always a great relief to me when I can finally understand what the hell I’ve been going on about all this time and this was one of those lol

-  honestly if it weren’t for frog lady and (more importantly) the baby I think there’s a slight chance din would’ve gone ‘well I had a good-ish run of it for a while there’ and just let the ice claim him haha   

- “Why don’t you come over here and give me a hand. Make yourself useful” This is the one time in the episode I think he crosses the line into just being a dick for a moment (but noticeably the baby isn’t just a little hurt at this reaction, he’s clearly surprised and confused, which means this really does not happen often. after the time mando’s been having recently I guess a moment’s snappishness is understandable haha. he does follow up right after with being much more responsive and attentive when the baby toddles away from him, so it feels like it’s going to be okay)

also the ‘boo-ap’ sound is there again when he’s trying to get din’s attention. just sayin’ 

when din comes over to see the footprints baby makes a declarative little meep like ‘see??? I did tell you!’ haha

- it is very funny that mando is using all his technology meant to track down dangerous bounties in the grungy depths of the criminal underworld... to find a naked lady just chillin’ in a hot spring 

- 

cue the ‘father is evil?’ memes fsadfda. actually the funniest thing about this moment (apart from the fabulous finger acting) is that din actually snatches a few eggs out of the baby’s reach more subtly right before, and that baby only whines for ALL OF ONE SECOND before he goes to sniff around for other food possibilities fkadfhjkds. from my experience with human children he’s a lot less prone to tantrums. yodito doesn’t get mad, he gets even 

- baby running towards din through the hatching spiderlings like ‘DAD I FUCKED UUUUUUP’, din’s little strangled ‘ngh’ sound as he picks the baby up and watches all the creepy crawlies come out... *chef kiss* impeccable 

(that little ‘ngh’ and the soft shocked ‘ah ah AH!’s from when he goes flying at the beginning of the episode... pedro pascal and his voice work for this character gives me so much life. in some ways din has this sort of dignity and grace and in other ways he uh extremely doesn’t. he gets to be cool but also vulnerable in ways a lot of male main characters don’t and it’s probably why I love him so much) 

btw here is that moment when din moves to hold the baby tightly against him with both hands as the big spider appears, because it gets me right in the heart... it such an instinctive thing of holding on to the dearest thing you’ve got before something bad is about to happen

fdsafhsdakjlfhsdkjlhfsdajhf oh my god the baby is clutching din’s finger with his little hand during the chase!!!! 😭😭😭

this FUCKING SHOW has just WEAPONIZED putting in small details everywhere to convey the love and tenderness and attachment felt by a little muppet doll even where only weirdos like me will frame by frame their way through the video to see it I am so MAD

- frog lady going ‘fuck this’ and bounding along is  e v e r y t h i n g 

- din is an amazing shot, though, he doesn’t seem to miss a single one in this whole scene (then again there’s something to shoot at basically everywhere one can take aim so lol)

-

baby hiding behind/half hugging din’s boot as he tries to get the doors closed hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I can’t breathhhhheeeee 

honestly every single one of the baby’s proximity seeking behaviours in this ep has me on my knees 

- it’s very unfair to play the heroic happy mando music like everything is going to be fine and then have a huge fuck-off spider drop down from the ceiling and break it off mid-tune, the mandalorian, you have trained me in certain ways and now do you betray me??? how can I trust again

- the camera work in the scene with the new republic guys gives such a good sense of the discomfort of being judged from on high by someone or something you can’t really see -- the glare of the lights blocking out everything in the shots from din’s pov makes it feel like a tense interrogation (the new republic dude who is actually dave filoni has such a look of fondness as he watches din tho it’s kind of sweet)

- ...oh no I think baby was actually considering munching on that dismembered spider leg YODITO NO JUST EAT YOUR KRAYT DRAGON BABY

- hngh this is a weird filler episode and it has my entire heart. I suspect we might get some episodes of a more stationary baby between active ones like this -- you can tell a little bit in this episode that especially having him running around fast is quite difficult to have look natural, they likely save that effort up for when it best serves the narrative  

[arahul-abyssia]

Looks like it's September again (already, somehow), so that means that it's Nintember again, which means I'll be writing again! Same dealio as last time, one story per five prompts, up to six writings total. (And I'll be putting most of each under a cut, because mobile users can't skip posts)

And for my first entry for @starprincesshlc and @jklantern 's wonderful little event, I shall once again be attempting to twist some modicum of continuity, characterization, and canon-compliance out of a world that clearly cares scarcely for all three.

The Great Act

~~ Art, Green, Dizzy, Fire, Strength ~~

It was the loud buzzing of his phone’s alarm clock that dragged him from his slumber. He awoke to find himself sprawled across the couch, which was in no way long enough for his lanky body and spindly legs. As he blearily reached out and slapped at the coffee table, hoping to find the rude device by pure luck, he also blearily reached out and slapped at his memories, trying to figure out what series of events had led him there. For a moment, they floated just out of reach, and then suddenly flooded back to him all at once.

Oh. Right. It’s all over.

Another sporting event had come and gone, and as usual, in spite of all the effort he put into training and practice, he had ultimately lost to the same people he always did. No matter the sport, no matter the plan, no matter the time, they always won. And why shouldn’t they? The heroes always win in the end, always securing victory against the villains.

And he was one of them: the purple-clad counterpart, mirror, and supposed rival to one of the land’s most revered figures. Meant to oppose, and meant to lose.

He was Waluigi.

The name still sounded absurd to him. He had no idea how two men whose names were ‘Mario’ and ‘Wario’ and who naturally served as near-perfect foils of each other, had managed to meet and form such a publicizable rivalry without any deliberate effort, but such was the case. However, the notion that the brother of one had his own doppelganger in the brother of the other (or cousin, they never did manage to keep that story straight), with the same dichotomies of name, body, and personality? That was simply and utterly ridiculous, far beyond even the realm of ‘too good to be true’. And yet, if anyone had caught on, they hadn’t made it known to him.

Lost in thought and routine, he realized he had reached and opened his wardrobe, where numerous sets of that purple hat, shirt, and overalls were staring him in the face. In a sickening sense, they were the centerpiece of a great work of art, the fabrication that was his entire public existence, the character that he and Wario had constructed so that he might further be the ‘evil counterpart’ to everyone’s favorite red-clothed fire-throwing hero. Mario was stout and a bit fat, Wario was stouter and fatter; Luigi was tall and a bit thin, so Waluigi was taller and thinner. Mario had an M as his emblem, Wario had an inverted M; Luigi had an L, so Waluigi had an inverted L. To any casual outside observer, it was perfect.

But unlike Mario and Wario, whose rivalry had been formed in their youth, Waluigi had never even met Luigi until Wario had made him his sporting partner. The most he had known of the legendary Mario Brothers was just that: they were legends, for the countless adventures and quests they went on. In truth, despite how much he played it up during each and every game, he bore no true grudge against the man he was supposed to hate; Wario had, for a time, convinced him that Luigi’s presence in the public eye was somehow detracting from his own, but he had long since realized that that wasn’t the case; in fact, it often seemed like Luigi himself was being snubbed by the public, with the vast majority of the glory placed upon Mario, no matter how much Luigi contributed.

And yet, despite his existence being little more than a convenient story, despite the stress that constantly acting like a jerk brought, and despite always losing at the games no matter what, none of it brought him any sadness: for all its ups and downs, he felt himself to be rather good at keeping up the act, and the sports were, at the end of the day, still fun.

So why do I still feel so… bad?

Routine and thought had once more brought Waluigi elsewhere, and he found himself once more on his couch, now dressed in his usual outfit, with some sort of drink in his hands, probably coffee or tea; he didn’t care to determine which at that moment. His eyes casually wandered around the room as he brought the mug to his lips.

Then, just as the liquid touched his tongue--apparently he had managed to make tea out of coffee beans--the answer came to him. All across the room’s walls and shelves was sporting equipment of every sort--tennis racquets, shin-guards, helmets, golf clubs, old kart wheels, giant dice blocks, a probably excessive number of deflated balls--and absolutely no other sort of decoration. He leaned forward to place the mug on the table, and in doing so noticed his gloved hands and violet sleeves. Who wore the outfit of a character that they supposedly were not, every single day? Apparently, him.

He didn’t do anything else. He had let the character that was Waluigi consume his life to the point that had no idea who he was outside of it. He had nothing that he did when sports weren’t involved. Wario didn’t dedicate all his time to his rivalry; he owned an entire video game company--an unstable and poorly-run one, certainly, but it was nevertheless another use of his time. Mario and Luigi had their own grand adventures, of course, which is also what Peach, the Yoshis, Bowser, and his horde of minions were all typically involved in.

They all had lives outside of the games, and what did he do during the interim times? He either tried to practice, on his own, in the few suitable locations that he could find when the world was arranged for adventure, in a vain attempt to not lose as bad when the next game came around, or he wallowed in his home, doing absolutely nothing of any import.

But what could he do? Waluigi was never anything beyond a fabricated counterpart to both Wario and Luigi, but he could not remember, even slightly, what or who he was before he embraced that role. That nearly all of his memories prior to his first meeting with his partner were lost to him, was, he shuddered to admit, rather unsettling. Not even his old name--if he even had had one, he could not recall anymore--would reveal itself to him, and it was not as though he could simply find out through some external means: he was never the best at record-keeping, and to really sell their act, he had had his name legally changed to “Waluigi” and all references to his previous identity erased.

He shook his head, attempting to clear his mind of thoughts. There was little sense in worrying and fretting over who he was in that moment--the chance of any sort of useful epiphany emerging from it was even slimmer than he was.

Ugh… better just try to distract myself…

The first suitable option to catch his eye was the TV remote lying on the table. He quickly grabbed it and flicked on the set, and was immediately assaulted by the cheery enunciation of the Lakitu news anchors on the aptly-named Lakitu News Channel. He recalled that that was the channel he had left the set on last night, after he had gotten quite fed up with the incessant and inane blathering about the events of that day’s final matches, and it took only about five seconds to figure out that they were still on that topic. Scowling, he began flipping through the various channels available, hoping to find something interesting enough to block out the melancholic thoughts that were biting at his mind, like a hundred tiny Muncher and Nipper Plants.

After a painfully long series of more newsrooms--all talking about the exact same thing, of course--and unappealing shows--Half of these are for children and other half would just make me feel even worse!--he stumbled across some sort of advice segment hosted by a Birdo (was it the Birdo? He couldn’t tell). With absolutely no better options, he resigned himself to sit back and listen halfheartedly to whatever trite tips she tried to provide; maybe they’d be amusing enough to at least give him a small chuckle.

“I hope you all enjoyed our lovely guest! Now, before we move on to the submissions from all you wonderful viewers, I’d like to reiterate some old, but tried and true, advice, which I hold very close to my heart.”

Oh, here we go…

“Something which you probably hear very often is to always be yourself, or to always be true to yourself…”

Feh, I can think of several people who definitely shouldn’t do that…

“But it may be that you don’t like who ‘yourself’ is, or perhaps you don’t know what self you even have to be true to…”

Hah! As if… uh…

“And to that end, I’d like to say that there is always room for change. There’s always a way to make something new of yourself, to alter the parts of you that you want to, to become a different, better person. ‘Yourself’ can be whoever you want it to be; never are you locked along one unending bleak path. Try new things! Experiment! Don’t let yourself be trapped in an endless cycle.

“Believe me when I say I have personal experience with this: I’ve done so many different things over a rather short period of time, trying to find what I wanted to do with myself, who I wanted to be. Even now, I’m still not entirely sure if this is my supposed ‘calling’…! But I never got anywhere by doing nothing: it was on me to break out of my shell and search for myself, and now it’s on you to do the same.

“You don’t have to begin drastically, with a flying leap of faith--I think we’ve all walked over enough cliffs by now to know that!--but, if this is the sort of mindset you find yourself in, why not try taking some small steps today? It could be as simple as wearing a new outfit, or talking to someone new, or partaking in a new pastime.”

Birdo continued to elaborate on her point, but Waluigi--or, whoever he was beneath that--had stopped listening. He wanted to make some snark about what she said; he wanted to rationalize how what she described couldn’t ever apply to him; but, he found that he couldn’t. He had attempted to follow similar advice long in the past, and failed, but something about the way she phrased it, managed to affect him more deeply than he had thought possible. It was as though her words had dug beneath his shields and layers and pierced something somewhere in his core; pulled a lever, turned a handle, flipped a switch.

A strange sensation washed over him, one he could only describe as a blazing fire--nay, an inferno--igniting within him. He had felt the touch of flame countless times over the years, but not even the innumerable rage-fueled volleys he had endured, all combined into a single force, could compare to what now burned in his soul.

He leapt up from the sofa and ran to his bathroom. Staring at him from within the mirror was a character, a costume, a facade. It was not who he was. He grabbed a towel, dampened it, and proceeded to scrub away the pink paint on his nose; Wario and Waluigi’s noses were defined by that bright rosy color, but his was not. He then tore open a cabinet and grabbed his bottle of mustache product; normally, it was used to create the signature angular mustache of Waluigi, but today, it would shape the hairs into something softer and curlier. Whether that was what he would ultimately like did not matter: he was experimenting! He was changing himself!

Though the man that stared back at him from the glass now bore a much different visage, it was still framed by the purple cap and shirt, yellow emblem, and dark indigo overalls. He tore them off, then opened his wardrobe once more and threw all the copies of that same outfit to the ground. Hidden behind them were old clothes that he hadn’t worn for many, many years. He grabbed the first garments he saw--a casual dress shirt and gaudy neon-yellow shorts. Did those go well together? It didn’t matter. Without hesitating, he put them on.

He quickly glanced in the mirror again: the ensemble was nearly complete, but just missing one last touch. He thought on it for a moment, then stricken with brilliance, hurried to his modest backyard, where the roses he performed with in the games grew. He plucked one from its bush and affixed it to his hair, then ran back to the mirror to observe himself one more time.

His mismatched get-up would likely garner many stares from others, though he wouldn’t mind them at all; if he had anything in common with Waluigi, it was that they both loved being the center of attention. Even still, that’s not what mattered. A whole new day lay before him, a whole new day to be someone new, someone different; to move on from the cycle he had been stuck in, to take a whole new step forward.

He returned to the sitting room and turned off the television, then went to the front door. Taking a deep breath, he turned the handle, threw it open, and marched into the daylight, the daylight which felt far fresher and warmer than it had in a long time, though even it held no candle to the flame that continued to blaze within him.

Ready or not, world; here I come!!

[ryanmeft]

Movie Review: Promising Young Woman

Your reaction to the opening scene of Promising Young Woman might say a lot about you. A trio of finance ‘bros at a strip club talk about a female colleague in unflattering terms. One of them notices a woman who is drunk, by herself and who might be suggestive if she were sober. Two of the men don’t much care whether she’s sober or not, but the third seems concerned, and tries to help.

Have you seen the film? If not, I’d suggest you stop reading. You want to go in blind, not because the story has any fantastically inventive or original twists, but because of the fresh way it presents otherwise tired revenge-fantasy tropes.

If you have seen it, I’d like to quiz you on your reaction to the opening scene. Did you think:

A: “It’s good one of these guys is decent and wants to help.”

Or

B: “Something about this whole thing seems off to me.”

The very-much-not-drunk woman’s name is Cassie, played by the perennially underrated Carey Mulligan, and she makes a habit of this. The “nice guy” of course attempts to take advantage of her, and she leaves his apartment the next morning with blood on her, not hers. She does this not for herself, but for a friend who was sexually assaulted in college.

If you knew anything about the film going in, you expected that. What’s refreshing is where the story goes from there. Cassie returns home to her parent’s house. Her “lair” is her room, an ordinary, if upper-class, quarters. She works at a coffee house, drives an ordinary car, and eventually acquires an ordinary boyfriend (Bo Burnham) who is cute enough but not Hollywood Hot.

Most revenge-fantasy films strictly avoid questions of where a character lives, how they earn money, who their family and friends are, and what they do when they aren’t revenging. That’s even more true of movies starring women. We seem unable to imagine them as both hardened action stars and having a regular life. In movies like Atomic Blonde or Ocean’s 8, the heroes operate out of temporary digs, and if we do catch a glimpse of an apartment, it’s not the kind of place humans actually live---there are never any messes, and nobody spends even a single night on a Netflix binge. One recent film simply titled Revenge gave our heroine absolutely no background or story at all.

This often works, on a sleek, superficial level. What elevates PYW is that it eschews that sleekness for messy reality, so that when Cassie takes revenge on one of the many people she blames for what happened, she still has to walk out onto an ordinary street, drive to a real house in a real car, and so forth. Most avenging angels are simply transported from one setpiece location to another by editing. You cannot picture one of Liam Neeson’s retribution-obsessed action heroes actually driving somewhere---he simply teleports.

The movie later suggests she does not kill her targets, but instead terrorizes them and sometimes tortures them. You may well wonder how she gets away with this---how she fools assholes into taking her home despite leaving them alive to spread the story. The movie never says, but if you’ve been around this particular type of guy, you already know. Men such as Cassie’s victims never see a woman as being their equal, and thus cannot perceive one as a threat to them. And if a woman does get the best of them, they’d never tell the authorities. Both things would threaten their sense of dominance. When they tell their friends the story, you better believe they re-write it to make themselves look good.

All of which naturally begs the question: what is Cassie achieving? A lesser film in this vein might be content to say that revenge is enough. Emerald Fennell clearly found that approach lacking. Cassie is not a mindless, emotion-free robot of automatic vengeance, but a broken person driven to break people who deserve it. One of my favorite comics, 100 Bullets, is built around the ability to get away with justified murder, and ranges widely in terms of the fates of those who take that chance.

Cassie would fit right in as a character there. The men she targets deserve their fate. Yet her crusade is destroying whatever was left of her as her ends justify more and more extreme means. She eventually confronts the Dean of her former med school (Connie Britton), a woman who has a history of allowing abusers to walk free because she places her social class above both her gender and justice. The Dean deserves to squirm, but however correct Cassie is in what she says, what she does to torture the women would make any parent hate our protagonist.

There is no way this is not deliberate on Fennell’s part; you cannot write a hero such as this one and expect us to agree with everything she does. She is not out to ruin the lives of merely abusers, but of those who looked the other way. The moral dilemma is that Cassie does not care who else she hurts to make those people hurt. Anyone is fair game for her schemes if it accomplishes her ends. There’s no way for a person with a soul to be that focused on getting the job done without internalizing some of it, taking that darkness on themselves.

The pivotal moment showing the damage Cassie is personally incurring is not very dramatic. She visits a woman who was a friend when they were kids, and talks about the friend who is gone. This is simply an ordinary woman---we have not seen her before this scene, and we do not see her after, because Cassie has isolated herself from her life. She lives on an ordinary street, and the two talk like you or I might talk, not like a screenwriter would. You could quite easily walk down this street and past them talking, and not know anything important was being discussed.

Could this be a comment by Fennell: “Sexual assault doesn’t appear dramatic, and is all around you”? It works on that level. I chose to see it as a means to ground Cassie in a life like ours, to elevate her above the killing machines we see in many movies. Real survivors don’t become superheroes; they have to go on with life. Cassie is a great hero because she has to do that, too. Our satisfaction at seeing assholes punished is muted somewhat by how much of her soul it costs her. Verdict: Must-See

Note: I don’t use stars, but here are my possible verdicts. 

Must-See

Highly Recommended

Recommended

Average

Not Recommended

Avoid like the Plague

You can follow me on Twitter here, if you want more posts about film and video games and sometimes about manscaping:

https://twitter.com/RyanmEft

All images are property of the people what own the movie.